Fight to Forget (Sunstreaker x OC)

4

Through It All - Spoken
Damage - Red
Bleed - Connor Kauffman

☆☆☆

  For once, Sunstreaker didn't know what to do. The human fleshy's strange dark optics were leaking all over his steering wheel, which was disgusting, but he couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't entirely sure he should do anything about it. What if he made it worse? If he killed it, Optimus might kill him, or worse-- sideline him in an even more horrible assignment than this one. It was bad enough he had to subject himself to this insect, he didn't need to give Prime an excuse to stick him with another one just because he'd 'accidentally' murdered the first.

  He didn't think he could stand much more of this one, though. Already, it had proven itself to be just as weak as he'd predicted. It was crying, according to the internet. What a waste of oxygen. Why the frag had he gotten stuck protecting this horrible excuse for a squishy, and not Sideswipe? Did they want Sunstreaker to kill it?

  She'd seemed tolerable at first. At least she hadn't been a total glitch in front of the other fleshies, but now whatever small amount of good will her aggressiveness had earned her in his optics was thoroughly lost. She was making a mess of his steering wheel, and he couldn't stand the noises she was making. It put him on edge, and he'd had enough of that already.

  He decided after a few very long nanoseconds that it couldn't hurt to try and break her out of whatever the pit she was crying about. It'd at least hurt less than him kicking her out of his alt and driving over her a few times. Even he had enough self-awareness to realize that was cold, but he didn't particularly care. Humans had short lifespans. If this didn't work, maybe he could just kill her, then tell Optimus she died of natural causes. Prime wouldn't believe him, but then, who did? Anything was worth a shot.

  Anything to stop listening to this horrible, wet squeaking sound.

  Sunstreaker ground his gears in frustration for a moment before sending a little jolt of electricity into his steering wheel, reluctantly forcing himself to be gentle. It was a strange sensation for him, since it was technically part of his insides, and right beside his spark, but he tried not to think about it too much. He let the radio buzz to life and clicked through the stations before settling on something loud and annoying that would hopefully get her to reset her processor. It did, and she frowned over at his dash in confusion, hesitantly reaching out to turn it off again. 

  "Stupid ass," she grumbled with a hoarse voice before sighing and sitting up straight. She flexed her hands on the steering wheel, muttering obscenities to herself for a moment before shaking her head with a jerk and pulling a small orange container with a blue lid out of the little bag she carried with her. It rattled loudly when she popped the lid off, shaking a small white thing into her hand and considering it for what felt like vorns before placing it in her mouth. Screwing the lid back on, she tossed the bottle back in her bag and reached over to shift his alt into first gear. Her hands were still shaking on his steering wheel, but she drove back to her housing unit slowly and carefully before parking him on the shady side of the building. 

  And then sat there. She'd already shut off the engine, so at least he wasn't being forced to idle until she eventually decided to get out, but he still wasn't comfortable with her sitting in his alt. It was degrading, almost like--

  Like being a real car. The thought repulsed him. If she was as messy as he'd heard some humans could be, he was going to force Sideswipe to switch with him, Optimus' orders be slagged. There was no way he was going to just take having his paintjob or interior ruined by the little creature. Never mind the fact that this degenerate alt he'd scanned already looked like slag. His thoughts strayed to the mud and rust clinging to his frame, and he involuntarily shivered in disgust.