Log - Sideswipe, Blast Off, a dash of Perceptor and a bit of rust.
After this post, Sideswipe does indeed come to the shuttle's help.
Blast Off: The shuttle is on the berth, propped against the wall for support, weary and optics dim, not quite there as he stares down at the still-rusting and crumbling foot lying at the other end of the berth. The other foot is on the floor, an arm on the table. One of the legs looks like it's been shot at. Primus, it had hurt to the point where he had almost become incapable of reasonable, logical thought - but it's better now. Just a dull ache left as he's eaten alive.
Sideswipe: Here comes Sideswipe to the rescue, going as fast as a Lamborghini can (which is pretty fast, really). Not knowing about the shuttle's situation - not in detail, anyways - he knocks on the door a few times before taking a small step back, waiting for an answer. He would be happy that Blast Off wants to talk to him if he wasn't so worried that Blast Off wants to talk to him.
Blast Off: Blast Off isn't in any shape to open the door himself - lack of feet will do that to you - but his optics brighten (though they are still dimmer than they should be) as he glances to the door and auto-opens it. Apart from that, he doesn't really move. He doesn't really have anything to move.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe glances behind him before stepping inside quickly, noticing Blast Off right away. "Oh-" It's more a noise of surprise than anything else really - he wasn't expecting it to be this bad - as he moves to stand directly in front of the shuttle, giving a worried frown as he studies Blast Off, or lack of Blast Off a few moments before: "Can you... maybe, uh, slide forward a bit?"
Blast Off: Sure, just give him a second to duct-tape his feet back on and he can dance with you too! The shuttle does as Sideswipe wants without any fuss, leaning heavily on the remaining hand when the support of the wall disappears. A wince or two, as well as a light shiver before he looks up at the Lamborghini. He tries to look rough and in control of the situation, but doesn't succeed.
Sideswipe: Oh no, he is so in control of this situation. Sideswipe is intimidated. Still looking worried, he reaches forward before hesitating, his hand coming back a bit. No, he can do this. "Okay, um." His hand sliding around the shuttle's back, providing some support. "This is gonna be kinda weird." Awkward, even. Normal for them. His other hand moves slowly under what's left of Blast Off's legs, more hesitant of touching the rust and causing pain than touching the rust and catching it. "Ready?"
Blast Off: His hand moves and grabs onto Sideswipe's arm, and gripping it tightly, the rest of his body tensing up. He's not ready and he's not fine, he's rusting and can barely even move. Fingers tighten till they turn almost painful on the other's arm, lift him up or just shoot him between the optics, whatever you want to do just do it, Autobot.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe doesn't say anything about the hand on his arm - he'll take that as a yes? Don't ask an Autobot for help and then expect him to not help. He's trying his hardest to make this as painless as possible. The Lamborghini pauses a moment before standing up, taking the shuttle with him. Yeah, Blast Off is so in control here.
Blast Off: A pained grunt and a hard thrum is the only response Sideswipe really gets from him as he lifts the shuttle, Blast Off is acutely aware of the control he doesn't have, no reason to rub it in. Things are really too rusted to be of any real pain, and tactile sensors are numbed down as much as the Combaticon could. His grip turns almost clinging, don't drop him. Please.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe doesn't have any plans to drop the shuttle, and he winces slightly because he isn't trying to cause Blast Off any pain at all. "Sorry." He moves as fast as he can with a shuttle in his arms while still keeping his movements smooth, which means he isn't really going that fast. But it's faster than just sitting around, right? This time he actually knows where he's going, heading in the direction of the Ark.
Blast Off: Something between a grunt and a whimper, apology accepted. The shuttle isn't feeling too good at the moment (understandably enough, one should think), turning to hide his face in the car's armor. He felt so pathetic, helpless - where is Onslaught? - he didn't want to go to medbay, not like this. Engine cranks out strained thrums, want space. The hand clenching Sideswipe's arm turns into a steel-vice, desperate for some sort of reassurance but stubbornly in denial about it.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe's pace doesn't change, his engine giving off a quiet purr as he navigates through the halls, more sure now that he's back in the Ark. He stops to readjust Blast Off in his arms slightly before continuing on at the same speed, holding the shuttle just a bit closer to his body. They're getting closer to the medbay, even if it's at a painfully slow rate.
Blast Off: ...he couldn't do this. Primus give him strength, but he couldn't. Just like when Bombshell had paralyzed him, he can't move or even defend himself or barely think and still there's an Autobot carrying him and he hates Autobots, wants to shoot them all down but he can't and he doesn't want to lie on a medbay table again, unable to move while they do whatever they want to him, this Sideswipe wouldn't let that happen, right? (Dirtkisser.) Engine noises go from being tense to just flat out giving him all it's got, Blast Off himself torn whether he wants to tear away from Sideswipe or hold on tighter, the lone arm pushing and pulling until he in a snap decision reaches into subspace and brings out his gun, aiming it at the side of the Lamborghini's head, the muzzle shaking as he tries to hold it still. Don't take him there.
Sideswipe: ... alrighty then. Sideswipe stops in his tracks, letting out a nervous/worried/whatisgoingonD: sigh. He's tried to keep his patience and work things out, especially now that Blast Off is rusting away, but it's just been so hard and harder still now that the shuttle isn't talking to him, and he has no idea what to do and Blast Off is not helping him at all and Sideswipe is slowly learning he does not like these games of chance. His grip on the other doesn't lessen, though, as he gives a faint rev of frustration. "What did I do."
Blast Off: "Don't take me there." His voice is both wavering and have a desperate ring to it. Blast Off doesn't care. Just as long as he isn't left in a room full of mechs that can do as they wish with him not having any say in it. He's been pushed around enough, no more. With a quiet sound of metal bumping against metal, the business end of his weapon rests against Sideswipe's head. Shuttle-thrums are strong - and starting to turn painful - enough to make his arm unsteady, pulling his head back to stare up at the 'Bot. "Don't." Please. They'll do what he did. A tiny move of his trigger-finger. He can't let that happen again.
Sideswipe: Okay. Frustration is being replaced by confusion, still slightly worried because there is a gun pointed at his head and Blast Off is unpredictable and- "... I thought you wanted to." Unless 'I need your help, take me to the medbay' means something entirely different in fataft-space whale talk. "'m... sorry?" Still not moving, and his grip on the other lessens some.
Blast Off: "They'll..." He falters, can't really tell Sideswipe about it. Shouldn't think about it, he can almost hear the buzzing and chittering of weevils when he does. Primus frag it. Optics grow darker as the shuttle stare at him. Fix the rust for him, without medbay? The gun's slide down to Sideswipe's neck. Help.
Sideswipe: "They'll...?" Unfortunately Sideswipe does not know what Blast Off is thinking, which could really make and break this conversation. "Are you..." Here's hoping the shuttle doesn't shoot him for even suggesting this, but - "... scared?" Yeah sure, Sideswipe will fix it. All he has is no clue what he's doing and piledrivers, but he'll give it a shot.
Blast Off: He doesn't answer the first question, barely even registers it. The second one... not so much. The shuttle's face close off, hand going taut for a moment before relaxing somewhat again. "No." The tone he uses to offer this answer with clearly contradicts the word itself. He's not scared, he is never scared, he is just missing both his feet and an arm and he's about to be carried to a medbay and left alone among mechs that he can't defend himself against. He's fine. Really. Don't leave him.
Sideswipe: "You aren't scared." Ye-eah, Sideswipe doesn't really believe him but hey, he'll roll with it. "Then what? Embarrassed to be carried in? Would you rather walk instead?" Haha, sarcasm. Heavy shuttle is getting heavy, and while he adores Blast Off's company, he does not adore it like this. And he doesn't plan on leaving him, what with the shuttle being in this condition and Sideswipe actually liking him.
Blast Off: Right now, the Combaticon is very much not amused by Sideswipe's attempt at humor. (Then again, he's biased.) He looks ready to snap something back, but Blast Off hesitates with his reply, his line of sight moving from the car's face to his own rust-tipped knees and the lack of anything below them. He would like to walk. "No..." The hand holding the gun goes more and more slack in its hold, until the gun falls out of it and clatters down onto the floor. Sideswipe should maybe try telling the shuttle that.
