[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Two Can Keep a Secret (Closed, Javelin, Thunder)

[Javelin]

Week 1 | Day 7
---

(Roughly a mile from Omega, near a large outcropping of stones.  6 pm in the evening)

An almost chill breeze blew among the stones and boulders, kicking up debris and setting it whirling about.  Now and again, there was even a dead leaf that came from somewhere, caught up in the moving currents, making ghost scratching sounds as they skittered along the ground.

Overhead, the sky was a dark grey - the rainstorm that had moved in swiftly had passed with a great deal of violence.  Thunder booming loudly overhead, as it chased the brilliant lightning that flashed among the clouds.  There were puddles on the ground from the sudden downpour that took the area by surprise.  Animals had fled to their burrows, or sought whatever shelter they could while the clouds punished the earth below. 

And as quickly as it had arrived, it left, fleeing swiftly to the east.

Javelin stood on the ground, near one of the larger boulders in the area, using it as a sort of cover should anyone suddenly show up.  It was just a natural thing to her - always have some cover in sight, when outside.  Her years of recon had drilled that into her.

She stood beside a large puddle, watching the wind make patterns over the surface as it blew, ripples and lines, indicating movement when none could be seen, otherwise.

Turning slightly, she cast her gaze towards the east, watching as the fleeing storm continued to throw lightning from cloud to cloud, occasionally tossing a bolt earthward.  A low rumble of thunder retorted.  It sounded surly, disappointed.

Movement from the corner of her eye drew her gaze back to the puddle, and she watched as a large leaf was caught.  It was half dead, a mix of green and brown.  As the wind blew, it turned around and around within the puddle, moved by a force that could not be seen, unable to get free, or find a direction.

She knew how it felt.

Javelin bent slightly, and using her thumb and forefinger, managed to pinch the leaf lightly.  Lifting it from the puddle, she turned, raising it up, clearing it from the earth.  After a moment, she opened her fingers, and let the leaf go.  It was instantly snatched, and went whirling off into the distance.

Luck to you, she thought.

Javelin waited.

After leaving Carbine, she had returned to her quarters, and paced.  Her processor was in turmoil. She was angry at herself for a variety of reasons.  Originally having wanted to help Carbine, she only succeeded in making him angry, and possibly giving him reason to distrust her.  Why had she asked him to reveal his past to her, only to balk when it had been her time?

He's paid his dues, a voice in her mind spoke firmly, he did his time.  You haven't.  You still have a lot to risk.

That doesn't mean anything, she argued with herself, It was a shitty thing to do.

And what you're about to do isn't?

Javelin shied back from that line of thought, but the other voice - her own, and yet a harder, colder version, continued to speak, His crimes were bad, and he did his time.  What do you think will happen if they find out what you did?  It's grounds for execution, according to war, isn't it?  Spark extraction?

Shut up!

She turned, starting to pace slightly, still limping faintly on her left leg.

Unable to recharge, Javelin had thought and thought, unable to put it down, worrying it like Bolo with a toy.  Finally, she hadn't been able to take any more, and had decided she needed to seek out Carbine's friend.  The only one who might have the answers Carbine himself didn't tell.

She just needed to know if she should be helping him fight or not.  Because if he needed her, she'd go after Windshield herself.  But she wouldn't risk it if this was just some "Alpha male" thing. 

If Windshield was really a threat....she would act.

The message she had sent to Thunder's personal data pad had been very simple.  A request to meet him at the location she stood at now, at the time it was now.

All she could do now, was leave it in Thunder's hand.

[Thundercloud]

Thundercloud might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but despite all evidence to the contrary (and there was a lot of it), he wasn't an idiot. When a person sends you a message over a closed communication channel like a datapad, instead of in person or over comms., it's 'cause the information is too sensitive to risk being overheard. It means someone is trying to talk to you about some private, possibly sketchy shit. The fact that Javelin had only given him a time and a place - no context - only reinforced this idea. She was clever, he had to give her that. She knew better than to give out any unnecessary or incriminating information, knew to keep things as vague as possible so the message would be harmless if somebody other than Thunder laid eyes on it.

Thundercloud would have appreciated her guile, if he wasn't too busy being bothered by her motivation to meet up with him. He could only think of a few reasons why she'd wanna get him out of the base, well out of range of their crazy-ass security director's cameras, and all of 'em were varying degrees of unpleasant. One reason was that she was gonna murder him, which, okay, fair, he probably did something to deserve it, but still. Another was that this was gonna be some kind of out-of-the-blue love confession, which was such a hilariously unlikely scenario that Thundercloud couldn't even finish the thought without laughing. The last reason, the one that seemed both most likely and least pleasant to Thundercloud personally, was that she wanted to talk about Carbine.

Because of course she would, that's all anybody wanted to talk to him about since shit hit the fan with Windshield. Sure, most people had the common decency to not ask outright, or to at the very least Segway into things instead of coming out swinging right out of the gate, but still. He was gettin' real sick of being asked what the hell happened, why it happened, almost as sick as he was of people looking at him like he was a lost puppy. Hand to God, he was gonna smack the ugly off the next person to get on his ass with their weird, concerned looks and condescending questions about how he was holding up.

Thankfully, Javelin had already proven herself to be a pretty smart femme. Whatever it was she wanted to talk about, Thundercloud felt reasonably sure his own well-being wasn't going to be brought up in conversation. If he had any doubts that it might, he honestly might have ignored her message entirely, stayed holed up in his empty room rather than risk being looked at like he was only half of a person now.

