raisedbymoogles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raisedbymoogles) wrote2019-07-12 05:09 pm
raisedbymoogles) wrote2019-07-12 05:09 pm
Entry tags:
Ficbit: Galvatron in the medbay
I was reading through my bff's Unicronian RP tumblr and this post must have clicked some neurons together, because this scene popped into my head in its entirety today. G/R, nothing explicit, vaguely-defined truce'verse, mentions of bad things happening to a really nice 'bot who doesn't deserve any of this.
*
A mixed-faction medbay was barely-contained chaos at the best of times, despite everyone’s best efforts to maintain the alliance. Rodimus refrained from volunteering at the place, despite his medical training, fearing that the presence of the Prime would tip the delicate balance of old grudges and clever insults; but when he heard that Doctor Galvatron was in residence, he relaxed his resistance. Surely, he reasoned, if Galvatron hadn’t brought the place down around everyone’s audials yet, he wouldn’t either.
“I hear you’ve taken on an apprentice,” he teased First Aid, catching the medic on the way back from a fuel break.
First Aid’s optic band paled in dismay. “Oh, don’t let him hear you say that.” Rodimus laughed and shook his head - no, of course not - and they kept walking. “But yes, Galvatron’s been taking on some of the work for me. I think it’s therapeutic - you know how he is with forced inactivity.”
“Boy, do I,” Rodimus dared to mutter, because they were nearing the medical complex and they might well be within Galvatron’s hearing range. “Does he work on just Decepticons, or anybody?”
“He’s not picky. I can’t say the same for some of our patients.” First Aid sounded fairly disapproving, as though nobody should find the Herald of Unicron coming at them with a wrench alarming. “Really, it’s not as if he’s unskilled. He’s very clever when he takes the time to be. I do wish he’d stop gluing weapons to people who haven’t asked for them, though,” First Aid added as they entered the medbay proper, and Rodimus blinked as he realized his gentle friend had actually raised his voice.
He blinked again at Galvatron’s answering shout - equal parts annoyed and amused, and clearly audible even coming from all the way in the back of a medbay busy with ongoing bodywork. “I did that Autobot a favor!”
“The recoil on that thing sent poor Bumblebee over a cliff!”
“Then he shouldn’t stand near cliffs,” Galvatron shot back, and Rodimus utterly failed to muffle a laugh. First Aid huffed at him but he honestly couldn’t help it - he’d never wish harm on a fellow Autobot but the mental image was just funny. “Prime!” Galvatron commanded, clocking him immediately. “Come here!”
Rodimus obeyed immediately, still trailing half-guilty amusement in his field. Galvatron had a hover chair to get around while his legs were being rebuilt, but he hated it and Rodimus wasn’t about to sour his mood by making him chase his Chosen One down in it. “You had your chance to chuck minibots off cliffs,” he mock-scolded as he neared the repair table where Galvatron was welding Ramjet back together. “We do that to Quints now, remember?”
“Bah!” Sparks flew and Ramjet winced. “So I miscalculated his weight a bit. Would he rather be a bit airborne, or a bit dismembered by Sharkticons?”
“The former, I’m sure,” Rodimus admitted. “But seriously - tone it down? Maybe two notches? Please,” he added when Galvatron’s visible optic narrowed. “I really do appreciate you helping out like this. But some Autobots have jobs where extra weaponry is a drawback.”
“Autobots!” Galvatron banged the welder down, and even Ramjet looked exasperated. “I make no promises, Rodimus. If I don’t get my legs back soon I’ll…!” He gestured vaguely, leaving what he’d do if he got sick enough of being unable to walk or fly up to Rodimus’s imagination, and not for the first time Rodimus prayed Cyclonus returned soon with the materials Galvatron needed. “But very well, I’ll try to confine my improvements to those who would appreciate it!”
“Thank you.” Rodimus tugged a stool over and sank down onto it, well within arm’s reach. “And you know,” he added casually, “you can always fiddle with my weapons systems any time you want.”
