robothell | you know you are as small as the things you let annoy you {backdated before robot prom}

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ratchet | asafepairofhands

you know you are as small as the things you let annoy you {backdated before robot prom}

It's a little while after Sixshot has dug all of the medics up from whatever underground art bunker they had been briefly trapped in, miraculously without anyone killing each other, and Ratchet is back in the medibay at work. He is still half-legless and especially foul-tempered, especially considering the upcoming festivities, which he plans to avoid as completely as possible.

COME BOTHER HIM

[CLOSED TO RODIMUS]
It's not long after the medics are back that Ratchet sends a message to Rodimus privately, apropos of what seems like nothing.

Come to the medibay. I need to check something.

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Ratchet barely tenses, jerking his chin over to one of the side tables, piled with spare parts. Including what's left of his missing limb.

"That, there? Yeah. Why?"

"My face must look godawful if you're asking after me." She smiles wryly and motions with a curt nod to Ratchet's want of a second leg.

With an almost hunted look in her eye, Verity looked around the clinic - for a security camera, a CNA droid. Anything that could overhear them. She seemed content enough after a tense moment to keep talking.

"When I got back Earth I, uh, kept at the whole keeping Cybertron business under wraps thing." She squared her shoulders, looking as tense as tripwire, "Magnus must have been rubbing off on me. Stupid shit...wet work cleaning up facsimiles the 'Cons left behind, sabotage. That sort of thing."

Confused is the expression that first crosses over Rodimus' face as he accepts the badge - something hurt and vulnerable lurking in the back of his optics as he inspects it. It's... he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't expect someone like Ratchet to make him a new one, let alone care that his was missing in the first place. Everyone knows he's an autobot - he doesn't need a badge for that.

"For me?" Yep, still confused. And then: "Did you make this from your leg?"

"You're right, you're no medibot," Ratchet mutters before he takes a firmer grip on his crutches and turns, his optics widening a little when he sees Optimus, then the box in his hands.

"I'm fine. Doesn't hurt." His optics narrow a little--the mech in the doorway looks familiar... "Can I help you with something?"

Spinister abruptly reappears next to the table and snatches it up.

"I'm just going to borrow it for a while bye now."

"I'm fine," Ratchet says, his tone turning a little steely before he reaches out, settling a hand on the table next to Verity but not quite touching her. "Should've known you wouldn't just sit quietly. I ended up leaving home, joining up with a ship on some ridiculous quest. I don't know, a lot's happened."

He catches that look on her face, though, and his voice gentles a little, his thumb shifting to touch her shoulder briefly.

"You're safe here, though. All right? As much as you can be anywhere in this place."

"No, I called you here to give it to some other Autobot wandering around without a badge," Ratchet says, exaggeratedly patient until he abruptly loses the steam for it and drops his hands back to his crutches, leaning on them a little harder as the sarcasm slides from his voice. "You gave yours to Drift. ...it meant a lot to him. You should have one."

He stiffens slightly. "And it's not like we have a lot of spare plating lying around," he snaps. "It's stripped internally anyway--I needed most of the wiring to rebuild Drift's vocalizer." Whoops, he hadn't really meant to mention that. "It's no good to anybody as it is--might as well make use of it. Look--whatever. Wear it or don't, I don't care. But I figured you should at least have the option."

"Excuse me," Ratchet says sharply, flipping a crutch to hold the point end and bring the upright down across Spinister's wrists. "I'm still using it. What the hell do you want with it?"

"I'm going to bring Megatron in here and let him use you as a maraca," Ratchet growls, jabbing at Pipes with one of his crutches. "Do you want my help or not?"

Ultra Magnus stands awkwardly in the entrance to the medibay. She wants to check in with as many of her former crewmates as she can find, and Ratchet was the easiest to locate. But now that she's here, she's not entirely sure what to say. Finally, she simply synthesizes a cough to get Ratchet's attention - which, being a Magnus cough, fills the room with noise and rattles a couple of tools off of their shelves.

Ratchet manages to not jump himself out of his crutches, looking up from the tools he's cleaning and cycling his vents in a sigh before he slowly limps out from behind the desk he was standing at, trying not to look sheepish.

"Magnus," he says, tipping his head. "Good to see you."

The smack of the crutch across his wrists startles Spinister so badly that he launches himself halfway across the clinic with a thoroughly undignified yowl. There's a deafening crash as smacks over a few medical berths and flails uselessly for a bit.

Eventually, the heli calms down enough that he takes to hiding (with surprising success for a mech as big as he was) behind said pile of flipped berths instead.

