#transformers earthspark mandroid

I think about this one scene a lot where we see Mandroid doing his thing, around the time of the Battle of the Bay. He is just some guy doing his job, just going about his day. The next minute it’s chaos. Can you imagine it? The building you think you’re safe in is being blown apart around you, your colleagues and friends are screaming, there’s dust, smoke and fire, it’s hot, ash is burning your face and lungs. The walls that once kept you safe now trap you. In whatever small amount of time it takes for that to happen, I could picture Mandroid trying to understand what just happened - He’s a military man so of course he’s trained for scenarios like this. I could imagine him, being that hero type he saw himself as, trying to save anyone he could find alive nearby. It doesn’t matter what’s happened, just find the goddamn exit…

And then, there’s another strike. Nobody in the facility knows it’s friendly fire yet. It’s just happening. Chaos is just happening and it’s then when I picture the real trauma begins. Mandroid watches as the person he tries to save is knocked out of the way, maybe just a few feet but the thick dust, noise, and debris just covers everything like a smog. Mandroid is still trying to find his way out, trying to find the person he tried to save, he’s still trying to get out and that’s when it happens. That’s when he’s pinned by concrete and scaffolding, pinned by his arm. The absolute horror of it, feeling the bones snap as your legs give out from the pain. Screaming is useless, nobody can hear. I picture the thoughts he has in his mind at that moment, what were his last memories? Was it at that moment that the normal, good guy died? He doesn’t get the luxury of unconsciousness yet, though. As he’s fighting to pry himself free with whatever ebbs of energy he has left, he looks to his right and sees a sliver of light. A way out was right there all along… Now he’s powerless to reach it. And as the smog clears enough that he can see outside, he sees the ones behind it all. The Transformers. He sees the Autobots.

With the rubble shifting, imagine in that scene where he’s just left there to die, he’s alone and the screams of his colleagues are all gone. They’re all buried. Warm blood is starting to soak his shirt and lab coat. The only sound he can hear clearly is the thudding of his heart. There’s a ringing sound, everything is fading, and he starts to deliriously hallucinate in what he doesn’t know are his final moments. At least he can’t see the state of his arm, or what his Arachnamechs have to do to it in order to free him from the rubble. He’s almost dead by the time they get to him.

This is the scene I picture and I so wish something like it had been shown, so we could’ve had an understanding of what was behind his hatred. If we’d been able to glimpse the pain and terror he felt then, maybe there would’ve been hope for his character and it would’ve added so much depth, the human factor… I felt like that’s what was missing and all the greatest villains I’ve ever known about had a human side first, something for the audience to mull over and contemplate. Of course, we didn’t get this in the show, we just get Mandroid venting - with very little in the way of depth or reflection for how the loss of his arm truly impacted his life. We only see the cold, detached pragmatism of a broken mind, trying to fix ongoing problems - problems that go unaddressed and amount to violence that is raw, deeply rooted and barely explained. Before all of this though, Mandroid was just a regular human. He was someone’s son, someone’s relative and we know he was Alex’s friend. I just wish it could’ve been explored further.

Tagging @monocle-teacup as I thought you might enjoy this

And @turtwap as Sky belongs to Turtwap

—

Somehow, the sky itself seemed to reflect the turbulence and strife below that was brewing beneath it. Storm clouds rolled in like towering cathedrals, topped with unseen storms that crashed down like angry waves. There was an unnatural crimson glow emanating around the spire that had been summoned up from the Earth, like a needle of hatred piercing the night, flaring up for all to see. It’s base was beautiful, though. Crystalline Energon, as clear as ice and hard as diamond supported the base and glowed more softly. Here, the Earth’s natural Energon sink was being siphoned, stolen… By a toxic, parasitic thing that moved like a shadow, taking good hearts and minds with it into darkness. Fear. Hatred. Misunderstanding. Miscommunication. Subversion…. Atop the spire, lurked yet another victim. Here, what remained of a once brilliant man surveyed the horizon, waiting for something. Everything was just right, no missteps this time, no miscalculations. In having lost most of his human form, ‘Mandroid’ was now more of a weapon and more capable than ever before.

