#transformers defensor

Due to Hot Spots expert strategizing and the combined reconnaissance efforts of Blades and Groove, the team had been able to determine when guard shifts ended and new ones began, at the warehouse the device was being kept. The switch in shifts allowed you an opening to sneak past undetected, too small compared to the cons to be extremely noticeable in such an environment. The team was taking the uh- alternate route. Clearing out rooms and sweeping hallways to cover behind you as you snuck into the main holding area.

It was empty, and that alone should’ve immediately set off your suspicion. Shift change or not, would they really leave this place without anyone guarding it at all? You internally curse yourself. Stupid decision, stupid stressful situations! Why- WHY would they leave it unguarded??- With the rest of the team fallen behind, you continued onward without heeding the warning signs. Today just seems like your lucky day.

Making your way into the device was easier than it should’ve been. Slipping between the metal plates, it was hardly difficult. The hair on your body stuck up as you walked through what felt like a lightning storm- full of electrical currents reaching out in arcs to trail over your flesh. It was beautiful in a way, almost enough to mesmerize you, had the sudden sound of Decepticon voices not been in the distance.

You calmed yourself and searched quickly for anything that could indicate an off switch- ‘Damn this Cybertronian tech. How unintuitive. How exactly is a little human supposed to find anything in here?? It’s all alien garbled nonsense and-‘

You screamed.

Streetwise and Rook were the first to react, being closest to the front. Metal clanged so loud it nearly ruptured your eardrums as they came barreling through two massive garage doors into the main warehouse, launching them in the process. You were thrashing in a Decepticons servo screaming bloody murder, a piece of the device lay broken on the ground beneath you. ‘He must’ve grabbed you by ripping the side off.’ It doesn’t exactly take Streetwise long to piece together what happened given how the con is cackling about catching the “little human pet”.

Having noticed the pissed Autobots that have entered the room following your obnoxious screeching, the con chucked you to the side like garbage. Bastard. Didn’t matter that you had almost turned off his precious masters device apparently. Making it unable to be used due to- what did First Aid say again? Lack of charge? Something like that. Hard to remember when you’d just had your body thrown like a ragdoll.

You shake your head, brought back to the present after recounting how you even ended up here- almost turned into a human jelly splatter painting on a warehouse wall. Your head is throbbing, the ringing in your ears is so loud you grip your head for relief. Too much noise- metal clanging and blaster fire doesn’t aid your current predicament.

Squinting and barely able to make out a massive bot form ahead of you as they beat the living scrap out of another bot. You’re surprised you’re alive given the size and strength difference. And ya know- metal vs bone.

If you had been able to even move at the time, your instincts would’ve demanded you high-tail it out of there. But a surge of worry flooded your system enough to overwrite your pain for a split second. A bot this big? How did you guys not notice, or hear anything at all? There were no indications that this place was being this heavily protected, and okay maybe you should’ve been a bit more suspicious before.

You’d been told stories by the team about other combiners, namely the Protectobots rival, Bruticus. Although, rival is probably a strong way of putting it. The Combaticons a formidable combat unit both in formation and out. Hot Spot and the others having made it vehemently clear that you were never going to present on a mission if any of them would even possibly be there. They were never going to risk you getting caught and potentially find yourself in the hands of their so called “medic”, someone Aid seemed particularly serious about.

For a moment, your heart nearly stopped at the idea of that exact con before you. You’d heard of their “accolades”, you knew how terrifying they were. You shake your head as hard as you can, desperately trying to clear your vision after the tears had been knocked out of you. It isn’t him right? It can’t be. Please don’t let the bot he’s laying into be one of yours-

Wait, is that Defensor?- You slide down the wall in a dubious relief. He dwarfs this entire space. When had they combined? Hold on, why did they combined at all? You’re happy it isn’t that walking nightmare Bruticus but, surely this one con would’ve been toast against six bots, even if First Aid doesn’t join the fighting portion. He’s a sweet pacifist by nature but definitely no push over, they’d do well to remember that. Something you always did admire about him.. no not right now! Daydream later! Mission first!

‘A simple mission’, the ironic thought rings through your skull as you regain yourself. Luckily, you seem to not have any broken bones. Guess that con needs to brush up on his aim. Probably won’t have the ability to after Defensor is done with him though.

Just as Defensor is about to end what can only be described as a fly-swatting, the con makes a beeline for an exit, luckily in the opposite direction from you. Ducking under machinery and behind beams to avoid the onslaught (pun intended) from the now angrier than you thought possible Defensor.

