Huh. Fic.

Jul. 13th, 2010 11:39 pm
swordage: Skyfire flying. (tf fire in the sky)
[personal profile] swordage
Soooo I was sitting around going DOOT DOOT DOOT and I wrote a thing. A dream-thing! A fic-thing. I honestly don't know if anyone wants to read such a thing but it's here if you want it. I usually get annoyed at such disclaimers but I'm not saying it sucks, I'm saying stories wherein all that happens is a character dreams tend to annoy me so I'm not sure why I wrote this. ANYWAY.

Untitled
Series: Transformers G1
Wordcount: 407
Rating: G
Summary: For millions of years, Skyfire dreamed.

***

In the ice, Skyfire dreamed.

He saw the infinite spiraling towers of Vos: sometimes stretching above and around him for as far as he could see, sometimes tiny pinpricks far below. The atmosphere was thicker than he thought it should be. It pressed in on him, cold as the space between stars. They were distant inhospitable points of light all around him, a thousand million glowing optics staring with disinterest. He tried to tremble but his body refused to hear him. He couldn't move.

Everything was still. Entropy prevailed, heat-death of the universe reaching for his laser core, his very spark. He groaned. Vos groaned with him, Starscream's aerie rocking slowly under his feet. The wounded city shook its inhabitants out of their home-spires and they filled the too-thick air, falling as if through water. Skyfire could see their open mouths. They made no noise. The aerie groaned again and gravity shifted, moved sideways, and he dropped out the sky-door as if it were down instead of sideways and he fell into the midst of a hundred thousand tetrajets and they pressed against him, around him, wailing silently as their home shook out its death throes. They crushed around him and he couldn't move and everything was dark and he shivered, cold in his very spark, colder than the endless Pit of the Unmaker's gut.

Things moved in the dark. They chittered and laughed, bit at his extremities until he bled, gnawed until he couldn't feel the pain of it any longer. He couldn't see what they were. Their eyes had no glow, blind and snuffling and black. Skyfire wept in terror. One giggled near his face, and he could hear it move - he could hear it skitter closer - its sensory bristles touched his cheek but his optic glow illuminated nothing and its teeth were so sharp

The light came.

It came and he did not see it come until it was already bright, and the creatures of the dark were no more, and he groaned for the pains of his body where they had bit. The light was blue and knew his name: it spoke to him so sweetly with a voice of warmth and comfort. Its hands soothed his hurts and he could see into it, he could see Starscream at its core.

"Starscream," he said, though his mind was glacial and his voice recalcitrant. "It's you. You rescued me."

Starscream smiled.
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