The third randomverse entry
Disclaimer: do not own Transformers.
Rating: T
Summary: The third Randomverse drabble. The human finds the injured Decepticon and...er..."decides" to repair him.
Author note: I am having quite a bit of vindictive fun towards the “human-fixes-Decepticon” storyline we sometimes find in fanfiction. That is not to say that such a story is poorly written (for that matter, go read “Collision” by “The Feesh” right now!), and when the human insults the script, it is my script (that will never be written) that is being spoken of. Basically, I’m just here to have fun; I mean no insult to anyone.
Randomverse
Third
There was a Decepticon in the background, broken and damaged. And though the human was perfectly aware of what the Decepticon was capable of doing…something in him inspired pity from the organic creature.
“Oh, hell no,” the human said, coming into the backyard. “Not this again.”
“I’m not happy about it either, kid,” the Decepticon said shortly. “Unfortunately, we both have to go through this. So repair me already.”
The human glared, arms crossed. “Why should I?”
“It’s in the script.”
“What? Let me see that.” The human snatched the tiny script from the Decepticon, reading it over, eyes widening. “Who the hell writes this shit?”
“Beats me.”
“Can’t the Original Character Union do something about this? This totally violates our rights as vaguely three-dimensional characters.”
“Kid, they’ve been trying ever since this fandom was born, but the Mary Sue Committee never let them get away with it.”
The human groaned. “Why does that committee even exist?”
“The same reason that sticky fics exist.”
“Why’s that?”
“You think I know?”
The human sighed, went inside the house, and got out a large generic toolbox, and began to rummage through it. “I don’t even know why we’re doing this. You’ll just kidnap me after I repair you to use in a use-the-humans-against-the-Autobots plot.”
The Decepticon looked vaguely surprised. “How do you know that?”
“It’s Friday.”
“Ah, of course. But you’ll never know. Perhaps I shall be grateful to you for helping me, spare your life, and over time we will become great friends.”
They looked at each other, and then laughed.
“I can’t believe you said that with a straight face,” the human said, recovering slightly.
“I’m a Decepticon,” the Decepticon answered by way of explanation.
The human sighed then, and from the toolbox retrieved a spoon and a rubber duck. “You do realize that I have absolutely no idea where to even begin?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Huh?”
“Haven’t you noticed that the humans can screw up in any which way in these storylines and we’ll still come out unscathed?”
“Ah.”
The human immediately began to work. “You know, I don’t know why you guys can’t go to your own damn medics. I mean, you don’t even have proper ones, but still, someone on your base has to know how to freaking repair…” The human took out some wires, shrugged, and then tossed them away. They couldn’t have been important.
The Decepticon rolled his optics. “I know. Apparently I can’t go to them for pride or something because we’re just that badass. Slagging storyline. Myself? I’d rather go see a certified doc any day.”
“Ordinary humans who compassionately fix a Decepticon should be locked in an asylum,” the human continued, coming at him with a dinner plate and a banana. “Or at least should be kept away from small children.”
“Well, that’s not very nice,” the Decepticon admonished lightly. “You would punish them for their kindness?”
He received a pointed look from the human, and more flying wires coming out of his torn leg. “No. The way I see it, people who would shelter/heal/be nice to a Decepticon are just as likely to be shelter/heal/be nice to a thief/hired gun/mass murderer. It would be a public service. Realistically though? If I ever found an injured Decepticon on my doorstep, I’d scream a bit, call the Autobots, and scream some more. That’s what a normal person does.” The human looked up, really, really annoyed. “That is, a normal person who isn’t under a damn contract. Stupid script. ‘I want to be an Original Character’ in the Transformers ‘verse, I said. ‘It’ll be a fun experience,’ I said. I should have listened to my mother…”
“Strange that you put it in such context,” the Decepticon said, watching as the human grumbled to no one in particular. “It is kind of weird that people who would shelter a Decepticon wouldn’t think twice about turning in a serial killer.”
“I call it double standard. You know,” the human added, rearranging the Decepticon’s gears so they looked somewhat like the Big Dipper constellation. “This kind of reminds me of a fairy-tale kind of thing.”
“Really? Which one?”
“The one about the farmer and the snake. You see, this farmer goes to his field in the middle of winter, and finds a snake freezing to death there. The farmer feels sorry for it, and warms it up in his arms. The snake regains consciousness, and then bites the farmer. And the farmer dies, he says, ‘what the hell did you do that for?’ and the snake replies, ‘It’s just my nature, bitch.’”
“Ah. So you imply that these human-heal-the-Decepticon storylines will rarely end well…just because it’s not in our nature to be grateful?”
The human shrugged. “You’re a Decepticon. I have a hard time seeing you being grateful to your own faction, let alone your own species. Being grateful to a squishy? Yeah, right. Someone’s been smoking something. Okay,” the human added tiredly, slamming down the armour plating on the Decepticons…er…repaired innards. “You’re ready to go. You can go kidnap me now.”
The Decepticon regarded the human. “No, I don’t think I will.”
The human blinked. “Huh?”
“You know it’s going to happen. It defeats the purpose. You’re supposed to feel betrayed.”
“Oh. Well…that’s good.” The human walked back to the house, opened the door, and walked inside. “You know, you did just debunk most of the moral of the story.”
“And you’re dismayed?”
The human gave a short laugh, and then slammed the door shut.
