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Memories were an interesting thing. For a while, Dominus didn’t actually remember anything at all. Not more than the emotions surrounding whatever events happened around and to him, at least. Before that time, though, however long it lasted, his last memories curled most dearly around a mech he’d never have considered interacting with before life thrust them together. If not for that damnable Prowl and Dominus' own effort to protect himself and his family, their paths would not have otherwise crossed.
He didn’t spend much thought on the fact that he might have taken it too far. Judged from the quiet reprimand in Minimus’ optics in those final moments laying on a cold medical slab before the Afterspark took him, Dominus was not as forgiven as he might have hoped. Or, no. That wasn’t what had happened. No, it had been his sweet, beloved Rewind at his berthside, still alive? With another, a mnemosurgeon, a mech chosen over himself, needles of his trade buried deep into Dominus’ brain module.
Why did he think of Minimus, then? Why did Minimus stand in front of him even now, one hand reached out to hover over his shoulder, but not touch. Dominus eased away from the hand and its odd lack of movement, slipping off the far side of the medical slab. His pedes landed on the floor in absolute, unexpected silence.
Dominus stared down, optics wide with shock. He should have made some sound, having not had the forethought to check his dampeners were engaged. Even the most adept at quiet movement made some noise when not actively hiding it.
Turning his gaze back to the slab, Dominus instinctively knew what he would see, but still found himself taken aback. His own grayed frame in the turbofox altmode, lay loosely curled across the length, the mnemosurgeon’s arm still attached by the needles. Of Minimus, there was no sign, however. Taking another step back, strangely calm in discovery of his death, Dominus shifted his attention to look around the medibay.
It looked much the same as any other medibay, though decidedly short-staffed. There were only two bots in the room with him, neither paying him any mind. Dominus sighed. Death had finally come to him, well-deserved after the things he'd been a part of, but was this the Afterspark? Was it nothing more than a shade of the living universe, forever to be ignored by those still functioning? That didn’t sound right, but it wasn’t as if he had huge amounts of research to draw a true conclusion from. He did have some small hope the tales held some truth, though. It would be nice to eventually move on to something gentler than his life had been.
With nothing to stop him, Dominus returned to the medical slab to look closer on his deactivated corporeal self. Gazing on his turbofox face, Dominus lifted a hand to brush against the plating of his snout, only for the tips of his fingers to plunge right through. He grimaced and pulled his hand back, fingers curling into a loose fist. Not even the smallest reaction from his frame. There was no going back, obviously.
Movement on the far side of the room dragged his gaze to the medic busy with repairs on what looked to be the mnemosurgeon. Dominus’ shoulders drooped the very smallest bit as he took in the expression on Rewind’s face. Neither mask nor visor would ever disguise the concern that came only with the deepest love written there.
A broken throb pulsed in Dominus’ chest, leaving him startled at the sensation. He pressed a hand against his plating, right over the oddity. As a deactivated mech, he knew very well that he shouldn’t be feeling the throb of a painfully twisting spark. Someone in his position had no spark to perform such a feat. That knowledge, though, made no difference to the continued sense of deep loss that washed over him. He knew that Rewind would have—should have—moved on in the aftermath of his disappearance. Dominus had no right to hold the sweet mech to him in the most likely event that he never returned to his conjunx’s side. Perhaps most hurtful was knowing he would now never be able to properly say goodbye.
Gazing across the medibay, very much aware of the longing on his face, Dominus didn’t become aware of the new pull on his senses until it became too much to ignore. He frowned, turning away from Rewind and the medic that worked over the mnemosurgeon that had taken his place. The pull was really more a series of tugs on his spark. Or whatever took the place of it in this new form of his. What was he exactly? A shade of some sort? A ghost? He shook that from his helm and, after one last glance toward his once-conjunx, Dominus followed the pull that was quickly growing in insistence.
He was not surprised to find none of the doors responded to his presence. After all, an incorporeal being—which, to the best of his current understanding, he was—would not trigger such a reaction from the physical world around him. Recalling the way his fingers had passed through his own frame, Dominus pulled in a deep intake of air and set his shoulders before stepping right through the door.
His deep sense of wonder was perhaps the only thing to keep him from panicking that he now stood in a long hall. Wide and open were the words that he would best use to describe it. He got the impression very little about the building he found himself in was anything other than wide and open. Shaking off the moment of awe, Dominus turned his focus back to the pull on his afterlife version of a spark.
Soon enough, Dominus reached the end of the hall and found himself only more intently called. Whatever or whoever lay at the end of this tugging need him to be somewhere else and Dominus fully intended to find them now that he was seeking them out. He wasn’t sure where the hunt would take him, but he hadn’t spent a long life with a turbofox altmode and not learned how to follow prey to the end.
