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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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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