Title:I just killed this guy because he was there and you weren't and I was bored!
Continuity: G1 [part of ultharkitty's Dysfunction AU, pre-war, Kaon]
Warnings: gen, implied violence and rape and STD of some sort
Characters: Blast Off, Vortex
Rating: PG-13 for implied violence and rape
Summary: Just what it says in the title. ;)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty :D
Note: Many thanks to ultharkitty who came up with the line that is the title. ;) I don't know the context anymore, but I read it and was like "OMG; this needs fic!" I hope you enjoy it. ;)
I just killed this guy because he was there and you weren't and I was bored!
Blast Off entered the apartment building, skimming over a datapad containing recent news from Altihex. He arrived at a section about new science projects when someone addressed him.
"Blast Off, right?"
The shuttle looked up from his datapad at a familiar small grounder. It was the building's night watch.
Blast Off's apartment was in one of the very few better areas of Kaon. The service offered by the company that rented out those apartments was guarded buildings. Blast Off felt safer that way, considering for whom he worked and what kind of city Koan was.
It was the first time, though, the operative had talked to him.
"Yes?" he asked, and he would have sounded confused if the mech had known him well.
"Uh, there was a security issue with your apartment. Someone tried to break in. I detained him. He's in the office."
Blast Off just stared. When he replied, his voice was condescending. "Why didn't you call the police?"
"Sir, he said, he… Uh, he works for Onslaught. And he wanted to talk to you, Sir."
The insecurity of the guard was audible even for Blast Off. Onslaught had a reputation, and the mech was probably afraid to lose his job, or even his life, if he got in the way of Onslaught's business. He couldn't know that Blast Off worked for the ex-soldier as well. He sighed tiredly. "Let me guess, it's a rotary?"
"Yes, Sir, he is. Uh, please, follow me." The mech turned, and went into a direction of a door labelled 'Employees Only'.
The shuttle deactivated the datapad, and rubbed his temple with two fingers as he walked behind the smaller mech. He could only guess what Vortex wanted from him, but whatever it was, he'd send him away. Blast Off was on vacation, sort of. He'd had the last three cycles off, and would only be back at HQ in another six. Almost a full decaycycle, and he'd intended to visit Altihex tomorrow. If the 'copter interfered with that plan, he was going to regret it.
The guard led Blast Off to a door, and stopped in front of it. "He's in there."
It was hard to resist spitting "you don't say", but Blast Off managed, if only just. He huffed, shaking his head in annoyance, and pushed the button.
When the door slid open, Blast Off understood why the guard didn't call the police instantly. While Onslaught's reputation was probably a big part of that, Vortex' appearance only emphasised the need to be careful.
"What are you doing here?" Blast Off asked, and stepped in. The door closed behind him, and left the room in a dim light.
Energon sparkled on Vortex' frame - energon that was most likely not his own. The 'copter lay with his back on the table, legs and arms dangling down. The red visor was fixed on the ceiling light, and he appeared tired - or something. Blast Off didn't know, and he didn't want to know.
Even at the question, the 'copter didn't look at Blast Off, and he frowned. Coming closer, the shuttle stood only one step away from the other, arms crossed. "What are you doing here?" he asked again, and revved his engine to a growl.
That got him Vortex' attention.
"What took you so long?" Vortex whined, and turned his head to look at Blast Off.
"Excuse me?" The other's impudence only made Blast Off angrier. "I've heard you tried to break into my apartment. Again. Be glad the guard didn't call the police. And what have you done to look like this?"
"I sent you a comm." It was an unrelated answer. At least it didn't make much sense to Blast Off. Something was seriously odd about this. "I don't feel so good."
"If you feel sick, go to a medic!" The shuttle was about to turn when Vortex whimpered, then whined anew.
"It's your fault. I don't wanna go to a medic!"
This became more ridiculous by the astrosecond. "My fault? What the frag?"
"I sent you a comm, and you didn't show up."
Now Blast Off knew what this was about. On his second day off, he'd got a comm message from the 'copter about meeting him today. But the shuttle was off duty, and hadn't answered. He wasn't interested in anything work related, or worse, spending his time off with Vortex.
"I'm on holiday," Blast Off replied shortly. For him, that was reason enough.
"But you didn't show up, and it's your fault now."
No, this didn't make any sense at all. Before Blast Off could comment on this nonsense, Vortex continued, crossing his arms as well, showing off the energon on his claws.
"I just killed this guy because he was there and you weren't and I was bored!"
