anon_decepticon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
anon_decepticon) wrote2009-05-19 01:57 pm
anon_decepticon) wrote2009-05-19 01:57 pm
Smoke and Mirrors: Up in Smoke
Title: Smoke and Mirrors: Up in Smoke
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
anon_decepticonRating: M
Pairing or Character(s): Inferno x Breakdown, Red Alert.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers.
Warning(s): Slash, sticky, heavy petting, voyeurism(?), angst
Summary: G1. Inferno has brought a Decepticon back to the Ark. Will Breakdown fit in among the Autobots?
Author's Note: Inferno's POV. Part 4 of 4. Be sure to read the previous installments Moth to Flame, Crash and Burn and Playing with Fire before tackling this one, as it will make very little sense without them. Thanks to my readers for sticking with me, and thanks to
kookaburra1701 for her valuable input.A/N: Picks up right where the last one left off, in the conference room of the Ark.
“Thanks, Red.” Inferno smiled gratefully at the smaller mech. “I was sure they’d all think I’d slipped a gear or somethin’.”
Red Alert regarded him with a serious expression. “You didn’t have to do this, Inferno.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got so caught up in my scheming I didn’t stop to consider your feelings," Red Alert said. "When you ran out the way you did, I was certain I’d lost you forever. I thought you’d never forgive me for being so insensitive.”
Inferno stared at him in disbelief. Red Alert had thought he was angry at him?
“And then I find the reason you were so distant lately is because you were trying to put my plan into action," Red continued, shaking his helm sadly. "Even after how I’d treated you, you still put what I wanted first. Put me first. You’ve always done that. You’ve always stood by me, no matter how bad things got. I think...that's why I fell in love with you.”
Inferno’s spark swelled in response to his lover’s declaration, but close on its heels was a hot surge of guilt. He hadn’t lost Red Alert! Red still loved him, had never stopped loving him...and he’d betrayed him. Red thought Inferno had sought out Breakdown for him, thought Inferno had been acting selflessly, when the truth was precisely the opposite.
He had to tell him.
“Red...”
Red Alert reached up to place a hand against Inferno’s cheekplate. “You’re the most generous mech I know, Inferno. You’re not like me – petty, spiteful, vindictive – when you see someone in pain or in need, you never hesitate. You reach out to them, no matter who they are, no matter what the cost. Even Breakdown! Even after what he did to you, to us, you were still willing to help him.”
It was awful. How could he tell Red that he wasn’t caring or generous at all, that he was petty and spiteful and vindictive too? That he was really a treacherous, evil monster of a mech who didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone?
If he truly loved Red Alert, how could he not tell him?
“Red, please...”
“I don’t think I could bear the thought of existing without you, Inferno. Who else would put up with someone like me? Please, say you forgive me.”
“I don’t have to forgive you, Red. There’s nothin’ to forgive–”
Red Alert looked up at him in surprise...and then smiled, shaking his helm. “I truly don’t deserve you, Inferno.”
Inferno’s processor was whirling. He had to tell Red the truth! But how could he tell Red the truth? Red Alert thought he was this wonderful, selfless mech! If Inferno told him the truth, would Red Alert still love him? How could he, once he’d found out what a monster Inferno really was?
And then there was Breakdown. The Stunticon was sure to tell someone what had happened between them eventually. Red Alert would find out, one way or the other.
Inferno had to tell him first. It might be bad, Inferno might very well lose Red Alert forever, but if Red Alert learned the truth from someone else, Inferno knew it would be a hundred times worse.
“How did you manage to contact Breakdown?” Red asked. “How did you convince him to come back with you?”
Inferno could feel the situation rapidly spinning out of control, but he struggled to stay calm. “I just...ran into him. It wasn’t planned or anything, it just sorta...happened. An’ all I said was that he could join us if he wanted – that we’d protect him from Megatron if he did.”
At least that much was true. Half the truth was better than a lie.
Red Alert frowned thoughtfully. “Odd...I suspected he might be willing, but I would have thought he’d need more persuasion than that. He may not be completely loyal to Megatron, but he is part of a gestalt. Gestalt members are said to share a special bond with one another. When the Dinobots and Aerialbots defected, they all went together.”
“Well...I did give him some energon. Did you know they had him drivin’ around with his reserves at forty percent? An’ he said that was normal! That’s when I knew I had to get him outta there.”
Red cocked his helm slightly, regarding Inferno thoughtfully. “And that was all it took? An invitation and some energon?”