Yeah, no. Screw that. And Also screw Red Alert's whole 'don't leave without telling someone where you're going and when you're expected to be back' shit. The last thing he needed was that guy breathing down his neck, getting all up in his business, wondering where he was going and why. It wasn't like he planned on being out all that long anyway - just long enough to see what Jav wanted, answer her questions or tell her to get bent, and then go home. Maybe take a detour on the way, see some sights, blow off some steam. Depended on how the conversation went.

Despite not being at all eager to actually have it, Thundercloud wasn't late to the meet-up. It's hard to be late to anything when you can travel fast enough to break the sound barrier, and while he could have dicked around a bit, made Jav sweat things out a little, wondering if he was gonna show or not, he ultimately decided she had earned the right to a timely arrival. Him and Jav, they hadn't interacted much one-on-one, but Carbine was sweet on her and she gave him tons of shit, which put her solidly in Thunder's good graces.

He landed a good distance away, far enough that Javelin wouldn't get caught up in the whirlwind of dust and scattering pebbles as he transformed mid-fall and landed solidly on his feet. He raised a hand, offering a lazy salute in greeting as he lumbered his way over. The boulder might have offered her cover from behind, but it hadn't been difficult to find her when looking through a bird's eye view - granted, he also had coordinates telling him precisely where she'd be, but still. Point was, he didn't have trouble finding her, even if he did have trouble wanting to.

"Hey."

He slowed to a stop a short distance away, far enough that he was out of arms reach, but not so far that the boulder didn't offer him the same coverage as it did Javelin.

"You got somethin' you wanted to say to me?"

He tried to keep his tone neutral, but it might have bordered on the colder side of cool. He wasn't about to pretend like he wanted to be there, but at the same time, he wasn't keen on broadcasting just how much he'd rather be doing damn near anything else.

[Javelin]

Thunder hadn’t been able to sneak up on Javelin.

That wasn’t because she was that good of a scout. In all honesty, she doubted Thunder would be able to sneak up on anyone in his alt form. The heavy sound of jet engines echoed quite a distance before he was visible, and she turned, watching him as he landed and made his way towards her.

Primus, he was large.

She had seen him before, of course. But usually at a distance, joking around with Carbine. They had never really been introduced, and even though he wasn’t standing right alongside her, Javelin could still sense the bulk of the mech. Carbine was taller than she was – and Thunder was taller than Carbine.

Despite that, it wasn’t his size that made her hesitate. She was familiar with large mecha, having hung around Kaon with Backdraft. It was his....persona.

He looked tough. He looked wary, and now, both his tone and what he said did nothing to put her at ease.

“Hey.”

Javelin kept the boulder to the side. She didn’t think she was going to need it, not against him. Even if he told her to shove off, he probably wasn’t going to open fire on her.

Probably.

A distant rumble of thunder from the east sounded, the clouds complaining that it was being forced to move on, to leave it’s toys behind. Overhead, the sky remained a dark grey.

Might as well get on with it.

A small gust of wind kicked up a few scattered leaves, pinning them against her shoulder, where they crackled and tickled. Raising a left hand, she wiped them clear, letting the wind continue to carry them on.

“Well, not so much tell, really, as ask. I need some information, and I’m hoping you can give it to me.”

She shifted faintly, shifting her weight from one leg to another, and folded her arms before her. It was a slightly defensive stance, as if shielding herself from something.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you probably already know what this is about. You’ve probably been bombarded with questions already, and by people you know a hell of a lot better than me.

It’s about Carbine.”

[Thundercloud]

By the look of her, Javelin was about as eager to be having this little rendezvous as Thundercloud was. It might have mollified him a bit under different circumstances, knowing she wouldn't have put him in this situation if she had any other choice. He might have even appreciated her acknowledging how fed up he was with hearing his buddy's name coming out of other people's mouths like it was some hot new buzzword that everybody just had to try.

He might have, but he didn't, because whatever charitable feelings he might have been able to spare for Javelin had been used up within 48 hours of Carbine's incarceration in an effort to not completely lose his shit on somebody.

So yeah, sue him. He wasn't in the mood to be understanding, to play nice and force some good humor so they could navigate through what was undoubtedly going to be an absolute clusterfuck of a conversation without suffocating under all the tension. Even though he would probably feel like a total dick once time had put some distance between himself and his piss poor mood, he didn't want to take the higher ground. He wanted to be petty, to be pissed off, to use his words like teeth and bare them against anyone who came near him.

He knew how that sounded, how if he said as much to anybody they'd probably think he was some kind of feral animal. It wouldn't have been too far from the truth, but still, he wasn't about to welcome the comparison when Carbine seemed to be the only 'Bot who understood how to handle an aggressive dog - who understood that there were all kinds of reasons a dog might show its teeth and hardly any of them had anything to do with genuine ill intent. Thundercloud supposed that was something he was gonna have to workaround, for however long Carbine was out of the picture. He had forgotten how hard it could be to around folks who didn't get how his brain worked, forgotten how quick shit could escalate when he didn't have Carbine around to be the fucking dog whisperer and mediate things for him.

He wasn't sure it was even worth the effort to try, but he figured if he was gonna practice self-regulating his own inner attack-dog, Javelin was as good a person to do it with as any. She was tough, capable. She had put up with plenty of Carbine's shit and given as good as she got - she could probably handle it. More than that she was thoughtful, she measured her responses and weighed her considerations a lot more carefully than Thundercloud ever bothered too. He figured if anyone could convince a hurt dog not to bite, it would be her.

And to her credit, she had a pretty good opening argument - at least until she went ahead and mentioned Carbine anyway. It was to both of their benefit that Thundercloud had already been expecting that to be the case, otherwise his reaction might have been a bit more extreme than a hot, humorless laugh.