“You Autobots didn’t really think Lord Megatron would leave this place unarmed, did you? We watched you for weeks! Haha! Have fun saving your little pet!” The con slips under a door just as it closes, and before any further chase can occur you all become painfully aware of the wretched noise the device begins to emanate. Nails on a chalkboard doesn’t begin to cut it in terms of a description- and you only just recovered from the horrible noises from before. There’s a whirling, sort of wind up noise coming from the now sliced in twain machine, immediately triggering the part of your brain familiar with video game bombs. Logic says, this whole joint is about to go up, and you can barely move. Man- you just can’t catch a break today.

Now, you’ve seen Defensor before, but seeing such a titan prior does not mean it’s any less intimidating now. He glances at the device, then turns to you and kneels with an earthquake of a thud. Concerned and serious expression on his faceplate, your stomach does a summersault. When a massive servo reaches out to grab you for a second time today- distinctly larger than the last one- you nearly shirk away, pressing yourself into the wall out of reflex. Defensors optics only soften in response, worried and painfully aware he’s frightening you but not really having enough time to talk it out given the impending detonation of Megatrons latest toy.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” Such a large bot having a hushed tone should be illegal, gentle voice coaxing you to come forward like a hurt animal. It does little to settle the nerves in your belly. Or maybe that’s just the residual pain from before? Anyones guess.

It’s First Aid. You know that. The hand reaching for you is someone familiar and safe. Even still, it sends an instinctual shiver down your spine. Can’t help the involuntary tears welling up in your eyes. You know Defensor and the bots would never hurt you. They never have. Protecting you once you started going on missions and patrols with them. Modifying little areas of the base just for you. Always so careful around you, sweet to you. Honestly, they really do pamper you. Fondness creeps over you if you think about it for too long. Taking you on drives, and flights in Blades case. First Aid taking time to learn about human biology and culture. Streetwise chauffeuring you around the base on his shoulder plates, calling you endearing nicknames. Groove and Rook sharing their traditions and Hot Spot stories of their past, their home with you.

Sigh. It’s been a while since you joined the team. Who knew a random Tuesday night ice-cream run would lead to becoming the human liaison for an alien robot species disguised as vehicles? Definitely wasn’t on the bucket list. But, as silly as it sounds, you’ve come to love them. Maybe a little too much.

At first you shrugged it off as a little crush- kicking yourself for liking all six bots and acknowledging how unfair that would be to any of them and yourself. To choose. Don’t really know if said aliens robots have a concept of polyamory either, let alone if they’d be interested. You’ve kept your feelings private because of it. And now look? You’re stumbling into two gigantic caring servos that wrap around you so gently it makes you want to cry. It feels unfair.

Defensor cups you to his chassis and turns his back plate to the machine, the timbre of the whirling increasing by the second. Gripping onto Defensors servo like your life depends on. Can’t bare the idea of them sacrificing their lives for you, but know they’d do it in an instant. It’s agonizing knowing you can’t do the same for them, much less convey that you would beyond the use of words. Do they take it seriously when you say that? You aren’t sure.

Shaking in Defensors servo like a leaf, your tiny human EM field screaming with so much fear and uncertainty, they almost fall apart at the seams. They’re protecting you. Accurately named, those Protectobots. It’s who they are, you know that. You’re part of this team too afterall, have been for how long again? Still remember the first few weeks and how weird it was for everyone, navigating the new normal. Gotten to know each one of them now, became so much more than just teammates.

What will happen next? You’re absolutely terrified. Will this building collapse on all of you, leaving you trapped? Would Defensor be able to move through the rubble? This warehouse is the biggest thing you’ve ever seen. What will this device do upon exploding? Don’t know or really care right now what it will do to you, but it’s built to deal with sparks.. will they- you nearly throw up right in Defensors servo.

Will they die?

Your breath catches in your chest on a choked cry as the device erupts into a blinding white light. Even through Defensors servos, even as you squeeze your eyes shut to prepare for whatever happens- that light blinds you.

But it doesn’t hurt. It feels- pleasant? No, it feels warm. Good even. What is happening? Cant hear anything. No voices, no calamity, nothing. Well this certainly wasn’t the passing you were expecting.

That white light bleeds into- what even is this? You can see glimpses, moments of your time with the bots. A memory of when you introduced Groove and Rook to human videos games, it’s surrounded by an airy, happy sensation. Another of Hot Spot being admired by some children in a parking lot, he had been taking you for a drive that day after work. You got caught by some school kids who liked the ‘cool blue fire truck’. You look down- wait, you can see? You can move?

