Hello, hello
Nice to meet you, voice inside my head
Hello, hello
I believe you, how can I forget
Is this a place that I call home
To find what I've become
Walk along the path unknown
We live, we love, we lie
Deep in the dark I don't need the light
There's a ghost inside me
It all belongs to the other side
We live, we love, we lie
-Alan Walker: The spectre -
Blaster looked out at the crowd. It was much smaller than it used to be, back before everything had gone to Pit. The Autobots and very few Neutrals in front of him danced to forget - to lose themselves, to be untethered for a while, to feel something other than war and fear and terror.
He understood the sentiment. Tonight, the rhythm was in him.
He vented along with the beat, moved with the pitch, tweaked and cajoled the sound system in front of him, until the music was all he could feel. The yawning loss inside of him was covered up with sound. The vibrations of the music tingled along his plating, and he lost himself in it.
For tonight, nothing else existed.
For tonight, the run-down derelict club right in the more heavily bombed parts of Iacon was the place to be.
"Are you ready?" he bellowed, watching as dozens if not tens of dozens lifted their arms into the air. The jury-rigged strobe lights danced across plating in every color, illuminating dents and weld marks more often than not, but tonight that didn't matter.
Tonight, they danced.
"Then let me hear you ROAR!" Blaster hollered, raising his arms. "Come on, Iacon! LET! ME! HEAR! YOU!"
The cacophony rose, and the sound had an almost physical quality, like it could pick him up and carry him away. He could feel the heavy bass beat in the floor under his pedes, and was briefly glad there was nothing under the club but solid ground.
Well, as solid as anything was these days.
No thinking about that. He set the discant melody to play again, losing himself in it.
All good things must come to an end, though. Mecha who had the early shifts began leaving. Then the ones too overcharged to stand. Then the cheap high-grade ran out, and as the mech behind the bar nodded at him, Blaster reluctantly dimmed the strobe lights.
"Iacon!" he whispered, the microphone in front of him amplifying his voice a thousandfold.
"Iacon, it's been a blast, just like it was in the past, my mechs, but everything passes
– and like the working masses that we are, we can't go far anymore, not like before,
so let it end now, my friend, how good it's been
for just tonight, to do this right, forget the fight,
forget the war, who's keeping score, not me,
it's how it's supposed to be,
it's how it's supposed to go, I know,
you know, we know how this is,
we know the music's bliss, so take that with ya, make it fit ya,
let it be a shield against the dark, the lack of spark,
and I will see you again, my friend, this ain't the end.
This ain't the end."
He blinked the lights once, then twice more. "Iacon, you're amazing. Blaster out."
He put the first track he'd played on repeat, and watched as what was left of the crowd began to filter out.
Suddenly he felt incredibly empty. His limbs were heavy, weighed down almost, and he just wanted to leave.
Couldn't leave yet though. He had to pack down his equipment.
He pinged the mech behind the bar. Maybe there was some form of fuel still to be had. ::Hey, Twister. Any chance there's any midgrade left?::
The two-wheeler looked up at him apologetically. ::Sorry, Blaster. I had saved you some, but it's gone now.::
Blaster waved a hand. ::Don't worry about it. I'm not critically low or anything. Hey, thanks for helping out. You can leave when you've packed up, 'kay?::
Twister frowned. ::I'm supposed to escort you back, you know.::
Blaster grinned. It took some work. ::That's okay. I have a friend coming to meet me.::
Twister gave him a knowing grin. ::Gotcha. I'll head out as soon as the last of these guys are gone, then.::
It didn't take long. The last mech lying on the floor was dragged out by two of his friends, and Twister gave Blaster a quick nod before he too was gone.
The solitude was deafening. Blaster turned the music down. Down, but not off – he couldn't take it being off right now. Then he began the boring task of dismantling the strobe lights and packing them in their crates, stowing the crates on the freight sled for easy transport.
He was down to the last crate of lights when the music changed.
It wasn't much. The discant moved to a brief counterpoint, the rhythm skipped a beat that wasn't there. It was enough to alert Blaster.
He thought he'd been lying to Twister about having a friend coming. In the past, it wouldn't have been a lie; the same mech always waited for him after a show. But that didn't happen anymore. The war had gotten in the way.
Except, it seemed, for tonight. Tonight apparently was just as much a flashback to better times as it had seemed.
Blaster stowed the crate, and walked towards the back of the room. There was a door there, leading to what had once been a generous backstage area with lounges and bars and now was just a generous pile of shattered glass and metal.
