Fic - Caring
Title: Caring
Continuity: G1
Warnings: gen, fighting scenes, mentions of severe injuries
Characters: Blast Off, Onslaught
Prompt: Caring
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Blast Off disobeyed orders, and doesn’t want to admit it was a wrong decision.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty
Note: Written for the 28 Blast Off meme.
Caring
Blast Off explained what had happened, and Onslaught’s engine growled. “You ruined my plan.”
Blast Off tensed. That wasn’t what had actually happened, but it had to be expected that Onslaught would think this way.
“You had simple orders,” the gestalt leader continued angrily when Blast Off just kept quiet “Really simple!”
If it would have been possible, the shuttle would have tensed even more, but his joints almost ached, and still he said nothing.
“Can you tell me what your orders were?”
Blast Off heaved air heavily but silently through his intakes before he answered blankly. “Observing and recording the battle from space for later analysis of Omega Supreme’s actions and reactions.”
“Exactly. And this isn’t what you did!”
Jaw clenched, Blast Off tried hard not to scowl. No, it wasn’t what he had done. He had re-entered the atmosphere and left his position. He had entered the battlefield.
Onslaught stood up and rounded the desk. It wasn’t hard to tell where this conversation would lead. “It was an easy plan! Simple orders that even Brawl understood.”
Blast Off suppressed a condescending huff. It hadn’t been a simple plan; it had been insane, and Onslaught had known it.
Three mechs against Omega Supreme was suicide. The distraction hadn’t worked; Aerialbots had shown up, and even without them… Against the former Guardian, they would have needed their combined form at the very least.
The shuttle noticed the other’s fists clenching, and thought that it would be easier to get it over with. Indeed, Blast Off was surprised that Onslaught seemed so calm.
“And? You don’t even want to find an excuse?” Onslaught spat.
Blast Off’s optics twitched. What?, he thought, should he have let the others die? He didn’t say it, however, and remained silent.
“You’re not going to disobey me. You’re not going to fail my plan, understand? This is my team, and as long as I’m there, I’m the one giving orders!”
Blast Off couldn’t keep quiet any longer. His engine revved - it didn’t sound healthy. “Yes, but today you weren’t there!”
A fist hit his battle mask, knocking his head aside; he almost stumbled. The second strike followed quickly, and pain spread from Blast Off’s abdomen over his sensor net. He felt the freshly repaired lines being torn open again, and for two astroseconds his vision blurred, equilibrium glitching.
When Blast Off was again steadier on his feet, Onslaught was already close, lunging. But this time the shuttle could dodge. He caught Onslaught’s wrist, and turned, pressing his commander’s front against the nearest wall. It would have been over, but Blast Off was already wounded and unable to stop Onslaught when he pushed himself off again.
This time, Blast Off actually tripped a few steps back, but he didn’t lose his balance. He was able to evade the next punch, pushing the other’s arm down with his own while he grabbed the wrist a second time. Using the momentum of the movements, Blast Off let himself fall on his back, pulling Onslaught with him. The shuttle, though, wasn’t long on the floor. He rolled them over; straddling Onslaught, and pressing his arms to the ground.
Onslaught struggled, both their engines rumbling, and then their foreheads met with a loud clang. Blast Off gasped, pained, his grip loosening for the slightest of moments, but not long enough for Onslaught for fight back successfully.
There was a small crack in Blast Off’s visor, but he didn’t see it. A few areas of his HUD filled with white noise which stayed hazy even after the heaviest pain had slowly ebbed away.
Onslaught began to insult him, but the words didn’t make much sense. In the shuttle’s audios, the clashing sound of metal still rang, and he was too busy holding Onslaught down to run a scan.
It took almost two breems until Onslaught was quiet and Blast Off’s processor had coped with the clout, only a throbbing headache remaining.
Onslaught glared.
Blast Off looked back blankly. “Calm down...”
The other didn’t growl, which was a little reassuring, and he dared say, “Stop trying to impress Megatron.” At our costs, Blast Off would have liked to have added, but it would have been too much.
Onslaught didn’t reply, but Blast Off hadn’t expected him to.
After another klik, he let go and stood up, biting back the pained hiss that almost found its way out of his vocaliser. He remained in the middle of the room; Onslaught leant on his desk.
The tact of the shuttle’s engine changed due to the energon loss. The pink liquid flowed down his thigh to his knee and over his burnt wing.
Onslaught looked at it, and asked. “So, Vortex and Swindle are in medbay?” His tone made it clear that he was still angry, but his stance and expression didn’t reveal what at.
The only thing Blast Off knew was that he wouldn’t be attacked again.
He nodded. “Scrapper will comm us when they’re stable enough for transport.”
“Brawl?”
Blast Off fought to keep standing upright. “He’s in his quarters. The Constructicons sealed his shoulder, but they will need a while until they rebuilt his arm.”
Onslaught glanced at him for another few astroseconds. Then he said in a stern voice, “You’re dismissed.”
The shuttle nodded again, acknowledging the order, and turned.
When the door shut with a click, Blast Off sighed in relief. He shuddered, the energon loss caused a sickening dizziness and he managed to hobble four steps before he leant against the wall.
Blast Off looked down, where energon streamed out of seams of his abdomen and side. He pressed a hand against the damage, and he needed all his will not to sink to the floor.
Once again, the vision blurred, and Blast Off’s vents stuttered.
He needed to take care of this.
He needed to be ready to bring Vortex and Swindle home.
