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

[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."

[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."

[arnhaid]

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."

[asafepairofhands]

"It's patched. I'm not going to drop dead anytime soon from a missing leg." Ratchet lets the crutch swing to the floor again, settling into them and watching Ironhide with an unreadable expression. "...I'm all right. Promise. How are you doing?"

[arnhaid]

"But it ain't back on your... rest of your leg."

There's a few awkward gestures in that pause, while Ironhide tries to articulate the sheer wrongness of Ratchet being minus a limb. This is his friend. One of few who hasn't really changed on him. How can he not be concerned.

And it's probably all over his face. He has never once been good at hiding how he feels. "I don't like it," he says, finally, still looking down at the damage.

Belatedly mumbling something to the extent of "huh yeah fine I'm great."

[asafepairofhands]

"Well, I'm not throwing a big party over it either, but we've had more pressing concerns." Ratchet huffs out a short gust of air from his vents. "Ironhide, I'm fine. I'm making do. ...I got off light, honestly, considering what happened to Drift a little after."

Ratchet risks a step in again, now that Ironhide does not appear to be in immediate danger of lifting him off his... foot. He leans into a crutch to free up a hand and clasp Ironhide's upper arm, brief and warm.

"It's good to see you. I mean it."

[arnhaid]

"Yeah, but I know you..." He scrunches his face up, like he's trying to make the words come out more easily. "Nothin' against whoever that is... just."

He shrugs. He knows Ratchet. Trusts him. He's something that hasn't changed. Something he really doesn't want to lose. He's got his optics on the ground, though, up until the hand on his arm. Then he blinks, curling his own fingers under Ratchet's forearm.

"Thanks." And he means that. It comes out grateful, and his weight shifts. Like he's going to hug the other bot, but stops himself. "I'm glad you're around too."

Then he blinks. "Oh. Right. Speakin' of parties... you're goin' to one later."

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet leans in, bumping his shoulder lightly against the front of Ironhide's chassis--then draws back like a scalded cat.

"What? I most certainly am not."

[arnhaid]

"Oh yeah, you are."

One arm slides around Ratchet's shoulders as he draws back, pulling the medic against his side. There's humor in his optics, but also sincerity.

"Prime's goin'. He's gonna need good bots keepin' an optic on him -- you never know what's gonna happen at a party. And..." His other shoulder shrugs. "Not many others around here I'd ask."

If you follow his meaning -- I don't trust many others here like I do you.

"Come. Please."

[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."

[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."

[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?"

[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."