#Cometeater

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

Two deadly organisms in a room, who twitches first?

Sunny meets a rather hungry alien.

And I actually colored a sketch HA

[quibble-auk]

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

Imma stop spamming you now I swear. But… instead of actually starting my project or writing or sleeping or doing anything else productive.

I just drew them from the Oregon trail game I played. Because let’s be honest, Cometeater and Dropmix being forced to hang out over the span of several months is great content. Especially because they can’t stand each other here lol

Anyway I’ll probably make the rest of them but enjoy Dropmix and Theremin

And because Dropmix just can’t keep his husband alive. Canonically this is how it happened.

They are wearing hats it’s the best thing ever

[hizokucycles]

Reposted from @thedraftcc Ready to the party. 🎉 … #steel #steelisreal #gravel #gravelride #madeinmadrid #columbus #gravelroads #gravelgrinder #cometeater #gravelespaña … 📸@coentelgenhof #hizokucycles Hizokucycles.com https://www.instagram.com/p/CSdbW4aHI00/?utm_medium=tumblr

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

@quibble-auk

Two monsters

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

Burn off some steam.

(@quibble-auk I just needed some fluff from the stuff we are planning, maybe some more brotherly moments to make the whole thing hurt even worse. I love it all by the way. Maybe the dialogue in this isn't too hard to read-)

Comet could smell that the twins were tense. Not literally but anyone who grew up among the two terrors would know.

Comet yawned again forking through his datapad of information from Prowl, not really reading it. No his optics were on his crimson and gold brothers.

Sideswipe hadn’t been able to sit still, he got up constantly. His knee jumped with tension, he hadn’t touched his newest datapad in ages. Which is what both he and Sideswipe were supposed to be doing. Preparing for the meetings with their respective superiors, Sideswipe noting the newest tactics witnessed while escorting the latest bug out of a movable medical facility. He was not doing that. Comet huffed softly as Sideswipe stood again, snatching up a rag to rub at his armor, again. Sunstreaker snarled at the sudden movement, slamming his paintbrush down in frustration. “Can you not stop moving for five minutes??”

Comet glanced at the work on Sunstreaker’s canvas, it was rough and the mental block the golden artist was going through was obvious in the half repainted subject. Sunstreaker had been staring at the work for an hour, remixing colors and growling under his breath when the shades didn’t match what was in his mind. It didn’t help that the mech was constantly being distracted by Sideswipes nervous antics.

“Nope.” Sideswipe popped the p without even looking up from his arm. Sunstreaker glared hard as his temper flared.

Cometeater sighed deeply, and stood. He stretched with a yawn, his back snapping and gaining annoyed looks from both of his brothers. Comet glanced surprised at the way Sideswipe huffed at the noise, now rubbing a little too hard on his red plating. Sunstreaker stood sharply snatching the rag, “You're gonna make it fraggin threadbare, then it won't be worth slag.” Sideswipe snarled, trying to get back the innocent piece of cloth. “Im not in the mood for your bitching Sunstreaker-”

Comet furrowed his brows at the short fused display. The aggravation was thick in the air now, the twins looked as if they were about to lock horns.

Ah. Now that's an idea.

Cometeater smiled to himself as he skirted past the almost tussling siblings.  He started to snatch up the used cubes around their room, the liquid inside long since drained during their late night working on reports. Comet had a couple in each hand as he passed the now still brothers. Both stopped inches from each other’s faces. “What are you doing?”  “Now of all times you decide to clean up the place, Comet??” Cometeater elected to ignore the annoyed growls as he quickly nabbed the empty cube beside Sunstreaker’s open paints.

Making a show of not touching his brother’s things. 

Then proceeded to click the paints shut. 

Both twins had relaxed from their aggression, now looking more confused than annoyed. Well Sunstreaker huffed protectively over his art supplies, but Comet paid it no mind,

With a flourish and one final turn Comet left.

He slipped from the hab-suit with a handful of cubes and only had to wait a moment before his older brothers followed him out. Comet smirked to himself over the quick footsteps to catch up with him, either brother on either side of him in seconds. 

Neither said a word as they trailed him through the bustling base of operations. Some gave the trio a wave or a nod but none tried to stop and speak with them, it was high noon and most if not all of the bots had places to be. Thankfully. Comet’s plan needed the twins to hold off on an outburst for at least a couple more minutes.

They entered the mess hall and the twins could only continue in their shadowing of the smaller mech as they went. Comet ended at their destination with a satisfied huff, and threw the cubes in the recycling unit. One by one of course. He tossed them at a slight distance, as the twins stared.

Sideswipe stole a cube and made a shot with a bored expression as Sunstreaker’s optic twitched, “You made us walk all through the base during rush hour, just for you to do that, really??” The annoyance was resurfacing with the ease of a diver. Sideswipe threw the last cube with a frown. “Back off Sunny we needed to get out of the room anyway, your mood was fragging clogging the air.”

Comet quickly turned on his heel as the twins began to argue. Sideswipe stopped mid insult and looked after the green mech, his eyebrows raising, “He left us.” Sunstreaker only groaned, “Why does he always have to be so weird.” 

But they took after him without another word.

So they went. Through the mass of bots once more, dodging machinery and officers with ease. Both twins felt their frustration mounting as they lost sight of their younger sibling more than a couple times in the crowds. “When I get him I’m tying that little slagger to the ceiling by his tail,” Sunstreaker grunted as they once more stopped to try and catch sight of Comet. “We're gonna have to glue him.” Sideswipe said with an amused huff.

By the time the two mechs found Cometeater again he was on the sparring grounds, sitting like the smug fragger he was. 

“Wow, you two are bad at this.” Comet baited leaning back smirking like a devil. Sunstreaker raised a brow at his choice of destination.

“What are you up to?” Sideswipe felt an odd old exhilaration starting as Comet stood, his tail forming in a long braid of flesh behind him, head lowered.

“I’m planning on beating your aft?” Comet smirked, his body language purposely cocky. “Oh really?” Sideswipe felt old programming rev to life at the posture of the other, catching on in an instant. Sunstreaker only rolled his optics, though the idea of burning off some steam did intrigue him. That would involve a good fight though.

“Comet please, if we wanted to get all scratched up we’d go on a drive.” But Sunstreaker felt his stance widening, his center of gravity lowering. 

Comet was a fast opponent though, Sunny would give him that.

-

His leg gave out from under him at a sharp snap of Comet’s tail, who was gone before Sideswipe could even land a hit in return. The rush of trying to catch the green alien had burned up any of his earlier frustrations though, Sunstreaker only grinned. Comet danced away with a chuckle as Sideswipe pursued, trying to pin the smaller mech. Sideswipe laughed when the mech slid sharply between his legs. They traded light blows, Comet dodging and running off before either of them could grab him. He landed with a sharp thud on Sideswipes back to escape Sunstreaker who was grinning maniacally at the rush. He crawled high onto the large mech effectively using his brother as a shield. “Thats not fraggin fair!” No malice colored Sideswipes tone however as he could only laugh. Sunstreaker snatched the youngest out of the air as he jumped, only to be kicked in the face, landing hard on his back. He smirked, rubbing his jaw as he sat up, catching Sideswipe lock his horns with Comet, who’s small underdeveloped rack hardly caught the larger. Let alone overpower them. A nervous smile etched itself onto Comet’s face when he realised his mistake, “Hi Sides.”

“Sup Com.” Sideswipe tossed the younger mech with a sharp snap of his head, sending Comet sprawling. 

Cometeater grunted as the air was knocked from his lungs,  though the fast pace of his heart and the fun of their game numbed any and all discomfort it might have caused. He didn’t get a chance to get up before a pair of shadows loomed. A large servo pinned him with ease as Cometeater tried to catch his breath grinning brightly at Sideswipe. The red mech was crouched over him, looking bright and the happiest he’d seen him in days. Comet’s smile grew at the sight. Sideswipe laughed, shaking his helm at the expression, “You creepy fragger.” 

Sideswipe got up and offered a hand with a bright smile, “You just gonna stay down there?” Comet huffed, took his hand and was easily hauled up.

Sunstreaker had a warmth in his optics as he lightly shoved down Comet’s helm, brotherly affection bubbling from the gesture. “You sneaky fragger.” Comet only smiled, and shook himself off. Sunstreaker groaned at the shower of dust now coating them both, Sideswipe smirked and turned for the base.

“You know that just means he’s gonna pin you down and make you green again right?” Comet stiffened as the servo returned to his helm and began to steer them back towards the base.  Sunstreaker had a malicious grin as the younger mech began to make his case that he was fine, and no wash racks were needed.

[quibble-auk]

Okay. Just hear me out. Another OC voice claim. I’m not sold on this voice for him but I feel like it’s close? I sketched it out to see if that changed anything and…. I still have no idea.

What if Jeopardy sounded like Troy from community

There is another OC in here, they are not mine.

That is Cometeater and they belong to @thebrokenmechanicalpencil I just thought it would be fun to doodle them in here too.

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

Empty

(I don't know if I like this, I may come back and edit it, but meh. @quibble-auk because why not. )

Tw. Gore, cannibalism, violence. Bad feelings all around

-------------------------------------------------

Comet had not eaten.

His bones ached.

With every step a joint cried out.

His mind was eating itself.

He could feel it.

Cometeater didn’t speak as he slipped from Jazz’s side to scout along the edge of the ridge. He didn’t allow himself to say goodbye to his brothers when he had left them. Comet had not been able to sleep in the room with them the past two nights before, his mouth thick with saliva and teeth itching to dip into their chests. 

