N/A: This War of Mine Human AU, Ramsay/Wheeler (Ratchet/Wheeljack), with Ulysses (Ultra Magnus) and Sam (Smokescreen).
If you're unfamiliar with the set up of my TFP human AU, basically, Ramsay and Wheeler are married, Ulysses and Sam were in the army together and had an affair which resulted in Sam getting kicked out when they got caught. Ulysses is still sort of in love with his best friend Ramsay though and there is still tension between him and Sam.
And if you're unfamiliar with This War of Mine, it's a really awesome game that's basically like The Sims but your country is at war and you control a group of survivors who have unique stats and skills. By day you have to stay inside and try to make your shelter safer, build beds, cook food, take care of everybody, etc. You can't leave because there are snipers. At night you send someone to scavenge for supplies, food, medicine, bandages, etc. You can even get raided and have a bunch of stuff stolen. Characters can get killed, get sick and die, starve, run away—It's a really, really addicting (and sad! ;c) game, and I highly recommend it. It was so engaging that I couldn't help but want to apply it to my human AU and see what happened. Just a little ficlet. Maybe more to come.
SURVIVORS:
Ramsay: Coffee-drinker. Doctor. Can make bandages and medicine, and if there's an emergency, he can find a way to fix someone up. Hopefully. 8 pockets.
Wheeler: Smoker. Mechanic. Can make weapons, if they can find the resources. Good at bartering. 10 pockets.
Ulysses: Trained in combat. He's usually the one fighting raiders off and carrying large amounts of wood home. 15 pockets.
Sam "Smokey": Fast but quiet runner. On desperate nights, he straps a helmet on and scavenges in dangerous places. 8 pockets.
When tiny yellow shards of light started to come through the boards on the windows, he knew the sun was mostly up.
Ramsay looked at his watch anyway, stomach knotting to match his tight expression. He almost always volunteered for night watch when it was Wheeler's turn to scavenge. He could never sleep, he was too paranoid. They had been lucky so far. Blessed, even, to have avoided snipers and militia for this long. Most of the neighbors had disappeared and the family of four two houses down had relocated when their mother didn't return one morning.
That was a week ago. They already cleared that house of anything useful. Wheeler had tearfully asked if they could bury the dog he found downstairs and to everyone's surprise, Ulysses said yes.
"How many other pets ended up like that? And now they're sayin' some people are eating them, " Wheeler had ranted the next morning while he struggled to get the filter into the rain water collector.
The answer was most of them and Ramsay knew for a fact pets were being eaten in some parts of the city. He didn't tell his partner that someone had tried to trade him a chinchilla for moonshine.
Ramsay closed his eyes and sat very still, trying to tell himself in a million different ways that Wheeler was going to make it home okay.
The sound of wood creaking made him open his eyes, and there was Ulysses looking like he'd had a rough time sleeping again.
"Sunrise," was all he said before he tried to stifle a yawn.
Ramsay snorted. "You look terrible. Go back to bed."
Nothing got past Ulysses when it came to his friend. "If I'm not worried about that imbecile then you shouldn't be either."
"I'm—not worried. I'm waiting."
He stared back defiantly at that knowing look.
"Then go wait in bed," Ulysses said after another yawn, nudging Ramsay to get him out of the chair.
With a dramatic eye-roll, he gave in and forced himself up. He silently dared Ulysses to comment on how loudly his knees cracked before exiting the room and climbing down the ladder.
Sam was sitting up on one of the mattresses staring at nothing like a kid who had the early schedule at school and was dead inside.
"Is the sun really up?" he asked, stretching his legs.
"Yes," Ramsay said as he sat on the other makeshift bed. "There should still be enough coffee for the both of you."
He got a sleepy thumbs-up and sighed when he was finally alone.
Wheeler will be back soon, he told himself for the hundredth time.
"Hey! Back off, I saw those first!"
"Whoa, relax. There's a whole crate here, there's enough for everybody."
"Bullshit, like you weren't going to take them all."
"Come on, man. I'm out here just trying to find shit like you are. Don't point that thing at me. Ya wanna split it?"
"Do I look stupid to you?"
"What, you want me to add on a blowjob or somethin'?"
Silence.
"I'm kiddin', I'm married. See this ring? And no, ya can't have it. Here, look. I've got booze. Real booze. Does that work?"
Ramsay thought his watch had finally gone haywire when he woke up past noon. He heard rain.
Where's Wheeler?
He bolted from the bed to the ladder—just as he heard a commotion upstairs. And the sound of a voice that immediately relaxed his stomach.
But still. Noon was late to get home from scavenging.
The doctor ignored the pain in his chest as he climbed up, and everyone's voices became clearer.
"Smokes, look what I got ya," he heard Wheeler say.
"Shit! Where did you find Chef Boyardee?"
"Told ya I'm a better scavenger."
The three of them looked over when they heard Ramsay in the doorway.
"Hey, Sunshine!" Wheeler greeted happily, hair dripping a little.
His smile immediately faded when Ramsay crossed his arms over his chest. Ulysses was quick to catch it, tugging Sam by his arm to lead him out of the room. He'd learned long ago to give these two their space.
"I know, I'm sorry—"
"Why are you so late? Did you get held up? You're all wet." Ramsay cut him off calmly, his first concern being whether or not his partner was hurt. He looked him up and down and thankfully didn't see any sign of injury. But if he'd been in the rain for long, he could get a chill.
Wheeler shook his head as he rummaged around in his bulging backpack. He'd apparently gotten a really good haul. "The morning snuck up on me, that's all. And it was just a random little shower. Wish I coulda snapped a pic of the rainbow by the park. Here."
He held out a handful of travel-sized homeopathic brand name mouthwashes. All factory-sealed and fresh. Ramsay's favorite flavor.
Ramsay stared at them and his mouth turned into a thin line the way it did. There was only one place he'd still be able to find goodies like that, and last time they'd sent Sam there, they had to calm him down after he saw a teenaged girl get shot in the head by a sniper.
"Wheeler..." Ramsay's voice was barely above a whisper. "You can't be so risky."
"I was passin' by anyway... Figured why not see what I could find. You love this crazy cinnamon neem stuff, dontcha Doc?"
Ramsay couldn't contain himself anymore and pulled Wheeler close. He took a deep breath, the smell of mud and rain and gunpowder filling him to the brim.
Wheeler let himself be held, and patted Ramsay's back a little.
"I'm okay, babe... Nothing's gonna happen to me. I'm careful."
Ramsay squeezed him. "You are an idiot," he said with a little chuckle. "Thank you. I love you."
"Man, I should get fancy hippy mouthwash more often if it makes ya this sappy."
The doctor rolled his eyes and let his lover go to push him towards the ladder to the bedroom.
"Go warm up, you're going to get sick."
"Alright, alright."
Ramsay watched him go down to make sure the idiot didn't slip and hurt his foot like last time.
Another day and they were all still there.
That's reason enough to celebrate, he decided. So after a few minutes, he was back down there with a hot can of ravioli for them to share by the warmth of the heater.
In moments like these, they could almost pretend everything was okay. As far as Ramsay was concerned, with Wheeler by his side unharmed, it was.