Author's Notes : Blurr oneshot inspired off of a pic by bbpuyo on deviantART:

http : //bbpuyo. /art/ Shockwave-and- Blurr- Halloween- 139884714 (remove spaces) I also did a pic after a rather odd dream, but I haven't gotten around to putting it up yet.

Disclaimer: Blurr would still be alive.

Even in recharge, Blurr could not move.

Dreams, as the Earthlings put it, did not happen to Cybertronians. The 'dreams' were usually pieces of code stored inside their CPU for millions of stellar cycles, from their youngling age. Memories, if you will.

He remembered hearing the underground racers speaking of so-called 'dreams,' where they drove, faster and faster, until they hit a wall.

It seemed to be a popular one. And with the racer's casualty rates, not a stupid one.

Never in his memory banks could Blurr recall a time he could not move. The stint on Earth had been an exception, a misstep on his part.

Never could he recall this 'dream' happening his real life. This was something else.

In the dream, he would be standing, motionless of course, in a small, pitch black room. He knew it was small because whenever the door opened, the light would bounce off one wall, hitting him in the optics.

In waking, it was still black. Sometimes, when he found the energy to open his optics, a red circle would be staring down at him, sometimes moving, sometimes not. Once he would have sworn a claw (not a servo, a claw) had grasped his mangled arm, causing his damaged vocaliser to whimper in pain.

It never happened again.

In the dream, when the door opened, a tall figure stood there. His shadow elongated to much larger proportions than he was, or should have been.

In his CPU, Blurr knew who it was. It was the faceless traitor, Shockwave, who had somehow managed to impersonate Longarm Prime, smash him into a cube, and…

Untangle him? Was it Shockwave who had touched his arm? Shockwave who was slowly repairing him piece by piece? He doubted that the spy could be so emotional as to touch his prisoner.

In the dream, Shockwave never moved a gear. He stood there, never leaving, never coming closer.

If he could have, Blurr would have run. He would have run faster than he had to escape the two Seeker clones, faster than he had run to Cybertron.

But in either of his strange worlds, he could not move.

After a while, it didn't matter anymore.

Author's Note: Happy Halloween!