tagging this log constitutes consent to be hugged by a small purple autobot

[quantumechanic]

Who: Nautica and whoever is not going to start shit
Where: the clinic
When: after she gets hurled into a wall (thx tfp megatron) and before she's off the robot drugs
What: drugged-up Nautica is even friendlier than regular Nautica
Warnings: shameless fluff?

A docile patient, particularly in comparison to the other people around here likely to end up in the clinic, Nautica was curled up on her side in a berth, uncomplaining despite the fresh welds spidering silver across her back and impeller housings. The circuit dampers keeping those welds from bothering her might have been slightly miscalibrated--she was a small mech, and didn't have a tolerance built up from a lifetime of hospital stays over the course of an unending war. It was hardly the medics' fault they'd erred on the high side, especially considering the scavenged supplies they had to work with.

It did mean, however, that she was feeling no pain, either literally or in the colloquial sense, and for the moment was quite involved in watching her fingers as she repeatedly flexed them into claws or drummed them somewhat less than rhythmically on the edge of the slab. Hands were so complicated.

Comments

[briefcase]

That's fine enough Nautica didn't do any complaining. Brainstorm did the complaining for her, while simultaneously trying to pretend that he didn't care that she was hurt. Purely professional interest, you see-- it was hard to find another quantum mechanic around here.

Still, that didn't keep him from hovering nearby, clutching his briefcase as he watches her from across the medibay, occasionally harassing the medics to check her energon intake and questioning the quality of her repairs. Nautica was acting... funny. But he's no medic, so he wasn't sure why. He hated that.

Eventually, he stops hovering around like some giant robot vulture and leaves for a while, but when he comes back his arms are full of datapads, some in which fall from his arms before he can dump them on the berth with her. He squints at her, looking at her hands.

"Yes, they're hands. What are you doing?"

[quantumechanic]

"27 degrees of freedom, Brainstorm," Nautica said emphatically, as though he'd been there all along and was privy to whatever disjointed thoughts were working their unsteady way through her mind. Holding up her hand, she made exaggerated grabbing motions directed at his face but ending up somewhere around his Autobrand, the highest she could reach while he was standing.

"I counted." She was talking about the sum of different directions every joint in the hand and wrist could move. She'd gotten it right, too, despite the painkiller haze.

[briefcase]

"Um," Brainstorm says, unsure what to respond with. Instead he just juggles the datapads in his arms until he gets one free enough to pat her head. "Good job, Nautica. You did it."

Sitting at someone's berthside in a medibay wasn't something he did. That was Chromedome's area. He knew what to do well. Brainstorm? He was looking for some kind of distraction.

He sets the pads down, picking one up and flipping through it until he finds what he's looking for, holding it for Nautica to see. It doesn't even really cross his mind she's not exactly in the shape to discuss any science or things of importance.

"I found a place that may suffice for a new work-- Say, I could upgrade your hands. I could give you literal finger guns. Nobody would expect that!"

[quantumechanic]

Nautica didn't try to bat his hand away like anyone else would have in response to such a condescending gesture. Head-patting was fine. Everything was fine.

She didn't have time to focus on what Brainstorm was trying to show her before he was talking weapons again. "But I don't want finger guns," she said with a tolerant smile. Pantomiming a pistol with her hand, she pretended to shoot the datapad. "Pew."

[briefcase]

Nautica's adorable. It doesn't keep Brainstorm from being grouchy, folding his arms over his chest as she turns down the idea.

"Maybe if you had any real weapons then you wouldn't have needed to get patched together."

[quantumechanic]

Granted, 'insensitive asshole' was more or less Brainstorm's default setting, but that didn't mean Nautica was going to put up with it, even in her drug-fueled good mood.

"If you're going to be a jerk, you can just leave." She settled onto the slab, hands curled under her cheek, and shuttered her optics.

So there.

[gimmicky]

After hearing the news, Trailbreaker had kept tabs on the medical bay, often asking First Aid how she was doing during her recovery. He wouldn't stay long, Brainstorm often frequented the berth and any potential awkward should probably be avoided. But this was one time that he felt he could stop by.

And he does. The frown fixated on his face slightly aleviates when he sees Nautica actually awake, although consciousness wasn't always a good thing. Still, take your blessings as they're given, and Trailbreaker was doing just that.

Walking over to the bed, he watches her as she seems fixated on her hands, giving a soft sigh as he looks at his own.

"Don't worry, there's supposed to be ten. I'm sure of it."

A soft grin, saying that with as much optimism as he can muster. Always the cheerleader, aren't you.

[quantumechanic]

Nautica didn't notice him until he spoke, because, well. Hands. She had a lot of staring at them to do.

"Trailcutter!" She instantly forgot her scrutiny of her fingers, because Trailcutter was a lot better. If her optics weren't entirely focused as she looked up at him, at least the bright smile was in perfect working order. "Hi."

[briefcase]

Wait. What just happened? What did he say! Brainstorm stammers, somewhat bewildered.

"But I didn't--!" he starts, then looks around the medibay helplessly. "I could make you something really amazing!"

