Title: Blades and First Aid VIII
Rating: M
Time was running out.
There were only about several of them left in this room. Excluding himself, none of the others knew about the horrors waiting them but when their captives came from them, it would only take kliks before they were all dead. Since returning, First Aid had been counting; calculating with morbid focus how long it would take before the next sacrifice began. Digging another notch into the floor, the australian shepherd looked to his side, where the small youngling leaned against him, sleeping.
In a few cycles time, that peaceful autodog would know a hell like no other. How could he rest or even smile with that fate looming over his helm?
Though First Aid thought to rouse Fireflight, inform the younger mech about the beast that sat in its cage, ready to devour them, but he inevitably refrained. No point allowing the shih tzu to entertain the same nightmares that the vet himself now did. After all, there was still the chance that they may be saved... right?
Rationality squashed such a thought immediately. Even in medicine, any significant action that can be taken, must be done within the first twenty-four cycles, otherwise any misfortune could befall after. They had arrived in a number of about forty... now they were down to seven. Their captors obviously had to wait for periods of time between snatching up some of their victims, but even given that fact, it was apparent that the remaining handful of autodogs had been here longer than twenty-four cycles. Probably even longer than a week.
Long enough to be lost in the Enforcer system and considered a 'recovery mission' rather than a 'rescue.'
xxXxXxx
Licking his fangs shortly, the kittycon slunk closer, sniffing the air as he came that much closer to his prey. He was close enough that one leap and he could wrap his claws around that throat and rip- before another servo grabbed the back of his own neck cables and yanked him into the darkness once more.
"Just what do you think you are doing?," the low vocalizer demanded coolly, optics narrowed behind a red visor. Vortex looked back with his own bloody band, a cruel grin stretching wide across his face.
"I just wanted to say hello."
"Try it," the lion growled under his vents, "You will soon see how far my claws can reach those tender wires of yours."
The lynx laughed, wriggling his hips up toward the other mech. "Is that a promise, Razorclaw?," he cooed. "Say, would your brutish mate mind if you and me had a lil' frag?"
Razorclaw leaned forward more, ignoring the glossa that lapped quickly at the edge of his jaw. "Only if I brought your spike and fluid tanks home afterwards as her prize," he returned smartly, the corner of his lip component turning upwards with a tiny smirk.
At his statement, the grey mech scowled, resting flat against the wall. "You are absolutely no fun."
"Good," the predakitty said. He turned his helm to the side an inch, looking out the window; one servo still keeping Vortex pressed to the wall. "He's approaching an autodog- same attributes as the others."
Ears perking, the lynx slithered free in an astrosecond, peeking out another window along the empty hallway. His smile was utterly maniacal as he stared out the window at the mech they'd been tailing for only a cycle. "I knew he was a creepo," the younger mech vented eagerly, watching as their prey closed in on his own victim.
"I'm quite impressed you know the scent of your own kind," the predakitty shot back, surveying the area once more. There was no other 'bots in sight, but the sneaking autodog and the poor youngling he was already engaging in conversation.
"Ha, real funny, Simba. Bet you crack all the lil' hairballs up at home."
Razorclaw pushed away from the window, adjusting the satchel across his back carrying his beloved clawed gauntlets. "He's subdued the youngling and is on the move. We need to get higher and track his path. The others are counting on us." With a pedestep as silent as the air itself, the lion hurried up the dingy staircase to the roof; the lynx close behind him.
"A-hunting I will go, a-hunting I will go," Vortex singed, cackling shortly in between, "Hi-ho the derry-o, a-hunting I will go."
"Are you going to sing the entire trip?," the predakitty asked, the barest hint of annoyance in his tone. He opened the access door, stepping onto the roof. It took only a quick glance to spot the generic van the kidnapper was using as a get-away car.
The kittycon grinned, bloody visor flashing hungrily. "Right until the moment I'm ripping their throats open."
