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[fic][Transformers, Springer, Perceptor, Kup, PG] Struggle On
Title: Struggle On
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1496
Characters: Springer, Perceptor, Kup
In Response to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_whores claimed by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tainry, prompt: Perceptor + head in the clouds
Summary: Spoilers for All Hail Megatron, specifically 5, 6 and 8. In our moments of greatest weakness, the strongest of bonds will form.
Ratchet said Perceptor would be fine. The dart merely disrupted his neural connections and, since it hit direct cabling instead of armor, the effects were immediate. “He may be a little scrambled in the head when he comes to,” the medic said in that rough-gentle way that was his alone, “but his systems just need to sort themselves out and he’ll be fine.”
No lasting damage. The thought made Springer’s fans growl, sitting next to the recharging body of the scientist-turned-sniper. None of this was supposed to be lasting but it all was. Factions, the war, Cybertron and each one of them fracturing one after another.
~*~*~*~
“Springer!”
“Springer- are you okay?”
“What happened?”
“I… I dunno…” he shakes his head, trying to get things working out straight again. “I tried… I…” The triplechanger falls silent, looking up past the concerned faceplates around him, up at the bridge he was supposed to be surveying from.
“How’d you fall so short? I’ve seen you jump things twice that distance.”
He winces, more at the statement than any pains as he stands. “It’s fine just… telemetry got messed up.”
“By 300 meters? Springer, that’s more than a mere miscalculation.”
“I’m fine! Just gimme a moment to sort things out!” And it’s more than anger coloring his tone- there’s also fear. Because he knows something isn’t right with him, something hasn’t been right with him and he’s not certain of his feet anymore and now he can’t even pinpoint how far the top of the bridge is.
“I believe,” the words are soft and cultured and breaks through the murmurs of concern better than any boisterous tone, “the backlash Springer endured while bonded to Trion’s defenses was far more sever than previous diagnostics revealed.”
~*~*~*~
“Damn nosy scientist,” there was no malice in Springer’s words. His misplaced fury had burned itself out long ago and in its place was left a hollow mech who only felt one thing now: the need to survive. It’s not like he could really blame Perceptor- how long, really, did he think he would’ve been able to keep such a disability hidden?
~*~*~*~
“Springer. Transform.”
Everything in his head just sort of stutters and falls silent. “I… what?”
“Transform into aerial mode,” Kup says. He’s stern and solid but never judgmental. “Fly up to that bridge.”
“B-But,” Springer’s processes are racing in a frantic pace, “my blades are too loud and I’ll be too visible. I might bring the Swarm on us-“
“Then we’ll deal with that if it happens.” With unconscious dexterity Kup swings the plug from one side of his mouth to the other. “Springer,” and though his tone is low the hush around them still lets the words carry around their bedraggled group, “if we’re going to survive I need to know what everyone is capable of. I need to know if you can fly.”
A cold flush ices through the triplechanger’s systems and everyone takes a step back. Kup stands there, patiently waiting and Springer knows he has no choice in the matter. He transforms and the flood of fragmented, fluctuating information is suddenly that much sharper, all the more painful as he tries to find a flight plan, an angle of movement-
“I…” his voice is broken and lost and would rather be dead than admit this to the mech that he idolized more than anyone in existence. “I can’t.”
~*~*~*~
In the race to retreat he didn’t see Perceptor getting hit or heard him fall, but he saw the limp body as Kup and Ratchet pulled him down from Roadbuster’s back. “Don’t you ever dare die,” he gritted out, finally giving voice to the words he had thought at that moment and that had haunted him ever since, “you’re too damn important for us to loose.”
~*~*~*~
“All defensive and tactical systems have either been severely damaged or are burnt out,” Perceptor concludes, closing up the last of the access panels. “That’s caused several cascading systems failures as a direct result: telemetry, long range scans, probabilistic algorithms, acceleration projections- it is beyond our current abilities to repair.”
Springer hunches over, meek and useless and scared. “Kup… ‘m sorry.”
The reaction he gets is of genuine surprise. “Sorry? What’re you sorry for? If it weren’t for you, none of us would be here now and you’re the one that paid the price for our survival. We’re the ones grateful to you.”
