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Guest: They do be thinking. We'll just have to wait and see what they decide, eh? ;P Thank you! I will do my best!
Enjoy the chapter everyone!
Chapter 21: A Day in Medbay
I grumbled slightly as I came to, sensing a presence next to the bed I was laying on. An unfamiliar one. It confused me. Even on the Nemesis I had grown familiar with the presence of those who would interrogate me or make an appearance in Knock Out's medbay.
"You are awake." An equally unfamiliar voice said.
My optics shot open to be met by unfamiliar blue ones staring down at me. Said optics were framed by a white helm that had small gold accents. A quick perusal revealed a damaged Decepticon insignia on the mech's chest plate.
"Hasn't anyone told you it's creepy to stare at a sleeping femme?" I asked, raising an optic ridge as I reminded myself this was Ratchet's medbay, not Knock Out's.
"My apologies," the mech said, taking a step back as I sat up painfully. "You were mumbling in your recharge and I wasn't sure if I should wake you."
"Nothing sensitive, I hope," I shuddered a bit at the knowledge that I still sometimes did that. I had been told mixed information about whether I talked in my sleep or not. I rubbed at my forehead, closing my optics.
"Nothing I could make out," the mech said with a frown.
"Good, good," I sighed heavily, systems giving a whine.
"You are in pain," he observed.
"Yes," I admitted. "My helm is killing me. And my side. Where's Ratchet?" I was having trouble staying concentrated on the conversation past the pain.
"He had to step out," the mech said, looking away for a moment. "Should I go get him?"
"Are you even cleared to leave medbay? No, no," I answered for myself, cringing as I shifted. "I can see that you are still healing and given your insignia you are likely on probation, if not house arrest. It is not bad enough to risk you getting in trouble over. I do not know what kind of restrictions you have right now. I don't really know the protocol for ex-Cons." I shifted and cringed. "Just-ow-just talk while we wait. It helps a little bit…to keep the mind off the pain."
"You already know I left the 'Cons," he observed.
I peered at him and looked him over more thoroughly. I did, in fact, recognize him, even if his paint job was different—prechange from Deadlock to Drift. But I knew him mostly from a comic that took place after the war. So really, I couldn't say I knew from that. Plus, I didn't know if I could trust him with the knowledge that I knew things yet.
"Your insignia," I pointed to his chest. "Looks like you tried to pry it off. Decepticons affix it a little more permanently, huh?"
The mech reached up and touched it, looking a little self-conscious. "You…could say that," he said. "Ironhide has offered to make me new armor, so I can be rid of it. And my spark casing repaired."
"Good mech, Ironhide," I said, smiling, though the pain in my helm prevented me from fully making sense of his mention of his spark casing. "He will make you good armor. I mean, I haven't had Ironhide made armor yet myself, but I hear it's the best. I, uh, might have to ask him for some myself."
The mech looked to my side as I did so myself and he winced in sympathy at my mangled armor where Megatron had punched a hole in me.
"I'm Shadebreaker, by the way," I introduced myself, reaching out a hand to him.
The mech stared at my hand. "Drift."
I raised an optic ridge. "Not one to shake hands?"
Drift reached out and took my hand uncertainly and I gave it a firm shake.
"It is good to meet you, Drift," I said. "Welcome to the world outside the Decepticons."
Drift smirked lightly at that. "I am not sure you would say that if you knew how many Autobots I have killed."
"That was when you were a 'Con," I said, tightening my grip on his hand a bit. "You have left them. This is a new day. A new start. And we just met. I will judge you from now on for myself. Whatever you did in the past, it will remain there. Unless you intend to repeat it."
"I do not," Drift said.
"There you go," I said, releasing his hand now. "If I was going to judge you because you are an ex-Con we wouldn't even be having this conversation. Especially given where I just came from."
"The Nemesis," Drift said, looking sympathetic. "The others didn't say, but they asked me for information that could help them track the Nemesis or otherwise locate a high-value prisoner. I regret that I didn't have a lot of helpful information for any that might be held aboard the Nemesis. I did tell them what I could, however."
"Do not fret," I said, holding a hand out, palm up. "Megatron did not leave a lot of opportunity for rescue or escape. It is his own disregard for his troops that even allowed me to use the very thing he is after me for to gain access to an opportunity."
