we1rdly_en0ugh

“Hey…” You repeated, softer this time as it drew more into empathy. Maybe he was homesick, like you were. Given your estranged evolutions leading you down the same paths, it made sense to think that Eridians had a similar basis of thought-provoking emotions and attachments.

There was a low chord that answered you this time. It sounded almost… Heavy and was so resonant that the computer didn't bother to even pick it up and offer you a word in response. Something about it made you feel sad, a frown tugging at your face. “You okay?”

There was an intention to pause this time. You could see Rocky moving his carapace so he was facing towards you instead of away which was previously the case. Your eyes softened at that, though, the emotion was imperceptible to the genius engineer. He had to know though, based on the hushed tone of voice you were using what the general consensus was with your expression. 

His fingers clicked together like they so often did when Rocky was searching for the correct words. He was quick witted most of the time, so for him to sit and contemplate was… Mildly concerning. “State not optimal.” You straightened a little once your brain processed the implied meaning. “What’s wrong?”

“Today ♫♩♩♩♪♬♬ with Adrian.” 

You blinked, mouth opening and closing a few times as you looked at the computer to make sure you weren’t mistaken. That was a word that had never come up in any form since your time meeting Rocky. The tonal shifts and riffs used to express it seemed complex, notes layered upon chords and you tilted your head. 

“I don’t… understand that word, Rock. Can you explain it?”

Rocky shifted slightly closer to the wall as if the sounds he was making were going to wake up Ryland. “Time-cycle acknowledgement of mate selection.”

It took you a moment to unravel that one. Sometimes, talking to Rocky was like talking to a philosopher who talked in code. A very specific code and you weren’t allowed to have the legend to decode. Humming softly, you tilted your head against the xenonite and let the coolness seep into your temple. “Is that… important?” 

Your voice hesitated, an idea of the meaning floating around but like the true back and forth of two different life forms communicating, you needed more information before coming to the conclusion. Rocky was faster at it, a point of contention at times when you and Ryland took longer to put puzzle pieces together and Rocky was… Impatient. But… Rocky seemed like he wanted to talk about this, he was just going around it carefully. He went quiet for a moment, his claw motions coming to a languid pace. “Significant marker of continued shared existence.” Smiling more to yourself, you nodded, “Like, a celebration?” “Not celebration.” That was adamant. “Recognition of bond persistence over time.” It finally clicked for you as you leaned over, typing with one finger into the computer. ANNIVERSARY. 

“We call that an anniversary, there’s different types but the basis is the same.” Your voice was intentionally gentle and whether Rocky cared about that or not, you didn't know but you were sharing what you would consider to be a tender moment so the harder vocal tone wouldn’t have felt right. 

“It’s a measure of time, annually for Humans, to mark a significance in their lives that altered their choices and futures. Sometimes it can be as simple as moving jobs, or more complex like the date of birth.” That had its own conversation you’d explain when you had time, but you pressed forward. 

“In the case, it would be…” You hesitated, “A romantic intent.” Rocky clicked before letting out a low chord, something thoughtful but also something a little… Sad. He reached up almost subconsciously and let his claw graze against the beautifully colored dual circular mark on one of his arms. Wedding band, your mind went straight to that conclusion, eyes admiring the chic and gorgeous color even in the dim light. You wished you could touch it without his atmosphere burning you. 

 “Concept aligns. Is anniversary with Adrian.” Rocky concluded.

“That must be hard. Being away for it. From them.” You were hushed, readjusting your shoulders so you could look at him properly. He’d stopped working at this point, setting the chains down on the ground. 

“Yes.”

The computer chimed simply but you could hear the melancholy in the way the sounds were coming from his carapace. He tilted towards you as if seeking some sort of comfort and there was a twist in your stomach at the fact that you were only able to give comfort in the form of words. “Mate bond reinforced at these intervals. Physical presence is preferred.”

You let out a quiet breath, huff of sorts at that. So, your kinds were not so different after all. But, Erdians were still Hermaphrodites and you did wonder if the physical presence indicated the next start of an egg cycle. Not the time and place to ask, you filed it away to ask later when Rocky wasn’t so… blue. “I understand.” 

It got quiet again, the hum of the ship sinking back into the forefront mixed with the continuation of Rocky working xenonite into chains. You found your gaze back towards Ryland, his front side facing you, propped on his side as comfortably as he could in the otherwise uncomfortable plush of the Hail Mary bedding. 

You could see the tuft of his blonde hair peeking out from under the blanket that he had rather cutely tucked over his face to block the light, but honestly? It was more to block Rocky’s gaze even though the echolocation assured no true form of privacy. Ryland had to know that, but still, watching him sleep was… Endearing. Different from Rocky who looked at it as a necessity, a social norm to keep alive. Your heart did another shift in your chest at that thought. About the 23 other Eridians that made their way to Tau Ceti with him but died. The days and nights, all blurring in the concepts of space, he watched them sleep and then not wake up. It felt selfish  to think you were alone when Ryland was with you.

Rocky… Truly was alone for so long until the Hail Mary showed up, and he was missing his anniversary to save his planet. There was something oddly poetic in that and you respected the Eridian that much more for it. 

“Question.” There was a shift in resonance as Rocky moved a bit to get back into your line of view as you had been staring at the scientist across the room. The tone used that mixed with the computer program was changed, back to curiosity but seemed to still carry that quiet weight. “Yeah?”

You whispered, forcing your eyes from intent focus to glance at the alien next to you who was clattering his digits together as if trying to tie together some complex calculation. You smiled at that. Maybe he was, he was able to focus on more things than once so maybe this conversation was just a secondary action. “(Last Name) have mate, question?”

The question should not have surprised you but something about it landed softer than you expected. Deep and cutting without intending. You heard from Ryland a few days ago that, while in the ‘Don’t Go Crazy Room’ he had been asked the same thing.

And while you deeply yearned for the conclusion from Ryland regarding that, you didn't press and kept it tied-up professionally as he explained to you that Rocky did in fact have a mate. Seems like it was a heady topic on board a ship were there was very little gossip.

There was no point in pretending. You shook your head curtly and glanced down at your socked feet, letting one of your hands reach down to fiddle with the extra fabric. You must have grabbed a pair of Ryland’s without thinking, they were a little big. 

“No. Not really.”

“Clarify.”

“I mean I…. Spent time with people, cared about them a lot.” 

The idea of having to explain dating was not on your bingo card for the day so you found yourself tip-toeing around certain phrases that you knew he would understand with implications involved. “But nothing permanent. Nothing like what you have with Adrian.” You turned towards him again with a smile of encouragement at his very long lasting relationship. 

Rocky made a contemplative note as if he were trying to figure out what to say without sounding… Offensive. “No stable pair bond formed.”

“Right.”

“(Last Name) desire one, question?”

That required you to really sit and think. Hesitate wasn’t the word as you rolled the idea through your head over and over again. Obviously, you went on a suicide mission. You weren’t going back to Earth and had to cut ties with the desire that Rocky mentioned, but he was still in the dark about it. You and Ryland agreed to tell him just… Never agreed to a time or place. It was never just a you decision anymore, it was a ‘You and Ryland’, and there was less of a lonely solace in that as you nodded. “Yeah… I think I did. It just never worked out.”

“Unsuccessful attempts?”

You huffed softly, closing your eyes and shrugging your shoulders. Rocky didn't know how he came across sometimes, you couldn’t blame him for moments of brashness. In fact, they were often another source of comfort and kept the mission grounded when it needed to be. 

“That’s one way to put it.”

“You are currently without mate.” Rocky said.

The bluntness should have rubbed you the wrong way, but as you trailed your eyes back towards Ryland and the steady nature of his breathing, one of his hands now curled against his chest, his upper half pointed towards you still, peaceful and so far gone in whatever dreams fluttered behind his eyelids, his lower half somehow contorted and pressed against the mattress.

There were a few strands of his blonde hair in his face that you felt your fingers twitch at the desire to brush them aside and let your touch graze against his sharp cheekbones and trace the curve of his dark eyelashes. Worst of all, you… Wanted Ryland to actually let you do that. You dug your fingernails into your thumb and tried to get that out of your mind. 

Rocky shifted slightly, thoughtful as he observed the stagnant air and stare your body was exhibiting towards Ryland. “You experience distress due to this.”

“Sometimes.” You admitted. There was another long pause and for a moment, you thought that Rocky was done and that he had gotten all of the information he needed and came to his own conclusion on things without saying he was done.

