if you pray to god for rain, don't you complain about the lightning

[asafepairofhands]

Who: Ratchet and YOU and also whoever else wants to set up threads in here
What: Ratchet's limping around on crutches, feel free to put yourself in the line of fire
Where: Red Alert's clinic
When: A little while after Drift is conscious
Warnings: YELLING? yelling probably


Well, it had been a few days and nobody had nearly died again so Ratchet starts to let himself relax a little.

Not much, mind--Drift and Nautica are still bedridden, if not critical, and there are people in and out all the time. This is completely ignoring the fact that Pharma and Tarn are wandering around out there somewhere, probably terrorizing the general populace or maiming things or doing whatever else psychotic killers do in their clearly abundant free time. Ratchet has no such luxury, and he works, maintaining the patients he already has on top of trying to handle anyone else who comes in the door. He's just not necessarily pleasant about it.

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

"First Aid," Ratchet says, and he almost opens his mouth to say something about First Aid being kind enough to come in and help, but it dies in his throat, his optics dimming slightly.

"...I need to talk to you. Privately, please."

[smarterthandad]

"I can teach myself human medicine if I have to, I guess," Val said, sounding like it was the last thing she wanted to do. Biology, ew. "Cybertronian physiology is much more interesting." Novelty was a factor in that, yes, but when you got right down to it, she just loved machines.

[phase6kindofbot]

"Because." Insert vaguely annoyed huff here.

That's all Ratchet was getting as far as the matter of Tarn not being squished went. He's not talking about the strangely calm aftermath of that brief fight to anyone.

"Megatron does care, you know." Sixshot rumbles instead of answering, lazily flexing his gigantic claws against the rubble. "Tarn is his hound, just like me. Loyal hounds know their masters well, and both of us knows that Megatron cares enough that maiming any one of you will tick him off quite royally."

[lifepersists]

First Aid had turned his attention back to the trash bin by the time that Ratchet says his name, but he lifts his head to look at him again at the request. Here it was coming-- the lecture about being lazy. He didn't even really have a decent excuse either.

Might as well get it over with.

He places the bin down, nodding. "Okay... Sure."

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet nods to a storeroom and shuts the door, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He resists the urge to reach out to First Aid, his hands tightening hard on his crutches until the turns of his wrists ache.

"I need you to know," he says quietly, his optics dim but focused on First Aid's face, "that Pharma is here. He came into the clinic a bit ago, and I haven't seen you to warn you. I just didn't want you to run into him unprepared."

[lifepersists]

The sound of First Aid's venting ceases entirely, his frame going stiff. It feels like his mind has gone blank-- he can't think about anything at all. He should have known that it was too good to be true that Trailcutter was fine. If the dead could be alive here then-- no, he had never thought about the possibility of Pharma.

After a few long moments, the optic mechanisms behind his visor dilate and he begins to move again, as if his joints were suddenly unrusted and freed from whatever frozen state they were in.

"I see. Thanks for the warning." He'll need to start carrying a gun again.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet stares down at First Aid, at the awful stillness, and exhales a soft, unsteady hiss of warm air, dragging another vent in as he debates briefly.

"He also told me you killed him," Ratchet says, very softly. There's no anger in his voice--he doesn't show any emotion at all, actually, just watches First Aid, his expression carefully neutral. "I'm going to assume it's true."

[lifepersists]

First Aid stares up at Ratchet. He was glad he was no longer holding anything, because his hands were trembling by his sides. Even though the older medic's voice was soft, the confrontation was still horrible. He'd almost prefer to be yelled at, since then at least he could react in anger.

"Yes," he murmurs, gaze dropping away. "After I left you to find him. I found him pressed up against the portal. He laughed, Ratchet. He found it all funny. Delphi-- what he did to Ambulon. It was all a big joke."

[asafepairofhands]

Something crumples a little in Ratchet's face to have it confirmed, and he dims his optics for a moment, his shoulders slumping as he leans hard on his crutches, just sinking into them under the weight. He's very still for a long moment before he finally nods, once, his optics flaring on again to look First Aid in the optic.

