FIC: Topics of Conversation (Human Series)
Topics of Conversation
By Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Bumblebee/Sam, Others
Rated PG
Summary: A continuation of the ‘human’ series, which are in order:
Forms of Life
Too Human
Experiments in Human Nature
Public Education
Knee-Jerk Reaction
Nervous System Hypothesis
Different Applications of Moral Support
This Body Electric
The Unconscious Mind
Subliminal Messages
Greeks Bearing Gifts
In a Dark Ruby Stain
Interruptions in the Key of C
Half to Rise, Half to Fall
Moments of Forgiveness
Also the AU Attention Getting Device
Notes: This isn't as long a piece as I would have liked, but I was a little surprised to see how many people were waiting for the next part, so I figured I'd get this out for y'all with a promise of more soon. We can also thank my autosave for catching this before my computer shut down on me earlier. Whew. Enjoy. :)
~~*~~
It was much later when it occurred to Sam that this was the first time he'd come to the infirmary with an actual injury. Even his last little extended stay couldn't count considering that he'd actually gotten hurt while he was already inside. Later, he'd think of that and almost appreciate the irony of it. At the moment, it was all he could do to push at the heavy door, cradling his injured wrist as best he could as he shouldered it open. Even so, hot throbs of pain shot up his arm and Sam had to stifle a whimper, biting his lip hard as he staggered inside.
Across the room, he could see Ratchet hunched over his work table, tried to work his too-dry tongue enough to call to him. He never had a chance. Ratchet was already turning towards him, hydraulics shifting his weight as he turned towards the door.
"This had better be--" he began, irritably, and cut off abruptly when he saw Sam. His holo form came into existence so quickly that it blurred, catching him by his uninjured arm and lowering him into a chair. "What happened?" he demanded brusquely, his hands almost unbearably gentle as they moved over his wrist.
"I tripped. Caught myself but I must've twisted my wrist wrong."
Both his holo form and his robot body gave Sam a sharp look, the odd doubled effect making him feel faintly dizzy. "You might want to work on that story before you try telling it to anyone else. Your heart rate leapt when you said it."
Hands moved quickly and efficiently and in a moment he was enclosing Sam's forearm into this weird metal bracelet looking thing. It was loaded with wires and when Ratchet snapped it shut, it was like his arm had ceased to exist. He sighed weakly in relief and started leaning back, stopped when his arm didn't come with him.
"Hold still," Ratchet murmured, doing...something. Sam didn’t know and couldn't feel it even if he did. It was easier to sit here with his mind blank, waiting for a lecture that didn't seem to be coming. Ratchet was making plenty of noise, both his robot form which had come closer and was crouching next to them, and his holo form, strong hands moving over Sam's arm, but they were mostly little wordless murmurs and clicks.
"I kind of thought you'd be lecturing me," Sam mumbled, tiredly.
"No," Ratchet said, simply. "I don't lecture because I enjoy it, Sam." No reproach at all in his voice and it was worse, somehow. If he was all scolding and cranky, Sam could have blown it off the same way he had dozens of parental lectures over the years
"I'm sorry."
"So am I. You do realize that I don't enjoy seeing anyone in pain." Another delicate twist of his fingers over the contraption he'd set Sam's arm in and there was something about his hands, moving, an odd gracefulness to them and to his horror, Sam felt himself hardening and oh, my god, this was Ratchet, who was old and looked a little like Andy Griffith, this was so, so wrong.
"Wait, I need..." Instinctively, Sam tried to pull away, every impulse inside him begging for him to get the heck out of here and go someplace where he could just die.
"Hold still."
"Just...I mean, for a second..." Please. Until sanity resumed.
"Sam, I am fully aware of your sexual arousal," Ratchet said irritably, holding his arm still. "And interrupting my work isn't going to make me unaware. I am neither interested nor offended, so hold still. Humans..."
Well, since his humiliation was pretty much complete, anyway...Sam mutely relaxed and let Ratchet continue to molest his arm while his own body responded in pretty much the most inappropriate way possible.
The silence must have been a little disconcerting to Ratchet as well, because after long moments of working, he spoke again. "So, you fell?" Ratchet prompted.
"Yeah."
