Ameliorate (Tformers100; Hoist, Fireflight, Silverbolt; Table: Peace; Prompt: #3- Healing)
Title: Ameliorate
Series: Transformers G1
Table(s): Peace
Prompt: Healing
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Hoist, Fireflight, Silverbolt, Grapple's nominally involved; a few others mentioned
Word Count: 1,189
Summary: Hoist assuages some of Fireflight's fears.
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to HasTak and whoever else has gotten in on it while I wasn't looking.
Notes: Always look for a second file when OpenOffice recovers something for you, folks. I definitely thought I lost the entire ending to this. Also I probably am scooting the line for 'focusing' on Silverbolt but I tried. Hoist kind of took over.
“It's not that bad, 'Bolt, really...!”
“Fireflight, you had part of a tree jammed into your wing joint! You need to get it looked at!” A pause where Fireflight said something he couldn't quite hear. “Air Raid is not a medic!”
Hoist couldn't help the amusement threatening to reveal itself over his faceplates as he listened to the 'quiet' argument going on outside the door to the workshop he shared with Grapple (partly out of necessity, partly because it kept Grapple from hijacking any poor mech who happened to be around to help him with whatever he was working on at the time.) Sure enough, a few moments later he heard the soft hum of the doors slipping open, and Silverbolt spoke up. “Hoist, could we have a moment of your time?”
Allowing himself a quiet chuckle, both at the jet's hesitant politeness and the fact Grapple hadn't even noticed their new companions, the truck turned to face them with a cheerful expression. “Of course! What can I help you with?”
Fireflight shuffled nervously, held in front of his brother by a gentle but firm hand pressing into his shoulder. “Um... I kind of crashed earlier- it wasn't a bad one, I was barely scraped! But I might have...” Here he paused, the Phantom's wings twitching slightly as he looked down, everything in his posture screaming how embarrassed he was. “Might have hit a tree on the way down and caught a branch in my wing joint and it's gone now but it still kind of hurts and maybe you'd look at it?”
“Of course, Fireflight.” Gently patting the nervous jet on the shoulder, he ushered both of them over to the berth currently tucked in the corner of the room. Grapple had insisted he move it because it was 'in the way', which was honestly rather ridiculous but he'd humored the crane nonetheless. Fireflight scrambled up onto it, almost as if he was afraid Hoist would suddenly reverse his decision (an even more ridiculous notion), and managed to maneuver himself so that the green mech could reach the pained area easier. “Now, let's see what's wrong with that wing, shall we?”
He found the problem as soon as he got a good look- though the main branch had been removed, a few twigs were still twisted and caught in the sensitive joint- and quickly set about cleaning up the mess, only listening to the conversation with half an audial subroutine. “And that,” Silverbolt said, with the exasperated tone of someone who had been forced to have this conversation a great many times, “is why you go to a medic instead of your brothers to get organic fauna- or anything that doesn't belong in your frame for that matter- removed!” Fireflight shifted a little, though not enough to disrupt Hoist's careful work at plucking the bits of wood out of delicate metalwork, before offering up a chastised-sounding, “Sorry, 'Bolt...”
A heavy venting of air followed, and the Concorde crossed his arms, expression softening as he looked down at his teammate. “I don't want you to be sorry, 'Flight. You just need to realize that nobody's going to be mad at you over accidents. That's why Hoist, Ratchet, and First Aid do what they do.”
That caught his attention. Curiously, he paused in his work to lean over, catching Fireflight's optics. “You think I'm going to be mad at you?” He was fairly certain he hadn't done anything to give the impressionable young jet that idea...
His question was met with more squirming as the Phantom looked away. “R-Ratchet's always yelling at the twins for getting themselves hurt outside of battle, and First Aid keeps saying we all need to be more careful, and... And I don't want you to yell at me.” The last part was said in an utterly pitiful tone as Fireflight looked back at him, all wide-opticked nervousness, as if he actually expected Hoist to get angry with him!
“Fireflight,” He couldn't manage to keep some of his amusement out of his tone, “when was the last time you heard me yell at anyone?”
The red and white mech paused, obviously searching his memory banks. “...oh.” He said finally, expression turning sheepish as he smiled at both his leader and the medic.
