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Ever since the transformers came to reside on Earth, most cryptid sightings were assumed to be alien mechanisms. Nothing was different about this particular one.
First Aid had technically been assigned to this rural region to help humans, ferrying them to the nearest hospital much faster and more efficiently than a regular ambulance. He suspected that Hot Spot had sent him there as a bit of a break during a lull in the Decepticon-Autobot conflict.
So he hadn't expected to get a call from a farmer about spotting a large mechanical being in the woods beyond his property line, stalking around at night.
According to the farmer, it was unclear if the bot was injured. From what little he could see of them, they moved with a hunched posture, slinking through the trees while somehow managing to make very little noise.
First Aid had gotten the call as the sun was beginning to set. He arrived at the farm when it was almost to the horizon.
He switches on his headlights and transforms to root mode, walking along the path in between fields towards the woods. When he reaches the fence at the edge of the property he looks towards the woods and scans back and forth for life signals. Nothing cybertronian comes up.
So First Aid carefully steps over the fence and enters the woods.
His headlights attract clouds of flying bugs. Small animals skitter away from him in the undergrowth, and a few nocturnal birds are startled from trees as he passes by. His pedesteps crunch loudly, and he has to duck awkwardly to get around low branches.
First Aid's instinct is to start calling out, to let the mystery bot know he's here to help. But caution stops him. He might be dealing with a Decepticon, so it pays to be wary.
The shadows wavering at the edge of his headlights make him jump, whirling around only to find nothing there. First Aid shakes himself, smoothing his overactive defense protocols back down.
Nothing's there. It's just his overactive imagination. He performs another scan to reassure himself, spinning slowly in a circle.
A life signal pops up on his HUD, directly behind him. First Aid freezes.
He slowly raises his hands, showing his lack of weapons. "Hello, I'm a medic and I'm here to help—"
There's the snarl of a powerful engine turning over, then a massive mech is slamming into him.
They roll across the forest floor for a moment, then the mech is pinning him facedown, hands on his shoulders and dentae pricking the back of his neck.
First Aid goes very still. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not a threat, I'm just here to see if you're injured."
The mech doesn't respond except to dig his dentae in deeper. First Aid winces.
Despite the precarious situation, his medic coding notices something is off. The mech is running way too hot, even though his vent fans seem to be at their highest setting.
As slowly as possible, First Aid bends an arm back to press his fingertips to the mech's wrist plating, right where the armor thins at the joint. He takes the temperature data there and grimaces at the readout. It's a miracle the mech can still move, he must feel like his energon is boiling in his lines.
"You have a fever. I have treatment for that." First Aid fumbles for his subspace pocket, taking out a vial of emergency coolant. "Here, drink this, it should help a bit."
The dentae in his neck retract. Then his whole world spins as he's flipped over onto his back. His armor creaks as the mystery mech props his hands on his chest, straddling his waist.
First Aid's headlights illuminate the mystery mech for the first time and he feels like his spark skips a rotation.
That's Vortex. The infamously sparkless, sadistic combaticon interrogator.
He only gets a second to reel in shock before Vortex suddenly leans in close, face inches away from his own. He bares his sharpened dentae and honest-to-Primus growls.
First Aid blinks at him. "Uh?"
Vortex growls again, his rotors rattling with the force of it. First Aid flinches, throwing up his arms to cover his face. "Alright, alright, I get it! You win!"
For a long moment, Vortex stays sitting on top of First Aid. Then his weight disappears.
First Aid risks a glance past the shield of his arms. The heliformer is walking away, hunched as he stalks silently into the depths of the woods.
First Aid watches him, frozen. Then remembers the coolant still clutched in his hand. "Wait! You still need treatment!"
But Vortex has vanished. With a muttered curse, First Aid gets up and follows him.
Vortex can't think. He only has survival directives left, taking up all of his processing power. Right now it's the drive to run and hide. His internal temperature is too high and his vent fans are running overtime. His battle protocols keep trying to online, only to be knocked back down the priority queue by the need to hole up somewhere until his temperature stabilizes.
Tree branches whip against his shoulders and slap against his rotors, making him flinch and swipe at them with his claws. There's nowhere for him to hide, just a few shallow dips in between small hills and the flimsy trees all around him.
Something crunches behind him. Vortex spins around, engine growling and claws raised.
"Okay I get it! You don't like me! But I think I can tell what's wrong and I want to help." The little ambulance from before is right there. Vortex's memory banks spit out the name 'First Aid'.
First Aid has his hands held up, a tube of something blue in one of them. "You've been infected with a virus and your systems have locked down to survival mode in response. If I can just get you some coolant and see if you have any infected wounds then I can help. But obviously you don't understand any of this right now."
The little bot shifts his stance, extending one arm. Something pops out of his armor. "So I guess I'm just apologizing in advance for this. It's for your own good, I promise."
The thing in First Aid's arm shoots out and wraps around Vortex's leg. A grapple.
He roars in indignation, going to grab at the line. Then First Aid yanks on it with surprising strength and Vortex collapses onto his back. He quickly flips to his front and tries to get back up. But First Aid jumps onto his back and yanks his arms behind him, slapping stasis cuffs on his wrists.
A second later and he's tied Vortex's legs together with the grapple's line. Vortex snarls, bucking and writhing against the restraints.
"Just hold still and let me take care of you!" First Aid says, frustrated. He pins Vortex's shoulders down. "What was that thing you did? That submission hold bite thing?"
