Privacy
11
Master's Brother holding him tight. A safe, secure connection, momentary shelter from the outside world. New Master looking puzzled and disappointed. Master's Brother manipulating something on his frame, and New Master waiting in the far side of the room for something to happen.
Flashes.
Red and white mechs, a copter, a sleek car, and a motorcycle.
Dust. Defeat. A larger blue mech abandoning them, saying meaningless words, a never-kept promise.
"Nooo…"
Memories of Past Master, laughing. Taking pride and joy in his panic as he's miserably trying to reach for his mates, a cruel laughter the only reply. A massive spike entering him, forcing him to remember whom he had lost, who were the mates who had betrayed him.
But… No spike? No spike, only Master's Brother, holding him down, gently turning his face in the other direction when he tries to catch New Master's optics. Familiar voice from an unfamiliar vocalizer: "I'm sorry. We should have thought about that…"
12
"What the frag happened?" Flatline rushed into the room.
"I think 'frag' was the only thing that didn't happen," Leader replied. "We all brilliantly forgot to ask ourselves one little question. Why had his self-identification been looped that way?"
"Anything that was done to him," Shine whispered, so as not to scare the mech in his lap even more, "was done by Decepticons. To do him harm."
"But how?" Flatline demanded, too loud. Shine hushed him.
"By reminding him," Leader replied quietly. "Let's call things by their names. Not only was he raped regularly, but each time he was forced to remember who he had been before the defeat. His bleeding face had been rubbed into the fact he used to be a valued medic, that he was separated from his gestalt…"
"How do you know he was in a gestalt?" Flatline and Shine asked in unison.
"When I asked who he had served with, he indicated at the gestalt connection point, among other parts. I admit I'm not an expert of war technology, neither am I a body language translator…" He fell silent as he noticed the mostly red medic's almost inaudible beeps for help.
"I think I know where to look for answers," Flatline said, leaving the room. "But Leader, you won't like what I will come up with."
"Just get lost," Shine murmured to one doctor, while still holding the other in a tight hug.
Seeing he would not reject his touch, Leader sat down next to his newfound medic, and gently caressed the plug-points of the gestalt connection. "Flatline was right," he whispered. "I hate negotiating with Autobots. I hate coordinating joint missions. But I'm not Leader of our hub to just… reject responsibility."