Comet would apologize later.

Once words came back.

They had fled his mind in the past few hours. His brain devoured what it could grip to sate itself. Not to mention his tongue felt too large in his mouth to form words, he found that listening to Jazz made him want to let it fall out. Let slither out and get between the cracks of the mech's white armor. Comet wasn't ashamed to admit he planned to kill Jazz a hundred different ways. Comet knew he would be, once his madness passed. But his mouth had still watered over the thoughts. He could rip off the layers of armor one by one, pinning the mech with his tail. Rip out his throat so he would have enough time to get to his core before it went out. A dead spark meant he had failed. His meal would be gone.

A surge of instinctual frustration overwhelmed him over the very idea of losing a spark. Of that warm ball of light going out before he could swallow. Of being empty. 

Cometeater crossed the ridge when his nose caught the scent, he went off course with ease. 

Jazz is lucky Comet had enough self control to not gut him on the transport.

He can deal with Comet being late.

Silently and on the edge of a hunger induced trance, Comet followed the trail left by the spark. He scented once or twice but the hunger kept him on track at a record speed. He had no time to waste. His stomach clenched emptily and his cells howled for food as he got closer, his innards punishing him for his lack. It would not be long now. An old piece of him murmured. 

He jumped a rock and continued down the path now on all fours. With every step the part of him his brother’s loved, the one who had a name grew quieter. The hunger swallowed him up. 

 And Comet let it .

-

Within the canyon was a patrol. Armed and stalking along the border line of the outer perimeter of the base. Their red optics darted as they felt their armor rise. 

Deep in their coding something went off. 

In every organism alive is the rusty instinct of knowing your being watched. The gazes can range between that of a lover's look, one that warms you to the core. Or the anxiety ridden tingle in the back of your mind that whispers. That murmurs. It strikes your nerves and stiffens your spine. It deadens.

Both bots felt it. They slowly looked at eachother, coms activating. One opened his mouth. Neither bot said a word.

Comet sank his teeth into the wiry flesh of the mech as he dragged him away from the path. The second mech hanging to be dealt with at a later time. 

He dropped his meal without thought, a slightest trickle of energon staining the ground beneath the mech. Comet had learned long ago to sever the lines in the joints of the large mechs when he took them down. Not that he was thinking critically at the moment. Deep in the haze of a starving man.

Comet shook his helm at the taste. It was awful, his mouth caked with coolant and the other less edible fluids a cybertronian had in their veins. The energon wasn’t good either, it numbed his mouth and made his innards squirm. But Comet pushed past it as he dug inside the mech's chest, cracking him open with his long claws breaking the seams of his armor. 

The mech screamed.

Comet jerked his head, animalistic agitation rising at the noise. Half buried in the mech's internals and covered in energon, the pretender crept back up along the open wound. The mech let out frantic screams of pain, twitching and sobbing pathetically under Comet as he watched for a moment.

An ugly sneer mutilated the pretender’s face as the mech continued to make noise.

 Hunger urged him on, as he slapped a clawed hand over the mech's face plate and worked his claws to the soft underpart of the mech’s chin. As if sensing the oncoming action the begging grew worse, frantic hoarse sobs for mercy.

Numb with the need for food Comet didn’t register the sobs, only noises that could cause him harm. Comet’s claws pricked just behind the chin and dug. Up through the underside of the mech’s mouth, Comet got a good hold on his jaw from the inside. His palm on the mech’s chin, his other clawed hand bracing himself on the mech’s purple helm. Comet pulled down and out.

With a sickening pop and a garbled scream, Comet held the mech’s lower jaw in his hand. 

He dropped it with a hiss and began his work again, not to be interrupted by the mech who was now stiff with shock. His frame shutting down to protect itself against any further trauma.

Drool clung in thick clumps to Comets mouth, as he ripped and tore the inside of the heavy mech apart. He could smell the soft hum of his prey beneath the thick wires. A moment more of digging and Comet hissed with pleasure at the sight of the mech’s spark chamber, his stomach vulgarly twisting with need.

He began to skin the spark with practiced precision.  Quickly tearing away the delicate outer shell of the mech’s heart. Said mech jerked to life as Comet finally made it to the home stretch of dressing his meal. The mangled cybertronian cried out in bellowed sobs as Comet unhinged his jaw.

Saliva poured from his mouth as he bit down.

The mech let out an agonized animalistic screech.

Cometeater could taste the mech’s fear. It bit and tore at him as he swallowed, he could taste the mech’s name. Blackrim. He had a lover that would never see him again. Blackrim had been a guardian. He wanted to love and have a family with the spark waiting for him. 

Blackrim hated Comet. 

Comet felt his senses return in a cold splash as he felt that sharp emotion slap him. Comet sobbed in surprise, tears starting before he could stop it.

 The mech finally died in Comet’s stomach. But the taste of hatred and disgust still lingered on his tongue.

Comet’s own disgust joined in the growing pit of loathing.

Cometeater stared at his handiwork in a numbed horror, the hunger leaving him ever so slowly. With a spark to digest, it threw up Comet’s clarity, in long painful retches.

Comet swallowed shakily and stood, panting as the need to just lay down and cry overwhelmed him. Comet knew one day he wouldn’t be able to swallow. That the pain he caused would be too much. He wished he could eat something else, that he didn’t have to have those mech’s names etched into his brain with every bite.

Comet winced as the greedy cramps began again, his already weak body demanding more. Whimpering and forcing his back straight he dragged the mech firmly under a formation of melted metal, and climbed to reach his second course.

Guilt didn’t eliminate the hunger as he started the process on the other mech. He tried to be quick, not that he ever took his time. But he quickly deadened the mech with some well placed rips of his claws, severing the lines for information collection deep in the mech’s joints. He cut the ones on his back as well, something in his madness he didn’t do the first time.

With a deep heavy sigh, Comet bit down.

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

( @quibble-auk Just a thought.)

-

Comet had opened his eyes on the beach.

Not his beach from back a thousand life times ago, but a beach he knew from passing maybe once or twice back in that time. The obsidian cliffs in the distance tall and sharp, this stretch of sand sitting in rings around his old plateaus. 

The sand was thick and warm, the sun bright and glowing.

Comet had opened his eyes on that beach.

He couldn’t remember why he was there, or even how he had gotten to the stretch of white in the first place. Yet he felt no fear. No panic frightened him as he sat on that beach, something in his chest saying everything was as it should be.

 Cometeater allowed the soft sun to warm his flesh, as he watched the green tinted waves lap the smooth sand.

He eventually stood, almost giggling as the sand moved beneath his feet. An old childlike wonder shifted across his flesh as he hopped to the sturdier sand, it having been firmed up by the ocean’s licks.

The sky stretched on, the tealish blue cloudless and wide. The plateaus large mountains out of the sea. Comet walked with no real purpose, enjoying the warmth of his old sun like a friend he had not spoken to in far too long.

That sun wasn't as harsh as the one on Cybertron, Comet idly thought as he spotted a figure farther down the beach. 

Comet narrowed his eyes against the glare of the sand, unable to make out many details. No panic flared in his heart however. So he just continued, breathing deeply to catch the salt and other old smells as he went.

Slowly he grew close enough to the figure out in the distance that he could make out some sort of silhouette. 

Each step seemed to grow easier as he went, and the features grew more apparent.

Comet’s heart began to race as he slowed, the first hint of something other than contentment entering his mind. The figure was large and broad shouldered, he was looking out past the sea as if waiting for someone and it was the only thing to watch as he did so.

Cometeater drew a shaky breath, rubbing his eyes as he blinked and tried to make sense of what he saw. His heart throbbed with hope. Soon he started walking again, trembling even in the soft glow of the sun above him.

Comet froze when he was within a couple yards of the figure, who wore a soft expression. Bright cold optics tracing the sea and thick sharp digits tapping a tune on his arm.

The pretender couldn't move as he stared at the mech, tears burning his eyes as he rubbed them. Hope throbbed in his chest as he took another shaky breath.

That hope is what made his feet move forward.

He took another couple steps, before utterly coming to another halt. A sob choked his throat, Comet suddenly felt like a child once more.

The mech turned slightly and smiled warmly at the trembling pretender, his face softer and younger than the last time Comet had seen him.

His large frame unscarred, extra armor gone. He looked like he did back when Cometeater had first seen him as a cub, but different.

Those soft optics were warm and gentle, so familiar it hurt, Comet took another hesitant step forward.

The mech chuckled, a deep noise that had Comet coming to a stop once more.  “You were always timid Ino, didn’t think that would change.”

Comet took another shaky breath, tears now flowing. He decided to take the risk, the hope too much to bear.

“Dropmix?”

The hope and unsteadiness in his voice made the gladiator soften, his optics warming in a light Comet had not seen in eons. 

“Yeah Comet, its me.”

The pretender stumbled, he choked on another sob when he collided with the mech. Warm arms hugged him tightly, soft gentle chuffs rumbling from the mech as he sat on the ground to better hold the other.

“Im dreaming I have to be.” Is all Cometeater could get past his sobs, pressing his face into the other’s neck. Dropmix only smiled snuggling the pretender tight to him as though he was still a child.

“You're not, promise. I'm here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Dropmix’s voice lilted with emotion on the last sentence, hugging the pretender tighter as if to make up for the one they didn’t get to have.

“I missed you so much, I missed you so so much.” Each word was kindled with a shake, Dropmix’s large sharp hands moved in soft circles as he soothed the mech in his lap. “I missed you too, Primus I really did Comet.” His deep voice was raw, aching with an odd tinge that had Comet snuggling closer to him.  The two held one another as though afraid Dropmix would have to leave at any moment, that Comet would have to watch him go.

