Orn- 1 day

Joor- hour

Vorn- year

Klik- minute

Set's of periods... ... ... Are flashback sequences.

White emptiness surrounded him as the sensations crept back. The first one he felt was the coldness. Not just temperature wise of the snow covered planet, but the vastness of how empty he had became from loosing everything. He wanted it gone, but not exactly like this. The second sensation that returned to the blue mech was pain. His broken body ached from the crash of the fall as well as his forearms, which also had a tingling sensation. But worst of all, his spark ached as he laid at the bottom of a crevasse, alone and forgotten.

Groaning, Pharma lifted his helm slightly and lifted his hands to rub his face. His optics widened in shock as he realized why his arms hurt; his hands had been sliced off. That's right. Now he remembered clinging to the edge of the flight deck, barely able to hang on and begging for help. The next thing he knew, a sword severed his limbs and sent him falling. Unable to transform-there was no way he was going to activate the virus- the blue medic had no choice but just let himself fall.

How could Ratchet do this to him? He had just let him fall to his probable death-for if the fall didn't kill him, sooner or later the elements would or the lack of medical treatment would. Letting out a painful sigh, Pharma flopped his head back on the ground and looked up to the sky. How he wished he could be flying through those puffy white clouds instead of trapped on the snow covered ground with his body aching in pain. Pharma clenched his optics closed as the pain proved to be too much, and lapsed back offline with only his memories of his past to keep him company.

... ... ... ...

As soon as the door swished open, Pharma raced into the room and tossed his luggage at the foot of his berth. "Thank Primus that is over with!" The blue jet exclaimed and flopped himself down on his berth. His room mate, who was working on writing up a report on a pod, swiveled his chair around at the loud entrance the other made.

"Tough time with the family?" Ratchet asked, ready to hear the long winded rant Pharma was know to give.

"Oh, it was excruciating! As always!" Pharma said as he sat up on his berth and reached for the dorm mini fridge. He grabbed himself a can of high grade and cracked the tab open. He half heartily offered it to Ratchet,who naturally denied it. "Suit yourself," Pharma shrugged and gulped the contents down til the can was empty.

"Take it easy," Ratchet said shaking his head. He knew his room mate had issues with his family and didn't blame him for wanting a stiff drink. However, he had a major report to write, and when Pharma got overcharged, staying focused on his work was very hard. "So, what happened this time?"

"Ehhh! My brothers," Pharma threw his hands up. "The youngest decided to join the military, and of course my carriers think that's the best thing in the world to do. You know, they gave me such a hard time with the fact I didn't want to join. And of course, my carriers ogled and pretty much rubbed it in my face that I chose not to go into the military."

"Did you show them the honors you received with high marks?" Ratchet asked.

"Yup," Pharma replied as he grabbed another cold drink. "Pretty much shrugged it off, claiming I could have been better." He looked down at his pedes. "Maybe I could have,"

"Don't say that You worked very hard your entire last semester and did great," Ratchet said. He truly felt bad for Pharma. He met his carriers once, and it was enough to make his plating crawl. They treated their son so poorly, verbally degrading him at any chance and pretty much allowed the sibling rivalry by doing nothing about it. In fact, Ratchet was confident they encouraged it by doing the same thing to Pharma. "Look, you'll become a great medic, Pharma. Don't let your family discourage you."

"Why don't you like the things Axl likes," Pharma said in his best imitation of his carriers. "Why don't you act like Crowbar." Pharma waved his hands around and scrunched up his face while holding his optics open wide in such a comical manner it caused Ratchet to bust out laughing. Pharma soon joined in.

"Come on," Ratchet said catching his breath. "You'll be just fine in your field."

"Glad you think so," Pharma said as he took a big swig of the energon. "Wish my family had a bit more faith in me. But I'll prove them wrong."

"If they don't see your abilities- your passion- for the medical field, then they are stupid," Ratchet spoke. "Or blind. You are a smart, fast thinker, who just has a knack for solving problems. I am envious of your work with virus's and treatments."

