Disclaimer: I do not own transformers. Period.
Freak No Longer: Chapter 2 – A Meeting with the medic
It was a dream.
Red Alert kept his optics shut and his frame rigid as he booted up, and the dream was remembered vividly in front of his optics.
He was 'performing', when a handsome red mech had parted the crowd and told Ringleader he wanted to buy him. Paid 10 000 credits to purchase him, and all he had remembered in the dream at this point was pain, before he woke up to see the red mech, telling him he was free.
Inferno.
His imagination had given him the perfect saviour. Strong, kind, with the most wonderful smile. And his saviour had said that the way he lived wasn't how all Cybertronians lived!
It had been a wonderful dream while it had lasted. He hoped he could have it again.
Reluctant to open his optics – he had so enjoyed the reality of the dream flux – Red Alert stretched.
It was only then that his sensors registered he was lying on the same soft material he had been on in his 'dream.'
Bolting up, awake, Red's mouth gaped open.
It wasn't a dream!
Now that he was alone, he took stock of his surroundings. The space he was in (a room?) was made up of three walls and a window. The window showed many gleaming buildings and flying mechs and femmes soaring through the air. The walls were a cream colour, and there was minimal decoration. A simple picture adorned the wall. Looking closer in curiosity, all the red mech could see was some purple and blue crystals, with splashes of green. There was the surface he was lying on. Moonracer had never taught him what bots slept on, because he had his cage and his mat for as long as he could remember. There was also a set of drawers. Different to the ones that had been in the circus which held props. They were some sort of black stone, carved with a spiralling pattern on the top.
Crawling out of the soft surface in curiosity, Red Alert moved forward and laid his hands on it.
For some reason, he felt a tingle in his digits.
This was real. Substantial.
He was free.
And at the same time, he was not.
It dawned on him that even though he could possibly walk out that door and Inferno would let him go (he hoped), where would he go? What could he do? All he had ever known was the circus. The pain of his glitch, being called a 'freak,' of being treated the wrong way. He didn't have any use to anyone. He had no idea as to what the world was really like. And what was to say that Ringleader or some other mech like him wouldn't capture him and treat him like that once more?
His sensor horns sparked at the mere thought of the taunts and the pain.
"Red?"
The soft voice made him turn around. Inferno was in the doorway, smiling at him.
Nervously, Red Alert took his hands off the drawers, knowing perhaps this nice mech might not like him touching his things. Ringleader never allowed him to touch anything.
"It's okay," Inferno said, edging into the room carefully. This mech he had freed, he knew nothing about except for their first, true encounter where they were both in their sound minds. Only that he was terribly abused and had such a curious, yet cautious nature about him.
"Is it really?" asked the smaller mech.
Silence strung between them. Inferno didn't really know how to reply to that, and Red Alert had no wish to break the silence with saying something. He didn't really know what to say. He had a feeling that the social etiquette in the real Cybertronian world was different to what he had experienced. He watched his rescuer, searching for any cues.
"I'd like t' think so," replied the larger mech finally, coming closer and sitting down on the berth. "After all…ya're out of that horrible place. I see that as a victory. A small one. But I just gotta count the blessin's."
Shyly, uncertainty practically bleeding out of him, Red Alert asked, "What happens from here? I don't…I don't know-"
"Shh," soothed Inferno. "I meant it when I said I'd take care of ya. And that means ya need a visit from a medic to give ya a check up. Primus knows how good that dolt took care of ya."
Ducking his helm, Red mumbled, "I'm sorry."
"Hey." A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder to give an assuring squeeze. "Ya ain't got nothin' to be sorry for. It's not ya fault ya ended up with them."
Again, that strong sense of trust came from within him, so the younger mech sat down beside the larger mech and supplied, "Abandoned. Ringleader relished in telling me of how he took me in. On a stormy night outside of Kalis. I had no creators to my name. I was left alone."
The word echoed in the space between them.
"Well, I think it's safe to say ya ain't gonna be alone anymore," Inferno said with a grin.
Nodding his head, Red looked up into the other mechs optics. They were such a warm, reassuring blue. They drew him in, and he gave his own tiny smile in reply.
A chime went off somewhere, and Inferno rose, saying over his shoulder, "It's prob'ly just Ratchet. He's my medic. He's gonna look you over."
When the larger mech left, it felt as if some of the warmth left the room. Red Alert shivered. His rescuers presence had been so calming. He was solid. And now that he had left – however briefly – he wished for him to return. A nervousness crept in. He had only seen medics a few times when he was younger, and actually only tended to twice in his entire life. The first time was to receive the right codes, anti-virus, and basic firewall protection to his processor. The second when was his glitch had truly played up, and he had to take almost three decacyles off from his act. Ringleader had not been happy. Any other time he had wounds or when he was feeling like the lowest mech in the world, Moonracer had been there to stroke his helm and hold his hands until he rested.
He had no idea what this medic would be like. Would he be as stiff and as coldsparked like the previous two experiences had taught him? Or would he treat him like a drone?
But then again, this medic was a friend of Inferno's. And if Inferno was being honest in his desire to care for him, then he would have gotten somebot who would bring no harm to him.
Shuttering his optics, he heard as footsteps echoed from somewhere outside the door. There were two sets, and the one in front was heavier than the one in the back. Inferno must have been in the front, which meant the medic would be a smaller frame type than the large red mech.
"Red Alert, we're coming in. Let us know if you feel uncomfortable," Inferno's now-familiar voice called out before stepping in, being just as cautious as before, before making way for the mech behind him. Red stiffened, prepared for the worst.