"I wish you'd told me," he says, his voice raw. He looks more tired than First Aid has likely ever seen him. "I know I said I didn't want him dead, and I meant it, but--I know it's been hard for you, since. Everything." He cycles a soft, shaking vent of air. "I just wish I'd known."

[lifepersists]

There's that disappointment in Ratchet's expression that makes him want to bury his face in his hands. He doesn't want to talk more about this.

"Why? What would have that accomplished? Send me to Rung? Rung knew. He was there. He watched me do it."

He turns his head, looking away from Ratchet.

"It had to be done."

[asafepairofhands]

"He's--he used to be my friend. It's not what I wanted for him."

Ratchet does reach out now, shifting to lean more heavily on one crutch as his fingertips brush First Aid's shoulder, then settle there lightly.

"...but I won't argue it's what he deserved. And I'm not angry. ...you knew Ambulon and everyone on Delphi better than I did."

[asafepairofhands]

"Yeah, well. You could have gone and done everyone a big favor, you know."

Ratchet adjusts his grip on his crutches, his lips thinning.

"I don't see why he'd care," Ratchet says, a little bitterly.

[asafepairofhands]

"Yeah, well, we have people who know Cybertronian physiology. My knowledge of humans is, well. Limited, let's say." Ratchet's just going to not mention the incident with the jumper cables. "Not much I can do if one of you gets too badly injured."

[smarterthandad]

"Maintain oxygen flow to the brain. Everything else is details. If someone loses a limb I'll make them a prosthetic." Val waved a hand in dismissal of other concerns about human medical procedures. Except... "Ugh, I should do something about pain management." Grudgingly, she made another note on her tablet. More things taking away time from her fun projects.

[lifepersists]

"You wanted to know so you can see your friend's murderer every time you look at me."

First Aid barely registers the touch. He doesn't react to it at all, still looking away from Ratchet. His tanks were roiling. He felt sick. He felt guilty.

"You wouldn't do it, so I had to."

[asafepairofhands]

"...you're right."

Ratchet's voice is heavy and sure, and his hand doesn't slide away from First Aid's shoulder.

"Well said. Again." He makes a soft noise, shaking his head. "Pharma's not my friend. Not anymore. ...he hasn't been for a long time, and you knew that better than I did. I don't see a murderer when I look at you, First Aid. I see the medic I still want to take over as CMO, when he can. But that's--it's what you had to do. I don't think I could have, and it was a hard thing. I wish I'd known earlier. ...anyway."

He looks unbearably tired--he doesn't know how he feels about Pharma's murder, but he can't bring himself to be angry with First Aid, not with everything else that's happened here. His arm aches at the joint where the crutch is pressed and he draws it back from First Aid's shoulder, settling on his crutch again.

"What I'm saying is, take your time, if you need to. All right? The post will be here for you when you can take it."

[lifepersists]

First Aid bites back bitter words from spilling from his vocalizer. There it was, the offer of CMO again. But Ratchet still had no intention of giving that title away when he had working hands, did he? And his grief was just another excuse to hold onto it.

They had already had that conversation, though. First Aid's visor flickers and he looks back at Ratchet, feeling resentment for the exhausted expression on his face. He didn't hate Ratchet-- he just hated this behavior.

"Right." First Aid cycles a vent. "You told me he's alive for a reason. You probably know what will happen if I see him."

Pharma couldn't be allowed to live-- not home, especially not here. Really, could he do it again? First Aid curls his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

[asafepairofhands]

"...no. I don't know what will happen," Ratchet says, watching First Aid steadily. "But whatever does, I wanted you to be prepared if you saw him. It wasn't a pleasant surprise."

He reaches up, rubbing at his face briefly before he just shakes his head.

