Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1.

It all went off without a hitch.

[Redacted] couldn’t believe it. Everything Onslaught explained from the moment the guards slipped up to breaking into the armory played out like the mech was a psychic who could foresee the future. It was the most impressive thing [Redacted] had ever witnessed, and she admired him. How could she not? He’s the only person on this planet who saw her as another simple Cybertronian. A broken one nonetheless, yet he didn’t hesitate to help her when she needed it the most.

She’s standing in the middle of the hall, listening to Onslaught give a rally speech while a handful of other prisoners raid the armory. Everyone is either shouting or cheering, showing their appreciation toward Onslaught before they rush to other parts of the prison, leaving a path of destruction and a few wounded guards pure the navy blue mech’s orders. [Redacted] finds it odd, yet she knows she still has much to learn.

“Here.” Onslaught grabs her attention before holding out a gun for her. She stares at it, looks up at the taller mech, and then glances back down to take it from his grasp. Her helm slanting as she holds it flat with her servos.

The truck chuckles with a smile, making [Redacted] peer up again. Oh, how she adored that look on his face and wanted to find it in herself to pull it off. At most, her lip would curve slightly to form a small one.

“Let me show you.” Onslaught states as he steps behind her and moves her servos to hold the weapon properly, pressing the end of the gun against her shoulder while aiming it perfectly straight. “This is how you hold it, and anytime you want to pull the trigger you lean into the stock because it’s got a kick to it.” He explains while pushing her shoulder into the weapon as the other servo points out the trigger, and then motions her to move forward.

[Redacted] follows the instructions while keeping the weapon steady, getting a feel of it and only stopping when she hears one of the injured guards and looks toward them.

Onslaught steps around to stand beside her, pushing the weapon down and aiming it at them. “This is what they’re used for. To protect ourselves and eliminate those who try to stop us from having our freedom.”

She looks up at him puzzled, almost questioning him but the look in her optics does it for her.

“They may be injured and unarmed now, but what do you think they plan on doing once they get repaired and properly supplied?”

Ah, well that takes care of the confusion she had earlier.

“I don’t expect you to fire right away. First times can be-”

The rest of the sentence is never heard as she looks back and squeezes the trigger, releasing a loud sound and making her shoulder sting in the process. It creates a new wave of feelings she doesn’t remember experiencing before. An adrenaline rush where her spark is racing and she feels shocked and for once, proud of herself for pulling through.

[Redacted] steps over to them while lowering the gun. She stares at the mech crying in pain from the new wound on the side of their chassis as energon bleeds out. Completely focused on the damage and the sounds coming from them all because of her. She raises the gun to the mech’s helm, who begins to plea to be spared but she doesn’t budge. [Redacted] is determined and excited to finish what she started and presses the trigger again.

Blood sprays across her face after the helm explodes from the close-range blast. For a moment she stares blankly at the mess, the beautiful artwork of her destruction like everyone else has been doing during the prison break. She reaches up to touch her face, feeling the blood and the edge of her lip curved into a smile that she wasn’t even aware she was doing. One that appears bigger than the small ones she normally gives.

[Redacted] holds her servo in front of her to gaze at the blood before returning her attention to the dead mech in front of her.

And for the first time in her life, she laughs.

----------

2.

:: You got a bogey on your six. ::

Vortex groans. There’s no such thing as a ‘Con going for a simple flight anywhere near human-populated areas on this planet. It’s not Cybertron, but Earth had some decent spots to soar through the skies, view beautiful sights, and don’t even get him started on those tornadoes that form. Unfortunately, the small fragile fleshlings ruin it by contacting the Autobots once they catch a glimpse of anything Decepticon suspicious.

And okay, maybe he did fly too low to the ground to spook them. He couldn’t help it when they got scared so easily.

:: Please tell me it’s- ::

:: No. :: Blast Off huffs out. :: Scanners show it’s a plane or jet, not piloted by a human. ::

:: Greeaaaat. :: His day could not get any more annoying. Besides his rival, the only Autobot fliers were a pacifist scientist, a glorified human lover, and the aerial combiner team who acted like they ruled the skies. The Combaticon attempts to lose them in the clouds, but his HUD picks up an oncoming missile that comes in fast and hits his tail rotor before he can even react.

“Haha! Gotcha Decepti-creep!”

