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Title: Stranger Things
Continuity: IDW/AU
Word Count: 1131
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Characters: Gasket Wing
Notes: No beta. Grammar abuse ahead.
Written for
tf_rare_pairing prompt: Wing/Gasket: helping hands
........
The warehouse bazaar was bustling with mechs. Wing had been sent from the Crystal City to Iacon to pick up some items on behalf of Dai Atlas. The winds of change were blowing, and discontent bubbled beneath the surface of their race’s populations. Plans were already in motion to move the Circle of Light off planet to preserve their culture for the inevitable war the council was sure would happen.
The items jangled in the small pouch as Wing slid it into his subspace pocket after paying the merchant. Special crystals found deep in the energon mines that were set into the eyes of their great swords and used to sync their sparks to their weapons. Items considered illegal to use or sell now a days. To his superior, Dai Atlas, they were gifts from Primus himself. Given from his own body, their planet. They were sacred. Buying them felt almost wrong, but the Circle of Light wanted to secure all the crystals still in circulation.
Once his transaction was completed, Wing wandered the bazaar, looking for any other merchants carrying these special crystals.
Iacon was nothing like his home. It was dingy, filled with a broad spectrum of mech builds and types. Wing walked slowly along the aisles, watching others with curious optics. Wondering what kind of life they led here. Were they happy? Miserable? Getting by?
A flicker of lavender in his peripheral caught his attention. He glanced over seeing drops of energon on the ground. Mechs walked past, even stepped in it, smearing and dispersing the out of place fluid.
Wing walked over, noticing that it made a droplet trail. He followed the trail closely. It cut between vendor booths, wove carefully along the edges of the aisles until it came to an abrupt stop. Whatever mech had been leaking, must have finally done something to stop the flow. Wing glanced around the area. The wall of the warehouse was to his front, and merchant booths on either side. The trail stopped a few steps away from the warehouse wall.
“Looking for the stabbed mech?”
Wing’s golden optics flicked their focus in the nearby merchant’s direction. “Stabbed mech?”
“Yeah, a little glitch that sneaks in the warehouse and steals from us. Someone stabbed him for his efforts. Deserved it, if you ask me.” The merchant then pointed. “He slipped out that set of doors. They always forget to patrol that entrance.”
Wing nodded to the merchant. “Thank you for the information.” He turned and made a b-line for the set of doors, which were indeed cracked open and unattended. Pushing the right door aside, he slipped outside the warehouse building. There was a large open docking area behind the warehouse. Wing walked out, searching for further evidence of the injured mech, but saw nothing. As he neared the edge of the dock, he peered down below. To his surprise, he saw a small group of mechs gathered around makeshift buildings in the far distance under an overpass highway. Were those meager, flimsy walled creations their homes?
“Don’t know why you’re following me, but if you don’t leave me alone I’ll shoot you!”
Wing felt a stab of a blunt object in the center of his back, pressed between the open spaces of his folded wings. “Shoot me in the back? When all I wanted to do was offer my assistance with your injury?”
The mech to his back snorted. “Right. And you’re going to buy rounds of energon for all the staving mechs in the gutters, too?”
“If I had the means, I certainly would.” Wing felt the object push into his plating.
“Look, I don’t want trouble. I just want you to go and leave me alone. Okay?”
Wing sighed air from his intakes. He really didn’t want to injure this mech further but with a violent threat being leveled at him he felt he had no choice. He suddenly dropped down at the knees, and pivoted on one leg, while making a wide sweep around and back with the other. The unknown mech landed with a loud clang, followed by a whining moan.
Turning to face the other mech, he saw all this mech had in his hand was a piece of broken pipe. He lay splayed out on the ground, wincing.
“Frag… That hurts…”
Wing then noticed energon seeping from a cut made in his lower abdomen. He knelt beside the mech, pulling out an emergency kit. “Tell me your name, please.”
