Archive of Our Own

The smell of burning metal was heavy in his nasal ridge. Sparks flew as the small tool in his servo cut away at the damaged bits of frame on the other mecha’s arm. How many patients had he seen today? He’d lost count.

Tarnish wasn’t a medic, though he did have some basic knowledge of the field. Most, or well honestly all of his medical knowledge had been learned in the moment when an injured or dying mecha was shoved onto him. If a real medic ever saw his work, much less a non-Decepticon medic, they’d scoff at him at the very least.

What he could do was barely considered decent, but it usually got said mecha up on their pedes and back onto the battlefield. None of the Decepticon commanders seemed to mind though; they were short on medics after all, and anything they could get to keep their soldiers going, even if only for a little while longer was all they cared about. 

It was honestly kind of sad so, despite this not being his field, Tarnish was going to try his best.

There was one mecha in particular he wanted to learn more for, however. One mecha he wanted to do better for , and that was Encore.

Primus above, how long had it been since he’d last seen that mech?

Had they been separated more than normal recently due to Encore fighting on the battlefield, or was it because Tarnish was so swamped with work that he was simply managing to miss the mech when he was around?

No, the latter wasn't likely true. He and Encore were close friends, even if they weren’t bonded as amica endura or anything. They would find whatever time they could to spend together. That being said, Encore was likely still just away in battle. Either that, or he was finding a mecha to busy himself with as he always did when he needed to blow off some steam. Either way, Encore would show up soon enough and, with it having been a while since their last encounter, Tarnish was sure that time was coming sooner than he thought.

“You done, doc?”

Tarnish set the torch down and sighed, his glasses retracting upwards as he no longer needed them.

“How many times do I tell you I’m not a doctor? I just sometimes deviate from framework in order to help out what few medics we do have.”

On this base there were only two other medics. You’d think that was a good number but when you had a few hundred warriors that didn’t seem to care much about their own health that number was next to nothing.

“Yeah…So doctor.”

Another sigh of frustration left him as he rubbed his servos. He wasn’t going to win this one.

“How is your arm feeling? Can you move it without any pain?”

The mech swung his arm about recklessly. For a moment, Tarnish thought to stop him, but what good would that have done? The mechs here all did this - some worse than others. They had absolutely no sense or care in regards to being careful so Tarnish decided to keep quiet lest his words fall on deaf audials. 

“It’s good enough to get me back in the field.” The mech smirked and stood up, making his way towards the door.

“W-wait!” Tarnish shouted, quickly standing up and reaching out towards the mech as if to stop him. He wouldn’t actually grab the mech, but he needed to do something to keep his patient here.

‘Good enough’ wasn't… Well, it wasn’t good enough . Besides that, it didn’t answer his question, and he knew that if the mech left now it wouldn’t be long before he returned. 

“Thanks doc!” 

The door slid shut loudly between them and Tarnish paused, sighing as he lowered his arm.

“I told you not to call me that.”

_______________

Yet another sigh left him as he returned to his seat, the lights flickering ever so softly as he turned around in his stool. Elbows resting against the table, he let his face fall into his servos, pressing into them as he propped himself up in a quick moment of rest. If that was what you could call it anyways.

The cycle had brought a number of mechs into his little workshop, each one more tiring than the last. None of them listened to him however and he knew that wasn't likely to change anytime soon. 

It was the end of the cycle, and he was tired. He wanted to rest, wanted to recharge until tomorrow morning and, without any sign of his friend, that feeling only grew. A part of him had hoped Encore would have come into his workshop needing something fixed just so he could see the mech, but the cycle didn't seem to have that in store for him today—just as it hadn’t in the cycles before. Though it saddened him, he was also glad about it; the last thing he wanted was for Encore to have to become injured just so they could see each other again. At least Encore would listen to him, unlike the others. Well, for the most part anyways. 

Tarnish opened his optics, helm still propped up by his servos and looked at the scattered mess of new parts that lay strewn across his desk. Yet another cycle had come and gone, and he still hadn't been able to sit down and work on his special project. Ultimately, that’s what cemented his decision.

Despite his strong desire to recharge, Tarnish decided against doing so tonight. 

