BettSplendens Tumblr Evac

(7078 words of Duo finding a bedraggled little nerd and proceeding to try their best to help him. It… mostly works. They’re too enthusiastic for this.

No significant warnings, but the unfortunate nerd is some degree of traumatized. Somebody manhandled him pretty badly before this.)

It was an abandoned laboratory, so of course they needed to inspect it! Especially with the temptingly
large hole in the roof, a hole that turned out to be directly over a relatively
solid floor, and no signs of Insecticons in sight. That was an absolutely
perfect place to inspect and/or loot, and Duo climbed inside with barely a
second thought.

There was less inside than expected, unfortunately. Someone
had clearly looted the place already, taking everything they had easily found.
Duo could find more, though, as they were entirely willing to crawl under
crumbling walls and creep through any gaps they could fit through. Basic
chemical supplies, a tool here and there, the occasional shatter-proof test
tube or flask. All useful to them, albeit not terribly exciting.

Something else was more exciting, though. Prints! Tracks
through a spilled puddle of paint from an old closet. And not Cybertronian in
origin, the shape was too pliable. More like footwear, with toes. Interesting-
organics? And large ones, judging by the prints, but long gone. The paint was
dry and starting to show some weathering. Presumably the ones who had nearly
emptied the place before. Shame Duo didn’t get any of that, but- ah well,
everything on the planet was free-for-all at this point. Too many dead people
to worry much about who got the scraps.

A scraping noise up ahead caught their attention, and they
crept up onto a leaning cabinet to peer through an air vent into the next room,
checking whether it might be any sort of predator.

Reasonable expectations included a turbo-fox, a lone
Insecticon, or a very large wire-rat. Unreasonable expectations included a
Sparkeater.

It was none of those things. Fortunately.

It was a mech.

Chained to a heavy table by one leg,
stretched out full-length along the ground, straining to reach a blowtorch that
was just out of reach. The ground was covered in scratch marks, suggesting that
this had been a frequent activity, and some of the scratches were starting to
look weathered- this had evidently been happing for a long time. Another table
had tipped over across the room, shedding contents that included the blowtorch,
and the mech was struggling to reach it.

Duo, of course, sprang to assist, shoving the vent covers
aside to get down into the room. Crooning “ease, friend, calm, here to help”,
they scooped up the blowtorch and moved closer, reaching for the chain to cut
it-

And jerked back in shock when the mech responded by trying
to bite Scissors.

The mech in front of them was a bit smaller than them,
minimally armored, formerly white plating stained and dirty in spots. From what
Duo saw before he scrambled back underneath the table, much of his plating was
dangling loose, some of it tied in place with wires and some of it simply
hanging as if half the latches had been broken. His optics were an odd light
color, pinkish-red, and one was dim and flickering as he glared out at them. A
shard of what looked unpleasantly like his own sharpened arm plating was on the
ground next to the little mech for a moment before he snatched it up, and he
brandished it at the twins like a knife, hissing in the back of his throat in
what must have been an effort to frighten them away.

It didn’t exactly work, but Duo retreated quickly out of
range, sitting with their backs against the other table. A bit shaken by the
sudden aggression, they pressed together and went silent, watching the mech who
they’d meant to help but had only managed to scare. That, oh, that wasn’t their
intent, but what had scared him? Had they moved too fast, or was it the size
difference? Granted, they weren’t that much larger, but smaller mechs tended to
be more aware of who was larger than them- and there were two of Duo versus one of him.

<Oops. Remorse.>

<affirmation/apology>

<Repair method?>

<Release?>

<Release!>

In hopes of calming the poor mech, Duo slunk closer once
again, Scissors holding out the blowtorch in one servo. “Apologies, friend,
meant to help. Take? Get free of chains,” he offered, low to the ground, trying
to be as friendly and unintimidating as possible.

Oddly, the little mech didn’t take the blowtorch, just
glared suspiciously at them. Even when Scissors put the blowtorch down in easy
reach and backed up, nothing.

<Afraid, still.>

<Understood, poor
mech.>

<How to fix- thinkthink->

<Thinkthink->

<Fuel?>

<Won’t take this,
won’t take that. Earn trust?>

<How-think?>

<Check!>

Suddenly excited at their new idea, the twins hopped up and
sprang over the upended table on their way out, through the door they hadn’t
yet passed, hoping to find computer banks somewhere. Labs had staff rosters,
staff rosters had pictures and identifying marks so cleanup crew could ID staff
after disasters, pictures had names attached.
If they could find his name, they could use it, and that might help.

