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Chapter 10: Fate can't be avoided

Ratchet's hands trembled on the controls.

Why was he still so shaken up over Drift's words? Whether there was any truth to them, it wouldn't change the fact that the DJD were dead. Even if… there were no reports of their bodies found at Delphi. There was no way they would've survived. They were dead, that was the end of it. Any remaining members wouldn't have anything to connect Drift to what went down.

It was a knee-jerk response. That's all. He only wished he hadn't left like he did. It wasn't Drift's fault he didn't remember.

Maybe Ratchet was more affected by the situation that he would've liked to admit. But this wasn't about him.

Drift had gone quiet. Ratchet glanced back at him, only remembering now that he had left Drift sitting on the floor. Slag. Where was his processor lately? His lack of recharge was really starting to show, but with Drift being unconscious more often than not, that didn't leave him much choice.

There was a distant, blank look in Drift's optics. He was going to pass out again. Stumbling in his rush over, Ratchet barely managed to catch Drift before his helm could hit anything.

Ratchet released a vent as he slid the rest of the way down the wall next to Drift, leaning him against his side. "What am I going to do with you…"

Anything but be honest with him, apparently.

Drift was upset with him. He had every right to be.

This wasn't like Ratchet. To hide the truth. It had never been a problem before, delivering bad news to his patients. Not fun, but necessary. But for some reason it was different now. He couldn't bring himself to tell Drift.

There had been fear in his optics. Drift was terrified. Losing a part of himself like that. Ratchet felt so stupid for not realizing sooner. Of course he was scared. The identity Drift built up for himself was important to him… possibly the most important thing to him, and he ran the risk of losing it.

In truth, they had seen multiple people already, only one of which seemed to have anything to say on Drift's condition. Unfortunately the only solution they thought to offer was mercy killing, which they made the mistake of attempting. Drift made quick work of them, against Ratchet's better judgment. He was still far too weak to be pulling scrap like that so soon. Which was proven when Drift fainted immediately after.

It was happening more and more frequently, which only backed up what that bot had said.

That bot didn't scare him. It didn't matter how spooked Drift looked at their words. They didn't know what they were on about. It was all some ridiculous mystical garbage. He needed to find someone rooted in science. Rational thought. Reason.

The autopilot dinged. Two hours to go. Ratchet turned his attention back to Drift. His circulation was no good huddled up against the wall like that. Ratchet carefully laid him out on the floor, letting Drift's helm rest in his lap. It was disturbing how much of their time spent together on the shuttle had been spent like this- with Drift unconscious, trapped in his own head.

Ratchet brushed his hand across Drift's brow. "I'm sorry…"

Soon. They'd have answers soon.

---

Drift still hadn't come back online when they arrived.

A message had already been sent ahead of their arrival, details kept vague, but they should have the gist of it. It felt wrong to bring Drift when he wasn't fully conscious and aware, he wouldn't want to wake up panicked and confused around a bunch of strangers. But nothing Ratchet did seemed to wake him and he was starting to get concerned. It had been hours. The longest yet. Still, Ratchet decided to wait a bit longer. With how little control Drift had over his life the past few weeks, he deserved to have this much at least.

Another incoming message from Froid. He was eager to see Drift...too eager. Ratchet responded once again, stating that Drift was offline and they would meet up when he woke up.

A bit late to be having second thoughts, but Ratchet seriously considered calling it off. Meeting in the middle of nowhere? Some backwater tourist planet? Especially strange given this guy was Cybertronian. And fairly well known in his field. A field that was sorely lacking, unfortunately. Which also meant their options were limited if they wanted to find someone familiar with their specific biology.

They could always leave and go find some other nut job spouting nonsense about prophetic visions and magic.

Proximity sensors went off. A knock on the outside of the shuttle. Seriously?

A quick check of the security feed and sure enough, it appeared as though the bot named Froid was standing outside the entrance of their shuttle. Ratchet considered taking off right then and there. A so-called health professional of any kind that didn't respect basic patient privacy? Absolutely not.

Still… they were running out of options and Drift only seemed to get worse by the day.