"Very good," Razorclaw remarked, using a pocket-sized spyglass to get a quick study of the vehicle and its plates. There wasn't any sarcasm in his words.
xxXxXxx
It sounded like it was thundering outside in the hallway. Groggily, the australian shepherd onlined his optics; staring first at the other victims then turning his attentions to the notches he made on the floor before passing out. Twenty notches. The food bowl had not been filled, but seeing as it was being used as a nest by a bunch of turborats, First Aid doubted he would eat anything out of it.
It probably wouldn't matter soon anyhow...
The large booming noise continued, getting louder and louder, joined by the weak whimpers and prayers that the younglings choked out as they pushed to disappear somewhere in their dark cell. Turning to the thin sliver of light now pouring in from beneath the door, the vet tried to make sense of what was happening. Twenty notches was a long time to be ignored... but now First Aid thought he understood why.
Crying, yelling, threats and thundering pedes.
Their captors had retrieved yet more victims to offer in some sick, sexual sadistic sacrifice to their 'God'.
"W-what... what's going on out there?," Fireflight whispered from just behind the older autodog. A tinge of terror highlighted his tone. Smugness, or something like it, made the vet almost feel glad to hear it. He shook it off though as he next heard guns cock and at least a dozen young voices disappear behind a slamming, iron door.
"Feed them and then collect everything," a cruel vocalizer ordered.
"And the others?"
The question, barely legible, still brought an absolute silence to their prison cell. Straining his ears, First Aid tried to listen, though he already knew the words that would follow.
"We need only wait for the last batch to arrive, and then we can proceed with the next ceremony."
Venting weakly, the australian shepherd shuttered his optics; a shaking fist gripping his elbow as the rest of his companions broke out into a series of hopeless whimpers.
xxXxXxx
Three cycles and one lonely van took them through Iacon, past the city border and into the state of Uraya. Along the way it picked up three more younglings -two femmes and one mechling- all white and caught unaware. There could be no doubt that this was their target and despite their evasive tactics, Razorclaw was not about to let them out of his sight.
"Vortex... heel," he commanded quietly, adjusting the spyglass. The predakitty could hear the lynx skulk around him, trying to see through the tree branches.
"No one tells me to heel," Vortex growled. "Put that damn optic scope down and let's move already. Those amateurs are slowing down."
The lion didn't even shutter an optic. "I know that. You also know our mission." He pocketed the spyglass, tightening the strap on his pack. "I suggest we keep to the trees. They'll notice if they're being tailed at this point."
"So let me just kill them!," the grey mech hissed, already moving across the branches, leaping in one, fluid bound to the other tree. His visor and grin glowed eerily from the space between the pines. "I can hi-jack that vehicle and spear those losers through the valve in two kliks! Less even!"
Razorclaw followed Vortex's lead, swinging to the branch above him and to the next tree over in a few moments. He glanced coolly at the younger mech. "Try anything and you will be gutted, cat," he said threateningly. "You were sent out to be a help, not a hindrance. Killing these fools in such an untimely fashion will not only be ineffective but it'll put the rest of the victims at risk. Do you understand what that means?"
The red band stared back in silence.
"It means," the lion pressed, "That they will all be killed before we can rescue them."
Vortex growled, fangs bared. "I get it," he replied. "Now shut it. While you were busy rambling, our lil' white van just opened a cute underground ramp and drove down. Looks like that's where they've been hiding out, like a horde of ugly, stupid goblins!"
Razorclaw took a look himself but saw nothing. Giving the area a quick scope, the orange mech scaled down the tree and dashed to the last spot he'd seen the van in. Vortex joined him a klik later, after he'd inspected the ground and surrounding vegetation. "There's an entire trapdoor situated here. Fairly well blended with the terrain, at least a couple decades old and decently crafted. I'd guess that it was built for military purposes back during the war."
The lynx did not respond, picking along the almost invisible seams of the door. "Rusty about the hinges, don'tcha think?"
"Abandoned," the other mech answered. "Don't bother opening it," he added as he saw the kittycon move to slide a claw under the dirt along the edge. A cruel visor looked up at him angrily. It wasn't anything Razorclaw hadn't seen before.
"It's been wired. You open that with any sort of force and you'll endanger every single autodog in there," he continued calmly. "This used to be some sort of lab or medical facility; a labyrinth of never-ending halls and levels, purposefully built to allow the 'bots within enough time to escape unhindered should one entrance be breached."
