re_alignment_logs | everybody's got a secret

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everybody's got a secret

WHO: Dead End & Rung
WHERE: Rung's office.
WHEN Immediately after this.
WHAT: Dead End got himself in trouble, and it's time to tell Rung why.
WARNINGS: None?

When Cliffjumper had made his little announcement over the Link, he hadn't expected anyone to stand up for him. Instead what he got was two bots standing up for him, one of which was Rung. Considering the mech had told him outright that he'd stand up for him when he'd gotten his power core present, it shouldn't have been so much of a surprise. But he hadn't really expected it, and the ordeal with the trigger happy red Autobot was a completely different matter.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he was a tiny bit lucky. But let's not get too positive here!

There were things he needed to explain to the therapist, and over the Link wasn't the best of places when his diet was still somehow not common knowledge to the universe. Face to face was better, and a world of difference in privacy.

The trek to Rung's office was a slow one, as Dead End attempted to give himself some time to figure out just what to tell the other bot. There weren't many ways to really go about it and he did eventually reach the door.

He could just turn around and go hide in his room. It was in the same temple, he'd speed out of there before anyone even knew he'd been out front of Rung's office door. But Rung was a friend, and one that allowed him energy. Listening to this stuff was also his job, but that was less important at the moment. He did kind of deserve an answer considering he'd just told the mech he'd give one.

Well not directly told, but it was the same thing.

Vents cycle through some air as he opens the door and quietly shuts it behind him.

"Um..."

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"I know you don't." Rung's said it enough times for him to believe it by now. But wanting and reality are two very different things.

The other was determined enough to actually see though the things he was saying, chances were he'd probably do it anyway no matter what Dead End said.

"I can't stop you from talking to him, but I'm sure he's too busy for me."

The offer causes the Decepticon to blink. Speaking of busy.

"Aren't you really busy too? With your job and everything..."

He can't just drop in whenever he feels uncomfortable with the rest of the world.

"It never hurts to try."

At least not in Rung's opinion. He'll make his case to the Firstforged and hopefully they'll listen.

Hopefully.

"I have my job to do but that doesn't mean you can't stop in. If I'm in a session with someone, you can just stay out in the main room until my office is free. I really don't mind," Rung replied, shrugging some, giving the other a look that said just how serious he was.

Because if Dead End was here, then at least he'd know he was safe.

"It can hurt a lot," Dead End says with a shake of his head. Trying can hurt a whole lot if you were unlucky enough. Not trying could be pretty painful too, depending.

For a moment he doesn't say anything, simply thinking the offer over in his processor. If Rung was busy with someone else then he could wait in the main room. That would be okay, maybe. Unless another of Rung's friends or patients came by and happened to be someone that hated him.

"I guess... Maybe every now and then, if I need to hide. Especially after all of this."

He'd just have to check that no one else was around first.

"That's true, it can, but it won't every time, and you can't assume that it will or else you'll never be able to move forward, Dead End," Rung said with a faint smile, an attempt at being comforting. There was no denying that bad things happened all the time but good things also happened and letting the bad outweigh the good wasn't going to solve anything.

He waits quietly as the other seems to think his offer over, leaning back in his seat and dropping his hands into his lap. Absently he rubs at his thumb as he waits, hoping that the other will--

Ah, perfect.

"Good. As I said, the door will always be open to you, Dead End."

The bad heavily outweighing the good was a normal thing for him, good didn't happen often, it was incredibly rare. And when good barely happened bad was all you could really focus on, there wasn't much choice.

"The good isn't something I get a lot."

Dead End nods, he'll do his best to stop by when he needs to.

"Rung... Is what I did really that bad? What I wanted to do?"

The therapist goes quiet at the question, honestly thinking it over as his optics dim a bit. He could see both sides of it and understood why others were so put off by Dead End. At the same though, he understood why Dead End did what he did and while he wished there was another alternative, at the moment he didn't really have a choice did he?

