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

[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."

[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?"

[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!"

[lifepersists]

Things were obviously going to get heated. First Aid's visor narrows as he stares back at Ratchet, his frame tense.

"Run away! That's a thing you can do, you know! Well, obviously not now, but prior to losing a leg and a wheel, it was possible." He's offended, hurt that Ratchet would fling the comparison to Pharma at him. He was worried; to First Aid, facing down the DJD was an act only of an idiot. Trailcutter's smile and soft refusal of help was still fresh in his memories. He was tired of stupid heroism.

"Did you even try to call for help? Or anything? I should have known sooner. You could have-- you could have woken me up, or sent someone to wake me up. I'm depressed, not a ghost."

[asafepairofhands]

"And, what, leave him to rip the entire medibay apart? You think I should have called for help? So, what, I could put somebody else in Tarn's line of fire, watch him rip them to pieces? No thank you!" Ratchet says angrily.

"I handled it. And I don't have time to go chasing after you if you're not here, not with two critical patients and everything else that's going on."

[lifepersists]

First Aid's hands clench into fists at his sides, then turns his head away angrily. He's too tired for this.

"I would have rather him tear the whole city streets apart going after you than tear you limb from limb. We can rebuild. We can't rebuild you."

He punches the door open, then pauses and transforms into his ambulance mode, idling for a moment. (It's a city built for giant transforming robots, okay. There are big doors everywhere.)

"I'm a little bit tired of being helpless to keep people I care about from being torn apart. You could have had someone tell me. Friends generally tell their friends when something bad has happened to them, or you know, get someone else to if they can't. So, if you'll excuse me, sir, I have some rubbish to take out."