Feral Fears pt. 6
Transformers x Human
18+
No off-leash dogs allowed on the premises.
[Prev] [N/A]
Ratchet had to give the human a blood draw in order to have a good basis for their health while instructing the Science Department of the issue at hand and asking if it would be possible to synthesize something nutrient dense for them to consume. He had to use the smallest needle he had available, one that would have been used for nmenosugery, and two mechs had to hold the human down. Ratchet decided the fattiest part would be the least painful, and practically punched a hole in the human's rear.
The scream was so loud and shrill, First Aid's visor feed glitched out, and Ambulon felt like his dentae were going to buzz out of his oral cavity.
They then had to keep the human pinned while looking over the arm they were cradling close. Ratchet stared at the scan of the staircase fracture they had snapped back into place and bound in rag and tape, before looking over at the already pained and pissed human.
It was… healing, but not well. Not… set. Almost perfect, but if what he remembers from Earth still applied, then… this could cause lifelong issues if not properly fixed.
“Hold them still. Don't let them fight out of this.”
Ambulon and First Aid both braced. Ambulon opted to entirely deactivate his audial sensors for the moment, knowing what was about to happen. The two holoforms pressed the human down against the floor of the bin, putting them into a medical hold.
‘Dr. Atchet’ mimed taking a breath. “Ready? This is going to hurt. One-”
SNAPKRAKKRAK.
This screech was more violent, and the human kicked and bit, wailing as the medic re-broke their delicate bones. Ratchet's holomatter form then quickly went about re-setting the ulna and radius, casting the arm, looping a sling, everything he could.
“We will work on what we can to try and synthesize some painkillers for you. Try to relax. I'm sorry we had to do this.”
He spoke with… a bit more delicate nature than normal. Humans were frail, skittish things and this one… this human behaved more like a beaten spark hound. Violent and hateful and scared. Feral and fierce. Hell, when they'd discovered the human had eaten energon, they had to… purge the stomach with the thinnest tube and a small amount of water, as everything else would surely kill them. The human fought that as well.
Once all was done, Ratchet lowered his hand in, and one by one, the… “humans” climbed aboard, and he snatched the medics out before the human could get to their feet. Growling and snarling.
“Should we have taken their weapons…?” Ambulon asked, peering silently at the human. His scuffed paint refracted oddly in the light.
Ratchet shook his helm.
“No, best not to. They're the smallest thing on this ship, surrounded by towering mechanical creatures. We can talk to it, but it won't reply. That tells us something's scrambled its little processor, crossed its fleshy wires. Let it be armed. It's small weapons that won't hurt us too badly, and lets them feel they have some sense of control or power. Plus, it will hopefully keep some of the crew from feeling grabby.” He looked back at the human. “Again, we're… sorry that we had to do that. It was with your best interest in mind.”
The responding snarl was expected. He didn't hold it against them too much. If some titan held him down and jabbed him with a needle the size of his digit, he'd be in a sour mood as well.
—
Hate.
Hate, Hate, hate, all the little human knew was HATE.
They were vibrating in rage, the anger roiling in them so hot and molten that it was like liquid lead boiled in their veins.
Of course. They hurt them. This was probably some form of exotic pet trade or something. The fucking metal monsters were patching them up and “fixing” them to make them more palatable to sell. Like cropping a dog's ears or declawing a cat.
Fuck them. They weren't letting themself get declawed.
The stupid, bastarding robots had turned and were studying something on one of the tables they guessed were around. Distracted and guard low.
Which was PERFECT for the human.
Digging through their pack, they pulled out those heavy-duty magnets they'd scrounged and lobbed one over the side of the trash bin or whatever they were in. Waiting until it latched, they tugged on the attached wire rope and began climbing. It was hard. A horrible, painful thing that jarred their arm. But they weren't stopping. The fear had distracted them from their hunger, but it was getting dire. They had pumped their stomach, flushed them out with water and saline, and now what little had been in them originally was gone.
They didn't care if that glowing shit had been toxic, they're STARVING. And for one glorious moment, they had felt full. It had tasted like… static and starlight and batteries but it was something. Something, something, SOMETHING.
The human snarled, looping another chunk of wire up around their good arm and kept their feet planted, slowly inching their way up further.