May as well go hear him out. Best case scenario Ratchet would get to chew this aft out for inappropriate behavior. Worst case… well, he had his blaster loaded and ready. Not that he expected much of a fight. What he could see of this Froid, he was a spindly, frail little thing. And nosy too. Ratchet was fortunate he thought to move Drift back into the berthroom, out of sight, considering this gearstick thought he could just peek through the glass at the front. Enough was enough.

With a sigh, Ratchet hit the release on the entrance, lowering the walkway. No hesitation this bot was already making his way inside.

"Yeah, no. That was not an invitation for you to come inside. I don't know if you even read my seven messages informing you that we weren't ready yet," Ratchet held up a hand, blocking Froid from coming up any further. "But we are in fact, not ready yet. So this had better be an apology for overstepping patient boundaries, or we will be leaving immediately."

"Ah, so sorry!" The bot held his hands up placatingly. "After the urgency of your initial message, I assumed you would want me to see Drift straight away, with how dire his condition is."

Ratchet crossed his arms. He couldn't get a read on this guy.

"His situation is hardly good, but he's not dying. You could at least have the decency to wait until he's conscious."

"No, no I understand. Why don't we sit down over a glass of engex while we wait, then? Discuss his symptoms, treatment, all that." When Ratchet didn't immediately object, Froid walked right on past him, making himself at home.

Deep vents. Fine. It was fine. Ratchet could put up with this. This was for Drift.

As far as threats went, this Froid just seemed overly pushy, lacking social awareness, and full of himself. Not necessarily a danger. Still, Ratchet kept a hand near his blaster.

"Here?" Where did this guy even come from? Ratchet didn't see a ship that could be his nearby. He had landed just outside the boarding docks, some distance from the other spacecraft. Specifically for the purpose of privacy.

"Well, you weren't planning on just leaving your unconscious friend alone, were you?"

Ratchet pinched his nasal ridge. Whatever. It was fine. He reached for the box storing their spare drinking glasses.

"Oh, no need! I brought some." Ratchet looked back to find Froid pulling a container of engex and two glasses from his subspace. He hesitantly accepted the glass as he sat down at the head of the shuttle across the other bot.

"So. Sounds like your friend's going through the works. Intense nightmares, memory loss, fainting? And you're sure this is different from a normal trauma response?"

Ratchet watched the other bot as he held the glass up to his mouth before taking a sip of his own drink. At least, he assumed that was a mouth. "…I don't know."

He would be the first to admit he knew next to nothing about handling trauma. By the Pit he certainly had his own share of it, not that he's done scrap about it. Plenty of his patients over the years exhibited symptoms of anxiety and nightmares, even repressed memories. And there wasn't much he could do for them. It wasn't until boarding the Lost Light, Ratchet had started sending them Rung's way. For a species that lived as long as they did, Cybertronians weren't very adept at dealing with matters of the mind.

But this… this was different somehow.

"By your description, it almost sounds like he's been having visions." Froid absently touched the Primal Beads hanging around his neck.

Oh great. Another religious type. Then again… maybe that would help him better connect to Drift.

"That's what he calls it, yes. I suspect it just falls under the nightmare category though. Although he claims they're different, and that he's been having both." Ratchet rubbed the back of his neck. "Except he can't seem to tell them apart or even what's a memory and what's not anymore. This was before he started rapidly forgetting everything though." It was getting difficult to focus. Ratchet set the drink down. "Lately I… I really don't know what's going on in his head. I don't think he does either."

"Right. And this started after the traumatic incident he went through, correct?"

Ratchet scoffed. Traumatic incident.

"Well… he did mention that the disturbing 'visions' had started before we even arrived, and that they were what caused him to go in the first place." Ratchet felt as though he were saying too much without Drift's input, but couldn't seem to stop.

Froid tapped a pen on his datapad. "Interesting. So looking back at the information you gave me… his head is just a big soup of nightmares that his processor equates to memories before forcing him to forget and starting the whole process over. And on top of that he's some sort of psychic that can see endless futures?"

For a moment there Ratchet had really thought maybe he had found someone that wasn't a nut job, but apparently that was too much to ask.

"A what now?"

Froid paid no mind to him, typing something into the datapad. "Perfect."

This was getting weird. This guy needed to go.

A scream from the back room had Ratchet bolting up. He had forgotten about Drift. The other bot apparently took that as an invitation to join him. Absolutely not. Ratchet stepped in front of him, blocking the doorway.