The door they hadn’t entered through led to another hallway,
mostly caved in, with a massive hole in the floor. Probably from an Insecticon
scavenging for corpses. Whatever it was, the edges were weathered, the creature
was long-gone, and the hole was the perfect size for Duo to spring down
through. Off along that hallway, peeking in every door, then along another
hallway and over- ah! A heap of rubble, on the other side of which was a set of
bunk cots and an empty energon dispenser. Standard laboratory staff crash room,
for mechs too exhausted to continue working. Which meant- here!

Under a collapsed slab of ceiling was a small console, meant
for staff sign ins. It had been left alone by scavengers, either due to low
value or due to being hidden, and seemed to be in decent shape. Duo popped the
side panel off and dove into the internal wiring, coming out with the spent
battery that would hold a charge if the main power was shut off. Swap out the
battery, and the console fired up, albeit with a beeping alarm at not being
able to connect to any sort of network.

From there, simply plug in a simple bottleneck computer to
trap any data that tried to come their way without permission, then slip into
the computer and past the standard sign-ins to the emergency files. It was
simple enough to find their mech’s image, as well, those distinctive pinkish
optics stood out. His name was Spinflask, and he’d been the head researcher.
Duo took the image, that description, and all the attached files –job records,
health data, everything available- in case anything could be useful, then just
about climbed over each other getting back up to where Spinflask was. They
could help now! Maybe! Hopefully!

Really, they should have expected the sight that met them
when they bounded back into the room.

Namely, Spinflask vanishing out the other door, having
grabbed and used the blowtorch in their absence. It wasn’t a clean getaway,
though, not from the sound of it- there was a messy, clattering crash as if
he’d tripped over something and hit the wall, and the retreating pedesteps were
shaky and skidding.

Glancing at each other in concern, Duo ran after Spinflask
with a flash of <find-catch>
<need-help> <find-and-help> to each other, wanting to catch up
to him and head him off before he hurt himself or got out to where they
couldn’t help.

Duo shouldn’t have caught up to him with no warning, Syringe
shouldn’t have gotten around in front of Spinflask, and they both shouldn’t
have spread their arms to keep him from running further. And they realized
that, but only an instant after Spinflask reacted within the bounds of
reasonable expectation- namely, by swinging the lit blowtorch at Syringe’s
face. To which Scissors also reacted
reasonably, by leaping at Spinflask’s back and knocking the blowtorch from his
servo, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Both of them reeling from and flaring at the threat, Duo
stayed frozen for an instant, Syringe with his servos up to block and Scissors
on top of Spinflask. There was an instant of <rage/protectiveness> from the both of them, but it vanished in
an instant when Spinflask started screaming.
It was a high, shrill, vibrating sound, one that could have been
intimidating had he been in a different situation, but given where he was it
just sounded desperate.

<oh>

<bad>

<very bad>

<fix>

<how>

<how-fix>

<release??>

<no, run, hide,
hurt>

<help-fuel?>

<choke>

<scared>

<set-free
careful>

<OUTSIDE>

<take-outside-sun,
breathe>

<lift-careful?>

<lift-careful-now>

In agreement as usual, Duo converged on Spinflask, each
lifting him by an arm to put him more or less on his pedes. It would probably
have been easier to outright carry him, he kept alternating between bracing his
pedes and trying to pull away from them, but this felt wrong enough without picking Spinflask up. And what else could they
do but take him outside? If they let go, he was either going to run
–potentially hurting himself- or attack them, and they couldn’t just- what, sit
on him until he got tired? That- that was worse!
Hauling him outside felt like the least creepy thing to do here. Hopefully
it would calm him down, or at least get him to stop screaming.

It did. Hauling a fighting mech up onto the roof was
difficult, but, once they got him up and into the light, Spinflask tilted his
face up and finally stopped screaming. It didn’t make him silent, though, his
cooling fans were wheezing alarmingly and he was still alternating between
trying to escape and trying to bite them. Primus
this mech had endurance- or at least a deep supply of adrenaline.

Well.

Now that he’d gone silent, it was time for a full
conversation, or at least the closest thing they ever got to one over the bond.
More like words than impulses and concepts, at least.

<Pit. Now what?>

Worth a shot. Scissors tried, crooning in his softest voice.
“Spinflask, yes? Easy, friend, trying to help- look, outside now. Sunlight- nice, yes? Breathe, relax- won’t
hurt you. Just- want you to not hurt us! Make
a deal- you calm, stop biting, we let
go. Clear?”

That worked. For about half a nanoklik, in which Spinflask
paused and stared at them, then he shrieked
another wordless sound and tried to bite Scissors’ nasal ridge off.
Fortunately, he missed.

