A Race Through the Night

Chapter 3

Monsters


Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers.

A huge thanks to all my beloved readers, and most of all to my dear reviewers, whose input gives me joy and authorial inspiration. Also, huge thanks to my amazing sister/beta enmused.

Remember, for best effect, read everything Blurr says at high speed. Enjoy!


Her optics came online and the femme sat up groggily, reaching her arms together over helm and stretching her struts lazily. Taking in a huge draft of air, she frowned, looking around with wary and confused optics.

She was on a berth. A nicer berth than she'd slept on for quartex. A berth that she very much didn't recall falling asleep in.

The room she was in was still just as dark as when she'd been lulled to sleep by the friendly rambling of the mech. His words had failed to process after a certain point of exhaustion. So the question was, where was Blurr and why was she on his berth?

The sniper crawled over the expanse of the berth to look over its edge curiously, her still recharge-fuzzy processors not mentioning the absurdity of looking for an Autobot under the bed. Which went to explain her mild shock when the mech was actually there, slumped against the end of the bed in what couldn't possibly be a comfortable position, with his winged helm resting on his chest

A twinge of guilt went through her as she stared at the handsome Autobot recharging on the floor. He shouldn't have given up his own berth for her; she'd been sleeping on floors and in corners for half a vorn, one more night wouldn't have hurt.

After about a klick, at which point her processors were functioning more normally, Nightracer fell backwards on the berth with a start as she recalled that it was most likely considered rude to stare at people while they recharged.

She scooted herself back against the headboard of the berth with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her tanks gave a disgruntled rumble, making the femme pull her pedes tighter to her chest in a vain attempt to muffle the loud complaints of her empty fuel tanks. She craned her neck upward to try and see if the light blue mech had been woken.

Thankfully not.

Nightracer swung her pedes off the edge of the berth and glanced around awkwardly, chewing on her lip. This was so weird. It was like being the first awake when she and the other Con femmes had a sleep-over. Only even more awkward, considering she wasn't really welcome here.

She tip-toed over to where she knew the door was supposed to be and ran her hands over the smooth silvery-blue wall in search of seams that she knew she wouldn't be able to find. She'd been flung into the room by inadvertently running into the door. So maybe if she just pushed on it?

The femme reached out a servo and tentatively poked the wall, feeling incredibly foolish. She laid her whole hand on it and pushed a bit harder, still bringing no fruit. She leaned her shoulder into the cool metal and shoved as hard as she could. To no avail.

"Stupid ship." She growled quietly, trying again.

"Good morning, having difficulties shoving the wall down, 'Race?"

She jumped in shock, straightening stiffly, shuttering her optics and venting deeply at both the mech's awaking and at the nickname. Nightracer turned around slowly, her tone flat, "I'm nowhere near the door, am I."

Blurr just grinned and shook his helm, getting to his pedes and standing in front of her with two full cubes of Energon in the blink of an optic, startling her yet again. "Here you go, your tanks' rumbling woke me up a lil' bit ago, so I figured you could probably use some fuel. Also, the door's actually three steps to your right, in case you were wondering, cause you're gonna find opening the wall right there to be kinda problematic. Just saying."

Receiving the proferred Energon with a smirk and an annoyed look, Nightracer refused to grace him with a reply to that, simply moving three steps to her right and turning to glare at the wall. She sipped at her cube and ran two servos - the uninjured ones - along the cool surface, resuming her search for some sign of a door.

The invisible door thing was going to drive her mad if she couldn't figure it out. Not to mention how damaging to her self-esteem it was to be too dumb to find a door of all things. Not exactly what would normally be classed as rocket science.

"You want me to open the door for you, cause I could do that if you wanted." Blurr shrugged, sipping at his own Energon from where he was now leaning casually against the wall, his feet kicked forward and his ankles crossed, his whole posture relaxed and trusting as he watched her scrutinize the wall, "I mean, I can leave you to try to glare holes through the reinforced cybertanium too, if you're more the independent type."