It happened sometimes, and life would go back to normal. As normal as it could so far from home, with a five-legged alien who could see through walls. It felt like your skin was a bit prickly at the fact that… Rocky was still pointed towards you, and there seemed to be a minute shift to his carapace towards Ryland. This silence was different, your shoulders drawing in on themselves. It felt heavier, shaped by everything he’d shared with you about Adrian. 

“Suggestion,” Rocky said, cutting the air with a metaphorical knife. “Grace is viable candidate for mate bond.”

The words hit the air and didn’t quite land like Rocky expected, you could tell. Not from his face - Eridians didn't really have expressions in the human way that you were used to, but over time and extreme proximity, you could read him like a book.

It was simple, really based on how his arms moved his carapace, how the shift of rock-like structures at the top shifted and how he twisted himself. It was like a subtle recalibration of sorts, equal to if the ship had briefly lost gravity and then found it again without major consequences.

Something about the way he looked at you told you clearly that he meant what he said and that there was no translation error from the computer system. 

The faint hum of the Hail Mary suddenly felt too loud, too aware of itself. Even Ryland’s steady breathing behind you seemed to pause in your perception, like your mind had decided to listen to everything at once and now it was a loud mess of culmination at what the Eridian just threw scientifically into the air.

You’d say recklessly, but nothing Rocky did was reckless. It was always based on observations… Your eyes widened. What did he observe that drew him to that conclusion?!

“Y…” You scoffed a bit, shaking your head, not too adamantly but enough to get the point across, “I think you’re misunderstanding something, Rocky.”

Rocky didn’t backtrack. He rarely did. He was… Stubborn. 

“Compatibility high. Shared mission. High stress environment. Mutual reliance. Emotional stabilization observed.”

The way your throat tightened at the words felt painful and every breath that came into your lungs was pointed like a knife. “That’s not…”

You began slowly, carefully, but the words died in the air. It was so much easier to deflect than to answer truthfully, you knew, but even deflection came at a cost. “You’re wrong. There’s nothing between Grace and I. I’m a little… Offended you even brought it up.”

“Explain. Rocky made logical assessments from many variables noticed over time. (Last Name) have no assessment mentioned. Stupid debate.”

A quiet breath came out of your nose, almost incredulous, caught on the edge of a laugh but it didn't quite make it there and you sounded like a strangled animal but still remained fragile. You were yelling at yourself not to look at him, if you had even a second’s control over your own thoughts. But of course you did.

Your gaze found Ryland again, drawn to him like it always was, like he was the only thing in the room full of a thousand buttons that did a million different things.

The slow rise and fall of his shoulder beneath the blanket felt almost hypnotic, like a rhythm your body had learned without asking permission to remember. Your eyes lingered longer than they should have and decided to take in the delectations he had to give. 

The way the dim light caught against his tanned skin, the way it played against his beard and captivated hairs to appear more golden than blonde, the subtle shift in his breathing pattern, the… Gravity of his entire presence. Known to you for so long, but you chose to shove it aside. And now? It felt ridiculous really, how easily your brain was about to unravel around the simplest him. How the noises that were in your head became gentler. 

“I do care about him.”

The words come carefully and quietly, like admitting them to anyone but yourself might break something that had been non-spoken for so long. Out of your peripherals, you could see Rocky cease. Not silent, never was, but still in the only way that you imagined he could be. And nothing about his stance yelled at you that he was going to gloat about being right in the first place, or laugh at you for crumbling so easily. That urged you to continue, the lack of judgement, your voice lower now as if the other human in the room would wake up if you spoke too rashly. And yet, there were still flickers of raw fragility around the edges of your chosen words that hurt you more to say than anything. “Ryland, I mean…I--- I care about him a lot. More than I probably should, considering the circumstances of the mission.”

You fingers began anxiously picking at the seam of your sleeve. “He… Makes it easier, you know. Being here. Being… myself.”

A small exhale escaped your lips, shattering into the air. “I guess I… didn't realize how much I needed him..” The words dies in the air but you both know what was to be said. I didn't realize how much I needed him until right now…

You stop talking for a minute and let your eyes trail towards some part of the room where Ryland wasn’t. You couldn’t say what you were going to say looking at him, guilt tearing you apart from the inside as it flashed against your lungs like an ugly whip. “I can’t… Do anything about it.”

Rocky tilted slightly. “Cannot care?”

You shook your head immediately. “That’s not the problem, Rock. I do care.” Your voice caught in your throat, it was barely a whisper but the Eridian detected it without issue.

There was a brief second where you wondered if Rocky would understand the infliction in your voice at that and the undertones of which it implied. You cared for Ryland, that was the problem. 

The confession hung there, suspended between you and the hard xenonite wall behind you. You picked at the sleeve a bit more aggressively, feeling the twinge of string come undone. The truth came out in a steadier thread, your voice collected and even despite the truest desire to scream in confliction. “I think… If we try to define it like that… If I turn it into something like what you have with Adrian…” There was a hush in the air as you drew yourself into a ball, your knees against your chest, leaning against the wall that captivated two atmospheres, “I don’t know if I could survive it going wrong.” Rocky clicked behind you - echolocation markers to check your status, along with Ryland’s though… Something told you this was more about yourself at the time. Your gaze flickered down to the metallic floor and you forced yourself to trace the patterns there, seeking some distraction. “And it would go wrong, Rock. It always does. Especially in cases like Ryland and I. Cases of forced proximity and loneliness. Humans are pack animals, we desire the connection others give us. It wouldn’t be fair to Ryland… To…” You swallowed hard and squeezed your eyes shut. “Force him into something that he wouldn’t even think about on Earth. So I just don’t… Call it that. I don’t call it anything.” Rocky processed your emotional dump in silence. There was no point in him interrupting it, you would have just gone on and words would have gotten tied together. He was trying to do what he did best. Shape the words you shared with him into logical and relatable pieces that he could metaphorically hold and understand that way. There was still no judgement, no harsh resonance from him as if he… Understood the emotional depth of which you were coming from. And maybe he did. 

“Love.” You stiffened at that, glancing your glassy eyes towards the computer to confirm that it was what you heard. You swallowed back a small lump in your throat at the thought that Ryland had a discussion with him and had to go into the deep fundamentals of human nature to even begin to describe that.

You wanted to be in the room when it happened, just to have an excuse of why Ryland even brought it up in the first place. There was a pang in your chest. Probably talking about some old flame, someone he left behind on Earth… That was the cynicism talking. Love itself had so many realms, and you were immature to think it only held true to one type. But this… You squeezed your knees softly. You wanted to think about it. How Ryland would describe that, what examples he would use, if you would come up in any shape. You wanted that personal lesson and for a split second, your irrationality got the best of you and you felt… Jealous of Rocky because he got it instead of you. 

“That is not…” You started reflexively, but it was pointless as the denial felt sour on your tongue. You couldn’t bring yourself to even finish. 

All because your eyes betrayed you again, drifting towards Ryland. Towards the absurd, grounding fact that he was even there at all, alive, real, tangible, asleep two meters away from you in a metal coffin drifting between stars. Earth’s two saviors. A brilliant Molecular Biologist, and a stupid, underqualified fool who couldn’t even keep their emotions in check. You exhaled shakily, comparing the motions to Ryland’s smooth breathing that kept themselves uniform and tight.

“Maybe…” You admitted finally, barely audible. The word felt too big in your mouth like you might gag on it; too dangerous to leave unguarded because it would choke you to death. You forced another round of saliva down your throat, trekking into a mandated steadiness, like your voice was a system you could stabilize with ease. “But I’m not doing anything about it.”

Rocky’s claws resumed their slow tapping, softer than before. Not work this time. Just rhythm. “Why not pursue if (Last Name) feels emotional distress due to adamant denial of complex human desire for mate, question?”

A humorless breath escaped your parted lips. “Because we’re here to save Earth.” 

Your voice was a touch above a whisper, tears threatening to come from the corner of your eyes at the confession that would never see the light of day. “And because I like what we are right now… even if it hurts a little. I don’t want to ruin it trying to turn it into something it might not survive.”

Silence enveloped the ship once again, but this time, it wasn’t empty. It felt like a… Shared understanding between you and Rocky, slowly forming a shape in a language neither of you fully spoke but somehow understood. He shifted once, and then settled against xenonite a little bit closer to you. You followed suit and readjusted yourself to lean against it more purposefully. “Human behavior strange.” You smiled slightly, tired and far away as you brought a hand up and wiping a stray tear off your cheek. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Grace sleep with proximity to (Last Name) often.”

Your face warmed instantly. “Yeah…”

“Behavior suggests trust bonding.”

“I know what it suggests.”

Rocky didn’t reply right away. The faint, rhythmic clicking of his claws continued behind you—soft against metal, precise, almost soothing in its consistency. It echoed just enough in the small space to remind you that you weren’t alone, even as everything else seemed to fall quiet.

