Mirage, after being caught and tortured by the Decepticons, has been rescued, but his cloaking generator and his vocalizer are broken. He feels it doesn't matter, and stays invisible and silent, until he sees that he is, in fact missed.
Notes:
For Misty_Mina on Livejournal
Okay, so this was written for a prompt on the Livejournal TF_bunny_farm.
The prompt was: 1.) Mirage's cloaking device got damaged in battle. Now he can't turn it off and has to stay invisible. But it's not like he minds. Not many think highly of him anyway. He decides to stay invisible, fully believing that nobody would miss him anyway. So how would he react if the crew really starts missing him?
1.a) Bonus points for Hound/Mirage pairing. (You don't have to though.)
1.b) No Cliffjumper/Mirage! ( XP I'll hunt you down if you do. _ But I support Cliffy-bashing. XD )
1.c) Crack points if the crew thinks that Mirage is dead and his ghost haunts the Ark! XD
So...'Raj may be a bit OOC, maybe. I haven't really written him lots...or Hound...or Trailbreaker. So, I hope it's at least liked, even if characters are a bit OOC.
"Ya sure this is wha' ya wan', 'Raj?" Jazz asks, frowning at the invisible Special Ops mech. He's the only one - aside from Ratchet - who knows that the other mech is actually alive. He doesn't like what Mirage is saying, not understanding why the blue-and-white mech doesn't want anyone to know the truth. Sure, the former noblemech went through a lot before they saved him, but the other is alive and well. "Ya don' wan' them ta know yer okay?"
::I...believe it for the best right now.:: It's a lie, and Mirage knows it. ::Besides, it will be difficult if anyone wishes to speak to me, since I cannot answer them properly.:: He presses a hand to his throat cabling, where his injured vocalizer hides. He knows it's the least of his injuries, but he's almost glad he can't speak. It'll allow him some time alone. 'They won't miss me, anyways.' He isn't sure why, but that thought hurts. ::I'm going to my room. I'll make sure only to get Energon when no one is in the rec room. We wouldn't want them to...overreact.::
"Heh. Ain' gonna stop ya if ya wan' it when tha room's full." Jazz snickers at the idea as the door opens, closing only when Mirage is out of the room. Only then does he allow his frown to show. He knows Mirage isn't particularly popular, but he also knows that there are others who really do care about the Towers mech. He shakes his head, sending off a message to Ratchet, Prowl, and Optimus about Mirage's request. He knows that he needs to tell them, even though it'll be even less popular of a decision in their opinions. He also knows that Prowl and Optimus need to be informed of the fact the Mirage is indeed alive, and not offlined as others seem to be convinced. After a moment, he sends one to Red Alert as well. No point in having the security mech glitch out because of objects moving on their own, or doors opening when no mech is present. Though, he doesn't deny the mech's reactions would be amusing.
##
Mirage sighs as he sneaks into the rec room. He doesn't really want to be there with all of the mechs present, but he could really use some Energon. Unfortunately, he knows he'll have to wait until no one is looking if he wants to get any from the dispenser. The Towers mech moves closer silently, snatching the cube when no one is looking and hurrying to hide in one corner or the room.
"He ain't here because he's a fragging traitor!" Cliffjumper growls, slamming his cube onto the table. "Looks like I was right, after all. If he wasn't, they'd have at least found his body. He isn't dead, but he isn't here. Which means that he's working for the 'Cons now." The smaller, red mech grinned when he was met by a few mechs agreeing with him. He and the others are completely unaware as the spy moves closer, frustrated at their reaction to his not being there, even if it is to be expected. "He better hope I never catch sight of him or else - aack!" He looks around when he finds himself on the ground, no one behind him. He's freaking out when his own Energon is lifted from the table and poured on his helm. "Wha-what's going on?"
Mirage moves away quickly as he drops the cube onto the smaller mech; he has never been one for pranks or anything of the sort, especially for revenge, but he couldn't help himself. He smirks as he moves back to his corner. He has an odd feeling of satisfaction at the fact the Cliffjumper seems to be freaking out, since he is supposedly not there.