Blast Off's optics flickered, and he tensed. His only concern was that Vortex couldn't have restrained himself and murdered someone. It wasn't so much about someone being killed, Blast Off didn't care, he was more worried about where it'd happened and if they could trace it back to Vortex - and Blast Off.
"Where?" the shuttle asked; it earned him a shrug, and red optics rebooted behind the visor.
"In that small alley. Near the bar you don't like. He won't be missed. And he won't be found…"
"How do you know?" the shuttle's question was not about the being found part. He knew the 'copter could take good care of that. But if someone was looking for a missing mech, they would look closer.
"He was a drug addict." Vortex' mutter was almost inaudible when the red visor went off for a moment, but then flickered back online.
Blast Off had no time to ask how Vortex could be sure about that, because the 'copter continued. "I got some virus from him. It's all your fault."
"Vector Sigma…" Blast Off rubbed his forehead, and vented air deeply. A virus. Well, this explained Vortex' weird behaviour - weirder behaviour. "It's not my fault, and it's not my business. If you have a virus, go see a medic." With that, Blast Off turned and opened the door again.
"No. Hey, don't go."
Blast Off heard Vortex sit up and intakes hitching.
"Get him a taxi," Blast Off muttered to the night watch, who nodded quickly. The mech then jumped back, out of the way when Vortex hurried out of the room, and clung to Blast Off's arm. The red visor lit up in what the shuttle knew was amusement.
"But I do love you!"
The shuttle's optics flickered in confusion, and so did the guard's.
"You can't leave me like that!" Vortex continued, theatrically, causing Blast Off to wince, and to tense even more. What the pit?
The judgmental expression on the night watch's face made the shuttle even angrier, and it was clear why Vortex acted like this. He doubted the 'copter would act as mentally incompetent if he hadn't got that virus, and this was the only reason not to knock him offline. It was so very hard to resist slapping Vortex over the head.
"Sir?" the guard asked, as though no knowing what to do.
Blast Off's engine revved again, and he grabbed Vortex by the upper arm, tightly. "I'll take care of him." Without any more words, he walked back to the entry hall, quickly and not caring if Vortex could keep up. Dragging the 'copter behind him, he hoped he'd keep quiet.
Fortunately, Vortex did.
When they reached Blast Off's apartment, Vortex leant against the wall next to the door, giggling, and his head rolled weirdly.
"What was that?" Blast Off spat, hands clenching to fists.
"Hehehehe… did you see his face? That was awesome. Remind me to do that with Brawl someday." More snickering, then the 'copter's voice changed back to that theatrically tone from before. "But you can't leave me alone!" Vortex said, and began laughing loudly.
Blast Off gave in to his urge. He lashed out, his fist hitting Vortex' battle mask, and flung the 'copter to the ground.
"You are an annoyance." Glaring down, Blast Off watched the grey mech curling up on the floor. There was no response, merely more whining noises, and Vortex shuddering. The whole frame did, except for the rotor blades, and Blast Off was content to see it. At least Vortex wasn't enjoying himself.
"I'll call Onslaught!" Blast Off said, and turned. He'd almost missed the 'copter's protest.
"No, don't, please." The last word made Blast Off looking back at Vortex again. He frowned, but didn't comment yet.
"Ons doesn't know. He kinda doesn't want me to do solo tours for a while…" The 'copter's voice was strained when he tried to sit up again. Sitting there, shoulders slumped, he appeared worn out. "Thrusters, please, he mustn't know…"
This situation got better and better, Blast Off mused bitterly, and crossed his arms. Now he knew the reason why Vortex hadn't gone back to HQ to see a medic. "Serves you right," Blast Off shrugged. "Connecting to random people on the street. I really can't say you don't deserve it."
"But you weren't there…" Vortex pouted, staring with dim visor at the ground. It looked rather bizarre with all the energon on the grey frame from what had probably been torture.
Blast Off shook his head once more. "You owe me. A favour of my choice whenever I call for it. Got it?"
Vortex glanced up, and nodded.
"Get on the couch."
Heaving air through his vents, Blast Off went to a small storage room where he had his energon and different devices. He knew he did have some analysing device for scanning software for malfunctions or viruses. Blast Off had hardly used it, because his own system checks were quite elaborate, but he sometimes let it run a scan when he was in recharge.
Blast Off watched Vortex struggle to come to his feet and walk to the sofa. He seemed disorientated, but the shuttle didn't feel sorry.
