![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ajremixTitle: You and I Collide: On the Nature of Psyche
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: G
Word Count: 975
Characters: Springer, Roadbuster, Topspin
Summary: Repost. Some issues run deeper than expected.
When they’d gotten the call the reasoning behind the meeting (finding out what was up with Sandstorm) was enough that neither paid attention to how Springer sounded. So when he arrived at the office, stopped at the desk and threw out his arms to keep from tilting over, Topspin and Roadbuster exchanged glances.
“Had a, uh, post-work celebratory drink or several?” Topspin asked in amusement. Sometimes it was difficult to tell when Springer was overcharged. He would be perfectly coherent, and just as sharp as ever and he moved as assuredly on his feet as he could sober, but get him to stand in one spot and he’d likely fall over from a myriad of sensors and scopes overcompensating on him.
“Had some drinks with Silverbolt,” he muttered, preoccupied with keeping upright at that moment than anything else, “’bot can drink.” He had to sway from side to side to stay balanced.
“And what,” Roadbuster asked as he took Springer’s outstretched arm and led him to a seat, “were the two of you drinking?”
“Something Whirl cooked up. Can’t remember which- he never labels his mixes.”
As Springer sank gratefully in the chair, Roadbuster made a mental note to have Whirl go through and figure out how strong the missing cocktail was in case Topspin needed to hand out some relaxers at a later time (technically most of his mixes were contraband on missions, but when you need a good drink…). “What is it you called us here for?”
“Right, right.” Springer took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Spin, bring up the last cranial scan you got from Sandstorm, also pull up the ones from Xantium: the third-no, second scan he got after he joined up and the annual one after Scoop came on. Also the one before that and the last, last scan.”
For a moment Topspin wanted to ask if the triplechanger wasn’t more overcharged than he thought but a shrug from Roadbuster had him moving to a computer terminal. “Alright, gimme a klik.”
As they waited Springer reached out and tugged at Roadbuster’s wrist. “Remind me on some later date when we don’t have to worry about some midnight blitz to get Bolt completely thrashed.” He snickered to himself. “Guy’s a nut when he’s overcharged.”
“Of course.” Roadbuster hoped Springer wouldn’t remember that at all, actually.
“Here we go.” Topspin announced, bringing up all the results to be displayed simultaneously. “So what are we looking for?”
“Changes in efficiency levels.”
Still uncertain, the medic isolated the requested data. “You’re the chief.” The displays changed. “Again- what’re we looking for?”
Springer moved in closer, jabbing a finger almost triumphantly at the screen. “That.”
Topspin and Roadbuster exchanged glances. “How much did you drink really?”
“No, I’m serious. This is exactly what I was looking for. Severe dips in efficiency levels. Take a look at the dates of each of them and correlate them with how you recall Sandstorm acting.”
“This first one obviously,” Roadbuster said, “he was still wary of us. This one,” he tapped the pre-Scoop scan, “he had a fair handle on team dynamic.” The drop in the post-Scoop scan made him hesitate.
“Sandstorm kept mostly to himself.” Springer told them. “Until Scoop came on. You know him- always had to be friends with everyone and Sandstorm wasn’t one for making them.”
Topspin sat back, crossing his arms. “Come to think of it- Scoop was the first one of us to actually be friendly with him. He just kinda treated the rest of us like mechs he had to spend a lot of time with.”
Green fingers tapped each display in turn. “These drops in efficiency levels match up with the times Sandstorm was forced to reevaluate his relations with others. Constant close proximity with those he had to trust,” Springer pointed to the first then second, “making friends,” he pointed to the third drop, “and now Fireflight.”
“But why would he be bothered so much now?”
There was a pause and Springer hesitated before saying, “I think Sandstorm genuinely cares about Fireflight.”
“What?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know if it’s true but- look,” Springer reached over, minimizing almost all the scan results except for the last which he brought up to reveal all the data. “These numbers here correlate with how relaxed and rested he was. That was the first night he stayed with Fireflight.”
Roadbuster crossed his arms, not following. “The first time he ever missed a timeframe.”
“Think about it- what happens the first night I stay over with Arcee or Hot Rod after a long separation?”
“You’re damn near impossible to get up the next day.” Understanding dawned on them. “Wait…”
“You think Fireflight…”
Springer nodded a little grimly. “Something about Fireflight comforts him, even if he doesn’t actively realize it. And just as inactively he realizes he shouldn’t be as comfortable or care for him as much as he does and that’s why the conflicting numbers.”
Roadbuster slowly stood back. “Oh no. This is bad.”
Topspin boggled. “It’s bad?”
“It’s very bad.” Springer nodded.
“How?”
“Think about, once Sandstorm realizes how much he cares for Fireflight- how much power Fireflight has over him –what do you think he’s going to do?”
Topspin’s optics went wide behind his visor. “Oh… This is bad.”
The three Wreckers fell silent, looking beyond the monitor and trying to figure out what was going to happen. Eventually Topspin turned to Springer. “What do we do?”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “We really can’t do anything.” He said eventually. “We’ll just have to hope that when Sandstorm does figure this out, the idea that he might actually, honestly love someone won’t frighten him as much as I’ll bet it will.”
They sat quietly again. Until Topspin blurted out the thought in all their processors. “He’s fragged.”
