I'm your patient
The medical officers examined him time and time again and different results popped up every time. Either the subject was having fun with them or he really was insane. The question continued to hang in the air as doctors read and re-read the reports, he was volatile that was a well-known fact, and he was unpredictable which was-again-a well-known fact. But one thing still remained to be answered, could he function in society?
He had proven over and over again that he was capable of killing without remorse and the therapists that were brave enough to see him were nearly killed or maimed. He didn't like them, "They pissed me off the wrong way," he had said, over and over until the officers finally got the point.
They were at their wits end with this youngling, he didn't cooperate like they had so desperately hoped-even prayed for- and still: nothing but failed experiments. One fact still hung though, one fact that they kept coming back to.
He was traumatized. His own father had butchered him. He disconnected his helm and in place of the old one was one with a single optic. It tended to scare most of the nurses, and even frightened the doctors, but that was nothing compared to his…pincers. They had the appearance of being almost comical, until he got angry. They were tended to be used as meat hooks; strewing up dead carcasses like party decorations.
He was difficult, rowdy, unpredictable, and most of all, dangerous. He was also, very, very, very talkative. He was Whirl and he was most likely there to stay.
"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
Edgar Allan Poe
He was practically dragged out of his recharge. The warm slab of metal below him was warm with fluid.
"What?" a voice had said above him.
"What?" the youngling had asked the voice. The child looked around, desperate for a face to pair with the haunting lilt that floated through the air.
"Don't you like your new face darling?" The voice said a monstrous face leering over him.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" Whirl flew up expecting whirring blades and hacksaws ready to take the rest of his limbs away. His single golden optic darted around the room for intruders and evil doctors. Nothing.
Looks like he was up earlier than the ward had him scheduled to; he vented hot steam from his systems and searched his data banks for any reminders, just as empty as his room. He groaned and swung his thin lanky legs over his berth and slinked to his dresser compartment.
"Well I'm not any uglier, that's a start." Whirl shrugged as he looked at himself in his mirror. He dug out his polish and got to work, if his warden had a surprise visit for him then he would need to be ready ahead of time. He didn't want to be nagged and bombarded with other servos trying to touch him. He always had to go through a chemical wash if he was too dirty. He always hated those things, not that he liked being covered in grime, because he didn't, he just hated when people touched him.
"There, nice and pretty." He mumbled to himself, trying to bite back a manic giggle. A knock on his berthroom door jerked him from his glee abruptly, it was harsh and loud like the owners voice.
"Whirl? You'd better be decent in there cause I'm comin' in!" ah Fort-Max, such a pleasure.
"Oh, please, if you're trying to threaten me it's not working." Whirl said as Max practically busted through the door. He looked around at the little stand in workshop. All of the tables and counter were filled with half-finished projects and blue prints. The shelves were lined with clocks and other old mechanisms, decorative gears hung on the walls as a sort of thrown together art work.
"Have you ever thought about cleaning up the place?" Max asked as his optics fell on Whirl, who was currently leaning on his dresser unit idly waiting to be escorted to Primus knows where.
"For who? You?" Whirl said optic narrowing in what appeared to be sarcasm, though his voice held enough of that. Max shrugged and waved him along, not wanting his…guest so to speak to wait.
"So whose here to probe my processor today? College graduate? Experts who think they know everything? Or are you finally off-lining me for the greater good?" Whirl bombarded Max all the way to the "Healing room" they called it that to relax the patients. Whirl didn't really care for people asking him about his violent tendencies, in his opinion he thought it wasn't their right to prod another bots processor like it was a science experiment. Then again it wasn't right to kidnap mechs, torture them, and hang their dead bodies up like party streamers either. Whirl want innocent, not by a long shot and he was more than willing to prove it to every doctor who thought he was as simple as insanity had made him out to be. Oh, but he was so much more, he was like a clock. Gears and wires and cogs too complicated to examine and far too…exquisite to take apart. At least in his mind that was what he had deemed himself, an expensive, well oiled, clock.
Whirl chuckled to himself at the thought, barely even noticing all of the looks passing strangers had given him. The large cold hallway he was walking in was far from nice. As a matter fact it could use some organic fur rugs and maybe a few dashes of that warm red stuff that came out of those fleshy creatures when they were split open. Whirl had thought if the fleshlings were bigger, then they would be more fun to off-line, then again how would he know? He'd never killed one before. The abrupt stop of Max had startled Whirl, as he bumped into him head on.