"What do you mean?" Drift asked with a frown.
I grinned a little, optics sparkling in mischief. "Oh, you'll find out if you stick around," I said. "I can't go spilling my secrets to a mech I just met."
The door opened then and laughter rang out from Sideswipe as he, his brother and Bumblebee came in. I flinched as it made my helmache spike and I rubbed my forehelm, turning away from Drift to focus on relieving the pain as much as possible.
"Hey, Shade's awake!" Sideswipe said, grinning.
"And in pain! Keep it down!" I whined, rubbing at my temples.
"Sorry," Sideswipe said, a lot quieter. "Ratchet's not far behind us. He got waylaid by Optimus and Elita."
I sighed a bit as the group came over more quietly. I saw Sunstreaker give Drift a very unfriendly glare as the mech moved aside to make room. I was about to open my mouth to say something when the mech spoke himself.
"I am going to retire to my room," Drift said. "And give you space to catch up with your friends."
"You do that 'Con," Sunstreaker growled.
Drift bowed lightly and slipped away as I glared molten daggers at the yellow twin.
"What?" Sunstreaker asked after he was gone, scowling at me. "Don't tell me you buy into his 'I left the 'Cons' slag, too. He's clearly playing us."
"Maybe," I said. "But everyone deserves a chance to change. I will judge whether it's true or not by his actions, not whether I'm convinced by words. He has to have a chance for his actions to speak first."
Sunstreaker sneered, but he didn't seem to have a come back to that as he just looked away.
Bumblebee whirled in concern as I returned to rubbing my temples.
"I'm ok," I said quietly. "My helm is just killing me. And my side hurts. And my whole frame is sore. Whatever pain meds Ratchet has me on wore off before I woke up. Or my frame is resistant to them. Or something. It just hurts."
Bumblebee whirles softly, sympathetically.
"We can come back later," Sideswipe said quietly. "Ratchet warned us you might not be up to guests, so it's ok if you need us to go."
"I just need pain meds," I said, quietly, frame shuddering. "Once I have those and they kick in, it should be fine. I would like some company. I…don't want to be alone right now. Too many thoughts to be had alone."
"Yeah," Sideswipe said quietly. He hesitated, then carefully climbed onto the bed next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We can understand that."
I learned against him, feeling tears well up in my optics. I hadn't spent a lot of time with the twins outside missions yet, but I was open enough to them that his sympathetic motions now were enough to draw me in here.
Ratchet came in then, proving Sideswipe right that he was not far behind them. He came over immediately. "What's wrong?"
Bumblebee whirled softly, replying for me as I cried on Sideswipe's shoulder.
"Your systems must have built up a resistance to these pain meds from the last time you were on them," Ratchet sighed.
I whined at that. "They were the most effective then," I complained. "It wasn't even that long term."
"I know," Ratchet said, reaching out and rubbing my shoulder.
"And the others are needles," I complained.
"Yeah," Ratchet said.
"I don't like needles," I said, not caring how sad and pathetic I sounded at that moment.
"I know," Ratchet said gently, rubbing my shoulder.
Sideswipe snaked an arm around my waist and placed his other hand on my helm, rubbing it soothingly. My frame shuddered as I pressed into his hold, ignoring the awkwardness of the fact he was smaller than me. Our size difference mattered less while we sat on the bed like this.
"Shhh, we got you," Sideswipe said encouragingly.
My frame shuddered and I tried not to think about it as Ratchet removed my shoulder armor in order to give me the painkiller. I hissed when I felt the needle enter, clenching my fists.
"All done," Ratchet said after a moment and the needle was retracted. He rubbed the sight where he'd stuck me and then replaced my armor. "That should kick in soon. If not…"
"If not then I just deal with the pain until you formulate a new pain med that is effective for me," I said, grumbling a little.
"Hopefully I'll have one more effective before your frame decides to adapt to this one too," Ratchet said, rubbing my shoulder.
I reached out for his hand. "Don't forget to rest, too, Ratchet," I told him quietly. "I can hear the tired in your voice."
Bumblebee whirled in agreement.
Ratchet sighed. "You are the concern right now, femme," he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.
