Not really a fan of how I wrote this one, but i guess it's okay enough...
Go check out @lilruruby's works!
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Believe it or not, Deadeye tried to reach out. Had tried to come back. If only to see what's finally become of Cybertron with the war gone. Tired of avoiding and wandering off the universe and away from his promise of returning his twin's kingdom back to him. Tired of pretending he's not running away from confrontation.
It had taken some convincing and promises and a lot of conditions to follow, but Deadeye had Starscream agree to visit Cybertron. They left the Vega and used a smaller ship to not bring attention, used mesh cloaks to hide their identity.
Where's the floor beneath my feet?
Here he was, hiding again. Like some nervous highschool teen with a crush, Deadeye saw a too familiar flash of yellow and darted to an alleyway to hide. Spark thumping against his chest with sudden fear.
Deadeye can't believe himself as he tried to laugh off the anxiety that suddenly bubbled up inside him, conflicted in thinking whether or not this was a good idea. He's come a long way and here he is, hiding the from the very mech he'd come for.
Knocking his helm back softly against the wall, as memories of kind blue optics and gentle servos flashed towards the front of his mind. A soft smile towards him, the kisses that made his processor melt and that feeling of bright warm connection of a merge happen.
Why does grief keeps chasing me?
The look of betrayal, the sharp sting of hate in his spark before that warm connection snapped shut so fast that it had made Deadeye almost stumble. The glow of a blaster pointed towards him and the optics full of distrust that made everything sting harder than any injury he felt.
I thought I gave it everything
He tried to move on. To mourn and let it all out everytime. Tried to reason it was never meant to be. Slammed down on the prodding connection in his spark that wasn't his twin. Had convinced himself that he wasn't... he wasn't...
He lied to himself. Over and over and grieved over that short lived connection he knows he'll never have again.
He tried his best to stop loving him but he just couldn't.
I'm so fucking scared to speak
Deadeye did his best, gathering his courage and to push through his fear and just go up and call out. Taking a deep vent in and breathing it all out. Stood up straight and walked out of the alley, servo clenched and vocalizer primed to call out for the yellow framed scout across; to call out and see if kind blue optics can still be thrown his way.
It doesn't even sound like me--
Vocalizer cycled down into a half aborted static. Mismatched optics staring at the scene across the bustling street. Watching as Bumblebee smiled and laughed and allowed another bot be so, so close to him. Looking at each other with such mirth the way Deadeye used to imagine between them, times where he would lose himself to the past.
They seem so much closer like they used to be. All this years...
Deadeye felt his vents hitched.
Vision narrowing down to the two too happy bots across the busy street.
"...it's nothing, sweetspark. Let's go look for Screamer, yeah?"
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Bumblebee paused, expression falling as he raised a servo over his chassis. An odd pinch deep his spark, trembling for a moment before fading like there was nothing. It was brief, almost like a whisper that Bumblebee would've brushed off if it was any other day but...
"Sir? Is something wrong?" Strongarm worried. He'd just been recounting to her his time on Earth when she'd curiously asked about it. Bumblebee had felt melancholic and reminisce to her the better parts of it, internally thumbing his spark and the closed connection there.
Bumblebee shuttered his optics, cycling them instinctively towards the busy street, before shaking his helm.
"Sorry, Strongarm, guess I'm just getting tired. It's been a long day..."
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