"And this?" A fingertip lightly touched his mouth. Sam licked his lip and winced, tasting blood from the cut.
"I guess I bit my lip." Sam widened his eyes deliberately.
"That's somewhat better," Ratchet said dryly. "You may be able to fool Ironhide with that lie."
Sam shrugged and then winced when Ratchet glared at him, holding his arm still. Come to think of it, he looked a lot like Andy Griffith.
"Why did you choose this form as your hologram?" Sam asked, a little blearily. Was that whose-a-ma-whatcher giving him some kind of pain killer? "Everyone else has gone with...I dunno. Younger.
"I've noticed that your people respond better to authority figures who are older," Ratchet said absently.
"So you don't think of this as your human equivalent?"
"I don't have a human equivalent." Dryly. "I'm considerably older than any possible conversion. I would have been considered old by your standards before we even realized organic species existed."
"Seriously?"
"Oh, yes."
It was like his brain and his mouth weren't wired properly together anymore. "Is that why you don't like me being with Bumblebee?"
"I told you where my concerns lie," His eyes flicked up and met Sam's, the faint glow in them was disturbing in a way that it never was with Bumblebee. It was like Ratchet could see straight into his heart and suddenly realizing exactly how old Ratchet was unsettling, almost like a god was gently repairing his wrist.
"I am old," Ratchet acknowledged, and it made Sam start a little, like Ratchet had plucked the idea straight from his thoughts. "Old enough to have seen many, many of these relationships and to have seen them end. It is never pleasant. Sam, how long do humans live?"
"I don't know...seventy, eighty years?"
"Bumblebee is over a thousand of your human years old."
"You think he's too old for me?" Sam asked, feeling stupid and blurry.
"We are beings of flawless memory. Barring corruption or death, if we wish, we can recall every instance in our lives. A thousand years from now, Bumblebee will remember the exact shade of your eyes, the way your skin feels, every single instance of making love to you and you will have been dead for a thousand years and there will be nothing he can do to stop it."
That was...actually kind of horrible to think about. Bumblebee, alone, replaying his memories over and over like some kind of old television program. "You're saying a thousand years from now he'll...what? Still be missing me?"
"He will mourn you forever." Still very gentle, his hands moving further up Sam's arm, to where he could actually feel. "Autobots have been known to mourn their lost loves until the last bit of spark separates from their systems."
"So you want me to break up with him now, is that it?" Harshly because it wasn't fair, he didn't want that for Bumblebee but how was it his fault humans didn't live very long? And hey, maybe life was short, did that mean he didn't he deserve some happiness, too?
Ratchet gave him a withering look. "It would hardly hurt less for him to lose you now than then. No...I told you before Sam, none of this is your fault. I'm angry at my impotence, not at you. I would have spared Bumblebee this pain if I could. Had I known his emotions ran so deeply, I never would have encouraged him."
"Yeah?" Sam asked, groggily. He was starting to see a weird halo around the lamps, little colored rainbows at the edge of his vision. "So who was it that you loved? Have they been dead a thousand years?"
Ratchet went very still. "Perceptive," he murmured, not looking up. "He died in the war."
"If you'd known, would you have taken it back?"
Ratchet's fingers stilled, his eyes lingering on the bandage for a long moment before they finally rose to meet Sam's. His smile was bitter.
"Not a millisecond," Ratchet said. His robotic form leaned in closer, the soft whir and hiss of machinery close enough to make Sam squint towards him, swaying.
"You know, that's really weird. Why are you looking at it twice?"
"I see better with my own eyes," Ratchet said absently.
"I thought you told me when an Autobot is in a holoform, he is that form."
Both robot and hologram paused in their work long enough to give him eerily similar dirty looks. "Next time you have a splinter, try to remove it while looking through binoculars and let me know how that works for you."
Sam hadn't worked out a good reply to that when the door burst open, Optimus's large form pushing forcefully inside.
Brilliant. Sam slouched back in his chair as much as he could and covered his face with his free hand. This was about to get worse. He thought faintly of Bumblebee, both wishing he was here and relieved that he wasn't.
Better to bask in weird Cybertronion pain meds than deal with it. For now.