Slowly the tears subsided, as Dropmix bucked his helm to gently press against Comet’s. The pretender took a deep shuttery breath as those large sharp hands cradled his face. Thumbing the tears away as Comet whimpered again. Like a child, though Dropmix couldn’t seem to care less. He returned the noise with a chuff, nuzzling the pretender with a soft chuckle.

Comet returned the tenderness with his own, chuckling slightly at the chirp that slipped from his throat. The shock had began to slip away, dripping and seeping into the sand as Comet held Dropmix’s face and beamed.

“Your here.”

Dropmix laughed, pressing into the organic’s hands, sharp large fangs glinting in the light.

“Im here.” The amused rumble had Comet laughing again, throwing his arms tight around the mech. Dropmix chuckled again, his strong arms tight on Comet’s back.  Neither moved for a while, melting into the embrace. It had been so long since they had held one another.

Eventually Comet pulled back again, his smile slightly dampened. He didn’t leave the mech’s lap by any means, but Dropmix kept a firm hand on his back.

“..Dropmix..How?” It was a soft whisper, the midnight mech’s own face darkening as the pretender slowly looked around. He didn’t say a word, rubbing the mech’s back softly. He clenched his jaw tight, pain lurking beyond the love and warmth.

For a few minutes they sat together, Comet slowly winding his thoughts up into a neat spool. His breath hitched, Dropmix took a deep breath, never stopping the circles on the green mech’s back.

“Oh Dropmix..You're dead.” It was said bluntly, a whisper of a thought. 

Dropmix only watched, his face familiar but so much softer then when Comet had seen him for the last time. Dead and stiff on a berth with Jeopardy curled tight over him.

The scent of death was nowhere to be found here, Dropmix smelt clean and cold. 

Comet closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

“Oh.”

The old gladiator let out a deep sigh, gently nodding but never averting his eyes. Which were the same, deep and bright.

“I knew you’d get it, took me a minute too.”

Comet slowly leaned back to sit against Dropmix, his thinly armored chest warm and inviting as he mulled over the last few memories he could. Dropmix allowed him that, running a thumb down his arm in a gesture of comfort. His face soft.

They sat there for a while, the sun never setting and the waves still lapping. Dropmix silently guarded him as he brooded.

Comet wasn’t angry, he had to be honest he wasn’t surprised. He slowly flipped the memories over and understood with the same casualness of noticing the signs of a storm. Then hearing the patter of rain on the roof.

He looked up, pulling away to look Dropmix in the optics. He watched Comet softly, neutral but not cold in the slightest.

“Why..” He didn't have to finish the thought, Dropmix smiled a soft bittersweet smile. 

“I came to get you,” The mech shrugged a youthful smile flashing across his canines, now sharp and nowhere close to the blunt teeth Comet saw last. “I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you.” It was shyly spoken, he finally averted his eyes and shrugged again, voice still gruff.

Comet felt himself grin, the melancholy still there but now a little less pungent. He nudged his mentor softly, taking his face in his hands, “You're gonna walk with me?”

Dropmix then grinned a grin, it was an excited smile that had Comet’s heart leaping. “Not just walking, I have somebody who’s losing his fragging mind ready to meet you.”

“So..” Comet blinked again, a fear slowly inching up and stealing his smile. Dropmix frowned his own clawed hands moving to cradle Comet’s face once more. “You won't say goodbye right? You're not gonna leave again?”

Dropmix growled softly, “I said I wasn’t going anywhere Ino,” He pressed their foreheads together ever so softly. “I'm not going to say goodbye to you ever again, I'm here.”

Comet pressed back with a deep breath, smiling past his tears. 

“Ok, when do we go?”

Dropmix grinned brightly, tugging the mech up with speed and grace. His movements fluid, not a wince or grumble. Comet grinned at the sight, allowing his hand to be caught in the large paw of the gladiator.

“Whenever you get ready kid. Though your not a kid anymore are you, fraggin old man.” His optics sparked with amusement as he looked the pretender over, who now looked the same as he did when Dropmix left him and the rest of his family. 

Comet rolled his eyes, tightening his grip on Dropmix’s hand. “I didn’t beat you, you're old as dirt.”

The mech chuckled, slowly leading Comet along the beach. “You got pretty damn close.”

“Yeah, up fragging yours grandpa.”

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

@quibble-auk

Concepts for the boy in the Custody Au and how his stripes form, I had to dig out those references for Dropmix you gave me so I could figure out the placement of the reds. Sadly Comet never really gets his bright green back, he's stuck that pale color.

But he gets all these stripes! Look at him, he's so handsome. Him and his blanket scarf. I was sorta worried about his colors and helm getting too busy, but I think this is ok.

I was just sitting there giggling over Dropmix being shocked, yes sir this child adores you. Then I get all giddy over all the other aspects of this old man being loved, war criminal bits or not. That has got to feel great I totally agree with you, this kid has seen him do awful things, but feels safe and wants to be his. Ugh the feels.

I may add some more red pieces in a full body reference but this is it. Im liking it.

Our conversation sparked the need for fluff, I have no idea if Im gonna do it but the craving is back again.

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

Warmth

(@quibble-auk I took your advice, have fluff. The twins and comet just being together, mentions of cannibalism but with Com that's..Well that's a given. Maybe this isn't too out of character for them.)

Sunstreaker couldn't move.

Neither could Sideswipe.

Both were utterly and completely trapped.

Sunstreaker winced at the ache in his neck, which had been only steadily growing since he reactivated. Sideswipe was however, in far worse straits. The creature who held them captive had latched onto his arm, making it so the mech couldn't even let his limb relax. Stretched at an odd angle, Sideswipe could only stare up at the ceiling, even moving his helm would disturb his captor. They needed to get up though. Neither of them had any of their armor prepped, refueled, or even stretched. That along with needing to get checked out with a medic before the fight, that they were supposed to have already gotten up and done the aforementioned to prepare for. As the minutes had ticked by, they got closer and closer to being late. So as a calculated risk, slowly Sunstreaker tried another time to extract himself from under the small weight planted on his chest. Warnings went off as the little thing grunted softly at the movement. ‘Quit! You're gonna wake him!’ Over the bond Sideswipe almost jabbed his twin with the thought, ‘We have to get ready Sides,’ Sunstreaker glared past Comet’s helm. ‘He’ll have to fraggin get up when-’ the line of thought halted as their small charge snuggled closer to Sunstreaker’s chest, which was at the moment free of its heavy plating and warm with the hum of his spark. Comet always liked laying there because of it. Neither moved as the youngest sighed deeply. Another minute slipped past. Sideswipe sent a shove over the bond, ‘Which one would you rather deal with? Waking him up, or dealing with a pissed off medic?’ Was it bad that Sunstreaker had to actually think about it? If he had to be honest we would rather stay cooped up with his small family in their berthroom all day, the medics could shove it. Realistically however, he knew that would probably get all of them in severe trouble. Tied to a post type of trouble. Sideswipe sighed, catching wind of Sunstreaker’s train of thought. But neither of the gladiators moved to shake off their sleeping third. 

Sideswipe crimped up and held hostage, noticed that his inner workings didn't even flare at the thought of a brawl, if anything he felt himself stiffen in dislike.  Even so, both exchanged knowing looks, their internal clocks letting them know they had to get up, now.  With much internal debate, Sideswipe was elected to pull away from the warmth first. Gently he moved his arm out from under Comet’s small claws. He winced when the said organic clung on with a sleepy growl. Sideswipe felt his spark purr at the sight of the sleepy youngling however. Them discovering how long it took the little organic to wake up had led to plenty of mornings inwardly cooing over his slow dopey chirps. This time however they had no time to enjoy his overly sweet disposition.  “Cmon coms, you gotta get up.” Sideswipe immediately missed the soft warmth of his charge as the little thing growled and flopped back onto his golden twin, who to his own credit did not show he was enjoying the creature’s tired antics. “Sunny isn’t gonna save you, cmon.” As Sideswipe relished in the ability to move his shoulder, Sunstreaker slowly sat up. Comet slid a little ways down into his lap, letting out a tired yawn. “Nuhh.” His fangs flashed in the light as Sideswipe got up. The golden twin however took a moment to nuzzle his younger brother, his large armored helm gently butting the youngest. Who was lazily trying to curl back up that very moment, “Don't start Com.” Sunstreaker forced himself to start to stand. Comet was left on the berth growling testily as both twins readied their armor. A little faster than normal they went about the routine, both helping each other with the catches and making sure the plating sat properly. Comet rubbed his eyes and yawned again, just as both mechs finished.

They exchanged glances when the little green mech scowled at them both. Still obviously sleepy. Sunstreaker muffled a chuckle as he went over his armor one final time for scratches. Behind him Sideswipe started to poke at Comet forcing him off the berth. Comet landed softly, shaking himself off and stretching his back with a groan. With both twins ready and Comet finally acting like a living thing, they slipped out the door. 

It didn't take long for Comet to perk up, the smells of the inner workings of the pits always put him on edge. He slowly began to look around and huff at the passersby as the trio made its way to the energon dispenser. Tucked in a large room and filled to the brim with Gladiators preparing themselves for a day in the arena. Some glanced and glared as the boys passed by, but most went about their business not caring about them. Once Comet would receive snarls and plenty of barbs, but now with his own status and being with the twins firmly secured, he was met with no animosity. Comet however still didn't enjoy the refueling hall.

