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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

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."

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."

"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.

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."

Nautica caught his hand when Trailcutter made the mistake of bringing it close enough, then realized she didn't have any plans after that. Devoting several seconds of deep thought to the problem of what to do with her prize, she reached a decision and started trying to thread her fingers between his so she could ask him if he was chirolingual. That project ended abruptly at the revelation she was getting a present.

She loved presents.

"Really? What?" Nautica tried to drag him closer by the hand she was still holding, which was not a very effective tactic for someone her size to use on Trailcutter.

Thankfully that's a subject change, because Trailcutter wouldn't know the first thing about magical hand speak. Although, with her drastic tug of his arm, he nearly topples forward. But thankfully with being sober comes quicker reflexes, and his magnawheels instantly activate to keep him grounded.

Flattening Nautica like a pancake was not on his to-do list.

"Ah!! Well...it's not much."

He didn't want her to get her hopes up. Because...well, she'd probably be disappointed. He couldn't find much in the wreckage, but he'd certainly looked. And when he reaches into his plating just under his windshield chest...

He pulls out a little miniature pocket dictionary datapad. The screen was slightly cracked, and it was the same size as a regular pocket dictionary in proportion.

"You like reading and...well, this was the most-intact one I could find."

"You got me a book!" Even in her impaired state, a split-second glance at the datapad was enough for her to read the title and reveal it wasn't a very interesting book. Didn't matter. Pushing herself up on an elbow, Nautica snatched it from Trailcutter's hand and flipped through the first few pages.

Yup, that sure was a dictionary in which she probably already knew every word, but her delighted smile didn't dim. Granted, the drugs were fueling it a bit, but as far as Nautica was concerned, it was the thought that mattered. (Unless you were Brainstorm, in which case not building horror weapons into her wrench was what mattered.)

"Thank you, Trailcutter!" With a concerted push, she got herself sitting fully upright--probably not the smartest idea in her current condition, but damn the torpedoes etc.--and threw her arms around his neck in an enthusiastic but not very coordinated hug. "That was so sweet of you."

He didn't expect such a reaction. Even he knew it was a boring book--then again, his frame of reference on 'boring' was much more broad than hers. His visor lights up slightly as she flips through it, the smile on her face giving him the slightest bit of hope.

Yes, Trailcutter. You did good.

But then her arms go around her, and he can feel himself heat up from being flustered. What should he do? Return it? That'd be the polite thing to do, yes. Those arms settle around her, pulling her into the gentlest of bear hugs he can muster.

First Aid, Rodimus, now Nautica. Maybe he'd been too drunk to realize just how well he was treated before now. But if this is what it was like, maybe life wasn't so bad after all.

"Heh, you're welcome. I promise, I'll bring something better next time. ....Not that I want you in the medibay again! Just...you know."

He pulls away to look at her, smiling apologetically.

"I'm not good at this, so....good thing you're not going to remember any of it."

For her part, Nautica wasn't holding back on the hug, but that didn't mean much. She was not a mech built to do much damage. When he started to withdraw, she let him pull out of the embrace without having to peel her arms off his shoulders. "I'm going to remember!" she insisted, indignant that Trailcutter doubted her.

She was totally not going to remember, but that just meant he'd get thanked twice for the gift.

A part of him tries not to chuckle, and he's mostly successful, settling for a smile as he sets her back down on the berth. Ooooh no, Nautica, you're not going to remember a thing. Take it from the ex-expert.

"Okay, okay, you sure told me." When in doubt, agree with them. Because they won't remember that either.

"So you're comfortable? Need any uh...well, anything?"

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