Sideswipe: "Okay." Sideswipe readjusts him again, holding him closer and man, Blast Off wasn't this heavy when he first picked him up, was he? "It's not like I would be doing this for just anybody..." Insert some self-conciousness here, the Lamborghini looking down at the ground - or in the direction of the ground, which is just Blast Off's chest-area, because he's still holding him and does Blast Off have another gun that he'll pull out as soon as they start moving? - shuffling his feet (as best he can). If he were a girl, he would so be biting his nails right about now.
Blast Off: Tiredness is creeping up on him, he'd spent a lot of energy earlier when writhing in agony because of the rust going for his wing-seams. Gaze flickers up at Sideswipe's face, though, at that comment. Shuttle didn't know what the other does and doesn't do on a regular basis, and while rust this aggressive isn't really a normal happening, who knew if Sideswipe has a kink for carrying mechs around? And the shuttle isn't heavy, just... compact. Very compact. Head leans against Sideswipe's chestplate, not entirely by Blast Off's own will. (He doesn't complain about it either, however.) "...alright." The one thing everything was not.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe vents out another sigh, he was so not good at this kind of thing, and he starts walking toward the medbay again, slower than before, wary of another outburst from the shuttle. Engine hums as he shuffles his feet - this time going somewhere! - not even sure that Blast Off understood what he was trying to say. Oh well, c'est la vie.
Blast Off: The Autobot is probably better than Blast Off, at any rate. And the shuttle has fallen into silence, whether he has even noticed that his gun went to the floor earlier or not is uncertain, optics dim and not quite seeing anything. "Hate Earth." Mumbled, sounding more like he's talking to himself than to Sideswipe.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe continues on, and even if he did hear Blast Off he doesn't say anything in response, his pace picking up slightly from the uncertain shuffle he was doing before. Once he opened his mouth as if to ask the shuttle something, then changed his mind and closed again. My oh my, just how far away was the medbay? They had to be close now.
Blast Off: There's not as much relaxation as there is systems shutting down to conserve power, making the Combaticon slump in Sideswipe's grasp. He misses the question that was about to be let loose, the very odd readings coming from his missing limbs more than enough to throw him off his game. Don't want medbay, don't want rust, who was the mech carrying him? Oh. Sideswipe. Why was he carrying him? He tries to ask but mostly just ends up burying his face in the red armor again. Don't take me there.
Sideswipe: Still slowly making his way through the Ark, shifting Blast Off in his arms once more - man, they were starting to hurt - stumbling on something (possibly his own feet) but catching himself before he could fall. "Sorry." It's quiet, but genuine.
Blast Off: Shuttle yelps and grips the Lamborghini's shoulder hard, falling down right now is a bad idea, he really doesn't want to. He holds himself tight with that hand, ashamed and hating himself for as he does, too weak - just like Onslaught said. Pathetic, being reduced to this overnight because of some fragging space bug the sixchanger gave him. He tells himself he's not clinging but he most likely is, making a low sound as an apology-accepted. He's sure he's a dreary sight for optics, right now.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe doesn't think because he got rust that he's weak, but that's just Sideswipe. His opinion can't be all that important to the shuttle. "Are you... okay? I hope I didn't hurt you too bad..." Gotta think of something else to say. If Sideswipe were in this position, he'd want to be comforted, so: "If you want, I can... I mean, the medbay isn't all that scary. Ratchet knows what he's doing. But I can... if you want I can stay with you? Make sure they don't... do anything you don't want them to do, or something. Or even just keep you company. Unless you don't want me to."
Blast Off: Not that many opinions matter to the shuttle, and considering that the Lamborghini is there, his opinion is starting to matter a bit more. (And really, whatever Sideswipe wanted to do with Blast Off he could do, without the shuttle being able to stop him.) The grip goes from desperate to merely hanging on tight, not being stuck in medbay alone sounded pretty damn good for the Combaticon. Not-alone with someone he knows. Maybe trusts. "...fine." Company is fine. Good, even. Preferred. He turns his head slightly to glance up at the Autobot. Sideswipe is... trustable, right? "'d like that." ...right?
Sideswipe: ... he'd like that. He said he'd like that. Sideswipe keeps himself calm, nodding and managing a quiet "Okay." Not like he'd do anything that Blast Off didn't want him to do while he was like this. Not like he'd do anything Blast Off didn't want him to do ever. "And I'm sorry this is taking so long, I just don't want to..." hurt you, you poor fragile thing? Definitely not confidence-boosting. And, well, Sideswipe trusts himself? That counts, right?
Blast Off: Merrily (metaphorically speaking) unaware of Sideswipe's inner celebration for something as simple as the shuttle wanting company, he slowly relaxes his hold on the car's shoulder more, Sideswipe'd stay with him. (Don't like Autobots or dirtkissers.) And he didn't want to what? (Let him go?) Run? Blast Off doesn't delve too much on the thought, opting to just ask instead - for once. "To what?" Tone implies he's fine with it taking long. Helps him to...gather himself before they get there. He doesn't bother to lift his head away from the mech's chestplate, however.
Sideswipe: Well. "To hurt you." And it's good that he isn't in a rush, because Sideswipe isn't in a rush either, and he doesn't plan on rushing. He shrugs his shoulders, readjusting Blast Off once again - it helps him seem... less compact - trying not to move him around or disturb him too much.
Blast Off: ...to not hurt him? That doesn't make much sense. They are Autobot and Decepticon - they are supposed to hurt each other. Were supposed to. Blast Off doesn't know anymore. This one is - nice, though. "Oh." If a bit fumbly with his hands. Hand tighten again as he is shifted around, not particularly enjoying the feeling much. (Helpless.) Maybe if he re-positioned himself a bit like this, it'd be easier for Sideswipe to - carry him.
Sideswipe: Sure it makes sense. Unless Blast Off wants Sideswipe to hurt him. Highly unlikely, but dirty little secret kink? Who knows. That does help, a bit, though Sideswipe is still not used to this at all and wow, he needs to learn how to teleport or something. They're still getting there, albeit at a slow and steady rate.
Blast Off: No, the Combatishuttle has no hidden masochism stashed away. No sadism, either. What's wrong with simple gentle touches? He moves a bit, half-heartedly trying to keep rusty stumps that once was both knees and feet away from Sideswipe's armor. Blast Off's really too tired to make it a real effort, though. Thinking that now is as good as ever (and maybe taking a little leap of faith), he airs the thought that has been rolling around in the back of his processor for some time now. "Why did... why did you come?"
Sideswipe: "You said you needed my help." And also because I like you, idiot. Sideswipe appreciates whatever effort he's putting into it, though he doubts that it will do much good now. Thought that counts?
Blast Off: And saying it meant that your enemy came to help? Autobots were screwed up. "...and that's why?" The shuttle is confused. Sideswipe makes little sense to him and his Decepticon ways. Tired. Effort goes from trying to not trying at all. Doesn't have energy left for that.
Sideswipe: "... yeah? I figured that's what you do when you..." ... hm. Maybe another sentence would be better. "I- I don't know." The Lamborghini is confused too! First he freaks out over being taken to the medbay. Then he questions why Sideswipe came when he had asked for help. Did he even want Sideswipe to come at all?
Blast Off: "When you?" When you what? Don't go coward on him now, especially not when you change the sentence to something as terrible as I don't know. And to be honest, the shuttle might not have wanted Sideswipe in specific as much as he had to have someone come and help him, and when his preferred selection of mechs failed to do that... well. He had called on him, hadn't he? And that's what matters, here and now.
Sideswipe: "When you..." Maybe Blast Off should learn how to read minds. That could make this easier. "... like someone?" Or just, you know, whatever. What sucks is that they're so close, and it's not like Sideswipe can just take a step back and away from the shuttle. No, he's right there and he's going to be right there for a while now and did someone change the location of the medbay or something?
Blast Off: Like someone? Is the Autobot implying that he - likes him? He glances up, yet again, on Sideswipe's face, his own somewhat blank - not that it really matters, facemask hiding most of his expression. But - since they were already making some sort of progress, he can take advantage of it, right? He still sounds a bit tentative, though. "Like someone... how?" Fingers curls around a ridge in the shoulder-plates. Blast Off has no idea where they are, really. Somewhere that isn't the Nemesis.
