019. Countdown-- Cosmos, Jazz, Skyfire, Wheeljack -- Rating PG

019. Countdown-- Cosmos, Jazz, Skyfire, Wheeljack -- Rating PG

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Ten Times that they shared shy, friendly smiles across the recroom. One curious, and the other lonely but smiling anyway. Sometimes Cosmos wished he had a chance to get to know Jazz better.


Nine Days they spent together on a mission to monitor the Decepticons that went normally, and nine days that they spent in the Decepticon brig. Cosmos didn’t like to think about those days. Watching the other be hurt while he was ignored in a tiny cell. He was a nobody to the Decepticons, a nobody that couldn’t even protect his teammate.


Eight Months that passed before Cosmos got a chance to speak to Jazz alone and attempt to apologize. Jazz had just shaken his head and patted Cosmos on the head with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it mechlet,” Jazz smiled optics bright. “It is in the past and Ratchet patched me up good.”

Cosmos struggled to smile back with his optics, “If you say so. But I would like you to know I am sorry.”

Jazz walked away with a wave, “And I said don’t worry about it. Now if you will excuse me I have me a date with Prowl.”


Seven Weeks after that, Cosmos was finally feeling over the entire incident even if he couldn’t look Jazz in the optics still.

He was finally feeling able to talk to others in the Recroom again. He laughed as he sat beside Skyfire in the recroom. The shuttle was always very kind, he didn’t understand why the others mistrusted him.


Six Days after he got overcharged and kissed the large flyer he was still hiding. Skyfire had pushed him away so fast afterwards, he knew he offended the mech.


Five Klicks into his surveillance mission, he learned why. Skyfire was still seeing his old lover. He wouldn’t report them, it seemed wrong to do so, but at least he knew now it wasn’t just because it was him. The thoughts distracted him and he crashed. The injury was minor but he would still have to visit the medbay.


Four Hours of watching Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Perceptor working together in the medbay, laughing and joking, and all he wanted to do was curl up and recharge back in his quarters. Sometimes he thought Wheeljack was a bit like himself, but seeing him at work made him realize he had been wrong.


Three Things had always kept him going in the past, his belief in the Autobot cause, his belief in Primus, and the words of his creator. His creator had always told him there was a mech or femme out there for everyone. Maybe it was time to face the fact that if his mech had existed at all they were probably long offline now.


Two Tears fell from his optics at that thought. He was going to be alone forever. His spark mate didn’t exist, no one would ever really love him. His spark burned as if someone was twisting an energy blade inside it.


One Sob emerged from his vocalizer before he muted himself. No one loved him, so why would anyone care about his pain. He comforted himself with the fact he was due to have a few months in space soon. Up there he could get this out of his system. The only thing worse than a mech who was always going to be alone, always the tag along never the focus, was a mech who couldn’t accept that and be happy anyway. He’d spend his time learning to be happy again in a world where his current lot in life was as good as it could get.


Zero, nothing. Not even dancing through a meteor shower could make him feel happy again.

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017. Religion-- Cosmos -- Rating PG

017. Religion-- Cosmos -- Rating PG

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Cosmos knelt beside the small alter he had built, lighting the energon lamp. The bright pink flame lit up the room with a soft glow. It took his entire ration to be able to do this ceremony, so he wasn’t able to do it as often as he liked.

He bowed and began to say his prayers to Primus, making the proper gestures and blessings to the best of his abilities. He should really have three lamps lit, and he should have a bit of crystal to offer to the flame. This was the best he could do though, and he didn’t think Primus would blame him considering where he was and what he had to work with.

Finishing the prayers he pulled out a small pot of temporary white paint and painted his right servo meticulously with the blessings and prayers. It would ware off by tomorrow morning, it tended to dry and flake off. He traced the symbols slowly, symbols for protections and his wishes. The last stroke done with care he held his servo over the heat of the frame to dry the paint.

Bowing again he meditated on his dreams, and on Primus and their home world waiting for a glass of a special energon mixture to heat. When it was time he drank from it slowly.

It contained a strong hallucinogen that would allow him to reach out to Primus and hear him. He hummed deeply, the vibrations were meant to help carry him into the vision.

He gasped as the vision took him and he was flying.

--

The lamps had long burned out when he came back to the world of the living. His spark burned, his vision had teased him with images of his spark mate, little more than shadows, hovering just out of reach.

He sobbed, why would Primus torment him like that? Show him something he would never have? Maybe Primus was telling him he would meet his spark mate in the Well some day, or maybe he was saying it was time to give up on his wish. Whatever it was, Cosmos couldn’t take much more of these dreams.

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