There's the soft sound of a mask transforming away. Then blunt dentae are pressing against the back of Vortex's neck.
Vortex freezes. His processor spins. It doesn't make sense. His instincts tell him to submit to the bot pinning him and biting him. But it's a small Autobot that's doing it to him.
The heat muddling his processor and the priority of his survival programming wins out. Vortex slowly relaxes, going completely limp under First Aid.
First Aid hums thoughtfully, the vibration going straight from his dentae to Vortex's plating.Vortex shivers.
Then First Aid lets go. "Good. Stay just like that while I give you this coolant."
First Aid slides off his back, feeling along the side of his abdominal plating for his auxiliary hatches. "There!"
He pops open one to reveal the coolant intake port. The vial slots perfectly into place, coolant dripping into Vortex's boiling lines. He relaxes further, the submission protocol digging in deeper.
"Now let's see about that wound." Clever fingers sweep up and down Vortex's plating, feeling into the gaps. He shudders all over, charge starting to build.
Then he jolts as First Aid touches the slash in his side. Vortex can't help but whine as First Aid touches the rusted edges of the deep wound, then dips his fingers in to feel the sliced energon lines which have long dried and crusted over.
"Oh you poor thing, no wonder you got a virus. All this rust must've gone straight to your processor." First Aid's hands draw away, only to return with the biting wash of a disinfectant.
Vortex squirms as the sting sets in, dripping into the deep cut and firing off all of the pain sensors. First Aid hushes him, stroking the undamaged plating on his side comfortingly.
Then First Aid sticks his hand into the wound and starts disconnecting damaged lines. Vortex hisses, trying to move away. First Aid plants his free hand on Vortex's hip and pins him back to the ground. "No you don't!"
Charge crawls up Vortex's spinal strut. He groans deeply.
"It's okay, I'm almost done." First Aid says. He takes new lines out of his subspace and starts connecting them.
The relief from the itching, burning pain starts to set in. Vortex's core temperature starts to drop. His processor makes another important connection: the bot who he's submitting to is helping him, protecting him. And he needs to treat him with the proper respect a Protector deserves.
His array covers snap open so quickly it leaves him dizzy. His spike pressurizes straight into the packed dirt below him and he can't help the twitch of his hips, grinding deliciously against it.
First Aid finishes connecting the new lines, tugging at them to test their security. Vortex nearly overloads on the spot.
"There! Now I can let you be on your…way." First Aid trails off.
Then he resets his vocalizer and unlocks the stasis cuffs on Vortex's wrists. When Vortex pushes himself up to his hands and knees, it's to see First Aid slowly backing away.
But Vortex won't let him get away so easily. He started this when he put him in that submission hold, so he has to follow through. The base instincts taking over his processor make it clear, he needs First Aid to spike him into a soft reboot now.
Vortex crawls on his knees to catch up with First Aid, snatching him by the hips and finally getting his fangs into one of those delicious thighs. First Aid yelps, his hands landing on Vortex's helm. But he doesn't try to push him away.
Vortex laps at the seam between First Aid's thigh and hip plating, his engine thrumming in a deep purr.
"You don't understand what you're doing. This is wrong and I should leave now." First Aid says.
Vortex props his helm against First Aid's hip and transforms his visor away so he can look up at him with wide, pleading optics. He even whines a little to show how much he's suffering without his rightful Protector fragging him into the ground.
First Aid still hesitates. So Vortex licks a wide stripe right up the center of his array covers.
"Ah!" Electricity zips across the gaps in First Aid's armor, optics flickering behind his visor.
Vortex purrs louder. His Protector wants hims just as badly. He sinks further down, legs spreading to show off his hard spike and dripping valve.
"You're going to regret this when you're yourself again." First Aid hedges.
Vortex flares his rotors and tilts his helm back, baring his throat. First Aid makes a very interesting sound in response.
"Fine, if you insist." He says, slightly strangled.
Then he pushes Vortex onto his back, brushing over the wound on his side. "I wish I could weld that closed, but that rust needs to be taken care of first…"
Vortex wraps his legs around First Aid's waist, grinding his valve against his still closed spike cover. First Aid spits static. "Wait, don't you want me to finger you first?"
Vortex snarls. First Aid finally pops his panels.
His spike is perfect, thick and ridged. It pressurizes straight into Vortex's valve, and it's everything he wanted. He squeezes his legs harder around First Aid's waist.
"Ack! Not so tight, I can't even move!" First Aid wrenches Vortex's legs apart with surprising strength and pins his knees to his chest. Vortex moans, spinal struts arching.
"Frag." First Aid mutters. Then he begins to pound into Vortex in earnest.
Vortex writhes against the forest floor. No matter how hard he pushes back into First Aid, the medic just pushes him back down, pinning him securely. It makes his circuits sing, his instincts soothed.
Then First Aid wraps one of those clever medic hands around his spike and strokes it, rolling his thumb over the nodes lining the underside. Electricity arcs across Vortex's armor as he overloads right into a soft reboot.
When he comes to, the blocks that had kept him to his base instincts have dissolved. His optics online to see a fragged-out First Aid lying on his chassis and he frantically loads up his most recent memory files.
Vortex sits up so fast that he jolts First Aid awake.
"Whuh?" First Aid says.
Vortex grabs him by the shoulders. "Never tell anyone what just happened. They wouldn't believe you anyway."
Then he lets him go, transforms, and flies away as fast as he can.
He only looks back once, saving the sight of a fragged-out and now bewildered First Aid to his long term memory storage.