Unable to continue flying, Vortex transforms and spins around to see the Aerialbot, also known as Air Raid, charging at him. Using whatever momentum he has left, he sends himself crashing right into them. His visor glares at the enemy as he punches a servo into the jet’s cockpit, aiming straight for the control panel while the other grips the wing flap. If he’s going down, he’s bringing the flier wannabe with him.

The Autobot transforms to fight back and it’s a battle of who gets to be the other’s cushion when plummeting into the ground. Needless to say, they both equally take the impact when crashing into a neighborhood, destroying multiple houses before they finally skid to a stop. Any humans who weren’t caught in the collision were screaming, running for their lives, or staying in their homes for protection.

Vortex doesn’t waste a second getting back up, ignoring any injuries he sustained including the damage to his knee joint, he limps over to the downed Aerialbot readying his weapon, and snatches it from him. “You are in for it now.” The Combaticon claims as he steps on the 'Bot and uses the weapon as a club to strike Air Raid’s face multiple times.

Air Raid spits out energon and looks confidently up at the Combaticon. “Upset that you won’t be flying anytime soon?”

The question is met with another bash to the Autobot’s face. “I might be unable to fly for a couple of days…” Vortex states while bringing the weapon down again. “But they’ll need to rebuild your face from scratch…” And again. “Once.” Whack. “I’m.” Whack. “Done.” Whack. “With.” Whack. “You.”
Whack.

The gun breaks making the copter look at it before tossing it aside. He looks down at the Aerialbot, his beaten face almost unrecognizable with pieces of it all around him and pooling in energon. Air Raid attempts to say something and Vortex leans over with a gleam in his visor.

“Upset you won’t be using that vain mouth of yours~?” The Combaticon deeply chuckles while leaning away and catching Blast Off landing a distance from him. He turns to limp over to his teammate.

:: Are you forgetting something? ::

Vortex slants his helm as he points back at the Autobot with his thumb. “That one? Please…”

“They are not worth it.”

----------

3.

Swindle loved valuable things. Vortex enjoyed getting his servos dirty.

This wasn’t good news for anyone.

Especially to a high-class Cybertronian who kept a precious gem in his spark casing. Only a few were made and he carried the single one that remained on Cybertron, much to a con mech’s disappointment. Thankfully this is where a certain vicious companion can get this difficult job done for him.

The copter stands by to hear all the details from Swindle, everything from where the ceremony occurs to who will appear, including security measures. No detail gets left out and even though Vortex finds himself bored out of his mind having to listen to it all, he does so with courtesy. At the end of the day, it’s a job where he only gets one shot to get what’s acquired. Otherwise, the mech will likely go into hiding or put the gem where it’d be impossible to get from, leaving Swindle empty-handed and upset.

So here the grey Combaticon is, hovering way above in the skies over the blocked-off area where the Conjunx Endura tradition is taking place. There was an option to be a security detail, but he would rather lose his audials than hear all that emotional talk.

“Attention flier! This is a restricted area and you need to leave immediately.”

Vortex spots the unexpected visitor and transforms into his root mode. He stares at them with a confused look, even making hand gestures as if he has no idea what the security guard told him.

The mech attempts to get him to leave verbally but Vortex still pulls the game of not understanding, so they approach with a datapad to type out what they are trying to explain. Except they never get the chance to show it as the Combaticon slices their throat, cutting deep enough to hit all the major cables and make them fall straight down to where the ceremony is taking place while the grey copter follows.

Consider this as his congratulatory gift.

He watches as the body comes crashing down right beside the couple, hitting the ground with a crunching sound of metal breaking and everything else exploding upon impact. It catches everyone off guard, and what perfect timing for Vortex to land beside the new Enduras where the mech has his spark casing exposed. Gem revealed too.

Vortex brings the blade down on the mech’s neck and uses him as a shield while pulling out a gun to shoot the guards in the area. He makes sure he’s in the clear before delivering the final bullet to the high-class sucker straight between the optics. The gun gets put away to yank the gem from the spark casing and removes the blade to push the corpse back.

Easier than anticipated. He’ll have to remind Swindle to tone down the briefing next time and stick to the basics. Even if it is a pricey item or a tough task, the copter can handle it without a problem.

The sounds of someone on the verge of sobbing make him peer away from the gem and see the partner of the mech still standing there. Completely frozen from the events that took place right in front of her or simply too afraid to move.

