10_orders 07. Go to Hell
Title: Breakdown
Pairing/Characters: First Aid and Red Alert; mentions of others briefly
Prompt: 07. Go to Hell
Rating: K+/T
Warnings: Unbeta'd, set in Bayverse, mentions of human death, brief mentions of various bits and pieces one would see in a medbay during a battle for both humans and Cybertronians.
Summary: First Aid was never supposed to feel things like hate or any other ugly feelings, but that's a lie. He just hides them better then everyone else.
======================================================================
The aftermath had been a gruesome and couldn’t truly be seen in a full image. Just a brief snapshot of each individual piece, because the whole was something he wouldn’t be able to handle right now. Would make him freeze up and with his hands deep inside the chest plates of one of his brothers that would be a very bad thing. So instead he only saw it in bits and pieces as he worked to keep Blades online and away from deactivation.
Snap
The rumbling as another large discharge of a weapon that they hadn’t even known was being made struck the outer walls.
Snap
Hound, missing his entire left leg, hopping into the makeshift medbay, a very charred looking Huffer in his arms.
Snap
The frantic pings of Hot Spot directing Groove and Streetwise to counteract an ambush on Major Lennox’s convoy.
Snap
The shouts and screams from the human side of this cavernous room as more and more humans, so fragile but so determined to help with this war they had been brought into and he and his brothers built for, were brought in missing limbs and the red of their blood making a trail from the door to the medics.
Snap
Prowl’s voice on the encrypted general channel still calm but edged in sharpened steel giving orders and commands in a way that no one dared to even think or deny, but obey those words as if they had always been programmed to follow Prowl’s voice.
Snap
His hands stained to the point the paint was not seen snapping the last piece into place and helping Blades sit up, even as he wanted to tell him to stay put and not go out anymore, but instead just curling his own fears deeper in to be calm and there for them all as he went on to the next patient.
Snap
The sudden quiet that always happened just before the battle weary would come trickling in with Ratchet at the lead already barking orders and flinging curses at the mechs who were a little too close to the Matrix for the CMO’s comfort.
Snap
Triage and endless repairs that seemed to become more horrid and out of focus that the one he was working on never registered past anything but their injuries and past temperaments of other similar injuries. Even when he should know and would become sick with guilt later for not recognizing a face he knew far better then anyone besides Ratchet.
Snap
The cleaning of tools and area, never leaving anything behind as they prepared to head back to a base that was slowly becoming a proper one for both they and the humans.
Snap
Bodies being prepared to be placed into the cold and shiny lifeless boxes with the folded flag of the home country of the empty shell resting inside and letters being made to be given to families waiting at home and soon to be grieving for the one returning in silence and not loud joyful noise.
Snap
The pale blue, almost white optics, suddenly on and slowly growing bright enough to show the mech they belonged to was fully aware. Even as the helm so riddled with rents and tears and melted clear plastic to keep the delicate circuitry that had become exposed sterile, turned slowly to properly look First Aid in the optics; and the world stopped being nothing more then small snapshots of muted noise and emotion because Red Alert, even when glitching and hurt to the point the slightest sound would send him flying for the nearest dark corner in fear, was too sharp and always saw every little thing was never fooled by that trick of acting all right. So First Aid could only stop and have his vents suddenly stutter mid opening as the wary and suspicious gaze that was never really meant but was just a part of who Red Alert was, now fixed on him completely.
Which made it worse because Red Alert never gave his full attention to anyone, because he was always going over schematics for the motion detectors or accessing the camera network because he thought he detected something off in the area that could be a threat; and that was on a good day when his cpu wasn’t whispering more and more threats that could maybe happen and have them all dead and dying on the ground because of a missed security breach. So when he looked at the medic with the focus that on anyone else would be normal it made him shake even more and move with a slowness that would have had others think he was injured to curl up on the berth as well. Right next to the jittery and overworking systems as the sensory net labored under the double stress of injuries and low power to remain at optimal strength. He didn’t touch because no one touched Red Alert outside of offlining him for repairs, but it was enough and he just stayed there and shook and mentally wailed about everything until his intakes hiccupped in the closes thing to a sob they could ever do, and he was once more jealous of humans and their ability to truly show their emotions in such ways like tears and incoherent screaming without it seeming odd or an error in ones coding.
For once First Aid wasn’t needed to be the soothing calm in the middle of the storm and he was allowed to see it all as if he was in the Pit and thus not needed to be happy and instead allowed to be angry and hurt at everything. As he stayed there gaining but not really gaining comfort as he kept his part of the gestalt link muted to let them rest as they needed because of their injuries, and just hated this war and everything it brought about. Not caring or being worried about this venting of these jagged emotions that seemed to clog his very systems for how wrong it felt to be feeling such as he was supposed to be the kind and serene one. Here though, he could see the world as being ugly and scary, even briefly, and not worry about being judged or worried over about it because Red Alert would be a hypocrite to think it was wrong for someone else to think the world was not bright and hopeful when his glitch made him see specters of awful things in the shadows of life.
Life was hell as the humans sometimes said, and it was alright to admit that sometimes First Aid had found, because Red Alert let him see that.