Over the course keeping to the trail, the incessant tugging pull, Dominus stopped paying attention to things around him. It continued that none of the bots, whatever their affiliation, paid him any mind. A boon in a situation such as the one he currently found himself. Perhaps not so kind should one want the attention of a living bot. Dominus sighed and shook off the dreary thought. It did him no good linger on his inability to speak one more time with Rewind.
When he realized himself very near to the source of his quest, Dominus paused and looked around him. He knew this place. Though bearing stark similarity to most other command bridges, one did not forget the bridge of the Peaceful Tyranny. Especially if one had served on the ship for longer than they might care to think about.
Dominus swung a hard stare around the bridge. Whoever might have been on duty before his arrival, they were no longer there. That tug on his spark continued, squeezing and pulling harder than ever. Stepping farther onto the bridge, Dominus caught sight of the drying energon smeared across on the wall nearby. Large spatters dripped across the floor, as well, drawing Dominus in on what he knew would be a macabre scene. From somewhere near the captain’s chair a soft and despairing sound caught Dominus’ audial. Not a sound uncommon around the Decepticon Justice Division, Dominus wondered if they’d left some victim still alive for later finishing. Very unusual that would be, but it quickly occurred to him that it might very well be someone in a predicament much like his own. Then his foot dragged slightly as it swept through an object that should not have been there.
Dominus frowned and looked down. Gasping and leaping away in shock as he stared with devastated optics down on the crushed head of his second love. He crept closer and knelt down beside it—there was no mistaking what he was looking at. “Oh, my dear Kaon,” he breathed out in sorrow. He knew his touch wouldn’t connect, but he still reached out as if to pet his fingers along that crumpled crest. “I won’t say it was an end that you didn’t earn,” he murmured, “but it still pains me greatly to see this.”
The quiet sobbing—he could make it out now and that’s very much what it was—drew his attention back to the rest of the carnage. Dominus followed the streaks of congealing energon toward the captain’s chair, catching sight finally of the slumped, gray frame that had once been rust red and gold, so vibrant in color among the average Decepticon ranks. A color that warned of danger, but had drawn Dominus in nonetheless. His spark ached for reasons beyond the pull grown harsh so close to its source. Letting his optics seek out the shadows behind the chair, he discovered that source curled up around himself, small and scared, like Dominus had never seen him.
“There you are,” Dominus said quietly as a way of announcing himself. He sidled up to the distraught mech, sitting on the floor next to him, stopping just shy of touching. “What’s wrong, dearest? You know I can’t stand to see you upset.”
His fellow shade went suddenly silent and slowly turned his helm in Dominus’ direction. Why he was surprised to see Kaon lacked optics even in this apparent afterlife, Dominus didn’t know, but he was. “Vos?” Kaon asked, a soft waver in his voice. His helm tilted a little to one side, a hand reached toward Dominus. “How are you here, Pet?”
“I really would prefer at this point that I not be addressed by either of those names,” Dominus told him, catching Kaon’s hand in his own, relieved it was solid and real. The warmth of it surprised him. All the stories told of the dead claimed their touch cold. He wrapped his hand around Kaon’s and lowered it toward his lap where he simply held it. Kaon didn’t protest or try to pull away. “Please, call me Dominus.”
The spark-twisting upset seemed to drain away from Kaon in light of his presence. “All right,” Kaon said, stumbling a little over the name, “D-Dominus.”
Dominus smiled, not wide or bright, but intimate and sincere. “I rather like hearing that name on your glossa. What shall I call you? Kaon doesn’t seem quite right, anymore, either.”
Kaon was quiet for a few long moments, but Dominus eventually heard a name offered. “Amp. I used to be called that. I think I would like to be so again.”
“Of course, Amp,” Dominus replied. He managed to refrain from informing the mech he found the name quite adorable, really. Instead, he stroked his fingers along Amp’s, feeding him calm reassurance—they were beyond hurt here, after all.
“Why did Tarn do it, Dominus?” Amp asked in a quiet voice, curling his fingers into Dominus’. “What did I do to make him do it?”
“That I don’t know,” he said with a sigh, startled at the sudden knowledge the carnage was on Tarn's hands. Having not been present for it, though, Dominus could not rightly say why any of the grisly scene left on the bridge of the ship happened. Tarn was normally above such a vicious display, but often fell prey to emotions run rampant, his insecurities so easily used against him. “I don’t know that even he knows, honestly.”
Amp’s other hand came to rest over his and they sat quiet for a klik or two, simply basking in the resonance of one another’s fields. When the silence was broken again, it was Amp asking, “Can we go now? I don’t think I want to be here, anymore.”
“An excellent idea, my dear.” Dominus climbed to his feet and tugged Amp to his. “I’m not sure of where we’re supposed to go on this side, but perhaps we can find our way together?”
“I’d like that.” The smile that blossomed across Amp’s face was the one that had stolen Dominus’ spark. It was good to see it again.
“Let’s go, then,” Dominus said. “Any direction is as good as another, I think.” He pointed them toward the most direct path off the ship, straight through the walls and outer hull, and led the way.