“He doesn’t know, and… I’d like to keep it that way.” You explained to the Eridian.

“Would knowing alter mission parameters?”

“Probably.” That hurt. Your voice cracked, “Yeah.” “....Understand….” “Thanks, Rocky.”

And that was the part that scared you the most. Not the possibility of rejection, you’d get over that, or even the prospect of reciprocation, as exciting as that would be. Just… Change. Everything between you and Ryland was supposed to be steady and focused. And you were alive just long enough to matter and to save Earth. End of story. 

Your eyes pulled back to Ryland without permission.

Still on his side, still half-wrapped in that patch-work blanket that never seemed like enough, a relic from home, his shoulder rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. The dim overhead lighting softened everything about him, including your gaze as you silently said goodbye to the idea of ‘what could have been’. 

Your arms tightened slightly around your legs, the fabric of your sleeves bunching under your fingers as you held yourself there. The air felt cooler the longer you sat still, brushing faintly against your face, your hands, the tip of your nose. You barely noticed it compared to the warmth that came from just… looking at him.

“I can live with a little hurt.” That was low enough that it almost blended into the hum of the ship, imperceptible to most everyone, except Rocky. “I can’t live with losing him.”

The words settled into the space between you, heavier than anything Rocky had said, heavier than anything you’d been trying to avoid. For a moment, all you could hear was the ship, your breathing, his breathing—separate, but close enough to blur if you didn’t think about it too much. And for a sweet moment, all you could hear was your breathing intwining with Ryland’s. Separate, but close enough to blur if you didn't think too much about it. And you chose not to. 

Behind you, Rocky’s tapping slowed, then stopped altogether.

There were no more interruptions. No more logic, or questions. Just… Quiet. You swallowed, your throat tight, and let your eyes stay where they wanted—on the steady rise of Ryland’s chest, on the small, unconscious movements that proved he was still there, still within reach, still something real in a place that rarely felt like it.

“I’ll just watch him sleep… That’s enough for me. And hey, Rock?”

“Yes, question?”

You smiled softly, letting your head rest on your knees. “Happy anniversary.”

That was the conversation you had with Ultra Magnus the last time you went to meet Shockwave, after the whole Decepticon conflict with Megatron; when you found out your cybertronian boyfriend Longarm Prime turned out to be a one-eyed double agent all along.

It went horribly wrong. You entered with Jazz on a routine checkup. Shockwave had been hostile from the get-go, always was during visits, but the moment he saw you he went completely mad— seemed to think the Autobots were 'stealing' you from him, and that he wanted to tear Jazz apart.

"Oh if only I could have you in my servos… we would be so happy."

"You don't need them. They're beneath you."

"Why are you looking at me like that? No… STOP!"

"COME BACK, COME BACK!!"

He was screaming your name as Jazz took you out of his holding room, under one arm. You were hyperventilating with silent tears falling down your cheeks as you were comforted. For the longest time, you couldn't bring yourself to even think about him.

Until today.

You stood in front of the imposing doors made for beings so much larger than yourself. It was the middle of the night, and most Autobots were somewhere else. It was easy sneaking in as a small human, though getting past their security measures wasn't too easy. But now you just had one more barrier to go through.

Last time you had an Autobot with you. Yes, Decepticons were bigger than Autobots. No, you didn't think just one Autobot would be enough to keep an unshackled Shockwave at bay. But they posed a fighting chance compared to a lone, tiny, squishy human.

You didn't know what you were doing, or why you even decided to come here.

… No, that's a lie. You knew exactly why you came here. You just didn't want to accept it.

"Okay. Here we go. This is a bad decision."

But you weren't going to back down now.

The security panel beeps after you insert your card, and the giant doors split apart.

It's as if the room swallowed sound, apart from the drone of the electric prison Shockwave sat in. You walked in and the doors slid close behind you. The monster was slumped at the far wall of his cell. Your heartbeats were loud in your ears as he shifted, rearing his head up as if ready for a fight.

Then his eye met yours.

*****

The only sounds around him were the buzz of the electrical barrier, the incessant hum Shockwave's only companion. It was so quiet, he could hear the thrum of his circuits under his chassis. So quiet, that Shockwave found himself longing for the sounds of footsteps outside of the heavy duty doors beyond him. Even if they came from those pathetic Autobots, it was something, proof of life, something outside this isolating chamber.

It hasn't even been a full earth year, he thinks. A mere blip in the life of a cybertronian, but maybe it was being stuck in this chamber— or the fact he was completely aimless. If he had been caught during his mission and imprisoned, Shockwave would've laughed at his sentence. He would have hope that Megatron would succeed in retaking cybertron for the Decepticons.

But he's fallen. His king was defeated, imprisoned just like him, facing the Autobot judicial system. If only he could be there to witness. He's heard that Megatron has given up, and the Decepticons— whoever hadn't decided to abandon their post, at least— were aimless.

Then there was you. His flower. His soft petal. The human he met as Longarm and fell in love with.

He's scared you away. He tried to take you with him, when his cover was blown. He didn't even get the chance to have you as Shockwave before the Autobots took you away from his desperate claws. It was agonizing, thinking about you. He felt like he was dying without you. Sometimes, he wished he could.

Masterless. Mateless.

You gave him a chance sometime ago. When was that… maybe a few earth months ago? Even less than a blip for a cybertronian, but without you, the (days) crawled.

That last time he saw you. You were on a visit, with an Autobot, he's not sure why. Maybe they were trying to assess him for something. For some reason, you went along. He was happily surprised to hear your voice beyond the doors, then… but now all Shockwave could think about were regrets. He wasn't ready for you. He didn't expect you to come, nobody prepared him.

He could barely contain his emotions as soon as he saw you. He doesn't remember all the details anymore… just your face. Your expressions. The way your eyes widened when he slammed his hands into the barrier. The rage he felt for the Autobot that stood next to you. He didn't even remember who it was anymore, he just wanted to kill him, someone in his way— something was in between him and the woman he loved most.

Words tumbled out of his gaping face, claws dragging down his confines. Come to me, stay with me, where are you going, DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN!

He screamed, he cried as the Autobot picked you up and took you out of the room, the doors shutting behind you, leaving Shockwave to his own despair. He fell down to the floor. He doesn't know how long he cried for you, wishing he was slagged instead of having to see you be ripped away from him again, how green he was seeing another bot holding you in their hands. 

He almost feels embarassed now, having spent time alone with his thoughts. You had given him a chance. You saw him again. Maybe someone else chose for you, or you did. But maybe, if he contained himself better, you would choose to come back to him. But he's scared you a second time. Maybe you won't come back. He doesn't blame you.

It was just… so hard to act around you. You wouldn't leave his mind. Every waking moment he was alive and conscious, you were there. When he closed his eye, he saw your face. He remembered the times he held you as Longarm. How soft your skin was, under his digits. The sounds of your laugh, after he said something odd. The blush on your cheeks, unable to contain your smile, looking up at him with those gorgeous, twinkling eyes. Even now thinking about it made his spark ache.

What if he had stayed Longarm? What if he abandoned his identity as Shockwave and just stayed with you? Maybe it was worth leaving the Decepticons, so he could be with you forever. Did it really matter that he was no longer himself, if you didn't need to know the real him? If he had you, would it all be worth it?

He was a Decepticon prisoner now. Megatron is captured, and Shockwave has no bride. Maybe it would've been a better life.

"I'm sorry, lord Megatron."

He was thinking such weak-minded thoughts. But he couldn't help being weak for you.

It hurt so much, thinking what could've been.

He remembers the day you told him about what a human marriage was. A union between two souls, an oath to stay together until separation by death. A promise to love each other as long as they could. A ritual that pronounced, these two belonged to each other. A ceremony with pretty outfits, where people witness your union. Then you would belong to each other. Something that reminded him of a conjunx endura.

He wanted that.

The thought of you in a pretty dress, ready to join him…

"I just want to touch you again,"

His antennas straightened at the sound of his cell doors opening. Contact. Shockwave was separated from the other Decepticons, in his own isolation chamber, considered insane and threatening. He laughed at the thought.

Autobot Guard.

He hated them. The group responsible for the fall of the Decepticon cause, obstacles that blocked him from getting to you. Those tiny bots, thinking they could control him, though they shook in their plating even when a high energy barrier stood between him and them. He loved the new, inexperienced ones, the ones that stared at him with terrified optics, stuttering with every word. Oh how he enjoyed the way they squirmed when he stands to his full height, and let his eye bore a hole through their spark. They would squeal and scramble when he slams his servos against the barrier… their lovely screams were his only entertainment.