Now fully awake, Comet was stiff and kept himself firmly between the twins. Neither of his brothers gave him more than a glance however. Weakness wasn’t tolerated in the pits of Kaon, neither brother would risk a comforting gesture with so many in the vicinity. Though with Comets stature and overall build, weakness was once not far behind.

Comet eater was small, thin and gangly. He maybe reached his brother’s stomachs, who were already on the small side for the arena’s rack of gladiators. In the ring however he had settled himself for a title. Comet, while exceedingly small, was associated with the terms “Blood thirsty” “Barbaric” and one that hit almost too close to home,“Spark hungry.” No one would forget Comet’s stunt of swallowing Trench’s spark. Many thought the young mech was an escaped experiment, a cannibalistic malfunction. Around the rumor mill he had gone. No one however even guessed he was just a child with odd eating habits. Said child wrinkled his faceplate at the smell of the energon within the twin’s cubes. “That stuff smells awful.” Sideswipe allowed himself to smirk down at the youngling, now in a more private part of the hall they were all a little more relaxed. Sunstreaker rolled his optics as he sat down beside them, “You always gotta fraggin complain don't you?” The mech said it with an amused tilt. “Like you have any room Sunny, you're the one who picks through paint colors complaining for almost an hour every time you get a fraggin scratch!” The tired grumpiness had shoved its way in it seemed. Sunstreaker only smirked as Sideswipe surveyed the hall hiding his laughter.

“It takes a lot to look this good, unlike you, people will notice if I look like a wreck.”

[quibble-auk]

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

I finally finished the little blurb with Echo and Cometeater. Idk if I got your guy right in this, I just kinda winged it. I swear Echo isn’t usually this awkward, but he’s kinda still messed up and Comet is not helping.

Anyway. I want them to be friends, or at least friendly, but you can tell me if I’m wrong. That may just be me… but of everyone on the base (other than my medics) I feel like these two could chill.

The start is… idk it’s something. I was struggling with how to start it tbh. I gave up. Same with the end.

—

Echo didn’t really know what to do while he waited. Dropmix was supposed to be doing some more tests on his doorwing sensors to make sure everything was healing right but the medic was preoccupied. Even though Echo had previously scheduled the appointment he had been brushed off in favor of treating the mechs that had just come back after getting caught in a minefield—which he had no issue with. He despised having to come down to the medical bay.

Especially when Leoblast wasn’t able to come down with him.

It was nothing against Dropmix or Jeopardy—the older was gentle and kind, and the younger was sweet and innocent—he just simply didn’t like the medical bay. Not after the incident with Sunrazor. He had spent plenty of time in the medical bay both during the ordeal and afterwards. But he had to come get screened, again, just in case for whatever reason things weren’t healing properly.

Usually, Leoblast had always been willing to come down with him to keep him company, however the guardian was off on a patrol. So, Echo would just have to deal with sitting in the sterile room by himself for the time being.

Well, almost by himself.

Jeopardy had sat down a bot cloaked in a blue blanket when he stormed through. He hadn’t been able to offer much introduction, preoccupied with gathering supplies for Dropmix and unfortunate mechs who had detonated the landmines. He had muttered a frantic introduction before explaining to the smaller mech that he couldn’t go with Jeopardy into surgery. Echo hadn’t been able to hear if the mass of blue ever responded.

But the other mech in the room had yet to say anything and Echo would rather not bother him for the time being. Maybe if he was in a better mood he may have been able to muster up a joke or two to try and break the ice, but today he wasn’t up for it. He hadn’t been up to pulling a prank or messing around in awhile, Leo was starting to get worried.

Echo stared down at his fidgeting hands, doorwings flicking behind him as he hunched over in his seat. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft hiss of the medbay's ventilation and the low lulling of soft music that was ever present. Echo’s fingers tapped a twitchy rhythm against his knee as he stole a glance toward the other mech.

Cometeater.

That’s what Jeopardy had called him, right before disappearing behind the surgical doors with a tray of energon packs balanced in his arms. The name didn’t quite match the mech’s current state—bundled tightly in a blue blanket, helm bowed, and posture almost painfully small for someone with such an intimidating designation.

Echo’s doorwings twitched again. He hated awkward silence. It pressed into the back of his processor, static loud and itchy. The pale green mech clearly wasn’t in good shape either—so what was the harm in saying something? Even if Echo didn’t feel like talking, maybe a word or two would help pass the time. Distract both of them.

“It’s um… Cometeater right?” The Praxian began, tilting his head towards the other, “I’m Echo, Jeopardy introduced us a bit ago but…” He trailed off, where was he going? He smiled and laughed nervously, readjusting his posture. He wanted to kick himself, he used to be good at things like this. “We haven’t gotten a formal introduction I guess.”

Cometeater didn’t respond at first—not with words, anyway. The bundle of blanket shifted slightly, as though startled that someone had decided to speak to him at all. He blinked at Echo, eyes sizing him up for just a moment before he responded. The younger mech's voice was soft. Not shy, exactly—closer to something cautious. Carefully rationed. “Yeah… it’s Cometeater.”

Echo gave a small nod, eyes flicking to the floor again. “That’s… a name,” he said with a half-laugh, before wincing. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I just—Cometeater. It sounds… I dunno. Intense?”

The other mech just shrugged blankly. He really wasn’t giving Echo much to work with here. The sharpshooter smiled, trying to remain friendly despite the unease that was crawling through him. There was something about the way that Comet watched him that was unsettling.

The Praxian cleared his throat, trying to brush off the static curling at the back of his mind. “So, uh… are you from around here?” he asked, gesturing vaguely. “Base-wise, I mean. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Another pause. Then, softly, “No.”

Echo waited, thinking there might be more, but that was apparently the whole statement. “Cool,” he said anyway, stretching the word out like it might fill the gap in conversation. “Got transferred here recently? I haven’t really been keeping up with the gossip on base recently, maybe I missed your arrival?”

Cometeater just stared blankly at him more, not a single tell on his face. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. The silence stretched on long enough that Echo was starting to believe that the other wasn’t planning on responding at all when they finally spoke again. Cometeater shrugged again and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “It’s complicated.”

When someone said something like “it's complicated” it was a very clear message to drop it. So Echo did. He nodded along, wing twitching slightly.

“…Yeah. I get that,” Echo said quietly, rubbing his thumb against his fingertips, fidgeting again. He didn’t push for more. He knew how much it sucked when people did that—asking questions like they had a right to your trauma just because they were curious. He wouldn’t be that guy.

He let the silence settle again. This time, it didn’t feel quite so suffocating.

Cometeater shifted a little beside him, drawing the blanket tighter like it might shield him from the room, the war, the universe. His eyes weren’t on Echo anymore, instead fixed on a spot near the door, far off and vacant. The Praxian could see the mech’s clawed hands working at the hem of the blanket, tugging at the seams mindlessly. He would destroy the blanket if he kept doing that for too long.

Still, Echo didn’t press. Instead, he leaned back in his chair again and let his gaze wander the ceiling, counting faint cracks in the paneling that he’d memorized from past visits. After a few minutes passed like that, Echo tried again. Not with words, but with something simpler.

He reached into one of the little compartments on his hip, fumbling for a moment before pulling out a tiny hex-shaped stress puck. Tempestrift had given it to him when they were still just getting to know each other—a little comfort thing, something he could squeeze or flick or spin when his processor started spiraling or he got antsy while waiting for a target. Just something simple to forget or play with.

It was meant to be provide him with something to do to keep him from losing his mind with the endless amounts of waiting he was always doing.

The blue mech stared at it for a moment in his palm, then tilted it slightly toward Cometeater. “You want it?”

The younger mech looked over at him slowly. Didn’t take it. Didn’t reject it, either.

“I, uh… I know what it’s like,” Echo added, his voice a bit rougher now. “Sitting in here and feeling like your plating’s gonna peel off if you don’t do something. Even if it’s dumb. Even if it’s just a stupid toy.”

He tried to smile. It didn’t really land. His fingers absently flexed around the small fidget toy, his wings flicking uncertainty as he forced himself to remain still. After another beat of silence he slowly retracted his hand, heel bouncing on the ground as he looked away, “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it. Just… Figured it would help.”

Echo couldn’t help but look at the edge of the blanket again, where a seam had already come loose. Cometeater slowly followed his gaze down, eyes widening when he looked at the minimal damage done to the fabric. For a moment, Cometeater just stared at the frayed edge—like he’d only just realized he was the one unraveling it. His claws froze, stiff with guilt. Then, carefully, he folded them into his lap. Not tightly. Not clenched. Just… still. A small effort, but Echo could tell it took some control.

“…Sorry,” Cometeater mumbled, voice barely audible. His optics stayed on the blanket. “I didn’t mean to.”

Echo waved the apology off with a flick of his wrist, smiling sympathetically. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not even torn yet. You don’t have to apologize. You’re fine,” He hesitated, leg still bouncing. “I used to pick at my own paint when I got bored, or I’d start to carve little notches into my gun. So at least with the blanket you’ll be spared a lecture on abusing equipment from Rumbleclutch.”

Cometeater didn’t smile or laugh at the sad attempt to lighten the mood.

The blue mech looked down at the puck he held, debating if he had made the right call or just blown this entire attempt to converse. He decided to focus on the small toy in his hand rather than his failed joke, smile falling.

The small puck that he had was far from anything fancy or nice. The paint had long since been stripped and it was notched and scratched, but so was everything since the war had started. Finding small toys like that had become rarer and rarer, but Tempestrift had gotten him nicer ones since then, he really didn’t need this one anymore.