<Nope.>

<Understands, even?
No words in- that. Just screams.
Maybe- doesn’t understand? Codex messed up?>

<Definitely, yes,
so other trouble.>

<Just- insane?>

<Could be, agh.>

<So- what now?>

<Drugs?>

<…hm? Ah- riot
suppressants?>

<So… yeah. Drugs.
Just to- to get to places. But not sedative.>

<Brother, feels
gross- loose plating, not- not good, probably explains.>

Duo made a face at each other over Spinflask’s helm, neither
twin bothering to hide how terribly uncomfortable they were with restraining
and drugging a mech who was so upset, but neither of them had any better ideas.
They couldn’t leave Spinflask here, he’d either hurt them or himself if they
let go, and they couldn’t wait forever. Nor could they hold on forever- they
were starting to get tired, where Spinflask didn’t seem to be tiring at all.

How could one mech have this much adrenaline? Because
Spinflask was clearly running on adrenaline, his EM field almost entirely
hidden but throwing aggressive stabs at them now and then, and he didn’t seem
to be looking at either of them as he
bit. His vents were getting louder, too, starting to wheeze roughly with every
violent action- this couldn’t be good for him. He was going to hurt himself
doing this, or get loose and hurt them.

So… drugs it was. Creepy as it felt, getting him high would
make him much less inclined to hurt somebody, and they could override that
adrenal response. Plus ,they had just the thing in subspace- a mixture intended
to be dispersed into a riot via aerosol grenades to put all the rioters into a
less-than-violent mood. Their aerosol grenades were loaded with a mixture that did act as a mild aphrodisiac in cases,
so they… weren’t going to be using that. It tended to only have that effect on
people who had exhibitionist tendencies anyway, which was why they kept it
around- wasn’t strong enough to be creepy,
it just meant that sometimes your former rioters would end up fragging.
Nevertheless, they were not using
that on Spinflask, Primus no, that
felt downright perverted. Fortunately, they did have a vial of a different
mixture, mostly because it was a decent recreational drug and good for trading.

And, with his vents outright shrieking at the speed they
were reaching, it was a simple matter for Syringe to pull the vial out with a
spare servo and place a few drops near half-hidden vent inlets.

As intended, the drug worked quickly. Spinflask arched in
blatant alarm, trembling in one last, desperate attempt to get away, then went limp between them as the drug did its job and
cut off the adrenaline response that had been keeping him going.

Within a few kliks, Spinfoil went from a desperate bundle of
fury to a limp heap barely supported between the twins, optics unfocusing and
staring up at the sky. Seeming to give up, he stopped moving entirely and
curled into himself, and he didn’t respond to being released and allowed to
curl onto the ground.

…well. That had… worked?

Yes, it had worked, the intended effect had occurred, but…
ugh.

Duo made another face at each other, then sat down next to
Spinflask, needing a moment to rest after… that. Primus.

<Agreed. Next time
we find a mech chained to a lab table, we walk up slowly.>

<snk- agreed.>

Instead of turning their comforting urges against Spinflask,
who they were sure would object very strongly to being stroked, Duo pressed
together and hugged each other close. Burying their faces in each other’s
shoulders, they stayed still and silent, pulsing comfort/reassurance/understanding back and forth until they both
calmed down.

With their sparkrates back to normal and Spinflask showing
no signs of doing anything other than lying on the roof looking buzzed, the
twins uncurled and stood up, Scissors (cautiously) lifting the small mech with
them. “Easy, friend, apologies. Won’t hurt you- had to keep you from hurting us
or you, is all. Nothing bad, promise, is only a riot-calm mixture. See? Very
calm now.”

Maybe “calm” wasn’t the word so much as “drugged”, but… hey.
No more biting and screaming, at least, and Spinflask didn’t seem to be panicking internally.

Getting off the roof with a drugged Spinflask was easier
than getting onto the roof with a fighting Spinflask, but it still felt like
something that was illegal for very good reasons. Fortunately for them, they’d
brought a sled in case of larger found items, and Spinflask counted. He fit
onto the sled, and they were able to tuck a tarp over him to hopefully keep him
comfortable.

Just in case, Syringe walked alongside the sled as Scissors
hauled it, keeping an optic on the mech they’d found. It was unlikely that he
would suddenly snap awake and jump up, he seemed to be busy staring at the sky,
but being careful couldn’t hurt.

And it didn’t, though it turned out to be unneeded.
Spinflask, curled up under the tarp, stayed curled up until they got back to
the spot Duo had claimed. Somebody’s old bunker, long since cleaned out by
Insections, which had been easy to re-clear with a smoke grenade and some
repellant applied around the area. They’d added a very thick door, stocked the
bunker with plenty of metal-cutting supplies in case the door got stuck, and
rigged several booby traps containing various aerosol grenades that could repel
Insecticons or other predators.

