Behind Blue Eyes

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Disclaimer 6: If my characters' conversations seem odd or they appear to be talking past each other the latter might occasionally be intentional, but most likely it is an accident and I'm not aware that they are. It's just my bad communication skills.

Mirage let himself drop to the ground on the small rise just outside the Ark. It was dark and quiet and nobody would look for him here anytime soon. If anybody bothered to look for him at all. He tore out a handful of grass, ripped it to pieces. Hound would be angry with him, if he saw that. Most likely they all would. Autobots didn’t approve of random destructive acts. Even if it was only grass.

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

He dropped the torn grass, stared at it. Ashamed. This was more the act of a Decepticon, they'd say.

He'd just confirmed again what Smokescreen had said. Not trustworthy, not a real Autobot. Even Prime himself had noticed.

It had been a completely innocent conversation. Mirage had always felt he had some sort of connection with Smokescreen, that, if anyone, Smokescreen could understand his need to hide from everyone including himself. After all they were similar in that. Mirage with his invisibility, Smokescreen with his wall of smoke. They both hid and struck.

No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies

But then their conversation had taken an odd turn. Mirage suddenly had felt threatened, as if Smokescreen had come too close, and had tried to get distance, crawl further into himself, behind his mask.

And Smokescreen had reacted angrily and yelled it out to the whole room that Prime didn't trust him. Not even Prime!

Despite everything he'd thought that he was a part of the group, an Autobot and accepted as such by the other Autobots even if he kept a certain distance from them.

But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be

Yes, he sometimes did things that no other Autobot would feel comfortable doing. Like ripping out the grass just to blow off steam. Like sneaking on board of a Decepticon spaceship to go along for the ride. To go home.

He twirled another handful of grass around his fingers. Just one pull and it would be ripped out. And why would he care? He never cared when he set up one of the Decepticons in some devious trap. Or sometimes one of his own side.

Sag it, he'd only wanted to get home!

I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free

And just what would he do, if he got home? His family and friends were most likely all dead. If any had survived they were hidden far away. He'd never find them. He'd be all alone, just as alone as he was here and now. All he had left was revenge. Revenge on the Decepticons that had started the war that had killed them.

He could just as well do that here. Why this longing to get back to Cybertron, when he knew there was nobody waiting for him there?

Cold revenge. Autobots didn't condone revenge. Fight to protect the living, yes, but never to avenge the dead. There was no sense in more death. Revenge was a Decepticon concept. It only served to alienate him from the others even more.

No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you

But it was the Autobots that had made him into what they blamed him for being. They had trained him to be a spy, taught him to see the world through Decepticon eyes, so he could deal with them better. They were the ones that wanted him to keep in touch with Swindle and Bombshell, even deal with Soundwave or at least his cassette minions.

Couldn't they see how in order to deal with them he had to understand their way of thinking, imitate it, so he could show them a personality they could understand and accept? The more he dealt with them, the more he saw and understood of the Decepticon mentality. The more he understood, the better he could imitate it. The more he understood, the more he could accept and respect it. The Decepticon way of thinking was in a way much more complicated than the Autobot mindset.

It wasn't just a different set of morals, different ideas of what was right and wrong. Autobots had a clear view of what was right and wrong, black and white. The Decepticons' world had neither. It was entirely grey. A thousand shades of grey. A whole world of colours made by mixing the two the Autobots so strictly kept apart.

To deal with Swindle Mirage had to have an understanding of that world, to be able to see it. Even more so, if he wanted to attempt to understand the depth that was Soundwave, a mind much more complicated than any Autobot he knew. A mind more hidden and protected even than his own.

How could they expect him to come out of that untouched, unchanged?

No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through

Mirage let go of the grass he'd been about to tear out and gently brushed it back into position. The Autobots' way was non aggressive, only defensive, and the grass hadn't done him any harm. He had to keep these Decepticon influences on his personality under control. They were supposed to be a role he could pack away, not part of him. His true personality had to be kind and forgiving.

If only it didn't hurt so much. The Decpticons felt that letting hurt and anger out by destroying some innocent unimportant object was a good way to deal with them. Mirage almost grinned at the thought of Megatron throwing Starscream through the Decepticon command center, not because of Starscream's latest scheme to overthrow him, but because he was feeling depressed and frustrated at the Decepticons' latest defeat.

Maybe if Mirage could just go grab Cliffjumper or Bumblebee and ... No, not allowed. Autobots didn't do that! He shouldn’t even want to do that!

But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be

And was that the only reason he didn't mistreat his fellow Autobots like Megatron mistreated Starscream? That an Autobot didn't do that and he was expected to be an Autobot?

Then perhaps Smokescreen was right. Perhaps the Autobots shouldn't trust Mirage. Perhaps he wasn't really an Autobot anymore. But then why did he still long to behave like one, to be accepted, even liked, by his fellow Autobots? Why did he wish so much that one of them would understand what he felt, what it was like to be the bad guy, the one that couldn't be trusted?

I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free

It left him so isolated, so alone. And yet, he wanted to be alone, he wanted to remain safe behind his mask. It was the price he paid for his safety.

Why should he long for companionship? And why care, if it was denied him? He'd always fought it off and had been happy when left alone. If they didn't trust him, they wouldn't try to get close and he couldn't be hurt again. And they couldn't see what shame was behind his mask.

Was it the fact that apparently they could guess what he was trying so hard to fight down?


Mirage's head snapped up. Sunstreaker stood only a few metres away. He hadn't even noticed him approach.

Sunstreaker. If there was one Autobot that Mirage considered truly dangerous one on one it was Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker was capablre of killing someone. Most of the others would try to avoid that final blow. If he'd come to challenge Mirage over Smokescreen's words, punish him for his treachery ...

But Sunstreaker wasn't usually an avenging angel. He was much more dangerous, if personally attacked. Or would he consider Mirage's treachery a personal attack?

"Hi." Mirage answered cautiously.

When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool

"You come here often?"

"Only with Hound."

"Hound's not here."


A pause. Sunstreaker came closer. Walking leisurely. He didn't seem to be enraged at all. Maybe this was just a coincidental meeting.

"He's drunk." Sunstreaker said as he reached Mirage's side.

"Who?" Couldn't be Hound. Hound was off on a mission.

"Smokescreen." Sunstreaker shrugged. "Doesn't know what he's saying."

"Prime ..." Mirage started, then managed to bite back the remark. The last thing he needed was to make Sunstreaker take this seriously.

"Wouldn't." Sunstreaker said with conviction. "Never."

And if I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
And if I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat

Relief washed over Mirage. If Sunstreaker didn't take it seriously, then maybe the rest wouldn't either. Maybe they'd all agree that Smokescreen had just been drunk.

"What’re you doing?" Sunstreaker sat down beside him.

"Star watching."

Sunstreaker laid back stretching out in the grass.

"They're pretty." he remarked.

"Yeah." said Mirage. "They are."

But then Sunstreaker, too, was a bad guy, too violent.

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

And maybe Sunstreaker just knew, that sometimes one just couldn't be as good as one wanted to be. Maybe Sunstreaker just understood that some people just were a little bit grey and understood that it was okay to be so.

Mirage leaned back beside the most violent Autobot of all and looked up at the sky. Yes, the stars were pretty indeed.

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