His helm was throbbing. The familiar, sterile scent of disinfectant and bright lights overwhelmed his senses as he came online. For a moment Ratchet figured he must’ve dozed off at his desk again. Then it hit him. Delphi. Pharma. Rust sickness.
A firm, steady hand came down over his own, and he realized absently that it was the hand on the arm that had fallen off being grasped right then.
<< Ratchet. Oh, thank Primus…>>
First Aid was standing over him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, a small tremble occasionally passing through his hand still firmly holding Ratchet’s. Finding that he was actually able to move his fingers properly again, Ratchet squeezed back reassuringly.
<<Hey, I’m alright now. You did good, kid >>
He was alright. He was alive. It was only a dream. A terrible, horrible dream, but just that. Despite this, he still found himself hesitating before speaking again.
<< And Drift? He was up there with me >>
A flinch.
<< You both have made full system recoveries. He’s resting in another room right now >>
His optics didn’t quite meet Ratchet's when he answered.
<< Thanks to the vaccine you recovered, we managed to stabilize most of the patients currently suffering from the effects of the virus. We’re working on synthesizing a large enough dose for Fort Max. I’m positive my spark resuscitation method will work, but he deserves to come back online in a less… stressful environment >>
<<Your other friend has yet to wake up, but he’s recovering very nicely >>
Pipes. He couldn’t get a clear view of the small bot due to Ambulon hovering over him, but from what he could see it was clear he was faring much better, no longer covered helm to pede in rust. Good.
Looking down at his own frame, he could see his own, mostly rust free plating. There were still spots where the paint had bubbled and chipped off.
<< Wait, so you found the vaccine- >>
<< Yes. In your subspace. Thankfully it hadn’t been damaged >>
So First Aid had received his message. The thought tugged at his processor in a way that didn’t seem right.
First Aid’s hands were trembling more steadily now. And it was then Ratchet belatedly took notice that the medic had been rearranging the same cart of supplies for the past 10 minutes.
Despite how he had handled the situation admirably, it was all too obvious the stress was really starting to get to him.
<< You’ve done enough, First Aid. Go rest now. I’ll take over from here >>
A hand shot to his chest, firmly pushing him back down from where he had moved to sit up.
<< No! -no, you need rest. Your systems are still calibrating to the repairs. I’m fine really, I promise >>
Ratchet grumbled, but conceded anyway, laying back against the slab.
<< Aid. Tell me something >>
He looked up from his cart of supplies. <<Yes?>>
<< Why have we been speaking through comms this whole time?>>
A pause. << Your audial receptors are still adapting to your frame. It will take some time before->>
<< I’ve been doing this for millions of years, First Aid. I can see the medical override protocols enabled. Internal scans show my audials are perfectly fine >>
<< Still, I feel it’s best to let them rest for now. I still need to run some more tests- >>
He was a terrible liar.
<< They’ve rested plenty. There’s no need for them to be off now->>
<<No!>>
An iron grip took hold of his arms, stopping him before he could force through the override on his system. First Aid was shaking in earnest now.
<< It's best if- it's best if you leave them off. Please >>
The reaction- or rather, lack of reaction- to the now toppled over supply cart told him he likely wasn't the only one with his audials disabled.
Ratchet eased out of the death grip.
<< Aid. You're overwhelmed and stressed. I need you to calm down. And then I need you to tell me what's going on >>
Ratchet tried to look to Ambulon for assistance, but he was still fussing wordlessly over the other patients, head tucked down and avoiding his gaze.
First Aid ran his hands up and down his arms, shifting from one leg to the other. He looked to be just moments from a total breakdown.
<< Your friend. He's in… a lot of pain right now. I don't think you should hear it >>
Ratchet furrowed his optical ridge. He couldn't mean Pipes. Drift?
<<What do you mean “in a lot of pain”? I thought you said he made a full recovery?>>
He didn’t respond. Something about this was very wrong.
<< If he’s in so much pain that you won’t let me hear it, why in the Pit has he been left alone?>>
<< I can’t do this… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… >> First Aid’s face was buried in his hands, trembling worse by the second.
Enough was enough. Ratchet began the process of disengaging the override on his audials. First Aid didn’t try to stop him.