Taking a deep in-vent, he sat up straight and fixed his glasses, so they were in the proper position in front of his optics to magnify the small parts and began to work. Before he became lost in his task, he set an alarm for six joors. This would give him enough time to make some decent progress on the helm while still giving him a few joors of recharge. He hoped that would be enough to get him through the following cycle. If not, he would see where he could tweak the time for the next night. Granted, that would all depend on how long the sun cycles work kept him.

The smell of heated metal hit his nasal ridge once again as he used a soldering iron to bind small pieces of metal together.

_______________

Tarnish woke, groaning softly as he sat up from his small berth. Checking his internal chronometer, he groaned again.

Six joors of working on the new helm was too much after the cycle he’d had. He was exhausted by the time he’d finished for the night and, when he’d tried to recharge, he couldn’t get comfortable. Morning had come far too soon and now he had to get back to work.

The purple mech stood up and raised his arms above his helm, stretching. He took a deep in-vent before relaxing and following with releasing the air he had just taken in. It was going to take a bit to shake the groggy feeling that had nestled its way into his processor, but he could do it.

Readying himself, Tarnish took to the door, unlocking and opening it for the cycle. Turning back towards the room, he took a seat at the desk and opened the drawer to pull out a cube of energon. It would be best to refuel now while he had the chance and he could catch up on some patient notes before anyone came in needing repairs—or so he hoped that’s how things would go. He only made it about halfway through the cube before the sound of the door sliding open hit his audials. Sighing, Tarnish placed the cube back in its original drawer; he would finish it later.

“Hey there, doc!” Tarnish sighed, his antenna dropping when he realized who had just walked in. The fact that the mech once again called him doc wasn’t helping though.

“You were just here yesterday. What happened?”

“Well, I had just made it back out to my post and barely even half a joor into things my arm locked up.” The mech raised his arm as high as he could but it was bent slightly at his elbow. Tarnish was sure that wasn’t a choice.

“Come sit down and let me take a look at it.” Waving the mech over, Tarnish took hold of the mech’s arm and hit the manual release for the medical port, then he pulled a cable from the console and plugged it into the mech, waiting for the diagnostic scan to run.

Connecting a mech to a stationary console for a diagnostic scan wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It worked in a pinch, but it was nothing compared to connecting to the systems of a medic.

Tarnish wasn't a medic as he’d tried to make known time and time again. He was a craftsmech who specialized in weapons, most specifically new armor pieces. He could even install the new framework on a mech.

Finding the error codes for damage taken and properly repairing it was another thing entirely. Medics had the training and the programming to be able to do that. To him, the codes were absolutely foreign, and he couldn’t piece them back together properly. All he could do was go off of what his patient told him they were feeling, watch for any differences in movement or functionality, and go from there.

It was always a gamble.

If he could just have the time, he needed to build a new piece of hardware for each patient that came in then maybe they wouldn’t be here the next cycle. They certainly wouldn’t be left with his half-done repairs. Even better, if the Decepticons would just find some more medics….

“Everything good doc?” 

The mech's voice broke him from his thoughts and he nodded. “Yeah, everything is alright.” Tarnish said, shaking himself from his thoughts. Grabbing a bottle of oil and transforming his digit into a soldering iron, he got to work on mending the mech's arm once more. 

_______________

The next few cycles passed in a blur, so much so that he hadn’t even fully realized an entire month had passed since he began working on the helm piece for Encore.

It had taken quite a bit of tweaking to get the amount of time that he could work on the helm right while still getting enough recharge in order to run his ‘medibay’ during the solar cycle. Truthfully though, he was barely making it by. His recharge was still lacking and, even worse off was his ability to refuel; he’d barely managed to pop open a cube before a patient walked into his ‘medibay’.

Things were slow right now. He could take just a little nap, right?

Folding his arms beneath him, Tarnish rested his helm next to the one he’d made for Encore and slumped against the desk. He vented, closing his optics as he slowly drifted off into recharge.

A small buzzing sound hit his audials a few joors later. No…it was more like a beeping. All of the equipment was turned off though unless….

Tarnish jolted as the sound of the door sliding open followed quickly after the beeping. His stool rolled out from underneath him as he tried to steady himself by placing a servo against the table. There was only one other mech who had the codes to his little hab.