"Yeah, figures."

He shook his head, a sharp sardonic smile flashing across his face as quick as a blink, there one second and gone the next.

"My guy ices you out an' you think you can go behind his back an' get me to tell you all the shit he won't? Man, fuck you."

He half turned, prepared to storm off then and there, before stopping short and willing himself to not completely lose his shit just sixty seconds into the conversation. He exhaled sharply, forced himself to turn back to look at Javelin. His expression was hard, his jaw working as he chewed on his next few words, as though trying to get a taste for them before spitting them out. Unconsciously, his wings held themselves high above his shoulders, raised like hackles that refused to be smoothed down.

"--I ain't a snitch." He began, feeling privately insulted that he even needed to establish this point.

"Anything he don't want you knowin', I ain't sayin'. You push an' I'm gone, understand?"

[Javelin]

Javelin hadn’t been sure what to expect when Thunder started talking to her. She could only rely on Carbine’s mentioning of him. And according to Carbine, Thunder was a friend and all, but he was sort of short on brains and big on fists. It was entirely possible it was Carbine’s way of being close to the large mech, that camaraderie where you insult and pick and poke, but it’s all in good humour. It was also entirely possible he was right.

Whatever his reasons were, as Thunder spoke, Javelin accessed his ways of speaking. His mannerisms.

He was angry, that much was clear. Pissed off. And angry, pissed off people rarely hid their methods of talking. The way they used words. The way they stood moved.

There was no doubt that Thunder was an imposing figure, and the way he spoke only doubled that experience.

She had expected him to be annoyed and angry, and so had been prepared for it, willing to accept nasty digs and pokes. Willing to put up with snotty attitudes and maybe even being pushed out of the way, with Thunder attempting to impose a “You’re not his friend, I’M his friend, you’re not wanted” line in the sand. Hell, she wasn’t entirely sure if Carbine and Thunder were just friends or if there was more. If so, Thunder might resent her presence all that much more, considering the stupid silly flirt game they played. So all in all, she was ready to take the hits.

That changed slightly with Thunder’s simple use of, “Man, fuck you.”

Her optics glittered with anger for a second, an almost instinctual action, much like a dog’s hackles suddenly going up, the animal on full alert, as it waited for the attack from the other dog. Not a defensive, “Leave me alone” motion, but a full understanding that this was about to go down, and already kicking the fight or flight into full gear.

If Thunder was the slightest bit observant, however, he’s likely notice how she pulled it back, almost like drawing back a loaded weapon, strangling back her jagged field, drawing her own self into control.

She took a deep invent, letting the cooling air drift over her strained interior, forcing herself to calm down.

When she spoke, her voice was a little more relaxed. Javelin wasn’t used to interacting so openly with someone in a very long time. While she didn’t trust Thunder – she was no longer holding up a shield to try and remain hidden.

“I don’t want you to do or tell me anything you don’t want to, alright? I’m not here to pry info out of you, or...I’m not looking for scraps. I don’t write a gossip mag for the base. That’s not what I’m after.”

Shifting her weight slightly, Javelin loosely crossed her arms in front of her, looking away for a minute.

“I tried to talk to him the other day, and I...fucked it up. I was trying to find out what happened. I was trying to explain to him that he’s not the only one with crime in his past. I did some bad shit too. Only, after he told me some of the stuff he did, I noticed the camera in the room, and I....I clammed up.”

Javelin turned her gaze back to Thunder, “I was, and still am, an absolute idiot. I panicked. I’ve done some stuff that I...don’t know if incarceration would qualify, and I just panicked. So of course he doesn’t trust me, why would he?”

Javelin shifted her weight again, “I was just trying to find out if he’s in danger. From that ‘Con.”

Jittery, uneasy, she turned, and started pacing slightly. As she continued to talk, her hands and arms became involved, motioning as she paced.

“From what I know of Carbine, from what I’ve picked up from others around the base, he’s not the “I don’t like your laugh so I’m going to punch you in the face until it falls off” kinda guy. He’s the “I don’t like your laugh so I’m hide in your quarters and stab you in the back until you’re dead” kinda guy. He doesn’t want to be caught for his actions. So just flat out punching the guy in the face like that, in full view of Patch and the cameras, doesn’t make sense. So what happened? Was it a sort of self defence? Did he threaten Carbine somehow?”

Javelin stopped pacing, looking back to Thunder, “I know he’s been in jail. Is this Windshield someone he knew in there? Were they rivals or something?”

[Thundercloud]

Any other time, Thundercloud might have appreciated that Javelin was being open with him, that she was sharing sensitive information about herself that could put her in a vulnerable position. It showed that she wasn't playing games, that she was willing to barter information she didn't necessarily want to tell for information Thundercloud didn't necessarily want to share. It also said a little about how she regarded him, how she at least trusted him enough to not take what she had given him and use it against her. It might've been a nice sentiment, in any other circumstance, but things being how they were - well. Thunder didn't see it as a good sign, something to appreciate. He saw it as a whole lot of backstory that he didn't ask for.

He tried not to let it show too openly, but even with Javelin's show of good faith, he wasn't happy with her. He wasn't happy about a lot of things, but people poking their noses into his and Carbine's business was a special kind of irritating - even if it was for a good cause, with noble intentions. It wasn't right, him being so pissed off at Javelin just because she was worried and wanted to help, but there was no helping it. Thundercloud knew himself well enough to know that trying not to be angry would only make things worse, that if he tried to smother all the heat from his smaller, petty grievances they would inevitably build until he combusted and blew the fuck up on someone. It was better to keep his displays of temper small, a string of fire-crackers instead of one whole stick of dynamite. He wasn't good company in either scenario, but at most a pack of black-cats would cost someone a few fingers, not their life.

