[A/N: So sorry for the long hiatus. It's been really tough getting these last few chapters out. I'm chalking it up to post-partum depression. Heh, didn't think it applied to stories as well. Seriously though, there is an ending in sight, and, I hope, a strong point to be made in the ending of it.
I can't thank you guys enough for all the wonderful reviews that have really been keeping me going on this story the past few months when I almost felt like giving up. I would go back and re-read your wonderful, kind words, and remember the great support I've been getting from both friends and strangers, and that's what's keeping me going on it. So thanks again!
Oh and a sparkling's cry? Think a baby, crossed with a car alarm, crossed with the crows from Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Birds.'
Hope to get a new chapter up sooner than four months…heh. Any comments and critique are greatly, greatly, appreciated. Please let me know that you guys are still interested!]
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Frenzy leaned back in the Med Bay chair, and smiled. And it wasn't his snarky, defensive smile. He drew his legs up onto the oversized seat so that he could rest what he was carefully holding in the crook of his arm on his knee joint. Crasher bowed her head down, trying to get her optic band to focus on the larger black hand tickling the plating on her feet. She squeaked and wiggled. Frenzy smiled genuinely again, and continued gently prodding till she squealed and kicked against his hand.
From his workstation nearby, Hoist observed out of the corner of his visor. "Watch the cables," he gently reminded.
Frenzy frowned and pressed the external current adaptor tighter into the artificial socket installed on his sparkling's chest. Squealing in protest, Crasher's faceplates squinched into a grimace and a high pitched alarm came wailing out her mouth. Frenzy felt his spark sink. The crying. While Crasher's overall health had gained in micro-increments over the last week, Frenzy knew her crying was getting stronger every day.
"Slag." Frenzy muttered, jostling the two-week old sparkling up and down like he'd seen First Aid do many times. Rather than soothing her, the bouncing only made Crasher more frantic. Her crying slid up a pitch and Frenzy slammed his head against the back of the chair in frustration. He stopped trying to rock her, and held her limp in his arms, helplessly watching her howling.
After a moment Hoist spoke up again from his workstation. "What else should you try?"
"Fragged if I know." Frenzy bit out through clenched dentals.
"Think." Hoist coaxed over the pulsing alarm coming from the sparkling.
Frenzy let out a strangled sigh of frustration, glaring down at his screaming daughter. "Come on Crash," he mumbled, "It's okay. Just. Just shut up for a second okay." He tried to make his voice lilt and coo like First Aid, or heck even Ironhide, was good at doing, but when he heard it in his own audials it sounded almost menacing. Still, after a few moments of talking, Crasher's screams dialed down to a distressed whine.
"Remember: hold her closer." Hoist prompted. Frenzy shot a jealous glare at Hoist, but the green maintenance bot was turned to his workstation and keeping busy. Frenzy gathered Crasher close to his chestplate, and hunched over her, mumbling. Almost instantly her whine died away to a whimper. The Mini-Cassette patted her gently on the back and whispered at her, frowning at the thought of the Autobot's optics on them.
"That's good," the green truck turned from his station. "You're getting better at this."
Frenzy shrugged, dismissive, and tried not to look at the grey and red sparkling nestling against him. "Where's Aid?" he asked. "I thought Aid was supposed to be here."
"The Protectobots called him out. I didn't hear what for, but it must have been important."
Crasher whined again and Frenzy glared at Hoist, practically demanding the Autobot turn around and mind his own business. The older 'Bot got the hint and as soon as his back was turned Frenzy was again whispering at his sparkling, running his finger across healing welds on her plating, and toying gently with her tiny hands.
The Med Bay doors opened and Ironhide entered. He cracked a smile at the sight of Frenzy and Crasher, but was careful to drop it when the young mech turned in the chair to face him.
"Checkin' up on me?" Frenzy sneered halfheartedly.
"Ya weren't at Re-Fuel, I figured ya musta come here so you could see 'er before work." Ironhide leaned against a medberth casually. "Heard Bumblebee's out on patrol, so he wasn't there ta pester ya ta go to the Fill-up."
"I had some energon here." Frenzy stood, Crasher close to his plating, and put her back in the sparkberth. She whimpered as he put her down, thrashing irritably as he rearranged the few cables still attached directly to her. "Shut it Crash," he shushed at her, then gave her his fingers to play with, but glared at Ironhide just the same. "Sittin around for Fill-up's just a huge waste of time anyway. I'm already snoozin' through half your fraggin day, why waste time listenin' to a buncha slaggers shootin' the shit?"