Sideswipe: Huh. Is it too late to backtrack? "Like someone... uh..." Damn, Sideswipe has a big mouth. Those fingers are also slightly distracting, and he shrugs his shoulders again, gotta focus on the important subject here, and why is Blast Off so close? "I just..." Look, it's hard to have a feelings talk when it's pretty much one-sided. He almost says 'I don't know' again, then decides to go with: "Forget I said anything."
Blast Off: Hand relocates and does the same to the new spot, shifting slightly when his support starts moving about, getting closer in the process. Not comfortable, the feeling of falling down at any time. Regarding Sideswipe a bit more, he decides to not let this slide. This is important - not to mention it is going to affect him. And he might be off enough to let that matter. "Why?"
Sideswipe: Woooah, he's not gonna drop you, you don't need to be so close and why must you touch him like that it's distracting and he's trying to think of a coherent answer. "Because..." And he could answer that if he could just remember what the question was to begin with. "Wait, why what?" C'mon, it's not that important.
Blast Off: For Blast Off, it feels like the car is shrugging him off, and at the moment he has enough issues fueling him to make him resist it. (He doesn't want to be left alone.) Shuttle is oblivious about the effect his one hand is having on Sideswipe, though, and so it keeps doing what it does. "Why forget about it." Does that mean he should forget about Sideswipe staying too?
Sideswipe: Oh, Blast Off, you tease. "Because you'll think it's dumb." Sideswipe wiggles more, not intending to make Blast Off feel like that but it just feels so good, and Blast Off is rusting so he shouldn't even be thinking about that. He instinctively holds the other closer, damn, and Sideswipe will still be staying unless Blast Off freaks and doesn't want him to stay.
Blast Off: "I don't know what it is." Tiredness in his voice instead of the hostileness it usually would've had, fingers holding on tighter when the car squirms, missing that it's actually squirming and not just random movements. (Not to mention completely missing out on what other things Sideswipe wants to do with him.) He doesn't really think about him being pressed closer against the car, though. It's nice, sort of.
Sideswipe: "It's not even that-" Loosening up on his shoulder would be nice. "-important." He lets out a tiny whimper, Primus must hate him because why would he be putting him through this otherwise? Good thing Blast Off isn't minding the closeness, and their slow walk is stopped as Sideswipe's engine gives an almost-desperate whine. He needs to stop thinking and Blast Off needs to stop touching, asap.
Blast Off: "...alright." Too worn out to be like a tracker on a trail, he lets it go. Probably isn't important, and Sideswipe says it isn't, and Sideswipe is - can trust him. The shuttle makes a curious noise at the - was that a whimper? - sound the car makes, had they stopped? He holds onto the shoulder tighter. He doesn't want to be put down yet. Up here is sort of safe. Safer.
Sideswipe: Oh, good. No more questions. Less thinking (though still some, because it isn't bad if he thinks about it, right?). If they want to keep moving, that hand may need to be put somewhere else though. "Your hand is, uh..." Turning me on. "Tickling. Can you put it-" Deeper. "-somewhere else?" Not like Sideswipe plans on putting him down any time soon. He's even gotten used to the weight. Or perhaps he's just been distracted from the weight.
Blast Off: He mumbles somethng that might've been an apology, sliding his hand further down on the Autobot's shoulder to rest against the wheel there instead. His own landing gear isn't that particularly sensitive, and he doesn't see why a dirtkisser's wheels should be. And if the 'Bot suddenly did decide to put him down, the shuttle might freak out again. So far, nothing bad had happened when he had been with Sideswipe. A good trait, and the Combaticon sighs and looks down at the would-be feet of his, fingers digging slightly into the rubber of Sideswipe's tire.
Sideswipe: Okay, so maybe it was better when his hand was on his shoulder. Or it could be better on the wheel. All depends on where one wants to go with this. Sideswipe has been trying to keep it together this whole time. But there's only so much he can take before he just can't take any more, letting out a bitten-back moan, and wow some support right about now would be nice. It feels like his knees are going to give out on him, and another whimper when fingers dig into his tire. That feels nice.
Blast Off: Blast Off is, for lack of a better word, to damn out of it to connect Sideswipe's weird behavior with the hand on his wheel, rather thinking that the rust is getting to the car too. (Inferior materials, obviously.) He thrums uncertainly, what's going on? "Sideswipe?" Sligthly hesitant, and it's just pure instinct that makes him grab onto the tire more. It's the only safeline he has in case the mech drops him for some reason, and he's not about to let go just like that.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe is, for lack of a better word, too damn in to it to care about much else. "Mmm?" He can't even think of the other's name right now. Another whimper as his tire is unintentionally groped, why does Blast Off have to go for his tire when he's rusting?! No worries though. He's not about to let go of the mech that's getting him going, even if it is going to go nowhere.
Blast Off: More uncertain engine sounds. "Something wrong?" If there is, he could always try to fire at whatever is causing the trouble, hand easing up in case he has to fumble into his subspace to find his weapon. He doesn't let go, however, ready to grab onto the tire again if Sideswipe made some sort of evasive maneuver. Blast Off really is in no shape to get into a fight right though, lacking in both energy and limbs. He tries to look around without moving his head around too much.
Sideswipe: ... something wrong? Other than what he wants to do? In the middle of the hall with a mech who's rusting away? "Mmmno." Going by his feel-good instincts, he presses his tire against the shuttle's hand. Another moan, and perhaps a chair would be nice right about now.
Blast Off: ...was that a moan? Blast Off must be imagining things. Sideswipe moaning in this situation is just too bizarre. "...are we there?" He doesn't sound too thrilled about that, though. The shuttle attempts to indicate them stopping with his rusted stump, for a moment forgetting that there isn't an arm there. It only results in flakes falling off and floating down to the ground. Blast Off dims his optics till he can't really see anything. He's rusting up, being eaten up. Tire is squeezed, hard, as he in vain tries not to think about that.
Sideswipe: Screw waiting for chairs to magically pop up, Sideswipe needs something now. Oh look, a wall! He groans, mixing it with a whimper to make an odd, desperate sort of noise. "N-no." How can Blast Off not know what he's doing to the Lamborghini? "I just - ah - needed a break." He shuffles to lean his back against the wall, head falling back as he pushes his tire into the shuttle's hand again, holding Blast Off even closer.
Blast Off: The shuttle isn't all there, to tell the truth, but it's starting to leak through to him that Sideswipe is - not okay. He focuses his mind, Primus, if he had just had his other arm it'd be easier, and moves his arm upwards again to loop around the car's neck, and makes a brave try at lifting himself up to give the Autobot some relief - and failing. Too many tons and not enough energy. He ends up shifting himself slightly around, but puts his head back against Sideswipe's armor - now a bit higher up - when he gives it up. The shuttle mutters something quietly, if you listened closely it might've been a 'sorry.'
Sideswipe: Nooononono why is there stopping? Sideswipe makes a confused noise before remembering what he was supposed to be doing, and wow - does this day suck or what. He groans before pushing off the wall, still cradling the shuttle in his arms, engine giving off a hum and he really just wants to get to the medbay so he can put Blast Off down and put a little space between them for a bit - either that, or so Blast Off can get patched up and they can do other things. He really needs to stop thinking about that though. Maybe if the shuttle could keep his hands to himself he'd be able to.
Blast Off: Keep his hands to himself? Considering he only has one arm, that is a lot easier than Sideswipe might think. (Maybe if the Lamborghini wasn't so horny all the time he would be able to stop thinking about it.) Nevertheless, the one arm he has tightens around the car's neck, not too sure if he really minds stopping, since it means that they'll stay like for for a bit longer and the shuttle didn't have to rust alone. Without really putting much conscious thought into it, he mirrors the sport car's hum with some quiet thrumming of his own.
Sideswipe: Apparently not, because he still keeps touching him. (Not his fault Blast Off decided to fondle his tire.) Sideswipe doesn't make a move to keep walking, staying close to the wall in case he needs it again for now. He lifts his arms, holding Blast Off higher up against him.
Blast Off: Blast Off had to deal with both his feet and his arm rusting off while alone, he's not about to let the mech who came for him go just like that. Didn't want to be alone again, not now. Not when he's like this. Optics still dim, he speaks in a silent manner. "Sideswipe."
Sideswipe: Okay, maybe he does still need some support, but when he leans back against the wall it's for different reasons than before. Well, sort of. "Hmm?" Just as quiet, looking down at the ground (or in the ground's general direction), some faint humming coming from him.
