robothell | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: First Aid, Rampage and Sixshot
What: Sixshot plays fetch.
When: A little bit after First Aid's intensive surgeries.
Where: The clinic!
Warnings: Awkward robots!

There's someone out there that needs to be dragged in to visit First Aid. Someone who had possibly saved his life. Sixshot had smelled it in the small medic's energon and the mingle of scents that Tarn had been in the middle of washing out.

It's that scent that brings him to a stop, sniffing at a small, deep crack in the pavement. He's been around the city enough to know that there was a subway system under there and there were probably several entrances nearby that the Sixer could have used to enter the area with relative ease.

Instead, he starts digging.

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"Oh." Well, that isn't quite what he expected? Rampage grumbles, "You could have just asked. You've ruined a perfect good napping spot..."

He tries to gaze sullenly at Sixshot, but it's difficult when Sixshot is biting his ass. "...so how is he? Other than being alive."

He'd have felt it if First Aid had died.

"Well, if you stop shooting at me as a greeting, I might just consider treating you like a reasonable person," the Sixer remarks with a muffled, indignant huff.

"He's walking now. Somewhat." With a bit of assist and not for very long, but, well. "He's getting better however and I thought it's a good time to show him who'd saved him. He's been missing you, anyways."

"You say that like you don't deserve a missile in the face now and then," Rampage snipes back.

He makes a noncommittal noise at the update on First Aid. "Well, I suppose we can't all be me. I'd have been fine in minutes." His mandibles twitch a little. "...Has he really?"

He's not sure he believes that, but then it is First Aid. First Aid actually likes him for some reason.

"This is First Aid, Rampage," Sixshot answers, unwittingly echoing the crab's thoughts as the clinic comes into sight. "I don't know what glimmer of charm he sees in you, but it's true."

The wolf-former slows to a stop then and places Rampage down with surprising gentleness before sitting back on his haunches and waiting expectantly.

Rampage gives a snort of laughter at that. So true!

He twitches all his legs as Sixshot sets him down, then promptly turns and knocks him hard in the snout with one fat claw. There, that's what you get for digging him up!

"...What?"

He's not going into the clinic again, right?

"Yip!"

Sixshot growls and paws at his snout indignantly. It didn't hurt but it wasn't pleasant either, and he levels a glare at Rampage before huffing.

"Get in there," he grumbles, narrowing his optics and flicking his wings in annoyance.

Rampage stares at the medibay, then back at Sixshot, then back at the medibay.

"...I don't want to," he says, with incredible maturity.

Looking decidedly unimpressed with this new development, Sixshot gets up.

"You're getting in there," he says in a tone that left no room for argument before butting his head against Rampage's aft and pushing him towards the entrance.

Edited 2015-12-28 23:18 (UTC)

Rampage makes the most disgruntled noises he's capable of making as Sixshot pushes him towards the entrance, but he doesn't actually fight against it.

"Why can't he come out here?" he whines.

"Because he's recovering from serious wounds and you're not," Sixshot grumbles, stopping abruptly when Rampage's legs impede them from getting through the door. He didn't want to damage the entryway so the six-former eases up with an exasperated huff.

"Get in there!"

"You'll be recovering from serious wounds if you don't stop shoving," Rampage mutters, even though they both know it's an idle threat.

With a heavy sigh, Rampage transforms, taking on his more door-shaped humanoid form.

He refuses to make this easy for Sixshot.

Rampage flopping onto his head makes Sixshot rumble in displeasure before transforming too and grabbing the crab around his chest.

"You don't even have to stay very long, just bloody say 'hi' to him," he says, picking the larger mech up and trying to fit them into the door without breaking anything.

Being carried by Sixshot is patently ridiculous looking, but Rampage prefers looking ridiculous to actively giving in. He gets his head knocked against the door frame for his trouble.

"Ow," he grumbles as Sixshot carries him in. "I just don't like medibays. You should have carried him out to me instead."

Sixshot was right about First Aid being up and about-- mostly. He was off the life support but his frame was still a mess of weld scars. He still had plenty of healing to do before repainting could be considered. Adding a fresh paint of coat to a healing weld could complicate the healing process.

He could walk, but not for too long; he's still far too weak and dizzy to be on his feet for long. Instead First Aid gets around mainly by a makeshift wheelchair. It wasn't exactly the most high tech, but it worked well enough First Aid could get around the medibay.

The bickering draws his attention before Sixshot and Rampage even enter the door, so by the time the sixchanger gets the unruly beast mech inside, First Aid is waiting for them.

He gets up on wobbly feet, then promptly wraps his arms around Sixshot and Rampage's legs.

"Rampage!"

