He was so close. So close. He had seen Red Alert in the halls a handful of times since he'd come onboard, but the mech was always three strides out of reach. Or that accursed Praxian was next to him, a wing over his shoulders blocking any shot.
He was going to shoot the Praxian just to get him out of the way.
There was no pattern to Red Alert's movements. Sometimes he was in the dispensary at one time, sometimes he was in the rec room, sometimes he was on the observation deck. He'd seen him ducking into one of the officer's offices during pit-cursed fourth shift. He was erratic and aside from the Praxian didn't seem to be overly close anyone.
He couldn't even imitate the Praxian because his armor couldn't configure the wings. He needed an unwinged mech. He had quite the repertoire of mechs to choose from already, but he'd never seen any of them speaking to Red Alert in anything more than passing. The mech was a recluse even on his own ship which would make him easy prey once cornered, it was the getting him cornered that was frustrating.
There had to be someone else. He just had to keep watching. Configuring his armor to one of his preferred scans he walked out of the closet in the engine room he'd recharged in. The mech he was currently acting as was just as reclusive as his prey and very few had ever tried to engage him in conversation. It made it easy to walk through the halls and track his prey. He would find a weakness.
oOo
Red Alert sat on a berth until Ratchet came out of his office looking at a datpad. "I need a total processor scan, the glitch is getting worse," he said before the medic could ask him what he wanted.
Ratchet lowered the datpad and looked at Red Alert with his optic ridge raised. "Decided that all by yourself did you?" he asked. Ratchet didn't believe anyone without medical training when they started self-diagnosing, but Red Alert lived with his glitch and this new development of his mind telling him there were doubles of mechs and femmes and one was an imposter was not welcome. The medic also looked tired which made Red Alert feel a little guilty. The scan was an invasive and long process. The medic recharged only half as often as Prowl but unlike their SIC who had Red Alert and Jazz to shoo him into his quarters, Ratchet didn't have anyone like that. Wheeljack was probably the only one who could convince the CMO to recharge for a joor, but he wasn't responsible enough to recharge on his own, much less keep track of Ratchet. He toyed with the idea of calling the Prime. He was the only one who could actually order Ratchet to his berth and that was probably what it would take.
Leaving that for a later joor, Red Alert met the medic's stare. "I have begun believing certain mechs are imposters and body doubles," he said to Ratchet's deadpan. That caught the medic's attention. Instead of bantering with him further he set the datpad aside and walked over to Red Alert.
"When did this start?" he asked, gentle hands rough from work held his head still while Ratchet's tactile scanners looked for any physical damage that could account for the new hallucinations.
Red Alert let himself relax a bit as the scanners made an oddly soothing vibration down his spinal strut. He was safe with Ratchet. He might smack him in the head on occasion, but it was always to break up the paranoid spiral. "First time I thought I saw two of the same mech was two orns after our last stop. The imposter theory grabbed hold yesterorn when I thought I saw two Mirages in the hall. One was in the rec room and the other was down by Prowl's office."
"All right, lay down," the medic said releasing his head. "From what I've read that's a very rare symptom of this glitch. Did Soundwave's hack cause any surge in the paranoid thoughts?"
"No. The information taken, while somewhat taxing to replace, is not irreparable," Red Alert dutifully reported. "The Twins haven't set off any pranks, Wheeljack hasn't set off any explosions or notified me of gas leaks, Perceptor hasn't lost any lab animals, and none of the scouts have tried to smuggle other lifeforms onboard. I don't know what the trigger for this escalation is." It was beyond frustrating. He'd been stable for a centicycle and now he was devolving into something that could seriously jeopardize his position in the army and he had no idea why.
He had no idea what he would do if he couldn't continue his position in the army. Defense strategy had been what pulled him out of his madness in Iacon. It was still what helped keep him sane. And he'd lose Prowl and Ratchet because they couldn't drop everything to help a civilian with problems. They still had an army to take care of. He didn't know where to go, his home was destroyed, the forest he'd grown up in razed to the ground. He needed Prowl's help just to get something for breakfast on a colony. He'd never survive. He'd start spiraling within a kel and then they'd just lock him up, overmedicate him—
A sharp rap between his horns pulled a startled sound out of him. He blinked and looked up at Ratchet staring down at him with a raised optic ridge. "Settle. There is another reason for this. Symptoms such as you described don't pop up overnight. There would have been other signs of decline. Now relax and stop thinking."
Sighing he closed his optics and did manage to relax enough his spark no longer thundered in his chest. Not thinking wasn't an option though, but he sent his mind on the path of wondering how and when the procedure he was about to undergo was developed. Medical history had never been a keen interest to him, but it was fascinating enough to slow his thoughts and keep them from a spiral.
Ratchet hooked up a series of electrodes to his head to monitor what his processor was up to. "Blaster said you and Jazz are spending more time together, he hasn't said or done anything to trigger even a short spiral?" His tone was a bit distracted and Red Alert tried not to squirm when a needle was inserted in his cranial port. The scanners always felt "cold" in a strange sense. When Ratchet did a direct jack into him he could feel the medic's mind on the other side and it was "warm" like life. The scanners were a void. It was like walking into a massive empty room and hearing nothing but your own footsteps echoing off the walls.
Red Alert rolled his optics. "Blaster is hardly a reliable source of news I don't know why you insist on speaking to him about ship happenings." Ratchet, though, was always in the market for blackmail especially concerning a certain pair of twins.
Ratchet tapped his forehead twice in admonishment. "Sometimes he gives me something useful. You and Jazz, yes or no?"