Not that Thundercloud had any designs on Javelin's fingers, or her bodily integrity in general. He was pissed off and he wanted her to leave him alone, but that was something to growl and raise his hackles about, not bite.

Still, the taste for it was there - the instinct telling him to lash out, to attack, to hurt before he was hurt himself. He swallowed the feeling down, still having enough sense to recognize it as irrational, and worked his jaw as he weighed Javelin's questions alongside a few possible responses.

He stared down at her, hard, not because he was trying to intimidate her but because he needed something to focus on while his brain worked and she just happened to be there. Any potential discomfort he might have given her was just an unintended bonus.

Eventually his gaze broke away, his optics shutting briefly as he shook his head and let out a short, sharp sigh.

"...He really ain't told you nothin', huh?"

He didn't know why he was surprised. They had already established that Carbine had iced Javelin out - that much was a given. Thundercloud just hadn't expected Carbine to have not clarified anything at all, even the things that weren't damning, things that might have exonerated him in Javelin's eyes. The fact that she was completely in the dark, hadn't even been given a reason for why he flew off the handle the way he did - it seemed a lot to Thundercloud like Carbine was deliberately trying to alienate her. For whatever reason, the ex-cop was cutting ties, trying to burn bridges while people were still on them. He was free to do that, if he wanted. That was his prerogative. Thundercloud just wasn't so sure he was doing it for the right reasons.

"Look, you don't gotta worry about that guy, a'ight? He's a fuckin' creep but he ain't dangerous."

Windshield was a vile little shitstain on the fabric of reality, but he wasn't a threat. Thundercloud wasn't scared of him, knew Carbine wasn't either. As reasonable as Javelin's guess had been, it was way off the mark.

"What went down between him and Patches, it wasn't nothin' like you're thinkin'. It was personal, yeah, but that little fucker ain't the guy he had beef with."

He paused, debating how much more he ought to reveal - if it would even make a difference if he did. After a moment or two, he decided the whole story was bound to come out eventually, so he might as well get ahead of things while he still could.

"--Lemme ask you somethin'."

Behind him, his wings shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly, mirroring the uncertainty of his tone with their own uncertainty of placement.

"You ever been hurt by somebody? And I don't mean any of that petty feelings shit, or a getting hit by a Con who was just doin' their job. I mean gettin' hurt by somebody just 'cause they wanted you to hurt. 'Cause they got off on seein' you laid low. You ever been through somethin' like that?"

[Javelin]

Javelin continued to watch Thunder, a little warily. Whether he actively wanted to strike out against her or not, his size alone could do damage to her smaller frame. She had learned to walk with the big boys long ago, and knew to give them room, even the sweet ones. She didn’t know Thunder well enough to know how short his temper might be.

And it was apparent he was angry. She didn’t get the feeling he was angry at her, specifically, more just that he was angry...and she was there. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t strike out at her any less. Maybe more. Them not knowing each other removed any safety devices that might exist in people with short tempers.

She paused for a moment, trying to think of what to say, how to answer Thunder. It wasn’t that she was trying to manipulate him or only reveal a certain amount. It’s that it was so damned convoluted. What he did, what he said, what she said...unravelling it was difficult, and she didn’t want to bring Thunder into the middle of the story.

“No, he...he did. He told me a lot, it’s just...”

She paused, and lifted her head, meeting Thunder’s optics straight on, “I don’t know if what he told me was the truth, or if he was messing with me. For a reason, or for giggles. I obviously don’t know him like you do....but I wasn’t forged yesterday. I’ve met people like him before, and you need to validate just about everything they say. They sometimes lie for a good reason, and sometimes just because it’s fun.”

A shifting of her weight, a loud rattle of dry leaves along the ground in the high wind. To Javelin, it sounded like empty spark casings, clattering empty on a deserted battlefield; cold and lonely.

“Said he’d been to Garrus. That Windshield was Empurata, and had taken the Warden’s head. That it pissed him off so much, that’s why he hit him.”

Javelin glanced away, along the empty ravine for a moment, “I don’t think he meant he was so outraged by what had happened to the Warden. I’ve heard horror stories of Garrus, and I’m guessing it was seeing the Warden’s face again.”

She looked back at Thunder, arms crossed in an almost defensive manner, “Garrus. I’m guessing that’s where...”

Javelin didn’t say anything else, just pointed towards her throat, to where her vocoder lay. She gave a faint shrug, “Probably in a riot or something, not that it’s any of my business.”

When Thunder spoke again, she paused, peering at him quickly, optics slightly narrowed, as if not sure where this was going. As if she suspected a trap of some kind, some way to trip her up unexpectedly. After a few seconds, though, she nodded faintly, speaking again.

“Yeah. I was. Maybe not in the way you’re thinking, but...yeah. Me and others. Someone who not only didn’t give a shit if I was hurt, but expected me to hurt...or worse. Like it was my damned job.”

Her voice was suddenly angry and deeply bitter, “Oh yes. I’ve been through that.”

[Thundercloud]

Javelin spoke, and for the first time since their little talk began, Thundercloud found himself actually giving a damn about what she had to say. Not because it was important to her, or because she was disclosing things about herself that she obviously didn't speak openly about under normal circumstances. He didn't care enough about her opinion of him to feel any kind of way about her airing out her private business, giving him a glimpse into a closed chapter of her life. What he cared about was that she was on the level, that when he laid all the grisly details out on the table, she would understand. He wasn't about to air out Carbine's dirty laundry in front of somebody who didn't, someone who would look at him in the dark light his past cast him in and see a different mech than the one they saw before.