He tried to offer it again, “You don’t have to take it, but I do have others if that’s what you're worried about. And it’ll help the blanket last longer.”

Cometeater looked at the puck again. This time, for a little longer. He didn’t reach for it, but something in his expression flickered—like a radio signal almost coming through, then fizzling back into static. His claws twitched slightly, and he shifted in his seat again, less like he was trying to disappear and more like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to exist in the space.

Eventually, with hesitant, almost mechanical motion, he extended one hand from the safety of the blanket and took the puck.

Not quite from Echo’s palm, not quite directly either. He scooped it more than he grabbed it, like it might burn him if he touched it wrong. Once it was in his hand, he immediately turned it over, claws tracing the worn edges and the uneven grooves. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes stayed fixed on it, brows furrowing just slightly.

Echo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, wings settling just a little lower on his back. “Yeah,” he said softly, “it’s ugly, but it does the trick.”

Cometeater didn’t answer, but he didn’t let go of it either.

The music playing overhead shifted to something slower, almost mournful. Echo didn’t recognize the track, which probably meant Dropmix had added new music again when no one was looking. There was always something kind tucked into the playlists—old frequencies of home, long-lost Cybertronian lullabies, distant echoes of a world that didn’t exist anymore.

That was another reason why Echo hadn’t been fond of the medical bay. Not only did it mean he had to sit still and wait patiently but it carried a weight. Sure, people were healed here, but so many were lost as well. The music that was meant to soothe could easily become too reminiscent of what everyone had lost.

His leg continued to bounce as he waited, after a moment of glaring at it from beneath his blue visor he managed to get it to stop. Instead he ended up fidgeting with his fingers, running his fingers over his thumb over and over as he waited. He hated waiting. Waiting for a target, for his team to respond, for someone to come rescue him, or for medical attention. It made his thoughts way too loud, then he would get distracted and people would get upset.

But sitting still and doing nothing had always made his plating itch. That was nothing new, it wasn’t somethin he had picked up from his time with Sunrazor—unlike his inability to have a solid conversation with someone. Echo had always needed to do something, otherwise it drove him crazy. Both Rumbleclutch and Leoblast argued that his inability to do nothing was why he was always getting trouble. Tempestrift said it made him reckless but fun to be around, made him more spontaneous.

Echo missed Tempestrift.

The door hissed open suddenly, pulling the blue mech out of his own thoughts. Echo’s doorwings snapped taut for a second before settling again when he saw it was just Jeopardy—the young medic’s expression taunt as he moved through the entrance with a datapad tucked under one arm, some smudged energon drying on his plating.

“Sorry for the delay,” the medic said, a little breathless. “Dropmix is still busy trying to resync someone’s fuel pump, but I can take you back, Echo.”

The sharpshooter blinked, stood slowly. His joints cracked louder than he liked. “Oh, yeah it was no problem, I didn’t mind waiting.”

He really shouldn’t lie to Jeopardy, but he hated to see the younger mech so distraught. Echo really didn’t care who saw him, it was the same either way. Despite what Jeopardy thought he often provided just as good of care as the more experienced Dropmix. He didn’t give himself credit. Echo smiled as he rolled his shoulders, wings flicking as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Jeopardy gave a warm glance to Cometeater, Echo could see something more solemn in his gaze though. “I’ll be back in just a moment, this shouldn’t take too long”

Cometeater didn’t answer, but he didn’t shrink either. Just curled the puck a little tighter into his palm and gave a small nod. That was enough for Jeopardy. The medic looked back at Echo and motioned to the open door he stood in front of. Cometeater looked up at Echo as he began to walk away, eyes widening as his hands clenched around the small puck.

Echo hesitated. Then looked back down at the green mech. He didn’t need that one anymore, Tempestrift had given him other ones, it still didn’t mean some part of him fought against parting with it. “You can keep it,” he said, nodding at the puck. He smiled, “You might find another use for it besides destroying perfectly good blankets.”

Cometeater blinked up at him, empty eyes looking over Echo once more before turning back to the object in his hold.

Echo hadn’t managed to learn much but he had confirmed one thing from the conversation. The pale green mech that had been following Jeopardy around for the past couple of weeks was an odd bot, but not a bad one.

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

What Jeopardy sees, versus what the rest of the base sees.

He knows his friend.

@quibble-auk

Custody Au

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

( @quibble-auk I can't tell if I like this, or the way it went. It creates even more problems but eh. Comet once again took over. Maybe I'm close with Dropmix in this, I have no idea. Maybe the pacing is ok, again I have no idea.) (Im going to reread this again and see if it needs to be reworked. Here I am spamming fluff at you and then posting this.)

Tw. Allusions to self harm, grief.

-

It was too quiet. Horrifically, unnaturally so.

In the bare room he laid nesting in the blanket, the echoes of his thoughts bouncing off the white walls. They would drift back in tidal motions, slowly circling his skull and reappearing in a dark rhythm.

Comet clenched his jaw as he mulled over what the medic had said, that the mech had even sought him out. It was better than sitting with those other thoughts, something to distract him from the aching emptiness in his chest.

Pale and bland he stared blankly at the door, counting the screws as he turned the one sided conversation over in his mind.

Never in his life did he think Dropmix would ever enter his room with a peaceful air again, that forced relaxed expression had not made its appearance this time however.

No, the olive branch was no olive branch, no threats hidden beneath gestures. Just Dropmix being honest, which was more likely that it was a lie. That Dropmix had no idea what pain constricted Comet’s chest, the old medic had no idea what he was rambling about.

But he could feel it, that it wasn’t a thrown up splice of comforting words.

Even as out of socket his mind was, Cometeater could see that whatever Dropmix was doing when he sat in that chair wasn’t an act. Not a complete one. Those tense shoulders, slight twitches of his eyes. The way he seemed to be forcing the words out.

No false gentleness, none of his smooth lies. 

Comet absently rubbed his chest, claws glancing off his pendant firm above his heart. It was cool, but it almost pulsed with his heartbeat if he let the tips of his finger rest there. He had designed it after he saw the sparks in a cybertronian’s chest, not knowing what it was he allowed it to form.

Now he wondered idly why he hadn’t ever absorbed it, pulled it back in and re-configured his chest so it was more natural. More like what he was pretending to be.

In the silence of the room his mind would continue to wander in that fashion. Drifting from thought to thought, avoiding the whirlpool in the center.

Sometimes the mech would feel a twitch in his limbs, a slight effort to move. His heart would ache and he felt the need to maybe go find his friend and leave the blank room, slip away from the cagey backwater of his mind and maybe let himself focus.

He would slowly stand, weight feeling unnatural on his feet. With a stumbled step he would reach the door, and stand there. Blank and shakes beginning to crest his flesh his mind would begin to poison the innocent want to be near Jeopardy.

Comet would blink, pulling his hand back as the idea of the eyes clouded his mind.

Eyes that burn and ask questions. He tugged his gift tighter around his shoulders. Shame burned his face at the idea of embarrassing the larger mech..Because he couldn’t hold himself together.

Weak

Comet would then make his sorry way back to the berth and lay down. Tears did come, the guilt and shame tenderly tracing the lines of his face.

He sat in the cold room, feeling grimy and wrong in his flesh. Part of him begged to go and bathe, to relieve the itching of his skin.

Then he would be assaulted by images of Sunstreaker gently helping him, of him helping the gladiator back.

Comet almost bit back down on his arm, jaw extending and teeth unsheathing when the warm memories burned his mind.

A quick knock made him pause in the split second before his sabers could pierce the already abused muscle and bone.

Then the door opened.

Dropmix stood firmly in the doorway, optic cold and bright.

Comet flinched back, snatching his blanket tight around his shoulders and rubbing his eyes frantically. He winced at the horrible ache in the limb from the sudden jostling. The pretender snapped his eyes low as that shame buckled and broke any anger that tried to rear. 

The ex gladiator stared darkly from his position in the door frame, a box in his arms.  He ran that icy optic down Comet’s trembling form and seemed to be weighing something.

Comet could see it in the way those fingers repositioned on the box.

He took a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out before the large mech closed the door behind him. Fear shot through Comet’s hazy mind as he slowly pushed himself to be as far from the medic as possible.

Dropmix didn’t comment, those thick shoulders tense and his jaw a hard line beneath his plating. 

Cometeater tugged his only source of comfort tight around his shoulders, breathing in the warm soft scent of Jeopardy to keep himself from shaking too badly. 

It was a failure of course.

Dropmix seemed to stop and think for a moment, it felt like a knife to Comet’s throat when that intense eye pinned him.

It dug deep into him, Comet gave into the horrible feeling and turned his head away. It was too much, he had too much brewing for Dropmix to be allowed to root through. If only he could stop crying.

If you tore your stupid wet eyes out the tears would stop.

He winced at the horrible thought, forcing his attention back on the medic. Comet narrowed his eyes and forced himself to track the mech’s movements. To catalogue and tear apart the stiff twists of his hips, the way he narrowed his optic.

How it stayed perfectly even and blank.

He swallowed, as the mech heavily dragged a chair to the end of the berth, dropped it without much ceremony.  He snatched up the box, and sat down heavily.

Comet whimpered despite himself as he watched him.

Then Dropmix looked at him again, eye set and steely.

“Im going to make this easy for both of us Cometeater, make this painless.”

The steady tone did nothing to persuade Comet that this conversation would be anything close to painless. It was almost gentle, but that edge spoke more than any air of professionalism. With a sigh the mech leaned forward, the lines of his face almost looking older in the lights of the private room.