The stern ones however, he hated. The more experienced ones, the elite guard that he may have even met in battle, their pupils still shook if he could see them, but they kept their voice even. They waver, but not by much. They were boring, though Shockwave did take a small victory whenever he made them flinch. But that was it.

It didn't matter which one it was. Whoever was here now, he would make sure he'd make their life hell for being assigned to him.

… But when he turned, there was no puny Autobot. Instead it was…

It was…

You.

What?

This can't be real. He really was crazy.

That tiny human figure. Casting a long shadow toward his cell, the bright white lights behind you disappearing when you closed the doors. You were alone, no Autobot accompanying your side.

He… couldn't tell what you were thinking, or why you were here. You were looking at the floor, not at him, and he was dying. If he were human, he wouldn't be breathing. He couldn't believe it. His core was speeding up, his servos twitched. It's happening again. He could feel his body trembling.

He was desperate to have you back in his servos. But the closer he got to the barrier, he got a better look of your face. You looked so scared… just like—

…

Just like the time you found out his true identity. When he towered over you, in the shadows, red demonic light looking upon you.

"Dear, won't you come closer?

Trust me.

Everything will be ok,"

You couldn't even speak. You stumbled over your own feet as you ran away as fast as you could from him. He would've had you, if an Autobot hadn't interfered.

You stared at him now with those wide, fearful eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly. It hurt his chassis to see it again. It practically snapped him back to reality, reminding him of all the mistakes he's made in the past. No. He couldn't scare you again. He had to be careful. Make sure you don't run away again. Act nice, act good. Maybe then you'll come to him. That's all he could hope for in this blasted cell.

"Shockwave," Your voice was so small. Said in a way that almost sounded like you didn't want Shockwave to notice you, even if you were squarely in his sight.

"My love, my light, my spark…" he spoke in a dream-like fashion. The mere sight of you calmed him. Maybe because you were alone, no one there to ignite him. "How… why are you here?"

He doesn't need to know. But. He wants to.

Maybe you came here by yourself. Maybe you chose to be here.

Maybe you chose me.

"I… I brought my own access card." You answered hesitantly.

You didn't answer his question.

"Did someone send you here? To sweet-talk me into doing something? Here so that those cowards don't have to see me?" Shockwave spat.

You took even longer to answer, eyes falling away from his, playing with the access card.

(You tell shockwave you stole the card and he loved you so much)

You let out a long breath. "I'm… I'm alone. I'm here for myself, actually."

He shouldn't ask. He really shouldn't. He might not like your answer.

"Why?"

But he wanted to know.

You started to shake a little. You couldn't hold his eye for more than a few seconds. Your voice sounded a little wet when you responded.

"I-I have a lot of complicated feelings about you. Ok?" You stammered. He's not sure whether from fear, nervousness, or something else. "I felt like I needed to come see you. I don't know. It doesn't make sense, I shouldn't feel… bad for you, but I do. And I,"

You grit your teeth, the words stopping in your mouth. Little gasps, like a little balloon. His poor little human, shaking so much. Even Shockwave didn't understand why you tried, when you were so afraid of him.

"I-I miss you."

…

Shockwave couldn't believe his audials.

It's everything he's wanted, but he'd never expected you to utter those words, especially after that horrendous last visit.

"Y/n-"

You interrupted him with a frustrated grumble. "Ugh, saying it out loud… it sounds crazy, even for you! I feel so stupid this is the stupidest idea I've ever had, I don't know why I'm here or why I'm telling you this, I feel like I'm really losing it, I just— I don't know what else to do!"

You bit a finger, looking away from him.

"Don't get me wrong, you, you… you Decepticon! I-I'm still scared of you, you're frightening, but I," you bit your trembling lip. "I miss you anyway. I missed who you were, what w-we had."

Shockwave couldn't pinpoint whether you were angry or scared. Probably both. You looked up at him with those mixed emotions, rubbing the back of your neck, looking like you wanted to crawl out of your skin from how uncomfortable you were. Every word sounded like you had to force it out of you.

"This is so hard. Everyone probably thinks I'm stupid for even thinking this… you probably think I'm stupid and naive for even thinking about,"

You paused, and that's when Shockwave notices that you had not one, but two access cards. One for the entrance,

One for his cell.

"Thinking about…" you pressed on the card, like it was a lit match you were trying to snuff out.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I don't know why I even bothered coming here. This is the worst idea I've ever had, I should leave—"

"No," claws scraped on the floor with the speed at which he lurched forward. He saw your eyes widen and you took a step back when he did, and he remembers: act good.

"Please. Please don't leave." He sounded desperate. "I don't think you're stupid. P-please… come to me. I missed you so much,"

His entire body ached for you. He couldn't think properly when you were so close yet so far away, but somehow he was lucid enough to stay calm. Act calm.

"I'm dying without you. I think of you everyday. Please, please come into my cage. I promise I'll be good. I won't try to scare you. I just want you back,"

He's on his servos and knees, crawling to the very end of his cell, inches away from the blasted electric barrier between him and his beloved. It felt so cold being so close to you without being able to touch you. Somehow, as he crawled to you, you didn't move away from the barrier. Just a thin window between him and you, you were so close to him that you were bathed in the red spotlight of his optic.

He could see the red glow in your eyes before you turned away, looking at your access card and massaging it in your sweaty hands.

"I can't believe I'm actually thinking about this," he heard you whisper to yourself. "Hmh… Ok. I'll do it."

All of Shockwave's red accents light up with excitement, pushing himself off the floor.

"Oh! You don't know how happy you're making me my lovely—"

"But you have to promise me some things." You cut him, "Honestly."

Shockwave sits back down, voice somber. "Of course."

"Ok, so, um…" you mumbled, "do you promise you won't go crazy? Again?"

"Yes." He'll be on his best behavior.

"You promise you won't try to scare me?"

Like how he did to you when he had you when his identity was exposed? "Yes."

"You promise you'll be gentle with me and you won't try to grab me?"

He'll treat you like the most fragile piece of glass. "Yes."

… There was hesitation before you pronounced your last request.request.

"Do you promise to let me go, when it's time for me to leave?"

…

That was a hard request to fulfil.

He didn't want to lie. He didn't know if he could restrain himself. He didn't want more of the solitude he felt when you were gone. That's all he'd been thinking about.

Shockwave was quiet, for a while, proof of his thoughts visible in his twitching antennas.

"Shockwave?"

"Only if you promise to come back to me." He finally said.

Your eyes sparkled so cutely when you were nervous.

"O… okay,"

He smiled with his eye. He can live with that.

You tucked in the entrance card into your pocket and hold the other card in front of your face. You pressed your lips together, taking a deep breath.

"Ok. I'm doing this." You seemed to be gathering your courage. "Don't even try to escape. I'm not asking. If you move while I open the door, it's shutting and I'm leaving,"

You looked kind of angry at him when you say it. So cute…

"Okay."

"And, stand on the furthest wall, and don't move when I come in. O-only move when I say you can move,"

So assertive… <3

"Ok."

You twirled the card between your fingers, chest rising and falling. You turned to glare at the security panel, approaching it with purpose. It was agonizingly long, waiting for you to fix your resolve and move the card into the panel, but you eventually did.

You inserted the card to the security panel.

…

Beep.

And just like that, the barrier is gone.

It's the first gust of air he's felt since he was put in his cell. Proof that he existed in this world with the rest of its contents. The room felt so big, without the infernal blue wall, his exit just paces away from him.

But he didn't move. He didn't even have the desire to. What's the point of leaving when he had no reason anymore, beyond being with you?

Instead, his eye was firmly fixated on you, taking those tiny steps, crossing the boundary from 'outside' to 'inside'. It took everything in him not to pounce you, especially when you turned around, turning the barrier back on— the world cut off from him again.

But this time, you're here.

In fact, Shockwave felt even more excited with the barrier in place. It made him feel that you were locked in with him, that you were trapped with him. The thought of having you locked somewhere he can always reach you has always been appealing to him. But that's not what's going to happen today. He promised.

It was so quiet. He could hear the sounds of your breaths, fast and shallow. You looked up at him and… lord. You looked like the smallest, most pitiful thing he's ever seen, hugging yourself with your shoulders pulled up, legs pressed together. You wanted to shrink, and your eyes were watery. He heard your breath shake, and yet,

You took steps in front of you. First wobbly, then steady, closing the distance between you and him. You didn't walk all the way, stopping maybe two of his steps away from him.

You looked like you were going to cry. Shockwave couldn't tell if you were scared of him, or if you wanted him to comfort you. He thought it was both.

His brave girl.

