[closed] epic sax guy 10 hours

[knaval]

Who: riptide and ratchet also maybe others later
When: on the 5th, after tarn took a giant dump on riptide on the 1st
Where: mediaby
What: emotions
Warnings: sappy robot bullshit



[riptide wasn't sure what he'd wake up to. part of him had expected the inside of a cryo tube again, but he knew he wouldn't be that lucky. everything still hurts, a dull ache indicative of painkillers present somewhere. his single functioning optic struggles to focus, showing double for a few moments. it takes a lot of effort for him to even turn his head to look around.

bugger all on one side. sleeping medic on the other. ratchet's got his arms crossed, head resting on them. riptide squints.

guess he got here somehow. he doesn't remember, and frowning in thought hurts. goddamnit, tarn.

before he slowly flexes and bends his arm, riptide tries to speak to get ratchet's attention. nothing comes out except a soft hiss. he was lucky this time; tarn didn't crush either of his arms. reaching up and tapping the middle of ratchet's chevron with his finger isn't too hard.]

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet jerks awake, jacknifing up off the slab and staring around, claws trembling and his optics wide and a little wild. He stares down at Riptide, trying to compose himself as he straightens, the lines carved deep around his mouth.]

Riptide. [His voice sounds like he's the one with the half-repaired vocalizer.] Are you--you're awake. Hell. [The weak, melting relief in his voice is plainly audible, and he struggles to his feet and tries to control the tremors running through his limbs.] Let me, I should--I'll run some scans. Can you speak at all? How much pain are you in?

[knaval]

[he groans a little, optic flickering. opens his mouth. closes it again. has to stop a shitty little grin from spreading across his shitty face.]

Ugh... Ratchet...

[he gestures him closer.]

Important...

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet doesn't catch the expression but he does lean in, one claw touching Riptide's shoulder, his whole body tense.]

What? Riptide, what's wrong?

[knaval]

Had an... awakening.

[he pushes himself up off the slab, putting great effort into his shitty joke.]

Let me... tell you...

[suddenly, riptide wraps his arm around ratchet's shoulders, now half-yelling.]

ABOUT PRIMUS!!

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet jerks in his hold and pushes him back, staring down at him with an awful, unreadable expression on his face before it twists and he chuffs a thick, helpless laugh, sinking back down into his chair again. The laughter shifts, his throat constricting and light spilling helplessly from his optics as he presses his claws to his face and curls in against the side of the berth, his shoulders shaking, unable to help himself.

[This is awful, humiliating--Riptide is the one who needs care now, and breaking down like this isn't going to help anyone but he can't help himself, all the panic and anger and struts-deep fear that Riptide would die under his poor excuses for hands all because he wasn't good enough melting away against the realization that Riptide is well enough to make a stupid joke within two minutes of being awake. The realization that he might actually be all right.

[Still, he can't lift his head and look at Riptide quite yet, light leaking visibly around the thin claws as he trembles, making hitched, half-static sounds in his vocalizer as he struggles desperately for control over his frayed nerves.]

[knaval]

Oh-- hhh [that was a bad idea. riptide's midriff is complaining greatly. he winces and carefully lays back down, keeping his optic on ratchet.] Rat--Chet...! I didn't mean to-- to...

[he put too much effort into that joke. everything hurts and he can't talk properly now. he's having a horrible, painful, chest clenching feeling of devastation at seeing ratchet of all people break down. someone who he'd thought was an impenetrable wall of salt.  riptide feels the painkillers start to force him offline again and he overrides it, reaching out a shaky hand - he can't even stretch enough to properly touch ratchet when he's sitting back like this but manages to curl his index finger around one claw.]

Don't cry! [it's pathetic, pleading, begging him to stop. riptide didn't want this to happen. he tugs the claw slightly, trying to get it away from ratchet's face.] Y-you did good! You patched up the mess Tarn made again!

[asafepairofhands]

[That wrenches a sound from him, taut and agonized, his helm jerking up and his claw closing around Riptide's hand, too distracted to be self-conscious.]

I'm sorry. [The words are wrenched from him, his expression helpless, little flares of light still curling out at the edges of his optics.] Riptide I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean any of those things I said, I was upset because my hands were failing and I was cruel to you and I'm sorry. it was inexcusable but it wasn't true. All right? Please.

[knaval]

[riptide's expression crimps. he'd clocked on ratchet's hands being trash, but not until he'd actually seen the claws months later. he chuffs out a half laugh, tugging ratchet closer when his horrible goblin claws wrap around his hand.]