That resolved, Hoist turned his focus back to the organic matter cluttered in Fireflight's wing with a quiet chuckle, and within a few breems he'd pulled the last bits free, the mech in question twitching it in relief. He turned, offering Hoist another bright smile before he slipped off the berth and nearly overbalanced, the odd angle he'd been sitting at playing havoc with his equilibrium centers. The truck laughed, helping him straighten before playfully nudging him toward the door. “There, you're free! Just don't put too much strain on it until your self-repair patches up the rest of the damage, alright?”
Fireflight nodded enthusiastically before practically flouncing out the door, Silverbolt initially following at a slower pace until he paused by Hoist, giving him a small smile of his own. “Thank you, for helping him. I know I should have been able to convince him he wasn't being a bother, but he just wouldn't listen...” He trailed off, smile giving way to a worried frown that seemed to be his default expression more and more often now.
Hoist waved him off, stepping forward to wrap his arms around the jet with practiced ease, pleased when Silverbolt returned . “Now, now, that's certainly not a line of processing you need to complete. All that matters is he's aware now.” Pulling back, he was glad to see the smile had made its way back onto Silverbolt's faceplates, the worried expression slipping away unnoticed. He gently patted the edge of one wing, ushering the mech towards the door without any real sense of urgency. “I'm going to guess that you left the other three unattended while you brought Fireflight to me?”
Silverbolt tensed for a moment, a mixture of horror and fond resignation flitting over his features at the realization. “I did. I'm probably going to be collecting Blades out of some sort of bizarre circumstance, aren't I.” He gave Hoist a (only partially faked) look of despair, though there was more than a hint of amusement in his optics. “Why couldn't you have given them some self control when you created us?”
“To keep you sharp, of course, my dear Silverbolt. You should probably make sure Blades is still in one piece and they aren't attempting to use his rotary assembly as a human-style ceiling fan again.” He responded teasingly, allowing the Aerialbot to follow his brother out the door to go deal with his team before returning to Grapple's side, taking in the modifications his partner had made to his plans while he was occupied.
Suddenly Grapple looked up at him, optic ridges drawing down in confusion. “Hoist, who were you talking to?”
Hoist only laughed in response.
Series: Transformers G1
Table(s): Peace
Prompt: Healing
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Hoist, Fireflight, Silverbolt, Grapple's nominally involved; a few others mentioned
Word Count: 1,189
Summary: Hoist assuages some of Fireflight's fears.
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to HasTak and whoever else has gotten in on it while I wasn't looking.
Notes: Always look for a second file when OpenOffice recovers something for you, folks. I definitely thought I lost the entire ending to this. Also I probably am scooting the line for 'focusing' on Silverbolt but I tried. Hoist kind of took over.
“It's not that bad, 'Bolt, really...!”
“Fireflight, you had part of a tree jammed into your wing joint! You need to get it looked at!” A pause where Fireflight said something he couldn't quite hear. “Air Raid is not a medic!”
Hoist couldn't help the amusement threatening to reveal itself over his faceplates as he listened to the 'quiet' argument going on outside the door to the workshop he shared with Grapple (partly out of necessity, partly because it kept Grapple from hijacking any poor mech who happened to be around to help him with whatever he was working on at the time.) Sure enough, a few moments later he heard the soft hum of the doors slipping open, and Silverbolt spoke up. “Hoist, could we have a moment of your time?”
Allowing himself a quiet chuckle, both at the jet's hesitant politeness and the fact Grapple hadn't even noticed their new companions, the truck turned to face them with a cheerful expression. “Of course! What can I help you with?”
Fireflight shuffled nervously, held in front of his brother by a gentle but firm hand pressing into his shoulder. “Um... I kind of crashed earlier- it wasn't a bad one, I was barely scraped! But I might have...” Here he paused, the Phantom's wings twitching slightly as he looked down, everything in his posture screaming how embarrassed he was. “Might have hit a tree on the way down and caught a branch in my wing joint and it's gone now but it still kind of hurts and maybe you'd look at it?”