“Well, that’s quite the sight to come in to.” A familiar voice said, laughing softly. Tarnish blushed as he fixed his askew glasses.

“I didn’t know you were back. How…How long have you been here?” He shuffled himself in front of the helm, earning himself a confused look from the other mech. All Encore could do was tilt his large, bulky screen to the side, but Tarnish knew what the expression was behind it.

“I just got back actually. The entire team returned for repairs. We’re supposed to deploy again as soon as we’re all done.”

“Oh, I see.” Tarnish frowned. That meant most of that work was likely going to be shoved onto him.

“I called dibs on you as my medic first. Said the others couldn't have you until I was done with you and you know none of them are going to argue. The other medics are just going to have to deal with it too.”

“Encore,” Tarnish laughed tiredly. The other mech moved closer to him, causing Tarnish to flare out his plating to try to help hide the helm piece behind him. “You can't shove that many mechs onto those two.”

“I can and I did. Besides, if I hadn’t then there would be a line out your door and, from the looks of it, you need some rest. What have you been doing? Starving yourself?” Tarnish could only let out a nervous laugh.

“Tarnish,” Encore chided. Tarnish’s antenna drooped.

“I didn’t mean to, I just-....”

“You just what exactly?” Encore was definitely trying to peek behind him now. At first Tarnish tried to move back and forth to meet the mech, but eventually he sighed in the end and gave up. Slowly moving to the side, Tarnish repositioned his servo at the table to the top of the new helm piece.

“I’ve been busy taking care of mechs during the day and, well, it’s not easy. I’m not a medic.” Encore walked closer, dipping his helm as he neared the table. A clawed digit extended, poking the helm piece just beneath where Tarnish’s servo rested and at that, the purple mech turned it around. “My talents lie in framework. In creating new pieces for mecha and replacing the old and worn-down parts with what I’ve made. I know you know that but-”

“Tarnish…” There was a small waiver in Encore’s voice as the mech’s screen stared blankly at the new helm.

“I found time during the night cycles to work on this. It’s not… it’s not perfect but I did my best. I’ve been planning this project for a while and while you were gone this time, I finally got the pieces to put it all together. I wanted to make sure it was done by the time you came back, and I just barely finished it before… well, before I fell into recharge.” He was rambling now and the blush on his cheeks darkened and as Encore stayed there unmoving, looking at the helm. Tarnish felt his anxiety bubble up.

The helm piece was sleeker than the one currently on Encore, and it matched his frame much better both in size and in color. The right side sported a singular, pointed antenna and the back was split into sections - moveable sections. The middle, where an optic would be when powered on, was dark.

“I know it’s not a full helm piece, but this would make it so you could emote a bit better. The screen for the optic can change to match your mood too.” As he spoke, he took the helm piece between both of his servos and turned it fully, pointing out each of the little things it could do as Encore simply watched him. “I know it’s not exactly like it but...but, well, it’ll almost be like having your old helm back. I… I hope you like it.”

Tarnish anxiously watched Encore as the mech took hold of the helm piece, his clawed digits brushing against Tarnish’s own and causing the purple mech swallowed.

“Can we install it now ?” The way Encore asked, his voice bright and hopeful, went straight to Tarnish’s spark.

“Yeah,” Tarnish said, smiling softly. “We absolutely can.”

_______________

Installing a new helm piece was quite a bit different than a simple outer plating piece. Slag, it was even more different than replacing a full limb, and he had been filled with anxiety the entire time he was doing it. 

If it had been for any other mech, Tarnish would have likely turned them away no matter the other medics’ workloads simply because of the risk. While he still wasn’t really qualified for this, he would do it without question for Encore.

Encore had all but immediately agreed to being put into a medically induced stasis by Tarnish in order for the helm pieces to be swapped out, reassuring Tarnish just how much he trusted the purple mech. Although Encore had to convince him of his trust often, whenever it finally sank in, it made Tarnish smile. Encore had trusted him and believed in him when no other mech did, which was why Tarnish wanted to try so hard for the mech. Well, one of the many reasons anyways.

