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He was always lurking.
In the shadow of fire and ice, there lay something dark. A force of nature, like the others. Something cold and bitter, that burned with the glittering ire of a thousand suns. Something that clung on to life, for all its bitterness. Something that refused to die.
That was him.
A cackling facade of happiness. A joke. A blood-soaked cry for help that came from the jagged, everlasting grin. A crack in the black porcelain that made up his front. Cold fire, pouring from his jaws, keeping everything else at bay.
Random was always happy. Always silly. Never stopped being annoying, did he? An annoyance. Misery. Always insubordinate, picked fights, and left the others to deal with it all. Too sporadic, keep him locked away while they were able to.
He was an animal, a thing, a dog to be kicked to the crate each time he fronted lest he make a mistake. No.. he was a mistake.
Unwanted. Undesired. Repugnant.
After all, who would want the worst part of him?
So, the solution was simple. Needle at others till they kept away, doubted themselves, and didn't even bother with him. Random would never be hurt if he never got close, right? They wouldn't have the damn chance to take his spark and crush it down right in front of him, like had happened so much before. The mech was done fighting. Done being chewed up and discarded like the bitter, sick thing he was. He hated it more than everything.
And yet, despite all that, he found himself falling again.
The forced proximity to her was maintained by Icy and Hothead. Random wouldn't have even bothered if given the choice.
At first, he grew sullen when they spent time with her. She was just a femme, nothing special. Some gladiatorial fighter and servant-attendant who'd had the audacity to sneak out with him. It was Icy, who'd first gotten charmed, and Hothead had followed. Random had seen this too many times. Bait. Pull. Gut. Release.
He'd drown in his emotions again. Random tuned it out. Play dead. This femme's kindness wasn't real, right? Her touches were shallow, skin deep, nothing that could go under the metal and find home. Blitzwing had to remember this. He couldn't just pretend like it was fine, and be clueless.
Days became weeks became months.
Was it still so?
After they'd found about what her ow- it was sickening to even think it- owner, how he hated that word, had been doing to her, torturing and using her like she was some kind of personal punching bag to be broken again and again- it was Random who had lost it. While it was Icy who had been cleaning her wounds all this time, Hothead who had held her and soothed her and suspected it wasn't just a fall down the stairs or an incident with a wild animal.. it was Random, who had bitten the mech's limbs off, and allowed Hothead to gladly front in to eat them, piece by piece, while the bot had watched, screaming out his life.
It was Random who had picked her up to stumble back to his hab, hoping the authorities wouldn't catch him covered in energon and metal, fresh off the high of a righteous murder. Psh. Maybe the enforcers just didn't care, with how there hadn't been a single investigation for the mech's murder. It was chalked down to the fact that he was the owner of a gladiatorial arena, with plenty of enemies.
Curtains closed, no one had bothered with Trailblazer's abuser in the end.
As it should be. Dead and gone.
That night, Random had cleaned her battered frame with shaky servos, and held her so they could both get some recharge after all of it was over.
Maybe because he knew what it was like to be treated like a thing.
Like there wasn't any feeling or emotion to go by, nothing inside. Like anyone could do anything and all of a sudden, it was fine and nothing was wrong.
He knew. So maybe, because he could share in her pain, there could be something between them...
...Heh.
It occurred to Random that he had never kissed her. Even though the other two had. Plenty of times.
It almost felt like they're yours, and I... don't belong.
Random just stroked Trailblazer's back, blinking down at her. Quiet for once, he was idle in his movements, none of his jerky, spontaneous energy coming now. Then again, half the time it was a farce. The triformer's gaze softened, seeing her scars. How many were there? What had she gone through to give up on fixing them?
Trailblazer braced her servos on his chest and looked up at him. It was silent. It was soft.
She blinked her lovely optics, and smiled. And it was as genuine as it could be. It had been months and her gaze never changed when she looked at him. Reached up to stroke his cheek, and made Random's spark flutter. It was the kindness, maybe. Her sweetness, how she looked at him like he was something real, and not the tortured little jester of the Decepticons. Could be the fact that he knew what it felt like. Maybe she'd had it worse. Most definitely, she'd had it worse than him.
But that all was gone now. Trailblazer was with the Decepticons. And, as much as they now considered her Blitzwing's "thing", Random had always had a special respect for her. She'd fought and she'd won. Made it out.