“Gasket…fraaag.” Gasket’s fingers curled over the wound. “You made it worse…”
“I apologize, but you really shouldn’t threaten other mechs. Not all will back down.” Wing pulled a piece of strapping from the kit, and a cloth. “Lift your hips.”
Gasket frowned, but obeyed.
Wing slid the strapping under and then looped it around to his front. He then secured it and tightened the strap until the two sides of the cut plating neatly met. Wing carefully wiped away the energon that had leaked from the wound with the cloth. “This is temporary. You will require medical attention.”
“You’re funny,” Gasket said with a sardonic smile on his lips.
“How so?” Wing asked, genuinely confused. The wound was leaking; this meant an energon line inside was nicked, and would need to be repaired, which was something beyond his small kit’s capabilities.
Sighing air from his intakes, Gasket shook his head as he brightly smiled. “You aren’t from Iacon, are you?”
“No. I’m from the Crystal City.” Wing canted his head. “How is that relevant?”
“Guttermechs don’t get medical care.” Gasket ran his fingers over the strap around his middle. “Especially ones without a single credit to their name.”
“You’re charged fees for repairs in this city state?” Wing asked, disturbed.
“Yeah. And I don’t have any credits.” Gasket started to sit himself up. “Got stabbed trying to steal a set of capacitors I was gonna pawn.”
Wing moved with speed and precision, scooping up the apparently homeless mech into his grasp and standing. “I have credits. Where is the nearest facility?”
“W-what?” Gasket stared up at Wing, mouth gaping.
“I will pay for your repairs. Tell me where to take you,” Wing replied.
A look of shame suddenly shadowed Gasket’s face. “Just put me down. I’ll be okay. I don’t need your help.”
“Everyone needs help from time to time. Now is your time,” Wing replied. “Now please, where do I need to take you?”
Crystal blue optics stared up at Wing with humbled awe. “Ah…Ten blocks north of here is a clinic,” Gasket finally replied.
Wing smiled down at him. “True Cybertronians look out for one another, no matter the class, body type, or circumstances.”
Gasket then grinned. “You are SO not from here,” he replied laughing. “But thanks.”
Continuity: IDW/AU
Word Count: 1131
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Characters: Gasket Wing
Notes: No beta. Grammar abuse ahead.
Written for
tf_rare_pairing prompt: Wing/Gasket: helping hands........
The warehouse bazaar was bustling with mechs. Wing had been sent from the Crystal City to Iacon to pick up some items on behalf of Dai Atlas. The winds of change were blowing, and discontent bubbled beneath the surface of their race’s populations. Plans were already in motion to move the Circle of Light off planet to preserve their culture for the inevitable war the council was sure would happen.
The items jangled in the small pouch as Wing slid it into his subspace pocket after paying the merchant. Special crystals found deep in the energon mines that were set into the eyes of their great swords and used to sync their sparks to their weapons. Items considered illegal to use or sell now a days. To his superior, Dai Atlas, they were gifts from Primus himself. Given from his own body, their planet. They were sacred. Buying them felt almost wrong, but the Circle of Light wanted to secure all the crystals still in circulation.
Once his transaction was completed, Wing wandered the bazaar, looking for any other merchants carrying these special crystals.
Iacon was nothing like his home. It was dingy, filled with a broad spectrum of mech builds and types. Wing walked slowly along the aisles, watching others with curious optics. Wondering what kind of life they led here. Were they happy? Miserable? Getting by?
A flicker of lavender in his peripheral caught his attention. He glanced over seeing drops of energon on the ground. Mechs walked past, even stepped in it, smearing and dispersing the out of place fluid.
Wing walked over, noticing that it made a droplet trail. He followed the trail closely. It cut between vendor booths, wove carefully along the edges of the aisles until it came to an abrupt stop. Whatever mech had been leaking, must have finally done something to stop the flow. Wing glanced around the area. The wall of the warehouse was to his front, and merchant booths on either side. The trail stopped a few steps away from the warehouse wall.
“Looking for the stabbed mech?”
Wing’s golden optics flicked their focus in the nearby merchant’s direction. “Stabbed mech?”
