Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2022-03-27
Words:
379
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
52
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
449

What have I done?

Summary:

Why was he feeling so guilty? Kaon shouldn't have cared about his pet in the first place, and suggesting they risk their lives to rescue it from the Autobots had been downright insulting, if not borderline treacherous. Killing him, if a little extreme, had been a rightful punishment, right?
Right... ?

Work Text:

Tarn paced around his quarters, transformerd, then changed back a second after and paced some more.

This wasn't right, he shouldn't feel like this. Tarn shouldn't be feeling guilty. He had done the right thing, hadn't he? It had been Kaon's fault, after all.

But the pain in his spark was almost excruciating, despite him not being damaged in any way. It frightened him that only a feeling could hurt so much.

Another transformation had his T-cog grinding to a halt, the organ not being able to keep up with the constant usage.

Tarn stared at the mirror in his quarters, his own frightened expression staring back at him. It wasn't right. None of this was right.

What had he done...?

He felt as if he was suffocating, the pressure of his own actions making his throat tighten. He couldn't stand to look at the monster in the mirror, so he swiftly drew back his fist and shattered the whole thing.

The tank walked about his room in a daze. Everything seemed surreal. He glanced at the pictures on the wall, of his team. It had been Tesarus' idea, a long time ago, to take a photo of the DJD together and Tarn had grudgingly agreed.

Tarn took a step closer and looked at each picture, but he could only really focus on one bot...

He ripped off his mask and threw it to the ground, gasping for breath. He couldn't breathe properly.

I've done nothing wrong. I did the right thing.

Tarn kept chanting in his head, but he didn't believe it. Every time he tried to convince himself that everything was as it should be, his spark contracted in pain.

Nothing was alright. Kaon was gone.

He had killed him...

Tarn tore the pictures from the wall and was about to rip them apart, but his spark wouldn't let him. It hurt too much.

Carefully, he set them down on the table in the middle of the room, taking a step back.

He sat down on a chair and gripped his head tightly with both servos, digging the sharp-tipped digits into the plating.

His optics stung with tears and he squeezed his optics shut before they could slip down his face.

"Oh Kaon, what have I done...?"