“Except now I’m useless,” his fists trembles against his legs, “I can’t gauge distances, can’t act as ranged support, can’t act as air support, can’t utilize my leg thrusters, can’t do anything-“
“But you’re alive,” Kup cuts in coolly, “and you’re clever. That’s more than enough reason for me to know you’ll do us all good. You’ll find something you can do. Always have.”
Shadows hide Springer’s face, denta grinding together as he tries so desperately to keep from exploding because as useless as he is, as much deadweight as he’s become, lashing out won’t solve anything.
“Springer-“
He jerks to his feet, ignoring Perceptor’s hand and Kup’s knowing expression and storms out.
“Let ‘im alone for now, kid. He’ll sort it out.”
~*~*~*~
The footsteps were deliberately loud and Springer didn’t move- he knew who they belonged to. “How’s he been?”
“Alright,” Springer tilted his head slightly to acknowledge Kup. “Ratchet’s already cleared out the disruption codes and says his systems just need to purge what’s left of the chemical interference. He’ll be back on duty soon.”
“Good.” Kup’s focus didn’t waver once from Springer. “And you?”
“I’m alright.”
“Something on your mind?”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“A lotta thing.”
The audible gnawing halted for a klik as Kup studied the scientist. “Not that much.”
Springer couldn’t help a crooked smile. “No. Not that much.”
~*~*~*~
“Shoot?” Springer’s gotten tired of being in a permanent state of anger, now is only incredulous at the request. “What’d you mean?”
“I believe it would be beneficial to us all,” Perceptor says calmly, “if I could better handle a firearm.”
“You already know how to handle one.”
“With barely passable accuracy,” the admission of his shortcomings doesn’t seem to bother him at all. “It seems the best one to teach me would be you.”
Springer scowls, arms tight across his chestplate. “There’s others that can teach you.”
“No one else has the ranged experience you have.”
“If you want to become a sniper, you’ve got the wrong mech.”
“The distances you need to cover while in the air puts your skills far beyond the range of anyone on the ground and your ability to compensate for your flight path and several resistance variables makes you more accurate as well.”
Shame and anger starts shinning in his optics but Perceptor is still as polite and calm as ever. “Kup can teach you the mechanics-“
“Kup has enough responsibilities as it is.”
“Roadbuster-“
“Does not do precision fire, Blaster and Hot Rod are excellent marksmen but only in the mid-range or closer and Blurr and Drift are not much more proficient in firearms than I.” Then, all at once, that careful distance in Perceptor’s demeanor softens and he puts a hand to the triplechanger’s elbow. “I understand how you feel, Springer-“
“Do you,” he grits, optics blazing, “do you really? Do you understand just how useless and redundant I feel? I may as well not even exist for all the good I’m doing!”
“I do,” came the gentle answer, “because that’s how I’ve felt since joining Kup’s crew. Everyone here is trained for battle or has a special skill they can utilize. All I have is my intellect and that, as you’ve seen time and again, does little against the Swarm.” His lips press into a thin line and his optics are pleading. “Tell me how you are able to fire accurately from a distance, Springer. Help me help everyone else.”
His arms drop to his sides, all the more helpless now than ever before. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”
“Perhaps. But if I’m going to be here, I should do all I can.”
~*~*~*~
A soft groan filtered up from his side and Springer looked down to see a glow softly brightening Perceptor’s optics. “Welcome back,” he said in the deceptively easy way of his, “to the land of the functioning.”
“Springer? I… my head is… I can’t think straight…”
“It’ll pass, don’t worry,” he reached down and clasped Perceptor’s hand who clutched back almost desperately.
“My targeting array-“
“Ratchet said to keep it off until you’re done recalibrating. Said you don’t need the additional data screwing you up right now.”
“Are we,” his faceplates pinched, trying to fight his sluggish response time, “okay?”
Springer smiled sadly, “We are for now.”
~*~*~*~
He whistles out of his vents, lowering his binoculars. Beside him, bringing his rifle down to his side, Perceptor can’t help an accomplished grin. “Five out of five,” Springer claps a hand on the smaller mech’s shoulder. “I think you’re ready for some action.”
