Even apples won't keep this one away

[docbot]

WHO: Ratchet and YOU
WHERE: Solus's Temple - Medbay
WHEN During/after the Event
WHAT: Medbay shenanigans
WARNINGS: None yet

There's a lot of people who were injured during the Second Wave, and most of them are going to end up in the medbay somehow. This log is for anyone who wants to log dragging/being dragged in for repairs, having repairs done/finished, or just coming to visit Ratchet to watch or help out. Ratchet's openned the Med Bay to everyone, just tag in a new thread with a time tag on it and I'll log with you c:

(Although, Starscream might get screamed at and mauled for removing Blurr's arm >>)

Comments

[sword_redemption]

Drift's barely conscious as they bring him in, because otherwise he would be resisting, under the dread terror of a Much Deserved Lecture from Ratchet. As gentle as they tried to be, he can't help but whimper because the movement jars him, making his balance gyros lurch sickeningly.

_{"I am...so tired...of being sick."}

You have no idea. He's stabbed himself before, right through the chassis, and that was less awful than this.

[docbot]

Ratchet is immediately at his side, hands already moving to hit the sensor nodes that will numb Drift's pain temporarily.

"Run me down on what's wrong, Drift. Were you attacked by something? Poisoned?"

His scanner is out and running, and his eyes go wide when he realizes that, as bad as Drift looks outside, his internals are even worse.

"Primus, mech. This is..."

He spits out a burst of static as he starts scanning in more detail, trying to figure out what's most damaged, and what he might try to even stabilize Drift.

[winged_knight]

After gingerly setting Drift down on the med berth Wing takes several steps away to give Ratchet room. He feels he should go, see if he's needed elsewhere, but he finds himself hovering a bit instead, hoping to at least hear a prognosis.

He has his own share of battle damage, and though it looks slightly dramatic--Thank you, Starscream--it's not hindering him at the moment. There are others here that are much higher priority.

we can split this if you guys need to

[sword_redemption]

_{"attacked by a lot of things."} It can't be a surprise that Drift was in the thick of the action.

"But." He lifts one arm, weakly. He's trying to show that he doesn't have any serious battle damage: no missing limbs or seriously caved in armor or anything. See? he was trying to live up to his promise, Ratchet.

But whatever Ratchet does helps. The pain starts receding, in slow waves, like a retreating tide.

"I'm sorry?"

I'm okay for now? After Drift's stabilized, Ratchet's going to leave, anyway...

[docbot]

"But...?" Ratchet examines the arm, wondering if this is what's causing the widespread corrosion he's finding in Drift's system. It's ... actually pristine, though. "Ah. Yes, you managed to keep yourself outwardly in approximately one piece. I applaud you."

"Now." He cycles his vents furiously and leans in towards Drift's face. "Say 'Ah'."

Whatever you two think best, I'm good either way.

[winged_knight]

Wing stood patiently, actively working to disapate the nervous, fretful energy that threatened to take over his frame. It was easier to stay calm and focused in the midst of a challenge, something that required action, response; but here, now, when he was waiting and left with empty hands, it was a great deal harder.

"Given the number of combatants he engarged, I'd say he did it quite masterfully actually." Now, if only we could find out what was attacking his insides...

[sword_redemption]

Drift's optics, as the pain clears, flick restlessly to Wing. He really doesn't want the jet to see him like this. The whole 'leaking my insides out my optic orbits' was bad enough. At least that hadn't hurt like this.

"I've faced worse." Really, that's the part that puzzles him. He's fought worse, taken harder hits, and been fine. This is...incomprehensible.

Somehow that 'I applaud you' doesn't seem sincere, Ratchet. Maybe it's the sudden EXTREME CLOSE UP.

"AHHHH!!"

Close enough?

[docbot]

That's because it's not, Drift. That's because it's not.

Ratchet hums in acknowledgement of Wing and Drift's words, but he's more focussed on shining a light down Drift's throat.

"There's corrosion all through your fuel lines, but none down your major intake, so it's not something you drank..."

He backs off a bit, eyes narrowed. "You're sure none of the monsters bit you? No little darts or anything? The damage is so confined to your fuel-lines that I can't imagine any other way it might have happened..."

Even as he speculates, he takes Drift's arm and starts opening him up, searching for a fuel line close to the surface. It doesn't matter, in the end, what caused the damage, if he can figure out how to fix it.

"Either way, I'd like to take a sample, figure out how to counter whatever is contaminating your system. This might pinch a bit."

[winged_knight]

Wing shifts his feet uncomfortably. He's not really one to be squeamish, but he feels a little bit like an invader as the exam continues. He shifts his gaze away, casting it about the makeshift medbay but with his audio keyed tightly to Ratchet's investigative tones. He's torn between his terrible worry and his wish to respect Drift's privacy, something he hadn't yet been invited into share in.

"Ratchet... maybe I should wait outside. Unless you need me for something here?" He casts a questioning glance at Drift, because his need to be supportive of a friend is also very strong.

[sword_redemption]

Drift has suffered some indignities in the war, but none quite as undignifying as having a medic stare down your throat while the mech you have a totally secret nobody would ever guess crush on watches you...looking like a sick, mewling dork.

And Ratchet's doing that thing. You know, that thing where they ask a question and expect an answer somehow forgetting they've got something medical shoved in your mouth? Really. This could not get any worse.

But Ratchet eventually backs off, or at least renews his assault on Drift's dignity to another battleground.

"I...I don't normally pay attention to that sort of thing." You know, enemies with little darts and stuff. "But a bunch bit me." Seriously. Sharkticons. You know, those things that are like 90% face?

He watches as Ratchet opens up his armor, nodding weakly at the idea of a sample. Could this get any worse?

"But if that were the case, wouldn't he be sick too?" AHA! Evasion! Because now Ratchet will have to examine Wing.

Misery loves company~!

[docbot]

Ratchet's about to dismiss Wing, when Drift brings up his surprisingly valid point.

"Yes, that would be the eventual outcome."

The medic turns and meets Wing's gaze. "I really ought to take a sample from you too."

He holds out his hand expectantly.

"If this is some sort of delayed action toxin, I'd like to know before you or any of the other mechs collapses on me."

[winged_knight]

Wing's pinions droop slightly under Ratchet's gaze. What is it about medics that could do that to a person? Pin you with that look like they could see right through you. Proooobably because they sort of can.

"Delayed action?" He hadn't really thought of that. "Err, yes, I do suppose that would be best." He steps up to the med berth again and puts his wrist in Ratchet's hand. He's trying very hard to take a keen interest in what the medic is doing, but his optics flick up to Drift's face despite those efforts. Really, could he be more obvious?

Well, at least they were on equal footing now? Mostly.

literally out the door~!

[sword_redemption]

'Surprisingly valid', Ratchet? You wound Drift. Uh, if you can actually find room for another wound on his scratched up armor.

And Wing can join Drift in marveling about medics and their strange powers, but...didn't Wing say Ratchet 'liked' him? See how far that gets you, Wing?

But Drift does feel a little bad--well, on top of all the bad he's already feeling. He didn't mean to upset Wing. But still, until they know what this is, better safe than sorry? He'd rather scare Wing now, a little, than see Wing in Drift's current position.

I'm sorry, he mouths to the jet.