Thankfully, Javelin seemed like she got it. Like she could actually see why Carbine was the way he was, did what he did, and sympathize – not necessarily approve, just sympathize.

It helped a lot that she had already done a lot of her own digging, had her theories, came to some conclusions that were close enough to the truth that Thunder didn't bother correcting them. Instead, he waited for Javelin to say her piece, to prove that she could be trusted with what he had to say. He wasn't entirely convinced, but then, he doubted there was any better way she could have possibly responded. Her answer had been about as perfect as it could have been, so there was no reason for his lingering reluctance save for his own general dislike of talking about his best friend behind his back.

It left a bad taste in his mouth, a sick, heavy feeling in his spark. Openly bad-mouthing Carbine was fine, unrelenting trash talk was just how they rolled, but talking about things that actually mattered, about things that hit home – that was a boundary. It was a line they weren't supposed to cross.

And yet there Thunder was, crossing it.

“So you got an idea of how shitty you'd feel if you woke up one day and realized someone flipped the script.”

It was just an implication, an offhand comment that could be interpreted any number of ways, but to Thunder it felt monumental, like he had just stabbed Carbine in the back and let all his secrets spill out for everyone to see.

“There was this guy, back in G1. His name don't matter, he don't matter. Miserable son of a glitch ain't worth rememberin'. All you gotta know is he had it out for Patches. Just about everybody did, but this guy was somethin' else. Fuckin' relentless. He just kept comin' at him every chance he got, wanted to make him hurt every way he could.”

Thundercloud paused to tamp down on his growing irritation, took a second to flatten his wings down against his back so they would stop raising up past his shoulders in an open threat display for someone who wasn't even there.

“I ain't gonna tell you what all he did to him, but it was bad, alright? Just kept escalating things to see what all he could get away with, which was everything because the guards didn't give a fuck what happened to anybody wearin' a number instead of a badge.”

He shook his head, taking a quick second to fix his face so that he wouldn't look quite so much like a snarling animal bearing its teeth while he forced himself to continue.

“Then it all comes to a head, right? Shit finally goes too far. Bolo's ripped outta his dock, Carbine's bleedin' out, his head's cracked wide open and his brains are splattered all over the floor. He's dyin' and people are cheerin' like it's the best thing they ever seen.”

If he could somehow go back, find all the people who were preemptively celebrating Carbine's death just to make them regret it, he'd be able to die happy. Unfortunately, the best he can do is take cold comfort in the knowledge that most of those bastards are probably dead or living miserable lives.

“Took me cashin' in every favor I ever earned to get the med-team to waste their time on 'em. Said he was a lost cause, but somehow they pulled a miracle out of their ass. Don't know how, they ain't even had all the pieces to put him back together, but they got 'em workin' again. Sort of.”

The less said about Carbine's time as a barely-cognizant vegetable, the better.

“But that ain't even the worst part. The worst part is he had all that happen to 'em, and he never got the chance to take back any of the power he lost 'cause I beat him to it. The whole time they were stitchin' him back together, I was raisin' hell, takin' my pound of flesh. By the time they released Patches back to gen-pop, the guy who did him in had been shipped off to the ding-wing. I got a little too enthusiastic 'bout puttin' the fear of God into 'em, an' he lost his damn mind. Not that he had much of one to begin with.”

He wasn't sorry about it in the slightest, hadn't been then and he certainly wasn't now, though considering how things turned out, he has to wonder if maybe it was the wrong call - if maybe his selfishness, his childish instinct to hurt until his own hurt stopped is what lead them to where they are now. Its a harrowing thought, one that sits like acid in Thundercloud's tanks.

He crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly uncertain, plagued by the notion.

“...Maybe that was the wrong call. Maybe if he had gotten to pay that fucker back himself way back when, if he didn't have all this hate burnin' him up inside with nowhere to go, he wouldn't've blown up like he did.”

Saying it out loud, it sounds less to him like a theory and more like a statement of fact.

[Javelin]

Javelin listened as Thunder spoke. When he was describing what had happened to Carbine, her eyes narrowed, as if seeing it all happen before her. Bolo being torn out, Carbine’s helm open. It explained a lot. It explained his fear and intense dislike of having his back touched, or anyone even being behind him. No mere phobia, this. It made a lot of sense.

She remained still, watching his face as he spoke. Javelin was intense, noticing his body language, the way he spoke, how he spoke. The anger simmering there, just below the surface. Carbine wasn’t the only one carrying wounds. Thunder was too, only Thunder had one additional one Carbine didn’t.

When he finished talking, she seemed to focus on a point just over his left shoulder, eyes slightly unfocused. Her face was almost blank, as things turned in her processor. Imagining it playing out, seeing it all unfold in her head. After a second, her eyes focused again, and she looked back to the mech before her. Her voice, when she spoke, wasn’t coddling or trying to appease. She was speaking plainly.

“Maybe it was. There’s no way to tell, and even if there was, it’s done. Past is past. Thing is, if you hadn’t, things might have been even worse. Not that that’s gonna make Carbine feel any better. You carry that kind of hate around with you, nothing satisfies it, because it latches onto you inside, puts these little hooks in you, and nothing dislodges it except maybe time. You did what you felt was right. Second hand revenge is better than none. Might take him a while to realize that.”

She fell silent again for a moment, looking down at her peds, thinking. She shifted her weight from her bad leg to her good, a faint almost-wince there and gone, a flash, like a dead leaf skittering by. A second later, she looked up at him again.