"Hm," I hummed.
Drift didn't really go to his assigned room when he left, but stood just outside the door to the hallway leading to the rooms. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall next to the door, his sharp hearing allowing him to eavesdrop on the conversation within. The bed Shadebreaker occupied wasn't terribly far from the door, after all.
Everyone deserves a chance.
That's what she told Sunstreaker. Even when she thought he wasn't there to hear her, she still defended him. He felt strangely touched by this strange femme's words. He winced in sympathy when he heard her whine and cry about her pain and needles. He could only imagine what the Decepticons aboard the Nemesis had put her through and none of what he imagined was good.
Once that subsided, he considered moving on. Surely Ratchet would come this way eventually and then he would be caught. But Ratchet's pedefalls took the medic the opposite direction when they moved, so Drift stayed and listened.
The twins, as Drift heard Shadebreaker call two of the mechs, and a third all kept her company for some time. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Bumblebee—he was not sure which ones were the twins, but he knew the angry yellow one was Sunstreaker and the one who spoke without words was Bumblebee so that left the red one to be Sideswipe.
The laughter was good to hear, if a bit foreign to Drift. Laughter was rare in his childhood home and non-existent in his life as a homeless bot before the war. Among the Decepticons, laughter was only heard in cruel and mocking tones.
This laughter lacked cruelty. It was light and friendly, brought on by lighthearted jokes. Including one he didn't quite understand involving Megatron. How could a femme fresh out from being tortured by the Decepticon leader find a joke involving him? Something about a video game.
"Seriously, though," Sideswipe's voice suddenly took on a serious tone and he realized in his confusion over the joke he had missed a different one. "You were sitting here, completely at ease with that mech. How? What do you know?"
Drift stilled himself completely, listening intently.
"I know what I know," Shadebreaker said cryptically. "Like I said, everyone deserves a chance. If you give Drift a chance, he will prove himself. Just…trust me on this."
Sunstreaker scoffed. "Not all your information has been accurate," he said.
Drift frowned at that. Information? Did Shadebreaker know something? About him?
"Obviously," Shadebreaker replied in a dry tone. "But it has not all been wrong either. Do not discount him. His actions will speak for him. Of this we can be certain. With or without my knowledge. And, no, I will not let my knowledge or my desire for him to be good blind me if he proves me wrong. I will not make that mistake twice."
Bumblebee whirled something about a Steadishift not being her fault.
"That's…that's not what I'm talking about, 'Bee," Shadebreaker said quietly, sadness in her tone. "But thanks. I appreciate it."
Bumblebee whirled something else, sounding concerned.
"No, I'll be ok," Shadebreaker assured. "I think I have it sorted. I will talk with someone if I need to, though. Don't worry."
"You better," Sideswipe said.
Drift frowned in thought, wondering. What kind of information did this Shadebreaker hold? Was that what Megatron had been after? Her information?
The door opening would've caught him off guard if he was a lesser mech. He was grateful it was Ratchet walking through and not Sunstreaker.
Ratchet saw him immediately and gave him an unimpressed, long-suffering look that said he did not approve of him standing there and eavesdropping. He motioned, clearly communicating for him to follow him.
Drift complied, walking with the medic down the halls. They were both silent, neither wanting the bots they left behind to know about his eavesdropping escapades.
"If I were you, Drift," Ratchet said dryly once they were out of hearing distance of the main room. "I would not make it a habit of eavesdropping around here. It is frowned upon."
"I apologize," Drift said, bowing his helm. "I won't do it again."
"See that you don't," Ratchet said firmly. "Especially don't let Sunstreaker catch you. He is unlikely to treat you kindly any time soon, if at all."
"He seems angry at my presence," Drift said, feeling disheartened. "I imagine many Autobots will feel that way. Sideswipe does not sound particularly pleased either. Shadebreaker sounds the only neutral, almost friendly, party."
"Almost friendly, huh?" Ratchet asked. "Take spark, then. If Shadebreaker is almost friendly, she will be friendly as long as you don't screw it up. And others will follow. Not everybot, but some."
Drift glanced at the medic as they walked. "She knows something about me."
"Does she now?" Ratchet asked, sounding somehow neither surprised nor unsurprised. "Did she tell you that?"
