***Yup, no idea what I'm doin'. Bunnies have complete and total control. That is all.***
TALK KEY: Normal, ::cybertronian::, emphasized, thoughts, *comm. line*, //bond//
-In the Med Bay
*Clink*
*Clonk*
*Clink*
*Clonk*
Ratchet's right optic ridge twitched as he attempted to ignore the sound echoing from the med bay proper and into his office.
*Clink*
*Clonk*
I'm going to kill him.
*Clink*
It will be slow.
*Clonk*
And it will be painful.
*Clink*
Ratchet tensed awaiting the other sound. After a few moments of blessed silence he sighed in relief and returned to his datapad.
*Clonk*
That does it! Slamming his datapad down on the desk, Ratchet stood and stormed out of his office. "Jazz! If you don't stop that infernal noise I will be forced to undo all the hard work I've done bringing you back to life!" Said mech turned to look at him from where he'd been sitting propped up on his repair berth. Ratchet narrowed his optics at the uncharacteristic look of concern on the Autobot's Head of Special Ops face plates. "What?"
"It don't sound right."
Ratchet took a deep breath through his intakes in an attempt to reign in his temper. "What, exactly, doesn't sound right Jazz?"
"Watch." Jazz flicked a claw against his abdominal plating just above the large weld scar that encircled him. *Clink* He moved his hand lower and flicked again this time below the weld line. *Clonk* "See? Pitch's different. What's up with that?"
Ratchet folded his arms across his chest to keep from strangling his patient. "The Allspark shard we used on you was not strong enough to fix everything."
"Yeah, and?"
"It sounds different because your lower half is still in need of repair. The parts that sound different have suffered structural damage and severe energon loss. As soon as Wheeljack is finished fabricating the new parts I will replace…"
"Whoa! Hold up there Doc. Exactly what hardware below the belt you plannin' on replacin'?"
"Damaged hardware."
Jazz squirmed around a bit on the repair berth. "This ain't cool Ratch. How you gonna tell a mech somethin' like that an then leave em hangin'…"
"Oh calm down. You're acting like a sparkling."
"No way I'm calmin' down! Yer talkin' 'bout a bot's mech hood here! You just don't do that!"
Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nasal plates in a borrowed human gesture. "No one is going to be placing your 'mech hood', such as it is, at risk Jazz."
"Promise?"
"Yes, fine, I promise." Jazz stared at him for a moment then relaxed back into his repair berth. Ratchet shook his head and stepped up to the machines monitoring Jazz's systems. "Might as well run a few checks while you've got me out here."
"Do what you gotta do Doc."
Ratchet frowned at the change of tone in the smaller mech's vocals. It was unnerving seeing the usually upbeat saboteur so easily unsettled. It wasn't just the concept of needing more repairs that had done it; Jazz just hadn't been Jazz since he'd onlined a week ago. His moods changed between melancholy to cheerful on a whim. Guess I can't blame him. No one's ever been brought back from this kind of damage before. Who knows what he's been through, what he's seen, what he felt… what he's still feeling.
___________________________________________________________________________
Prowl stepped into the med bay and froze as his optics swept across Ratchet standing beside Jazz's supine form. His door wings drooped slightly then forced himself further into the large room. "Ratchet. Jazz." He nodded in greeting to each mech as he stopped beside Jazz's repair berth.
Ratchet returned the nod while maintaining his attention on a suddenly very tense Jazz. "Prowl. What can I do for you?"
Prowl jerked his optics away from Jazz and focused on the larger yellow mech. "When you are not busy I was wondering if you could perform a check on my… my panels."
Ratchet raised an optic ridge at the obvious skip in the SIC's request. He'd lost count of the number of times Prowl had visited the med bay in the last week; always with some small mundane complaint. Of course these issues were always blamed on his rough planet fall… over a month ago. "What is wrong with them?"
"Hyper sensitivity. There seems to be excessive movement in the joints on a subconscious level."
Translation? Your door wings are twitchy. "I see. I will be finished with Jazz's checks in a few minutes if you want to wait on a repair berth."
