Author's Notes: Well, I guess this fic should have a trigger warning. I'm kind of surprised I even wrote this, but I'm reasonably happy with the way it turned out. When I published my last Stunticon oneshot, it seemed like for most people their favorite part was Dead End, so I wrote a oneshot that is specifically about Dead End. Specifically, how would he react to a suicidal teen. The results were...Interesting. I hope you guys like it, and please remember to leave a review, since that's my favorite part about writing fanfics :)

End of The Road

It was a clear night. The moon was almost but not quite full as it hung over the earth and illuminated the Willamette River. Small safety lights sparkled on the St. John's Bridge in Portland Oregon. It was a beautiful peaceful place. The perfect view for the end of one's life.

At least, that was what 17 year old Charlie Pearson thought as he looked down at the shimmering ripples in the black water below. It had been a long oppressive road to get to this point, but the bottom of that river held the end to his pain and suffering. Down there the bullies wouldn't be able to reach him, his parents wouldn't be able to blame him for their own miserable lives, and he wouldn't have the crippling weight of an uncertain future on his shoulders. If he could just ease himself to the edge of the bridge and jump…

He walked away from his car and stepped over the guardrail. It was a cold night, and not many cars were out. For once no one was around to see or judge him. If he could just fall forward…

He couldn't fall forward. Not yet. He needed to brace himself for it first. He sat down on the bridge and shivered as he felt the cold metal beneath his thick sweat pants. He huddled further into his jacket and blew on his gloves for warmth. The night was beautiful, but it was so cold.

"Why did you stop?" An unfamiliar voice asked him from his left.

Charlie turned around, and nearly had a panic attack when he saw a giant alien robot sitting on the edge of the bridge with him! He wondered if maybe this was an Autobot, but a closer look at the frame showed a Decepticon logo, and Charlie knew then that he might not need to jump after all.

"Please, don't hurt me!" Charlie shouted frantically at the towering mech.

"Why not?" The Decepticon asked, "You were just going to kill yourself anyway, weren't you?"

"Well, I...yeah, I was," Charlie finally admitted in defeat, "Who are you anyway, and what are you doing on the St. John's Bridge?"

"My name is Dead End, and I'm watching you die," Dead End replied matter-of-factly.

Charlie was seriously creeped out by this Decepticon. He had seen these things on the news before. They killed indiscriminately and they were trying to overthrow the human race. The fact that this one was named Dead End seemed...appropriate. The fact that it wanted to watch him die seemed cruelly sadistic somehow.

"Could you please not watch?" Charlie asked as politely as he could manage given his accelerated heart rate, "I just want to do this quietly."

"Why?" Dead End asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Charlie asked defensively.

"Because human mortality fascinates me," Dead End replied, "Humans have so many customs for death. Funerals, wakes, leaving gifts for the dead bodies. Suicide differs from one location to the next. In Japan they take their shoes off, but here you leave all of your clothes on. Why is that?"

"I don't know," Charlie muttered quickly, "Please, just leave me alone. I'm begging you, just let me do this in peace!"

"Peace?" Dead End asked sardonically, "There's a pipe dream. You think your kind will ever know peace again? My faction is here to kill you all, and I was designed for that purpose specifically. My creator built me and my gestalt for the sole purpose of mastering your roads and then using our combined power to crush you under our heels. I only exist for chaos and war. There is no such thing as peace."

Charlie didn't know what to say to that. It actually made him want to jump off the bridge even more, since his world was about to go up in flames and he didn't want to be there when it happened. He did want to know something from this Dead End mech, however.

"What will you do with the survivors?" Charlie asked timidly.

"Survivors? You mean humans that survive the takeover?" Dead End asked, and Charlie nodded, "I don't know that any will. Your species isn't exactly our priority. Well, it isn't Megatron's priority. Personally I believe you have a lot to offer. Poetry, monuments, Ozzy Osbourne. It seems like your people exist to create. I suppose on some level I'm jealous of that. I only exist to destroy. So human, what were you built for?"

"My name is Charlie," Charlie said irritably, "And I wasn't built for anything. I was an accident. My parents didn't want to get married at all, but when they found out my mom was pregnant with me they decided to do the honorable thing and get married. Their marriage is miserable, but they're both too dependent on each other to leave. If I had never been born they would've never been stuck with each other. It's my fault they're both trapped in a loveless marriage. They'll be better off without me."

"Hm...Interesting," Dead End said noncommittally, "I must admit to not being an expert on interpersonal human relationships. Tell me, do they find you useful?"

"Useful?" Charlie parroted, "I don't know. I guess. I try to be. Families don't really work that way. I take out the garbage and do the dishes sometimes, and I have a part time job and I go to school. Still, nothing I do could ever repay what they've done for me all these years."

"Then why do they keep you?" Dead End asked, "If a Decepticon isn't useful, they're scrapped. If I wasn't a part of the gestalt, I would be terminated for my lack of energy and skills."

"You've said that word a couple times, gestalt," Charlie said thoughtfully, "What does that mean? Is it something special?"