"She did not," Drift said. "It was something I overheard. When asked what she knows in regards to why she was relaxed in my presence. The others pointed out her information hasn't all been accurate."
Ratchet hummed at that. "If you stick around, you may find the answers you seek," he said. "Or, you may not." He shrugged.
"You are as cryptic as she is," Drift said.
"Good, that means I'm not sharing what is not mine to share," Ratchet said, stopping as they came to the door to the room he was working on the cylinder in. "Now, I have work to do. I suggest you go get some rest. And no more eavesdropping, I mean it. I understand you are curious, but even Shadebreaker has her limits on what she will tolerate. And you are a freshly deserted ex-Con. You don't need any new marks against you."
Drift bowed his helm. "I understand, Ratchet," he said softly. "I will endeavor not to do so again."
Ratchet nodded, seemingly satisfied with that. He paused. "How's your pain levels?"
"They are fine," Drift said, wondering if the medic worried if his frame was resistant to the pain meds in the same way Shadebreaker's was.
"Good," Ratchet said. "Let me know if that changes."
Drift bowed his helm and then watched as Ratchet disappeared into the room to bury himself in work. He wondered if the medic did anything besides work. He had heard the concern in Shadebreaker's voice when she'd told him to rest and knew it was warranted. As a mech who never left medbay right now, he had grown to notice the medic also rarely, if ever, left medbay. The only time he'd seen him leave was when he had returned with Shadebreaker. He knew some Decepticons like that in his time. They had all ended up dead at some point.
Ratchet was continuing to avoid the subject, he knew. The subject he knew they needed to talk about. Their feelings. Mutual feelings going by that note on the back of her photo in her room. Avoiding it by only interacting when it was medically needed. Avoiding it by continuing to throw himself into his work.
It wasn't the right time, he was telling himself. She'd just gotten back from being a Decepticon prisoner. She had enough going on without worrying about navigating the potential of opening herself up to a romantic relationship. He knew it was a hard subject for her with her lost fiancée, her lost family. She didn't need that right now.
Still, his spark ached to reach out to her and pull her close at this time where she was hurting. He was hesitant to do so, however. His guilt over seeing her note kept him away. He knew he needed to tell her. That he'd snooped while intending to straighten her room. She would notice someone had been in there eventually. Whether she would think anything of it, he didn't know. He hadn't moved anything else but her blanket and the photo and the photo he had replaced in the exact same spot, or close enough to it.
He sighed heavily as a beep alerted him to someone entering medbay. He looked at the security cam to see Prowl entering and hesitated as he watched him exchange words and the three mechs visiting with Shadebreaker left. After a moment, he turned the sound on so he could monitor. Prowl had a habit of being work focused and Shadebreaker did not need to be doing work right now.
"...you holding up?" Prowl was asking once the sound started.
Shadebreaker shrugged. "My system has developed a resistance to the effective pain meds," she said. "So the ones that work have only brought my pain down to a dull throb, but it's better than it was when I woke up, so that's something."
Ratchet frowned at this, making note to start work on a new formula sooner rather than later.
"I am sorry to hear that," Prowl frowned, wings making a sympathetic motion. "Ratchet is working on a new formula?"
"I think so," Shadebreaker said, shrugging. "If we can find one. My systems have been finicky since the start about pain meds. They work for stretches and then stop being as effective. Maybe after a few days our normal will work again. I can hope."
"Indeed," Prowl agreed.
There was a pause of silence and Ratchet almost switched the sound off before Prowl spoke again.
"Have you met Drift?" Prowl asked and Ratchet ground his denta.
Shadebreaker should be resting, not be interrogated for her information for security. While the question could be considered social, he knew Prowl well enough it was more about the security concern an ex-Con might pose.
"Yup," Shadebreaker replied. She hesitated. "It's…strange meeting a bot of whom most the information I have is from a story from after the war while we are still in the war…when he is first leaving the 'Cons."
"You believe he is genuine, then?" Prowl asked.
Shadebreaker nodded. "Time and actions will prove him out," she said. "But I have no reason to doubt at this time. I…see hints of that future mech when I look at him. Small, but they are there. I may be seeing what I want to see. I didn't get a lot of time with him before the mechs came barging in and I was in a lot of pain." She sighed and shook her helm. "He wants to be good, I think. That much I can tell."
