TEXT;

[forcowardice]

Well, now that things seem to be settling down somewhat.

I think it'd be nice if we did something pleasant for a change. I'm not really the best kind of person to plan this kind of thing, but it would be pleasant to arrange something nice for ourselves.

Especially since I finally think I have something "cream soda"-like composed for Cybertronian consumption.


[SCAVENGERS. LOSERS ONLY.]

Krok. Misfire.

Could we talk?

Comments

[dadcepticon]

Don't. You don't have to apologise for anything. I'm just – I'm just glad to have you back.

[Fulcrum and all the memories that come with him. Krok tugs the K-con in a little more snugly and slowly frees one hand to stroke down his back, trying to soothe.]

[forcowardice]

You won't lose me.

[He promised himself he was going to try to stay strong, because he's convinced that, really, Krok needs the stability. But it's so hard and he finds his own optics burn with flits of light at the edges, and a clear sob emitting from his throat as he presses in close against his friend and captain.]

[dadcepticon]

It's all right.

[Krok just settles his weight and lets Fulcrum lean on him.]

It's all right now. I've got you.

[forcowardice]

[It's the smallest thing. He's contained so much, but he can remember being pinned down, begging Chromedome to not take away his best memories. His memories of being found by the Scavengers, being taken in by them, forgiven and adopted into their crew. They were the best Decepticons, in his opinion, and Chromedome took them away, leaving him with just memories of the K-Class and Styx.

Being pulled against Krok like this allows him to just let go. He clutches Krok tightly, burying his face against the other Decepticon's shoulder and wailing.

It's an ugly cry.]

[dadcepticon]

[Krok can remember now – he has those memories back – he can remember when these positions were swapped. When he was the one hanging onto Fulcrum and bleeding out the fear and the grief in great big heaving sobs and Fulcrum just held him and gave him the safety and time he needed to cry. He tries to return the kindness now, stroking his hand down Fulcrum's back and listening.

It's a different pain to his own – it sounds deep and ugly and ragged. He lost his memories of his friend, yes, but Fulcrum had everything taken away. Krok can't quite imagine what that's like… though he can hear some of it.]

…

[Maybe he should say something. Nothing feels right; all the words he can think of are awkward, clumsy shapes rolling through his processor. So he holds Fulcrum and lets the K-con cry.]