Blast Off: The shuttle doesn't mind, even as he is crumbling. "Why..." He falls silent again. He pays no attention to the data streaming in from his legs, has sort of gotten used to it. Did this mean he was never going to see space again? "Why like?" He shifts, a small but noticeable piece of his knee-joint caving in against gravity and falling to the floor as the rust goes through the metal it was connected to.
Sideswipe: Why like? "..." Maybe he could find a way to get around it. All these thinking questions when he doesn't want to think. "... I think we should get you to the medbay before any more of you falls off." Probably not the answer Blast Off was looking for, but you gotta work with what you got.
Blast Off: A few fingers brushes over the red armor as he nods reluctantly, he didn't want medbay, but Sideswipe was going to be there, stop him from... weevils. And he really didn't want to lose more parts. But then again, he didn't think it would hurt any more than it already had.
Sideswipe: A light shiver runs through Sideswipe, but other than that he makes no other move for a few moments. Then, sighing, he gets up from the wall (again), walking in the direction he knows the medbay is in - and it's gotta be close, right? - slowly, still, to keep from jarring the shuttle.
Blast Off: Blast Off traces a ridge in the armorplate's design, absently and mostly because he wants some sort of sensory input that isn't wrong or off or just phantom data insisting on something that isn't real. Earth, the Pit, what was the difference.
Sideswipe: On second thought, the silence is even worse than having to think. "What did you mean...'why like'?"
Blast Off: Like? "Why like?" He thought it hadn't mattered to the car. Maybe it didn't. "You like someone." Blast Off isn't too familiar with that, apart from odd loneliness-inspired interests in particular mechs.
Sideswipe: It must look weird; Sideswipe carrying half a Blast Off. He totally just found him randomly in a hallway, just for the record. The Lamborghini sighs, finally medbay.
Blast Off: Totally random indeed. Blast Off doesn't relax that much as he hears the noises of the medbay, rather the opposite, complete with hand gripping that ridge he was stroking. Don't like.
Perceptor: It's late in the solar cycle, and most everyone in the auxiliary medbay is recharging at the moment; except for Perceptor, who is simultaneously looking up the chemical formula for bleach and examining samples of infected metal.
Sideswipe: They're so close, so close and... damn. Sideswipe stands to the side, huffing and readjusting the shuttle in his hands for the nine thousandth time this night. ::Uh, anyone in there?:: Open uuuup.
Perceptor: Perceptor looks up, glancing towards the door as he responds, ::Yes; if you are not infected, please utilize your holoform. If not, I will open the door for you.:: He's not being rude, he's just absorbed in his work.
Blast Off: He remains silent, attempting to put effort into helping but mostly just holds onto the car a bit tighter. He wouldn't be left there, right?
Sideswipe: ::I, uh, we're both... infected.:: Fortunately. He feels the grip tighten and instead of shrugging his shoulders he holds the other closer.
Perceptor: ::Ah.:: The door slides open, and he immediately leaves his samples to prep the two inhibitors for the newcomers.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe takes a cautious step inside - more like a cautious shuffle - looking around nervously. So much for no one knowing about them.
Blast Off: Tentative, almost anxious thrums, too low to be really heard - but most likely Sideswipe can feel them, since he's holding the shuttle so close. Blast Off is really less concerned about their acquaintance being made public, and more worried about the medbay itself. If he spots any weevils, he'll grab for his weapon and shoot to kill.
Perceptor: "Oh dear..." Perceptor practically rushes over, applying the inhibitor. "You waited /this long/ to bring yourself in?" He's shocked at the sight, and is sorely tempted to whap Blast Off on the head. Perhaps Hook has rubbed off on him...
Sideswipe: "I would have brought him in sooner... if I had known." He's still holding Blast Off protectively close, watching Perceptor intently.
Blast Off: Pardon the shuttle for not strolling into medbay because of rather sensitive tactile clusters rotting away while still sending data back to his processors. Not to mention that he doesn't like medics. Which is expressed with a hard squeeze of Sideswipe-parts and a surprised yelp-like sound from the shuttle. He didn't know this new red Pitspawn, and he's not about to like him just because he's the same color as Sideswipe.
Perceptor: "...this is not good. If you had not come sooner...I do not know to what degree it will slow the oxidation, with how advanced the spread is." Perceptor then moves to Sideswipe, applying another inhibitor, and ushers them over to an empty berth,"Place him here, please."
Sideswipe: Sideswipe follows Perceptor (slowly), not saying anything, stopping when he reaches the berth. Now, how to do this... "Here?" Slowly, so slowly, he bends, lowering Blast Off until most of the shuttle's weight is supported by the berth, then carefully moving his arm out from under his legs.
Blast Off: Shuttle is reluctant to let go of Sideswipe, but he's also reluctant to let that reluctance show. Not bothering to answer Perceptor, though he does take some note of what the 'Bot says, somewhere. He refuses to lie down on the berth, however, hand still maintaining contact with the Lamborghini. Remember what you said, Autobot.
Perceptor: "Lie down; where are your limbs?" They need to be brought in to prevent others from becoming infected, and so that they can be treated as well. The less parts the medics need to create, the better.
Sideswipe: The hand that he just freed moves to beside the shuttle, supporting his weight so he doesn't lean against Blast Off. Hovering over the shuttle - he remembers! - he turns his head to answer Perceptor. "They're in his room."
Blast Off: Impossible to miss too, when you enter it - the room, that is. Blast Off valiantly tries to stay upright, but with low energy-reserves and only 1/4th of his limbs remaining, it's difficult, and he slowly sinks down onto the berth. Some vague nodding to confirm what Sideswipe just said. They hadn't had enough hands to bring them, to be honest.
Perceptor: Perceptor shakes his head slightly, "They will need to be retrieved. Ah, what is your name?" He doesn't like helping to treat a patient he doesn't know the name of.
Blast Off: Yes, the Combaticon'll get them as soon as he can get a hold of a cart. "Blast Off." That he's a 'Con should be obvious, that he's not fond of Autobots maybe less so.
Sideswipe: "Sideswipe." He doesn't really have a choice but to go down with Blast Off, still hovering, though the distance between them is slightly less - his other hand moving from the shuttle's back to the other side of him, adding support that a part of him doesn't really want right now.
Perceptor: The scientist nods, "I am Perceptor." He examines Blast Off more closely, looking to see how far the rust had spread. "The medics make rounds regularly to distribute the inhibitor; I also have access to it.”
Blast Off: Stuck between Sideswipe and a medic. The shuttle doesn't like this too much, but chooses to favor Sideswipe, rather-but-not-really subtly shifting closer to him. Though... "Inhibitor?"
Perceptor: Perceptor nods again, taking a small step backwards. "Yes. It slows the oxidation process. ...I don't mean to be rude, but I must get back to my work."
Blast Off: Shuttle is fine with that, and nods instead of saying anything. He was tired, and not being carried around anymore, the medic was going away and things were quiet. A light pull on Sideswipe's arm, the hold slowly going slack. (To serve and protect?)
Perceptor: He's not a medic, just a very well-read scientist; Perceptor smiles at them, then returns to his samples, quick to lose himself in them again.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe slowly pulls away from the shuttle, intentions not to leave the shuttle, just... get a bit more space for now.
Blast Off: Optics having dwindled into offline modus, the Combaticon won't notice unless the car also pulls away from his hand, which is still on the mech's arm, more resting than holding.
Sideswipe: Well then. Sideswipe won't pull away, yet, though he does sit on the edge of the berth, not sure what Blast Off wants him to do and trying to give him as much space as possible. If he even wants space, that is.
Blast Off: The shuttle doesn't know what he wants, even less so what he's doing. All he knows is that he's running out of energy, but is in medbay which means that he can't recharge - shouldn't recharge. Clinging to consciousness, he ups the pressure on Sideswipe's arm. Can't rest, can't be awake, he's between a rock and a hard place and quickly losing.
Sideswipe: He'll take that squeeze as a 'don't leave me' and stays right where he is, shifting his body to be slightly closer to Blast Off.
Blast Off: The mech sending the message isn't complaining - or thinking of complaining - so the Lamborghini must've interpreted it right. He strays between the different levels of awareness for some long moments before he caves in and falls into recharge, the grip not lessening overly much.
