The Diego Diaries: Springer and Drift's Turn (dd7 249)

I am going to weave in vignettes about a number of individuals while the story flows onward because I've been thinking about their backstories and where they came from for some time now. Its also a peek into their situations, their families and lives both then and now. :D Its going to take a time. I have a list to revisit. :D

=0=A weekend alone on the highlands of the Tharsis Plain shortly ago ...

They climbed to the top of the mesa, then took the time to look around. They were going to camp somewhere and this might be the spot. The view in all directions was unfettered by the inclusion of anyone else. The sun was warm on their receptors, magnified by their body tech even though it was very cold outside.

Drift glanced at Springer admiring his profile yet again. It was a good face with strong features and beautiful optics. His optics told his story. All that he ever needed to know about Springer he could read there. It wasn't always so …

"HEY, DEADLOCK!"

He leaned against a broken building to find shelter to reload. He and the Wrecker chieftain had had a running gun battle over a space of several miles of destruction. Springer had landed with his crew and was trying to drive him and what was left of his Decepticon squad either off world or into a grave. So far, Springer was winning. He grinned slightly. /...frag you, Springer.../ "WHAT!?"

[Pause]

"GIVE IT UP!" Springer had cried.

"Okay," Deadlock said to himself. He grinned, then leaned up to fire at Springer's position.

Springer ducked as shots hit his broken wall and flew overhead. /… frag .../ "DON'T BE A TOTAL LOSER, DEADLOCK! IT'S EITHER SURRENDER TO ME OR FACE A BULLET FROM MEGATRON! YOU AND TURMOIL ARE BOTH DOOMED!"

/ … not yet, slagger .../ He fired a volley, then ran low to a wash where he then transformed and lay on the speed. By the time Springer could follow he was gone. He reached his ship, took off leaving five of his patrol behind and was lost to everyone's radar until he walked into a ship with Kup as Drift, the 'Circle fragger who's probably trying a new scam so let's shoot him now, Kup, and save a body bag later,' Springer announced at the top of his vocal capacitor.

That guy.

He and Springer couldn't *ABIDE* each other.

Then.

Now?

Springer turned to him admiring his striking features, features that were metrics beyond what he once was as a certified Decepticon fragger. He was actually one of the most beautiful mechs Springer had ever seen before. His finials were sharp and erotic, his face with its familiar humor and intelligence was beautiful and his strong body was something he craved.

Both of them were younger mechs, not quite at that age where they would truly be perceived by others as 'fully and completely adult' in the way humans were at some point. They were still filled with the flush of their youth and it radiated out in their bodies and good humor. As it was, they were most at home with just each other though their friendships and family were endless and tight.

Springer turned to him and pulled him into his arms. Tightening his embrace, he vented a soft sigh. This was good, being here with this one. He remembered the moment they saw each other again …

"YOU!"

Both of them stepped forward, setting themselves for the brutality of a fight in the med bay in The Fortress. They didn't. Springer remembered Ratchet's intervention, then he left. Kup was there and said something but he didn't remember it, that was how surprised and angry he was. The two of them had only worked together on a few missions a short time before the long intervening break. It was surprising to see him in The City. Later ...

Springer had been walking along a corridor brooding on Drift and two other things when they nearly ran head on into each other. He stepped back ready to fight even as Drift did himself. They stared at each other with loathing, then launched on the other. He gripped Drift as the two tussled trying to get the upper hand in a titanic battle of wills. Two forces of nature pressed their incredible brute strength one against the other. Neither budged, then they broke, jumping back to take in the danger of the situation to full advantage.

It was all optical daggers and furious emotion for a blazing minute, then it seemed to diminish into something else on both sides. For a moment they stared at each other, then Springer glanced around. He gripped Drift's arm and dragged him bodily into a utility room nearby. Slamming the door, they rounded on each other. It was silent, deadly silent as they stared in fury.

"You're a slagger of the worst kind," Springer growled.

"Well, it takes one to know one," Drift said as he relaxed, then leaned against a bank of dials and switches. He felt a smirk coming. He didn't care what Springer thought about it.

Much.

Springer noted the smirk on the handsome face. He wanted to slap it off.

Maybe.

"What now, slagger? Are you going to frag me up?" Drift asked as he crossed his chassis with his big strong arms. He was ready to fight but this didn't feel like one. This felt like something else. What it was, he didn't know. He knew Springer felt it, too.

"How about I beat your aft?" Springer said as he moved on Drift. He caught the big mech off guard, turned him around and slammed him into the wall. He pressed himself against Drift. He felt the strength of Drift's body and the scent of his frame filled his processor. It was a good scent he thought abstractly. Oddly enough, it was getting harder to think about anything the longer he held Drift in place.

Fortunately for Springer, he didn't have to do that long. In the space of seconds he was across the narrow room and the big mech had pinned him against the wall. Drift's face was that close to his own as the two stared at each other. It was deeply and darkly silent, then it wasn't. They were all over each other in seconds.

Shortly later …

They sat side-by-side on the floor waiting for the heat to bleed off their chassis. It was muggy and close in the room but the static charged energy was gone. Something else had replaced it. They were sitting there trying to figure it out.

"What the frag was that, Deadlock?" Springer finally asked.

"Drift. It's Drift."