Sighing Red Alert said, "Yes we have been working together on redoing Altihex's defense strategy and no, he has not triggered anything." It had been a surprise to him that he hadn't had an episode in the septorn they'd been working together. He found their chats before they started work to be rather…relaxing. He was beginning to understand why Prowl also talked to the mech outside of work joors as often as he did. In private, Jazz hadn't slipped into the strange code he spoke with Blaster even once.
Prowl had warned him if music ever came up for discussion that would change quickly.
He felt the hum of the more invasive scanner in his head and closed his optics scrunching his nasal ridge. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't an experience he enjoyed. "I've managed to figure out a few more things about him that make him more…I don't know, sensible? I still don't understand the strange code language he speaks with Blaster, but at least his mannerisms are beginning to make more sense."
Ratchet laughed softly and listened while Red Alert endured the unpleasant experience by telling Ratchet about the different things he'd learned about Jazz. He was certain the medic knew everything he told him but he didn't interrupt. Red Alert had been a little disgruntled to find out Prowl knew most of what he'd told him about Jazz. He hadn't thought Prowl knew any more about Jazz than he did. But then again, as Prowl had pointed out, they had been working closely together for close to a centicycle. Mundane details like where each other was from had already been exchanged. Still, he, like Ratchet, let Red Alert recount what Jazz had told him and occasionally added extra information if Red Alert was still confused about something.
As far as the invasive scan went, it was one of the less stressful ones he'd undergone. When Ratchet started unhooking him he had his brow furrowed while he thought. "You've been recharging properly and eating like you should?" he asked when the needle was removed. Red Alert sat up and shook his head and shoulders to get used to the weight of his horns once again. And rubbed his cranial port to dispel the strange cold feeling scanners always left him with.
"Yes, since Jazz is back on ship he makes certain Prowl gets his ration and I am inevitably dragged along," he said without heat. He was beginning to enjoy their trips to the dispensary. Jazz didn't often sit with them since he tended to draw a crowd and neither Red Alert nor Prowl enjoyed the loud voices and crush of bodies around them while they were "being seen."
Ratchet sighed. "Red Alert, I don't see any changes. This report is the same as your previous scan. Everything is still stable."
The buzz in his head became almost too loud to handle and gentle hands held his head once more, grounding him in the med bay. "There are no imposters on the ship," Red Alert bit out. The hallucinations weren't real, he couldn't give any credence to that thought or he would fall so deep into madness not even Ratchet would be able to pull him out.
"I agree," Ratchet said softly. "When did you see these 'doubles' on security feeds or in person?" His rough voice was as gentle as it got. Red Alert was certain he, Bumblebee, and Bluestreak were the only ones that ever heard that particular tone. Working hard to keep his breathing even instead of jagged and panicked he focused on the gentle pulse Ratchet's tactile scanners were emitting. He thought it was probably the same slow beat of his spark but Red Alert's spark had never been that slow and calm. It was always a quick flutter against his chest that could turn into a painful beating in a second.
Swallowing and closing his optics he kept part of his mind centered on the warmth coming from Ratchet's hands. Those were real. They were real and with him right now. The gentle pulse from his scanners he tried to channel to his spark to get it to slow. It was hard, the buzz in his head was still almost too loud. "First time it was Cliffjumper on the security feed. Then Hound, also on the security feed. Mirage twice, once on security feed and once in the halls."
"Most of the occurrences were on the security feed. It wouldn't be hard for Sideswipe to steal a few of Hound's holographic discs," Ratchet said with impeccable reasoning. "And dropping one in a random place to be caught on the feed would be easy enough."
Red Alert's shoulders relaxed. Fragging Twins. Nodding he opened his optics. He hadn't considered the Twins pulling a prank. They were usually more…explosive or messy or loud. This subtle manipulation wasn't beyond them, but no one else on the ship would know about it. "Go "be seen" and I'll tell Hound to check the number of discs he has," Ratchet ordered standing up.
"You should recharge," Red Alert said as he slid off the berth. Ratchet snorted and waved him out, returning to his office.
oOo
He watched his prey walk out of the med bay. He had almost followed him in, but he'd heard some terrifying rumors about the Autobot CMO. He had not survived Shockwave just to have some insane Ahnkmorian kill him with a welder.
He waited until Red Alert was at a cross hall before following. The mech had caught him more than once following him, but he'd been smart enough to cycle through his configurations so he never knew.
He kept a safe distance following the mech to the much quieter hall where the officers' offices were located. Red Alert knocked on a familiar door but didn't go in as he usually did. A loud greeting startled both him and his prey. The almost silent Praxian walked out first, but behind him was a Polyhexian who had the loud voice.
But he wasn't just a Polyhexian, he was the Polyhexian. That was the mud-sucker that had put him in this place to begin with. Fury seethed through his lines. This was his fault. After he killed Red Alert he was going to kill the Polyhexian. He'd make him bleed and scream and the whole time Red Alert's head would be watching him. That would upset him, having his friend's dull dead optics staring at him as he screamed.
Friend.
He watched the three walk down the hall, the Praxian's stupid wing over his prey's shoulders but the Polyhexian was talking to them both. A smile starting to spread across his face he did a scan on the Polyhexian before they were too far. Unlike the others he'd scanned the Polyhexian's head jerked up and he looked around with a frown on his face.
He ducked back around the corner and started walking down the hall in the opposite direction. He had found the weakness, the crack in Red Alert's wall. He had planned on showing Red Alert his true face before he tore out his spark but now he reconsidered. It would be nicer to see the mech's optics go dark while he thought it was his friend tearing him open. That would be much more satisfying. Megatron would like his creativity. Soundwave wasn't that creative, neither was Starscream. It would make Megatron happy knowing he had an officer who could think like that.
oOo
A/N: *Jaws music plays*
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