Was that suspicion in Red Alert’s optics? Inferno’s spark clenched in panic. He thought fast. “I guess maybe the fact that it was me doin’ the offerin’ might have had somethin’ to do with it. I mean, he did come after us that time, so, um...he knew who I was.”
“Yes...” Red Alert agreed musingly. “And you were kind to him then. Perhaps he felt he could trust you.”
“...maybe,” was all Inferno could think to say.
“Well, I suppose we could always ask him. It would be a good way to gauge his sincerity.”
Red Alert was already heading for the door, clearly intent on putting his idea into action immediately. But if Red talked to Breakdown–!
“Wait!” Inferno blurted out.
Red Alert stopped, half-turning to look at him inquiringly.
“Let...let me do it. He knows me. If I ask, he’ll probably tell me the truth.”
Red Alert considered that. “Hmm. Perhaps you’re right. Coming from me, it might seem more like an interrogation.”
“Yeah,” Inferno agreed. “An’ anyway, I don’t want you goin’ near him. He may have switched sides, but he did threaten to kill you. I’m not givin’ him another chance until we’re sure he can be trusted.”
Red Alert smiled. “Fair point, Inferno. I’ll leave it to you.”
Inferno nearly sagged with relief. He’d bought himself some time.
And if he could convince Breakdown to keep quiet, he could buy himself some more.
**
Inferno keyed in the locking code to open the door to Breakdown's temporary quarters-slash-cell and peered inside. For an astrosecond he thought the room was empty, that during his absence the Decepticon had been removed or somehow escaped – but then he spotted him, huddled on the floor between the far wall and the foot of the berth.
“Hey,” Inferno greeted him, stepping into the room and allowing the door to slide shut behind him. The lock re-engaged with a soft click.
Breakdown scrambled quickly to his feet, immediately assuming a fighting stance, his hands curled into fists. Upon spying Inferno, his posture relaxed marginally. “Oh. It’s you.”
“You okay?” Inferno asked.
Breakdown half-shrugged, trying to appear casual and failing. “Sure.”
Inferno moved to join him, laying a gentle hand on the smaller mech’s shoulder-tire. “It’s okay to be scared,” he told him.
Breakdown shrugged off his hand, half-turning away from him. “I’m not scared.”
Inferno gave him a skeptical look.
“I’m not,” Breakdown insisted. When Inferno continued to regard him with the same expression, he added, “Stop staring at me! I’m not scared!”
“Okay, okay,” Inferno conceded, laying a hand on his shoulder-tire again. “You’re not scared.”
Breakdown seemed mollified by that; Inferno's hand was allowed to remain. For several kliks neither mech moved or spoke.
“They were all looking at me,” Breakdown said quietly.
“That’s because they’re not used to you,” Inferno replied. “But they will be soon – it’s been decided! They’ve agreed to let you stay.”
“But I don’t belong here,” Breakdown whined, fidgeting in agitation. “I’m supposed to go back to the base. They’ll be looking for me. If I don’t go back, they’re going to be really mad…” he trailed off, keening unhappily.
“You don’t have to worry about the Decepticons anymore,” Inferno reassured him. “You’re safe here with us. I promise.”
“No I’m not!” Breakdown retorted. “They’re watching me! They’re staring, I can feel it! I can feel them staring at me!”
Inferno frowned in puzzlement. “There’s no one here but us.”
“They’re looking at me, I know they are!” Breakdown cried, his façade of calm crumbling in the face of his distress. “They know I don’t belong here!”
Inferno reached for him again, but Breakdown pulled away, moving back to his corner and crouching there, backstruts braced against the wall, knees drawn up to his chestplate, arms wrapped around them, his helm lowered to hide his optics.
Inferno’s frown deepened. Breakdown looked as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible. Given that the Stunticon was shaking hard enough to rattle his own plating, Inferno guessed he probably was. He could tell that Breakdown was trying to be brave, but Inferno had detected the faint hisses and pops of static that had crept into his vocalizer as he spoke, betraying his fear.
His spark sank a little. He’d thought Breakdown would be happy, or excited, or even simply relieved at the prospect of joining the Autobots, not this. Had he done the wrong thing? Would it have been better to let Breakdown go back to the Decepticons? To go back to being starved, terrorized, forced to fight?
Inferno shook his helm. No, he couldn’t do that. No mech deserved that! Breakdown was just uncomfortable in his new surroundings. Once he began to feel more at home, everything would be fine. He’d be glad he’d stayed; he’d have no regrets...