Inside the bunker, they’d set up a comfortable
berth-slash-nest made of two berth pads placed against each other, heaped with
every soft, clean bit of fabric they’d been able to find. Syringe lifted a
chunk of padding off of it with a few blankets, and Scissors brought a folding
table over and down, the both of them quickly putting together something that
would lift Spinflask to a reasonable working height without looking or feeling
like a medbay berth. From there, they lifted him up and settled him onto the
table-slash-berth, covering the lower half of his frame with a blanket to make
this just a fraction less creepy. It… didn’t help that he was still limp and
incredibly compliant.

<Agreed, augh.>

Their mental correspondence stopped entirely as Spinflask
shifted. It wasn’t the movement that had their attention, though, not really-
more that they’d just gotten a look at his forearm. Someone had pried off the
plating over his wrist connectors, and… oh dear.

Syringe took Spinflask’s arm gently in two servos, lifting
it to settle it across his chassis where Scissors could see, the two of them
sharing a grim look at the sight. Whoever had removed the plating had evidently
tried to fit several plugs into ports that weren’t meant to take something that
large, and, judging by the scratches around the rims, weren’t even the sort of
cables designed to fit into wrist connection ports.

A thought hit the both of them, and, crooning quiet
reassurance as they did, Duo lifted Spinflask’s other arm to inspect the other
pieces of loosened plating. More marks, these from tools of some sort,
something like a tiny pry bar. An image of the tracks they’d found flashed
between both of them, and that- that seemed plausible, didn’t it? Organics
getting overly curious about Cybertronian anatomy, evidently not taking “no”
for an answer- those had been large
enough tracks, and Spinflask was on the smaller side.

Plating pried off, wrist paneling removed, ports forced open
around foreign plugs- ugh. Shudders. No wonder
Spinflask was so guarded! Couldn’t blame him. Made this feel nastier, but… he was looking at them, at least, watching
them with no signs of alarm.

Duo sat back and met each other’s optics, then both sighed
quietly and reached for their medkit stash, deciding to help as much as they
could while he was still relaxed. Even if it was artificial relaxation. All
that plating hanging half-off, they could fix that, couldn’t they? Could try
and work the ports back into shape, as well, get that panel back into place
rather than having it dangling askew like it was now.

That was the conclusion they came to, eventually, after a
good deal of fidgeting and uncomfortable stares. They had to help, this was
probably their best opportunity to help… uncomfortable as it felt.

The first thing to do was fix those strained ports, while
Spinflask was still dazed enough to, hopefully, not be frightened by the touch.
The calipers needed to be reset, so Syringe inspected the ports in question for
a moment, then sighed and pressed a fingertip against the wall of one. A slow,
firm stroke from the depths of the port to the rim spread the calipers a final
fraction, realigning them from where they’d been pushed askew, and they made a
series of tiny clicking noises as they reset to a neutral position. Easy enough
to do. Next, Syringe gathered up the loose connection cables, which had been
clumsily looped and tied around Spinflask’s wrist, and coiled then back into
where they were supposed to be.

He was about to work on fixing the panel, as well, but
Scissors cut him off with a flash over their link.

<concern/awareness/alert>

<Brother?>

<looking>

…oh. Oh dear. Yes, Spinflask was definitely looking at him.
Not just facing his direction, actually looking,
optics fixed as much as possible on his face.

<alarm/concern/worry>

<agreement/concern>

<what do we do>

<let me->

Scissors took Spinflask’s other servo, circling a fingertip
against his palm until he turned to look up at Scissors instead, and hummed
softly to the smaller mech. “Hello, friend. Is okay- not hurting you. See?
Putting everything back, and doing it now
while you stay calm. Very sorry about the drugs, friend- were afraid you
would hurt yourself or us. Thought it might help if no possible fear. This
okay?”

Spinflask was definitely watching them now, with as much
focus as a drugged mech could muster. Brow furrowed slightly, helm tilted a
fraction, optics focused on Scissors with clear attention. He didn’t look
frightened or angry, at least, just… a bit puzzled. As if he wasn’t certain
what was happening, or why.

Well. That was… not a positive reaction, no, definitely not,
but probably the closest to positive that they were going to get. Spinflask
seemed confused and at least somewhat interested, and that was all. Nothing
negative, not yet. He wasn’t afraid, at least, nor was he trying to murder
them.

Improvement!

Sort of!

That would work for now!