His voice broke the silence, desperate and wanting.

"Can I," he tried his best to hide his excitement, trying to keep his voice level. "Can I hold you..?"

The conviction you had when you tried to keep him in check was gone. You made small squeaking sounds in response.

"That wasn't an answer, my dear," he cooed. He knew you must still have confusing feelings about him… perhaps you didn't want to give him any more satisfaction. That's ok. As long as you weren't outright denying him, he'll take your sounds as a tentative yes.

His claws approached you like giant metal traps about to close in on you. Despite you wincing a little and taking a step back from them, you didn't run.

"I'm going to take you now. You can say no,"

…

No answer.

Carefully with a finger, Shockwave pushed you into sitting in his cupped hand. It barely took any force to knock you back, and Shockwave was filled with adoration and the sense that he had to be extremely careful with how small and frail you were. He let out a sigh of relief… actually being able to touch you again. You were so light, that as he picked you up toward his face he wondered if he was hallucinating.

You sit there, looking him in the eye. You were pouting a little. He hadn't been able to look at you with such detail since the last time he held you as Longarm, before his identity was discovered.

So pretty. So cute.

You're jostled as he moves to sit down. "I've missed your face so much, my love," he says with a dreamy cadence.

You don't respond, instead turning and taking one of his claws in your hand. You're only able to wrap your fingers around them on his precise tips. Distracted, giving his digits some sort of nervous massage you've been doing with your own hands since you entered the room. He takes this as a sign that you were somewhat comfortable in his hand. He reached with his free hand and lets his claws explore you. Gently, carefully. One claw brushes across and through your hair, another tickling your cheek before it traced down the back of your head, to your neck and spine. You squeezed your eyes shut and shivered. The movement excited him, he wanted to squeeze you, but… he promised to be good for you. No scaring. If he behaved, you'll come back to him.

"Missed you so much," he mutters, not exactly expecting an answer, folding a finger and brushing under your chin with a knuckle. It took everything in him not to be rough, your skin was so soft he felt dizzy.

Yet the more you let him touch you, the sadder you looked, staring at his claw like a puzzle you couldn't solve. Your brows furrowed and a tear escaped your eye, surprising him. Before he could ask, you let go of him, leaned down in his palm, and curled into a small ball, resting against his other claws. You actually closed his eyes for him, Shockwave, not Longarm. You were being vulnerable with Shockwave, the realization making his pupil dilate.

It shrank again when you start twitching, and he could hear the tiniest sobs from you. As you covered your mouth, attempting to stifle them, Shockwave was left alone and confused. He wasn't sure what to do, were you upset with him? He wasn't sure how to comfort you when he didn't know why you're crying, or if you even wanted his comfort at all.

He asked, gently, "Love…? Care to tell me what's happening—?"

"I don't understand anything anymore." You spat, lowering your hands just enough that Shockwave could see your tearful, angry eyes. "Do you know how much I missed Longarm? Everything… everything made sense when I was with you. And then he left, and the world became so confusing."

He could only stare as you continued.

"You lied to me. You scared me. You said all these things, about wanting to keep me forever, and opening me up to see my heart and everything, and then you were taken away. You were there, but I lost Longarm. I, I didn't know what to do when you left. You were the most important person to me. The Autobots are nice to me, sure but… god, I sound so selfish when I say, I've never been as important to any of them as I was to you. Then there are guys like Sentinel who hates organics and call me 'disgusting', or if they're not saying it to my face they just look at me like I'm a bug. Ha, I know that Sentinel's like that with everyone, but it's hard not to let it sting."

"It's not all bad, I guess. Ultra Magnus is really nice to me," Shockwave's antennas straighten at the mention of his 'old boss', but he continued to listen. "But he's always so busy, and it's not like I'm dating him, I don't deserve to hog his attention all the time, just… I feel so lost without you."

Shockwave's antennas drooped. "Oh my poor soft one... I'm lost without you too, though I think you knew that already," he petted your hair. "My spark hurts for you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you from the horrible ones. I never liked Sentinel. I wish I could've killed him instead. Can you imagine being unpleasant to a Decepticon?"

You giggled at him, though it was weak, it was a sound that Shockwave sorely missed.

"When you talk like that, you sound so much like him. Like… Longarm," you laughed through your words, though it slowly turned back into sobs, trembling again.

You slammed a fist down on his palm, though it felt nothing more than how it would feel if you were to tap a finger on yours.

"W-why?" Your voice was raised a bit, trying to swallow your sobs. "Why did you have to be Shockwave? Why couldn't you just have been a normal Autobot? Why did you drag me into this mess, why did you have to love me? Why didn't I just fall in love with a normal guy? Why d-do I still love you? Why did you make things so complicated..?"

Your voice went quieter again. "I-I just miss being in your hands, so much. You made me feel the safest, and I wasn't worried about you leaving me. Even now, when I know you're Shockwave, and you are Shockwave, you still make me feel safe, for some reason, you make me feel important, and you need me, and you love me, and,"

You were so wobbly. You paused, hiccups interrupting your breaths, your words. You pulled on your hair and let out a wail.

"I hate you. I hate you so much," you sobbed, "and I miss you. I love you. I don't know why, but I love you, you, horrible thing,"

Shockwave is… silent. He didn't know what to say. What is there to say? You were overwhelmed, and it's as if your feelings were spilling into his spark chamber, he felt so full and overwhelmed. Instead of speaking, he curled down closer to the floor, bending his chest around you, his face above you. Carefully, he wiped a tear of your face, bumping into your forehead.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry,"

You were still stifling your hiccups. Even still, you reciprocated his touch by nuzzling his face, holding on as if he would 'leave' you again.

"You must think I'm so stupid, for still loving you, even after everything you did, a poor human, falling for the deceptions of a Decepticon,"

"No. Never. I love you. I want you to love me," Shockwave insisted. "You know if I had the choice I would never leave you. You remember that I tried to take you with me, right? If I had my way we would still be together, with nothing in the way. And then you ran way from me,"

You groaned.

"Rrrghr, of course I ran way from you!!" You 'woke up', hitting him on the face, nothing but soft paps to him. "Did you really think I would just, just— jump into your arms after you showed me you've been deceiving me, and you were a scary Decepticon that wanted to kidnap me to your ship and transform cybertron into a Decepticon-controlled world?"

"No. That's why I had to kidnap you. Or, tried to," Shockwave laughed quietly, his eye forming a crescent.

You stared at him like you wanted to choke him, though it looked very cute to him, especially when you huffed at him, throwing your face away and furiously wiping your tears away.

"You're a stupid, foolish 'con,"

"I am. For you,"

You looked back up at him.

"You know, I wish I wasn't Shockwave either. I want to be Longarm for you." Shockwave admitted, something that seemed to surprise you. "But don't mistake me. I hated being an 'Autobot'. They bore me, they play by boring rules, and spoke of doing 'good' things. I don't like playing nice. Not then, not now. But,"

Shockwave looked at you, pointedly. "You make me want to be good. You made me wish I was good. You made being 'good' fun. I wish everything Longarm was supposed to be was real. I wish I came out of the Well as Longarm, so I didn't have all the dark thoughts of Shockwave. I wanted to be good for you. Just you."

You still wobbled, but you were quiet, passively letting your tears slide down your cheek, sobbing under your breath. You closed your eyes at the way he stroked your hair.

"Would it help if I was Longarm now?"

You opened your eyes.

"If you saw him again, would you be h…happier?"

Not waiting for an answer, his colors start to shift, into greys and blues, antennas bending down—

"N-no, stop!" You all but grabbed him by his antennas, panicked look on your face. "Please, don't. I can't see Longarm right now."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I assumed… you're not ready for him."

"No I'm not, but it's not just that," you grimaced. "It feels wrong to me to see Longarm right now. I know you want me to be happy but it feels like you're just hiding yourself. Putting up a fake version of you. It feels wrong for you."

"I thought you hate Shockwave,"

He's never heard himself sound so sad and small before.

"I don't…" you sighed, "I don't hate Shockwave. I just have a lot of conflicting feelings. But I want to see you. The real you. I want you to be Shockwave,"

Somehow, Shockwave is relieved and not at the same time.

"We've been together on deceit for a while. If we want this to work, we should rebuild it with truths, right?"

He supposed so.

"I… can't say if I like Longarm more than Shockwave or the other way around," you admitted, "You're the same person. I miss Longarm, but he isn't real. Shockwave scares me, but you are real."

Your cheeks were a little red, playing with a claw again. His antennas twitched, he always loved your red cheeks.

Shockwave had to set something straight.

"You know, Longarm isn't all fake."

You looked up at him.

