exsilium | [Video]

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[Video]

[ Oh look! It's Drift, your neighborhood giant robot. He looks pretty banged up, plating scraped and paint chipped in spots. More over, he doesn't look like his usual aggressively serene self. He glowers at the screen, downright dour, optics glowing coldly from under his helm. ]

I'm back.

Sorry to anyone I've been tutoring on swordplay.

Lessons are cancelled until further notice.

I'll be working on my house if anyone needs me.

[ His mouth draw into a tight line before he switches the video off. ]

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Our house, yes.

[He sounds contrite: he's been a bad companion for Drift here. ]

[A pat phrase comes to mind, a neat aphorism about not being wrong if one follows one's spark, but for some reason he can't say the words. Not with the way Drift sounds.]

Can I come to you? You can tell me what you want to tell me, if you want, then.

Yes. Alright.

I will. I promise.

[The brusqueness is even more concerning, even as it reminds Wing of Drift as he'd seen him in Crystal City.]

Thank you, Drift. I'll be there...soon.

[Soon being a handful of kliks later, his engines whining at max before he drops out of the sky to land near the building.]

[ When he arrives, he'll find Drift rather aggressively tearing away some rotted out beams in the ceiling.

Calm down, Drift. The beams are dead already. ]

Drift?

[He steps closer, ducking at a splinter of wood flying past him. There's a symbolism here, he thinks, tearing away the bad. Only...Drift wasn't bad.]

[He moves next to Drift, reaching for another beam, with less violence.]

I should have taken care of this, Drift. I'm sorry.

Hey.

[ He chucks a hunk of soggy wood over into a pile. ]

It's okay, don't apologize. I honestly intended this as a gift for you. But you know. I just. I'm not good at that kind of thing.

[Wing's mouth works for a moment and he reaches over, trying to grasp Drift's wrist, to stop him from this almost manic action.]

Drift. Just having you here with me is all the gift I could ask for.

[ It jars him enough that he looks at Wing. Straight on. ]

I screwed up really bad, Wing. I don't know if. You'll want to- if anyone will want to be around me anymore.

I messed up so bad and I got people killed.

[He wraps both his hands around Drift's one, pressing against it as though trying to push some sort of comfort into Drift's palm.]

There's nothing you could do that would make me not want to be around you.

Everyone makes mistakes. The fact that you are upset about it matters, Drift. An irredeemable mech wouldn't care.

[ He pauses, staring at the floor. ]

It's more than that. I did it, knowingly I did it and I've desytroyed lives. I lied to my friends and then got them killed because I wanted a sure way to fight the Decepticons if they came back.

[ He moves so that the gouge where his Autobrand had been is visible. ]

If this is any indication of my crimes.

Oh, Drift.

[He always did try too hard. But it made him special and precious to Wing, and the hurt in his face as he turned his bare chestplate would have dispelled any judgment Wing would have made anyway.]

[He brushes a hand over the white metal, a sign, hopefully, that it doesn't make Drift less in his optics, before he gives into the building impulse and pulls Drift into a hug, his own cockpit pressed against the scarred metal. ]

I'm sorry they turned you away. They had no right.

[ He doesn't feel like he deserves a hug, but from Wing? Yeah, he's not going to refuse that. He leans into it. ]

But they did. It was my fault. I helped bring Overlord onto the ship, Wing. Overlord. I mean yes we took precautions but-

[ He sighs. ]

And I didn't get to make it right. I need to.

[Over Drift's shoulder, Wing frowns.]

No, they didn't. None of them have clean consciences, none of them have any ground from which to be judging you, Drift. None of them.

[He sounds fierce, but it's protective. The Autobots were no better than Decepticons in the war, just as violent, just as tied to their ideology.]

You'll get to make it right. You will. When you go back again. [Because if he went back once, he can go back again.]

But right now...Drift, you need to heal yourself before you can fix anything with them.

[ He doesn't say anything. He won't argue with Wing, but as Drift is Drift, he's going to probably torment himself over it for some time to come.

Fow now, he just returns the hug, perhaps a bit too tightly. ]

[And Wing will do his best to soften the blows Drift will aim at himself.]

[But he knows when to drop a subject: he's learned that much at least.]

....I missed you.

I missed you too.

Never thought I'd be homesick for this place but...

[ Wing being here, and his friends maken it so. That's the unfinished thought anyways. ]

So um. Do. You like the place so far?

It is a hard place to feel entirely comfortable in, yes. But you have friends here, Drift.

[Not just Wing, but other friends who cared about him, who knew him as he was.]

[Wing smiles, curling his hand under Drift's chin playfully.]

I like it better with you.

[Even like this.]

Yes, it really is. But I'm starting to prefer it.

[ Maybe that's just the bitterness talking.

As he's forced to look right at Wing when the hands move under his chin, he looks moderately bewildered and probably a bit flustered. ]

I-

Well. Thank you. I like it better with you, too.

[ He still feels that heavy guilt crouching on his back, but Wing does help. ]

[The shadows in the backs of the blue eyes distress Wing, and he resolves to do what he can to allay them. But right now, prying doesn't seem right. Drift has already told him enough.]

We should go on another mission together. Or explore outside the city.

[Something, he thinks, that Drift can feel is helping others. That might be a step toward restoring him. Drift never had been good at seeing the good in his own spark, though.]

I think I'd like that.

[ Something to do that's useful and productive would help. He'd just drive himself crazy otherwise. ]

Can we sit... for a while?

I'd like that: to fight alongside you again.

[But better this time.]

[He gives a fond smile, tugging Drift towards a seat.]

Of course. When was the last time you fueled?

Me too. But less with the... uhm.

[ Dying. No dying for you, Wing.

He gladly sits next to him, leaning over to rest his head against one of Wing's shoulders. ]

I can't remember.

Drift.

[He thinks he can guess what's behind the hesitation. And it hurts to be reminded of the pain he'd caused Drift. He'd known he was going to die: that was a given when he'd volunteered. He hadn't known how much it would affect Drift. ]

When we fight together, we're unbeatable.

[He reaches a hand to stroke over Drift's helm as the other nestles against him.]

We should take care of that, too, then.

[Energon, and rest. Those wouldn't fix anything, but they could help give Drift strength.]

[ Ahh okay. Being pet is... very, very nice. Drift notably relaxes, flopping against him a bit more loosely. Wing gets a soft hum in agreement, the former Autobot not entirely inclined to argue much. ]

Okay... I'm not terribly hungry but okay. Can we just sit for a while longer, though?

[He does notice the loosening, so he keeps up the long gentle strokes over Drift's helm, his shoulder. If Drift fell into recharge right here, Wing would be entirely content.]

Of course. Whenever you're ready.

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