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Current mood:

meeeeh

;-;
My waifu posted this on her LJ:

And I took it upon myself...

Title: The Power
Rating: PG
Warnings: mild cursing, deaaaath, hints at Inferno/Red Alert
Summary: Sometimes the spark is too strong to bear too much.

Inferno couldn't stop the coolant from coming to his optics. It felt like his system was shutting down, and every circuit in his chassis was failing. His own spark was dim, lacking the luster and glimmer it once was. The Autobot wanted to do nothing more then to disappear right now, to leave the Ark and drive--drive, drive, drive. He didn't quite know where, just... somewhere far away.

Far away from this goddamn war. Far away from factions, from pointless killing, from planet raping and needless violence. Inferno didn't mind if this meant never seeing Cybertron again. He didn't care if it meant Firestar would miss him. Everything had died alongside Red Alert that evening.

Inferno had been busy putting out a fire with Prowl, Bluestreak and Bumblebee when he got the call. The Decepticons realized if they had to leave empty handed, they might as well destroy everything.

"Inferno speakin'," the Autobot firetruck laughed; he knew he shouldn't be enjoying any of this, but he loved his job.

Ratchet's voice was soft on the other end. "Inferno," he said in a tone too steady to be calming, "return to base."

"But--"

"That's an order directly from Prime himself."

Inferno winced. Now what was that all about? Nonetheless, the big bot wanted to see him and after bidding the others good-bye (the fire was under control now), he drove off to the Ark, sirens blazing as he abused his power to get there faster.

He shouldn't have come. If he knew what he'd see when he'd arrive... He would have never picked up that fucking call. But he was there now, facing the truth, facing harsh reality. And nothing was more harsh a reality than war.

Red Alert's optics were black, and his body was ashen grey, lost of all life. Inferno just wilted beside his berth in the med bay. The other Autobots were there, heads hung low, some having to leave or look away. Inferno knew war meant casualities, but never once did he think ole paranoid Red, who could smell danger comin' from a mile away...

"I-It..." Inferno swallowed and slumped back against the wall. He looked to Ratchet with pained blue orbs. "... How did...?"
Ratchet said nothing and showed the taller 'bot his findings during the autopsy. Inferno took the datapad with a shaky hand then slowly read over the holograph, written in the Autobot language. When he saw the cause of death, the pad fell from his hand, hose-equipped one pressed against his face, to hide his watery optics, his teeth bare and grinding in utter, bitter sadness.

"I'm sorry," Ratchet apologized in a quiet voice.

Inferno looked away, hissed then grunted angrily as he tried to hold back his sob. He dimmed his optics before centering himself. Once composed, he looked back up at the medic. "Overdosing on Energon-Risperdal," he croaked. "That... Sure, Red was a bit looney at times, but..."

Optimus approached his soldier. "He left a note, my friend," he stated, handing him another datapad.

Inferno was afraid to take it. Did he want to know? But these were Red Alert's last words... He had to know. Inferno took the pad with a stiff nod and read it over.

I am sorry, dear friends, comrades and you, beloved Inferno. I have decided to take my sparklife. I understand that this is no honorary way to die and as a soldier, I should be ashamed of myself. But I fear so much shame has mounted inside my spark, I no longer think I care anymore. And when one stops caring, it only goes downhill from there...

I apologize again. I just... I could not handle it. I know he entrusted me with the sacred power after his own compatriot died, but the pressure... The pressure grew too much for me to handle.

I apologize immensely to you, Inferno, for you were the one who always told me I could talk to you to relieve myself of stress. For a while, I believed being with you could heal me of my problems, but I realized... No. I will always be like this. I am nothing but a failure, a paranoid thorn in you and the Autobot's sides. And even though he told me I had the spark cut out for this job, I cannot accept it, as I cannot accept life.

Coolant was pouring from Inferno's optics as he finished the letter.

So enclosed, please accept this in my place, Inferno. Make him proud... make me proud.

Love always,
Red Alert

Out from the datapada fell a single ring. Inferno rolled it between his fingers. The glimmering Heart Ring with the power of the same name. The one and only piece that, along with four others, could summon the mighty Captain Planet.

"Curse you, Captain Planet," Inferno snarled, crushing the ring in his quivering fist.

The power, the end of Red Alert's suicide note read, was never mine.



Okay, so, I randomly thought, "Oh, wow, I wanna claim the name xenomorph!" Upon looking it up, I discovered it was not taken. So even though I really don't need it... Yes, I have another journal; naturally, xenomorph. No, I'm not moving journals. I'm going to use it for icons mostly.

So add xenomorph if you wanna see my shitty icons. I HAD TO DO SOMETHING WITH IT OKAY.