10. Irresponsible

He really couldn't resist.

Barricade smirked through the viewport as Hook bent over the prone Seeker. A nano-klik later an electronic scream exploded from the heavily wounded mech, dampened by the medbay walls but still loud enough to ring in the cruiser's audios. Knowing Hook and his brutal methods, the repairs were usually more painful than the actual injuries. Good. Barricade firmly believed that Starscream deserved everything he got.

The screaming went on for several breems. Barricade was the only one lingering outside of the medbay—in spite of Hook's repeated assurances that the radiation wasn't actually harmful to mechanical life-forms, they still wanted to maintain a safe distance. He was surprised that more didn't wish to take advantage of the second-in-command's disabled state. Barricade himself wasn't interested in murdering Starscream… an unusual mindset for a Decepticon… in his opinion, living would bring the jet more pain.

Finally Hook's work was finished. He left the medbay muttering, covered in energon. Barricade slipped in once he was gone. The medbay was a mess. Energon was splattered everywhere, equipment lay around haphazardly, and in the center of it was Starscream.

The Seeker was in no better shape than his surroundings. One half of his frame was twisted and melted; his legs were new, just attached by Hook; one of his optics was cracked and dark. He looked barely more than a pile of scrap. He glared at Barricade through his remaining optic.

"What do you want?" he rasped, his voice half-obscured by static.

Barricade smirked. "To enjoy the view, of course."

"Go slag yourself."

"You deserve this, you know," Barricade purred. He was glad Frenzy wasn't with him—he didn't want to share this with anyone else. Starscream's optic flared, but he refrained from speaking. Barricade's smirk widened. Oh, this was delicious. "You couldn't even detect the invaders, and they were under your landing struts."

"Like you could have done any better," Starscream snarled.

"And then you let them steal back their big-time squishy, and detonate a bomb right underneath you!"

"Why would they destroy their own city? We had no reason to believe they would do something so—"

"And lost three of your Seekers!" He paused for effect, then added, viciously, "And a half."

Starscream made no reply, but his optic narrowed in a deadly glare and his claws curled into a fist.

"Excellent work," Barricade concluded, showing his fangs in a grin. "In one fell swoop, we are left with two… shall we say… sub-par Seekers and one who can barely move. Oh, we can take the Autobots now. Why not return to Cybertron and retake it in one glorious battle?"

"I fail to see how this is my fault," the incapacitated Air Commander hissed.

"You were responsible for them," Barricade said, meeting Starscream's glare unflinchingly. His Spark surged as he spoke; he wasn't sure why. These were Autobot sentiments spilling from his vocalizer. Surely there was no reason in his programming to get so passionate about this, and yet, each word left him with crushing force, the full weight of his Spark behind it. "In a command position you have mechs' lives in your hands. You take credit for their successes and blame for their failures. Every error is your error." He changed his tone, realizing just how much he sounded like an Autobot. "You could have done more to save them. You know you could have."

Whether it was true or not, the jet's emotional state at the moment was confused enough that he flinched guiltily.

"They were your wingmates… your bondmates… and you let them die. You might as well have done it yourself."

"That's not—!" Starscream started to shriek, but the strain was too much for his damaged vocal processors and his voice dissolved into static. His signal nagged at Barricade's comm, clamoring for a connection, but Barricade shut him out. Let the Seeker scream in silence.

"You can't change it now," said Barricade. "Doesn't that hurt?"

Regret was agonizing. Barricade knew that nothing hurt more. Starscream confirmed that by shuddering against the restraints that held him to Hook's operating table. He found his voice again, but it didn't explode from his as it had before. It was painfully quiet and still riddled with static. Barricade nearly laughed at the tone—it was almost plaintive, almost like a sparkling, desperate—but something stopped him.

"I couldn't… everything was on fire… it just… exploded, there was nothing we… I could have… I couldn't have… everywhere, things flying… things falling, burning… pain…" Suddenly he wailed as though someone had stabbed him through the Spark, until his voice crackled back into silence. In spite of himself, Barricade was unnerved. Unease crept over him and he backed up. This was not what he had expected. He had expected anger, flashing optics, spat curses… not this helpless despair. He had heard of the pain of losing a bondmate, and this pitiful mech had lost two at once.

Disturbed and not sure why, Barricade retreated.