Sensitive topics. Fair warning. Also OOC Rodimus. (OOC everyone...)

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Energon was everywhere. Your pedes and lower legs were covered in the Cybertronian life substance. Crowds cheered as the offlined frame hit the sand-like ground of the arena. The ground shook with the cheers as the crowd went wild.

You glared at all the mechs and femmes who had come to watch with hatred. Pulling out your grenades, which were contraband, you pulled the pin and threw it into the crowd.

The safety screen went up right before it hit some of the Seeker spectators.

"Pin it down!" Yelled the crowd, shying away and running from their seats. Ropes flew over your bodym You thrashed at the binds until a tranquilizer dart hit your neck cables, making you fall over.

You shot up from your berth, gripping the cold, metal sides of it as you did so. The surface bent under your servo.

Your servo felt weird. Looking down, you found why- it had transformed while you were in recharge and had gotten jammed. Again.

As thrilled about it as you were, you knew that you'd have to come clean eventually. So far, you had given them your name, (Y/n), and nothing more.

"I had been an energon farmer." You were a gladiator in the Gladiatorial Pits of Kaon.

"I had been farming one day when a Decepticon bomb blew up my housing units, resulting in the scars across my armour." You had been beaten and whipped by trainers who saw you as nothing more than a piece of metal that made them money.

"I'm perfectly fine." You were far from fine. No matter how many times you'd say it or try to convince the other members on the ship, they kept sending you to Ratchet and Rung.

Ratchet had done some mild research and found that you couldn't be around spilt energon. Wounds that leaked energon, after so many eons of being forced to draw it, brought out the worst of you- an enraged monster with swords and a gun, swinging and firing. Almost nothing survived an attack by you.

Rung had had roughly 400 sessions with you so far, one taking place nearly every day. The first few were general nothingness until he realised that you wouldn't talk unless spoken to.

From then on, he had a long list of questions if you ever finished early. And that happened a rather lot, because you rarely spoke on your own. It had been beaten into you to not talk unless talked to; talking without permission was one of the worst offences that a gladiator could come up with due to insubordination.

"How are you feeling today?" Asked Rung.

You jumped out of your trance. You hadn't even realized that you had managed to wander out of your berthroom.

"Ack!" A shriek escaped your dermas, bringing your blade up. Rung jumped back and out of your sword's reach. He frowned at the blade as you slowly lowered it.

"Oh my Primus Rung, I am so sorry!" You squeaked. Dropping your blade down, you rushed over to the said mech.

"No, it's quite alright," Rung said calmly, readjusting his glasses. "By any chance, did it happen again?" He asked, gesturing to your servo.

"Yeah," you murmured. 'It' was the reference that the two of you used whenever your servos locked in transformation. It had a tendency to happen when you had the nightmares, or really memories, of the Pits. Not that he, or anyone else for that matter, knew.

"Come then, (Y/n)," Rung said peacefully, gesturing to Ratchet and First Aid, who was on the other side of the hallway on the far side. You didn't want to, but you still obliged.

"Well look who we have here," snarked Rodimus. He refused to believe your backstory, claiming that he had seen a femme like you in the Pits. You waved him off as being crazy and not knowing what he was talking about.

Shying away from him, you stuck to the wall. The plan was to avoid him and not start any issues. Any more issues, really.

"Rung I am still telling you that she's that Pits femme!" The Prime whined, slouching. His wings sagged noticeably.

"Rodimus, it is not kind to make accusations," Rung said, stopping in front of Rodimus.

"You won't be saying that when I'm right," he said angrily. You looked down, suddenly finding the floors of the ship to be incredibly intriguing.

The noise from the two mechs, mostly Rodimus, seemed to drown into the black hole of nothingness.

"I'm telling you, mech, that femme's gonna win!" Yelled a voice, a slam sounding soon after.

"Naw, dude, that duo, Terror Twins, are definitely gonna beat her sorry aft!" More slamming. "That femme doesn't stand a chance!"

Two mechs, gamblers, were betting on who would win: (Y/n) or the Terror Twins. It was one of the most anticipated matches the Ring had ever had in it's history.

The femme who defied all odds and never lost a battle, who fought ruthlessly and played dirty, against the spilt-spark twins who were nearly invincible and had a dangerous reputation for killing before the match even began.

The amounts of currency were flying into the 8 and 9 digits, reaching new heights. It was all from bickering, too. Bickering about you.

"Stop," you croaked, gaining Rung's attention. Rodimus continued to yell though. He was determined to not have his ego ruined by some femme, especially one who had made him look like a fool time and time again in front of the entire crew. 'Mech's and their egos,' you had once scoffed.

"There's got to be a reason that you go nearly insane when you see spilled energon," whined the yellow and red Prime. "There's got be some backstory that makes it click."

You looked down once more, not wanting to challenge the ship's captain. That would only end in complete and utter disaster just as previous times had.

By now, the ship's medics had left the hallway, wandering off to do other business and as well as to avoid the possible fight that could potentially break out.

"Rodimus, please calm down," Rung said yet again, remaining docile in the conversation.

Dots and colors swam across your vision. The energon left your helm, making you lighthelmed. You stumbled, clinging to the Lost Light's walls like a lifeline.

"Guys, stop," you whispered, recovering. Letting go of the wall, you stood up again. Your passive (e/c) optics were a cold and hard black, darker than even that of deep space where not even a ray of light shone.

Standing at your full hight, you were about half a helm shorter than Rung. You were still short in your opinion as well as everyone else's.