Nodding to himself, Inferno crossed the room and crouched down near the Decepticon’s feet, reaching out to lay a hand on his knee-joint.
Breakdown flinched at the touch and curled into an even tighter ball, rocking in agitation.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Inferno assured him. “You just need time to get used to things.”
“I don’t like it here,” Breakdown whimpered without raising his helm. “Everyone keeps staring. They don’t want me here.”
Inferno’s spark clenched in sympathy. He wondered if the ‘Bots who’d objected to Breakdown’s presence would be half so adamant if they could see him now.
After a brief deliberation, he offlined his optics. “I’m not staring,” he said quietly, “and I do want you here.”
Being effectively blind, for a tense moment Inferno had no idea if his ploy to comfort the Stunticon had worked, but then his audials caught the faint sound of shifting metal, and he felt tentative fingers brushing against his faceplate, over his darkened optics.
“You see?” Inferno asked, a smile curving his lip components. “It’s gonna be all right.”
Breakdown responded by kissing him.
For an astrosecond he was too startled to react at all. Half a klik later, the only thought to enter his processor was the observation that Breakdown’s inexpert technique had somewhat improved. It took a full klik – during which Breakdown continued to pepper his faceplate and lip components with shy, hesitant kisses – for Inferno to remember that he’d originally come here to request Breakdown’s silence with regard to the nature of their association, and to make clear that he intended to end it.
At least the more...intimate aspects.
Delayed reaction aside, once that recollection arose in his processor, Inferno realized with a start that he no longer felt the temptation that had once seemed undeniable. Red Alert still loved him! That might change once Red learned the whole truth, but Inferno didn’t wish to compound his betrayal by interfacing with Breakdown again. He’d come to care about the Decepticon, true, but he no longer felt the same despairing, self-destructive desire, the same dark, irresistible lure of the forbidden that had once driven him from his lover’s side and into the arms of an enemy.
But as the Stunticon tried to climb into his lap, Inferno realized it was a moot point. Right now Breakdown needed him, needed his support and reassurance, and yes, regrettably, his touch. It was clear that Inferno was the only thing Breakdown had to hang onto in his new and unfamiliar surroundings, and equally clear that he intended to hang on very, very tightly.
Still, Inferno had to try. He owed it to Red. He drew back, gently but firmly rebuffing the Decepticon’s advances, and got to his feet. When Breakdown followed, reaching for him again, trying to get closer, Inferno halted him with a hand.
“Stop,” he said.
He couldn’t see Breakdown’s expression, but the confusion was clear in his voice. “Why?”
The question was harder to answer than Inferno had thought it would be. “It’s not, uh...we shouldn’t...that is, um...I don’t want to,” he finished lamely.
“Why not? I thought you liked it. You said you liked it.”
Inferno could almost envision the bewildered look in those purple optics. “I know,” he replied. “But we can’t.”
“But I want you to,” Breakdown persisted. “I don’t understand. I came here, I did what you said–”
Inferno shook his helm, guilt bearing down on him like a crushing weight on his shoulder-struts, and turned toward the door. “I should go–”
“No!” Breakdown cried, almost frantic. “Don't go, please!”
Inferno winced, his spark twisting in its chamber. “I have to.”
“But why?" Breakdown asked, sounding increasingly distressed. "Did I do something wrong? What did I do? Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not,” Inferno told him.
“Yes, you are!” Breakdown insisted. “You want to leave, you don’t want to –” He broke off abruptly, vocalizer crackling. He fell quiet for a few astroseconds, obviously thinking, then offered haltingly, “You...you can do it the bad way, if you want. I – I’ll let you. Please. Don’t go.”
Inferno was engulfed by a wave of horror, pity and guilt in response to Breakdown’s suggestion, at the confusion and desperation inherent within it. It made his spark ache, to think that Breakdown wanted his attentions so badly he’d volunteer to be taken painfully rather than not at all.
“No,” Inferno replied firmly, “I told you I’d never do that again, and I meant it.”
Inferno didn’t realize Breakdown had quietly inched over to him again until he felt the warmth of his chassis pressing against his own. “Please,” he begged, his vocalizer hissing with static. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, please...”
Inferno cycled his vents in a sigh of resignation. He didn’t want to betray Red Alert again, but he didn’t have the spark to refuse such desperate pleas.
“All right,” he said, turning away from the door and slipping an arm around Breakdown's waist components. “I’ll stay.”