Springer grinned. "I can see why you changed it."

Drift grinned at him. "Perceptive slagger, you are."

"That's me, All Knowing Springer," he had said, then they laughed long and loudly with each other for the first and not the last time.

From that moment onward, they were inseparable. Completely and utterly in sync with each other.

Now ...

"This feels good," Drift said.

Springer nodded. "I suppose we need to set up camp. You have to cook."

"Me? Why me?" Drift asked with a grin.

"Because."

Drift snickered. "Oh. Well, that makes all the difference."

Springer grinned, then stepped back to glance around. "How about here, Scout?"

"Sounds good to me," Drift said as they pitched their tent, set up their little campfire and got ready to get ripped, frag all night and wake up with a hangover.

Moments later …

Springer sat on one of the rocks they gathered for chairs and to make a campfire pit. Drift was managing a number of packets that were heating up. Darkness had come and their light was the only one around. It flickered off Drift's features giving him a slightly menacing and satanic look. "You're doing good there, Sport."

"Thanks, Dad," Drift said as he glanced up at the very deepest and most desired center of his universe. That he knew it was mutual was the greatest single thing he had ever experienced in his life. It would be stunning and not to know that Springer felt that deeply and strongly, too.

Springer grinned. "Dad? That's sort of twisted even for us."

"Well, I heard in some universes its true," Drift said.

Springer laughed as Drift dished up the dinner. They sat across from each other companionably and ate the surprisingly good food. A bottle went back and forth between them as they did. It reminded Springer of other times and other nights camping rough with another individual that he loved in another and different way …

Far away they could see lights of the enemy encampment. They were at impasse here and he had retreated to a promontory to keep track of them. Springer had gone with him to keep him company, recognizing the markers of his mood and brooding sense of responsibility. They stood together staring into the dusky distance as lights slowly came on from the handful of enemy that were still there.

"Looks like they're hunkering down tonight," Springer had said.

Prime had nodded. "I think so."

"Have you eaten?" Springer had asked.

Prime shook his helm. "Not recently."

Springer nodded. "I'll fix something. It won't be good but it'll do."

Optimus Prime glanced at him. "That would be fine. Thank you, Springer."

"No problem," Springer said. He walked to a shuttle parked nearby, one he and Prime had commandeered to come here. Off in the distance, the light of their own camp could be seen. Prime had volunteered to take the first shift, ever the great leader of his mechs and Springer had come along because Prime had come here to brood.

He watched Prime and saw the signs. Hurrying to fix food, he brought it to Prime. They ate it silently together, then withdrew to sit down by the small fire to watch the plain beyond. It was quiet, then Springer noted the signals. They were subtle. They wouldn't be noted by anyone else but they were by him.

Prime needed him.

The conversation was quiet and comfortable, then they retired to the shuttle for a while. When he came out later, Prime would be calm and settled. His spark would have balance. Springer watched him from the door and marveled at the mech. Prime was pantheonic in his majesty but he was also the most humble mech about himself he'd ever met. Prime always put himself last.

Springer was the only indulgence that Springer had ever seen him partake. It would be their secret and no one would ever know.

Not even Drift.

They passed the bottle, sharing it and easy conversation.

Drift considered him. "You've been brooding on your family."

Springer nodded. "I sort of thought about them and they've stayed in my processor."

"They said they were coming at the last Festival," Drift said. "They will."

"Have you ever wondered about your own?" Springer asked for the first time.

Drift considered that. "I try not to. I don't know where they are or if they're alive. It helps not to go there."

Springer nodded. "I know." It was quiet a moment. "What do you think when you go to Kaon? Is your area still there?"

"My area is part of the Wilderness," Drift said. "Last time I saw it my area was half a foot tall."

Springer stared at Drift wondering what it meant to the child Drift to have such a life. It was a point of anguish for him to have had so much opportunity and protection, then think about Drift as an infant wandering his neighborhood hungry and wary. "You never talk about your life there. I would be a good audience."

Drift stared at Springer. "I know. It was hard. Most of us could tell that tale. My folks were good. They tried but there was never enough. I was hungry and angry. I wandered and learned how to steal and fight. There were gangs to join or fight. Police were the common enemy and no matter who you harmed no one would turn you in. They were either too scared or they hated the cops more. My folks were good. They tried but you know how it was," Drift said.

It was silent a moment, then Springer set down the bottle. "Not well enough."

"Maybe, but count your blessings," Drift said as he reached for the bottle. "You don't have to suffer yourself to care about it. That's your great glory."

"Maybe," Springer said. He grinned slightly. "I love how Ada nails Atar when he talks about his own childhood."

Drift grinned. "That's good. Even Optimus does it. Prowl and the others wither."

"They do," Springer said. He stared at Drift. "Have you seen them lately?"

"I saw them in the playground. They're growing a little," Drift said as the memory of three infants came to mind. "They look good."

Springer nodded, then took the bottle after Drift took a drink. He paused it by his face. "Oh," Springer said as his expression brightened. He gazed at Drift over the flicking light of the fire. "Did I tell you that Buzzie is sparked again?"

Drift grinned at him. "Nope," he said.

All was well in their world.

=0=TBC 4-6-2020 4-25-2020

Next: Cliffie and Buzzie's Turn