-finis-
Read Next Chapter
Read the AU Chapter!
By Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Bumblebee/Sam, Others
Rated PG
Summary: A continuation of the ‘human’ series, which are in order:
Forms of Life
Too Human
Experiments in Human Nature
Public Education
Knee-Jerk Reaction
Nervous System Hypothesis
Different Applications of Moral Support
This Body Electric
The Unconscious Mind
Subliminal Messages
Greeks Bearing Gifts
In a Dark Ruby Stain
Interruptions in the Key of C
Half to Rise, Half to Fall
Moments of Forgiveness
Also the AU Attention Getting Device
Notes: This isn't as long a piece as I would have liked, but I was a little surprised to see how many people were waiting for the next part, so I figured I'd get this out for y'all with a promise of more soon. We can also thank my autosave for catching this before my computer shut down on me earlier. Whew. Enjoy. :)
~~*~~
It was much later when it occurred to Sam that this was the first time he'd come to the infirmary with an actual injury. Even his last little extended stay couldn't count considering that he'd actually gotten hurt while he was already inside. Later, he'd think of that and almost appreciate the irony of it. At the moment, it was all he could do to push at the heavy door, cradling his injured wrist as best he could as he shouldered it open. Even so, hot throbs of pain shot up his arm and Sam had to stifle a whimper, biting his lip hard as he staggered inside.
Across the room, he could see Ratchet hunched over his work table, tried to work his too-dry tongue enough to call to him. He never had a chance. Ratchet was already turning towards him, hydraulics shifting his weight as he turned towards the door.
"This had better be--" he began, irritably, and cut off abruptly when he saw Sam. His holo form came into existence so quickly that it blurred, catching him by his uninjured arm and lowering him into a chair. "What happened?" he demanded brusquely, his hands almost unbearably gentle as they moved over his wrist.
"I tripped. Caught myself but I must've twisted my wrist wrong."
Both his holo form and his robot body gave Sam a sharp look, the odd doubled effect making him feel faintly dizzy. "You might want to work on that story before you try telling it to anyone else. Your heart rate leapt when you said it."
Hands moved quickly and efficiently and in a moment he was enclosing Sam's forearm into this weird metal bracelet looking thing. It was loaded with wires and when Ratchet snapped it shut, it was like his arm had ceased to exist. He sighed weakly in relief and started leaning back, stopped when his arm didn't come with him.
"Hold still," Ratchet murmured, doing...something. Sam didn’t know and couldn't feel it even if he did. It was easier to sit here with his mind blank, waiting for a lecture that didn't seem to be coming. Ratchet was making plenty of noise, both his robot form which had come closer and was crouching next to them, and his holo form, strong hands moving over Sam's arm, but they were mostly little wordless murmurs and clicks.
"I kind of thought you'd be lecturing me," Sam mumbled, tiredly.
"No," Ratchet said, simply. "I don't lecture because I enjoy it, Sam." No reproach at all in his voice and it was worse, somehow. If he was all scolding and cranky, Sam could have blown it off the same way he had dozens of parental lectures over the years
"I'm sorry."
"So am I. You do realize that I don't enjoy seeing anyone in pain." Another delicate twist of his fingers over the contraption he'd set Sam's arm in and there was something about his hands, moving, an odd gracefulness to them and to his horror, Sam felt himself hardening and oh, my god, this was Ratchet, who was old and looked a little like Andy Griffith, this was so, so wrong.
"Wait, I need..." Instinctively, Sam tried to pull away, every impulse inside him begging for him to get the heck out of here and go someplace where he could just die.
"Hold still."
"Just...I mean, for a second..." Please. Until sanity resumed.
"Sam, I am fully aware of your sexual arousal," Ratchet said irritably, holding his arm still. "And interrupting my work isn't going to make me unaware. I am neither interested nor offended, so hold still. Humans..."
Well, since his humiliation was pretty much complete, anyway...Sam mutely relaxed and let Ratchet continue to molest his arm while his own body responded in pretty much the most inappropriate way possible.
The silence must have been a little disconcerting to Ratchet as well, because after long moments of working, he spoke again. "So, you fell?" Ratchet prompted.
"Yeah."
