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

SORRY IM LATE DOC

[towardspeace]

The repairs Megatron needs after his face-off with Tarn are relatively minor. That's not to say he doesn't need them – he's come in limping, and with one optic cracked and sparking, and there are numerous dents in his plating – but at least he doesn't need any of his limbs reattached this time.

The same cannot, of course, be said for Ratchet.

Megatron raises an eyebrow as he looks down at the conspicuous absence of leg. Obviously it's not new to him, he was in here before, to see Drift, but he didn't really get the chance to remark on it.

"When are you planning on having that reattached, Doctor?"

UD BETTER BE WOW

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet looks up from what he's doing to take in Megatron's battered state, letting his lip curl slowly. He leans down and scoops a twisted mess of wires and half-stripped plating out of a box labeled 'spares' and thunks it down on the table. It's only recognizable as what used to be a leg after a few moments' scrutiny, once the deep, crumpled indentations made by Tarn's fingers around the knee joint are identifiable as a hand print to bring the rest into focus. Some of the plating is missing from the upper thigh, and a few wires have been cut, stripped, or removed entirely with what is clearly surgical precision.

"Oh, I don't know," Ratchet says, his voice chill poison as he turns back to his other project to pack it up, apparently in no particular hurry despite Megatron's injuries. "You're the one who wanted to be a medic. Why don't you tell me when that," he jerks his chin at the mangled remains of his limb, "will be loadbearing again."

MY ENTIRE BEING IS NAUGHT BUT REPENTANCE

[towardspeace]

Megatron's expression doesn't really change as he looks down at the ex-leg, except for a slight eyebrow-raise. Or, you know, what would be an eyebrow raise if he had eyebrows.

"I see," he says, as if this exchange has been completely civil so far. "No time for serious repairs, I take it."

[asafepairofhands]

"No time and no supplies. I've already had to strip parts of it out to repair Drift's destroyed vocalizer so he could talk to you. I'm not even going to ask how that went."

Ratchet watches Megatron balefully for a moment before he cycles his vents in a sharp rush and jerks his chin towards one of the slabs.

"Sit down, so I can start scanning you. It's going to take some time to be able to get new optic glass, but I'll see what I can do about everything else." He does a few quick scans then gets to work on Megatron's leg, his mouth set into a tight line.

"You didn't kill him, did you." It isn't really a question, and between the size of the dents and the short, rough transfers of purple paint Ratchet doesn't even pretend to not know from whom Megatron had collected his injuries.

[towardspeace]

And if he's not going to ask, Megatron's not about to get into it. He sits as requested with a curt, businesslike nod of – acknowledgement, rather than thanks, but it's close.

"No, I didn't," he says, watching Ratchet work with a small, restrained frown. "I've gathered that was an unpopular decision."