Sometimes, his mind wandered though. He saw his old life in those moments of reflection and in this isolated state he had never felt pain like it. He had no other human to turn to, so he turned to the memories he had instead. He had to have something to lean on, a reminder of *why* he was doing all of this. Why the Cybertronian race had to go, be eradicated, so that everyone on Earth, every human, every being, could finally be safe.

Would they ever *really* be safe though? Had people themselves ever lived without war?

Mandroid’s mind was wandering again. He quickly distracted himself. He thought about when he had been the happiest. All of the memories of his life felt sharper than ever. His days at school, his travels abroad, his parents…

No. He was not going to start thinking about his parents right now. Somehow, the thought of them ever finding out about any of this was more terrifying than him not completing his mission. In distraction, Mandroid looked up, through the top window in the weird, crab-like form he now inhabited, just his head, neck and spine. He was reduced to form of a snake, coiled inside a metal cage. His view on the world outside, much like his views in general, reduced to tiny windows and glaring blind spots.

It was raining, so he couldn’t even see that well through the top window, but still he lingered there. Mandroid had always loved the rain, now he couldn’t even feel it anymore. He leaned the side of his head against the inside of the metallic prison that was now his permanent enclosure. He was so depressed that it felt like hell was real. Mandroid’s mind had been made up though. His weapon would be perfect. Not only would it end all Cybertronian life, but also his life as well. Every Energon-based being. He looked forward to it.

The rain soon passed and Mandroid decided to go back to the stone chair that placed him directly next to his weapon. There he would remain, guarding it like a spider guarding a nesting chamber. This weapon was the most precious thing to him, because it would ensure a final solution on a scale like no human had ever known. After tonight, not a single Cybertronian would remain online. No amount of force could stop it.

Something caught the cyborg’s attention. What was that? Had someone dared to show up and fight him? Idly, he watched. Let them come. He had all the means in the world to take on even the heaviest hitting Cybertronian. He watched a pearlescent form close in, looking rather like a human machine. Was it a plane? It was eerie though, unlike any plane he’d ever scene. The colours weren’t of this world, the form was too perfect… Then, the plane veered, lowering like a bird as the familiar sound of a T-cog echoed, signalling the visitor’s true form. A Cybertronian. Mandroid watched through his main window as the being stood upright, wings folding back, then laying flat, signalling her mood. There was no denying it, this alien, this Cybertronian, was beautiful. As a roboticist, Mandroid had always appreciated machinery and engineering. The Cybertronians were simply unmatched. He knew the threat their near-perfect forms presented, their speed, size, firepower and strength, not to mention their intelligence. He *knew* that. What chance did humanity stand against them?

The femme approached and despite her height and strong build, she was incredibly elegant and commanding. Her optics shone a rare shade of azure blue, her face was pearlescent like the rest of her. When she took a step, the ground trembled. She looked capable and fearless, like a lioness. Mandroid felt the threat, and as a human by now all he’d have been able to do was run away. In this warped form though, finally he was capable too.

Whilst Sky represented beauty in all it’s forms, the same could hardly be said of Mandroid. When she looked upon him, having perhaps never seen what he looked like before all of this, now all that was human about him was his face. Even then, not even his face had been spared the ravages of what had been done to the rest of him. His once thick, ebony hair was now mostly gone. His once tanned skin, now ashen grey. Even his eyes were robotic, glaring red from under his hairless brows. The only thing about them that resembled anything human was their shape. The loss of his body and unnatural state of his being had also stressed what remained of him so much that he looked like he’d aged prematurely as well. This man looked like he was just waiting to die.

Sky kept her distance, just close enough that they could converse. Their gazes were locked, fists clenched. Neither spoke for a few moments, but then Sky went first.

“…. Nice view you’ve got all to yourself up here, huh. ‘Mandroid’…”

“It will be even nicer, when you and your’s are out of the picture.” Snarled the scientist, his four claw-like hands gripping the sides of the stone chair. His voice sounded weathered, eerie-calm and slightly mechanised.