"I see," Prowl said. "You will tell me if you see a cause for concern?"
"You know I will," Shadebreaker said, smiling a bit in reassurance. "But I don't think I'll need to. Except maybe to express concern that Sunstreaker might beat him up. Mech is rather hostile regarding our resident ex-Con."
"Not without reason," Prowl said, shifting on his pedes. "I will monitor, however. Sunstreaker is known to haze ex-Cons and show hostilities toward them."
Shadebreaker gave Prowl a look. "Only haze, Prowl? Only haze?"
Prowl shifted a doorwing. "Your concerns are founded," he said. "I will monitor and act if he takes any undue action against Drift."
"Any action against him is undue, isn't it?" Shadebreaker asked. She bowed her helm, looking up at him as her wings shifted.
Ratchet couldn't help the smirk. Not many bots had the gears to challenge Prowl. Not many bots could challenge Prowl. Seeing her risk her life to protect Optimus had earned her the SIC's respect, that was evident.
"While you are not wrong," Prowl said. "The nature of the action would dictate the response. Verbal hazing, for example, may not call for as harsh of a punishment as a beating would."
Shadebreaker's wings shifted again. "I can see that," she said, tone relaxing.
"You are rather defensive of him already," Prowl observed.
"I know what it's like to feel like nothing you do matters for how bots see you," Shadebreaker said quietly.
Prowl was silent for a long pause as he waited for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he held a hand out, palm up. "I am sorry that you do."
Shadebreaker shrugged. "It is not your fault. Thank you, though."
"You are welcome," Prowl said.
Prowl lingered only a little longer, enough to say goodbyes and wish Shadebreaker a speedy recovery.
Ratchet sighed, turning the sound back off as the conversation ended. If the mech had asked her one more question that could be work related he'd been ready to march in there and send him away himself. Honestly, the mech could stand to socialize past work more.
Still, though, given the fact Shadebreaker was readily settling down to sleep, it was good he'd left. Shadebreaker looked tired from her socializing. She'd need some energon next she woke, but for now Ratchet would let her sleep.
I sighed as I stared up at the ceiling of the medbay main room, thinking. It had been a long day of scans and visits from my fellow bots. It was a mixed bag as far as I was concerned. Most of the conversations were pleasant. The only unpleasant parts were when the topic strayed to Drift, with some of them.
"I don't see how you can trust him."
"Once a 'Con, always a 'Con."
"I don't know about him, but I trust you. That being said, be careful. I don't want to see you more hurt."
Bulkhead, the twins, Chromia and Arcee were the main doubters. Or at least the ones who had voiced their concerns to me. Sunstreaker was the most hostile, but the others didn't exactly keep it hidden either. Sideswipe didn't trust him either, of course, but he at least seemed a little more open to giving him a chance.
I knew, of course, others had their own doubts, even if we didn't talk about it. I was willing to bet that Prowl had doubts even after our brief conversation. And that the others had their guards up despite not being openly wary about him. I understood where they were coming from. They didn't have the benefit of the knowledge I held in my helm. Plus, my knowledge had not all been accurate.
Except it had all been accurate when it came to the personality of bots. For the most part. Wheeljack was a small exception. A very small one. And only that he seemed more like himself from a reality separate from the one I was expecting his personality from.
Drift was thus far an undetermined factor in that determination. I didn't really know much about the Decepticon side of Drift or the Drift just starting out on the path of change. I knew the Drift who had been an Autobot already for years. Optimistic and spiritual, grating on Ratchet's nerves and…
And wiggling his way into his spark.
My spark squeezed a bit and I felt a tinge of jealousy.
I scoffed at myself as I rubbed at my chest, feeling a bit embarrassed at myself for the feeling. What right did I have to feel jealous over a mech to which I held no claim? It's not like I had never found that happiness.
Besides…what would happen if some day my fiancée did show back up in my life? As slim as that chance might be. If I pursued these feelings I had for Ratchet and then my thoughts that he had been lost to me were proven wrong…what then? There would be no choice that did not hurt someone I loved. And he would be hurt by the knowledge I did not wait even if I went back to him. It would forever mar our relationship.
