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Chapter 9: I'm messed up

Drift woke up gasping.

A heavy weight in his chest, drowning him in a feeling of dread. From what, he didn't know.

It was dark. Too dark.

"Drift…? You okay in there?" A muffled voice coming from… somewhere. Where was he?

Light invaded the space.

"Drift?!"

Hands on his frame. That's right. Ratchet. The shuttle.

The sudden light made his processor swim. Drift reset his optics several times to adjust to the blurry blob hovering over him.

"…Hey Ratch. Morning." Primus, he sounded awful.

"Don't 'Hey Ratch' me. What happened?"

Drift didn't understand why Ratchet looked so… concerned. The occasional nightmare wasn't anything to get worked up over. It's not out of the ordinary. For him, at least.

"I was sleeping…? What's the problem?"

That's what he was doing, right? He came in the back room to get some recharge. Ratchet had bugged him enough about it, that he could remember.

"Right. And that's why you're laying on the floor when there's a perfectly good berth on the other side of the room."

"Have you considered I'm right where I want to be, Ratchet?"

Slag. He never made it to the berth. That was embarrassing.

"Like the Pit you are. Up you go." Drift found Ratchet's arms heaving him up, carrying him to the berth.

"I can walk. It's only a few feet." He didn't need to be carried around like a purse just from passing out a few times.

"Again- let's remember where I found you. The floor."

Drift tried to get out of his grasp. "At least take me to the pilot chair. It's my turn to man the controls."

"Like hell I'm letting the bot who keeps fainting at the drop of a hat drive the shuttle through deep space."

Ratchet passed through the doorway despite his own words. "But I would feel better having you in sight."

Drift huffed, crossing his arms. It was difficult to show his annoyance while being carried bridal style through such a cramped space.

Though, he had to admit… he kind of liked it.

He was set down carefully in the passenger seat of the shuttle. Ratchet kept checking him, looking him over for injuries. Drift batted his hands away. "I'm fine, Ratchet. Really. You worry too much. It was just a little fall."

"Right, and do you even remember falling?"

"…"

Ratchet plopped down in the pilot's chair, pointing at Drift. "Anything hurts, anything at all- I'm serious Drift- you tell me. Falls are no joke." He pulled up their flight course on the screen. "Especially when it happens a dozen times in the span of three days."

"Not like I could get any more fragged up than I already am. If falling and bumping my helm a few times screws me up this much, I might just be a lost cause."

Ratchet had that look on his face again. "Drift… we talked about this."

"Really? Because you keep saying that, and I have no recollection of it. I don't even know why we're out here in the first place. All I remember is telling you I wanted to go with you. So clearly I knew then. But…"

Hands wrung in his lap. Drift couldn't take his gaze off them. He hated this feeling. Not even knowing what he had wanted, even just a few short days ago. As if he didn't even know himself. Usually he could look inwards. Meditate. Wing had taught him how to dwell in his own mind, self reflect. Even if that just ended with him…better masking his problems.

But now… Drift tried escaping to the recesses of his mind and saw nothing but a void filled with horrors. Promises of a future he hoped would never pass. It terrified him. There was barely any of him left to see.

Is that why Ratchet brought him out here?

"I'm messed up. There's something wrong with me, isn't there? I know there is- you're being way too nice to me. You only do that when I'm sick."

Ratchet looked exhausted, as if he'd had this same conversation multiple times. "You're not messed up-"

"You keep saying that too. Clearly I am. Fainting? Memory loss? How much have I even lost at this point?"

Ratchet didn't answer.

"What if I lose even more?" Drift gripped the armrests. "What if I forget my time on the Lost Light? And with you? What then?"

That thought alone nearly sent him spiraling.

"What if-what if I forget myself? I can't go back to what I was-"

To think he could lose everything he worked so hard for, just like that? He couldn't go back to that dark place. Not again. Never again.

"Drift." Ratchet took his shoulders. "It won't come to that. We're going to find someone to help you."

"Then why won't you tell me what I forgot? I don't like this, Ratchet. I feel so wrong. Everything feels so wrong." And now Drift realized he couldn't lift his hands from the armrests- "I feel like pieces of me are gone. I need to know-"

Ratchet's hands pushed down hard. Too hard. His words sounded echoed and muffled. Nothing made sense. There was something in his mouth-

Drift tried to get up, but metal clasps held his wrists down.

He shuttered his optics.

Vent. Just vent in and out. Retreat inwards. Focus.

He could do this. Ratchet mentioned this might happen.

Vent. Focus. Focus on the dark abyss. Quiet. Calm. Dark.