"It is," Dead End replied as he turned away from Charlie and looked out over the water, "Gestalt is another term for a combiner team. My four brothers and I, led by Motormaster, join together to form a single gargantuan monster. Our combiner form is called Menasor. We're not a very good gestalt, if I'm honest. Separately my brothers and I have nothing in common, and together Menasor is a miserable psychotic abomination that can only kill and scream. I hate it when we combine. I don't want to combine, but when Motormaster gives the command to merge, my body reacts on its own. I lose control over my own identity in that moment, and I hate it, because for that moment I cease to exist and yet remain conscious of my lack of existence."

Dead End had appeared mildly bored for most of their conversation, but now his visored face was contorted in a vision of misery and anguish. He started to shake, and Charlie briefly wondered if giant alien robots could feel the cold the way he could. He doubted that was the reason, though.

"Charlie...Let's dive down together," Dead End suggested ominously, "That alone won't kill me, so I'll shoot myself in the helm first. If I die, then Menasor dies, and my brothers won't ever have to experience the merge again. What do you say?"

"You want to kill yourself...with me?" Charlie asked; stupefied, "I, uh...okay. If you want to. At least your combined form won't hurt anymore people."

"That's the spirit, Charlie," Dead End smiled placidly, "By the way, I never did ask. Why are you killing yourself tonight?"

"A few reasons, actually," Charlie said ruefully, "But I guess the biggest reason is school. The kids make fun of me. They call me fat and make fun of me online. The girls are even worse than the boys sometimes, but no one cares about me. I'm just Chubby Charlie to them. I think the worst was that one time when the track team made me eat dirt. In the movies it's always the football team, but at my school it's the track team. I just want the torment to stop. I'm just tired of...feeling."

"I see, so you don't really want to die," Dead End surmised.

"Yes I do!" Charlie snapped petulantly.

"Alright then," Dead end shrugged, "Then I'll just squish you. It's much faster and more painful. You'll really know you're dead then."

Dead End stood up and lifted his foot to crush Charlie, and then teen scooted back as fast as he could and screamed for help.

"No! Please! Don't! Help! Police!" Charlie shouted frantically as he cowered under Dead End's shadow.

"See? You don't actually want to die," Dead End said pointedly as he retracted his foot and sat back down, "You just want the pain to stop, but you still want to live. It's a common mix-up."

"Dead End? Sir?" Charlie asked as he ducked his head into his coat in fear, "Do you have to kill yourself tonight?"

"Why would you want me to survive?" Dead End asked critically, "I almost murdered you."

"Well sir...Forgive me if this sounds selfish, but I was wondering…" Charlie took a deep breath before continuing, "...When your kind takes over the earth...Could you find a way to keep my parents alive? I know they fight a lot, and they tend to ignore me these days because of their own busy lives, but they're the only ones that have ever truly cared about me. Please keep them alive through all this, and I'll do anything you want. Please?"

Dead End looked thoughtful for a moment, and then turned back to Charlie.

"Do they really love you?" Dead End asked.

"Yes," Charlie replied.

"Do you love them back?" Dead End asked with innocent curiosity.

"Of course I do!" Charlie shouted; affronted.

"Then why do you want to hurt them?" Dead End asked. His tone held no judgment, just intellectual curiosity.

"What do you mean by that?" Charlie asked softly, already thinking he knew what Dead End meant.

"I mean that killing yourself would hurt them," Dead End explained, "They would be forced to leave gifts for your tombstone and stare at old photos of you, but they would not have what they really need to feel complete; the rest of their family."

"Yeah? Well wouldn't you be hurting your brothers by killing yourself?" Charlie shot right back at him, "Wouldn't they be incomplete as well?"

"Hm...I suppose so," Dead End replied uncertainly, "I guess the moral thing to do would be suffer for the sake of our families. Of course, I usually don't take the moral route. I suppose if I had someone to talk to besides my unsympathetic cohorts it would make life marginally easier."

"Yeah, for me too," Charlie agreed in a voice barely above a whisper, "Hey, Dead End? Wanna be friends?"

"Do I have to do anything?" Dead end asked lazily.

"Not unless you want to," Charlie replied with a smile, "Friends talk to each other and do things for each other, but only if they want to."

"Hm...I think I know one way to make your tormentors eat slag," Dead end said with a wicked smirk, "My alt mode is a maroon colored Lamborghini Conthatch. If your enemies saw you driving such an exclusive car they might become jealous of you. If the car ran over their feet, it would be even better."

"Maybe," Charlie shrugged, "I would feel weird sitting inside you, knowing you're alive and can see and hear me. I would never feel comfortable bringing a girl in you. Not that it would ever come up."

"Your species is obsessed with sex," Dead End replied flippantly, "Trust me, someday someone will want you. It'a a foregone conclusion."

Charlie didn't believe that, but the matter-of-fact way Dead End said that almost made him want to believe. Dead End might've been a bizarre robot, but he was also someone that was honest with him and yet not judgmental. It looked like this was the beginning of a strange yet welcome friendship.