Work Text:
A light knock at the door brought Rung away from the reports he was writing on Megatron’s psyche. He locked his datapad before answering the door, keeping everything confidential as it should be. A rather concerned Nautica was waiting for him on the other side.
“Good afternoon Nautica, can I help you with something?”
“Uh yeah, I mean, not me, but (Y/N),” Nautica replied uncertainly.
“Oh, is something wrong with our resident human?”
“I think so. (S)he was freaking out earlier, kept saying something about not being able to trust anyone. Then I offered to get some help and (s)he just kind of ran off when I wasn’t looking. I was hoping (s)he might have come to you for help, but clearly I was wrong.”
Rung considered the call to aid for a moment, thinking about all he knew about your schizophrenia; the other bots on the ship didn’t know about it yet, and nor would they unless you decided to tell them. Figuring that you were probably having a bad episode, Rung closed off his office, leaving it open in case you decided to hide in there later.
“Not to worry Nautica, I shall find (Y/N),” Rung stated, thinking of all the places you might go.
“Okay… Just message me when you do so I know (s)he’s okay.”
“Yes, of course.”
Without so much as a good bye, Rung set about finding you. From what he knew of your illness, you would go somewhere you wouldn’t be disturbed, which removed your hab-suite from the equation. You would choose somewhere familiar where you could ground yourself, perhaps somewhere dark and smaller than the other areas on the ship. It would have to be somewhere quiet that ran little risk of being discovered by a random passer-by.
Sure enough, Rung thought he might know where you were hiding. Between your room and his was a supply closet that nobody other than himself usually went into. It had plenty of spare datapads that made great files for his patients, as well as a few other office supplies. In fact, it was after the two of you had gotten locked in there once that Rung had fallen in love with you.
Once he arrived there, Rung knocked quietly, “(Y/N), are you in there, my spark?”
Rung heard a small whimper and let himself in the supply closet, finding you sat on the floor with your knees tucked into your chest and your hands pressed firmly over your ears. Everything from the tear-tracks down your face to the way you were sat told Rung everything he needed to know. You had fallen into a sensory overload and, until now, had nobody to help you.
Rung didn’t say anything, knowing that there was nothing he could say that would make you feel better for a while. Instead, he switched on his holo-form, sat down beside you, and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, resting his chin on top of your head.
You didn’t move. How could you when the world was too loud and the lights too bright? You had to deal with being scared, angry, sad, tired, anxious, guilty, and humiliated all at the same time. All the while, you wished your brain didn’t throw every emotion your way simultaneously. You had once told Rung that you hated yourself for being broken; he insisted that you weren’t broken, just different.
“Why do I have to be different?” You asked now, having trouble isolating the question.
Rung followed your train of thought with ease, “Because you are special, my darling. There are a million bots who would give anything to be like you. Unfortunately, you can only see the downside of being so unique right now.”
“The world is too much Rung. It isn’t fair.”
Ring lightly stroked your arm, “I know it isn’t, but it won’t always be like this you know. One day, you will wake up and you will find that the world isn’t too loud or bright, but that it is just right and you fit right into it where you are supposed to.”
You shook your head, “But they were talking about me… How can I fit into the world if everyone’s always talking about me behind my back?”
Although Rung knew this was just one of your paranoid episodes, he didn’t bother refuting your claim. For all he knew, the Cybertronians on the ship could have been talking about you, the only human aboard. Instead he answered, “They might have been saying positive things about you. Did you think about that possibility?”
As if Rung’s question had flicked a switch inside your brain, you began to feel soothed. You were by no means in the clear from your sensory overload, but by simply being with someone who considered the positives of your worst scenario, you were starting to feel a little better.
You leaned into Rung’s side, slowly wrapping your arms around his side, affirming that he was real and not a figment of your hyperactive imagination.
“I’m scared,” You admitted.
“Of what?” Rung asked, though he was fairly sure he knew the answer.
“Of the next time this happens… What if you aren’t here for me?”
“I will be. No matter where I am or what’s happening around us, if I know you need me, I will be there for you.”
“I- I don’t want to go back out there.”
“Then we will stay here, for as long as you would like. In here, you are safe.”
You nodded then let your head rest against Rung’s chest where you could hear the low buzz of his spark. Being held and comforted wasn’t much, but for now it was enough. Rung was your rock and your refuge; with him, you felt safe.