Notes: A loose take on an idea posted to the LJ community tf_bunny_farm.

Disclaimer: Not mine

..

Bedside Manner

Wheeljack onlined his optics to the rust-orange ceiling of medbay.

"What happened?" he asked – only, no, he didn't. The words came out as a staticky croak and Ratchet was hovering over his berth in an instant, optics burning close to white beneath his chevron.

"Wheeljack," the medic started, voice tight with relief before he reined the emotion in and his worried features morphed into a scowl. "Took your sweet time coming to," he grumbled, picking up a tool from a tray beside the berth. "Can you feel this?"

"Mmf!" Wheeljack twitched as Ratchet prodded a bare circuit. He felt disoriented, as he always did when he came online in medbay to his lover's hovering and mood swings. "Ratchet. What happened?"

"Oh, nothing out of the usual," Ratchet said with sarcasm plain for the inventor to hear. "Primus only knows what you were building, but it exploded in your face, just like that EMP device two weeks ago, just like the energon converter last quartex. How's this feel?"

"Ow! It hurts!"

"Good. That means your electrical pathways are healing." Ratchet frowned at him grimly before putting down his tool and closing the panel on Wheeljack's torso. "Do you want to hear the damage report?"

Wheeljack winced under Ratchet's glare. "Not really."

Ratchet leaned over him. "Well, you're going to hear it. One of your primary fuel lines was ruptured. You had critical energon loss, power surges, lacerations to the plating of your upper body and arms, concussion damage – I had to overhaul your sensory networks. And," he went on, jabbing a finger in Wheeljack's face, "all but reconstruct your left knee from scrap parts."

"Not so bad, then. Is that all?"

Ratchet stiffened and glanced significantly toward the tray piled with his heaviest wrenches and spanners.

"Come on, Ratch'," Wheeljack said quickly, anxious to draw Ratchet's attention back to himself. "I almost blew myself up. You should be nice to me."

He found that he could move his arm easily, and he reached his hand out to touch Ratchet's thigh. Ratchet didn't relax his tense stance, but didn't slap Wheeljack's hand away, either.

"Is that what I should do? Kiss you better? Cater to your every need?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Ratchet halted the upward movement of Wheeljack's hand. "Too bad being 'nice' to you never seems to teach you anything."

Wheeljack's optics dimmed. "You're really angry," he whispered forlornly.

And Ratchet was, but still, he plucked the hand from his thigh and rubbed his thumb over the fingers. "I was worried. You can't imagine what it's like. When Skyfire carried you in here, dripping energon on the floor, unconscious – I was worried."

"Come on, Ratch'." In spite of his injuries and Ratchet's obvious distress, Wheeljack managed a weak grin. "You know I'm indestructible."

The look on Ratchet's face hardened instantly. "I wouldn't be so flip about it. You know if you weren't laid up in medbay, I'd blister the paint right off your aft."

Wheeljack's fins flared brightly. "So when do I get to leave?"