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“and while lenore dove will forever be my true love, louella is my one and only sweetheart.”
that line hits so hard when you realize how quickly he was calling katniss sweetheart. through katniss’ eyes, it seemed insincere at first, almost like haymitch was mocking her. but now we truly know haymitch wouldn’t just throw that around. he truly cared for her from the start.
Emptiness Machine
Author note: here’s chapter 7! Sorry it took me a bit and today’s chapter is a bit longer to make up for it. Been going through some stuff. No warnings for this chapter!
Coming online by degrees, you take in a shaky vent. Your optics flicker and warning messages blare, taking up all the space on your HUD. Internal damage, low energy, unable to disconnect, major mesh damage. You wince as you try to sit up and see where you are. A servo coming up reflexively to hold your chest plates together. Your digits find a fresh weld there as well as an Energon patch, someone had done minor repairs on your frame. You slowly move your optics over your plating. There were a few more fresh welds. Your optics flick over to find a faint purple glow, and sitting there against the wall you were leaned on, was a cube of Energon.
After looking around some more, you see that you had been taken to some sort of cell. An energy wall separated you from a larger circular room with more cells around the outside. In the center was a terminal and an empty, bot sized chair. Groaning, you try to get to your feet. If they thought you’d trust the Energon cube they left for you after all of what just happened, they were sorely mistaken. You pointedly ignore the persistent ping of the low fuel level warning as it invaded your vision. In your cell there was only a bench. Cybertronians didn’t need water for anything and it seems prisoners weren’t kept alive for very long here. You manage to drag yourself over to the bench and lean back. The patch on your chest still has some Energon infusion left but you need to take stock of the damage done to your actual body.
It takes you a moment to remove the patch but when you do, it’s easy to see the damage. There were long tears in the mesh beneath and the plating had been welded back in place properly. Luckily enough, they had the sense not to weld the seams of the cockpit closed. This gave you access to the gel capsule where your body rested. Engaging the springs manually since the connection was severed when Shockwave had torn into your chassis, you gingerly lift the plating away. It looks about as bad as you had expected. Your body had dried blood on its forehead, there was some bruising. But overall the damage wasn’t that severe. The scuffle with Megatron hadn’t affected the connection. You let out a relieved vent.
Just then, a door slid open with a mechanical swish and in walked the boxy blue bot who had carried you. Soundwave, Megatron had called him. When his visor dropped to your slumped form, you quickly close the plating around your body and glare defensively. He was carrying another Energon cube in one of his servos. The other servo raised in what was supposed to be a gesture of reassurance. He spoke in a quiet tonal voice.
“Little one. You must refuel.”
You glare at him. Little one? This was absolutely not the picture Optimus had painted of the Decepticons. Not getting up or making a move to retrieve the Energon cube he’s already placed inside the cell for you, your optics never leave him. He moves closer, activating a button on the panel outside that opens a small window in the energy field so he can place the second cube inside. He steps back but continues to watch you, his expression unreadable. You try to speak but your speech synthesizer crackles and glitches. The damage Megatron did wasn’t severe but it had wrecked your ability to speak clearly for now. Still you grate out the words through gritted denta.
“Gg-go fr-ag yourssss- tryiing-to poissss-on m-me“
The incomplete sentence hanging in the air a moment before the mech turns away as if to walk out. Before he reaches the door he turns and points to the cubes, speaking one last time over his shoulder.
“Fuel: acceptable. Not contaminated. Refuel.”
With that he leaves, the door sliding shut behind him. You extend your hand in a rude human gesture that would mean nothing to him, but it made you feel better anyway. You can’t help but feel the empty tank of your mech scraping the last bits of Energon from its walls. A little couldn’t hurt could it? Dr. Antonov and the Cybertronian scientists he worked with had made your mech as close to an actual Cybertronian as possible. The biology almost indistinguishable from the alien species except for the cockpit in its chest. This included the nanites that were found within the lines of a mech. The self repair system. He wasn’t sure of the effects nanites would have on the human body at first, but after he discovered the tiny organisms wanted nothing to do with organic matter, he implemented their use in all of his creations.
