Summary: Breakdown calls for help when Vortex's taunting gets too much. And Motormaster actually responds.
Warnings: Minor violence and Stunticons being 'cute'
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I've forgotten…
Authors Notes: I am firmly placing the blame for this on casusfere. It was she who mentioned the scene. I just said it had to be written. And of course, she fed the bunny! And if you can come up with a better title, please let me know!
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
The comm. from Breakdown hadn't exactly come as much of a surprise. Vortex had been hounding the Lamborghini for weeks, needling at him whenever he had a chance. It was to be expected that Breakdown would eventually break down. And call for help.
What was surprising was that Motormaster found himself responding to the strangled cry for help, stalking down the corridor towards Breakdown's location, intent on teaching the sadistic helicopter that no one messed with his team and got away with it. Some lessons just had to be learnt the hard way.
When he reached the supply room Vortex had cornered Breakdown in, all thoughts of teaching the Combaticon a lesson fled from his processor the moment he saw Breakdown crouched in the corner, cringing away from Vortex. A quick step forward, a yank, a pull and a twist and Vortex was hanging from the ceiling by his own rotor blades. Satisfied with his punishment, Motormaster hauled Breakdown up, slinging him over his shoulder, ignoring any protests (not that there were any) and stalking back to his quarters.
What surprised Motormaster was the fact that Breakdown refused to leave him alone once they'd reached the relative safety of his quarters. Heaving a sigh, Motormaster settled himself on his berth, doing his very best to ignore the Lamborghini that crawled up next to him. Resigning himself to 'babysitting' his paranoid team-mate until he calmed down, Motormaster pulled out a datapad and started reading. So engrossed in the violent history he was reading, he barely noticed when Breakdown claimed his arm, curling around it and settling down as though to recharge. It was just a convenient place to rest his arm.
It was only when Dead End walked in that he realised what had happened.
"What the… no, forget it, I don't want to know."
"Huh?" Attention drawn away from his datapad, Motormaster looked up at the Porsche.
"Oh, yeah." Feigning complete ignorance of the way he was effectively cuddling Breakdown, he glared at Dead End. "He makes a comfy armrest."
"Of course." Knowing it was better not to push his luck taunting Motormaster, Dead End stepped up and leant in close to Breakdown.
"I has a semi…" The Lamborghini muttered sleepily.
"Riiight…" Abruptly, Dead End straightened. "I think I shall go visit Hook and see if he can't scrub my processors clean with some acid."