Comet had them on because Jeopardy left them on, he could see fine without the light. It helped keep his mind at bay though.

Both mechs stared at one another, Comet having no will to speak. Dropmix seemed to only stare harder, an irritated twitch to his eye.

“Jeopardy followed a blood trail to the roof, that means you injured yourself.” Again with that gentle tone, why couldn’t he drop it? Comet could obviously tell he didn’t want to be here.

“Show it to me.”

The final sentence was closer to an actual genuine medical request, he probably had to deal with hidden wounds before. Comet knew he had, why else would the mech have known almost a year ago that Cometeater had hurt his hip.

Dropmix was very good at his mutters, of his benign inflections. Nothing would tear away that steel in his gaze though, that cold and something Comet couldn’t name.

It took a second to realize that Dropmix was waiting on him, that Comet had been staring at the mech for ever a minute without response. Not that the mech had moved from his comfortable position, not that he had looked away or shown signs of impatience.

Comet spoke gravelly, his arm throbbing. “It was nothing, it healed up hours ago.”  Quick and curt, maybe enough for the medic to leave him alone.

Some part of Comet clung to the company, desperately wanting that door not to close and leave him desolate with his own mind.  Even if it was in the company of Dropmix.

He shoved that away as the medic huffed, his eye narrowing. “You saying ‘it was nothing’ is a load of slag, meaning there was something. And I need to see it.”

He was right, damn it. Comet frowned at his choice of wording, usually that would indicate that he yes he had a wound, that the wound was hardly worth the trouble of looking at. Better to half lie, and Dropmix knew that. The bastard of course knew his way past that type of dialogue.

Blunt and taking the scrap of truth hard in his hands.

Cometeater saw the flash of understanding, the way he flawlessly uprooted the sentence.

Damn it.

His breath shook as he forced another, Dropmix taking it as it was. A sign of weakness.

“It was enough of a ‘something’ that you bled from here to the roof,” He said softly, in that medical tone. Stating facts. “I just want to see it.”

Cometeater fought to hold in the instinctual growl, the idea of being that vulnerable about his wounds with the mech made him sick. Now it seemed like his instincts were screaming louder than ever.

He breathed deeply, ready to throw out a barb as that anger roared through him. Then a soft whisper started, his mind wandering back to the last time the dark mech was here. 

Comet clutched his chest, thoughts bleeding and messily sloshing in his skull. 

“Why do you care?”

Dropmix shifted, face unreadable. He sat thinking for a moment, in that amount of time Cometeater decided he was too hurt to deal with this.

Comet wished his mind was clear, then he could maybe defend himself. Maybe make some actual argument. Comet sighed, his chest deep with a tired feeling. He was in no mood for games, his brain couldn’t take it right now.

Without waiting for an answer Comet shifted closer to the medic and extended his arm. He didn’t look at the torn and bitten limb, guilt rolling in his stomach. Comet knew his brothers would be devastated if they saw it, he bit his tongue shoving away the horrible thoughts.

It doesn't matter now. 

Dropmix looked at the mangled limb, knowingly. Comet clenched his jaw and stared down at the bed beneath him, feeling dirty and off kilter.

Wordlessly the medic began to dress the wound, Comet winced hard when the mech gently held his arm. Dropmix snapped a look up at him, lingering as Comet choked back another chirp. He was no child, he just wished Dropmix would stop looking at him.

 Stop knowing.

“You damaged your two bones in your upper arm,” The large medic muttered softly after a few infuriatingly gentle touches “I'm going to have to brace it.” It was a matter of fact statement, no emotions or hurt colored those words. 

Why did it soothe that awful torrent in Comet’s mind? He wished he could bite down on something, he couldn’t believe he was allowing himself to fall for the mech’s tricks. To soften when he continued the examination gently, being careful of the cracked bones beneath the hide.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

Comet closed his eyes, clenching his jaw hard. Last time he had eaten the twins were waiting for him to come home, they held him when he stumbled back still shaken from his horrible meal. They had sat and read, tucked within a warm place.

“Cometeater.”

Dropmix’s voice was firm as it cut through the whirling thoughts, Comet sucked in a sharp breath. More of that shame tearing across his heart.

“Two months ago.” He felt his innards scream at the admission, at the wrongness of allowing the words to fall from his mouth.

The medic never paused, Cometeater listened quietly as the mech rummaged through the box he had brought. He took a slow moment to study the mech as he read labels and seemed to weigh options deep in his eye. Dropmix seemed to do that. 

Mapping every step when around the Pretender.

Comet hardly held in his hiss of pain when a bubble of disinfectant washed over the bite marks. He snapped a glare at the medic, who watched him unbothered by the bubbling and popping of the limb in his large hand. The mech looked even less bothered by the glare.

“An infection could take root if you don’t clean your wounds, self inflicted or not.” Comet bit his tongue at the blunt statement, “You know what that is right?” 

The pretender bit back a snarl at the tone, losing its gentle professionalism and laced with a breed of vulpine condescension that seemed to belong to Dropmix alone.

Comet vaguely remembered the term infection, he never had any trouble with its ilk. His body was not weak and did not allow visitors of any kind.

“Yes. I know what it is.” Cometeater almost let that snap enter his voice, feeling looked down upon. “I've never had a problem with it.” Take that you smug fragger.

Said smug fragger raised an eyebrow, a look of passive disbelief and more of him looking down his nose. He moved a once sharp finger to gesture down at the not so clear bubbles pouring out of Comet’s arm.

“This solution signals infections while clearing them,” That dull digit hovered above the ruddy foam. “They aren't white, that means you had bacteria beginning to infect the wounds. You were a couple hours from a severe infection, which can kill you.”

The last part was said in a deadpan fashion that grated Comet’s nerves, his thin rope burned patience straining. That didn’t change if what Dropmix was saying was true.

“I don’t get infections.” He growled, staring angrily at the medical supplies that seemed to heavily disagree. The foam was now, too gently being wiped away by the behemoth who was treating him.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Dropmix took a deep breath, those hands too tight on the cloth as he wiped the wound clean. “Organics get infections, you're more prone to succumbing to them when lacking in nutrients and proper materials to fight off the bacteria.” That optic landed on him pointedly.

The pretender narrowed his eyes and frowned, it had never been a problem before. Even when he didn’t eat the amount he knew he should.

Dropmix stared hard at him before grunting and continuing his work, “You bit your arm, obviously don’t deny it, that mouth of yours is probably crawling with microbes and other things that could cause one.” Comet almost flinched at the ever so slight undertone of something, it was very well hidden, but he caught the twitch of the medic’s mouth.

Comet didn’t want to know what the flash was, he had enough people who thought he was a disgusting animal. The only mechs who saw him past his organic traits enough to let him in their hearts are dead now.

Except Jeopardy. That thought soothed the sting, he breathed deeply. The young medic wasn’t afraid or disgusted by him. 

Unlike the one who ironically dabbed his wounds. 

“That means if you pull this stunt again,” The mech had something flash across his eye once more. Comet wished his brain was working properly, then maybe he would have been able to decipher it. “Come to me and let me clean it properly.” 

Cometeater stared at the mech for a moment, being met with a hard stare that dared the mech to argue. Comet took the low road and forced a nod. Dropmix only looked back down at his work, now working on closing the ragged gashes and cavities in the flesh of the pretender’s arm.

As the medic worked the patient tried to turn the medic’s angle around in his mind. He knew Dropmix despised him, he knew the large mech would never have agreed to let him stay. Let alone help him.

The only one who wanted him was Jeopardy. 

Dropmix’s only chained collar was the sweet dispositioned mech. Jeopardy had been trying to change his mind about Dropmix for months before…Now.

The ex gladiator was sweet on Jep, and Jep was the only thing Comet had right now. Jeopardy was the only reason Dropmix was letting him stay, Jeopardy cared about Comet.

It clicked, and for some reason it made a horrific jealousy spark in Comet’s chest. Jeopardy was Dropmix’s special person.  Gladiators would sometimes have them, Comet remembered from so long ago.

Like Comet had been Sunstreaker and Sideswipe’s.

He knew he should feel grateful that Dropmix was tolerating him, that Jeopardy apparently cared for him enough to go against Dropmix.  That Jep said he had loved him.

But it only hurt.

Made his eyes burn, his jaw clenched and he fought to hold himself together as Dropmix finished.

Because Jeopardy had his person.

Dropmix had Jeopardy.

Comet lost his.

They were gone.

He was alone.

He was an intruder.

Dropmix was disgusted by him and wanted him gone. Those soft gentle touches were lies. That kindness was false. 

Dropmix released his arm and Comet could vaguely feel something stiff along the cracked line of his limb. If Dropmix said anything Comet didn’t hear, he could feel his mind spinning out of control. Without seeing the medic Comet covered his head with his blanket and moved till he was far away from the ex-gladiator.

 He couldn’t force out a thank you if he wanted to, as that horrible anger mixed and spoiled with that jealousy.

Why would that lying murderer get to keep his, while Comet lost his brothers. 

Why would that horrible terrifying cold mech get sweet wonderful Jeopardy?

When Comet had lost his whole world? 

Comet couldn’t hold in the bitter jealous thoughts, though he knew they would eat him alive later.

He sat under the blanket as his mind spun.

After a couple minutes, the medic left without a word.

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

Close your eyes, I'm here.

(..... @quibble-auk we ugh I might have really really wanted some sad fluff, it was supposed to be a quick blurb. Not connected or even angsty?? Then Comet took over, ugh my newest contribution to the Dropmix Trials..Yayyy...)