Flipping back the mask that had slid forward without her knowledge, Nightracer ignored the mech for nearly a breem, passing him her empty cube without even looking at him as she crouched down to continue her investigation. After another three breems of Blurr just standing watching her with an amused smirk, his arms crossed over his chest as he propped himself up on the wall.

At long last, the sniper got up and glared at the smug mech, even though her lips just kept smiling, "Fine, you win. Open the door."

"I thought you'd never ask, I mean you seemed so content to just pet the door, glowering like Magnus when he's happy." The speedster held up a servo to catch her attention before zipping around, picking her up by her shoulders and setting her to the side like one would a turbo-pup that had sat down in the way, "Now, watch and learn!"

She blinked at being so suddenly displaced before returning her focus to the door. Blurr snapped his servos once, causing the wall to shift and warp briefly before the wide door was visible, then he simply pushed against the side of the door, spinning it around until it closed again with him on the other side. A moment later as the door kept spinning, the blue mech was back in the room, grinning like a sparkling.

"I know, right? The doors are sound-locked and they're spinny, how cool is that? C'mon, tell me that's the awesomest thing ever." He flashed around the door a couple more times at full speed, before stopping again, "See? I even did it in slow motion the first time, just so you could see how utterly awesome my ship is. I've been wanting to show it off to someone for quartex, ever since I found it after everyone left. Try it!"

Nightracer cocked an optic ridge, a dryly amused smile on her lips. "Just how long has it been since you've had contact with other people?"

"Uh, let's see, couple quartex?" Blurr muttered finally, his servos twitching in a nervous blur, "You can tell can't you? Cause you're a Con and I'm a weirdo and I'm treating you as though we haven't been fighting a massive civil war, slaughtering each other brutally and mercilessly for six millenia."

She laughed and warily spun through the door, her trust of the revolving door somewhat tainted by the door having winded her and left her on the floor last time she went through it. The femme let out a triumphant giggle when she got through unharmed. She'd never been fond of revolving doors. Especially the automatic ones in the citadel, that turn constantly, just a bit too fast for comfort.

"So... exploration time?" She asked hesitantly, pulling on her servos absently.

He grinned at her and nodded, speeding out of his quarters, the spin of the door washing her in cool air. She pushed through to the other side and smiled at the mech, one of the first to ever just show her kindness. Not because she was a trained assassin with legendary skill in her very CNA and coding, or for any other twisted reason. He was just genuinely nice.

"Okay, so I was thinking about it and you're still wounded from whoever it was that's chasing you - I'm not nagging about that, even though the curiosity's going to drive me mad, see me not nagging? - so the first stop on our exploring of the ship is going to be the med-bay so I can see what I can do about that t-cog." Blurr explained rapidly, practically dragging her behind him as he sped along with his hand around her wrist.

"Blurr."

"Cause, seventeen-time-winner-of-the-Ibex-Cup and all, I at least understand t-cogs, cause they tend to get strained in the races. Watched a lot of mechs burn out in my wake, not that I'm complaining, cause you know, all the more trophies on my shelves..."

"Blurr."

"Oh! Did you get a chance to look at all my trophies? My favorite is the one from my fifth race, it's faceted cyberrylium with an obsidian base and it actually has a genuine Praxian crystal in it from the famous Crystal Gardens before they got air-striked!"

"Blurr!" She shouted finally, her wrist and feet starting to hurt from how fast the speedster was tugging her along.

The blue mech let go of her wrist as if burned, skidding to a halt at last and giving her a quizzical frown, "What's the matter? Am I boring you, yeah I'm probably boring, cause who wants to listen to a famous - extremely famous, I might add - guy talk about his glorious life of fame al-"

Nightracer held up a hand and doubled over, venting hard for a moment, clutching her side where her injuries and damaged t-cog were protesting to the strain. "Gotta... slow. Down."

