video;

[asafepairofhands]

[This time when Ratchet starts broadcasting, the video clicks on. He looks a little worn, but there's an underlying stubborn determination there, deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth.]

Ratchet here. Consider the inorganic section of medical officially back in business. That goes for everyone who's even part mechanical, not just Cybertronians--my door is open.

If you are Cybertronian and I haven't seen you for a check, you're due. I'm aware I still can't exactly order any of the Decepticons around ranking medical officer or not, but except for certain individuals who know who they are, you're welcome as well and I recommend it. Who knows what the hell this place is doing to us--I'd appreciate a baseline just in case something does go wrong and I end up having to do something about it.

Anyway, that's it. Ratchet out.

Comments

[wallride]

[how annoying. a good point.]

Reaper. Found him beat up in an alley, barely able to stand and made the mistake of trying to help him. This was the thanks I got.

[asafepairofhands]

Wh--him again? What the hell is this guy's problem?

[Ratchet's clawtips are gentle against Lúcio's face as he turns him and leans in to inspect, running a quick scan and huffing a soft, relieved vent of air.]

Well, it's not broken. Have you iced it at all?

[wallride]

Massive grudge against a few people on the ship, taking it out on everyone else, seems like.

[he tilts where he needs to, doesn't flinch at all. he trusts ratchet that much, at least.]

Only briefly. Friggin' hurts like it's broken, man.

[asafepairofhands]

I see. [Ratchet's voice is very mild, almost thoughtful as he pulls away and goes to pluck a small cold pack out of a freezer and tuck it carefully into a towel before he drags a sloped piece of lab equipment a little closer and nudges Lúcio gently at his midsection.]

Sit, and lean back against that with this on your face. I'll get you some painkillers, then put this stuff away.

[wallride]

Sorry, doc. Don't you have anything more important to do? I mean-- this isn't really all that bad...

[he takes the icepack regardless, pressing it to his face and leaning back as instructed.]

[asafepairofhands]

Yeah, go on, keep apologizing for getting punched in the face while you were trying to help somebody.

[Ratchet's voice is rough and almost fond, pressing the back of one claw briefly to Lúcio's shoulder before he draws back and busies himself. He has enough precision with the claws now that he can pour a glass of water and open a human-sized pill bottle without breaking anything, and he presses the bottle into Lúcio's hand, not quite up to picking individual ibuprofen up with the tips of his claws.]

Here. Just relax for a minute, all right? This does, in fact, happen to be my job.

[wallride]

[lúcio watches all this intently, clearly fascinated. he doesn't comment on the new hands, but he takes one out and swallows it.]

I know, I know. I just don't want to take you away from anything more important.

[asafepairofhands]

More important than treating patients?

[Ratchet's tone is mild, but his mouth tugs up at one corner as he starts storing the extra supplies Lúcio brought, keeping an optic on him.]

[wallride]

More... urgent patients?

[c'mon man all he did was get punched...]

[asafepairofhands]

I know how to triage, thanks. [Ratchet pokes his shoulder, very lightly.] And since you are not currently in possession of the thing you usually use to treat injuries, I figure you could use some extra help.

[wallride]

[he can't help but groan.]

Yeah, and it's gonna be fun to see if I can get it back without getting a shotgun to the face.

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, then just hums, busying himself with putting things away again, an odd glint in his optics.]

How are you going to find him?

[wallride]

Not sure. Think I'm gonna ask the people who know him better how I can do it.

...If that fails then I'm gonna ask Reinhardt to break out his hammer.

[asafepairofhands]

Reinhardt? I met him, back on the last planet.

[Ratchet actually smiles a little, remembering.]

Seems like a good guy to have at your back when you go knocking on somebody's door to get your stuff.

[wallride]

Yeah, he is...

[lúcio trails of for a moment.]

I dunno. He said he was part of Overwatch and apparently this Reaper guy was part of Overwatch, maybe he wouldn't be the best person to ask. I don't want to upset him.

[asafepairofhands]

Hmmm, maybe.

[Ratchet slants a glance down at Lúcio, his helm tilting a little.]

You want me to go with you?

[wallride]

Ha, if I decide to put the fear of mechanical God into him!

[lúcio meets ratchet's look, grinning.]

I'll tell you how initial attempts go, then we can see where to go from there.

[asafepairofhands]

Hey, I could use my hard light avatar instead. Either way, I won't care about getting a shotgun to the face.

[wallride]

Oh, no. I believe you. I just don't want to make a display. I don't want him to think I'm out to hurt him, even if he's out to do the same to me.

[asafepairofhands]

...yeah. 'Course you don't.

[Ratchet watches Lúcio fondly for a moment, then reaches out to pluck the ice pack off his face and swap it out for a new one.]

GUESS WHO LOST THIS TAG

[wallride]

I'm just saying. He seemed to respond well at first. Right up until he was... back to full health.

I GUESS A GOOD AND FINE JABBERS, WHOM I LOVE

[asafepairofhands]

Well that's promising.

EXCUSE ME

[wallride]

It is. He didn't try and attack me right away like a rabid animal. There's still hope for him.

I don't think he's had a good time, judging by what I've heard from people who knew him. He wasn't always like that, apparently.

YOU ARE EXCUSED

[asafepairofhands]

That sure as hell doesn't give him license to do this.

[Ratchet reaches out and touches the underside of Lúcio's chin with a single, delicate clawtip, frowning slightly.]

[wallride]

[and here is a big ol' pout.]

It's not that bad. He didn't even break it. Could've been holding back for all I know.