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It's been a month since Prime left. After the whole Lockdown issue. After Cemetery Wind had been disbanded and the Autobots weren't being targeted and murdered in cold blood anymore. A message had gone out to let any Autobots that had survived the massacre on Earth know that it was safe to come out. That they could make their presence known and once again group up with the four Autobots (that were still here) from the big fight in Hong Kong.
Thirty-one days. It's been thirty-one days and not a single Autobot had made itself known. Crosshairs was seated up on a decently high perch, optics scanning his surroundings in what would seem to most people to be utter laziness. Which wasn't exactly farfetched— the paratrooper was bored. Nothing of real importance has happened after the humans had given them a new base in South Dakota. After Prime had ditched them.
He was still bitter over it. Being left on a planet that wanted to... still wants to, have him killed. That killed people he knew just because they wanted to melt them down and use them. Even just thinking about it brought a scowl to the paratrooper's faceplates, and his servos clench in annoyance.
And this was one of those moments, as Crosshairs vented in aggravation and leaned back, uncrossing his legs and stretching them out. "Fuckin' hell..."
He didn't like having his thoughts wander. Having his processor dredge up the vivid memory of seeing the video of Leadfoot under attack. Having his imagination take it and run wild with the other two Wreckers. Having nightmares of seeing Roadbuster graphicly murdered before his very optics while he was incapable of helping him. Waking up with a jolt, panicked and honestly crying.
The worst part was he couldn't do anything about it, or tell anyone. Hound was the only one who knew about what was going on between them. The only one who truly understood the connection Crosshairs had with the Wreckers; how he was actually rather devoted to them, while with others it seemed almost flaky despite the fact that he was actually quite loyal— deep down, when he needed to be. But he couldn't trust Hound. Not with this.
The sound of static from his comm opening up drew the paratrooper out of his musing, an optic ridge raising a bit as he leaned forward and propped his elbow to his knee, resting his chin in his servo.
He didn't even wait to let the person on the other side of the line speak before rudely cutting them off. "Well 'ello love, what can Ah do ya fer?" His tone was mocking, mostly because he /knew/ who was on the other side and that with the distance between them it was one of the times he could get away with it.
"Cut the crap and get down here," The annoyance portrayed in the other's tone made Crosshairs smirk, "Yer gonna wanna be here to see this."
Confusion crossed Crosshairs' faceplates, smirk dropping instantly as he peered down from his perch to notice Hound down below and staring up at him. The little shit gave the walking armoury a wave as he prodded for information.
"Ah'd doubt that. Somthin' good 'bout ta happen? Otherwise Ah'm much too comfortable up here." It's not like anyone could really get the paratrooper down. The only person who could easily reach him was off base scouting, so the gunsmech was all too happy to take advantage of the situation.
"We made contact with another Autobot. He's not too far out now, and it's probably best you're there when he gets here." Hound's words hadn't urged Crosshairs to start making his way down right away as the paratrooper instead scanned what he could see of the front and right side of the base again before looking down again.
"He comin' in th' back way, or are ya pullin' mah leg?" He wasn't quite sure he believed Hound. He wouldn't put it past his superior to lie to get him down and force him to do something useful. Not that him keeping watch wasn't useful, it's just one of the things that could be done without due to how secure they were.
Hound gave Crosshairs a look like he was gonna shoot him, a look that the paratrooper was all too used to seeing at this point. "Just getchur ass down here and find out for yourself."
"Alright, alright," Crosshairs waved him off before he swung himself over the side of his perch, sliding down a bit before finding a good grip and starting his descent, "No need ta be rude about it."
He heard Hound give a huff before he started walking away and glanced down with a grin on his faceplates. He considered this a win, even if he was coming down, because he'd annoyed Hound into leaving and didn't get a gun to the face. The base having that perch for him was the best thing ever.
It was a good few minutes before the Corvette was close enough to drop down completely without any risk, and the moment he could he pushed off, landing in a crouch, coattails semi-controlling his fall more out of programmed habit than necessity. He gave a quick last look around before turning and entering into the base and heading towards the back entrance.
The paratrooper tried not to let his processor wander too much on his way— there were two people he would figure Hound would actually get him for if someone really was coming in. But he didn't want to get his hopes up on the idea. Anyone showing up would be better than having so few left, and for all he knew it could be a newcomer.
Actually, he mused, it being a newcomer would make far more sense than it being someone that's been on Earth for the... purge. The humans were effective at tearing down Cybertronians if they could separate them away from aid. It was a horrifying sight to have seen, even if just via a bad recording.
