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

[planate]

It's been a while and several near-buried in rocks experiences since Pipes had last been to the medibay, he decides it's time to have a check up. It would have to happen eventually, he might as well minimize the yelling while he can.

He wanders in, assuming he didn't have to call and make an appointment. Seeing Ratchet is good, seeing him missing a leg, not so much.

"Is it, like, a new medic trend to be missing a limb or something?" he states, half wondering who would be stupid enough to try and kill the only medics either present or willing to work on anyone.

[wreckers]

Verity wandered - sticking her nose evenwhere it could hurt was what she did, afterall. Urban exploration of the bare skeleton that looked like it used to be a pretty important Cybertronian city was also a great time killer when the only thing on the airwaves was post-war ancient aliens reduced cat fighting. The clinic was an easy find; the red and white deco seemed literally universal.

"Jesus," Verity stood in the massive doorway, the helmet speakers doing nothing to mask her shock, "Ratchet?"

[asafepairofhands]

"Hello, Pipes," Ratchet says, only sounding mild-to-moderately annoyed. "Yeah, Tarn started the trend and Pharma apparently picked it right up. Please steer clear of them as much as possible." He carefully does not look at the mangled remains at his leg lying on one of the tables, wires stripped and plating peeled up. His optics narrow, refocusing.

"Everything all right?"

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet turns, staring right back at the small figure in the doorway, trying to place that voice... His whole face lights like a torch when he does, making him look strangely younger.

"Verity?" he asks, a half-laugh thrumming in his voice as he takes a firmer grip on his crutches and managed a limping step forward, cocking his head. "Is that you? What the hell are you doing here?"

[planate]

"Oh, I-- hadn't even realised Pharma was here. Guess I'm doing something right, then."

He forces an awkward, stilted laugh. Of course, Pipes doesn't know the history between Ratchet and Pharma but he does remember Pharma making that disease that made him really sick. What a jerk.

"Mostly? I think I swallowed a rock. Somehow." By not learning his lesson about not exploring precarious debris. "We really need a giant vacuum or something," he says, not so subtly looking right at The Leg.

[wreckers]

"Standing on two legs wondering the same thing." Verity chided as she hurriedly released the seal on her helmet and tore it off.

Under that helmet was where the last five years showed the marks they left behind and the physical reminder of how finite humans were. Older with all those baby teeth gone from her brief smile that crinkled her dark eyes wreathed in darker circles. It had...well, it had been a long time without a hello let alone a goodbye between them. A shoddy track record with farewells having been something of a commonality.

"The hell happened to you?" Helmet under her arm, Verity showed herself in with her free hand held up signaling Ratchet to sit his rickety ass back down.

[asafepairofhands]

"Decepticon Justice Division," Ratchet says, almost carelessly, completely ignoring her direction to sit down. "Mech's name is 'Tarn,' I'd steer clear of him if I were you. He came in looking for spare parts and a surgeon and I told him to shove it up his tailpipe. He wasn't overjoyed."

He shakes his head a little. "Anyway, I'm fine, don't worry about it. It's good to see you. In person, anyway--Magnus has been using you as a holomatter avatar. Have you two caught up yet?"

[asafepairofhands]

"I'm almost impressed," Ratchet grouses, stumping forward and knocking lightly at Pipes with his crutches to scoot him out of the way as he goes to push around in the scattered, dented, motley assortment of equipment they've managed to cobble together. "Yeah, he's been making himself scarce ever since he sawed First Aid's arm off, so good for him." He eyes Pipes, lips compressing. "I'm tempted to get Megatron to take you by the ankles and shake you until it comes rattling out of your intake, spare everyone else the trouble."

[planate]

That gets a small squeak out of him. "I'm as impressed and slash or annoyed that I managed to do it, too, but getting Megatron involved is a bit much, don't you think?"

Someone, please tell him about baby Megatron's medic training.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet watches Pipes' face for a moment, before he snorts softly.

"Not the Megatron from our time. There's one here--he's from the past, before... well, pretty much anything happened. He's been training here since a little after I arrived."

[planate]

"Would that be a very special Ratchet-only skill set he'd never learn from anyone else?" he asks, cocking his head.

Not touching the fact that it's MEGATRON in general, but Pipes figures if Ratchet trusts him then sure whatever why not. Not to mention Sixshot didn't murder him... maybe this is an alternate dimension where Decepticons aren't as homicidal.

[arnhaid]

Well, someone had come down here to ask about said upcoming festivities. Because hey, he missed the medic. A lot. And he figured Optimus would agree -- agree and be happy to see him too. It stood to reason, therefore, to go in and make sure Ratchet was still functional...

And coerce him into coming out to be social.

Except as soon as he steps inside, there are more pressing concerns. Especially when he sees the other bot working. Working without part of his leg.

