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The cursing that blew out of him when the medic dropped were some of the most colorful he'd used since coming to this planet. Why the medic thought it was okay to take a drop in front of a blasted enforcer and then not have it matter he didn't know, but he had to intervene now. Had to. He knew he was in trouble coming this close to the base, their alert system could come on and remove him from existence at any time.
His paranoia and the instinct that he simply wasn't safe screamed at him, but he ignored it as he rolled to the bottom of the hill and transformed, stalking up until he could kneel right next to the downed seeker. And promptly smack him across the back of the helm.
"Do you hear yourself mech?" His words came out in a snarl, finally out of the comm now that he was right up on the larger mech. "Does your life mean so little to you that you push away anyone that offers you the slightest show of concern? You fear for their safety on this big secret of yours, but it has trapped you in a body made for the skies and a mind that is going mad for the lack of it. You are destroying yourself. Do you really think these friends of yours care so little about you that they would abandon you over this secret? And if so, then protect them outside it, but Primus mech fight for yourself too."
He vented and rose slowly, fishing into his subspace and offering the exhausted mech a cube of energon. Which was hard for him to come by, but that he felt was needed more by the other than himself. His red optics were scanning the area, at guard.
"You need help, mech. Even if they do not know why, or what secret you hold, you need them to help you. I will not ask why, it is none of my business, but even I can see how much it hurts you. We all have some dark secrets in our pasts, things we regret doing and things we wish we could change, but they are things that we must all live with in change. Some have bigger and darker secrets than others, but it remains the same." Barricade shifted where he stood, and wondered if the seeker realized he'd just fallen under the protection of an enforcer. At least while he was outside the Outpost, anyway.
"You wish others not to worry, but anyone with any common sense and decency would worry to see someone fall as you did. I am in no position to help you, and I wish to. So drink the cube, you will feel better and that is all I have to offer you. Energon and a moment to gather yourself as much as you can before facing them again."
He angled his shoulders and offered Pharma a hand to get up when he felt able to. "I am a soldier, expendable and easily forgotten in the tides of this war. I cannot do much, but if I have given you even a moment of respite then that is more than enough." He vented. "Just please tell them not to shoot me."
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
He gave a tired look, giving a tearful laugh for a moment after that smack. He wasn't angry or even violent. "Secrets, you mean. One...one could destroy all I've worked for, all I've cared for. The other...well, let's just say it's not something that you just bandy about unless you want to Froid or Rung to have to analyze you to death. I for one would rather die of something that isn't 'intense psychological scrutiny'." He then gave a frigid look. "...I don't know who to trust anymore except my protege. I know how low most of my comrades think of me. I only pray that the place that I found my way here from never has to come from their lips. Because I don't know if I'll be able to hold back." His optics had a faint tinge of redness at the edges. Even thinking of Delphi angered him now.
A shaky blue hand took the cube and sipped tiredly. "Just so long as you never insist that this so-called 'help' drags me to Messatine. Dreadful cold place. And not just the weather." If anything, he believed places had a soul in a way, and the soul of Planet Messatine, where Delphi was situated, was a cold, cruel soul reflected by its turbulent, blizzard-like weather. A place that he wished to never feel the soul of ever again, for the way it tried to freeze his own soul.
He gave a sad smile. "I guess in my old age and my cracked mind state...I just feel that sometimes it's better off if someone doesn't help me. If I have to build up the will on my own...I'll be fine. I've felt worse. Ugh..." He covered his face with his palm. "Guess that fall was me trying to...'fly' as it were? But 'fly downward'. Oops." He was trying to make a joke but it just made him realize it wasn't funny at all. "Who'm I kidding. I want them to care but I'm afraid of them caring. It's stupid, I know. It's stupid and it's arrogant and it's FOOLISH. I'm probably afraid that if they care, that they'll be punished for it in some way--whether by high command when they find out the sins of the past, or by the Decepticon Justice Division when they find me again. I don't think they're just obsessed because I used to be stationed near their home turf."
