Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rung sighed, it was his 30 minute break before his next round of patients started and he was dragged out of his office by Rodimus to “mingle” with other bots on the ship in Swerves.

He knew there was no point in going, he knew within the first ten minutes Rodimus would forget his name and presence to wander off with Magnus or Megatron. He held his head as he waited for Rodmius to wander off, he really needed to prepare for his next set of patients.

He stared off into the distance, tuning out the sound of mechs drinking and talking. He sat waiting, Rodimus was talking about something, but he didn’t know what.

His vision had black spots in them. Was he falling into recharge? No, he couldn’t, he had patients to care for, why is Rodimus taking so long to forget him? It had been… he didn’t know how long it had been. Had it been over 10 minutes? Rung didn’t know, his audials were off, his vision darkening, and if he focused enough, he could see a bright light in his face. He carefully reached out, and tried to speak.

He couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t see anything… he felt hungry. When was the last time he ate? Last cycle? Last orn? He didn’t know, he didn’t know and now he was scared.

His processor felt jumbled, his optics failed him, and now he felt like he was floating. To where? He didn’t know, but it felt safe and warm. He felt words spewing out of his mouth, he did not know what he was saying, he just knew it was happening. Then, he felt pain.

Rung was in pain. Why was he in pain?! What did he do? Who was doing it? Was it him? Why was this happening?! Why couldn’t Rodimus leave him to his office, where he was safe with his models and datapads? Why did he have to go to Swerves where almost every mech there was his patient? Why… What was that noise?

A scream. Someone was screaming, but why? Were they injured? Was someone having a breakdown? He needed to help. Why wasn’t his body responding to him? Why couldn’t he move his legs?

“HOLD……down… Calm…Rung? Rung?....Can-hear…. its…..Ratch…” Someone was speaking. It was soothing. He stopped trying to move his body, the screaming had stopped too. That was nice. It was silent except for the occasional sound of machinery. Oh! He knew where he was now, he was in medbay! Rung was in medbay with what must be Ratchet.

Ratchet was the one talking, he was sure of it. But, that doesn't explain what he was doing there. Maybe someone hit him, or something knocked him out. Rung felt someone hold his servo. Was it Ratchet?

“Rung?... Can you hear me now?... Rung?” It was Ratchet! He could hear again, but he still couldn’t see. He tried to talk back but all he heard was static. Did his voice box break? How did it break? He didn’t remember trying to use it at any point in his struggle.

Unless… he was the one screaming. But he couldn’t have been. He would remember screaming that hard. Rung layed on the berth in the medbay confused. He wasn’t sure where Ratchet was now, though he could hear steps.

He layed silently until servos came back to touch his arm. He felt a sharp pain. Was Ratchet injecting him with something? Was the accident that bad? He stilled, he felt tired. He hadn’t rechared in a while.

He was just so busy day in and out that he didn’t have time. He felt his body relax, and slowly shut down. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in millenia. Rung felt a servo in his hand again, he squeezed it to the best of his abilities as he shut down for recharge.

Chapter Text

Rung shot up from the berth gasping. Where was he again? Oh… medbay. Memories came rushing back to him in an instant.

Rodimus taking him to Swerves’ on his break, and himself blacking out at some point. He looked around, searching for Ratchet.

He attempted to get up from the berth, only for his legs to fall out under him, sending him to the floor. As he fell, he felt a pinch in his arm. Rung looked down only to see energon coming from the needle.

Why was he being fed through his lines? How long was he out for? He shakily stood up from his place on the floor, and began his trek to find Ratchet, or any other mech, who could explain to him what happened.

“Hello? Ratchet? Red Alert? Is anyone here?” Rung asked aloud, though there came no response. He walked to the door leaving the medbay. Should he go back to his office?

“Ap! Ap! Ap! Where do you think you’re going? Get back on that berth!” Rung jumped in his spot near the door, slowly turning to face Ratchet.

“But-But-” He tried to make words come from his mouth, but his vocalizer struggled. It was just fine before, why was it cutting out now?

“ No buts! Do you know how much trouble I’ve been through just to get you into recharge? It took two tranquilizers and three mechs to strap you to the birth!” Ratchet grabbed Rung by the arm, pushing him to sit back on the berth.

Rung sat shocked, “I-I-I don’t understand… What happened? The last thing I remember was going to Swerves’ with Rodi-”

“What happened? WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT HAPPENED WAS YOU NEGLECTING TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF! You were malnourished, Rung, malnourished and in need of recharge. Did you know that? Did you even think to check your fuel level? How long have you been neglecting to fuel and recharge?” Ratchet sighed, looking at Rung with disappointment.

