Transformers: Age of Extinction fix-it fic!
Title: Fix
'Verse: 2007/09/11/14 Transformers.
Characters: Bay'verse TFs and humans.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Brains being a pervert.
Notes: I watched TF4. There are plotholes in it you could drive a Peterbilt through. And there were things I needed to fix. So I fixed.
They huddled together, a small group of people amongst the rubble. Joshua Joyce was on the phone, talking lowly and sternly to whoever was on the other line. His Asian counterpart was also on hers, hopefully acquiring friendly backup before the inevitable parade of local government officials came for them. Cade snorted quietly. Even with a language barrier in place, they'd probably still be easier to get along with than the assholes Attinger had sent after them.
Something creaked in the distance. Already there were clean up crews circling the damaged buildings, cordoning off hazardous areas, working under the shadow of Lockdown's ship. Lockdown's ship. Now there was a separate headache of its own. The thing was a prison, and from his brief sojourn within its creepy walls, it wasn't an empty one. How does one go about processing alien prisoners, some possibly undeserving of captivity, and some most definitely otherwise? Not to mention deal with all the robot troops and weird cyborg dog things still on board.
He leant back against a slab of something, too tired to care what, just that it was solid and didn't burn him, shock him or try to kill him. Well. It wasn't his problem any more. Cade looked at the motley collection of humans and bots, then asked the obvious question.
“So... what now?”
= = =
'What now' turned out to be a beat up looking red car barrelling towards them, skidding to a halt and spilling a young man out from its doors. The kid shouted something, but the words were lost in the sound of the car transforming into a robot (and as one the humans tensed up), one who made straight for Hound, grabbing hold of the large green Autobot's head (prompting a ridiculous protective impulse on Cade's part, one which stalled in confusion when Hound grabbed the red one back in a massive bear hug) and unleashing what sounded like a righteous fury into whatever Transformers had for ears (Optimus hadn't been too forthcoming on the naming of miscellaneous parts during their repair sessions).
When none of the Autobots keeping a wary optic on their surroundings reacted (except to maybe snicker quietly at Hound's predicament), the humans relaxed, turning to stare at the red Transformer's passenger, currently reaching up to touch a kneeling Bumblebee's face, talking to the bright yellow Autobot quietly.
“Dad.”
He turned to his daughter. “Yeah Tessa?”
“I think that's Sam Witwitcky.”
He followed her gaze back to the human and Transformer pair. One of Bumblebee's hands was wrapped carefully around the young man as he pressed close to the Autobot. “The kid the whole world shit itself looking for all those years ago?”
His kid nodded, and Cade exhaled slowly, looking at the two. It hadn't really crossed his mind at the time, preoccupied with bills and inventing and keeping his offspring safe, but there'd been a whole military thing that the Autobots were involved with. There were civilians who associated with the Autobots, worked with them (he'd wanted to be one of them so badly, but there was Tessa and he couldn't just uproot and go sign up). But when the call came out, demonising the Cybertronians and disbanding the military unit, no one protested.
Okay, soldiers could be ordered to shut up, but what happened to everyone else?
= = =
“Sammy boy!”
Joshua watched Brains fling himself at the newcomer, who promptly yelped and grabbed at the small robot, holding him away from his person as Bumblebee loomed in the background.
“Brains... Man, what'd they do to you?”
“Unspeakable things, Sammy. Where are the chickas? I need me some heavy duty comforting.”
“Brains.”
“Alright alright. They made me talk. And fried me whenever I didn't. I don't like thinking about it, okay?”
Guilt flared at the back of Joshua's mind, and he cleared his throat quietly.
“I take full responsibility for what happened at KSI. Whatever the Transformers need, money, shelter, repairs, materials, our entire stock of Transformium, it's theirs.”
Sam nodded as Brains wriggled free and clambered to sit on his shoulder, clinging to his head. Jerking a thumb at the small mech, he replied. “We'll need repairs for these guys, at least. The rest can wait until I make a call. 'Bee, I know you guys went silent for a long while, but can you get hold of Ratch-”
Joshua cringed as a mournful wail poured from the Autobot's speakers and Cade shook his head, taking pity on him and breaking the news quietly.
“Ratchet's gone. I saw the footage of Lockdown tearing out his power source... I mean Spark. I'm sorry.”
“KSI have his remains. I will arrange to have them returned to the Autobots.” Joshua whispered, not wanting to meet Sam's eyes. “Some of his frame...” He swallowed hard. “We had begun the process of recycling the material.” Easier to use distant, technical words, than to consider what they'd done to the bodies of living, thinking beings.
Brains huffed, the sound incongruous to the melancholy mood. As Bumblebee glared and Sam stared in askance at him, the little mech shrugged.
“Oh, Ratchet's dead, but he ain't all the way dead, you dig? One of the advantages of not being an organic. I mean, lop off your heads and boom, all gone. But Ratchet's spark was still lit when you brought it in. Medics always were a stubborn type. ”
“That sphere Attinger gave me.” Joshua breathed, stalking forward, focused on the small bot as Sam leant back warily. “He said there was data in that thing we could use... And we backed up what we found in Ratchet's processors...”
Brains folded his arms smugly. “Good job I got you to hook it up to the power when I did, didn't I? And I will be collecting on that favour, mister. Just you wait.”
Joshua's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then Cade's hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing firmly as he finally met Sam's gaze.
“I know I have a lot to make up for.”
The young man smiled, brief and faint.