“Yeah, about all that…” Sky began, as her expression turned stonier. She took another step, saw Mandroid react, the laser in his chest just ever so slightly illuminating, but she was careful and measured with her body language.

“Have you ever thought about that, I mean really thought about it? So, you get rid of all Cybertronians and then what? Everyone lives happily ever after? Mandroid, I’ve studied your history. Humans have had war as long as there’s been humans. With us gone, it isn’t the war that’s gone, is it?”

Mandroid looked like he was thinking about that. He *had* thought about it. She was right. And he didn’t want her to be, but she was. As a scientist, the truth was all that mattered.

“Well played, alien. Of course you’ve studied us, insofar as you now think you understand us. War is inevitable, but human wars are among *humans*. Your species present a threat we’ve never faced before and that is why you must all die. Tonight.”

Sky listened, but little sense was being made aside from the obvious.

“Oh yeah? So, I take it that all humans just have atomic weapons lying around waiting to throw at one another, huh? You guys make many devastating weapons. You use devastating tactics where the weapon is just the idea itself, spreading through every person. Don’t you think that’s sad? *Don’t you think that’s wrong*?”

Mandroid’s face said it all. He pursed his lips, blinked and his gaze shifted to the side for a moment, in contemplation. He stood up, his four arms making him look almost lovecraftian, like a dark entity from another dimension.

“You know what I think is wrong, alien? That you have the audacity to judge the actions of *my* species when you can’t even show up here with a better example to speak of. You bring your war here, and then preach about morality - Yet you destroyed your own world. Your entitlement brings you here, not your concern for those who already reside here.”

Sky sighed heavily, realising that every effort for conversation was more like a battle of egos now. She nodded, taking a moment to let things cool down. He was clearly spoiling for a fight, amped up on testosterone and being pushed the edge of living death as he was… Nobody was hearing anyone.

“You’re *right*. It sounds like our species have more in common than we both think.”

There was a moment then that felt strange, like the situation this was suddenly didn’t exist anymore. Mandroid had gotten closer, perhaps out of curiosity, or anger or that he just wanted to see her expression as he hurt her, it was hard to tell. His expression gave little away, but he was cautious, poised for a fight like a wild animal. The two of them began to circle, he had started it with his circling of her. She didn’t like that and wanted to counter it, yet despite it all the circle wasn’t growing larger, it was growing *smaller*. He never took his gaze from her, except to dart to the other windows if necessary, and he watched her body language, watched her wings rise up, or lay back.

There were no words, but there was a bizarre feeling of familiarity. Mandroid didn’t like it. He didn’t like unknowns. All his life, his world had consisted of what made sense, what worked and was was objectively true. Yet, there was a part of him that still appreciated the *unknown* - A feeling he’d also lived with all his life. Right now, that feeling was the strongest one he had. Distracted, Mandroid saw Sky’s arm move and he reacted as such. Sky had just reached out with her palm up, a sign of peace - He misinterpreted it and out of fear he lashed out. A lot happened at once, but every conceivable thing he could’ve done to get Sky away from him, he did not do. He didn’t use his laser. He didn’t use his extra arms. He looked shocked from his own inaction, and he felt himself being pinned against the cold stone cliff near the big chair.

Sky felt all his hands grab at her though, at her arms. He was strong, but it was the laser she was worried about. She pinned him with just enough force to hold him still, but not enough to crack the glass windows, even though it would’ve been too easy this close up.

Mandroid also realised he was now incredibly vulnerable. He relied on the oxygenated perfluorcarbons to stay alive. Inside the metallic body he inhabited, this strange mist was all that was keeping him alive. If any of his windows were broken, he’d quickly die as he was no longer equipped with human lungs in order to breathe the normal air outside. He became still, hearing his glass window creaking on her arm. They were almost face to face now, and neither of them could stop looking at the other. This wasn’t supposed to be how it went. Both of them were wondering why neither had acted and both of them felt a sense of ‘…Have we met before?’

Sky tried to gather her senses, tried to shake off whatever this lapse was. She had her chance to kill this pitiful creature, and yet she could not. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and calm, like a whisper. Like it was meant just for him.

