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Drift had mourned for so long after Ratchet passed.
Who wouldn't? I mean, to lose a loved one was rough; much less one who knew you so intimately. Drift visited every day for so long until eventually it dwindled down to once a week, a month, a year.
-
Drift was currently at Maccadams with Rodimus. Sipping engex, as one would at a bar. He’d just visited Ratty’s marker yesterday, a yearly occurrence on that anniversary. He felt tired. Why did he feel so tired?
“I’m gonna head home Roddy.” Drift got up from his stool and paid his tab to Swerve.
“Aw, so soon? I was just gettin’ started.” The speedster slurred.
They’d been here for a bit.
“Yeah, feeling tired.”
“Alrigh, stay safe Drift.”
-
Drift opened the door to his suite, trudging in past displayed memories on the walls and to his quarters. He got rid of a few accessories before hooking in the charging cable and flopping face down on the berth. He felt so tired. He rolled onto his back. He hadn’t felt this exhausted since Ratchet snuffed out.
…
“I miss you Ratty.”
…
No response, expected.
He offlined his optics, deciding to succumb to his fatigue.
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.
.
.
.
Drift stood. Pure blackness.
“Where…?”
Was this a dream? He walked in some random direction till he came across pale blue flowers. Piercing in the void of darkness. They dotted in a line, beckoning a follow. So he followed. Words followed, a small whisper as he passed each flower. Names. After the 5th he’d realized they were of those that died to his servos.
Suddenly hands grabbed him
1,2
3,4
He spooked and whirled around.
Sonic and Boom.
He bolted. Still following the set trail of flowers.
“Just a dream, It’s just a dream.”
He whispered, praying for Primus to have mercy on him.
He slammed right into something else. Large hands swiped at him.
Turmoil. He reeled back and went around.
Tarn
Vos
Kaon
Tesarus
Helex.
Run.
Run.
Run.
Run.
Run.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Megatron.
“Deadlock.” He Rasped.
He drew his sword. Sure Megatron had been “redeemed” but not this version. One that still bore the decepticon insignia. Megatron raised his fusion canon, that bright purple glow getting bright as it charged up.
Hummmmm.
Drift charged forward until that blinding glow consumed him.
-
He landed face first, barely catching himself on his palms in a field of crystal flowers. The sun boring down warmly caused a cascade of rainbows to glint across them.
“Easy there Drift.” A voice practically smiled.
Dark grey servos pulled him up in which Drift’s gaze followed up to a soft yellow opticed gaze.
.
.
…
“Wing…”
He said so quietly it almost hurt.
“We’ve been waiting for you.”
“We?”
A nod. Then Wing moved out of the way.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Drift was up and running until he full body slammed into a warm familiar frame.
Orange and White.
“RATCHET.” He practically sobbed, hugging the light of his spark close.
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….
…
..
.
“Drift.”
Strong arms hugged him back.