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Characters: @springer , Open Location: Somewhere in Canada Content Warnings: PTSD, mentions of past violence, mentions of events in Last Stand of the Wreckers and Sins of the Wreckers, potential violence Plot Summary: Springer is caught in the Convergence and forced back into the war-torn universe he'd thought he'd left behind
It had been some time since that last mission on Earth. Since he'd effectively retired from the Wreckers and the Autobots. He was tired. He'd been dead, for all intents and purposes. He'd needed to heal, mentally, mostly. You didn't just come back from being in the state he'd been in and act like everything was fine. Impactor had understood. Kup had understood. Verity had been there with him. They were a pair of Wreckers, they understood each other. Even if he had millions of years on her, she understood the pain of loss that came with the war. And she'd been there to call out his name when the memories became too much for him. When he'd have 'episodes' of flashbacks to his time just after his battle with Overlord. Those minutes when he'd still been awake. Those minutes, and other times.
He'd become very attuned to Verity's unique signature. Human, with just enough Cybertronian for him to pick it up easily. He had taken to idly monitoring that signature. After all, the last time she'd been away from the Wreckers for too long, she'd nearly died from overexposure to Cybertronian energy. Even if she'd been healed of the illness it caused, he worried about her. She could be reckless and, at the moment, she was all he had. It was nice in a way, to be a team of two with nothing better to do than watch the Northern Lights.
Which was why it was so devastating when her signature disappeared.
Panic had immediately seized him. He'd been flying, just giving his T-cog and his rotors a stretch. She'd been at home, a place he never strayed too far from. And then, abruptly, he couldn't read her anymore. He'd flown back, of course, convinced that something had happened to her. Humans were fragile, after all. He'd been prepared to go in guns blazing, despite not picking up a threat on his scanners. In fact, when he landed at the coordinates...
Home wasn't even there.
And no amount of searching had led to him finding it. Or Verity.
That had been three days earlier. Three short Earth days. He'd never felt loneliness as acutely as he had during those three days. He'd continued to search, despite knowing, inside, that it was in vain. His signal was completely unmasked. After all, Cybertronian activity was fairly limited on Earth, and those who needed him knew where he was. In fact, he was so desperate that he was nearly ready to come out of his self-imposed exile and call Optimus. If anyone could figure out what was going on, what led to people and places just disappearing, it was the Prime.
Springer stood in the snow, surrounded by trees, at the spot where the cabin had been . A human cabin, not made for a being his size. But, it had been home. And now it was gone. Blue optics roved restlessly over the treeline as he thought, wracking his processor for a solution. There had to be an explanation...if only Perceptor were here. He was brilliant. Or Kup, his mentor, always so wise. They usually had some sort of reasoning for things....but, at the moment, he was on his own.
It began slowly, then built up just behind the chilling wind.
A sharp, metallic disturbance cresting the edge of one's hearing.
Footsteps, slow and foreboding.
Hypnos loved Autobots. Wreckers, she adored. Their rough and tough attitude combined with a suicidal combat mentality meant she savored every last encounter she had with them. But Springer, he was the Wrecker; and he'd been so kind as to wander around long enough to allow his signature to be tracked. The quintessential soldier was walking around Canada, alone and without escort. There was no better time to ask for an autograph.
She could see him now, though he hadn't quite detected her just yet. It had been decades since she'd exercised a personal touch that didn't involve her power, meaning she had to show diligence about revealing herself too early. The time would come, though. And she was ready for it.
Springer had learned to live by the gut feeling in his tanks. It was part of the reason he was still alive. So, when he got a chill down his spinal strut, one that ran from processor to the stabilizing units of his hip joints, he paused. It was the same chill he'd gotten when Impactor shut himself in that room with Squadron X. The same chill he'd gotten when he'd heard that Overlord was on G-9. The same chill he'd gotten when Kup had ordered him awake because Prowl, one of the greatest liabilities the Autobots had, was missing. He knew that chill. It was the chill that said that something wasn't right, and was about to get worse.
He'd been a Wrecker for far too long not to live by that gut feeling, and assess what that chill was telling him.