Pairing/Characters: First Aid and Red Alert; mentions of others briefly
Prompt: 07. Go to Hell
Rating: K+/T
Warnings: Unbeta'd, set in Bayverse, mentions of human death, brief mentions of various bits and pieces one would see in a medbay during a battle for both humans and Cybertronians.
Summary: First Aid was never supposed to feel things like hate or any other ugly feelings, but that's a lie. He just hides them better then everyone else.
======================================================================
The aftermath had been a gruesome and couldn’t truly be seen in a full image. Just a brief snapshot of each individual piece, because the whole was something he wouldn’t be able to handle right now. Would make him freeze up and with his hands deep inside the chest plates of one of his brothers that would be a very bad thing. So instead he only saw it in bits and pieces as he worked to keep Blades online and away from deactivation.
Snap
The rumbling as another large discharge of a weapon that they hadn’t even known was being made struck the outer walls.
Snap
Hound, missing his entire left leg, hopping into the makeshift medbay, a very charred looking Huffer in his arms.
Snap
The frantic pings of Hot Spot directing Groove and Streetwise to counteract an ambush on Major Lennox’s convoy.
Snap
The shouts and screams from the human side of this cavernous room as more and more humans, so fragile but so determined to help with this war they had been brought into and he and his brothers built for, were brought in missing limbs and the red of their blood making a trail from the door to the medics.
Snap
Prowl’s voice on the encrypted general channel still calm but edged in sharpened steel giving orders and commands in a way that no one dared to even think or deny, but obey those words as if they had always been programmed to follow Prowl’s voice.
Snap
His hands stained to the point the paint was not seen snapping the last piece into place and helping Blades sit up, even as he wanted to tell him to stay put and not go out anymore, but instead just curling his own fears deeper in to be calm and there for them all as he went on to the next patient.
Snap
The sudden quiet that always happened just before the battle weary would come trickling in with Ratchet at the lead already barking orders and flinging curses at the mechs who were a little too close to the Matrix for the CMO’s comfort.
Snap
Triage and endless repairs that seemed to become more horrid and out of focus that the one he was working on never registered past anything but their injuries and past temperaments of other similar injuries. Even when he should know and would become sick with guilt later for not recognizing a face he knew far better then anyone besides Ratchet.
Snap
The cleaning of tools and area, never leaving anything behind as they prepared to head back to a base that was slowly becoming a proper one for both they and the humans.
Snap
Bodies being prepared to be placed into the cold and shiny lifeless boxes with the folded flag of the home country of the empty shell resting inside and letters being made to be given to families waiting at home and soon to be grieving for the one returning in silence and not loud joyful noise.
Snap
The pale blue, almost white optics, suddenly on and slowly growing bright enough to show the mech they belonged to was fully aware. Even as the helm so riddled with rents and tears and melted clear plastic to keep the delicate circuitry that had become exposed sterile, turned slowly to properly look First Aid in the optics; and the world stopped being nothing more then small snapshots of muted noise and emotion because Red Alert, even when glitching and hurt to the point the slightest sound would send him flying for the nearest dark corner in fear, was too sharp and always saw every little thing was never fooled by that trick of acting all right. So First Aid could only stop and have his vents suddenly stutter mid opening as the wary and suspicious gaze that was never really meant but was just a part of who Red Alert was, now fixed on him completely.
Which made it worse because Red Alert never gave his full attention to anyone, because he was always going over schematics for the motion detectors or accessing the camera network because he thought he detected something off in the area that could be a threat; and that was on a good day when his cpu wasn’t whispering more and more threats that could maybe happen and have them all dead and dying on the ground because of a missed security breach. So when he looked at the medic with the focus that on anyone else would be normal it made him shake even more and move with a slowness that would have had others think he was injured to curl up on the berth as well. Right next to the jittery and overworking systems as the sensory net labored under the double stress of injuries and low power to remain at optimal strength. He didn’t touch because no one touched Red Alert outside of offlining him for repairs, but it was enough and he just stayed there and shook and mentally wailed about everything until his intakes hiccupped in the closes thing to a sob they could ever do, and he was once more jealous of humans and their ability to truly show their emotions in such ways like tears and incoherent screaming without it seeming odd or an error in ones coding.
For once First Aid wasn’t needed to be the soothing calm in the middle of the storm and he was allowed to see it all as if he was in the Pit and thus not needed to be happy and instead allowed to be angry and hurt at everything. As he stayed there gaining but not really gaining comfort as he kept his part of the gestalt link muted to let them rest as they needed because of their injuries, and just hated this war and everything it brought about. Not caring or being worried about this venting of these jagged emotions that seemed to clog his very systems for how wrong it felt to be feeling such as he was supposed to be the kind and serene one. Here though, he could see the world as being ugly and scary, even briefly, and not worry about being judged or worried over about it because Red Alert would be a hypocrite to think it was wrong for someone else to think the world was not bright and hopeful when his glitch made him see specters of awful things in the shadows of life.
Life was hell as the humans sometimes said, and it was alright to admit that sometimes First Aid had found, because Red Alert let him see that.