[ THE "DRIFT GOT HECKED UP BY TARN" CATCH-ALL POST ]

[auramatic]

Who: Drift, Rodimus, Ratchet, Megatron and whoever else wants to chime in
What: the inevitable fallout of the fucked up shit Tarn just did to Drift
Where: Red Alert's clinic
When: starting a few days after Tarn beat the shit out of Drift
Warnings: a lot of sad. a lot of gay

jk i'm lazy, thread starters below

Comments

[milkruns]

June looks up at his face, at the desperate misery in his optics, and something in her chest heaves. The plating's still a little slick, but June sighs and presses her cheek to it anyway, the closest she can really get to hugging him.

"No," she says sadly, her gaze staying on his face. "I don't think there was, Rodimus. You couldn't have stopped him. And if you'd died trying -- who would look after your crew then? I think they need you more than that."

[rodders]

And she's right, Rodimus knows this tiny breakable organic is right. He knows he can't die, he still has too much to do for that to be an option; dying in the process of giving Tarn what for isn't going to help him with Luna 1 and everything relating to that. But it doesn't make knowing his uselessness any easier, any less of a weight to bear.

Especially when it's Drift, who he's failed before and can't deal with the thought of having done it again.

So instead he just exvents heavily, joints and frame relaxing bit by bit as he accepts the comfort he recognizes she's trying to give. Although that is kind of weird - he's never really associated humans with it; spent too much time trying to be killed by them to even consider it.

[milkruns]

June smooths her hand over Rodimus' plating over and over again, a soothing gesture just in its repetition. Human or Cybertronian, she can see when someone's struggling with themselves -- it's strange how someone who's been through millions of years of war can still look so much like a boy badly in need of a hug. A robot boy, granted. June sighs quietly, resting the side of her head against his leg as she looks up at him, at the misery on his face as it unfolds and opens.

"You'd do anything to protect them, wouldn't you?" she murmurs.

[rodders]

Of course he would, that's what he's supposed to do. "Yeah," he says, before falling into the sort of melancholy sadness he'd been in. "And Drift, I--" But he doesn't want to finish that sentence, or that thought. He owes Drift. Drift deserves more.

Rodimus isn't sure what she's doing. He recognizes the comfort for what it is - exactly that, but it feels strange to get it from an organic creature less than half his size. But he reaches out to curl a hand around her in a return of the gesture, not mindful of the fact that his hands are covered in energon. Maybe, he thinks, humans aren't completely awful.

[milkruns]

Cybertronian or no, June knows that look when she sees it -- that general air of helplessness to your own heart as it's dragged slowly down by the undertow. It's just a glimmer, a brief glimpse, but it resonates with her.

"He must be very important to you." She doesn't know who Drift is or what he is to Rodimus, but she can tell, just from the way Rodimus' voice almost breaks just to mention him. She gives him a soft smile as he curls his fingers around her, choosing not to be particularly bothered by all the energon right now, and she pats his finger reassuringly.

"I know how hard it can be when you can't always be there to protect the ones you love. Believe me, I know." There's an echo of that same helplessness on her face, in her voice, and for just a moment she rests her weight against Rodimus' hand. "But it doesn't make it your fault."

[rodders]

"He's my best friend," Rodimus answers with a heaviness to his tone that he doesn't know, doesn't indicate that there might be something more to it. His best friend who he exiled because he wanted to, who he hasn't seen for months and as soon as he got him back, this happened.

He doesn't respond to that statement, because he doesn't agree with it, even though he can tell she's trying to help. He should have been there, he should have done something, and it feels hollow and empty that he couldn't. Not because he wants to be a hero, but because they're his responsibility and he already failed them once. He can't do that again.