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: G
Word Count: 975
Characters: Springer, Roadbuster, Topspin
Summary: Repost. Some issues run deeper than expected.
When they’d gotten the call the reasoning behind the meeting (finding out what was up with Sandstorm) was enough that neither paid attention to how Springer sounded. So when he arrived at the office, stopped at the desk and threw out his arms to keep from tilting over, Topspin and Roadbuster exchanged glances.
“Had a, uh, post-work celebratory drink or several?” Topspin asked in amusement. Sometimes it was difficult to tell when Springer was overcharged. He would be perfectly coherent, and just as sharp as ever and he moved as assuredly on his feet as he could sober, but get him to stand in one spot and he’d likely fall over from a myriad of sensors and scopes overcompensating on him.
“Had some drinks with Silverbolt,” he muttered, preoccupied with keeping upright at that moment than anything else, “’bot can drink.” He had to sway from side to side to stay balanced.
“And what,” Roadbuster asked as he took Springer’s outstretched arm and led him to a seat, “were the two of you drinking?”
“Something Whirl cooked up. Can’t remember which- he never labels his mixes.”
As Springer sank gratefully in the chair, Roadbuster made a mental note to have Whirl go through and figure out how strong the missing cocktail was in case Topspin needed to hand out some relaxers at a later time (technically most of his mixes were contraband on missions, but when you need a good drink…). “What is it you called us here for?”
“Right, right.” Springer took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Spin, bring up the last cranial scan you got from Sandstorm, also pull up the ones from Xantium: the third-no, second scan he got after he joined up and the annual one after Scoop came on. Also the one before that and the last, last scan.”
For a moment Topspin wanted to ask if the triplechanger wasn’t more overcharged than he thought but a shrug from Roadbuster had him moving to a computer terminal. “Alright, gimme a klik.”
As they waited Springer reached out and tugged at Roadbuster’s wrist. “Remind me on some later date when we don’t have to worry about some midnight blitz to get Bolt completely thrashed.” He snickered to himself. “Guy’s a nut when he’s overcharged.”
“Of course.” Roadbuster hoped Springer wouldn’t remember that at all, actually.
“Here we go.” Topspin announced, bringing up all the results to be displayed simultaneously. “So what are we looking for?”
“Changes in efficiency levels.”
Still uncertain, the medic isolated the requested data. “You’re the chief.” The displays changed. “Again- what’re we looking for?”
Springer moved in closer, jabbing a finger almost triumphantly at the screen. “That.”
Topspin and Roadbuster exchanged glances. “How much did you drink really?”
“No, I’m serious. This is exactly what I was looking for. Severe dips in efficiency levels. Take a look at the dates of each of them and correlate them with how you recall Sandstorm acting.”
“This first one obviously,” Roadbuster said, “he was still wary of us. This one,” he tapped the pre-Scoop scan, “he had a fair handle on team dynamic.” The drop in the post-Scoop scan made him hesitate.
“Sandstorm kept mostly to himself.” Springer told them. “Until Scoop came on. You know him- always had to be friends with everyone and Sandstorm wasn’t one for making them.”
Topspin sat back, crossing his arms. “Come to think of it- Scoop was the first one of us to actually be friendly with him. He just kinda treated the rest of us like mechs he had to spend a lot of time with.”
Green fingers tapped each display in turn. “These drops in efficiency levels match up with the times Sandstorm was forced to reevaluate his relations with others. Constant close proximity with those he had to trust,” Springer pointed to the first then second, “making friends,” he pointed to the third drop, “and now Fireflight.”
“But why would he be bothered so much now?”
There was a pause and Springer hesitated before saying, “I think Sandstorm genuinely cares about Fireflight.”
“What?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know if it’s true but- look,” Springer reached over, minimizing almost all the scan results except for the last which he brought up to reveal all the data. “These numbers here correlate with how relaxed and rested he was. That was the first night he stayed with Fireflight.”
Roadbuster crossed his arms, not following. “The first time he ever missed a timeframe.”
“Think about it- what happens the first night I stay over with Arcee or Hot Rod after a long separation?”
“You’re damn near impossible to get up the next day.” Understanding dawned on them. “Wait…”
“You think Fireflight…”
Springer nodded a little grimly. “Something about Fireflight comforts him, even if he doesn’t actively realize it. And just as inactively he realizes he shouldn’t be as comfortable or care for him as much as he does and that’s why the conflicting numbers.”
Roadbuster slowly stood back. “Oh no. This is bad.”
Topspin boggled. “It’s bad?”
“It’s very bad.” Springer nodded.
“How?”
“Think about, once Sandstorm realizes how much he cares for Fireflight- how much power Fireflight has over him –what do you think he’s going to do?”
Topspin’s optics went wide behind his visor. “Oh… This is bad.”
The three Wreckers fell silent, looking beyond the monitor and trying to figure out what was going to happen. Eventually Topspin turned to Springer. “What do we do?”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “We really can’t do anything.” He said eventually. “We’ll just have to hope that when Sandstorm does figure this out, the idea that he might actually, honestly love someone won’t frighten him as much as I’ll bet it will.”
They sat quietly again. Until Topspin blurted out the thought in all their processors. “He’s fragged.”