"Would it kill ya to try an' make some friends?" Ironhide asked.
Frenzy snorted. "It might. Hell, hasn't it come close a couple times? But apparently for the past week Captain Spaz has managed to keep the assassins at bay."
Ironhide didn't reply, rather he dipped his large hand into the sparkberth and allowed Crasher to grasp the very tip of his finger. The old mech felt a grin creep across his mouth even in the face of Frenzy's withering glare. "How's the work goin'?" the older Autobot asked casually.
"It's almost over." Frenzy grumbled, "Just a couple more days."
"That bad huh?"
"Ya know if I hadn't had to work with a bunch of lube-sucking exhaust ports it would be easier to make friends," Frenzy said 'make friends' with the same tone of normally used to say 'contract virulent strains of cosmic rust'.
Ironhide sighed. "Look, just, just try, okay kid? I know Huffer an' Beachcomber can be a little-"
"I'm not talking 'bout those slaggers. They leave me the hell alone. I'm talkin' 'bout Brawn. And fraggin' Sideswipe."
"What does Sideswi-"
"Doesn't matter. I'm handling it." Frenzy clipped. The Minicassette pulled away from Crasher, ignoring her protesting whine, and brushed his hands off on his chest, running them over the round bolt shape of his probationary locator beacon, the now useless cassette reels, and the scarred and marred remnants of his Decepticon insignia. To Ironhide it seemed he was trying to brush the aura of parenthood away now that there were too many witnesses in the room. "We'll be fine. If I don't beat his slaggin' head in." Frenzy abruptly turned for the door. "Gotta go. If I'm late I get my aft chewed."
"See ya arou-" But Frenzy was out the Med Bay door before Ironhide could finish.
"Well someone recharged with his plugs in backwards." Hoist commented, walking up to the sparkberth.
Ironhide shrugged and dangled his thick grey finger in front of Crasher's visor. The sparkling regarded it seriously, reached up with both hands, and after a few misses managed to grab hold of the very end of it. Ironhide grinned again, completely in spite of himself. "Yeah, been like that fer four days. Almost since work started. Damned if I know why. You an' Aid are gonna have a blast with 'im this evening during MPT, I can just tell."
Hoist began gathering together detailing equipment to do the fine cleaning on Crasher's smaller parts, a task Frenzy hadn't quite gotten the hang of yet. "First Aid and I are actually starting with Memory Core Analysis, before we move on to the Meta-Processor Therapy."
"You're takin' 'im right into that?" Ironhide scoffed. "The kid's got the self-concept of a broken laser disk player, and you take 'im right into his whole screwed-up past? Before figuring out who he thinks he's supposed to be first? Doesn't Primary Function usually come first?" Ironhide was no processor therapist, of course, but every 'Bot had seen one at one time or another, mostly on Optimus' orders. The Autobot leader wanted his soldiers healthy, in every respect.
Hoist put down a tin of wax, and picked up a soft chamois. "In this case we have to, Ironhide. First Aid thinks—and I agree—that it's possible that the majority of the information stored on Frenzy's Memory Core is mislabeled, misfiled, and poorly linked, to the point of forcible isolation and full on indexing errors. Frenzy has to see the his past clearly and completely before he can come to terms with himself."
"Yeah, yeah." Ironhide waved him off, looking down at Crasher thoughtfully. "Just be careful with him, okay? I know Aid means well, but there's stuff he's jus' never gonna see deep enough ta fix."
Hoist patted the other Autobot fraternally, and Ironhide did his best not to shrug off the awkward reassurance. "Yes, of course we'll take it slow. Start with the basics. Not all of it is quite as… sensitive. I'm sure we have a lot of mislabeled information to wade through. Because denial is more than just a river in Egypt; sometimes it becomes a whole way of life."
XXXXXXX
There were a lot of reasons for Frenzy to hate this ridiculous job. Heat, lava, rules, Autobots. The sheer banality of tedious, careful, demolition work. On the other hand, he got to smash stuff, which almost outweighed all the negatives. He pulled back, pile drivers at the ready, and scrutinized the neon pink line painted around the base of a stalagmite on the cavern floor. He glanced to his right at the lava pool, and his left where Brawn and Sideswipe were methodically dismantling a huge, rock column. Frenzy sucked hot, heavy air through his fans, and let pile-drivers bite into the rock. He was careful to hold back, only use just enough force to shatter the stalagmite.