The Corvette shuddered, shaking his helm to clear his thoughts as he strode into the room Hound was in and already awaiting the incoming Autobot. "He better be here soon or else yer gonna regret forcing meh ta come down." It was a loose threat if anything, and Hound could tell it by the tone in the other's voice. Crosshairs honestly wasn't in the mood to deal with nearly getting shot, he was just utterly impatient.
"Can't ya be a little patient for once in your life?" Hound shot Crosshairs a look, watching as the paratrooper gave a nonchalant shrug.
"It ain't really in my programming, an' Ah'm pretty sure yer well aware of that~." But after that, the green and black mech turned his attention towards the entrance. He could hear the tell tale sounds of an approaching engine. The built up anxiousness in him at the buried idea that it might be one of the two Wreckers made the smaller mech twitch, his pedes kicking at the floor in impatience.
It was a moment later an Impala sped through the opened entrance in the back of the base, slowing down and skidding a bit as the frame started to twist and take a new form. And while Crosshairs hadn't personally seen this person in their Earth based altmode, the color and array of weapons the vehicle was decked out with was all too familiar. It was almost too good to be true.
The paratrooper almost couldn't believe his optics, and a huge sum of it was likely due to the disconnection he felt. The lack of feeling anything, as a matter of fact. His servo found itself hovering over one of his twin SMGs on the off chance that this was some trick— some sick, twisted trick and the being before him wasn't who he looked like he was.
But the moment their optics made contact, even through the others' visor, the Corvette faltered, and let down a guard he hadn't even realized he'd had held up for probably months after being separated on Earth. A familiar comfort wafted between them, and his arm dropped loosely by his side as he took half a step forward before freezing. They hadn't... exactly ended on the best note.
"Buster..." He couldn't stop the nickname from leaving his mouth, though it was hushed significantly, almost as if speaking too loud would shatter this reality to reveal that Crosshairs was actually alone, and Roadbuster wasn't to be found. So quiet, in fact, that most people would probably question whether or not they actually heard the normally loudmouthed paratrooper utter anything.
Roadbuster probably heard him— as a matter of fact, hearing the nickname seemed to snap him out of the trance he was in (that they were both in), causing him to break optic contact with the paratrooper and glance around the large room. It was a short moment before visored optics settled on Hound, ignoring Crosshairs' existence.
"Dun' tell me this is all we got left, Ah cannae believe that." Crosshairs wasn't as hurt (on a good day it'd be more playful than serious anyways) about being ignored as he might otherwise had been if he wasn't just relieved to see that the Wrecker's leader wasn't dead. Not that he was even convinced he had any right to be— the fight that distanced them years ago before he was pulled away was due to his own stupidity.
If he'd known everything would go wrong and they'd be separated for a hundred and fourteen years, he'd probably had found a way to avoid it. Maybe apologize if he couldn't because being reckless was just a part of who he was. Granted, apologizing on the spot isn't really his thing either. Let alone giving a sincere apology in the first place.
Whether or not it was his thing, he already felt the apology bubbling up, demanding to be released from his vocoder. But now wasn't the right time nor place. Especially not if Roadbuster had decided he wanted nothing to do with him. It'd just be hard on them to acknowledge the past if one of them was over it and wanted nothing to do with the other.
"Nah, Bee and Drift are out right now." Hound's voice pulled Crosshairs' from his thoughts, the paratrooper's azure optics finally tearing from the emerald Wrecker and cutting around the room as if in disinterested boredom.
"An' Prime up an' ditched us." He chimed in spitefully, earning himself a glare from Hound. He gave the weapons' expert an over-exaggerated shrug, undeterred by the warning look he was given. "Somtin' 'bout lookin' fer our creators or some bull."
"Th't's it?" Though Roadbuster's tone was flat, Crosshairs easily picked up on the disappointment— the crushed hope in finding the rest of his team waiting for him and alright when he grouped up with the Autobots. And that only made the paratrooper wince internally; there's a chance Roadbuster didn't even know what had happened to Leadfoot. Someone was going to have to tell him.
It'd probably end up being him, too. He just... wasn't sure how to go about it, azure optics looking to the back entrance instead of chancing locking optics again. "Yah... humans really fucked us over wit' our numbers an' shit." That's all he could get out, frown forming. Primus forbid he phrase that in a way that showed how much he actually hated that fact; the fact that fleshies had torn people he knew apart to make cheap knock-off Cybertronians. It disgusted him.