"Y-you don't th-think it's M-Mirage's ghost?" Sideswipe asked, pretending to be scared, just to rile the minibot up. He has no clue who - or what - caused it, and he isn't scared or anything. He just wants to see how Cliffjumper reacts.
Cliffjumper makes a surprised squeak. "Th-that's not possible! I mean..." He jumps when he sees a chair - the chair Mirage is sitting in - shift with no one anywhere near it. With a very unmechly shriek, he runs from the room, leaving all of the mechs present howl with laughter.
"Guess Cliffy is superstitious." Sideswipe grins over at his twin, looking quite smug. He sees it as revenge for the trouble the red minibot got his twin into recently. He doesn't even seem to care about the actual reason objects were moving on their own as he leans back in his seat.
The noblemech settles into his seat, smiling sadly as he sips at his cube. As much as he enjoys Cliffjumper's...comeuppance, it only serves to remind him that of what he already knows: no mech or femme truly cares about his absence. Most of them would agree that it simply makes him a traitor; none of them know what he went through trying to get the information from the Decepticons. He shudders slightly and tries to shake the memories off. He's no longer on the Nemesis, and he's no longer in the clutches of their enemies. He finishes off his Energon and moves quickly from the room, not even caring when he bumps into a few objects. He needs to get out of there as quickly as possible, the hatred from certain Autobots, as well as the memories of the torture he was put through overwhelming him. He hurries to his room, sinking onto his berth, frame shuddering, glad that even he can't see his own frame right now. He doesn't know how he was repaired with his cloaking malfunctioning, but, even if all the injuries are gone, the memories of the torture is still there. Even if his frame is clear of any blemishes, Mirage can still feel every small thing that happened to him. 'It's not as if I haven't been tortured before...Why is this time affecting me so much?' He rests his helm against the wall, shuddering before slipping into recharge, the memories haunting him even in his dreams.
##
It isn't until a few days later that Mirage hears the first rumor: he's been offlined by the Decepticons, and his ghost is haunting the Ark, apparently. As the day passes, he hears more. His ghost is angry because the other Autobots didn't reach him in time; his ghost is there because he hadn't confessed his feelings to another on board. He can't help but laugh silently at the preposterous idea of his ghost haunting the ship. Not that he has helped to stem the rumors. He's been doing what he always has, as he's always done it. Of course, this means that the other Autobots have been seeing the occasional cubes floating on their own, or datapads, or chairs shifting. He didn't encourage the rumors, exactly, but he hadn't dissuaded them either. Especially not when he would stealthily tap a mech on the shoulder, then move away. He has actually found it to be fun to tease the other mechs on the Ark this way. Not that he would ever admit to it. He was far too dignified to be playing pranks, after all...which was what probably made his actions even more fun for him. He considered it his own sort of revenge for the way so many of them had treated him, especially after Cliffjumper had started questioning his loyalty, causing others to, as well.
The Towers mech settles down in the rec room as he has been lately; he finds that it's easier to be there when no one can see him. While he still has to deal with Cliffjumper or one of the other mechs who dislikes him running their mouth, he doesn't have any other confronting him at least. And, most of the time, even those who don't like him don't really talk about him anymore. He tries to ignore the fact that it hurts that he has no one except for Jazz to speak to, and, even then, his commanding officer's time is mostly spent with Prowl. He smiles sadly, leaning back in his chair as he watches other mechs slowly filter in, optics catching on Hound and Trailbreaker. He has worked with the two before; they're two of the mechs around who actually seem to be able to stand his presence, so he can't help but be concerned when he sees them. He tells himself that's the only reason he's worried, not willing to admit it might be anything else. Not really hoping that it could be anything more than an awkward friendship, anyways.
Hound looks miserable as he and the other mech sit at a table not too far from Mirage's. "I don't believe it," the green mech says, tone bordering on petulant, which makes Mirage smile slightly; it's a tone that Hound doesn't usually have. He shakes his head. "Just because he isn't here doesn't mean he's dead. And it doesn't mean he's a traitor either. All this stuff about his ghost haunting the Ark is nonsense."