"Hey, what gives?" Whirl asked as he rubbed his helm, looking up at Max questionably.
"We're here." He said so bluntly it made Whirl half lid his optic, the look he usually gave Max when he wasn't being specific enough. Max punched in the codes for the security locks and firewalls, not a moment later the door shifted open with a ding. The little office was cute, to be literal. Behind a green tinted glass desk, a scrawny little bot sat. Orange and light peach painted his skinny frame and glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose. He smiled as the two entered and Whirl almost wanted to rip it off of his face, he seemed nice. Too nice…
"Hello, you must be the infamous Whirl I've been hearing about." He said lacing his fingers together, oh, now there was something Whirl had liked. They were slender and delicate looking compared to his monstrous pincers.
"Max thank-you for bringing him thus far, if you could give us a bit of privacy, I would greatly appreciate it." The doctor said politely a feint British accent coming out. Max flinched and looked at the doctor as if he had a second head.
"Doctor, with all due respect, Whirl is crazy as hell, he could hurt you." Max said eyeing Whirl as he made himself comfortable on the plush therapeutic couch.
"And With all due respect to you Fortress, I am perfectly capable of calling for help when needed, and really," the doctor looked to Whirl who was idly sitting on the couch watching them with and intent look in his optic, "he's right there." Whirl waved a claw and hooked it together with his other, then perched his helm on them.
"Oh…alright fine, I allow it. I'll be right outside if you need me. Whirl, don't do anything stupid, please." Max turned to Whirl who sat and watched their conversation like day time holo-vids.
"Will do, Captain." Whirl puffed his chassis out and saluted Max. Max shook his helm and pinched the bridge of nose like he was about to break down as he walked out of the room dejectedly.
"So, I've read your report, and I'll have to say it was quite…extensive." The doctor said scrolling through a data pad; he caught himself as if he had just remembered something. "My name is Rung by the way; you can just call me that if you like. I don't really see much of a point in being formal."
"Sure, whatever Doc." Whirl said folding his claws behind his helm as he lied back on the couch. Rung gave him a bit of a look, but was quickly discarded. He had forgotten that this patient was rather young; he must just be giving him that as a nick-name or something. Whirl was certainly a peculiar person, he had never heard of someone with only one optic. He jotted something down on his note pad and turned to Whirl again.
"So, Whirl what would you like to tell me about yourself? Any hobbies?" Rung tilted his helm in a manner that made Whirl want to rip it from his shoulders, but he held back the notion.
"I tend to dabble in mechanics, believe it or not I like clocks." Whirl stated dropping one servo to the floor with an audible plink. Rung made a sound and scribbled down on his little note pad.
"Interesting, I collect model ships. As a matter of fact I have one with me right now." Rung delved into his pack the he stored most of his items, and after a few moments, tada! I little gold ship was brought out in Rungs gentle little servos. Whirl had to find some way of touching them they were so tiny and fragile looking.
"I'm taking to get it repaired though, you see," he turned it over on its back and showed the snapped plating, "It's supposed to fly around and as of yesterday, it just snapped right off when I was cleaning it." Whirl eyed the little machine. It looked to be fixable by hand, and wouldn't take long at all to have him look at it.
"Are you paying for this? The repair I mean." Whirl asked sitting up claws snapping out of tendency, he didn't know why they did that, but when he was the least bit of excited he just couldn't stop it. Rung looked at him with a peculiar expression.
"Well, yes, but it's no trouble really." Rung gave a soft chuckle, Whirl had almost pounced on him right then and there, but he held himself back. Whirl hadn't the slightest but somehow Rung seemed, real. He couldn't place his pincer on it, but no matter how bad the urge got he always dismissed it as soon as it popped up.
"Then let me have a look at it, don't worry I won't break your little toy. I can be gentle when I want." He held out his claws to take the little toy ship; at first Rung was hesitant. Finally after what seemed like an eternity of contemplation and constant tapping on his jaw, Rung came over and sat beside Whirl to watch him work on the model.