"..I can see the good and the bad of it," Rung admitted quietly after the long stretch of silence, optics brightening a touch as he focused his gaze on the mech across from him once more. "You're doing what you need to do and while it's not the most conventional or smiled upon means, it's what you have to do to survive and we all have the right to do that."

Dead End shifts uncomfortably in the silence, fingers poking at the side of the chair as he waits for Rung's opinion.

Perhaps he wants some permission of sorts, someone to tell him that he hasn't done wrong. Some kind of affirmation. Or maybe he just wants to know what Rung thinks because he's a friend. Because he's one of the reasons Dead End actually thought about stopping.

When he gets his answer the look on his face is less than happy, but when is he ever happy? It's just the same depressed look he normally sports around.

"So... If I had drained him. If he died, I wouldn't be some horrible monster? You wouldn't hate me?"

He wouldn't loose one of the few friends he has?

"I wouldn't hate you, no," Rung replied, optics softening a bit. "The idea of anyone getting drained isn't...a good one if only because, here in Haven, everyone is pretty close to one another. But, at the same time, I understand that you have to do what you have to do. I would never hate you for surviving, Dead End."

And he wouldn't. It wasn't the nicest of means but it was what the other had to do and Rung could accept that, as uncomfortable as it might make others.

Though it just made him want to find an alternative even more.

It's hard to know what to think, what with how accepting Rung is - or seems to be - of everything. It's clear that the other mech would rather see him with an alternate way of going about things, but at the same time he's alright with the idea of him draining someone. It's. Odd. The only others that are kind of okay with him draining bots are his teammates. And even that's more of a situational thing than all around, constant support.

He'd called Rung special once, and Primus did he mean it.

"If I were to try finding someone again, you wouldn't report me?"

Rung how willing are you to potentially harbor a criminal?

"Not that I'll find anyone, now that the universe has properly thrown me into a dark pit to starve... But if I ever did."

Ah now isn't that a question for the ages. The therapist considers it, studying Dead End as he does and thinking about all the interactions he'd had with the other. The 'Con had never been anything but careful around him, always controlling himself and being nice, if Rung were going to be honest about it. Did he like the idea of another dying? No, but he understood that things happened sometimes and Dead End needed to be able to survive.

Survival was something they were all entitled to right? The chance at least.

"...I wouldn't...no," Rung admitted in a soft voice, almost a whisper, the therapist clearly torn on how to go about this. "I'd be lying if I said I was comfortable with the idea, and I'd much rather you just take energy from me and your other source whenever you need it..but if it happened, you would have a safe place here and someone to stand by you while everything got sorted out."

He knew what he was agreeing to, what he was offering, and it was a risk. A big one. But he was willing to take it because he wasn't sparkless.

The answer the Stunticon receives is not one he's expecting. Rung was an Autobot and so, no matter how supportive, he'd draw the line at knowing someone was basically murdered and not saying a word about it.

He expected to her how Rung would be supportive of him, how he doesn't want to see him starve and he understands. But what he got was far more than that.

Was whoever controlled his luck on holiday? Did the universe just suddenly decide it was done with him and it was time to leave him be? This kind of thing didn't happen to him. It couldn't. Right now that cannon-carrying Autobot was going to storm in, stomp all over his already ruined paint job, and then blast him into a worthless pile of melted goop.

Dead End shuffles in his chair, wings twitching with every uncomfortable movement. It's almost as if he's arguing with himself over what to do. What to say. He looks confused.

He's hearing things. That's what it is. Right? It was inevitable that his life would end all too short, being dropped into void after void of no one cares and no one's going to. Of get used to pain and hate and living a life you won't enjoy, and-

He'd really said it hadn't he?

"You'd... You'd stand by me?" his awkward shuffling doesn't stop, despite finally managing to say something in response.

He should maybe try one of those hug things on Rung. Actually there was a lot of things he'd like to do.

Better just stay in the chair.

"I would."

He can see how weird this for Dead End and it breaks his spark a bit, to know that know one has ever really tried to help him. The idea of death is not something Rung likes, not by another's hands that is, and he hates that this is what the other has to do. But he'd stand by the other, defend him and the fact that there isn't another alternative for the 'Con.