Hound's companion places a hand on the other mech's shoulder. "I'm sure he's fine, Hound," the mostly-black mech says consolingly. He isn't actually certain, but he hates seeing Hound like this. And he's determined to try to believe his own words, even with the uncertainty; it wouldn't do to give up on Mirage. He doesn't understand how some mechs already seem to have done so. "He'll be back soon, waltzing through the entrance with that smug look he tends to have." Trailbreaker actually sounds amused when he says this, where most mechs would sound like they hated Mirage for it; that surprises Mirage. "Then we can have that talk with him that we were hoping for."
Mirage frowns. They've been wanting to speak with him? He can't fathom any reason they might wish to go out of their way to find him. Even if he were to go far enough to assume that they're friends, they've never actually truly sought him out for any reason. They have worked together, and they have sat together during those convenient times they have all three been in the rec room, but never once have they actually gone looking for each other.
The scout sighs, nodding. "I hope so. And I hope he'll listen. I mean, we've worked together, but we haven't ever really...done anything else. And I don't even know if he's liked working with either of us." Hound smiles slightly, a little strained, and kissesTrailbreaker's cheek. "I should get going. I'm on patrol duty."
Trailbreaker chuckles. "I'll let you know if I hear anything about Mirage. I may go see about asking Jazz or someone who might know."
Hound nods as he heads out.
Mirage stares after Hound, shocked. He's always known that Hound and Trailbreaker are some of the friendliest mechs on the Ark, but he could never have guessed that they might actually want to be around him. Very few mechs have ever wanted that. Even fewer mechs would go inquire about his well-being, and not to Jazz. He looks around the rec room with a frown. Surely they're the only ones. Is that really enough to change his mind? 'I cannot think of any others who might actually want to see me.' The blue-and-white Ligier stands, ready to leave, when he notices Bumblebee sitting along. 'He always has others with him. Why would he be sitting alone?' He moves a bit closer to the yellow mech, concerned for the other, though he probably wouldn't show it outwardly if he wasn't stuck with his cloaking device on.
Bumblebee sighs, holding a cube of Energon between his hands. "Stupid Cliff," he murmurs. "Just doesn't know when to stop."
"Wha'd he do, Bee?" Jazz asks, flopping unceremoniously onto the couch next to the minibot. The black and white Porsche grins as Prowl joins them, albeit reluctantly. It's obvious that he's dragged the second-in-command with him, and he loves every moment of it.
"He was running his mouth about 'Raj being a traitor again. Or about him being offlined." Bumblebee looks up at Jazz. "It's not true, right?" Bumblebee realizes how the question comes out, with the implication that he's not certain, and he hates that. Unfortunately, he's really starting to worry that Mirage might have been offlined. After all, he'd been part of the rescue team, and he hadn't seen any sign of Mirage...except all of the mech's Energon painting the walls. He shudders, not wanting to remember just how much there had been, evidence of how badly the Towers mech had been tortured.
"Ah'm sure he'll be comin' 'round soon, Bee. Ya know how things can be." Jazz pats Bumblebee's shoulder gently. "Ah know ya were always fond of workin' wit' him, weren't ya?" The head of Special Ops knows that Mirage has been hanging around the rec room recently, and he's definitely hoping the other mech is there and hearing all of this.
"Well, yeah. I mean, we're both Special Ops mechs." Bumblebee's words are soft enough that Mirage can hardly hear them. Most mechs on the Ark know he's a scout, and they know that he does some spying, but very few know that he's actually a part of Special Ops. "And he's always treated me well. I know some mechs don't like him because he wants the war to be over, but...how is that different than anyone else? It's just that he wants it over and thinks we can maybe talk to the Decepticons. I don't see what's so wrong with wanting peace with them."
In surprise, Mirage moves away; it's true that he and Bumblebee have worked together quite a bit, but he'd never really expected to be missed by the yellow minibot. He makes his way out of the rec room quickly, nearly running into Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as he does, catching bits of their conversation.