“O-Oh dear, I’m truly sorry, I’ve just been extremely busy juggling appointments and-and I just don’t have enough time to fuel o-or recharge. I t-try to fit in some recharge through breaks, b-but then Rodimus came in and took me to Swerves, I-I’m extremely sorry Ratchet…” Rung looked down at his servos clasped together.

He didn’t think such a thing like this could happen. Rung knew he was recharge-deprived, but he always made sure his fuel levels were enough to get through the day .

Ratchet sighed, “ Rung, look at me, I know you didn’t mean to but this is ridiculous. From now on you are to take at least a joor break every day.”

Rung looked at Rachet with wide optics, “ But what about my patients? What if they need me when I'm not awake? O-or when i’m not in my office, how will they know where I am?”

“Rung, this will be a time for you to rest and relax, if it’s an emergency, we’ll com you, okay?”

Rung stared Ratchet in the optic, “I-I, okay, if you’re sure about this Ratchet, I trust your judgment.”

Ratchet took Rungs’ servo to pull him up, and guided him to the door, “Good, now you’re off the rest of the week, so get out of my medbay and get some rest! Doctors’ orders!”

“Alright Ratchet, I will. Thank you very much for your help.” Rung waved goodbye, and made his way to his habsuite.

Chapter Text

Rung walked the halls of the Lost Light, slowly making his way to his habsuite. He felt dazed, what was he going to do to fill the time? He had no patient waiting for him in his office, he was fully recharged, and he didn’t need to refuel.

Should he build a ship model? It's been a long time since he had enough free time to complete a model. It was the simplest pleasure of thinking to build a model to bring up his mood, the only thing that could possibly ruin it was the chance to run into another mech.

After the ‘incident’, as Rung dubbed it, he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He wanted to be alone, to not have to worry about how the others saw him, their therapist, under-fueled and dechared. As he approached his habsuite, he saw a mech at the end of the hallway. It was Rodimus.

Rodimus ran over waving to him, and threw his arm around Rungs’ shoulder, “Hey! Rung! Buddy old pal, how are you doing? You gave me a scare when you just sorta passed out. You know, freaked out all the mechs in the bar! I mean, what even happened? You were screamin when I tried to wake you, had to com Ratchet down to carry you to medbay!” Rung stared at Rodimus, mood already dropping.

Rung paused, how was he supposed to explain not taking care of himself? If Rodimus knew he wasn’t, would he never have a patient again? Would he become one? No, he couldn’t be one, he was the only therapist on the ship and the chances of getting another were slim.

Rung couldn’t lie to Rodimus, but he could… twist the truth a little, for the sake of his patients. “Oh my, well, Rodimus, I just had some… issues with something that Ratchet fixed, so you don’t need to worry about me anymore, I’m all better now.” Rung smiled slightly at Rodimus.

Rodimus didn’t look too pleased with his answer, but nodded along anyway. “Okay, well, if you need anything, you know where to find me!” Rodimus shouted before running down the hall, towards the medbay.

‘Oh dear, he really wasn’t pleased with my answer,’ Rung thought, watching Rodmius skittering to a stop at the medbay doors before going inside.

Rung shrugged to himself, he knew Ratchet wouldn’t tell Rodimus anything, even if he is the captain. Doctor-patient confidentiality comes in handy sometimes.

Rung turned away from where he was watching Rodimus, and continued the walk the short distance between him and his habsuite. He typed in the code to the keypad and walked inside.

It was just the way he left it, clean and tidy, except for the berth which had its blanket tossed over as if someone had just gotten up. He made his way to his desk that held un-painted models yet to be completed.

Rung optics shined. It had been too long since he could work on his side hobby. Model building required the time that he never had.

It was shunned into the back of his mind along with recharging and fueling. But now, he could finish the unpainted ones along with one he’d been saving for a time like this. Where he had no patients, no paperwork, and almost no worries.

He smiled to himself, it had been awhile since he was able to do this. Maybe, if he felt like it, he’d go back to Swerves’ to paint one of the models, like he used to do.

Chapter Text

Rung sighed, and looked proudly at the finished painted models. His hands were almost covered in paint, there were small specks on his thighs, and there might be some on his face. Rung put away his brushes, leaving the models on his desk to dry. He had painted all but one ship model.

Rung thought to go to Swerves’ to finish it, no one would notice him, he could fuel, and, maybe, see if Ten was around.

Ten, to Rung, was a friend. Ten was someone who never forgot him, and though he couldn’t say anything but his own name, Rung understood the messages Ten tried to bring across.

Rung gathered his materials and model into his subspace before heading out of his habsuite. Rung walked, passing mechs getting off shift. For a second, he swore some of the mechs were looking at him. No, it must have been his imagination.

As he made his way to the entrance of Swerves’ bar, he paused. If he had no patients waiting for him the next day, then maybe he could indulge in some engex? He hadn’t drank in some time now, too busy to deal with the effects of a hangover of any kind.