The Decepticon shrugged, got up, and walked away.
Rating: T
Summary: The third Randomverse drabble. The human finds the injured Decepticon and...er..."decides" to repair him.
Author note: I am having quite a bit of vindictive fun towards the “human-fixes-Decepticon” storyline we sometimes find in fanfiction. That is not to say that such a story is poorly written (for that matter, go read “Collision” by “The Feesh” right now!), and when the human insults the script, it is my script (that will never be written) that is being spoken of. Basically, I’m just here to have fun; I mean no insult to anyone.
Randomverse
Third
There was a Decepticon in the background, broken and damaged. And though the human was perfectly aware of what the Decepticon was capable of doing…something in him inspired pity from the organic creature.
“Oh, hell no,” the human said, coming into the backyard. “Not this again.”
“I’m not happy about it either, kid,” the Decepticon said shortly. “Unfortunately, we both have to go through this. So repair me already.”
The human glared, arms crossed. “Why should I?”
“It’s in the script.”
“What? Let me see that.” The human snatched the tiny script from the Decepticon, reading it over, eyes widening. “Who the hell writes this shit?”
“Beats me.”
“Can’t the Original Character Union do something about this? This totally violates our rights as vaguely three-dimensional characters.”
“Kid, they’ve been trying ever since this fandom was born, but the Mary Sue Committee never let them get away with it.”
The human groaned. “Why does that committee even exist?”
“The same reason that sticky fics exist.”
“Why’s that?”
“You think I know?”
The human sighed, went inside the house, and got out a large generic toolbox, and began to rummage through it. “I don’t even know why we’re doing this. You’ll just kidnap me after I repair you to use in a use-the-humans-against-the-Autobots plot.”
The Decepticon looked vaguely surprised. “How do you know that?”
“It’s Friday.”
“Ah, of course. But you’ll never know. Perhaps I shall be grateful to you for helping me, spare your life, and over time we will become great friends.”
They looked at each other, and then laughed.
“I can’t believe you said that with a straight face,” the human said, recovering slightly.
“I’m a Decepticon,” the Decepticon answered by way of explanation.
The human sighed then, and from the toolbox retrieved a spoon and a rubber duck. “You do realize that I have absolutely no idea where to even begin?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Huh?”
“Haven’t you noticed that the humans can screw up in any which way in these storylines and we’ll still come out unscathed?”
“Ah.”
The human immediately began to work. “You know, I don’t know why you guys can’t go to your own damn medics. I mean, you don’t even have proper ones, but still, someone on your base has to know how to freaking repair…” The human took out some wires, shrugged, and then tossed them away. They couldn’t have been important.
The Decepticon rolled his optics. “I know. Apparently I can’t go to them for pride or something because we’re just that badass. Slagging storyline. Myself? I’d rather go see a certified doc any day.”
“Ordinary humans who compassionately fix a Decepticon should be locked in an asylum,” the human continued, coming at him with a dinner plate and a banana. “Or at least should be kept away from small children.”
“Well, that’s not very nice,” the Decepticon admonished lightly. “You would punish them for their kindness?”
He received a pointed look from the human, and more flying wires coming out of his torn leg. “No. The way I see it, people who would shelter/heal/be nice to a Decepticon are just as likely to be shelter/heal/be nice to a thief/hired gun/mass murderer. It would be a public service. Realistically though? If I ever found an injured Decepticon on my doorstep, I’d scream a bit, call the Autobots, and scream some more. That’s what a normal person does.” The human looked up, really, really annoyed. “That is, a normal person who isn’t under a damn contract. Stupid script. ‘I want to be an Original Character’ in the Transformers ‘verse, I said. ‘It’ll be a fun experience,’ I said. I should have listened to my mother…”
“Strange that you put it in such context,” the Decepticon said, watching as the human grumbled to no one in particular. “It is kind of weird that people who would shelter a Decepticon wouldn’t think twice about turning in a serial killer.”
“I call it double standard. You know,” the human added, rearranging the Decepticon’s gears so they looked somewhat like the Big Dipper constellation. “This kind of reminds me of a fairy-tale kind of thing.”
“Really? Which one?”
“The one about the farmer and the snake. You see, this farmer goes to his field in the middle of winter, and finds a snake freezing to death there. The farmer feels sorry for it, and warms it up in his arms. The snake regains consciousness, and then bites the farmer. And the farmer dies, he says, ‘what the hell did you do that for?’ and the snake replies, ‘It’s just my nature, bitch.’”
“Ah. So you imply that these human-heal-the-Decepticon storylines will rarely end well…just because it’s not in our nature to be grateful?”
The human shrugged. “You’re a Decepticon. I have a hard time seeing you being grateful to your own faction, let alone your own species. Being grateful to a squishy? Yeah, right. Someone’s been smoking something. Okay,” the human added tiredly, slamming down the armour plating on the Decepticons…er…repaired innards. “You’re ready to go. You can go kidnap me now.”
The Decepticon regarded the human. “No, I don’t think I will.”
The human blinked. “Huh?”
“You know it’s going to happen. It defeats the purpose. You’re supposed to feel betrayed.”
“Oh. Well…that’s good.” The human walked back to the house, opened the door, and walked inside. “You know, you did just debunk most of the moral of the story.”
“And you’re dismayed?”
The human gave a short laugh, and then slammed the door shut.
The Decepticon shrugged, got up, and walked away.