Vortex lay down on his front, legs on the couch and one arm dangling down while fingers traced lazy circles on the floor. "What are you doing?" the 'copter asked.
"Be quiet." Blast Off switched the setting on the device to default, a setting that scanned only the standard programming most builds possessed. The shuttle had never bothered to program other builds into this, not when he hardly used it himself.
"Open your data transfer port," Blast Off demanded, and waited for the small hatch on the wrist to open.
"Hold still." He plugged the device in, and started the scan.
Vortex's frame shivered once, but the rotors were rigid.
Leaning back in his chair, Blast Off took out his datapad again, and waited. He scrolled to the line where he'd left of reading.
Only two kliks passed before Vortex broke the silence. His voice was staticky, with an edge of discomfort that even Blast Off could make out.
"How long will it take?"
Blast Off shrugged with one shoulder. "Two breems, probably more."
"You won't tell Ons, right?"
"That depends."
They were quiet again. For a moment.
"On what?" Vortex asked, with a tone Blast Off couldn't interpret.
"On if the device can identify the virus, and I have a solution for it."
"And if not?"
"Then you still owe me a favour, and I'll bring you to a medic."
At that, Vortex whined and buried his face in the couch. "I'm hot…"
Blast Off glanced up. "Uh-huh."
"No, really. I'm hot…"
Vector Sigma, the 'copter was annoying when he was unwell. Blast Off decided not to react any more.
"Will you frag me?"
There was no way not to react to that question, however. The shuttle vented a huff, and in his most condescending tone, he replied. "You have a contagious virus circulating in for processor. I most certainly won't interface with you."
Another whimper, and Blast Off again had the need to punch the 'copter.
It took the device 3.94 breems to identify the virus. The display showed a bunch of useless information, but also advice on how to deal with the. It seemed Vortex really had killed a drug addict, because the code was a stimulant. Only it wasn't complete, and parts of it were missing, and that was the reason why Vortex felt so bad. Again, Blast Off thought the 'copter deserved it. Probably the process of killing the mech while being connected to him had altered the lines of the virus.
The shuttle shook his head, unplugged the device, and said coldly, "You'll be fine. In a few joors, your system should have dealt with the remainder of the code. Now leave."
The 'copter didn't move.
"Vortex!" Blast Off growled in a more resolute voice, and at least it made the other turn his head.
"I can't. Ain't feeling good…"
The shuttle stared. His hands were fists again, clenching. It took a lot of his will power not to just throw the mech out into the hallway. Blast Off didn't care what happened to the 'copter, but he wasn't fond of the night watch mech maybe calling the police. Not because Vortex tried to break into his apartment, but because he'd left a seemingly helpless mech covered in energon on the floor.
"You're an annoyance," Blast Off repeated his words from before. "Stay on the couch. I'll leave tomorrow for Altihex, if you don't feel better and can't move again before then, I'll drop you off at HQ. Did you understand?"
"Uhu…" Vortex nodded.
"Sigma," Blast Off mumbled once more, and stood up. He put the device back, and went into the bedroom. Maybe now he'd have some time to read from his datapad.
Blast Off was almost in recharge when his systems stirred online again at a sudden sound. The soft noise of a door sliding open, and metal feet shuffling over the floor.
"Blast Off? You're awake?"
Blast Off decided to ignore the question. Vortex' voice still sounded stressed, now even more so, but maybe if he pretended to be in recharge already, the 'copter would leave again.
The door slid shut, but the sound of feet was still in the room and gave away that Vortex approached the berth.
Wonderful, Blast Off thought, but still didn't move.
"Thrusters?"
The other's tone was really odd. It was probably the effect of the virus. Who knew what it did to Vortex' already glitching processor.
Nothing else was said, but Vortex lay down next to Blast Off. The shuttle sensed it on the movement of the berth, and the rustling of the soft covering. Activating his scanners so as not to online his optics, Blast Off knew the 'copter lay close to the edge. The unusually warm gusts of air of the other's vents blew over Blast Off's arm and side, and he tensed.
Without saying anything, Blast Off rolled to his side, his with the heat resistant tiles of his back facing the 'copter. Like this he didn't feel the other's vented air. He also made more room for Vortex, and the 'copter shuffled closer.
After tonight, Blast Off wouldn't have to deal with Vortex for another six cycles. He looked forward to it.
Vortex whimpered, and shuffled again. He didn't touch Blast Off, though. At least there was that.
It was bearable.