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Well, if they had a mutual agreement to take time away from each other, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all. Still, Wheeljack knew better than to assume everything would be hunky-dory; it was his preference to do the opposite. Plan for the worst and hope for the best, but not be too disappointed if things didn’t turn out to be sunshine and rainbows and clear sailing.
“I’m glad my being horribly injured has given you a good excuse to get out of the house, Doc,” Normally, such a phrase would be injected with no small amount of sarcasm, but this time around it was surprisingly sincere if a little teasing. Humor was an effective way to cover up for any emotional stumbling, and he subscribed to the ‘fake it ‘till you make it’ school of thought. “Everyone else gettin’ on your nerves lately and you didn’t stare ‘em all into submission? Don’t tell me you’re goin’ rusty on us, Sunshine!” Wheeljack gave Ratchet a cocky little grin, and then proceeded to gently heckle even further by stating the obvious. “Maybe those tools of yours ought to be put away when you aren’t usin’ ‘em, so they don’t get broken. S’what you’re supposed to do around sparklings that age.”
After spending so many centuries on his own wandering the galaxy with only himself to worry about, it certainly was a challenge to adjust to the fact that he had others he could call upon. In theory, he indeed knew that he had backup. Out of the whole lot of them, Wheeljack considered Bulkhead to be the most capable in terms of pure punching power. Miko, though a pipsqueak, was also shaping up to be a Wrecker in all but size. And the third name Ratchet mentioned? He had a feeling he knew exactly who it was.
Old habits died hard, though, and it had long been ingrained in him that he had only himself to rely upon. It would take Wheeljack a long, long time to acclimate to the fact that he had others he could call on when things got tough… and even then, he’d likely still use that option sparingly. Even during the War, he’d preferred to do a lot of solo work.
Still… knowing he wasn’t alone anymore was nice. It brought a strange tightness to his chest that he couldn’t quite place.
“What you’re sayin’ is you want me to come visit more, then? Thought you couldn’t stand my ugly mug around,” he casually drawled, and if his voice hitched slightly at the onset of the phrase, he mulishly refused to recognize it. “Do what you need to do with the leg to fix it, just give me a heads up if you wanna do something drastic like amputate or something.” Not that Wheeljack thought that was likely (if it had to be amputated, Ratchet would have had it off last night), but dry humor served him well… And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to hear the medic chuckle again.
Ratchet settled down in front of him to start working on his leg, and Wheeljack was content to let him do his work. Unfortunately for Wheeljack, the Wrecker did not have the benefit of being completely out of it to help numb the pain and distract from the uncomfortable sensation of having the thick armour plating be carefully but firmly pried away for a second time. No bot enjoyed the feeling, but Wheeljack even less so - he felt exposed and vulnerable, even despite the fact that it was only one section of armour. As soon as he saw the delicate inner workings of his own leg, he quickly averted his gaze.
Under normal circumstances, he’d be getting squirrelly within the first few seconds. It wasn’t that he was squeamish or anything: he’d fought in the entirety of the War, and had been a Wrecker, and thus he was rather desensitized to most things. It was just… the sight of his own circuitry made him a tad bit uncomfortable. By all means, he ought to have started fidgeting and squirming by now, but Ratchet’s calm demeanour and soothing words somehow helped to keep the squirreliness to a minimum. He was accomplishing something every other medic that had had the misfortune of having to deal with the Wreckers had failed to do.
That didn’t mean Wheeljack didn’t wince when the pain flared up, though. And despite Ratchet’s careful work as the damaged circuit was found and fixed, it ended up hurting a lot. Funny how such a little thing could cause so much annoyance!
“I don’t doubt that. You take good care of people,” He said, gently, and then quickly looked away to hide just how surprised he was by his own comment. What was with him today? Since when did his shameless teasing become sincere? Normally, it was his absolute pleasure to mercilessly flirt with others in order to rile them up, but the entire situation changed when he began to actually mean it. What had changed? Wheeljack had no idea, but he was happier to pretend that nothing had happened at all. “-I mean, I didn’t kick the bucket last night, so obviously you're doing something right.“
Passing out seemed like a great idea if only to now escape the awkwardness, but it figured that he now felt as far from sleep as he could possibly get.
"Well I'm not glad that you're injured, just so you know. My only relief, even if it isn't of much use to you, is that you will recover and that this is my one excuse to get away from the base for awhile." Playful annoyance quickly took over Ratchet's face, though he hadn't minded the comment, honestly. That little bit of teasing he'd heard in there just meant that Wheeljack was feeling better, and that was exactly what he'd hoped for. At the Wrecker's further attempts of poking fun at him, all of which the medic was fully aware was all teasing, Ratchet only found himself that more flustered. The mech could barely form a few words without sputtering. "You don't.. I mean.. You.. Just.." He groaned, resting his helm in his hand. "..You get a kick out of this don't you?" Even with his forehead and optics covered, if Wheeljack looked closely enough, he could almost see what was a hint of a smile.
Even if the Wrecker had somehow figured out that he was the third one he'd mentioned, Ratchet didn't actually expect him to come to his aid for anything aside from medical problems. That was what his specialty was, after all. Ratchet wasn't a fighter, though he could hold his own for a little while if need be. He'd known how to weaponize some of his tools, and he'd use them to defend himself if that's what he needed to do, or.. to protect someone. He'd be surprised if Wheeljack actually called him out to aid him for anything other than his intended purpose.
Either way, it seemed that he was catching on. "I.. never said that. Perhaps I felt that way at first, but.. things change. I realized that when we went into the forest together that one day. Being alone together like that made me realize you're more than just an annoyance. By giving you a chance, even if it felt forced at first.. I learned that we actually work fairly well together when we just put our differences aside for a little while." Once he'd grabbed his medkit, he began his work on the younger mech's leg, apologizing for any pain that he might inflict while repairing the damaged circuits. Wheeljack seemed accepting of it, and even threw in the option of amputating if it was absolutely needed. The CMO scoffed for a moment, then chuckled. "Puh-lease. If it needed amputating, it would have had to have been last night when I was repairing the line. Something like circuitry damage is easy enough. All I have to do is find the precise circuit that's causing the problem, then repair it.. if not replace it if it's beyond repair."
Now if anyone had told Ratchet that he'd just achieved the impossible, done what no medic had done before, he wouldn't have believed them for a second. Surely there had been some other medic out there that had managed to get this one to cooperate, even a little. Though to be honest, he said the same thing about many things during his entire career as a medic. Everyone hailed him as one of the best medics there was on Cybertron, but even Ratchet didn't think he was the best at all. He certainly didn't know everything, and even now he had so much to learn. At least.. that had been his option anyway.
Testing a few circuits, he eventually managed to find the one in question that had been causing trouble, but not without noticing the pain it had caused Wheeljack. "I'm sorry..! It will be alright. I'm going to make this as quick as possible so you can go back to relaxing. Just hang tight." He'd still be in pain as he continued his repairs, but he couldn't help but throw soothing phrases at him from time to time. Primus if the rest of the Autobots at the base were here to see this.. they'd think he'd gone incredibly soft around the Wrecker, and for once.. he'd think they were right. The scariest part was he wasn't even sure why. Just what in Primus' name changed between them during this time? Why was he so willing to make sure he was comfortable and calm while doing all of this, and not just because of who he himself was?
Thankfully, the damage was repairable, and he wouldn't have to replace the circuit itself. He need only repair the connection, as well as build a defense just to help protect it from further damage. It would take a bit of time, but he knew he could do it. As he worked, he stopped as Wheeljack spoke, looking up to him nearly in awe. Was he actually just admitting what he thought he'd admitted? The medic blinked a few times, dazed, but then chuckled softly to himself as the Wrecker attempted to dodge the compliment. "So basically, you're saying I'm taking good care of you and you're admitting it. I appreciate that." Ratchet then returned to his work, smiling as he made the final repairs to the circuit.
Once it had been repaired, and he'd placed a form of protection around the fixed circuit as well as placing the armor plates back on, he let out a sigh, placing his tools back in the kit. "All finished. You might still feel some discomfort, but I assure you that's completely normal. With all the work that I've done, that should pass within the next day or two, but you still want to allow time just to be sure everything is working appropriately, as well as letting your systems recover after the loss of all that energon." Ratchet stood back up, hopping back onto the berth to sit beside Wheeljack. Honestly, this time they've spent together, even if it had been stressful, had given Ratchet a better understanding of this mech, given them time to get a little closer. He pondered what the remaining days would bring, and then found himself questioning why he suddenly wanted to know just how close they could possibly get in this time.