Taking the cube in your servo you lift it to your olfactory sensors, detecting no poison. You tentatively slide your glossa out to taste the Energon. It tasted just as staticky as it normally does. Hungrily you gulp down the first cube. Systems start to come back online and your vision clears slowly after a few hours. Forcing yourself to save the second cube until you need it again, you lie down on your side with your back to the wall. Your wing panels tuck against your frame and you wait for someone else to return. They had kept you alive for some reason. Perhaps for information or study. At least they knew to keep you out of Shockwave’s lab. Shivering when you think what he might have done with you if the other two hadn’t intervened.
You think back on the times that Optimus Prime had discussed the Decepticons with the members of Project Archangel. There were five back then. Five working mecha and five pilots. He had called a meeting to inform all of you of the danger you were getting ourselves into. He told you everything. The 11 worlds already practically glassed by the Decepticons. How earth was the second to last world and they could have plans to terraform it into a new Cybertron. It seems their homeworld was now uninhabitable due to the chemical weapons utilized by the Decepticons. Optimus blames Megatron for the destruction of their world.
“It didn’t need to be this way. But Megatron had decided the only path to peace on Cybertron was to eliminate an entire generation of our people. He wanted no one left. Only those who were down with him in the pit. Only those who knew the same hardship he did.”
He went on to describe the war on Cybertron before they left. How entire cities were bombed to ash. Burning metal and ozone all that was left of beautiful architecture and culture. All the wealthy citizens didn’t last long under his reign. He took control of most of the planet and its resources before Orion Pax decided to lead a rebellion against his tyranny. The death told had climbed to heights he couldn’t have possibly imagined. Primus himself intervened and deemed the young mech worthy, awarding him with the matrix of leadership. A powerful weapon only wielded by someone who would use it for the right reasons. From then on, Orion became known as Optimus Prime. That is the short version. He talked for hours. You remember nearly falling asleep by the time he finished.
Though the thing that stuck with you the most was the fact that he and his followers had killed indiscriminately. Their rule, though short, was tyrannical. Just the kind of thing they were fighting against. You shook your helmet at the thought. Such blind rage was something you knew well though. There were wars on earth before the Cybertronians came. One of those wars left you without most of your family. Leading you to project archangel and Dr. Antonov.
Your thoughts were once again interrupted by the metallic swoosh of the door opening up and ped steps announced the arrival of a bot. You don’t lift your helm right away. Instead you leave your optics offline and listen. The bot uses a data pad to loudly bang on the outside of your cell making you startle. Your optics find a familiar smug looking face and a crooked smile. Starscream. He speaks, his voice a deep rumble in the circular room.
“I have some questions for you. Care to share some information with me? Seraphim?”
CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually)
WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk, spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC
AUTHORS NOTE: ok so idk how good this is, kinda just word vomited onto the page, tryna generate some emotion in there but lets see how it goes, thanks for reading peeps. I know I said I wasn't gonna post but middle of the night inspiration stuck so imma keep writing this
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
CHAPTER: 7 OF ?
TAG LIST(OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight
The drive to the teams new base of operations was by no means short. While still being on defence land they were nearly three hours away from the main base, located in a flat valley in the hills and surrounded by greenery and training equipment. Ash had been here once before during a cadets course many years ago with her father, but it was vastly different now. The house had changed drastically from what used to be multiple cabins to what was now a single stand alone one story place. However while the accommodation had changed the grounds had stayed the same. There was an assault course set up that flowed into the trees to the south of the house and there was a pool to the west of the house, all in all, it was nothing to complain about.
The house itself was relatively modern, having been rebuilt within the last few years or so. The entrance was sealed by heavy wooden doors that required a pin in order to access. Upon entry Ash took in the place, it was actually really nice. It was open plan living, the kitchen was directly to the right as you came in the doors, nice wooden benchtops and crisp new appliances. Directly in front of the breakfast bar sat the living room. Three nice couches surrounded a rather large square coffee table, laden with maps. The fireplace that the couches faced was made of a slate grey stone and sat underneath the rather large tv. To the right of the fireplace was a door that she had been informed led to the only bathroom in the house that held a shower, while to the left of the fireplace was the door to Ash’s room.
