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

[rodders]

Rodimus turns it over in his hands again, as if he's testing the weight of it. "He deserves it," is his response. I never should have taken it away from him goes unsaid, even if that hasn't happened to Drift yet. Is he trying to make up for his sins by preemptively atoning for them? Maybe. But he also wanted to do something for Drift that would help when everything else he'd attempted had fallen short.

He at least has the good sense to look sheepish when Ratchet snaps at him, fingers curling around the badge. "Thanks. For uh, cannibalizing your own limb for him." A pause. "Well now it just sounds gross," and he makes a face to match. Confusion settles in after, as he's still digesting the fact that Ratchet made him an Autobot badge. It doesn't fit, there's something off.

"But why? You made your feelings about me clear."

He distinctly remembers that particular conversation.

[asafepairofhands]

"I know he deserves it," Ratchet says, watching Rodimus' face. "It means something to me that you think so too."

He taps a delicate sculpting tool gently against the surface of the desk he's standing near, as close as he gets to fidgeting, before what Rodimus is actually getting at occurs to him.

"Are you talking about the vote?" he asks, his optics narrowing. "Rodimus--the fact that I voted against you remaining captain doesn't mean I don't think you deserve to wear your badge. I'm angry with you for lying to the crew and letting Drift be punished for it. I figured if you stepped down they'd make your second captain, and you and I both know Magnus would be good at it, even if Magnus doesn't, and it would have been a good opportunity to let Magnus prove it. And--" He stops, actually falters for a moment before he puts the tool down and presses his hands flat to the table, letting it take some of the weight off his crutches and his aching good leg.

"I saw how you were, after Red. Magnus practically had to pry you off of First Aid. You took it personally. You can't--" He stops, huffs out a warm gust of air from his vents and attempts to order his thoughts. "You're a reckless self-indulgent thrill-seeking short-sighted basketcase, but I'm not stupid enough to think that means you don't care. And that's important, but you're going to burn yourself out if you keep that up the way you're doing, all right?" His hands curl in, tight enough that his welded, socket-locked wrists ache. "I know. I was mad at you because I thought you made some bad decisions as captain, but I worry that command isn't good for you, either, if it's going to keep tearing you up like that."

He shakes his head, his lips thinning. "It wasn't because I hated you, for goodness' sake. Is that what you thought this whole time?"

[rodders]

Oh. That's probably the nicest thing Rodimus has ever heard Ratchet say about him, mixed in with all the judgement and kicks about his life choices. Rodimus attempts to work his mouth to say something, can't, shuts it. A long pause as he watches Ratchet before opening his mouth again.

"Er. Yes?"

Everything else is too much for him to process, although he thinks basketcase is a bit of a stretch.

[asafepairofhands]

"Rodimus," Ratchet huffs, sounding entirely exasperated. "I'm upset with you. I don't hate you. They aren't automatically the same thing." He rubs hard at his forehelm.

"It was completely unfair, to send Drift away the way you did. Especially since you were partly responsible for--well, for having him on board, if not for... everything else. But I know you know it, and I know you miss him." He rubs at the back of his neck, now, looking away from Rodimus' face. "And the fact that you'd go so far as to give up your badge to make sure Drift has one, even if he doesn't remember everything yet--that means something, all right? You deserve one of your own, as far as I'm concerned."

[rodders]

Rodimus flips the badge over in his hands, focusing on that instead of Ratchet. The guilt lies heavy in him, and he wants to protest that he didn't want to. That he was going to come clean to everyone until Drift told him not to and he'd listened and he didn't protest as his best friend took the fall for him. Not for him. For everyone else. But he doesn't think protesting is what he wants to do. Not really.

"I didn't stop him," his voice is tight and pained, because Rodimus hates thinking about his last private conversation with Drift. "When I announced the investigation I was gonna come clean. But Drift, he said that's why he was there. To be the fall guy." If it's possible to curl in on oneself while standing, Rodimus is doing a damned good job of it. "I told him it was stupid, that he was being stupid. But he insisted and I didn't stop him, Ratchet."

He doesn't like feeling vulnerable, doesn't like the way it sits on him or the way it feels on his face when he looks up at Ratchet. Finally telling it after months of replaying it over and over in his head doesn't make him feel any better either, instead he just looks more miserable.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet stares at Rodimus for a long moment before he curses softly and looks away, his face set in a scowl.

"That idiot," he mutters, but there's more pain than rancor in his voice and he leans hard on a crutch to press a palm over his face for a moment, scrubbing hard before he drops his hand again.

"Should've guessed," he says. "Of course he's do something stupid like that. He's stubborn--not surprised you couldn't talk him out of it. He tried to face Overlord on his own, y'know, tried to make me lock myself in the medibay before everyone else showed up." He shakes his head, his face twisting, and he has to turn away, his whole chassis aching, throat constricted for a long moment before he shakes it off.

"I'm leaving," he says shortly, his optics on Rodimus' face. "It's the last thing I remember, before I was dumped here, settling in at the shuttle. I talked to some people, turned the title of CMO over to First Aid--I don't think he knows yet, so don't mention it to him please--queued up the signal for Drift's shuttle to track it and was about to take off. He deserves to know he can come home, no matter why he left."

[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?