???:

*It's almost cute, how quickly Pepsi Convoy jumps in response to his orders.  He sounds reluctant, but it barely takes half an hour before he can hear Convoy's powerful engine roaring over asphalt and towards the dirt road that has become their rendezvous point.  He knows that no matter what Convoy might say to himself or others, the semi is utterly under his control.  And that makes him very, very happy.*

Convoy:

*Convoy is indeed rumbling down the street, sensors online and keeping a close watch on the distant figure.  All he can do is wonder why, exactly, he's still coming here - especially after their last meeting.  As he pulls up in front of the other - while keeping a safe distance - he finds himself sounding... almost polite.  Unwary, even.*  Hello.

???:

*He smiles - well, his mouth curves a little upwards. Maybe he's smiling.*  Hello, Pepsi Convoy.  *He takes a few bold steps forward, reaching out and putting his hand over the emblem on Convoy's hood.*  How are you?

Convoy:

*He has both hands, Convoy thinks, shifting into reverse and backing away from the other.*  I'm fine.  What do you want?

???:

*Well, he shouldn't have expected his brother to stand by him after he jumped the gun last time.  No matter.  ...What is that?*  ...Transform, Pepsi Convoy.

Convoy:

*Convoy's whole chassis shudders as he tries to disobey the order, but it's really impossible - he finally resigns himself to transforming, standing up tall and keeping his optics on the other.*  What do you want?

???:

*Just as he thought.  Some of the metal of Convoy's face - as well as one foot - is new.  Completely new.*  What happened.

Convoy:

...Nothing happened.  *He doesn't think the rust was much of anything, at least - until something strikes him.  He had almost forgotten-*  Actually, it is something.  *He crouches, slightly, and pins him with his optics.*  I got rust.

???:

Rust?  *...He hadn't thought that the robots could - well.  Of course he did.*  Not keeping yourself clean, I see.

Convoy:

It came from the showerhead I was using at the time.  Strange thing about this rust...  It only affects the alien metal that the Cybertronians are made of.  None of the robots made of Earth materials were affected.

???:

*Well, that's not good.  Oh well, there are ways to fix this.*  Be silent, Convoy.  We aren't here to talk about your rusting chassis.

Convoy:

*And for once - Convoy doesn't follow orders.*  The strange thing is - you said I was created on Earth.  How did I become affected, if that is the case?  *His voice, despite the words, holds nothing but real curiosity.  Maybe there is a perfectly good explanation.*

???:

*-What was that.*  I said, be silent, Convoy.  We are not here to talk about rust.  We are here to discuss your rejoining the Company.

Convoy:

*There is something more here, and Convoy's starting to realize that.*  But-

???:

*This is - how is he doing this-*  I SAID SILENCE.

Convoy:

*Convoy immediately falls silent, staring at him in confusion - and a little shock.  How did he manage to hold off from following orders so explicitly given?  How...?*

???:

That is better.  You will never disobey me like that again, Convoy.  Kneel down.

Convoy:

*Convoy only hesitates a moment, crouching down and lowering a knee into the dirt.  He doesn't want to do this but - for being such a small thing, he is intimidating.*  What do you want...?

???:

Why do you ask such a stupid question, my dear brother?  *He reaches a hand out - his arm stretches out, lengthening in order to let him put his hand on the semi's cheek.*  We both know I want you to come back.

Convoy:

*Convoy starts to pull back, optics narrowing slightly in annoyance.*  We both know I won't come back.  Why do you keep -

???:

*At Convoy's move, his hand tightens its grip, fingers snagging a raw seam from the replacement of his jaw.*  Because you know that you will come back.  Time is running out, brother.  I want you to come back now so that you don't have to lose everything.  If you don't - well.  We'll come get you when you shut down.

Convoy:

*Convoy winces and twists to dislodge the fingers, averting his optics.  He hadn't... forgotten about his expiration date - he simply preferred not to think about it.*  I have -- ...Glit will --

???:

*His fingers dig in, slipping under a seam that normal fingers would never reach, and his tone turns to acid.*  Glit?  That little animal you have talking to you after every visit?  He can't do a thing for you, Convoy.

Convoy:

*The semi shudders, stilling - if he doesn't move, neither will the other - and looks back to the smaller figure.*  But --

???:

*Untrue, Convoy - he uses the lack of resistance to yank Convoy's face down to nearly his own level, voice hissing.*  I know what he thinks he knows, and I know that he is wrong.  Don't be surprised, brother - did you really think that I wouldn't know?

Convoy:

But - how?  *Convoy refocuses his optics automatically, staring at the other.  He must be lying.*

???:

Pepsi Convoy - don't be so naive.  Did you think that your encryptions were given to you by someone other than the Company?  Don't be silly.  I can access anything and everything you might put out there.  There is nowhere for you to hide, nowhere for you to run, and the end is coming.  The road we're on leads to only one destination for either of us - The Company.  You can come now, quietly, or you can come later, offline.  It is up to you.

Convoy:

You - you can -...  *He's not sure what he had thought.  Certainly that things that he encrypted to his friends were, well, encrypted.  But this...*  ...I won't just - let you force me somewhere...

???:

As if you have a choice.  *Never mind that little... problem, just before - everyone has a hiccup.  He lifts his other hand, running his palm over the other cheek and, with slowly extending limbs, he trails his fingers up towards one of Convoy's audios.*  But if you want to do this the hard way...  Well.  I can wait a little longer, I suppose.  *He almost sounds sad, maybe, looking at Convoy with a blank face.*  I had hoped I would get to have you as you are now.  You really are a special little toy.

Convoy:

I am not a toy.

???:

Maybe not.  But you are mine, and I will treat you like any possession that stops working properly.  *With that, his hand turns to syrup, thin tendrils snaking in below circuitry and into deeper processors - places he really doesn't want to go (they were fail-safes, after all).*  I fix them.

Convoy:

*Convoy lets out a shrill, electric noise, trying to pull away from the probing tendrils - and something clicks in his mind, this has happened before, somehow - just before everything goes black as the other offlines him from the inside.*

???:

*He reluctantly removes himself from Convoy's head, flexing his hand as it comes back into form.  He lets Convoy collapse in a heap before him, stepping back to admire his handiwork.*  Every time...  *Still.  He hates doing it - it's just not how he wants to have his brother.  No matter - this time it will be different.  He pats Convoy's cheek, and then moves away, heading for the shack down the road - hardly big enough to hold a person, really, but it does its job.*  Pepsi Convoy, you will learn, eventually, that this really is the hard way - for the both of us.  Now then...  *He enters the shack, and begins setting up the last stage of this little repair session.*

Convoy:

*It must be hours later when Convoy finally onlines himself.  Everything seems strange and slow, and his optics take a long time to refocus on his surroundings.  It takes even longer for him to remember just what happened -*  ....  *He wonders if there's residue this time.  With a low groan, he starts to push himself up, reeling a bit as he rises to his feet.  Vertigo makes him want to fall down - strange.  He shouldn't have problems with that.  Something is biting into the metal on his neck, as though his brother had left his nails digging into him for too long.  He reaches up and rubs at his neck to relieve the sorene-*

Convoy:

....

Convoy:

*Smooth, slightly pliable metal meets his questing hand, and he brings up the other, feeling along it - seams meet his probing, along the top and bottom, leaving him to realize that there's some sort of band around his neck......*