With a smile, Rung opened the door to the bar, making his way to his regular booth. He passed many mechs, he could feel optics on his back. Rung nervously sped up, hoping to make it to his booth without someone talking to him.

As he sat, he pulled out his materials and model from his subspace, and began organizing them into piles. He had brushes of multiple sizes in one, paint in another, and a magnifying glass that was supposed to go on his glasses.

He looked over at Swerve, seeing if he was free or not to take his order, and when he was, Rung made his way over to the main bar.

Rung sat at a stool, waiting for Swerve to look up from cleaning the bar. It looked as if someone had spilled their engex and left the mess for Swerve to clean.

Patiently, Rung waited, as he did, he looked around the bar. It was busy for the evening, mechs drinking and chattering all over. Though, as he looked, he saw a few mechs with their optics on him, whispering to one another.

“Hey Rung! Doin’ okay? Saw you yesterday, you really spooked me and the others out. I mean, Ratchet had to carry you out of here while you were screaming. Glad to see you up and about, though, gave me quite a scare.” Swerve said suddenly, it seems he was done cleaning the mess.

Rung turned his attention away from the mechs and to Swerve, “Yes, well, I had an issue of some sort and Ratchet fixed it, no worries.” Rung gave a small frown as he talked, it seemed everyone hadn’t forgotten the ‘incident’ yet.

As a matter of fact, everyone he had come across said his name the first time right, not having to second guess themselves, or say the wrong version of it. Strange.

Swerve nodded, “Alright, you just make sure you go to Ratchet every once in a while, yeah? Don’t want THAT to happen again,” Swerve turned around and picked up an empty cube, “So, Rung, what can I get ya? Your regular energon?”

Rung looked at the menu, he did not want to get wasted like the other mechs in the bar, but he did want to get somewhat tipsy. “I’ll have a low-grade engex, please.” Rung said, picking at the paint on his servos.

Oh! Maybe that's why mechs were looking at him so weirdly. He had paint all over him from painting his models!

“Engex? Really? You, Rung, the Rung who always drinks anything but engex, wants an engex?” Swerves’ face turned from cursious to flabbergasted. “Huh! Never thought I'd see a day where you’d get an engex… So what's with the paint?” Swerve looked at Rung, the mech’s servos had dots and smudges of paint covering them.

“Oh, well, I’m off the rest of the week, so I thought I would catch up in finishing some of my models. I’m painting one in my booth, if you don’t mind.” Rung continued to pick the paint off his hand.

His thighs had droplets of paint on them, his legs were mostly untouched except for a stray speckle, his arms only affected by the paint on his servos, and his chest had a few paint smudges.

Swerve observed him, handed him his cube of low-grade engex, and leaned forward on the counter. “You know, you could bring it over here to the counter, and we could chat a little. It might look busy today but I’ve got Ten helping me serve the drinks, leaving me plenty of time to talk.” Rung’s eyes lit up at the mention of Ten.

Rung took a sip of his drink, “Ten’s here today?” He glanced around the bar looking for the large bot. He couldn’t see him, only other mechs.

He looked around once more, exchanging stares with others by accident. Rung turned back around, and nursed his drink.

“Don’t give your hopes up, he’ll be back over here soon, then you can talk with him.” Rung looked at Swerve and smiled. He threw back his drink, and his owed amount of credits, preparing to get up and grab his supplies from his booth.

Swerve pushed back the credits towards Rung, “Woah! Hold your horses rung! This is on the house, no need to pay. You’ve been through a lot lately, you deserve this.”

Rung stared at Swerve and the credits before pushing them back. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly rob you of your engex. Please, take the credits.” Rung began to turn away again, only for Swerve to continue insisting it was on the house.

Swerve pushed back the credits again, “Come on Rung, just take your credits back, no need to pay.” Rung stared at Swerve, jumped Swerve's counter, grabbed an empty cube, and put his credits inside.

The paint covered mech jumped back to the other side, “Well, if it’s on the house, then I must tip you for your hospitality Swerve.” Rung walked to his booth, leaving Swerve to contemplate what the frag just happened.

Chapter Text

Rung twisted and turned around mechs and tables until hit his booth. He carefully scooped up his paints and brushes, popping them inside one of his many hidden compartments.

Rung grabbed his model and slowly made his way back to swerve, careful not to damage it when passing other mechs.

Rung sat back down at the stool he was originally sitting on, and began re-organizing all his materials. As he did so, he noticed the cube he had put his payment into, now wore a sticker labeled “TIPs”.

He smirked, now he could actually pay Swerve every time he got a drink. It was common knowledge that no bot ever actually paid for their drinks on the Lost Light. If they did, Swerve would be the richest bot on the ship.