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1496
Characters: Springer, Perceptor, Kup
In Response to:
10_whores claimed by tainry, prompt: Perceptor + head in the cloudsSummary: Spoilers for All Hail Megatron, specifically 5, 6 and 8. In our moments of greatest weakness, the strongest of bonds will form.
Ratchet said Perceptor would be fine. The dart merely disrupted his neural connections and, since it hit direct cabling instead of armor, the effects were immediate. “He may be a little scrambled in the head when he comes to,” the medic said in that rough-gentle way that was his alone, “but his systems just need to sort themselves out and he’ll be fine.”
No lasting damage. The thought made Springer’s fans growl, sitting next to the recharging body of the scientist-turned-sniper. None of this was supposed to be lasting but it all was. Factions, the war, Cybertron and each one of them fracturing one after another.
~*~*~*~
“Springer!”
“Springer- are you okay?”
“What happened?”
“I… I dunno…” he shakes his head, trying to get things working out straight again. “I tried… I…” The triplechanger falls silent, looking up past the concerned faceplates around him, up at the bridge he was supposed to be surveying from.
“How’d you fall so short? I’ve seen you jump things twice that distance.”
He winces, more at the statement than any pains as he stands. “It’s fine just… telemetry got messed up.”
“By 300 meters? Springer, that’s more than a mere miscalculation.”
“I’m fine! Just gimme a moment to sort things out!” And it’s more than anger coloring his tone- there’s also fear. Because he knows something isn’t right with him, something hasn’t been right with him and he’s not certain of his feet anymore and now he can’t even pinpoint how far the top of the bridge is.
“I believe,” the words are soft and cultured and breaks through the murmurs of concern better than any boisterous tone, “the backlash Springer endured while bonded to Trion’s defenses was far more sever than previous diagnostics revealed.”
~*~*~*~
“Damn nosy scientist,” there was no malice in Springer’s words. His misplaced fury had burned itself out long ago and in its place was left a hollow mech who only felt one thing now: the need to survive. It’s not like he could really blame Perceptor- how long, really, did he think he would’ve been able to keep such a disability hidden?
~*~*~*~
“Springer. Transform.”
Everything in his head just sort of stutters and falls silent. “I… what?”
“Transform into aerial mode,” Kup says. He’s stern and solid but never judgmental. “Fly up to that bridge.”
“B-But,” Springer’s processes are racing in a frantic pace, “my blades are too loud and I’ll be too visible. I might bring the Swarm on us-“
“Then we’ll deal with that if it happens.” With unconscious dexterity Kup swings the plug from one side of his mouth to the other. “Springer,” and though his tone is low the hush around them still lets the words carry around their bedraggled group, “if we’re going to survive I need to know what everyone is capable of. I need to know if you can fly.”
A cold flush ices through the triplechanger’s systems and everyone takes a step back. Kup stands there, patiently waiting and Springer knows he has no choice in the matter. He transforms and the flood of fragmented, fluctuating information is suddenly that much sharper, all the more painful as he tries to find a flight plan, an angle of movement-
“I…” his voice is broken and lost and would rather be dead than admit this to the mech that he idolized more than anyone in existence. “I can’t.”
~*~*~*~
In the race to retreat he didn’t see Perceptor getting hit or heard him fall, but he saw the limp body as Kup and Ratchet pulled him down from Roadbuster’s back. “Don’t you ever dare die,” he gritted out, finally giving voice to the words he had thought at that moment and that had haunted him ever since, “you’re too damn important for us to loose.”
~*~*~*~
“All defensive and tactical systems have either been severely damaged or are burnt out,” Perceptor concludes, closing up the last of the access panels. “That’s caused several cascading systems failures as a direct result: telemetry, long range scans, probabilistic algorithms, acceleration projections- it is beyond our current abilities to repair.”
Springer hunches over, meek and useless and scared. “Kup… ‘m sorry.”
The reaction he gets is of genuine surprise. “Sorry? What’re you sorry for? If it weren’t for you, none of us would be here now and you’re the one that paid the price for our survival. We’re the ones grateful to you.”