I didn't want to hurt anyone. Especially not either of those whom I loved. I had never thought it possible for me to love two. But then, I believe the love had wiggled in for Ratchet because my fiancée was lost to me, or believed to be at least. I was not a polygamous person, after all, so that was the only explanation I could think of.
Yet, knowing, or believing anyways, that neither myself nor my fiancée were dead…it didn't truly feel like I had…permission to move on. And that was why I was scared to. Because what if the impossible happened again? My being here should be impossible. So who was to say it wouldn't happen again? As much as I didn't want him to go through the same pain. What if he did? And found the love of his life with another?
How long should I wait to see if it happened? How long did I wait until I could find some kind of information to tell me if it would ever happen?
Did it even matter?
Drift existed here.
Drift.
In another reality Drift was Ratchet's conjunx endura. What right did I have to claim Ratchet as mine? Just because I met him first?
I rubbed my chest again as it hurt in pain and confusion.
As a writer of fanfiction I had always had a rule. You didn't break up canon couples. I didn't break up canon couples. Obviously there was leeway for fandoms where realities changed things themselves. Or where things were left for interpretation.
Ratchet himself had only ever been canonically paired off in that comic. And a possibly interpreted relationship with Arcee in a different reality. Nothing ever said he was taken in any other reality besides those two. And that comic took place far in the future.
And this wasn't either of those realities. This also wasn't the same as that. Right? Why should I put myself in that box? Make myself stick to some theoretical rule about a theoretical relationship that may never happen even if I took myself out of the equation?
I paused at that thought. How would I even dare to take myself out of the equation? It's not like there was some other mech I had feelings for and I would never pair off with someone for whom I held nothing for. It's not like I held killing myself as an option—if I did, I would've taken it while Shockwave tore me apart and put me back together. And walking away from the cause was equally off the table. Asking for base reassignment was not something that appealed either.
Running away from my problems was so very not me that thinking about it only existed for me to dismiss all the options available to do so, it seemed.
But how was I supposed to face something like this head on when it was such a delicate subject? It's not the same scenario as it was that day I asked for my fiancée's number in the theatre. It wasn't that simple anymore. Was it? Wasn't communication the solution to all problems like this? I shouldn't find it so hard anymore.
I sighed heavily.
"You are still awake."
I almost startled at the voice. "You are very silent." I turned my helm to look at the white, black and gold mech in the darkness, wondering if he would take the white and red paint job I was more familiar with when Ironhide made his new armor.
Drift walked over, steps light. "I could not sleep, I thought a walk would help. Perhaps one would help you as well." He offered a hand out to me.
"Perhaps," I agreed, taking his offered hand and allowing him to help me sit up. "The company will at least allow me to escape my thoughts."
"I, too, have many thoughts," Drift said. "The darkness of the halls do not help me find my way from them."
"Perhaps some fresh air will help, then," I suggested as I got to my pedes carefully.
Drift tilted his helm. "I am not allowed to depart from medbay."
Well, there goes any chance I would have at sneaking off to the beach. He was as much a rule stickler as I was, eh? How far did that extend? I didn't recall him being such in the comic. Ultra Magnus had played that role. Drift was a voice of reason, not so much rules.
"What is amusing?" Drift asked, tone perplexed.
"Sorry," I said, trying to calm the amused smirk that had found its way onto my face at the thought of two rule-abiding bots sneaking off anywhere. "You do not have to worry. We do not need to leave medbay for fresh air. We can save sneaking around for when we are a bit healthier."
"What do you mean?" Drift asked as I motioned for him to follow me.
"No one has shown you the courtyard yet?" I asked, wings making small motions. "That won't do. We all need fresh air sometimes. Even us prisoners to medbay."
Drift raised an optic ridge.
"I mean that in jest," I chuckled as we approached the door. "We are kept here so Ratchet can keep a monitor on our health, not cause we're actually prisoners."
"You may not be," Drift said, sounding like he thought he was.
"Did Optimus or Prowl tell you that you are being held prisoner? I don't see any cuffs on you. Not even a subspace inhibitor device," I said, looking him over as I opened the door. "You are roaming the halls in the middle of the night with no body guard. Honestly, I had more restrictions when I was masquerading as a traitor to lure out a mole and I was being treated leniently. You, my friend, are no prisoner."