Duo shrugged at each other, broadcasting a certain level of
discomfort at the situation, then sighed and went back to work. They’d best
take advantage of Spinflask’s artificially imposed calm. “All right then,
friend- put your pieces all back on now, okay?”

Not okay, not really,
but- closest thing they could get at the moment. Hopefully it would calm
Spinflask down if he came to and found that his armor was all fastened back in
place instead of, ugh, hanging askew everywhere.

At least it didn’t seem to be any specific armor that had been pulled free. Tiny mercies.

Something else was odd, as well. This seemed to be a genetic
oddity, though. Spinflask’s silvery-white plating was oddly slick, and much of
it felt quite thin, especially around the edges. They’d seem something a bit
like this before- common in chemists. It wouldn’t support a vehicular alt mode,
though, so what was he?

They shouldn’t exactly have been doing it, but Duo paused in
their repair work (mostly trying to figure out what lined up where) to inspect
Spinflask’s frame. Gently enough, of course, but they looked him over as much
as possible without touching, then lightly touched what looked like a hatch in
his lower chassis. What was this? Almost looked like the door to an internal
symbiote dock, but symbiotes would be throwing a fit about this whole situation. Primus- did that mean the mech’s
symbiotes had been taken, or killed? That
would explain his reactions.

Duo made the bond-sensation equivalent of an apprehensive
face at each other, both eyeing the panel, and both reached for the panel at
the same time before hesitating.

<understood, but
need to find out>

<ugh,
apprehension/worry>

<agreed,
brother>

Another pause, then Syringe sighed and eased a fingertip
under the loose panel, lifting it just enough to see-

Oh, thank Primus, not
a symbiote dock.

Rather, a test tube rack, one sturdy enough to be-

Oh!

Not a rack, a centrifuge! That’s what that was! He was a
centrifuge!

They’d never met a centrifuge! A microscope, yes, more than
one, but not a centrifuge!

Cool!

Realizing that their fields were absolutely conveying their
interest, Duo lifted their winglets in a friendly manner, gently pressing the
panel back into place- no matter how much they wanted to see more. “Apologies,
checking for symbiote dock. Useful information. Interesting, though! Never met
centrifuge-alt mech, just microscopes. Used regular centrifuges, though. Hm- must
have impressive strut assembly to not shake apart, yes?”

“Quite. Hence the armor, as well- the- the slickness sheds
chemical spills easily.”

Spinflask still looked dazed, but having something to focus
on seemed to be helping him stay coherent, and he propped himself up just a
fraction to get a better look at what they were doing. “Or. Used to. Not…
properly aligned.”

Oh!

There he was!

Duo lifted their winglets further and grinned down at the
scientist, both of them gently easing his chassis plating further into place.
“Hello! Awake now, yes? No worries- fixing your plating for you. See? Not too
bad, just- ah, here, misaligned latch. Relax- back down, hold still.”

Scissors tucked a pillow behind Spinflask’s helm, and they
both gently pressed him down, coaxing him to lay back so they had a steady
surface to work on. “Calm, calm- breathe. Let us fix- see? Is okay. Just trying
to help, friend… easy.”

Thankfully, Spinflask still had nothing more negative than
confusion in his expression, so Duo continued their careful work at replacing
his plating. Nothing was too badly damaged, but most of the latches had been
wrenched open too wide as the plating was ripped off, keeping them from closing
properly and fastening shut. It was simple enough to grip the latches with
fingers or a set of tiny pliers and bend them back into place, and Spinflask
either didn’t mind the discomfort or was too high to feel it.

Going by his slightly more focused optics, it was the
former. Spinflask was definitely watching them, and he seemed to be processing
what was happening. Moreover, when he spoke, his voice was slow but stable.

“Pardon. What- what did you give me? I- I am feeling-“

Spinflask’s vocalizer clicked once or twice in evident
confusion, and he almost reached for
them, helm cocked and reattached plating starting to flare. “-this- this is-
I’m- oh.”

Slightly concerning. Duo cocked their helms in a silent echo
of him, winglets flicking slightly to the sides in a deliberately casual
motion. “Relatively unsuccessful variation on an anti-riot drug. Intended to
halt adrenal responses, induce calmness. Altered further due to inability to
disperse properly through large group. Harmless, no concern- won’t hurt you,”
they crooned, each petting one of Spinfoil’s servos, then paused and glanced at
each other before continuing. “Also made to induce desire for touch, contact-
furthers positive effects via endorphins. Apologies- thought this was best
suited to calm you. Ah… complaints about contact? Can lean against you somewhat
for work. No pressure, no motive, only want to help- if comfortable.”

