step one: stop fighting robots

[wreckers]

Who: Verity and OPENish
Where: Autobot Clinic
When: Noooow??
What: The fallout of this
Warnings: Injuries, TBD.


[ Once she shook loose from Arcee, Verity bagged out. She was not inclined to trust anyone let alone someone closely associated with Prowl, on good terms or not, but she trusted Arcee to run interference long enough for her to clear out of there. Running away happened to be one of Verity's talents and one she took immediate advantage of when the opportunity presented itself. ]

Shit - shit.

[ Burning rubber screeched on the metal floor of the clinic followed by a loud crash when a disoriented Verity slammed into a nearby steel utility table; spilling all kinds of equipment onto the floor. The clinic was dark - of course it was, everyone was off getting stupid at that party at the forum. Verity swore louder as she staggered up and waved her arm wildly in front of a motion sensor near the doorframe that brought the lights back on.

I fucked up, was all Verity could think while stumbling through the clinic wildly searching for anything that looked human friendly. ]

Enough people on this rock they should have painkillers or someth- hnng.

[ Verity stopped near a minicon sized gurney. She pulled herself up and once she was sitting felt the full force of what a little scuffle with something rip snorting pissed off and over thirty feet tall did. The plates of her armor retracted back until she was down to her clothes. Stomach rolling as she took rapid shallow breaths close to hyperventilating, pulling her shirt up to find angry red and purple bruising covering her entire right side. She cringed, looking down to see the inflamed mess that was her foot that twisted awkwardly at the ankle.

Winded, Verity collapsed on her back. Leaving her armor in pieces around her on the ground as she tried to steady her breathing. ]

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

"What the fresh, slagging hell--"

Fortunately, Ratchet had left the party (such as it was) as early as he possibly could manage without upsetting Ironhide directly. He nearly tripped over the toppled table, feeling it foul his crutches as his foot slipped on the tools, hopping free and looking absolutely livid as he looked around trying to figure out who had knocked around in the medibay kicking things over. He freezes when he catches sight of the small, limp form on the table, his expression calcifying and the bottom falling from his tanks.

"Verity," he manages, voice ragged and shaky as he limps over as fast as he can, shaking his second crutch free of the mess on the floor. "What happened--?"

[wreckers]

Ratchet shouting and knocking around the clinic comes in deluded; Verity hears it barely as though her head was half submerged in water. The pain drilling into her temples spikes then subsides when her eyes flutter open. Slowly, very slowly, she pushed herself up on her good side.

"Heey, Ratchet," Her voice cracks dry in her throat as she weakly gives Ratchet a half-wave and a wry lopsided grin, "We have to stop meeting like this."

[asafepairofhands]

"You damned, stupid--" Ratchet's vocalizer whines thin and staticky with fright as he stumps over to the side of the gurney and leans hard into his crutches to free up both hands, reaching down to cup the back of her head, his fingertips feather-light. They come away a darker red than before and his belly lurches.

"Lay back down, please," he says, his voice numb and weirdly calm now, his optics pale, pale blue. "I need to get the human kit. Move as little as possible."

[wreckers]

"Reckless kid." Verity supplies weakly, arm waving him off before it weakly flops back down on the gurney along with the rest of her. She hisses sharply through her teeth when she does because robot gurneys were in want of padding.

"Ribs." Verity said thinly, hiking up her shirt up and motioning to the dark bruises lashed across her side to Ratchet before he could work himself up into a fit.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet scoops up the kit and comes back--he doesn't look like he's close to a fit now. He doesn't look like he's close to an anything. His face is blank and smooth as he works almost mechanically, slipping a pad under her head and touching slowly, carefully, checking her for broken bones with delicate fingers, unwilling to use untested diagnostic scanners on her more delicate frame. The frozen look in his optic is far removed from his usual loud rancor as he works, and he barely says anything at all, except to ask questions.

"Broken, or cracked?" he asked, pressing soft fingertips to her side, unwilling to push too hard to check. "Can you tell?"

