disclaimer: characters are not mine.
warnings: none
The Relative Merits of Pessimism and Angst
Dead End sat in the common room of the Decepticon base and contemplated all the various ways his current activity would get him violently scrapped. Megatron's fusion cannon was most likely, followed closely by friendly fire during the next battle. Of course if the Decepticons waited until a battle to shred him, the chances of them killing him before the Aerialbots did were slim to nil.
Yet somehow, he couldn't bring himself to care. The endless rounds of getting his aft handed to him by the Autobots were just a fact of life. And if Megatron vaporized him, at least his corpse wouldn't turn into a pile of rusted scrap.
And this was mildly distracting. Dead End wouldn't go so far as to call it interesting, but distracting was somewhat better than the blank walls of his quarters.
"I don't know why we bother with any of this," he was telling the human intruder. How the human had managed to get into the base, he didn't know. Maybe if Megatron hadn't vaporized him by the end of the day, Dead End would find out. Doing so certainly couldn't be less interesting than his other entertainments. "If we attack the Autobots we'll just end up getting deactivated. Probably painfully. My body won't even be intact -- those slagging twins will shred it. And then it'll be left on the side of the road to rust."
The human, who hadn't introduced himself, stared at Dead End fearlessly with a red, glowing gaze that would have unnerved anyone else. "And yet, you are not enamored with your ultimate fate."
He sighed. The intruder still didn't get it. "Just because I don't want to end up as a rusted out excuse for a modern metal sculpture doesn't mean there's anything I can do to prevent it. We leave nothing behind; even memories die."
The intruder contemplated the gold claw he had instead of a hand for a few silent moments and Dead End thought maybe the human understood now. He didn't hope -- he didn't think he was capable of hope -- but the thought that maybe someone, even a human, might understand his point of veiw made him almost think that this moment was worth living for.
"I don't disagree," he finally answered turning that flat red gaze back onto his conversation partner, "Though, if life offers you nothing as you say, why do you fight to keep it?"
Dead End wasn't offended -- that would require caring -- and he'd thought about this enough to know the answer. "Because there's nothing else to do. And I suppose some ends are better than others. What does life offer you?"
"Pain," was the intruder's unhesitent response. "Life is my penance. When death comes, I will be released, and I will not allow that until I have atoned for failing Lucrecia."
Well that was new. Most people when he asked that question said things like the possibiltiy of love, or enjoying life, or some other pointless inane thing.
"Tha--" whatever Dead End intended to say in response was lost when Megatron slammed into the common room. It was, Dead End had decided long ago, Megatron's unique talent to slam the doors open even when they opened on silent hydralics. And when Megatron leveled his fusion cannon at the intruder, glaring at them both venomously, Dead End sighed -- so Megatron's cannon was going to be the method of his demise.
The intruder just looked at the alien tyrant with flat, unimpressed red eyes.
"Who are you? And how did you get in here?"
"Vincent Valentine," was the toneless answer, the very flatness of his voice implying that the speaker couldn't figure out why it mattered and that the introductions were taking up valuable time so could we just get on with it? Despite himself, Dead End was impressed with the sheer amount of disintrest the human showed in the threat of the cannon.
Megatron was not impressed and energy gathered in the cannon. The human leapt, higher than a human should have been able to, landing on top of the cannon. Snarling Megatron swung his arm to throw the human into the wall.
Valentine twisted in midair to land against the wall in a perfect crouch, then drew his tattered cloak completely around him and was out of the room in a blur of red. A second later, Megatron had also left the common room, screaming for the other Deceptions to hunt down the intruder, which left Dead End alone and forgotten in empty common room. It was a familar feeling.
Oh well. Dead End didn't hope the human escaped, and didn't wish him luck -- of course Megatron would find him and turn him into a little organic smear. Dead End would probably even be assigned to cleaning up the mess. He returned to his quarters. Maybe there was a book in there he could re-read. Most likely not, though.
fini
notes: this started when i was trying to explain to Doctor Egon why i didn't have anything from the point of view of any decepticons other than scorponok. i told him that anytime i went looking for a decepti-muse, they all hid like rat cowards and the only thing vaguely decepticon-ish i could find was dead end having an angst contest with vincent valentine. he laughed, but said he couldn't really picture it.
so the next time i went looking for a starscream-muse for "replacement: roads" and found these two instead, i wrote it and sent it to him. at the time, i didn't intend to post it.