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pastelgrungewrecker · 2 years ago

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Drache || Sg || Au of an Au of an Au

Don't try to reach me, 'cause I'll tear up your mind I've seen the future and I've left it behind

[“It’s destabilizing.”, sighed Stormy, knuckles rubbing at his temple to mitigate the headache from a sixteen hour binge in New Kimia’s labs as his double rested his head on the dining room table, “I. I can’t fucking figure out why, why NOW- But something’s wrong. Paradox doubles are bleeding through in heavier and heavier numbers, all of them saying they were guided by some kind. Some kind of weird leader.”

“Weird leader? Like a resistance?”, asked Perceptor as Percy stirred his coffee and tilted his head.

“Something in. I think it’s some lingua franca from a fringe colony maybe. Klinky Saga or something?”

“Strange.”, said Percy, the more flamboyant of the doubled Perceptors, before he sipped his coffee, “It almost sounds like old central Iaconian; from before Neo became the preferred speech?”

“Yes, perhaps.”, mused Perceptor, “Try to say it again?”

“Klayne Shagh?”

“Kleyne Shlang.”, said Ratchet from the kitchen as his double looked up, “Means little or young dragon, I think. Some of the old’ns in Vaporex spoke a language modified slightly from auld Iaconian; it’s actually still mostly spoken around where Ma lives.”

“Strange. I wonder why that moniker.”]

Sightless eyes watched the ship engage, a hand covered in a dirty glove didn’t bother to rise to shield a visor as the engines fired up and the shuttle vanished into the nightdark in silence and flickers of miniature sunbeams like a comet.

He turned, looking behind him and away from the Rift in the sky like a bleeding wound as he saw the Hell Horizon of the approaching battalions of the False God’s ships. He cracked his knuckles, tapping the side of the digivisor and whispering his commands.

“Server- destruct. Permissions code 8 dash 6 6 0 dash 3 5 7 7.”

::Permissions accepted, server wipe in t-minus 5...::

He smiled, mirthless and cold, and bolted for the two-man shuttle he’d had waiting on standby. The door hissed closed after him, his digivisor sending the activation codes to the shuttles main console and firing up the idle engines to max in seconds- jarring his passenger awake with a groan.

“Bout time. Thought I’d have to-nngh. Leave without ya.”

“As if you have the ability to stay awake, much less steer Captain.”, was the deadpan answer, “Stop forcing yourself to stay aware, let the sedatives work their magic- you’re gravely injured you know.”

“Yeah, well. Optimus ain’t exactly one to fuck around when it comes to finding out he’s wrong.”

“Hush, Rodimus.”, was the sighed command.

“That’s no way to talk to your old Cap’n, Aid.”

“Not a Captain anymore- The Last Light is rubble and this is my shuttle.”, Was First Aid’s soft answer as he took his seat and heard the distant rumble of carpet-bombing beginning to commence. He paused a moment, closing his eyes in a brief second of grieving for his fourth home lost to the ego of a mad God and then steadied himself. The soft trills and twitters of the console accepting his commands as his hands moved without him looking and he cocked an ear towards the badly beaten man in the passenger side.

“...I’m sorry we lost Magnus.”, was the curt statement.

“...Least we got the twins.”, was Rodimus’s reply, nodding his head to the darkened side of the shuttles interior where two teenage boys slept the sleep of the medicated- each sporting matching black eyes and nose patches, “That’s the important thing. That.. NeoCreator program... Why did Prowl even think it would wo-”

And with that, the shuttle took off at beyond breakneck speed; Rodimus wincing loudly and the twin boys snorting awake with shocked yelps in tandem. They steadied quickly, the Rift rising high in their vision through the heavy window of the shuttle before First Aid snapped the shuttle’s covers closed and dropped them into darkness.

“So. Why the nickname. Little Dragon? Sounds like a cartoon character for younglings learning their colors.”

“It’s something of a signal. To the right people on the other side.”, said First Aid with a grim smile, “...Assuming, of course- they made it. I hope they did- or I’m doomed and you’re dead and so are the boys.”

“Draw made it through.”, grumbled one of the boys with a yawn, “I know he did. His trackers are all still active.”

“Prowl’s trackers, you mean?”

“Nah, his own. He gave me the signal frequency just in case he uh. Vanished on Kimia for No Good Reason.”

“Aw, how sweet. You’re boyfriend taught you how to stalk him-”

“Shut up Forge, you fucking donkey-”

“Boys, no fuckin’ swearing!”

“Hold tight, engaging Rift in Five...”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

Another comet in a distant night sky as rolling death drifted over the last vestiges of a paradox planet, smoke billowing from the ruins left behind.