[optout]

Optimus had been keeping tabs on the medical bay since everyone returned, wanting to make sure everything was accounted for and taken care of. Call it one more responsibility added to his list in this place, but certainly one he didn't mind. But hearing a crash like that certainly didn't sound good, and Optimus's earpiece perks up in alertness as he follows it, making sure to watch his footing. Came with the territory when you're one of the taller members of the species.

But he doesn't expect to see a human there--and more importantly, one he knows.

"Verity."

Yes, Optimus, you're good at this. "You're here? You're...injured." Oh god, and pretty badly too. He hurries over, kneeling down at a slight distance to make way for his size, to get a closer look. "We haven't had contact from you in ages...is anything broken?"

He guesses, but...best to let the human tell him instead of being an ass of u and me. Hands gesture out to attempt to get her to a better place than the floor.

[wreckers]

"I've been seen."

Verity said thinly before the wide shadow at the door filled the room followed by the massive figure stitched to it. Ratchet went above and beyond a patch job, but she was still fatigued and not doing anything more taxing than sitting up. And yet the hard way her eyes case the room then fall on Optimus.

"Optimus."

[optout]

"Ratchet, I assume," his voice is soft as he gestures to the handiwork, slowly approaching.

That gaze could pierce even the toughest armour, and Optimus can't help but soften his own at it. He knew Verity, and knew how tough she was--knew how RESOURCEFUL she was.

This had to be something to get her swept up like this.

"I was unaware of your presence here. But it's good to see you, all things considered." He just hopes the feeling is mutual.

[wreckers]

"What can I say," She said, "Those hands are magic."

Verity still had that sandpaper roughness to her voice. The swelling around her face was still aggressive red and bruised purple, leg from the ankle down in a splint. Only her eyes were alert and zeroed in on him. Making Optimus figuratively sweat under pressure was an achievement not many could claim.

Still, Optimus she never did get a read on even back on Earth when it was just her and the other tagalongs the likes of Jimmy and Hunter getting swept up in something too big from them. Back when Machination was their most immediate, clear cut problem and the Earth wasn't totally on fire. Optimus was this distant man on the mountain Verity gave a wide berth even as she flagrantly ignored his wishes to keep humans uninvolved.

Now she didn't much seem to hold him in that almost reverent view she used to.

"Are you still in charge?" She asked, curtly. "Heard you bailed. Then something about Megatron changing colors."

(A few days lateur)

[aminerproblem]

[Verity was the first human they'd had as a patient at the clinic, and as unfortunate as the circumstances were that put her on the medical berth to begin with, he still found himself curious about them. Talking with June didn't really cover the whole scope of an entire species, did it?]

[So, some time later, he kneels down to the small berth and the even smaller patient, he does his best to hide his own intrigue. He was here to tend to her first and foremost.]

How are you feeling?

[wreckers]

[ Blankets were definitely an improvement; she owed whoever bankrolled textiles now that she could be laid up on the medical berth without worrying about aggravating the fact her ribs were sticking together out of determined spite. Waking up at the sound of someone talking, she stirred in the cocoon she made for herself.

Only what needed to change was how they kept running lights on in the clinic. Humans had these inconvenient things called retinas. Verity blinked against the harsh fluorescent light and tilted her head into the shade of the massive figure looming over her. Squinting, she started to say 'Impactor' until her eyes adjusted to the light. ]

You look a little big for a nurse.

[ She didn't sound ungrateful, just amused if exhausted as she eased up into a sitting position. Blankets down around her waist she was nothing but bandages from the neck down. She pointed to a stack of clothes on a near by table. ]

In one piece. Pass me my bra?

[ beat. ]

It's the chestpiece with the hooks.

[aminerproblem]

[Megatron seems concerned as she sits up, still unfamiliar with the thresholds of human hardiness. But she didn't wince in pain, so he assumes she wasn't straining herself too badly.]

