First Aid is going to doctor ALL the medics

[Deleted]

Characters: First Aid, @pharma
Location: Medbay
Content Warnings: Maybe angst??
Plot Summary: First Aid notices Pharma needs a break

[Deleted]

@pharma

It had been a rough few months. But with Ratchet back and the stress even just slightly relieved, First Aid noticed that Pharma had not stopped to take a break at all. Or gave himself enough time to just... relax.

He didn't know Pharma as well as he did some of the others, but he respected him and thought him to be an excellent medic.

Which is why First Aid was a bit... nervous.

He brought over an energon cube, nudging it towards Pharma's direction.

"Hey, I noticed you hadn't fueled in awhile, so..."

[Deleted]

"...can't stop...can't stop..." Dimmed blue optics seemed to be focused on a transformation cog that was in bad shape but still salvageable enough to be mended and installed in a patient. No, not a patient. In himself if ever his own should be ripped out.

At least, that was what he told himself. And since Tarn and his ilk were around, he had to be sure

His frame started sagging slightly and his optics fixed on the cube. For a moment, he thought himself delirious. Energon cubes didn't appear out of thin air. However, he heard a voice and his optics widened. His wings seemed to stiffen for a moment and his vocals hitched.

"Been so...so focused on the task at hand. I..."

He shook his helm, then looked up, First Aid's features in his unsteady gaze. Damn, he really was worse off than he seemed.

"I...really probably got used to the lack of fuel...that's all. R-really."

[Deleted]

First Aid frowned, watching Pharma mutter to himself. This was worse than he thought… how their efforts had been stretched so thin. How much stress had been increased in the past few months.

"Maybe," First Aid said, tilting his head a little. "It's easy to lose sight of what is really important in times of stress… But you should take a break, get some rest. Drink some fuel. Sleep. You're running on empty, Pharma…"

First Aid knows he's not at the same caliber of a medic as Pharma, or as Ratchet. But he's enough of one to know the signs of fatigue when he sees it.

[Deleted]

The muttering was more than his mantra of running on fumes at this point. It was his way of keeping himself from giving up in the face of the Decepticon Justice Division. He was afraid if he stopped for even a moment, he'd give up. His optics flooded with tears, flickering dark blue every so often.

"Refuel...I can refuel. But I can't sleep. I just can't. I really and truly just can't." He fought the urge of the instinctive full-frame flinch, instead clenching his optics tight shut. "I've run on less. Here's a secret--you get used to running on the fumes of nothing in certain places. Here isn't one of them but...no. I can't talk about this. Not right now."

He clutched his helm, before trying to let dizziness from his exhaustion pass. No. For a moment, he seemed to hear something in his mind. While he was in this position, hunched over a lab bench, knees dragging the ground, it almost felt familiar.

He was hunched over a recharge slab, someone looming behind him. He could hear that tone of care but he couldn't stand the thought of someone else caring for him. He was fine, really!

"DON'T! I'm fine." He screamed.

But he didn't feel fine. He didn't feel fine but he didn't want to feel like he was so weak and pathetic at the moment. Even if he wasn't all that pathetic at the moment, he was used to being considered pathetic. Old voices died hard.

"It is truly a pathetic bot who does not know that hope is futile and that your actions are all that matter."

Every time he dared to think that hope was a thing, he could hear Tarn's voice taunting him. When he thought he could relax, he still felt the heat of the dual fusion cannon in his face. That was why he couldn't sleep. That was why he was never able to relax.

[Deleted]

First Aid was becoming more concerned. This was getting worse and it looked like he needed to be the one to take charge of the situation. Both Ratchet and Pharma needed care, but Pharma was being too stubborn to actually accept it. What to do… First Aid usually was in scenarios in battlefields where he could order mechs to go off the field and they'd listen.

Ordering medics around was a different story.

Primus, they needed a psych medic here. And First Aid wasn't qualified for that.

"Pharma, I can take over from here. You don't have to rest or recharge if you don't want to, but just get out of the medbay for a bit. I'll be fine. I was fine by myself before, right? Take a break."

[Deleted]

Being too stubborn? No, stubborn was his natural state. Stubborn was how he survived. How he kept others alive. But it hadn't kept others alive in the end. He then slumped over the table.

"Just don't let anything happen to that T-Cog. I..." His vocals hitched. He took another sip, slowly. "I...can't leave, okay? I know it's going to sound stupid but I...I don't do well outside the med-bay lately. Too quiet."

And Primus, the silence just killed him.

"Perhaps if...I lay down? On one of the recharge slabs?" He didn't have to rest even if he laid down, he surmised. Mind you, he never laid on his back. He gingerly lay on his front, avoiding letting his chest be shown. No one could easily rip parts out through the back.

[Deleted]

Well, at least Pharma was going to lay down and listen to First Aid. He hadn't expected him to agree so soon. And even though Pharma wasn't leaving the medbay, he wasn't going to be working. And that's something.

"That's fine," First Aid said calmly. "Nothing will happen to the T-Cog. Do you have a safe box to place it while you rest?" Best to put the T-Cog in a place that Pharma knows it's safe so he will actually rest.

So help him Primus, First Aid WILL make sure these overworked medics get their rest.

[Deleted]

"I...don't have any boxes to put it in, no." He pressed his face firmly into the recharge slab. He hadn't had any boxes for things other than tools. It had never been much. He had told himself he didn't deserve much more than a box to put tools in after the Red Rust.

"Maybe a drawer at that med bench. Second down should be sterile compared to the other two." He murmured, trying to keep his optics closed.

He was just so out of energy right now! And yet he emotionally couldn't handle anything right now. That constant, ever-present fear was there. It was there with prickles of electricity and pricking sensations in the spark. It was there with searing heat and the sound of grinding blades gnashing.

No. He shouldn't think about them.

He settled in, trying to clear his thoughts. He had to clear his thoughts. He had to...

He had...

Rest.

[Deleted]

First Aid shrugged and placed it in the drawer. If that's where he wanted it to be, then that's where it would go. First Aid didn't know entirely why Pharma was keeping a T-Cog around and was so protective of it, but… Pharma was a good doctor. He knew what he was doing.

First Aid would keep watch of Pharma, make sure he slept and others don't disturb him.

So he would stay there until Pharma woke,

[Deleted]

He of course wouldn't say way. That was to be his. If the Decepticon Justice Division robbed him of his own transformation cog, he would need it. Or, of course, if his own gave out. Both were likely to happen.

And he wasn't going to let himself be stuck without it. He would need it to fly, to escape if something went wrong. He didn't realize he was twitching and jerking in recharge.

He didn't realize he clawed at the recharge slab. One leg hung off, the pede thumping the floor slightly.