"Well, he at least always appreciated my paintings," Sunstreaker growls, crossing his arms over his chassis. The frontliner shrugs. "He knew how to appreciate good art, unlike most of the other mechs here." His words are clearly referring to Mirage, seeing as how many of his paintings had been placed in the Towers, and how many Mirage had owned.
Sideswipe simply listens as his brother complains; he doesn't say anything, but he does have to admit that it's odd not having the Towers mech there. "I'm sure he'll show up at some point, bro," he interrupts, grinning. "And then you can show him that new painting you did. That way you'll have all the praise you want." The red Lamborghini pats his brother's arm, only to have the golden mech swat at him. "Aww, c'mon Sunny, just trying to help."
"Don't call me Sunny." The golden twin shoves Sideswipe. "Besides, didn't we already try an extraction? If he was alive, he'd be here, wouldn't he? Now I have no one to appreciate my art."
"There's always Tracks." Sideswipe sticks his glossa out as his twin lunges at him. "Kidding. Kidding. I know, Tracks isn't someone who is going to appreciate it. He's pretty much only interested in his looks, and he's almost as obsessed with them as much as you are yours, bro. Almost." He hurries over to join Jazz and Bumblebee before his twin can get revenge for that comment, even if he is just teasing the other.
Sunstreaker growls and follows his twin over, the glare he gives promising his revenge on his twin.
Mirage frowns, glancing back over at his commanding officer, who is definitely looking directly at him. ::Jazz...hypothetically, if I were to have changed my mind on our discussion when I was retrieved from the Nemesis...how long would it be until my cloaking would be repaired so I could turn it off?::
::'Ny time ya wan' it ta, 'Raj.:: Jazz hides his grin behind his cube, pretending to listen to the twins arguing. ::Ratch is ready ta fix it wheneva ya wan' ta see 'im.::
Mirage glares at Jazz, at the mech's smug tone; not that it does any good, considering Jazz can't actually see him. He has stopped trying to figure out how Jazz seems to know where he is, even when he's running silent and invisible.::I see. Thank you.:: Mirage turns and heads straight to the medbay. When he enters, he isn't surprised to see that Ratchet has everything out and ready to go. ::I assume Jazz already mentioned it to you, then?::
"Of course he did," Ratchet growls. "Up on the berth." He growls as he turns back around, turning on a scanner that Mirage has never seen before. Its use is obviously to allow Ratchet to see the spy through the malfunctioning cloaking device. Mirage simply didn't see it the last time he was in here because he was too far out of it in pain from the torture he'd been put through. "It took you long enough to pull your head out of your exhaust and come see me to take care of this."
Before Mirage can reply, he finds himself being put under by the medic.
##
When Mirage comes to, he can't help but stare at the ceiling, slightly confused.
"Finally decided to wake, did you?" Ratchet's voice is far too amused, Mirage decides, as the medic checks the former noblemech over. "I fixed your vocalizer. Try speaking for me."
"H-how long did you have me out?" Mirage asks, groaning softly. His voice is strained and rough from being unable to use it for several days as well as from the injury it had sustained.
"Not long at all. It was an easy fix." Ratchet shrugs. He'd fixed all of the major injuries before; he'd simply had to wait for the parts to fix the Special Ops mech's vocalizer and cloaking. "Oh, and expect to have some visitors. Jazz mentioned that you were back and fully repaired. I believe he was telling mechs that you'd been rescued, but you were in bad enough condition that you'd been kept in a room here in the medbay where no one could come see you. That way you don't have any awkward questions as to why you weren't present and talking to anyone." Ratchet snorts, shaking his head, knowing full well that Mirage had been present and had caused quite the commotion. "Now test out your cloaking. Need to make sure it isn't going to get stuck again." He nods as Mirage activates it, then deactivates after a moment. "Looks like it's working just fine now. Okay, you're good to go. And I don't want to see you back here anytime soon." He folds his arms, tapping a wrench against his side as he does.