Rung settled down and began squeezing paint onto his palette, calling Swerve over while doing so. “Like my new Tip jar? Labeled it and everything" Swerve joked, "Looks out of place though, might have to get a better one soon.”

Rungs’ lips quirked upward, forming into a small smile, “That’s nice Swerve, now I will always be able to tip you for your service… Speaking of service, may I have another low-grade engex?” Swerve nodded and grabbed a fresh cube to pour it in.

While Swerve was making his drink, Rung waited for him to turn away before putting more credits into the “Tip Jar”. Rung turned his attention back to his model, and fetched his magnify glass attachment from his subspace.

As Swerve set his drink down, Rung took off his glasses and attempted to put the attachment on. “Holy Primus… Rung! What the frag!” Rung jumped in his seat.

Rung looked at Swerve in his blurry vision, “Yes? What’s wrong Swerve?” What looked like Swerves’ hand waved about, as if there was an electroweb in his face.

“What's wrong! Rung you wear glasses?! Those things on your eyes, weren’t your eyes! Primus, how could I not have known, It seems so obvious now!” Swerve was practically shouting in his audial, and as he quieted, Rung noticed how silent it was in the bar now.

Rung turned away from Swerve, squinting hard at the rest of the bar. He could see outlines of mechs still there, but why were they so quiet? “Swerve? Why is it so quiet? Did I miss something?” Rung questioned, facing Swerve once again, and holding his servo to his mouth.

Swerve stared at Rung. Though Rung could not see him, Swerve could see Rung. His eyes were a majestic blue. Bright like a spark. The paint on his face was glowing from his optics. Swerve could only stare. The bots around him had gotten a taste of his optics as well.

Rung looked in confusion. Swerve was looking at him weirdly along with every other mech in the bar. He didn’t like the attention brought upon him.

He put back on his glasses, and quickly began packing all his materials away. He put his model in his main subspace, grabbed his cube and paint pallet, and sped walked to the door.

He opened the door to the bar only for another mech to bump into him. His pallet and engex splattered all over his front. He was a mess, and everyone had seen.

He pushed past the mech in his embarrassment, and fled to the washracks.

Chapter Text

Rung harshly scrubbed his platting, the hot solvent hitting his frame. The paint swirling down the drain as he attempted to get it off.

He didn’t understand why they were looking at him. He felt angry at Swerve for making such a big deal about his glasses, but he knew he didn’t mean too.

Almost no bot had ever seen his optics, well… only Rachet for vision tests, but that was it.

He stared down at himself, the paint almost all off. He continued to scrub, frustration clouding his mind.

He should have never gone to Swerves. He should have stayed in his habsuite, where it was safe from prying eyes.

Rungs’ optics teared up, the fluid mixing with the solvent. Why was he feeling so emotional? He scrubbed harder on his legs, leaving little scratches in his original paint. ‘Probably the engex’ he thought.

As he finished cleaning, he heard thumping. Loud thumps echoed closer to the washrack entrance. Rung looked at the door as it swished open, it was Megatron.

Megatron made his way over to Rung, looking apologetically at him. “Rung, how are you this fine evening?” Rung turned away from him, continuing washing away the last bits of paint.

“I'm doing just fine,” Rung bit out, and took a breath. In a calmer voice he said, “How about you Megatron?”

Megatron's optics moved to the floor, “I am doing well, thank you. But I'm not here to talk, I wanted to apologize.”

Rung paused his washing, and stared confused, “Apologize for what? You haven't done anything that I know of.”

Megatron looked Rung in the optics once more, “I wanted to apologize for bumping into you, you were in a rush to leave and I could not get a word in by the time you left.”

Rung nodded in understanding, “It is quite alright Megatron, I just… wanted to head back to my habsuite for some rest.”

Rung felt a pang of guilt for lying, but how was he supposed to explain the feeling of unease he felt with optics watching him. The attention sprung upon him with no warning?

He didn't know and it was better that way. Megatron smiled, thanked him for accepting his apology, and bid him a good rest cycle. Rung watched as Megatron left, his footsteps sound fading into an echo.

Rung finished washing himself off before turning off the solvent. He quickly dried off with a towel, and exited the washracks with a clearer mind.

He went back to his habsuite without incident, and opened the door. He emptied his paints, brushes, and model onto his desk. He felt he was missing something, but it could wait for tomorrow.

Rung was wiped out with what had transpired. He made his way to his berth, covered himself with his blanket, and fell into a deep recharge.

Chapter Text

Rung awoke with a yawn, and a small headache. He layed in the berth, snuggling into the covers. Rung wondered what he should do today. He had to finish painting his last model, but after that? Nothing.

He could visit Ten. Rung never got to see him last cycle, he only saw the others staring into his optics, the back of his head, his whole body.