On the first day of demolitions Frenzy had been overly enthusiastic, still worked up over Crasher's close call from couple days before, and slammed into a rock column with enough force to open a huge stress fracture on the cavern ceiling. Much to his surprise he wasn't yelled at for it. Instead he was subjected to hours of low-level, drawn-out, scorn from Sideswipe, Brawn, and Huffer in the form of complaints, comments, and dirty looks as they repaired the fissure. It'd been twice as infuriating as a full-on beating would have been. Later on in the day Huffer eased-off after he heard about Crasher's brush with death; and a muttered comment from the engineer shut up Sideswipe and Brawn. But now that the sparkling was rumored to be on the mend, the looks and comments were coming back around.
As Frenzy broke the stalagmite off at the base, a small, yellow semi-truck pulling a wagon of rubble pulled up next to Frenzy's crushed stalagmite. Huffer transformed and grabbed the largest chunks of broken rock from around Frenzy's worksite, throwing them effortlessly into the cart. He pointed to a nearby column.
"You think you can handle that one?" The Autobot asked.
Frenzy nodded and ignited his thrusters. Damn, but it felt good to fly again. Not being able to transform was hard enough. If he hadn't been able to fly, if there hadn't been some kind of specialized action that he was still master of, Frenzy didn't know what he would do. He held his drivers at ready as he flew up to get started loosening the top of the column.
"Hey!" the call was sharp, "We're handling that one!" Frenzy looked down where Brawn was shaking a fist at him. "We're taking that one down next." He pointed to an outcropping of low, lumpy stalagmites closer to the lava and consequently the heat. "You take those."
Frenzy frowned, anger and annoyance building up. "Huffer told me to do this one," he retorted, turning his away and raising a pile-driver to the rock. He heard a crackling rush behind him, and felt a presence hovering menacingly over his shoulder. Frenzy glanced out of the corner of his optic at the jet-packed Autobot Warrior looming midair near him.
"We're doing this one." Sideswipe was clearly using every ounce of his will to stay passably civil. "It's on a fault line, understand. It requires finesse. And you're not the only one who can fly." Sideswipe pointed to the short, stumpy stalagmites. "There's a lot to do over there. There's plenty of little rocks you can smash without damaging the cavern. Over there."
If looks could kill, Sideswipe would be just another pool of melted slag in the cavern. His battle-rage singing in his head, Frenzy could feel himself just seconds away from smashing the smug Autobot's helmet between the column and one round flat pile-driver. Looks were usually nonlethal, but pile-drivers were another story. Nothing was stopping him from murder but the barest ounce of control he'd gained from dealing with Starscream back at Decepticon Headquarters. That didn't mean he was backing down though. "Huffer told me—"
At the base of the column Huffer held up both hands innocently. "Hey, it was just a suggestion. Don't go dragging me into a useless fight." The engineer transformed and pulled the wagon over to the short stalagmites. "No need to argue over who gets to do the hard work."
Sideswipe nodded to the engineer, satisfied smile on his faceplates. "Thanks Huffer." He turned his back on the Decepticon defector and started beating away the top of the column.
Frenzy was not in the mood to be dismissed. "I could have done it." he protested.
Sideswipe didn't face him. "It's not worth arguing about." the warrior muttered, hammering away with his small, square drivers. "Let's just get this done so it's finished."
Frenzy flew down to the stalagmites and got to work. Not because he had given in, but because if he didn't get to smashing something that second he knew he was going to snap. He pounded into the lumpy rock formations furiously. Chips of stone flew from under his drivers.
"Hey! Watch it!" Huffer cried, as a rain of volcanic rock pelted against his plating. Frenzy slammed against the stalagmite again. "No need to get so worked up about it!" Huffer whined. "Frenzy?"
"What!" Frenzy snapped, bristling with frustration. "What do you have ta bitch about this time!"
Huffer's mouthplates shut with an audible click. Behind the Autobot's surprise was the barest glimmer of fear, fear that thrilled Frenzy. The small semi turned away and got started throwing rubble into the wagon. "You were hitting me with rock chips," the engineer muttered.
"Then go work somewhere else," Frenzy fumed, pounding away at the next short, misshapen stalagmite.
"Oh, grow the hell up." Brawn growled as he approached to throw a hunk of the dismantled column into the wagon. The demolitions expert brushed his hands off and gave Frenzy a meaningful glare.
