The heaving wonder was done with his tantrum. A shattered energon glass in his clawed digits, a new injury stung his servos. A bright fuchsia drained from his talons and leaked onto the once clean floor below them. Shards of glass burrowed in his hand and cut his metallic flesh open. Tailgate stood there, stunned beyond his own comprehension in awe as the rage in Cyclonuses eyes subsided like tsunami. The mechs that had been hanging him upside down were gone now, they ran away as soon as the first punch was flown. Cyclonus lifted Tailgate by his arms to meet his optics.
"Are you alright" he asked ignoring the gushing wound to his left.
"Am I alright? What about you?!" Tailgate was exaggerating in Cyclonuses opinion; he had far worse injuries in the past.
"I'm taking you to the nurses office grab your things." Cyclonus said setting Tailgate down. Tailgate made a move to argue, but Cyclonus waved him off.
"Worry about my injuries later." Cyclonus grunted grabbing a nearly shattered pile of data pads lying on the ground. As they walked down to the nurse's office Tailgate sneaked small worried glances to the lavender Mech walking beside him, red irises stared dead ahead. Cyclonus could feel the tension in the air like a mist. He sighed internally and focused on the path before them, he didn't need the pain in his left servo distracting him from a simple task such as this one. When they made their way into the nurse's office optics bore into them with obstructed curiosity. An old femme, with a faded purple paintjob and plump features, shifted her optics from Tailgate to Cyclonus.
"Uhm, we had a bit of a scuffle…could you patch my friend up by any chance?" Tailgate asked to break the tense and heavy silence that weighed down on them like tons and tons of rock. The femme nodded and guided Cyclonus to a medical berth for recuperation. Cyclonus sat down and watched her work with up most seriousness; he needed to have a little chat with Tailgate about the recent events. He had plenty of questions in store for the little bot.
"There we go, all done. Be careful not to jostle yourself now." The nurse stood and wiped her servos with a wash rag pulled from her sub space pocket. Tailgate sat on another berth just behind Cyclonus hands tucked between his legs in a nervous gesture, he didn't like relying on other bots for something he could surely supply himself; in this case it was self-defense. His helm hung low and his shoulders hunched in self-aggression, he didn't like asking to borrow money or anything else really; even from Ratchet, he didn't like being a helpless little mini-bot but as luck had it, he was evidently stuck that way. The Nurse made her way to Tailgate and examined his ankle joint. It seemed functional, minimal damage besides a few dents here and there, but nothing severe. Tailgate mumbled a nearly inaudible thank-you and was off and out the door. He didn't bother waiting for Cyclonus, as he had other ways of dealing with his stress. The library was one of the few places he indulged himself; besides reading, he didn't have any other hobbies.
As far as he was concerned he didn't have any other reasons to have any other hobbies. Aspiring to be a bomb disposal expert, a career that was most certainly earned by high grades and expertise, both of which he had, was his ultimate goal and he didn't have the time to waist. For someone so small, Tailgate was extremely bright; his intelligence was hardly rivaled by his peers. His timid nature was something to be put into question, he was always nervous. He looked both ways before crossing the street and he always took public access vehicles. He was much too scared of being run over by a road hog to drive the normal way to school. Although he didn't like being a scared fright-filled mini-bot, he couldn't necessarily help himself.
He sifted through the data pad he had just pulled from the shelf it was about the civil war that had almost started in the capital of the planet. This piqued his interest, he had always heard stories and legends of two extremely brave mechs, one a prime one a gladiator. He shivered in anticipation. He had seen plenty of movies about the old civil war. It was one the most violent and mysterious war they had on Cybertron. His father always told him legends of Optimus Prime, one bot he had always looked up to below his father, whom he still loved and admired. Tailgate continued to skim the shelves and found, to his horror, Cyclonus looking around as he turned a corner. Tailgate froze in his tracks, the other bot turned and looked his way. Cyclonus took cautious steps to the other little mech, carefully avoiding any startling movement that might make his disappear again. Cyclonus wasn't much of a seeker as he found the job was always done by extremely attractive and deceitful mechs, he didn't feel like being classified in such a group. He was an excellent tracker though, that was one thing he could say about himself.
"Calm down Tailgate, I'm not here to be mad at you, come here." Cyclonus held his hand out like he was beckoning a sparkling. Tailgate was certainly the most nervous around mechs ten times his size (for reasons he would rather not voice) but when it came to Cyclonus it felt different.
"Right, sure, no problem," Tailgate mumbled as he went to the front desk to check his data pad out. Cyclonus followed right behind careful to catch up with the little bot. the librarian scanned the pad in handed it back to Tailgate without a word being said. Apparently there was some silent mutual agreement not to converse with one another in the large spacious room; hundreds of shelves over ninety feet tall. It looked old yet somewhat nice and cozy.
As the pair walked out of the library's sliding glass doors Ratchet drove up in a hurry, it looked to be an emergency.
"The school called me as soon as it happened, what's going on? Is Tailgate alright?" all the questions came at once, before Tailgate could stop him, Ratchet picked him up under his arms and turned him around for examination.
"Ratchet- stop I'm fine! Ack- if you keep jostling me I'm gonna empty all of my morning energon on you!" Tailgate wailed trying to pry the medics arms off of him. The medic scowled, but put Tailgate down at his requests.
"I just got into a little scuffle that's all, and I have a feeling they won't be messing with after what Cyclonus did to them. Ratchet looked at the towering lavender mech with suspicious curiosity.
"I didn't do much, just a fist to the wall and a few threats, nothing really." he admitted shrugging casually. Ratchet let out a spectacle hum, but let it go either way. In truth Cyclonus didn't sit very well with Ratchet, and he didn't trust large scary looking mechs as far as he was concerned, but he did help Tailgate…and he wasn't in too much of bad mood than he had seen him before when Tailgate did something relatively…odd. Maybe Cyclonus wasn't so bad, maybe.
"Well I'll be staying with you at your flat for a while Tailgate, just so you'll have someone looking after you, besides Cyclonus." Tailgate perked his helm and clasped his servos together. He always loved it when Ratchet stayed over; he had always been a second carrier to him. The idea of having to mechs over for however long made him want to leap for joy. However he kept his ecstatic exclamations to himself.
"Wow, that's great Ratchet! Thanks!" Tailgate said squeezing his little white fists next to his covered cheek plates.
"Sure, but don't get too excited I'm not coming alone." Ratchet said crossing his arms. Just before he could ask who else was coming, a very familiar looking truck pulled up next to them. As he transformed, Orion looked to Tailgate with an unreadable expression. Though the face mask didn't help much, it made Tailgate wondered if that's what other bots felt like when they talked to him.
"Hello again Tailgate, and I see you friend has some new bruises. You certainly do have a knack for finding trouble don't you?" Cyclonus merely narrowed his optics and skipped a verbal response, he was much too exhausted to try to fight with the police-bot.
"So are you coming to stay too?" Tailgate asked innocently, trying to hide his mischievous curiosity.
"If you'll have me; I don't want to make myself a burden." Orion said, optics toning down to a soft glow.
"Of course! The more the merrier!" Tailgate exclaimed clapping his servos excitedly.
"Now all we have to do his find bedding arrangements." Ratchet scratching his helm thoughtfully.