But what could they do in the meantime? Ratchet didn't want Wheeljack attempting to walk for the remainder of the night, especially now that he'd messed with that leg of his some more. While the Wrecker could sleep some more, maybe he could find some way of keeping him entertained for awhile..? "So.. uh.. Do you.. have anything you like to do when you aren't doing Wrecker things..?"
“I absolutely get a kick out of this,” Wheeljack replied solemnly, though it was hard to miss the way the corner of his mouth curved up slightly in a barely-suppressed grin. “I mean, you make yourself such an easy target that it’s hard to resist. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toeplates.” And though Ratchet might have tried to duck his head to hide it, the Wrecker indeed spotted the small smile. The sight of it sent a thrill of delight through him, and a part of him internally celebrated at the perceived jackpot. So wrapped up in how nice it was to see the medic smile -- and to be the cause of it -- he entirely forgot he was even trying to pretend he wasn’t going to be affected.
It was funny, in a way. In the beginning, when he’d first met the medic, he’d thought him insufferable and stuck-up, with an air that was so incredibly condescending that Wheeljack had instantly disliked him just on the principle of it. He’d assumed Ratchet, like most other Autobot higher-ups, looked down their noseplates at bots like himself who weren’t afraid to rough-it and tough-it. When they had indeed been forced to spend time together and learn to work with each other, though… he’d come to realize maybe Ratchet hadn’t been the worst thing ever. They got on each others nerves and certainly had a talent for pressing each other’s buttons, but there was no denying that they had made an okay-ish team.
Ratchet was right, though. Things do indeed change. “I’m glad I gave you a chance, too. Yeah, sure, you drove me up the wall half the time with the endless badgering, but … You’re not so bad.” Wheeljack murmured back. That odd fluttery feeling in his chest was bad, but time was making him complacent, and it was getting harder and harder now to shove it away. Still, he gave it his best shot, and tacked on a snarky, “I’m also glad I got upgraded to ‘more than just an annoyance’, mostly ‘cause I got a reputation to uphold.”
(One thing momentarily stuck in his mind like a bur: Ratchet had made reference to a forest. Now that his memory wasn’t being addled by energon loss, he still found it difficult to recall just when said incident had even happened. Clearly it had, though, for the medic obviously remembered it, but Wheeljack still could not narrow down the exact details of what had gone down. They’d teamed up for a… mission? A mission in a forest. There had been a grenade involved too at some point, and they’d… chased something in the Jackhammer? The details remained fuzzy and indistinct, which was troubling in itself, for if he’d taken a blow to the head at some point he couldn’t remember, he’d need to get it checked out. Just as quickly as it had lodged itself in his mind, though, the thought then faded away, and he soon forgot to even be troubled by his apparent memory loss.)
The Wrecker was no stranger to pain, and liked to believe that he had a high tolerance for it. As Ratchet went on with fixing up his leg, Wheeljack tried to at least keep his wincing to a minimum, mostly because he didn’t want the other Autobot to worry too much about him. The pain from the soldering wasn’t like the pain from the fragged circuit itself, and couldn’t exactly be described as pleasant. It was a hot generalized heat compared to the pinpointed throbbing from before, but it was a necessary evil. “I ain’t made of glass, Sunshine, I can take it,” Wheeljack grit out, after a particularly intense bout. He then felt guilty for getting surly (he’d never felt guilty for getting surly before), and gently added, “It’s just a damaged circuit, and I’ve gotten stuck with a couple of those before. Don’t worry about me.”
Slowly, though, as the connections were repaired and the delicate parts were coaxed back into working properly, the pain faded away. In its place was what Wheeljack would describe as a sensitive numbness characteristic of a healing wound that left one with the urge not to move or aggravate it too much in memory of the agony suffered before, lest it return with a vengeance.
It near blindsided him just how surprised Ratchet looked at being given a compliment. Granted, Wheeljack’s methods were rather roundabout and indirect and required some knowledge of his special brand of sarcasm, but… still. He could not stop himself from feeling pleased at seeing the medic’s look of awe turn into another small smile. Every smile he managed to coax out of Ratchet felt like something rare and to be cherished, as if he already knew that true smiles had been few and far between for the older bot.
“Don’t get used to it, Doc. I’m only obligated to suck up to you ‘cause you saved my life and all.” There was no denying the sound of his own smile in the good-natured heckling.
By the time Ratchet had finished his delicate work, the sun had begun to dip down below the horizon. Dusky golden light filtered through the main viewscreen and cast long shadows across the energon-stained floor. Wheeljack could honestly say that he had not noticed the time passing at all, even with the intermittent jolts of pain caused by the treatment of his injury. Any other time and the Wrecker might have immediately jumped to his feet to test out the repairs, but apparently sitting on his aft all day while Ratchet fixed him up had sapped what energy reserves he’d managed to build up. Such exhaustion was to be expected: major injuries like the one he’d taken took time to recover from, and he’d be finding himself more than a little drowsy at times over the next few days as his systems slowly recovered.
“When I’m not doing ‘Wrecker Stuff’? You trying to imply something?” This time around, his teasing was surprisingly tinged with tiredness. “When I’m not blowin’ up 'Con mines or doing work on The Jackhammer, I usually I just-” Wheeljack started, before his words were unashamedly interrupted by a gargantuan yawn. He blinked blearily a few times once it was over, before finishing with, “-Just download and watch the local entertainment. The humans’ve got some decent stuff.” He’d actually been watching a rather engaging and witty show about human thieves lately, but it was becoming obvious that he wouldn’t be watching any episodes of it tonight.
In a move that was surprisingly uncharacteristic of him, Wheeljack conceded to the knowledge that he definitely needed to recharge again. “Hate to be a bad host, Sunshine, but would you mind if I rested my optics for a while?” Woah, just when had he become so tired? It was more than a little worrisome, but it was getting hard to fight it off.
Once more, the Wrecker settled down on the berth on his front. His head was pillowed in the crook of one arm, while the other carelessly dangled off the edge. Unlike the previous night, he didn’t conk out like a light right away, it wasn’t long before he’d drifted off again. The last thing on his mind before his processor powered down into standby was Ratchet, and thoughts of just how lucky he had been. His slumber was peaceful, punctuated by the same soft snoring sounds as before, and the occasional twitch of his slender doorwings.
When he next awoke, Rachet wasn’t anywhere in sight. The Wrecker figured that the medic had probably taken his break from his ‘staycation’, and maybe had popped back to the Autobot base for supplies. Wheeljack wasn’t too worried about it. A check at his internal chronometer revealed that it was mid-morning local time, which meant he’d gotten a respectable amount of recharge in once again. ‘Not too bad’, he thought to himself. Deciding it couldn’t hurt to go get himself a cube of energon to officially start Day 2 of his prescribed recovery time, Wheeljack made to get up. Everything seemed fine at first, though his hip did feel a bit weak, but he figured laying around for two whole cycles tended to do that to a bot.
“Fraggit!” He managed two steps before the leg suddenly flared in pain and buckled under his weight. The Wrecker promptly planted his faceplates to the flooring with a loud metal clang and a string of colorful swear words that would surely bring anyone in a five mile radius running to see what the racket was about. He laid there for a few moments in frustration before he tried to get up, and found that his leg had decided not to cooperate at all. The most he could manage was a useless little flop. “Pit-damned scraplet-sucking ‘Con fragger,” Wheeljack yowled for good measure, because swearing always helped pain (and humiliation) feel better.
Not that Ratchet would ever admit to it, but he was glad that he gave the crazy Wrecker a chance too. Not in a million vorns would he have even considered the idea without being pushed into it, but somehow.. that had been exactly what had happened. He'd been forced to work with a mech he called insubordinate and a ruffian, an absolute careless maniac, but now he didn't think about him that way anymore. Now he was just simply a maniac, but at least one he could tolerate to a degree. He wasn't sure how the heck he'd gotten him to cooperate as much as he had when it came to this whole recovery thing, but he wouldn't argue about it in the least. "So then we're in agreement that sometimes the things we're forced to do aren't the worst things ever." The medic had to try hard not to laugh at Wheeljack's idea of being promoted from 'annoyance' to 'more than just an annoyance'. "Maybe if you're lucky, you'll be 'tolerable' by the end of all this."