"What did you say?" Frenzy's pile drivers were out, and looking less and less like tools by the astrosecond.
"You're gonna stay with us, you're gonna have to learn to work with us." Brawn wagged his finger. "Everybody pulls their own weight here. Together."
"I am working." Frenzy hissed.
"Good." Brawn crossed his arms over his chest, looking not only irritated but uncharacteristically thoughtful. Almost somber. "Because you got a lot to make up for."
"What does that mean?" Frenzy demanded. The sweltering air crackled around the infuriated Mini-Cassette. Brawn regarded him critically, but then relented, dropping every posture of aggression.
"Bah, forget it. Let's get this done." He barked, and wandered back his pile of rocks.
Sideswipe had landed, and was leaning against the rubble of the dismantled column, watching the altercation. Frenzy glared at him, and the red warrior shook his head turning away, muttering to himself.
Murderer
Everything in the room was arranged to be soothing, from the dim lighting, to the chairs carefully positioned to look casual, to the workstation nudged to the side, providing half a barrier between two of the chairs. Only half a barrier, that was important. The room was sparse otherwise, intimate yet spacious. But here and there in the corner and on the workstation, were little bits of things, tiny pools of complexity to draw the optic. A few technical models repurposed as knick-knacks, a couple fractals hanging on the wall in swirls of pure artistic math. This was Hoist's office.
Murderer
Hoist was the Autobot remaining on base with the most training in meta-processor therapies., Since being isolated on Earth it had become his passion, though it hadn't been his original field. The tolerant maintenance 'Bot had spent countless eons tuning-up Autobot bodies; it wasn't too far of a leap to begin working on Autobot minds. Optimus was glad for it, and though Hoist kept his original medical role, Optimus wouldn't hesitate to send a mech who needed a little verbal realignment to Hoist for a 'special chat' either.
Murderer
Hoist sat in one chair, behind the desk. First Aid sat in another next to him. The chair with the sullen Frenzy in it sat across a pool of dim, warm light on the floor. Hoist glanced over at the nearly faceless mech beside him, and wondered for the fifth or sixth time if it was a good idea for both of them to be in here at once. Patients should never feel outnumbered, but First Aid, as kind and oblivious as ever, had insisted that Frenzy needed both Hoist's expertise and the familiarity provided by the Autobot doctor. First Aid gently repeated his question.
Murderer
"Do you know what a Primary Function is, Frenzy?"
Frenzy shrugged. "I'm sure you'll tell me." He crossed his arms over his chest, defenses at maximum.
First Aid nodded to Hoist, who eased back in his chair to explain. Hoist knew it was important to appear casual, especially when things were at their most clinical. "Sometimes it's a hard concept to master Frenzy; but, simply put, a Primary Function is why you think you are, and what you think you do."
"That's slaggin' simply put? Cuz' it didn't make any sense." Frenzy scoffed.
"Alright, an example then," Hoist pointed to himself. "I am a maintenance bot, I drag my friends in for tune-ups they don't think they need because I want everyone feeling their best, not just good enough to get by. And I'm very good at my job. I enjoy my work, and I feel called to do it. A Primary Function is what you are called to do." Hoist leaned in, still casually, in order to increase confidence for the next question. "Is there anything you feel like that about, Frenzy? Do you have a Primary Function?"
Murderer.
Frenzy shifted in his chair so he could see the edge of the door. "Uh...I'm good at breakin' shit. Warrior? Maybe?" Warrior brought back visions of Sideswipe in the cavern; his disgusted mouthplates still forming the word 'murderer', but Frenzy mentally flipped the Red Lamborghini the one-fingered salute, and finally locked away the murderous refrain that had been playing in his mind. I'll deal with that slagger later.
"Mm-hmmm." Hoist nodded. "Good. Well, we'll get into all that eventually, I just wanted an idea where we were starting at."
First Aid rested his elbows on his knees, also appearing casual. "Do you know what Memory Core Analysis is Frenzy?"
"Like an interrogation?" Frenzy mimed drilling into his optic band with a finger and a sneer.
"No. No for Primus'sake no." Hoist laughed uncomfortably. "Information in the Memory Core can get mislabeled and misfiled, and can cause errors in reasoning and judgment. In MCA we'll walk you through some memories, facts, make sure you have them filed correctly. Make sure you understand correctly what really happened rather than just your perceptions of it."
"So we're just talking? About my memories?"
"Yes."
"Can't I just get interrogated instead?" Frenzy whined.
