Disclaimer: I own nothing – at least nothing Transformers related.
AN: Wow, I never had a chapter that was so hard to write.
I'd already almost finished another version of this, from another POV, but when I read it again, I noticed that it was boring and lengthy.
What I really wanted to show had become much too short, more a footnote than real content.
So I wrote it again and this is it.
This version is much better – at least I think so.
Thanks to mdnytryder for correcting this chapter. Happy Halloween!
13/28 Caring (AU G1)
It was a wonderful evening.
The wind howled through the canyons, it rained like there would be no tomorrow and wet leaves made the ground dangerous to even a Cybertronian.
The sky was dark and full of clouds, occasionally showing the pale, full moon.
The storm had the whole area around the Arc in its unyielding grip and it was simply perfect.
The perfect atmosphere for Halloween.
Inside, the rec room of the Arc was dimly lit by some strategically placed candles and a small cracking fire.
Red Alert had thrown a fit about said fire, while Inferno had stood beside him and grinned like a maniac.
False cobwebs, rubber bats and hollow pumpkins dangled from the ceiling and the room that had been cleared of all chairs and tables and garnished with large pillows and cushions that had everybody speculating where Sideswipe had gotten them.
All off duty Autobots sat around the fire, laughing and telling ghost stories, each one painted or dressed up as some sort of monster, fictional character or other Earth creature.
Bumblebee had decorated himself with more black stripes and false wings and looked simply ridiculous as a giant bumblebee.
Sideswipe had managed to glue masses of fur to his metallic skin and proudly wore a fake set of sharp teeth, ears and a furry tail.
His grin hadn't gotten any more trustworthy under the costume, and each Autobot gave him a wide berth. He was enjoying himself far too much for anyone's liking.
Jazz had painted himself a pale grey with pink traces of energon here and there, claiming that he was some sort of Cybertronian zombie.
His chance to win the award of being the creepiest mech of the Arc was destroyed by his slag-eating grin that just didn't seem to waver.
The reason for his cheery mood could be the fact that he had accomplished not only talking Prime, but Prowl as well, into wearing costumes.
The SIC wore a black cape and fake teeth, his calm and cold nature doing the rest in letting him impersonate a vampire.
Prime had reluctantly agreed, (some whispered he had lost a bet), to let himself be painted silver with a large black pseudo cannon attached to his right arm.
He suffered good-naturedly along at every joke at his expense.
Dressed in a star-spotted blue cape, a high, pointed hat, large glasses that kept slipping from his noseplates, and sporting a scar in the form of a lightning bolt on his forehead, Bluestreak had no clue who or what he was supposed to be.
But, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had said that he looked great, so he smiled and accepted the costume.
They, along with Jazz and Bumblebee, kept snickering each time they looked at him, and by now it had started to annoy him.
Honestly, what was so funny?
And why did they continue to harass him to finally finish off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (the Megatron-turned Prime)?
He just didn't get it!
Ratchet came as himself.
It was suggested by the twins, as they could think of anything scarier than their CMO.
He had just finished an old Cybertronian story about an unnamed monster living in outer space that ate planets.
Supposedly, this monster was a dark brother of Primus himself and tried to kill him and every living being.
After Ratchet had accepted everyone's praise for a story well told, Bluestreak asked the one question that would lead to events that no Cybertronian present would ever forget.
"Have you… uh, have one of you ever seen a ghost? A real one? I mean, I know that there are no such things as ghosts and that most incidents related to ghosts are only human imagination gone wild…. Not that I have a thing against human imagination, it's great, better than ours, for sure, but… have you ever seen one?"
It was a sign how important the question was for Bluestreak that he never strayed far from the topic and finished after only a couple of sentences, his optics large, embarrassed, frightened, expectant, anxious and hopeful all at once.
Only Blue could give you such a look without having you laugh at him.
The other mechs considered his question, some shrugging uncertainly, others shaking their heads.
After awhile, Sunstreaker, out of all Autobots, answered the Datsun, a scowl on his face and his optics turned to the ground in uneasiness.
"I've heard one. At least I think I have…."
Sideswipe turned to his brother in surprise. Even he didn't know about this.
The bond with his twin told him that Sunstreaker was, of all things, ashamed to admit this and truly wanted to hide right now, and get away from all the attention he normally so enjoyed.
The red mech scooted closer to his twin until he could feel the soft hum of the engine under the golden metal.
Sunstreaker didn't say anything, but Sideswipe could feel gratitude flowing through the bond.
"It was… it was when I wanted to join the Decepticons."
A collective gasp was heard, followed by an, "I told you so!" from one of the Minibots at the other side of the room.
Prime lifted a hand before anyone could say a thing, willing the others to be quiet and let Sunstreaker speak.
The yellow twin continued, rubbing unconsciously at a scratch on his otherwise pristine paintjob – not even Sideswipe could convince his twin to hide his perfect appearance behind a mask or anything so ridiculous.
"I had fought in the underground matches in Kaon for some time and when the uprising of the Decepticons became inevitable, I thought that I would fit there best. I'm not really a kind mech and I love to fight. We were kindred spirits, them and I."
"But you didn't join!" insisted Sideswipe and glared at Cliffjumper who was muttering insults under his breath and seemed about to attack Sunstreaker.
Nobody seemed to know what he was, he looked like some sort of poisonous red and white mushroom.
"I almost did – but suddenly I heard… a voice or something, directly in my CPU. I tried to ignore it, to will it to go away, but it stayed and told me things about the other gladiators I didn't know and never wanted to know. It spoke of a coming war and what would happen to Cybertron and its people. I didn't listen and insisted that I didn't care, that it wouldn't matter what happened to all those not willing to join Megatron or to fight against their own kind…. But then it began to speak about Sideswipe and asked me if I was willing to sacrifice my own brother for a mad mech with delusions of grandeur and the destiny of becoming a mass murderer."
