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

[asafepairofhands]

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.

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

"Well." Ratchet settles into his crutches and lets his expression relax, looking almost fond. "Glad to know I don't have to worry so much now. I'm used to being perpetually understaffed--this is a nice change."

[academybot]

"Look I only got a summary, Optimus was the one who mentioned the thing about spiritual guidance. And if it's all the same to you, I intend on avoiding Sentinel as long as possible." On the list of things he would possibly talk to Sentinel about, being a prime was the very bottom.

"I'm sure that's true, I just don't want everyone assuming I can do everything he can just because we share a name." He said, crossing his arms.

[optout]

"It's good that you found something, though. It means that there's probably more out there, and thus, more information." He mulls this over as he walks in, thumb pressed against his faceplate in thought. "We should consider scouting teams every once in awhile to get a lay of the land, find out what we're dealing with."

...

"This planet has a history, and we should study it to try not to make it's mistakes."

A hand goes out to the medic's shoulder though, eyes sparkling. "Next time, let Megatron know when your medical team goes out. I think you gave him a scare."

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet stares up at Ironhide, torn between indignation and the knowledge that he can't withstand that particular look on Ironhide's face for long.

"...all right," he finally says, wearily. "I'll go. But only to help supervise."

[asafepairofhands]

"Yeah, I believe it," Ratchet says, his voice extremely dry as he picks up another chair, but he looks curious. "What kind of bet?"

[asafepairofhands]

"We were only supposed to be gone for ten minutes," Ratchet huffs. "And, they're not my medical team, not here. Red Alert set up this clinic, not me."

Ratchet eases under Optimus' broad, steady palm, though, watching what little is visible of his face.

"Looking out for him, are you?" Ratchet asks, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "Conscientious of you."

[optout]

"They are as much hers as they are yours, and as you are First Aid's," you can almost hear the smirk behind that faceplate. "But know you were all missed."

Although Ratchet's comment makes his ears flick slightly, eyes widening..almost...bashfully.

"I only want to guide him. What you're doing for him is what he should have gotten millions of years ago."

[arnhaid]

There's no disguising the relief on Ironhide's face. He's smiling broadly, now. And both arms loop around Ratchet's shoulders.

Hang onto your robo panties, Ratchet, you're getting a hug.

"Thanks." There's so much gratitude in one word, it's a little overwhelming. "I knew I could count on you. Always could."

[triggerhappycopter]

"If I manage to fix up your leg up 'properly', you're going to walk around with my name painted allll over it in big bold n' purple- and I get one of your working soldering guns with all the head modifiers for a month."

Setting the last table upright, Spinister turns to look at Ratchet, crossing his arms. "If I can't, I take it apart and do whatever the heck kind of drudge work you've got to do around here. For a month."

[asafepairofhands]

"I'm not painting anything anywhere," Ratchet says stubbornly, before he... almost softens, rearranging tools on a tray. "But trading tools and labor... that could be arranged. You know--" Ratchet almost hesitates, but presses on. "Y'know, this medibay in particular--it's for everybody. Almost everybody. You're welcome to come in and use tools if you need them." He tilts his chin up at Spinister.

"Megatron spoke highly of you, after we got back. He was grateful for your help. We would be, too, if you ever wanted to drop by and lend a hand."

[asafepairofhands]

"Oof--"

Ratchet wheezes a little, but leans into it.

"'Course, Ironhide. Of course you can. ...it's just a dance, anyway. How bad can it be, right?"

[asafepairofhands]

"...mmm," Ratchet says, looking away, his expression thoughtful. "I agree. That he should have had it earlier. Nothing we can do about it now--not besides this, I guess. Just."

He shrugs, not sure how to disguise just how much he does like his youngest recruit, how surprised he is by that fondness, how odd he feels about concealing at all. He huffs a gust of air from his vents and shakes his head.

"He's good at his job, and he asked. Stupid to turn down help when we need it so badly."

