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It felt good to have a functioning jaw again. 

“Everything feel alright?” Berylstar was asking as he was putting tools away. 

Flashwing opened and rotated his jaw, testing every motion for any flaws or pain.  Other than a slight ache from where Berylstar did the welding there was nothing.  “Yes, thank you,” he responded as he slipped off the ta-Rustshift.  “So nice to be able to speak properly again….” 

“And eat properly,” Rustshift added after reverting back to his default mode. 

“Oooh, yes…speaking of which….” He looked at Berylstar hopefully. 

The helo laughed.  “Sky drops will have to wait a few more days, Flashwing,” he told him.  “To give the repairs a chance to fully take, I wouldn’t try biting anything too hard.” 

Flashwing cut loose a dramatic sigh, folded his arms and pouted, earning him another laugh. 

“Acting like a sparkling again, I see,” Rustshift teased, to which Flashwing gave him a snobbish huff. 

“That aside,” Berylstar stated, drawing his attention.  “The repairs to your protoform are complete, save for a few things.  Your hands and primary wings for instance, and….”  The helo appeared to be unsure how to word this.  Flashwing had a good guess on what he was referring to, however. 

“My array, specifically my valve,” he sighed.  “To be honest…I am not sure I want that repaired.” 

“I…did notice it was quite ravaged,” Berylstar commented, sympathy in his tone.  “I dread to think what happened to cause that damage and the memories associated with it.” 

Flashwing shifted uncomfortably.  “That damage was self-inflicted,” he informed them softly.  After seeing both mech’s optics briefly widen in shock, he opted to elaborate.  “When simply raping a traitor wasn’t enough to draw in customers, the bordello I was owed by at the time decided to change things up.  They did so by using a new drug called ‘Lust’…which simulated the heat cycle.” 

“Oh Primus…I’ve heard about that stuff,” Berylstar breathed.  “Only recently became ‘publicly’ available from what I’ve heard.” 

“Well…they used slaves like me as field test subjects for that scrap,” Flashwing grumbled bitterly.  “I don’t know how the other slaves reacted to it, but I know it eventually gave me Persistent Array Arousal Disorder.  Drove me to the point of destroying my own valve to get rid of it.” 

Berylstar was nodding in understanding.  “You fear having your valve repaired would herald it’s return.”  Flashwing nodded stiffly, a tremble passing through his frame at the memory.  “Very well, I will not touch your valve until you are ready.” 

“Thank you….” 

“Instead I’ll do what I can for your hands, though I fear I may have to ‘hand’ them over to Ratchet.” 

“Oh, Beryl!” Rustshift groaned, Flashwing rolling his optics with him.  “That was horrible!” 

Berylstar was just snickering.