Needless to say, the big red bot stomps over, intending to put his arms under his friend's shoulders and pick him up. There's a chair not two feet away he figures will work.

"Siddown."

[officerjuicebox]

Oh, of course it'd happen. Of course, of all the stupid things, he'd pop a finger out of joint trying to fix a terminal in the building he'd taken up residence in. It was nothing major. Really, Roller just intended to patch it up himself. Borrow a couple tools and be on his way.

But as he steps inside, he's promptly smacked in the face with the sight of another familiar face.

"... Ratchet?"

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet shrugs a little.

"Just on-the-job field training, same as any new medic gets. First Aid's been helping out. He's all right, Pipes--honestly. I wouldn't let him hang around if he wasn't. All right?" Ratchet takes a hand off one crutch and squeezes Pipes' shoulder briefly before one corner of his mouth quirks up. "Even if I do have him shake you by your ankles to get rid of a rock you 'mysteriously' somehow swallowed."

[planate]

"I do trust your judgement, you know. It's just... weird to think of him as a medic, I guess. Even before the whole. War. Thing."

He snorts at the rock comment, though. "It was quite a feat without a mouth, lemme tell you!"

[rodders]

Yeah, okay. He's suspicious as hell the moment he gets that message. He's been avoiding Ratchet to the best of his abilities since Drift was up and walking; that's no different than how it was on the Lost Light. Why ruin a good thing they've got going?

But he also knows that Ratchet's going to find him whether or not he shows up and the least he can do is show up when he's called for. So cautiously poking his head around the door of the medibay, looking into the dark depths in an attempt to spot Ratchet but also to avoid Megatron. He's cool. He's got this.

"Ratchet?"

[triggerhappycopter]

There is a silent whoosh of displaced air and a sudden, vaguely ominous, presence behind Ratchet.

"Is this," a very quiet voice whispers, "your leg?"

[wreckers]

"Yeah, Garrus-9 was a tip off from the DJD deep ops informant," Verity said distantly, recounting something from years ago as she pulled herself up on to a counter; legs swinging idly over the edge, "Shit if Megatron's personal kill squad is here..."

Verity looked tired out of the blue at the mention of Magnus. One memory dragging her into another.

"No, I've been...keeping low." Insulated way of saying 'avoiding' the smile that played on her face when Ratchet mentioned the holo avatar was coy. Man, Magnus when did you get sentimental. "Been busy back on Earth."

[academybot]

Some time after the medics had reappeared Optimus came into the medibay with a box of supplies he'd stumbled upon while clearing some debris earlier. Far as he could tell it was basically the main repository of supplies, and if they didn't need them here someone would probably know what to do with them. He could probably have brought them by sooner, but he still wasn't really keen on the idea of a medibay full of decepticons.

He was glad to see someone was there when he showed up, an actual autobot medic judging by the paint job. Though considering he was missing a limb...

"I'm no medibot, but shouldn't you be taking it easy with that injury?" he asked with some concern, standing in the doorway with his package.

[asafepairofhands]

"Yeah, tell me about it," Ratchet says, eyeing Pipes ruefully. "I can try to bring it up with a surgical tractor, too, but this isn't going to be fun no matter how we fix it, I'm warning you."

[asafepairofhands]

"'Keeping low,' huh? That's new," Ratchet says, his optics glittering as he watches her face. His own falls a little when hers does, and he stumps over to where she's sitting, settling into his crutches a little. "Tarn's been... handled. Sort of. I wasn't the worst injured, at any rate. But it's just him here, nobody else." He shifts, looking curious.

"Yeah? Hope you haven't had as interesting a time as I have. ...you doing all right?"

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet catches Ironhide's forward charge just in time, lifting one of his crutches to press it to Ironhide's chest before Ironhide can grab him.

"I'm fine," he says irritably. "Nice to see you too, Ironhide."

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet starts, staring a little, his optics widening helplessly.

"Roller," he says, almost numbly, and barely manages to close his teeth on anything else. He has no idea when Roller is from, and it only takes him a second to get his bearings, shifting on his crutches slightly. "It's... been a while."

[planate]

"I thought as much," he shrugs. "I really expected it to be..."

He inhales. Pauses for dramatic effect.

"A rocky experience. I'll be more careful next time, I don't want to take your services for granite. Hopefully we can end this with a clean slate to avoid rock bottom. I promise I did not ingest a rock just to make puns."

GUNFINGERS.

[asafepairofhands]

"Hey. Come in here."

Ratchet waits until Rodimus inches into the room and turns away from his workbench, sizing up Rodimus... breastplate?

"Yeah," he says after a moment, turning back and picking something up next to the peeled and stripped remains of his leg. A large chunk of red plating seems to be missing. He holds something the same shade out to Rodimus, leaning into his crutch and watching Rodimus' face--it's an Autobot badge, the metal carefully folded and pressed.

"This looks about the right size. I had to estimate a little. Here."