On the other side of the Rift; the sky darkened like an electric storm- the terrifying expulsions of electricity that plagued the planet in the time before history could be remembered.

Twin Ratchets ran themselves ragged as power flickered, as generators were kicked and revved awake and lines were checked with an obsessive frequency. The sky was pitch black and the Rift pulsed in the sky like a visible tear in an artery, like a threat without words.

Blue eyes watched, too dark coffee was drunk too fast because sometimes chemicals could be a lifeline.

“What is on your mind, double?”, asked a modified medic with an amused snort.

A sigh, a hand through still vibrantly red hair.

“I’m just thinkin’ about what Stormy said, that he’d found out about the paradox doubles coming through the Rift. They keep saying they’re being.. Directed? Sent? By someone.”

“Oho, another ragtag attempt at resisting my people’s Optimus. Goody-goody.”, was the exhausted mutter, “Do tell, what grand title did this one use.”

“It almost sounds. Childish. Cartoonish. Like a nickname, y’know?”

“Mhm. Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“It’s old Teorrex, for Little Dragon. Sounds like a cartoon charac- GGGHK!”

And suddenly, Ratchet is faced with a mad-eyed double, modified hand cinched around a strong neck and pulling them close enough for him to see fear and the flickers of enhancements in glimmering eyes.

“ARE YOU SURE. ARE YOU CERTAIN-”

“Y-hgk-YES NOW LEMME GO BEFORE I CHOKE ASSHOLE-”

He was released with apologies, whispered and almost frantic and suddenly Ratchet is watching his wilder twin skitter about like a spooked deer, snatching up things like keycard rings and digging about in desk drawers for-

“IS THAT A FUCKING PISTOL.”

“Yes, yes it fucking is!”, hissed the more vicious of the pair, “I have to go, I need to get to the Rift immediately-”

“Wh- What, hey wait WHY after hearin’ that silly name are you running off like a Petrex hen with it’s head lopped off-”

“Drache.”

A pause.

A sigh from the modified medic that seemed to deflate him and his ego at once, “Drache was a nickname Prowl had for me. Dragon, in auld Iaconian. It was... Not quite an inside joke, more likely it was derogatory because of his jealousy and, well. The fact he was absolutely out of his mind with zealotry. But Little Dragon as a name isn’t a name or a title. It’s a signal.”

“A signal?”

“Yes. The little me. The smaller me- That nickname could be First Aid on the run again; since I am gone, and he was CMO of the Last Light then... then when Optimus reclaimed it he...”

“...He woulda forced your Aid to become his medic, thinking your Aid could keep him alive like you used to.”

“Exactly. That name can’t be an accident- Not with how clever my boy is. Now; I have to go- I have to go and make sure; The Rift is acting up obviously, and it does this before a horde pushes through.”

Then the sky crackled alive with fingers of electricity and the Rift seemed to glow brighter and almost wider as the noses of shuttles pushed through, looking like a shark’s teeth growing in due to the the distance from the planet’s surface.

“Get goin’ then! I can hold down this place, I’ve held down worse now GIT!”

A mod from the modded double and he snatched his day coat, hurriedly pulling it on to flare behind him as he ran- polished leather shoes silent on the sanitized tiles as he barged through doors and out into the street.

Hurriedly, his vehicle rumbled to life, the dashcomm activating when he babbled his verbal code and his modded hands nearly dented the steering as he gripped onto it.

“Mmn, hello dear- Just woke up from a nap; wait, you should still be on shift love, love what is it-”

“Aid’s coming.”, he choked out as his speed climbed higher. His eyes burned almost like they needed to grieve as hope climbed too high behind a reinforced chest, “It’s Aid, love. I know it is. Double told me the name the Riftrunners have been giving.”

“What name, oh, the whole little dra...gon...”, Percy’s voice trailed off, and then silence before a breathless half sob leaked through, “Oh God. Oh God that’s right, Prowl always called you that stupid fucking name and Aid was. You made him CMO before...”

“I did. I shouldn’t have god DAMMIT I’ve never been stupider- Hell in a handbasket this is the biggest horde through the Rift yet-”

The commline dropped as his vehicle’s motors died with a shriek; as massive shuttles drifted through with scalds and scorchmarks all along the sides and stamped with city names he could feel were long gone.

He stumbled out, jacket flapping in the heated downdrafts that kept bursting through in random intervals and then he saw it- as the last shuttle pushed through and the Rift began to shrink back down to it’s usual size once more.

He saw it, careening crookedly through the sky at an uncontrolled angle with red lights bright along each side... and the Mad Mod Medic began to run. He shouldered past Enforcers and field medics, modified eyes on the sky and blown wide as enhancements zoomed in best they could; soot dusted his clothes as he got ever closer to the hellscape of a landing zone the massive shuttles had chosen as their own systems gave out and he watched in sudden and new terror as the much smaller spacecraft spiralled down and slammed into the ground at what he prayed was not terminal velocity.