“Hi~” Vortex greets with a servo on his hip and tossing the gem in the air. He places it in his sub-space while following the femme’s optics to her dead Conjunx Endura then back to her. “Don’t worry… how’s that saying go… there are other opportunities out there for you.”

After getting no response, he shrugs and walks off stage with a skip in his step, enjoying the music still playing in the background along with the distant screams of everyone else.

Now this is the kind of wedding he liked attending.

Perhaps he should grab some dessert on the way out.

----------

4.

“I have to tell you something.”

Vortex continues playing with a colorful cube he grabbed from First Aid’s desk in his workplace. He’s sitting across from him with his legs propped up and crossed in the corner of the table, distracted by this puzzle game he can never figure out.

“Vortex.” First Aid sighs as he places the datapad he’s holding down. He almost reaches out to grab the cube from Vortex until he speaks up.

“You know if you need to say something it’s better if you just rip the plating off and get it out.” The copter replies while he still fidgets with the cube, although when he doesn’t hear the medic speak up he finally takes his sight off the puzzle to peer over to them. His helm tilts to the side as he watches First Aid stare a hole into his desk. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Wha-” The red mech stumbles his words before looking at the copter. “No! It’s-” He sighs rubbing his helm with a servo and peering away for a moment before returning his attention. “I’m joining the Lost Light before it leaves Cybertron… again.”

The Combaticon throws his helm back laughing and stops when noticing First Aid’s expression hasn’t changed. “You can’t be serious.” He responds, disappointed as he moves his legs off the table to turn and face the medic. “Why? To chase that dumb rumor of finding Knights?” Vortex questions while placing the cube on the desk.

“It’s more than that.” As First Aid speaks he reaches out to take the puzzle from Vortex and places it back on the display it normally stays on. “They need more medics, Ratchet is there and-”

“What about me?”

Silence fills the room as the two stare at each other. One with a determined look while the other felt like they were gambling their choices on what to say.

“You could join.” The red and white mech finally speaks up, knowing well enough it’s not the answer Vortex is looking for. “The others can too.”

“On a ship, full of Autobots?” He vents out with a huff. “Yeah, I’ll pass. I know that Magnus mech is there and he’d arrest all of us simply for existing, and don’t even get me started on Megatron.” The teal copter places his servos on the desk as he gets up, but his arm is grabbed before he can turn away.

“Hey, wait…”

“Aid there’s nothing you can say or do that’ll change my mind.” Vortex declares while grabbing the medic’s servo to remove it. “I refuse to participate in that pointless pursuit while in a ship where I’ll have to watch over my shoulder the entire time.”

“Vortex I-”

The Combaticon places a claw against First Aid’s lip. “Don’t. You made your decision.” He pulls his servo away and turns to make his way to the exit. The door slides open and he’s unable to look back as he knows he’d be met with that look of distress on their face. “I’ll be here when… if you come back.” Vortex steps through the door while stating his last bit. Unfortunately for the medic, it’s not those three little words everyone likes to hear.

“Take care of yourself First Aid.”

----------

5.

Vortex is flying through the skies faster than any helicopter should be able to. Once he received an embedded message with coordinates from his close friend, Caliber, who always used his comm line to chat with him, it became a race against time. One he refused to lose to.

A friend is in serious trouble, and Vortex doesn’t know how bad the situation is until he arrives at a dark alloyed fortress beyond Kaon where he sees the aftermath of a fight in front of the entrance. He can see a body on the ground, beaten, and broken with energon splattered everywhere, almost like the mech had been dropped from a great height. When he gets closer he recognizes the red seeker instantly. His friend. His partner in crime.

“Caliber, can you hear me?” Vortex questions as he transforms and lands beside the mech. He kneels and reaches a servo out wanting to help, to hold his dear friend and let him know he would be alright. It’s what most mechs would do anyway. Vortex, however, pulls his servo away, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. Normally he shrugs things off but this…

This felt different.

Caliber attempts to speak but coughs up energon instead. His right arm is bent in ways it shouldn’t be, and his left leg is torn and sparking above his knee joint. The fall shatters nearly every inch of his frame along with his wings. He looks over to Vortex with dim flickering optics, knowing who is beside him, but he also feels so out of place that his close friend appears like a stranger.

