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Chapter 5: I'm not letting you die

His gaze met optics filled with terror one last time before Drift was ripped from his grasp and hauled towards the doorway.

“This is very touching, very sweet… but we've all got places to go, things to do. Don’t worry– I’ll make sure Kaon brings him back soon. Wouldn’t want to keep you two apart.”

Tarn stopped and turned. “Oh, one more thing. Behave yourself this time, will you? You’re going to run out of conscious, functional bots at this rate.” A fusion cannon waved lazily in First Aid’s direction. “At some point I’ll have to just start shooting patients, and nobody wants that. I certainly don’t need that on my conscience."

“Like you even have one.” Ratchet muttered to himself. The tank didn’t seem to hear.

“Or I could always finish the job and check another name off the list. Seems my aim was off the first time.” He didn’t have to gesture this time for the point to come across.

Ratchet didn’t look as they left. He couldn’t. If he saw the expression on Drift’s face again, he feared he’d snap. And he needed to hold it together. Drift needed him to.

Shakily pushing himself off of the slab, his optics darted around the space. There had to be something he could make into a weapon. A weapon… that would stand any chance against a fusion canon. Two fusion canons.

It was still quiet. His mind hovered over the medical override codes for his audial receptors. It would be quick, easy. These codes were only used for extreme cases- where a patient was in exceptional pain in a situation where relief couldn’t be provided and intense focus was needed. To treat them while keeping a level head and without breaking down. Not to be used in standard protocol. 

Ratchet had never actually used the codes like that. It felt like neglect, abandoning them to suffer alone. Not acknowledging their pain.

By all accounts he should use them. He needed to stay calm, come up with a plan. And Drift didn’t want him to hear- he should respect that. But the thought of being blissfully unaware of his suffering made him sick. 

A faint crackle of charge danced through the air and across Ratchet's plating before exploding into a rush of energy that made his hands tingle. Drift shrieked. It was close.

They were right outside the doorway.

Another charge, stronger than the first. Another shriek, shrill and loud and horrible. 

They were right outside. Ratchet grabbed the nearest cart to steady himself. He should've listened to Drift. It was too much. But leaving Drift so that the only ones left hearing his pain being those who enjoyed it made him want to purge. It was clear First Aid already had his hearing purposefully impaired for some time now, given his lack of reaction to anything besides the limp form he was hunched over.

The charges came again and again, barely any pause between them. Knees giving out, Ratchet slid down to the floor. He leaned his helm back on the slab behind him, vents coming quick and shallow. It was too much. 

Flashes of half formed faces consumed his vision. Bludgeon hovering overhead. Memories of his own screams blended with those just outside. Jeering voices celebrating his agony. Ratchet curled in on himself as phantom pains shot up and down his frame. White hot knives slicing energon lines. 

He was having memory purges, the symptoms were obvious. Trying to get his breathing under control only made the vents quicker- sharp, stabbing pains in his chest. Drift’s wheezing and gasping seemed to echo all around. Or was it his own? He couldn't tell anymore.

Just as another charge filled the air, the world around him went abruptly silent. First Aid was crouched down with a cable plugged into his medical port.

“What did you-” Ratchet felt the words leave his throat, but they didn’t reach his audials.

<< You are such an idiot! Why are you doing this to yourself?!>>

<< Take it out First Aid- I need to->>

<< You need to what? Torment yourself?>>

Ratchet reached for the cable, but his hand was swatted away.

<< You can’t help him like this, Ratchet. Get ahold of yourself >>

A firm hand was placed on his heaving chest plate. 

<< You're having a panic attack. You need to breathe >>

<< Yes, great, thank you- I'm well aware of that >>

<< Ratchet- I'm serious. Don't do anything stupid. >> First Aid's hands were on his shoulders now, holding him in place. He glanced around the room before looking back at Ratchet. 

<< Listen… I didn't mention this before because I can't even be sure it'll work- and honestly I'm terrified they'll somehow figure it out >> He leaned in closer as if that would somehow change the fact they were speaking through private comms. 

<< The vaccine. Tarn found out about it. Forced us to treat them along with everybody else when they brought you down. But he doesn't know how the virus is activated. As far as he's concerned, it's only by touch >>

<< Well, all the good that does us now->>

First Aid held up a finger in front of Ratchet’s face. 

<< He also doesn't know… the vaccine he and his creepy friend received were tampered with. I didn't have much time and it was especially difficult with the creep standing over my shoulder the whole time, so I really have no idea what'll happen. Ambulon-… we both took the rigged vaccine in front of them to prove it was ‘the real deal’. We know to not activate our t-cogs and Tarn has no reason to suspect that's even related. We just need to wait for them to transform >>

<< Well I could've been listening for that before you forcibly turned my hearing off->>

The thought occurred to him that he had no idea what was happening to Drift right then and panic built up in his chest again.

