robothell | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: First Aid and Sixshot.
Where: CITY
When: A while after First Aid gets well enough to walk around again.
What: Not a Date.
Warnings: Gay robots.

There's a Phase Sixer standing outside the clinic's back entrance in his root mode, arms folded and trying to look nonchalant.

It's more awkward than nonchalant.

These past few weeks have been... unfortunate. A tangle of things that Sixshot isn't sure he can undo without complicating matters more- and he's sure he will complicate matters more now with Megatron's training and potential upgrades.

But for First Aid's sake, he's going to keep that under wraps until they can have a proper meeting with the medic, with Ratchet and with the young mech himself.

Until then, there were reparations to be attempted. First Aid... had expressed an interest in continuing their friendship and Sixshot couldn't deny that he wanted that too.

And so he waits.

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Tarn did accomplish what he had wanted with the damage at least: First Aid was perpetually in fear now, often times too anxious even to leave the medibay building. When he did, he had programmed the medical drone to be another set of eyes and audio for him, since while Tarn was still alive, he didn't feel very safe anymore.

It's the drone that first appears outside the building, and once it recognizes the familiar towering frame of the six changer it immediately makes a beeline for him. It hovers in front of his face for a moment, tenting its tiny fingers, before it zips back into the medibay through a specialized hole.

Several minutes pass before First Aid opens the door, but he hovers near it, looking around to make sure Sixshot is alone.

"Six, are you okay? You've just been standing outside for a while."

When the drone appears, Sixshot watches it, curious and silent. He's gotten somewhat used to it preceding First Aid's appearances at least, but the fact that his friend had been reduced to this was...

Worrying.

It's become an oddly familiar emotion these past few months this empty Cybertron. One he's still not entirely show how to deal with.

When First Aid finally opens the door, Sixshot resets his vocalizer and straightens slightly, loosely folding his hands behind his back.

"I was... waiting for you," he says somewhat stiffly. And then realizing that it may have sounded a little ominous, the six-former quickly adds, "You implied you wanted me to visit during the pollen epidemic so I... well."

He's here now and entirely unsure about how to proceed.

First Aid tenses slightly, his hands curling around the edge of the door. Sixshot had changed since everything; he was much more impersonal than he had been with him.

"...I said many things then." Many embarrassing things, fueled by sexual frustration despite getting fragged hard and often.

His optics skim over Sixshot, his expression turning sad.

"But whatever I said I didn't mean anything out of obligation or quite so formal. I'm not a quota you have to reach."

"That isn't-"

Stumbling over his words wasn't becoming of a Phase Sixer and Sixshot quickly stops himself. He cycles in a quiet vent, gathering his thoughts and composure.

Thoughts were the problem though, weren't they? He'd always ruminated too damn much. It was the reason why he was here now, trying to fix a lost connection because he'd hesitated for far too long. He'd been so worried about what First Aid thought about his relations to a mech he never should have trusted as a lover to begin with. And now...

There was so much to lose.

He unfolds his hands and takes a cautious but hopeful step towards First Aid.

"Walk with me?" he asks softly.

First Aid doesn't say anything for a moment, and as Sixshot steps closer he tenses up, his plating clamping down tight against his endoskeleton. It's not really him he's afraid of-- he's afraid to step away from the door. He vents out shakily, then nods.

"Just one moment." First Aid disappears inside the building again, closing the door behind him. Since his unfortunate incident, he wanted to be sure he had a safety net. That meant leaving a note for Ratchet to let him know who he was with and who to call if he didn't answer.

He reappears quickly enough, but it takes him a full few minutes of half starts before he leaves the doorway.

"Okay."

Edited 2016-03-31 04:47 (UTC)

Sixshot waits, patient as he has ever been. He doesn't object to the sudden disappearance and does not comment on First Aid's hesitance on the threshold of the door. If First Aid had refused, he would have accepted it so. When the little medic finally dares to stray from the safety of the clinic, however, the tension in the Sixer's frame finally eases.

He reaches out to place a very light hand on his friend's shoulder.

"There is a place I found near one of the subway entrances," he says as they start walking. "I think you will like it."

For every one of Sixshot's strides, First Aid has to take a few, but he keeps up well enough if just because he didn't want to stray too far from the six changer's protection. It's hard to shake fear when every shadow looks like it might be Tarn, or even Pharma, or another member of the DJD.