He was standing in the shadows, like he always had been. His frame just slightly taller and more solid than before, his posture tenser than usual, but still him.
Blaster knew he should have been careful. Many would have told him this could be a trap.
He didn't believe it was, not even for a moment. He had nothing to fear from this mech.
"Hey," he said softly. "Did you listen to the show?"
"Affirmative," the soft monotone said. "Blaster: magnificent."
"None of that," Blaster pleaded, raising a hand to land on the other's mask. "Not tonight. Please."
The mask slid aside under his hand.
"Thank you," Blaster breathed. He suddenly felt whole again, the yawning pit in his spark full of something he'd thought lost forever.
"Here," Soundwave said, his voice overlaid with harmonics that made Blaster shiver. "You're low on energon."
Another trap, Jazz would have said. But Blaster simply lifted the cube to his mouth and drank deeply.
"Do you have some time?" Soundwave asked, that melodious voice almost timid. "Can you stay for a while?"
"For you, always," Blaster replied. "I have to pack down my sound equipment, then I'm all yours."
"Let me help," Soundwave said, moving to go inside, but Blaster stopped him with a finger to his lips.
"No. You're already taking a great risk, being here. I don't want anyone to come back in and see you." He leaned in, resting his forehead against Soundwave's. "Give me a breem or so, then I'll come back. There's a lounge corner back there that's not too badly damaged."
Soundwave nodded, moving back into the shadows, and Blaster walked back inside the dilapidated club.
He'd never packed down his set so fast.
When the sled was packed to capacity, every piece of equipment stored and secured, he slid it in behind an old half-wall that used to conceal a semi-private booth, and left it there to pick up later. It would be safe enough.
Soundwave took his hand when he stepped out into the gloom of the back entrance again, tugging him away from the building and over to a part of the ruins that looked slightly more stable than the rest. They ducked under a metal beam and slid past a fallen wall to the hollow space beneath.
The lounge seats were almost completely intact. Soundwave had clearly been out there just now, there were tracks in the dust from where he'd slid the two sofas together to create a berth of sorts.
"Where are the cassettes?" Blaster ran a finger down Soundwave's transparent docking port.
"Ravage and Laserbeak are watching," Soundwave replied. "The others are back with the Decepticons, supporting the subterfuge."
"Mine are back on base as well, save one." Blaster sent the command to open his dock and wake the cassette within. "He will enjoy seeing you."
The large orange cat landed easily on the floor and turned towards Soundwave, pushing his head into the other's hand.
::Soundwave. Creator.::
"Hello, Steeljaw," Soundwave replied, his voice slightly staticky. "I am glad to see you looking so well." He dropped to one knee and gathered up the cat-former, pressing his face against the warm metal of Steeljaw's back. "I have missed you, dearest."
::We've missed you, too, Creator.:: Steeljaw's rough glossa licked Soundwave's arm. ::Are the others alright?::
"They're fine, sweetspark. They miss you all."
"Ravage is here," Blaster said softly, reaching out to stroke hos cassette's back. "She's waiting for you."
Steeljaw grinned. ::Awesome. Then I'll go run with my big sister tonight.:: He nipped lovingly at Soundwave's fingers, then he was gone.
"They miss you a lot," Blaster murmured as he stood. "They know not to ask, but I can feel it."
"You're missed as well," Soundwave replied. He took Blaster's hand, pulling him close. "All of you. Every moment. Will you give my love to them?"
"Of course. How long can you stay?" Blaster leaned in against that warm chest, felt the vibrations of Soundwave's strong spark against his plating.
"I need to leave before first shift," Soundwave replied. "I'm afraid it doesn't give us much time, my love."
"It's enough." Blaster kissed Soundwave's fingertips, one by one. "I want your spike. And I want your spark."
Soundwave nodded. "Like before."
"Like before." Blaster looked up as the visor clicked aside, those vibrant ruby optics glowing down at him. "I need that tonight. Please." He pulled Soundwave back towards the makeshift berth. "I need you."
"I'm yours." Soundwave came willingly, kneeling between Blaster's legs, kissing the plating covering his spark reverently. "Always."
Their coupling was unhurried, familiar, intense, bittersweet, painful in its implications. Blaster wasn't surprised to see tears flowing from Soundwave's optics as he climaxed. He knew his own cheeks were wet.
Soundwave let his cassette dock shift aside, revealing the plating over his spark. Blaster echoed the motion, letting himself spiral open until the very core of him was revealed and lighting up Soundwave's reverent face.