Understandably, Spinflask eyed them with a degree of
suspicion at that, but the drugs apparently won over, as he nodded and reached
for them after a moment. Muttering “apologies again for drugs”, they pressed up
close on either side of him, their stomachs against his armor for him to feel
the warmth. Hopefully pleasant enough, especially since he didn’t have very
thick armor on most of his frame.

In fact, most of Spinfoil’s armor looked almost like the
thin plating that people would sometimes get as decorative pieces meant to
cover exposed muscle cables or other mechanisms. It definitely wasn’t, not
sharing the same odd, slick texture with the few thick pieces, but it was very
thin- some of it had even been crumpled slightly by what had apparently been
organic hands. The more durable pieces were along his shoulders and upper back,
including some that, hm, probably formed the lid of his alt, and the rest-

The rest was pretty. Smooth
white with tinges of silver, fitting together with minimal gaps along his
frame, especially along the front. He was almost wearing an apron, the armor
along his front flowing down to join skirting panels in a waterfall-like stream
of silvery-white, which actually made a lot of sense now. He was a chemist,
after all, born to be one, and born chemists often had built-in protection
against incidents. Duo had an unusual degree of acid resistance and a system
made to redirect unusual substances to be analyzed and used rather than merely
ingested, some others had thick shields or even plating that could be rapidly
shed if tainted, and Spinflask here had extremely slick armor with minimal gaps
along the front.

It was pretty! And presumably effective! Doubly good!

Oh- shoulder armor out of place, but awkward angle, probably
needed them both to maneuver it. Scissors leaned over Spinflask’s frame to
help, to pull the armor up to where it belonged-

And Spinflask jolted, tensed, hissed, and shrieked. His claws were too dulled to
do any damage, but he tried, clawing
at their armor in the few instants before they jerked back. Optics wild and
plating flared as much as possible with how loose most of it still was,
Spinflask scrambled onto the edge of the table, balancing there and striking
out at Duo with one servo whenever his swaying balance made it look like they
might be getting closer.

Duo, understandably, did not try to get closer. They went
with the initial impulse to retreat, slinking backward and partially under the
table, and leaned on each other in unease as Spinflask shrilled down at them.
Oh dear… what had they done this time?

<Brother- was doing
well, but- this?>

<too rough? No->

A pause, the two of them calling up an image of the scene
the instant before Spinflask had panicked, and even with the distraction of
Spinflask hissing at them it was easy to see what had gone wrong. They’d…
loomed a bit, hadn’t they?

<oh. Leaned.>

<concern/worry/sorrow>

<agreed>

<opposite.>

That seemed reasonable. Now, what was the opposite of
looming over someone?

A few quickly pinged mental images, then they glanced at
each other, nodded, crouched, and stretched out along the ground on either side
of the table.

This. This was the opposite. So… hopefully it would get the
opposite response? Or at least calm Spinflask slightly, let the adrenaline wear
off- because this must be an adrenal
reaction! Something going wrong, somewhere, that magnified the effect from
merely a jolt of energy to this. Because
this wasn’t a normal level of response, and it wasn’t a normal type of response, either. Mechs like
Spinflask, with no integrated weapons and a frametype designed for nonviolent
work, didn’t attack like this when
frightened.

There were exceptions, of course, but this wasn’t just
lashing out- this was a violent, prolonged response, the “fight” in
fight-or-flight taken to the extreme. For Primus’ sake, the mech had tried to stab them with a sharpened piece of his
own arm plating! That wasn’t how mechs like Spinfoil usually responded, he was-
he was a nerd. Like them. They didn’t
attack people, even when upset, they got out of the way and retaliated from
safety. This had to be an overblown adrenal response, it all made sense.

Hopefully their approach would help calm that down. Field
flaring and pressing friendliness/reassurance/security
against the indistinct stabs of Spinflask’s anger/threat/anger, they chirped up at him in a friendly manner,
offering little smiles carefully adjusted not to show their fangs. “Spinflask,
hello- easy, friend, calm. Not going to hurt you- sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to
startle. Is okay- shh, friend. Calm, lay back down… too unsteady for that,
might fall.”

Much to their relief, it worked. Without anything to keep
him going, Spinflask swayed, whined quietly, started to relax-

And, whoops, fell over the edge of the berth-

Right into at least six servos.

Duo weren’t about to just let him fall like that! Friendly
field wrapping around Spinflask, they gathered him up in both sets of arms,
crooning reassurance to the small mech as he went limp between them. Too tired,
looked like, and no wonder. Cold, too, starting to shiver. Oh, poor mech-

Berth time. No more putting him on a table, he was joining
them in their nest. That was a bit awkward to manage without looming over him
again, but they managed to curl up on either side of Spinflask, placing him on
top of a thick blanket where he could easily be reached for the rest of the
needed repairs.