A little ebb of relief washed over him as the medic came into view. He was predominantly white with red plating here and there, red crosses on his shoulders and a grey chevron mounting his helm. He looked both a mech not to be messed with and yet the true depiction of a typical healer. There was intelligence in those optics, and an underlying concern almost marred by the grimness of his expression.
"I'm Ratchet. I'm CMO at the Iacon general, and I happen to be a friend of Inferno's. He told me about you. Red Alert, isn't it?"
The briskness would have put him off it is wasn't for the gentle tone and the careful hands as he neared Red. The smaller mech nodded, torn between trusting and shying away, hiding behind his protector. "Yes."
"I heard you were secluded from normal Cybertronian society all of your life. How well can you read or write?" asked the medic, kneeling before him and setting a grey bag down. It made a soft clinking noise as it rested on the floor.
"I have a good abilities in speech, reading, and writing, but only in Cybertronian. I wasn't taught anything in my life apart from out language we share, and where everything is in this planet. The circus leader's daughter, Moonracer, taught me." Red Alert shuttered his optics rapidly, as if not believing he had revealed so much to this stranger medic. He took hold of the bolt of courage running through him at the present time and went on, "It was only allowed by Ringleader because it was to be more humiliating for me…that I could have some normalcy within me even as I was tortured by my own glitch."
Ratchet was silent, his optics turning a shade deeper with sorrow. There was such a strength within this young mech. A resilience. Something he saw with some abuse victims, but not all.
"Well, that's why I'm here. I'm going to determine the source of your glitch and see if it's not too late to remove the coding or at least decrease the symptoms so they no longer cause you crippling pain," informed the medic, moving closer to Red. His usual bedside manner was dropped today in favour of assuring the mech before him. Inferno had been right to call him. This was a bad case.
"What must I…what must I do? Do I have to show you my glitch?"
Even as Red asked, the other two mechs flinched. They had no wish to see any intentional pain inflicted.
"No. Just open up the medical access panel, and let me do the rest. It will feel very odd. In your case, it might even feel intrusive. But I promise not to hurt you, on my medic's oath," Ratchet explained, unspooling his medical data cable from his forearm. He offered it forward, allowing the smaller red mech to get a good look at it.
Inferno came around to sit at Red Alert's side once more, and took his hand. "I'm right here if you need anything."
Inundated by the show of caring, Red felt a deep emotion bloom deep inside, something he had never felt before. Gratitude? Maybe. It seemed apt. "Thank you," he whispered.
Taking it as invitation, he helped the younger mech unlatch his medical panel (the hinges squeaked from disuse) and plug the cable in.
Red stiffened when he felt the intruder. Every baser instinct was screaming at him to get the medic out, but he kept his conscious at the forefront. He needed this. He needed this glitch to go away. And only a medic could do that. He shuttered his optics and gritted his denta as he felt something probing within his processor. It was gentle, and that helped, but Ratchet had been right. It felt invading.
Not long after, although it seemed an eternity to Red Alert, Ratchet withdrew, satisfied he had collected enough data to analyse. He still kept them connected through the medical uplink, but he was no longer intentionally searching through systems. "I'll have to go through the coding of the glitch later on. But for now, I can send your processor a synthesized package of updated anti-virus and firewall software. Not to mention the necessary processor upgrades needed for you to extend your knowledge base easier. I can send it through the link now, and you can sink back into recharge and let your processor do all the work. Sound good?"
"I think so. I don't know," admitted Red shyly.
"Of course you wouldn't have," murmured the medic pensively. Not accusing in any way. "I think it's for the best. You need more rest. And don't worry. You're in Inferno's capable hands."
Inferno was silent, watching them.
Secure.
Safe.
Red Alert nodded, gesturing for Ratchet to complete the medical upload. The data package was sent, and no sooner had he opened it when code protocols from it shut him down for recharge.
Seeing the optics dim, Inferno laid the smaller mech down on the berth as Ratchet unplugged the medical access cable and placed it back into his arm. In silence they left the room and shut the door.
Ratchet's gentle demeanour with Red Alert completely vanished then, and he hissed to Inferno, "Those slaggers! They only gave him the most rudimentary of protection! It's a miracle he's survived this long, with his glitch and all. And he's young too. Not too much younger than you, but young nevertheless. He should be out in the world trying to find a job and finding romance or a good frag, not struggling to assimilate into life as a normal Cybertronian."
"Prime's doin' something about it. He assured me."
Ratchet whirled around to the big mech and studied him. He'd never seen the fire and rescue mech like this before. Red Alert and his condition must have really sobered the mech. "Well, you did good in rescuing him. Otherwise, I think he would have deactivated under too much more of the kind of treatment you described to me. It makes my energon boil and my tank turn. It's disgusting that mechs would do that sort of thing to their own kind!"
Inferno sighed and walked into his living room, flopping into his big couch gracelessly. "Yeah, I agree. Ratch…when I look at him, I can't help but want to hold him and make sure everythin' is okay. Don't know why. And it makes me angry. He's a gentle spark, I can see it in 'im already."
The medic nodded, but suspected more than pity was happening within the bigger mech. He went on, a bit less gruffly, "It's going to be a long and hard road Inferno. You sure you know what you are getting yourself into? There are clinics that will take him."
"Without a doubt, yeah." There was no hesitation from Inferno as he spoke. "I know it'll be hard. But somethin' within me is tellin' me Red'll come good. As long as I have ya support, I should be right."
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