"Because it's less pleasant for- ah!" Sixshot freezes mid-stride at the arms around his leg.

Well, there goes his spark. Just melting away. It's not like he needed it for anything anyways.

"First Aid," he says in a much gentler voice. "If you'd be so kind as to give us some space, I'd like to put this afthead down somewhere."

Rampage is perfectly ready to continue bantering with Sixshot, but his plans are derailed by something small, excited, and precious hugging his legs.

He'd like to make fun of the effect First Aid has on Sixshot, but... well.

"Hrm," he replies awkwardly, horns quirking at odd angles.

First Aid vents heavily like he had stopped his fans for a moment, then pries himself away.

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry," he says, settling back in his chair and wheeling back a bit to give the two some space. He doesn't let his optics leave them though.

"I'm just excited. I missed you. I don't have much to do and I get sort of stir crazy. I'm not really used to having such a weak body, but then everything feels kind of wrong about it like this. I suppose you just feel sort of strong when you're sixty meters tall and forget how weak you are apart."

He's been... kind of addled and rambley in his recovery.

"I should see if I can find some game boxes around the city. I wouldn't want you to get too stir crazy," Sixshot says, setting Rampage down before walking over to First Aid's side kneeling next to him. He's quite used to the rambling by now and takes the sudden wall of words in a stride- until that last little bit.

"... Apart?" Wait. What.

Rampage stands awkwardly as Sixshot sets him down and goes to First Aid's side. He's not sure what to do with himself, so he just sort of stands and crosses his arms, his beast-mode legs slowly curling over his shoulders defensively as he tries to ignore his surroundings.

First Aid isn't talking a whole lot of sense at the moment, and his horns quirk even more.

"You're in much fewer pieces than the last time I saw you."

Sixshot decides to walk within reach, so First Aid reaches out and takes his cheeks between his hands, tugging him closer, and then bonks their masks together. He lets him go a moment later, then reaches for Rampage. Come here and get a proper hug.

He's so very glad to see them.

"A lot fewer than I'd like." The need to combine was something that still burned in his circuits. Tarn essentially accentuated the feeling of wrongness that was individualism. Still, First Aid was completely oblivious that he didn't make sense; a nice concoction of pain drugs and healing brain damage made his lucidness come and go. Ratchet was right to keep him away from work still.

"Where have you been hiding?"

The hands on his cheeks earn First Aid a low rumble of happiness and Sixshot lets his optics flicker off as their masks touch. When he is let go, he shifts his weight and moves to sit with his back against one of the medical berths.

First Aid wasn't making any sense at the moment, but he doesn't try ask just yet what was going on. The sudden information drop about his apparent past as a combiner was something Sixshot suspects he's not supposed to know about yet anyways.

"He's been underground."

"I wasn't hiding," Rampage huffs, slowly settling into a crouch in front of First Aid when the little medic reaches for him. "I was just minding my own business."

Meaning he wandered around aimlessly, chilled out in holes, and terrorized the local fauna.

His horns twitch with his confusion, and he adds, "I could break you back into a few more pieces, but I don't think your spark could handle it this time."

The little light in his chest still doesn't feel quite as bright as it used to. But then maybe that's just how it'll be from now on. Rampage hasn't had a lot of experience with sparks coming back from the brink of death. Just a lot of experience putting them there.

"Underground?"

That response makes First Aid pause, looking at Rampage strangely. He didn't want to be in pieces like he was before. He wanted to be more. Rampage always said strange things though, and after a moment he pulls the beast mech to him into a snuggling hug.

"Gosh, you're filthy. You need a scrub."

He gives Rampage a little nuzzle, then lets him go, looking at Sixshot. It was difficult to choose which one to snuggle, so after that, he just chooses not to to choose, instead folding his hands.

"Thank you for bringing him. Anyway, if you find any games, would you play with me?"

"You were so hiding," Sixshot intones serenely. He's helping, Rampage, aren't you happy?

He watches the exchange go, curious. Rampage's offer to break First Aid into a few more pieces earns a very narrow optic-ed look, though. Don't you dare, crab face. Don't you dare.

"I would play any game you wanted to," he says, turning back to First Aid, reaching out to place a hand lightly over First Aid's folded ones.

Edited 2016-01-02 04:38 (UTC)

"What could I possibly be hiding from?" Rampage grouses at Sixshot. He's not actually grumpy, though. It's hard to be grumpy when First Aid is giving you nuzzles.

He sits back on his heels when First Aid pulls away, his horns drooping to match his soft gaze.

"I'd be less dirty if someone hadn't decided to drop a roof on me."

That's you he's giving a sidelong look at, Sixshot.