"Is it far?"

He reaches up, clasping two hands around Sixshot's arm to hold onto so he couldn't get too far ahead. If he started to stagger behind Sixshot could probably just lift his arm up and hoist him to cover the distance.

"Not too far. About ten minute's walk."

He adjusts his pace to fit First Aid's rather than letting the smaller mech struggle to keep up. Lifting the smaller mech up to cover the distance doesn't even occur to him at the moment: their relationship felt too fragile for anything more than the light contact he had on his friend right now.

"... How have you been?"

That's a good question.

"I'm feeling... better. It's been nice to be able to get productive again. I used to just find any opportunity to slack, but when resting is all you can do, working is a nice change."

Helps him keep his thoughts busy. First Aid hasn't been sleeping well, but it was sort of the package that came with surviving the DJD. Most of the mechs he knew that had faced them had continuous nightmares.

"You've been busy?"

"I have been training Megatron," Sixshot admits, somewhat awkwardly. It's... a subject he knows First Aid wouldn't be happy to hear about, but he'd rather be honest with him right now. No more secrets.

"He is progressing well, but he's limited by his frame."

Which... is actually a subject he means to bring up with First Aid and Ratchet soon. He needs to work out how to do it without making it sound awful, first.

Of course First Aid finds it displeasing; he had voiced his displeasure with the idea of training Megatron at all when he had been laid up in the medibay on life support, when Sixshot had first mentioned it. His frown could almost be heard.

"Of course he is. His spark didn't choose it."

By all means, Megatron's sentio metallico should have formed his own protoform and frame, but Brainstorm and Whirl had seen fit that would never happen. First Aid isn't about to elaborate either.

"He should be spending more time in the clinic, learning new skills, if he wants to be a doctor. That's how I learned epidemiology."

Sixshot very carefully avoids pointing out that his own frame wasn't of his spark's choosing anymore either. Six modes wasn't natural for a forged frame and Shockwave had discarded his old body, considering it 'limited'.

He'd had the vague idea that Autobots would still have prejudices against constructed frames, but it's odd hearing it from First Aid.

"He wants to protect you," he says instead. "And he is ambitious. I'm less worried that he can't achieve what he wants and more worried about his ability to pace himself."

First Aid bristles slightly. He didn't really want Megatron to go down that path, to feel like he was obligated to take this leadership role for a faction that barely exists here.

"I'm his CMO. I know he means well, but I don't think this is necessary."

He can't force Megatron to do things, and he knows he was stubborn in his youth too.

"I assume you'll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't though?"

"First Aid..."

How does Sixshot explain his worries? That he, alone, isn't enough to protect everything? That a Phase Sixer by himself could level a planet but what if Megatron was caught out alone and too far from him one day?

He hadn't been there to protect First Aid when he'd needed it the most, after all. What's to stop it from happening again?

"I will do my best to make sure he does not burn himself out."

The hand on First Aid's shoulder gives a gentle, uneasy squeeze.

That hand could easily just take a chunk out of him with enough pressure, but he trusts Sixshot. He feels comfortable in his presence, even if he wasn't entirely happy with him at the moment. He could at least accept that. That was the least the six changer can do for him.

"Thank you."

He walks in silence for a bit, occasionally limping when his leg began to ache. Without a CR chamber or many replacement parts healing was a slow process. He was well enough to walk, but sometimes he had a pang of pain in his hip.

"You didn't take me out here just to talk about that, did you?"

"I did not," Sixshot agrees quietly, noting the growing limp. Without entirely thinking about what he was doing, he leans down to pick First Aid up, large hands under the smaller medic's shoulders and thighs.

He was so light, it was almost like the Sixer wasn't picking up anything at all. It was only the feeling of scarred, warm plates against his that grounds him.

From this new vantage point, First Aid will be able to see just what it was Sixshot wanted to show him: in the distance, glimmering in the strange sunlight, is a waterfall.

A spring had bubbled into life uphill of a collapsing subway entrance and now it was cascading into a large, deep pond that was lit from beneath by the glow of strange crystalline objects. Around it, equally strange, metallic plants rose up interspersed by shards of pale, glimmering energon.