First Aid squeezed his shoulders. << Just… don't get your hopes up. I have no idea if I managed to cancel the effects or not. Truthfully, I wasn't going to tell you at all…>> 

He stood up to look back towards where Ambulon was still laying comatose. << I should get back before that freak finds me in your general vicinity and decides to shoot somebody else >>

Taking Ratchet's hands, First Aid tugged him up to his pedes and hesitantly pulled him into a light embrace. 

<<... I'm sorry about your friend. Really. >>

Ratchet only grunted in response, but reached up to place his hands on the other medic’s back in return.

First Aid pulled away after a moment, hand moving to rest on Ratchet’s shoulder. He looked as though he had something else to say, but suddenly froze, gaze locked somewhere behind him.

Ratchet whirled around to find Tarn- with his fusion canon aimed directly at one of the long-term patients. Before either of them could react, the blast had run right through the bot, slab and all. 

First Aid was on them in an instant, completely ignoring the tank still towering over the smoking wreckage.

Tarn shifted his canon- this time at the medic below him. Ratchet scrambled to disable the code First Aid had installed in his systems, his audio feed returning in a fit of static.

“- this one next. It’s very rude to ignore people when they’re speaking to you-”

“Stop! Stop! Don’t!”

The weapon lowered. “Oh, so now you acknowledge me? Only when I threaten the people close to you? That’s understandable. You know, I was going to aim for him first, but you can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself and- well I didn’t want to be down two more medics. I still need you around.”

He stepped closer, hands on his hips. “You know- I’ve thrown a lot of threats around today- it’s hard to keep track of it all. I know the deal for you was to stay put and keep Deadlock alive and everyone here would be spared his eventual gruesome fate, but that doesn’t seem to be enough motivation. So here’s what’s up: One more slip-up. One. And my dear Kaon will get-” A hand waved at First Aid. “- another toy. One more past that? I’ll let him loose on everyone here. I’ll skip shooting your patients, since it seems to hold no significance to you anyway. You on the other hand will continue what you’re doing regardless, until my crew arrives. Your performance from this point on will determine whether you get the privilege of joining Deadlock, or be granted a painless death. And my warning from before still applies. My fellow compatriots will be extremely disappointed if they travel all this way for nothing.”

Tarn sighed and strolled to a slab on the far side of the Medibay, leaning against it. “See, this is why I try to keep my medic on duty at all times. So many threats just to get something simple done. But of course she wanted to go on vacation at a time like this.” 

He made no move to leave this time.

Ratchet was frozen in place. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Any hope of making a weapon… doing something, anything… It was dashed right then and there with Tarn watching his every move. Their optics were locked on each other. Tarn was daring him to do something- to mess up. The silence stretched on for several seconds before his audials picked up a sound.

Sobbing, from the doorway. There was a bundle of white and red in the corner of his vision. Drift was dragging himself through the door, only to promptly get pulled back out with a strangled yelp.

“I think it’s about time you took a break. Let the Doctor fix him up.” Tarn called out, sounding mildly annoyed.

There was a tsk from the hall, and Drift was fully dropped onto the floor.

“...Well, what are you waiting for then? You- come over here and get him.”

Ratchet didn’t move.

Tarn was watching intently. 

When he still didn't move towards the door, the tank walked up to him, clapping. 

“Good job. That was a test. It's too bad you passed, I was hoping you'd step out the door so I could swap him out for your other friend. A shame, really.”

Tarn sat down again, closer this time. “Kaon, push him in here will you?”

There was a screech of metal, and Drift was left barely inside the threshold of the room. Ratchet nearly tripped over himself in his rush over to him. The other bot was still standing in the entrance, looking annoyed. Ratchet tried to sneak a peek for any potential rust on his frame without being noticed. It was difficult to tell, he soon realized, considering this bot had no optics. 

“Ratchet?”

Drift looked up at him, optics wide and unfocused.

“...Ratche-?”

“Hey. Shhh. I'm right here. I've got you.”

Ratchet carefully lifted him up, now able to feel Drift’s whole frame shudder with each wheezing vent in his arms. Gently tucking Drift’s helm against his chest, he made his way to the medical berth he had used previously while pointedly avoiding notice of the gaze following his every move. 

The speedster protested slightly at being removed from Ratchet’s arms and laid out onto the berth. He glanced around blankly, in a daze and disoriented. 