Across the small hallway was the Colonels room, which was attached to his office that was on the far end of the house. At the end of the small hallway was an open archway that, from what she could see, led to a gym. Stepping further into the house and left from the kitchen Ash noticed another two sets of doors. One that led to the boys room, containing four single military style pits and separate draws for each of them, while the second door opened up onto the workspace for them all, which had a door in the back right corner that opened up onto Carrillo’s office. All in all, Ash couldn’t find a single fault to the house, okay perhaps one bathroom to share was gonna be a little tough.
She was startled from her thoughts and exploring when Carrillo called out to her while making his way to his office. “There's some food in the fridge and everything is pretty easy to find so make yourself at home, the boys should arrive in around about five weeks. You’ve got the single room closest to the bathroom” Ash nodded in thanks and watched as he disappeared into the teams workroom, no doubt going to his office to work through the enlistment papers for the rest of the team. Ash didn’t waste much time going to her room, she could eat later when hunger eventually struck her, she was miles too tired from the drive here and sore from moving about so much. Her room was nice. A large double bed sat in the middle of the room encompassed by grey side tables, each sporting a small lamp. In front of the bed sat a tall set of drawers and a small bookcase. Very homely indeed, thankfully, cause god only knows how long the team would be confined to the house doing research and/or planning and training for future raids.
Ash barely gave herself any time to get changed, haphazardly pulling on an oversized shirt and a pair of comfortable gym shorts, before she all but launched herself onto her new bed, grunting in pain when her left side made contact with the bed a little too harshly . She moved onto her back sinking deep into the comfort of the mattress. The bed was like heaven for her after sleeping on either a creaky army pit or the ground for the last twenty some weeks. If this is what she had to look forward to everyday her enthusiasm for work was about to increase ten fold. The moment her head touched the pillow she was out like a light. Thankful for her own space and a bed big enough to move around on and toss and turn how she used to.
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As much as Carrillo enjoyed the rank he was and the respect that followed his name, the paperwork at this level was a nightmare. Especially due to the complaints Sinclair had lodged against him due to the incident at the base hospital. Having to describe in detail the events that occurred between that despicable man and the young officer a mere few rooms over made his blood boil, yet again. He was starting to understand the warnings that came with being posted here, apparently work affairs between ranks wasn’t a condemnable act like it was back home in Columbia. An odd world indeed. Still, within his team he would not tolerate any kind of fraternization, hence his decision to cram the boys into one room together and give Greyson her own room, partly for her own privacy but also for his peace of mind.
Pushing the paperwork to the side of his desk, he sighed. That damn soldier might well be the best thing for the team but she sure came with some complications. He’d done extensive research into his team members upon his arrival to the base, most came from non-military backgrounds, a solid high school education or higher, and most but not all had been serving for at least four years and had seen some kind of fire fight. Then there was Greyson. Military background with files upon files that had been redacted and unable to be accessed by anyone in the force, no matter how hard he’d tried. Only the most basic of information could be found about the young soldier; graduated school with honors and received many scholarship proposals but turned them down, participated in many extracurricular activities before and after her education, applied to join the army as both a regular soldier and an enlisted officer as her father had served but yet again, any information surrounding him and his career or rank had been redacted. A Lot of mystery surrounded this soldier, a mystery the Colonel found himself wanting to solve, even if it did go against his own rule.
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When Ash awoke the room was bathed in light from the full moon outside, the sounds of the bush were a welcome homely feeling for her, nature was her comfort. She went to sit but was struck with immense pain. Both her stab wound and head injuries were sending waves of pain throughout her body, making her vision temporarily blurry. The need to puke was high but Ash pushed it down as far as she could. She was hungry, in pain and now cranky, she just hoped her medication would be easy to find in the kitchen. Stumbling like a newborn deer she tried to shake the dizzy feeling from her head, this concussion was a pain in her ass, but the medics did say the symptoms should be gone within the next few weeks, until then Ash would have to put up with feeling sick and dizzy sometimes. Celebrating when she finally made it to the kitchen without falling on her ass, she then struggled to find the lightswitch, now that was one thing she really should have paid attention too when scouting the house when they arrived.
