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ajremixMerry Christmas! Have a fic dump of all the things I've completed but haven't put up for reasons I can't exactly remember. Maybe quality control, I dunno. Hilariously, of course, about half of these are depressing. So, y'know, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
Title: A Matter of Timing
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 694
Characters: First Aid, Topspin
Summary: Sequel to Do No Harm. Things don't go any better the second time around.
First Aid's report was flawless. All critically injured survived, all the bots given delayed care were now stable and no one had been killed by flawed or insufficient care to their wounds when they were sent back to the field. Though casualties were suffered, First Aid took some measure of relief with the fact none of those were due to his actions or decisions.
The look Tri-cut was giving him, though, gave him worry.
"It isn't in your report."
"Sir?"
"The incident with the Wrecker."
First Aid could feel tension building in his cables. "It had no bearing on our procedures or the outcome of our work. I didn't see the necessity of including it."
"It happened in the middle of medical, did it not?"
"...yes, sir."
"In plain view of your assistants and the patients?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why did you feel it was necessary to get into an argument at such a time and place?"
“I tried being diplomatic,” First Aid said stiffly, “he was the one who became defensive and escalated-“
“And you responded,” Tri-cut shot back. “You caused that scene because you lost control of your emotions. You are a medic, First Aid. As such, you cannot afford these lapses. If you cannot handle the pressure of dealing with a problematic mech with patience and a cool head, how can you be trusted to perform without breaking? You snap at someone due to stress once, who is to say you would not snap again? We are medical technicians, First Aid. No matter what others say, we are the true reason the Decepticons have not overrun us yet.
“Medics must always be professional. Medics cannot afford breakdowns- especially not in front of patients. Doing so is detrimental to the trust others put into us being able to handle our jobs and entrusting their lives to us. Do you understand?” Tri-cut’s optics bore deep, burning and angry. “Do you understand why we cannot- under any circumstances cannot -allow our emotions to control us? If we break once, we can break just as easily again.”
Shame and helpless anger burned through First Aid's internals. What Tri-cut said was perfectly logical and First Aid knew it, but at the same time it felt like he was being betrayed by his superior officer and mentor. Surely of all mechs Tri-cut would have understood First Aid's perspective, his justified concerns, that it wasn't First Aid's fault the Wrecker had argued the issue.
Instead, Tri-cut just looked at him with detached disappointment. "Do not let this happen again, First Aid." He said simply before dismissing the younger mech with a hand.
Unable to do anything else, First Aid left.
~*~*~*~
By all accounts he didn't know why he was here- First Aid had already made more than apparent what he thought of Topspin. But then Topspin was never one to let feelings fester. If there was a neutral ground between the two of them, he wanted to get there as quick as possible instead of reliving the argument and angry emotions in his head.
So he waited down the hall from Tri-cut's office and when the young medic left, Topspin pushed himself off the wall and called out with a strained version of his usual, carefree grin. "Hey!"
First Aid turned, expression flat and looking at Topspin as if a second encounter was beneath him, "What?"
Topspin's shoulders shifted, stabilizers bobbing up and down, an uncomfortable reluctance in his stance. He gritted his denta beneath his smile, bullying himself into saying, "Look, we obviously didn't part under great circumstances the last time. I'm not apologizing for w hat I do, but I can understand why you-"
"I think," the smaller medic cut in, his tone as emotionally exhausted as his posture and the faded light of his optic band proved, "it would be best for both of us if we just stayed out of each other's way."
He pushed past Topspin without a word, without giving him another look. The Wrecker stood in the empty hall, angry and shut down. His fists clenched and legs moved stiffly as he growled to himself, "Whatever. I don't care anymore."
Title: A Matter of Timing
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 694
Characters: First Aid, Topspin
Summary: Sequel to Do No Harm. Things don't go any better the second time around.
First Aid's report was flawless. All critically injured survived, all the bots given delayed care were now stable and no one had been killed by flawed or insufficient care to their wounds when they were sent back to the field. Though casualties were suffered, First Aid took some measure of relief with the fact none of those were due to his actions or decisions.
The look Tri-cut was giving him, though, gave him worry.
"It isn't in your report."
"Sir?"
"The incident with the Wrecker."
First Aid could feel tension building in his cables. "It had no bearing on our procedures or the outcome of our work. I didn't see the necessity of including it."
"It happened in the middle of medical, did it not?"
"...yes, sir."
"In plain view of your assistants and the patients?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why did you feel it was necessary to get into an argument at such a time and place?"
“I tried being diplomatic,” First Aid said stiffly, “he was the one who became defensive and escalated-“
“And you responded,” Tri-cut shot back. “You caused that scene because you lost control of your emotions. You are a medic, First Aid. As such, you cannot afford these lapses. If you cannot handle the pressure of dealing with a problematic mech with patience and a cool head, how can you be trusted to perform without breaking? You snap at someone due to stress once, who is to say you would not snap again? We are medical technicians, First Aid. No matter what others say, we are the true reason the Decepticons have not overrun us yet.
“Medics must always be professional. Medics cannot afford breakdowns- especially not in front of patients. Doing so is detrimental to the trust others put into us being able to handle our jobs and entrusting their lives to us. Do you understand?” Tri-cut’s optics bore deep, burning and angry. “Do you understand why we cannot- under any circumstances cannot -allow our emotions to control us? If we break once, we can break just as easily again.”
Shame and helpless anger burned through First Aid's internals. What Tri-cut said was perfectly logical and First Aid knew it, but at the same time it felt like he was being betrayed by his superior officer and mentor. Surely of all mechs Tri-cut would have understood First Aid's perspective, his justified concerns, that it wasn't First Aid's fault the Wrecker had argued the issue.
Instead, Tri-cut just looked at him with detached disappointment. "Do not let this happen again, First Aid." He said simply before dismissing the younger mech with a hand.
Unable to do anything else, First Aid left.
~*~*~*~
By all accounts he didn't know why he was here- First Aid had already made more than apparent what he thought of Topspin. But then Topspin was never one to let feelings fester. If there was a neutral ground between the two of them, he wanted to get there as quick as possible instead of reliving the argument and angry emotions in his head.
So he waited down the hall from Tri-cut's office and when the young medic left, Topspin pushed himself off the wall and called out with a strained version of his usual, carefree grin. "Hey!"
First Aid turned, expression flat and looking at Topspin as if a second encounter was beneath him, "What?"
Topspin's shoulders shifted, stabilizers bobbing up and down, an uncomfortable reluctance in his stance. He gritted his denta beneath his smile, bullying himself into saying, "Look, we obviously didn't part under great circumstances the last time. I'm not apologizing for w hat I do, but I can understand why you-"
"I think," the smaller medic cut in, his tone as emotionally exhausted as his posture and the faded light of his optic band proved, "it would be best for both of us if we just stayed out of each other's way."
He pushed past Topspin without a word, without giving him another look. The Wrecker stood in the empty hall, angry and shut down. His fists clenched and legs moved stiffly as he growled to himself, "Whatever. I don't care anymore."
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no subject
Date: 2011-12-26 05:33 pm (UTC)