"It's true that Longarm never existed until I thought of him. Yes, he was just a moniker I adopted so I could be accepted into the Autobot ranks. He wasn't a true Autobot, and he didn't really uphold all the nice things that makes an Autobot real."

…

"But everything to do with you, that was real. You were real to me. I loved you. I still do. You know, you weren't part of my plan. There was no tactical point to being in love with you. Every moment we spent together wasn't me pretending, it was real. That was me. Perhaps I was hiding my true colors, but that didn't mean everything I did and said to you was a front. You were the only thing that was real about Longarm. When we laughed, when I smiled at you, when we shared a kiss… that was me, enjoying every moment I spent with you. That was Shockwave, in Longarm's body, hiding the scarier parts of myself, but feeling real emotions. The times I had with you were times that made me wish I really had that life. That I was an Autobot."

Your eyes twinkled at him, cheeks becoming more red, and you touched your hands to them, looking thoroughly flustered. You were so cute, he wanted to eat you.

You laughed, small. "You did say weird things from time to time. In hindsight, I know that was Shockwave slipping,"

"Aha," it was Shockwave's turn to be a bit flustered. "I did, didn't I? I said some thoughts out loud that no normal Autobot would think."

"You told me about doing experiments on lengthening human lives. Or if you couldn't do that, you would freeze me until you could find a way,"

Shockwave's antennas drooped and wiggled bashfully.

"You weren't even an Autobot scientist, and you were talking about all these, um… weird sciency stuff, you nerd,"

He laughed. "I told you I was real, sometimes. And— you liked it! You're laughing right now! And I trusted that you wouldn't scream at those thoughts. And that made me feel a little crazy,"

"Oh Shockwave," you shook your head, "you're more than a little crazy."

"I know I am. Especially when it comes to you."

It's the first genuine smile you showed him. It was small, but real, and sweet. A look that was oh so familiar to Longarm that had evaded Shockwave, until now.

Suddenly you're standing, your eyes at his level, and…

Your lips were on his face, one hand bracing against the border around it. Shockwave made a startled sound, a sound he didn't think he could make, frozen at the bold move. He's still for a few seconds more, until his eye flutters close and he returns the gesture, pushing a little into you. He may not have a proper mouth in this form, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a kiss. It wasn't as perfect as how it was when he kissed you with Longarm's mouth, but it was as sweet and warm as it ever was.

Eventually you pull away from him, even while Shockwave still want more. You looked at him with a mysterious, mischevious expression.

You snickered. "It's a bit weird to kiss you now, when you have no mouth."

"I have a mouth."

"How? Where??"

He opens his mouth… sideways in the void of his face. While you were distracted, a black tendril swiped over your cheek, making you squeak and tumble back into his fingers.

"W-what was that?" You yelped, touching your now wet cheek.

"A tongue," he answered, his eye a red crescent.

"EEEEEEEK!" You use your shirt to wipe the mark, then hid your face in it. "EEEEEEeeee! You're so weird, you're so weird Shockwave!"

For a moment, Shockwave worried he went too far, freaking you out, but then your face peeks, and he could see the barely contained smile and the bright red hue on your face.

"You liked that?" He asked, a playful lilt in his tone. "I can do so much more than that…"

You squealed. "EEEEE no no no stop, stop it!"

It was hard to when you encouraged him so much.

"You're a weird human too. Liking me," he poked your cheeks, trying to draw you out of your hiding place.

"Ugh, I am. There must be something wrong with me if I like you this much,"

"I like wrong."

Your expression softened after the weight of his words settled on you, emerging from your shirt. You were still hiding your giggles as you sat back down in his palm.

"Hm," you wiped happy tears from your eyes. "Shockwave,"

"Mm?"

"Can I stay with you?"

The patterns across his body lit up for a second.

"You know that's everything what I want."

Your eyes widened and you quickly add, "I'm… not staying here forever."

"Not yet," Shockwave claims, hopefully.

He's suprised when you answer,

"Yet."

You didn't disagree with him. Maybe that meant that one day, you'd want to stay with him forever. Maybe you wanted to be his conjunx or even… human marry him?

… It's something he could think about, when he's alone again. The important thing is, you didn't say no to forever. Maybe one day when he's good, for real, you'll stay.

It's the best incentive for him to be good.

'Oh fuck. Is that...Trots? Jesus Christ.'

Caz stared in horror at what his friend had become. From the waist down, Trots was just an amalgamation of flesh that spouted tendrils to keep his balance whilst his uniform had been torn to near shreds, leaving only pieces hanging from his arms and upper chest.

Is this why Gibbo didn't want to be looked at? He couldn't blame the poor bastard.

With his eyes wide and the muscles in his neck twitching, Caz knew this was only one way to get back to Roy.

Shit.

He gave himself a moment to calm down before turning the torch off and quietly opening the door. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and he had to hold in a gag from the rank smell that struck his nose. He couldn't afford to be spotted, but the noises from Trots' cries of pain and repeating of words carried an echo throughout the room. Caz, for a moment, thought Trots had already seen him and was playing the long game to lure him further. To make himself smaller and quieter, he crouched and awkwardly tip-toed over broken glass and anything that could make a sound.

An open cupboard gave him a moment to breathe again. It only took 10 seconds, but it felt like an eternity for the leccy. He peered out and saw Trots at a better, or in this case, worse angle. 'What the fuck...?' Caz noticed Trots' legs below the knee hanging against the growth. Every few seconds they would twitch, but The Shape had them firmly in place. And whenever they tried to move, Caz noticed Trots made a groan in agony. There was nothing to be done and Caz knew that.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed a Cadal mug by his feet and aimed it towards the other side of the room. He shuffled some of his body from his hiding spot and tossed it over the small pile of laundry machines before quickly tucking himself back in.

Clunk.

Trots reared his head with a curious 'chirp' and took the bait. No longer distracted by the strange light, he crawled along the floor, clearly in pain, as the tendrils latched and detached themselves from anything they could reach. Caz came out of hiding and slowly crept for the stairs. Just up here, and he'll be back with Roy. Then they can make a new plan to -

'W-What?'

Trots' voice made Caz stand still. He slowly looked back with a mix of shock and confusion across his face. Trots' cadence was different. It didn't sound altered by The Shape trying to copy his speech patterns. It was him.

'What the fuck is this?' Trots stared at his reflection in pure shock. His heart raced and his stomach sank as he tried to make out what he was seeing. 'Is that me? But, how - I'm...' Caz slowly followed his voice and glanced at Trots, who was holding a door with all the strength he had. At any moment he could rip it off its hinges. He saw Caz's reflection and turned to him - eyes wide and mouth dry - gesturing to the grotesque mass. 'Caz. What - what happened to me?!' Panic was now, and rightfully, starting to set in.

'Trots? Are you - Okay, okay, just calm down.'

'Calm down? Caz, I look like I've been put through a fuckin' blender!'

'Alright, alright. I'm sorry. Fuck sake.'

A small pause lingered for Trots. He wasn't one for swearing or raising his voice. Even The Shape couldn't replicate that. A tendril moved to close the machine door. It must have been subconsciously because Trots' body and breath shivered, and his eyes squinted.

But that was good, wasn't it? He could control the mass now.

'How ye' feeling?' Caz asked, unable to take the silence.

'Better,' Trots answered with an exhausted tone. 'My mind felt like it was being pulled all over the shop.' It was a strange and painful sensation. He could compare it to being in a coma. He was aware of what was going around him, but couldn't react. His mind and body were on auto-pilot yet he couldn't focus enough to fight back until he saw his reflection. Then it was like a fog had been lifted.

'I'm sorry wee man.'

'For what?'

'I heard ya through the door. I tried getting to ya, but it wouldn't budge. Do you remember what happened?'

Trots nodded. 'Aye. It just shot through the window and latched onto my leg. It felt like someone had taken a knife and was stabbing me over and fuckin' over again. And,' he scoffed. 'Now I'm here.'

'Well, I'm not leaving ya here, pal. I'm gonna to fetch Roy. He's in the pantry.'

'What about the others?'

'Brodie's with Raffs. Poor bastard was shaken after his dive. Finlay and Douglas are looking for Gibbo in engineering, and I spoke to O'Connor. He's with Bruce and Fergus.' He'll leave out Innes. 'Of course that bastard Rennick is still kicking. Probably tucked away all nice and cosy in his office.' He took a quick glance to the stairs. 'So, you with me?'

'...Alright.'

The pair moved in silence. The only thing breaking that was either the stairs echoing with Caz's footsteps or Trots letting out a groan of pain. Both of the men knew The Shape wasn't done with him yet. Trots could control his mind, body and soul, but this thing was slowly mutating him to survive. Who knew what he'd look like by the end of it.