“What’s your name? Your real name, I mean. If this is my last night on Earth, I’d prefer to at least know the name of the one who attempts to kill me.”

“It’s Victor.”

“…Victor. ‘Course it is. I’m Sky.”

Whilst Vic said nothing, his expression suggested that he found her name extremely fitting for her.

“Why can’t we find a different way, Victor? We could all learn from this.”

“All things that live, fight to survive. All things that survive, fight to live. What you ask cannot be in this universe. Peace is fleeting, but brutality is the way of things, Sky. The strong survive and if they can help it, the strong uphold the weak.”

Sky sighed pointedly, his words seemed ironic given the situation. A little more force and that damn window would shatter and he’d be out cold in 10 seconds and dead in a few minutes.

“Strength is a great responsibility, because sometimes it’s hard to know how best to use it for good. We both want to survive and we both fight to survive, but why do we *need* to fight? There is enough here for all, and there is so much that we Cybertronians could do for you.”

“If you can’t use your strength to destroy me, Sky, should you really be talking about how best to use it? Hahaha” His laugh was empty, hollow sounding and mirthless. She was getting nowhere with him. It was pitiful watching him, there was no joy in that laugh. He was simply going to do what he was going to do.

The two of them held each other’s gaze a little longer. That feeling of wanting to kill, harm or maim now strangely gone. The moment was weird, intimate somehow and had happened out of nowhere. Vic was so shocked that he couldn’t think of the best thing to do at first. He saw that Sky was growing frustrated, and the next thing he felt was the result of her frustration. He was thrown aside, although not enough to harm him, or shatter any of his windows despite that they all creaked when he hit the ground.

When he looked back, he saw her standing over him, gun pointed and flaring bright blue. He just stared right at her, watched her falter. He saw her mouth the word ‘fuck’.

He wanted her to fire at him.

“What are you waiting for, Sky? Do what you do best and destroy me. It’s the only chance you’re ever going to get. Think carefully. If you make the wrong choice, how will the rest of the tribe think of you then?” Victor hissed with vitriol and spite that was inhuman. He truly was a lost cause. Or was he? It was his eyes. Sky looked at him again, but she couldn’t kill him. She couldn’t take his life whilst looking at him, even though he was a monster, a creature…. Flesh and mechanics melded together on some other world, he himself was now part alien. Victor was now part of the very thing he despised. He had no one. He related to no one. Death was the kindest thing for him, but Sky lowered her gun. She turned away to leave, no more words to say. Victor was pushing himself to his feet as he heard her transform, and of course he watched her until she had gone. He could still hear her engines long after he’d lost sight of her. Even though every fibre of what was left of him strained under the weight of his thoughts, he wished she’d stayed a bit longer. He wished she’d been the one to send him on his way out of this world so that he didn’t have to be the one to do what he now knew he had to do. Why didn’t she stop him? *Why*? It made no sense. What he felt now, made no sense. Yet, here he was basking in it. With the spire almost fully charged, soon the torment of feeling would be over and now, it was inevitable.

Be aware this story is dark and is to do with loss and the painful realities of real life that we have to deal with. It’s not strictly canon either. You’ve been warned.

18 + ⚠️ heavy/dark and gritty psychological themes and adult references/Do not read if these themes are triggering⚠️

Alex, Dot, Robbie and Mo Malto belongs to the Transformers EarthSpark franchise, as does Dr Meridian

Vic (C) me

————- ————-

Alex Malto has a lot to be happy about in life. He has a loving wife and family, everyone’s healthy and happy, or so he says regarding the latter. He has a career he’s worked hard for, a job he’s only despised occasionally or discreetly, the same as any other middle-class family trying, or pretending, to get by. He has some nice things, stability, and unlike many of his acquaintances, he isn’t secretly taking antidepressants. He doesn’t show off his mid-life worries and qualms online, or in drawn out, public social-media posts like everyone else he knows. Alex Malto is, more or less, a happy man, a reliable and doting father, and horrifically cheerful. Maybe it’s age, or years of sitting under the ‘live, laugh, love’ sign on the living room wall. Personally, I always thought it was because he just didn’t want to deal with the consequences of speaking his mind.