In an almost casual manner, he pulled a pistol from subspace, small but powerful and accurate. His time spent leading the team meant that his first reaction to danger always came in the form of drawing a weapon. He never ran from trouble, unless it was to regroup or gather reinforcements and hit it harder next time. 'Retreat' wasn't in the Wrecker vocabulary.
He didn't need to read a signal to guess that it was a Decepticon presence. That was his first inclination, something four million years of war had drilled into him. When slag went down, blame the 'Cons first. And then Prowl.
Springer turned slightly, mentally falling back into the same mentality that he had lived in for millennia. He didn't know what he was facing, what had caused that chill, but, he knew it was time to Wreck and Rule.
Almost immediately, the flashbacks of Garrus-9 threatened to break through, to shatter the unwavering confidence he was so famous for. The memories of his team being torn apart by an enemy they stood no chance against. Of himself being torn apart. He held fast, sheer will holding them at bay.
And then he heard the footsteps. Cybertronaian footsteps, slow, unhurried. Not an Autobot, for certain. They would have greeted him by now. Not a wary Neutral, either. They would have stayed hidden. Decepticon. His optics, perfectly blue, narrowed and his mouth set in a grim line. He'd hoped his killing days were behind him. He'd felt more at peace than he'd ever felt before, out here in the cold, on planet Earth. They'd told him the war was over. But, his instincts were telling him otherwise.
He completed his turn, facing toward the footsteps, every bit the proud soldier from all the stories, his gun held confidently in one servo.
Springer tensed. Definitely a 'Con. Nobody did mind games like a Decepticon. Damn. He'd forgotten just how much he despised dealing with them beyond a good wrecking.
"I guess word hasn't gotten around. This is home, 'Con. I'm liking Earth a lot better than I'm liking just about anyplace else these days."
As he spoke, he turned, slowly, trying to identify the source of the voice. He didn't look down. He didn't expect to need to.
"I'll ask you the same question. Seems like the only 'Con who'd be willing to face me down is one looking for their own burial."
He wasn't above using his own reputation as a weapon. It had served him well in the past. And this Decepticon had identified him right off. He wasn't sure who he was dealing with, but, he figured he'd find out soon enough.
"Believe me, Earth isn't all it's cracked up to be."
"Down here, by the way."
When the voice spoke again, it was clearly coming from the small four wheeled vehicle just behind Springer. The vehicle itself seemed to be a bit startled by the voice's revelation, and ended up backing up over a twig, if only to point out his position even more.
Springer's optics jerked down, followed by his helm, as he turned. One pede slammed into the ground with a loud crunch of snow to stabilize the movement. He observed the vehicle as he spoke again.
"It's grown on me," was his only response.
He sincerely doubted that his mystery converser was a minicon. Especially not with the way the body language didn't match up with what was being said. Which meant a pair. Just his luck. After going so long without meeting a Decepticon, this is the one that finds him.
"You and your little friend here for any particular reason or were you just looking to chat?"
It wouldn't be the strangest thing that had happened. Though, he sincerely doubted it.
Playback transformed, letting out a rather embarrassing shriek as Springer turned to regard him. He was terrified of just about anything taller than him, including those who happened to be both Wreckers and packing serious heat. He lacked any weapons with which to defend himself with, meaning he had to rely solely on Hypnos for protection. Playback was never thrilled about that part, less so now that his boss had ratted out his location to the enemy.
"What are you DOING!?" he frantically asked, though not at Springer. Speaking of Springer, Plyback turned his red optics up towards the imposing former Autobot, in complete awe.
Boy he was a lot taller in person.
"HELLO!" he nervously cried.
"Banger of a day to to go do what it is Autobots do out in the cold, barren wilderness, isn't it...?"
Well, that was...unexpected. It seemed that the minicon was...less than pleased with his location being reveled. He was a tiny little thing...still, Springer kept his guard up. Despite how small, and somewhat amusing the little bot was, this could be part of a distraction of sorts.
Was the minicon attempting small talk? That had certainly never happened to him before.
"I'm not an Autobot. Not anymore."