Sacrificing one life for another isn't the best of way for things to go but..well..hopefully it won't actually come to that.

"I trust you to do what's right, in the long run. I don't...know what this all has done to you, if the drive to consume power cores is completely a survival thing or.." Well, he'd rather not consider the fact that maybe Dead End really does like it. "But I would stand by you if you needed me."

"What's right," he repeats almost silently, still pretty much falling over himself in the chair.

He was a Decepticon, how long would right last?

"That would be just borrowing energy from you and Wheeljack." More if he could possibly get volunteers from those that knew about his diet. Bad luck may have taken a small holiday, but there was no way that would happen. The floor opening up and crushing him was more likely than that.

"I- I don't know if I can," he starts, "I don't want to not be able to stop and just drain you completely." That's the last thing he wants or needs. Accidentally eating a friend. Wouldn't go over well.

"But I guess I can try."

"That's all I'm asking. I know it won't be easy but..you and Wheeljack and I to help you and maybe we can find others who would be willing to help in time," Rung said thoughtfully, not sure if it was going to be a possibility but they'd try. It was all they could do.

He didn't want Dead End to suffer. Not at all. He was growing far too fond of the other to see that happen.

"No matter what though, I'm afraid you're a bit stuck with me now," he added with a small smile, relaxing some more now that they were moving past that hard to touch situation.

Dead End shakes his head, "We won't find anyone else."

Sure there was that one time with Bulkhead, but that was just one time. It wasn't going to be some permanent deal, tasty as the mech had been. There would only be Jackie and Rung, which he was fine with... So long as he could manage to not get too restless for actually killing for a core.

"I don't think you'll want to be stuck with me," he hasn't quite finished being a little ball of awkward. "But I think I'd like that. Shouldn't be too hard to get used to."

Until life takes it all away.

"That's for me to decide," Rung said without skipping a bit, fairly certain that he wasn't going to be losing the other any time soon and he was okay with that. Dead End was one of those rare few that went out of his way for the therapist and Rung appreciated that more than he could ever express. It put the other into the same group as individuals like Ultra Magnus, when it came right down to it.

That just shows how special you are to him, Deads.

"..Would you like to stay here tonight?" he asks rather out of the blue, figuring it might be the safest bet.

Rung had a point, no matter the warnings or whatever other gloom and doom things he said, it wasn't his choice. He could control Rung as much as he could control his own life - which is to say, not at all. Or Megatron, maybe Megatron was a better example.

If Rung wanted to make it so he'd be stuck with him, then that was that. He couldn't do anything without cutting all ties to the therapist, and he wasn't about to loose one of the few bots around that he could actually talk to without feeling like he was hated. Or about to be shot or beat into scrap metal.

Shuffling stalls as he's asked if he'd like to stick around for the night. It was probably a good idea to stay somewhere that wasn't his own room. Just in case by some chance, Cliffjumper found where he lived. The other bot was probably by his room right now, storming about angerly, ready to shoot. He wouldn't put it past life.

"I..." he nods, yes he would. "I'll stay out of your way so you can work."

"I don't really have much else to do right now. Most of the files I needed to get done are done," he said reassuringly. He wasn't worried about the other being a bother; if anything, Rung was happy for the company.

It made the quiet of his office a little less suffocating, if anything.

"Make yourself comfortable. As far as I'm concerned, this place is as much as a home to you now as it is to me," Rung added and the sincerity in his voice was thick.

He had said he'd protect the other after all.

"Well, uh, I can stay out of your way if you find anything else to work on."

His vents cycle out a sigh, and he finally calms himself enough to properly curl up in the chair once more. Right. He's staying the night in Rung's office, and he would do his best not to bother the other mech as he worked.

Even if there wasn't really much work, according to Rung.

"I wouldn't go that far," he cracks a smile, although it's gone just as fast as it appeared. "The place is yours."

