re_alignment_logs | The Pills Won't Help You Now [OPEN]

WHO: Vandal + OPEN to visitors.
WHERE: Medbay | Solus Temple
WHEN: A day after her Big Freakout.
WHAT: Visits and explanations.
WARNINGS: Vandal...

Have some mood music.

Whatever Soundwave had done to her, it had landed just about passed her into another plain of existence for a while.

A dreamless sleep, something she hadn't felt in a while. No screeching static, nothing running at her, needles for arms, drooling puss and stale blood with nothing more than the desire to rip her open.

Just darkness.

And when she wakes, she's alone.

Someone has her stereo system turned on, and soft, crackly music is playing.

Her RIG, bundled in a corner.

When she moves, she finds her arm stinging. Bandaged. She doesn't remember getting hurt, but she remembers being there again. Back on the station. Everything turning to shit. It's been getting worse. Something she was previously able to stave off with a precarious mixture of pills and alcohol, but eventually those weren't even able to dull that whispering. The words that were always just too quiet to make out. Or overlaid with so much static that even when they were screaming she couldn't understand.

She sighs.

She lays back, staring at the ceiling.

Her head is suspiciously quiet.

Karrie could just get up, gather her things and leave, but where would she go? "Home"? She has no real home. She was just fooling herself.

So instead, she stares up and the ceiling and waits, listening to the distant music and the passive sounds of the monitors.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He'd never hated his alt mode before, but he had every slow klik he'd had to ride over the uneven terrain of the Junk Pile on his way to her. "I wanted to come. And," he's not going to lie and say he wasn't scared. He had been.

He still was, a tense roiling in his belly, that it could happen again, that he still wasn't sure what happened.

"I care about you, Vandal. It's part of the deal." He forces a smile, risking a step into the room. "That's kind of what you told me, right?"

"Yeah. It is. And I know you did. It's not like I can fault you for not having magical teleportation abilities." She can't really deny her own words, can she? It just feels different now.

"I'd understand if you didn't- I mean if you wanted to get away from me, though. There's... something wrong with me, Drift. I ignored it kind of at first."

A swallow, this is being honest, right?

"But I don't know what it is and I'm. Really scared. I can't tell what's real and what's not sometimes. And I was just... medicating myself hoping that the more I drank the less I would have to deal with it."

There's a soft shrug, and she stares down into her sheets with intense interest.

"I'm sorry I never told you. I know we agreed on this whole 'trusting each other' thing, but I just didn't want to burden you with it. You've got other things. Yourself- and Wing. I thought it might be selfish of me to saddle you with all of my crazy bullshit that I don't know how to fix. To anyone really."

But she'd let him in more than anyone else.

He looks worried, and then a little hurt. And maybe, just a tiny bit, angry.

"Karrie. I don't want to 'get away from you'. I don't know what I can do to help you, but I'm not leaving." So there.

Unless she wants him to leave. And then he's only leaving out of her throwing range.

"We'll find an answer. Somehow." 'We'. You heard that, right?
"Karrie. You're my friend. That doesn't just mean the good things. If I can't fix it, let me at least....help. Somehow." There's a plea in his optics--what do you want him to do?

Well okay. There's a big part of her that's incredibly relieved he doesn't want to run in the other direction. She wouldn't blame him if this was grounds for getting the fuck out of dodge.

Deep breaths.

"You help just by being here. You're still my best friend, Drift. Nobody really knows how to 'fix' this. It's... I don't know. I guess I just need someone around when it gets bad. I'd like if that was you."

Someone to lie and tell her everything will be okay, even if it probably won't. It's silly, but she never thought she would place such high value on a touch and a kind word.

The sheets are pulled up and around like a cloak to help hide her face, her fear and uncertainty and the unusual feeling of asking for things.

"I'll be there." It's a vow at least in his mind. "For whatever you need me for."

It still doesn't seem like enough. He steps closer, resting a hand on the berth beside her. "Vandal. We'll get through this. You have me. And Wing. And a bunch of other people who are on your side."

She knew, in the back of her mind. But it's still nice to hear it out loud from someone else. From him. Big fucking goofy samurai robot and his knightly boyfriend have her back. It's actually way more comforting than she would have ever thought, when it's put that way.

She reaches hand resting over his fingers.

"Thank you, Drift." She breathes, voice trembling.

"I could also go for a hug and a stiff drink." A barked laugh follows, "But couldn't we all."

He smiles. It's a little tentative, not sure if 'happy' is really polite. But he wants her to be at ease with him, he needs her to.

"I don't think Ratchet would react well to you having a drink right now." And Drift is on thin enough ice with Ratchet as it is. "But the other?" He leans forward, gingerly, spreading his arms.

"In all fairness Ratchet doesn't react well to many things. But I see your point."

O-oh... she was just making the offhanded comment, but an actual hug? Yeah, maybe it's really weak of her or something. But fuck you, she gets to hug robots. Which means sort of... standing up and. Trying to reach.

Well. Okay. She makes it more of a pressing against his chest plate... but he's kind of big, and she can't reach up around his neck really from here.

"I know I sound like a hypocrite, but you need to follow his orders. We need you well."

He's glad she doesn't press the issue, because well...he's already got a long track record of getting yelled at by Ratchet and if she put him in the position to choose between sneaking her alcohol or not, what she wanted would win.

And the 'hug' is sort of off proportion, and it may be a little upsetting to her to have him fold his arms around her, the red panels of his shoulders curling around her, surrounding her in metal. Is he doing this right?

"I know... I will."

No need to put him in any Ratchet-related peril. She knows full well that it's not a fun spot to be in.

Actually that's kind of perfect. Surrounded in metal is what she's used to, growing up on ships and stations. Working the job she did. It feels right at home. She curls her hands over the edge of his chestplate and heaves a small, relaxed sigh.

"Thank you, Drift."

But he would, for her, face even Ratchet's wrath. Wrathchet.

His voice rumbles through his armor as he murmurs, "Any time."

"What else can I do?"

"I... can we just. Stay like this. For a while?"

It's kind of an awkward thing to ask, but she kind of desperately needs the very basic form of comfort, and Drift is like a big friendly, dorky bunny. A surprisingly huggable one at that.

"That's not weird for you, is it?"

"As long as you want me to." This is the least he could do. He wishes he could do more, but if this is what she wants, what she needs, he can do this.

She closes her eyes and rests her face against his plating. He's warm, humming with life, and solid. It's no wonder that she falls asleep there after a while, drifting back into the unusually quiet, dreamless rest she had been getting since the whole thing happened.

The Pills Won't Help You Now [OPEN]

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