24th Transmission -- [Commentlog?]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ironhide isn't using his comm. He refuses to admit that anything happened over a public channel. Instead, he's dragging his aft away from deck 3. He moves stiffly, leaning heavily on a wall as he limps along

Comments

[medicalofficer]

[Ratchet is in his quarters, distracting himself with the small stack of books that he has amassed.

He's not in the best moods, thanks to the combination of Ironhide's thick-headedness and his conversation with Ganondorf - and is taking out his frustrations on the human medical text.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[It takes him a while, but he finally makes it to the door, and leans against it with a thud. He fumbles around for the doorknob, missing it entirely.]

Doc'... you in...?

[medicalofficer]

[The noise catches him off guard, making him twitch. Setting the book down, he glances up at the door, adjusting his optics to see passed the wood.]

Ironhide?

[heavyweaponsbot]

Yea--

[There's a burst of static from his vocals, while he lets the pain pass. It's still there... but less debilitating.]

Open this.

[medicalofficer]

...

[The static was enough to have him on his feet, rushing to the door. Something wasn't right.

He threw open the door, his hands automatically seeking out Ironhide's shoulders. That idiot.]

What in the pit have you-

Who is responsible for this?

[... Though, he had a very good idea.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[The support came just at the right moment, and he sagged against Ratchet, reaching up to grasp his wrists. It was stupid to go--to fight with the organic at all, he knew that. But...]

Quit... asking stupid questions... just...

[His hand slides off one wrist, clutching at his chest armor.]

Fix it.

[medicalofficer]

You are an idiot.

[He couldn't help but say it, bracing his weight against him as he moved to guide him inside. Already, he was running preliminary scans to figure out where the damage lay, though from the way he was grasping his chest, it was easy to tell where the worst of it lay.

He wasn't sure how much he could accomplish without the additional tools from the engineer, but he would do what he could.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

Yeah...

[He wasn't in the mood to argue that--not when it was actually true. He held onto the other, letting himself be dragged around in a familiar ritual. No use protesting, no sense protesting.

This at least, was one exam he wouldn't fidget for.]

... Sorry. For this.

[medicalofficer]

Do you purposely turn off your audios when I warn you that your frame cannot take this sort of abuse? The damage done to your chest armor was already severe, without you charging headfirst into dangerous situations...

[He mutters a few things in Cybertronian as he steers him to the closest wall, helping him ease down onto the floor. Berating him now would do nothing, but it felt like the only way he could vent how furious he was with the situation - and how helpless he felt, having Ironhide come back to him in this state.

It was infuriating as a medic, but moreso as his friend.]

You had best pull through, Ironhide, or so help me, I will pound sense into your head yet.

[heavyweaponsbot]

Yeah... What could one organic... do against me?

[He's used to the ranting. It's oddly comforting. He sinks down onto the floor, groaning quietly. His frame twitches every so often, intakes hitching. Really shouldn't have done this - he knows it upsets the other. Especially now.]

Even if... just going to come back... you know.

[medicalofficer]

Clearly, more than enough.

[Finally allowing himself to settle, Ratchet got his first clear look at the damage that had been done by his attacker. The wiring, he could fix. The damage from the energy blasts was a bit more questionable - He would need to take it easy, for certain.

Leaning in closer to see just what he had left to work with of the wiring, he lets a soft sigh of air escape his intakes.]

That is hardly the point. I... would not wish to lose a patient, even temporarily.

[heavyweaponsbot]

... Guess so.

[His optics shutter, with another spasm. He concentrates on staying still long enough for Ratchet to take a look--he's had worse before. He can take this.

Gears grind, as panels slowly start to slide open, for better inspection. He does, however, open one optic briefly, and rest his hand on the other's chest.]

Too stubborn for that... and you know it.

[medicalofficer]

[While it was not a full capacity, his internal heating would be warm enough to melt the wiring so that it could be reconnected. The metal was delicate enough that it would not require an extremely high temperature - though he was warm enough that Ironhide could likely feel the heat in his chest.

Attuning his optics for magnification, he set to work carefully melting the broken ends, figuring out how much length had been taken by Ganondorf's attack. He had enough scrap metal that he should be able to accommodate for the missing materials.]

None of us are immortal, much though you might like to think so. You cannot endlessly abuse your body, and hope for the best - We all have limits.

I do not want to bear witness to the day when you discover what yours are.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Every little bit helped. Even if it was just a few reconnected wires, the long-familiar ritual of Ratchet working on him was comforting. He sighs, somewhat relaxing, despite the continued pain.]

... Know that. I am... made to take abuse... more than anyone...

[He grips the other's armor, tightly.]

Not leaving you.

[medicalofficer]

[Dealing with the wires first helped to at least allow him a clearer view of Ironhide's spark casing - which looked as though it had taken a beating as well. He was fortunate that he was built as strong as he was; Ratchet knew a lesser bot would not have been able to withstand a charge such as that.

Which only made him want to hit him with a wrench all the more.]

That does not mean you should test that.

[He pauses, his head still lowered so that he doesn't have to meet his optics.]

You have yet to - However, when you pull stunts like this, there are times I worry.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He'd withstood it, but that didn't mean it was undamaged. And likely the source of the constant, pulsing pain. He kept his optics shuttered, his hand on the other's chest armor.]

... Yeah. Yeah. Just... it was a challenge...

[A stupid reason, but he had to give some reason.]

Never mean to make you... worry. To hurt you.