Despite having looked away, Crosshairs could practically feel Roadbuster's attention back on him again, causing him to shift a bit under the stare. There was a very short, rather awkward moment of silence that stretched between the three of them before Hound finally spoke up again.
"Well, I got shit to do." That effectively drew both the other mech's attention to the largest one in the room, "So how about you show him around the new base and catch him up on shit, yeah?"
Crosshairs opened his mouth as if to refuse, but Hound was already half way out of the room— he'd stationed himself so he could make a quick exist, Crosshairs only just now realized. Instead of causing a scene as he might have done otherwise, the paratrooper let his mouth shut, attention shifting back to his previous leader.
"Hospitality never really was 'is strong suit." The vivid green mech finally offered up, giving a half shrug. He figured he knew exactly what Hound was up to. Leaving two people who had to... make up? Figure out what they were? Where to go with what they had, if even they had anything anymore? All of the above...? Well. They had shit to work out.
"Ain't yers either." Roadbuster pointed out, not as scornfully as it could have been; as it would have been long ago, before they got together. But Crosshairs tried to keep that from making him too hopeful.
"No fuckin' shit," Crosshairs offered his ex-leader a wide, shitty grin. "But hey, ya never know. Maybe Ah've gotten better."
The paratrooper turned on his heel, coattails giving a small flourish as he started walking off— he figured Roadbuster would follow after without needing him to speak up, and after a moment's hesitation Crosshairs was proven right as he heard the heavier foot steps of the Impala. Good, he was still trying to figure out how to go about what he knew they needed to address, and Roadbuster following silently instead of arguing or causing a scene let the Corvette focus on his thought process.
As they slipped into a bigger part of the base, with catwalks to keep their human allies up and out of harms' way (and give them a better chance at face to face interactions), Crosshairs slowed down, dropping next to the darker green mech with an internal sigh. First things first; it's probably best to get the bad news out and out of the way before even attempting to figure out if they were still good. Better than everything going bad, and having to let someone else tell the Wreckers' leader that one of his teammates was dead.
"Okay, fuck," the paratrooper had more or less muttered that to himself, as if steeling himself for the next part as well as grabbing the other's attention. "Look, it's probably best ya hear this from me than jus' anyone else. Those fleshy bastards got their filthy 'ands on Lead."
He only looked to Roadbuster after the words left his mouth. He didn't want to straight up say 'they killed him, tore him apart while he was fighting for his life'. He wasn't... capable of it. If it weren't someone he'd known almost his entire existence maybe he'd have an easier time just straight up telling it like it is.
But it didn't take too long for the weapon clad mech to catch on, the tenseness in his frame slackening just noticeably if one were looking for it. "D'ye see it 'appen..?"
Crosshairs' optics make contact with the floor at the question, a heavy frown forming. He didn't see the Wrecker actually get ended, just torn into. He didn't need to— nor did he want to— see the guy actually offlined.
"Up ta ah point, yah," he finally replied after a moment, "'e went down fightin', Ah only know of it 'cause of some recordin'." Anyone could kid themselves into believing that maybe he escaped last second, but Crosshairs wasn't much of one for denial. And was rather pessimistic about everything.
Roadbuster finally sobered completely, so much so that just about anyone would be able to notice it. There was another rather long moment of silence before the Wreckers' leader managed to find his voice again. "Wot 'bout Top?"
The paratrooper managed a shrug, a soft, rather bitter laugh escaping him. "No one knows what 'appened ta him. Could still be out there. Ah dunno, if they could get Lead..."
He trailed off, not wanting to continue that thought. It was the first time since he saw the video that his processor wasn't allowed to go 'then they might have got Roadbuster too'. It was a dark, selfish sort of relief he felt at that fact. He still felt awful about losing someone who was practically family.
He's just more used to losing people he's attached to than anyone ever should be. When he saw the video, he was devastated. But all most of his processor could dredge up was 'it was bound to happen'. He'd been considered a bad luck charm for any team he was a part of. It'd just been well over a thousand years since it was thrown in his face with another person dying– someone he'd grown to care about.
But he knew very well he wasn't the only one that was in pain over the loss. Nor was he self-centered enough to think he was going to be the only one to beat themselves up over it. He knows what it's like to lose someone you were the superior of. How much one blames themselves for such a thing.
It might not have been completely written on Roadbuster's face— a deep frown while the optics were hidden behind his visor— but Crosshairs didn't need to see it to know that's exactly what Roadbuster was doing. And he wasn't even sure how to help him, or if he even can. But he... he had to try. He couldn't stand the idea of his ex-leader beating himself up over something that he couldn't prevent. He knew how much it took out of someone.