"Just- stay out here. He's only having a nightmare. I'll take care of it." Ratchet didn't bother to listen for a response as he slipped in the room and hit the controls to shut the door. He'd see Froid out after this. Hopefully he had the decency at least to stay out.

"Drift?" Optics scanned the room for him, adjusting to the light.

Drift had his helm in his hands, gripping it tightly and shaking on the berth. Ratchet's spark ached. He should've been there. Making his way over as quickly as he could, Ratchet lost his balance, stumbling into the berth. No reaction from Drift- he must've still been offline. Ratchet couldn't seem to pull himself back up, all he could do was stroke Drift's side gently, hoping the mech would wake soon. Drift only curled in on himself even more, hardly making a sound. Arms suddenly wrapped tightly around his abdomen as he grimaced, optics still shuttered.

"Drift…? Drift, you need to wake up. It's okay, you're safe."

Drift's face contorted more and more in silent agony, whole frame flinching as though being struck repeatedly. Excruciating pain pulsed through Drift's EM field, despite Ratchet's scanners not picking up any sort of injury. There was nothing he could treat, no way to relieve it.

"Drift, come on… Please wake up," Ratchet felt himself getting desperate. This was a really bad one. He tried shaking Drift awake, but that only caused him to violently flinch and cry out at the contact. This wasn't like the prior nightmares. Not a reaction like this, a visceral reaction. As if he were being actively hurt right then and there.

Ratchet twitched, his hand hovered over his blaster. If the sound of the door hissing open didn't tell him that this aft just flat out ignored his instructions, then he'd have felt Froid's optics boring right through the back of his helm. No offer to help, no panic or concern-just staring. It was unnerving.

A pained scream from Drift ripped Ratchet's attention right back.

Hands desperately clawed at his abdomen, as if Drift were trying to pull something out of himself. His vents quickened, staggering as fingers pried his own armor. Drift was going to hurt himself at this rate. Ratchet tried to pull his hands away before Drift could rip his plating off, but his grip was too strong.

"Fascinating. And he usually has no memory of this when he wakes up?"

The blaster was already aimed straight at Froid's helm. "I don't know what your deal is, but I suggest you take your leave now. We'll get help elsewhere." Whether this bot had truly intended to help or not was beyond Ratchet at this point. All that mattered was he felt the need to stomp all over Drift's privacy and that was unacceptable. To barge in when he was so vulnerable and the only thing this guy thought to say was 'fascinating'?

Froid ignored him, seemingly unfazed by the blaster pointed at him, and strolled up to Drift, who had already managed to pull some of his plating back.

"Back off. I'm serious- I will shoot."

"Mmm I don't think you will. Just look at that aim. Getting senile in your old age?"

The blaster tipped down at the floor, arm shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't lift it back up.

Froid leaned down to peer at Drift. "Wow your friend is really messed up, isn't he? I honestly couldn't tell you what's going on with him. But I'm willing to bet he's got plenty of locked up memories stored in there."

Ratchet tried to get up, but the room spun around him, shapes going in and out of focus. He was poisoned. That gearstick poisoned his drink. He had been too careless.

"Thanks for giving me a call. I'm always on the look out for special cases like these. You can tell- they're always so desperate. The visions are new to me though. But if what you say is true, he might just be a jackpot. The more disturbing the memories, the better. Even if they're not actually memories, as long as the processor thinks they are, that's good enough. Not to mention the taste. Supposedly it's unrivaled. At least that's what my good friend says." The Primal Beads around his neck glistened as he flicked them. "Hasn't had a good meal in a while. I'm not sure I can hold him back anymore. Hopefully this one lasts longer than the last jackpot we found. Poor guy."

"No… stay away from him…" Limbs heavy and unresponsive- Ratchet couldn't pull himself off the floor.

"Ratchet, was it? Maybe trust your instincts next time. So much for all that talk of 'sharp as a tack Hatchet'. Must be losing it."

Darkness clouded the edges of Ratchet's visual feed. Froid hovered over Drift. He was going to take Drift. Not again. Not again-

"Fate can't be avoided. It will come to pass one way or another. That he keeps seeing it only guarantees it. The more you fight it, the more suffering will be brought on you." A knife slid out beneath the bot's cloak. "There's only one way to save you from that. I am deeply sorry."

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