He gave a tired smile for a moment. He would then tip a small, clear vial into the cube before taking another drink. Once he felt he could stand, he slowly reached for Barricade's hand. "...even the briefest. I hope that in my age, I don't forget this like the frayed edges of my memory, so much like the frayed edges of this galaxy." He then murmured. "I'll get in front of you if I have to in order to tell them not to shoot. They won't shoot a carrier--even one who has already separated the newspark from his own."
"Be easy mech." He told him quietly, watching him to make sure he didn't take a header off the little platform they were on just now. Wings or not, that fall would hurt. And a seeker with squished wings was as ornery a creature as a mech with squashed doorwings. Ornery and violent. He did not want to deal with that. Especially not against a mech twice his size as this one was. "Being able to trust just one is more than I have at the moment. I cannot trust anyone, and believe me, my paranoia is not a state I wish on anyone. Always looking over my shoulder, scanners going full blast and wondering when and where the next attack is coming from. When my enemies or former allies will decide to wipe me out. I am cut off, and as long as I choose to remain neutral I will stay cut off." He snorted. "It makes doing my intended purpose very hard, because if I get damaged I have no medic to patch me back up and send me back out again. It drives me crazy."
He grasped the mechs hand firmly and pulled him to his pedes, hands out to steady him in case he overbalanced between sitting and standing. "Easy." It had been a long time since he'd wanted to look out for someone like this. Way too long, but the protocol and process of it all was coming back quickly. If they were still on Cybertron he'd probably take the other mech to the one he trusted and pass him along where he could feel somewhat safe, probably check in on him periodically as his patrols allowed. With those times beyond his reach, and Pharma being an Autobot, he could only do so much.
So he listened while the other vented, head tipping slightly even as his scanners made him internally cringe with all the too-close Autobot signatures he was exposing himself to.
"Sounds to me like you really needed to vent." He wedged his shoulder forward and nudged the larger mech. "For what its worth I do not believe you foolish or selfish. Paranoid, definitely, but neither of the other two things. But I do not know you, so my word means nothing." He shrugged, though it bothered him that pretty much nobody could trust him at his word, when his word meant everything to him once.
"If they are really your friends then it will not matter what it is you have done. They may be disappointed in you, or sad for what you have been through, but if the one you trust most is truly your friend he will not abandon you if he finds out. A real friend never does, the loyalty is too strong. As for the DJD, they may be strong and cunning, but they are not infallible. They can be evaded and prepared against. And me? I have been running for years from my old comrades, and as of yet that works out well for me. But I have the sense that running would not make you feel any better."
And then the bomb dropped and Barricade's attention went from casual to fully focused in a second. A newspark, a sparkling. An unprotected, very new creator. And where the heck was the sparkling? Who had the little one? Were they safe if he didn't trust any but one? Protocol hit him straight between the optics and a low growl rumbled out of his chassis. "It would be very bad for them to point a weapon at you with me around. One of my primary protocols tells me to protect carriers and their offspring. It would come to a fight, and I have the feeling you would not appreciate that. And I would eventually lose for protecting you."
He vented, palming a clawed hand over his face to calm himself down. "Its been a long time since I have seen a sparkling. Mech or femme?" Did he have a little mech or a little femme, as his shorthand speech sometimes confused others that weren't used to it. Hopefully he got his point across.
And what a weird conversation to be having with someone that not so long ago he'd have called his enemy.
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
"That was me on Messatine." Pharma gave a sad smile. He knew exactly what it was to always glance over his shoulder between trying not to get caught by his fellow medics, watching out for the Decepticon Justice Division, and attempting to monitor his experiments from afar. Experiments that he could never tell anyone about. "I'm used to making deals so...perhaps I could make a secret deal with you? What have I got to lose?"
He took deep ventillations, his optics seeming to edge with a calm hint of yellow before he settled to lean against the wall slightly. "There's still a lot to get off my chest but I don't want to be a bother or a bore, you know? Besides, some of what's on my chest still is...sensitive and medical at times." Not about patients--never about patients. But about his own health. That was something he would have to vent to Ratchet about.