Breakdown practically melted into his embrace, his relief apparent to Inferno even without the benefit of his optics. He clung to Inferno as if afraid he’d disappear at any moment, which might not have been too far from the truth.
Inferno stroked his helm soothingly. “It’s all right,” he said. “Everything’s gonna be alright, you’ll see.”
For a few kliks they remained that way, the Autobot murmuring meaningless words of comfort, the Decepticon clinging to him, until Inferno began to suspect that it wasn’t an overload Breakdown craved so much as the simple reassurance of his touch.
But then Breakdown began kissing him again, stretching up to reach his lip components, gripping his shoulder-struts for support as he leaned into him.
Inferno returned his kisses, feeling helpless. No matter what he did, someone would get hurt. He prayed to Primus that Red Alert would understand, that he’d forgive him for being too weak-sparked to deny Breakdown, but deep down he feared that wouldn’t be the case. Red wouldn’t care that Breakdown had cried and begged, only that Inferno hadn’t said “no.”
Inferno wished he could have said “no.” He wished he could be here with Red Alert in his arms. It had been over two megacycles since they’d last interfaced. It felt more like an eternity.
Sighing inwardly, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand, retracting his nozzle and setting both hands to the task of pleasuring Breakdown. He slid them upward along Breakdown’s backstruts, seeking out the sensitive spoiler by touch and running his fingertips along its edge. Breakdown arched into his touch with a faint whimper, reaching for Inferno's helm crests, lavishing him with hungry kisses.
The gentle stimulation of one of his own hot spots felt good, and another wave of guilt swept over Inferno. Breakdown was making every effort to satisfy him, and Inferno was repaying him with half-measures.
It wasn’t Breakdown’s fault Inferno’s feelings had changed. Even he had been surprised by that revelation, so it was no wonder Breakdown was confused. He couldn’t withdraw his affections now – they were all Breakdown had, the one familiar element in his otherwise foreign and hostile surroundings.
Breaking the kiss, Inferno said, “Berth.”
“What?”
He gestured in the direction of the berth he couldn’t see. “If we’re goin’ to do this, we might as well do it right. You’ve never been ‘faced in a proper berth; I think it’s high time you were.”
“Oh,” was all Breakdown said. He let go of Inferno, stepping back a pace, and Inferno gathered from the brief silence that followed that he was looking speculatively at the indicated object.
His suspicion was confirmed a moment later when Breakdown asked, “Um...how do I –?”
“On your back,” Inferno supplied, anticipating the question.
“Like I’m going into recharge?” Breakdown asked, sounding mildly incredulous.
“Yeah. 'Cept you won’t be rechargin'...at least not anytime soon.”
Breakdown laughed at that, a soft, slightly embarrassed laugh that warmed Inferno’s spark. He’d never heard a Decepticon laugh like that. Maliciously, maniacally, mockingly, yes, but never so…unguarded.
The faint clank and scrape of metal against metal informed his audials that Breakdown had complied with his request. Inferno moved to join him, following the sound, using his memory of the room’s layout as a guide to find his way to the berth and take a seat at the foot of it.
He reached for and found the Decepticon’s legs, running his hands down their length from hip plate to foot, urging them up and apart to make room for him to kneel between them.
He had to admit there was a certain erotic appeal to being unable to see his partner, to being forced to rely solely on sound and touch. He’d first discovered that during his original encounter with Breakdown – an encounter that, like this one, had initially been less than welcome – but Inferno found the appeal had not diminished over time. A flush of heat suffused his chassis, his core temperature climbing several degrees.
He ran his hands up Breakdown’s sides, then shifted them up and outward to rest flat on the berth, fingers spread wide to support his weight as he leaned down over the smaller mech. His external sensors, finely tuned to detect even the tiniest fluctuations in temperature, promptly registered the heat rising from the Stunticon’s frame, a heat that was steadily increasing by the astrosecond. Using that as a guide, Inferno sought out his goal – the source of that heat, Breakdown’s spark, pulsing with anticipation beneath many layers of armor plating.
The low, quavering moan that teased his audials as he circled that literal hot spot with his glossa was one of the sweetest Inferno had ever heard.
He'd always loved the way Red Alert voiced his pleasure during an interface – chanting Inferno’s name with every thrust, singing it out with uninhibited abandon as he overloaded. He'd have never guessed that Breakdown’s restrained moans and quiet whimpers would arouse him just as much, but the spontaneous revving of his engine left little doubt that they did.
Breakdown’s engine echoed his with an answering rev, matching Inferno’s desire with his own. He reached for Inferno’s helm crests again, but this time instead of merely gripping them, Breakdown stroked, running his fingertips over every fin and ridge.