A part of the wall had collapsed from the tendrils. A shooting pain ran through Caz and Trots' head as they approached. 'It's trying to lure us in, Caz.'

'Just ignore it, mate. Here, help me push it back.' Caz can easily slip through the smaller space, but Trots certainly wasn't. He wedged himself halfway between the wall and used his shoulder the push. The wall behind him was used as a base for his feet. 'Come on, Trots.' It wasn't going to budge by itself.

Using all the tendrils and his shoulder, Trots could feel the wall slowly move back. Caz began to slide to the other side, giving Trots room to follow and to an area where the wall wasn't leaning as much. The Shape was stubborn. It was oddly strong for something that looked like ribbons.

'I thought you were a boxer,' Trots bantered with a smirk.

'Yeah. A boxer,' Caz retorted. 'Not a heavy weight lifter, ya prick.'

Both men suddenly burst out laughing, which must have attracted Roy who awkwardly stood at the canteen door. He had noticed Trots and began to go through the same emotions as Caz, frozen in place.

'Erm, Caz.' He got their attention, and the pair turned to him, still stifling laughs.

"I'm not saying it's lying," Eurylochus countered, taking a cautious step back. "I'm saying— how do we know it even knows where this cave is? How do we know the cave itself isn't just a myth?" His voice wavered between frustration and incredulity, clearly struggling to wrap his head around the situation.

"East!" the small creature chirped suddenly, its high pitched voice breaking the tension. With an enthusiastic wave of its paw, it pointed in a direction that everyone—even the ship's youngest sailor—knew wasn't east.

Eurylochus's exasperation peaked as he glanced between the cheerful creature and the opposite horizon, where the first rays of sunlight crept into the sky. "For the last time, that is east!" he barked, gesturing toward the rising sun. Yet, no matter how many times he tried to correct it, the creature seemed blissfully unaware—or entirely unbothered by—the concept of direction.

You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of it all. "We'll just have to trust him," you said, finally chiming in. Eurylochus turned to you, incredulous.

"Him?" he repeated, one brow arched high enough to rival the ship's sails. "You don't even know what it is, and now you're treating it like a full fledged member of the crew?"

"Well..." You hesitated, scratching the back of your neck. "I'm assuming he's a 'he.' He doesn't say much more than the same six words, and he doesn't seem to mind what we call him." You shrugged, flashing a playful grin. "Besides, who's to say he won't surprise us?"

Eurylochus muttered something under his breath—likely another grumble about the ever growing absurdity of your situation. While Polites attempted to soothe him, his voice low and conciliatory in an attempt to de escalate his growing frustration, your gaze drifted across the ship. Most of the crew remained sound asleep, their forms sprawled across hammocks or nestled against the ship's sturdy timbers. Only the night watch sailors, bleary eyed and steadfast, tended to their duties, joined by a few early risers stretching and stifling yawns.

The quiet was a welcome reprieve, a rare moment of stillness amidst the usual cacophony of voices, footsteps, and the creak of ropes once the ship came fully to life. The muted hum of the waves lapping against the hull and the gentle sway of the sea offered a soothing rhythm, a stark contrast to the chaos that inevitably followed when every crewmember was awake and moving.

Your eyes eventually settled on your brother. He was leaning on his elbows, his weight resting against the ship's railing, lost in thought. That, in itself, wasn't unusual—he often slipped into moments of quiet contemplation—but it wasn't like him to linger there silently for hours. Your brother was the type of person, much like Polites, who could stand beside you and talk your ears off about any topic under the sun.

In all your years of knowing him—which was, of course, your entire life—you could count on one hand the times you'd seen him like this: withdrawn, pensive, and unreachable. Those moments had never been his best, and while they were rare, they left an impression. You suspected there had been more such moments than you were privy to, ones he had carefully kept hidden. But now, watching him, a quiet unease settled over you. Something about this felt wrong.

Determined to bridge the gap, you decided to approach him. If he had always been there for you, it was only right that you'd be there for him too—whether or not he wanted to admit he needed someone to talk to.

"Brother," you called softly. Odysseus jumped slightly, startled, the sound of your voice breaking through the fog of his thoughts. He gave you a playful shove on the shoulder, a lighthearted reprimand for catching him off guard. A nod of his head invited you to continue. "Are you alright?"

He raised an eyebrow at your question, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Of course I am," he replied with a small chuckle, as though the answer was so self evident it hardly needed saying. But when your expression remained steady, unyielding in its concern, his smile faltered, just a touch. "Really. There's nothing you need to worry about, sister," he added, placing a hand on your shoulder—the same one he'd shoved moments earlier—in a gesture meant to reassure. But you weren't so easily convinced.

"You're never this quiet," you said, moving to lean against the railing beside him. Your gaze fixed on his, determined not to let the subject drop.

Odysseus sighed, realizing you wouldn't back down. He tried one last diversion. "I'm just thinking about home... Penelope... Telemachus." At the mention of his wife and son, his eyes softened, and his voice took on a wistful tenderness.

You reached out, rubbing his arm gently. You understood. You missed home, too. You missed the warmth of the morning sun on your face, the carefree squeals of your nephew when you "kidnapped" him from his father's arms, and the way Odysseus would chase after you, his voice full of mock alarm. He always feared you'd drop Telemachus—even though it had only happened once, and he'd never let you forget it. Penelope would stand to the side, laughing at the sight, her smile as radiant as the day. You even missed the simple rustling of leaves in the trees when the wind danced through them.

Despite your shared longing, you couldn't shake the feeling that something else weighed on him. "That isn't the only reason, is it?" you asked gently.

He stayed silent, his gaze slipping away from yours. The pause was telling, and you knew he'd finally given up trying to distract you.

"Was it something Athena said? On the island?"

"...Yes." His gaze dropped to the ocean, its rhythmic rise and fall mirroring the unease he tried to suppress. He was embarrassed, not because of the warning itself but because he didn't want you to think he was taking something so "insignificant" too seriously. Yet he knew that if he didn't tell you, you'd find out anyway. It was a childish fear, really—he trusted you to respect his boundaries if he asked. But still...

"What did she tell you?" you pressed, your voice gentle but insistent.

He drew in a steadying breath, summoning the courage to speak. "She gave me a warning," he admitted at last.

"A warning?" Your eyes narrowed, suspicion sparking in your gaze. "What did you do?"

Odysseus raised his hands defensively, as though fending off an accusation. "Nothing! She just—she doesn't want me falling behind, that's all."

"Falling behind?" you echoed, tilting your head. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," he said with a weary sigh, "that I started to lose focus on what's important and need to get back on track."

"Is that why you're so pensive? You're trying to figure out how to make it up to her?"

"You could say that," he replied, his tone laced with resignation. But then, as if flipping a switch, he draped an arm around your shoulders in a comforting side hug and gave you a soft smile. "Enough about me and my dilemmas. How are you feeling?"

A small giggle escaped your lips as he gently swayed you both from side to side—a silly gesture he knew would lift your spirits, if only for a moment. "I'm better. The little guy definitely helped," you said, gesturing toward your peculiar companion.

Odysseus followed your gaze toward Polites and Eurylochus, still locked in their animated debate over the lotus eater. He squinted, his expression skeptical. "Its beady eyes disturb me."

You couldn't help but laugh at his dry remark. The two of you continued talking, your conversation weaving between lighthearted banter and thoughtful musings. Eventually, Polites and Eurylochus joined in, their debate unresolved but their spirits lively.

By the time the ship docked on a pristine beach, a massive cave loomed not far from the shore. You exchanged a knowing glance with Odysseus. It seemed the little creature was right after all. You made a mental note to rub it in Eurylochus's face later.

──────👁️──────

Odysseus decided that only a handful of his men—including you, Eurylochus, and Polites—would accompany him into the cave to gather as much food as possible. The rest of the crew would remain by the ships, just in case.

With the small lotus eater perched on your shoulder and your brother by your side, you began the trek toward the cave's dark, yawning mouth.

As you drew closer, the low, muffled bleating of sheep reached your ears, growing louder with every step. Their white, fluffy coats stood out even in the dim light filtering through the cave's entrance.

Once you were close enough, your brother nocked an arrow, the motion smooth and practiced, and loosed it toward one of the sheep. The creature fell with a soft thud. "Over here!" he called, waving to the rest of the group, who weren't far behind.

When you finally entered the cave, its sheer size was overwhelming. The cavernous space seemed endless, its ceiling so high that three ships stacked atop one another wouldn't come close to reaching it. The air inside was cool and damp, the chill brushing against your skin.