And he ran. He felt the singe of seams in clothes overheating as he got closer and closer to the still bubbling hull and gagged as he breathed too deep the fumes of burning protectant coatings and crackling systems.

He pounded his fist on the shuttle’s visible and half melted door, bellowing a name loud enough for his forgotten God to hear.

“MULLEIN, MULLEIN ARE YOU IN THERE, CAN YOU HEAR ME!!”

The trill of the lock releasing, and a crackle in his earpiece comm.

“Papa, hel-”, and static.

He ran his hands over the shuttle door, looking for any point to get a grip on even as he heard Enforcers behind him.

“Sir, hands up, this is a restricted zone-”

“MY SON IS IN HERE NOW STEP DOWN OR YOU NEVER SEE YOUR FAMILIES AGAIN!”

Steam trickled from between megalodon’s teeth, eyes wide and glowing in unholy glimmers of green and blue and sickly hazmat yellow. He turned back, snarling again and flexing modified hands to expose knifelike claw implants that had long ago replaced fingernails. Still simmering metal screamed like it was in pain as he dug hands into where seams once were before the Rift burned it all together, and he began to pull. He pulled until he felt shoulders creak, until the nanomodded heart in his chest seemed to scream in time with the steel and he had to pause- coughing toxicity and pressure steam before his moved his head to crack his neck and start again.

Inside the shuttle, Aid coughed weakly; Halfway through the push through the Rift internal oxygenation systems had failed. He had masked the twin boys and Rodimus but all three had fallen unconscious as sedatives and lack of air slowly began to overtake them.

And Aid had simply tried to breath quick and soft and small; just like all those years ago when his Nana bundled him close and told him to breathe by her heart; when the air was hot like it was now, when the smoke tasted acrid where it leaked in from the crash and it smelled like Vaporex burning.

And then, there was light. Flashlight.

Flashlights illuminating a broad-shouldered silhouette with shimmering eyes and a crisp-shouldered businessman’s coat.

“H-Hello. Father.”, rasped First Aid as his digivisor finally shorted out, “Rodim-s. Stitches. Not holding-”

Aid passed out then, feeling his body relax and weaken as the bellows of unfamiliar voices called for breather masks and oxygen tanks. As he felt familiar modified and calloused hands reach in after the weight of Rodimus and the boys was moved from the broad chest he inherited from Optimus’s right hand medic.

The paradox Ratchet stood tall, Enforcers backing away at the few mods that had activated in his panic and fury and he lifted his Aid from the destroyed shuttle and held him close.

“Call the New Iacon Research Hospital.”, he rasped, “Call the red Ratchet.”

{The between place glimmered like the Rift. Aid looked around, touching his face and knowing he was dreaming because his vision was so very bright. His steps clacked like he walked the halls of an afterlife his Nana once pondered the existence of.

“Mullein. Lee, my baby.”

He turned, recognizing that voice.

“Nana! Nana where are you!”

“Foller my voice, young’n. Your papa’s worried sick now.”

“NANA! NANA WAIT WAIT FOR ME!”

“Oh baby- it ain’t time for you t’follow me so far yet.”, were the words that echoed around him as his temples began to throb, “Jus’ follow m’voice. I’m so proud a’you li’l one. Now g’wan. Your Papa is so worr-”}

-”ied about you. And so am I, my sweet boy.”

“Nana!”

Aid sat bolt upright, seeing only vague shadowy grey shapes once more before something clicked near his ear and his digivisor flickered back into activation to once more give him his crystalline color vision.

Percy sniffed grandly, eye swollen and red, “Oh my baby- you c-c-cAME HOME!”

He grunted as Percy threw himself against Aid’s chest, and his arms went around his Baba on instinct and he looked slowly around with a hard wince.

“Head is POUNDING-”

“You were on the way out young’n.”

He whipped his head to the side, instinctively reaching for a sidearm he realized he no longer had, “...Father?”

“Nah, well. Kinda? I’m... his double. His paradox twin. The Rift it... Leads to our universe. Our version of it, anyway.”

Aid raised his eyebrows, “...This has to be a joke.”

“It’s not.”, was the sigh on his other side, and he turned- and couldn’t help the shrieked swear as he clung tight to his Baba and made the vampiric sniper wheeze.

The double Aid’s stared at each other, the sighted one moving his visor up to show the entirety of his annoyed expression, “Get it out now, dude- I really don’t want a repeat of the Brainstorm’s okay? If you’re gonna try and kill me, do it now-”

“The Warmaster. Is here.”, were the growled words that made several eyes widen slightly, “And WHERE is that rude, narcissistic, borderline nymphomaniacal ratfink.”

