VIDEO

[sixmillionyears]

[ He intended for this to be audio, but he's not in the best of ways at the moment. Tailgate's outside, but it's hard to say where with the way the feed keeps juddering about. What is clear is flashes of Tailgate, covered in energon. ]

I-I can't-- I didn't--

No no no no no no no I didn't mean to I didn't want to--

Please make it stop m-make it stop I hurt him I hurt him so bad and I can't stop it I c-can't--

[ He breaks off in a ragged sob, grabbing at his head with energon-soaked hands, curling in on himself. ]

Stop it stop it stop please I wanted to do it I did it and I want to do it again and it won't stop make it stop please please PLEASE!

[ There's another sob and Tailgate takes off, running in some direction. ]

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so fragging sorry please I don't want to do it again I don't--

[ The feed cuts out. ]

Comments

[thehardway]

[The pressure is notable, but it's not enough to keep him from working. He figures it'll be easier to put the pressure on something than one's own hands, at any rate.

He glances down at the writing, then frowns a fraction more. Not in disapproval, just -- the situation.]

You owe no apology to me.

[The patting makes him pause, briefly. His optics shutter, then he refocuses on arranging the repair Swerve's made for himself.]

I. Will be fine.

There. That's all I'm about able to do. I'll take you to the medbay.

[Without any warning, he's just going to scoop up Swerve up into one arm. He's small enough and Ultra Magnus is certainly large enough.]

[chatterbot]

[Swerve looks at him in a way that is supposed to convey 'that's not what I meant by sorry', but it's not exactly the easiest thing to pull off with just his eyeridge and visor. It's only been a few hours at most, and he already misses talking.

A somewhat screeching sort of noise is really the only thing he can manage in protest and Swerve curls himself up into a ball, trying to look indignant and failing. Possibly because he isn't upset and does appreciate the effort Magnus is going through on his part.

He tilts his head, wincing when he pulls tubes and wiring too far, and reaches out to lightly trace 'what happened?' onto Magnus' chest, followed by 'Tailgate?']

[thehardway]

Easy.

[Carefully, he cradles the smaller mech in his grip and begins to make the trek on foot. Ultra Magnus should go back for Tailgate's body, but he isn't about to subject Swerve to that.

He pauses at the writing on his chest, then looks straight ahead. Frankly, he can't bear to look at Swerve with what he has to say next.]

I approached Tailgate. He was going mad, like the others.

I... took care of it.

[There's no simple way of explaining that he had to shoot Tailgate in the head.]

[chatterbot]

[He vents a sigh and his eyeridge slants into a 'V' shape before snapping back the opposite way. It's a lot for him to process in his state, but he gets there.

He gets that others have been going insane. He figures it's probably the Glyphless, which means he owes Alpha Trion an apology. He gets that this happened to Tailgate most of all, considering he's missing his lower jaw and whatever goes with it.

Vague phrasing doesn't exactly fly with him. He's a prankster and a chatterbox, but Swerve is far from being an idiot. He can piece things together well enough, and he bunches up tighter and puts his face in his hands.]

[thehardway]

Swerve...

[Usually, he can detach himself personally when it comes to these things. Deaths of comrades and the like. Even if he feels a certain bond with them, he keeps himself in line because he has to.

He's never had to deal with anything like this. It's hard. And he feels a certain responsibility for it now.]

I'm sorry. I couldn't do much else for him.

[chatterbot]

[The heels of his palms dig into his tubing, and no matter how much he hates himself for not listening, for not taking anything seriously, he's never been fond of pain. Even if he thinks he deserves it. He uncurls slowly and pulls his hands from his face, clenching them into fists in his lap. His brain module is working a mile a minute thinking up something to say, something he can't say. Instead he tries to trace it onto Magnus' plating, but it's too much and too fast and he gives up.

Swerve settles for tracing 'you did what you had to', followed by 'what about the others'. He wants to trace something consoling. Something that will make this alright, but he doesn't have anything that would cut it. He wouldn't even believe his own words if he did.]

[thehardway]

[Carefully, he observes Swerve, ready to take action if he has to. Fortunately, that doesn't appear necessary. No doubt Swerve is feeling frantic; who could blame him?

His head lowers slightly. What he had to. He supposes so; what other option did he have?

The others...]

Rodimus went insane and killed Drift. I killed Rodimus.

[Every time he says it, he feels himself growing more numb, his voice flat and exhausted.]

I don't know about everyone else yet.

[chatterbot]

[At the news, Swerve cringes. He cannot say he was as close to Rodimus, or even to Drift, as Magnus was. To him they were always sort of the in-command trifecta, even if they didn't always seem to have a plan.

And now two of them are dead.

There is a clenching feeling in his chest, and suddenly he feels utterly lost.

Swerve settles into a monotonous tapping and a blank stare before hesitantly writing out 'I'm sorry you had to do that'. He trails off into more tapping. He wants to say that it isn't fair that Magnus had to kill Rodimus. That it isn't fair that Drift died. But when has anything ever been fair?]

[thehardway]

[One hand clenches faintly; he tries to not think too much on the matter, how he feels. Otherwise it'll be harder to keep moving.

Which is what is needed of him.]

So am I.

[Grimly, Ultra Magnus looks out ahead as he continues on.]

Try to not waste your energy right now. We'll be at the medbay soon enough.

[chatterbot]

[It's sad that Magnus has to push his grief aside, and it's sad that Swerve is willing to let him so that he might soak in his own, but that is apparently what's happening. Sometimes that's the way life is.

Swerve doesn't really drift off completely, partially because he's scared of reliving memories in his sleep. He's drowsy though, dizzy from injuries and pain. Mechs of his make weren't really built to endure this sort of thing and stay conscious. He doesn't idly tap anymore, but he does manage to trace out a 'Thanks for coming to find me'.

There is a pause and then he finished his thought.

'You didn't have to, but you did. So thanks.']