“Well... I may know someone who knows a thing or two about redemption.”
'Verse: 2007/09/11/14 Transformers.
Characters: Bay'verse TFs and humans.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Brains being a pervert.
Notes: I watched TF4. There are plotholes in it you could drive a Peterbilt through. And there were things I needed to fix. So I fixed.
They huddled together, a small group of people amongst the rubble. Joshua Joyce was on the phone, talking lowly and sternly to whoever was on the other line. His Asian counterpart was also on hers, hopefully acquiring friendly backup before the inevitable parade of local government officials came for them. Cade snorted quietly. Even with a language barrier in place, they'd probably still be easier to get along with than the assholes Attinger had sent after them.
Something creaked in the distance. Already there were clean up crews circling the damaged buildings, cordoning off hazardous areas, working under the shadow of Lockdown's ship. Lockdown's ship. Now there was a separate headache of its own. The thing was a prison, and from his brief sojourn within its creepy walls, it wasn't an empty one. How does one go about processing alien prisoners, some possibly undeserving of captivity, and some most definitely otherwise? Not to mention deal with all the robot troops and weird cyborg dog things still on board.
He leant back against a slab of something, too tired to care what, just that it was solid and didn't burn him, shock him or try to kill him. Well. It wasn't his problem any more. Cade looked at the motley collection of humans and bots, then asked the obvious question.
“So... what now?”
= = =
'What now' turned out to be a beat up looking red car barrelling towards them, skidding to a halt and spilling a young man out from its doors. The kid shouted something, but the words were lost in the sound of the car transforming into a robot (and as one the humans tensed up), one who made straight for Hound, grabbing hold of the large green Autobot's head (prompting a ridiculous protective impulse on Cade's part, one which stalled in confusion when Hound grabbed the red one back in a massive bear hug) and unleashing what sounded like a righteous fury into whatever Transformers had for ears (Optimus hadn't been too forthcoming on the naming of miscellaneous parts during their repair sessions).
When none of the Autobots keeping a wary optic on their surroundings reacted (except to maybe snicker quietly at Hound's predicament), the humans relaxed, turning to stare at the red Transformer's passenger, currently reaching up to touch a kneeling Bumblebee's face, talking to the bright yellow Autobot quietly.
“Dad.”
He turned to his daughter. “Yeah Tessa?”
“I think that's Sam Witwitcky.”
He followed her gaze back to the human and Transformer pair. One of Bumblebee's hands was wrapped carefully around the young man as he pressed close to the Autobot. “The kid the whole world shit itself looking for all those years ago?”
His kid nodded, and Cade exhaled slowly, looking at the two. It hadn't really crossed his mind at the time, preoccupied with bills and inventing and keeping his offspring safe, but there'd been a whole military thing that the Autobots were involved with. There were civilians who associated with the Autobots, worked with them (he'd wanted to be one of them so badly, but there was Tessa and he couldn't just uproot and go sign up). But when the call came out, demonising the Cybertronians and disbanding the military unit, no one protested.
Okay, soldiers could be ordered to shut up, but what happened to everyone else?
= = =
“Sammy boy!”
Joshua watched Brains fling himself at the newcomer, who promptly yelped and grabbed at the small robot, holding him away from his person as Bumblebee loomed in the background.
“Brains... Man, what'd they do to you?”
“Unspeakable things, Sammy. Where are the chickas? I need me some heavy duty comforting.”
“Brains.”
“Alright alright. They made me talk. And fried me whenever I didn't. I don't like thinking about it, okay?”
Guilt flared at the back of Joshua's mind, and he cleared his throat quietly.
“I take full responsibility for what happened at KSI. Whatever the Transformers need, money, shelter, repairs, materials, our entire stock of Transformium, it's theirs.”
Sam nodded as Brains wriggled free and clambered to sit on his shoulder, clinging to his head. Jerking a thumb at the small mech, he replied. “We'll need repairs for these guys, at least. The rest can wait until I make a call. 'Bee, I know you guys went silent for a long while, but can you get hold of Ratch-”
Joshua cringed as a mournful wail poured from the Autobot's speakers and Cade shook his head, taking pity on him and breaking the news quietly.
“Ratchet's gone. I saw the footage of Lockdown tearing out his power source... I mean Spark. I'm sorry.”
“KSI have his remains. I will arrange to have them returned to the Autobots.” Joshua whispered, not wanting to meet Sam's eyes. “Some of his frame...” He swallowed hard. “We had begun the process of recycling the material.” Easier to use distant, technical words, than to consider what they'd done to the bodies of living, thinking beings.
Brains huffed, the sound incongruous to the melancholy mood. As Bumblebee glared and Sam stared in askance at him, the little mech shrugged.
“Oh, Ratchet's dead, but he ain't all the way dead, you dig? One of the advantages of not being an organic. I mean, lop off your heads and boom, all gone. But Ratchet's spark was still lit when you brought it in. Medics always were a stubborn type. ”
“That sphere Attinger gave me.” Joshua breathed, stalking forward, focused on the small bot as Sam leant back warily. “He said there was data in that thing we could use... And we backed up what we found in Ratchet's processors...”
Brains folded his arms smugly. “Good job I got you to hook it up to the power when I did, didn't I? And I will be collecting on that favour, mister. Just you wait.”
Joshua's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then Cade's hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing firmly as he finally met Sam's gaze.
“I know I have a lot to make up for.”
The young man smiled, brief and faint.
“Well... I may know someone who knows a thing or two about redemption.”