"Oh! Oh yeah, duh, you're not a speedster like I am which must make for an awfully awful existance, living through life so slowly, but-" He frowned, cocking his helm at her and staring at her frame under her hand, "Oh. You can't go so fast because you're injured and already spent all night running so your systems are over-taxed and can't handle the stress, so now you're leaking all over again and it's all my fault!"

She pulled her hand away from her side and stared blankly at the life-En coating it. Her self-diagnostics said it was just newly formed protoform that had been stretched to rupturing by the over-exertion of the night. Nothing serious, just... Just... The femme blinked at the lost train of thought, swaying slightly on her pedes.

"It's okay..." She muttered, smiling lopsidedly, her mask twitching spasmodically half-way between up and down. "Just stretched protoform. And life-En. But it's okay."

"It's not okay, you're leaking out all over my ship under my watch and it's my fault, so I feel like utter slag, which makes it not okay at all!" Blurr exclaimed, looking rather annoyed at her complacency. "You shouldn't even be walking, I need to get you fixed up."

As she stared at the life-En on her hand, the image of Bludgeon on his knees staring at his fading his spark with blown out optics, life-En pouring from his optics and mouth flashed into her mind. Nightracer let out a choked gasp, cringing away and stumbling back right as the blue mech reached out to support her shaky frame.

She'd done so well to keep her thoughts at bay for the past half vorn, but her former commander's death was an image seared into her processors. This was the first time since she'd killed him and ran that she'd had time enough to allow things to sink in. The first time that she'd not been so pre-occupied by her survival and safety to think.

It was easier when she didn't have time to think.

"You shouldn't even care!" She shrieked at the concerned Autobot, "I'm a murderer! A monster!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... hey, look, you don't seem like a monster to me, just a scared, lost femme who's been forced to do horrible things by horrible bots. That makes them the monsters, not you. And besides, monster or no, you need medical help, and helping bots is what I do, because I'm an Autobot." Blurr said firmly, his tone leaving no room for further debate. "Honestly, I don't care if you are a monster, I am not, so you're going to get fixed whether you like it or not."

She looked down, pressing her armor down submissively, allowing him to lead her - at her pace - to the ship's medical bay. Once she was laid out on the surgical table neither said much as Blurr raced through the med-bay at a speed her optics could barely register, giving her various orders as he performed what basic repairs he knew.

At his dictating, she removed a portion of her stomach-plating for Blurr to run scans over her damaged t-cog. After several klicks, he simply welded the protoform back together and had her replace the armor.

"Okay, so like I said, I know a bit about t-cogs, but I thought you'd just overheated it or something, but it's taken direct weapon's fire, so it's actually ruptured, so it needs completely replaced and..." He gave her an apologetic grimace, "I have no idea how to do that. But on the up side, at least I've got all of the rest of your injuries in working order. So yay!"

"Yay." She repeated unenthusiastically, sitting up and gazing at her hands with an unreadable expression.

She watched the blue mech flit around through the med-bay putting things back where he'd found them and then arbitrarily rearranging shelves and cupboards. Soon he started rearranging all the berths and work stations as well.

People had died because of her. Both by her hand and not. She had been fighting this war for long enough that it shouldn't have bothered her like it did now. Back in the Kaon citadel, she'd been able to laugh it off with her other femme friends. Or at least pretend to, just like they did; just like everyone in this messed up murder-fest of a war did. But this time it was different. This time it had been up close.

Bludgeon had been right. It was far easier when she was terminating specks on the horizon. The distance made it all that easier to forget that those specks were bots. Bots with lives, and jobs, and friends, and family that loved them. That were praying for their safe return.

She was a monster.

It was what she was created to be. Created, programmed, honed, and trained for the sole purpose of terminating the targets set in her sights. She was a Decepticon sniper; that was what she had always been and always would be. Her predecessor had enjoyed it. It was her passion. A passion that was now locked into every fiber of her being.