"... and?," Vortex demanded impatiently.
The lion unclipped a beacon, breaking the seal on it. Immediately, it started flashing. "And," he replied, pinning the lynx down with a firm stare, "We radio it in- just as Yoketron commanded- and wait for the others to arrive." He ignored the hiss that followed. "During which, we find and mark the other entrances."
It wasn't even an astrosecond before the lynx tore off in a mad dash, disappearing into the rest of the woods. Not concerned about where his partner had taken off to, Razorclaw planted the beacon into the grass before the hidden door; walking off in the other direction as he sent an encrypted message to Yoketron.
xxXxXxx
The steel door screeched like an injured beast as it was swung open; banging against the wall with a fearsome gong. Shivering and shaking, the other younglings jumped in fright, staring into the rectangle of light through tearful optics. This time they didn't scramble away -they already knew more victims had been collected and now their stay in this Primus-forsaken cell was over. They were as good as dead already.
With dim optics, First Aid watched as the first few mechs marched into the room, guns slung over one shoulder and their gazes terrifyingly merry. One by one, they snatched up a youngling, until it was only him left... him and Fireflight.
The shih tzu was being almost admirably brave. He sat patiently beside the older autodog, watching as the others were picked up first; one servo clenching the vet's forearm tightly. "I...i-it's almost like a bad dream t-that never ends, i-isn't it?," he whispered weakly.
First Aid said nothing.
Swallowing sharply, Fireflight's grip on him tightened as two more mechs came in to collect them next. "...i-is it quick?," the youngling asked, afraid.
It took him a moment, but the australian shepherd managed the tiniest of nods just before the two were yanked away from each other viciously. A lie... but even a lie was better than the reality the poor shih tzu would face in a few kliks. Miraculously keeping his tears at bay, Fireflight was yanked out of the room first; his gaze turned away from the mech lecherously looking him over.
"Glad to have you join us at the ceremony once more," husked First Aid's tormentor. His claws tightened about the back of the autodog's neck cables. "Perhaps, you are the special one we've been looking for..."
The vet merely walked forward in time with his captor's stride, praying that this would be the last time he would have to endure this.
xxXxXxx
This was maddening!
Back and forth, back and forth... He paced and paced and paced, unable to do anything else. His thoughts were clouded with dark things, painted in magenta with the vicious images of victims passed. Was his brother even alive? …. Had he failed again?
Blades ran a thumb up and down the face of his dagger, unable to stop moving or even be a help at any capacity. He was being eaten alive with worry, fear, hatred, grief... trapped in a cell of his own after he had tried to run off. 'An endangerment to all', that's what Yoketron had called him. Well, frag that old mutt! Searching for First Aid was not endangering anyone.
Slag, staying here, pretending that research would help them find the missing autodogs, was what would kill his baby brother! How could no one understand that?!
Hissing, Blades stopped his pacing, looking down at the energon dripping from his fist. Carefully he opened up his fingers, pulling the dagger out with his other servo, watching with a scowl at the vicious gashes he'd made in his absent-mindedness. Physical pain meant nothing to him -he'd suffered plenty just to have his family back before. The bull terrier wasn't about to lose anyone else again.
"Blades..."
Jumping, the autodog spun around, alarmed to see Yoketron standing in the doorway to the room. He'd never heard the door open, let alone the kai ken enter... but then again, the old mutt was good at stuff like that. Glowering, the bull terrier was about to open his mouth when the Special Ops officer beat him to the punch.
"We've found their base. The others are heading for the trucks now," he informed.
Optics flaring, Blades bolted for the door, flying past the older mech who stepped out of his way politely. Smiling, thoughwith a little twinge of regret at the circumstances they were in, Yoketron turned and followed the mercenary's path to the garage below.
xxXxXxx
It was amazing that, though he had only walked the path once before, First Aid could easily remember every step to the beast's chamber. The others had no clue where they were going but they were terrified -they whimpered and cried and prayed to themselves, all except the little shih tzu that was a few feet ahead of him. Fireflight held his helm up, fists clenched, shaking minutely here and there. He was silent, just as the vet was, but for reasons entirely different. What faith did he keep that could spare him from the same fear as the others?