The thought gave him shivers. Rung contemplated for a moment before slowly rising from berth, lifting his arms above his head to pop his old joints.

Rung stood, made his berth, and made his way to his desk. He sat, pulled open a drawer, and grabbed a cube. He felt at peace. No one to bother him and his morning fuel.

He hadn’t had a calm breakfast in ages, always drinking a small portion while filing paperwork, or fueling on the way to his office. He never had the time to sit back and enjoy an entire cube to himself.

Rung looked down at his cube, staring at his blueish reflection, He made faces at the cube and giggled. He finished the cube, and popped the empty cube into a different drawer. It seemed he had to restock on his supply soon. He smiled, and hopped up from his chair

He felt motivated to go out and do something. Anything. Even if he still felt bad the other night, he’s sure it will blow over soon. Rung walked through his door, leading to the dimly lit halls of the Lost Light. He made his way towards Tens’ habsuite.

Maybe they could work together to make figures again, or Ten making new figures and Rung making a ship for them. Rungs’ figures always turned out a bit strange looking, but if he got to bond with Ten over it, then it didn’t matter how they looked.

Though Tens' always turned out incredible looking, even in miniature scale, the large mech could add every detail there is to a bot. It was an amazing talent Ten had.

Rung passed by Ultra Magnus, the blue mech nodding to him as a greeting before continuing looking down at his datapad. Rung nodded back, Ultra Magnus almost never went to the bar, and must have not been informed of what occurred last cycle.

Rung smiled as he continued walking, that meant gossip around the ship wasn’t spreading as much as he thought it did anymore, and hopefully it will stay that way.

He knew most of the bots on the ship liked to gossip, and now they were quiet. Unless Ultra Magnus just didn’t care, as he did with most gossip, unless it was a violation to the Lost Lights’ rules.

Rung stopped at Tens’ door, and knocked. He hoped Ten was here, and now that he thought about it, he probably should have commed him. The doors swished open, Ten looming over Rung, “Ten! Ten, Ten Ten,” Ten stepped aside to grant Rung entry.

Rung stepped inside Tens’ habsuite, it was cleaner than the last time he came over, Ten must have cleaned. Ten closed the door behind him and guided Rung to his berth.

It was larger than most berths, suitable for Ten to have extra room for when he recharged, while making Rung look small when he sat upon it.

Ten sat down by Rung, “Ten, Ten Teeeeeeenn? Ten Ten Ten, Ten” Rung listened carefully to Ten. He took a second to process the words before responding.

“I am doing quite alright Ten, I had a lovely morning fuel and I even went out yesterday, though that did not go the way I was expecting my evening to play out.” Rung said, being fully honest with Ten.

He did not twist the truth like he did with the others. He would not betray Tens’ trust by lying, he was too good of a friend to him.

“Ten? Ten Ten Ten? Ten Ten Ten, Ten Ten Ten.” Rung smiled at Ten, “Well, I went to Swerves’, all by myself may I add, and got a little tipsy. Then, I took my glasses off and everyone was staring! It was creepy, and unnerving, so I packed my stuff I brought with me and left. But when I left, Megatron apparently ran into me, and I was carrying a pallet of paint and a cube, so it went all over me! I was a mess! I was embarrassed and I left for the washracks, where Megatron apologized to me.” Rung took a big in-vent and after his ramble, looked up to Ten.

“Do you think I overreacted? I mean I feel as if I did.” Ten looked Rung over, the poor mech was oblivious to his own looks. Ten knew Rungs’ optics were pretty, it didn’t surprise the ex-legislator that others would stare.

“Ten. Ten Ten Ten Ten Ten.” Rung sighed in relief, he knew he wasn't overreacting. But for Ten to say he was pretty? That was preposterous. How could the others think that he, Rung, an old worn out phycologist, be pretty?

“Well, thank you for your help Ten. Though, I probably won’t be going to Swerves’ for a while, at least until they’ve forgotten what transpired last cycle.” Rung held Tens’ servo, “Now, how about we make some figures? It's been awhile since we’ve been able to do so.”

Ten nodded his head enthusiastically, making his way to his work bench as Rung followed. Rung smiled, he couldn't wait to get started.

Chapter Text

Rung waved goodbye to Ten, and made his way to his office. He held a small figure of Ten in his hands, covered in little organic flowers. The figure looked exactly like Ten, if he was as small as Rungs’ servo, and would go perfectly on his office shelf with his models.

They ended up making miniature figures of themselves, before handing them off to one another to keep. Rung tried his best with his figure sculpting, and went all out on the painting. He was always good at doing the smaller details of paint than he was sculpting.

Rung entered his office, walking up to his shelves, and placing the little Ten next to his model of the Lost Light. Rung clasped his hands together to his chest, as if in a prayer, and smiled. It had been the longest time since he got to hang out with Ten.