Even while repairing the circuits in his leg, Ratchet couldn't help but attempt to keep him calm and relaxed by uttering soothing phrases to him, but even with how surly he got, it managed to strike a bit of a chord with the medic. "Alright. It's a bad habit of mine, actually, but if you say you can take it then I trust you." The elder Autobot honestly didn't want to know what other injuries the Wrecker had suffered, especially if he claimed he'd been through these sorts of things before. Sometimes he wondered just what the other medics who'd had to deal with him had to say when it came to treating Wheeljack. "Either way, I'm almost done and then it will be all over."
Ratchet did, however, stop for a brief moment at the compliment, Wheeljack trying to duck around it. It'd made him smile truly for a change, grateful that he'd even gotten the praise at all.. even if the Wrecker wouldn't admit to it. "I won't in that case, but I'll take every little amount of praise I can get, even if it's just a little. Though coming from you, that means quite a bit." Scrap, did he just say that?! Ugh.. now Wheeljack was going to read too deeply into it, or at least that's what he had thought anyway.
Sure enough he'd finished the repairs, getting his tools back into his medkit before hopping back onto the berth with Wheeljack. It only half surprised him when he didn't give his repairs a test run, but it made the medic glad that he didn't all the same. He had just put all that effort into repairing that leg of his, and he didn't need it all messed up just yet. Of course, there was that teasing again. "What, I.. no! I just was wondering what sort of things you like to do. I thought that maybe we could do some of that together, or I could help you do some of those things on your own so that you aren't stuck in berth with nothing to do." Ratchet huffed a little, but paid close attention to when he finally got what he'd wanted out of the younger mech, plus a yawn. Looked like someone was beginning to get tired again.
"You watch human programs? I hear they have favorable medical shows. I've been wanting to learn human anatomy for awhile now, just.. you know.. in case one of the children get sick. I know that the older boy, Jack.. his mother is a nurse and is far superior to me when it comes to dealing with their problems, but I wanted to learn just for the sake of learning." The medic nodded as Wheeljack asked if he minded if he rested his optics for a bit. "Go ahead. I know you need the rest so go get some sleep."
Ratchet hopped off the berth, giving Wheeljack more room to get into a comfortable position as he watched the Wrecker fall into recharge. He was quite surprised, as well as proud, that he actually went to rest on his own accord and didn't even have to be talked into doing it. Maybe he really was turning into a miracle worker. "Rest well, Wheeljack." The medic glanced around, the energon stains catching his optic once more. "That does it.. I'm cleaning this up. I can't stand looking at it anymore." And so, he spent a fair amount of time scrubbing as much of the spilt energon up before returning to Wheeljack's side. Yes, he was doing much better, but for some reason he felt like he wanted to stay here instead of taking the more comfortable spot up in the cockpit. Once more he knelt down on the floor, pillowing his head with his arms against the berth, and fell into recharge.
Again he'd awoken before the Wrecker. He wasn't sure how long he'd be sleeping, so he decided that this was probably the best chance he had to get supplies back from the base without waking the injured mech up. "I'll be back soon. I promise. Please don't do anything stupid." Getting up, he went outside the Jackhammer and returned to base. Upon his arrival, he replenished his medkit, grabbed some more energon (he managed to feel guilty for taking the one single cube from Wheeljack), and subspaced his datapad. Certainly he'd expected everyone to jump him, asking about how the Wrecker was, and he would tell them all that everything was fine and that he needed to stay with Wheeljack for a few more days in order to make sure he healed up properly.
Once everything was gathered, he returned to the Jackhammer.. only to hear swear words up the wazoo. Curious, Ratchet went inside, only to find that Wheeljack had managed to fall onto the floor. Ratchet set down the energon cubes, kneeling down next to the younger mech. "Primus, Wheeljack..! Are you alright? You tried walking, didn't you?" It took every ounce of willpower to not yell at him, setting for a groan. He tried putting himself in Wheeljack's situation, thinking of what might've been going through that head of his when he attempted to do this. "Here, let me help you. Do you need me to look at your leg again?"
Well this had been a mighty fine start to the morning.
Indeed, a compliment from the Wrecker did mean quite a bit; Wheeljack tended not to give out compliments often, but when he did, it was usually well-earned. He usually felt awkward when he did, so his roundabout method of dodging any possible sparkfelt feelings by downplaying his appreciation was employed. Still, even with his attempted avoidance of all the complicated feelsy words, he still felt secretly pleased at how chuffed Ratchet seemed to be about it.
“So, movie night isn’t a thing on your end, then, Doc?” Wheeljack asked with a grin, “The more I hear, the more I’m glad I keep my distance from your base. Sounds downright barbaric at times.”
Wheeljack didn’t really know if the medical shows he spoke of were a reliable learning source (he’d given one or two a try, but had been a bit unnerved by all the organic injuries he ended up seeing) given their preference for dramatic relationships, but he couldn’t fault Ratchet for wanting to know something should any of the kids run into problems. It was even a bit endearing: even with Ratchet’s reputation of having rather totalitarian bedside manner and being ‘The Hatchet’, ultimately all he wanted was to help.
“There’s a human movie I downloaded the other day but haven’t gotten ‘round to watchin’ it just yet. ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ or something?” Handy of the humans to upload digital versions to their Internet, so that anyone could download them. Granted, none of those versions were legal and he hadn’t exactly downloaded any of his entertainment through legal means, but he certainly appreciated the existence of torrent sites. “We could watch that, if you really wanted.” Wheeljack would not admit so easily that the idea of watching something with Ratchet was a rather pleasing idea the more he thought about it.
The movie, however, would have to wait, for the need for rest proved to be too much of a thing to ignore for longer.
Poor Ratchet! Wheeljack’s specialty was disobeying direct orders, even those given when he was out cold. Given his propensity for getting into trouble, it was inevitable that that he’d attempt to do something the medic would classify as ‘stupid’, so it was less a matter of ‘if’ and more a matter of ‘when’.
And then he fell.
Wheeljack absolutely burned with the humiliation of finding out the hard way just how weak his body still was. The uncharacteristic docileness (or, whatever passed for docileness when it came to the stubborn Wrecker) of the past night had been replaced by the bullish determination to pick himself up again. He’d walked off hundreds of other injuries like this in the past, so what was stopping him this time around? All he had to do was pick himself up and try again.
Except his body simply wasn’t cooperating. His leg refused to bear his weight despite having been fixed properly, and his whole body now felt shaky and weak. This only made Wheeljack more vulnerable, more useless, which in turn made him angrier at the whole situation. It was in his nature to try and downplay the whole situation and hide just how incapable he felt at that moment, and he certainly had tried, with his casual drawling jokes and nonchalant brushing off of the severity of his injuries.
It was finally sinking in that this was probably the worst injury Wheeljack had ever gotten, and that he wouldn’t be bouncing back right away from it. He hated it.
“No, I didn’t try walking, I’m just inspecting the floor with my face,” He spat, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “I’m fine!” He glared at Ratchet, mostly because Ratchet happened to be the most convenient target for his ire, and didn’t feel particularly bad about it in that moment.
Before this, he’d been receptive to the idea of maybe being helped a little here and there, but Wheeljack had at least expected to be able to do something as simple as walk the short distance to the energon dispenser for a cube. To not be able to do that… well. He had always been fiercely independent, and to have such independence stripped from him left the Wrecker feeling trapped and helpless. It was never a good feeling, and he’d never taken it all that well in the past. His pride smarted the most at this new turn of events, and he was surly enough to take it out on anyone who happened to be around.
“I’m fine, I just- I’ve got this. I’m fine.” Wheeljack bared his dentae in a grimace as his leg began to throb, but he wasn’t about to give up so easily. Once again, he tried to rise. By sheer force of stubbornness (the Wrecker certainly wasn’t in short supply) he slowly, slowly, managed to rise from the floor to his knees, and then from his knees to his feet. The injured leg shook dangerously, and he had to put his weight on the other one to keep from going back down again, but it was a victory that he ferociously lauded. Hah! Even with a busted limb, he could flip the odds back into his favor and do things his way! “See? Fine.”
His triumph was short-lived, because it wasn’t long before the dizziness helpfully set in. He had, after all, almost bled out a day and a half ago, and even with all the recharge he’d been getting his systems still had not recovered from the shock. Wheeljack swayed. Unlike last time, however, he did not reach out to hold on to Ratchet for support, as his bruised pride forbid it.