“Caliber, it’s Vortex. I don’t know if you can hear me but…” The Combaticon stops himself as he can’t spit out the rest of the words. He doesn’t know what he’s doing here, to rescue a friend sure, except there is nothing he can do. The repairs required are beyond his skill level and the seeker is in no condition to be transported elsewhere for help. “Tell me who did this to you.”

The red mech could hear Vortex perfectly fine, the problem was making the connections required to respond to the words asked. Every time he opened his mouth more energon spilled out, trickling down both sides of his jaw. The easier option was to send another message to the copter with a name so he didn’t struggle to get words out.

Vortex watches Caliber’s frame bleed out as he receives the message, feeling a stinging sensation in his chest like he’s been shot. It hurts not being able to do anything, to help in any way, yet he does have something in mind to offer to his partner. An easy solution to a tragic problem. “I hate to do this, but I can…” Vortex lets out a vent, feeling like he’s choking on his words while trying to act like he can handle the situation. “I can end it for you. Quickly.”

Caliber wheezed as he stopped coughing, only to gasp for a vent but energon was flooding them. His weak optics watch the copter while moving his good arm to fumble around his hip compartment, and pulls out a silver prod with two pointed tines at the end capable of stabbing and delivering high voltage shocks. It was his favorite torture device with his designation engraved into it and now he was giving it to Vortex to remember him by. Something the seeker had planned on giving to his good friend anyway since he recalled Vortex mentioning that he needed more electrocuting tools.

“G… Glad I-” Caliber manages to sputter out, as painful as each word was to say, but his friend deserved to hear it. “Got… to… know… you.” He shuts his optics off and nods to the copter, showing he is ready.

Vortex takes the device, almost hesitantly, and looks it over before placing it in his subspace. He couldn’t refuse a dying friend gift even if it did feel like taking a trophy from him. A servo reaches back to grab a rotor and places the tip on Caliber’s chest before raising it above his helm. Ready to bring it down straight into the spark casing yet… he freezes. His arm struggles to move and for a moment he wants to drop the rotor, grab his friend, and pull him into an embrace.

Except Vortex doesn’t, he can’t, and brings the blade down onto Caliber’s spark without another second thought. For someone who normally likes to watch the lights go out in one’s optics, he can’t bear to look directly at his friend as he ends his life. The pain in his chassis was already difficult to cope with and he wanted it to go away. He hates it and says his final farewell through painful words that he’s glad the seeker couldn’t hear.

“The same goes for you, Caliber.”

----------

6.

Vortex approaches the Combaticon mansion exhausted and completely out of it. His servos are covered in dried-up blood and he’s dragging his rotor blade on the ground with an energon stain at the tip. He stops as he reaches the entrance, debating whether to go in or head somewhere else to clear his foggy helm.

In all honestly, he doesn’t know what he needs right now. It’s hard to think and the last hour has been puzzling. He’s uncertain how he managed to fly back with his processor in this state, but he made it here in one piece. Now it’s just a matter of walking through the entrance and finding his way to the wash bay without seeing any of his gestalt mates.

A small wish he hoped for once would be granted, but he meets a certain brown and purple shuttle the moment he steps inside.

“What happened to you this time?” Blast Off questions after coming to a stop when noticing the copter. It’s not uncommon for him to show up like he started multiple bar fights, but the silence and avoidance of optic contact slightly concerns Blast Off.

Vortex wants to answer, the words on the tip of his glossa, but instead shifts his helm toward the shuttle. His visor is dim and his frame feels stiff, something he knows his teammate has already noticed.

“Are you alright?” Blast Off asks while approaching his teammate, and is met with an unsure look that gives him a clear response. He doesn’t need the gestalt bond to tell him something is up when he’s known Vortex for centuries and can easily read his body language. The shuttle holds out a servo for Vortex. “Here. Let’s get you cleaned up for starters.”

The teal mech reaches out to grab the servo, although he doesn’t move when the shuttle turns to the hall where the wash racks are. Another look is given to him along with tugging the servo in the opposite direction, specifically toward Blast Off’s room.

Understanding what Vortex wanted, Blast Off brings him to his quarters while ensuring the empty halls, and straight into his private washbay to clean up the helicopter. He tries to get answers- hell any conversation out of him as he washes him, but it’s like the mech has completely shut himself down. What happened deeply troubled him, and Blast Off knew he needed help. He couldn’t leave his fellow gestalt mate like this for someone else to deal with and possibly make things worse.