Having located the switch and turning on the lights she winced, they were just that tad bit too bright for a tired concussed brain. It was when she turned to grab a glass of water to quench her thirst that she noticed a glass already laid out on the bench, with what looked like her meds already measured out beside it and a note beneath the glass. Either she was hallucinating or the stoic Colonel had laid this out for her. Gripping the bench as tight as she could as another wave of nausea overtook her sense she moved closer to the glass, there were her meds. Perfectly placed atop a piece of paper that was covered in a rather elegant script. Each pill had the name and the purpose written next to it and at the bottom of the note were the words “Dinner is in the fridge, eat first. That's an order”
Ash scoffed a little at the note, of course he’d write that, seemed the man was more by the book than she thought. She was silently thankful for his detailed note explaining her meds, if she had to pick them from the bottle she wouldn’t have known what to take. Opening the fridge and grabbing out the only covered plate she was surprised to find that the meal looked home cooked, Did this man really cook dinner? . It was safe to say she was shocked by the thought but proceeded to microwave her dinner anyway, leaning against the bench to keep herself upright, lest the Colonel come into the kitchen later in the day and find her sprawled out on the floor.
Ash all but devoured the food when it was ready, not waiting for anything to cool down, she was far too hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate, or the last time she ate this good. She never would have guessed that Carrillo was this good at cooking, like sure she’d guess he cooked, but this was some next level stuff. Finishing her meal and cleaning up any mess she’d made was an effort at best, the dizzy feeling was getting worse every time she moved. Quickly she gathered the pills from the bench and downed them in one gulp, chasing them down with water, she hoped at least one of them would help with the horrible dizziness and the nausea that accompanied it. The need to sleep was beginning to overtake her again, something she figured would be common while she was recovering, as much as that might annoy her she’d be thankful for the rest.
Like clockwork she yawned, stretching her arms above her head in an attempt to shake the sleep from her body, only to regret the motion a few seconds later. The stitches in her side had pulled impossibly tight at being stretched, her side felt like it was on fire. She reached down to grab her side in pain and pulled her hand away at the warm feeling. Glancing down she noted the rapidly growing red spot seeping into the gauze pad. Of course she had ripped her stitches, she'd been warned by not only the medics but also Carrillo to not move around too much due to her side. Seems she really hadn’t been listening to the warnings. Deciding that she was entirely too tired to deal with the result of her stretching Ash just walked as calmly as she could back to her room and clambered into bed. There was always tomorrow to fix this. And with that, Ash was quick to fall back to sleep, her medication no doubt aiding her plight.
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It was the smell of freshly made coffee that had Ash climbing from her bed and shaking off sleep the next morning. Her medication had definitely kicked in, she could feel no pain from anywhere in her body and the nausea had disappeared finally. To her surprise, Carrillo was standing in the kitchen, dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and simple white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, not the Ash was complaining cause the view from her vantage point was amazing. If Ash believed in a higher power she woulda thought that the gods had gifted her with the man standing in the kitchen. No man had the right to look so sinfully delicious in a simple white shirt like that. It was so tight that it clung to his sculpted upper body and left very little to the imagination The thin shirt was stretched thin across his chest, pecs struggling to stay contained. The fabric was stretched tight across his broad bulky shoulders, his biceps straining against the confines of the sleeves that were sure to tear if he were to flex just the right way. He reclined against the bench facing her but was wrapped up with whatever was on the tv. Ash was obvious in her gawking so it was only a matter of time before his eyes fell to her. When they did, his eyes widened comically in shock. Ash wasn’t sure why until his eyes travelled down her frame and landed on her side before a look of realisation overcame his face.
He took a few quick paces towards her before turning to his right and disappearing into the bathroom with a look of determination on his face. Ash paid him no mind and made her way to the kitchen counter to pour herself a coffee before taking a long pleasant sip. It was a mere minute later that Carrillo was standing in front of her, a med kit laid out on the bench and an expectant look on his face. She looked at him long and hard before realising he was speaking, she gave him a questioning look, tilting her head to the side, before she heard him huff and repeat what he said.