Pondering on such an insignificant matter actually distracted the australian shepherd for a time; he was only broken from his daze when a kittycon rushed up to the group from the other direction. "S-stop," he panted, coming to a halt at the first captor.
"What's going on?," one of their escorts demanded. The others cocked their guns, pointing them at the autodogs, making sure their sheep stayed in place.
The new-comer cycled air quickly. "One of the sensors registered a presence outside the West gates. We've been ordered to move out immediately."
Curses swept across the group; the younglings look back and forth uncertainly. A 'presence'? What did that mean?
The leader of the group turned around, growling. "Get them to the trucks at the South-East gates," he ordered. He paused to look at the mech that had brought them the news. "You go round up the others; we'll move out the new batch and-"
An earthquake rocked the entire area, sending the younglings to the ground with screams of terror. Cursing some more, their captors quickly regained their own pedes, shouldering their weapons. "Move it!," the leader barked, grabbing younglings and yanking them up and shoving them towards his comrades. "This isn't a drill!"
First Aid was grabbed by the back of his neck again, twisted around and pulled in the other direction. "What if we're short hands?," someone asked as the group was turned around. "Some of these pups are fragging slow!"
"If they don't move quickly enough on their own," a voice growled somewhere behind the australian shepherd, "Then blast a load in the back of their helms and MOVE ON!"
The other victims screamed, breaking out in horrified sobbing. Tears turned to shrieks as another earthquake rocked the entire floor, sending them into moments of pure darkness as the lights flickered above their helms. First Aid felt a frame smack into his backstruts and knew by the grasping servos it was Fireflight.
"W-we... we have to keep moving," the shih tzu whispered close to the vet's chin. "We're g-going to get out of here, j-just keep fighting a l-little longer! P-please?"
The hallway was lit again as the shaking came to a rest, their captors quickly grabbing elbows and dragging the younglings along as they broke out into a dash. Tripping, trying to keep up, First Aid broke free from his dead-like state like shattering glass. Gasping, his optics flared to life brightly, finally letting everything sink in.
They were supposed to be getting raped at this moment...
They had been set to be stripped of all last dignity, hope and belief, then fed to a beast...
Now they were running through halls, shoved along by the same mechs that had imprisoned them, while the walls and ceilings shook with fearful tremors.
Escaping...
The whole floor shook again, sending them into pitch-black for a few astroseconds. Moving fast, First Aid reached behind himself, grabbing the servo that was reaching for him at the same time. The instant their fingers clasped the other's, the vet bolted; pushing past the mech in front of him and racing down the hallway.
"HEY! They're escaping!," a vocalizer shouted behind them. "Shoot! SHOOT!"
Gunfire sounded as another explosion rocked the area, bullets zinging past and ricocheting away harmlessly. First Aid did not stop running, even when the lights went out for good this time, and he ran blindly through the darkness for a klik before emergency lights blossomed along the floor. His vents were hurting, his legs sore from a long period of inactivity, and he could feel Fireflight wheezing and struggling to keep up behind him, but the australian shepherd kept pushing forward, knowing that there was no way to go back now.
They were finally being rescued! They couldn't die now!
"L...," the shih tzu panted weakly behind him, "L-look! There's more coming from u-up ahead!"
First Aid realized too late what the youngling was pointing too. A larger group, at least two dozen autodogs in similar physical appearance and their twenty or so armed escorts, turned into their corridor from one of the doorways. The kittycons at the front spotted them and they slung their guns forward without hesitation.
"We've got runaways!," one shouted.
Panicking, the vet tried to turn them away, but it was too late. A pair of servos lashed out of nowhere it seemed, grabbing First Aid by the throat, choking off his yip of surprise. "N-no!," Fireflight managed to shout before he too was silenced; picked up and pinned under an bulldog's arm.
"Keep moving!," the mech holding the australian shepherd bellowed, turning into another hallway near to them. "Everyone needs to get into the trucks NOW!"