"I will endeavor to stay out of here as long as I can." Mirage is at the door before the wrench comes sailing at his head; he's lucky he's Special Ops, allowing him to dodge the object that rarely misses its target. He does his best to hide his grin as he hurries out, listening to Ratchet's muttered curses about Special Ops mech and their reflexes. He is only slightly surprised to find Hound and Trailbreaker waiting for him, even though he supposes he shouldn't be at all. At least, not after he heard them saying they had something they wanted to discuss with him. "Ah...hello." He shifts, glancing around for a way to escape; even though he knows the two are here to see him, have been hoping that he was alright, he can't help but want to get out of the awkward situation. "I was not expecting to see you two here."
Hound grins. "Glad to see you're doing well, Mirage," his words are soft, almost shy as he looks at the Towers mech. "We were glad to hear that you'd actually been rescued. And there's no way we wouldn't come to see you. We were worried when you went missing. I mean...we're friends, right?"
Mirage nods, finding himself feeling claustrophobic. He's not certain why, but their concern for him has him freaking out. "I'm afraid I've things to do. And I need to...ah...report to Jazz. There are many concerns that were raised by my time on the Nemesis." The Ligier isn't even quite sure why he's lying to get away from the two mechs. He doesn't dislike them; he just finds that he has no idea how to handle the situation, something that he's most definitely not used to. In part, he realizes, it's his instincts trying to get him out of a situation his processor is telling him is one he doesn't want to be in, especially after everything that has happened recently. Before he actually tries to run off - which he has to force himself not to do - he notices the hurt look on Hound's face. Hesitantly, he looks at the two and makes his suggestion. "Perhaps afterwards...we could get some Energon?"
The green scout nods. "Sure. Oh, hey! I have an idea! We should get out of the Ark. Have a little picnic or something."
"A...picnic?" Mirage looks utterly confused.
Trailbreaker snickers softly. "Basically, we'd be taking the Energon out somewhere," he explains. "It can be lots of fun, and I think I know where Hound has planned. It's a really nice area. And you don't have to worry, not too much dirt or grime." The last part is said teasingly, meant to be a joke, and he hopes that the former noblemech takes it that way.
Mirage shakes his head, although a small smile tugs at his lips, well aware that it wasn't meant as an insult. "Very well. I will meet you at the entrance once I've finished with my report." He hurries away, finding that he's slightly nervous. It bothers him. He's never been nervous like this, and he isn't certain how to react. The other two mechs simply wish to have Energon with him. Nothing more. 'And...they're the first to do so.' He finds himself at Jazz's office before he even realizes it, not even entirely sure Jazz will be there. He knows that Jazz tends to use Prowl's office more than the one assigned to the head of Special Ops.
Jazz is grinning as the other mech enters. "So, ya glad ta have yer cloakin' off?" he asks, kicked back in his chair. "An' did Hound 'nd Breaker tell ya wha' they been wanting' ta?"
"They were there to see me, yes. However, if they have anything they wish to tell me, they are planning to do it during our...picnic...that they wish to have." He frowns as Jazz's grin grows. "Is there anything you wish for me to do before-"
"Jus' go, 'Raj. Enjoy yerself. Tha's all Ah ask."
Mirage sighs, but nods, heading out of the office, shaking his head. The Ligier is not surprised to see the other two mechs waiting for him; what does surprise him, though, is how Hound grabs his hand to pull him along. He knows that Hound is an extremely friendly mech, as is Trailbreaker, but they physical contact isn't expected. He finds that he doesn't object to it, however. He allows himself to be pulled along until they got out so they can transform, heading out of the desert. He listens, but doesn't say anything, as Hound and Trailbreaker exchange comments on the scenery or the humans. He doesn't hate the planet they're on, like so many others seem to think he does. Not really. He's simply disinterested in the desert landscape, in the human technology and architecture. He misses the landscapes of their home, and, he supposes, that is what makes it seem like he dislikes this planet so much.
"Here we are," Hound says abruptly, startling Mirage. He transforms and looks around; he'd led them slightly up the slopes of a mountain, into a small, forested area.
Mirage transforms and looks around, surprised by the landscape. "This...is amazing," his words are whispered as he looks around. He has never taken the time to look around the planet, so he's never seen anything other than the deserts or the cities. While he has always preferred the cybernetic layout of their homeworld, this organic, forested area is quite the wonder.