You’ve heard about different versions of the afterlife and such but this is some weird form of limbo. You’re not quite present, not quite there but still surrounded by visuals of all your life passing before you, reliving all the emotions and physical feelings attached to them. Memories and sensations that are not your own but they almost feel like they are. Had you just forgotten? Had they always been a part of you or is this new? An overpowering, simultaneous feeling of worry and affection consumes you, feeling like it’s pulling at your very being. It feels familiar.

You reach out a hand, fingertips barely grazing over another memory, this one of you and Blades. It isn’t from your eyes, though. You know it’s him because you remember that day, sitting on the roof of the base together, appreciating the view. The memory is from his perspective, and it- feels so soft. There’s warmth and some other emotion there that you can’t quite place. It almost feels like admiration, like a crush but that can’t be right. Can it? Did Blades feel that way too?

You shake your head, still throbbing from being launched earlier. You take a moment to look around. Everywhere you look there’s another one, mirror like and fragmented in nature. They most certainly aren’t memories of your own you’ve simply forgotten and are being showed in your last moments. Some belong to Rook, some to First Aid. That one was Streetwise. There are moments of their lives before the war, and the carnage they’d seen during. There are some together, before you joined the team. Some you hadn’t been told about before. They seem happy, but dysfunctional. Flashes of sweet memories of you together- in duos, trios, all of you. Each one feels more affectionate as they become more recent. Confusion and anxiety meld into a painful cocktail alongside everything else.

Okay, so Blades might have a little crush on you. But why are you seeing this now? And what about the others? Their memories towards you sharing those feelings, and even towards each other too? A bitter laugh escapes your throat. Maybe this is just some ideal fantasy your mind made up to comfort you in death. Seeing a life you wanted so badly being dangled right in front of you like a toy, just out of reach. What a mission this has turned out to be.

You feel the warmth fading, that bright white light going along with it. The mirror like memories seem to drift away until they’re out of sight, and the sensations along with them. You hadn’t realized how light you’d feel after, but there’s something different. You’re still here. You’re still in pain, those aches from earlier still gnawing at you. Your back and head still not very appreciative of your earlier con related debacle. There’s a new, hollow feeling in your chest you’re unfamiliar with. Feels like something is missing.

Before you have the chance to process what you’ve just experienced- life just seems to have it out for you today- Defensor buckles at the opposite knee. It’s so sudden it makes your head spin all over again, nearly making you sick as he does what he can to set you down safely before he comes apart.

From one bot becomes six. Loud bangs of metal resonate through the floor as each of the team crumples to the ground. They didn’t look injured while combined, but they’re uncharacteristically uncoordinated as they disassemble this time. Coupled with the panic of before- that not quite alive but not quite dead limbo you were in, seeing so many memories and feelings that weren’t your own, getting caught by a Decepticon, the device imploding on itself.. you’re more than a bit shaken up right now.

Feeling like you’ve forgotten to breathe, you choke on the dirt and ash in the air. Around you there’s rubble, the device having blown a massive hole in the side of the warehouse that is, miraculously, still standing. Constructicons sure know how to make a sturdy build, gotta give them that. There’s smoke emanating from where the machine once was, and your body screams at you to stop moving around so much to take in your surroundings. There’s no fire, at least.

A few minutes feels like an eternity as you all gather your senses, and the realization begins to dawn on you. Remembering what Streetwise had once told you about Cybertronian culture, you start to full-blown panic. The light, the visions, the sensations, that numbing hollow feeling in your chest- the machine.

Your breathing stops. The machine. It was built by Megatron to use on enemy Cybertronians sparks. It didn’t kill them when it blew up, instead it-

“Y/n!” Groove is the first to speak, but you’re too stunned to pay him much mind. From where he is on the ground, not too far from you on his servos and knees, he can see your eyes shot wide. Your panicked expression as you begin to grapple with what’s just happened, clutching your chest.

Groove sees First Aid rush to your side out of the corner of his vision, kneeling next to you to check over your injuries from before. He wanted to rip that con apart when he saw what happened to you, joining Rook and Streets right after they’d busted through the door. That scream you let out- it haunts him. He’d thought about it too many times before, terrified of the reality that could come to be, you getting caught and hurt by the cons merely for associating with them. His processor went into autopilot the minute he got there, and before any of them could really communicate, they were already combining.