Blast Off: The shuttle is on the berth, propped against the wall for support, weary and optics dim, not quite there as he stares down at the still-rusting and crumbling foot lying at the other end of the berth. The other foot is on the floor, an arm on the table. One of the legs looks like it's been shot at. Primus, it had hurt to the point where he had almost become incapable of reasonable, logical thought - but it's better now. Just a dull ache left as he's eaten alive.
Sideswipe: Here comes Sideswipe to the rescue, going as fast as a Lamborghini can (which is pretty fast, really). Not knowing about the shuttle's situation - not in detail, anyways - he knocks on the door a few times before taking a small step back, waiting for an answer. He would be happy that Blast Off wants to talk to him if he wasn't so worried that Blast Off wants to talk to him.
Blast Off: Blast Off isn't in any shape to open the door himself - lack of feet will do that to you - but his optics brighten (though they are still dimmer than they should be) as he glances to the door and auto-opens it. Apart from that, he doesn't really move. He doesn't really have anything to move.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe glances behind him before stepping inside quickly, noticing Blast Off right away. "Oh-" It's more a noise of surprise than anything else really - he wasn't expecting it to be this bad - as he moves to stand directly in front of the shuttle, giving a worried frown as he studies Blast Off, or lack of Blast Off a few moments before: "Can you... maybe, uh, slide forward a bit?"
Blast Off: Sure, just give him a second to duct-tape his feet back on and he can dance with you too! The shuttle does as Sideswipe wants without any fuss, leaning heavily on the remaining hand when the support of the wall disappears. A wince or two, as well as a light shiver before he looks up at the Lamborghini. He tries to look rough and in control of the situation, but doesn't succeed.
Sideswipe: Oh no, he is so in control of this situation. Sideswipe is intimidated. Still looking worried, he reaches forward before hesitating, his hand coming back a bit. No, he can do this. "Okay, um." His hand sliding around the shuttle's back, providing some support. "This is gonna be kinda weird." Awkward, even. Normal for them. His other hand moves slowly under what's left of Blast Off's legs, more hesitant of touching the rust and causing pain than touching the rust and catching it. "Ready?"
Blast Off: His hand moves and grabs onto Sideswipe's arm, and gripping it tightly, the rest of his body tensing up. He's not ready and he's not fine, he's rusting and can barely even move. Fingers tighten till they turn almost painful on the other's arm, lift him up or just shoot him between the optics, whatever you want to do just do it, Autobot.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe doesn't say anything about the hand on his arm - he'll take that as a yes? Don't ask an Autobot for help and then expect him to not help. He's trying his hardest to make this as painless as possible. The Lamborghini pauses a moment before standing up, taking the shuttle with him. Yeah, Blast Off is so in control here.
Blast Off: A pained grunt and a hard thrum is the only response Sideswipe really gets from him as he lifts the shuttle, Blast Off is acutely aware of the control he doesn't have, no reason to rub it in. Things are really too rusted to be of any real pain, and tactile sensors are numbed down as much as the Combaticon could. His grip turns almost clinging, don't drop him. Please.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe doesn't have any plans to drop the shuttle, and he winces slightly because he isn't trying to cause Blast Off any pain at all. "Sorry." He moves as fast as he can with a shuttle in his arms while still keeping his movements smooth, which means he isn't really going that fast. But it's faster than just sitting around, right? This time he actually knows where he's going, heading in the direction of the Ark.
Blast Off: Something between a grunt and a whimper, apology accepted. The shuttle isn't feeling too good at the moment (understandably enough, one should think), turning to hide his face in the car's armor. He felt so pathetic, helpless - where is Onslaught? - he didn't want to go to medbay, not like this. Engine cranks out strained thrums, want space. The hand clenching Sideswipe's arm turns into a steel-vice, desperate for some sort of reassurance but stubbornly in denial about it.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe's pace doesn't change, his engine giving off a quiet purr as he navigates through the halls, more sure now that he's back in the Ark. He stops to readjust Blast Off in his arms slightly before continuing on at the same speed, holding the shuttle just a bit closer to his body. They're getting closer to the medbay, even if it's at a painfully slow rate.
Blast Off: ...he couldn't do this. Primus give him strength, but he couldn't. Just like when Bombshell had paralyzed him, he can't move or even defend himself or barely think and still there's an Autobot carrying him and he hates Autobots, wants to shoot them all down but he can't and he doesn't want to lie on a medbay table again, unable to move while they do whatever they want to him, this Sideswipe wouldn't let that happen, right? (Dirtkisser.) Engine noises go from being tense to just flat out giving him all it's got, Blast Off himself torn whether he wants to tear away from Sideswipe or hold on tighter, the lone arm pushing and pulling until he in a snap decision reaches into subspace and brings out his gun, aiming it at the side of the Lamborghini's head, the muzzle shaking as he tries to hold it still. Don't take him there.
Sideswipe: ... alrighty then. Sideswipe stops in his tracks, letting out a nervous/worried/whatisgoingonD: sigh. He's tried to keep his patience and work things out, especially now that Blast Off is rusting away, but it's just been so hard and harder still now that the shuttle isn't talking to him, and he has no idea what to do and Blast Off is not helping him at all and Sideswipe is slowly learning he does not like these games of chance. His grip on the other doesn't lessen, though, as he gives a faint rev of frustration. "What did I do."
Blast Off: "Don't take me there." His voice is both wavering and have a desperate ring to it. Blast Off doesn't care. Just as long as he isn't left in a room full of mechs that can do as they wish with him not having any say in it. He's been pushed around enough, no more. With a quiet sound of metal bumping against metal, the business end of his weapon rests against Sideswipe's head. Shuttle-thrums are strong - and starting to turn painful - enough to make his arm unsteady, pulling his head back to stare up at the 'Bot. "Don't." Please. They'll do what he did. A tiny move of his trigger-finger. He can't let that happen again.
Sideswipe: Okay. Frustration is being replaced by confusion, still slightly worried because there is a gun pointed at his head and Blast Off is unpredictable and- "... I thought you wanted to." Unless 'I need your help, take me to the medbay' means something entirely different in fataft-space whale talk. "'m... sorry?" Still not moving, and his grip on the other lessens some.
Blast Off: "They'll..." He falters, can't really tell Sideswipe about it. Shouldn't think about it, he can almost hear the buzzing and chittering of weevils when he does. Primus frag it. Optics grow darker as the shuttle stare at him. Fix the rust for him, without medbay? The gun's slide down to Sideswipe's neck. Help.
Sideswipe: "They'll...?" Unfortunately Sideswipe does not know what Blast Off is thinking, which could really make and break this conversation. "Are you..." Here's hoping the shuttle doesn't shoot him for even suggesting this, but - "... scared?" Yeah sure, Sideswipe will fix it. All he has is no clue what he's doing and piledrivers, but he'll give it a shot.
Blast Off: He doesn't answer the first question, barely even registers it. The second one... not so much. The shuttle's face close off, hand going taut for a moment before relaxing somewhat again. "No." The tone he uses to offer this answer with clearly contradicts the word itself. He's not scared, he is never scared, he is just missing both his feet and an arm and he's about to be carried to a medbay and left alone among mechs that he can't defend himself against. He's fine. Really. Don't leave him.
Sideswipe: "You aren't scared." Ye-eah, Sideswipe doesn't really believe him but hey, he'll roll with it. "Then what? Embarrassed to be carried in? Would you rather walk instead?" Haha, sarcasm. Heavy shuttle is getting heavy, and while he adores Blast Off's company, he does not adore it like this. And he doesn't plan on leaving him, what with the shuttle being in this condition and Sideswipe actually liking him.
Blast Off: Right now, the Combaticon is very much not amused by Sideswipe's attempt at humor. (Then again, he's biased.) He looks ready to snap something back, but Blast Off hesitates with his reply, his line of sight moving from the car's face to his own rust-tipped knees and the lack of anything below them. He would like to walk. "No..." The hand holding the gun goes more and more slack in its hold, until the gun falls out of it and clatters down onto the floor. Sideswipe should maybe try telling the shuttle that.