Inferno couldn’t help but groan at the sudden rush of pleasure coursing through his frame, making his core temperature spike. The next thing he knew, he was growling lustfully, sucking and biting at Breakdown’s neck cables, grinding their panels together hard enough to swap paint.
Breakdown’s engine roared in response, his legs drawing up to twine around Inferno’s waist components, his hands releasing Inferno’s helm crests to clutch at his shoulder-struts as he arched and writhed beneath him.
“Oh,” Breakdown gasped, soft and startled. “Oh,” he breathed again when Inferno shifted his weight to his left hand and plunged his right between Breakdown's thighs to vigorously stroke his panel.
“Open,” Inferno commanded, his vocalizer low and husky with static.
Breakdown whimpered as the small strip of metal retracted obediently, revealing his intimate circuitry. The whimper became a moan as Inferno rubbed the heel of his palm against Breakdown's newly-exposed valve. It came away warm and slick with lubricant.
“You’re so revved,” Inferno commented in surprise. “I’ve barely touched you, but you’re practically soaked.”
“I can’t help it,” Breakdown moaned. “It feels so good when you touch me.”
He could only shake his helm in amazement. At this rate, Breakdown would overload before Inferno was even ready to open his panel, let alone interface.
Oh, he thought, unconsciously echoing his partner, a solution to his dilemma abruptly dawning on him. He didn’t have to betray Red Alert! At least, not completely. If he could bring Breakdown to overload without actually interfacing with him, if he didn’t take things all the way, that would be better, wouldn’t it? It'd still be a betrayal, but a lesser betrayal, one Red Alert might be willing to forgive.
“Is that...bad?” Breakdown asked worriedly, noticing his lack of response.
“No,” Inferno replied sincerely. “No, not at all.”
Buoyed by the hope of escaping from the trap he’d found himself in, and feeling a measure of the weight of guilt lifted from his shoulder-struts as a result, Inferno resumed his efforts with renewed enthusiasm, slipping two fingers deep into Breakdown's valve, rubbing the external sensor node with his thumb, and receiving a strained cry of pleasure in return.
“You like that?” he whispered huskily, continuing to seek out and stimulate every sensor he could find, both within and without.
“Nn-nnnhnnn,” Breakdown keened, his hips bucking.
“Are you close?” he purred in the same low, seductive tone. He didn’t really need to ask; the heat and electricity crackling over Breakdown’s frame and the way his valve was flexing and tightening around Inferno’s fingers, lubricating heavily, was answer enough.
“Yes – oh! – yes,” Breakdown panted, repeating the word like a mantra with every pump and grind of his hips, every thrust of Inferno’s fingers, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes –”
Recalling that Breakdown liked to be kissed as he overloaded, Inferno leaned down to do so, mapping out the interior of his mouth with his glossa, unconsciously matching its movements to the rhythm of his fingers still pumping steadily in and out of Breakdown's hot, quivering valve.
Breakdown was trembling beneath him, hovering on the brink of release. Inferno could smell the ozone of his sparking circuits, feel the waves of heat radiating off his chassis, hear his engine revving wildly – he didn’t need his optics to know what was coming...
Breakdown unexpectedly broke the kiss, gasping through his intakes, sobbing out, “Ah - ah - Inferno–!” as he succumbed to overload, twitching and shuddering in throes of ecstasy.
Hearing his designation voiced in the heated tones of passion triggered a reflexive response from the Autobot: “I love you, Red!”
The moment the words left his vocalizer, Inferno realized his mistake. He also knew instantly that there was no hope that Breakdown had been too caught up in his overload to notice; the Decepticon had gone very, very still.
Spark clenching with dread, Inferno onlined his optics.
He’d expected anger, irritation, perhaps even disgust, but not the utterly stricken expression that greeted him.
Breakdown looked so -
He looked like the ground had been pulled out from under him.
...lost.
“Him,” Breakdown whispered, so low Inferno could barely hear him. “You’re thinking about him.”
“Breakdown…” Inferno began, but trailed off, unable to find the words to complete that sentence.
“You don’t want me,” the Decepticon said slowly, his tone soft and wounded, his expression a mixture of confusion, hurt, and dreadful realization. “You never wanted me.”
Inferno reached for him, speechless with regret but still wanting to offer comfort. Breakdown sounded so hurt...so broken...
