Closed to Lucio/Open later to medbay

[justice_from_above]

Who: Pharah, Lucio, and any medbay people who want to help
When: After this
Where: Random hallway to Medbay
What: Pharah made some poor decisions
Warnings: Injury

Pharah had plenty of time to think about her poor decision as she tried to stumble back to to medbay. She should have been more on guard, shouldn't have let him get so close, shouldn't have engaged in the situation at all.

But would it have made a difference? Would he have tried to get to her anyway?

Her thoughts are disjunct, hazy, as she threatens to slip into unconsciousness. The wounds Reaper had inflicted weren't grievous, but they were calculated, precise enough to do maximum damage with minimum effort. She leans against the wall for a short break, and winds up sliding down to the ground as she starts losing her battle with blood loss. Whoever this Reaper was, he was well trained and efficient. Almost a perfect counter.

Comments

[justice_from_above]

She's struggling, she's definitely a fighter, but she is fading. Reaper wasn't joking about leaving a message; she's trailing it all down the hall.

"Phoenix, maybe, or Horsehead." Trying to think of galaxies they might recognize, trying to will herself awake. Once thing does finally dawn on her through the haze; Lúcio, music, beats --

"You're - you're that DJ ... "

[wallride]

"That's right, Pharah. That's me."

Lúcio pointedly doesn't look back down the hall.

"We're almost there, okay? You got real far on your own. Just another couple minutes. What other galaxies do you know? Have you heard of the...uh, the Spindeck nebula?" He says, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

[justice_from_above]

"No, I don't ... don't know that ... one ..." Almost there, but she can't quite keep holding on. Reality seems so far away right now; a small prick of color surrounded by darkness. Her footing stumbles and her grip on Lúcio's shoulders start to slip. There's one valiant attempt to keep pressing on before her body gives in and she passes out.

[wallride]

"Come on, Pharah, you can do this..." He mumbles as she slips. "Shit!"

Lúcio ducks around quickly, trying to catch her as she falls limp and to clamp his own hand over the wound in her neck. He pulls her along awkwardly, trying to avoid doing any more accidental damage despite the blood making his hands and clothes slick, making it hard to keep a solid grip. Lúcio bellows as soon as he can see the medibay entrance.

"Hey! Medic! Is anyone in there? I need some help right now!"

She's going to be fine. They have super advanced technology, he tells himself. They can help her.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet almost jumps his protoform out of his plating at the sharp voice from the entrance, and it takes him a baffled second to actually recognize it as Lúcio's. He drops what he's doing instantly when he does--anybody as habitually cheerful as Lúcio sounding that upset merits immediate investigation.

"Here," he calls, taking a few steps before he stops cold, his optics paling at the swath of gore streaking down both of them and trailing in their wake out the medbay doors. "Damn it." He's not going to be of much use to either of them in his root mode so he backs up and folds downward, leaving an ambulance parked in the corner as his holoform blinks to life, already half-running across the medbay and leaning in to help Lúcio get her up again.

"Get her on a slab," he says, his voice clipped short. He spares a half-second to flick his eyes over Lúcio as he stoops to lift Pharah's legs. "You injured?"

[wallride]

"No," He replies instantaneously. "Just Pharah; I found her like this. She was conscious and responsive up until a few minutes ago."

He hooks his arms under Pharah's, lifting with all his tiny frog might.

[asafepairofhands]

Between them they get her heaved up onto a hospital cot and Ratchet looks helplessly at the tremendous amount of blood she's lost even as his hands keep moving, checking for injuries and finding that the only serious ones appear to be at her throat. He pours antiseptic over them, glad that she's unconscious, and starts wrapping them as fast as he can while still making sure the dressings aren't tight enough to choke her. His own hands are smudged slick with blood by the time he's done as he feels carefully at her throat, but the punctures seem to be the only damage.

The only outward damage, at any rate--she's clammy under his fingertips, pulse thready, her skin ashen. "Get me an IV pole," he says without looking up at Lúcio as he checks Pharah's blood type and heads to their reserves, white-faced and tight-lipped and tense.

[wallride]

"On it," He says, in turn not looking at Ratchet and skating off immediately. Thankfully, he's seen enough TV to know what an IV pole vaguely looks like and has two (just in case!) when he comes back. Lúcio positions them, then moves back out the way, tilts his head in concern.

"Come on, captain. You got this. You liked the healing beats, yeah? Reaper ain't gonna be no thing when my friend here is done."