Because she was just a fake. A copy of a legend.

After less than a breem, Nightracer was fairly certain that there wasn't a single thing left where it had been. Not even the berth she was seated on had been spared from his mad reorganizing spree. Finally the mech sat down on the opposite end of the berth she was on, fidgeting for half an astrosecond, leaping up and straightening a utensil and sitting back down again.

"Sorry."

"I don't want to." She whispered decisively, still staring at her acid-burned servos.

The mech gave her a puzzled look, cocking his winged helm to the side curiously. It was plain enough that he had not tracked her train of thought. "Don't want to what? Be in working order? That ma-"

"No-"

"Don't want to be a Decepticon? Cause I'm sure with a lot of work and permission and rules and paperwork and vorns and-"

"No-"

"Don't want to-" His clear azure optics locked onto hers and he stopped. "Actually, you're right, I'm just gonna stop talking and let you explain what you're talking about because I could sit here interrupting and guessing until we rust and-" He cut himself off again, glaring down in the direction of his mouth as though it were at fault for his talking, "Right, sorry, not talking."

The sniper smiled weakly at the quirky Autobot before finishing softly, "A monster. I don't want to be a monster. I am one; that is my function. But I don't want to be."

Blurr didn't say anything for a bit, leaving the two of them in a thoughtful silence as they sat on opposite ends of the surgeon's table in the empty ship's med-bay, staring at their laps lost in their minds.

Finally the blue mech gave her a pitying smile before changing the subject. "So if you want to now that you're not leaking everywhere, we can finish showing you around the base?"

She stood up and brushed off some metal dust from her frame, taking in a deep vent to push aside her unpleasant thoughts, "I could use the diversion."

He nodded and shot off down the hall. A couple klicks later he swung back into the doorway with a sheepish grin, "Whoops. Slowing down, sorry."

The teal and gray femme grinned back, still not quite feeling it as she walked along side the blue mech, her tone sarcastic, "No, don't worry about it. It must be so hard for such a fast mech like you to walk at the pace of a handicapped Con."

"Ugh, you wouldn't believe how hard it is. Not that I'm saying you're slow, or handicapped-!" He added defensively, "But being me is so hard, cause most people don't even bother listening to me most of the time, and when they do, they're horrible at it, and just trying to get them to keep up is nigh on impossible!"

Nightracer rolled her crimson optics. "Hey, at least you're the first bot to be you."

"Yeah, but what good is that if no one knows who me is? And I don't mean my reputation, cause everyone knows that, cause I'm awesomely famous and everything, but-" Blurr suddenly seemed to remember the reason for their exploring and pointed a thumb at the door they'd just passed, "That there was the medical stock cargo hold by the way, and this room here..." He swung the next door open and let her peek in briefly, "Is the quarantine room. Lots of shiny round things all over the wall. No clue what those are for though. I didn't wanna push the lever to find out, just in case it made the whole room blow up or something."

She cocked her helm at the odd structures in question for a moment before shrugging and continuing their tour. She whispered, too quietly for the mech to hear, "At least you know who the real you is."

Apparently all she really knew about who she was had come from a history book and her own self-doubting spark. But that was why she was running to start with, and things were a whole lot less complicated if she just kept running from those thoughts.

"-And then a hot pink, sparkly Magnus walked in with the ugliest scowl I've ever seen on his face... I swear he kept the twins locked up in the brig for a quartex!" Blurr snickered at the memory, sending her a snapshot of the pranked commander, glancing down at her as she laughed so hard her vents seized up.

Once she'd gotten ahold of herself enough to recognize where they were, just down the hall a few doors from Blurr's quarters, Nightracer filled in the last part of the mental map she'd been sketching in her mind with a satisfied nod. "So where will I be assigned to live out my 'enforced asylum'?"

