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

video

[asafepairofhands]

...come to medical when you can, then. I'm free

Re: video

[knaval]

Alright.

[he's there in about five minutes. ratchet will probably be relieved to see that for once he's all nice and shiny with no open gaping wounds anywhere.]

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet looks him over with a critical optic anyway, his mouth a thin line as he gestures to one of the slabs for Riptide to sit and starts an exam, taking readings.]

We have some newcomers. [His voice is very flat.] Ravage and Swerve. They're from a little farther along than the rest of us. Have you spoken to either of them?

[knaval]

No. I figured it's for the best if I didn't.

[remember how he betrayed all his friends for dead?]

[asafepairofhands]

Yes. You're probably right.

[Ratchet's mouth pulls taut at the corners and he looks up at Riptide, his throat tight--but Riptide has a right to know as much as any of them do.]

Skids doesn't make it. I heard from Ultra Magnus, who heard it from both of them, confirmed independently. He's dead.

[knaval]

[everyone dying is something riptide had expected for a long time, but knowing for sure, specifically...

maybe it just doesn't sink in properly, or maybe riptide is just getting far too good at pushing everything down, but he doesn't outwardly react much. nothing beyond a little shake and his optics refocusing, but that's about it. how magnus was, suddenly, makes a lot more sense. riptide doesn't know if he and skids were friends, but he knows skids was a remarkably good person. everyone did; everyone likes skids! it's only just occurred to riptide that no one has actually given him a definitive list of the people who were betrayed in the mutiny. more just keep showing up that hate him, more that riptide thought were his friends, and more that make him wonder how he was convinced to go along when the djd were involved.

magnus and ratchet had been the ones to tell him it's okay, they can't pin it all on him. he's paid after what tarn did.

riptide never believed it.

for a moment, he considers lashing out the way he has before. crying and screaming like a sparkling, as ultra magnus put it. shaming the memory of his friends because he's too much of a selfish coward to bring himself to do anything else. instead, he just stays still, gripping his own elbow hard enough to dent the metal and feeling like his spark is wrapped in barbed wire.

skids is dead, his friend is dead, and riptide knows he practically pulled the trigger.]

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet looks down at him, his own chest aching with conflicting emotion. He knows this isn't Riptide's fault, knows they don't know what happened. He knows that Riptide cared about Skids, even--that they were friends. That Riptide has no idea how he could have betrayed them all to the D.J.D. of all people. That Riptide himself died at Tarn's hands.

[But his friend is still dead, and he's still angry and in pain--partly because he knows that whatever else happened, Skids is dead partly because Ratchet couldn't save him. He blows a shaky hiss of air from his vents, his voice raw and staticky.]

Riptide...

[knaval]

[his jaw sets and he still says nothing. hell, he practically considers locking it.

he doesn't, though and he opens his mouth. as usual, something stupid comes out of it.]

Are you trying to rub it in?

[asafepairofhands]

No.

[Ratchet's voice is thin.]

But I know he was your friend. I thought you deserved to know.

[knaval]

You don't know me. [he says, tone taking on an ugly kind of anger.] Of course you want to rub it in.

You... you and Magnus of all people wouldn't screw with me and tell me it's alright, when it's not!

[asafepairofhands]

Of course it's not all right.

[Ratchet's voice is ragged with static before he cuts himself off, turning his face away and pressing the back of one claw over his mouth, his ventilations shaky for a moment as he swallows hard.]

Skids is dead. Of course it's not all right. Would you prefer to have no idea? Would you rather not have known at all?

[knaval]

I don't know. I don't care, because how I feel means literally nothing. Less than nothing. Magnus told me I could've stopped it at any time, but I didn't.

[his lip curls in a sneer.]

So don't try and tell me you're telling me because you care.

[asafepairofhands]

You don't care.

[Ratchet echoes, his voice numb and his optics wide and pale as he stares down at Riptide, his face utterly unreadable.]

Skids is dead, and you're telling me you don't care whether you know about it or not?

[knaval]

[POURIN THAT PETROL ALL OVER HIS BRIDGES MMM]

No! I don't c-care! None of it matters and you-- can't--!

[so yeah anyway riptide is dumb and cares a lot so he can't even pretend he doesn't care for longer than 5 seconds.]

[asafepairofhands]

I see.

[Ratchet just watches him, his tanks rolling and his ventilations shallow and fast as his claws curl in carefully, the closest he can get to clenching a fist.]

[knaval]

[riptide can't calm himself down, knowing he deserves it. skids is dead and he tried to say he didn't care, jesus, what kind of a monster is he??

he barely looks at ratchet. a far cry from how self assured he'd seemed when he first came in.]

Are you going to finish? [he asks, sounding unbelievably exhausted.] Or have you remembered how much you hate me?

[asafepairofhands]

I don't hate you, Riptide.

[Ratchet's voice is very quiet as he reaches out and closes delicate claws on Riptide's chin, tilting his face gently and inexorably up to check his optics, then completing the rest of his scans.]

Your spark is low-yield--it looks like it's been degrading steadily for some time. You need to be careful.

[knaval]

Good.

[on some level he already knew. it would be hard not to notice something like that.]

Give me one more good fright and maybe I'll stop being such a fragging inconvenience to you.

[asafepairofhands]

[That actually makes Ratchet flinch a little, taking a half-step back and forcing his shoulders not to slump.]

Riptide, I-- [He doesn't even know where to begin, not really.] I didn't--

[knaval]

You didn't what? You said it yourself..

[he throws his hands up.]

Oh, no, I'm sorry! If that happens it'll just be a mess you need to clean up! Well, maybe if I'm lucky Tarn won't be involved!

[asafepairofhands]

I didn't mean--

[He goes still, his voice dying in his vocalizer and his optics sliding away helplessly. He looks unspeakably weary.]

Riptide...

[knaval]

Stop.

[he pushes ratchet's claws away from his face.]

Why is is degrading? Am I going to die?

[asafepairofhands]

If I had to guess, it's a result of the event you had when Magnus showed up. [He hesitates for a moment, his mouth twisting as he looks like he's trying to decide whether to laugh, cry, or scream before he settles on none of those and continues speaking calmly.] Normally I'd advise someone under your circumstances to avoid stress.

[knaval]

That's hilarious.

[he says, clearly not finding any part of this funny whatsoever.]

So what do I do now? Just wait for it keep going until it goes out?

[asafepairofhands]

There are some alternative treatments that I could try.

[He taps one clawtip against the front of Riptide's chassis.]

Open, please.