raisedbymoogles (
raisedbymoogles) wrote2010-03-22 08:12 pm
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Birthday ficlet for (lj)poptartodoom!
Because I love my Poptart, that's why.
***
Repair was delicate work, not the type Wheeljack was really known for. He kept doubling back to check he'd done everything right, testing seals and connections just in case he'd missed something. It made the work slow, but Wheeljack would never forgive himself if he caused something to happen to his patient.
"You picked a bad time to get injured, Ratchet," he murmured into the dormant circuitry of the supine mech on the table. "With just me around to repair you."
Come to think of it, this was how their relationship tended to run - the injured and the medic - except their roles had always been reversed. Wheeljack had lost count of the number of times he'd landed on Ratchet's repair table, though it wasn't nearly as often as everyone said and anyway most of the time it wasn't his fault. Not that it mattered to Ratchet. Whether the damage was from Decepticon weapons or the occasional lab accident, Ratchet berated Wheeljack with equal fury, and repaired him with equal gentleness.
"Ought to call you a few names," Wheeljack grumbled affectionately, closing the panel he'd been working under. "See how you like it."
"...'Jack?"
Wheeljack nearly dropped his tool. "Ratchet!" he exclaimed, drinking in the medic's faint smile and the dim blue light of his optics. "You're okay!"
"For... a given value... of okay," Ratchet rasped, his vocalizer skipping and stuttering from damage. "Couldn't... get a maintenance drone... huh?"
"Hey!" Wheeljack poked him, pride stung. "I'm not you, but I'm no slouch either, thank you very much!" Ratchet chuckled quietly, letting him know he was teasing, and Wheeljack sighed and laughed too. "If you're with it enough to make fun, then you'll be okay. Just - do me a favor?"
"Yeah...?"
Wheeljack embraced him impulsively. "Don't ever do that again. You scared me half to death!"
" 'Jack..."
Wheeljack felt Ratchet's hand softly pat his arm, and had to fight down a staticky sob.
***
Repair was delicate work, not the type Wheeljack was really known for. He kept doubling back to check he'd done everything right, testing seals and connections just in case he'd missed something. It made the work slow, but Wheeljack would never forgive himself if he caused something to happen to his patient.
"You picked a bad time to get injured, Ratchet," he murmured into the dormant circuitry of the supine mech on the table. "With just me around to repair you."
Come to think of it, this was how their relationship tended to run - the injured and the medic - except their roles had always been reversed. Wheeljack had lost count of the number of times he'd landed on Ratchet's repair table, though it wasn't nearly as often as everyone said and anyway most of the time it wasn't his fault. Not that it mattered to Ratchet. Whether the damage was from Decepticon weapons or the occasional lab accident, Ratchet berated Wheeljack with equal fury, and repaired him with equal gentleness.
"Ought to call you a few names," Wheeljack grumbled affectionately, closing the panel he'd been working under. "See how you like it."
"...'Jack?"
Wheeljack nearly dropped his tool. "Ratchet!" he exclaimed, drinking in the medic's faint smile and the dim blue light of his optics. "You're okay!"
"For... a given value... of okay," Ratchet rasped, his vocalizer skipping and stuttering from damage. "Couldn't... get a maintenance drone... huh?"
"Hey!" Wheeljack poked him, pride stung. "I'm not you, but I'm no slouch either, thank you very much!" Ratchet chuckled quietly, letting him know he was teasing, and Wheeljack sighed and laughed too. "If you're with it enough to make fun, then you'll be okay. Just - do me a favor?"
"Yeah...?"
Wheeljack embraced him impulsively. "Don't ever do that again. You scared me half to death!"
" 'Jack..."
Wheeljack felt Ratchet's hand softly pat his arm, and had to fight down a staticky sob.
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