The damage looked to be more severe this time around. Smoke wafted from joint seams and the distinct scent of fried circuitry met his olfactory sensors. Ratchet wasted no time hooking him up to the equipment he prepared.

“It hurts.” Drift’s voice was ragged and quiet when he got the words out.

“Shhh. I know.” Ratchet rubbed the tear tracks from his faceplate. “…Alright, Drift. I’m going to have to put you under again-”

“No!” He snapped out of his haze, replaced now with an air of panic. “Don’t- don’t put me in stasis. I want to stay awake.”

“You’re in a lot of pain. These blockers will only do so much now with the amount of damage you’ve taken-”

“It really- it doesn't hurt that much-"

"You just said it did."

"I don’t want to be alone. Please. Let me stay awake. With you."

Ratchet stopped short with his reply of ‘I’m not going anywhere’ as he realized why Drift was so afraid of going to sleep: Waking back up.

“...Fine.”

---

Ratchet’s hands shook underneath Drift’s plating. The circuitry repair was far more extensive now and he held onto the hope that Drift was too out of it to notice how he had been struggling with the same set of wires for an excessive amount of time. The unwavering confidence that Ratchet was more than capable of repairing him was most definitely misplaced. Maybe a younger version of himself was worthy of that- even just by a few months. But now? The form deterioration had reached the point he could barely perform the most basic of tasks with his hands. The injuries Drift had sustained were yet to be fatal, but that wouldn't be the case for much longer.

“...Ratchet.” His name was spoken so faintly, he nearly missed it.

“If you ask me what I think you’re going to ask me- you’d better fragging not be.”

“I’m not- I’m not going to do that.” He shifted slightly on the slab, and Ratchet held out a hand to still him.

“I was going to ask about Pipes. Is he…?”

“He’s doing just fine. No more rust sickness. Just in recharge.” He held back the urge to gesture in Pipes’ direction, fully aware that someone else was watching and didn’t need that information. He only hoped that Pipes had been put in a medically induced stasis. He did not need to be conscious and aware in this situation.

“That’s good…”

The tool slipped in Ratchet's hand and clipped a wire. Drift winced.

"-Sorry."

"He was excited for this."

"What?"

"Pipes. He was really looking forward to seeing a new planet. I invited him along. Figured I could keep both of you safe. Great plan that was."

"Drift, none of us could have known this would happen."

"No. I should have. I was stupid."

"Well, I'm not going to argue with you on that last point, but I need you to stop talking for a bit. I've got to work on the area near your vocalizer now- Don't give me that look, you were the one who said it, not me. Now hush up."

Ratchet placed a hand on Drift's arm and the other bot conceded, laying back down fully and looking off to the side. Pointedly in the opposite direction of the mech Ratchet was trying to pretend wasn't there. Turning around under the ruse of grabbing a tool from his stash of medical equipment, Ratchet caught sight of First Aid, pulling a tarp over the patient Tarn had shot. They didn't pull through. He squeezed the wrench in his hand, turning back to face Drift. This had to end.

«… First Aid, you there? »

---

« You sure you wanna do this, Ratchet? »

Ratchet glanced down at Drift, who had gone still for some time, staring blankly at the ceiling. There was an unreadable expression on his face.

« I have to. I'll handle it, Aid. You just be ready for your part once I give you the signal »

« If you give the signal, you mean »

Ratchet was about to snark back at him, when he sensed Drift stirring and testing his vocalizer.

"Ratchet? Ratchet… I need to talk to you." There was panic in his voice.

"Dri-"

Something was approaching from behind. Tarn was standing beside him, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned over Drift, who had gone completely rigid and wide-eyed, peering across his frame.

“And how are we doing, Doctor? Repairs going well?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine.” Ratchet hissed. He didn’t move his optics, keeping them locked in place.

“Good. I was getting a little worried- with all your shaking and whatnot.” A claw was placed on Ratchet's shoulder. It squeezed lightly. “I’m just stopping by to remind you to start wrapping it up. Unless you’ve gone and forgotten about your time limit?”

“…Of course not.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll be back in 10 minutes.” 

Ratchet clutched the sides of the slab. He wasn’t even close to being done.

“Oh Primus. I can’t. Ratchet. I don't think I can do this.”

Drift was hyperventilating.

Ratchet grabbed hold of his hands and looked him right in the optics. “You can do this, Drift. I need you to get through this. I’ve seen you pull through injuries way worse than these. This is nothing.”

“No-no I can't. I keep seeing it. Over and over. It won't stop. They're going to-” Coolant built up around his optics. “I can’t-”

“Yes you can. I know you can.”