Alex Malto had a personality once. I don’t know what happened to it, but as time goes by, so it is that I am a stranger to him, but he is, or was, my greatest friend, because of our differences and not in spite of them.

What happened to you, Alex?

-

“Honey, remember that time.. Oh my god! I can’t.. I can’t even say it without laughing…” Dot began heartily, a hand over her mouth as she settled back into the dining room chair. Robbie and Mo, equally amused, knew the exact story. They looked expectantly from their mom Dot, to their dad, Alex. It seemed at least, he might be able to finish the story. He was the only one at the table *not* laughing like he was going to break a rib. He’d worked hard to make it so that things were back to some semblance of normality again, and now he was numb to it.

There was good reason for why his smile was empty. Privately, Alex hadn’t even heard what she’d said. Dot’s voice sometimes became like background noise to him, even though he never, ever let on about it. Sometimes the ones we love the most annoy us, but that’s ok. They don’t know the private hell of your inner world, or the weight of what you keep to yourself, in order to keep the ship steady. They don’t know the half of it, do they Alex?

—

“Hahaha! I know *that* story! Dad, you know it too right, c’mon… tell us!” Mo squeaked eagerly, having not been able to manage a bite of her food, as she was laughing so much.

Alex felt his head begin to buzz, he wasn’t even paying attention, despite the ever-present smile on his face, the glazed over look in his eyes was lost on them. It was the sort of smile expected of him, the smile that held back decade’s worth of unsaid things, unspoken worries and bridled, seething anger that never, ever got out but continuously clawed the walls down that he somehow managed to keep up every day.

“Hmm? Silly me, I was miles away, sweetie. I thought you mentioned…Oh, a story?” Alex enquired, whilst strategically making a point of eating so he didn’t have to talk as much.

Naturally, the more he smiled, the more everyone continued chatting until dinner was over. Alex had worried if Dot had noticed his slip up, but she hadn’t. Ever since GHOST, Vic and all of that part of their life had been left behind, there had been no worries. There had been nothing much of anything else, either. Every day was a predictable, comfortable continuation of the prior. Days turned to weeks, then to months. The chores were done, the animals tended, daily stresses of the usual nature. All was as it had been.

Or, was it?

Alex couldn’t recall how much time had passed since he’d had a day to himself or a moment to actually process everything that had happened to him and his family. Worst of all, he’d never had a proper opportunity to actually sort this out either. In the pouring rain, before the sun had barely popped up on the horizon, Alex found comfort in being battered awake by the elements outdoors. There, he could scream out his inner frustration, whilst his family slept in blissful ignorance. Nobody asked him how he really was anymore. Not a single one of his friends felt like anything other than, how would the kids put it, he wondered, ‘Dad’s friends are all NPC’s’.

As he drove his tractor out across the foggy acres, he found himself laughing, a strained sort of sound. They were just kids, but they were spot-on about that observation of their dad’s social life.

-

Victor Meridian is not a happy man. When we first met, we didn’t like each other, but at least he had things other than booze and sex on his mind. Victor was always distant and aloof, until I understood why he was like that. It’s communication, he just always found it difficult. More so after the war. Maybe I’m like that too. All I know how to do is keep my feelings pent up. Victor always saw things as they truly were, objectively.

We would call ourselves ‘the pretenders’, back in the day. To me it was just a joke. I was always the only one laughing, when I look back. I never really knew what he meant, until years later. There was a point in my life when I didn’t realise how long I had been pretending all along. Long after Victor and I had last seen each other, long after our life paths diverged, long after the adolescent jokes of one day being each other’s neighbours, I realised I was a father failing to keep up with his family’s changing and growing needs. When I realised I couldn’t keep them safe, or when I realised that being with Dot had made me co-dependent. Victor warned me one time, and I didn’t listen. I felt like a teenager swept upon the riptide of love, and everything that comes with it tossed me over the peak of the wave with 0 warning.

Victor Meridian is not a happy man, but he did what he wanted to do with his life. Victor is a complicated man and I don’t know if I pity him or envy him. Both, probably.