[optout]

If there's one thing that Optimus can read about Ratchet, it's when he genuinely likes someone. Thankfully, though, it's not something Optimus will say outright. But it's nice to see him taking to Megatron. He'd be lying if he didn't feel the same about the miner. Something he'd always liked about him, even back then.

Not all things change.

"Watch over him for me, Ratchet. I know you will do so yourself, but...extra from me."

...

"I want the best for him."

[smallandincharge]

"Well... both, really," Ultra Magnus admits. "Did he renounce Decepticonism, then? I suppose there is... some precedent for that sort of thing." Her face darkens.

[arnhaid]

He's not going to let go any time soon. He's just going to hold on for as long as he can.

Something he can count on in this crazy place.

"It won't be bad. You an' me are gonna make sure of it."

[aminerproblem]

There's an warmth in his eyes that has been absent for a long time since his last night on Messatine,"The clinic is turning out to be quite something from where it started, isn't it?"

He gives one of the doctor's shoulders a gentle squeeze,"No sense in having our resources split down faction lines."

[asafepairofhands]

"Yeah, it's shaping up. I've sure as hell worked in worse."

Ratchet manages a crooked smile up at Megatron, watching that warmth in his face.

"I've certainly had worse colleagues."

[asafepairofhands]

"...yeah," Ratchet says, a sort of grudging warmth filtering into his voice. "He's a good kid. And somebody has to. Guess I'm it."

He doesn't sound terribly upset by this.

[asafepairofhands]

"He was a garbage Decepticon in the first place, apparently." Ratchet shrugs. "He only joined up to be able to acquire materials to build the time machine. Once it was done, he was fine with breaking it off. Though, if you don't remember the hearing, I suppose you don't--hmmm."

Ratchet watches Magnus' face for a long, considering moment before his optics almost soften slightly.

"How do you feel?" His optics light. "And it's not supposed to be a trick question, for the record."

[smallandincharge]

Magnus probably wouldn't have thought it was a trick question if Ratchet hadn't brought it up. As is, she gives him a sidelong glance through slightly narrowed eyes, and replies, a little curtly, "Fine. Perfectly adequate. Fully functional. Why do you ask?"

[auramatic]

"Maybe not yet," Drift says, unwisely, but he at least has the sense to move on from there, the light of curiosity coming into his optics. "What do you mean? What's down there? Who sent the distress signal?"

[rodders]

That's so incredibly Drift it makes Rodimus smile, no matter how horrifying the fact that Drift was going to take on Overlord one on one is. He'd lost - thought he lost - one important person to Overlord, he's glad Drift didn't join Magnus. At least exile means he could see him again.

Speaking of - Rodimus looks floored, then shocked, then incredibly pleased but still confused and shocked all at once. It's a miracle his face is still capable of making expressions with the abuse he puts it through, honestly. "Really, you're going after him? He's going to come back?" He wants to say thank you, but doesn't think Ratchet would appreciate that. So instead he just looks dumbly at Ratchet, numb to everything except the idea that Drift won't be left alone in the universe anymore.

"Ratchet, I--"

Yeah, what do you say to that?

[triggerhappycopter]

The cockiness fades somewhat from Spinister's stance replaced by something a little more awkward. He rubs the back of his head and shrugs stiffly.

"It's a bit weird working in a place where everyone is an Autobot." The heli pauses, twiddling his thumbs for a moment.

"And by weird, I mean I think everyone's going to turn on me and shoot me in the back, sssooooo, I think I'm happy just... not? You know?"

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet snorts a laugh, but it's kind. He shakes his helm.

"Yeah, all right. Fair enough. Offer's open if you ever feel different, though. And, for the record--" He looks up, fixing Spinister with a piercing stare. "--if you need supplies and they aren't going to fixing up Pharma or Tarn or someone else hell-bent on causing a ruckus, you're welcome to them. All you have to do is come in and ask."

[triggerhappycopter]

"... That's a bit hard since I live with Tarn," Spinister shrugs, tapping his index fingers together nervously. "Haven't had to fix Pharma up yet, but I think I'm kind of obligated to if he ever comes limping in for a fix-up since I think Tarn's trying to court him or something."