Title: Quality of Life
Author: Kyotoagnes
Pairing: none so far
Summary: It wasn't the crashes Red Alert dreaded it was the question that came afterward.
Rating: K
Warnings: AU, Frankensteined combo of G1 and Bay Verse, possibly disturbing imagery.
Word Count: God knows
Transformers belongs to Hasboro /Dreamworks /Paramount long may they continue to put out more pretty and not so pretty mechs for me to use in a purely not for profit way of course.
Chapter One
Red Alert onlined slowly and knew he'd crashed. Left to his own devices he never woke up slowly. The pain of all his senses coming online was best dealt with in a sudden intense spasm rather than a slow agony as each system booted up. Optical flickered on and the world became a nauseating swirl of colors and light that grudging settled into a razor sharp focus. He found himself staring up at a blue and white ceiling. Red Alert felt, rather than heard his vents sigh. Yes definitely a crash, which was the only reason he ever ended up in this room. He made sure his vocalizer was off, braced and triggered the rest of his sensors online all at once. There was a brief flash of a dip in battery acid, bad energon flavor, and screaming howling noise then his sensors dialed down. He hunched over slightly, trying to be quiet about it, he wanted to be upright and focused before the medic finally arrived. Apparently he was quiet enough, the medic didn't appear. Red Alert lay back on the berth and tried to remember, oh yes Clayshot baiting the minibot in corridor B with the damn noisemakers. He remembered the way the corridor had echoed and then everything went into that particularly hazy feedback that triggered a fit. Red Alert levered himself upright, he could review his records of his audio, but really he didn't need to. None of it would be valid, it never was when he went off like that. He scrubbed a servo over his face plates and began to mentally fill in the reprimand on Clayshot. He was at the "endangerment of the base" portion of report when the medic arrived.
"Thats the third time this vorn, you're getting worse." Aah Greenlight was as tactful as always. Red Alert just looked at him. Nothing he said would make the situation any better really. Greenlight was quite vocal about his issues and how everyone would be better off if Red Alert took up a new position. Specifically one that wouldn't involve "over stimulation". Red Alert wished him all the luck in finding one of those these days. Red Alert sent him the readouts of his sensor state and processor readouts before Greenlight tried to take advantage of his placidly calm state and asked him to open a medical port. Greenlight scowled both physically and in his EM field but grudgingly accepted it. Red Alert eyed the door but knew he wouldn't escape before Greenlight followed the usual protocol attached to Red Alert's file.
" Well you're operating within parameters," Greenlight leaned closer his fields resigned even a little sad. It was like acid rain on Red Alert's sensors. He shifted but never moved his optics away from Greenlight's.
" Scale of six Red Alert hows your quality of life?" Greenlight's voice was soft, gentle and even hopeful. Red Alert paused not because he didn't know the answer but if he responded too quickly he'd be subject to the lecture about how Greenlight was only trying to help. Despite Greenlight and every other medics hopes of helping him Red Alert knew what he needed to do, had to do.
"Four" His response was firm, optics focused, his fields calm. Greenlight's fields however flashed through with frustration and anger.
"Fine, you're cleared to go, do try to stay out of here at least for a little while."
Red Alert eased off the the berth and nodded cordially at Greenlight. He didn't bother thanking him, Greenlight would just see it as an opportunity to coax him into discussing the QOL further.
He stopped for a moment outside of sickbay to dial up his sensors twitching as the input slammed into him like a shot through his abdomen. For a moment he was tempted to turn around and go back inside the sickbay and make Greenlight's vorn. He could tell him "1". He could let Greenlight take him offline and when he woke up he wouldn't remember anything at all. He wouldn't hurt and he'd feel better than he ever had before the War. He was allowed, that was what QOL was for, no one would think less of him, they might even be relieved. All he had to do was say "1". Red Alert stared into space for a moment then logged onto the base network and uploaded Clayshot's reprimand. He straightened and headed towards security, he had too much to do to dwell on this.