Groove looks to his side, Rook is there. Cupping his helm in his servos, and it physically pains him to see the two of you like this. Doesn’t enjoy seeing any of the team like this. Feels everyone’s emotions right now and it drives him insane that he can’t comfort any of you. He’d been in the same boat as you for the most part, having feelings he didn’t know how to handle for people he didn’t know how to explain it to. How would he even begin to explain that? It’s not like he even knew how anyone felt until the device- well anyway. The reality is setting in now, he can feel your EM field spiking from this distance and it makes him just want to scoop you up and protect you. Groove settles for letting Aid be the one to comfort you, always did admire how gentle the medic could be. He pushes himself to his peds and makes his way over to Rook.

A servo reaches out to help Streetwise to his peds, and he has to force his optics upwards to meet Hot Spots. Even with his mask on, he can see the uncertainty written all over his leaders faceplate. In all honesty, Streets doesn’t know where you’ll all go from here. But he doesn’t have the luxury of thinking about that right now, it’s paramount you all get back to base before Decepticons come crawling back into this hole.

Hot Spot glances over his shoulder plate at Blades, who looks almost.. relieved? Afraid? Possibly a mix of both. He watches the copter let out a massive vent, chancing a peak in return to Hot Spot before looking away again. He’d expected the usually moody red and white mech to be more stunned, but maybe it’s better this way. Ever the leader that he is, Hot Spot makes his rounds to check over Rook and Groove before finally making his way to you and Aid, Streetwise in tow.

First Aid kneels next to you and reaches a servo around your back. “Y/n, please let me check your injuries. I know this is a lot to take in, but we don’t now how serious your condition is.” His soothing voice rings through your head to almost clear your thoughts. If you hadn’t been injured, you’d probably be unable to suppress the unruly desire to tug him into a hug. Still uncertain about what’s happening and admittedly a bit desperate for comfort after all that’s gone down, what’s probably not been more than 10 minutes of real time has felt like six lifetimes. Well, seven, actually-

You give Aid a shallow nod, allowing him to check you over as Blades and the others join the two of you. The medic looks visually more relaxed as he finds you to be relatively unharmed. Certain to be covered in bruises and scrapes for sure, but nothing extensive. Thank you human squish durability. It’s no metal plating, but you’re still kickin so who’s complaining?

It’s quiet for a few minutes. Uncomfortably quiet. All of you hesitating to say much of anything, having come to your own conclusions about the situation at hand and definitely needing clarity, but still unwilling to speak up. Groove lays an uncertain servo on the back of a very shaken up Rook, who hasn’t looked away from the ground the entire time. Blades and Streetwise are watching the exits, and Hot Spot rationalizes how to even go about explaining all of this. Accurately named, First Aid speaks up first.

“Nothing serious, but I’ll need to check over everyone at the base just to be sure.” Your breathing has calmed down, and the medic lets out a vent he hadn’t realized he was holding, relieved more than anything that this mess hasn’t seemed to cause you any permanent harm. Yet. Removing his servos from your still idling form to be on the safe side, given everything that’s happened.

“Are we just gonna-?” Groove glances between the medic and Hot Spot, he doesn’t even manage to get his full sentence out before Streetwise interrupts,

“Gonna what? Ignore it? Of course not. We can’t not talk about this, there’s so much Y/n needs to know-“ a little harsher than he intends to sound, he cringes at his own tone. He doesn’t mean it, and it stings in his spark when he sees Grooves expression fall further.

You make an attempt to stand, immediately met by more than one servo reaching out to assist you. Rook looks like he’s seen a ghost when your knee pops and you have to put your hands up in defense to show you’re okay. As okay as you can be, you guess.

“Actually..” you let out a shaky exhale as it all clicks into place, “I think I already understand.”

You’re all sparkbonded now.

——————————————————————————————————————

Note: My silly little concepts for fics are slowly being written bc I’ve got wrist braces now so I’m back with a vengeance, lol

He stands up straighter letting the building’s roof go, the rumbling shaking you, you hold on tightly to one of his much larger digits for safety but he is quick to coo at you, bringing his now freed servo to your other side to cup around you for extra security.

“Don’t worry, nothing will hurt you so long as I am still standing.” 

You get the feeling such a sweet mech is completely different on the battlefield, to know the very servos that hold you so lovingly have likely spilt energon just in the name of protecting your planet, you feel special. A fleeting thought of why the team hasn’t split apart comes to mind, though swiftly out of the window when he lifts you higher, careful to set you on his shoulder. His engine(s) purring at the press of your much smaller softer cheek nuzzling against his neck cables.

