My apologies for those of you who were hoping for some Wheeljack (Makeshift)-Switchshade interactions in this chapter-rest assured there will be plenty upcoming. I was tempted to just have Switchshade magically all healed up by now as the rest of them seem to be, but it just doesn't seem realistic enough, when considering the level of damage he was at after the scraplets. So, I'm giving him a bit more recovery time, although it's still pretty accelerated, for a couple reasons. 1, as I just said, I want it to seem just slightly more realistic, and more importantly, 2, Switchshade was raised by Soundwave, a Spymaster who is a master at keeping secrets and telling lies, although his deepest and truest loyalty is always to Megatron. Considering that it is very likely that Switchshade has worked at least once with Makeshift in the past, that the Decepticons (and thereby Makeshift) know that Switchshade is with the Autobots and is a traitor, and that Switchshade has been taught to seek out the tiniest of hints and nuances of if something is just a bit 'off', that he'd likely recognize Makeshift rather quickly. Having him still recovering, therefore, can delay that just a bit, and allow the plot to go on. So, ridiculously long note over, please enjoy! I am, as ever, most grateful for all feedback!
An unsettling silence fell over the room, and despite his typical habit of avoiding direct optic contact with Ratchet or Lord Prime for longer than an astroclick, Switchshade found he didn't dare to break the medic's quietly furious gaze. Neither mech was willing to speak first, it seemed, but Switchshade had been raised by Soundwave, so if a quiet contest was to commence, the black mech had little doubt he would see victory, though it would likely be to his detriment. Kliks passed, and each felt like a joor, but Switchshade kept his vocalizer offlined, watching Ratchet quietly, careful to keep any hint of a challenge from his optics. The medic, in both field and faceplates showed anger, annoyance, and then resignation in succession. Finally, Ratchet broke.
"Switchshade."
The mech in question inclined his head, carefully making no noise whatsoever.
"I'll admit it, I'm not as young as I used to be, but my memory files have yet to fail me. So tell me, Switchshade, how you remember my orders? Because, if I recall correctly, I told you to 'rest, and heal'. How is sneaking out of my medbay and walking around on only just healed pedes and an extremely fragile frame going to assist you in 'resting' and 'healing'?"
The black mech dropped his optics finally, the clear annoyance in the medic's optics not half as unsettling as the fact that it was just as clearly sparked by concern. For him. "I-I do not wish you to think me ungrateful, Ratchet. Truly, I am the very opposite. I am in your debt for all you have done to aid me, and I could not have stood a chance at surviving if it were anymech but you that I was brought to after the scraplets. I went into that knowing- expecting to die, and you pulled off the miraculous by not only saving my life, but repairing me to the point that I will be able to make a full recovery with time-"
"With time! Time spent in the medbay, under observation, where you can rest undisturbed and I can have monitors on your vitals and your progress so that I can do everything in my power to make sure that you do make a full recovery."
"I understand. But, please, I do not wish to be a burden. I have already used up a great deal of valuable medical supplies that could be better served in use for Lord Prime or Cliffjumper or Arcee or any of the others rather than me. There are many battles fought, and with only the six of you here on earth, there are bound to be many injuries quite frequently. If they are to remain injuries only, and not lasting casualties, then your medical supplies will be needed for the valuable-"
A sudden, sharp spike of utter rage suddenly surged into Ratchet's field, and Switchshade felt his newfound courage melting away like ice under the hot Nevada sun. He quickly cut himself off and ducked his helm still lower, not daring to look up again, wondering what could have set the medic off so badly. Surely he was already aware of the waste of medical supplies that had occurred? Pit, he had tended to Switchshade himself, had saved his life, surely he already knew what had been used?
"Please. Please tell me that you were not about to say that my medical supplies should only be used on the valuable members of this team. Because By The Allspark-"
The small door to Switchshade's room opened again, and Bumblebee peeked in, his clever blue optics widening in surprise at Ratchet's field and Switchshade's posture. ::Sorry to interrupt, Doc, but we have a bit of a problem with the groundbridge:: the yellow scout whirred, subtly drawing attention to himself, for which Switchshade was inordinately grateful. Ratchet shook his helm, looking back at Switchshade sternly as he moved to follow Bumblebee. "Don't think this is over, kid. For now, since it seems I can't turn my back on you in the medbay, I suppose I can allow you to stay here. But for that to happen, you need to stay here. No more wandering around until I can get another look at your pedes, make sure all the joints and circuits are connecting as they should be. Until then, you need to stay off them-that means no more sneaking around. Rest, and heal. Understood?"
