six_word_stories | (no subject)

Ratchet, you don't like it when I'm working.

[Considering Drift's work tends to involve stabbing mechs.]

Well then, I guess our ideas of work are different, too.

[Polar opposites, actually, but what else is new.]

I'm sure you can find some way to pass the time without injuring yourself... or anyone else.

Hey! I don't injure myself.

[He's pretty good at that. Anyone else? Yeah, that's another story.]

I suppose I could meditate some more.

[Like, right here? Right now? You weren't doing anything on this desk, were you?]

Suppose that puts you a step above Rodimus, at least.

[Not that that's saying much.

HEAVY SIGHING.]

I told you to go waste your time, not mine, too.

[What did he Just say about some people trying to get Actual Work done.]

Hey! Rodimus is captain!

[Don't talk about Rodimus that way, Ratchet! ]

Meditation doesn't waste time, Ratchet. I mean, you probably could use a good cleaning of your aura.

And Optimus was Prime, but that doesn't mean I let him run around making stupid decisions.

[Of course, Optimus kept on doing it anyways, as will Rodimus- but that isn't about to keep Ratchet from yelling at him over it.]

My aura.

[Said in the most deadpan tone possible.]

Enlighten me. What exactly is so wrong with my aura that it needs to be cleansed?

Yeah, he did those on his own.

[Someone upset that Optimus bailed on the war, maybe? Hey, you start something, you gotta finish it. Even if you finish it on the other team.]

Well, I mean, it's all grim and frowny, for one thing.

[A snort.]

Guess we agree on something, after all.

[Old friends or otherwise, he's never agreed with Optimus' methods of handling... well, most situations, quite frankly.]

You ever stop to think that maybe I prefer it that way?

We agree on a lot of things, Ratchet.

Rock monsters are bad. Whirl is crazy. And sparkeaters are real.

[You tried to deny that last one, didn't you?]

No?

[Honest answer. Thinking isn't his strong suit in the first place, Ratchet. And in the second, who would choose to be grumpy?]

Technoparasites. Technoparasites are real.

[He's only being obnoxiously technical because he can't really disagree with any of the other statements.]

Well, I do. Don't want people to get the impression that I enjoy having my work interrupted because they think I want to have a friendly chat with them. I don't have time for pleasantries.

Same thing.

[He says, placidly. He's won that point, so he can be gracious. Ish. About it.]

Everyone has time to be pleasant, Ratchet.

You know what I think? [Well TOO BAD you're going to find out.] I think you don't realize how much we appreciate you.

Clearly I'm not everyone, then.

[And he'd very much like to see everyone else find time to be "pleasant" while still running a medical bay on a ship like the Lost Light, thank you very much.]

I-- of course you do. You know damn well no one else is gonna piece you all back together... repeatedly.

[Is he trying to deflect the conversation? Yes. Yes he is. He was caught off guard.]

Everyone. Especially you, Ratchet. You help people! [What's not to be happy and pleasant about?]

See? That's my point. [And that whooshing sound is Ratchet's point sailing right over Drift's head.]

I'd find a little more joy in helping people if they weren't getting hurt for stupid, avoidable reasons.

[Rodimus and Whirl come to mind.]

Well then, since you've made your point I guess you have no choice but to let me work in peace.

Hey, you haven't had to repair me in a while!

[It's been a whole few days. ]

Ratchet. We have free will. We always have a choice. And I'm choosing to bring some gratitude and appreciation into your day. [You lucky mech, you.]

I'd hardly consider that an achievement. It ought to be a given.

[He knows it's a long-shot but he can dream.]

Yes, well, I'm choosing to direct your gratitude elsewhere. I'm sure there's someone else you haven't appreciated recently enough. Wouldn't want them to feel left out.

Ratchet. [He draws himself up.] I have a job to do. Sometimes, in my job, I get hurt.

[That's where you come in.]

Oh? What are you working on? [PEERING.]

Your only job is being Third in Command of a spaceship. Nowhere in the handbook does it say that involves being a reckless, self-sacrificing-

[HEY no cutting into his work when he's in the middle of a rant. Just gonna swipe that datapad off to the side.]

You know, in case you weren't aware, patient privacy is a very highly regarded matter in the medical profession.

But, Ratchet. [A little whiny.] I'm not good at that job. I'm better at, you know, fighting injustice.

[And by fighting, he means stabbing and slicing.]

You have mine in there? [He tries to grab the datapad. What secret things does Ratchet write about Drift in his datapad?]

You won't be any good at any job if you keep trying to get yourself killed.

[So disapproving of this vigilante nonsense.]

Of course I- HEY!

[Immediately lunging to grab it back.]

"Patient privacy" happens to include you.

I don't try to get myself killed, Ratchet! [Pearlclutch. ] Someone's gotta do the dangerous work. Why not me?

[Speaking of 'dangerous work', the epic battle for the datapad enters round two. Not getting this away from him THAT easy!]

I'm an open book, Ratchet! What are you hiding?

Maybe because you're too important to put yourself in harm's way- repeatedly- for no real gain.

[Wait, that almost sounded sentimental. Can't have that.]

Rodimus wouldn't know what to do without you. This damn ship is barely holding itself together as is.

[Don't you dare underestimate how hard he is willing to fight over truly petty matters. Including the datapad.]

The only thing I'm hiding is gruesomely detailed scans of every injury you've sustained this whole time we've been out here- I'm really not sure what you're expecting from a medical datapad.

What? [Blink blink clueless blink.] Ratchet, I'm not important. You are. Rodimus is. Ultra Magnus, even. I'm just one of a million soldiers.

[He's not going to refute that stuff about Rodimus. Because he kind of can't. ]

Oh. Ewwww. [Yeah, living through some of his injuries was bad enough. He's not fond of a revisit. He holds the datapad at arm's length.] Including the Red Rust?

[Pot, meet kettle.]

Again, command officer. And the war's over, anyhow, nobody's just one of a million soldiers anymore.

[He'll gladly take the opportunity to snatch that datapad back.]

Of course. You won't believe how much research I collected on what exactly it feels like to have your eyes melt.

[Mostly joking. But not entirely.]

Yeah, but [Uncomfortable wriggle. ] Fighting's the only thing I've ever been good at! Everyone else has civilian jobs they can do. I don't.

[Saddest of sad faces. He doesn't even stop Ratchet from grabbing the datapad back. ]

That's...not really how I want you to remember. [All eyemelty and stuff. ]

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don't give him that face!

it was well deserved

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