"Running has made me feel worse, and it's...not just the DJD. I know we're running out of time, and something terrible is just waiting out there." His mind was focused on an eldritch horror at times, but one that he didn't remember.
It took a moment to take in the question. "Femme. Looks just like me. I made sure that nothing of her sire is seen on her frame..." That seemed quite odd and vague. A sire not in the picture, and seemingly for reasons that he refused to divulge.
"Then it is probably for the best that you are no longer on Messatine." He deadpanned it and shifted, glancing around at his surroundings once again. It was so different here, knowing he wasn't safe but staying anyway. His sense of self preservation was blaring warnings that he should run, should put as much distance between himself and the Autobot Outpost as possible. But he stayed, attending an overwrought seeker. And his offer of a secret deal drew a dark look from the former decepticon to the mech at his side. "Not a chance. You have enough you have to keep from those around you, I will not make myself the reason for one more. I appreciate the offer, mech, I really do."
How long had it been since anyone wanted to help him? There had been that strange femme, but she'd given him the creeps. And he'd had to botnap First Aid for the initial repairs he'd needed. So, voluntary assistance was a new thing.
So much more that he needed out of his system, but since it wasn't something he, as an enforcer, could really help with it would be best for it to go to a medical professional. Which likely Pharma knew. "You are not boring me. I might not understand everything you speak to me about, but you are not a bore. Of course, being alone most of the time it may be impossible for me to become bored with civil conversation at this point." He let himself settle as much as his paranoia would allow, leaning against the wall and somewhat glad the seeker outsized him enough that he was partially hidden from view. Maybe he'd get out of here without the others noticing him, but he doubted it. And he didn't want to make trouble for someone that was already clearly at breaking point with trouble.
"You would know more about that than me." He put his hands claws out in front of him and splayed them, simply examining the appendages and realizing how much his frame had changed over the course of the war. He only snapped out of it when the sparkling was mentioned again.
"Nothing wrong with that." He was not going to ask why the sire wasn't in the picture, it wasn't his business. Besides, he had enough common sense to piece together that whatever had happened wasn't good and had left Pharma as a single creator. It was uncommon back home, but not completely unheard of. "I bet she is a sight to behold, wings on a frame so small." And tipping over constantly, as young sparklings with wings or doorwings tended to do.
He was also doing his best not to seem too interested. He actually had enjoyed sparklings back on Cybertron. As long as he could give them back.
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
"No shame in turning me down. Maybe it's for the best." He seemed a lot less shaky about it as of that point. Barricade was trying to help. He did care at least enough to listen to the ramblings of a "mad doctor".
"True, since it's something I can't even speak about. I guess that sounds kind of dumb." He spoke softly. "...er, not dumb."
He gave a soft, sentimental smile. "When she's not tipping forward or backward a little. She tries. She tries mind you. Even nowadays I have troubles with these old shoulder-mounts. Back-winged seekers don't know how good they have it."
"As much as I would like to be fully assured that my injuries are fully healed I will not be the cause of your further distress." He shook himself and palmed a clawed hand across his face again, mentally telling himself to stand down. He was picking up things, from somewhere, things that didn't make sense for his own skill set. Noting where the cameras were, the doors, the distance from where he was to what would be considered a safe distance from the Outpost, going over the most likely mechs they'd send against him should they notice him. Things he usually let those higher up in the hierarchy wonder about and just followed their lead. This close to the outpost these off set impulses were painfully loud and his spark spasmed inside his chassis. He wondered if he was still in some form of spark failure, but didn't dare say so in front of a medically trained, stressed out seeker.
Barricade made a low humming sound, his engine idling as they spoke of more mundane things. And also failing not to become invested in talk of a sparkling. It had been so long since he'd seen or even heard of one being around, it was hard to reign in his curiosity. "And I bet you fuss over every little tumble. Most creators do. Fuss and then realize everything is fine and that it is okay to let them fall every once in awhile. I imagine, when she starts flying, then the real worrying will begin."
