capitalh | (no subject)

Drift’s been allowed out into the city here and there, but for the most part, it’s just been day after day of menial tasks around base. He never raises a complaint about it, but after a while it starts to get mind-numbingly boring to the point where he’s become a bit anxious. Today he’s stuck at base too…but what’s different about today is that he’s been assigned to help out in the medibay.

Ratchet’s never had any reservations about staying away from him, but it’s impossible for them to avoid each other completely in a camp so small with only a handful of personnel. Somehow though, they’d managed to do it for a while (other than the bare minimum) - ever since the fight with Megatron and Soundwave…and ever since Drift had come clean about his lies.

Dread’s built up in his spark…and this time it’s because he’s not sure what to expect. The only thing he is sure of is that it’ll be worse…worse any of their interactions before.

Drift moves inside the medibay – walking straight towards Ratchet, but keeping a few feet between them. His body’s tense, though not very noticeably, and his voice is quiet. “I’m here to help you out for the rest of the day. Anything I can do?”

Ratchet's optics flick up from the datapad he's reading, his optics flaring briefly in surprise before his mouth sets into a thin, hard line.

"This is Magnus' idea of a punishment, I suppose," he says flatly. "Though I wish he'd consider everyone he was punishing in the process." He jerks his head at a pile of instruments in the corner. "Those need cleaning, if you're so inclined. Otherwise you can 'help' by staying out of my way."

“Isn’t that all I’ve been doing? I don’t want to get in your way.”

Maybe, for both of their sakes, it would be better if he just stayed quiet. He doesn’t have any allusions about the two of them getting along at this point, but he’s surprised at the amount of guilt that Ratchet’s words draw out of him, and not saying anything seems somehow worse.

Drift moves over towards the instruments and picks one up – examining it almost absentmindedly.

"You have a fascinating way of showing it," Ratchet says, sounding nettled, but he doesn't look up from his datapad or otherwise acknowledge Drift's existence, his face carefully blank.

“How exactly? We barely say two words to each other unless I’m already half dead in the medibay. What more can I even do to stay out of your way?”

Drift glances briefly in Ratchet’s direction and a slight, uncomfortable chill passes through him upon seeing the other bot’s expression. He quickly turns his attention back towards the instruments – gathering a tray of them up and moving over towards a sink.

Ratchet goes still, and his voice is icy when he speaks again.

"I don't know," he says, turning slowly to let his optics bore holes in Drift's back. "Leading us all on a wild turbofox chase after Rodimus for weeks while we had no idea whether or not he was dead in a ditch somewhere or injured and unable to comm for help certainly put a crimp in my schedule, now that you mention it."

He whirls back around – circuits buzzing with sudden anger. Ratchet’s gaze isn’t anything less than unnerving, but his own optics sheen unflinchingly as he speaks.

“A ‘crimp in your schedule’? Glad to hear he’s so high on your list of priorities.”

Ratchet sets down his datapad with a quiet click and stands, slowly, his optics sharp on Drift's face.

"You think after everything you helped put this team through--the lying and the secrecy and the sneaking high-grade down to the brig and having the damn phase shifter shoved under your bed this whole time--you think you have the right to stand there and lecture me about priorities?"

Drift grits his teeth – fingers clenching tightly against the sides of the tray. He’d expected Ratchet to be angry, if nothing else – to pick apart everything he’d done and throw it in his face. And he’d been prepared to just take it. But Rachet’s list of talents seemed to include making Drift angry…that and making every one of their conversations as unpleasant as possible.

“If you want to make this about what I did? Fine. But I’m really running low on patience for people who act like they can’t be bothered with my friend.”

Ratchet's lip curls, his voice icy cold.

"Some 'friend' you are, letting him go haring off by himself into the middle of a Decepticon base with no communication and no backup except you, to possibly be captured or killed. Rodimus isn't equipped for espionage, Drift! They all knew he was bogus the second he walked through their damn door, or I'll resign as CMO--it's a miracle he came back in one piece not having been wrung out like a rag for sensitive information, which he has, let alone that they didn't just shoot him on sight. That's what you call being a friend?"

Ratchet's optics narrow. "And what would you have done if he had called you for help? Run off, unassisted, with no intelligence or backup, straight into the middle of a Decepticon base, to let everybody think you'd defected? Do you know, Arcee defended you? She put her own integrity on the line while acting commander of the entire Autobot army on your behalf, and you blew it by lying to her multiple times. She trusted you enough to go toe-to-toe with Ultra Magnus about it, and all she got was you screwing her." He makes a disgusted sound in his throat and turns away again, picking up the datapad and moving to start doing inventory, his back to Drift. He looks over his shoulder, catching Drift's expression with one optic.

"You know, I'm disappointed, but at least I'm used to it from you. I've been taught better. You could go a little easier on the people who are still learning."

If the words sting at all, the last remark nullifies their effects. Drift’s optics blaze back at Ratchet and his voice hardens almost immediately. “Well. I’m sorry that I ‘disappointed’ you. But we both know it doesn’t really matter what I try, does it? Because nothing’s ever going to be good enough for you.”

Without turning his gaze away, Drift slides the tray onto a nearby countertop – his body tensing instinctively as he leans forward in an almost threatening manner.

“You’re acting like everything I did was so cut and dry. I’m not used to having people that I care about like them. I’m not used to having people who care about me. I had the ‘good fortune’ of getting caught in the middle of the only two people who even give a damn about me…and I made my choices.

I’m not going to stand here and try to justify myself to you, or act like I haven’t screwed up at all. I know I screwed up. I hate that I let Arcee down and I hate that I put Rodimus in danger. If Arcee wanted to cut ties with me completely, I wouldn’t blame her. And even if she does, I won’t care about her any less than I do now.

So if you want to ream me out, go ahead…whether you think I’m a disappointment or not doesn’t matter. Because when you get down to it, they’re the ones that I have to face and they’re the ones who get to decide if I’m their friend.”

(no subject)

For Ratchet

JUST FOUND THIS AGAIN...

SORRY, I ACTUALLY FORGOT TO RESEND YOU THE LINK THE OTHER DAY

NO WORRIES

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