"Tarn's here too. I don't know if you heard. He's why Drift is laid up, and he's the reason for this." Ratchet shifts onto his foot and one crutch, tapping the one not holding his weight against the empty half of his pelvic block. "He's going after Autobots trying to get Megatron's attention--but he's also looking for someone who will do t-cog transplants. You need to be careful."

[phase6kindofbot]

"Perhaps."

He doesn't doubt for a second that Tarn would have put his name on the List too if he'd known about Sixshot's defection. The DJD leader should have been disposed of. Things had gotten... complicated though.

"Salvation? Redemption? Mid-life crisis?" The Sixer snorts. He only knows how his master feels- not WHY he feels so. "Whatever it is, he's already tossed us under the bus for you."

[lifepersists]

First Aid fights the urge to laugh sharply. They spent this whole conversation talking out how it was necessary for Pharma to die and then Ratchet says he doesn't know what would happen if he sees him.

His attention shifts abruptly as the topic moves away from Pharma. First Aid's head whips up, the glow of his visor intense as he stares at Ratchet.

"Tarn. Of the DJD," he repeats, and then the shake gets to his frame. "Why didn't you tell me? Why were you stupid enough to let this happen to you?"

[milkruns]

"Not strictly speaking, no. But Megatron mentioned he's been working with you."

June was sort of surprised to hear that Megatron's interested in medicine at all -- she just wouldn't have guessed -- but it's sort of reassuring that he's putting time into that instead of...whatever turned Megatron into a war-mongering tyrant in the future.

"My name's June," she introduces herself matter-of-factly. She'd hold out a hand, but she figures Ratchet needs to be holding onto those crutches. (The size difference isn't a concern, Shockwave had shaken her hand no problem.) "I knew some Autobots back home, although talking to everyone else here I've come to understand that was a...different universe, I guess."

She eyes the space where Ratchet's missing leg ought to be with a concerned frown, and her expression darkens slightly. "Was that Tarn's doing?"

[warcorrespondent]

After the talk with Megatron, Aftermath makes a quiet change to his current routine. Instead of driving off in hunt of clues that might explain the emptiness of this world, he stays nearer now. In light of recent events, he was needed here instead of out in the empty urban wilderness anyways.

He needed to know more about what had happened. Megatron had already given him his piece, but it was always good to get as many sources of information on an event as possible. Perhaps it would help them predict what Tarn's next actions were.

Stepping cautiously into the clinic, the first person he sees is one of the very people he'd been hoping to talk with.

"Ah, hello," he greets. And because it never hurt to make sure, the old truck adds, "Are you Ratchet?"

[taselikeabee]

Bumblebee mostly leans off to the side. Watching. Ratchet sure is being very... Ratchet. Despite everything, Bee does have a little grin.

"They say doctors make the worst patients."

Really, the old guy should slow down. Just a little. Hobbling around on that leg can't be good on him. Bee is a little concerned, but not so much that he is going to put himself out there. Ratchet might throw something at him and Bee doesn't need another scratch to add to his collection.

[system_dp]

You should go see a medic. Such odd advice that quite a few people have given Miria since she's been on this planet. So here she was, outside what she was guessing is the medical facility, standing at the door and...

Not quiet sure what to do. Does she just go in? Should she knock? Or announce that she's here? This is something she has no knowledge of, but she'll follow the procedure she knows from home. Which is to ask permission to enter the repair bay.

"... This Unit is requesting permission to enter the premises." It's said loudly, so hopefully someone inside hears her. If not she'll be standing in front of the door for a long time until someone shows up.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet has been trying to be patient up until now, but at that outburst his temper starts to fray.

"Excuse me, stupid? Why didn't I tell you? Because you've been basically AWOL for weeks, maybe? Stupid." His voice goes low and dangerous. "Tarn came in here looking for a t-cog and someone to do a transplant for him. Would you prefer I'd given him what he wanted instead of telling him to go to hell? That I'd used Pharma's hands to fix him? Do you think that would have been better? How dare you--you weren't here! What the hell do you think I should have done!"