Drift tilted his helm, looking at me. When he didn't move, I motioned him to move through the doorway. After a moment he finally stepped through and then I followed behind him.
I stepped up next to him when he stopped, taking in the cool night air. I closed my optics for a moment, taking it in, taking in the peace of the moment. Then I looked up at the stars, tracking through them.
"I love how well you can see the stars from out here," I said quietly. I heard Drift shift slightly. "I thought maybe once buildings went up that star visibility would be lost, and it was a little, but we can still see lots more than I could where I lived before all this."
Drift was silent and I heard him shift again. A peek told me he had shifted his gaze up at the sky. "Where did you live before?"
"Still Earth, but…in a city," I replied softly. I hesitated, not sure how much I wanted to reveal yet. The Drift I knew so much about I knew I would trust, but I still just met this one. And he was just starting his journey of leaving his Decepticon life behind him. Who knows what he might think about an ex-human like myself?
"Among humans? Are we not supposed to be kept secret from the general populace?" Drift asked.
"We are," I replied. "It's a complicated story. I will tell you sometime, if you stick around, if no one else ends up telling you for some reason or another." I waved a hand lightly.
"I…see," Drift said uncertainly.
"Don't think too hard on it," I said, chuckling. "Trust me. I have thought myself in circles about it and I have all the information regarding myself there is available to us. I cannot imagine trying to figure it out with as little as I have shared with you." I half way grinned at him.
"You are a perplexing femme," Drift said, shaking his helm.
"Indeed," I said in agreement, nodding emphatically. "You can thank Shockwave for that, if you find it frustrating."
Drift frowned. He reached out and hovered a hand over my wing closest to him where it was wrapped somewhat around me. "Some of these scars are old," he said softly, referring to the scars at the connection point of my feathers. Not all of them had them, but a good many, especially now.
"Courtesy of a mech who thinks he's god," I said, hugging myself with my arms as I looked away, wings pulling in closer. "Thankfully, he does not appear to be on Earth. Or, at least Megatron didn't see fit to turn me over to him yet. Before I found an escape." I let out a shuddering breath.
"A blessing," Drift said.
"Maybe," I said, looking back up at the stars. "And yet…I wonder if I had ended up in his lab…if I might've been able to find some answers to some of my questions. Questions that his data from his experiments might be the only lead I could hope for."
"Are those answers worth going under his scalpel again for?" Drift asked.
I was silent, searching the stars for a moment as if they might answer for me. "No," I said finally. "Probably not. But those answers would go a long way to helping me find peace." I tightened my arms, and my wings, around myself.
"Is that why you are awake?" Drift asked. "You lack peace because of these questions?"
"In part," I said quietly.
I left it at that. I wasn't going to tell him that he was part of my turmoil. I wasn't about to do that to him. How would one even tell a mech that you were conflicted and confused because you had feelings for a mech an alternate version of them bonded with an alternate version of said mech in the far flung future? Would he think I resented him? Would it just complicate our tentative friendship? Would it make him feel like he must leave? I didn't want him to leave. Not because of that, anyways. If he left, it should be because of his own reasons, not because of me.
"What else?" Drift asked.
Of course he would ask. He really did have hints of that future mech, huh? Even though he was taking a different path there. And was just starting that path.
"Nothing that concerns you," I said a little guardedly. I inwardly cringed. I didn't particularly like being guarded. But I liked the idea of hurting his path toward goodness less. I liked the idea of chasing him away less. Even if that meant that maybe Ratchet might fall for him and not me.
"You have ill feelings about me too, then," Drift sighed, misinterpreting me.
"No! No," I said, alarmed as my body language opened up as I dropped my arms and opened my wings. I turned toward him and placed my hands lightly on his arms. "That is not it at all. Some things…" I paused to flinch, frame shuddering as tears pricked at my optics. "Some things…I am barely even ready to admit to myself, much less another bot." My voice broke a little as I spoke. "Especially one I have just met. It is….a personal problem." I put a hand over my spark.