When they were together, they caught up with one another in their lives. Rung telling Ten of his trip to the medbay for underfueling and no recharge, then Ten freaking out and pushing a cube, out of nowhere, into his hands.

While they worked on the figures, and he drank his cube, Ten caught him up on others, and of how his job as a waiter/bouncer was going at Swerves’.

Rung put his hands back down to his sides, and sat at his desk in the back of the office. He opened a drawer and brought out a stack of datapads that needed to be completed.

He slowly went through them, taking his time. By the time he was done, a knocking brought his attention to the door to his office.

Rung quickly put the datapads away, he didn’t want to be yelled at if it was Ratchet at the door. He would throw a fit at him for completing paperwork on his cycle off. He hastily grabbed a random pad from his book collection inside his desk.

Rung closed the drawer to the desk and shouted, “Come in!” The door opened to Skids. Why was he here? He didn’t have any appointments until the end of the week.

“Hey Rung, saw you at the bar yesterday, think you dropped this.” Skids made his way to Rung, holding out something in his servo.

Skids handed him a pallet. The same one he had the night at Swerves. It was cleaned and absent of the paint he had on it.

“Oh dear, thank you Skids. I didn’t even realize I had dropped it!” Rung opened the compartment on his arm, putting away the pallet.

Skids walked backwards towards the door, “You are welcome Rung, by the way you should go see Swerve at some point. Feels bad for making a scene.” Skids left Rungs’ office with a wave and a goodbye.

Rung sat back in his chair, maybe he should visit Swerve tomorrow. He would have nothing to do anyway, he still had three cycles left until he could go back to work.

Rung opened the random pad he had grabbed, and started to read.

Chapter Text

Rung groaned, his spinal strut aching, and lifted his head from his arms. He looked around at his surroundings, only to find himself in office.

Slag, he must have fallen asleep at his desk again. He quickly checked his comms for any missed calls or messages from his patients.

He smacked his helm. How could he forget, he was off for two more cycles, he didn't have any patients to worry about. He quickly checked his chronometer and put away the datapad he had been reading.

He stood from his chair, twisting his upper body side to side, and lifting his arms to stretch. He felt sore sleeping as he did. His old joints suffering the strain that had been brought upon them.

He stiffly walked towards the door, making his way to Swerves bar. Might as well fuel for the day and assure Swerve that he was forgiven.

Rung walked the path to the bar, encountering mechs heading towards their morning shift. He smiled and waved at them, and for the first time, they waved back.

Rungs optics widened, and his smile turned to a grin. This was a surprise. The morning crew almost never acknowledged him, always ignoring his waves or good mornings.

Rung made his way to the bar, and opened the door. The main lights were on and the neons off. Seems as if Swerve had only just gotten up from recharge,

Rung walked around tables empty of mechs, and to Swerve's counter. He sat on a stool, waiting for Swerve to come out from behind the back.

He twisted left and right on the stool, before spinning as hard as he could, sending him in a circle. He giggled, helm still spinning as he came to a stop.

He didn't know why he felt so giddy today. Could it be mechs acknowledging him? Or the fact he's experiencing joy he hadn't felt since before the Golden Age of Cybertron.

He watched loopily as Swerve came from behind the back, looking at him funnily. “Rung! Hi! I'm glad to see you here actually-” Rung cut Swerve off, putting his pointer finger to his mouth, and shushing him.

Swerve looked at Rung confused. “Rung? I-” Rung interrupted again with the shushing.Rung started giggling uncontrollably, falling from his place on the stool, and landing on the floor.

“Rung! Oh Primus, are you okay?” Swerve got out from behind the counter, kneeling by Rung. Rung continued laughing, optics filling with tears and pouring down his cheeks.

“Rung, what's wrong? Hey buddy?” Swerve snapped his fingers in Rungs’ face only to be met with uncontrollable sobbing. Rung wrapped his arms around Swerve, hugging him, and sobbing.

Swerve hugged Rung back. He didn't know what was happening with Rung, but Swerve knew that he needed comfort.

Chapter Text

Rung held Swerve tightly, he did not know why he was crying. He was having such a good morning too, only to be ruined by his sobbing. He pulled away from Swerve, taking his glasses off, freeing the tears building up inside of them.

Swerve stared at Rung, he didn’t know what to do, or how to comfort him. He could only watch the sniffling mech wipe his own tears from his glasses. When Rung was done, he put his glasses back on, and muttered something under his breath.

“Rung, hey, you okay now? Want me to take you back to your room?” Swerve picked himself off the floor, extending his servo out to help Rung. Rung nodded and took the servo slowly, wobbling on his feet as he stood.

Rung carefully walked with Swerve, tears drying up, but streaks still left on his face. They walked through the halls of the Lost Light, passing Whirl and a couple other mechs on their way. Rung kept his head down, he didn’t want anyone to see, he only wanted to go home to his room.