Breakdown spied the hand reaching out to him – a hand whose fingers still glistened with the evidence of his recent overload – and flinched back, shrieking, “Don’t touch me!” He began to struggle, kicking and squirming, his hands shoving at Inferno’s chestplate as he endeavored to escape, pinned beneath the Autobot’s large, heavy frame. “Get off!” he cried, his vocalizer crackling with static, “Get off, get off me!”
Chastened, Inferno hastened to obey.
Breakdown scrambled away from him on the berth, backing himself into the corner formed by the flanking walls, staring at Inferno with wide, devastated optics, his intakes heaving.
Inferno straightened, turning to face him, mouth open in preparation to offer some form of apology – and found himself face-to-face with a concussion blaster.
Now it was Inferno’s turn to be rendered frozen by shock and disbelief.
His processor raced, frantically striving to process this new development. How had Breakdown managed to conceal a weapon? Hadn’t anyone bothered to search him?
Of course they didn’t, his CPU informed him. They thought you had. You told them he wouldn’t hurt anyone. They assumed you'd said that because you’d disarmed him!
“Breakdown…” he tried again.
“Shut up!” Breakdown screamed. “I’m not listening to you anymore! You tricked me! You lied! You, you – ” he faltered, casting about for the perfect words to sum up Inferno’s betrayal. “...you hurt me,” he whispered.
Three small words.
The crushing guilt returned, and this time it was the size of a mountain. Suddenly the thought of deactivation at Breakdown’s hands seemed more fitting than frightening. No, on second thought, a concussion blast to the CPU at point-blank range was too good for a mech like Inferno. It was better than he deserved – too quick, too painless.
“Do it,” he said.
The blaster’s barrel rattled against his helm as Breakdown’s hands shook.
Inferno didn’t flinch. “You’re right,” he said. “Do it.”
Breakdown keened miserably, a disconsolate sound so spark-breakingly akin to that of a lost youngling that Inferno was overwhelmed by a wash of despair.
“Don’t move,” someone said.
Inferno looked up. Red Alert was standing in the open doorway, his own weapon trained on the Decepticon.
“Red!” he blurted in surprise. “How did you-?”
“Security cameras,” Red Alert replied curtly, his optics never leaving Breakdown.
Inferno stared at his lover, his processor reeling. Red Alert had been watching the security feeds! He’d probably gone straight to the monitor room after he and Inferno had left the meeting!
He'd seen everything. He’d heard every word.
Red Alert may have trusted him, but he was still Red Alert.
“Red, I’m so sorry! I never meant to –”
“Be quiet, Inferno,” Red Alert interrupted crisply. His next words were directed at the Decepticon. “Lower the gun, Breakdown.”
Breakdown keened again, low and desolate.
“It’s going to be all right,” Red Alert told him, his tone firm but gentle. “Put down the gun. I know you don’t want to hurt him.”
“He hurt me,” Breakdown whispered again.
“I know he did. He didn’t mean to. Put the gun down, and we can talk about it.”
For several kliks a tense silence reigned. No one moved. No one spoke.
Breakdown’s injured gaze rested on Inferno, his violet optics wide and flickering. Inferno stared pleadingly at Red Alert, his faceplate stamped with guilt and shame, azure optics begging for forgiveness. Red Alert continued to look at Breakdown, his expression filled with sorrow and resignation.
Breakdown’s arm lowered abruptly, falling limp at his side with a soft clank, the blaster pointed hopelessly at the floor.
“I want to go home,” he said quietly.
“I think that can be arranged,” Red Alert replied gently.
“No!” Inferno blurted out.
Both mechs turned to look at him in surprise.
“You…you can’t go back,” Inferno stammered, sensing he was on suddenly shaky ground.
“Inferno...” Red sighed.
“He can’t!” Inferno insisted. “You said it yourself, Red, remember? He’s–”
“Inferno!” Red cut him off, sharp as a blade.
Inferno shut his mouth abruptly, cowed by his lover’s tone.
Another tense moment of silence passed between them.
“They were starving him,” Inferno offered weakly. “We can’t just...”
Red Alert looked him in the optics, for the first time since he’d entered the room.
His lover didn’t look hurt, or angry – which was a relief – but Red’s strange, sorrowful expression was almost more unnerving than anger would have been. Anger, hurt, jealousy…those things Inferno could understand.
“Are you in love with him?” Red Alert asked quietly.
Inferno’s optics widened, shooting back and forth between them. “What? No! No, of course not, Red, I love you! I’ve always loved you! I know I’ve messed things up, but please, you have to believe me, I never–”
His declaration was interrupted by another low, painful keen. Inferno looked at Breakdown in surprise.
