The medic wasn't able to stay under for too long, the annoying sound of the cherry red medic luring him out of his happy realm of dreaming with a scowl. Ratchet was about to tell him off, but remembered, he had no voice to do so. A mute grumble as he reached up with a servo, only to realize he was strapped in again.
Knock Out looked over and pulled out the tubes and deactivated the bindings. "Sorry about that, doctor, but I didn't want to risk you ripping them out." He said as he leaned back on the stool he was on, a data-pad expertly balanced on his lap.
Well, I don't care about that, tell me about the transfer, did it work? He seemed to ask as he quirked an optical ridge at the other. Knock Out rolled his optics with a grumble before he lifted up the container and set it on the table Ratchet was on.
"This is the output." He said, tapping his digits along the side of the container, watching as Ratchet let out a breath of relief. Thank Primus! He was cured!
"But," Knock Out started, reaching to pull up the second container, putting it on the table next to the other. Ratchet's spark sank.
The container was the same as the output. "This is the input. It cycled out, but it tainted all the good Energon. So, medically speaking, your stage of Dark Energon was able to corrupt the clean and fresh. The moment I started the transfusion, it quickly tainted the input."
Watching Ratchet sag and cover his face with a servo was supposed to feel like a victory, but he just shook his helm and sighed. "I'm sorry, Ratchet. There's nothing I can do. You're going to either have to let it pass on its own, which is I don't even know how, or you'll have to live with it for the rest of your life."
To which Ratchet was quick to object with a slam of his fist on the table, making Knock Out jump. There's no way in the PITS I'm going to live with this! I can't go back like this! Sure, they might understand, but they'll remember me as the idiot who couldn't even defend himself and asked the Leader of the Decepticons to save his life!
Ratchet was having a conflicting battle of emotions and the like within himself, making him chew his inner cheek and lips, making them bleed.
Knock Out dropped a rag onto his face, startling the other out of his thoughts as he sat up slightly on an elbow, pulling the rag away and glaring at the other. But instead of scowling, he noticed, Knock Out was actually tired. He was up all night? That wasn't like Knock Out, not at all.
"I'll inform Lord Megatron of the failed procedure. Then I'll see if I can study this and see what it is that's mutating it and making it infect so quickly. I'm really sorry, Ratchet." He said as he rubbed at his helm before he took a container and hauled it to the lab table, setting it there and returning for the second one. Before the other turned away with the container, Ratchet couldn't stop himself from reaching out and resting a servo on his shoulder.
Thank you for at least trying, Knock Out. He seemed to say with a small smile, which threw the Decepticon CMO off as he blinked at him. He nearly even dropped the container of tainted Energon.
"I… I u-uh… You're welcome, Ratchet." He said as he smiled back. Ratchet had to admit; even though he had a problem with bringing pain and Energon-shed to those he was 'fixing' and having uncontrollable urges to rip things apart that didn't need to be taken apart, he was alright.
Well, as long as he was somewhat sane. He didn't know how much longer he would be, having just lost his partner of how many ever sols.
"Get some more rest, you weren't out long. About an hour at the most." He said as he tapped his digits on the side of the glass, slowly moving away and returning to set it next to the other on the lab table. At least they had a good supply of samples.
Ratchet sat up fully and frowned, waving a servo to get his attention, since speaking was not an option. Knock Out tilted his helm, "Yes?"
Can I at least have something to ingest? Or, a more private location to recharge? He wanted to say, but he just shook his helm before he waved his servo again when Knock Out looked away, causing him to look back and quirk an optical ridge. "Yes, Ratchet, what is it?"
Ratchet made a few servo motions- both servos together and pressed to his cheek. And then making a grabbing motion and pulling up to his chassis. Knock Out took a moment, not really a person to play or understand charades, but he snapped his digits.
"Pillow and blanket?" He asked, making Ratchet nod vigorously. Yes! Maybe this won't be so hard after all! Ratchet had thought to himself as he smiled in mute victory. At least Knock Out was blessed with not having to hear his screeching voice whenever he broke or did something he didn't approve of. But he could always substitute it with body language and facial expressions.
"Simple enough. Would you rather have a room to sleep in? You can use mine, I never sleep in it." He said with a shrug. Ratchet looked at him slack jawed, was he really just giving up his room? That was entirely unlike Knock Out, he was a selfish and greedy mecha, yet here he was. Giving him his room. All for Ratchet.
He puffed out his chassis, now we're talking! He thought to himself, grinning and nodding, that's right, show an old mecha some respect! I've been on the field far longer than you have.
But, then again, as his chassis deflated as he watched Knock Out rub at his optics and nod, waving a servo for him to follow him, he felt guilty.
He must not sleep in there anymore because he's afraid to. He could understand what it was like to lose someone so close to you, only to toss and turn in a nightmare where their face never left you. Ratchet slipped off the berth, catching himself on the edge of the berth and putting a servo to his helm as he grimaced. Primus what was this helmache? It was unbearable!
Ratchet grit his dentals when the pain flared the moment he took a step, putting a servo to his tank and sinking to a knee. Knock Out was at his side in a spark-beat, a servo to his shoulder, asking him questions, lightly shaking his shoulder to get his attention.
But he had no voice, and Knock Out was looking scared and concerned. Concerned. That never looked good on that psychopath's faceplates. He never was concerned.
Ratchet was staring at the other with hardly a emotion, his optics slightly twitching as he stared at Knock Out, who waved his servo in front of him.
"Ratchet! Ratchet can you hear me? Hey! Snap out of it!" The voice of the Decepticon CMO came back to his audials and he shook his helm, rubbing his helm and groaning.
"What the hell was that? You looked like everything just left you! Are you OK?" He asked as he moved to press his cheek against the others fore helm, brows knit in concentration. Ratchet was frozen as the other was this close to him. He wasn't used to it and wasn't going to get used to it.
"You have a slight fever." He said as he pulled away, Ratchet released his in-take. But shortly he frowned, looking at Knock Out. All sign of pain was gone; the helmache was almost like a trick of the body. Rubbing his helm, Ratchet moved to stand, making Knock Out quickly grip his arm to steady him.
"Let's get you to the berth and I'll find some blankets for you. I'll have to check your temperature every hour to make sure you don't overheat. What the hell happened, Ratchet?" This was very unlike Knock Out to be this concerned; it almost made Ratchet very, very uncomfortable.
Regardless, Ratchet nodded and allowed the other to lead him to the other end of the Bay towards a door. He never noticed the door before, maybe because it was meant to be out of sight and hidden. Helping the Autobot CMO inside the small room, Knock Out got him settled before he went off to find the blankets and pillows.
When he returned, he found Ratchet fast asleep, curled up slightly. Knock Out studied him for a moment before he put the pillows on the berth within his reach and a blanket over the other and the rest next to the pillows.
"What the hell happened, Ratchet…?" He asked again quietly before leaving the room and leaving Ratchet in complete darkness.