The little lotus eater on your shoulder nuzzled closer, seeking comfort in your neck, your hair, and the folds of your clothing. You couldn't tell if it was the cold or fear that made it cling to you so tightly.

The smell of damp earth and mildew was strong, reinforced by the soft, rhythmic sound of water droplets falling from the ceiling and splashing into shallow puddles. You tried to step carefully, avoiding the slick patches as best you could.

With the help of a few torches lit by the men, the cave's contents came into view. Piles of sheep milled about, their coats almost glowing in the flickering light. Surrounding them were heaps of fruits and vegetables stacked neatly, as though someone—or something—had carefully collected them.

You couldn't help but wonder why the lotus eaters hadn't taken advantage of such an abundant supply of food. Perhaps they were afraid of the dark? The thought lingered in your mind as you took in the strange and bountiful scene before you.

"Look at all this food! And all these sheep!" Polites exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I can't believe this cave is just sitting here, waiting for us."

Eurylocus nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "I've got to hand it to you three—this is quite the haul. There's enough here to feed the entire fleet for weeks."

You opened your mouth to respond, ready to suggest that perhaps someone owed an apology to the small creature on your shoulder. But before you could get the words out, your brother spoke up.

"It's almost too perfect," Odysseus said, his tone thoughtful as his gaze swept across the cavern. "Why would the lotus eaters ignore all of this? It doesn't make sense."

The question lingered in all your minds—why would the lotus eaters abandon such a treasure trove? Perhaps it was your instincts trying to rationalize the unease gnawing at the back of your thoughts, searching for an excuse to believe this wasn't a trap.

"Who are you?"

The silence was shattered by a voice that seemed to come from the very stone itself. It was loud, deep, and inhuman, reverberating through the walls of the cavern like the growl of an ancient beast. The sound sent a chill down your spine, each echo amplifying the sheer terror it carried.

You couldn't pinpoint its source—its resonance made it seem as if it came from everywhere at once—but logic pointed to the one place the torchlight couldn't reach: the heart of the cave, cloaked in impenetrable darkness.

The fear of the unknown churned within you, gripping your chest with icy fingers. Whatever lay in the shadows, it was waiting—and now it knew you were there.

For a few agonizing seconds that felt like an eternity, no one moved. No one even dared to breathe. All eyes turned to your captain, silently pleading for guidance, for a decision, for anything to break the oppressive weight of the moment.

Odysseus, ever quick to act under pressure, stepped forward with an idea. Was it the wisest plan? Perhaps not. But in that moment, it felt like the only option.

"Hello there," he called out, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "We're just travelers."

He paused, waiting for a response, but none came. The silence hung heavy, the echoes of his words swallowed by the cavern's endless depths.

"...We come in peace," he added, his tone firm yet placating, as if trying to soothe whatever unseen force had addressed you.

"You killed my sheep."

The looming voice responded, ignoring Odysseus's words entirely—perhaps not even registering them. This time, the voice was louder, its menacing tone reverberating through the cavern like a physical force. Worse yet, it was closer.

From the shadows emerged a creature unlike anything you had ever seen. It towered over you, several feet tall—though not quite high enough to touch the cavern's ceiling, it was massive enough to crush you effortlessly under its foot.

As it drew nearer, it moved on all fours, though you were certain it could stand upright if it wished. It seemed to slink closer deliberately, a calculated effort to intimidate, or perhaps to take you all in more easily.

And then there was its eye. A single, blood-red orb fixed directly on you, unblinking, unwavering. It bore into you with such intensity that it left you rooted in place, unable to think or react. Fear coursed through your veins like ice, rendering you powerless to process what was happening.

You had entered the home of a cyclops.

Now, at last, you understood why the lotus eaters wouldn't dare set foot in this cave.

"My favorite sheep," it growled, its voice dripping with fury.

"What gives you the right to cause such harm?" the cyclops thundered, its voice echoing off the cavern walls like the rumble of a distant storm. "Don't you know that the pain you sow is the pain you rеap?"

The massive creature crept closer, its hulking form casting shadows that danced wildly in the flickering torchlight. Its mouth, a grotesque vertical slit reminiscent of a gaping Venus flytrap, opened and closed with a sickening precision as it spoke. Each word dripped with malice, its jagged teeth gleaming in the dim light.

It snarled, its single, blood-red eye glaring at you with a hatred so fierce it made your stomach churn. "You came into my home, took what was mine, and thought you'd leave unscathed?"

The cyclops advanced again, its sheer size making the ground tremble with every step. "Your blood will stain this ground. Your lives are now mine to do with as I please."

Its gaze swept over the group, finally settling back on you. "Before I'm done, you will learn that it's not so fun to take"

As it loomed ever closer, the air seemed to grow colder, heavier, as if the very cave was conspiring to seal your fate. The creature's foul breath wafted toward you, a rancid mix of decay and rot, making your stomach churn even more violently. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but fear held you rooted in place. "A trade, you see? I'll take from you like you took from me"

Odysseus, fully grasping the gravity of the situation, racked his mind for a solution, searching desperately for the right words to defuse the growing danger. Finally, he stepped forward, placing himself squarely in the cyclops's line of sight, determined to draw its attention away from the rest of you.

"There's been a misunderstanding," he began, his voice calm but firm. "We didn't come here to steal. We were simply looking for something to eat and didn't realize these sheep and fruits belonged to anyone."

The cyclops's single, blood-red eye shifted, locking onto your brother with an unsettling intensity. It seemed to focus entirely on him now, though the tension in the air thickened as the creature processed his words.

It didn't look pleased—especially at Odysseus's casual reference to its sheep as mere food. But then again, it was hard to discern any emotion from its massive, inhuman face.

"But now I see we've caused some damage," Odysseus said, his tone steady, though his eyes darted subtly as he formulated his plan. "I'd like to propose a deal."

Slowly, he reached behind his back, keeping his movements deliberate and out of the cyclops's direct sight. From your vantage point, you caught a glimpse of him slipping a small, familiar handful of seeds into his canteen that he had saved from when you visited the previous island.

He raised the canteen for the cyclops to see, tilting it just enough to swirl the contents, allowing the seeds to mix thoroughly with the liquid inside. The cyclops leaned its massive head to the side, its single eye narrowing as it inspected the unfamiliar object.

"If you let us leave unharmed," Odysseus continued, his voice calm and persuasive, "you can have the world's best tasting wine."

"Wine?" The cyclops's pupil dilated, and its voice softened, a hint of excitement creeping into its tone. You guessed it was something the creature had never tried before—or perhaps had only tasted on rare occasions.

"The best there is!" Odysseus declared, his voice steady and persuasive. "Just one sip, and you'll understand. A wine so fresh, so rich in flavor, it'll make you never crave human flesh again."

The cyclops leaned forward, resting one massive hand on the ground. At first, Odysseus assumed it was waiting for the canteen, but as the creature extended its hand palm-up, it became clear it wanted him to step onto it.

Odysseus hesitated, his legs wavering slightly as he complied. You instinctively moved forward, ready to pull him back, but Eurylochus stopped you with a firm grip. "Trust him," he murmured, his voice low but certain.

As the cyclops lifted Odysseus into the air, standing fully upright, the scene became even more surreal. The creature's massive, blood-red eye stared directly into your brother's, its breath hot and heavy. Despite the obvious danger, Odysseus's voice remained as steady as he could manage.

"Then we shall be on our way—no blood spilled, no harm done. A simple trade: a gift from you, and a gift from me."

The cyclops opened its gaping mouth expectantly. The entire crew held their breath, the air in the cave thick with tension. Odysseus, understanding the unspoken request, carefully opened the canteen with a soft pop and poured its contents into the cyclops's mouth.

The cavern filled with the sound of the creature gulping down the wine, the noise echoing eerily off the walls. The cyclops sighed in delight, its massive frame visibly relaxing as it gently placed Odysseus back on the ground—gently, for something so enormous.

"I'd like to thank you, stranger," it rumbled. "What's your name?"

Odysseus, believing he had defused the situation, gave a small bow. "My name is Nobody."

"Nobody," the cyclops repeated, its voice slow and deliberate, resonating with a deep, unsettling undertone. "For your gift, I have one to reply."

Odysseus smiled faintly. "I'm glad we see eye to eye."

"Yes," the cyclops growled, its tone darkening in an instant, "because you shall be the final one to die."

The blood drained from Odysseus's face, the weight of the cyclops's words hitting him like a punch to the gut.

"What?" he whispered, his tone trembling, his earlier confidence shattered.

The cyclops raised itself higher, towering to its full height, its massive arms lifting above its head as it prepared to slam them down with devastating force.