"Don't worry you won't need to help much," Whirl said as he turned the toy in his claws, the fine sharp tips of them grazing the injured spot. He pulled off the plate and examined what was underneath. Mostly bundles of wire and cable, but something else caught his optic, I little piece of rubble had been lodged in there and disrupted the flow of electricity. Whirl carefully dug it out with upmost care, with Rung leaning in like that; he needed all the self-control he could muster. The flow needed a little boost to start back up and Whirl new exactly what to use.
"Hey Doc, scoot over a bit I need my other arm." Whirl said looking to said bot. Rung stammered an apology and leaned away from him, he still watched intently as Whirl hummed and quickly made a small cut on his arm. Energon had enough electrical build in it to work as a lubricant seal for the energy to bridge over. Whirl dug the tip in and smeared the newly spilt energon onto the spot where the clump of rock had been.
"There, should work now, try it." Whirl handed Rung his model back and waited for the doctor give it a spin. Rung pressed a little button on the side, and the toy buzzed to live and whirred around the room.
"Thank-you, you certainly saved me some credits." Rung said as he and Whirl's optics fallowed the devise as it buzzed around the room. Whirl shrugged, if he had the right equipment he could have made the fix more stable, but this would have to do.
"Meh, I could have done better, but whatever." Whirl said leaning on his elbows.
"Well, now that we have that out of the way, tell me about yourself Whirl." Rung took a seat atop his desk and made himself comfortable he glanced at his patient and found him pacing like a caged animal. Whirl would have gladly told him that he didn't want to talk about his dismemberment at the hands of his creator, not that he could blame the doctor for being curious, it is his job after all to pry. Although the fact that the institution was so hell bent on getting in his processor worried him, surely he wasn't so interesting they would blatantly throw earning down the drain to pry his mind open. He knew he was supposed to be the psychotic one, given his relationship with the institution, but really. Did they ever give up? Lose interest? Get bored?
"Huh? Oh I guess I like clocks." Whirl mumbled under an ex-vent. Rung nodded and surprisingly didn't jot anything down on his little note pad. Hung tilted his helm to the side.
"I believe you have just told me that, before you fixed my model." Whirl stopped and pondered the moment; yes he did already say that, he was more than well aware. But how in the pit did he repeat himself? He never repeated himself, well unless he had to. But that wasn't the point. The point was that what else was he supposed to say? He had an affinity for dismembering dead bodies? How was he supposed to word that to where it didn't make him look like the monster his father turned him in to?
"Yeah, but…I don't know…I have other hobbies, but they're less…innocent than yours." Whirl finally said as he sat back down. He didn't like talking about his father's studies and experiments any more than he'd like to; though it's not like life had given him a choice on the matter. He was stuck this way no matter what he did. Once it was done, then there was no turning back.
"Hmm, then if you wouldn't mind of course I'd like to get down to business if you don't mind." Rung finally stated as hopped down from the seat on his desk and made his way over to Whirl.
"What did your father do to you?" Rung asked sounding fairly…strange. The blind nativity that Whirl had thought he saw earlier was now replaced by something else. Rung was still trying his best to sound 'down to it' as one would put it.
"He did a lot of things to me, and before you ask me my deepest darkest secrets, I want some of yours." Whirl said dead panning his voice for effect. Rung raised his adorably annoying eye brows in shock.
"Well…I suppose I could tell you something…hmm let's see…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, I know, once when I was a sparkling my carrier dropped me on my helm and they thought I had some extreme beyond repair processor damage or something, as it turned out I did have a small bit, so they took me to a specialist. After that they left me alone with the doctor and…well lets just say I didn't get a proper treatment."
The two sat in silence for a while, Rung looking down in the servos that rested in his lap and Whirl with a seemingly expressionless stare.
"My father lobotomized me when I was still a sparkling…I nearly lost all sight." Whirl said in a kind of dead, zombie voice.
"Then he performed Empurata on me and…I was so close to death I could've sworn I tasted it. Then I woke up and found myself in an emergency room. I couldn't-still can't- feel my hands. It's so painful. Sometimes I find myself awake at night wishing the paramedics didn't save me. This is a fate worse than death." Whirls sharp claw came up to his throat and kneaded the soft scar tissue there. Before Rung knew it his claw plunged in and the world went black with screaming.