[Unbothered at all with the task, he prods through the lump of cleaned clothing to pull out a bra by the strap between two massive fingers.]

[With the piece half dangling out of the pile, he looks back at her.]

This? Are you sure? It isn't much of an armor plate.

[wreckers]

It functions for support not protection.

[ Verity pulls a face but otherwise has no other reaction as she snatches the bra out from between fingers that look better suits to crushing boulders than suturing. ]

You know Impactor? Hazard tapes' not that popular for anyone under the age of fifteen with a bedroom door and issues.

[Yanking the blankets aside she slips her arms between the straps; mindful of bandages but unconcerned with the giant robot leaning over her. After the Wreckers she had gotten most of the awkward conversations out of the way, and this was supposed to be a medical check-in. ]

for Ratchet

[wreckers]

"Do you think the more doggerel verses in Megatron's romantic phase was early fumbling or some kind of swipe at popular literature? Hell, what was popular during the Senate years?"

Verity looked up from the tablet she had balanced on her bent knees, end of a electronic pen still in her mouth. Back propped against the wall with her knees up and a blanket underneath her the spot on Ratchet's desk she annexed for herself was almost cozy. Almost if she weren't making increasingly obvious attempts to fill the stale and oppressively awkward air in the room with words. Ratchet was working, and Verity was throwing out her entire arsenal of conversation starters without much luck.

It had been a little more than a week since what had now been cleverly rebranded The Incident, and four days since her seizure. A lot had happened in that short span of time and while Verity had all but received a clean bill of health she had stayed in the clinic even after the line about staying for observation was exhausted. Truthfully, she didn't want to risk finding Prowl still sniffing around her usual haunts - and neither did she want to leave Ratchet alone when he was looking older by the day. If that were possible for a giant robots. Verity set her tablet and pen down. If just to make a noise.

"You're awful quiet."

[asafepairofhands]

"Not sure," Ratchet says in absent answer to her question. "Never read his poetry. Not really my thing."

Ratchet looks up from the tools he's cleaning and sets them down, easing up into his crutches and limping closer, smoothly now after so long on them.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, not really answering her question, his optics intent on her face as he stops next to the countertop she's curled up on.

[wreckers]

"Fine." Verity answered automatically because at this point it was an almost conditioned response to snub personal questions about her own well-being. Even when it was Ratchet and she didn't want to in the first place. The heavy sigh that followed was long, drawn out and absolutely unnecessary.

"Ignored wasn't a symptom last time I checked." Fingers drummed on the countertop to fill the spaces fissured between them by the silence. "How're you feeling?"

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet actually has the grace to look vaguely guilty.

"Sorry. We're just still getting set up here. More supplies are coming in by the day, and there's a lot to organize--and the more organized we are, the faster we can move in a crisis."

It's a bullshit excuse and he knows it, but it's the only one he's got just now. He looks away from Verity's face briefly.

"I'm all right. Getting good enough on these crutches that my bum leg isn't slowing me down too much." By 'bum' he means 'missing entirely', and his shoulders and elbows and wrists and his remaining leg ache, but he glosses over that entirely. He shrugs a little into his crutches. "We have enough supplies, and fuel, and space. Can't ask for much else, besides a few problem elements to spontaneously be swallowed by the ground and never seen nor heard from again."

>_>; yeah lets go with like a day or two later

[taselikeabee]

[ you know how word gets around, yeah? so it really shouldn't be too surprising to see one minibot finding his way to the clinic.

he doesn't say much. Bee doesn't have to kneel to get low to the makeshift bed. honestly he sits down next to it. this could be a little awkward, considering Bee hadn't really had much contact with humans in the last oh... what is it now? year and a half? two years? something like that. maybe even longer where Verity herself is concerned. ]

It's been a while since I've seen your happy face around.