He took a tentative step, and the leg buckled again. Luckily for him and his wounded pride, he only went down on one knee instead of full-out falling on his face. Unluckily for him, his injury, likely stressed by all the strenuous activity, began to throb again, and pain spiked from his hip down his leg and set his neural net alight with warning alarms. “Scrap,” Wheeljack snarled.
Well, at least someone had cleaned the floor when he’d been recharging this last round, otherwise he’d have a face full of old, stale energon.
Movie night? Ratchet could barely grasp the concept of such a notion. The Autobots at the Jasper base didn't do stuff like that together, though occasionally they'd be subjected to Miko and her music if that was good for anything. Ratchet himself couldn't stand the music himself, but he knew that some of the younger ones were into it. Just why did it have to be so loud and screechy? Why couldn't it be more like that 'classical' thing that he'd heard a little of while delving into Earth music to see if there were some alternative to the obnoxious 'music'. Oddly enough, classical music actually grew on him a bit, and he found it rather relaxing at times. "I can't say that we do, though I've never given it any thought at the same time. When have I ever had the time?"
If there were ever a time, now as it. Time away from the base, and time spent with a recovering Wheeljack might've been the best time to check out some of the Earth shows and movies. The medic raised an optic ridge at the mention of something called 'Guardians of the Galaxy'. Just who were these guardians? Why were they guarding an entire galaxy? Why just a galaxy? There were so many questions, and yet Ratchet didn't exactly feel like asking them. If they watched the movie together, he'd find out all those answers. Huh.. Together. Somehow, he liked the sound of that. "Only if you want to, Wheeljack. It makes no difference to me, but I wouldn't be opposed to the idea." Though it would seem that they would have to save the movie for another time, as Wheeljack was growing tired and needed the recharge. Allowing the Wrecker to get some much needed rest, Ratchet took it upon himself to clean up the dried energon all over the ship before calling it a night himself.
However, when he left to get some supplies and returned, he had only partially expected to see Wheeljack on the ground. Part of him had that false hope that he'd still be recharging, but then there was that part of him that just knew he was going to go against the doctor's orders and attempt to speed things up a bit. Just as Ratchet had asked him if he'd just tried to walk on his own, he hadn't expected the attitude. Normally Ratchet would be real quick to fire off an attitude of his own, but for whatever reason.. he only felt.. a pang of hurt mixed with anger? Why did that even hurt..? "All I did was ask you a question, Wheeljack. There's no need to get snippy with me." He sighed, kneeling down beside him.
And there it was again, the refusal of any offering of help while the Wrecker once more tried to do everything on his own. The medic found himself growing that much more frustrated, that much more tempted to drag his aft back to the berth and knock some sense into him in any way he could, but deep down he knew that wasn't the way to handle this situation. Maybe it would do the younger mech some good to learn the hard way from all of this. It'd been extremely difficult to not help him up as he found himself tumbling down, but he was forcing himself to not intervene as much as possible.
Except Wheeljack wasn't stopping, and each attempt only agitated the pain in his leg and his hip. Ratchet watched, staring him down before deciding enough was enough. He'd spent two days fixing that leg of his, and here he was undoing all of his hard work. While he wasn't going to just drag him back to the berth quite yet, he was prepared to say what he needed to say in hope of getting through his thick head.
"Wheeljack, that's enough. Stop. Can't you see you're only hurting yourself by keeping this up? Listen to me. I know that this isn't easy for you, and you want things back to the way they were, but don't you think I would have done that for you if I could have? These things take time to heal, and the longer you keep this up, the longer it's going to take to heal. That's not just me saying that because I'm a medic. That's me trying to be a friend." Ratchet frowned, reaching out to place his hand on the Wrecker's shoulder. "I don't like seeing you like this. I care about you, for Primus' sake! If you won't rest for me, just do it for you. Don't make my repairs for nothing. I'm not trying to threaten you or anything. I just want you to heal as soon as possible."
Ratchet closed his optics, sighing. "I could be a lot more forceful than this, you know. I could drag you back to your berth myself if I wanted, but I'm not going to. I'm not angry with you.. I'm trying to be understanding, and let me tell you.. that's not easy for me to do."
Wheeljack was not one to give up… well, ever. Stubbornness was practically in his coding, and when faced with a wall he preferred to plow right through it Wrecker style. Never had he been faced with an immovable object, however, and having spent so long being an immovable object himself, he found himself completely unable to process it.
Contrary to his actions now, Wheeljack did know the limits of his body... when it was in peak shape. He knew how far he could push himself until his endurance gave out, and he knew how far past that point he could go before he really was in trouble. To push himself now and come up against those boundaries so quickly was jarring and frustrating, and he did not like it one bit. Theoretically, he knew that he was not in peak shape -- that his leg was not yet fully healed, and that his systems wouldn’t recover from nearly dying for a good couple days at the very minimum -- but that did not quite mean he’d accepted it yet. He’d spent so long on his own that he did not know how to even accept help.
All he needed to do was get up. Getting up and standing on his own two pedes was supposed to be something simple, but his own body seemed unable to do that. Logically, he also knew that Ratchet was not judging him for his physical condition, but he still felt angry that the other was even seeing him like this, weak and incapable. Coupled with the humiliation of once again finding himself on the floor after having his leg give out again, Wheeljack felt like a cornered turbofox, wanting to bare his dentae and be left alone to lick his wounds and nurse his pride. His indignation festered.
“I can do this,” He growled out, refusing to back down. The Wrecker tried once more to rise. He didn’t even get all the way up before collapsing back down with a hiss, the agony in his leg too much to handle and the vertigo from energon loss making the whole world spin around him. “I can do this, stop tryin’ to say I can’t!”
But Wheeljack couldn’t.
The realization came tinged with bitterness, for deep down he’d known it all along, but had not been ready to accept. Ratchet was right in not interfering, for this was one lesson the Wrecker would only learn if he repeatedly threw himself at the problem until exhaustion won out. He averted his gaze then, blue optics bright with his frustration and his shame -- shame because he couldn’t even stand up and walk much less fight (And what kind of Wrecker did that make him?), and shame because there was pain in Ratchet’s voice, and he was responsible for it. For the first time in his life, all the bluster drained from him in a single instant, and all he was left with was misery in his chest. His blocky shoulders slumped, his EM field drew in close to his frame, and his doorwings drooped down in defeat.
Ratchet hadn’t deserved his snarling and snapping, and Wheeljack knew he hadn’t been fair in the slightest by taking out his frustrations on him, especially after the kindness he’d shown him. Yet, even when Wheeljack was biting his head off, Ratchet had still treated him with seemingly endless patience. He also knew that the medic was probably strong enough to haul him up and back into his berth by force, and could do so whether he was willing to go or not, but chose not to. He’d known all along that this was something that the Wrecker would have to figure out on his own, and he’d let him… while still not allowing him to hurt himself further. Ratchet was right, of course: the longer he kept this up, the worse it would be for him, and the greater the chances that he would end up undoing all of the medic’s hard work.
Wheeljack wished then that he knew the words with which to explain what he was feeling now, so that the other bot could understand, but no matter how hard he tried, he simply could not come up with any sort of adequate explanation. He stayed quiet for a good long while like that, hunched over on the floor with his leg throbbing, studiously avoiding Ratchet’s gaze.
It wasn’t like him to ever feel remorse for any of his behaviour, but just this once, he felt lower than the lowest.
“Ratchet?” He asked, finally. It was the first time that he hadn’t used a nickname or an epithet for the medic, a betrayal of just how out of his depth he was. Wheeljack went quiet again for a few moments, as if he were working up the nerve. Eventually, in an unusually quiet voice, he said, “Can you… help me?” It wasn’t often that he actually managed to swallow his pride and ask for help directly, but this now marked the second time he’d come to Ratchet when he needed it.
Wheeljack's stubbornness in this situation was just as hard for Ratchet to watch as it was to refrain from screaming at him for being so reckless. So stupid. If he'd just waited until he had gotten back from the Autobot base to do this, then this might not have turned into the ugly situation that it had, but of course he hadn't. Granted, the Wrecker didn't know that he'd gone off to the base for a little while, and he'd been told not to be stupid while recharging.. and Ratchet knew that. It was just the fact that he'd gone out of his way to not listen to him that was bothering him.
But above all else, it was the way Wheeljack was talking to him, or rather.. snarling, that hurt most.