“Yeah, a little glitch that sneaks in the warehouse and steals from us. Someone stabbed him for his efforts. Deserved it, if you ask me.” The merchant then pointed. “He slipped out that set of doors. They always forget to patrol that entrance.”
Wing nodded to the merchant. “Thank you for the information.” He turned and made a b-line for the set of doors, which were indeed cracked open and unattended. Pushing the right door aside, he slipped outside the warehouse building. There was a large open docking area behind the warehouse. Wing walked out, searching for further evidence of the injured mech, but saw nothing. As he neared the edge of the dock, he peered down below. To his surprise, he saw a small group of mechs gathered around makeshift buildings in the far distance under an overpass highway. Were those meager, flimsy walled creations their homes?
“Don’t know why you’re following me, but if you don’t leave me alone I’ll shoot you!”
Wing felt a stab of a blunt object in the center of his back, pressed between the open spaces of his folded wings. “Shoot me in the back? When all I wanted to do was offer my assistance with your injury?”
The mech to his back snorted. “Right. And you’re going to buy rounds of energon for all the staving mechs in the gutters, too?”
“If I had the means, I certainly would.” Wing felt the object push into his plating.
“Look, I don’t want trouble. I just want you to go and leave me alone. Okay?”
Wing sighed air from his intakes. He really didn’t want to injure this mech further but with a violent threat being leveled at him he felt he had no choice. He suddenly dropped down at the knees, and pivoted on one leg, while making a wide sweep around and back with the other. The unknown mech landed with a loud clang, followed by a whining moan.
Turning to face the other mech, he saw all this mech had in his hand was a piece of broken pipe. He lay splayed out on the ground, wincing.
“Frag… That hurts…”
Wing then noticed energon seeping from a cut made in his lower abdomen. He knelt beside the mech, pulling out an emergency kit. “Tell me your name, please.”
“Gasket…fraaag.” Gasket’s fingers curled over the wound. “You made it worse…”
“I apologize, but you really shouldn’t threaten other mechs. Not all will back down.” Wing pulled a piece of strapping from the kit, and a cloth. “Lift your hips.”
Gasket frowned, but obeyed.
Wing slid the strapping under and then looped it around to his front. He then secured it and tightened the strap until the two sides of the cut plating neatly met. Wing carefully wiped away the energon that had leaked from the wound with the cloth. “This is temporary. You will require medical attention.”
“You’re funny,” Gasket said with a sardonic smile on his lips.
“How so?” Wing asked, genuinely confused. The wound was leaking; this meant an energon line inside was nicked, and would need to be repaired, which was something beyond his small kit’s capabilities.
Sighing air from his intakes, Gasket shook his head as he brightly smiled. “You aren’t from Iacon, are you?”
“No. I’m from the Crystal City.” Wing canted his head. “How is that relevant?”
“Guttermechs don’t get medical care.” Gasket ran his fingers over the strap around his middle. “Especially ones without a single credit to their name.”
“You’re charged fees for repairs in this city state?” Wing asked, disturbed.
“Yeah. And I don’t have any credits.” Gasket started to sit himself up. “Got stabbed trying to steal a set of capacitors I was gonna pawn.”
Wing moved with speed and precision, scooping up the apparently homeless mech into his grasp and standing. “I have credits. Where is the nearest facility?”
“W-what?” Gasket stared up at Wing, mouth gaping.
“I will pay for your repairs. Tell me where to take you,” Wing replied.
A look of shame suddenly shadowed Gasket’s face. “Just put me down. I’ll be okay. I don’t need your help.”
“Everyone needs help from time to time. Now is your time,” Wing replied. “Now please, where do I need to take you?”
Crystal blue optics stared up at Wing with humbled awe. “Ah…Ten blocks north of here is a clinic,” Gasket finally replied.
Wing smiled down at him. “True Cybertronians look out for one another, no matter the class, body type, or circumstances.”
Gasket then grinned. “You are SO not from here,” he replied laughing. “But thanks.”
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