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Fate had cursed him.  He was bought and the Pound Medic gave him enough energon to survive the journey.  Doomed to suffer even more.  Even with the additional energon, Flashwing could barely move as he was carried into his new ‘home’.  If not due to the lack of energy, but because of the pain and how fragged up his body was. 

The smell confirmed it was indeed some kind of laboratory he was taken into.  He could smell the various chemicals for both medical and general chemistry.  His audios picked up the hums, clicks and beeps of various equipment. 

What sort of torture was he in for here? 

“Rustshift,” his new owner called out.  “I need a table, please.” 

“You’re gonna make a mess, aren’t you, Berylstar?”  a rough sounding mech commented.  Flashwing attempted to see who the second mech was, but he was looking primarily out of his damaged right optic.  All he could see was a fuzzy mass of…reddish brown and electric blue? 

There was a bit of a pause.  Flashwing turned his attention back to his new owner.  At least at this distance, he could make out what frame type he was.  He was a flyer, helo type and from what details he caught, his rotors were split and arranged in a way that resembled duel shoulder capes. 

The mech was looking down at him, golden optics narrowed in thought. 

“Depends on what I find,” Berylstar finally replied, looking up.  “I’ll make it up to you, either way.” 

“Of course,” Rustshift remarked, his tone one of understanding. 

There was the sound of someone transforming.  Nano’s later, Flashwing felt himself being laid upon a surprisingly warm surface.  Berylstar then started attaching various leads to him, including an energon IV. 

“’ese…,” Flashiwng begged, struggling to speak.  “’eh ‘e I…I’e ‘uffered euff….” 

He was expecting him to say that he hadn’t suffered enough.  That death was too good for him.  Surprisingly, Berylstar had an expression of sympathy.  Briefly.  Then it was replaced by one of determination. 

“I am sorry,” Berylstar commented as he felt a jack being slipped into his medical port.  “I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to die just yet….” 

Flashwing vented a shuttering sigh, tears leaking from his optics.  He felt the familiar sensation of being put into medical stasis starting to take hold. 

Perhaps…despite Berylstar’s words…he will never come out of it….