They weren't a toy. A pet, a friend, a plaything, a prisoner. They didn't want this. They wanted nothing to do with any of these bastards-
They squeaked, squirming and kicking, hissing and flailing even though it hurt. Two metal digits had plucked them up by their raggedy clothes, and when they squirmed to wriggle free, a hand cupped under them.
The human turned and glared. Snarled at the patchy, shitty looking robot.
“I don't think that's the best idea. Come on, back in the bin with you, little human-”
—
“-OW!!”
Ratchet turned just in time to see that little blade finish its arc. First Aid rushed over to help restrain the human while Ambulon covered the spot near his optics that the human nicked.
“Ratchet, maybe sedation is honestly the best course of action.”
“Can't. We don't have many human-safe things.”
“Aren't humans like… fleshy shockmites?? They can survive anything!” Ambulon queries. The CMO shakes his helm.
“Not while it's like this. Maybe we can get Rung back in here…-”
“I don't think that's a good idea. Remember how it screamed at him? I don't even know what half the words it said meant but I understand the rage.”
Ratchet grumbled finally, taking the human and placing it on the table once more. The little organic scrambled to their feet, but Ratchet blocked it in with his arms on either side.
“Alright, listen here. Polite medic is out the airlock. You are going to stop hurting my medics while you are in my med bay, or I will talk to Ultra Magnus about keeping you in a box with a lid and air holes. How about that??”
The human spat on him, before yanking out another makeshift spear from god knows where- and Ratchet wondered if maybe he should have listened to Ambulon. He retracted his arm, but not quick enough, and Primus, he had to hand it to the little bastard, they knew their soft spots. Right between two joints where there was a pain sensor, the spear head stabbed in and sliced a tube, spilling energon in a small leak.
However… Ratchet was getting very fed up. And well… he snapped.
He didn't hit- Primus, he knew better. He would have atomized them into a gory smear on the metal surface. However, the human scrambled to slip through the gap he'd made. And if they did, it would cause a panic. He slammed his arm back down in place, just barely missing the little organic, and making the surface vibrate. Snarling, faceplate twisted into something that looked rather severe, he did the only thing his processor offered in such a moment.
“SIT DOWN AND BEHAVE, DAMNIT!”
The scene that followed was… interesting.
The human just… shut down. Their face going pale and almost looking grey. Their hands shook, and they just… collapsed, like a string holding them up had snapped. They fell onto their ass and just… sat. Stiff but limp all at once. They clung to the spear, but didn't move, and their eyes looked far away.
Ratchet stared. Ambulon stared. First Aid stared. Skids, who had swung by because he wanted to witness the little demon everyone was talking about, stared. It was like the fierce little human's engine had been ripped out, and they were stuck now in idle, or had even just… shut down.
Ratchet sighed. Moved his arm up and away. The human stayed seated, even as he moved to start repairing the still-bleeding line.
“Something tells me we are going to find out what's wrong with the little earthling is worse than we imagine,” he grumbled, Skids peering over his shoulder. The hyper-learner waved a hand in front of them and other than flinching, the human didn't move.
“...Stand up.”
Ratchet watched, optic cycling in mild fascination as the human got to their feet. Only to then, in the same, commanding tone, tell it to sit back down. Which it did without fuss.
“I didn't hit it,” Ratchet murmured. “It shouldn't have been stunned by my arm, as it didn't get injured…”
Skids shook his head. “It's not… stunned. It's obeying.” He looked over at the medic, and then the others.
“This stays between us and probably Rung. But someone trained this human.”
“If it's trained, why is it attacking us?” First Aid asked, peeking closer. “I thought these were… yknow. Sentient. And it's vicious.”
“It was probably trained for all sorts of reasons. But my first two thoughts on something being trained AND highly aggressive are usually battle. They trained it to fight.”
“...Fight us?? The giant, far more intelligent, eons old cybertronians?” Ambulon asked, bewildered. His self-healing had kicked in, and the cut to his optic was already almost patched.
Dread settled into Ratchet's tanks when he remembered what happened to his first holo-matter form.
“No,” he rasped, looking back at the human. The vacancy in its eyes slowly fading. “It was trained to attack humans.”
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Next: N/A