“Uhm. Well, he is with his Quickdraw. They’ve been sitting with the Rodimus you brought in and the twin boys. His Quickdraw was rather antsy about them all.”

“Yeah, he and young Dominus the Second have been an item since they started their study years not long before the Rift.”

“...Right. Uh, anyway yeah! That’s where he is; with our daughter also, she was fussy and I didn’t think you needed a crying toddler in the room coming back from nearly suffocating.”

“YOU PROCREATED WITH THAT PILE OF MISMATCHED ALLELES, ARE YOU BRAINDEAD OR SIMPLY MENTAL?!”

“HEY, THAT’S MY HUSBAND YOU’RE ACCUSING OF BEING A MENTAL ILLNESS, NOW-”

“YOUR HUSBAND ONCE SENT ME A VOICE CLIP OF HIM BRAGGING ABOUT RAILING MY BABA BECAUSE I REMINDED HIM HE WAS SCARED OF FATHER!”

“HE WHAT?!”

And with those words, a modified hand gently landed on top of dark waves cut through with auburn highlights.

“Storm’s sins against you aside, son.”, rumbled a familiar voice, “Welcome back from the brink.”

He turned his head back to see his Father, face tired and reddened near the edges of modified eyes. Aid twitched his nose, his version of a squint.

“Father. You have been crying. You know that can corrode the facial circuitry-”

And then words were muffled as both Percy and the newer Aid were enveloped in a breath-killing hug; tight enough to make natural spines creak.

Aid coughed weakly, patting at his father to be released and hiding his grin at the show of emotion.

Percy held his son’s face, frantically peering about and checking for any more damage before Aid sighed and laid his hands on Percy’s.

“Baba, I’m alright now.”

“I know, I know but. What would have possessed you to do something so bloody RASH?! What if he had killed you?!”

“He was going to.”, said Aid softly, jumping slightly as his double crossed his arms to lean against the wall, “Something’s gone... terribly wrong. There’s been disappearances in the higher echelons- nobility vanishing without a trace, prisoners being found in pieces in their cells with very particular parts missing.”

The paradox Ratchet’s jaw set in a grim line, “...He’s decaying.”

“Yeah, he is.”, sighed Aid, “He thought for some reason I knew how to replicate Father’s remedies and when he realized I couldn’t, well. He sent Rodimus after me... with another agent.”

“Who?”

“...The Executioner. Magnus.”

The room went cold, and the sighted Aid glanced from face to face before looking at his own papa and staying silent by the look in his eyes.

“The planet on that side of the Rift is. Dying. Maybe already dead. The Matrix’s corruption is overtaking the False God faster than he can be put back together and he’s finally gone totally mad. I had to evacuate who I could. I had to, Baba.”

Aid hung his head, “...I couldn’t let Vaporex happen all over again, not while I could do something.”

A sigh, “That’s why you used that name. You knew I and your Baba had gone through. You knew, if I were alive, I’d pick up on it.”

“I’d expect Der Drache to know his hatchling was trying to get safe.”

A chuckle, “You’ve done well, First Aid.”

A softly hopeful twitch to a mouth that this universe’s Aid remembered having all too many times.

“I’ve never been more proud of you.”

“....Not even when I blackmailed Prowl into bankrolling my first single-shuttle?”

“This is even better than that- but only just.”

There was a knock at the door, the sound of a nurse’s voice calling gently, “Pardon me, a visitor for- uhm. kleyne.. something, oh dear.”

“Send them in.”, rumbled both Ratchet’s in unison before giving a half hearted squint to each other.

The door slammed open then, and the nurse yelped as the figure in the doorway grunted and the medical boot on their leg thudded into the room. He leaned against the doorframe, giving an exhaustedly fond look to the Aid on the bed.

“Kiddo, when you tol’ me you’d be tailin’ in a shuttle you coulda TOLD ME that the shuttle you was tailin’ in had injured aboard.”

“Sorry, Uncle Hide. You were worried enough shepherding the refugees and I needed you crisp and alert just in case it all went tits up tango, so to speak.”

“HIDE?!”

Ironhide, or the paradox double of him, looked up and grinned before digging in a pocket and pulling out the remnants of a cigar and tucking it between his teeth, “You and Percy pumped out a helluva rebel there Ratch. He made his Nana proud. Twice an’ double, he saved.”

The unmodified medic watched in amusement as his modded double bolted at the speed of too fast, barreling into the paradox Ironhide and crushing him into a near-pneumatic hug.

“L-Lemme fuckin’ go you gotdamn hellhound, they JUST stabilized m’spinal rods again!”

#pastelwrites #ot6 and then some au

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