There was a confused expression being aimed at them, once
again, but Spinflask looked too tired to
be anything other than sleepily baffled. Most likely that was due to him having
spent his last bits of energy on an extremely aggressive, drawn-out startle
response.

Probably not much point in it, but Scissors tried to meet
Spinflask’s optics, speaking quietly to him to explain what was going on. If he
could understand it, at least. “Hello, Spinflask- this better? Apologies for
startle. Going to rest here for now, sit, slowly continue repairs. Also, keep
you warm- too cold. Probably need more energy- here, drink. Energon processed
from dead animals, but safe- sterilized and filtered.”

People sometimes made a bit of a face at being offered a
cube of energon taken from an animal. Not unreasonable!

But people didn’t usually turn away, cover the mask over
their mouth, and mutter “don’t want it”.
Especially not when they were clearly low enough on energy for such a refusal
to be dangerous. Baffled, Scissors cast a glance over at Syringe, then crouched
and attempted to meet Spinflask’s optics. “Hey- need fuel! Is okay, safe to
drink, just… drink, please?” he crooned, holding the cube just in front of the
scientist’s optics, and purred gently down at him in hopes of coaxing him into
taking the cube.

Spinflask wanted the
energon, clearly. His fuel pump made an audible grinding sound as it tried to
start up, the mask covering the lower half of his face retracted, and his field
pulsed hunger/want/need, but he didn’t
try to take it. Instead, he twisted away from the cube, growling “haven’t earned it”, and pushed his face into-
well, he probably meant to hide in the blankets, but he ended up with his face
in Syringe’s chassis.

…well then.

Syringe instinctively curled around Spinflask in response,
used to it being his twin pressing into him like that, and shared a confused
look with Scissors. That was, uh… something,
and… not necessarily a surprise. Duo were familiar with the “you haven’t
earned this yet” attitude, it wasn’t a shock to hear that Spinflask had also
been subjected to it. What was surprising,
though, was him seeming to agree.

They weren’t going to stand for that.

No question, no hesitation, no consideration, just outrage. They would not stand for that. Scissors mimicked Syringe’s action, pressing
gently to Spinflask’s back, and stroked a servo over his arm in hopes of
calming him and coaxing the servo off his face. “Oh, shh. Living being, yes?
Then earned enough fuel to not die. No price, just drink, please? Come, Spinflask…”

There was no objection to their touch, so Scissors carefully
stroked trembling silver-white fingers out of the way, growing bold enough to
brush two fingertips over Spinflask’s cheek. “Drink?”

Spinflask’s response was a soft, needy whine, a pleading sound, but he still made no move to accept
the energon. He wanted to, clearly, he was hungry,
but his resolve was firm enough that he stayed perfectly still despite
that. Even as Scissors petted his cheek again with one servo and cupped another
other servo under his helm.

They had an idea. Scissors trapped Spinflask’s helm as
gently as possible, Syringe casually brushed a servo over his optics for long
enough to hide them, and Scissors tipped the cube- spilling a few drops of the
energon against Spinflask’s lips. Whatever his mind thought, Spinflask’s frame
was starving, and they needed to get energon into him. This was less likely to
injure him than an IV. Granted, his mind might not much like them taking
advantage of instinct, but those violent adrenaline reactions meant he needed
to be fueled or he was going to pass out halfway through the next one. And who
knew what it would do to him if he passed out in the middle of another
violence-toned panic attack! They certainly didn’t know. Probably something
bad. So… this.

A moment of nothing, then Spinflask licked his lips,
seemingly a subconscious motion. Another few drops, another lick, a few more
drops-

And Spinflask moved, jolting
against their servos, practically launching himself up to grab at the cube. Duo
let him, and he gripped it in both trembling servos, only managing to keep it
in his grip and himself upright thanks to their steadying servos. All reluctance gone, he gulped at the
energon with desperate hunger, his mismatched plating fluffing against their
servos as he drank deeply.

The cube was far more than his small tank could manage, but
Spinflask did his best to drink the entire thing, stopping only when he
physically couldn’t swallow any more. Gasping softly, he lowered the cube,
still holding tightly to it, and slumped back against Syringe’s frame where he’d
been curled up before. His vents were running low to save energy, so he had to
gasp a few times to properly get them started again, and he made no effort to
lean away from any of the contacts.

And there were a lot of contacts, not least because Duo gave
in to the impulse to brush away the energon that dripped from the corners of
his mouth as he gasped for air. They couldn’t help it- soft, silver-white
cheeks, pretty faceplates, little mech all mussed up- who wouldn’t try to put
him back in order, especially when it meant stroking?

