Title: Home Safe.
Universe: Transformers / G1 Cartoon.
Summary: Set after the events of "Auto Berserk". Red Alert and Inferno discuss the differences between 'Bots and 'Cons.
A/N: This is one of three fanfics I'm moving over from dA, so if you get a sense of déjà vu it's because you've already read it there.
The room was bathed in a soft violet light, the illumination stemming from the recharging birth, which was lit-up in a deep, vibrant blue. The figure reclining on it was immobile but not offline. He was currently rolling his blue optics in the direction of another mech sat on the periphery of his vision, the bright red of his paint-job dyed purple.
"You don't need to be here," Red Alert said for the third time that hour. "I told you, I'm fine. Ratchet gave me the all-clear."
Inferno grunted. "Yeah? Well he also gave me orders ta make sure you stayed put in this here room for the entire night. I don't wanna be on Ratchet's bad side the next time I get a ding in my armour." He tried to keep the resentment of sitting on a chair that was too small for him out of his voice, but a smatter crept in nonetheless. He shifted his hips uncomfortably, resulting in a shriek of metal-on-metal that made the two of them wince.
"I'm sure you're bored." Red Alert replied. "Besides, you're keeping me awake."
"Psht," said Inferno, meaning it. He folded his arms across his windshield and hummed thoughtfully. "Hey, Red...can I ask ya something?"
"If you must," Red Alert sighed. He smiled to himself. It had been a long time since he had spent this much time with Inferno - work and shift patterns normally got in the way - and he was enjoying himself more than he wanted to let on. So the next question hit him squarely between the optics and hurt more than it ought to have done.
"What was it like hangin' with a Decepticon?"
Red Alert sat up and stared at his friend. "We were not hangin'." He snapped, louder than he meant to. "There was nothing fun about spending time with Starscream."
Startled, Inferno held up his hands. "Aww, cool your vents, Red. I was jus' curious what it was like spendin' time with one of 'em is all. I mean, outside of combat. D'ya ever think about what they do when they're not...y'know, fightin' us? They all seem to be real aftholes to each other."
"We can be real aftholes to each other," Red replied wearily, thinking of Cliffjumper's recent attitude towards Mirage, or Huffer's never-ending stream of complaints, or the flak Hoist and Grapple had received after the Solar Tower incident. He lay back down on the berth and shrugged his shoulders.
Silence fell between them. It was the comfortable silence of two mechs who didn't need words to convey their ease with one another, and Inferno was nearly slipping into recharge by the time Red Alert finally answered his query. "S'rry?" He muttered, sitting straighter in his chair and flexing his legs. "What d'ya say, Red?"
"I said, I feel sorry for him. For Starscream." The tone was carefully careless, and Inferno could feel the confusion behind the words. He frowned.
"Why in the pit would'ya feel sorry for a sl- for a 'Con like Starscream?"
Red Alert sat up again, leaning back on his hands and gazing unseeingly at the ceiling. Inferno sat patiently as his friend gathered his thoughts, brushing some imaginary dust from the gun on his right arm. "I...I was glitching," Red said finally. "I was 'messed up', as the twins would no doubt say. I wasn't thinking right. I was overwhelmed by paranoia, and I probably wouldn't have been able to tell my left from my right had I been asked." He smiled sadly. "I thought you hated me. I thought you all hated me, and wanted to deactivate me. I was so...so sure of it."
Inferno shifted uncomfortably. "Red, I..." His voiced trailed off as the other mech shook his head impatiently.
"No, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm making a point. I was, to all intents and purposes, what the humans call insane. Starscream wasn't." When he caught Inferno's nonplussed look, he sighed. "I only felt that way because there was something wrong with me. There was nothing wrong with Starscream - yet he felt that way nonetheless. He knew he was hated, and despised, and most likely a 'dead man walking' if Megatron ever caught up with him. Don't you see? He lives his life that way. They all do, all of the Decepticons. Constantly having to look over their shoulders to see if their comrades are about to shoot them in the backplates. They can never let their guard down, they can never make friends, they...well, they're probably incapable of feelings like love and compassion. Isn't that awful? To go through life feeling nothing but paranoia and hatred? I had to cope with it for less than an Earth day, and it nearly tore me to pieces." He paused, slightly breathless, wincing as one of his horns lit up a bright blue. Inferno made to stand up, but Red Alert waved him away. "No, it's alright, Ratchet mentioned this might happen." He tapped it, and it dimmed.
Inferno paused before replying. "Yer right," he said eventually. "That...that is a pretty nasty life. But it don't excuse what he did to ya."
Red Alert shook his head. He knew Inferno would take it as an agreement to the statement, but deep down it felt wrong to criticise the Seeker in such a way. That look on Starscream's face when he had agreed to help him steal the Negavator...it had almost been one of...well, happiness. For five hours Starscream had had somebody that he could rely on, somebody who hadn't been able to turn against him or deny him what he wanted. It would probably have been the only five hours in his entire life that he had had something close to a friend, glitch or no. A shudder ran through his circuits as he wondered what the Seeker was going through now, back at Decepticon headquarters. He doubted very much that they had verbal warnings or tribunals.
He dismissed his revere and glanced at Inferno. "You can go," he said tiredly. "I promise I'll go straight into recharge and won't even think about work."
Inferno snorted, but he stood and stretched his aching limbs. "Yer always thinkin' about work." He said playfully, grinning. "But I believe ya. And anyway, if ya even try to get inta the Security Room, Prowl's under orders from Prime to march ya straight back here and tie ya down."
Red Alert arched an optic ridge. "I very much doubt Optimus Prime would be so...barbaric."
Inferno's grin widened. "Well...maybe the tyin'-down part was somebody else's idear," he winked. "But still, ya get where we're comin' from." His face and voice softened. "We're just worried about ya."
"You don't need to be," Red replied quietly as he settled down on his berth and watched Inferno stride to the door. "I'm home, and I'm perfectly safe now."
On the other side of the planet, leagues below the sea, a very different mech was curled in his recharge berth, trembling as he stroked the loose cables and battered metal of his own frame, and swore revenge on those who had hurt him through half-choked, strangled sobs.