Sudden actions had the unfortunate affect of terrifying him much more easier now; First Aid makes a small noise when the ground suddenly disappears from under his feet, his spark surging with surprise. His frame tenses up, plating flaring slightly, but he throws an arm around Sixshot's neck rather than flailing away, clinging for safety.

It takes him a moment to pry himself enough away from Sixshot to look, and there's a notable invent as he takes in the scenery. It was... he had to admit, very beautiful. For a moment, he doesn't know what to say, since he's still uncertain why Sixshot decided to show him, but at the same time he's... grateful.

"I've been spending so much time in the medibay I've almost forgotten how beautiful it can be out here."

He hadn't really had many opportunities to see many things from this. He went from Messatine to the Lost Light, to here where he spent much of his time indoors.

The sudden clinging startles Sixshot more than he'd like to admit. This hadn't been the reaction he'd been expecting and he stops in his tracks.

"First Aid?" he says quietly to the mech curled up in his arms, unsure if he should set the ambulance down or not.

When his friend finally does uncurl enough to peer out at the scenery however, Sixshot allows himself to vent quietly in relief. Tentatively, and careful not to jostle the medic anymore than strictly necessary, Sixshot starts walking again.

"I thought you might like it." There's a smile in his tone.

The reaction was a little bit extreme, he knows. He feels somewhat bad about it, but it was a hard thing to shake. It would just take... time. First Aid doesn't bother apologizing, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were, and instead settles against Sixshot's chest as he walks closer.

"It's weird, isn't it? Even with Cybertron renewed, it doesn't look anything like this at home."

Sixshot tucks First Aid a little closer as the smaller mech settles, a warm rumble rising up from his chest.

"The last I saw of Cybertron, it'd just been a husk." The ground is turning blue around his feet, strange grass-like sprouts rising from the ground in a thick blanket. Here and there, dots of glowing flowers bloom against the blue and the Sixer takes some care not to step on them.

"What's it like? The renewed world?"

"I didn't get to see much, admittedly. There's only one city. New Iacon. Starscream is Emperor."

The vibration of Sixshot's reactor was nice, though. He could lean against his chest and listen to it all night, forget that he was outside and far away from the security of his room.

"The rest of it is wild. Hostile. I mean literally, in the sense it tries to grab you." He hums, thinking back to Iacon and Caminus. "But I really didn't see much of the outskirts. The last time I was there, I pretty much immediately space bridged to Caminus to protect it as Defensor."

He's not good at explaining things, Sixshot. Though he does realize he probably needs to fill in, frame warming sheepishly.

"Caminus is one of the Titan colonies. Religious folk."

"Starscream is the Emperor."

... Okay, he's not... entirely surprised. Disappointed maybe? Disappointed definitely. And a little bit offended. He'd disliked Starscream from day one and the bastard using his shut down code on him hadn't endeared the jet to Sixshot either.

He sighs very, very quietly and slows to a stop at the edge of the water.

"You never spoke of these events before," the Sixer says as he kneels at the edge of the pool. "I mean, we didn't really have in depth discussions of our background, but you didn't talk about being a combiner until... well."

Edited 2016-05-13 05:43 (UTC)

"Yeah, not many people happy about it, but he was who they chose. He apparently exiled both Decepticons and Autobots from the city if they didn't renounce their faction."

First Aid's frame warms a little at that, but that was over embarrassment rather than bashfulness.

"No, we didn't..." he admits, feeling somewhat bad. He knew Sixshot's background well enough, since he remembered the feeling of being so sure he was going to be killed. Now, though, he simply doesn't care what kind of background he had.

"It sounds odd but... I didn't really remember until recently. I know it wasn't just some odd dream, since I can feel the coding. I don't know how it was for other combiners, but it feels like a large piece of me is missing."

"... I can only assume the only reason they've chosen him and not one of their own is that they've been horribly misinformed about him."

When it came down to it, Starscream wasn't the worst leader, but there were soooo many better choices out there. So many that Sixshot didn't have a personal vendetta against.

"A lot of combiners describe that feeling when they're separated from their team." Sixshot loosens his grip and sets First Aid down on his lap, letting the medic decide if he wanted to go exploring or not. "Especially if it's a close knit team."

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