With some hesitation, the paratrooper managed to reach out and grasp the Wrecker's shoulder, dragging the emerald mech out of his thoughts. "Oi, dun' start beatin' yerself up over it. There wasn't anything ya could have done."
"Ah let us get split up..." The admittance almost caught Crosshairs off guard. He hadn't exactly been expecting Roadbuster to actually admit to feeling bad, even if they were close at some point. Or... were still close? He wasn't sure just yet.
"Th' humans were very good at splittin' us up, it ain't yer fault." He's convinced that if the small group left hadn't found a safe place to lay low, the humans would have been able to separate them and none of them would still be alive. They had to be good at separating the Autobots if they managed to split up the Wreckers.
Roadbuster finally shrugged Crosshairs' servo from his shoulder, and the paratrooper had to bite back a frown at the action. He knew it's just how Roadbuster was. He didn't mind, other than his stubbornness to accept comfort tended to upset Crosshairs a bit. He just wanted him happy...
"Shoulda done better at keepin' us together." The paratrooper's arms cross now that his physical attempt at comfort was unwanted, finally letting the frown play across his lips a bit.
"Ah know ya," and man, was it pretty well actually, "ya did yer best. It ain't yer fault. No one was really able ta keep together until there were s'few of us an' we hid where we did. So at least try ta not beat yerself up over it, a'ight? It ain't fair for ya ta do so. Jus' gotta look ahead now." He'd almost winced at his words; it was easier said than done, and the Corvette had a lot of practice with it. Roadbuster, on the other hand, had been in charge of those two since before Crosshairs even knew him.
"Easy fer ya ta say." And there was the expected bitterness, though it still hurt Crosshairs, and made the paratrooper avoid optic contact. "Did ye even try ta come back?"
"What—..." He... wasn't exactly expecting that question of all things Roadbuster could have followed up with, confusion taking over his features for a moment as he looked back to his mate. "Of course Ah did. Things jus' got too hectic. An' ya guys were moving 'round a lot it was difficult ta find ya if Ah had th' chance."
Crosshairs fell silent as it was Roadbuster's turn to look away, before forcing himself to continue. He didn't like the idea of just letting this drop into silence. He wanted everything to be okay. "Ah'm sorry..." That wasn't what he was going for, but he couldn't find anything else to say at that moment, "Ah wish Ah hadn't left willin'ly, or at least that it was on ah better note. Ah didn't wanna stay away that long. Ya guys are like mah family..."
"Th't only makes havin' been away worse." Crosshairs' crossed his arms, fiddling with the 'tooth pick' in his mouth. He's right, and there was no way the paratrooper was going to say otherwise.
"Ah know...." the Corvette tightened his arms around himself after pointing that out rather blatantly. "Ain't like Ah wasn't gonna git forced ta leave if Ah said Ah wasn't goin'."
He understood where Roadbuster was coming from— really, he did, but it's still frustrating to deal with. He wasn't suppose to have been gone that long, he couldn't blame him for thinking he ditched them.
Crosshairs glared away and took a deep vent, before reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose and continuing. "Look, if yer not gonna forgive meh fer it jus' up an' say it. Ah dun' wanna keep mah hopes up if yer not, okay?"
The silence that followed Crosshairs' words put him on edge with uncertainty, but he'd rather Roadbuster straighten this all out immediately than to drive himself crazy trying to fix something that wasn't going to be fixed. Because all he's wanted to do since Roadbuster walked in the door was pull him close and relish in knowing his sparkmate was alive and with him again, but being shoved off and rejected would hurt much more than the years of separation did.
".... Ah missed ya." Roadbuster admitting that actually caught Crosshairs off guard. He was expecting the worst possible outcome due to pessimism. He figured Roadbuster would have told him he wanted nothing more to do with him and to fuck off.
A small, stupid grin played across the Corvette's lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Messed ya too." He let that sit for a moment, but was already feeling like he could slip back to his usual self, which lead him to add, "Yer th' most fun ta annoy after all."
Roadbuster rolled his optics, but Crosshairs could feel he hadn't made a mistake over the familiar playful annoyance at his words. "Figures, ye fuckin' asshole."
That made the small grin grow on Crosshairs' faceplates, surprisingly still not shit eating as he reached out and grabbed Roadbuster's servo, giving it a small squeeze before releasing it and turning around. "Ya still gotta finish th' tour though. C'mon, if it goes well Ah'll show ya th' armory."
Again Roadbuster rolled his optics, but followed after the vivid green mech. They were both as happy as possible after all the grim news. They were finally together again.