When he was snapped at once more, he only felt that pained feeling growing that much more. The medic fought with himself, trying not to yell. It'd do no good, and he knew that by this point. Besides.. he knew he'd eventually wind up saying something he'd regret later. "I.." Ratchet glanced downwards, not wanting to look Wheeljack in the optics. "Fine.. I.. I can take a hint.." No matter what he said or did, he just couldn't get through to the Wrecker. This whole thing just made him feel like an idiot, frankly. He hadn't even done anything wrong, and here Wheeljack was taking it all out on him. While the medic understood where it was all coming from, it still didn't make it hurt any less. Just what in the world had made him think that he could get Wheeljack to cooperate with him in order to properly heal his wounds?
Ugh, why was he even so worried about all this?! Caught between hurt and frustration, he glanced aside, wanting this feeling to just go away. There was no reason for him to even be feeling this way in his mind. The younger mech was just an acquaintance. One he'd hoped could be a friend after this was all over.
Eventually he decided the best course of action to take would be to not take any action at all, not until he was absolutely forced to. As hard as it was, the Wrecker needed to learn this lesson on his own, but Ratchet also needed to learn that he couldn't be the one to teach said lesson to him. The silence between them only made it hurt that much more, and the CMO didn't want to keep their bickering going if he could help it. After awhile, he finally heard his name called. With pain not only in his voice, but now in his optics, Ratchet looked over to Wheeljack, waiting for him to continue.
The silence took hold once more, but finally the Wrecker spoke back up, finally asking for help. Ratchet stayed quiet a moment longer, looking to him before closing his optics. "Now you want my help..?" He let out a sigh, mixed with a soft chuckle, smiling sadly as he looked back to the injured mech. "What am I going to do with you..?" The medic moved closer, pulling one of Wheeljack's arms around his shoulder as he put his own arm around the younger mech's waist. He slowly began to stand up, making sure to be extra careful. "Put your whole weight into my side if you need to, but don't stand on your injured leg. Trying to walk with it is only going to make it hurt that much more. Now let's get you back to your berth.."
The elder mech was beginning to feel a little better, but it was nothing an apology wouldn't be able to fix. It took a lot of effort to push his own feelings back, just for the sake of getting Wheeljack back to a place where he could relax and let that leg of his rest in comfort. "I guess.. we both learned something today, didn't we..? You realizing how bad your leg really was as well learning when to call me for help, and I.. needed to learn that sometimes you need to let someone learn things for themselves instead of trying to hold their hand throughout the entire process. I'm sorry if.. I hurt you. If that's.. why you took it out on me."
What would Ratchet do with him? Any bot who’d been on the receiving end of his behaviour would have washed their hands of him and left him to his waspish demeanour. The Wrecker had honestly lost count of the times he’d driven off well-meaning friends and terrorized medics during the War the times he’d landed himself in whatever counted as a medical bay. Most if not all of them had been driven off by his prickly countenance, but not once had he ever felt so guilty about it.
Normally, Wheeljack’d just keep seething and bristling, completely unapologetic for his actions, but this time around… what was different this time? Ratchet, who’d helped him and had not once thought less of him even though he was all but useless in this state. The sight of him looking so hurt at his cruel and careless words acted like a cold shock to his system, shaking him right out of the cranky rut he’d worked himself into. Ratchet hadn’t deserved it. Ratchet hadn’t deserved any of it. Wheeljack came to the very stark realization that he hadn’t meant to be such a pit-damned slagger to him but in his anger he’d done it anyway, and by the looks of it, he’d caused a lot of harm.
The thought of hurting Ratchet with words made his spark ache. For once, Wheeljack didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t know exactly why his spark ached; by some strange turn of fate, the medic had grown on him, and in true anti-social fashion he’d just done his very best to drive him off. Silence stretched on. For a klik, Wheeljack thought that Ratchet would actually say no and leave him on the floor. Primus knew he’d probably deserve it after the snarling he’d unleashed on him, and so he kept his ashamed gaze averted, not wanting to look up and see the disappointment on the medic’s face. Few people had ever managed to cause such an uncharacteristic, humbled silence. Wheeljack didn’t know how Ratchet had become one of those people.
He’d always been a master at fragging up friendships even before they’d started. He supposed this was a very good reminder of why it was better for him to be alone -- things were less complicated.
It came as a surprise when his well-deserved shame was met by a quiet, sad chuckle and gentle hands. Stunned, Wheeljack did as he was told, holding tight to the other’s frame as Ratchet slowly lifted him up. The Wrecker did indeed end up needing to lean his full weight on the medic, for he’d agitated the wound so much during his stubborn shenanigans that his leg outright refused to hold up now. Slowly, with Ratchet’s help, he hop-shuffled back to the berth once more and sank down upon it with a low groan.
That Wheeljack had learned a lesson today was a gross understatement. He’d had to come terms with the fact that he just wasn’t going to be able to do things he’d done for so long on his own the hard way, likely re-injuring himself in the process. The fact that he’d come to such difficult conclusions in record time (for him, anyway, considering his obstinate nature) was nothing short of a miracle uncharacteristic of him, but seeing Ratchet’s sadness and frustration in watching him drive himself into the ground had managed to snap him out of whatever it had been that made him do it.
Ratchet’s next words, however, nearly stopped the Wrecker’s spark. “You didn’t-” he choked, looking up for the first time since he’d admitted defeat to himself, horrified at the very idea that the medic thought his poor behaviour might have been his fault. “You never hurt me, I was just- I was an utter slaghead to you, and you didn’t deserve it. You were right the entire time, Doc, and I-” Shame burned in him even brighter than before, and Wheeljack found himself once more staring in any other direction to avoid having to face the sadness in Ratchet’s gaze.
Usually, when he’d wronged someone (and was in a repentant mood), he studiously avoided actually using words to make amends as he never really knew what to say or do to make things right and preferred to just let things blow over. Not one to easily come up with anything resembling an apology, the fact that he had the sudden urge to try to fix the damage he’d done spoke volumes about just how important Ratchet had become to the Wrecker. His own strange behaviour when it came to the other Autobot surprised even himself.
“... M’ sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” It came out in a jolting, broken whisper. “I just- I hate feelin’ this way, like I have no control and I’m helpless, but that isn’t an excuse for what I did.” Wheeljack recalled trying to warn Ratchet that he wouldn’t be an easy patient to put up with, but, again, he knew that was not an excuse. Like a cornered animal, he’d been indiscriminate in who and what he’d taken his frustration at his situation out on, and now he had to face the consequences. The Wrecker’s slender doorwings drooped down to their lowest yet. “... I wouldn’t blame you if you just left me here, y’know. Others have in the past.”
The longer the silence between the two mechs kept up, the more time it allowed for Ratchet to think. While Wheeljack wasn't trying to get up anymore, that hadn't meant the damage hadn't already been done.. both to his leg and to the medic who'd repaired the thing in the first place. If it had been anyone else, he would've let them have it, perhaps chucked a wrench at them if not smacked them as hard as he could. But Wheeljack..? Something just felt so different about this situation. When he spoke the way he had, it hadn't just frustrated the CMO, but hurt him all at the same time. He wanted to say something, let Wheeljack know just how badly his words affected him, but would it have mattered in his current state of mind?
It hadn't stopped him from assisting the Wrecker when he finally did ask for help, however. Ratchet helped him up, keeping his grip on him firm, and slowly made his way to the berth. Once they'd made it, he even assisted in helping Wheeljack get onto it, letting him get comfortable however he chose. He didn't immediately sit with him like he'd done before, but merely stood by and occasionally glanced to him, a whirlwind of emotions flaring up in his spark. While he refused to let any of the weaker ones show, he couldn't help but display just how much emotional pain he'd been in from being snapped at the way he had.
Eventually, he found himself apologizing in fear that he'd been hovering too much without intending to. That he'd been bothering Wheeljack this whole time and that his offers of help had only hurt the Wrecker instead of help, but it had seemed that Wheeljack thought differently about the whole thing. Surprised, Ratchet looked to him, waiting for him to continue. What had caught him off guard even more was that Wheeljack had actually admitted that he'd been a complete and total aft towards him, that the medic hadn't deserved it. Of course he hadn't! He'd only been trying to do his job, both as a medic and as a potential friend, and look where that had gotten him.
He made to speak, opening his mouth, but quickly closed it after hearing a whisper of an apology. Ratchet's optics widened, unsure if he could believe what he'd just heard. The younger mech was actually apologizing, and even spoke of how his feelings hadn't been an excuse for his words nor his actions. "Wheeljack.. I.." He watched as those doorwings tilted down even further, nearly stunned to hear what he'd had to say next. It wasn't so much that Wheeljack had said that he could go if he wanted, or even that he seemed nervous that Ratchet was actually going to leave.