As they approached the habsuite, Swerve carefully took Rungs’ servo into his, “Are you okay Rung? And don’t lie to me, please, I’m worried about you. Slag it, Everyone on this ship is worried about you!” He said calmly looking into Rungs’ dim optics.

Rung shook his head, he didn’t feel good. He just wanted to curl up in his berth and stay there. They approached the door to Rung’s habsuite, and as Rung was putting his code into the door, he heard a gurgle.

Swerve looked at him as the door swished open, “...Have you had your morning fuel yet? I can go grab some if you like.” Rung nodded and carefully made his way to his berth, bringing the blanket over his body, and curling into a ball.

Swerve watched Rung, “I’ll be right back okay?” No movement came from the blanket, and Swerve retreated from Rung’s room, making his way back to his bar. He couldn’t help but frown, should he comm Ratchet? No, he could do that later, when Rung was feeling better.

He made his way behind the bars’ counter, heading to the back to fetch two cubes of regular energon. “Yo Swerve! What’s up with Eyebrows? He finally cracked or somethin’?” Whirl shouted into the bar.

Swerve grumbled, Whirl was such a pain to deal with, always starting fights or indulging in too much engex when in the bar. “It’s none of your business Whirl.” Rolling his eyes while coming out from behind the counter with two cubes, “the bar is closed for today, leave.”

Whirl stared at Swerve with his one optic, “Fine, if you won’t tell me what's wrong with Eyebrows, then I'll ask him myself.” Whirl turned away from Swerve, and quickly made his way out of the bar. “WHIRL! Leave Rung alone! He's struggling right now!”
Swerve ran after him, tucking the cubes in this subspace.

Whirl stopped in his path leading to Rungs’ office, “Oh Eyebrows’ is struggling now is he? Which means he can't interfere with anything I do at the moment, yeah? Great shortie, I’m going to do something… explosive.” Whirl ran off, making his way to wherever.

Swerve sighed, Whirl was such a pain in his aft. Plus, Whirl had been going the wrong direction anyway, so even if he did reach Rung’s office, no one would be there. He backtracked his steps to make his way to Rungs’ room, and opened the door.

The blanket had not moved, neither had Rung, but his glasses now lay on a small shelf near the berth. Swerve walked inside, bringing the cubes from his subspace, and setting them down on a desk with a singular unpainted model. It was the same one Rung had brought the night before.

Swerve took a deep intake, he still had to apologize to Rung. He walked up to the rounded blanket and shook the mech underneath. “Rung, can you get up? I brought fuel.” The blanket slowly came off of Rung, his glasses gone, revealing the fresh tears rolling down his face.

Swerve grabbed Rungs’ cube, handing it to him. He smiled softly as Rung drank his cube. He sat on the side of the berth, drinking his own fuel. Rung sipped at his cube, pausing, “Thank you…” He said in a whisper.

“You’re welcome Rung… you feel better now?” Rung nodded in response, finishing off his cube. He layed back down, snuggling back into the blankets as he did so. Rung muttered, this time louder.

“Rung,” Swerve placed his unfinished cube and Rungs’ own empty cube into his subspace, “Do you want me to stay? I already told a bot I won’t be opening the bar.” Swerve knew Whirl would spit out the bar would be closed at some point that day. Especially if he gets caught with whatever he's doing, Ultra Magnus would want the whole story in detail.

Rung reached his servo from under the blanket, and pulled Swerve from his spot on the berth. Swerve layed on the berth next to Rung, blanket thrown over him, and Rung snuggling up to him.

Swerve smiled as Rungs’ optics blinked off into recharge. He scooped Rung closer, and fell into recharge himself.

Chapter Text

Rung awoke sleepily, he had the most wonderful dream of Swerve. He clutched the mech in his berth and- wait. WHAT?! Rung shot up, screaming and kicking. “Ow! Rung what the frag!?” Rung calmed, it was Swerve?

Why was Swerve in his berth? And why- Ohhhhhhhh…. That wasn’t a dream, it actually happened. Rungs’ face flushed, why had he dragged Swerve to his berth! “Rung?? Are you good?” Swerve waved a servo, it was extremely blurry. Where were his glasses?

“Swerve? Do you happen to know where my glasses are?” Swerve smiled, reached out to the small shelf that held Rung’s glasses, and handed them to Rung. Rung placed them on his face, “Swerve, um.. I- I am sorry for making you stay with me,” Rung crossed his arms, rubbing them with his servos.

“It's alright Rung, you needed the company. Plus, I didn’t have anything to do today.” Swerve grinned at Rung, leaning on the berth, back against the wall. He patted the spot next to him, urging Rung to sit by him.