Red Alert, who’d also turned to look at the Stunticon, shook his helm sadly. “I love you too, Inferno,” he said resignedly. “But sometimes I wish that just once you would think with your processor instead of your spark. Or that you would think at all.”
“I don’t understand–” Inferno began.
“I know you don’t, Inferno. You have no idea, do you?” Red Alert shook his helm again. “I’m not surprised. But I should have known. It was so obvious…I just didn’t see it at the time.”
“What are you talkin’ about, Red?”
“I’m talking about Breakdown,” Red Alert replied impatiently. “I’m talking about this – this situation we’re all in!” He cast a look at the Decepticon, who looked as bewildered as Inferno. “You love him, don’t you?” he asked.
Breakdown seemed startled at being addressed directly. His optics widened in surprise, then flickered. He cast about uneasily, his gaze shifting from Red to Inferno, and then away, avoiding them both.
Inferno couldn’t believe his audials. “That’s crazy, Red! You don’t seriously think–”
“Yes, Inferno, I do think,” Red Alert snapped. “Unlike some mechs I could mention.”
Stung by the barb, Inferno winced, but bulled on, turning to Breakdown. “Tell him,” he demanded. “Tell him that’s crazy!”
He couldn’t believe Red Alert actually thought Breakdown was in love with him, even suspected that Inferno loved him back! He had to settle this, had to put a halt to this ridiculous notion before it gained any more momentum in his lover’s paranoid processor!
“You wa-” Breakdown began, then corrected himself. “I thought you wanted me.”
Inferno shook his helm in frustrated disbelief. “You’re both crazy,” he said. “I can’t believe we’re even talkin' about this! You’re not in love with me, that’s...that’s just stupid–!”
“I’m not stupid!” Breakdown screamed. “You did want me! You saved me!”
Both Autobots turned to stare at him in shock.
“You’re the one who’s crazy!” Breakdown cried, his vocalizer choked with static. “You don’t make any sense! You kept saying you didn’t want me, but you still kept doing it to me! You’d hurt me, a-and yell at me, but then you’d be nice to me!”
Red Alert arched a browplate. Inferno shifted uncomfortably.
“And then…” Breakdown continued, his vocalizer dropping to a more normal register, “...and then you were just nice, and you said…you said you wanted me to come back with you, and I thought…I thought…” he trailed off, huddling into himself, keening quietly. “It was all a lie,” he concluded in a whisper, hiding his face in his arms. “I am stupid.”
“No, you’re not,” Red Alert told him. “He’s like that.”
Inferno didn’t know which shocked him more – Breakdown’s words, or Red Alert’s. “What?!” he spluttered.
“It’s just the way you are, Inferno,” Red Alert replied. “You’re impulsive and you don’t think things through. I’ve come to accept that about you.”
“Red…” he protested, hurt by his lover’s casual, dismissive tone.
“I know you’d never willfully hurt me, but that doesn’t stop you from doing it carelessly or unintentionally. You always charge blindly ahead, never thinking of the consequences…”
“Red..!” Inferno said again, his voice a plea.
Red Alert smiled gently at him. “It’s who you are, Inferno. It’s why I fell in love with you. Who else but a blind, impulsive, compassionate mech would run into a burning building to save a traitor?”
Red Alert glanced at Breakdown, still huddled on the berth, then back at Inferno. The unspoken addendum was written in his optics: Who else would try to save a Decepticon?
Inferno’s spark pulsed with sudden hope.
“But it’s that same courage and generosity that makes you stumble, Inferno. And when you do, you don’t just hurt yourself. You hurt everyone who cares about you.”
Red Alert looked at him then, and for the first time since he’d entered the room, he let Inferno see the hurt in his optics, the pain stamped on his faceplate.
Inferno’s spark sank.
“Red…I’m so sorry–” he began, knowing it was useless. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven. If he’d only known Red Alert still loved him, he’d never have given in to despair, never convinced himself that Breakdown was the closest he’d ever get to having his lover back again.
No, he should have known. He should have had faith in Red Alert, he should have known Red still loved him, would always love him. Inferno’s own doubt had led him down this path. It was his fault things had turned out like this.
Red Alert offlined his optics briefly. “Don’t apologize, Inferno. I’m the one who’s to blame for all this. I knew what you were going through, how confused you must’ve been…” he trailed off. “I knew first hand, and I still went and put that stupid idea in your head!”