Sideswipe: "Okay." Sideswipe readjusts him again, holding him closer and man, Blast Off wasn't this heavy when he first picked him up, was he? "It's not like I would be doing this for just anybody..." Insert some self-conciousness here, the Lamborghini looking down at the ground - or in the direction of the ground, which is just Blast Off's chest-area, because he's still holding him and does Blast Off have another gun that he'll pull out as soon as they start moving? - shuffling his feet (as best he can). If he were a girl, he would so be biting his nails right about now.
Blast Off: Tiredness is creeping up on him, he'd spent a lot of energy earlier when writhing in agony because of the rust going for his wing-seams. Gaze flickers up at Sideswipe's face, though, at that comment. Shuttle didn't know what the other does and doesn't do on a regular basis, and while rust this aggressive isn't really a normal happening, who knew if Sideswipe has a kink for carrying mechs around? And the shuttle isn't heavy, just... compact. Very compact. Head leans against Sideswipe's chestplate, not entirely by Blast Off's own will. (He doesn't complain about it either, however.) "...alright." The one thing everything was not.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe vents out another sigh, he was so not good at this kind of thing, and he starts walking toward the medbay again, slower than before, wary of another outburst from the shuttle. Engine hums as he shuffles his feet - this time going somewhere! - not even sure that Blast Off understood what he was trying to say. Oh well, c'est la vie.
Blast Off: The Autobot is probably better than Blast Off, at any rate. And the shuttle has fallen into silence, whether he has even noticed that his gun went to the floor earlier or not is uncertain, optics dim and not quite seeing anything. "Hate Earth." Mumbled, sounding more like he's talking to himself than to Sideswipe.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe continues on, and even if he did hear Blast Off he doesn't say anything in response, his pace picking up slightly from the uncertain shuffle he was doing before. Once he opened his mouth as if to ask the shuttle something, then changed his mind and closed again. My oh my, just how far away was the medbay? They had to be close now.
Blast Off: There's not as much relaxation as there is systems shutting down to conserve power, making the Combaticon slump in Sideswipe's grasp. He misses the question that was about to be let loose, the very odd readings coming from his missing limbs more than enough to throw him off his game. Don't want medbay, don't want rust, who was the mech carrying him? Oh. Sideswipe. Why was he carrying him? He tries to ask but mostly just ends up burying his face in the red armor again. Don't take me there.
Sideswipe: Still slowly making his way through the Ark, shifting Blast Off in his arms once more - man, they were starting to hurt - stumbling on something (possibly his own feet) but catching himself before he could fall. "Sorry." It's quiet, but genuine.
Blast Off: Shuttle yelps and grips the Lamborghini's shoulder hard, falling down right now is a bad idea, he really doesn't want to. He holds himself tight with that hand, ashamed and hating himself for as he does, too weak - just like Onslaught said. Pathetic, being reduced to this overnight because of some fragging space bug the sixchanger gave him. He tells himself he's not clinging but he most likely is, making a low sound as an apology-accepted. He's sure he's a dreary sight for optics, right now.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe doesn't think because he got rust that he's weak, but that's just Sideswipe. His opinion can't be all that important to the shuttle. "Are you... okay? I hope I didn't hurt you too bad..." Gotta think of something else to say. If Sideswipe were in this position, he'd want to be comforted, so: "If you want, I can... I mean, the medbay isn't all that scary. Ratchet knows what he's doing. But I can... if you want I can stay with you? Make sure they don't... do anything you don't want them to do, or something. Or even just keep you company. Unless you don't want me to."
Blast Off: Not that many opinions matter to the shuttle, and considering that the Lamborghini is there, his opinion is starting to matter a bit more. (And really, whatever Sideswipe wanted to do with Blast Off he could do, without the shuttle being able to stop him.) The grip goes from desperate to merely hanging on tight, not being stuck in medbay alone sounded pretty damn good for the Combaticon. Not-alone with someone he knows. Maybe trusts. "...fine." Company is fine. Good, even. Preferred. He turns his head slightly to glance up at the Autobot. Sideswipe is... trustable, right? "'d like that." ...right?
Sideswipe: ... he'd like that. He said he'd like that. Sideswipe keeps himself calm, nodding and managing a quiet "Okay." Not like he'd do anything that Blast Off didn't want him to do while he was like this. Not like he'd do anything Blast Off didn't want him to do ever. "And I'm sorry this is taking so long, I just don't want to..." hurt you, you poor fragile thing? Definitely not confidence-boosting. And, well, Sideswipe trusts himself? That counts, right?
Blast Off: Merrily (metaphorically speaking) unaware of Sideswipe's inner celebration for something as simple as the shuttle wanting company, he slowly relaxes his hold on the car's shoulder more, Sideswipe'd stay with him. (Don't like Autobots or dirtkissers.) And he didn't want to what? (Let him go?) Run? Blast Off doesn't delve too much on the thought, opting to just ask instead - for once. "To what?" Tone implies he's fine with it taking long. Helps him to...gather himself before they get there. He doesn't bother to lift his head away from the mech's chestplate, however.
Sideswipe: Well. "To hurt you." And it's good that he isn't in a rush, because Sideswipe isn't in a rush either, and he doesn't plan on rushing. He shrugs his shoulders, readjusting Blast Off once again - it helps him seem... less compact - trying not to move him around or disturb him too much.
Blast Off: ...to not hurt him? That doesn't make much sense. They are Autobot and Decepticon - they are supposed to hurt each other. Were supposed to. Blast Off doesn't know anymore. This one is - nice, though. "Oh." If a bit fumbly with his hands. Hand tighten again as he is shifted around, not particularly enjoying the feeling much. (Helpless.) Maybe if he re-positioned himself a bit like this, it'd be easier for Sideswipe to - carry him.
Sideswipe: Sure it makes sense. Unless Blast Off wants Sideswipe to hurt him. Highly unlikely, but dirty little secret kink? Who knows. That does help, a bit, though Sideswipe is still not used to this at all and wow, he needs to learn how to teleport or something. They're still getting there, albeit at a slow and steady rate.
Blast Off: No, the Combatishuttle has no hidden masochism stashed away. No sadism, either. What's wrong with simple gentle touches? He moves a bit, half-heartedly trying to keep rusty stumps that once was both knees and feet away from Sideswipe's armor. Blast Off's really too tired to make it a real effort, though. Thinking that now is as good as ever (and maybe taking a little leap of faith), he airs the thought that has been rolling around in the back of his processor for some time now. "Why did... why did you come?"
Sideswipe: "You said you needed my help." And also because I like you, idiot. Sideswipe appreciates whatever effort he's putting into it, though he doubts that it will do much good now. Thought that counts?
Blast Off: And saying it meant that your enemy came to help? Autobots were screwed up. "...and that's why?" The shuttle is confused. Sideswipe makes little sense to him and his Decepticon ways. Tired. Effort goes from trying to not trying at all. Doesn't have energy left for that.
Sideswipe: "... yeah? I figured that's what you do when you..." ... hm. Maybe another sentence would be better. "I- I don't know." The Lamborghini is confused too! First he freaks out over being taken to the medbay. Then he questions why Sideswipe came when he had asked for help. Did he even want Sideswipe to come at all?
Blast Off: "When you?" When you what? Don't go coward on him now, especially not when you change the sentence to something as terrible as I don't know. And to be honest, the shuttle might not have wanted Sideswipe in specific as much as he had to have someone come and help him, and when his preferred selection of mechs failed to do that... well. He had called on him, hadn't he? And that's what matters, here and now.
Sideswipe: "When you..." Maybe Blast Off should learn how to read minds. That could make this easier. "... like someone?" Or just, you know, whatever. What sucks is that they're so close, and it's not like Sideswipe can just take a step back and away from the shuttle. No, he's right there and he's going to be right there for a while now and did someone change the location of the medbay or something?
Blast Off: Like someone? Is the Autobot implying that he - likes him? He glances up, yet again, on Sideswipe's face, his own somewhat blank - not that it really matters, facemask hiding most of his expression. But - since they were already making some sort of progress, he can take advantage of it, right? He still sounds a bit tentative, though. "Like someone... how?" Fingers curls around a ridge in the shoulder-plates. Blast Off has no idea where they are, really. Somewhere that isn't the Nemesis.