[asafepairofhands]

"Thanks," Ratchet says absently, eyes still on his patient as he preps the IV and secures it in place with medical tape, looping the bag over the top of the pole and watching the vivid red fluid curl through the hose and into the crook of Pharah's elbow. He slings a bag of saline solution onto the other pole and attaches it to the Y-tubing before he steps back, bloodstained and looking a little numb, his face worn and strangely expressionless as he looks down at her. He shakes himself out of it after a second and looks up at Lúcio, his mouth drawing down into a frown.

"What the hell happened to her? Besides hypovolemic shock, I mean."

[wallride]

"Hypo... man, I don't know!" He says, sounding genuinely distressed.

"There I was just skating along and suddenly there's a ton of blood and she's laying in the corridor like someone just dumped her there--"

Lúcio has to stop and press a hand to his face to calm down, both from the anger at someone hurting Pharah so badly and general anxiety of the situation.

[asafepairofhands]

"Hey--hey," Ratchet says, almost reaching out to grip Lúcio's shoulder before he realizes just how much blood is on his hands. He wipes them down and curls his fingers carefully around one of Lúcio's elbows, trying to get him to look at Ratchet again.

"You did good. You got her here as fast as you could and she's going to be all right." He shifts his grip to Lúcio's shoulders, bright blue eyes narrowing. "Are you all right?"

[wallride]

"I know, I know. That's all I wanted to hear." It's true, he relaxes considerably at Ratchet's confirmation. He puts his wub gun down on the small table next to the cot regardless, beats playing at lowest volume.

"I'll be fine."

[asafepairofhands]

"Good."

Ratchet squeezes and lets go, settling back a little.

"You want to rinse off, maybe? We've probably got spare uniforms around here somewhere, if you need to be wearing something else, I can take a look."

[wallride]

"Huh? Oh." He's only just realised he's covered in Pharah's blood. "It's fine, man, I have the ship uniform they gave me. I can go change into that."

A pause, while he looks over to Pharah.

"I'll help clean up before I go. Do you mind if I stay here for her?"

[asafepairofhands]

"Not at all. Especially if you're willing to help with cleanup." Ratchet's eyes are still keen on Lúcio--he'd looked pretty shaken up, just a bit ago.

"You don't have to, you know--you've committed enough thrilling heroics for one afternoon without sticking around to mop the floors."

[wallride]

He still is. He's just too used to having to hide it.

"Pssh, come on, dude. I'm sure you have enough work to do already." he says, smiling a little.

Pharah's going to be alright, and that's the important thing. That means Lúcio will be too.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet just nods, his eyes keen on Lúcio's for a moment before he turns away, checking Pharah's vitals again before the holoform just... winks out. The ambulance in the corner shifts again, transforming back up so Ratchet can start gathering materials to help clean the floor.

[wallride]

Lúcio startles slightly when the holoform stops existing, taking a moment before his brain catches up and he looks over to Ratchet transforming.

"Hey, uh. Before I forget. She's from the same Earth I am. You remember the stuff I told you about the Omnics, right?"

[asafepairofhands]

"...some of it." Ratchet looks up at him warily, a frown starting on his face. "Why do you ask?"

[wallride]

"She's military," he says, sighing. "Said her rank was captain. She might not take too kindly to seeing a large mechanoid being hear her hospital bed."

He looks over to Ratchet, taking his eyes of Pharah finally.

"Just sayin', man."

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet looks over at Lúcio, his expression calcifying slowly before he steps back and folds into his alt mode again, the holoform flickering back to life and picking up a mop.

"Good to know," he says, his voice flat.

[wallride]

"Sorry, man," he says, ignoring the holoform and skating past it to the ambulance. "Just didn't want you to get a nasty surprise."

Carefully, Lúcio puts a hand on one of the doors, patting it a little awkwardly. He means well, alright.

[asafepairofhands]

"It's all right," Ratchet says--the voice comes from the vehicle instead of the holoform, who is watching Lúcio with an unreadable expression on his face. "Kind of used to it, actually--just hasn't really been a problem here so far."

[wallride]

"You never know, she could be open minded. It's not like everyone discriminates." He shakes his head sadly at the idea of someone as kind as Ratchet being hated for what he is.

"We've come a long way since the crisis. Just better to be safe than sorry."

A beat.

"Plus, honestly, if a 20 foot tall ro-" Lúcio pointedly corrects himself, "Cybertronian was the first thing I saw after waking up in a hospital, I might just crap my pants!"

[asafepairofhands]

"No, I hear you." Ratchet sounds tired, but he shakes it off, his eyes flicking up to Lúcio and his mouth tilting as he starts mopping the blood off the floor.

"Let's do everything we can to avoid that particular circumstance, in that case," he says dryly. "I have enough to clean up as it is."