She followed the blue mech up the hall past a few more doors before he stopped at the one next to his own quarters. Smiling down at her, the slightly taller mech gestured hesitantly to the door for her to go in first. He seemed half afraid of what she might find.

Frowning briefly in a suspicion that she couldn't maintain, the femme nervously pushed through the odd rotating door into the room. Every steely blue surface was covered in a thin layer of dust. Against the far wall was an average-sized berth with a simple, unadorned headboard; on either side of the berth were two floor-to-ceiling shelves layered in dust and a few empty high-grade bottles.

A tiny vid-screen was mounted on one wall, cracked and hanging askew. In the opposite corner, right by the door, was a small corner desk with a dusty terminal set up, a small disposal unit, and a couple of rusty datapads were strewn across it haphazardly.

Set off to the side was a modest little enclosure with a small shelf and an Energon dispenser, along with a counter on which to mix the Energon. A cupboard contained a few cleaning tools and a mainenance drone. Sitting on the counter was a half-empty cube of long-since stale Energon with a drowned glitch-mouse in the bottom of it.

As she explored the quarters that were to be hers, her expression was almost non-existent, whereas Blurr, who had followed her in, was obviously appalled. "I'm sorry, this is miserable, why don't we try another one? Mine weren't half so bad when I first claimed them. I hadn't been in all of the quarters really, I just sorta peeked in the door and then never looked back, but there's no way I'm going to make you live in here, this is disgusting. I had thought that what with the ship being deserted and you being chased by apparently evil, terrifying bots, that it'd be better for your quarters to be nearby, but this is unac-"

She looked up at the ranting mech, an awed expression on her grinning face, her optics alight with excitement. "I can have this whole room? Just for me?"

"Yeah, I guess, I mean sure, but this is- I can get you something bet-"

Her large optics widened in disbelief as she cut him off hopefully, "All of it?"

Blurr, still looking horribly confused, nodded swiftly, her pleasure at the decrepit room rendering the famous racer speechless. His confusion only increased when she let out an involuntary squeal of delight as she spun around, running around the room, already starting the clean up process.

This was just amazing. This whole room: hers. Just for her. No more dingy alleys, hidden corners, waste disposals. No more pyschopathic, obsessed, En-thirsty femme for a room-mate like she'd had back at home in Kaon. No more waking up to a destroyed berth-room with pieces of life-En covered shrapnel from the last battle one particular Autobot femme had participated in.

A room all to herself, a domain set aside for her alone.

Nightracer grinned even wider than before as she raced through the room multiple times, not really cleaning anything, just staring at it all in glee.

"I don't mind seeing you so happy, but-" Blurr chuckled in bemusement, "This place is a total dump... Why- how are you so happy about it? I mean there's dead glitch-mice and rust everywhere, not to mention more dust than I thought even possible on a metal planet."

"A dump?" The femme exclaimed incredulously, "You call this a dump? Mech, I've been living in waste disposals in the slums of Kaon, Kolkular, and now here in Uraya. Before that, I shared quarters with Flamewar."

At his blank, unenlightened expression, Nightracer explained, "Flamewar. Absolutely, medically insane, obsessed with the Autobot Arcee - creepy levels of obsessed. Emotionally volatile, manic, bi-polar, schizophrenic... Pretty much, you name a mental disorder; she's got it. She brings body parts from her kills home and hangs them out to dry in the closet, especially if she claims they 'smell' like Arcee."

"Creepy."

"Yep!" She confirmed cheerily, already making grand plans for this little room that the Autobot was telling her was hers. She'd have it clean in no time, maybe rearrange the furniture a bit more to her liking...

It would be perfect. And it would be all hers.

Nightracer grinned widely at the blue mech, flopping herself down on her berth, sending a puff of dust into the air all around her, bringing yet another hilariously distraught, but somehow smiling grimace to the other mech's face.

Maybe this 'enforced asylum' of Blurr's wouldn't be so bad after all.