"Glad you like it." The green scout grins, looking over at Trailbreaker, who has set down a blanket they had specifically made for occasions like this, one large enough to allow all three of them to sit on. "Come on. Breaker has the picnic all set up." He grabs Mirage's hand and leads the Towers mech over to where Trailbreaker sits, holding a few cubes.
"Is that...vintage high grade?" Mirage simply stares; he would never have expected anyone to be able to find any of it left. He believed it to be gone when the Towers fell, but apparently some had been saved. He sits down, a bit of a distance between the two mechs.
Trailbreaker nods. "We managed to get some," he replies, grinning. "Not too difficult, either. We thought you might enjoy it, too." He holds one of the cubes out to Mirage, who accepts it gratefully.
"Indeed." Mirage sips it, letting out a soft moan of appreciation. "This is an amazing vintage. Did you win it from Sideswipe or Smokescreen?" He chuckles, as do the others, before he looks at the two mechs, suddenly wary, instincts kicking in. He has no idea why they would go to all this trouble, so he isn't sure if he should trust them. 'They've done nothing to harm me. Ever.' Even his own thoughts can't stop the wariness, which he can tell the other two have seen. "So...what is it that you two wished to speak to me about?" The blue-and-white mech, isn't surprised by the shocked, and slightly nervous, looks he receives. "I...Jazz said you wished to speak to me about something. And...I overheard you mentioning something recently."
"But...you can't have heard that!" Hound's exclamation is tinged with embarrassment.
"I wasn't in the medbay the whole time." The words are soft as Mirage looks down at the cube in his hands. He doesn't know why he's telling them this. It could make them hate him just as easily as the possibility of them understanding his reasoning. He also doesn't understand why he feels so bad about his actions; he feels guilty that he made these two mechs, as well as several others, worry that he had been offlined. "My cloaking generator was damaged, as well as my vocalizer. Honestly, I thought nothing of it. I...am not exactly very popular with many others. I didn't really care during the first few days…Yesterday...or earlier, whichever it was –" He realizes he's not entirely sure, after having been put out for his generator and his vocalizer to be fixed." I was in the rec room. I wasn't expecting either of you to be concerned about me. Nor Bumblebee."
"Of course we were," Trailbreaker interjects, reaching a hand to rest over Mirage's. He's slightly surprised that Mirage doesn't try to pull away from his touch; he hopes that means Mirage might at least listen to their reasoning for caring so much.
"I'm not sure I understand why, though."
Hound shifts, looking embarrassed. "Well, it kinda has to do with what we wanted to tell you," he says sheepishly. "We, uh...well, the two of us started a relationship recently..." He trails off, not quite sure how to continue.
"Er...congratulations?" Mirage raises an optic ridge; surely that couldn't be why they had dragged him out there. And he can't, for the life of him, figure out why it seems to hurt to know that the other two are together. He frowns.
The mostly-black mech shifts a bit closer to Mirage, chuckling at the confused tone the noblemech had... "That isn't all, actually. We were talking recently, and found that we're both interested in another mech...The same mech..."
Hound slips a hand up to cover Trailbreaker's and Mirage's, sitting right next to the blue-and-white mech, who seems to be realizing just how close the other two are. He leaves it so Mirage can pull away should the noblemech feel trapped, even as he hopes the blue-and-white mech won't. "We were hoping that you might...be interested, too?" His words aren't meant to be a question, but they come out as one, showing just how nervous he is. He's glad that Mirage isn't pulling away. "It's not like we'd try to force you or anything, but, when you disappeared, well, we realized that..."
"That we might not have the chance. We realized that, if you were alright, and came back, we needed to tell you. Even if you're not interested, we just wanted you to know. And you don't need answer us now or anything. We just hope you might consider thinking it over."
Mirage just stares at the two hands covering his own, before he looks up at Hound and Trailbreaker. He's never considered them as more than anything but friends. 'That doesn't mean you're not interested, though...' He is surprised by his own thoughts. He realizes, though, that he shouldn't be. When he truly considers it, he realizes that maybe this is the reason he's been so nervous around these two, and the real reason that he went to see Ratchet.