-

It’s amazing what you can do with a little strategy and planning, and how you become more efficient at small acts of deception when everyone *thinks you’re happy*, when they have no reason to suspect otherwise.

Alex had given at least a week’s notice about meeting with his old friend David, but Dot wasn’t really listening. As Alex could recall, the last time she’d met David, Dot had forgotten his name and confused him as being someone else. He works in tech and likes to offload on Alex because Alex is too polite to say anything.

And so, tonight Alex will be ‘meeting up with David.’ Dot finds no reason to say anything other than ‘Oh, good luck with that!’ as she waves her husband off.

There are times in life where you just get in the car and drive. It’s good for the mind, out there on the road. There’s something about watching the road-markings go by, maybe you even count them, like the years of life, flying by. Alex certainly did that. Whether going to, or from work, or outings with his family, there were moments of time that probably stretched into days and weeks, where he’d counted the road markings as they slipped out of sight. Tonight was no different.

A suitable area was chosen at random this far out. He pulled up in an old lay-by. It wasn’t so far away that it had escaped use altogether, Alex noted with disgust as he saw numerous signs of human activity. What looked like a used condom in some late stage decay lay discarded nearby. The swaying grasses stretching out ahead bridged the gap between industry and countryside, like parallel worlds. A fitting place for a man like Alex Malto this evening. With the engine off, the interior of the car was silent at last, like a space capsule. Alex looked around, feeling some amount of guilt that the rest of his family were unaware. The last time he’d mentioned Vic it had started a row with Dot that spanned an entire week. He just couldn’t talk to her about it. It wasn’t fair. He’d been there for her, but she just wasn’t hearing him when he talked about the Mandroid Saga. He was never going to be anything other than a psychopath to her. Once Alex had compared it to her friendship with Megatron. That didn’t end well.

Alex wasn’t meeting with David. Truth be told, David had only crossed his mind at all because he was the perfect excuse for being able to have an evening to himself. He didn’t even intend to stay here that long, but he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d spent months rebuilding his life, as well as that of his kid’s and wife. Victor had shaken the foundation of his life in ways he had never thought possible and for over a year, Alex had been denied a chance to find out *why*. He’d been patient, so patient. Determinedly, he took out his phone and called a number. Vic’s number. There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation. He put the speaker on, waiting with baited breath as the call rang out, making the seconds feels like minutes.

“…C’mon pick up the damn phone.”

Alex was starting to doubt his resolve. He wondered if this had all been a stupid waste of time. Victor surely had nothing better to be doing in the basement of GHOST, or wherever it was he called his haunt these days. He surely had his phone in hand, right at this moment, wilfully choosing to ignore it.

Alex was about to give up, when he heard something. The line connected, seconds passed. Neither spoke, but each knew exactly what they wanted to say.

“Didn’t think you’d answer, Vic.”

“…What do you want?”

“I wanna talk. In person.”

“Look whose finally grown a pair.”

“Do you want to or not?

“Since last we spoke, it’s all I have thought about. Been a fucking minute since then, hasn’t it.”

“Where are you? Can you use the Space Bridge? If you can’t right now, fine. Whatever. but we need to meet-“

“Send me your coordinates. I’m at the Autobot base-“

“-WHAT? How? when?? Tell me everything”

“Are you sure you want to know, Alex? Why get involved? Didn’t work out so well the last time, did it.”

“You’re gonna tell me everything and we’re gonna sort this shit out, however we have to. What happened to you? Why did you hurt me, my family…*Why didn’t we just talk, when we had the chance to, before all of this.* It’s…driving me insane. I’ve had to rebuild my life from where you left it torn down. We’ve tried to move on, but not all of us have. I haven’t. I’m in a limbo here that I think only you could understand. I should know. I put you there. I have to live with that part.”

As Alex’s words found their way through gritted teeth, there was a long silence that hung in the space between them and the other man’s cold, calm, exhaustive reply.

Very much a work in progress, but really happy with how this turned out. It was inspired by an rp I’m doing with a friend. Lena made Victor angry, he’s only just out of surgery after donating parts to save his Cybertronian partner’s life.