It was the fact that he stated this wasn't the first time someone had left him over something like this. Ratchet stood there for a moment, trying to think of what to do, let alone what to even say. "Wheeljack.." He'd settled for simply his name, then doing something quite rare for even the old grump himself. The medic carefully pulled the Wrecker into a comforting and friendly hug, letting it last as long as the other would allow before speaking up once more.
"I accept your apology.. As much as you say you didn't have a reason.. I think I understand now.. that this was all raw emotion coming from your frustrations. I'm not even sure why I let it get to me as much as I did, but.. I'm not angry.. and I certainly don't hate you for it." For all intensive purposes, he probably should have, but he just couldn't bring himself to be angry. Wheeljack had apologized, and truly looked the part of someone who was remorseful for what they had done. Maybe he could see why some would have walked away after an outburst like that, but Ratchet was determined to be different. "I'm not going to leave you, this much I can promise you. I'm not going to just abandon you, especially after you tried to make things right just now. That's all I needed. Everything's going to be alright."
He sat down on the berth next to Wheeljack, once again finding his hand on the Wrecker's good knee. "I know what it's like.. to have someone walk out of your life. Maybe not necessarily because of an argument, but.. It was my mentor.. back when I was still learning how to be a proper medic. We were extremely close, even after I graduated. Not.. in a romantic sense, but.. if I had to use an Earth term for it, he was like a father to me. I'm not even sure what happened. I'd told him I was going to Earth with Optimus, and then I never heard another word from him ever again. I tried so many times to contact him, afraid he'd been angry with me for the decision I made, but it was all for nothing.. I never found out, and while he might just be dead.. it's the thought of him being upset with me that hurt most." Ratchet sighed, glancing aside. Why was he even telling him all of this? What good was it going to do to tell Wheeljack about Pharma? "I.. know you probably don't care, but.. for some reason I felt like I wanted to tell you that. I don't want to leave you exactly the same way that Pharma left me.. intentionally or not. I can't begin to tell you how much it hurts thinking about it, and I refuse to do the same to you."
Ratchet looked to the younger mech, smiling a bit. "Besides.. you're still my patient, and I'm still your doctor. While I'm sworn to doctor/patient confidentiality, I promise as a friend I won't tell anyone about any of this. Now.. how about some energon to calm ourselves down a bit? And maybe.. after that.. we could watch those Guardians you were talking about before?"
He hadn’t been lying when he’d revealed to Ratchet that more than one bot had walked away when he’d gotten into such an extremely unpleasant mood. Wheeljack was likely the sole reason why the Wreckers had gone through so many medics during the war; they’d lost more to his poor temperament when injured than as actual casualties of battle. It hadn’t been like he’d landed himself in the medical bay often (or battlefield equivalent), but every time he took a wound, without fail, he’d drive friend and doctor alike up the wall with his own wall-clawing. He’d never been all that repentant about it, for his nature was to not think about the impact of his own actions upon others until well after the fact, but he’d always figured he’d deserved what he got in the end when well-meaning brothers in arms and physicians walked away entirely even after a ‘sorry’ was said.
Why should Ratchet be any different? Make no mistake, Wheeljack wasn’t under the illusion that he had some form of abandonment issues or anything like that, but he still expected the medic to wash his hands of him and be done with the matter. That he now felt extreme guilt over the matter made it even worse for the Wrecker, for he’d returned the medic’s kindness with conduct more fitting of a rabid, cornered mechanimal. Few bots had ever put up with his foul temper when he’d been stripped off his independence in the past, so why would Ratchet do so now? What reason would have, exactly? Wheeljack couldn’t think of any, and wouldn’t blame him if he told him to get scrapped even after his stilted apology.
Except-
Ratchet didn’t choose to wash his hands of him. What he did choose to do was the exact opposite.
Ratchet hugged him.
It wasn’t often that the actions of another bot could shock him into stunned silence, but given that this day had already been chock full of interesting surprises he probably shouldn’t have expected any different. Wheeljack was not one for physical affection, and had become doubly so during his time alone wandering the galaxy, but with Ratchet’s arms gently wrapped around him now in an embrace… he’d stiffened initially in confusion, but just as quickly his posture relaxed in the unexpected touch. He let the hug go on for perhaps longer than strictly necessary, but only because he’d been taken off guard.
“Doc, I-” He’d never had a way with words at the best of times, and now on the heels of an emotional burst he found himself fumbling awkwardly for the right words to use. He couldn’t find any. Tentatively, with his EM field, he reached out to brush at Ratchet’s. It’d been a long while since he’d used his electromagnetic field to communicate for it had always seemed incredibly familiar and intimate, but words were failing him. His field was awash with guilt, but also pure and utter relief that was echoed in his spark in a way he’d never experienced before. Ratchet was going to stay. Careful, cautious hope entered his EM field then. Maybe he hadn’t managed to frag up this friendship before it had even had a chance to grow after all. “I’m… glad. I’m really glad.”
There was something to be said for second chances. It appeared Ratchet was apparently willing to give him yet another, even when he probably didn’t even deserve it. Wheeljack decided that he’d try not to squander it; it wouldn’t be easy, because he knew he did and said things without thinking it through that usually ended with other bots angry with him, but he wanted to try. He never wanted to be the reason for the medic’s hurt expression ever again. It was still hard to keep up optic contact, but he forced himself to meet Ratchet’s gaze.
What prompted Ratchet to share such a personal story he did not quite know, but Wheeljack had the feeling that it had something to do with evening things out in terms of emotional vulnerability. In a way, also, it felt like a peace offering, a way to help bridge the raw chasm that had been ripped open between them. While not quite similar in the strictest sense, Wheeljack could still pick out parallels from their situation and what happened between Ratchet and Pharma, though his spark ached for the medic. Being a Wrecker, he was exceptionally cynical, and he had a feeling that Pharma hadn’t just chosen not to answer the comm link, but he was wise enough not to say it: there was new pain in Ratchet’s optics, and he didn’t want to add to it any more than he already had.
It was ridiculous how much he wanted to reach out and- do what, exactly? Offer comfort? Wheeljack had never been one to initiate such tactile interactions. Words had never been his strong point, but they’d have to do.“Anything could have happened,” He said gently (or however gently he was capable of talking). “Doc, he might not even be angry at you. Maybe long range communications just… stopped workin’ wherever he was at the time. The ‘Cons always try to take those out first-” And then he winced. Smooth, Jackie, real smooth. Wheeljack then carefully covered Ratchet’s hand on his knee with his own, his touch light, as if he was unsure if it would be welcomed. “... If he’s anything like you, he’ll be out there somewhere. Most bots just scattered after Cybertron went dark, and I’ve tripped over more than a few old buddies of mine in my wanderin’. And even if he is angry at you, he ain’t got much of a right to be, because you’re your own bot an’ made your choice.”
It felt good to see Ratchet smile after all of that. A happy little thrill went through him at the sight of it, however tiny and rueful it was. “Energon sounds good right now,” The Wrecker agreed. Then, tentative, cautious, as if testing of the waters to work out where the boundaries were of whatever they were (friends? Allies? Or just a patient and his physician?) were after their conflict had been resolved, he offering up in a joking manner, “Didn’t know you were so eager to watch a show with me. If I’d’ve known, I’d’ve gotten stabbed earlier to give you the chance.”
Energon and a movie did sound good. While Ratchet went off to fetch the cubes, Wheeljack carefully shuffled himself (wincing all the while - his leg was not as forgiving as the medic, it seemed, and was eager to remind him of it) around so that there would be more than enough room for Ratchet to join him in sitting on the berth. “... Thanks,” Wheeljack said when Ratchet returned, and it was obvious that he didn’t just mean for the energon. He rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck, knowing he owed it to the other mech to at least come up with something to say. Why did this have to be so difficult? “I know I’m… hard to be around. Just- thanks.” Eloquent, as always. He winced.
Just as Wheeljack had been surprised by the hug, Ratchet was just as equally surprised that the hug itself had been allowed to go on for as long as it had. He held him close, making sure to keep it comforting and not allowing it to slip into the sort of hug that meant that much more. Neither one of them saw each other that way, at least.. in Ratchet's mind anyway. The more he thought that way, however, he began to question if maybe he didn't have some sort of feelings towards Wheeljack, but how was he even supposed to know that? It wasn't like he'd done this whole relationship thing before in many, many vorns. He'd long since forgotten what that felt like.