Ratchet's face- covered in energon. No optics-

Optics flew open to see the same monstrosity before him, getting closer and closer.

Fried circuitry wafted through his sensors.

"You want it to stop? Hmm?"

Pedesteps approached, that putrid drink in hand.

Arms tied down, he couldn't move. He couldn't move.

Hands pried his mouth open and held it there. Something felt off, missing. Something important. Alerts screeched at him.

The drink poured down his intake, that bitter awful taste, mixed with his own energon leaking from where his helm was aching so horribly. Something round got caught in Drift's mouth. He tried desperately to expel it.

A chuckle as his mouth continued to be forced open. "Don't bite down now, Deadlock. Wouldn't want this to end so soon. You still have the remainder of your punishment to get through, isn't that right?"

A choked sob from his intake, muffled and muted. It only seemed to bring more glee to his tormentor.

Coolant poured down Drift's face. Or was it energon? He couldn't tell anymore.

Optics open or closed, that cruel smirk was still there, flashing across his vision. Nowhere was safe-

"-ift."

"Drift-"

"Drift."

Drift jolted.

Ratchet's hands steadied him, gentle strokes across still trembling arms.

Wheezing vents, everything was in a haze. Optics darted around the shuttle, looking for something. For what, he didn't know. He felt so wrong.

"…Ratchet?"

Something covered Ratchet's optics. Drift's gaze quickly averted from his face. There was something in Ratchet's mouth.

"What…what happened?"

"You went offline again."

"… I did?" There was no recollection of that in his memory drive. Then again, he also didn't remember being moved to the floor, and yet there he was, sitting up against the wall.

Drift didn't understand why he felt such a strong urge to touch the top of his helm, his mouth. He could still taste it.

"This soon? Didn't I just pass out a few minutes ago?"

"Drift… it's been two hours. You were offline for a while now. Had me worried for a bit that you wouldn't wake back up." Ratchet released Drift to rub at his own face. "I'm… I shouldn't have put you in the chair again. I wasn't thinking." He sounded… remorseful. Guilty.

So it wasn't the first time then. Something wasn't right here.

"You still haven't told me why."

Still no answer.

Drift felt coolant soaking his faceplate, his intake was raw and sore. As if he'd been screaming.

"I'm messed up." Words came out in a whisper, voice scratchy and aching. "What's happening to me, Ratchet? I don't know what's happening to me. I need to know."

"…"

"Why won't you tell me? At least say that much."

Ratchet's voice was quiet, reserved. "I think it's best you don't know."

"But why?" Did he think this was protecting him? Ratchet? The one bot he knew that would tell you exactly what was on his mind at all times? The one medic he knew that wouldn't try to twist the truth to his patients just to make them feel better? That Ratchet? Drift knew what had happened to him was bad. He saw the medical reports, felt the pain afterwards. But not knowing anything? Being kept in the dark? By someone he trusts? That might just hurt even more.

When he still got no satisfactory answer from Ratchet, Drift gave up asking.

"Acting like the DJD got a hold of me or something." He muttered to himself, barely loud enough for Ratchet to hear.

Ratchet twitched.

"Which would just be ridiculous. If that happened, I wouldn't be here with you right now. I would be dead." Drift huffed a laugh. "Or even worse, they might've just taken me with them. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm on their 'extended punishment' list-"

"Stop. Just… stop talking. Don't bring them up anymore. Please." Ratchet got up and pulled the blindfold off as he approached his seat.

Drift grimaced. Maybe that wasn't the most appropriate conversation to have. But it didn't make any sense to him why Ratchet would be so shaken up about the DJD. Drift was the one who should be scared. And he was. Very. Not that he would ever say it.

Then again, if they found him while he was with Ratchet…he didn't want to think about that. If anything happened to Ratchet because of him, Drift would never forgive himself.

"We should arrive at the next destination in a couple hours. Hopefully this one isn't a complete fraud like the last guy we tried." Ratchet kept his optics locked in front of him. It hadn't escaped Drift's notice that he refused to look back at him. Without the blindfold at least. Drift couldn't find the strength to pull himself up off the floor though, so he was stuck with his view of Ratchet from the back.

"Wait. What do you mean 'the last guy'? I thought we…just left…"

Ratchet only looked partially back, a sad expression on his face. "… It's okay, Drift. We're going to find someone to help you. Just leave it to me."

He pulled something up on the display, pointing at a name. Froid. "Here. An old friend of Rung's. Word is he can help with memory related problems. Don't know how true that is, but I guess we'll find out."

Drift had no idea what his expression held, but clearly it wasn't good from how Ratchet kept glancing back at him with that look.

"We'll figure something out, Drift… I promise."

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