After cleaning, Blast Off leads Vortex to his berth where he sits down, brings the smaller mech into his lap, and leans his back against the wall. He moves a servo to place a digit under Vortex’s jaw to lift his helm and watch the constellation ceiling. A map of the galaxy with shooting stars and colorful nebulas occasionally appears.

Although Vortex has seen it many times, he stares at the ceiling finding himself mesmerized by the view. Maybe it’s because Blast Off rarely holds him like this and it’s a nice feeling, or the stars are just that distracting, but it’s enough to bring some life back into the helicopter. He leans into the shuttle, huddling up while venting a small thank you to him.

Blast Off hums in return. He still wants answers but can wait until Vortex has settled in more.

Besides, he doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

----------

7.

“Are you going to go over there or what?”

Vortex doesn’t answer Brawl and continues observing a group of mechs across the bar, specifically a red and white helicopter frame. For the past ten minutes, he’s been overseeing them, how they move, talk, and their personality ever since they walked through the entrance.

What’s puzzling to Vortex is how the mech hasn’t spotted him and it’s either because the guy is terrible at checking his surroundings or his rotors couldn’t pick up the feeling of being watched. Meanwhile, his have been twitching to Brawl’s annoyed huffs from his vents.

“I’ll go myself and-”

Vortex grabs Brawl by the arm to keep him seated. “You will stay here and let me observe.” He claims while peering over to the green tank and releasing him after he receives a displeased look. His focus returns to the helicopter as he leans back in his seat. “One can learn a lot from surveying. Something you wouldn’t know due to your little patience.”

“You could get the same results by talking to them. What could you have possibly gathered by staring?” Brawl asks as he leans into the table and clutches his beverage.

The teal helicopter lets out a vent and smirks. A claw traces around the edge of his drink that hasn’t been consumed a lot, and he keeps his vision on the other copter while he answers Brawl. “For starters, the two mechs he is with are cops. One’s a rookie while the other is their teacher. They must be celebrating their graduation and the only reason the copter is there is to get him out more.”

The two mechs sharing a similar color scheme simply gave it away, and while those two are sitting down at a table with high grades, the helicopter is playing darts by himself beside them. He is not interested in drinking and instead keeps himself distracted while denying anyone else to join.

“He’s a hot head and likes using his servos more than his processor. Whatever job he currently has isn’t for him, and has to blow off steam elsewhere. The professional cop wants him to mingle to see if that’ll help but he’s very picky.” Vortex pauses to take a swig of his drink. He then peers over to Brawl blankly staring at him for who knows how long.

“How the frag did you get all that by googly optics all over him?” Brawl questions, completely puzzled by the flier’s reply.

“Why do you think Onslaught keeps me around? For my looks?” The teal mech chuckles before he gullps down the rest of his drink and sets the empty cup aside. “Anyways, watch me nail this mech with ease. I would say literally but he looks like the dominant type you have to fight to get him to submit.”

“That part you could have kept to yourself.”

Vortex grins while getting up from his seat, and salutes to Brawl before heading over to the mech distracted by his friends, making it perfect to surprise him.

“Tell you what Streetwise…” Blades comments while removing the bolts from the board on the wall. He then steps aside and points to the bullseye. “If anyone in this slag hole can hit this, I’ll consider talking to them.”

“Setting the bar real low as always.” Streetwise sighs while the rookie across from him lightly laughs.

“That’s the poi-” A knife flies past him hitting the center target, missing his digit by mere inches. Blades inspects the knife and then turns to see Vortex about ten feet away, leaning against the wall and waving with his claws.

“There you go Blades, a perfect match.” Streetwise snerks and motions to the Rookie to move elsewhere. “We’ll give you two some space.”

Blades waits until the other two are out of audial distance before speaking up. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to finally come over.”

“So you were pretending to not notice.” Vortex smirks as he closes the distance between them, nearly pinning the other against the wall while reaching to grab his knife from the board.

“What else are you hiding from me~?”

Chapter Text

======

Onslaught has his helm propped up by his servo while sitting at his desk and watching the news play on the data pad he’s holding. To most, he would seem relaxed or completely zoned in on the discussion on the screen, yet to Vortex, who was sitting across from him, he knew the commander was boiling inside.

The topic was about Starscream, Cybertron’s oh so greatest leader, who has done so much for the planet. When he’s still the backstabbing bastard he’s always been since before the war.

