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]

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."