It was just living, now. Keeping alive here, that would be easier with Blitzwing.
The mech blinked his optics. How long had she been there for him? Talking to him when he was down- putting up with him, right? She could never really love him, the undesirable thing, of course. But she did a hell of a job putting up with Random, talking to him, holding him (or trying to, when he allowed it).
He- no, she didn't- how could she love him, when he didn't even love himself?
The mech's gaze fell, and Trailblazer shifted in his lap. She reached for him, and said in a gentle murmur,
"What's the matter, spikey?"
The nickname, her gentle tone. Her servo on his cheek. Don't cry. She was so damn gentle. No, don't cry. No matter how soft and bright she was. Never- he couldn't-
Trailblazer's stabilizers pushed against the mech's frame, and he wasn't sure what she was doing, until she crawled her way properly into his lap. The motorcycle had just been lying on him, before, a weight, a comfort.
She took his helm, in both her servos, and brought her face close to his. Nuzzled her snout to his cheek, and Blitzwing's breath hitched. He could feel hers, almost, light as a feather on his lipplates, waiting for a permission. A light warmth kicked up inside his chest, and he wanted to squirm a little. Was I always this nervous?
Neither headmate answered, but they were there, in the back. Almost as if they were waiting. Letting Random have this moment.
"Is this okay?" She whispered against his plating. He managed a nod.
"Yes." Blitzwing swallowed, nervously. "Yes- please."
Trailblazer whispered a soft thanks against his cheek. And she turned her helm, so she could kiss him. Her intake was soft, Random felt, and he stilled, like he was afraid to hurt her. And he was. That was what he did, wasn't it? He hurt them? And yet, the kiss was so soft and endearing. It was so good it made his spark burn and his throat ache.
He accepted it with such gratitude.
Then, he broke.
The mech shuddered, emotion burning raw in his throat as he tried not to cry. It failed, tears spilling. Fragging embarrassment. Always the screw-up, was he? He had to hide. He needed to go- pushing her away gently, moving to try and get up, and was startled a little when she clung to him.
"Shh- no, no- stay?" Trailblazer cupped his face in both her servos, as soon as she'd heard the plating shift. Making him stay. Their first kiss, like this. He'd taken too long. He was ruining it.
Random stammered out something incoherent.
Trailblazer wiped at his tears and let him cry. Shushed and soothed him. Her weight on his chest was somehow comforting, like a dear pet or a heavy blanket.
"Why?" He managed out at last. "Why me?"
"Because," Trailblazer murmured, reaching down to stroke his neck. It was all tender, loving touches. Her expression was soft and not frustrated, judgmental, or harsh. "I love you. Aren't I allowed to comfort the mech I love?"
"I'm not the one you love." Random sniffled. He laughed, a bitter noise. "Them. Not me."
"Hmph." She paused, searching for her words. "Fine, then. You're not."
There.
There it was.
He was stupid to-
"You're a part of him. Of the mech I love." She stroked his cheek, and pulled closer to him.
...What?
"I love you, Blitzwing, wholly. Each part." She kissed his forehelm, and the ache in his spark burned anew. "That means you, too." Another kiss. Random let out a broken noise, held onto her back for support. "So, by that logic, I love you too. I do. No more and no less than I love them."
Wait. He had to- wait!
Did she- did she really..
..mean all that?
"You...?"
"I do. I promise I do."
The mech sniffled again. He covered his face in a facade of wiping his tears away, to hide his shame. Semi-facade, it occurred to him, as dampness collected on the mech's servo. Laughing again, Random just reached out and hugged her to his frame, breathing deep and hard, not sure what to make of it. It hurt, but it hurt good. He'd fallen for her, as much as it hurt to admit, but she had fallen for him, too, hadn't she? No one behaves like this out of spite or trickery. No one said things like that and kissed so earnest because they wanted to hurt him, right?
Maybe, if she could love him, then, he wasn't so bad. Maybe then he could learn to love himself too.
"Love? Are you all right?"
"No." Random sniffed, and chuckled. "Never have been." He reached to touch her face, his digits running alongside her delicate helm, the grey of her cheek and the midnight plating. "But maybe-" a pause to collect himself. "Maybe now, I think I could be."
Maybe with you, he thought to himself, holding his femme to his chest. Maybe I could be all right, again.