Continuity: G1
Warnings: gen, fighting scenes, mentions of severe injuries
Characters: Blast Off, Onslaught
Prompt: Caring
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Blast Off disobeyed orders, and doesn’t want to admit it was a wrong decision.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty
Note: Written for the 28 Blast Off meme.
Caring
Blast Off explained what had happened, and Onslaught’s engine growled. “You ruined my plan.”
Blast Off tensed. That wasn’t what had actually happened, but it had to be expected that Onslaught would think this way.
“You had simple orders,” the gestalt leader continued angrily when Blast Off just kept quiet “Really simple!”
If it would have been possible, the shuttle would have tensed even more, but his joints almost ached, and still he said nothing.
“Can you tell me what your orders were?”
Blast Off heaved air heavily but silently through his intakes before he answered blankly. “Observing and recording the battle from space for later analysis of Omega Supreme’s actions and reactions.”
“Exactly. And this isn’t what you did!”
Jaw clenched, Blast Off tried hard not to scowl. No, it wasn’t what he had done. He had re-entered the atmosphere and left his position. He had entered the battlefield.
Onslaught stood up and rounded the desk. It wasn’t hard to tell where this conversation would lead. “It was an easy plan! Simple orders that even Brawl understood.”
Blast Off suppressed a condescending huff. It hadn’t been a simple plan; it had been insane, and Onslaught had known it.
Three mechs against Omega Supreme was suicide. The distraction hadn’t worked; Aerialbots had shown up, and even without them… Against the former Guardian, they would have needed their combined form at the very least.
The shuttle noticed the other’s fists clenching, and thought that it would be easier to get it over with. Indeed, Blast Off was surprised that Onslaught seemed so calm.
“And? You don’t even want to find an excuse?” Onslaught spat.
Blast Off’s optics twitched. What?, he thought, should he have let the others die? He didn’t say it, however, and remained silent.
“You’re not going to disobey me. You’re not going to fail my plan, understand? This is my team, and as long as I’m there, I’m the one giving orders!”
Blast Off couldn’t keep quiet any longer. His engine revved - it didn’t sound healthy. “Yes, but today you weren’t there!”
A fist hit his battle mask, knocking his head aside; he almost stumbled. The second strike followed quickly, and pain spread from Blast Off’s abdomen over his sensor net. He felt the freshly repaired lines being torn open again, and for two astroseconds his vision blurred, equilibrium glitching.
When Blast Off was again steadier on his feet, Onslaught was already close, lunging. But this time the shuttle could dodge. He caught Onslaught’s wrist, and turned, pressing his commander’s front against the nearest wall. It would have been over, but Blast Off was already wounded and unable to stop Onslaught when he pushed himself off again.
This time, Blast Off actually tripped a few steps back, but he didn’t lose his balance. He was able to evade the next punch, pushing the other’s arm down with his own while he grabbed the wrist a second time. Using the momentum of the movements, Blast Off let himself fall on his back, pulling Onslaught with him. The shuttle, though, wasn’t long on the floor. He rolled them over; straddling Onslaught, and pressing his arms to the ground.
Onslaught struggled, both their engines rumbling, and then their foreheads met with a loud clang. Blast Off gasped, pained, his grip loosening for the slightest of moments, but not long enough for Onslaught for fight back successfully.
There was a small crack in Blast Off’s visor, but he didn’t see it. A few areas of his HUD filled with white noise which stayed hazy even after the heaviest pain had slowly ebbed away.
Onslaught began to insult him, but the words didn’t make much sense. In the shuttle’s audios, the clashing sound of metal still rang, and he was too busy holding Onslaught down to run a scan.
It took almost two breems until Onslaught was quiet and Blast Off’s processor had coped with the clout, only a throbbing headache remaining.
Onslaught glared.
Blast Off looked back blankly. “Calm down...”
The other didn’t growl, which was a little reassuring, and he dared say, “Stop trying to impress Megatron.” At our costs, Blast Off would have liked to have added, but it would have been too much.
Onslaught didn’t reply, but Blast Off hadn’t expected him to.
After another klik, he let go and stood up, biting back the pained hiss that almost found its way out of his vocaliser. He remained in the middle of the room; Onslaught leant on his desk.
The tact of the shuttle’s engine changed due to the energon loss. The pink liquid flowed down his thigh to his knee and over his burnt wing.
Onslaught looked at it, and asked. “So, Vortex and Swindle are in medbay?” His tone made it clear that he was still angry, but his stance and expression didn’t reveal what at.
The only thing Blast Off knew was that he wouldn’t be attacked again.
He nodded. “Scrapper will comm us when they’re stable enough for transport.”
“Brawl?”
Blast Off fought to keep standing upright. “He’s in his quarters. The Constructicons sealed his shoulder, but they will need a while until they rebuilt his arm.”
Onslaught glanced at him for another few astroseconds. Then he said in a stern voice, “You’re dismissed.”
The shuttle nodded again, acknowledging the order, and turned.
When the door shut with a click, Blast Off sighed in relief. He shuddered, the energon loss caused a sickening dizziness and he managed to hobble four steps before he leant against the wall.
Blast Off looked down, where energon streamed out of seams of his abdomen and side. He pressed a hand against the damage, and he needed all his will not to sink to the floor.
Once again, the vision blurred, and Blast Off’s vents stuttered.
He needed to take care of this.
He needed to be ready to bring Vortex and Swindle home.