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Who Drift and Rung
What Talking about feelings
When nowish?
Where Rung's office
Warnings See 'what'. Drift is no good at this.

He'd tried, yesterday, to just put it behind him. That was after he'd tried, before that, venting his emotions against those helpless stone pillars. Neither the gutters nor the Decepticon army had spent much time teaching coping skills--it was always just 'move on' and 'shoot something'. Neither could work here.

He felt more than a little embarrassed, contacting Rung, but he can't think of anything else to do. Well, he can, because all that time near the Badlands, searching for Megatron's attacker...he'd started hearing the voice, feeling that pull that told him that if he just went farther outward, farther to the verge of the Badlands...all these stupid troubles would disappear.

When that started to seem appealing, it's time to contact someone.

So he shuffled nervously as Rung opened the door. "Hey," he said. Well, off to a lame start. "Thanks for, uh, agreeing to see me."

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"It's no trouble at all, Drift. My door's always open to you just like everyone else, you know that," the therapist replied with a welcoming smile, stepping aside to motion the other in.

Ever since his encounter with Tarn, Rung had been keeping to himself for the most part. He'd gladly sit down with others if they contacted him and wasn't keeping himself away from all the feeds; he just hadn't really left his office in a few days.

But there was no sign of anything wrong as he led Drift back to his office, motioning towards the open chair on the other side of his desk as he sank into his own.

"How have you been, if you don't mind me asking before we get started."

Drift nodded. He really didn't want to be here, and he was acutely aware that of all mechs, Rung didn't deserve to have this...nonsense dropped on him.

He drew the Great Sword as he moved to sit, laying it across his lap. After a moment, though, he got up, propping the ancient blade against the wall farthest away from him, reseating himself with a sort of sheepish smile. "I've, uh, been better." Obviously.

Every littoo touch of nervousness and discomfort was picked up by the therapist. There was somethig seriously bothering the other, that much clear in the way he moved to set the sword against the wall as if he was trying to distance himself from it.

Very odd indeed.

"What's goIng on?" he asked, falling into the proper mindset now completely as he tilted his head.

He wanted the sword in another room. Better yet, he shouldn't have even brought it. Too late now. And he realized, glancing over at it, that it was a symptom of the whole issue: Wing, having access to everything Drift says and does, while giving up nothing himself. He scowled at the blade before turning back to Rung, trying to re-compose himself.

"It's, well," It was impossible to know where to begin. He cycled a vent of air. "There's....uh, someone. That I know. And he's been...not honest with me. About a lot of things. A lot of things that really matter."

He doesn't want to mention the name, some old vestige of trying to defend Wing.

Something about that sword really wasn't sitting well with the other, was it? It made him curious but he wouldn't pry. If it was apart of this particular issue that Drift was here for, he'd explain it if he wanted to.

"Why not start from the beginning? And names are, of course, not necessary," Rung said softly with the faintest of smiles before his expression once more became collected and considerate. The beginning was always the best for issues like this, conflicts between two individuals, and it would give Rung more insight.

Hopefully Drift would br willing to talk about it though.

Drift laughed. "Right. The beginning." How much time did Rung have? "We, uh, we met. Before here. And it wasn't good then. And I thought we could fix it here, but I...I don't know. I'm beginning to think we can't."

He shrugged. That wasn't very helpful. "He kept me prisoner when we met. Wouldn't let me leave the city or talk to anyone. And every day, we had to fight--really just a way for him to prove, day after day, he was better than me." A bitter smile. Stockholm Syndrome, anyone? "He's never wrong."

"And then here. He's doing things--did things--that could cause real problems. And he didn't tell me any of it. But it's just like before: he wants me to tell him everything, him and no one else. While he tells me?....nothing."

Rung was quiet, as always when he's listening, taking in the details and placing them into his designated folder for Drift. It didnt sound pleasant, in he least and it really did nothing to quell his worry for the other, worry that he'd had for awhile considering Drift's origins.

"So he's controlling you. Or manipulating you I suppose could fit depending on how to wanted to approach it," he said thoughtfully, elbows propped on the desk now, hands laced together in frot of his face. "And what are your feelings towards this individual? If you're aware of what he's doing, why not approach him about it or break away from him completely?"

It wasn't that easy and Rung knew that, but he needed thr other to explain things, needed Drift to give him insight into how this was all affecting him.

"It feels like it. It really does." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm not explaining it right, though." Because that sure does make Wing sound evil.

He glanced over at the Great Sword again. "Because I owe him my life. More than." He has so much to make up for with Wing; it feels awful to complain about it.

"Owing him for helping you is different than letting him own you, Drift. You can feel a deep debt of gratitude to someone and still live your life the way you want to," Rung countered gently, not really liking the sound of this situation. But, perhaps Drift was right and it just wasn't coming across correctly.

From the sounds of it though, Drift wasn his own mech which, in a way made sense especially when one thought about how e had acted on the Lost Light towards Rodimus.

"We all owe someone something but that Doesn't commit you to br solely theirs."

"It's..it's complicated, Rung. I owe him. All the years I took from him. And because, well, I'm probably the reason Crystal City's been destroyed."