It was no secret that the Wreckers considered themselves apart from the Autobot. Wrecker first. Wrecker always. Autobot...that was just attached. And he, personally, had chosen to let it go. He'd died an Autobot. It seemed fitting to let that Springer stay dead.
"And what is it that a Decepticon and a minicon are doing in the cold, barren wilderness?"
"Looking for Wreckers who left themselves open for a few days, you know how it is."
"Ooh, hang on. Lemme tell her..."
Playback, apparently having acclimated to the situation, reached down to pull out his communicator, which he held up to his head.
"Uh... yeah, hello; hi. We've got a problem here. Says he's not an Autobot anymore."
"Yeah, he quit."
The minicon cringed as his took in a dicey piece of information, and then held his silence as he was apparently receiving an earful from his boss. After a few moments, he switched off the device and turned back to Springer.
"Says you kinda killed the mood a bit, friend. Oh, and she wants you to step about... two meters in... any direction. Just, anywhere but where you're standing."
Springer's optics narrowed slightly. That was troubling. If they'd been tracking him for a few days, then there was some pretty serious Decepticon activity in the area. Odd. What could they possibly want around here? Aside from him. If he thought about it, he may be reason enough for that activity. Primus knows how many of them he'd killed.
Whatever the case, his tracker didn't seem pleased by his current position of retiree. Though, he doubted that it would stop them from killing him. Or, rather, her, if the minicon was to be believed.
As soon as the words 'any direction' left him, Springer moved. His transformation was fast for such a large bot, his rotors emerging first to lift him from the ground, blades sending the snow into a flurry around him and blocking visibility. Then, his body folded in to his chopper form.
"How about up."
He blasted out of the trees, sending them whipping back and forth in the wind. While not exceptionally maneuverable, it was more so than his land-based alt mode. He didn't take orders from Decepticons, and he wasn't about to start now.
"Yeah, that counts, thank you!" Playback shouted back.
"Alright, he moved, you can come out now."
Just as Playback spoke, the ground where Springer had been standing suddenly exploded in a mixture of snow and dirt. From the smoldering crater climbed Hypnos in all her glory, partially covered in snow and dirt. By the looks of things she had been absolutely ready to dance with death. Her Gauss gun was armed and spun up, just as her missile pods were loaded and deployed. Upon spotting Springer hovering in the air however, the Decepticon deactivated each and every piece of her offensive armament.
There was no point in fighting an 'Autobot' when that 'Autobot' wasn't going to spout off some nonsense about the moral invincibility of their cause, or the greatness of Optimus Prime, or some other garbage. Hypnos had really been hoping for a fight, and now she was left with an empty feeling.
Her one optic turned towards the sky, up at Springer. "Oh come back down here. You've already murdered my enthusiasm for the day."
Hypnos then glanced back down to Playback, who had been watching the situation unfold with great interest.
"Do you mind if I hypnotize him, now?"
Doing a double-take, the minicon responded.
"What? After you sold me out to him? No no no... unless you ask nicely; then the answer's still no."
Springer had been good and prepared for a fight. Perhaps even one in the air. But, when the Decepticon began to deactivate her weaponry, he realized that, without him being an active Autobot combatant, she had little interest in fighting him. He slowly lowered himself and transformed, landing a number of meters away with a dull thud, the ground beneath him shaking with his mass.
He was still wary, but, she hadn't attacked yet. Which meant he might as well ask his questions.
"What's a Decepticon doing out here, anyway? I know I've made a name for myself, but, I doubt that warrants a special trip to Earth."
He'd been on Earth for a good while now, and there had been no signs of Decepticons.
"Oh, I'd just taken up the time-honored pastime of having humans poke wires into my brain, and rip things out of me. I'm surprised it hasn't caught on yet. It's a fairly enjoyable hobby."
With a tone like that, it was anybody's guess if Hypnos was being genuinely sarcastic. But Playback knew, he knew through years of experience and exposure.
"But enough about me. Most deserters pick better places to retire in, though I suppose it would make sense that a Wrecker wants to retire in the middle of a warzone."
"...yeah. Why are you retiring on Earth, anyway? You know there's like... a million Decepticons and Autobots here, right? Not to mention those grubby... littler-than-me humans."
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