"You're still so beautiful," Soundwave murmured. "Still so perfect."
"We didn't change." Blaster's fingers traced over Soundwave's cheek. "We didn't. The causes did."
"They did. But we won't talk about that tonight." Soundwave kissed the questing fingertips before lowering himself over Blaster's prone frame. "Tonight is for us."
"I love you," Blaster gasped, the first few tendrils of their essences meeting and mixing. The motions and sensations were familiar.
Soundwave felt like coming home.
Blaster surrendered to it, letting himself drown in the beauty and solid comfort that was his mate, let himself revel in everything that Soundwave was. He could feel Soundwave doing the same, feel the spike still inside him twitch in renewed arousal, feel the heavy weight of Soundwave's frame on his own.
The physical pleasure was secondary to the sheer joy he felt at having Soundwave back with him again, however briefly.
There was happiness and love, each of them reaching for the part of the other that complemented themselves, giving themselves up to each other. There was sadness too, an acknowledgement of their shattered hope that the two factions could be worked closer to each other instead of further apart, of the need to stay where they'd established themselves instead of with the other.
Because Blaster could never be a Decepticon. And Soundwave could never be an Autobot.
The merge ended, and the world was instantly colder.
"I love you, Soundwave," Blaster repeated, pulling Soundwave close as if he could merge their physical bodies that way. "That won't ever change."
"And I love you too, as you know," Soundwave whispered. "Life without you is agony."
They lay in silence for a while. Neither of them wanted to dwell too much on such an uncomfortable truth.
"You should leave," Blaster said finally. "First shift will be starting soon."
Soundwave nodded, leaning down until their lips met again. As he pulled out and stood, Blaster had to suppress a shiver.
A brief cleaning, a quick notice sent to the quadrupedal cassettes, and they were back in the shadows of the main building. Blaster stepped into Soundwave's open arms again.
"Thank you for coming, love." He took the chance to kiss Soundwave once more, and then watched the mask and visor slide back into place. "It meant a lot."
"Soundwave: adores you," his mate replied, the monotone back now that the mask was engaged. "Will see you soon."
"Count on it." Blaster stepped back into the shadows. "Safe journey, love."
Soundwave nodded. Then he turned, took a couple of steps into the ruined building behind the club, and was gone.
Blaster sighed and walked back inside.
It was time to try and ignore that bond again and head back to the Autobots.
It was a lonely trek, pulling the sled back to base by himself. Steeljaw was out there in the dark, keeping watch. He already missed Ravage terribly, and needed to work himself into exhaustion tonight.
Blaster knew exactly how he felt.
He summoned the cassette back to dock just outside the base. "Good job, Steelie," he said softly. Steeljaw's optics were dim – the cat was grieving, and there wasn't much Blaster could do. It killed him when his creations suffered like this.
They were too close to others to use words to comfort, but Blaster knew that the soft scratches behind Steeljaw's ruff would convey his words for him. The cat relaxed a bit under his hands. Docking with his carrier would do the rest, and Blaster sent the command to open his deck.
The guard recognized him on sight, waving him through and running the customary explosives scan on his equipment.
"Long night?" he asked, examining the readouts on the scanner.
"Mech, you have no idea," Blaster replied with a sigh. He was looking forward to crashing into his berth. Steeljaw was already recharging soundly in his chest. "What about here? Everything quiet?"
"Yup." The mech turned the scanner off. "Looks like the 'Cons have taken the night off. Lucky for your gig, huh?"
Blaster nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that is lucky." Inside, he sent a loving pulse along the bond. A moment later, the pulse was returned.
Luck indeed. Blaster wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out that Soundwave had convinced Megatron to order some form of practice drill or something just so that Blaster could have his gig uninterrupted by war.
It would have been a very Soundwave thing to do, stopping the war so Blaster could enjoy himself.
He was brought back to reality by the guard talking again. "Anyway, you're all clear." He smiled. "Pleasant recharge. Looks like you need it."
Blaster didn't care to argue. Mech was probably right.
He shuffled towards his own quarters, the sled a dead weight behind him. It wasn't that heavy, but at this point it felt like it was pulling his arms out of their sockets.
Then the weight on his arm abruptly disappeared.
"Looks like ya can use th' help, mech," a familiar voice said. Blaster turned to see Jazz heft the tow ropes over his own shoulders and grin at him.