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
"I can't fault you for that. Been a while since someone didn't want me to keep something a secret or I didn't feel like I could do anything but keep one." His optics seemed to bear a strange tint for a moment, but not one that he would honestly openly disclose the source of if he could play it off as part of his religion. "Won't force you to promise to keep yourself safe either. That's not a promise one can keep in wartime. All we can promise is we'll fight til our dying vents to survive." His vents seemed heavy for a moment before settling. It wasn't panic, per-say, but his processor and his spark feeling strange.
He then laughed. "Oh, I did for the first few times, until she laughed hysterically at tipping forward. Now what I'm more terrified of is when she figures out that what she does when startled isn't like what normal sparklings do." His wings flicked nervously for a moment. "She's like me. She'll never know normal, really. A warborn child is...well...bound to think peace is strange."
He shrugged at that. It was true. When one was in war one couldn't simply promise to be safe. It was impossible. "In the least I can promise to keep my head down. I, for one, wish to live."
Barricade was oddly subdued, again not something natural to himself. He was always filled with energy, always had to be on the move or he tended to go crazy or drive others so. Now he was perfectly content to sit here so long as he was somewhat safe, and speak with Pharma. Oddest and longest conversation he'd had in an age.
"Sparklings grow out of strange things sometimes. I knew a couple back on Cybertron, and their little one would...well he sneezed and he would electrocute those around him. Low voltage, so no one was ever hurt, but I found it hilarious."
A war-born sparkling. "I try not to think about that. It makes me glad I never really clicked with anyone. I think I would go crazy if I had a sparkling to worry about in this situation." He growled, a low bass sound that vibrated through his chassis. "Of course only a fool attempts to separate a hunter from their offspring. The creator might die, but the sparkling will be retrieved."
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
"I..." It was strange to think about it. After all those times he'd wished to die when he was at Delphi, all those times he secretly prayed Tarn or Kaon would kill him on the Nemesis, that time he had secretly hoped that Shockwave's removal of one of his newsparks would have killed him from the energy backlash...no. No. He had reasons to live now. Plenty of them. "I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that it's not death I wanted so much as terrible things I was going through to end. But I want to live. I really do, deep down."
Pharma himself felt more subdued than normal, himself. The waves of his usual anxiety seemed to melt away. The quiet desperation would trickle down. Being around a comfortable stranger like Barricade seemed to help. Someone who didn't judge him for Delphi. For death, destruction, and deadly viruses.
"Sneezed electricity, did he? Well, now I don't...I don't feel so strange about my little one doing the same." He laughed. "She startles herself with it."
He then vented and swallowed. "We can only hope that no matter what...she ends up in safe hands, even if they don't end up being mine. NEVER her sire's."
He had nothing to say to that. He wasn't the sort to be able to deal with someone that seemed to him that at one point may have been on the suicidal side. He knew to get them to those that could help, but wasn't all that equipped to help them himself. It was good he seemed in better spirits, or Barricade was sure he'd be toting the other straight back into the Autobot base, danger or no danger. That was the purpose of an enforcer, former or otherwise. Perhaps, seeing how easily he'd fallen back into the role, it wouldn't be a bad thing to try and become an active neutral enforcer. He may cringe at anything organic touching him, but maybe he could tolerate it if it meant he could have a real purpose again.
Red optics regarded the mech at his side once again, tuning back into the conversation. "She sneezes electricity?" He snorted then laughed outright. "From what I remember it is just a lingering thing from being carried that they sometimes keep. If I remember right the little mechlet grew out of it with his first upgrade." That is from one frame to the next. And hearing the little one startled herself made him have to hold back a bit of commentary, because it was well outside his norm and he refused. "Has she sneezed herself off her pedes yet?"