Sideswipe: Huh. Is it too late to backtrack? "Like someone... uh..." Damn, Sideswipe has a big mouth. Those fingers are also slightly distracting, and he shrugs his shoulders again, gotta focus on the important subject here, and why is Blast Off so close? "I just..." Look, it's hard to have a feelings talk when it's pretty much one-sided. He almost says 'I don't know' again, then decides to go with: "Forget I said anything."
Blast Off: Hand relocates and does the same to the new spot, shifting slightly when his support starts moving about, getting closer in the process. Not comfortable, the feeling of falling down at any time. Regarding Sideswipe a bit more, he decides to not let this slide. This is important - not to mention it is going to affect him. And he might be off enough to let that matter. "Why?"
Sideswipe: Woooah, he's not gonna drop you, you don't need to be so close and why must you touch him like that it's distracting and he's trying to think of a coherent answer. "Because..." And he could answer that if he could just remember what the question was to begin with. "Wait, why what?" C'mon, it's not that important.
Blast Off: For Blast Off, it feels like the car is shrugging him off, and at the moment he has enough issues fueling him to make him resist it. (He doesn't want to be left alone.) Shuttle is oblivious about the effect his one hand is having on Sideswipe, though, and so it keeps doing what it does. "Why forget about it." Does that mean he should forget about Sideswipe staying too?
Sideswipe: Oh, Blast Off, you tease. "Because you'll think it's dumb." Sideswipe wiggles more, not intending to make Blast Off feel like that but it just feels so good, and Blast Off is rusting so he shouldn't even be thinking about that. He instinctively holds the other closer, damn, and Sideswipe will still be staying unless Blast Off freaks and doesn't want him to stay.
Blast Off: "I don't know what it is." Tiredness in his voice instead of the hostileness it usually would've had, fingers holding on tighter when the car squirms, missing that it's actually squirming and not just random movements. (Not to mention completely missing out on what other things Sideswipe wants to do with him.) He doesn't really think about him being pressed closer against the car, though. It's nice, sort of.
Sideswipe: "It's not even that-" Loosening up on his shoulder would be nice. "-important." He lets out a tiny whimper, Primus must hate him because why would he be putting him through this otherwise? Good thing Blast Off isn't minding the closeness, and their slow walk is stopped as Sideswipe's engine gives an almost-desperate whine. He needs to stop thinking and Blast Off needs to stop touching, asap.
Blast Off: "...alright." Too worn out to be like a tracker on a trail, he lets it go. Probably isn't important, and Sideswipe says it isn't, and Sideswipe is - can trust him. The shuttle makes a curious noise at the - was that a whimper? - sound the car makes, had they stopped? He holds onto the shoulder tighter. He doesn't want to be put down yet. Up here is sort of safe. Safer.
Sideswipe: Oh, good. No more questions. Less thinking (though still some, because it isn't bad if he thinks about it, right?). If they want to keep moving, that hand may need to be put somewhere else though. "Your hand is, uh..." Turning me on. "Tickling. Can you put it-" Deeper. "-somewhere else?" Not like Sideswipe plans on putting him down any time soon. He's even gotten used to the weight. Or perhaps he's just been distracted from the weight.
Blast Off: He mumbles somethng that might've been an apology, sliding his hand further down on the Autobot's shoulder to rest against the wheel there instead. His own landing gear isn't that particularly sensitive, and he doesn't see why a dirtkisser's wheels should be. And if the 'Bot suddenly did decide to put him down, the shuttle might freak out again. So far, nothing bad had happened when he had been with Sideswipe. A good trait, and the Combaticon sighs and looks down at the would-be feet of his, fingers digging slightly into the rubber of Sideswipe's tire.
Sideswipe: Okay, so maybe it was better when his hand was on his shoulder. Or it could be better on the wheel. All depends on where one wants to go with this. Sideswipe has been trying to keep it together this whole time. But there's only so much he can take before he just can't take any more, letting out a bitten-back moan, and wow some support right about now would be nice. It feels like his knees are going to give out on him, and another whimper when fingers dig into his tire. That feels nice.
Blast Off: Blast Off is, for lack of a better word, to damn out of it to connect Sideswipe's weird behavior with the hand on his wheel, rather thinking that the rust is getting to the car too. (Inferior materials, obviously.) He thrums uncertainly, what's going on? "Sideswipe?" Sligthly hesitant, and it's just pure instinct that makes him grab onto the tire more. It's the only safeline he has in case the mech drops him for some reason, and he's not about to let go just like that.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe is, for lack of a better word, too damn in to it to care about much else. "Mmm?" He can't even think of the other's name right now. Another whimper as his tire is unintentionally groped, why does Blast Off have to go for his tire when he's rusting?! No worries though. He's not about to let go of the mech that's getting him going, even if it is going to go nowhere.
Blast Off: More uncertain engine sounds. "Something wrong?" If there is, he could always try to fire at whatever is causing the trouble, hand easing up in case he has to fumble into his subspace to find his weapon. He doesn't let go, however, ready to grab onto the tire again if Sideswipe made some sort of evasive maneuver. Blast Off really is in no shape to get into a fight right though, lacking in both energy and limbs. He tries to look around without moving his head around too much.
Sideswipe: ... something wrong? Other than what he wants to do? In the middle of the hall with a mech who's rusting away? "Mmmno." Going by his feel-good instincts, he presses his tire against the shuttle's hand. Another moan, and perhaps a chair would be nice right about now.
Blast Off: ...was that a moan? Blast Off must be imagining things. Sideswipe moaning in this situation is just too bizarre. "...are we there?" He doesn't sound too thrilled about that, though. The shuttle attempts to indicate them stopping with his rusted stump, for a moment forgetting that there isn't an arm there. It only results in flakes falling off and floating down to the ground. Blast Off dims his optics till he can't really see anything. He's rusting up, being eaten up. Tire is squeezed, hard, as he in vain tries not to think about that.
Sideswipe: Screw waiting for chairs to magically pop up, Sideswipe needs something now. Oh look, a wall! He groans, mixing it with a whimper to make an odd, desperate sort of noise. "N-no." How can Blast Off not know what he's doing to the Lamborghini? "I just - ah - needed a break." He shuffles to lean his back against the wall, head falling back as he pushes his tire into the shuttle's hand again, holding Blast Off even closer.
Blast Off: The shuttle isn't all there, to tell the truth, but it's starting to leak through to him that Sideswipe is - not okay. He focuses his mind, Primus, if he had just had his other arm it'd be easier, and moves his arm upwards again to loop around the car's neck, and makes a brave try at lifting himself up to give the Autobot some relief - and failing. Too many tons and not enough energy. He ends up shifting himself slightly around, but puts his head back against Sideswipe's armor - now a bit higher up - when he gives it up. The shuttle mutters something quietly, if you listened closely it might've been a 'sorry.'
Sideswipe: Nooononono why is there stopping? Sideswipe makes a confused noise before remembering what he was supposed to be doing, and wow - does this day suck or what. He groans before pushing off the wall, still cradling the shuttle in his arms, engine giving off a hum and he really just wants to get to the medbay so he can put Blast Off down and put a little space between them for a bit - either that, or so Blast Off can get patched up and they can do other things. He really needs to stop thinking about that though. Maybe if the shuttle could keep his hands to himself he'd be able to.
Blast Off: Keep his hands to himself? Considering he only has one arm, that is a lot easier than Sideswipe might think. (Maybe if the Lamborghini wasn't so horny all the time he would be able to stop thinking about it.) Nevertheless, the one arm he has tightens around the car's neck, not too sure if he really minds stopping, since it means that they'll stay like for for a bit longer and the shuttle didn't have to rust alone. Without really putting much conscious thought into it, he mirrors the sport car's hum with some quiet thrumming of his own.
Sideswipe: Apparently not, because he still keeps touching him. (Not his fault Blast Off decided to fondle his tire.) Sideswipe doesn't make a move to keep walking, staying close to the wall in case he needs it again for now. He lifts his arms, holding Blast Off higher up against him.
Blast Off: Blast Off had to deal with both his feet and his arm rusting off while alone, he's not about to let the mech who came for him go just like that. Didn't want to be alone again, not now. Not when he's like this. Optics still dim, he speaks in a silent manner. "Sideswipe."
Sideswipe: Okay, maybe he does still need some support, but when he leans back against the wall it's for different reasons than before. Well, sort of. "Hmm?" Just as quiet, looking down at the ground (or in the ground's general direction), some faint humming coming from him.