Tw. Eh Self worth, Self harm, angst with comfort because I could not take it right now.

-

Comet wanted to sleep, badly.

He sat in his customary chair beside his brother’s medical berths, with an air of exhaustion. It was noticeable from his dark eyes ringed with blue, the way his shoulders hung low but the muscles of his back still twitched with the need to be awake. It wasn't safe enough to sleep. Not here. Not when Comet knew so much and his brothers laid still in their own recharge. Sunstreaker recovering from his debacle with Dropmix.  A shiver racked Comet’s spine, his eyes burning at the memory of his cowardice, of his stupidity. If the young male could look any more tired, he did. Another wave of emotions hit when his mind turned those fifteen minutes over for the hundredth time. When the world had felt like it had caved in again.

  He had attacked Jeopardy. Like an animal he had tried to eat him, the young mech who had been nothing but kind. Comet had revealed himself to someone else, another pair of eyes. More adding onto his list of threats. What were the chances Jeopardy would turn in a report on him? Comet felt a horrible pit get deeper in his stomach, he had given no reason to not seem like a threat to the medic. He could be right now typing up a report, a slip of data that would get Comet taken away. Panic flared in his heart, tears burning his throat as he sputtered with horrible scenarios. All of which would be his fault. 

The muscle twitch of a yawn wracked through him, cutting off the worried train of thoughts. Comet did not release it, clenching his jaw against the organic signal. Even if he was alone now in a private room, among only his resting brothers.

Cometeater had not really slept since he had arrived in the torrential medbay, too frightened and nervous to close his eyes for more than a few minutes. 

It did not help that those few minutes of sleep were plagued by nightmares, that Dropmix himself and his smell had conjured back up. Those awful images on the computer had only worked up the terrors his mind tortured him with. Comet had  decided after the first night in Dropmix’s territory he wasn't going to sleep until Sideswipe woke up, until he was sure he was safe.

Then Dropmix hurt Sunstreaker. Then Comet tried to kill someone who might have been trying to be his friend. With that combined with every other stress, Cometeater finalized he just wasn't sleeping till they left this place.

What little he could snag was useless, it was a waste of his energy to try. Another yawn cramped his jaw, as Cometeater dug a claw into his arm to keep himself steady.

A warm hand grabbed onto his hand digging into his plating, “Hey..Don't do that..” 

Jolting, Comet looked to the side to find his red brother slightly awake, optics soft with the pain medication. Cometeater felt a new wave of loathing appear when he realized he was so deep into his own head he hadn't heard Sideswipe even stir. What if he had been in pain? Or needed a medic because of a complication? What if-

“Don’t do that either, Comet look at me.” Sideswipe’s rough voice was soft with concern, Comet hadn’t realized he had started to time his breaths with every rampaging worry on his mind. Which meant he was inches from hyperventilating.

Weak.

“No, no hey.”  Sideswipe was sitting up, he was not supposed to be sitting up.

Comet jerked eyes widening with concern, “Sides no, your-” The red mech said not a word, violet optics brightening with every moment as he looked around. Before landing on Comet, who had scrambled to be as close as possible in case the older mech had trouble. Cometeater stiffened under the knowing gaze, his hands dropping from their protective hovering as Sideswipe settled.

Many would underestimate the red mech as ditzy, maybe even stupid because of his smiles and charm. But those optics caught everything, it was annoying at times how well he knew Comet’s tells.

“You’re supposed to be resting..” It was a concerned murmur as another tired cramp went through Comet’s mouth, Sideswipe raised an eyebrow.

“Well yeah, same to you.” There was a protective lilt to Sideswipe’s curt snap, optics picking apart Comet’s tired form. The pretender had nothing in response.

“Yeah thought so, what's wrong?” Comet winced at the sentence, how many times had Sideswipe had to ask him that? Had to go out of his way to make sure Comet was alright. When all Comet did was let Dropmix-

A soft touch. Sideswipe’s rough hand moved to run along Comet’s face, a gentle grounding gesture that had the green mech trembling. He didn’t deserve it. “Don’t get too far in that head of yours Com, nothings wrong.”

But it was wrong, everything was wrong. This whole thing was his fault, if he had heard those seekers none of this would have happened, if he had attacked Dropmix he could have ended the fight before Sunny got hurt. “Cometeater I said stop it.” It was a snarl, that for what felt like the hundredth time, snapped him out of the deep water.

Sideswipe had a severe expression, his mouth downturned and brows knitted. “Talk to me. Don’t pull the you should be sleeping slag because you obviously haven't slept in weeks.” Comet closed his mouth at the pointed remark. Sideswipe had the gall to smirk, “I win. Now c'mon, what's swirling around in there?” Sideswipe tapped Comets' helm ever so softly to emphasize his point.

Comet took a shaky breath, “...I just can’t sleep, too..” Cometeater struggled to get out the right words. Sideswipe watched him patiently, thumb gently running down Comet’s face. That warm touch is what probably let the dam loose.

“Too much has happened, everything is so weird. A- and its my fault!” The thumb stopped.

“I-If I had heard those stupid seekers, if I hadn’t been sleeping, if I was doing what I was supposed to be doing!” Comet was trembling from the force of letting the thoughts finally fall from his mouth, “If I had not been so stupid,” His voice cracked, “ if I could have stopped Dropmix and not froze like some kind of coward-”,  Sideswipe opened his mouth, optics flaring with a sharp emotion. Comet didn’t let him speak, desperate to get the poison out of his brain.

“What kind of brother am I?! I dont deserve it I dont deserve you, Im not good enough-” Sideswipe cut him off by jerking their foreheads together, a gesture of pure tenderness that only made Comet sob.

Sideswipe hugged them tight together, his vents deep with what could either be rage or sadness, Comet felt guilt rear its ugly head once more.

Pressed against one another, they could feel the thrums of their hearts thudding. Comet’s slowed in response to the deep comforting hum of his brother’s. Sideswipe had his arms wrapped tight around the other, forcing slow breaths to ease the heartache coursing through him.

“I need you to listen to me, you hear me? No bullshit, no giggles, listen to me.” Sideswipe’s voice was raw with hurt, but firm as he turned his blazing gaze to meet Comet’s wet gold and black eyes.

“Never, ever say that again. None of its true. Not one word- Don't interrupt me.  First off Cometeater your ours, you will be till you die and you're gonna fragging deal with it. You're not a coward, Dropmix could have turned you into paste, you did nothing wrong. We talked about this. It's not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

With every word the mech grew more solemn, hugging Comet like the world was ending.

“Bad things happen, slag happens Commy. All because you have intuition better than Sunny and I combined doesn't make you all seeing. You're not a Primus damned prophet. No one could have known except the superiors, who we both know can’t tell their helm from their aft half the time.” He snarled, rubbing circles into Comet’s armor desperately trying to comfort the smaller mech, who had only watched with wet wide optics. But every sentence had taken some of the hurt away, left Comet feeling less heavy. He had missed Sideswipe so much.

“Dammit Com, why..” Sideswipe seemed to run out of steam looking at his brother trying to grasp the right words to clean the wound the younger had seemed to let fester.

Comet opened his mouth, heart throbbing at causing so much pain. Sideswipe caught it with a growl, “No. Don’t start, this isn’t something for you to apologize for..Comet I love you so much. We love you so fragging much..Your our brother, nothing will ever change that. Primus, you are the only thing we have that isn’t just us.  You’re ours, I wouldn’t have survived after the attack without you. Sunny might never have found us if not for you..Sweetspark you did everything you could have done.” The older mech's voice held a crack in it, Comet pressed himself forward to cling to the mech best he could with the berth in the way, trying to offer comfort in return. Allowing himself to just finally melt, almost weak from relief and the force of his outburst.

 Sideswipe let out a growl when Comet couldn’t seem to get close enough, and without warning pulled Comet up into his lap. The pretender let out a squawk, remembering Jeopardy’s warnings past his tears.

“Frag that, come here.” With that Comet was tight in the hold of his brother, Sideswipe soothing them both with the contact. For a moment neither said a word, Comet allowing his brother’s comforts to wash over him. His scent the hard thump of his spark, fear dripping away with every breath. As the two held one another, Comet could feel sleep gently tugging at his eyelids.

When Sideswipe spoke again, a while after, his voice was soft. “I'm so proud of you, ok? You did everything you were supposed to, and I'm so proud of you.” With that Sideswipe gutted his fears, stole them away and smoothed the edges. They both knew this wasn’t the last time they would sit down and talk about this, too much had happened. But both were tired, Sideswipe had begun to feel the ache of his old injuries, and Comet needed sleep.

“Go to sleep Com, I'm here. We're both here, we're all here.”

The smaller mech shook his head tiredly, “I tried..I can’t.” Sideswipe pressed his thickly armored helm against the smaller mech’s. “..Nightmares?”

Comet nodded into his brother's neck, fighting sleep with every breath. Sideswipe would have found the battle amusing, if the reason behind it wasn't so spark breaking. Sunstreaker was tiredly awake now, gazing at his siblings, concern in his optics. Sideswipe cuddled his smaller sibling closer, sending a quick tip over the bond that he would explain later. It was steeped in a request for the golden twin to hold his temper.

Sunstreaker moved so his shoulder was brushing Sideswipe’s, a tender gesture of understanding. “Nothings gonna get you Com, I swear it.” Sideswipe tried to ignore the pang of guilt that came along with the promise, how many times had he broken it?  

Sunstreaker sat up fully, tugging his brother down onto the berth and curling against him. Much like they did when they were sparklings, two pieces that fit perfectly.