He studied his hands for a long moment. "I love him. A-at least I think I do." He frowned. "He just...I don't like being lied to. Especially not 'for my own good'." Rodimus had, at least, never done that. Rodimus normally confided in him.

"Things are only complicated because we make them complicated," the therapist countered, not in a rude or mean way, just because he had a point to make. "Does this individual blame you for these things you carry the guilt for? Or is this you trying to wipe your ledger clean? We've all been given a chance to start anew here in Haven, all been give. A second chance here in Haven so I think it's fair to say that it's okay to not weigh yourself down with that guilt, Drift. If you want to make it up to him, if you do love him, then live your life with him. Not for him."

Lowering his hands to fold his arms on told of thr desk, Rung's expression softened a bit.

"Confront him about the lying, express to him how much you don't like it. If he feels he has to protect you through lies, the. Perhaps it's not the best relationship to be in. Trust and honesty are key in any sort of relationship."

"You're right. And maybe I'm holding him back from starting again. I know I wasn't, well, his first choice." That still hurt, honestly. "Which is, I mean, it's his life and I can't judge for who he chooses to be with, but, well, he's lied about it. To me. To everyone. He shouldn't even be on the Law Committee because of it." He shakes his head.

"I have, but I guess the issue is, how can I trust him again?"

"Trust has to be earned. It's not up to you to right this. If he cares about you at all, then he should make the effort to make up for his mistakes," Rung said with a small frown. "This isn't your fault, Drift. You should take your concerns to Ultra Magnus, he'll listen to what you have to say."

He gave an unhappy sound. "There has to be something I can do." At least about the anger and hurt and jealousy.

"No! No. I can't go to Ultra Magnus with this. It's not my place. It's...I don't want him to get in trouble." Not including that Wing didn't want it known, apparently. "I can't betray his trust that he told me."

"Sometimes the best thing to do is just let go for awhile and see where fate takes you. Free yourself from what's holding you back and a lot more doors open up, Drift," Rung said with a gentle tone though he visibly startled at the others reaction to the Ultra Magnus suggestion. The therapist fell quiet for the moment, just watching the other as he considered what to do and say, vents cycling softly as he leaned back in his chair now.

"the question is, what's right in the long run. If he's not a good fit, others need to know why. Perhaps this would be the reality check your friend needs."

He doesn't want to. He really doesn't want to. But then again, everything he wants to do, everything he can think of doing...won't work. "You're right." Of course. He came to Rung because Rung could be objective about it, and he knew he couldn't.

"I-I'm sure he wouldn't do anything. I mean, it just could be construed badly."

"All I can do is offer my advice, Drift. Ultimately it's up to you to decide what course of action to take. Based on what you're telling me though, I'm worried about you," the therapist admitted, always worrying--to some extent or another--about his crewmates here in Haven.

"Whatever the case is, I think approaching him might be thr best plan. Don't be afraid to tell him how you're feelin and what you're thinking either. Your opinion and state of being matters just as much as his."

".....worried?" Nobody worried about Drift. Unless he was going to do something violent and reckless. And even then that was such a new thing Drift still got flummoxed by it.

"Rung. All I want is for him to be happy. But it just seems everything I do just makes it worse."

"Of course," Rung replied, looking a bit surprised at how confused the other seemed. "You're one of my crew mates, a commanding officer, and someone that's been nothin but kind to me. Of course I worry."

All of the Lost light crew here in Haven was of importance to Rung above all else ...sans Dead End but that was a different sort of situation.

"All you can do is your best, Drift. He has to want to be happy though as well. If he doesn't want to be, then it won't be easy for anyone to please him. So focus on yourself first and foremost."

"Oh." A sigh of relief. "I thought you meant you were worried, you know, about something specific."

He shifts uncomfortably on the seat before giving a soft laugh. "It's just...it's hard to accept that I can't force it to happen. But that's probably the whole point."

"Such as?" Rung asks, a bit curious now as to what Drift thought he meant exactly. That had been an odd reaction so it made him wonder what was going through the other's head.

"It's always hard, especially when we want something to go our way. But that's all apart of moving forward, unfortunately. Sometimes we can't control things and it's just a fact that we have to come to terms with," he said in an understanding way, giving the other a faint smile.

"Uh. Worried about me?" He shrugs. "I don't know. It's just...everyone here keeps trying to talk me out of doing things."

Like letting himself be killed by Tarn. Why would they possibly object?

He gives an uncertain nod. "So...I need to back off and stop trying to make something happen. Even if...if it doesn't happen, it'll hurt."

"I do worry about you, Drift. Like I said, you're one of the few individuals I know from home so of course I worry," Rung said with a faint frown. "You should do what you want and it's no one's place to try and tell you what you should and shouldn't do. Advice is one thing but.."

There were certain things that did require a different approach, but he assumed Drift understood that.

"Unfortunately it's hard to predict what will and won't hurt us. But you'll be stronger, in the end, if you stand on your own and move forward instead of trying to cling to something that isn't doing you any good at the moment."

"Oh." A laugh. "Well, that makes sense. I guess I'm a little jumpy from hearing that so often." He scrubs a hand over the back of his helm. "Not really used to it."

He nods. "That's what I should be. And if it's holding me back, it's holding him back, too."

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