Nanosnipmo - Day 6
Ratchet had expected a cluster of anxious gestaltmates outside the medbay as he began the surgery to repair Streetwise’s broken leg strut, but he hadn’t really expected NINE anxious gestaltmates. Although to be fair, the Protectobots had been more curious and interested than anxious, and First Aid in particular had been disappointed not to be allowed to help with the surgery. Ratchet got the feeling, given the budding medic’s track record so far, that First Aid would have been fine and not panicked or overreacted to the sight of his offline brother, but in the end he decided against it for the sake of First Aid’s recovery from his own injuries. The surgery was more involved than usual for a strut repair due to the specialized construction related to Streetwise’s function in their gestalt form, and Ratchet really didn’t want Aid on his feet for that long.
He made a final adjustment, ran one last calibration, nodding in satisfaction at the results. Ratchet closed up Streetwise’s leg armor and triggered the sequence to bring him back online. Blue optics lit quickly, blinking up at him.
“Ratchet?”
“Repairs are all done, Streetwise. You did great.”
“Done?” Streetwise craned his neck a little, looking down at his leg, now missing its brace. “Wow, that was fast!”
“Fast from your point of view, maybe,” Ratchet chuckled. “That took me nearly two joors.”
“Thanks, Ratchet,” Streetwise said. Ratchet put a cautionary hand on his chestplates as the sparkling sat up with his customary lack of ‘staying still in one place’ skills, even after major surgery. Ratchet was pleased to see that he had regained much of his usual energy, and along with the rest of his brothers seemed well on his way to recovery. Even First Aid was doing much better than he could have hoped, and although the long-term effects of cannon disrupter blasts, especially at such close range, could be unpredictable...well, so far so good.
“No weight on that leg just yet, not until everything’s finished annealing. You sit here and I’ll let the rest of the miscreants in.”
“Miscreants?” Streetwise repeated, laughing and tilting his helm. “That sounds like a Perceptor word.”
Ratchet opened the medbay doors to the waiting mechs outside. The Protectobots, of course, had known the klik Streetwise had come back online and were waiting eagerly, along with all five Aerialbots.
“Is he ok?” Air Raid preempted Hot Spot to ask. “How did everything go?”
“Streetwise is fine, his leg should be good as ever once the repairs settle, and yes, you can come see him as long as there is no wrestling around and no one touches anything." Ratchet gave them all (especially the Aerialbots) his best Ratchet-glare.
“Streetwise!” Not particularly subdued by his warning, the whole lot of them tromped in, followed by the usual hugging and reassurances required for the reunion of a gestalt member, along with mild arguing over who got to carry Streetwise around for the remaining joor or so until he could put full weight on his leg. Ratchet sent First Aid a detailed file of the strut repairs and the sparkling gave him a happy smile.
“All right, all right!” Ratchet raised his voice over the clamor, and took Fireflight by the wing before he could get tangled in jumper cables again. “All of you lot, out of here, and take this one with you. Streetwise, your leg might be a little sore once the neural block wears off, but it shouldn’t be painful to walk on. If anything feels off, let me know right away, and I want you and your brothers back here in two shifts so I can clear you for duty.”
Hot Spot had pulled rank for the privilege of carrying Streetwise first, but paused with his brother halfway slung on his back.
“Clear for duty...you mean, we can finally help fix the base!?”
“Light duty only for you, young mech,” Ratchet emphasized, tapping First Aid on the shoulder, “but yes, you’ll all be able to help.”
“Whee hoo!” Streetwise cheered, and Hot Spot jiggled him the rest of the way onto his back, a big smile breaking across his face.
“Oh, yeah. Great.” Slingshot rolled his optics.
“Less work for us,” Silverbolt reminded him, giving Ratchet a grin and steering his brothers towards the door.
The Protectobots were already excitedly making plans as they left, something about relocating entire corridors, improving connectivity, and redesigning layouts. Ratchet, listening to them, raised an optic ridge. Just what was he about to unleash?
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