“I don’t understand,” Inferno said.
“You were absolutely right, Inferno. What you said about Starscream...”
“I didn’t mean to say that, Red. I wish I’d never said it! That’s what caused all this!”
Red Alert stared at him in confusion. “Now I don’t understand.”
“I – I blamed you, Red. I knew it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t help it, but I still blamed you. And when Breakdown…when it happened, there was a part of me that was glad, a part that thought we’re finally even – and I knew it was wrong, that I shouldn’t feel that way, but I couldn’t help it, Red! I…I’m a monster. I don’t deserve for you to love me.”
Red Alert regarded him sadly. “And yet I do.”
Red Alert glanced at the Breakdown, quietly watching their exchange. “I suspect I’m not the only one. Perhaps you’re not quite the monster you think you are.”
Inferno directed his gaze toward the Decepticon as well. “Am I?” he asked him softly.
Breakdown looked discomfited at having the attention of both Autobots fixed on him. “I…I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this.”
“He wanted to help you,” Red Alert explained. “He never meant to hurt you.”
Breakdown shook his helm, “No, I mean I don’t understand any of this!” he said, sounding frustrated. He looked at Inferno. “Why did you save me? Why did you do it with me? Why did you ask me to come here? Why did you do all those things if you didn’t want me?”
Inferno opened his mouth to reply, but Breakdown wasn’t finished.
“What did I do wrong?” he asked wretchedly. “Why don’t you want me? Why do you still want him? I did everything he did! I did everything you told me to do! So why? Why don’t you?”
He’s so young, Inferno thought as he listened to Breakdown’s flood of unanswerable questions, pity swelling in his spark. I keep forgetting how young he is.
“Because love doesn’t work that way,” Red Alert replied. “You can’t make someone love you. Just loving them isn’t enough; they have to love you back. Sometimes they don’t.”
Maybe not so unanswerable after all.
“Oh,” Breakdown said.
“Sometimes,” Red Alert added, glancing pointedly at Inferno, “they just feel sorry for you. They feel bad that they don’t love you back, and they don’t want to hurt your feelings, so they try to pretend. It seems like the compassionate thing to do...but it’s not. In the end, it hurts more.”
“Yes,” Breakdown said quietly, almost to himself. “It hurts.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Inferno told him. “Not because of me. If you want to stay, if you still want to be an Autobot, you can.”
Breakdown shook his helm. “No. I don’t belong here. I want to go home.”
“But...” Inferno began to protest, but Red Alert touched his arm, forestalling him.
“He didn’t come here because he wanted to join us, Inferno. He came for you. Haven’t you realized that yet?”
Inferno looked at the Stunticon. “Oh.”
Breakdown looked from him to Red Alert and then back again. “You really don’t want me? You...you want him?”
“That’s right,” Inferno said. “I’m sorry.”
**
The two Autobots escorted Breakdown to the entrance of the Ark, where he transformed and took off with a screech of brakes and a squealing of tires. Within astroseconds, a slowly dissipating dust cloud was all that remained of his presence.
Just what Breakdown told the other ‘Cons regarding his absence - assuming he told them anything at all - Inferno and Red Alert never learned. In the cycles that followed, he would appear in many battles, fighting alongside his fellow Stunticons for the glory of Megatron and the Decepticon cause.
It was probably pure coincidence that the shots he aimed at the Autobot fire truck always went wide.
*fin*
A/N: Believe it or not, I consider this a happy ending for Breakdown. Yes, he got his heart broken, but first loves are like that, and he’s wiser for the experience. It’s a hard lesson to learn in any case, but I think he’s better off for having had an Autobot for a teacher. *shudders to think how another ‘Con might have treated him*
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(Anonymous) 2009-05-19 06:53 pm (UTC)(link)...especially since a 'con would have played on his ignorance and vulnerability the way that Inferno almost unwittingly did. Very nice piece, and you managed to pull it around to a palpable ending for all involved. The last line, I think, is what did it for me; what happened didn't simply go away, but the compassion left something good behind in Breakdown, even if Inferno hurt him badly.
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Oh god, Breakdown was breakin' mah heart.
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I think Red is better for Inferno, though. He has the emotional maturity to handle him, and he makes Inferno a better mech via his influence. Though not through any fault of his own, Breakdown made him worse. There were a lot of warning signs of a potentially abusive relationship with Breakdown and Inferno, so even though Breaky continues to carry a bit of a torch for him (lol, pun) I think it's for the best that it didn't work out.
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