"I see," Drift said, looking at me with a frown. "I am relieved I am not the cause for concern, then." He looked down at my hand that was still on his arm and I realized I must've confused him.
Cursing my overreaction—I was not usually one to overreact—I dropped my hand and took a step back. "Right, um," I said, rubbing at my arm. "Sorry, I don't usually react that strongly to things. I am…in a vulnerable spot right now."
"Understandably," Drift said gently, optics kind and understanding. "Don't worry. I know how harsh Decepticons are to their captives."
"I suppose you would," I said, frame relaxing as I saw he was not going to hold my over the top reaction against me. Or, at least, it seemed like he wasn't. It was hard for me to truly believe that was real. Even knowing what I knew.
Drift lifted a hand and then hesitated a moment before reaching out and placing it on my shoulder. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
My wings shifted as I thought. Well, if he wasn't with the Circle of Light, someone had to teach him how to meditate and be spiritual and stuff, right? "Have you ever meditated?"
Drift frowned. "I have not."
I motioned with my helm. "Come on, then," I said. "You're gonna learn something new tonight."
Drift didn't follow me immediately, but after a moment, he was following me into the square of grass in the middle of the courtyard and he sat cross-legged across from me.
"Now, young Padawan," I said, optics sparkling. "We shall begin your lessons."
Drift raised an optic ridge again, but said nothing about what I called him.
Ratchet grumbled slightly as he walked through the medbay early the next morning. He needed more sleep, but his internal alarm had woken him up, reminding him that he needed to give not just Shadebreaker, but also Drift their next doses of painkillers. He was not ready to be awake. Much less go outside, where the security cams told him they both were.
Honestly, what were they doing out there so early?
"Alright, you two…" he trailed off upon seeing them.
They weren't even awake. The both of them were asleep, leaning against the courtyard walls a bots-length apart from each other. At least they had the decency not to pile on top of each other's damaged frame like napping cyberkittens.
Ratchet sighed, gazing at them. It wasn't the most ideal spot for either of them, but it was the most peaceful he'd seen Shadebreaker since she'd returned and the same was true for Drift.
"Well, at least you can't fight me when you're asleep," he muttered.
He knelt by Shadebreaker first, reaching out and brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek. When she didn't respond beyond a light pur coming from her system, he gently removed her shoulder armor to administer the pain meds as gently and quickly as possible. She shifted, groaning as her frame registered the pain of the needle and he placed a hand on her shoulder to keep it still as he watched her, willing her to stay asleep. She did and he was able to finish and replace her armor without disturbing her further.
He paused when he turned toward Drift and saw blue optics watching him. He shifted closer so he could speak without waking Shadebreaker. "Light sleeper, aren't you?"
Drift blinked. "One of us has to be, sleeping outside," he said, optics darting toward the sleeping form of Shadebreaker.
"I guarantee you that it is safe out here, otherwise Shadebreaker would also be sleeping light," Ratchet said dryly. "In fact, I do not believe she would sleep at all if she felt it was unsafe. Much less stay asleep while I administer her painkiller."
"She must trust you a great deal," Drift observed as Ratchet took his shoulder armor off.
"She does," Ratchet agreed. "It's a trust hard earned. You should've seen her when she first came in. Thought she was going to run right out of my medbay."
Drift frowned at that. "She doesn't seem the type."
"She's come a long way," Ratchet said as he administered the shot to Drift's shoulder. "Now I can't hardly get her to leave. Even when she's not injured."
"You do not want her to anyways," Drift said it as a statement, an observation.
Ratchet sighed. "Something like that."
Drift watched Ratchet for a long moment as the medic replaced his shoulder armor carefully.
"Well," Ratchet said as he stood back to his pedes. "I'm going back inside. I'll be back to check on you by breakfast. Behave until then."
Drift merely nodded, understanding the need for the admonition.
Ratchet hesitated just a moment before moving back toward the door to inside, bringing up the security footage from overnight internally to review. While he doubted Shadebreaker would be sleeping so peacefully if something…untoward had happened, he had to make sure. This was still an ex-Con after all.
Once he was satisfied nothing happened that shouldn't have—it was nice seeing the two getting along if he was honest—he switched off the feed and went back to his quarters for a couple more hours of rest.