[quantumechanic]

A sliver of blue-green light appeared as Nautica cracked one optic slightly open to check if he was serious.

He was serious.

"Stormy, you're impossible." All things considered, it was pretty impressive there was someone out there more prone to missing social cues than she was. She looked up at him, helm still pillowed on her hands and a half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I like you anyway."

[planate]

They may have only spoken once, but it was enough for Pipes to tell Nautica was Good People. People he immediately wanted to visit after hearing what had happened through the pipeline (ha). He was upset, of course, but ultimately, Nautica had survived and that was the important thing.

Luckily, he'd chosen a day to visit Nautica where the medibay was relatively empty and she was awake. Double luck! Pipes waves at her cautiously.

[quantumechanic]

Nautica noticed a hand motion that wasn't hers, and raised her helm to see Pipes waving at her. She waved back. Hi, Pipes!

[planate]

Unaware Natuica is currently ripped to the robot tits on robot morphine, Pipes is incredibly delighted that she's conscious and seemingly okay. Not that his reaction would be any different if he did know, mind.

He scampers over, like the adorable little shit he is.

"How're you feeling?"

[quantumechanic]

"I'm great," Nautica said with conviction.

She was covered in welds and scraped paint and had a fluids line going into her arm. This was clearly some strange Camien definition of the word 'great.'

[briefcase]

Of course he was serious.

He was also seriously terrible at social situations like this. Brainstorm was completely lost.

"You do?" he asks, sounding almost suspicious before he catches himself. "I mean, of course you do. What isn't there to like?"

That's not an invite to tell him his flaws, okay. He clutches his briefcase tighter, his spark pulsing a littler quicker in his chassis.

[quantumechanic]

Anyone else, Chromedome included, would have dived through that opening, conversational guns blazing. Nautica just giggled at Brainstorm's ego. "Im-possible."

She pulled a hand free from under her cheek and reached out to poke him, but misjudged the distance and had to grab at his arm instead to keep herself from rolling off the slab.

"Oops." She laughed again, not bothered by the near-mishap.

[gimmicky]

It's hard not to smile back when she's doing that, and it even flusters him a bit. Drugs or not, she's still a pickmeup from his own self esteem issues.

"Hey. I uh..didn't wanna bother you too much. Thought I'd just come to see how you were doing."

A hand reaches up, rubbing the back of his head while the other gestures out.

"So...how're you doing? I guess that's...an obvious question now."

[quantumechanic]

"I'm fiiiiine." Nautica drawled the word, and Trailcutter had spent enough time in similarly impaired states of mind that he ought to recognize the signs of someone not firing on all thrusters.

"Thank you for coming to visit." She made a grab for the hand he was gesturing with, but missed.

[rodders]

Rodimus hasn't actually left the clinic for any significant length of time after he returned from watching Megatron and Tarn beat the shit out of each other - he's stayed close to Drift's side for most of it, sometimes literally when Ratchet couldn't shoo him out of the clinic at night. But he does, occasionally, tear himself away from the other bot to swing over to where Nautica is still recovering.

He does kind of squint at whatever she's doing with her hand, because what. "You should find someone other than Ratchet to take a look at it. He looks like he's going to explode. That or strangle the next injured mech who walks in here." Assuming something in her hand is broken, obviously.

[quantumechanic]

"Have you ever really looked at your hands, Rodimus?" She held up one of hers, palm out and fingers splayed like someone making the 'stop' gesture. There did not appear to be anything wrong with the hand in question. "So many points of articulation. Hands are great."

[planate]

Well, she's alive. That's certainly a good thing.

"Glad to hear it," If he had a face, he might frown lightly at her current condition, but alas. "Do you remember what happened?"

[quantumechanic]

"Megatron threw me into a wall," she said, much, much more cheerfully than that revelation warranted. "I hit my head, so I don't really remember, but Megatron told me that's what happened."

Waaaaaait. Squinting, Nautica reviewed what she'd just said, since something seemed off about it.

...Nope, accurate in all details. Everything was fine.

[rodders]

"Once or twice." When he carved the numbers into his palm to remember his failures, yep, he sure did spend a lot of time staring at his hands. Not something he cares to discuss with Nautica, however, and so he is gently moving on from that topic as quickly and as gracefully as he's capable of.

"Yeah, and everyone's got 'em. You've had them for a few million years." So why are you staring at them like you've just seen them, huh? Is this what people who like magic do on their off days? People who aren't Brainstorm.

[gimmicky]

Ooooh, he knew that drawl. One he'd spoken himself not too long ago. To be honest, it was weird being on the other end of it. But the small smile stays, hand going out to hers to pat it.

"I bet you are."

But the next part has him almost bashful, shifting on his feet as he avoids eye contact, suddenly finding the ceiling all the more interesting. "Ah...yeah. I....it's tough being in the medibay. Not much you can really do..."

Which brings him to his next part. He doubts she'll find use in this at the moment, but it's the thought that counts.

"So I brought you something."

[planate]

"...Ah."

And Pipes had hoped they'd be past all the Decepticon/Autobot fighting. Sweet, naive Pipes.

"Megatron visited you after he threw you into the wall?"