Pharma went on and spoke of what would happen to his little one if she weren't in his capable care. "I would say work that out with someone you trust to care for her." He thought a moment, and something told him that he should offer his assistance even if it was very unlikely to ever be something he had to do. He was an enforcer, a protector by nature. Becoming a soldier hadn't changed that. "Shall I return her to you if she is ever taken then?"
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
It was a relief to not hear judgment. Some mecha would have judged him. Others would have tried to have him committed. When neither happened, his frame seemed to relax just that little bit more.
"Oh thank Primus and the Guiding Hand." His words seemed unusually swift. Even he, as a medic, had never heard about sparklings having residual carrying energies. Perhaps something discovered in recent eons? "Twice. And once managed to even take me off my pedes. Albeit it was early morning, and I'm not a morning mech by any stretch."
He then vented and swallowed. "Yes. By all means, please. You'd know her immediately. She resembles me strongly." By which, of course, he meant "completely". But he wasn't going to say that.
A bark of laughter rang out of him again at that, unable to contain it. "That must have been some sneeze then, to take a mech your size off his pedes." He felt the strangest relaxation of his guard, just sitting here with this very damaged mech who needed someone to simply listen without judgement. "I am no medic, so I do not understand why it happens. I have to believe what I was told when I asked after the mechlet." He shifted, actually stretching some where he sat and settling again.
The hunter tipped his helm towards the medic again, noting that he may have stumbled across one of the roots of this mechs problems. Overprotective creator wasn't a bad thing, but that he seemed to really fear that his little one would eventually be removed from his care. "Straight back to you then, I swear it." It was an enforcer's oath, and one he hadn't made in years. Strange to find himself falling back to habit like this.
"She might be afraid of me as she does not know me." He mused aloud, contemplating the situation in a hypothetical way. "I like to believe that sparklings know who is there to help and who is there to hurt. Like some instinct they possess towards the adults in their lives." He vented and settled, though he kept his scanners going and continued to check for any danger in the surroundings. "I would say I wish to meet her, but that would be entirely impossible. I doubt you want to expose your sparkling to someone like me, and if you fear so much for her then coming outside the safety of the base is out of the question."
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."
Pharma couldn't help but laugh softly. "Again, I'm not so coordinated in the morning times." He shrugged slightly. He then seemed to settle slightly in thought. There was still a chance it was because of electrical abilities. She could have in fact inherited them and he would not be any wiser unless her hands charged.
The relief in his posture was more palpable when Barricade made the oath. His optics seemed to take on a lavender hue of relief before flickering back to blue in a single blink. His spark was pounding nervously.
"I've heard it's almost instinctual. They know when one is there to help. I can only pray that any bad instincts, any wrong code...no...no. It's not important." There he went, censoring himself. He hoped she didn't have defective code from he himself. It was possible that she had inherited Decepticon coding as it was!
"I cannot even talk. When I first awaken from recharge I tend to run right into the first door I come across. And then fall flat on my aft." He shook his head but was still chuckling and amused. He was actually pretty calm just now, despite the danger he was still in. But with the medic at his side they wouldn't be able to shoot until he moved away or risk hitting Pharma as well. And if one of those idiots showed up and did accidentally shoot the other mech they'd find their head disengaged from their frames for shooting a carrier.
Pharma's sparkling needed him. Damage to him was unacceptable. He vented loudly and told himself to stand down once again. This was what happened to him when he was out on his own for long periods of time. Protocol and instinct were everything to a hunter born mech like himself, and this carrier needed looking after. Something he couldn't do from the outside. But what was there to do about that without joining the Autobots and being thrown right back to the front lines as a dispensable soldier?
He nudged the other as he started to seemingly spiral into a very bad place when speaking of his sparkling. "Regardless of their origins, most sparklings develop from the personalities and treatment of the ones around them. Do not blame yourself. And do not allow the actions of the little one's sire to depict what you think she could be. Worrying about it is asking for it to happen to her. Treat her the way a good creator should. Love her and devote your time and energy to her proper raising. Everything else will work itself out with time."
"I'm the bad cop. Don't bother to ask for the good cop, I killed him."