Onslaught’s visor flares when the seeker appears on the screen, giving yet another bull slag speech that people seem to eat up, and nearly crushes the data pad in his hold before angrily tossing it into the wall. He stands up and makes his way toward the exit of his office.

“Where are you going?” Vortex asks as he blows smoke and slants his helm toward his commander. He’s leaning against a tilted chair with his legs on the desk.

“Out.” Onslaught replies blatantly, making the helicopter vent.

“Let me rephrase. What are you planning?”

The truck stops and remains still for a moment before turning to slightly face the other. “Something we should have taken care of long ago. Take down Starscream.”

“Finally!” Vortex cheers as he bounces off the chair so erratically that it falls over. The vape he smoked is placed into his sub space while walking to his commander.

“Did you think I would never bring it up?” Onslaught questions when stepping out into the hall, watching as Vortex leans against the door frame.

“I knew you were putting together something.” Vortex’s rotors twitch while flashing his visor. “The longer it takes you, the more perfect it is. So… what is our first move? And do I get to wrap my claws around someone? Torture even?”

Onslaught vents, and Vortex grins, knowing there was a smile under that mask.

“We start with Starscream’s rat.”

======

Onslaught and [Redacted] stroll down the road to the main entrance and exit of the prison they recently escaped from. The other escapees took care of the guards who were lookouts on the walls or patrolling the ground, and any survivors were left to face their final moments with the two walking to their freedom.

Although Onslaught ensures that [Redacted] gets to handle them than he does, already knowing that she can deal the damage without any signs of remorse or regret.

Each execution brought her more to life and revealed a personality she never knew she had. Finally, she was free to be herself and release everything she had held in for so long with each pull of the trigger.

They approach the prison gates, destroyed by the other prisoners, and Onslaught turns his attention to his new companion. “I plan on paying a visit to my creators for sending me here; you should do the same with yours.”

[Redacted] looks up at Onslaught, both intrigued by the idea yet also concerned, suggesting she isn’t sure what to say or didn’t want to talk about it. At least not now anyway.

“Take the time to think. We must keep moving and lie low for a while, and I know a place we can go to.” Onslaught claims as he continues forward and passes the gate. He stops when noticing [Redacted] isn’t following and spins around to check.

She stares at the sky, mesmerized by the people fleeing the prison in their flying alt modes, and finds it so enrapturing she doesn’t notice Onslaught approaching her until he speaks up.

“You know, I think a flyer alt would suit you nicely.” Onslaught states while peering down at her, who glances back at him with hopeful optics.

It makes Onslaught smile.

“How about after you get your alt mode, and I teach you a couple of things, I’ll help you deal with your creators.”

Those bright optics turn dark as [Redcated] slants her helm downward and forms a wicked smile at the offer.

======

Earth was full of surprises. From the small inhabits the size of one’s digits to the planet’s weather system. More specifically, those strong winds that turn into a twister and become so destructive and deadly.

Vortex watches one in the distance. It’s a beautiful sight as he witnesses the tornado engulf everything around it and tear things out from the ground. His rotors spin, thinking how it could be better if it were closer to the human residence that was nearby, but it appears to be heading in the opposite direction.

It gives him an idea, most likely a stupid one, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinting toward the dangerous twister.

Using his thrusters, he lifts himself off the ground and throws himself into the windstorm. His rotors spin faster as he hovers in the center of it, watching carefully as objects and debris circle around him to avoid getting hit, but with how fragile this planet’s material is, he didn’t have to worry about it too much.

Once his rotors spin at full speed, Vortex can feel the change in the tornado’s pull and hovers in one direction, making the twister slowly follow. It makes him cackle in amusement.

Now comes the fun part of turning this storm around and making that small residential area its next target.

Yet he doesn’t get very far when another helicopter, red, white, and angry, slams him out of the tornado. 

======

Another solid punch strikes Vortex on the side of the face. His battle mask was knocked off a couple of hits ago, and his visor shattered within the first few, yet he still holds his grin high. He got captured by the Autobots and has been in their interrogation room for the past few hours.

He should add that it was a very boring one. There were two chairs and a table between them, in the typical police style he had seen on Cybertron many times before. He had expected the Autobot spaceship to have something more… interesting to be in, but instead, he had to endure blank walls and a two-way mirror for whoever was watching.