The medic let go as Wheeljack began to speak, words failing as he allowed his EM field to do talking for him.. in a manner of speaking. It'd been awhile since he'd communicated with anyone this way as well, but pushed his EM field out to brush against the Wrecker's. He felt his massive amount of guilt, his happiness that he could only assume had been from Ratchet wanting to stay, as well as a bit of hope. His own field brushing against Wheeljack's, he sent him comfort.. that he hadn't been angry with him for what had happened, and that he was here to help him through this. He also sent a wave calmness and reassurance with his EM field, anything that he thought might be helpful in allowing the Wrecker to relax after this whole ordeal. "I won't leave you.. That's a promise."
He sat down beside Wheeljack on the berth, compelled to tell him the story of what had happened when he lost contact with Pharma before leaving to go to Earth with Optimus. No matter how many times he tried to comm him, no matter how desperate he sounded with each attempt, he could never get through. He tried hard to rationalize with himself that Decepticons were in the area and he couldn't safely talk, or perhaps.. he had perished, but then there was the thought that maybe.. just maybe Pharma had been upset with him and his decision to leave. He was brought out of these thoughts as Wheeljack spoke up, stunned to hear what he had to say on the matter. "You think.. it was the Decepticons? But he was at the medical facility in Delphi.. What reason would they have had to go there of all places..?" It was the Wrecker's next action he never saw coming.
He actually placed his hand atop of Ratchet's. He flushed, optics wide, but never once did he fight him off. He instead stared at Wheeljack's hand, noting how relaxing it felt to be comforted in this way. It'd been a very long time since anyone had touched his hand like this, but he never realized how much he had missed the sensation. "I.. Thank you. I appreciate that a lot. Maybe he is out there somewhere.. and if he is I plan on finding him one day.. Finding out what happened. If you could find your old friends, then maybe.. I do have a chance."
While he didn't know that it had made Wheeljack feel better, Ratchet knew that smiling had helped relax him quite a fair amount after everything that had happened. He got off the berth when Wheeljack had agreed to the energon, reaching for the cubes that he had brought in with him. While they had been meant for him, he didn't mind sharing the other cube. However, he nearly dropped them both at Wheeljack's attempt at a joke. "Wheeljack.. no. You being injured is not why I'm wanting to watch it with you. I mean.. it is, but.. Augh.. You know how to really get me." Ratchet sighed, passing one of the cubes over to Wheeljack before sitting back down on the berth.
Here they were together.. alone, about to watch a movie, and they both had energon. Some might think more of this than they should've, but not Ratchet. This was just a friend trying to comfort an injured friend by any means necessary, even if it meant suffering the duration of the stay with him and watching movies and shows he wouldn't normally touch, let alone think of looking at. Taking a sip of his energon, he glanced over to Wheeljack with his optics. Primus he looked so much better than he had when he'd found him bleeding to death. He was so full of life now and not just slouched in a chair with barely any strength. "You're welcome, Wheeljack." At first, he'd thought the Wrecker had merely thanked him for the energon, but then he realized that he was thanking him for so much more than that. "I'm not exactly that easy myself. I know I haven't been, but.. I know we can get through this. It has been a couple of days, and we haven't tried to kill each other yet."
A couple of days.. That's right. He remembered Wheeljack had said he'd only wanted him here for three, and that would be tomorrow. The time had just gone so fast, and yet the Wrecker clearly wasn't ready to be left to his own devices yet, especially after his little stunt this morning. "Listen, Wheeljack.. I know you said three days only, but.. if you absolutely want or need me to stay longer, I'm not against the idea. It's your decision, however, though my medical advice would be to stay off your feet for a little while longer, especially after this morning. I'm not telling you what to do, but.. I wanted to at least give you the option."
Was that a… blush on Ratchet’s face? Wheeljack was momentarily bewildered, for all he’d done was just return the gesture. There wasn’t any more to it, nor was there any underlying motivations to read into… right? Every instinct screamed at him then to yank his hand away, for he’d walked straight into dangerous territory of the complicated variety, but the Wrecker found that he was reluctant to do so, for Ratchet seemed just as shocked about it as he was. It was almost endearing in a way, for the medic seemed stunned at the very idea of being touched, but he hadn’t pulled away yet so Wheeljack figured he was doing at least something right. He resolved then to forge on, and pretend that nothing had really happened at all.
(He ignored the tell-tale feeling in his chest. He knew damn well what that feeling was, but figured if he ignored it long enough it would go away.)
“Delphi? That’s Messatine,” Which was way, way out there on the fringes of known Cybertronian space, practically in the middle of nowhere… but also dangerously close to the territory of the Decepticon Justice Division. The Wreckers took missions whose odds were beyond scary and got things done, but even they knew better than to mess with the DJD. Very few of Wheeljack’s missions had ever involved anything to do with that merry band of masochists, but their reputation was known to ‘Bots and ‘Cons alike. If the DJD had decided to lay claim to Messatine, it didn’t look good for Ratchet’s friend at all, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud. “He could still be out there, y’never know,” He said, but then hesitantly added,“Don’t let wondering about it consume you, though. He might be out there… but he might not be. Wondering and worrying about it won’t help you or him, in the end, and sometimes it’s best to just… hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.”
Regardless of the odds, he hoped for Ratchet’s sake that this Pharma, whoever he was, was out there somewhere. He gave the hand under his own a comforting squeeze.
He got a delightful little kick at seeing Ratchet falling for his not-so-cunning trap and getting worked up over something so little as a joke. He felt relief in knowing that whatever their relationship was had survived the conflict enough for him to be able to tease. “You make it so easy for me, Sunshine,” Wheeljack bantered back, a gentle smile on his face. “How can I resist when you make yourself such a good target?”
As Ratchet fetched the energon, it didn’t even occur to Wheeljack that, under other circumstances, this entire situation might have meant something else. There were always weird implications surrounding these sorts of things.They were two friends (at least, it looked like that was what they were now, even despite the spat) sitting down to watch a movie on his berth while he was horribly maimed and unable to do pretty much anything for himself. Still, Wheeljack wondered what Ratchet thought about this. Would he mistake this as some sort of overture towards something else? (‘Would that even be so bad?’ A part of him asked. The Wrecker wanted to bash his head against the wall but refrained, purely because that would likely make Ratchet sad again.)
Wheeljack reached (carefully) to one of the storage cubbies built into the wall of the berth and pulled out a datapad. It had clearly seen better days, and was scuffed and worn, but it still worked so the Wrecker had seen no need to replace it just yet. It took a moment to boot up, and he loaded up the movie: Guardians of the Galaxy in high definition quality, obviously acquired through less than legal means, but Wheeljack had never been one to care about ‘copyright infringement’ no matter what planet he was on. He shuffled slightly to make room for Ratchet so that they’d both be able to see the screen clearly.
“We haven’t tried to kill each other yet,” The Wrecker corrected, the datapad half-forgotten in his lap. He was only half-joking. “Don’t jinx it. And… well, you put up with my slag.” Few bots had ever put up with his slag, and for the most part Wheeljack didn’t actually care if they walked out, but this time it was different.Ratchet’s faith that they could get through this together was comforting, more comforting than he would have thought.
The fact that Ratchet even gave him options surprised Wheeljack. He appreciated it; it was clear the medic wanted to give him an out, and just by providing him with it helped soften the blow a bit and prevent him from feeling too cornered or caged in. “I probably also fragged up my leg even more,” He acknowledged, looking away momentarily in guilt. He had been firm on three days being the maximum, but two days had already passed, and it didn’t look like he’d be anywhere close to mobile by tomorrow. It rankled him knowing he’d have to spend more time cooped up and confined to berth when he could have been out there now helping out, and it rankled him even more knowing that the extension of his bed rest was purely of his own doing. Having Ratchet around would probably be a good idea.
“I’m not against the idea, either,” Wheeljack admitted, and was that a shy lilt in his voice? A blush of his own crossed his cheeks, and he quickly looked away. He fidgeted, and then cleared his throat. “-I mean, one more day probably won’t cut it, so I guess I gotta trust your medical advice on this, Doc. You up for extendin’ your vacation time a bit?” The Wrecker then hurriedly added, “-Only if you want to. You’re givin’ me a choice, so it’s only fair you get one, too.”
And because it wouldn’t be a near-miss on the emotional front without some sort of witty one-liner, he tacked on, “You can always tell everyone back at base that you’re stayin’ longer for my movie collection. Make 'em jealous.”
