Hello! So here's Chapter 2 of Better Left Unsaid.
I STRONGLY SUGGEST READING DEATHSTRIKE'S BIO ON MY PROFILE PAGE BEFORE READING THIS!
Warnings: Characters may seem OC.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Deathstrike, Blackstand, and my ideas.
Anyways...enjoy!
"Can't you make the landing any smoother?"
"Breakdown, I swear if you bother me one more time," the mech at the wheel growled. "This would be going a lot better if I was not the only one driving."
"You told me not to touch the controls!"
"I am revoking that order for now. Quit complaining and get over here."
"Fine, no reason to bite my head off."
"Keep talking and it will be more than a suggestion."
As Breakdown seated himself, the ship rocked again. The driver adjusted the internal coolers, turning to stare at the other mech.
"What?" Breakdown glanced at him after a few moments of tense silence.
The mech said nothing, his gaze not straying.
"Deathstrike, why are you staring at me?"
Silence was his answer.
"We have to steer this ship correctly—unless you want to be scrap metal—so tell me why you're staring at me."
Deathstrike stirred, turning back to the controls. His digits executed an unidentifiable rhythm on the dashboard. Breakdown could not notice the mech's claws, weapons that had done a number of things that couldn't have ended in a mech's well-being.
"And now you are staring." His deep voice startled him.
"What?"
"I was staring, then you were staring at him. Care to explain why?"
"I wasn't—"
"—yes, you were." Despite the danger occurring outside, Deathstrike was now, once again, staring, which was rather unsettling with his emotionless composure.
"I don't want to—"
"—talk about this? I did not wish to speak about my reason and now you do not wish to."
"Can we focus on not being burned alive?!"
Breakdown expected turn to become irritated, but he was answered by a low laugh. The mech had turned away and focused on the control of their landing.
He vented.
It was going to be a long trip.
"Lord Starscream, we have arrived at the crash site," Blackstand, one of the higher-ranked Air Force Vehicons, informed.
"Soundwave is the one to report!" the Decepticon spat.
The said Decepticon remained silent as he searched the area, helm slightly tilted.
"Have you located the ship yet?"
"No, my liege. We will continue searching."
"Do not waste valuable Energon. If you find nothing but corpses, burn them."
"Very well."
Breakdown woke with a splitting processor ache. As his optics readjusted, he checked his external and internal status. Nothing was broken, though his body would be sore for a while. A few minor cables in the back of his neck were sprained, but nothing else was damaged.
"Deathstrike." His voice came out in a hoarse tone. No one replied.
"Deathstrike." He repeated the name with more strength, forcing himself up with a groan as his joints realigned. He was surprised when he saw no one in the driver's seat.
"There is no point in staring at an inanimate object like that." A deep voice came from somewhere in the ship. "If I am not there, I am not there. No sense in occupying your mind with such a useless task." Breakdown looked up and stared.
Deathstrike was hanging from the ceiling, legs wrapped around a beam that fell from the ceiling during the crash. His servos were elbow deep in a massive crack in the foundation, and Breakdown could see the injuries he had acquired. Gashes outlined his frame, Energon leaking from them and dripping to the floor. One major cut ran along his servo and wrapped around to the small of his backstrut; Breakdown noticed this whenever he pulled and his servo from the tangle of wires he was fixing. Sparks shot from them, landing in his wounds and visibly heating the mech's blood. Breakdown was surprised that he did not flinch, and that he could balance so, even with his wings.
"What are you doing up there?"
"Repairs, what does it look like?"
"How can you work with those injuries? You need a medic!"
"What injuries?"
Breakdown glared, and at the mech's silence, Deathstrike looked down, taking in the other's expression with a look of boredom. After a moment, realization flashed in his optics.
"You mean these?" Deathstrike pointed to the gashes on his frame. "I had not noticed."
"You don't notice your own injuries but you rush to fix your ship's?"
"You know the answer to that."
"Where did we crash?"
"I do not care where we landed." The mech twisted in a bizarre, snakelike way, optics flashing as he stared at something through the window. "What I do care about are the glitch-heads scratching my ship." He twisted again and was now on his pedes, heading towards the window to glare out of it.
"What do you—?" Breakdown cut off as he looked outside.
A group of Vehicons milled around the ship, blasters charged as they looked around. The head of the group was a tall black and purple 'Con with huge, thin, and blade-like arms.
"Is that who I think it is?" Breakdown demanded.
"Yes." Deathstrike was behind him; he had moved in that strange, silent way. A trail of Energon shadowed the black mech.
"What is he doing on Earth?"
"He followed Megatron."
"He nearly killed him. Why would Megatron want to be stuck with him for centuries?"
"Not my problem." Deathstrike growled suddenly, leaning against the door as his vents hitched.
"What is it?"
"Nothing." The mech shoved him away, but his hand stayed on Breakdown's servo, as if he were steadying himself.
"Deathstrike, they can help us. You need a medic."