“Thank you, I know I won’t have to worry about anything with you around, big guy!”

His bright blue optics practically sparkle, widening a fraction but his smile stretches across his face, cheeks dusting a soft blue, barely able to contain his excitement and joy. If there was one thing the protectobots could agree on it was you, the team usually arguing who gets to hang out with you first, who gets to have you, but in this form they all get what they want.

Time with you.

The titan of a mech is careful in his steps, walking slow to not jostle you around too much. With the threats gone he doesn’t have to worry about any harm coming to you, he can finally spend time with you even if now that time is fleeting.

The large mech enjoys this, enjoys the small warmth you give off, your pitiful EM field now pressed against the side of his face allowing him to feel your happiness, letting him know how content you truly are just to be with him like this as he walks back to base.

“Defensor?” 

He already knows what you’re going to ask, he can already feel a handful of conflicting feelings in a silent argument about telling you why he doesn’t just unfuse and travel back to the autobot base that way, true it would be a lot faster, but who would you ride with?

But he smiles at you, stopping just shy of the base as he gently takes you off his shoulder, holding you up to his face plate.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to spend time with you, it’s not often I get to be like this.”

Despite knowing he can’t stay like this forever, he loves that he gets to spend any amount of time he can with you. The large mech blinks as you stand from your spot, stepping to the edge of his servos before he can warn you about safety, you kiss the tip of his Olfactory Sensor, smiling back at the blushing mech.

“I don’t mind, you’re much too sweet to have a rare appearance like this, it’s always nice to see you.”

His frame is overheating at that alone, steam coming from his helm as he tries to carefully but quickly set you down. Once to the ground you speak once more.

“I hope that’s not starting an argument.” You laugh, it only dies down when you see the apologetic look on his face plate, you let out a loud sigh, “yeah, I should’ve guessed. Proceed.”

You are not at all surprised for him to unfuse, though are surprised when Blades comes in swinging forgetting you are right there to hear him shouting.

“If you cowards aren’t gonna do it, I will!” Just to be marching his way to you, and then tackled by the rest of the team.

Terror transformed

You'd been in the basement when it happened.

On your hands and knees, half-way under the haggard ol' pool table that'd come with the house, blindly pawing around for a dryer ball that'd escaped your grip and rolled between loose cardboard boxes. Absently acknowledging the warbled fritz buzzing through the busted radio somewhere across the room, an actual word or two blurted above the static every now and then: 'something, something, "Decepticons-!" something, something, "-Iant robot lizar-!"

You recoiled your hand when it caught on a cobweb, swatting it away and venturing further beneath the table.

"-sor thrown into the-" This'd be a lot easier with a flashlight. "-soaring eastbound-!"

Your fingertips brushed along something round and fuzzy, "Ah-ha!"

The earth trembles, a cacophony of crash-smashing obliterating wood and glass alike; you were momentarily airborne, your back colliding with the bottom of the table, the underside brace bruising your spine before gravity slammed you face-flat onto cold pavement; foundations crumpling, wreckage crashing down to pulverize your basement furnishings. An excruciating pain blazing up the length of your left leg. The tumbling of something titanic tapering into the distance.

You lay motionless, but not unconscious.

You wish you'd been knocked unconscious.

The quakes return shortly after, though with a pattern unlike the tumbling; you can only sob hoarsely through a mouth full of blood as the tremors disturb the wooden beam crushing down on your calf. "Civilians: Respond!" A booming voice calls, its echo undertoned with a layer of synth. Rubble is hastily thrown about, "Respond!" the voice sounding just as frightened and desperate as you feel.

You gurgle around a tongue that feels too big between your teeth, sucking in wet, ragged breaths between cries, chest heaving. The sifting ceases for a moment, your muffled weeping heard, then picking up again just as fast. A chill rushing along your arms as the table is lifted from above, exposed to open air. It hurts, but you slide your head to the side until your cheek rests on the floor, looking through unfocused eyes up at the blurry shape of the gigantic mechanoid hovering above you. "Civilian: Remain calm, you are safe," its volume lowered for the sake of your sensitive ears "Defensor: Objective: Rescue. Forewarning, obstruction removal, pain imminent."

Pressure is eased off from your leg, yet a scream burbles up and out of your throat, nerves re-flamed with heightened pain.

Defensor flinches, his professionalism as an emergency responder shaken by the fact that he'd been the (unintentional) cause of your battered state.