Carefully, Tarnish worked to disconnect the wire pieces holding Encore’s current helm to his frame. This was the easiest part, yet with each disconnected wire his anxiety swelled within him. With the last cord disconnected, Tarnish let out a rough vent and moved to set the old hem on the table to switch it out for the new one he had spent so long making. With each new connection made, his digits trembled. A few times he had to take a break and simply vent, telling himself he was doing just fine.

He was tired, exhausted even, and he probably should have recharged a bit more before doing this, but seeing just how excited Encore had been when asking if they could install the new helm piece? How could he say no? Besides, he had been far more tired during repairs beforehand so he could absolutely handle this, he just had to tell himself he was doing fine and that Encore trusted him. Knowing that—knowing that Encore was counting on him—was what got him through.

Making the last connection and gently moving the helm piece, Tarnish made sure the cables were secure and that it was sitting properly in place on Encore’s neck. Then, he glanced at the computer screen off to his side and read through the small amount of diagnostic data he could get from it, testing the helm’s lights and the movement of the back part of the helm manually. When he was finally satisfied, Tarnish initiated Encore’s wake up sequence and waited.

It was an anxiously, painful wait and, when he saw Encore stir, his spark flipped.

“E-Encore?” Tarnish reached out, digits lightly brushing against the mech's arm. Encore groaned, turning his new helm towards Tarnish. As he did so, Tarnish noticed the small fluttering movement at the end of Encore’s helm.

“Slag.” The white mech groaned again as he began to sit up. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in stasis like this.”

“You’re okay though, right?” Worry seeped into Tarnish’s field as his hold on Encore’s arm became heavier. “How are you feeling? I didn’t… I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Encore shifted slightly, moving his frame little by little as he rolled his new helm from side to side. It was moving perfectly, even the antenna and the flexible part of the back of his helm wiggled! The only thing that hadn't done anything was the screen where the white mech’s optic should be.

“No.” Encore laughed softly, turning his helm towards Tarnish. His field was light, and his helm wiggled again. “You didn’t hurt me, Tarnish so stop worrying so much.” He couldn’t help but worry though.

Swallowing Tarnish moved his servo from Encore’s arm and instead cupped the side of the mech’s helm. His digits pressed against the metal, turning Encore’s helm ever so slightly so he could look at things. His optics moved from Encore to the diagnostic readouts on the screen and back. “Then how are things feeling? Everything looks okay, but your optic isn't turning on. Maybe… Maybe I botched something during the installation.” Frowning he began to pull his servo away, but when he felt Encore lean into his touch, he froze.

“Tarnish, you’re worrying too much again.” The purple mech’s cheeks heated, but the frown didn’t leave his face. Encore must have known because his servo was on Tarnish’s leg in the next moment, causing his blush to deepen.

“Give me a klick… Just let me….” He could tell Encore was fiddling with his internal settings by the way the mech’s helm tilted gently from side to side. Tarnish had already come to enjoy watching the way the mech’s helm flittered up and down while he was in thought and, as a bright green light showed up on the screen of the mech's helm, the back of his helm wiggled happily. “There we go! Is it working now Tarnish?”

Tarnish shuttered his optics in relief.

“Tarnish?”

“Huh? O-oh! Yeah, it’s working now.” Tarnish vented and tried to calm his systems. Between being touched and the bright green of Encore’s optic, he had lost himself.

“What color is it, Tarnish?”

“It’s green. Like it used to be.”

All movement from Encore stopped and the warm feeling that had filled the purple mech suddenly left. “Is...is something wrong?” Tarnish asked, antenna twitching as his spark started to drop. Had he done something that Encore didn’t like? Had he-

Strong arms wrapped around him suddenly, tightening and pulling him close. Tarnish shouted in surprise, the sound becoming muffled as his face was pressed against the white mech’s chassis.

“Thank you.” Encore said softly, pressing their helms together as he nuzzled against Tarnish. The purple mech’s blush darkened and his servos twitched against Encore’s frame. “Thank you so much, Tarnish. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for this.”

“Just…” Tarnish vented roughly, relaxing in his friend’s hold, “Just stay safe out there and visit me when you can. That’s all I can ask for.” His arms finally came up and wrapped around Encore’s back as he returned the hug.

“I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”