re_alignment_logs | Hallways always [OPEN]

Entry tags:

Hallways always [OPEN]

who: Vandal and any visitors. [OPEN]
what: Vandal is bed-bound, recovering from her month-long detainment and torture.
when: All this week.
where: The Medbay
warnings: very yes
notes: Tag in your own threads, it can be set during any point in the week.

The beep of the monitors is loud with her head this eerily silent. Whatever he did to her, between the needles and questioning, he separated it. Took something. Now that static in her head is far quieter. It's almost as maddening as when it was present.

Now she's almost lonely without it. Well- she was lonely before, but now even more so.

She doesn't sleep, no. It's not safe to sleep anymore. She wants to scream every time she's left alone, but it's not practical to have someone with her all the time. Prism is dead, the Gatherer is dead, but the way she goes back to that place every time she shuts her eyes.

So she lays in a space between waking and sleep, startling back to consciousness every tie she starts to drift. Shaking. Thinking about it. What it did to her.

She reaches up to smooth a finger over the gauze covering what used to be her right eye.

Ruined. He ruined her worse than the church did. The mental, the physical.

Everything. Ruined.

She wishes they'd have killed her when they found her.

But she's also a coward, and afraid of death, so here she sits and lets the stitches heal.

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"Nobody could. He kept moving me-" She stops herself. She doesn't really want to get into that, anyways.

More than anything right now, she just wants to be held. Comforted. Be a little selfish.

"But hey. Check this out." She points to the bloody gauze covering her missing right eye.

"I get to have an eye patch from now on. Like a pirate?" She's trying so hard. Her voice wavers.

"You could be my first mate. Captain Vandal, how does that sound..." She attempts to force up a smile and fails.

He doesn't want to get into it either. It was the past, and if anyone knew that sometimes the past was too much to bear it was him. He shakes his head when she falls silent. He doesn't need to hear it. "Prism had me, once. I know...more than enough."

Drift reaches his hand, one finger stroking over her shoulder, carefully ignoring the smile that wasn't much of a smile. "You don't need a rank, Vandal. You know you're the one in charge." It's not much of a joke, either.

She shudders.

"Thank you," She mumbles quietly, "For killing it. For coming for me."

He did kill it. For good he killed it.

"I hope you all fucked him up. I hope it hurt." Her hand moves to grab his finger.

"Drift?"

He doesn't mention Megatronus's threat. He'll take any penalty as long as it means Prism stays dead. "We all came for you. And we're all here for you. If there's anything you need...."

His mouth takes a bit of a grim hardness. "It hurt. Yes. A lot." Some people didn't deserve the mercy of a quick kill. Prism was one of them. Not after he did that to Vandal. And the part of Drift that was Deadlock wishes he'd had a month, too, to take out every last bit of pain, revisit them on the creature.

Drift shakes that thought off. "What?"

In all of her time here, she'd only cried once. Shortly after she'd arrived, and she'd made damn well sure she was alone. She didn't want to be weak, not in front of these guys.

But right now, after it's all done and she feels like she can't fall any further, tears are the last of her worries. And she's not going to fight that lump in her throat. So she clutches onto his hand and just sobs.

Loud, pathetic, ugly sounds, but at least it's a release.

And she trusts him enough to let him see.

"Karrie...." His voice is soft, hesitant. He doesn't know what to say, and dimly is starting to think that mayb enothing ayone could say would do any good. Maybe sometimes just being there was enough.

He hopes this is one of those times.

He forms his other hand into a cradle behind her, not wanting to risk touching her, in case it hurt, but wanting to make her feel, at least now, safe.

Yeah, she feels pretty disgusting and weak, but she knows Drift won't judge her. Feeling his hand behind her through- yeah. She pulls the monitors and the drip from her arm, wincing and tossing it aside and hauls herself up.

Fuck that. She's going to be selfish. Standing is a task far greater than she'd imagined, but she's obviously determined. She's mostly naked, but the bandages and wraps more than make up a fair amount of cover so it's not awkward when she throws her arms around his neck and sobs into his chestplate.

He winces as she jerks the monitors from her arms, and the regular beeps stutter into a flat drone. That's probably not the wisest thing to do--not that he's in any position to judge that.

Drift could care less if she were naked. What matters is that she's alive. He presses one hand lightly against her back, shifting his weight closer.

"Anything you need, just ask."

She never thought she'd ever have to say she'd took hugging robots for granted, but right now it's probably the best thing.

"Just hold me-" She chokes, body trembling as she leans into him more, legs getting tired already.

"Drift I don't know what to do, everything hurts and it's not fun anymore, it's not fun I want to go home..." She knows it's just futile whining, but it's been pent up for a long time. She doesn't care about the fight they'd had. Rather- she doesn't want to think about it right now. He's here and that's good enough.

It's something Drift can do, at any rate. And not a very big thing to ask. "As long as you need me to." He easily takes her weight against him.

"Karrie. I know." It hurts to hear the words, to feel rejection she probably didn't intend in them. He was getting numb to the fact that he was never enough.

"We'll try to find a way to get you home. Just, for right now, it's hard. Trust me. You just take it every hour at a time. And remember that you have friends."

