Guns For Hands <> Optimus Prime X Vehicon! Reader <> Discontinued

2 <> The Outsider

C h a p t e r  T w o
2 n d  P O V
9 - 1 0 - 1 8
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   "Don't get on my bad side, I can work a gun," – The Outsider by Marina & The Diamonds
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   Apparently, a team of vehicons had been sent to assess the damage. They somehow managed to find you amongst the damage and carried you to the Medical Wing. You might be expendable, but you were still useful as long as you were alive.

You woke up slowly. You were groggy and let out a tired groan. The first thing you did as your vision adjusted to the light above you was place a servo on your faceplates. You needed to make sure your mask was on, and indeed it was. You'd feel so embarrassed if you didn't. Knock Out sure knew how to work a buffer. Speaking of the doctor, once he saw you awake, he rushed right on over to check up on you.

As you did so, you found yourself becoming increasingly displeased and annoyed by the interruption to your routine. It almost never happened. You grumbled and sulked.

Hold on.

Embarrassment? Displeasure? Annoyance?

You were experiencing emotion on a much greater scale than you'd ever experienced. You realized, as you tuned out the doctor's ramblings, that you'd felt an intense emotion. Of course, you were very careful not to show it out of fear of how those around you would react. You nearly fainted as you became aware of your racing thought process.

  You stiffened and straightened as a result of your discoveries. You tuned back into the conversation, only to see Knockout waving you off and turning away to check on another patient. It seemed you were all done here.

   You exited the Medbay and checked your internal clock. Now was about the time where you would be sent to protect the mines. That was no longer it, however, as the place had been destroyed, and the remaining energon had been stolen by your opponents. Your servos became fists and your muscles tightened with anger at the thought of failing your primary function.

   Anger. There was another one. These feeling were overwhelming to someone who'd only felt small tastes throughout their short lifespan. You found yourself almost unable to stand on your own, reaching out to the wall for support.

   Ping! A message came to your comm link. You'd been assigned to a new mine. Anxiousness spiked in your chassis as you realized how little time you had to reach the flight deck. You still needed to refuel!

   You hurriedly made your way towards the energon room, quickly realizing that a stressed out drone would seem very out of place. You slowed down and speedily made your way towards the room, got yourself a cube, and as inconspicuously as you could, gulped it down like your life depended on it. Then, you bolted out, realized you'd just made the same mistake, and slowed down your pace. Under your mask, you bit the inside of your intake. It was an action you stopped after you realized it was a trait of nervousness.

You sighed, feeling helpless. Stop it stop it stop it! You slammed your pedes on the ground out frustration. You groaned. You really needed to keep your emotions in check. This was going to take a while to get used to, and that wasn't even addressing your sporadic autonomous thought.

You drones never really needed to talk or speak and ended up doing it very little. Now, you had an entire thought process and voice of your own, instead of echoes of the other soldiers. You were completely terrified the entire time you power walked to the flight deck. Oh, how you wished you could tell someone. You nearly moaned from the overwhelming guilt it gave you.