"I know it may seem kinda weird, especially considering who it's coming from. I know I'm not the most useful of mechs-"
"That's not true, Breaker," Hound interjects with a frown, giving the mostly black mech an admonishing glance. "Besides, I'm not exactly the type most mechs would consider going for, either, especially with how much I like this planet, and how much everyone else hates it."
Mirage chuckles. "As I've seen it, you're both quite good at what you do," he says, smiling slightly. "I...I am curious as to why you like me. I am nothing like either of you." He curses mentally. That didn't come out as he meant it to; his words sounded arrogant, and that's not what he meant. "I'm sorry...that didn't..." He's surprised when one of Hound's fingers presses against his lips.
"Honestly? I think most of it's your personality." Hound sighs when the Towers mech scoffs, giving a slight squeeze to Mirage's and Trailbreaker's hands... "It's true. I mean, we haven't really ever sat down like this before, but it's actually pretty easy to see what other mechs don't. You've got a wicked sense of humor, especially considering, I'm assuming all of those 'ghost' incidents were you. And you're actually a very kind mech. It's just that-"
"You tend to hide yourself from everyone," Trailbreaker finishes."You say things that most mechs think are condescending, or arrogant, but we think it's obvious that it's not what you mean. I think you just don't know how to properly express yourself." He shrugs, grinning at Mirage, not once losing his ever-cheerful attitude.
The Specials Ops mech finds himself disconcerted; Hound and Trailbreaker seem to be able to read him perfectly, something he isn't used to. "I am willing to try," his voice is barely above a whisper. He can't help but wonder if he'll regret it, but that little voice in his processor tells him it's worth it to see. He's surprised when fingers move up under his chin, lifting it, lips gently claiming his own. His optics offline instinctively, as Hound's lips move against his slowly, only to be replaced by Trailbreaker's. When the kiss is broken, he onlines his optics, feeling slightly dazed. It wasn't what he'd been expecting. That isn't saying much, though, as he expected none of this, although, he does find it quite pleasant.
"We should head back to the Ark," Hound whispers, pressing another kiss to Mirage's cheek. "Jazz just commed me and mentioned that Bumblebee is wanting to see you. He was pretty worried about you."
Mirage nods. "That's probably a good idea." He smiles at the other two mechs, seeming almost shy. "I suppose I should apologize to Bumblebee, after all." He follows the other two, heading down the trail they had come up on. He leans against Hound as they head down the path they came up, this time not bothering to transform into their alt modes, at least, not until they reached a real road.
##
It isn't until much later, after Bumblebee decided it was necessary to question Mirage, pretty much scolding the Towers mech for his actions - which Jazz seems to find utterly hilarious, informing them that Prowl also seems to be amused by the situation - that the former noblemech is able to sneak into the rec room. He ignores most of the looks, especially those from mechs like Cliffjumper; instead, head held high, he heads straight for Hound and Trailbreaker, sitting in the empty space the left for him. He can't hold back the very undignified squeak as he's pulled in closer to the two. He does quite enjoy the affection, but it's not quite what he'd been expecting when he'd entered.
Hound grins, kissing Mirage's cheek. ::Don't worry, love. We don't plan on doing anything too embarrassing.::
Mirage snorts, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. ::You won't do it yet, you mean.:: He lets his helm rest on Hound's shoulder, just listening to Hound and Trailbreaker converse; he enjoys the feeling of actually being wanted, especially after all he's been through at the hands of the Decepticons. He shudders, knowing that Hound and Trailbreaker probably feel the movement. Well...Jazz and Ratchet had insisted that he speak to someone about what happened. Perhaps, after he gets some recharge, he'll be willing to do so. And, maybe, Hound and Trailbreaker can help him. There's no way he's going to go speak to Smokescreen, after all; as with most of the Special Ops mechs, he has quite the aversion to psychologists. For now, though, he smiles and sighs softly, relaxing as one of Hound's arms slips around his shoulders, holding him protectively, while Trailbreaker strokes his side and arm gently, soothingly. He slips into recharge easily being held by the two mechs, something that he's never done in public before.