“Except now I’m useless,” his fists trembles against his legs, “I can’t gauge distances, can’t act as ranged support, can’t act as air support, can’t utilize my leg thrusters, can’t do anything-“
“But you’re alive,” Kup cuts in coolly, “and you’re clever. That’s more than enough reason for me to know you’ll do us all good. You’ll find something you can do. Always have.”
Shadows hide Springer’s face, denta grinding together as he tries so desperately to keep from exploding because as useless as he is, as much deadweight as he’s become, lashing out won’t solve anything.
“Springer-“
He jerks to his feet, ignoring Perceptor’s hand and Kup’s knowing expression and storms out.
“Let ‘im alone for now, kid. He’ll sort it out.”
~*~*~*~
The footsteps were deliberately loud and Springer didn’t move- he knew who they belonged to. “How’s he been?”
“Alright,” Springer tilted his head slightly to acknowledge Kup. “Ratchet’s already cleared out the disruption codes and says his systems just need to purge what’s left of the chemical interference. He’ll be back on duty soon.”
“Good.” Kup’s focus didn’t waver once from Springer. “And you?”
“I’m alright.”
“Something on your mind?”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“A lotta thing.”
The audible gnawing halted for a klik as Kup studied the scientist. “Not that much.”
Springer couldn’t help a crooked smile. “No. Not that much.”
~*~*~*~
“Shoot?” Springer’s gotten tired of being in a permanent state of anger, now is only incredulous at the request. “What’d you mean?”
“I believe it would be beneficial to us all,” Perceptor says calmly, “if I could better handle a firearm.”
“You already know how to handle one.”
“With barely passable accuracy,” the admission of his shortcomings doesn’t seem to bother him at all. “It seems the best one to teach me would be you.”
Springer scowls, arms tight across his chestplate. “There’s others that can teach you.”
“No one else has the ranged experience you have.”
“If you want to become a sniper, you’ve got the wrong mech.”
“The distances you need to cover while in the air puts your skills far beyond the range of anyone on the ground and your ability to compensate for your flight path and several resistance variables makes you more accurate as well.”
Shame and anger starts shinning in his optics but Perceptor is still as polite and calm as ever. “Kup can teach you the mechanics-“
“Kup has enough responsibilities as it is.”
“Roadbuster-“
“Does not do precision fire, Blaster and Hot Rod are excellent marksmen but only in the mid-range or closer and Blurr and Drift are not much more proficient in firearms than I.” Then, all at once, that careful distance in Perceptor’s demeanor softens and he puts a hand to the triplechanger’s elbow. “I understand how you feel, Springer-“
“Do you,” he grits, optics blazing, “do you really? Do you understand just how useless and redundant I feel? I may as well not even exist for all the good I’m doing!”
“I do,” came the gentle answer, “because that’s how I’ve felt since joining Kup’s crew. Everyone here is trained for battle or has a special skill they can utilize. All I have is my intellect and that, as you’ve seen time and again, does little against the Swarm.” His lips press into a thin line and his optics are pleading. “Tell me how you are able to fire accurately from a distance, Springer. Help me help everyone else.”
His arms drop to his sides, all the more helpless now than ever before. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”
“Perhaps. But if I’m going to be here, I should do all I can.”
~*~*~*~
A soft groan filtered up from his side and Springer looked down to see a glow softly brightening Perceptor’s optics. “Welcome back,” he said in the deceptively easy way of his, “to the land of the functioning.”
“Springer? I… my head is… I can’t think straight…”
“It’ll pass, don’t worry,” he reached down and clasped Perceptor’s hand who clutched back almost desperately.
“My targeting array-“
“Ratchet said to keep it off until you’re done recalibrating. Said you don’t need the additional data screwing you up right now.”
“Are we,” his faceplates pinched, trying to fight his sluggish response time, “okay?”
Springer smiled sadly, “We are for now.”
~*~*~*~
He whistles out of his vents, lowering his binoculars. Beside him, bringing his rifle down to his side, Perceptor can’t help an accomplished grin. “Five out of five,” Springer claps a hand on the smaller mech’s shoulder. “I think you’re ready for some action.”