"And this?" A fingertip lightly touched his mouth. Sam licked his lip and winced, tasting blood from the cut.
"I guess I bit my lip." Sam widened his eyes deliberately.
"That's somewhat better," Ratchet said dryly. "You may be able to fool Ironhide with that lie."
Sam shrugged and then winced when Ratchet glared at him, holding his arm still. Come to think of it, he looked a lot like Andy Griffith.
"Why did you choose this form as your hologram?" Sam asked, a little blearily. Was that whose-a-ma-whatcher giving him some kind of pain killer? "Everyone else has gone with...I dunno. Younger.
"I've noticed that your people respond better to authority figures who are older," Ratchet said absently.
"So you don't think of this as your human equivalent?"
"I don't have a human equivalent." Dryly. "I'm considerably older than any possible conversion. I would have been considered old by your standards before we even realized organic species existed."
"Seriously?"
"Oh, yes."
It was like his brain and his mouth weren't wired properly together anymore. "Is that why you don't like me being with Bumblebee?"
"I told you where my concerns lie," His eyes flicked up and met Sam's, the faint glow in them was disturbing in a way that it never was with Bumblebee. It was like Ratchet could see straight into his heart and suddenly realizing exactly how old Ratchet was unsettling, almost like a god was gently repairing his wrist.
"I am old," Ratchet acknowledged, and it made Sam start a little, like Ratchet had plucked the idea straight from his thoughts. "Old enough to have seen many, many of these relationships and to have seen them end. It is never pleasant. Sam, how long do humans live?"
"I don't know...seventy, eighty years?"
"Bumblebee is over a thousand of your human years old."
"You think he's too old for me?" Sam asked, feeling stupid and blurry.
"We are beings of flawless memory. Barring corruption or death, if we wish, we can recall every instance in our lives. A thousand years from now, Bumblebee will remember the exact shade of your eyes, the way your skin feels, every single instance of making love to you and you will have been dead for a thousand years and there will be nothing he can do to stop it."
That was...actually kind of horrible to think about. Bumblebee, alone, replaying his memories over and over like some kind of old television program. "You're saying a thousand years from now he'll...what? Still be missing me?"
"He will mourn you forever." Still very gentle, his hands moving further up Sam's arm, to where he could actually feel. "Autobots have been known to mourn their lost loves until the last bit of spark separates from their systems."
"So you want me to break up with him now, is that it?" Harshly because it wasn't fair, he didn't want that for Bumblebee but how was it his fault humans didn't live very long? And hey, maybe life was short, did that mean he didn't he deserve some happiness, too?
Ratchet gave him a withering look. "It would hardly hurt less for him to lose you now than then. No...I told you before Sam, none of this is your fault. I'm angry at my impotence, not at you. I would have spared Bumblebee this pain if I could. Had I known his emotions ran so deeply, I never would have encouraged him."
"Yeah?" Sam asked, groggily. He was starting to see a weird halo around the lamps, little colored rainbows at the edge of his vision. "So who was it that you loved? Have they been dead a thousand years?"
Ratchet went very still. "Perceptive," he murmured, not looking up. "He died in the war."
"If you'd known, would you have taken it back?"
Ratchet's fingers stilled, his eyes lingering on the bandage for a long moment before they finally rose to meet Sam's. His smile was bitter.
"Not a millisecond," Ratchet said. His robotic form leaned in closer, the soft whir and hiss of machinery close enough to make Sam squint towards him, swaying.
"You know, that's really weird. Why are you looking at it twice?"
"I see better with my own eyes," Ratchet said absently.
"I thought you told me when an Autobot is in a holoform, he is that form."
Both robot and hologram paused in their work long enough to give him eerily similar dirty looks. "Next time you have a splinter, try to remove it while looking through binoculars and let me know how that works for you."
Sam hadn't worked out a good reply to that when the door burst open, Optimus's large form pushing forcefully inside.
Brilliant. Sam slouched back in his chair as much as he could and covered his face with his free hand. This was about to get worse. He thought faintly of Bumblebee, both wishing he was here and relieved that he wasn't.
Better to bask in weird Cybertronion pain meds than deal with it. For now.
-finis-
Read Next Chapter
Read the AU Chapter!