"No, I do not. I am a trained medic, and I will see to myself after I do so to my ship."
"No, you won't. I'll make you fix yourself."
"Good luck with that."
"You are such a glitch-head," Breakdown muttered. When the mech didn't reply, he asked, "Remind me why we're sitting here?"
"We're not 'sitting here'."
"Yes, we are."
"No, we're—see?" Deathstrike nodded at the window.
Breakdown turned to see the tall Decepticon looking straight at him. What surprised him was that he had no face, just a black screen with no features. A chill traveled its way down his spine as he made a mental note to challenge the mech before him.
"Quit gawking." Deathstrike pushed past him and entered a code into the keypad. The door hissed open, meaning as its hinges bent at the strain.
The black and purple mech continued to watch them as they stepped out into the clearing. The troopers surrounding him turned; at the sight of them they raised their blaster, preparing to fire.
"Easy there," Deathstrike reassured them, his wings high and immobile.
"We're on your side," Breakdown added, raising his servos.
The mech tilted his helm slightly, but it was unclear what emotions were going through his processor.
"Who would you be?" Deathstrike addressed the mech with an air he normally reserved for his victims. Breakdown silently hoped he wasn't planning it.
The mech remained silent as a whirring filled the area. A bird-like Mini-Con flew down, rearranging its body as it connected to the silent mech. He turned away, a Ground Bridge appearing in front of him.
"Did he just…?" Breakdown narrowed his optics.
Deathstrike growled, warning his companion not to continue. As the Vehicons filed through the portal, the silent mech faced them, seeming to stare. After a moment of silence, the Decepticon pointed to the Bridge.
"You want to come with you?" Breakdown said.
The mech nodded once, slowly and surely.
"Megatron won't be pleased," Breakdown continued. "Are you sure?"
The mech turned away and entered the portal.
"Strange…," Breakdown said, facing his companion.
Deathstrike snarled, narrowing his gaze as his optics blazed. Breakdown recognized the feral hunger in his stare.
"Deathstrike, don't do what I think you're going to do," he hissed, grabbing his servo. The Decepticon jerked away, glaring at the Cybertronian with a hint of insanity.
"I know you haven't…you know…in a while," he continued, "But you can't—at least, not yet. Let's wait until we get settled, and then you can later."
Deathstrike stared at him, the red in his optics blazing. After a moment of silence he nodded. "Do not expect promises."
Breakdown vented as he entered the portal. He'd have to keep an optic on him.
The Nemesis was huge, bigger than remember. Servant, Air Force, and Ground Force Vehicons crowded the area, running around like Scraplets to get their leader's orders fulfilled and to escape his wrath.
"Follow." The faceless mech spoke in a robotic voice that was out of place with his intimidating composure. Breakdown glanced at Deathstrike, who was standing with narrow optics. Breakdown could tell by the icy look on his faceplate that Deathstrike was already mapping his attack.
"Deathstrike," he muttered. "You don't want to be restrained."
"Try and you will be first," the mech growled, following the faceless mech with Breakdown trailing after him.
Their guide stopped at a door, seeming to freeze in place. The two glanced at each other after a minute of silent waiting. Breakdown was the one who spoke.
"Are you—?"
The mech straightened, as if coming to attention, and the door whipped open. He entered, glancing over his shoulder and expecting them to follow.
"The big guy has his own private quarters?" Breakdown paused. Deathstrike froze outside, glaring inside at something. Breakdown saw the fury blazing in his optics. "Deathstrike, what is it?"
Deathstrike growled, dentia bared in a scowl. Breakdown pushed past him.
Starscream stood at the head of the room, ordering every Vehicon around while monitoring their every move with his deep red stare.
"Tell." The faceless mech spoke, startling the Seeker.
"Soundwave, you know not to—" As he whipped around, he froze. His gaze was fixed on Deathstrike and Breakdown.
"What are you doing here?" His optics widened at the sight of the two.
"Decepticons," Soundwave played in Starscream's voice.
"Never mind that!" the Seeker snapped. He pointed his finger at Deathstrike; it was shaking in fear. "What are you doing here?"
Deathstrike said nothing, grinning sadistically.
Starscream growled, though his wings lowered.
"Where is our liege? Breakdown and I have matters to discuss with him."
"I am leader of the Decepticons now," Starscream snapped. His pride gradually returned and his wings rose.
Deathstrike stared through narrowed optics. "You?"
"You've got to be kidding me," Breakdown added, crossing his massive servos.
"Why is this so hard for everyone to accept?" the Seeker growled. "Megatron's spark has been extinguished—it is no more. He is gone."
"Well the, Commander Starscream," Deathstrike said, leaning against a nearby wall. "I suggest you tell us what happened."
As I warned you earlier, the characters may seem OC. I didn't want Breakdown to be a brute (but yes, he'll still kill it on the battlefield). I guess you can say this story shows his "nicer" side...if you can call it that. *rubs hands together and grins evilly*