"Well, we can't all be as good as me, Ratch." Pharma said grinning. "What else am I great at?"

"Distracting me from my report," Ratchet said.

"That's not due til at least,what, seven more orns?" Pharma questioned.

"So?" Ratchet retorted. "Just making sure it's done and done right."

"Come on, you can take a break from that," Pharma said. "Can't you?"

Ratchet let out a sigh. "Why? What do you have planned, Pharma?"

"I'm hungry, and got that gift credits to the Idling Engine." Pharma said. "Wanna come with me?"

"Ahh, to your favorite pub, I see." Ratchet replied.

"Doesn't mean you have to drink," Pharma shrugged. "You can be a stick in the mud if you want."

Ratchet gave him a stern look and swiveled around in his chair. "Just because I don't like getting overcharged to the point of puking my processor out, doesn't mean I am boring." He pressed a few buttons on the data pad, then shut it off. "But I won't pass up a free meal, especially on your expense."

Pharma smirked and crossed his arms. "I see. Well, I never said I was gonna let you use my free credits, now did I?" The blue jet only managed to hold face for a few seconds before a wide grin appeared on his face as he giggled. "Come on Ratch, let's go."

When the two returned from the night out, Ratchet had his arms around Pharma as he helped his overcharged room mate into the room. The blue mech babbled incoherently, clumsily flailing his arms around in his stupor. Ratchet laughed and did his best to place the bot gently in the berth, and tried to convince him to stay there. It was proving hard. Pharma wanted to stay awake, claiming he wasn't that overcharged. He sat up on his berth, swaying side to side as he tried to hold a conversation.

"SCHhlooo, vwheth ouuu ink ahhboyut dat phhem hha?" Pharma sat on the edge of his berth, optics unfocused and a huge grin on his face. He clearly was expecting a response.

"Yeah, Pharma." Ratchet replied, sitting himself at his room mate's desk adjacent from his drunk friend. Pharma's face looked confused.

"Dhat mahykes nooh scensh." Pharma replied and Ratchet held up his hands and shrugged.

Pharma babbled on with Ratchet not understanding a word of it as he dug around for a waste basket hoping his room mate would pass out soon. Pharma had consumed a ridiculous amount of high grade and when he got this drunk, he was always so silly. Luckily this didn't happen very often, but when it did, Pharma became very dramatic.

And silent. Which wasn't a good thing. Ratchet scrambled for the trash bin and spun around a few seconds too late. Pharma had already purged his tank all over himself. "Scrap!" Ratchet shouted as he thrust the bin on the jet's lap and pulled the sick mech forward. The red and white mech grimaced as Pharma threw up a few times into the trash can.

"You done?" Ratchet asked, and Pharma nodded with a pout on his face. The sober bot placed the bin next to the berth. "Lay back." Pharma did as he was told, whimpering when he discovered he hurled on himself. "Just stay here for me, OK?"

Ratchet retrieved a cloth and a wash pan from his medical kit, and filled it with warm solvent. Upon returning to the flier, Pharma's cheeks where red and wet. He had began to cry, and slurred out that he was sorry. Ratchet shushed him, and wiped at the other's mouth, then cleaned up his chest and cockpit. Pharma let him, incredibly thankful for his help, but embarrassed.

"There. All done." Ratchet said. Pharma muttered out a slurred thanks as he clutched at his belly and groaned. "Want me to empty your tank?" Pharma bit his lip, and nodded. "OK. Lay down." Ratchet said and gently guided the blue bot down to lay on his back.

As Pharma laid there, even in his in drunken state, he realized this was the first time he realized he had a crush on his friend.

... ... ... ...

Pharma groaned and turned his head to purge his tanks on the snow. This time, he was alone. Ratchet was not there to tend to his illness, nor anyone else. Tears welled in his optics as the broken mech dwelt on his past memories. Ratchet changed so much over the years. The tears spilled down his face as he closed his optics, hoping for his pain to lessen. It didn't. It never did.