He's never been the kind to really make places home, to take over certain areas or command spaces. Even his own room - while technically his home here - was nothing more than empty and dark, for any that had actually seen its interior. Dead End was the type of mech to stick himself in a dark corner and just cease existing to the rest of the world, the only real identification that he was still there being the glow from his overly bright green optics.

The chair is more than fine to him, he's got no reason to try and make himself comfortable.

"Thank you, Rung. I owe you."

"No, this place isn't just mine. It's a safe place for anyone that needs it. I would never claim it as solely my own, even if I practice here," Rung said with a slight shake of his head, not about to claim any piece of what was in Haven as his own. What he did was for everyone, not just himself, therefore his office was for everyone.

Pushing himself up out of his seat, with the intent on going to make sure the front door was secure--just in case--Rung paused next to the other and gave Dead End a gentle smile. He reached over to rest a hand on the other's shoulder, squeezing it slightly, letting his hand linger.

"It's no problem at all, Dead End. I mean it," he said softly, reassuringly, hand slowly slipping away before he started for the door. "I'm going to go make sure the door's locked. I really don't want anyone barging in tonight, not when you need rest."

The Decepticon blinks at that, not entirely sure what to make of it. Rung didn't want to acknowledge the place as solely his despite the fact that it was his office. He's not quite sure he gets it, how it can belong to Rung and his patients alike. Autobot/Decepticon differences he guesses.

He eyes the hand on his shoulder, slowly looking up at Rung. "Yeah, well you know I don't really know anyone else that would do this."

Except maybe Sissel. But Sissel was much easier to step on than Rung was, he didn't want to endanger the little guy when he was already walking around with a rather large hole in his body. And well, more importantly Sissel didn't know about his diet, Rung did. he could confide in Rung a bit more... Which really was the point of having a therapist. Friends too.

When Rung's hand moves off of him and he heads to the door, Dead End turns in the chair, looking over the back of it.

"I'd be fine without rest, Rung. I don't get a lot of it to begin with." And he could always just eat whoever barged in, if they didn't kill him first.

Pausing in the doorway when the other speaks, hand resting on the doorframe, Rung glances back with that same soft smile as before.

"All the more reason I'm going to make sure you get your chance to rest, Dead End," he murmured before stepping out of the room and heading down the hall. The therapist reached thr main door and locked it, lingering there for a moment as he lost himself to thought.

He was taking a risk, like he always did, and he knew this could end badly for him in several ways. But he couldn't bring himself to worry about the threat it all was to him. Perhaps he really was straying down the path of going out of his processor after all this time or..maybe he really just was that lonely.

Shaking his head a bit, Rung turned and headed back to his office, slipping inside as his optics dimmed from weariness.

He's honestly not sure how to take that, wings perked with a slightly worried look on his face.

He didn't particularly need any rest, he'd get it occasionally during brooding sessions when he was in his room curled up in a dark corner - because who used berths these days?

Dead End sinks down in the chair, it wasn't difficult to see that he was causing Rung more trouble than the bot likely needed.

"You okay?" he asks when Rung returns, peeking out from behind the chair. Really less about actually catching the look on Rung's face and more just general worrying that he's probably asking too much from the other - even if technically he hasn't actually asked for anything.

"Just tired. I haven't...actually recharged well the past few days. Just been so busy with work that I haven't stopped," he admitted with a sheepish look, that particular problem a common one when it came to the therapist. He'd be fine after some rest though, he always was.

One of these days he should probably consider getting a real berth in here for those times when he just didnt leave.

"Rest well, Dead End," Rung said softly as he moved over towards his desk, voice soft in the exhaustion now catching up to him. He paused though, not making it all the way to his destination, glancing at the other as his optics brightened just a touch. "Considering earlier, did you need energy?"

"Shouldn't you stop because of work?" He questions as Rung starts moving towards his desk. "Keep yourself at your best, or something like that?"

Turning around in his chair as the other pauses, he reaches out to grab hold of Rung's arm. It's not a particularly Decepticon-like thing to do, what he's planning, but Rung is an Autobot so it'll maybe go over okay. And it wasn't as though he'd been sparked to be one, he'd had a normal job before the war, and another before that. Who was to say that he couldn't do this even as a Decepticon... He simply couldn't do it with another Decepticon.