While he’s not one for lowering himself to hurt anyone weaker than himself, he still absolutely totalled his computer and some equipment in his lab. Here’s the rp excerpt below;

Enjoy~

Vic (C) me.

———

Lena looked washed out, and stressed as she stormed down to the med-bay, her heels echoing after like the frantic beating of a stricken bird’s wings. With her pen clutched in her fist, her jaw clenched, she felt her anger rising and she tried to imagine what was going to happen before it did. Victor would be lucky if he made it through the next half hour without getting a slap or *worse*.

When Lena got to the med-bay, she stormed the doors with the ferocity of a wild-cat, and her gaze fell immediately upon the ridiculous sight before her. Sky’s unmoving body exactly where it had lain for probably 10 days or so by now. Victor however, was nowhere to be seen. He’d been here, though. Lena closed in on the berth, like a wasp circling food. She saw the IV bags, various pain medications on the table nearby. Had he gone back to the lab? He better had. Lena scoffed to herself at the thought of him limping around in his half-dead state and it took the edge off of her frustration at not getting to yell at him while he was still in bed.

Lena didn’t hang around. She headed straight for the lab, convinced that he’d be there.

—-

Victor was not at the lab. He knew that’s where Lena would find him, and he knew that she’d find out what he’d done, sooner or later. As soon as he felt able enough, he’d gone to his room. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel as terrible as he’d expected, perhaps it was the intrinsic healing factor in his blood, or was it something else? He’d noticed that he felt unusual since he’d woken up, a strange mix of nervousness and nausea that came in waves. The pain wasn’t terrible, either. Vic wanted some proper rest and to avoid everyone for a while, he just didn’t want to be fussed and he didn’t feel like talking. He just wanted to get showered and shaved and feel less like the greasy mess he was. Every now and then, he’d move too quickly and feel a weird twinge deep in his chest, or feel his heart pound for seemingly no reason. It wasn’t scary, but it did make him feel anxious. A nice shave seemed to take the edge off, but it didn’t quieten the noise in his head. He tried not to think about Sky, because it was starting to really get to him. The weight of failure was crushing. What if the surgery had just made her condition worse? What if she died? His hands were shaking, and he swore as the razor slipped, a thin streak of purple blood just under his jaw. The pain was sweet, though. It instantly took his mind off of Sky.

Feeling better now that he was clean, Vic went to roll a smoke and get a coffee. He heard his phone ping several times, heard it buzz as he ignored the calls. Fuck Lena. He would deal with her when he felt like it. As time was wearing on, and he was losing the will to live, he was starting to become increasingly despondent. He didn’t care about his job anymore. What was the point of living if only to be used, abused and always chasing forgiveness? He hadn’t seen the Terrans, or Alex, in months. Marc and May’s jobs seemed as precarious as Vic’s life was here, at any moment the rug might be pulled from under them all. He wondered, did they too begrudge him? Was he a burden on them, like he was on everyone else who got close to him? He contemplated it all in absolute silence. Whilst he smoked, he found himself hunting down old pictures of himself. He only had a few. Some pics of him as a kid, and as a young adult. He wore a smile in every photo. There were none of him as an adult, aside from a single military photo - but he blended in, along with other men whose faces all wore the same hard expression. Many of them were dead now. Some of them had been his close friends. He hated how wasted his best years had been, despite his intellect and potential. He really hadn’t done anything he’d wanted to do, except play the part because it was expected of him. He did it more to hide the fact he was afraid. How could he be the hero he’d always wanted to be seen as, if he was always scared? He always felt out of his depth in the military, like a bird swept out to sea. He was just along for the ride.

He threw the photos down like unwanted post, like they didn’t matter. He wasn’t that man anymore. He knew he’d have to head to the lab soon, so he grabbed his phone, seeing a barrage of texts from Marc and May. He sent a text to their chat group, to let them know he was on his way.

> Vic. Lena’s here and she’s waiting for you. We can’t get rid of her. Are you alright???

> I’m fine. Needed some space. I’m on my way now.