He knew that was a load of scrap, but didn’t know what else he could say.

“So now you’re going to hug, right?” The energon in his lines ran cold. That was a new voice.

“Don’t mind me- Tarn was just telling me about the ‘Autobot Doc hugger’. Go on. Pretend I’m not here.”

Drift was near hysterics.

“Oh, come on- I’m not even going to hurt you- Can you tell him to get a grip? He’s apparently ‘off limits’ until everyone else gets here. Lame by the way- Kaon gets to have fun with him.”

“Because Kaon doesn't have the nasty habit of removing brain modules and placing them in people's mouths, Helex. Do you know how many of our targets have had their punishment ended far sooner than intended from them biting down on it?”

A choked sob came from below him.

Tarn strolled up to the large bot stuck halfway through the doorway, unable to fit his whole frame through. 

“I thought I told you to stay outside-”

“Yeah yeah, sick people- I know. I didn't touch anybody. I'll leave in a minute. I just wanted to see-” He gestured with one of the tiny arms sticking from his chest in Ratchet's direction. “- you know. Go ahead and do it.”

Both bots looked back at Ratchet expectantly. He felt sick.

Hesitantly wrapping his hands around Drift's back, Ratchet pulled him up into his chest. He tucked Drift's face into his shoulder in an attempt to shield him from the prying optics behind them. Drift pressed himself into the embrace as much as he could, and for a brief moment it felt like it was just the two of them, and not the sick entertainment they were being used for.

"Aww, that's sweet. You guys sparkmates or something? …No? That's too bad, would've made this more fun."

"Well, if you're done watching them cuddle, I'd like to get back to what I was doing."

"Kaon c'mon, we were in the middle of something."

The optic-less bot came up behind him. Ratchet held on tighter.

"I'd like a favor actually- get those cuffs off him for me. I can't use my alt-mode if his hands aren't free."

He felt Drift tense. His spark twisted. This was possibly the only chance to test the effectiveness of First Aid's dummy vaccine. Not that he had much of a choice either way.

One more slip-up.

"I'm sorry, Drift." Ratchet could barely hear himself whisper. "I'm sorry…"

He pulled away slowly, grabbing the tools he had previously prepared in the event they decided to make a break for it. Drift kept his gaze fixed on Ratchet's shoulder as he worked. The cuffs clanked to the ground, and for a moment it looked as though Drift would bolt. His hands instinctively twitched towards his waist, where the sword scabbards had been ripped off.

An arm slung over Ratchet's shoulder. Tarn pulled him close and the point of contact made his plating crawl. The silent warning got through and Drift let his arms fall numbly to his sides. He allowed himself to be yanked off the slab, stumbling as his pedes hit the ground and he clutched his side. The repairs weren't done. Ratchet wanted to plead for them to let him finish. But he knew it was already too late.

He found himself moving forward. Tarn was walking Ratchet over to where they had Drift. There was the sound of a transformation cog activating. To his horror, Ratchet realized that they weren't going to leave the Medibay this time. He kept his sight fixed on the floor, not wanting to have the image of whatever the slag Kaon turned into burned in his processor. That resolve didn't last long however as he heard a snap followed by a horrified wail.

"There we go."

Ratchet looked up in time to see an arm drop the broken finial to the ground with a clatter, transforming back into the armrest of the seat Drift was strapped to. The round contraption at the top of the headrest came down on Drift's helm, sitting lopsided on the jagged stump leaking energon down his face.

"Hmm no. Still not fitting right. How do you do anything with those giant things on your head? Seems very inconvenient."

Drift didn't respond, only clenching and opening his fists repeatedly. His optics were squeezed shut.

"Do you really need that? I thought Tarn wanted him 'coherent' when you're done with him. You're gonna fry his brains out." It was then Ratchet noticed that the huge mech was still in the doorway.

"That's true, I did say that." Tarn's arm shifted off his shoulders.

Ratchet had to hold himself back from sprinting over and clawing Drift out of that chair, consequences be damned. He knew that would only make the situation worse in the end.

"You should let me have him for a while Tarn, Kaon's had him plenty."

"You're only saying that because you want his brain for your messed up games."

"Maybe I do?"

The casual, jeering banter made his tanks roll and Ratchet had to will himself not to purge right then and there.

Drift's breathing picked up several paces and he looked up, locking optics with Ratchet, who was barely keeping himself upright at this point.

« Ratchet, look away. Please… don't look at me »

"Drift…?"

Drift's gaze flicked to somewhere behind Ratchet, optics wide. Pipes was online.