He sends out a ping and sets the beam aside to assess your injuries, reaching out and gently maneuvering you onto your side to prevent you from choking on your own blood, careful not to jostle you more than necessary until he's aware of all your wounds. "Civilian: Emergency services have been contacted, though it will be some time before any will be dispatched to these coordinates as, Location: Central City, is actively under siege. Alternatively, I would like to provide you with aid and transportation to the nearest hospital, this service is free of charge, Inquiry: Do you consent?"   You're still rattled, and your skull throbs, so it takes a moment to digest everything he'd just said, but you nod in confirmation.

He quickly sets to work making you comfortable. Pulling an assortment of supplies (that look far too tiny between his fingers) from some compartment in his left arm and setting them on the ground. First, coaxing you to lift your head and sliding a thick blue quilt beneath it, then offering you an icepack with a gauze pad and instructing you to hold both to your busted nose. He warns you before touching your leg, talking you through the process and keeping you mentally engaged as he dresses and braces the broken limb with more precision than someone a hundredth your size should be able to.

"Inquiry: Are you experiencing pain anywhere other than the locations already addressed?"

He waits patiently while you steady a breath, having calmed a considerable amount in the past few minutes or so thanks to his kind demeanor, "M-my back, I hit it on the table." you gesture lamely towards the area.

He nods, "Request: Lift your auxiliary armor."

"...what?"

You both pause a moment, staring at each other. When he speaks next, it's at a slightly lessened pace, "Correction: Request: Lift your auxiliary armor, please-?"

It clicks.

"Oh- my shirt!" still very much in pain, you find it within yourself to be flustered as you peer up this- admittedly, handsome and polite giant who'd just asked you to lift your shirt; aware he'd just meant so he could document and alleviate your pain, but still. You bent an arm to hike the shirt up until the origin of the ache in your back was fully exposed.

He slights his head, noting the discoloration spreading from your lower to mid back, "You are able to manipulate your limbs without trouble?" he asks, affirming actions he'd already witnessed such as the movement of your arms and independent adjustment of leg position.

"Yes."

You're handed another icepack, "Acknowledgment: I lack the ability to handle and distribute sensor dampening medications at this current moment, my apologies, I understand you are in pain."

Awkwardly holding icepacks to both your face and spine, you try to smile, "It's uh..? It's okay-?" you aren't 100% sure what he means by 'sensor dampening' but you get the gist, "It's nice to uh, be all in one piece and not, all squished- at least.." even if your face felt like someone'd grabbed the back of your head and smashed it into the curb; at least you'd lived to tell the tale by the end of the day.

He nods in agreement, a solemn look etching his features as he spares a glance to the remnants of your home, "I am sorry the same cannot be said for your residence."

"Yeah.." you take in the rubble surrounding you, having had to peer up at him from what's left of your kitchen floor: which hung at the ceiling edges of what use to be your basement. "I don't know if my insurance covers.. um," your gaze flits back to him, "whatever just happened, but you seem- nice, and I'm sure you didn't mean to uh,, destroy my house, right-?"

"Negative," he states with gentle firmness, "Defensor: Occupation: Rescue and protect humankind."

It wasn't as hard to smile this time around, though it probably came off more as a grimace than anything adjacent "Tell ya' what, Defensor, you help me with the claim and get me some hospital grade painkillers, and we can call it water under the bridge." finding a place to stay in the aftermath of all this was either going to be hell on your wallet or hell on your already bruised back, but you'd have to handle that crisis when it came for you. For now, you could relish in the look of confusion that crosses Defensor's face as he parses your idiom.

He ultimately assents to your proposal, leaning down as he had when he'd treated your leg, "Intent: I will be moving you now, please remain still."

You put on a brave face as he carefully cups your body between his palms and slowly lifts, adjusting to elevate both your leg and head.

"Are you comfortable?"

You shuffle the quilt to serve as a barrier between his unyielding metal and your neck and spine, icepacks moved about, not exactly comfortable but not unbearably uncomfortable either. "Comfortable enough," you assure, "and ready to go." He nods and sets a calculated stride, wanting to get you administered into a medical facility as soon as possible so long as it wasn't at the cost of further avoidable injury.

... "..So.. what happened?"

He briefly tilts his head to acknowledge you from the bottom of his visor, looking back up to watch his steps shortly after, "I was directing civilians towards safety when, Designation: Trypticon, engaged me in combat. I was lifted and thrown approximately 72.42048 kilometers, colliding with your residence."  

