heavyweaponsbot | 6th Transmission / Audio

Worked on it enough...

[He let his own hand drop back to his side, leaning back against the wall with a muffled clank of metal.]

'Rather that you lived. Can protect myself too, y'know. Not... completely useless.

Hmph. Forgot fried circuits'n... n'that optic too. Pain in the aft.

Yeah... yeah you did. Good job.

[He watched him for a moment, quiet. He would have looked thoughtful if there wasn't a such a bleary expression on his face.]

'Rather you lived... too. See. That's... what 'm talkin' about. You... stayin' alive. That--that--that's important. Y'know? 'Course y'not... useless that's stupid.

[More silence, except the soft whir of systems quite happily overcharged.]

Y'could look at it. Y'never fixed it. I can't see.

You staying alive isn't any less important.

[He fidgets for a moment, lightly touching a finger to Ironhide's arm, feeling the area where his cannons should have been. It was still odd to see him without them - whoever was responsible had done such a clean job of removing the weapons, it was as though they had never been there.]

Not as... as useful in battle, s'what I meant. Couldn't've taken out Payload, so... just did what I was good at! Fixin' things... Do that a lot.

[A long pause, impaired systems working to understand and comprehend the last part of what he'd said. Perhaps another long drink from the cube would help.]

Can't see? Fraggit, Ironhide...

I'ma... I'm... gonna lookit it tomorrow. Dunno... if I can fix it right, 'cause... they took my tools. But I'm gonna try to fix it. S'that... okay?

Is too. Is too. M'a soldier. Made f'that. You? Aren't.

[There's more he wants to say on that subject, but his thoughts get derailed with the touch on his arm. He looks down at it, surprised. He should shrug it off, and pull back, because it's important he doesn't get too close - but right now, he can't remember why it was important. And it's... a nice touch. And that's a pleased sort of noise he's making, and can't help.]

Yeah... y'good at that. Y'real good. But. But. But you-! You gotta be more careful. Y'know? Need you.

["Tomorrow" doesn't sit right in his judgment-lacking processor. It's repairs, and Ratchet can make them, no matter what - he thinks. He flails around a bit until he gets hold of the hand on his arm.]

Y'can look now. M'right here. Dunno... 'bout later. Y'can look. Good enough t'look.

Hmph. You're not... made t'be killed.

'M careful. Still alive, right?

[He catches the noise and seeks to make him repeat it - It was a good noise, he was clearly doing something right to have earned that reaction. However, before he can garner the concentration to do so, Ironhide managed to catch his arm.]

... Dunno what I can do for't right now, 'Hide...

[There's a pause, his own processor attempting to reason why this was a bad idea, aside from the fact he was without his equipment. But Ironhide had only wanted him to look at it, right? And his own optics were functional...]

Hold still. Lemme see it.

Neither're you. An' yeah. Yeah y'are. An' I'm... gonna make sure... y'always are. Always.

[Holds onto that hand, suddenly incredibly entranced by it. It's really interesting. It's so much more flexible. And newer-looking. And smaller. This is a neat discovery!]

S'fine, Doc. S'fine. Jus'... y'always do fine. Always.

[He does hold still, looking up at him from where he's sprawled out. Hold still means you don't move, and he wasn't going to get up.]

M'still.

M'not gonna go anywhere.

[Now you can understand what he finds so fascinating! Isn't it interesting, the study of the various moving parts of the servos?]

Mm.

[After a moment's pause, he shifts to lean over the weapons master, trying to get a better view of the damage. Of course, with overcharged systems, what should have been a simple task suddently seemed several times more complex than it should have been. It was everything he could do not to poke at the cracked metal of his optic ridge.

He leaned in even closer, squinting as he attempted to examine it. This was all very interesting, but his processor could not quite fathom was was actually wrong with it.]

Yeah... 'Cause m'watching you. Watchin' y'back. Always gonna be.

[More interested in it because it's so different. Not at all like his. Smaller, brighter... and all the fingers work.]

Huh?

[There's a face suddenly very close to his. He almost pulls away. But this is is friend. What's there to be afraid of? To back off of? There was a reason. A very good reason. But he can't remember it right now. All the energon in his systems is making it very hard to remember much of anything...

And besides... having him so close feels... right.]

Hi.

[He lets go of the interesting hand... if only to focus on a more interesting object. And he pats the bleary, neon face above him.]

Hi.

Makes it easier... f'r me to watch yours. Got you close already.

[He was still attempting to decipher what it was that he was looking for when he felt Ironhide's hand on his faceplates. Hm. Well, that made this process more...

He wanted to say difficult, but the combination of the proximity, his hand; 'difficult' did not sound right for the situation.

Blinking as he attempted yet again to collect his wits, overcharged and dully aware as he was, the medic leaned against Ironhide's hand, trying to peer over it at the damaged optic.]

Hi.

6th Transmission / Audio

[ ACTION SPAM! ]

[ ACTION SPAM! ]

[ ACTION SPAM! ]

[ ACTION SPAM! ]

[ ACTION SPAM! ]

[ ACTION SPAM! ]

[ ACTION SPAM! ]

[ ACTION SPAM! ]

[ ACTION SPAM! ]