M'sorry-- I didn't... [he stops, half repaired vocaliser resetting with a horrible grinding clicking.] Thought you were just... sick of me.

[asafepairofhands]

No. No I was just--it was difficult. I stripped the paint off Whirl's plating, too, I'm surprised he's still talking to me. But I was never sick of you. I didn't mean any of the things I said, I was just... trying to get you to go, because I couldn't handle what was happening. It wasn't your fault.

[Ratchet's still a little shaky, but he heaves himself to move closer to Riptide, gripping his hand back firmly.]

How are you feeling? There are still a lot of repairs to be done, but you're stable. It-- [Ratchet looks haunted, briefly, his optics paling before they slide away.] It was touch-and-go there for a bit. Wasn't sure if I could work fast enough to make the repairs before your body just quit. But you're going to be all right.

[knaval]

[riptide grunts, shifting a little. wincing as his raw internals rub against each other.]

My fine.  Sore. [he breaks optic contact with ratchet letting his head drop back. he stares at the ceiling for a long few moments.] D-deserved it anyway. Ran into Tarn doing something moronic and... selfish.

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet keeps hold of Riptide's hand, watching him with uncomfortably keen optics.]

No. You don't deserve it. You didn't deserve it--any of this. I don't hate you and I'm not sick of you and even considering the news from home, you didn't deserve what happened, Riptife. Do you understand me?

[knaval]

But-- Skids!

[he winces again, the effort of having emotions and talking so much hurting.]

W-was trying to leave. For good. Running from it.

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet flinches visibly at the mention of Skids' name, but he doesn't let go of Riptide.]

Yes. Skids. Ravage, too. I think... [He turns his claw against Riptide's hand, inspecting it where its curled in his.] I think we've lost enough crew. ...I think I've failed enough of you, for the time being. I think I don't want to lose anyone else.

[knaval]

[now it's riptide's turn for light spilling out his optic.]

I-I didn't want to h...hurt anyone else ... by being there.

[he wheezes, trying to override the painkillers again. riptide also tugs ratchet towards him a few times.]

M'sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet sits shakily on the edge of the berth, letting Riptide tug him in.]

Shhh, shh. It's all right. This is hard, Riptide. For--for everyone. Especially because we don't have the full story of what was going on. But I'm glad you're still here.

[knaval]

[he pushes himself onto his side, despite the fact one of his legs doesn't seem to be working properly. riptide wraps his arms around ratchet's waist.]

Best... medic-- friend.

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet actually snorts a soft, staticky laugh, shifting closer and gathering Riptide carefully up against him.]

I'm the only medic here, kid.

[knaval]

[riptide makes a noise that might be a giggle if his vocaliser wasn't half paste and pulls ratchet again, trying to get him fully onto the berth.]

Painkillers p-putting me off... line.

[he scoots over.]

Finish your na... nap.

[asafepairofhands]

You need your rest. I'm fine.

[Riptide seems insistent, though, so he lets himself be dragged down to the berth, resting carefully against Riptide's side.]

Recharge. It's all right.

[knaval]

[grumbling something incoherent, riptide wraps his noodles around ratchet.

he's really high on painkillers, okay.]

Nuh... you're... always not sl-sleep enough. [he buries his face in ratchet's neck, giving him a little smooch.] Sssstay. S-stay.

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet shivers all over and goes still against Riptide, his optics soft and a little stunned.]

Not going anywhere.

[knaval]

G-good.

[he squeezes ratchet.]

Thank you.

[asafepairofhands]

Of course.

[His voice is low.]

Riptide--of course.

*plays myself and keeps doing tags inbetween overwatch games that make no sense*

[knaval]

[JOKES ON YOU RATCHET HE'S ALREADY ASLEEP.

anyway about 10 hours later, riptide wakes up again. he can't say the same for ratchet, but it's mildly alarming waking up with little to no memory of what happened and ratchet in his arms.

briefly, he panics. is ratchet hurt? riptide pushes himself up and tries to look over the medic, but can't see any energon or anything that might indicate injury. the effort alone exhausts him again, and he flops back down, grunting.]

smooches ur hed

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet makes a low sound, shifting a little as Riptide moves against him, his optics flickering on before he rolls over carefully, catches Riptide's alarmed expression, and sits up so fast he has to brace himself, dizzied.]

Riptide. You--are you all right? How are you feeling?