[RL with Bumblebee--Mercy misson~]

[death_chopper]

[Blackout's holed himself up in a wind-worn rock formation, curling in the relative shelter when night falls, or to get out of the wind. He'd be there now, as well, if it weren't for the fear that the rocks would scatter or impede the signal from his PDA

Comments

[yellowbeebot]

[Luckily for Blackout, that signal is very usable just for that purpose. The Autobot is hurrying through the desert, clouds of dust following in his wake as he closes in on the Decepticon turned human. Why is he doing this? Compassion? Pity? He's not sure.]

[There! His sensors pick out the single biological life form curled against a rock and he shifts into a higher gear, moving faster now then any human car should be able to. There's a screech and whine of breaks as he comes to a stop next to Blackout, engine rumbling.]

There you are.

[death_chopper]

[He'd heard him coming, thought it seemed lamentably short notice compared to what he was used to. Fragging weak auditory receptors, practically useless--! But this wasn't the time to dwell on it.

He stared balefully at the approaching Autobot, wishing there was a way to control the acceleration of the fuel pump in his human chest, wishing he felt confident enough in his equilibrium to stand and meet him on his feet-- there was a (rather large) part of his mind that was convinced the Autobot was here to kill him, despite what he'd said.]

Yes. [He made no move to stand, yet, just watching.]

[yellowbeebot]

[A moment passes as Bumblebee looks over Blackout, a pang of pity and something uncomfortably close to disgust rising in him. He fights it down, instead opening the passenger side door with a faint click.]

I assume you want a ride out of this forsaken place, Blackout. [His tone is curt, almost painfully polite.]

[death_chopper]

I don't think I ha-- [He has to stop, another fit of coughing wracking him, badly enough that he has to curl further around himself for a moment. Embarrassing. He finishes weakly.] ...Have much choice.

[He lurches to his feet, practically clinging to the rock in an attempt to offset the weakness in his whole body and the sudden vertigo that sweeps him. He tries to cover it by reaching for the PDA. Look, I planned this, I'm totally not hanging on to this rock because I can't stand up straight.]

[yellowbeebot]

No. No you don't.

[As Blackout lurches, Bumblebee swivels and rolls closer, closing the distance to make things easier on the Decepticon. Unfortunately for Blackout, Bumblebee's sensors are easily able to determine how poorly off he's doing.]

[death_chopper]

[As long as he didn't rub it in, Blackout didn't care. He didn't particularly want to know how badly off he was. He watches the Autobot close the distance between them and nods with as much decorum as he can manage. He takes a moment to gather himself, shutting off the PDA and pocketing it, then turns.

It's only a few steps between the rock and the hard place Autobot, but he stumbles every one of them.]

[yellowbeebot]

[Doesn't show any sort of emotion as the 'Con stumbles into the seat. As soon as he's inside, the door slams shut and Bee peels out, turning and racing for the nearest road. From what he could tell, Blackout needed medical attention, 'Con or not.]

How did you even end up out there, anyway?

[death_chopper]

[It's almost a relief to sink into the seat. Almost. Though this body he wears is exhausted, he refuses to relax. He can't, he refuses to let his guard down any more than he already has.

Yet he chooses to answer his question anyway.]

Where I was when this happened. Not precisely capable of going anywhere.

[yellowbeebot]

[A faint click as his radio comes on, some music playing quietly]

Help! I need Somebody!
Help! Not just anybody...

Ah, yes. But what were you doing out there in the first place, Blackout?

[Probably the first time he's actually used the other's name as opposed to a simple "you," " 'Con," or "Blenderbutt."]

[death_chopper]

[Were he in better condition, he probably would have noticed; despite his claims, though, his squishy organic processor wasn't nearly as efficient as his old one. Not necessarily inferior, but certainly not as good at handling high volumes of data.]

Cl-classified, Autobot. [Scowl.]

[yellowbeebot]

[He rumbles across rough ground, indelicately smashing aside scrubs and debris, something a normal sports car probably wouldn't be able to do in this kind of terrain.]

Fine. Be that way to the mech that just saved your ungreatful Decepticon chassis.

[death_chopper]

[Blackout's tempted to grab at the seat, to anchor himself more firmly, but doubts he'd have the stamina to keep it up. He tries to force his body to relax.]

...Hnh. I wasn't doing anything-- [Another coughing jag, this one fairly mild.] Just...waiting. Nothing more.

[yellowbeebot]

[Finally reaches a scraggly little dirt road and turns onto it, heading for larger, better things.]

Waiting? Waiting for what?

[death_chopper]

Orders.

[He crosses his arms over his chest and looks out the window.]

[yellowbeebot]

[Not much to see out there but sand, rocks and scrubs.]

From Megatron?

[death_chopper]

[Better than staring at Autobot upholstery. Softly:] Who else?