"There's a Decepticon ship landing!"

Those were the first words out of Bumblebee's mouth as he skidded into the medbay. First Aid nearly dropped a beaker in surprise. Knockout cursed as the distraction caused him to scratch his paint.

"Can't you knock?" the medic demanded, immediately snatching up a buffing rag.

"This is important! There are Decepticons landing and they're requesting medical aid." Bumblebee continued. "Magnus had them set down a few miles away—Bulkhead and I are coming with you."

"Can't leave 'Cons unsupervised…" Knockout muttered under his breath, but he began packing his field kit.

First Aid helped him, trying to ignore the shiver of fear creeping up his spine. This was the first Decepticon ship to return to Cybertron since its restoration. Aside from Knockout, everyone on the planet was either Autobot or Neutral. First Aid prayed this new arrival wouldn't upset the delicate peace they'd achieved. He also prayed he could handle it without having a breakdown…

Within ten minutes, the doctors and their entourage were speeding toward the ship. Even from a distance, it looked awful, sagging on its landing gear like a beaten animal. A cloud of greasy smoke rose from the engines.

"The Weak Anthropic Principle." Bulkhead read from the hull. "Weird name."

"It's a theory about the relative and probable values of cosmological quantities, based on the requirements concerning evolved life." First Aid put in, trying to be helpful. The explanation was met with dead silence.

"…I understood none of that," Bumblebee admitted.

"It's quantum physics jargon," Knockout said simply. "Let's just get this job done."

As they pulled to a stop at the ship's open entry hatch, a soot-covered mech with goggles perched atop his head came running out. He motioned frantically for them to enter. "Hurry! They're dying!"

"I'm not dying!" A gruff voice shouted from inside the ship. Bumblebee and Bulkhead led the way through the entry, the medics coming close behind. The ship's interior wasn't much better than the outside. There wasn't much damage, but clutter was everywhere—from empty Engex cans to foam darts. First Aid shrunk back as they walked through the halls. It's just a ship, he told himself. It can't hurt you, no matter who it belongs to. A Decepticon emblem was stenciled on the wall; it seemed to leer at them as they passed. First Aid hurriedly looked away, focusing on the sigil on his own chest. The red Autobot symbol calmed him down. Autobots meant safety.

The goggled mech took them into the ship's medbay—though it was so poorly stocked, it hardly merited the term. Four other mechs sat inside, in various states of injury. The sight of leaking energon spurred First Aid out of his funk. "What happened?" He demanded as he hurried to one of the injured.

"Pirates," a blue mech grumbled. He cradled his damaged arm closer, though the arm looked fine compared to the chunk missing from his helm. "They shot out one of our engines while we were flying away, and then the slaggin' thing exploded while Spinister and Misfire were trying to fix it."

"We barely got away," one of the other mechs said through his battle mask.

"The good news is, none of your injuries look fatal." Knockout said as he examined a comatose helicopter-former lying on a berth. "This fellow seems to be the worst off, but it's nothing a few welds and a good polish won't fix."

"Thank Primus." Sighed the masked mech. "I'm Krok, by the way—the captain. The one on the berth is Spinister."

The rest of the crew was introduced as the Autobots tended to them. As Knockout had said, their damages were fairly easy to treat. The worst was Crankcase's massive helm injury, but apparently that was an old wound and could wait. The goggled mech, Fulcrum, was fortunately unscathed.

"This isn't fair," Misfire whined as First Aid patched him up. "I always get to do the introductions."

"Maybe you can introduce everyone to the rest of the Autobots when you come back with us," First Aid consoled him. The sight of the Decepticon symbol on the mech's chassis was sending his anxiety into overdrive, but the work helped him keep it in check. Misfire's constant chatter helped too, even it wasn't entirely lucid.

"It's not the same," Misfire complained, pouting. "Stupid pirates…they're just lucky I didn't meet them head-on. I'd have torn them apart."

"Uh-huh."

"Really! I'm whirlwind in a fight. Like a cornered turbofox—all teeth and claws."

"I'll make sure never to get in a fight with you, then." First Aid said softly. Misfire gave him a lopsided smile.

"You know, you're all right for an Autobot. What's your name again?"

"First Aid."

"I'm gonna call you First Aid-orable."

The nurse sputtered, speechless. He heard Knockout stifle a laugh, which only served to fluster him more. "I—I'm not adorable!"

"Yes you are." Misfire fluttered his wings, beaming. "You're First Aid-orable. It's official."

"It could be worse," Fulcrum told the nurse. "My nickname is 'Loser.'"

"B-but—"

"Shut your adorable mouth and finish the repairs." Knockout said dryly. First Aid resumed his work, face burning with embarrassment. Fortunately, they finished soon after that.

"You'll need to come with us to see Ultra Magnus," Bumblebee informed Krok. "It shouldn't take too long."

"Right. You lot, take it easy and don't destroy the ship while I'm gone." Krok ordered as they left. First Aid packed his tools back up as quickly as possible. He was relieved he'd made it through without having a panic attack, but he still wanted to get out of here.

"Thanks again," Fulcrum told the medics.

"It's our job," Knockout replied, subspacing his field kit. "Let's go, First Aid-orable."

First Aid huffed, but followed without retort.

"Wait, you forgot something!"

First Aid turned back. The Decepticon was proffering something—he must have forgotten it in his haste. A—

A laser scalpel.

The innocuous tool seemed to leap at him and suddenly he wasn't on the W.A.P. anymore. Operating lights streamed into his optics, blinding him, but he couldn't turn away. The scalpel hovered above his face, wielded by a sneering shadow. As the shadow bent over him, a purple emblem filled his vision, a face staring down on him in cold judgement—

"Aid!"

A hand smacked him across the face. He reeled back, blinking. Worried faces surrounded him, but he didn't register their concern; all he could see was the red optics and the violet emblems that loomed above him like swords ready to fall.

The world became a blur as he raced from the ship and across the deserted landscape. A voice in the back of his mind screamed that he was overreacting again, that he wasn't in danger, but he tuned it out. He zoomed onto the Nemesis and screeched down the halls, not stopping until he got to his quarters. The door slammed shut behind him. He slumped against it, sinking to the floor.

Breathe, Aid…just breathe. He took deep vents, in and out, trying to calm the erratic pounding of his spark. And all the while he stared at the collage of Autobot symbols on the wall, the collage he'd been creating ever since Delphi. Autobots. Autbots meant safety.

Decepticons meant pain.