“This bastard that got him...the one you spaced out. He wasn’t the warden, or Windshield, as one is dead, and the other is wearing his face. So what you’re saying is that it’s just anything related to G1 that set him off. Windshield is no direct thread to Carbine.” She paused again, then nodded, “Alright. Good. That’s one less thing I have to do.”

Javelin opened her mouth to speak, then fell silent. She wasn’t sure if she should speak or not, not sure if Thunder wanted to talk more or if he was done. But she assumed he wasn’t happy with what had happened any more than she was. Less, maybe, considering he knew about Carbine’s past and she hadn’t.

“So. My next question. Do you think we should try and see what the plans are for Carbine? Considering what you just told me, I’m not comfortable with the fact he’s sitting in a damn prison while that ex-Con walks around free. You’re closer to him than I am, though. I’ll follow your lead on this. If you think we should leave it, I’ll leave it. Regardless, I have to have a little talk with Windshield.”

Blue green optics narrowed as she spoke.

[Thundercloud]

There's something to be said about the power of mutual hatred, how it can bring people together and make allies out of strangers. Thundercloud still wasn't too sure about Javelin, how to feel about her or how much to trust her, but that comment about Windshield was enough to instantly launch her smack dab in the middle of his good graces. It wasn't her assurance that he had done right by Carbine that got to him, or how she quickly accepted all the shit that went down in G1 as a valid excuse for Carbine's behavior - it was the fact that she wanted to slap the ugly off Windshield just as badly as he did.

The hard flash of her optics is what sold him on it - the all-too familiar look of someone who had malicious intent and didn't bother trying to hide it, because they were righteous in their anger. It was a look that said some poor son of a glitch was about to catch hands, and they were gonna deserve it.

Thundercloud met that hard look in Javelin's optics with a small, approving smirk.

"Oh, I think we should raise hell and rattle skulls, but that ain't gonna go over too well."

It never did, especially in G1, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and when that call is made desperate mecha resort to the only form of appeal the higher powers will listen to.

Fortunately, Omega wasn't G1 - the times weren't so desperate, or the higher powers so unreasonable. A case could be made in Carbines defense, and there was a chance someone would actually bother to listen to it. Probably not Prowl or Red Alert, but Optimus was a strong possibility, and ultimately the only possibility they really had to hold out hope for. The big guy would be the one to have the final say in all this, so if they wanted the best possible outcome for Carbine, they needed to appeal to Optimus and get him in their corner.

How exactly they were gonna do that, Thundercloud wasn't sure. Carbine was usually the one the figure those details out, and he was neither available nor inclined to work in his own defense - which was all kinds of concerning in its own right. Thundercloud didn't know what kind of self-hating bullshit Carbine was on, but he wanted him off it, and he wanted him off it yesterday. It wasn't right, Carbine being hard on himself. The mech was an egotistical, incorrigible shithead who talked a big game and was beyond shame or reproach. To see him so down on himself, to hear how he was going off Javelin - it wasn't right. It wasn't Carbine. Sure, self-reflection was nice and all, but Thundercloud didn't want it if it came at the cost of his best friend's happiness.

He wanted his bastard back, flaws and all.

"Carbine, he's gonna make it hard for us to set things straight. You prob'ly already guessed, but he's self-distructin' hard. Burnin' bridges while he's still on 'em. It's crazy, but I think he's tryin'a make things harder on himself. Like he hates himself so bad he wants everybody else to hate 'em too."

And wasn't that just the saddest goddamn thing he had heard in a while. As well as the most infuriating. Thundercloud swore, once this was all over he was going to kick Carbine's ass up and down the street, because no one got a free pass to treat his best friend bad, not even the mech himself.

Especially not the mech himself.

"Course he's doin' a shit job of it. There's lots of legit reasons to hate Carbine, but the shit he's faking? Ain't subtle."

[Javelin]

Javelin couldn’t help but give a faint grin when Thunder spoke of rattling skulls. She could rattle skulls. Not the same way Thunder could, of course. Thunder probably only had to use his fists, whereas Javelin would have to find herself a nice thick club somewhere. But yeah...she could throw down.

She knew even before he said if, of course, that they couldn’t. You didn’t try to get a friend who was in the brig because of violence, out, by engaging in similar violence. That didn’t exactly go well.

Her grin faded when he spoke of Carbine, and she nodded.

“He’s hurting, and he’s sick of hurting, so he’s trying to go for a big hurt. Self-destructing, like you said. He doesn’t want to be rescued. He doesn’t want to be helped.”

Javelin shifted her weight again, crossing her arms.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants, it’s what he’s gonna get.”

There was a pause as she looked away for a minute, as if fighting with herself on whether or not to speak. After a moment, one of the two sides won, and she looked back.

“I can try talking to Optimus, but there’s no reason for him to listen. I’m not an officer, I’m not a high ranking anything, and I don’t really know Carbine all that well. I mean....I’m pretty damned good at talking my way out of things, and convincing people of other things, but Optimus himself? That’s gonna be tough. You’ve been out a while, and I don’t know what he was like before you had your nap, but he’s under a lot of stress right now. He’s understandably...prickly.”

She hid a grimace. She didn’t really want to talk to Optimus. They hadn’t had a lot of interaction with just the two of them, which was fine by Javelin. To say she was nervous about any such encounters was an understatement. When they had gone to Haven and she had accompanied him there, she had been on pins and needles the whole time. Making sure she didn’t overlook something and get him injured, or worse, killed.