Sunstreaker cycled air through his vents like a human sigh, "I couldn't do it. I didn't join and stayed away from them. Later I could see that the voice had been right. About everything."
The other mechs were silent.
After some awkward minutes Tracks broke the stillness, laughing uneasily, "And that's your ghost? Sounds to me as if you simply had a chat with your conscience. Congratulations, Sunstreaker, you have a conscience."
The golden warrior glared at the Firebird and snarled, "I know my conscience, its name is Sideswipe, and this voice didn't belong to him! In fact, I'd never heard it before and never again after that episode!"
Sideswipe had the good grace to look touched at the exclamation of his twin.
Before Tracks could answer, a disembodied voice floated out of a corner – Mirage, playing ghost, "I believe Sunstreaker's story. I've heard a voice, too. I don't know if it was the same one, but when the other Alphas made their deal with the Decepticons, something began to whisper in my mind and told me about the things all of my peers didn't want to acknowledge. The voice convinced me that what happened was wrong and to stand up against it."
Smokescreen spoke up next.
He had never heard a voice himself, but he knew that after too much Energon, Sandstorm would sometimes tell a story about how he had decided against swearing allegiance to Megatron.
The triplechanger also spoke of the voice with a hint of fear in his tone.
Apparently, his ghost had become rather "forceful" after a time with no adjustment in Sandstorm's attitude, smashed his whole apartment in the progress and scared off all his costumers.
Encouraged by the others, more and more Autobots began to tell stories about a voice whispering in their CPU's, sometimes warning them of incoming missiles on the battlefield, other times suggesting the best routes of attack or shouting a loud and commanding "Duck!" or "Hide!" when they were about to be discovered or overrun by Decepticons.
Even Ratchet grumpily admitted, that sometimes grave and complicated injuries deep inside of a mech's structure mended themselves right before his optics, the broken parts being lifted and rearranged by invisible hands until the self repair systems of the wounded could reconnect everything to the right places.
"Actually, why did you ask, Bluestreak?" queried Jazz after the CMO's descriptions of moving cables and circuits.
Even the naturally cheery mech couldn't help but get the creeps after so many stories hinting at the existence of a real ghost, a Cybertronian ghost.
The voice seemed to mean well most of the times – but it was just unnatural.
The little Datsun twitched his doorwings nervously and began to pick at his cape.
"I saw one," he admitted quietly, going against his very nature with the short statement.
He found one thread at the hem and pulled until the fabric began to unravel.
"You saw one, really?"
The other mechs shifted in their seats, not knowing if they wanted to hear the story.
The Halloween that had began so simply, suddenly became so solemn in a short period of time….
"When I was trapped under debris in Polyhex. After I was rescued by you I first thought I had seen Prowl, but later I heard the ghost's voice again and then I wasn't sure anymore and…," he took a deep breath to calmed himself.
"I was trapped. There were flames all around me and… and bodies from the bombs and lasers. I could not move and it became hotter and hotter. I thought I was hallucinating because of the shock or Energon loss, or smoke, the smoke was so thick, I could abrely see anything, or…," he interrupted himself again.
"Anyway, I first thought that he wasn't real, but there was somebody speaking to me, reassuring me that help would be on the way, that I would survive and everything would be, not alright, but at least get better…. I could not answer, my vocalizer was damaged, but somehow he seemed to know what I was thinking and he told me that I was the only one left, the only one out of the entire population of Polyhex…."
Bluestreak began to sob, trapped between the wish to hide his painful and frightening memories away and the need to tell somebody what he had experienced.
"After… after some minutes the smoke cleared a bit, but the heat had damaged my optics and I could only see colored blurs. He, it was a mech, I think, he was white and black and red, so I later thought it was Prowl because he is also…. Anyway, he stayed the whole time even when everything threatened to collapse and the heat became unbearable, encouraging me, comforting me, telling me that I would not die there and that I would find great friends, people who cared about me and that I would have a wonderful future if I only fought on and didn't give in…."
Bluestreak couldn't continue speaking, so heavy were the sobs and so terrible the pain in his Spark.
He leaned into the embrace the twins offered and cried.
When his tears finally ceased to flow he whispered quietly, "He apologized to me."
He tried to wipe his tears away and failed, there were still bright streaks visible on his cheeks.
"I don't know why he apologized, he had no reason, without him, I would have given up and simply died. And Prowl and the others would have never found me, I couldn't scream, he was the one who shouted for help, and…. I don't know, I would really like to thank him and to know who he is and why he does so much for us and…. I don't know."
"It's okay, Blue. We understand what you mean," said Jazz softly.
The saboteur leaned back and looked around.
"You know, I'd also like to know who this ghost is. He seems like a nice enough guy, so it would be good to know him better and thank him."
He smiled slightly.
The smile froze on his faceplates when a voice without an owner whispered quietly but audibly for everyone to hear, "No, you wouldn't."
Starscream's ghost watched the Autobots frantically look around, searching for an explanation for the otherworldly voice.
Perhaps it was one of Sideswipe's bad jokes, a notion, that was discarded once everyone saw the look of fear on Sideswipe's faceplates.
Some of the mechs were puzzling over the meaning of the statement.
But, every single Autobot present was wishing that they had never heard of Halloween and ghost stories.
When you were a ghost, no longer bound by the rules of time and space, unable to influence your own life or stop yourself or your former comrades from pursuing a path that would lead all of you into darkness, despair and death, you had enough time to think about the past and your failures and mistakes.
And to wish you had done better….