[ a light ribbing, honestly. yes, Bumblebee could ask how she is doing, but that's probably obvious isn't it? besides... he doesn't remember her liking the 'fragile human' treatment very much. might as well try a different direction, right? ]

[wreckers]

[ Verity was buried down deep somewhere under the haze of painkillers and the near constant checkups from Ratchet or June. Eyes screwed tight she sits herself up on the gurney part blanket nest, rubbing her eyes around the dark circles strained under them. She blinks slowly against the bright lights until the voice and the dark shape beside the bed takes on a more familiar countenance. And the name just falls out of her mouth. ]

Bumblebee...?

[ The gears unstick themselves and start turning. Verity is suddenly up and alert. ]

Holy s- Bee!?

[taselikeabee]

[ pfft. that makes for kind of an amusing scene. okay, so the circumstances are horrible and getting injured like that? horrible. not laughing at that. just the sudden surprise and bedhead. that's what the half laugh is for. ]

Don't get up too fast. Might make yourself dizzy and then I really will get in trouble with our favorite medic.

[ still. nice to see some excitement. ]

[wreckers]

[ Verity waved him off, pulling herself up to throw her legs over the side of the gurney. Enough room to close the gap and while she couldn't feasibly hug someone that big, even a minicon, she could awkwardly get an arm around with the gesture close enough to still hold its intent. ]

Shut up, I'm not made of glass. Ratchet's all hot air.

[ Covered head to toe in bandages with an IV bag attached to her arm made that statement a hardsell. But she wasn't in any immediate pain, and more importantly it was good to see a friendly face out here. ]

It's been...Christ, it's been a while.

days later

[lethalimpact]

Megatron had mentioned that Verity had been admitted to the Medical bay, and although Ratchet had probably suggested he not touch anything (at this point he was nurse only in title thanks to First Aid), he couldn't help but peek in to check up on her. She was...after all, someone he knew. Maybe not now, but further down the line.

He's curious, okay.

He wanders in, without making a sound from his mouth, although his footsteps are another matter entirely. He's not the most graceful goose on the lake. "You awake?"

Well if she isn't, she probably would be now. These are his bedside manners aren't they great.

[wreckers]

There was some passing mention that Impactor had been brought in as something of a nursing assistant by First Aid. Word was the latter had been big on the Wreckers Declassified - particularly her and Ironfist's contributions. Still, the career change threw her for a loop. But then again, Megatron also worked here.

"In here, Ahab."

Back turned standing beside her gurney near a large metal sink built to human height, Verity didn't spare a glance over her shoulder for a couple of reasons. One, she was in the process of getting dressed and while her deep space adventures killed any care she had about giant robots seeing her in a grundies she was otherwise preoccupied. A data tablet was propped up on the table adjacent the sink; in between hooking her bra up and checking bandages she was swiping through page after page of something.

[lethalimpact]

Changing clothes were something new to him--sure, they had cloth imported, but the stigma behind it is lost as he walks in. Except for maybe an eyebrow raised. Humans were certainly strange, and the idea that he apparently had one on his team at one point...even stranger.

"It's Impactor."

But he pads closer, getting a bit more on her level as he watches, more looking for any injuries that may or may not be hidden. "Heard you picked a fight with one of us. Have to say I'm impressed."

[wreckers]

Whatever dismissive reply Verity returned was was muffled through the fabric of the shirt she was pulling over her head. Cotton felt cool on her skin not wrapped up in bandages. She rocked her hips adjusting the hem and her belt before turning around and powering down the data tablet in the process all in one fluid motion.

"Nicknames not a thing on Cybertron?" She knew to an extent they were, but she was being an ass.

She makes a big show of how tough she is but sometimes I wonder. Verity flipped her ponytail her her shoulder, shaking loose something over heard a life time ago drummed up when Impactor gave her a verbal thumbs up for recent events.

"Save the applause - I didn't exactly win." Sparring Ratchet and Optimus the stress, beyond details that a fight broke out between a human and another Cybertronian the specifics were hush hush while the matter was being handled in house.

"How's the transition from miner to nurse going?" Not the smoothest transition, but where that conversation was heading was already exhausting her.