But in the ship's hallways with your blade out and reaching for your gun, you looked menacing. Rodimus had a look of satisfaction on his faceplates before whispering a quick "Oh scrap!" to Rung.

The Prime was picked up and thrown into the floor. He was in to much of a shock to activate his weapons or protect himself.

Snarling, you grabbed one of his wings and stabbed your sword through it, making the mech howl in pain. He barley had time to raised his digit to his audio receptor, where his comm link communicator lay, and call for help.

Brainstorm happened to be rounding the corner, carrying some things for Perceptor at the moment. He quickly set the collections of powders and acids down and raced towards the scene.

You threw Rodimus Prime to the ground and turned towards your new target: Brainstorm. You wrapped your digits around his neck cables tightly and slammed him into the wall. This produced an "ACK!" from the startled mech, followed by a horrid crunch.

"(Y/n)!" You spun and saw Rung, slowly walking towards you with his servos in the air. "Calm down. Vent," he said.

You closed your optics and did as instructed. Brainstorm yelled, breaking your peaceful trance. Rage filled your optics again and you snapped your helm back towards the mech.

"Maybe Rodimus was right~," you said in a terrifying sing-song voice. "Maybe I was from the Pits~." A maniac's grin covered your faceplates. "Maybe I should have been left alone, wouldn't you agree~?" You taunted in the sickly sweet tone.

Pedesteps made their way closer. You hissed and found yourself face-to-face with Rung.

"Look at me (Y/n)." The orange and white mech looked you right in the optics. "That's it," he said encouragingly.

You dropped your gun and transformed your servo back into it's normal form. Your optics widened tenfold as you saw the extensive damage you had done.

Rodimus had a massive gash running through his right wing and had a bullet hole in his left pede. Brainstorm was next to the unconscious mech, extreme denting adorning his neck cables. Energon coated the walls of the hallway, some having even made it's way into the ceiling. Puddles of the blue substance decorated the hallway.

You gasped softly when you saw that Rung's glasses had cracked webbing across them. His arm plating was severely cut, scratched, and dented from trying to get near you.

You fell backward, hitting your helm on the hallway wall just as the rest of the ship's crew showed up at the scene.

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"(Y/n)," Rung said softly. "It wasn't your fault."

You glared spitefully at your servos. "It was!" You snarled. After some help, as in stealing medical equipment help, you had managed to lock your servos in their normal form. You had locked up your guns and blasters where not even you could get to them.

You suddenly felt bad for snapping at the mech next to you; he was only trying to help, after all.

"I'm sorry," you apologized. "But it was my fault. I lied, the consequences caught up. I snapped, my actions resulted in Brainstorm nearly being offlined and both of them confined in the medical bay for nearly two months."

"Listen to me," Rung said sternly. You looked up at him with tear-filled optics. "This is not your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself and beating yourself up over this."

"R-really?" You stuttered, not looking convinced.

"Yes, (Y/n). Really." He smiled at you.

"I-if you s-say so," you whispered. You fiddled with your digits.

Rung didn't say anything. You looked up and saw the Cybertronian reaching over and grabbing something.

"Here," he said, pulling out one of the colorful cubes that resided in the box. "Energon sweets. They sometimes help make us happier," he explained.

"Thanks," your murmured before popping the sweet into your intake. He looked at you again sadly, sighing.

He picked himself up and moved closer to you. You raised an optical ridge, about to ask what he was doing when you felt a pair of arms around your frame.

Rung was... hugging you?

You leaned into his touch though, grateful for the act of comfort. You clung to his chassis and cried again.

Someone knocked on the door after some time. You slowly pried yourself away and looked up.

"Come in," Rung said, looking up.

Rodimus walked in, Brainstorm following shortly after. Both had multiple casts and weld marks across their frames. Rodimus had it worse though, with majority of his back struts and wings bandaged up. Brainstorm simply had extreme support on his neck cables with weld marks to the extremes decorating his neck cables.

"Hiya (Y/n)!" Chirped Rodimus, who had quickly reverted back to his happy bubbly self. You hadn't know Brainstorm well enough to know if he was doing any better mentally.

You looked down, not making optic contact with either of the mechs.

"We heard you were in here right now, so we decided to drop by," Rodimus continued.

"Thank you," Rung stated kindly. You looked up at the visitors but still avoided optic contact.

"How are you doing?" Asked Brainstorm.

"Eh. Been better, been worse," you said blandly.

"Well," Rodimus said, putting a servo on your shoulder plating, making you flinch slightly, "that's good. We hope you get better soon."

"Yeah," you whispered to no one.

"Hey, you wanna know what's bigger than my ego?" Asked Rodimus, looking at you.

"Hmm?" You hummed in question.

"Rung's spark," Rodimus answered. "He's a good mech- he'll be there for you. Know that. Do us a favor and try to let him help, alright?" Asked the ship's captain. You nodded. "Good."

"We'll let you guys continue your session," Brainstorm said. Rodimus agreed.

Once they left, you and Rung went back to your silence.

At long last, though, you spoke up. "Hey Rung?" You asked quietly. The said mech turned and looked at you, slightly surprised by your bold move.

"Yes, (Y/N)?" He asked curiously.

"Can you come here for a moment please?" You requested, scooting over.

"Of course," replied Rung.

Once he sat you, you latched onto him, wrapping your arms around the mech.

"Thank you for everything," you said quietly.

"Of course," Rung said softly into your audio receptor. "Anytime."

You knew it would be a long road to recovery- that was a guarantee. But you knew that whatever happened, Rung would be there to help.