“Come home, my darling,

        Come home, my dear,

        Come home my sweetest,

        While I’m still here.”

        Fay fiddled quietly with her nails as she sat on her bed, singing quietly to the words of a song that came straight from her spark. She’d never heard the words before aside from when they came out of her, and they flowed easily like she’d heard them a thousand times before.

        “I’m waiting for your voice,

        For your familiar sounds,

        I’m sitting here missing your colors,

        And everything that still resounds.”

        The crescent moon was outside her window, haunting her with its dull light as the sunrise began to overtake the sky. Soft and subtle colors tinted the former darkness, and Fay didn’t have a clue who or what she was singing about. She certainly wasn’t home. This place was not ‘home’ nor would it ever be. But she knew that she missed someone. Enough so that she created words in a way she hadn’t in a long while. During middle school, song lyrics had been a norm for her, but had become less so in recent years.

        “Come home, my darling,

        Come home, my dear,

        Come home, my sweetest,

        While I’m still here.”

        Fay wondered about her life as a Cybertronian. About what adventures, and perhaps misadventures she’d endured as FarLust. As the femme that had been deadly and calculated, built to obey and annihilate. How many sparks had she taken? Looking down at her hands, Fay wondered if she had harmed anyone she would have called a friend in this life. Had she killed those she would have called allies?

        “I’m waiting so quietly, ever so patiently,

        Dearest spark closest to mine,

        Far too gentle for the damage to be dealt,

        Sweetest little spark, far too fine.”

        The war had been corrupt. The war had killed so many in the actions warriors were forced to take. But Fay hadn’t been a weapon. As she had been, FarLust -- FarLust had been a weapon. She had only done what she was chosen to do. If she had disobeyed, she would have been killed. Offlined. FarLust had been in a dangerous place. A dangerous position. Sighing slowly, Fay tried to come to terms with what had most likely happened by rationalizing it this way.

        “Come home, my darling,

        Come home, my dear,

        Come home, my sweetest,

        While I’m still here.”

        Fay’s spark ached a bit at the words, even though she didn’t preplan a single verse, it just broke her a bit to keep singing. Yet, if she stopped, she might not forgive herself. Her spark urged her on.

        “Wait for me, my darling,

        Wait for me, my dear,

        Wait for me, my sweetest,

        I’ll come for you while you’re still here,

        Don’t you give in my gentle spark,

        Don’t you yield to them my quiet one,

        While I realize you may hurt,

        Don’t let them make you done,

        The sunrise is near for us, my broken weld.”

        Breathing slowly, Fay stopped, one of her hands gripping the opposite wrist. She didn’t understand the words, she only knew that it brought her a bit of panic. It drove her insane. She wanted to save . . . That . . . That spark. Whatever it was and wherever it was from. All she knew was that things couldn’t have been well the last time she encountered this thing. Fay was completely aware of the fact that this could have been as FarLust. In fact, she was aware that it was more than likely, if not for certain.

        ~~~

        ‘Don’t you touch him!’ In her processor, FarLust had snapped the words at Shockwave and Megatron, but on the surface, she remained as calm as ever. If she let the Decepticons know she cared about him, they wouldn’t hesitate to go out of their way to harm BrokenWeld. They may even offline him to add to her lesson. So FarLust feigned disinterest and let her optics rove around the small dungeon that had become her primary residence. Truthfully, she wanted to rip their sparks out with her bare hands, but it simply wasn’t going to happen.

        Not yet.

        So they scientist and the warlord continued beating the small intern for his inability. For the fact that he’d dropped a sample of something, and the fluid had been lost to the metal and the drains.

        It was solar cycles before FarLust saw him again. But when BrokenWeld returned, he was alone.

        “Have you returned to ruin something else?” FarLust asked, not trusting that they weren’t being watched. She had ceased trusting anything to do with the Decepticons or their activities. “Perhaps drop another sample that will only add to the scratches and dents you adorn so well?”

        “That chemical would have been the start of reprogramming,” BrokenWeld murmured, looking away from FarLust as he trickled a few small vials of liquid down a drain. “I couldn’t let them do that to you. They made a mistake, and you shouldn’t be punished for it. You deserve so much more than what they’re trying to do to you. I’m going to prevent it as long as I possibly can. No one deserves to have that empty look in their optics the way you did.” He glanced over to where she was chained to the wall, an unfazed Clawkin nearby. “You still have it a little. I don’t want to see you relapse.”

        “Why the Pit are you helping me?” FarLust hissed, glaring at him. “You have no reason to aid me. I could never repay the debts you’re stacking against me.”

        “I’m not doing it so that I will be repaid in the future,” BrokenWeld stated simply, his optics looking at her again with a sorrow deep set inside. “I’m doing it because you deserve to go free, to have a will of your own, and to have a home where you may reside outside of the war once it’s all said and done. Because you could be so much more than the weapon they’ve tried to make you.”

        “You speak nonsense,” FarLust muttered, looking away from him. “I exist solely for destruction and death. I have no other purpose. I am not a free spark.”

        “You could-.”

        Her spark sputtered then, surging as it flickered in its volatile way. She snapped. “I am meant for nothing other than destruction of those like you!”

        BrokenWeld paused, recognizing the look she held. Clawkin looked up briefly, watching them. “I would take you so far from this place that you would be safe,” ‘Weld murmured. “I would give you a place to call home. To Pit with the ‘Cons. They’ve broken far too much this time.”

        Shaking a bit in her frustration, Far glared at him. “Get out,” she grumbled.

        ~~~

        Fay realized that more than anything, she wanted a home for her spark.