When the bombs had gone off, for a minute....for a split second...she had been transported back in time, back to before the war. Laying under the rubble, dazed and dizzy.

I did it, she had thought, dully alarmed, Oh Primus, I did it.

Javelin came back with a faint shake, like a horse twitching off nasty insects.

Blue-green optics focused back on Thunder for a moment.

“It might help if I had a little more info to push,” she said, gently, “Can you give me some more answers to a few things? If I ask something you can’t answer, don’t. But info can be used to make a strong case for him.”

[Thundercloud]

At the mention of Optimus, Thundercloud's entire demeanor shifted. His back straightened, his shoulders going stiff as his wings held themselves up in what any flier would recognize as a defensive posture. He didn't know how well Javelin could read his body language, considering she was a grounder, but he didn't want to take his chances. Even if she didn't recognize all the little nuances that would read clear as day to anyone with an aerial alt, it didn't take a genius to figure out that a tense posture probably meant discomfort.

He rolled his head along his shoulders, ostensibly to work out a few kinks in his neck-cables, but really the gesture was just meant to distract from the tactical lowering of his wings back to a more relaxed position. Internally, he told himself to chill the hell out and stop being weird, to get a grip, to not make it so damn obvious that he's squirrely about the Prime. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was scared of the guy - Optimus was the closest thing to a saint that he had ever met - but he definitely wasn't comfortable around him. Intimidated was maybe the better word, but Thunder wasn't sure how he could be intimidated by someone he wasn't afraid of when one was sort of a prerequisite for the other.

He supposed it wasn't really Optimus that made him uneasy as what Optimus represented. The ultimate authority. Incontestable judgement. Someone who had more power at his disposal than any one person should ever be afforded. It made Thundercloud sick to think about it too long, made his skin crawl. Objectively, he knew Optimus was a good person, a real decent guy. He knew Optimus had been trusted with the title of Prime and had proven himself worthy of it time and time again. He knew that the mech was so unreasonably selfless that the idea of using his position and power for personal gain had probably never once entered his mind, even after all this time.

He knew there wasn't any legitimate reason to be worried that Optimus might one day abuse his unimaginable power, except for the fact that anyone else in his position would.

Maybe that's why he hadn't gone to the Prime himself yet, to plead Carbine's case. Maybe, unconsciously, he was afraid to have the spell broken, to no longer live under the comforting delusion that their leader was merciful and without bias, that he'd be willing to listen to someone so much lower than him. What would he do if he tried to plead Carbine's case, but the Prime refused to hear him out? What could he do?

What is there for anyone to do when the avatar of God tells you no?

Maybe it was a good thing he'd been too in his head about all this to approach the Prime himself. Maybe letting Jav take the reigns was Carbine's best shot - Thundercloud's not sure what her standing was in the Prime's eyes, but it couldn't possibly be any worse than his own. In all honestly, he'd set the bar so low that he was fairly certain the dirt beneath his boots was worthy of more of Optimus' time and consideration than he was. At least the dirt doesn't have a rap sheet. At least the dust bunnies don't accidentally kill people. At least you can get rid of dust by sweeping it away and dumping it in the trash where it belongs.

...Wow.

Okay.

He seriously needed to get out of his head and back into the conversation.

"...Alright, fine."

He didn't sound happy about it, but it wasn't exactly like Jav was twisting his arm either. It was a necessary evil he was reluctantly participating in, if only because the alternative was worse.

"Deal still stands, I ain't gonna share shit that ain't anybody else's business, but I'll tell you what I can so long as it stays between us and the Big Guy."

He paused, brows furrowing slightly as he adopted a more serious expression, his tone lowering to emphasize the weight of his words.

"I mean it. Breathe a word of any of this to anyone else and they'll have to lock me up with Patches all over again."

It wasn't a threat - he wasn't trying to intimidate Javelin or discourage her from asking questions. He was simply making his intentions known, informing Javelin of how to act in her own best interests. If it unnerved her or made her feel unsafe with him, that was her problem.

[Javelin]

While not a flyer, Javelin certainly knew a lot of them, and their body language was indeed familiar to her. That wasn’t to say every single flyer she knew was an open book. Everyone had their own personal body language, that was innate to them and only them.

But the wings were always a big giveaway.

Thunder was clearly uncomfortable with everything going on right now, and the mention of Optimus Prime made it worse. She didn’t know if he was angry at the Prime, or scared, or just what was going on, but there was a clear message there – Thunder didn’t want to interact with Optimus personally at all.

Javelin sort of knew how he felt.

Optimus both inspired her, and terrified her, and both for the same reason. Her past didn’t help, and she constantly wondered when it would catch up to her. When it would rear it’s head. And what would happen when it did. Oddly enough, Javelin had discovered since she had arrived on Earth that she liked living. She liked her spark right where it was, in her chest.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she turned back to Thunder, and nodded.

“Alright, that’s fair. And if I get pushy – cause I can – tell me to mind my own fragging business. We both want the same thing, and I don’t want to make an enemy of you, Thunder. I can be a pain in the ass without knowing it, so tell me plain and loud.”

So speaking, she fell silent for a moment, looking slightly down and away from the large flyer, gathering her thoughts. Javelin sorted through the many questions she had, flipped through the pages and pages of mental curiosities and thoughts, to pick out the few she felt were vital to what she wanted to do.

After a few moments passed, she looked back up, lifting her helm to meet Thunder’s optics if he allowed it.

“Alright. Here’s my thought. Carbine’s....handicap. I know he was in Garrus. I’m assuming he got it there, because if he had it before he couldn’t have worked as a cop, and if he had gotten it after you guys left and were in the war proper it would have been repaired with or without his approval the first time he had been injured. It would have been done while he was out cold on the table, because the doctors would just assume he wanted it fixed. Or at least they would have tried.”