"Woah.. that must've hurt."

Once more, he only nods. His face stoic, though now that you're paying attention, you can gauge the uneven, one-step-two-step, limp in his walk, and how he subtly shifts his right shoulder every odd couple of moments. Bits of dirt and- house- sticking from between grooves and seams. You reach out and pat at his palm, trying to soothe as much comfort as you possibly could into the meager touch.

He doesn't look down, but a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

The rest of the trip is spent in amiable silence, and by the end of it, just before you're wheeled away by hospital staff, you're beyond delighted to exchange contact details.

For insurance purposes, of course.

...

Thing is, they honestly were going to blow each other’s sparks clean out of their chambers at first. However, having somehow found yourself at home with both teams, and both seeing and very much feeling the affection their combiners had for you, there has become somewhat of an unspoken rule between the rivaling teams. No fighting to the death while you’re around- to avoid you getting hurt- and they get to steal you away from the opposing team periodically. It’s so the big guy gets his time with you, t-that’s all! Totally not because they’ve all become attached..

Every time you find yourself getting comfortable at the Combaticons base.. The Protectobots, more specifically Defensor, steal you back again.

I mean come on, they’re the *Combat*icons, it’s literally in the name! How could they trust your safety to *them* of all Decepticons? They could hurt you! What if Swindle caught wind of those grubby bots who pay a high price for a cute human pet? Absolutely not!

But how could the Combaticons put their faith in a bunch of up tight Autobots either? And put you in danger to be some other Decepticon or Autobots next meal? I mean come on, the Protectobots can’t even keep Blades in order and you expect the Cons to just trust them “cause they’re Autobots”?? Not gonna happen. You’re safe at Combaticons HQ and that’s final.

As much as both sides hate sharing, you seem to enjoy this back and forth. Their very own adorable, troublemaker human gets a sick kick out of them fighting over you. Like to make them sweat it seems. How they ended up in such a situation, none of them know. But they’ll be damned if something bad happens to you.

Oddly enough, there is some solace in knowing exactly who has taken you from them. They know where you are, and that you’ll be safe at the very least. As much as both sides should be more angry, they can’t help but be a little glad to have found such an outlet for all the stress of the war. You never exactly return injured either, so that helps.

Part of sharing means dealing with the opposing combiners scent all over you upon your return, and Bruticus absolutely hates that. Can’t stand the idea of those pesky Autobots or that tin can Defensor cuddling up to you, stealing your warmth. Despite his violent nature, he’s gentle with you. Tries to be anyway. Especially when smushing his faceplate against your form as you’re sat in his servos, rubbing his scent on you not entirely unlike a big metal cat. Gentle as he may try to be, he’s still massive, so it takes some getting used to- said metal isn’t exactly soft. Got pinched more than once by his plating. Yeesh. He seems to enjoy it when you taunt him about Defensors scent all over you though, even if you personally can’t tell at all. Knowing he’ll just snatch you up and replace it with his makes it too fun not to. Tease him too much and he might just give in to his component Vortex’s desires to bite you.

And bite you he has. Although, one of the many things he adores about you is your lack of fear towards him and his Cons. He’s massive, so are they, and yet you still sass them and put them in their place? That’s hot. You threaten to smack him cause he pissed you off? Do it. He’s not even hiding how much he wants that. Is that his Vortex component again? Could be Brawl, he doesn’t care.

As sweet to you as he is, Bruticus still likes to watch you squirm. He’s certainly not above licking you, glossa swiping from your thigh to cheek, just to see you huff in frustration. Complaining and growling at him. Likes you happy of course, but he likes you mad too.

He enjoys flustering you if he can, although he struggles to know exactly what to do. Not like he’s super experienced with this, ya know? It’s not as simple as breaking stuff and punching bots. Every time you have a cute reaction to his flirting attempts, he has to manually silence his Swindle component, who seems to think you’re too precious not to make a profit with. Immediately filling him with a greed that could rival the Bible, but he’s more interested in your attention than shanix.

One thing Bruticus doesn’t really understand are the silly nicknames you give him and the cons, but he still enjoys them. Can feel a part of his spark practically melt when you call him yours. Can get pretty possessive after that though.. In fact, they all do. Sorry, but it seems you’re gonna have to call in to work tomorrow..

Your rowdy nature coupled with your crude humor were also major selling points for him. You mean you can joke around with his Cons and keep up with their energy? How much energy do humans have?? Don’t care, that’s dope. Blast-Off has more than once been left a sputtering mess of metal and wires after receiving one of your witty retorts or flirty passes.