“Of course, Fireflight.” Gently patting the nervous jet on the shoulder, he ushered both of them over to the berth currently tucked in the corner of the room. Grapple had insisted he move it because it was 'in the way', which was honestly rather ridiculous but he'd humored the crane nonetheless. Fireflight scrambled up onto it, almost as if he was afraid Hoist would suddenly reverse his decision (an even more ridiculous notion), and managed to maneuver himself so that the green mech could reach the pained area easier. “Now, let's see what's wrong with that wing, shall we?”
He found the problem as soon as he got a good look- though the main branch had been removed, a few twigs were still twisted and caught in the sensitive joint- and quickly set about cleaning up the mess, only listening to the conversation with half an audial subroutine. “And that,” Silverbolt said, with the exasperated tone of someone who had been forced to have this conversation a great many times, “is why you go to a medic instead of your brothers to get organic fauna- or anything that doesn't belong in your frame for that matter- removed!” Fireflight shifted a little, though not enough to disrupt Hoist's careful work at plucking the bits of wood out of delicate metalwork, before offering up a chastised-sounding, “Sorry, 'Bolt...”
A heavy venting of air followed, and the Concorde crossed his arms, expression softening as he looked down at his teammate. “I don't want you to be sorry, 'Flight. You just need to realize that nobody's going to be mad at you over accidents. That's why Hoist, Ratchet, and First Aid do what they do.”
That caught his attention. Curiously, he paused in his work to lean over, catching Fireflight's optics. “You think I'm going to be mad at you?” He was fairly certain he hadn't done anything to give the impressionable young jet that idea...
His question was met with more squirming as the Phantom looked away. “R-Ratchet's always yelling at the twins for getting themselves hurt outside of battle, and First Aid keeps saying we all need to be more careful, and... And I don't want you to yell at me.” The last part was said in an utterly pitiful tone as Fireflight looked back at him, all wide-opticked nervousness, as if he actually expected Hoist to get angry with him!
“Fireflight,” He couldn't manage to keep some of his amusement out of his tone, “when was the last time you heard me yell at anyone?”
The red and white mech paused, obviously searching his memory banks. “...oh.” He said finally, expression turning sheepish as he smiled at both his leader and the medic.
That resolved, Hoist turned his focus back to the organic matter cluttered in Fireflight's wing with a quiet chuckle, and within a few breems he'd pulled the last bits free, the mech in question twitching it in relief. He turned, offering Hoist another bright smile before he slipped off the berth and nearly overbalanced, the odd angle he'd been sitting at playing havoc with his equilibrium centers. The truck laughed, helping him straighten before playfully nudging him toward the door. “There, you're free! Just don't put too much strain on it until your self-repair patches up the rest of the damage, alright?”
Fireflight nodded enthusiastically before practically flouncing out the door, Silverbolt initially following at a slower pace until he paused by Hoist, giving him a small smile of his own. “Thank you, for helping him. I know I should have been able to convince him he wasn't being a bother, but he just wouldn't listen...” He trailed off, smile giving way to a worried frown that seemed to be his default expression more and more often now.
Hoist waved him off, stepping forward to wrap his arms around the jet with practiced ease, pleased when Silverbolt returned . “Now, now, that's certainly not a line of processing you need to complete. All that matters is he's aware now.” Pulling back, he was glad to see the smile had made its way back onto Silverbolt's faceplates, the worried expression slipping away unnoticed. He gently patted the edge of one wing, ushering the mech towards the door without any real sense of urgency. “I'm going to guess that you left the other three unattended while you brought Fireflight to me?”
Silverbolt tensed for a moment, a mixture of horror and fond resignation flitting over his features at the realization. “I did. I'm probably going to be collecting Blades out of some sort of bizarre circumstance, aren't I.” He gave Hoist a (only partially faked) look of despair, though there was more than a hint of amusement in his optics. “Why couldn't you have given them some self control when you created us?”
“To keep you sharp, of course, my dear Silverbolt. You should probably make sure Blades is still in one piece and they aren't attempting to use his rotary assembly as a human-style ceiling fan again.” He responded teasingly, allowing the Aerialbot to follow his brother out the door to go deal with his team before returning to Grapple's side, taking in the modifications his partner had made to his plans while he was occupied.
Suddenly Grapple looked up at him, optic ridges drawing down in confusion. “Hoist, who were you talking to?”
Hoist only laughed in response.