"That would be the one. I.. studied there just before the war, finishing my studies just as the war had begun. After that I returned to Cybertron, and.. well.. you know how the rest goes more or less." It had been an odd place to study medicine, especially when it had been so very far away, but who wouldn't have jumped at a chance as rare as that? It hadn't been other side of the universe far, but he'd had to pass several planets to get there, including Velocitron. He'd returned to Cybertron briefly during his studies, and that's when he'd taken in a small femme for himself.. but for the life of him, he couldn't remember the details of how it had all happened. Ratchet could have sworn a battle had taken place there, Praxus if he recalled correctly, but he remembered nothing of an actual battle happening. Maybe it was just his age catching up with him..
Ratchet looked to Wheeljack in surprise, taking his words in. He was right.. He really shouldn't let this whole thing with Pharma get him down, but he had such a hard time of letting go of things that it wasn't as easy as it sounded. Primus, he still couldn't get over losing Cybertron! "Thank you. It won't be easy for me, but I'll give it a shot. If you really think I can do it, then.. I guess I'll try even harder. Letting go just isn't easy for me." Ratchet nearly felt his spark stop for a brief moment as the Wrecker squeezed his hand. He blinked a few times, confused by the sudden burst of emotion welling up within him, but relaxed once he'd pushed the sudden emotion aside and let out a soft smile. If only his hand had been positioned differently.. He actually would have squeezed Wheeljack's hand back.
The CMO wasn't sure how the heck Wheeljack was able to get under his armor plating so easily, but somehow the mech knew exactly how to do it, each and every time. Maybe he was right and he really was making it that easy for him, but who really knew? Ratchet sure didn't. Then again.. maybe it was all in the reactions. "Honestly, I wouldn't know what to do if you didn't do that. I'd be terribly confused and wondered if you had contracted something." If nothing else, he was just glad to see a smile on Wheeljack's face again.
He'd gotten up to grab the energon cubes, bringing them back to the berth so that he could sit with him to enjoy these guardians of a single galaxy. Maybe there was more to this than met the optic, or perhaps it was all in his head and he was just denying it. They were just friends! Wheeljack was hurt and he was going to take care of him as best he could, both as a doctor and as a friend. But there was one fact that he couldn't deny, and that he was going to be watching this movie with Wheeljack.. on his berth. It wasn't like they'd be there for just a few minutes or something. Oh no. Earth movies lasted hours, and that was just for one single movie. He flushed a little at the thought, hiding his face with his energon cube as he took another sip, his optics glancing over to the younger mech. Just what was he making of this situation? Surely he'd thought the same right? That they were just friends watching a movie together?
"Pff... You're just lucky that I'm not allowed to actually harm you. It's one of the very first medic rules." It wasn't like Ratchet would actually attempt to kill him if given the chance. Even if he wanted to, he'd just have to deal with Bulkhead and Miko afterwards, and that wasn't even including Optimus and the others. Those two would have it out for him all on their own! "I'll try not to jinx it in that case."
There wasn't a doubt in his processor that the Wrecker had messed his leg up even more than it had been. Plenty of rest would help, but if there was more damage done than the medic had known, he was going to need to take a look at it. All he knew was that the damage done hadn't been life threatening, and rest would help repair most of it for him. "You likely did.. and I can take a look at it later if you feel you need me to. Right now I would just recommend resting so that it has time to recover from trying to use it." What he hadn't expected was Wheeljack's own offer of letting him stay even longer than the three days he'd specifically set when this whole thing had started. Ratchet looked to him in surprise, then nodded. "Very well. I'll stay awhile longer. I may need to return to base for a short time in the event of an emergency, or to get some more supplies, but just now that I will return any time I do have to leave. I'll still give you time alone if and when you need it, so you have nothing to worry about. Just be sure to get plenty of rest and to try and not over-do things. I'm here to help you, and I'll help you every step of the way that you'll allow me to."
The elder Autobot couldn't resist laughing. Tell the others he was staying for movies? They'd never believe it in a million stellar cycles. He knew that Wheeljack had been joking, but it had been a much needed laugh. "Oh, alright. I'll be sure to tell them. Want me to tell them that you said hello as well?"
Before too long, the movie started, Ratchet watching Wheeljack's datapad carefully as the text 'Earth, 1988' popped up on the screen. He could only assume that that had been the year that this particular scene had been meant to take place during. The subtitles soon faded to black, the scene changing to that of a hospital as a song began to play.
I'm not in love So don't forget it It's just a silly phase I'm going through And just because I call you up Don't get me wrong, don't think you've got it made
The medic prepared to glance over to Wheeljack for a brief moment, the lyrics caught in his head, but was pulled directly back into the scene as a man approached a young human boy sitting in a chair. Apparently the boy was the one listening to the music on something that was called.. a 'Walkman'? Or was it called a 'Sony'? That's what it had said on the device, anyway. Either way, the boy had followed the man into a hospital room, a woman lying on the bed with many surrounding her. It didn't take an astrosecond for the medic to figure out what was going on. One look at the woman, as well as the monitors, and he knew she was dying. He kept watching solemnly, having seen this sort of scenario play out far too many times than he'd like to count. Primus did he feel for the child..
And then of course, as he ran out of the hospital, he was brought aboard a spaceship, seemingly against his will. What..?
Ratchet laughed, and it was one of the most amazing sounds Wheeljack had ever heard. Hadn’t the medic laughed before in front of him? Surely he had, but he didn’t remember it sounding so genuine and real. It hadn’t been just the laugh itself that caused him to perk up, of course, but the way the older bot’s optics softened and his posture slackened. Considering they had gone from snarling at each other (well, Wheeljack had been doing the snarling) to laughing was such a curious segway that the Wrecker had to marvel at it. He wondered if he could get Ratchet to laugh again.
“Tell ‘em I wrote ‘em both out of my will for not visiting me on my death bed,” He grinned back. It felt good to know that banter was still fair game, for Wheeljack wasn’t quite sure what he would done otherwise if Ratchet had not been receptive to the idea. Teasing whether it be friendly or mean-spirited, was his preferred means of communication, and it was even more enjoyable when the medic tossed a few jabs his way. “No inheritance for them! My grenades are bequeathed to the ‘Cons, but only if the safety pins are pulled out.”
He could honestly say he had no idea what to expect from this movie. He’d been drawn to it by the title (Who was arrogant enough to name themselves guardians of the entire galaxy? Who would ever want that pit-forsaken job, considering just how big it was?) and by the entertainment review and approval system the humans used to rank their movies, having decided that whatever media got a high ranking had to have been worthwhile. He had not expected a spark-wrenching introduction of a human youngling losing his creator, only to then be kidnapped by some unknown craft. It was jarring, to say the least, but in a way that left the Wrecker thoroughly wanting to know what happened next.
What a story it was! A band of misfits and ruffians (exactly his sort of crowd) who had to come together to prevent the domination of the galaxy. Wheeljack was certain that most of the references this movie made likely went over both of their heads, but that was part of the beauty of it: every person around Peter Quill seemed to feel the same way, so the Wrecker certainly empathized. “‘My reflexes are too fast,’” he even quoted back in careless abandon, “Reminds me of Magnus!” Ultra Magnus had never been of the ‘drunk-dial-your-arch-enemies’ variety, though, luckily enough.
So wrapped up in the story -- Wheeljack was grudgingly impressed by this one, he would admit, as he’d slugged through his fair share of mediocre human movies during his time on Earth -- that he didn’t even notice that by the middle of the movie, he’d unconsciously started leaning against Ratchet’s shoulder. The datapad had migrated sideways even more, so that it was more evenly shared between the two of them.
It wasn’t until near the end of the movie, just during the climactic final aerial battle that Wheeljack leaned a little too far, and the side of his head clunked gently against the medic’s. It was that moment that his processor decided to take a vacation of its own, leaving him to stumble his way through it without the use of words. “Uh,” he said rather eloquently, startled to find himself in such close proximity with the older mech. Not one for much touchy-feely space-sharing, he tended to shun such situations, but nevertheless he found himself more confused about the situation than anything else. “Uh,” Wheeljack uttered again, noticing then just how comfortable they’d both become in the berth alcove… and how he wasn’t that bothered after all about it. When had that happened?
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altria : please dont be dead?
Jun 14, 2023 22:40:34 GMT
Partia: Is this still alive?
Dec 17, 2022 6:02:02 GMT
Partia: Is this still alive?
Dec 17, 2022 6:01:34 GMT
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