c h o i c e s

First Aid felt his spark sink. Perhaps it was wilting, even. This was all becoming too real. It wasn’t a nightmare, like he had hoped it was– it was reality. And reality was binding. 

He will be sharing a room with Tarn? That made his plating crawl.

“..Where will I sleep?” 

It was true. Medics had been picked off slowly throughout the course of the war. It seemed like that was the case of Decepticons as well. If you got rid of the medics, then you could take down the entire army. 

A horrifying thing, really. 

“And Ratchet was already taken.” 

But truly, who had it worse here? Ratchet was with Megatron. 

“Naturally, our Lord had first choice.” Tarn picked up his pace, gesturing as the ship came into view. “Welcome to your new home, little medic.” Hed led him onto the ship, and through the halls.

“Why me?” First Aid asked lowly. “Why did you choose me?” First Aid wasn’t special. There wasn’t anything to note. He hadn’t done anything worthy of wanting to be claimed. 

So why was Tarn taking him.

Questions, that First Aid assumed would go unanswered. 

He scribbled out a note as quickly as possible. Telling Ratchet he loved him. To stay strong. That he would try to do the same. 

“You’re small and easily overpowered,” he answered absently, accepting the note to pass along later. “Also Nickel requires help in the Peaceful Tyranny’s medbay and requested that I choose a medic if possible.”

“Can I at least tell Ratchet?” he rasped out. He didn’t have many friends. Not in war. Most of his friends died. But Ratchet… 

Ratchet was special to him.

“So he doesn’t think I died?” 

“He’s already been claimed,” Tarn answered shortly. He’d seen the list before he’d chosen the little medic for himself, and Ratchet had been chosen by Lord Megatron himself as a replacement for the killed Prime.

“Darling. Sweetspark. Conjunx of my spark.” 

A wry smile.

“I can take care of myself.” 

“And this is a neutral commune.” 

“And you’re thinking like a Decepticon.” 

First Aid rolled his eyes. 

“That is not how we build trust here.” 

“I suppose so. Got some new patients in today. They’re a little violent. Not very used to being around Autobots, I suppose.” 

First Aid hummed, satisfied.

“Good.” 

“Must I always spell things out with you?” First Aid huffed. 

He tapped at his foot impatiently. “Kiss.” 

“NNNnnnghh. Not the attention I’m looking for!”