Oh that's far too nice for words, being held, for as best he can do it.

What she'd left out, really, is that if she goes home, she'll be killed for sure. She's always had a death wish, but lately it's more... well. Just more.

"Come with me," She doesn't really know what she's saying, "You and Wing and Perceptor come with me we'll all go home..."

And she's not exactly stable. Or sane at the moment (if she ever was).

"Nobody gets hurt anymore I'm so tired of it... he took something from me, the static he took it and he took my fucking eye, Drift."

She's not really making sense anymore, just sobbing and babbling nonsense, but at least she's getting it out. Eventually she starts to calm. Or at least appears to have exhausted herself.

Edited 2012-12-17 20:53 (UTC)

"We will, whoever you want. We'll find some place safe, all right?" He swallows around the hard knot of knowing that she hadn't contacted any of them. "Nothing will hurt you."

Prism certainly won't.

"Vandal--Karrie. Don't let him take any more. What he did, he did, but don't let him take anything else. Don't let him take you."

"Okay," They probably won't ever be safe, but that's what she needs to hear right now. She appreciates his willingness.

She swallows, her breathing still trembling, awkwardly trying to wipe off that wet spot on his autobrand with her wrist.

What she really wants, is to die. But Drift is right, that would be letting him win. And it would be letting them down. All of them. After they worked so hard to get her back. And she, despite everything, still wants to stay with them.

"Y'know. You're still my h-kh-" Her voice catches, "Hero."

He means it, though. Right now, anything that would restore a sense of safety to her, he'd do.

"Give yourself time," he murmurs. "Please."

He stops her swiping at him with one hand, grinning down at her. It doesn't matter, a little dampness.

Until she speaks.

"Karrie. I'm no hero. But...thank you."

She relaxes against him again, pressing her ear in to hear the familiar hum of his systems.

But she stops dead, looks right up and him and gives him that look.

"Don't argue. You're a hero. Everyone that came for me is. But you're... just. Mine." If that makes any sense at all.

Her head goes back down and she resumes listening to him.

He really should know better than to argue with her. Really, he should by now.

"Yes," he says, voice soft and earnest. "Yours, Vandal. Whenever you need me."

Admittedly, that's a lot more satisfying to hear than anything else. She settles again, shifting to get more comfortable against him.

Better than the damn bed for her. She's actually comfortable for the first time in a long time.

"Drift?" She sounds utterly exhausted, "I'm sorry I wasn't there when- when stuff happened. They told me. And. Yeah. I'm glad you're here."

Honestly the thought of him dying makes the tears well up again, but she swallows. He's here now, that's what matters.

He adjusts his arms into a sort of cradle, debating if he should ask her if he should switch to his alt mode to let her lay in his back seat.

Oh. That. He'd sort of been hoping that he could, you know, not have to deal with that.

"It was...it happened." He wasn't really ready to deal with it himself.

Sensitive subject. Probably just as much as Prism is for her.

"We'll take care of each other, okay?" She'll leave that subject at that. Talks can happen later.

She'd considered asking for his seats, but she actually prefers it this way. She feels more... equal this way. She likes to see his face and optics and feel all the little movements and twitches.

He nods, even though she probably can't see it. "That's how it should work, I think. Looking after each other."

He hopes. He feels like he's stumbling in the dark. He'd felt the same about accompanying Rodimus and that...hadn't worked out.

The moment stretches, probably uncomfortably as Drift tries to think of something helpful to say.

"Oh. I...brought you peaches. For later. When you want to."

"Yeah..." She curls up a little more, minding her stitches.

She does perk up a little at the mention of peaches, but her stomach is still churning.

"Really? I didn't know there were any left..." She missed that too. Good food.

"Thank you. You're always thinking of me." She'd give him a kiss on the nose but given when they'd talked about before everything happened, she's not really sure she'd make him uncomfortable.

He gives a sort of shy shrug. "You learn to always hold something in reserve. For when you need it. Learned that in the gutters."

That, and he'd also looked for them.

He holds up the can. "I'll leave it here. You can, you know, look at it or something until you feel ready to eat them." Wow that probably sounds stupid. "...the can''s kind of pretty." Maybe.

Too much had happened since their last meeting, and he was just glad to have her back. If she wanted to get mad at him later, he'd be okay with that, simply because she would still be here

She tries to muster a smile but it doesn't quite fully form. She just rests her head back down after a moment, humming.

"Mom always told me I'd fall for a funny man with a good heart." There's a small exhale of sound that is trying to imitate a chuff of amusement.

"If only she could see me now. Two outta three. Just couldn't nail the 'man' part."

She looks at the can of peaches distantly.

"Wish it wasn't so damn quiet in here."

"I don't have a heart, either," he said, softly. And he's not all that funny, he doesn't think.

He looks back at the peaches, a little proudly, because it was something that made her happy, that he had done.

"It is quiet." He frowns. "Want me to go see if I can find your music player?"

"You do. It's kind of symbolic, anyways. Spark. Heart. Same thing...ish."

Nitty-gritty, but whatever.

She shakes her head at his question.

"Nah. My RIG is the control anyways, and I'm not gonna make you run and get that for me. Rather have you here."

Hallways always [OPEN]

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