His captor didn't get far before they were suddenly thrown back into the main corridor; fire, wind and thunder howling up the hallway with monstrous force. Shaking on rubbery limbs, First Aid pulled himself out from under the limp mech, swaying dangerously as the world shook around him. He hurt, from helm to pede and there was a high-pitched ringing in his ears, but he was alive. Still alive. Coughing at the rise of ash and grit, the vet looked around blearily, struggling to make sense of what was going on for an astrosecond.
There was light -real light- pouring in via spots in the ceiling and walls; meshing with the black-scorched rubble and bloody glow of the emergency lights like a child's kaleidoscope. Shaking in desperate disbelief, First Aid hurried to stand, collapsing face-first when his legs were not ready to hold him up. There was the sound of someone running up the hallway the autodog had been blasted from and without hesitation, he lifted his helm up, coolant glazing his optics as his gaze fell on the lynx skidding to a halt in the doorway.
The sight of him sent his spark pulsing faster and faster, until he thought it would actually leap out of his throat. Opening his mouth, servos lifting, he smiled, ready to call for his savior and be swept up into strong arms.
"Vortex!"
The cheerful, relieved cry of joy was not his own. Frozen, he watched as the lynx ripped out the throat of an autodog tormentor getting up, leaping over both him and the corpse as it hit the ground before him, not even noticing the australian shepherd as he rushed farther back into the hallway. Despite his processor protesting against the action, First Aid turned his helm, staring wide-opticed as Fireflight -the younger mech he'd selflessly sacrificed himself for- was scooped up into the lynx's hold; face disappearing as it pressed into the other's chestplates, his arms barely long enough to wrap around Vortex's thick neck.
He couldn't think.
Couldn't feel...
The world started to slow down; all of reality losing sense and place. That was supposed to be him being held, a faint voice yelled, he was supposed to be the one rescued by the kittycon and clutched tightly in desperate relief. He was supposed to be the one Vortex wanted...
He couldn't even muster up enough emotion to be indignant.
First Aid could only stare, void of tears or begs or pain or anger, wondering briefly why he even bothered any more. Surely, life had proven how worthless he was of everything it had to offer. Slowly, he finally started to twist his helm away from the sight of the younger autodog planting tearful kisses to the well-receiving kittycon's cheekplates.
"AID!"
Only to be faced with Blades, frame sprayed with energon, kicking aside corpses as he shoved past fleeing captives, just to stumble into the room. His face was twisted with worry but as his gaze landed on the australian shepherd, a wide, childish grin started to spread across his cheekplates; his optics bright and glazed with overwhelming joy. Immediately, First Aid choked.
Scrambling to his pedes, he fled from the room, pushing himself into the crushing throng of autodog hostages as they all swarmed -crying, shouting, stomping- for the exits and freedom.
He never looked back once.
xxXxXxx
Why...?
Blades watched from across the lot as one of his Wrecker comrades gently took First Aid off to the side, wrapping a blanket around the trembling mech's shoulders and leading him to one of the field vet's they had with them. Seeing how willingly First Aid went along with this stranger -tail tucked between his thighs, helm hung low as he clutched the blanket close to his shivering frame- when he was so obviously terrified out of his processor, made a sick, roiling hatred boil up inside of Blades.
Why? He wondered with growing rage. Why did the australian shepherd trust mere strangers and not him, who'd come in, all heroic-like, just to save his brother alone? Wasn't he supposed to be his 'knight'?!
The urge to reach for his daggers and slit the throats of those surrounding First Aid grew stronger. Quickly, Blades ripped his helm away from the sight of his brother sitting meekly before a fellow vet, cycling a shaky intake; trying to calm himself down.
"...you are worried."
"What the-" Blades snarled, whirling around to the idiot who had decided to step into his personal space. "Oh... it's you...," he grumbled, prying his servos off of his weapons' hilts and turning his helm away from Yoketron. "What do you want, you old exhaust port?"
The Special Ops officer took no offense to the insult, knowing that Blades never meant any true malice with his words. At least... not when those statements were directed at family and friends. "I only came to talk to you...," Yoketron elaborated. His gaze changed from the troubled bull terrier, to the australian shepherd being looked over by their capable vets. "He ran away from you..."