He didn’t seem to mind, at least. His optics were focused on
them, he seemed aware of what was happening, and he wasn’t pulling away. Those
were all good signs. Either he liked this or he didn’t mind it, and both of
those things would work for now.

Hopefully not showing his dentae too much, Scissors offered Spinflask a pleased grin, unwinding
himself slightly from where he’d braced himself against the smaller mech. “There-
see? Better? Now- relax again, relax, fix your plating for you. Stretch out,
hm? Reach your back.”

A slow blink, then another, then Spinflask nodded and
stretched out on his front. Setting the cube aside, he gripped the blankets in
both servos and kneaded lightly, glancing over his shoulder now and then to
watch them work.

After a klik or two
of silence, he tilted his helm further and lifted his winglets a fraction,
looking considerably more lucid than before. “That was… odd. I… I’m sorry,
what- what happened? I… seem to have something of a void in my memory, but, clearly, something happened.”

That… that was going to be one Pit of an explanation.

Duo aimed an apprehensive look at each other, then sighed,
shook their helms, and went with the truth. “Would appear you have an adrenal
overreaction. Frame responds to startles with aggression.
Fight-flight-or-freeze response, yes? You have permanent fight. With sprinkling of
attempted murder.”

Oops, Pit, he was looking guilty. Field softening
considerably and thrumming reassurance/apology
with an accidental-but-distinct undercurrent of affection for the poor, worried little mech, Duo crooned and petted
Spinflask’s shoulders until he started to relax, offering a vocal purr along
with the purr in their fields. “No, no- is fine, easy. Didn’t hurt us, and
reaction is fine. Calmed down now, see? Just… fix all your plating, then we sit
nice and quiet, let adrenaline calm down.”

Spinflask blinked a few times, slowly, looking down at his
scuffed-up servos and dulled clawtips.
He’d never had long claws, clearly, but he ordinarily had sharp tips to his
fingers that could work as claws. They… weren’t really claws any more, though,
he’d worn them down against the floor.

“…oh. Well, that… that might explain the… gaps in my memory
lately. Some… rats, I think, kept trying to figure out if I was edible. I must
not have reacted well. My- my sincerest apologies for the… attempted murder, I-
you seem harm-harmless enough. More- more than that, actually, you- I- thank
you, I don’t- I don’t deserve- Prim-Primus,
I-“

Shoulders heaving, Spinflask hunched into himself, starting
to curl into a shaking ball- and squeaked as the twins abruptly pressed up on either
side of him. He didn’t panic this time, though, just made a few soft noises of
confusion and gently pawed at their plating in bewilderment. “I- pardon? What- what
are you- ah- I- oh. Oh dear. I-
goodness, I-I- oh-“

Gradually, Spinflask went still and leaned his helm against
Scissors, vents cycling in an odd, hiccupping pattern somewhere near a sob. He
wasn’t crying, but he was close, servos
skidding against silver-and-green plating as he was gently pressed between two
narrow frames.

Oh, oh- poor mech, but, there, that wasn’t a surprise. Duo
cooed gently down at Spinflask, bundling him up in a thick blanket, and leaned
back into their nest with another blanket pulled over all three of them. “There,
there, shh- is okay, sweetie, relax. Vent… there. Is okay, okay- cry, is fine,
let emotions out, just relax. Got you, Spinflask, okay? No danger, nothing
else, just us. Relax, vent, eventually recharge… fix your plating now, feel
better later, maybe try alt mode? Don’t know if… hm.”

A pause, a glance at each other, then the twins attempted to
meet Spinflask’s optics. “Immobile alts- fidgety or no at not transforming?
Never tried- mobile alts. Very mobile. Fidgety frames.”

No response.

Right, he was too busy not-quite-crying. Oh well- they could
ask later. Right now, they’d just snuggle him. Seemed to be… good? He wasn’t
wiggling away, at least, was mostly relaxed, and-

Oh!

Duo stilled as Spinflask pushed his face into Scissors’
chassis, clearly on purpose, then the twins cooed
and curled around him to hold him close.

Aw!

Cute!

A bit sad, but cute!

Spinflask gradually went limp in Duo’s arms, wrapped up in
blankets and scientists, still baffled but calmed by the sensation of gentle
servos replacing the plating all down his back. An unusual number of servos, to
say the least, but the touches were soft and the work was good. Even if it came
with some extra petting to various innocent places.

Eventually, the twins had gotten all of Spinflask’s plating
back on, but he was too asleep to notice.

He’d probably notice when he woke up.

Though that might take awhile.

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