The whirring equipment of the Medibay hit in a sudden rush. Droning beeps from a life support machine to his right. No noise from Drift. Huffing, he pulled himself off the recharge slab and headed for the door. If neither of the medics planned on showing him where one of their patients was , then he’d figure it out himself.
A piercing shriek from down the hall stopped Ratchet in his tracks. It sounded an awful lot like Drift.
Spinning around furiously, Ratchet reached for the nearest med kit in his line of sight and stuffed several pain blockers inside. First Aid tried to grab onto his arms, but he shook him off angrily and stomped towards the doorway.
“What are you doing?!” Two sets of arms yanked him back this time. Ambulon apparently decided to acknowledge his presence.
Ratchet sputtered. “What am I doing? How about you? This is willful neglect of a patient-”
Another scream cut him off. His spark twisted. This couldn’t be from the rust virus. Something was very wrong.
“Get off of me-!”
They only held on tighter, dragging him backwards and pushing him down to sit on a nearby slab.
“Ratchet- no! Ratchet, listen to me-” Ambulon pushed him back down as he tried to get up, both of them blocking his view of the doorway.
“You’re going to get us all killed if you go out there.”
A loud wail from what was most certainly Drift had First Aid clutching his helm again.
“Aid, you said you had it handled- did you seriously not tell him-?”
“Tell me what?” Ratchet snapped, patience having long gone .
The other medic could only shake, his face buried in his hands.
“Ratchet, you brought an ex-Con like him to fragging planet DJD - what did you expect to happen-?!”
It hadn’t been a dream.
He barrelled his way through them- only to find himself tackled to the floor moments later with Ambulon holding him down.
“ Ratchet, I'm serious-! You can’t go out there! They will kill you. They will kill us and every single patient in here. And it won’t be quick, they were explicitly clear on that.”
“So you’re fine just leaving him like this?”
“I’m not putting the rest of my patients in danger over Deadlock -”
A sharp scowl from Ratchet made Ambulon’s expression fall and he looked away. “Look… I’m sorry, Ratchet. There was really nothing we could do. He insisted on them taking him and leaving the rest of us. That’s not exactly an offer the DJD is known for taking.”
Of course that's what he did. Stupid idiot.
They both looked up sharply as their attention was drawn to a sudden commotion from outside the room. Shuffling pedesteps and squeals of metal scraping against the ground grew louder as it approached.
Ratchet scrambled to his pedes just in time to see Tarn stroll through the doorway. Drift was dragging limply behind him, pulled across the floor by the cuffs on his wrists.
“Doctor. Nice to see you’re feeling better.”
Processor blanking, Ratchet could only stare in shock as Tarn continued towards him.
“I need you to do a little favor for me.” The large mech stopped at the recharge slab next to him- dumping Drift face down onto it.
“We’re all busy mechs here, I’m sure you’re well aware of that. We at the Justice Division have a very strict schedule to uphold. But sometimes exceptions just have to be made. Only a select few get that special treatment,” He reached down to pet a white finial. Drift didn’t move.
“This was a lovely surprise, but unfortunately, a good number of our ranks are out on personal business at the moment. And it is very important that Deadlock gets his full punishment. As it happens, Kaon gets a little… excitable with our quarry and I really need Deadlock alive and coherent when the time comes for him to get his comeuppance. And you know, I really can’t stop Kaon from indulging himself, not with how long we’ve been searching for this one.”
Tarn leaned in close. “So I’d really appreciate it if you could do a bit of upkeep on him, fix him up every so often. At least until we’re able to punish him properly. You can do that for me, can’t you?”
Ratchet was on the floor, heaving painfully. When did he get on the floor-?
“Your friend here begged for your life and seeing as my own medic is out right now, I’m willing to cut you a deal. You get one hour- if he dies, so does everyone else here. And don’t think it’ll be nearly as pleasant .”
A ragged cry crackled out of his vocalizer, his spark stabbed with knives as Ratchet curled in on himself.
“You said… you wouldn’t…”
Tarn hummed quietly to himself as he turned his attention back to Drift, weakly pushing up off the slab.
“Don't you worry, that was just some encouragement to keep him on task. I’m not the sort of mech to break promises .”
Shuffling pedes passed by Ratchet, still trying to collect himself on the floor, before slinking back out the door and leaving the room in silence.
I apologize for the shortish chapters lol I find it flows better for me writing 1-2k words