—-

He was barely a day out of cardiac surgery and he was already having to prepare for battle. Grabbing his phone, keys and his baccy tin, he headed down to the lab, yawning and definitely in no rush. He was so bored of the control device project. He was tired of repeatedly asking for specimens, and Lena’s demand for him to pick up the pace. Truth be told, he had *no* intention of delivering on his promise. He’d make the device, but he wasn’t going to make it work like she wanted. Then there was Shockwave hanging around, his intentions were completely unclear. And Megatron still wanted to see him. As much as it pained him to imagine how *that* was going to go, he was curious as to what he’d learn. Or did Megatron simply want revenge?

Vic had been miles away in his mind, and he walked into the lab having almost forgotten the chaos that awaited him. Almost as soon as he stepped around the door, Lena flew over to him, having to crane her neck up at him as he shot an equally scathing glance down at her.

“Been hiding have you, Meridian!? Figures. You know *exactly* how badly you’ve fucked up. Show me what you’ve done. I need to make a note of the damage.”

Victor had walked right past her, beelining for his desk in the hopes she’d just leave him alone if he made himself look busy. He felt her grab his flesh arm, nails digging in as she tried to stop him. She was disgusted at herself for having to even touch him, but the shock of it had the desired effect. She looked at the stapled up wound, callously photographing it with her phone without his permission and as quickly as possible. She looked absolutely furious. Her usually perfectly sleek, scooped back hairstyle now looked so full of static, it was as though someone had plugged her in to the national grid. She stared up at Victor like a sparrowhawk about to pounce on prey. Her lips quivered from the anticipation of scolding him, and she tried not to run over herself with her own words, as the venom that ensued with them was overwhelming. Marc and May watched from nearby, powerlessly.

“Nothing to say, Victor? No sarcastic little quip? no smarmy anecdotes today, then?”

Victor remained calm, sitting at his computer as he pulled up the files. He simply didn’t have the energy to fight today. He took the barrage of insults and provocation, and felt her lean close, her words and the stale alcoholic fume of her breath making him move as far from her as he could.

“I can’t wait to see the Quintessons pull your disgusting corpse out of that armour, like a cooked snail. You know they’ll be angry, Victor, at what you’ve done. Imagine trying to save your loved one and simultaneously condemning her. Hah! Only a man like you could pull that off. Stop trying to play hero, it just doesn’t suit you - You hurt everyone who cares about you, and you don’t even notice, do you? You don’t even care-“

That was it. That was all Vic could take. In a very rare show of sudden and extreme rage, Vic got up, launched the chair across the lab, taking out several lights from the vixen e he’d thrown it with. He then proceeded to utterly obliterate his computer and keyboard, with his fists and claws. Lena moved back so quickly that she tripped over and scrambled back as fast as she could, to get away from him. The whole thing was over in seconds, but the speed, strength and ferocity of his outburst was terrifying. He’d ripped out the top portion of his stitches, and a violet streak of warm blood began to run down his abdomen. His expression was hard, jaw set and clenched. He was panting through gritted teeth and said absolutely nothing, but the sound of his voice huskily growling in his throat was animal, tiger-like. Lena looked horrified. She actually looked *scared*. There was blood dripping off his clenched fists.

Lena shakily got to her feet after just staring up at him for a few moments, and she too had no more words. He looked like a cornered wild animal, completely tense, veins standing up and his tail was lashing and flicking behind him. It was so terrifying to see him like that that even Marc was wary and he stood in front of May protectively, as a precaution. They watched Lena trying to salvage her composure, watching the tense stare down as Lena backed down, and swiftly left. The door to the lab slammed as she left, pride chipped. Shockwave watched silently from the other side of the lab, Marc cautiously approached. The last time he’d seen Vic look that wild, people had died. He could see the adrenaline wearing off though, as Vic began to sag forwards, feeling the pain now. Marc grabbed a first aid kit and went to him, trying to hide his fear.

“….It’s ok, Vic. She’d gone now. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Vic calmed down quickly, following tentatively where Marc lead. When he saw May’s expression, he felt terrible for her.