Rung crawled the berth, sitting next to Swerve, “So, wanna talk about yesterday?” Rung frowned, he wasn’t quite sure what happened yesterday, all he knew was that he felt happy only for it to come crashing down on him.

“I am unsure Swerve. I do not know what happened yesterday, I just started to cry suddenly.” Swerve nodded at nothing, he understood. Swerve had felt that way before, and had seen other mechs in his bar overwhelmed before.

Swerve turned his head to face Rung, “It’s okay, I’ve felt that way before Rung,” Rung stared at Swerve. “Really? You have?” Swerve nodded, “Of course, it happens to most mechs, sometimes we just get overwhelmed or just need a good cry, you understand?” Run smiled, he understood.

Rung had never cried a lot in his lifetime, only after the death of a close friend, or the loss of a patient, did he ever cry. He had been bubbling up his emotions inside. He snickered out loud, how hypocritical of him. A therapist withholding emotions.

Swerve smiled at the snicker, and hugged Rung. Rung squeaked, and hugged back. “If you ever need someone to talk to, come to me okay?” Swerve pulled back, and Rung nodded once more.

“So, whatcha wanna do? I’d usually be running the bar at this time, butttttt I wanna be here with you.” Rung grinned, he knew exactly where they could go.

“I have an idea, but give me a second to grab something.” Rung sprung from the berth, heading to a closet Swerve hadn’t even noticed when coming into the room. Rung swung the door of the closet open, digging through the empty boxes of his models he saved. He grabbed a basket, peaked inside, and smiled.

“Alright, all we need is some cubes, and we can go.” Rung headed towards the door, the basket in hand. Swerve quickly got up from the berth, following Rung.

“We could go to the bar and grab some of the Low-grade Engex you, apparently, like. Along with some regular cubs of course.” Swerve walked alongside Rung, making their way to the bar.

“Yes, great idea Swerve, thank you.” Swerve smiled, reaching his servo out to hold Rung’s own. Rung flushed, taking the servo offered and continued their walk to Swerve’s bar.

Chapter Text

Rung and Swerve walked servo in servo down the halls of the Lost Light, both smiling and flustered.

Others who passed them looked fondly at them before continuing with whatever they were doing.

The hall leading to the bar was empty. Swerve opened the door, and entered, servos still attached.

Rung and Swerve went behind the counter, into a backroom holding spare engex and energon. Swerve detached his servo from Rung to pick up a few pre-made cubes of mid and low grade engex, along with some regular cubes. He slowly handed them off to Rung as he placed them in his basket.

They reconnected servos when done, and made their way back out of the bar. Rung led Swerve down the hallway of the Lost Light, basket in hand, guiding them to their destination.

They passed the lab of Brainstorm and Perceptor, heading to the back of the ship. Rung opened a door, inside held a massive window.

Swerves’ mouth fell open, he had never seen this room before, it was empty save for a few boxes and scattered chairs. A wall held a massive window leading to the vast void of space, but the view was amazing.

Rung pulled him with his servo, leading them to the middle of the room. Rung pulled a giant cloth out of nowhere, laid it on the floor, and sat down on top of it.

Swerve followed Rungs’ footsteps, and sat down as well. “How’d you find this place? I’ve never seen it before!”

Rung smiled, “I found this place my first week on the Lost Light. I used to come here when party's happened. No one would bother me, and I would have peace.”

Rung opened the basket, taking out the cubes they had taken from the bar, a large package of rust sticks, and a box of energon sweets.

“Rust sticks and sweets? Man Rung, where did you get these?” Swerve asked, grabbing a rust stick for himself.

Rung giggled at the moan Swerve made when the treat landed in his mouth. “I used to dabble in baking, when I didn't have any models to build or patients to see.”

Rung plucked an energon sweet from its box popping it into his mouth, he hummed. It had been too long since he's had such a treat in his system.

“Really? You made these? They're amazing Rung!” Swerve grabbed a mid-grade engex cube and another rust stick, popping the stick into the cube to act as a straw.

Rung flushed, he always felt self conscious in letting others try his food. But Swerve's reaction made his worries dissipate into the air.

They sat and chatted, drank engex, and ate sweets. By the time they finished, it was time for recharge.

The overcharged Rung looked at Swerve, “Swerve… I had an extremely good time with you and was wondering if you would like to… get together?” Rung forced out, closing his optics waiting for rejection.

Rung felt a mouth on his, and opened his optics. Swerve was kissing him, and he kissed back. Loopily, he swung his arms around Swerve's neck, pulling him closer.

They made out, pulling back only to take at intake. “Will you come to recharge in my quarters again tonight?” Rung said, resting his head in the crook of Swerve's neck.

“Yes, yes I will.” The pair cleaned the aftermath of their date, and left the room servos together, in a new light.