"Does the idea of this make you feel uncomfortable Frenzy?" First Aid asked.
"No." Frenzy snapped. "It just sounds boring as slag. Like...watching slag cool. In hell."
First Aid laughed. "Well, that's why we have a short session tonight, Frenzy. So why don't we just start from the beginning? And take it slow and easy. Okay?"
Frenzy sighed and slumped in his chair. "Okay." It was the most unenthusiastic okay of all time.
Hoist leaned, ever so carefully casual, on the half-barrier of a desk. "Okay. We'll start with some of your earliest memories then."
"Umm, okay. Whatever."
"What would you say your earliest memory is?" Hoist asked.
Frenzy frowned at his feet. "Uh… I don't know."
First Aid prompted him. "Is anything coming to mind? Any memory at all?"
"Nope."
Hoist nodded, knowingly. "That's probably because your memories are inaccurately labeled. Have you ever attempted to recall events from when you were a sparkling? Or youngling?"
"Why would I?"
"The question is more accurately, why wouldn't you?" Hoist's voice took on a more concerned tone. "There is the possibility that your mind isolated this information, kept if from linking with other data, to protect you."
Now Frenzy was getting nervous. "Protect me from what?"
"Unpleasant memories, Frenzy." Hoist once again leaned back to give Frenzy space. "Things that attack our ideas on how the universe is supposed to be, or how we are supposed to be in it. Your core processor may have gone to great lengths to bury these memory files."
Frenzy sighed. "So, earliest memories are a no-go then?"
"Not exactly. We'll just have to trace them back. Do you remember joining the Decepticons?"
Frenzy's face knotted up with the effort. His optic band focusing on one of the fractals hanging on the wall. In his processor was the disconcerting feeling of error-ridden memories sliding back and forth around each other, broken up by long spans of darkness. Still, there was something there. A word at least. "Darkmount?" he said finally.
"What about it?"Hoist coaxed.
"I don't fraggin' know."Frenzy shrugged helplessly. "What do you know about it?"
"Darkmount was a Decepticon fortress, a factory." First Aid explained. "Megatron used some of his cronies to run it and the surrounding city."
"The city...Polyhex?" Frenzy was surprised how easily the name came to him.
"Yes. That's right Frenzy."First Aid nodded. "But what about it?"
"Was there... a fight in Polyhex? The last fight there? A really long one?"
"Yes." Hoist answered. "The Autobots lay siege to Polyhex for months. Many Earth months. The Decepticons eventually had to abandon it and pull back to Kaon. It was the last major Autobot victory in the War."
Other cities came spilling back into Frenzy's mind. Vos, Tarn, Praxus, Althiex...Kalis and Tyrest.
Tyrest. The name meant something to him, but his jumbled datatracks only coughed out wads of half-remembered longing, and nothing else.
"Darkmount then." Frenzy said. "During the siege, they brought us to Darkmount, just Rumble and me and not the others. And we became Decepticons." The memory suddenly crystallized in his processor, in warped color and static, but complete, comprehensible. Rumble sitting close, shoulder to his shoulder in the dark trailer, the engine humming, speeding, and jostling them; until the sudden stop. The hands hastily sweeping them out of the back of the transport. Darkmount and Soundwave there, waiting. Tall and silent, in the glow of the smelting pools and the fires of the burning city.
"The 'others'?" First Aid asked giving Hoist a sideways glance. "Who were the 'others'?"
"I...I...They were like us, but we weren't—they kept us kinda away." These memories were barely coherent, every few seconds bringing another hitch or blank. "They were other younglings I guess. Everyone had their little place, and we all waited, for everything. But… there was lots of yelling when only we left. Only we- me an' Rumble- got called up, and not the others."
"Where was this?"Hoist sounded like he half knew the answer.
At first Frenzy shrugged; but then made an effort to remember, trying to trace the transport back in his mind. He shrugged again for real. "Somewhere boring." His processor found an abandoned label. He added it with a burst of clarity, "Polyhex. Hired Guardian."
First Aid turned in his chair to face Hoist. "That sounds plausible. Polyhex was one of the last refuges for Decepticon-allied civilians, factory workers and the like."
Hoist nodded. "I remember. And I know they 'encouraged'- probably forced- their workers to turn their younglings over to hired guardians. It freed them up to work long factory hours." Hoist drummed his fingers on the work-station, deliberating. "When the Decepticons pulled out of Polyhex...I heard of mass suicides, executions. Anyone who couldn't be moved, anyone who couldn't be useful, killed rather than let them fall into Autobot hands."