Javelin turned, and started to walk back and forth in front of Thunder, no longer meeting his eyes, but looking down at her peds, talking aloud as she made her way through the maze of her processor, taking Thunder – whether he wanted it or not – along on a little ride of working things out.

“Which means it was done by another inmate or a guard. And the doctors in the place either didn’t even try to fix him up, or they did and they botched it. Either way, his dislike of getting himself fixed came out of that place. Because there’s no way a cop, working in such a dangerous job, would have such an intense dislike of people who would be the ones saving their asses if they got injured while working.”

She wasn’t asking Thunder any questions, not yet. She was still making statements. Whether they were right or wrong, it was what she was going on, and would continue to go on unless the large mech before her corrected her. That was entirely up to him.

“So regardless of who did it, I’m going to assume the doctors in that place wouldn’t fix him up. Feeling maybe he deserved it because of what he had done to get put in there in the first place.”

Another pause in her talking.

Javelin stopped walking, came to a halt in front of Thunder. She didn’t turn to look at him, continued looking down at the tips of her peds, but asked him a question.

“When he was sent to Garrus, was he still wearing his black and white standard?”

[Thundercloud]

You'd think he would have noticed it sooner, since it had been going on for hundreds of years, but it's situations like this that made Thundercloud realize he really didn't know how to read people who aren't Carbine – he couldn't intuit their reactions as readily, he couldn't confidently predict what they were thinking or what they were about to say next. As Javelin spoke, he found himself wondering at multiple points whether he was meant to respond, or if the smaller soldier was simply outlining her thought processes, sharing her observations. Thundercloud found himself looking for familiar cues of Carbine's in her body-language and speech, any sort of shared idiosyncrasy that might clue him in to how he was meant to respond, and found nothing.

It was a disquieting feeling, recognizing the disparity between how well he knew Carbine and how poorly he understood everyone else. He wasn't sure if it was a sign that he needed to get out more or hang out with Carbine a little less, but the scales were definitely off-balance somehow. He supposed the latter problem wouldn't be much of a problem for the foreseeable future, but the former...yeah, no. He didn't know about that. He wasn't too keen on trying to make friends with folks who couldn't understand where he was coming from, folks who weren't on the same level 'cause they hadn't spent half their lives being dragged through the dirt.

Javelin....he didn't know the first damn thing about who she was or where she'd been, but she didn't strike him as the sort of person who had lived a charmed life. The way she picked apart Carbine's history, laid out all the details she knew and speculated on the ones she didn't, it gave Thunder the impression that she was used to sifting through ugly situations. To hear her talk about all those different motives and rationals, he almost thought she could've been a tactician - maybe even a politician or a mob lieutenant, though back on Cybertron those were practically the same thing.

Maybe all of that was why Thundercloud reacted the way he did when Javelin finally asked her question. All those scarily-accurate educated guesses, all those theories as to what went down in Garrus and why, and she goes asks a question that has an obvious answer.

The incongruity of it had Thundercloud barking out a short laugh, his one brow furrowed in confusion while the other raised with incredulity.

“--You serious?”

He wasn't smiling exactly, but his mouth was certainly twisting in a vaguely upwards direction.

“Shit, man, that look like a new coat of paint to you? You think they let him strip those stripes before throwin' him to the wolves?”

The mere suggestion was so naively optimistic that Thundercloud didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended on Carbine's behalf. Instead he settled for shaking his head, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a sharp, sardonic smile.

“Can't make an example outta a dirty cop if nobody knows he used to be a cop.”

[Javelin]

Javelin remained where she was as Thunder answered. She didn’t look up, didn’t move or twitch, didn’t twist or seem to react in any way.....other than a subtle narrowing of her optics.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. Low....and utterly filled with disgust, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

She started walking again, pacing, back and forth in front of Thunder. The smaller blue scout had always found that for some reason, moving helped her think. She had no idea why, but anytime she needed to dig deep, to start working out things, she started to pace. If she couldn’t get up and move, her hands were in motion, twisting something between her fingers, rolling something back and forth. Eyes unfocused, laying out ideas and thoughts in her head like laying a track for toy train, setting one piece down another another and locking it in place.

“Ok, so...dirty cop, and...you...” Javelin had no idea what caused Thunder to end up in Garrus and had no intention of asking. It was none of her business and she respected that. She was only asking about Carbine’s because she needed it to try and help him.

“...end up in Garrus. Carbine’s still wearing his back and white. Everyone in there knows he’s a cop. Hell, he may have even put some of them in there...”

Back and forth, ped after ped, voice loud enough for Thunder to hear her words, but it seemed more she was talking to herself, out loud.

“...It’s not going to go well. At all. He’s marked. He’s gonna be marked from the moment they see him. Bolo’s in with him, more than likely...awake? No...that would be extra protection, and they didn’t want that. Removed, then. Or...stasis? Not important.”

Back and forth.

“Something happens....Carbine’s injured. Head injury. Either as punishment, or some scalpel happy doctor....or both....”

Here she stopped again, standing before him, in almost the exact same spot as before. This time she did turn, attempting to make eye contact, proving she did, in fact, know he was still there.

“How did you guys get out of Garrus? The fact you’re standing here and not being hunted from one end of the galaxy to the other tells me you didn’t break out. Did you serve your time and walk free, or was this around the time the war started? They promise to remove some time owed if you took up arms?”

She shifted slightly, taking some of the weight off her left leg.