Chapter Text
Self Sabotage
or
Lies I’ve Told to Make Myself Feel Better.
Warnings for this chapter: mentions of rape, Whirl provoking an attack, Whirl being well, Whirl. Chapter one's pretty tame.
This fic totally does not stay that way.
Enjoy!
Rung stares up at his ceiling, mind returning again to the scene at the bar.
He kept replaying the events over and over, finally narrowing down the specific point where his intuition had gone off. He knew better than to ignore it but everything had happened so quickly he hadn’t had the time to reflect and react. He still didn’t know what he was reacting too, not really. Something with Whirl.
Something wrong with Whirl.
He replays the audio he recorded, lets himself drift to help himself visualize.
“What would you know about consent?” Cyclonus snarled, optics dark narrow slits.
“About every way to break it.” Whirl had fired back, tone smug- except something’s not quite right. It takes Rung a moment to realize its because he was still at the edge of Whirl’s field, close enough to feel the dark current roll through it. He recognized that emotion in his patient, the specific tinge in his field. That was a special brand of self-hatred and shame.
He could feel it, right there, the tiny pull on his spark. This had been the moment that had set him off.
The context of it was Cyclonus, Swerve, Chromedome and Tailgate. The topic was Whirl’s habit of shouting crudely at mechs. He’d gone off on Tailgate right as Cyclonus had walked in. The result was a tense conversation about one's honor and worth, ending when Whirl told and implied that he had broken many a mech’s consent before-and heavily enjoyed it. That had started the physical fight that had landed Whirl and Cyclonus in Ratchet’s care, and then finally the brig.
Rung’s first instinct was to say no, that Whirl was incapable of that kind of abuse. But then, his second instinct was to remind himself that with Whirl one never really knew. Whirl was unpredictable, impulsive and shucked responsibilities more than Rodimus did. Rung could not, in good conscious, say that Whirl couldn’t pull off that kind of crime. Given Whirl’s history of sudden violent outbursts, crude comments and general personality-well it's a perfect cocktail for a mech who could blow right through one's consent. Consent could be revoked in a number of ways, not all of them the “kidnap and force” variety that Cyclonus seemed to interpret that statement as. Rung could easily see Whirl refusing a partner who asked him to stop. Could easily see Whirl not thinking of it as a big deal.
Except that felt wrong. Rung frowned, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to puzzle out the little tugs on his spark.
He replayed the audio again.
He focused this time on the dark current in Whirl’s field. Whirl’s emotions were often all over the place, and his self-hatred manifested in multiple ways. Rung tried to remember the feel of this one, tried to remember what it was associated with.
“What do you know about consent?”
“About every way to break it.”
Alright, yes, Rung has to admit that Whirl is extremely crude. His tone is crude, even. The mech knows no bounds especially when it comes to voicing his thoughts. Has no filters. He just blurts thoughts out, without forethought or care.
“Hey sexy, Iemme show you how to see some real stars!”
“Bring that curvy aft over here! Let ol’ Whirl spank it!”
“I’ll give you a reason to moan you little-”
And on and on. They only got more vulgar, and even when it wasn’t directed at specific mechs Whirl took a special pleasure in describing berth activities in colorful detail to anyone willing to listen. He could make Wreckers blush-which really wasn’t too impressive if you remembered he’d been one. But it didn’t add up.
It took Rung a minute to realize that was because Whirl never acted on it.
Sure, the mech popped personal bubbles like it was his Primus given mission. He drapped those claws of his over everybot’s shoulders at least once-but he yanked them back if they weren’t wanted, and he never touched anyone anywhere else. The crudeness was annoying, but if anything Whirl went out of his way to avoid casually brushing against people. He touched you on his terms. That was something common with Empurata victims, something Rung hadn’t really looked at beyond the surface and now he’s regretting it because thinking on it, Whirl had gone beyond a normal Empurata reaction. With “normal” Empurata victims, touch was something they had to reclaim. They felt odd in their new bodies, often ashamed, and the stigmas against them were often so ingrained that by the time someone wanted to touch them casually, they would flinch rather than welcome it. Extreme violence wasn’t a typical response. At least, not as an immediate reaction anyway. Particularly since Empurata victims often didn’t recognize touches or even pain, due to their disconnect with their own bodies.
Rung could think of at least two fights at Swerves that had been started because someone had touched Whirl.
Even that could be explained though, Rung reasoned. Whirl had spent a long, long time on Garrus-9 and then did a stint as a Wrecker. His violent reaction could easily be explained.
Rung’s spark tugged a little harder. Intuition, his ability to follow little threads in files and decipher small physical cues that lead him to big breakthroughs in mechs came to life again, pulling on him. Telling him.
‘Alright then.’ He thought. ‘Garrus-9. The Wreckers. A violent life.’ Rung rewound the audio again.
“What do you know about consent?”
Rung had Whirl’s files, all of them, the impressive collection that they were. His files while on Garrus-9 were mostly brief and centered around attempted uprisings or various fights. It did discuss the amount of prison mates kept with Whirl (a multitude) and the amount of times he had had to visit the infirmary (quite a bit more than a multitude) and not much else because the war had been starting, the political atmosphere had imploded and prisons were one of those things you just forgot about when the planet was splitting in two.
Garrus-9 had been home to a lot of Decepticons, eager to get their hands on Whirl. In prisons, it was customary to remove all weapons and weapons systems, and anything that could exacerbate a problem. Whirl’s claws had been blunted, dulled so they could barely dent metal. His rotary blades would have been bound or removed entirely. Whirl’s file further specified they had taken steps after his incarnation to halt his fighting. By the end of his first year, Whirl would have been entirely defenseless.
“About every way to break it.”
There were plenty of ways to hurt a mech without any weapons.
Rung’s intuition is screaming and suddenly, it all clicks.
He recognized that emotion in his patient, the specific tinge in his field. That was a special brand of self-hatred and shame-
A specific brand of self-hatred and shame that came when Whirl had gotten hurt, had been unable to defend himself or others. It appeared most when he was overpowered or forced down by stronger mechs, on nights when Ultra Magnus had had enough and manhandled the copter into the brig, with Whirl being unable to escape his grasp. Applying that brand of self-hatred and shame to the fight that had erupted today-
“What would you know about consent?” - and the topic had definitely been about sexual consent specifically. He would know, he had been there, had seen the context of the argument. Which would mean-
Rung doesn’t swear. Hasn’t sworn much, since he was released from the Functionalists. Hasn’t had a reason too. This, this was most certainly a reason too. He can’t bring himself to curse aloud but he chants the words mentally, immediately shooting Ultra Magnus his medical override and emergency codes. He’s on his way to the brig before he fully realizes he’s even left his hab suite.
Rung pauses briefly, when he realizes he doesn’t entirely know what he’s doing. He’s looking at Whirl in a new context, in a new light yes and he’s had to completely re-examine Whirl’s interactions and behaviors completely-but should he pull Whirl out of the brig? At this late of an hour? Wouldn’t this be best left to a normal therapy session? Whirl had not told him this information specifically and yes, if Rung confirmed it it meant he’d have to completely overhaul all of Whirl’s treatments, but...well. This is why therapists were not supposed to hang out with their patients casually. A personal connection made you overreact. Yes, maybe he should send an apology to Ultra Magnus, just state he thought some things out and reacted without thinking-
An angry pull on his spark.
And then Rung doesn’t need a reason, because that was his intuition speaking and he trusts it to know what’s best. It wants him to get Whirl.
So he does.