Switchshade nodded rapidly, a sudden feeling of warmth blossoming in his chassis as he realized that Ratchet had told him the truth. Despite his clear rage and displeasure, not even a dent had been added to his armor. The Autobots truly didn't utilize corporal punishment, at least not for minor infractions. The black mech didn't think he could feel any more joyful at the confirmation of Ratchet's honesty, and then Bumblebee began to close the door as Ratchet took the lead down the hall, the scout tossing Switchshade a friendly wink as he left. The tiny smile on Switchshade's faceplates widened.
Switchshade cycled his optics. Slowly opened and closed his servos, flexed his pedes. Wriggled his hip plating. Cycled his optics again. Heaved an in-vent, and then a heavy ex-vent, and looked up at the smooth grey ceiling of his room. Time to face the facts, 'Shade. You're bored. The black mech smirked at the stray thought, even as he decided to tune in his audials to pick up what was happening in the main room. Despite his intention to follow Ratchet's order to the letter this time (he feared inciting the medic's wrath twice in one solar cycle), there had been no command to actually recharge, only rest. Switchshade had considered recharge, but unless he forcibly shut down his frame, he knew any other attempts would be futile. Now, though, remaining prone on his berth, there was little else to do that would keep the CMO pacified, and so Switchshade turned to the age-old tradition of eavesdropping, in hope that something interesting might be happening with the Autobots' most recent visitor.
At first, nothing but the sound of Bulkhead's heavy pedes pacing in excitement reached him, and then the Wrecker's voice, "You're gonna love Wheeljack. We were like brothers! And tonight, we are gonna party!" Miko, presumably who the green mech had been speaking to, almost immediately exclaimed, "Sweet!", and her enthusiasm caused Switchshade to grin again. Clearly, having the wayward Wrecker come to visit was a source of excitement for more than just Bulkhead, and despite his own personal misgivings, Switchshade was glad that the green mech would be able to connect with a close friend from his past.
However, the air of excitement was short-lived, for no sooner had Miko finished her cry of joy, than the alarms of the base went off, and Switchshade was already half-way to his pedes before he remembered the threat in Ratchet's optics, and settled back down. Still, he kept his audial receptors tuned in high, despite the discomfort, to hear everything that was happening in the common area. If his help was needed, even simply to provide a shield for the humans, then Switchshade knew he would need to be moving soon, and fast.
"Bogeys. Closing fast on Wheeljack's position." Arcee's voice was quiet, but full of vicious intent, and Switchshade was suddenly, exceedingly grateful that he was not among those at whom her rage was intended. Bulkhead was even less subtle, instantly joining in with, " 'Con scum! Open the 'bridge Ratchet, we're missing all the action!"
The sound of the groundbridge starting up came then, and Ratchet's steady promise, "I'll prepare sickbay" was met with a chuckle from Bulkhead, as he asked, "Who for, the 'Cons? This is Wheeljack we're talking about." The sound of running pedes, and then three of the 'bots were gone. Switchshade twisted, trying to tune in farther, but he could hear nothing but silence aside from the constant hum of the online groundbridge. Three steady sparkbeats still remained in the base, although Switchshade couldn't identify to whom they belonged without some guesswork.
He didn't have long to wonder, however, for not even five kliks later, four mechs returned through the groundbridge. The Autobots were back, with Wheeljack in tow. Their mission had been a success. Switchshade ex-vented in relief, settling back down against his berth again, and looking up at the ceiling once more, although he kept an audial on the common room. He could hear Bulkhead introducing the other Wrecker to Miko, and there should have been nothing wrong with that moment. There was nothing wrong with that moment, except…
Something is wrong… with Wheeljack's vocalizer. What… It's- familiar. But I've never met this Wrecker before, in battle or elsewhere, and all audial files of him sound just like he does now, but-there's something else. There's something wrong.