As if they needed more reasons to want you all for themselves, you’ve won over the big guy with your lack of judgment towards his mental fortitude. Bruticus is a bit dimwitted, to say the least, but you never treat him as such. He’s not just a mindless killing machine to you, even if he does enjoy it anyhow. Showering him in compliments and praise, like his own person and not just a gestalt. Others treat his components like people, but not him. It’s a surprising but not unwelcome change of pace.

At the same time, he appreciates how you care about each part of him. Literally. His components. You put up with their antics and seem to have fun doing so. The Combaticons are more than well aware their personal affections for you have played a role in only amplifying his. How could they not though? Yeah they’re super difficult, and more importantly dangerous, but you stick around. Even if they do have to keep planning elaborate escapes to get you back from the Bots. Not that Onslaught minds creating new tactics, of course.

But sometimes those tactics fall through, allowing Defensor to come crash the party and “save” you. Much to the Protectobots surprise as mentioned before, you never return to them injured. Always slightly on edge due to the level of violence they’ve experienced from the cons. Don’t really want to think about what it means for you to be so heavily favored, desired even, by such a group of bad bots, so they shove their worries under the rug for now.

They should probably be far more worried than they are, but it’s hard to stay that way when you immediately relax into Defensors servo- wait, are you napping?? You’re not even back at base yet!

None of them can really get enough of you relaxing into their touch like that, or nuzzling your cheek against Defensors faceplate. If he could turn bluer, he would. His components though? Oh they certainly do. Blushing like crazy, minus Hot Spot whose face remains unseen, every time you give them affection. It makes you laugh how simple they can be at times. Century old legendary warriors getting flustered by a human? Ha! Why wouldn’t you tease them a little?

Defensor is especially partial to your laugh and smiling face. He likes to be the cause, but will except it being one of his parts instead. Just not that piece of scrap, Bruticus. You never fail to include him, always mentioning him as part of the team. He’s not just their gestalt, he’s a full member with his own autonomy. The big bot really struggles to feel that way for a while, even causing him to slip up in battle a few times. But your praise and encouragement get him back in the game, reminding him of his place in your heart and on the team.

Although it is a bit stressful to have to nab you back from the Cons, it’s nice to just- not have to fight all the time. Gives them something else to do. Again, they never quite feel comfortable with this arrangement or your safety being in their rivals hands. Defensors First Aid component always fretting and checking you over in his servos the second he can. The medic worries about your health in this situation, what if you become too stressed out? That’s horrible for humans! How would he even fix that? Can’t exactly just waltz into the Combaticons base and demand they stop. He’s not super keen on getting tackled by Brawl immediately either.

It’s hard for Defensor to balance out his worry for you with his desire to kick that rust bucket Bruticus’ aft though, and everyone blames his Blades side for that. Ever the feisty one, isn’t he? The helicopter is always pulling Defensor to be less forward with his affections for you, ever the withdrawn, brooding bad boy of the group. Groove is probably having one hell of a time fighting Blades on that one, desperate to drink in every second of your affection.

Defensor is pretty glad to have someone like Groove around, and Streetwise too. Those two allow him to, sometimes at least, flirt with you in a reasonable way. Ya know, for a several million year old bot who’s intensely trying to understand human courting rituals. He wouldn’t be near as suave without them guiding him. Although suave is.. one way to put it. He’ll keep at it though. You’re just so cute when you get flustered or feel confident because of his comments. As you should, you deserve it! They simply adore any reaction you have.

You make Defensor, and frankly all the Bots, feel like they belong on Earth, with humans. The very thing he’s come to love so much. Thinks of himself as one of you, he’s a bit slow on the uptake that he isn’t quite the same. Knows he’s different but the nature of combiners means he struggles with.. well, thinking. Regardless, you’re always so sweet to him. Patient and understanding, you explain your own culture and listen to theirs. His normally fearless Rook component even melts at your kind nature. And why wouldn’t he? Why wouldn’t any of them?

Suppose it can’t be helped. Someone like you is bound to win over the sparks of any bot they meet. As such, both teams will just have to keep taking you back until one side concedes. Ooorr maybe they’ll keep it up for fun. For you. Who knows what this weird situation holds, hm?

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Note: Combiners man.. these damn combiners… hnng-

Anyway, felt like this one ended abruptly, but oh well. I’m not necessarily unhappy with it, just an observation:p