“Can you not while I’m-!” Ramjet burst out, but Galvatron’s bark of laughter effectively drowned him out.
*
A mixed-faction medbay was barely-contained chaos at the best of times, despite everyone’s best efforts to maintain the alliance. Rodimus refrained from volunteering at the place, despite his medical training, fearing that the presence of the Prime would tip the delicate balance of old grudges and clever insults; but when he heard that Doctor Galvatron was in residence, he relaxed his resistance. Surely, he reasoned, if Galvatron hadn’t brought the place down around everyone’s audials yet, he wouldn’t either.
“I hear you’ve taken on an apprentice,” he teased First Aid, catching the medic on the way back from a fuel break.
First Aid’s optic band paled in dismay. “Oh, don’t let him hear you say that.” Rodimus laughed and shook his head - no, of course not - and they kept walking. “But yes, Galvatron’s been taking on some of the work for me. I think it’s therapeutic - you know how he is with forced inactivity.”
“Boy, do I,” Rodimus dared to mutter, because they were nearing the medical complex and they might well be within Galvatron’s hearing range. “Does he work on just Decepticons, or anybody?”
“He’s not picky. I can’t say the same for some of our patients.” First Aid sounded fairly disapproving, as though nobody should find the Herald of Unicron coming at them with a wrench alarming. “Really, it’s not as if he’s unskilled. He’s very clever when he takes the time to be. I do wish he’d stop gluing weapons to people who haven’t asked for them, though,” First Aid added as they entered the medbay proper, and Rodimus blinked as he realized his gentle friend had actually raised his voice.
He blinked again at Galvatron’s answering shout - equal parts annoyed and amused, and clearly audible even coming from all the way in the back of a medbay busy with ongoing bodywork. “I did that Autobot a favor!”
“The recoil on that thing sent poor Bumblebee over a cliff!”
“Then he shouldn’t stand near cliffs,” Galvatron shot back, and Rodimus utterly failed to muffle a laugh. First Aid huffed at him but he honestly couldn’t help it - he’d never wish harm on a fellow Autobot but the mental image was just funny. “Prime!” Galvatron commanded, clocking him immediately. “Come here!”
Rodimus obeyed immediately, still trailing half-guilty amusement in his field. Galvatron had a hover chair to get around while his legs were being rebuilt, but he hated it and Rodimus wasn’t about to sour his mood by making him chase his Chosen One down in it. “You had your chance to chuck minibots off cliffs,” he mock-scolded as he neared the repair table where Galvatron was welding Ramjet back together. “We do that to Quints now, remember?”
“Bah!” Sparks flew and Ramjet winced. “So I miscalculated his weight a bit. Would he rather be a bit airborne, or a bit dismembered by Sharkticons?”
“The former, I’m sure,” Rodimus admitted. “But seriously - tone it down? Maybe two notches? Please,” he added when Galvatron’s visible optic narrowed. “I really do appreciate you helping out like this. But some Autobots have jobs where extra weaponry is a drawback.”
“Autobots!” Galvatron banged the welder down, and even Ramjet looked exasperated. “I make no promises, Rodimus. If I don’t get my legs back soon I’ll…!” He gestured vaguely, leaving what he’d do if he got sick enough of being unable to walk or fly up to Rodimus’s imagination, and not for the first time Rodimus prayed Cyclonus returned soon with the materials Galvatron needed. “But very well, I’ll try to confine my improvements to those who would appreciate it!”
“Thank you.” Rodimus tugged a stool over and sank down onto it, well within arm’s reach. “And you know,” he added casually, “you can always fiddle with my weapons systems any time you want.”
“Can you not while I’m-!” Ramjet burst out, but Galvatron’s bark of laughter effectively drowned him out.
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He blinked again at Galvatron’s answering shout - equal parts annoyed and amused, and clearly audible even coming from all the way in the back of a medbay busy with ongoing bodywork. “I did that Autobot a favor!”
*sporfle* XDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
Aaah, that was adorable and I can just totally picture it all, hee!
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