"For reasons." He makes a hissing noise of displeasure, glowering at Ratchet. "And things."

After a few more seconds, he adds, "Also, you're not symmetrical and it kind of bothers me."

"Ratchet," Magnus replies. "It's good to see you too. Sorry for startling you, I just, uh..." She trails off, awkwardly.

"You don't sleep here, do you?"

Because it kind of looks like you do. Hey, Ratchet, it's your old pal Drift, sticking his head into the medibay to check in and say hi. It's been a little while, Drift likes to keep up. Especially knowing that by Ratchet's time, they're actually friends now.

Something seems to have changed in Drift since they last spoke -- since he and Rodimus first kissed, not so long ago. There's a little more spark in him, animated by warmth and fondness. He glances at Ratchet's leg and frowns slightly before looking back to Ratchet. "If you need help finding someplace to stay, you can just tell me."

"Don't worry about it," Ratchet says. "Sorry, I, uh. Was indisposed for a while." That's a polite way to say 'I fell down a hole with the rest of the medics.' "When did you get here?"

"Yeah, you're going to have to be more specific before I just let you take supplies from my medibay," Ratchet snaps, scooping up his leg and dumping it back onto the table. "And, if you want to complain, take it to Tarn. You're helping him, aren't you? He's the one who sawed it off in the first damn place."

"Sorry." He took the irritated comment in stride. It was actually reassuringly familiar, and Optimus had to a blink a few times in surprise when the medic turned around and the resemblance became even more uncanny.

He holds up the box as an attempted peace offering.

"I found some supplies that might be useful, and thought I'd bring it by here to see if you need anything. I can just put it down somewhere if you're busy."

"What's it to you if I do?" Ratchet says, but it's almost amicable sniping, no heat in it at all. "Some of us actually have work to do, you know."

His optics linger on Drift's badge, warming a little before they move to Drift's face.

"What brings you here? Besides unsolicited complaining about my living situation, or lack thereof."

"Nah--don't worry about it. I'm just tired of people telling me to sit around, like it's going to magically regrow my leg. I'd rather be busy."

Ratchet jerks his chin at a table between them and stumps over.

"I'm not busy. Set it there and I'll take a look." One corner of his mouth pulls up a little. "And maybe you can tell me your name. I haven't seen you around before."

The words make Spinister stand up, armor plates bristling angrily.

"I won't fix it then," he growls and storms off.

A minute or so later however, he returns to tidy up the pile of medical berths, rotors set ramrod straight and radiating resentfulness.

"That's a crock of shit and we both know it." Verity did not specify on if she had called out Ratchet's assertion that he was alright, or that she was safe. The only implication that it was the latter was that she had the presence of mind to look a tab bit guilty when she brushed his attempts at comfort off.

"Ambus," She piped up after a drawn out silence, "Magnus taught me all there was to know about the Ambus test back when we still talked - when I had too many questions."

Bottom lip sucked between her teeth she blew air through her nose trying to stamp out some recent recollection of what she had been doing back on Earth. "That's how I've been finding facsimiles...anything to keep the Decepticons from getting the upper hand, right?"

Wreck n' Rule - it was a lifelong commitment. What she found on Earth made one thing abundantly clear - there was no such thing as 'safe.'

"Quest sounds so PG - what's this about?"

Meanwhile, Ironhide looks down at that crutch butting against his chest as if it has, somehow, personally offended him by existing. And maybe it has. He bats at it.

"You've got half a leg and you're tryin' to get me to believe you're fine? That's like --"

He scowls.

"That's my kinda line. Not yours."

"... Yeah. If what Pax--Prime said is about where you're coming from."

Literally and figuratively.

He takes a few cautious steps forward, moving lightly for a big guy, and holding a hand out to try and steady the other bot. "Sorry, I didn't think anybody was in here. I um."

Pause. Cycle air.

"Hey. Again."

Ratchet stares after him, then stares harder as he stomps back in to right the things he knocked over. After a moment, Ratchet limps closer and tucks both crutches under one arm so he can help, righting a stool not too close to Spinister.

"Why would you want to fix it in the first place?" he asks, would-be casually as he scoops a handful of tools off the floor.

"Yeah." Ratchet shakes off his surprise and manages something like a smile up at Roller, his mouth crooked. "I'm all right, promise. Doesn't hurt or anything, I'm just stuck in root mode until I get it fixed. You been all right here?"

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you know you are as small as the things you let annoy you {backdated before robot prom}

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shepard. wrex. shepard. wrex. shepard. wrex. shepard. wr

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