[audio]

[asafepairofhands]

[Only the audio clicks on, and the voice coming through the MID is worn, thin with static and carefully controlled.]

This is Chief--this is Ratchet, giving notice that the portion of the inorganic clinic I was running is currently closed until further notice, as of... now, apparently somewhere around a year from when I last checked. I'll be resuming my duties as soon as--when it's possible for me to do so.

In the meantime, I'm referring my patients to the regular medbay or to Tony Stark, depending on the complexity of the engineering involved. If it's a serious emergency... I can't help you, but I'll try to consult via MID if absolutely necessary. I am not available to answer five hundred questions about why, so don't bother asking. I need to work. Kindly refrain from calling me unless you're actively leaking to death.

...Ratchet out.


[PRIVATE TO WHIRL]
I need to speak with you in person. I'm sending you my coordinates.

Please.


[Somebody's hands finally stopped working to the point where he actually has to quit using them all the time and attach new ones, and he is not having a good day. Feel free to harass him, but there's no guarantee he'll respond.]

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

[There's a slight shifting noise from the other end of the comm as Ratchet reaches for it, then thinks better again and lets his hand drop, his optics pale with fury. He doesn't want to give Tarn the satisfaction, though, so he sits and glares at his MID like he could melt it with the force of his anger.]

[sparkwhisperer]

[Tarn hears the shift and can picture the utter rage etched on Ratchet's face.]

Nothing at all? I must say, I'm disappointed. I was certain that you cared enough about your fellow Autobots to at least speak up.

No matter, I'll be sure to let them know how you feel.

[The smug amusement is clear as day in his voice.]

Until next time, Ratchet. And there will be a next time.

[asafepairofhands]

That's the first smart thing you've said all day.

[He really can't help himself, but he doesn't even sound angry, his voice measured and even and horribly cold.]

I have no doubt there will be a next time, Tarn. And you will regret this.

[sparkwhisperer]

So you say, but I think you will find yourself harboring just as much regret.

[Finally. Tarn brushes off the weak threat.]

Try not to be so petty. That sort of attitude isn't helping anyone. I'll see you sometime soon.