Frenzy frowned at the two Autobots, suddenly, intensely, uncomfortable. All the others? No wonder they were pissed.
"Was Rumble with you the whole time?" Hoist asked, attention back on Frenzy.
"Yes."
"Think back." First Aid challenged. "Was there ever a time when Rumble wasn't with you?"
"No." There was no moment of reflection. He didn't need it.
"And you are sure that he's your brother?" Hoist leaned forward.
"Yes."Frenzy was annoyed at the question.
"Why?" Hoist asked.
"Uhh… what?"
"How do you know he's your brother? There must be a reason you know this." Hoist asked calmly, but it still threw Frenzy for a loop.
"I- I don't remember."
"Okay." Hoist glanced at First Aid, who seemed a little lost as well. "Then we'll try a different way. Tell us about Rumble."
"What about Rumble?"
"What's he like?" First Aid offered.
"Haven't you met him?" Frenzy demanded.
Hoist shook his head, bemused. "I mean, what's he like to you?"
"Rumble is...uhh... He's older." Frenzy frowned as he thought. "I mean, we're the same age, but he's always been...bigger? He can handle himself better. When he fights he's not completely off his gears like I am. He stays kinda more in control. And he's stronger."
"Stronger how?"
Frenzy carefully organized his thoughts into something almost coherent. "He can handle himself around the rest'a the old 'Con crew better. He just puts up with shit different. He doesn't get...frozen."
"And you do?" First Aid asked.
"No. I mean, yeah. Yeah, for some stuff. And then he's there, to back me up. To pull me outta the slag. I mean we've got each other's back," A pause, then slower, "I mean we did." Frenzy felt a pang, but continued, "But I always seemed to need my aft pulled outta the smelter more often."
"Like when?" Hoist encouraged.
"Like when I let Hound and that big slagger, Skyfire, get to the shield generator. That big oil grab thing. With the fleshies' supercomputer. I fell for a stupid hologram trick, left my post, and the whole plan went to the Pit. Megatron was gonna have my diodes on a golden disk, but Rumble kept me under the radar until things blew over. Soundwave was another story; but Rumble kept Megatron offa my back."
"How?"
Frenzy shrugged, but crossed his arms over his chest tighter with a barely perceptible shudder.
First Aid glanced to Hoist. There was a tiny shake of the doctor's head, and Hoist quickly changed the subject.
"What about before, in Polyhex? Did he watch your back then?"
"Yeah, I guess." Frenzy's face was twisted with the effort of thinking. He stared at the fractals, following the math as he tried to trace damaged files. "They kept us together. We recharged together, and...I didn't like not having him close. Always had to know where he was."
"How mature were you when you first came to the guardians?"First Aid was already trying to put a timeline together.
"Hell if I know."
"Frenzy," Hoist reproved, "We're trying to trace you back to origins. Now think. Run a full system search. Try searching for recharging with Rumble. That link may not be under protection warnings. It may get us in past isolation.
"Yeah, but..." Frenzy's optics flared for a moment, and he sat straight up like he'd been jolted. "I...I...Where was Tyrest?"
"Decepticon city." First Aid answered, startled. "Close to Kalis, but pretty far from Polyhex. Why?"
"There...was something there?"
"Yeah, some of the first combiner battles." Hoist and First Aid shared sideways glances that Frenzy ignored. "But nothing of real strategic value, except that the Autobots held Kalis and the Decepticons Tyrest. For a while, before they were abandoned, the city was just one big warzone."
"When, after Polyhex?"
First Aid shook his head. "No before. Why? Are you remembering anything about it? Are you recalling data or memory files? Is it encrypted transcript or audio and visual files?"
What was he remembering? In between hitches and blanks where his core processor had tried to isolate and break down the memory files, there were fleeting ghosts of images and snatches of distorted sound. The watchful dark, with glows from the windows. His brother's arms and his arms, tangled so tight together they were almost one. In the box, no, just a box, together. A soft box, with a sturdy little gate made of meshed wires. And in the dark, across from the box, a slender shadow watching the window, outlined against the flaring lights, talking. Soothing. Voice hidden and muffled by the explosions from outside and the static of files too long neglected. Outside the window the sky was raining orange fire against blackness and stars. Fire and stars.
"Frenzy?" Hoist inclined his head, concerned.