And he doubted anyone was.

“I ain’t gunna ask ya again.” The red, bulky mech, known as Ironhide, questions the Combaticon while grabbing their chassis.

Vortex continues to smile and watches the black and white enforcer at the door shake their helm at the scene, whom he recognizes as Prowl. So much for the good cop, bad cop routine; this felt like an impatient cop and a hot-headed mech who didn’t understand how to interrogate properly.

“Mm, come on. Hit me again.” Vortex purrs while fluttering his rotors. His face is covered in dents and energon, yet he didn’t seem bothered by it. “I’m so close.”

Ironhide raises his fist, but Prowl rushes in to grab his arm. “No. That’s enough, Ironhide. This clearly isn’t working.”

“C'mon, Prowl.” Ironhide grumbles. “Just a few more and he’ll start yappin’.”

“I think it would be best if you stepped out.” Prowl states as he releases Ironhide’s arm and points to the exit.

“Yes, Ironhide, take yourself and your horrible accent out of here.” Vortex giggles, resulting in the red mech lunging forward but getting stopped by the enforcer.

“Take a break and clear your helm!” Prowl orders when shoving Ironhide toward the door.

Ironhide releases a vent as he punches the code in to open the door. “Alright, but I’ll be waitin’ right outside if he pulls any funny business.” He steps out, and the door closes behind him, leaving the two alone in the room.

“So does this mean you’ll be the one to finish me off?”

Prowl glances over to give the Decepticon a glare and grabs a chair to bring around the table and sit closer to them. “Do you have to make things difficult for yourself? Or is this a game to you?”

Vortex laughs as he shifts in the chair he’s tied to. The restraints feel tight besides his pedes, so he’ll focus on getting those with his build-in knives there. “It was a game for the other mech. You, however? You look like you know what you’re doing, so maybe I’ll comply.”

The enforcer slants his helm. “I doubt you’ll be answering my questions with complete honesty.”

“Finish me off, and I’ll answer one question. How does that sound?” Vortex responds while spreading out his legs.

Prowl scoffs. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Well, then it appears we are at a standstill.” The Combaticon huffs and looks away from the other, appearing to be pouting.

“I can’t trust you to give actual answers after… releasing you of your pleasures.”

Vortex vents. “You don’t actually know that until you try.” He glances over to Prowl and leans forward, feeling the ropes around the pedes loosen up and break apart. “How about I suggest something else?”

The enforcer’s optics dim, as if agreeing to listen, but it’s all a trick. In seconds, the ropes snap off the Con’s pedes, and their legs swing up to wrap around and bring Prowl down. They both fall to the floor with Prowl’s neck squeezed between Vortex’s thighs as he attempts to pry a leg off with his servos. Static gasps are heard, feeling his vocal box nearly being crushed.

“Not how I imagined you between my legs, but this works just fine.” The Combaticon giggles as he keeps the pressure around the ‘Bot’s neck strong and uses his rotors to free his arms, yet still keeps them behind his back. “I won’t kill you, I simply need-”

The door gives a notification that someone is entering the room, and it’s no other than Ironhide crashing in concerned and still fuming. “What’s goin’ on?!” His optics brighten when spotting his Autobot companion is serious trouble, and snarls at enemy. “Let 'im go.”

Vortex grins and motions the other to come over with a helm nudge, to which they fall for and come rushing for the rescue. He quickly crushes Prowl’s neck as the red 'Bot reaches to grab, pull him up and slam him against the wall.

“Yer in fer it now.” Ironhide growls as he holds the Combaticon up with one servo while the other forms a fist.

The smirk gets wider on Vortex as he reveals his free arms with both servos holding a blade. “Am I now?” He smugly questions before plunging both knives into the mech’s audial sensors.

Ironhide releases the mech as he screams, but it’s short-lived as Vortex removes both blades and uses one to stab into his vocalizer box. Silencing him.

Vortex pulls the blade out and lightly shoves Ironhide out of his way while watching them stumble to the floor and grasp their throat. “Whatcha fussin’ about?” The copter asks as he mimics the Autobot’s tone. “Cyber-cat got yer glossa?” He laughs when twirling the blades around and steps toward the open door with a little dance to his step.

“Hope y’all have a mighty fine day, ya hear?” The Combaticon spins around to give the two Autobots a bow before taking his leave.

Now to find a way out of this place.