Blast Off: The shuttle doesn't mind, even as he is crumbling. "Why..." He falls silent again. He pays no attention to the data streaming in from his legs, has sort of gotten used to it. Did this mean he was never going to see space again? "Why like?" He shifts, a small but noticeable piece of his knee-joint caving in against gravity and falling to the floor as the rust goes through the metal it was connected to.
Sideswipe: Why like? "..." Maybe he could find a way to get around it. All these thinking questions when he doesn't want to think. "... I think we should get you to the medbay before any more of you falls off." Probably not the answer Blast Off was looking for, but you gotta work with what you got.
Blast Off: A few fingers brushes over the red armor as he nods reluctantly, he didn't want medbay, but Sideswipe was going to be there, stop him from... weevils. And he really didn't want to lose more parts. But then again, he didn't think it would hurt any more than it already had.
Sideswipe: A light shiver runs through Sideswipe, but other than that he makes no other move for a few moments. Then, sighing, he gets up from the wall (again), walking in the direction he knows the medbay is in - and it's gotta be close, right? - slowly, still, to keep from jarring the shuttle.
Blast Off: Blast Off traces a ridge in the armorplate's design, absently and mostly because he wants some sort of sensory input that isn't wrong or off or just phantom data insisting on something that isn't real. Earth, the Pit, what was the difference.
Sideswipe: On second thought, the silence is even worse than having to think. "What did you mean...'why like'?"
Blast Off: Like? "Why like?" He thought it hadn't mattered to the car. Maybe it didn't. "You like someone." Blast Off isn't too familiar with that, apart from odd loneliness-inspired interests in particular mechs.
Sideswipe: It must look weird; Sideswipe carrying half a Blast Off. He totally just found him randomly in a hallway, just for the record. The Lamborghini sighs, finally medbay.
Blast Off: Totally random indeed. Blast Off doesn't relax that much as he hears the noises of the medbay, rather the opposite, complete with hand gripping that ridge he was stroking. Don't like.
Perceptor: It's late in the solar cycle, and most everyone in the auxiliary medbay is recharging at the moment; except for Perceptor, who is simultaneously looking up the chemical formula for bleach and examining samples of infected metal.
Sideswipe: They're so close, so close and... damn. Sideswipe stands to the side, huffing and readjusting the shuttle in his hands for the nine thousandth time this night. ::Uh, anyone in there?:: Open uuuup.
Perceptor: Perceptor looks up, glancing towards the door as he responds, ::Yes; if you are not infected, please utilize your holoform. If not, I will open the door for you.:: He's not being rude, he's just absorbed in his work.
Blast Off: He remains silent, attempting to put effort into helping but mostly just holds onto the car a bit tighter. He wouldn't be left there, right?
Sideswipe: ::I, uh, we're both... infected.:: Fortunately. He feels the grip tighten and instead of shrugging his shoulders he holds the other closer.
Perceptor: ::Ah.:: The door slides open, and he immediately leaves his samples to prep the two inhibitors for the newcomers.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe takes a cautious step inside - more like a cautious shuffle - looking around nervously. So much for no one knowing about them.
Blast Off: Tentative, almost anxious thrums, too low to be really heard - but most likely Sideswipe can feel them, since he's holding the shuttle so close. Blast Off is really less concerned about their acquaintance being made public, and more worried about the medbay itself. If he spots any weevils, he'll grab for his weapon and shoot to kill.
Perceptor: "Oh dear..." Perceptor practically rushes over, applying the inhibitor. "You waited /this long/ to bring yourself in?" He's shocked at the sight, and is sorely tempted to whap Blast Off on the head. Perhaps Hook has rubbed off on him...
Sideswipe: "I would have brought him in sooner... if I had known." He's still holding Blast Off protectively close, watching Perceptor intently.
Blast Off: Pardon the shuttle for not strolling into medbay because of rather sensitive tactile clusters rotting away while still sending data back to his processors. Not to mention that he doesn't like medics. Which is expressed with a hard squeeze of Sideswipe-parts and a surprised yelp-like sound from the shuttle. He didn't know this new red Pitspawn, and he's not about to like him just because he's the same color as Sideswipe.
Perceptor: "...this is not good. If you had not come sooner...I do not know to what degree it will slow the oxidation, with how advanced the spread is." Perceptor then moves to Sideswipe, applying another inhibitor, and ushers them over to an empty berth,"Place him here, please."
Sideswipe: Sideswipe follows Perceptor (slowly), not saying anything, stopping when he reaches the berth. Now, how to do this... "Here?" Slowly, so slowly, he bends, lowering Blast Off until most of the shuttle's weight is supported by the berth, then carefully moving his arm out from under his legs.
Blast Off: Shuttle is reluctant to let go of Sideswipe, but he's also reluctant to let that reluctance show. Not bothering to answer Perceptor, though he does take some note of what the 'Bot says, somewhere. He refuses to lie down on the berth, however, hand still maintaining contact with the Lamborghini. Remember what you said, Autobot.
Perceptor: "Lie down; where are your limbs?" They need to be brought in to prevent others from becoming infected, and so that they can be treated as well. The less parts the medics need to create, the better.
Sideswipe: The hand that he just freed moves to beside the shuttle, supporting his weight so he doesn't lean against Blast Off. Hovering over the shuttle - he remembers! - he turns his head to answer Perceptor. "They're in his room."
Blast Off: Impossible to miss too, when you enter it - the room, that is. Blast Off valiantly tries to stay upright, but with low energy-reserves and only 1/4th of his limbs remaining, it's difficult, and he slowly sinks down onto the berth. Some vague nodding to confirm what Sideswipe just said. They hadn't had enough hands to bring them, to be honest.
Perceptor: Perceptor shakes his head slightly, "They will need to be retrieved. Ah, what is your name?" He doesn't like helping to treat a patient he doesn't know the name of.
Blast Off: Yes, the Combaticon'll get them as soon as he can get a hold of a cart. "Blast Off." That he's a 'Con should be obvious, that he's not fond of Autobots maybe less so.
Sideswipe: "Sideswipe." He doesn't really have a choice but to go down with Blast Off, still hovering, though the distance between them is slightly less - his other hand moving from the shuttle's back to the other side of him, adding support that a part of him doesn't really want right now.
Perceptor: The scientist nods, "I am Perceptor." He examines Blast Off more closely, looking to see how far the rust had spread. "The medics make rounds regularly to distribute the inhibitor; I also have access to it.”
Blast Off: Stuck between Sideswipe and a medic. The shuttle doesn't like this too much, but chooses to favor Sideswipe, rather-but-not-really subtly shifting closer to him. Though... "Inhibitor?"
Perceptor: Perceptor nods again, taking a small step backwards. "Yes. It slows the oxidation process. ...I don't mean to be rude, but I must get back to my work."
Blast Off: Shuttle is fine with that, and nods instead of saying anything. He was tired, and not being carried around anymore, the medic was going away and things were quiet. A light pull on Sideswipe's arm, the hold slowly going slack. (To serve and protect?)
Perceptor: He's not a medic, just a very well-read scientist; Perceptor smiles at them, then returns to his samples, quick to lose himself in them again.
Sideswipe: Sideswipe slowly pulls away from the shuttle, intentions not to leave the shuttle, just... get a bit more space for now.
Blast Off: Optics having dwindled into offline modus, the Combaticon won't notice unless the car also pulls away from his hand, which is still on the mech's arm, more resting than holding.
Sideswipe: Well then. Sideswipe won't pull away, yet, though he does sit on the edge of the berth, not sure what Blast Off wants him to do and trying to give him as much space as possible. If he even wants space, that is.
Blast Off: The shuttle doesn't know what he wants, even less so what he's doing. All he knows is that he's running out of energy, but is in medbay which means that he can't recharge - shouldn't recharge. Clinging to consciousness, he ups the pressure on Sideswipe's arm. Can't rest, can't be awake, he's between a rock and a hard place and quickly losing.
Sideswipe: He'll take that squeeze as a 'don't leave me' and stays right where he is, shifting his body to be slightly closer to Blast Off.
Blast Off: The mech sending the message isn't complaining - or thinking of complaining - so the Lamborghini must've interpreted it right. He strays between the different levels of awareness for some long moments before he caves in and falls into recharge, the grip not lessening overly much.