Prowl nodded in affirmation and walked over to a nearby berth. He perched on the edge and watched the CMO hover over an uncharacteristically quiet Jazz. His door wings fluttered nervously as Ratchet moved onto performing a basic check of Jazz's motor skills. He frowned noting the saboteur's normally graceful and fluid movements appeared to be slow and somewhat jerky; especially in the lower legs and peds. He sat up straight and averted his gaze when the medic suddenly turned and made his way over to Prowl's berth.
"Alright, extend the panels so I can get a better look at the joints."
Prowl flared his door wings as requested and winced as the other mech's fingers began to poke and prod the sensitive joints.
"It's ok to visit him you know."
Prowl's hands gripped the edge of the repair berth tightly at Ratchet's whispered comment. "Pardon?"
"I said it's ok to visit him. I know he'd like it. You don't need to make excuses to stop by here."
Prowl glanced over his shoulder meeting Ratchet's optics. "I am not sure I understand what you are…"
"Oh grow up and upgrade Prowl!" Ratchet whispered fiercely. "He needs you right now!" Ratchet dimmed his optics and softened his tone. "And from I can tell, you need him too." Prowl's expression sank, unfortunately so did his door wings. Ratchet yelped as the motion pinched his fingers inside the joints connecting Prowl's panels to his back. He yanked his hand free and shoved the tactician off the repair berth. "Your panels are fine! If they appear a little twitchier then normal it's probably due to stress! Can't imagine why! Now unless you have a real injury that requires my attention…" Ratchet tossed a significant glance towards Jazz and lowered his vocals, "…or are here to visit a friend, get out of my med bay."
Prowl watched as Ratchet walked back to his office grumbling while examining his hand and winced as the office door slammed shut behind the medic. He turned to look at Jazz and found the silver mech silently staring back at him. Squaring his shoulders as if about to take on the entire Decepticon Army, Prowl walked over to Jazz's berth. He stopped next to the berth and schooled his features into a neutral expression. "How are you feeling?"
Jazz shrugged and met Prowl's neutral expression with one of his own. "Ready for round two with Megatron… if the mech was still functioning that is. How's the wings?"
Prowl winced internally at Jazz's question about the fictional injury. "According to Ratchet my panels' are responding to heightened levels of stress."
"Uh huh, what 'bout the left ped?"
Prowl blinked in confusion before he realized that Jazz was referring to the last excuse. Unaware that Jazz had known about his reason for visiting the med bay the day before he was unprepared to respond and quickly tried coming up with an acceptable response.
"And yer audios; you came in to get those checked too right? And the hip strut? And… shall I continue?"
Prowl leaned back as Jazz pushed himself up further with each question. "Jazz I…"
"What Prowl? What?"
"Jazz, your welds." Prowl's hand shot out landing on the other mech's chest halting the forward movement. He stared at his hand in shock feeling Jazz's spark pulse strongly beneath his palm. Clawed fingers slowly encircled his wrist and held his hand in place. Prowl raised his optics and felt his own spark pulse against it's casing when Jazz slid his visor up revealing his own optics.
"It ain't the welds that are hurtin' Prowl."
Prowl's processor slowed to a halt and he found himself unable to look away from Jazz's optics. After several minutes of silence he gently increased the pressure on the other mech's chest gently pushing him back onto his berth. He leaned in closely then stopped with a pained grimace with their faces mere inches apart. "As I've stated before, I cannot bear seeing you like this; but I am not sure if I know how or am capable of stopping this kind of pain."
Jazz felt like his world was being torn in half for a second time as Prowl suddenly stood back up pulling his hand free of his chest in the process. He started to sit up and raised a hand to reach for the other mech but froze as Prowl shook his head and took a step back.
"I will find a way to make the pain stop Jazz. This is my promise to you."
Without another word, Prowl spun around and quickly departed the med bay leaving Jazz to fall back onto his berth with a heavy sigh. "Primus, if you've brought me back just to torture me… you an me, we're gonna have issues."