"Thanks, buddy." Blaster ex-vented in relief and stretched his arms over his head, enjoying the way the movement eased his sore shoulder muscles. "I really appreciate it."
"No problem." Jazz fell into step next to him, still with that easy smile on his face. He was a good head shorter than Blaster, but the saboteur was deceptively strong. "So how was th' gig? Did ya get t' play the demons out?"
"It was awesome, and yeah, I did." Blaster grinned. "It was almost like old times, actually."
Jazz laughed. "Ya mean ya had 'em throwin' themselves at ya offerin' t' carry your sparklings?"
"Hah! No." Blaster snorted a laugh. "Not that, thankfully. But the vibe, Jazz. And the mood. It was just right. Shame you missed it."
It wasn't, really. Blaster loved having his best friend in the crowd, but Jazz was too observant. Soundwave would never have approached him tonight if Jazz had been there.
"I'm glad it was good. Wish I coulda been there, but I was needed here."
"There'll be other gigs." At least he hoped so. And what had kept Jazz home was more important anyway.
Not that he'd ever expected to see the day his best friend became such a family mech.
Blaster smiled at his friend. "So how are Prowl and the bitlet?"
"Blue's still terrified." Jazz sighed. "At least he accepts me now, so Prowler can get some recharge in. He's been so exhausted, his doorwings've been plastered to his back." He shot Blaster a sly glance. "Speakin' of doorwings, Smokey asked after ya." Jazz's keen blue stare met Blaster's own optics. "Still not interested? Those doorwings make everythin' more interesting."
"Nah, mech." Blaster smiled easily and sent another pulse down the bond. "Doorwings are your thing, not mine."
"One o' these days, I'll get ya t' tell me what your type is," Jazz joked.
Blaster laughed. "We'll see." It wasn't very likely that he'd ever tell Jazz that his type was tall, dark, visored and masked, though. At least not while they were at war.
Jazz walked with him back to his quarters, towing the sled all the way, and then helped him stow the equipment away in the tiny storage room inside Blaster's quarters. The space had once been a private was rack, but Blaster had sacrificed it for more storage space. He didn't mind using the communal wash racks.
Jazz stood aside as Blaster closed and locked the wash rack door. This was another of his own alterations, making sure that no one but himself and the cassettes could get to the equipment inside. Some mecha on the base had decidedly sticky fingers.
Jazz pulled a pair of energon cubes from subspace. "Here. You're probably running on empty."
Not quite, thanks to the fuel he'd gotten from Soundwave. But Jazz really didn't need to know that. "Thanks, mech." He took one cube, downing it quickly.
"Sure thing." Jazz set the other cube on the table. "Cassettes comin' back soon?"
"They're off shift now," Blaster replied. "They should be here any moment."
Jazz nodded. "I'll leave ya to it then, m' mech. Pleasant recharge."
"Thanks, buddy. I appreciate the help."
No sooner had the door shut behind Jazz than Blaster dropped down on the berth, face down and buried in the pillow. His entire being was focused inward, to the warmth and love in his spark that was Soundwave. Sending gentle pulses across the bond and having them returned.
That's how Rewind, Eject and Ramhorn found him when they came back. He could feel them clambering across the berth, and turned around to gather them into his arms.
"Blaster?" Eject asked timidly. "Are you okay?"
"Did you meet Soundwave?" Rewind burrowed in under his arm.
"You felt that, huh?" Blaster chuckled. "Guess I wasn't shielding as hard as I should. Yeah, I met him. Your creator's fine, and so are the kids. Steelie ran with Ravage, he can probably tell you more of what they're getting up to."
"But Creator was okay? Megatron is being nice to him?"
Blaster nodded and stroked Eject's back plating. "He's just fine, bit. You know him. He's too skilled for Megatron to be anything but nice to him. I'm sure he's enjoying the respect he deserves." He kissed the two small faces and cradled his twins close. Ramhorn was lying across his legs, optics dimmed. His eldest cassette wasn't much for affection, but he enjoyed the closeness. "Soundwave misses you. He wanted me to tell you he loves you all very much. So do the bits."
"I miss them too," Eject said softly. "Do you think… when the war ends…?
"I hope so," Blaster sighs. "I hope we can all be together then."
He didn't add the caveats running through his mind. If we're all still alive. If he still loves me by then. If the war ever does end. His sparklings didn't need to worry about those things.
There was another pulse across the bond, and Blaster surrendered to it. For now, he would let himself hope that everything would turn out all right.