"Nothing. I—It doesn't mean anything. I, think there's too many slaggin' errors. In all of it. No way I'm gonna remember anything worth all this shit." Frenzy waved them off. "I, I gotta go. I mean, I don' wanna miss Crasher's feeding tonight. I got slag ta do." The Minicassette hopped off the chair and brushed himself off. "We're done." He said flatly.
XXXXXXXXXX
Frenzy glared at the chronometer on his computer terminal. He should have been recharging for the last four hours, but not with the way his processor was whirling and his tanks were churning. Wheeljack's recharge machine was up on a shelf, but Frenzy had been wary of it since the time it had jolted him awake at Laserbeak's command. The part of him that was exhausted was furious at the stubborn parts of him that were buzzing with anxiety, but he was going to try and get wound down on his own.
He sat at his terminal drumming his fingers on the keyboard, more than perfectly aware that there was absolutely nothing interesting to do on his computer. But it kept his mind off things. He brought up another parental instruction program, but after scanning Diagram A. 'Applying Wax To Sparkling Plating" And Diagram B. 'Removing Wax From Sparkling Plating' he shut the terminal down and wandered over to the other end of the room. Frenzy sat down on the edge of his berth, but then got up and shuffled over to the blue corner of the room.
He inattentively started rearranging the objects in the sparkling's corner. Chamois, solvents, and sponges on the bottom shelf. Toys on the top. On second thought, Frenzy gathered up all the toys in his arms and wandered over to the berth with them. Sitting on the berth with the brightly colored, many buttoned cubes, balls, and mobiles he poked and played with them in the clinical manner of a being who never had anything to play with that didn't scream and bleed.
He let his mind wander back to the corrupted memory chips he'd rediscovered. The hired guardian. They hadn't had toys, or nothing like these anyway. Garbage, Frenzy thought, junk and old busted slag...that's what we played with. Frenzy fiddled with Hound's holographic mobile while his processor mulled over the broken scraps of memory he'd found.
Rumble and Frenzy in Polyhex. They'd played 'weapons', axes and blasters made from old bits of pipe, wires, twisted metal sheets. When the guardian wasn't close, the younglings would all viciously attack each other in deadly serious imitation of the big warrior 'Cons they saw walking the streets. The younglings hoarded their weapons, ganged up, all picking on the weakest, or the strongest, jostling for superiority; but never Rumble against Frenzy.
Rumble and Frenzy were by far the smallest, and treated differently, kept apart from the others, and watched closer. And no creators ever came to see them during visiting hours. No haggard, smoke stained, wrecks ever wandered in to look at them for a couple cycles. These work-weary husks would stand by the wall, half a room away from the younglings, and stare at them; unwilling or unable to bridge the distance between. The ghost of a broken bond turned into only the sparsest right, the right to witness, paralyzed. All but the thin claim of creator to creation dissolved away and alienated.
Rumble and Frenzy had no one but each other. They clung to this fiercely and instinctively. In a universe where everyone and everything was bigger, stronger, and out for themselves, Rumble and Frenzy together could hold their own. Alone, they made for easy targets. Frenzy shivered and batted the memory away.
Frenzy leaned back on his berth and triggered the mobile, watching the shifting globes of light join and separate, blending colorfully in time to the rhythmic music. He set the mobile on the far edge of the berth, dimmed the lights, and curled up on his side watching the show. His fingers traced the silvery scars on his chest where his nanites were breaking down the welds and rebuilding his plating. A slash of silver ran right over his Decepticon insignia, cutting it in two. With all his strength he willed himself to fall asleep alone.
Somewhere in his processor, a carefully constructed firewall was breaking down one line of coding at a time, and behind it were a hundred distorted horrors clamoring to be relived. Frenzy, exhausted and terrified, watched the mobile dance and desperately tried to remember how he'd taught himself to forget.
No, Fuck no, not that one, he thought to himself, his tanks turning. Or that. Fuck. Stop it. He flopped onto his back, but with a shudder sat up again, resting his head in his hands helplessly. Again and again he dragged his processor away from the waiting arms of a nightmare, and the struggle dredged up more old memories. Finally he stumbled into one that was, at least, bearable, and, unthinkingly, he settled into it, too tired to fight.
Salty, slimy waves lapped against a mossy line where the ocean met the rock. Dripping, Frenzy scrabbled for a better position on the cold slick rock, and stared into the empty dark sea. At his feet beneath the water he could see the slope of the continental shelf slide down into black abyss. Behind him, obscured by distance and fog, was a shoreline he couldn't see. The rock was solitary, no bigger around than a sub-compact car, jutting barely above the waterline, a tiny island forced into the air by some earthquake or eruption on the cliff's edge where the ocean floor dropped away from the water-piercing light.