As gently as he can manage he tugs Rung into his lap, pulling the other mech into a hug. Rung's been in his lap before, so it's not like this was awkward, ~~it was completely awkward~~. Likely a better thank you considering the other's faction. Or maybe Rung'll hate it, with his luck that wouldn't be a surprise.

"If you're tired you should probably rest, I won't starve... Unless something breaks down the wall and zaps most of my energy away."

And let's face it, there was only maybe a sixty possibly seventy percent chance of that happening.

"I should be able to wait."

A surprised sound escapes the therapist as he's grabbed and pulled into the other's lap, not protesting the move or anything of that nature but he's definitely flustered. His optics brighten with the wave of awkwardness though it melts away as hes hugged, the embrace a lot more comforting than Dead End probably realizes. Rung's gaze softens and he sort of just relaxes into the hug, returning It after a moment. It feels nice and oddly comforting in a way, comforting in that 'someone isn't afraid to get close to him' manner. Physical contact isn't something Rung gets much of, not like this at least.

"If you're sure...I really dont mind," he murmurs. It's impossible to hide how exhausted he is though and as much as he wants to, he's well aware that he shouldn't.

Pulling back from the hug, hands resting on Dead End's shoulders.

"And if anyone really is stupid enough to barge in here then they won't like what happens," he said in a rather guff manner, frowning some in a way that says he won be playing nice with anyone that decides to be that rude and idiotic.

The fact that Rung is returning the hug is a good thing, Dead End thinks. It's better than the other mech protesting and pulling away, it means he didn't misjudge. For however long it'll last he'll take it.

"You could fall over," he states, with a shake of his head. Or Rung could just pass out during it. Or things could be just fine, but considering how things went the first time he'd borrowed energy from the therapist, chances were he'd fall over or just pass out.

Once Rung's hands move to he pulls his own away, not entirely sure where to put his hands. Eventually he decides that stuffing them between himself and the chair, about as far from touching Rung as he's able, is best. That way the other mech could get up whenever he felt was time.

"But you don't have any weapons," it's said rather flatly. Rung acting all tough was kind of difficult to take as seriously as he should be taking it. The other mech couldn't fight as far as he knew, so him making threats. Well, it was difficult.

"That...is a possibility at this point," Rung admits, knowing that denying his exhaustion anymore is just pointless. He does, however, have enough energy to scoff a bit, squeezing thr others shoulders before startin to get up. "One doesn't always need weapons to make a point. I haven't been at my best as of late but after over six million years, you learn a thing or two."

The sad thing was, he really hadn't been on his game as of late, at all. He'd made a fool of himself in more ways than one and he really did need to step it up again. He'd found his place here and now it was time to fill the position properly.

"I'm sorry the accommodations for sleep aren't perfect but..I hope you rest well, Dead End," the therapist says softly, settling into his seat and relaxing almost immediately. Even without a berth, at least his chair was suitable.

"I can wait," he repeats, "better if you didn't take the chance."

It would be harder to stop if Rung wasn't conscious for it.

"And if you say so." He won't doubt Rung, but he does doubt that there are those that won't take advantage if he doesn't have a weapon. "I have swords if you need them, just in case."

Because why would he use them when he's the one that knows how to actually fight with them? Smart thinking Dead End.

Once Rung has taken his seat behind the desk, Dead End returns to curling up in his own chair, giving the other a little nod.

"They're fine," he manages a small smile. He'll do his best to try and get some rest himself, if he can stop himself from just watching Rung instead. Scrap, he'll probably have to turn around for the whole rest thing to work.

The small smile is a nice sight to see, Rung savoring every single one of those little expressions that he gets from the other bot.

"Alright...rest well then, Dead End," the therapist murmured, optics dimming a bit more as he grew even more comfortable in his current position. When they finally went offline, his vents cycled softly, the noise very audible as he fell into a deep recharge--not by choice, he was just that exhausted.

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