The younger autodog stiffened at the other's words; his optics glaring at the old mech and fangs baring in warning. "Shut it..."
Yoketron ignored him. "It's never something you see coming... They put their trust in you, look up to you, but, if you are not careful, they eventually lose faith in you." The old mech sighed. "It is a terrible pain, when you lose the light of those whom you most needed it from."
"S...shut it..."
"I am sorry, Blades, that you must experience this. But, listen to an elder for once: do not take this to mean that he has forsaken you, Blades," Yoketron continued. "First Aid will still need you, just as much as you need him. Yet, you must be patient. He is feeling very vulnerable right now; scared and no doubt confused. You mustn't let your fear of rejection keep you from being there for your brother. You-"
Blades snapped.
He whirled around, grabbing Yoketron by the throat and slamming him into the side of the nearest armoured vehicle. "YOU KNOW NOTHING! YOU HEAR ME!?," he screamed at the Special Ops officer, ripping a dagger free from his belt and pressing its sharp edge up against the other's neck cables. Yoketron merely shuttered his optics, unaffected by this aggressive show of violence.
Seeing how nonchalant he was, only pissed Blades off more. "YOU'RE JUST SOME STUPID, SON OF A GLITCH WHO LIKES STICKING HIS FACE INTO OTHER PEOPLE'S BUSINESS WHERE IT DON'T BELONG," he bellowed, pressing down on the blade harder, just enough to draw a line of energon. "I'M SICK OF YOUR MIND GAMES AND I'M SICK OF YOUR STUPID ZEN SLAG AND I'M FRAGGING SICK OF ALL THIS DUMB, STUPID, MESSED-UP, FRAGGING-"
"Blades! S-stop! D-don't hurt him! P-please, do-don't-"
"BACK OFF YOU GLITCH!" Blades whirled around, back-handing the 'bot who had the audacity to try and grab his arm. There was a small, broken yelp as the individual fell to the ground, before a strained silence descended over the surrounding group.
Spark catching in his throat, the bull terrier shuttered his optics, trying to speak through the dread filling his tanks. "F...First A-aid...?"
"Tackle him!"
"Yield soldier!"
Blades hit the ground hard as he was suddenly tackled from behind, Onslaught and Blast Off wrestling his weapons from his servos and pinning him down with their collected mass. He snarled and writhed under them indignantly, only receiving a sharp jab to his spinal struts and another shove into the dirt as his reward. "Calm the frag down, soldier! You have no enemies here!," Onslaught growled above him.
The autodog opened his mouth to curse the older mech out when he saw Yoketron brush aside all concerned 'bots, walking cautiously toward his brother. First Aid still cupped his cheekplate, his face turned towards the dirt and shoulder plating hunched high about his ears. He shook like a leaf, half-curled into himself, as small whimpers quietly escaped him.
First Aid... he was crying... He had hit him. He had hurt First Aid and made him cry.
"A...aid!," Blades choked, squirming, trying to get out from under the two kittycons. He arched out his neck, a low whine building up in his vocalizer. "A-aid! I-i'm sorry! I'm s-sorry, Aid! I d-didn't mean to do it, Aid! I-i'd n-never hurt you Aid! P-please! 'Aid! I-i'm so s-sorry!"
Nobody said anything. Gently grasping the vet's trembling shoulders, Yoketron helped First Aid to his pedes, shielding the traumatized autodog from sight until he had escorted him all the way back to the convoy. Only after First Aid had been handed back over to the other vets and shut away inside the vehicle, was Blades finally released. He scrambled to his pedes immediately, trying to make a run for the truck, but a fast servo caught him by the back of the neck, dragging him away to one of the other vans.
"...I'm sorry, soldier," Onslaught gruffly apologized as he yanked a limp Blades to an armoured truck, "But you've wasted all your chances tonight."
He couldn't even think to be angry; suddenly, didn't know how to be enraged. The serval was right -he'd blown it. Clambering to the very back of the truck, Blades sat with his back to the others, burying his helm in his knees, feeling as if the world was shattering around his ears. Because, for a second time in his life, he'd failed again.