The salt from the sea was beginning to crust and dry on his plating. Especially in his joints after his long swim from Decepticon Base. He stared down at his hands, already feeling the itchy microcrystals begin to form in the hairline cracks between his fingerplates. He frowned and ran his finger gingerly down the front of his chestplate, around the edges, making sure that his chassis was locked tight, despite the ache. He had a sudden fear of salt water getting to his internals, corroding his circuitry. He checked his chestplate hinges, and noticed one was a little loose, still sore. Bent? He brushed it off frantically, but then stopped himself, putting both hands purposefully on his kneecaps and glaring at the waves. It's shut, dammit, that's all the tighter it ever fraggin shut. He told himself this, but a twisting blind panic in Frenzy wondered if his chestplates would ever feel shut enough.
Shit, stop it, forget it. Nobody else thinks it's a big deal, so slaggin' get over yourself. Frenzy deliberately shut that part of his processor down and instead focused on exactly how long he could sit out here before he needed to scrape up the nerve to go back to Base. It was a nice, neutral train of thought, so Frenzy savored his indecision for at least half an hour. Until he heard a splashing behind him.
He whirled around just in time to see two purple hands, and between them a wide smirk beneath a red visor. Rumble pushed Frenzy from the rock with a splash and then climbed atop it. He stood, hands on hips, watching and grinning as his brother struggled to scramble back on the tiny island.
"What the frag Rumble?" Frenzy growled pulling himself up out of the water, and then standing. "What the hell didja do that for?"
The purple cassetticon shrugged, a 'who me?' expression on his faceplates. "Aww come on Frenzy...lighten the hell up. It's no big deal."
Frenzy turned away, arms crossed tight. "Fuck off. Ya think I came up here cuz' I wanted slaggin' company?"
Rumble snorted and punched him on the shoulder. "Where were you last night huh?" He asked, leering.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Frenzy leered back, "Go to the Pit."
After regarding him up and down, Rumble laughed, "Heh. New scratches." He gave his brother a poke on the chest. "And ya got some grey paint on you."
Frenzy's fist came out of nowhere catching his brother on the jaw and sending him flying backwards into the ocean. Turning so he didn't even see the splash, Frenzy considered leaving, but something kept him rooted to the rock, and the moment. He sat down, curled tight, and didn't watch his brother pull himself out of the water to sit beside him. There was an uncharacteristic silence between the brothers, and over them both a heavy weight loomed.
"Look." Rumble's voice was low. "What I meant to say was, uh..." He sighed, for a moment in every way the older brother, "Look. It's. I know that what happened—that it isn't—wasn't really..."as he trailed off Rumble drew his legs up to his chest, crossed his arms around himself. His next sigh was ragged, "Look. Frenzy. I should have warned you."
"Warned me?" Frenzy turned his head, Rumble was looking at the waves lapping against the slimy rock, his face unreadable.
"Yeah. I should have warned you about him. Ya know he does that with everybody right? But I thought that...that maybe with the two of us being so alike, and you being in the box so much, that maybe he just wouldn't think..." Rumble stopped when Frenzy shuddered against him. "But. But I should have at least warned you, you know, so you would know what to—I don't know—what to expect."
The realization slowly dawned. "You mean...you too?"
"Oh. Yeah. Of course." Rumble replied lightly, but lifelessly; he was turned so his face was obscured.
"For how long?"
"A while, I guess. I don't know."
"And, and a lot?" Frenzy felt a sudden surge of fear.
"Naw, not really." Rumble patted him on the shoulder, and then left his hand there gripping his arm. "Ya get used to it. Really. I don't even think about it anymore. Just, just try not to think about it, okay? Okay Frenzy?"
Frenzy nodded. "Okay," he offered, meekly. Rumble dropped the arm, but so they sat supporting each other.
"And. And Frenzy?" Rumble's voice was tight, Frenzy had never heard him like this before. "Frenzy, I'm sorry I didn't warn you."
The two brothers sat on the rock, leaning on each other. Around them the ocean and the sky stretched away to emptiness. Rumble and Frenzy sat watching it silently, uncharacteristically still. Rumble gripped his brother's hand, they sat back to back supporting each other, alone together.
