#muckabout

.”The new bot was no bigger than Rodimus, hugging a loose, poorly welded panel over his abdomen. It was a young mech, still growing into his armor. He stepped in without a word, seeming to know exactly where to go without orders, walking past Rodimus to hop up on the vacant berth, pedes barely reaching the ground. He looked up at no one, staring down at the floor vacantly, his gaze hollow and lifeless.

   Rodimus sidled up to the new mech, friendly as ever. "Hey, you're pretty young. What's wrong?" He asked, trying to get the mech to speak. Seeing anyone around his age in this place was a treat. A potential friend who would understand what he was going though, but the young mech turned away from Rodimus immediately, trying hard not to look at anyone or anything in the room that wasn't the floor. He was pretty beat up, probably one of the bots who had joined Galvatron during their attack on the other cities.

   "You heard the mech" Scalpel prodded, very little bedside manner. "If you say what's wrong then it saves me a scrap load of wasted time."

   Again, nothing. His shoulders raised, helm lowering, body language proving that he was trying to hide from the world around him.

   "This is why no one took you in, Muckup! You like to make this slag harder on all of us!" Scalpel growled, looking back at Rodimus as if expecting the mech to agree with him that the other was being purposely stubborn.

   "Be nice. It's not easy being a mech our age in this place." Rodimus scolded the little bug, turning his attention back to the injured one. "You don't have to talk to me, but I'm a really good listener. I've heard all kinds of things too. maybe you can just point to what the problem is?" Tentatively, he touched the seeker's shoulder, "It's ok to be afraid"

   Muckup released a sharp gasp upon being touched, servos snapping out of their tightly folded knot against his chest only to be held up defensively. He looked back at Rodimus with the first hint of any emotion in his optics since he had walked in; absolute horror. Only when he had had the chance to register that he wasn't being hurt, his servos quickly clasped back down onto the botched weld job over his abdomen, looking back down to it frantically. The poor thing was nearly shaking, trying so hard not to let it show. He was well aware that their leader was sharing the room with them, and it only added to the pressure of needing to be strong. 

   "... It's not okay." Muck argued quietly, trying not to be heard by the others, his voice just a whisper for Rodimus to hear. "Fear is weakness. Weak bots offline.." His horror started to fade into faint trust, realizing that this strange fiery mech wasn't like the others. He stared in bewilderment at him for a klick or two before his gaze dropped down to Scalpel once more, who was now trying to shove his way between them to get on with the process. "I know I'm not wanted here. I wouldn't have come in again unless it was serious.. I tried to fix it myself but I--"  

   "But you did a rubbish job!" the medic scolded, waving a sharp claw at him before inspecting the plate. It wasn't even a proper repair patch, just a chunk of scrap metal that had been found, most likely off of a fallen enemy.  The young mech's shoulders fell, and Rodimus could practically watch the will power quickly draining out of him. He wanted to disappear.

   "Fear isnt weakness. Everyone is afraid of something. It's in overcoming the fear where strength is found. You can't compare yourself to these.. war mongrel mechs. You're young, you have time and experiences before you can have that power. Frag, look at me. I'm just a speaker for Primus. I can't fight, I tried to beat Galvatron with a banner pole and my bare servos." He offered a warm smile, trying to encourage. Poor mech.

   Rodimus's words were listened to openly, trying to cling to any thoughts that weren't Scalpel digging those sharp claws through the welds. Muckup's optics widened slightly in awe, finally realizing why Rodimus looked so familiar. "You're.. the bot who tried to stop our leader?" he echoed, a touch of life returning to that tired face. "I saw you, out there standing against him. I saw them take you. I wasn't with the others when they returned, I got left behind because.." His optics flicked back to Scalpel only for a second, before deciding that they didn't want to see him work. "But.. I saw them strap you up. I thought they were going to burn you. Why would he let a speaker of Primus live? Your god must really like you.. That must be nice."

   A quick yelp slipped out between them, Scalpel quickly covering his mouth to silence it. As the makeshift plate fell away, they were met with a gruesome sight. Muck’s denta locked in pain as a stifled whimper escaped him, his frame completely freezing to avoid making it any worse. The mech's abdominal plating had been sliced open wide, protoform visible and split open as well.  As if the gash alone wasn’t enough to churn the strongest of tanks, his internals were revealed in clear view, shifting and struggling not to spill right out of his frame now that the only support had been taken away. One look into Scalpel’s optics, and Rodimus knew that the young mech shouldn't have still been online with that kind of injury, but by some miracle he had made it, even after avoiding the med bay where he seemed to be most unwanted.

   "Ah.. Wow... look at you.” Rodimus hesitated, staring agape at the wound only for a moment before bringing his focus back to Muck, knowing what needed to be done. “You're so strong. So much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Not any much could have survived this, or made it all the way home. Still walking around like a champ." He forced a smile, and offered soothing petting to the mech's helm as he began telling the seeker a story of his own experiences in the past, hoping to keep him distracted. 

   Scalpel remained dead silent during the repair job, only after summoning Conduit, the other medic, over to bring him supplies. It had been a long time since he had faced an injury like this one, and he didn't have it in his spark to tell Rodimus that the mech most likely wouldn't make it. 

  Muckup had ended up shutting his optics tightly, gritting his denta while being worked on, occasionally peeking one open to look up at Rodimus and make sure he knew he was listening. It hurt too much to talk back, at least until the pain killers set in. When they did, the bot seemed to finally relax, lightly touching Rodimus's servo, his voice tired and weak. "I don't really mean to change the subject back to me again," he muttered, looking back to the bot who had been so kind to him. Rodimus was so nice, it was the first time he felt as though he could trust someone. "But Ive got this sinking feeling in my gut that I... might not be around much longer. That could just be my internals falling out.” He glanced away for a moment, his optics shutting in a wince before forcing himself to look back once more. “Can I ask you to do me a favour? I don't have any family left. My friends offlined when we were sparklings. If I offline, nobody is even going to know I existed.. I know you don't know me, but, I don’t want to be remembered as Muckup to the only person who knew me. Muckaround, or Muckabout, anything but Muckup. I don’t want to be remembered as a mistake."

Rodimus kept his gaze with sorrow in his own, gripping the younger mech’s servo with a determined strength, as though trying to siphon his own will power into the bot who looked so close to giving up hope. “You’re not a mistake. When you wake up, I’ll be here. You’re not going anywhere. Let’s just stick with Muck, until we can come up with something better, together. Deal?”

 The seeker didn’t have much of a chance to answer. His optics offlined again to try and stay focused on being conscious for as long as possible, but shortly after Rodimus had finished talking, he was out. It had just been too much strain on such a young and weary bot, and his chassis needed to rest.

   Several hours passed before Scalpel set down his tools, collapsing. His digits ached, servo joints sore, rubbing his face tiredly. This wasn't supposed to become such an emotional roller coaster. They sat in silence for a good while, but eventually, the arachnicon set his tired optics back on Rodimus, who had been at the edge of his seat the entire time, his servo never once letting go of the unconscious seeker’s.