Ratchet froze. « Pipes. Don't talk. Don't move »

« Ratchet…? Ratchet, what's going on? Why is Drift- oh Primus… is that-»

« Optics off now, Pipes. Don't panic. Don't get up. I'm going to make my way over to you »

Making sure they were still distracted talking among themselves, Ratchet backed away slowly to the berth Pipes was sitting up on with the cable already in hand.

Pipes was panicking. « No, wait- Ratchet, seriously what's going on? What are they doing to Drift? Are they gonna kill him? »

« …No one's going to die. You need to go back to sleep »

« But isn't that the DJD-?! »

"-fine, you can have him Helex… after I'm finished." Kaon was going to start again.

Ratchet hastily plugged the cable into Pipes' medical port right as a scream ripped from Drift's vocalizer.

« Drift?! » Pipes grabbed onto Ratchet, shaking uncontrollably. « Oh Primus… oh Primus… »

The code to put Pipes in forced medical stasis kept failing and Ratchet was past his limit for what he could handle. He disabled Pipes' audio receptors and wrapped his arms around the minibot tightly as he shivered, keeping him from looking back at Drift.

« Primus… Ratchet… they're gonna kill him… he's gonna die… I don't want him to die…»

Another agonizing scream had Ratchet holding Pipes tighter. Beads of coolant formed in the corners of his optics, threatening to spill over. It was all just too much.

« I won't let him die… I promise… I won't…»

---

Ratchet didn't notice when the screaming stopped.

"Aww look, he's doing it again. Big ol softie… what's his name?"

Pipes gripped Ratchet hard as one of them walked up. Ratchet looked up right as Drift was deposited on the ground beside them, smoke billowing out of his joints.

"I might've gone a little overboard there. But that shouldn't be a problem for a doctor of your caliber, right?"

« Drift… Oh Drift… Ratchet, is he-? »

« Pipes, I need you to stay here. I'm going to fix him up, alright? He's going to be okay. But I need you to stay put. Please »

Pipes nodded, releasing his hold on Ratchet.

The damage was extensive. Drift was barely coherent, not yet having spoken a word. Ratchet worked furiously to stabilize him but his hands wouldn't cooperate. Coolant filled his optics again, blurring his vision. He wasn't going to be able to fix him this time. "Dammit…"

"…Please…"

"Drift?" Ratchet quickly wiped his optics and crouched by the head of the slab.

"No more… not again…"

Ratchet took his hand. "You're with me now. I'm going to fix you. Just hang on." It was getting harder to offer any sort of comfort. Not when they both knew what would happen again shortly.

"No… they're going to come back… I can't… I can't…"

Ratchet cupped the side of Drift's face with his hand. He didn't say anything. There was nothing he could say.

Tears streamed down Drift's face, mixing with the residual energon that hadn't been fully cleaned off. He reached up and tentatively touched the stump on his helm, now covered in mesh gauze.

"I'm sorry… I did what I could for now." He placed the broken finial in Drift's hand. "It can be re-attached, but it needs time to heal properly… and I worry those freaks will just rip it off again.

Drift's hand clenched around the finial. He had a desperate look in his optics. Like he wanted to die.

"So help me Drift, if I hear one-" His vocalizer started to tremble. "…if I hear one word out of you about- about killing you, I will put you in stasis right now."

"You don't… need to have that burden… Ratchet…"

The hand gripping the finial raised up shakily, the sharp end pointed at his spark.

Ratchet grabbed Drift's wrist so hard he nearly snapped it. "What are you doing?!"

The finial dropped to the floor, but he still held tight to Drift's wrist.

"I can't… Just let me die… please-"

"Shut up. Just. Please." He took Drift's other hand, much less tightly this time.

"I'm not letting you die. I'm not."

"Having some trouble with him? I could chain him to the berth for you, so he doesn't get tempted to take the easy way out again."

Drift was hyperventilating again. Something in Ratchet snapped.

"Get away from him. Right. Now."

Back-talk was most definitely not a good idea, but Ratchet was way past done with playing nice. Especially with the one who was responsible for Drift's condition.

…His condition that Ratchet wouldn't be able to fix. Which meant he needed to act now. The patch of rust he spotted in the bot's arm joint as Kaon walked up beside him had spread enough that he would certainly notice it soon. And once that happened, it would be obvious to all of them that the vaccine was tampered with.

"Hey, I thought I was gonna get him after you were done."

"Brain modules are off limits, Helex."

"I know, I know. Just gonna let him cook for a bit. -Low heat this time Tarn, I promise."

A torrent of rage welled up in his spark. This had to end. Now. He pushed away from the slab.

« I'm sorry, Drift. I'm about to do something really stupid »

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