Sunny laid his helm on his brother’s shoulder, optics a tired glow. Over the bond the gladiator sent soft pulses of warmth, trying to soothe the guilt.

“We're here little brother, nothing's gonna touch you.”

-

Jeopardy would later enter the private room in the morning, finding Sunstreaker awake sitting on the edge of the berth.  Sideswipe positioned so he was mostly behind the other gladiator, cradling a sleeping Comet. The green mech was firmly hidden behind the gladiators, they without budging asked the medic to leave. Saying they wanted some privacy for a few hours. Jeopardy had nodded ever so slowly, his fresh weld shiny in the low light. Leaving the energon on a nearby table, saying he would be back in three hours to check on their vitals. Neither mech said a word, violet optics firm and tired.  

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

-

Playing in the ruins.

-

Just some snippets of Comet living in the ruins of the Pits while Dropmix..Works. Poor kid has a grieving widower for a father, who doesn't call himself by such a title anyway.

Leaves him to wander and play in the graveyard of culture and blood baths, the fighting arenas now dead and abandoned due to the civil war.

Cometeater doesn't know that though, he just wants to touch the moon and make his father smile.

Heart in hand Au

@quibble-auk

[quibble-auk]

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

I’m not sure if I’m in love with this. But it’s been done. The moment that Cometeater said “I lived for them” I had this pop into my head.

Dropmix is great at comforting people usually. He just tells them what they want to hear. But this time if he fails then Jeopardy ends up getting hurt so the pressure is on. So he’s gotta actually like…. Open up. At least as much as he can.

He doesn’t really but he feels like he does. So good for him I guess.

My contribution to the Custody AU.

—

Dropmix closed the door of the side room as gently as he could behind him. Jeopardy had been a mess after he had found Cometeater on the roof, programs only making the young medic’s emotional response stronger. Somehow Jeopardy had managed to keep it mostly under control while he soothed Comet. Though the moment that the medic had stepped out of the room with the Pretender he had fallen apart.

It took longer than usual for Dropmix to get him to settle—it had been awhile since the younger mech had a panic attack that severe. But Dropmix knew to be patient, carefully guiding the panicking medic through exercises to ground himself and try to steady his breathing. When Jeopardy finally did calm down he quickly revealed to Dropmix what had happened, clearly distressed and voice breaking. The dark gladiator did everything he could to comfort the other, holding him until Jeopardy eventually slipped into sleep.

But the entire experience had brought several things to his attention. The first being that he needed to keep a closer eye on both Jeopardy and Cometeater. The second was that the young medic cared deeply for his friend and was struggling to try and help him. The third was that if Comet did something like this again it very possibly might destroy Jeopardy.

So it was up to Dropmix to make sure something like that didn’t happen again.

The large mech looked around the dark room, the only light provided by the faintly glowing emergency lights that the medical bay had installed. Cometeater was curled on the berth, tucked away in a thick blue blanket, swaddled in it like it could hide him from the outside world. Dropmix narrowed his eye, straining against the darkness to try and figure out what position Comet was in. He didn’t move any further into the room, standing awkwardly just in front of the doorway.

Eventually, the mass of blanket shifted as two large eyes looked up at him, wide and watery. They flashed, the low lighting catching just the right angle to make the wide pupils glow a sickly yellow color for a brief moment. Cometeater blinked once before he pushed himself into the corner of the bed, away from Dropmix, a low whine escaping him.

Dropmix sighed, rolling his shoulders back, bracing himself. He wasn’t here to intimidate. He wasn’t here to threaten. He wasn’t even here because he particularly cared—at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He was here because Jeopardy was in over his head.

The gladiator had dealt with people like this before and he had always been smart enough not to get attached to patients like this, but Jeopardy didn’t know any better, he couldn’t help himself. That much was clear with Nova.

He looked to the other side of the room, expression carefully neutral. Dropmix slowly walked to one of the chairs that sat across from the bed, he could feel Cometeater’s gaze burning into him as he moved. The gladiator didn’t say anything, he didn’t react at all, only plopping himself down into the chair with an ungraceful grunt. He took a moment to adjust his posture, trying to keep his armor from pressing against his joints uncomfortably before he looked back over at the swaddled form on the bed.

The silence sat thickly in the room as the gladiator fought with himself to keep the thoughts of how pathetic the display was at bay. That was the last thing that Cometeater needed at the moment. If Jeopardy was right, Dropmix would have to tread carefully. However, with the way that the small green mech was looking at him, Dropmix was realizing that it would be difficult to reach the other without poking at things he shouldn’t.

Unless, of course, Dropmix did the one thing he would rather eat his own armor than do willingly. But he wasn’t doing this for himself, he was doing it for Jeopardy. If this was what it took to make sure that Comet didn’t hurt Jeopardy like that again then Dropmix could suck it up. It was a small price to pay. The gladiator shifted in the chair as he took another moment to collect his thoughts.

“Jeopardy told me what you tried to do,” He began, tone gentle as if he was talking to one of his other patients. He forced his posture to remain relaxed as he observed Comet for any reaction, his voice shifting to something just a bit more harsh and blunt, “That was fragging stupid, you know that, right?”

Cometeater blinked, eyes widening a little as he heard Dropmix’s voice shift, eyes darting to the floor for a moment. He stayed quiet for just a moment, burrowing into the blanket a bit more under the intense stare of Dropmix. When the pretender finally replied it was muffled by the cloth, “I guess.”

Dropmix narrowed his eye, resisting the urge to scoff, “Then why did you do it?”

The green mech ducked lower, still not looking up at Dropmix. He shuddered and shook his head, tone thick with emotion as he did his best to growl at the other, “Why are you here Dropmix?”

The gladiator shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair. He frowned, “I’m here because you tried to kill yourself, Cometeater.”

“So, what?” The small mech spat hotly, though his voice slightly waivered, emotions still brewing. He glared at the gladiator, eyes wetter than normal, “You here to antagonize me? You here because you have to so you can keep pretending to be something you're not?”

Dropmix took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly, his arms remaining crossed over his chest. He shook his head dismissively. He knew what this was, the hostility was a sad attempt to defend himself, to try and get Dropmix to leave. Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite mastered it in the same way Nova had, the gladiator could see through the cracks. “No, I’m not here because I have to be, I’m here because I want to talk to you.”

Comet looked away, shifting to hide his face in the covers, “Go away, I don’t want to talk.”

“I never said you had to talk,” Dropmix was careful to keep his tone gentle and soft. He needed to treat this like he would any other grieving patient—no, what Dropmix was doing was not something he did with others. He didn’t try to connect with people, not when it involved exposing his own old wounds and failures, “I just need you to listen, think you can do that?”

The swaddled mass on the bed didn’t move or reply, Dropmix didn’t expect him to. He sighed, looking at the ground as he collected his thoughts, his spark hammering in his chest. The gladiator was never good at this, he told people what he wanted them to hear, usually it was what they needed as well. But Cometeater needed more than that and Dropmix knew that the kid was in no place to use this against him.

He also knew how to keep a secret.

“I’m not going to tell you that everything’s going to get better. I’m not going to sugar coat or lie to you to make you feel better,” Dropmix began, voice gentle though it carried a sharp edge to it, leaving no room for argument, “Things are going to hurt and be uncomfortable. Things like this are messy. You’re probably going to hate every second of it, wish that the universe would spare you from the miserable existence you’ve found yourself in. And you have every right to think that, to feel that way.”

Cometeater stiffened a bit, curling away from the other more. The gladiator shifted, going silent for a moment as he contemplated what to say, “You lost the two most important people in your life. That’s not something that you just move on from and get over.”

Dropmix spoke from his own experience. He had found himself in a position just like Comet’s when he had lost Theremin. When his anger had finally run dry and his thirst for vengeance was finally quenched he had been just as lost. Just as alone. But Comet had something that he didn’t have when he was finally forced to face reality.

He had Jeopardy.

“But that doesn’t mean you just give up and take the easy way out,” his voice grew harsher, brow furrowing, unwanted emotions surfacing and making him bitter. He shouldn't be doing this. “I’m not going to argue that they wouldn’t have wanted you to do it, that you need to keep going for them, or that otherwise their sacrifice would have been for nothing.”

The large mech knew how easy it was to dismiss arguments like that. He had done so himself, plenty of times. And they never helped it hurt any less, nothing did really. He just learned to live with it, and Comet would in time. He just needed to live long enough to get there. Just like Dropmix had to.

He shook his head, gaze still locked onto the floor. His tone became more somber, “I’m not going to argue with you about them because it's not my place.”

The dark mech sighed and adjusted himself in his seat, “But I am going to tell you that if you kill yourself then their memory is going to die with you.”

Cometeater flinched at that.

Dropmix continued, just as blunt, “Their lives will be worth nothing more than a number. They will become just as unimportant as the millions of others lost in the war.”

Finally, Dropmix looked up at Cometeacter, who was still keeping his face tucked away and hidden. The gladiator didn’t care, he had shared what he wanted to. It was what had kept him going before he found Jeopardy, and maybe it would be enough to keep Comet going as well. He stood, straightening himself as he buried the emotions that risked spilling over the air of professionalism he kept himself contained in.

“Then they would really be gone, Cometeater. It would be like they never existed at all.”

The large mech didn’t wait for a response, turning to leave the room the moment he had finished. His heavy frame shifted as he reached for the door. He didn’t expect a response. He didn’t need one. But behind him, he heard the soft rustle of fabric, a barely audible inhale—Cometeater shifting, curling in on himself tighter.

That was enough.

The door clicked shut behind him.