“Greyson, I asked you to take of your shirt”
It was Ash’s turn to gape at him, the audacity of this man, why would the most by the book man she’d ever met be so unprofessional. “Excuse me?” the disbelief in her words made him roll his eyes, if she wasn’t so confused right now she probably would’ve gone off at him for that.
“I don’t know what activities you got up too last night, but you’ve obviously torn through your stitches, despite the warning from both the medics and myself” He said with a small amount of annoyance while pointing at her side. Now that Ash looked down she realised he was right. Blood had well and truly soaked through her bandage and through the shirt she wore to bed, She was unsure how she didn’t notice this sooner because now that she was seeing it with her own two eyes, it was pretty obvious.
Begrudgingly she pulled the shirt over her head, unsure as to why she had to take it off completely before coming to the conclusion that the shirt probably should be washed. She had a second to drop her shirt before Carrillo was standing a mere few inches in front of her, slowly peeling the bandage from her skin before inspecting her wound, Since when was he a medic?, that thought had her laughing silently, or so she thought. Being this close meant that he heard her laugh so she was met with a raised eyebrow and a bored expression on his face, that surely ended her laughter. She was silent while he worked, wincing occasionally when he prodded a little too hard to see her reaction.
“You’ll be fine if you rest for the next few days, you tore the bottom few stitches. Don’t do anything stupid and the wound will be healed on time” His tone was definitive and the order was clear.
Ash groaned and rolled her eyes, a brave thing to do this close to the man. He handed her a bandage then turned around to pack away the supplies from the kit. She quickly fixed the bandage and took off toward her room, coffee abandoned on the bench, she was well and truly awake now. New shirt now acquired and covering herself she returned to the main room, Carrillo now vacant from the space and probably in his office working. She snatched up the tv remote and flicked through the channels, settling on an old war movie before curling onto her side to relax.
She woke hours later, the movie long since ended and the daylight now darkness. A blanket had been draped over her in her sleep and her dinner was sitting on the coffee table with a glass of water and her medication beside it. She would forever be grateful for the subtle ways the Colonel looked after her, even if he would never admit to it. She at least knew he cared enough for his team that he’d go out of his way to make her feel comfortable and like she belonged, even if she was new to the force.
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Aside from the incident in the kitchen the rest of the week went pretty smooth. They’d developed some semblance of a rhythm. Both woke early, whoever made it to the kitchen first put the pot of coffee on and poured a cup for the both of them, conveniently they preferred their coffee the same way. Black with no milk or sugar. Then they usually sat at the kitchen counter to eat breakfast, cereal for Ash and whatever Carrillo cooked himself for breakfast, Ash really wasn’t one for a big meal in the mornings. After breakfast the Colonel usually disappeared into his office to work and the younger officer would clean up their dishes and then hog the shower for as long as possible, soaking in the opportunity to have a warm shower all to herself without limits. Ash would spend most of the day watching tv or reading one of the many military inspired books that occupied the wall mounted shelves on either side of the tv.
Carrillo would emerge from his office around sixteen hundred hours each day, and proceed to cook dinner for the both of them. Ash had tried once but burnt the steak and been deemed too inexperienced and untrustworthy in the kitchen, something she was silently glad for cause the Colonel was a better cook than she ever could’ve hoped. Again Ash did the clean up, a fair trade off for not cooking, while Carrillo once again disappeared, this time to the gym or for a run around the perimeter of the property along the treeline, a sight Ash loved to enjoy. Only twice he had stayed to converse or silently watch the news beside her. Then like clockwork they would bid each other goodnight and retire to their rooms.
Everything was going perfect, the routine now something established and easy to work through, even if Ash did complain about being on couch/bed rest until either the medics cleared her or the Colonel deemed her fit enough to begin easing her way into training. It wasn’t until the Wednesday of their second week together that something changed between them, something Ash looked back on with a smile on her face and made Carrillo have conflicted feelings and wish he had just stuck to their schedule they had so easily adapted to around each other.