The first thing Megatron noticed was the ceiling overhead. Unexpected. He hadn't expected to open his eyes again at all.
The second was pain, so widespread and pervasive it hadn't even registered at first.
The third was a familiar, irritated voice grumbling beside him.
"Ratchet?" He tried to raise his head to see.
The grumbling cut off abruptly. "You shouldn't even be conscious right now. No, stop that. Don't move! If you insist on being difficult, you could disable your pain receptors, Primus knows I don't have the time or hands for that right now."
A seemingly simple order, and yet one that took longer to execute than it should have as he pushed through the haze of pain to catch hold of the steps that slipped past his fingertips. The pain ebbed to a steady rumble instead of the harsh roar of a whirlpool. "What happened?"
"I should be asking you that."
The memories inched back in to the space vacated by the pain. He jerked under Ratchet's hands. "Tarn!?"
"Defeated, but not before he almost did the same to you. Blasted a hole in your frame big enough Ravage could get inside, severed multiple primary energon lines, one of which is leaking into your exchange filters, and shattered your spark casing. What were you thinking, haring off alone like that!?"
"The DJD was mine. I helped make Tarn who he was. It's only right that he be defeated by my hand. The Autobots don't need to get involved in internal Decepticon conflicts; too many lives have already been spilled."
He gasped as Ratchet's fingers tightened over his exposed spark. "Nonsense!" Ratchet snapped. "Your poetic justice can go off with Magnus's rules and regulations. The Lost Light isn't abandoning one of its captains. Even said captain does his best to get himself killed out of a misplaced sense of moral duty. Captain goes off, discovers the Necrobot is real, has a quasi-religious awakening, and rather than any healthy response decides to throw himself in front of one of the most dangerous Decepticons out there. Always told Drift--"
"Ratchet, I have the reports you wanted, I'll--Ah, I'll just leave them on the desk here. I'm out front if you need me."
"Not now, Velocity," Ratchet muttered. "Now where was I?"
With a Bullet: Transformers, MegaRatch, T
The second was pain, so widespread and pervasive it hadn't even registered at first.
The third was a familiar, irritated voice grumbling beside him.
"Ratchet?" He tried to raise his head to see.
The grumbling cut off abruptly. "You shouldn't even be conscious right now. No, stop that. Don't move! If you insist on being difficult, you could disable your pain receptors, Primus knows I don't have the time or hands for that right now."
A seemingly simple order, and yet one that took longer to execute than it should have as he pushed through the haze of pain to catch hold of the steps that slipped past his fingertips. The pain ebbed to a steady rumble instead of the harsh roar of a whirlpool. "What happened?"
"I should be asking you that."
The memories inched back in to the space vacated by the pain. He jerked under Ratchet's hands. "Tarn!?"
"Defeated, but not before he almost did the same to you. Blasted a hole in your frame big enough Ravage could get inside, severed multiple primary energon lines, one of which is leaking into your exchange filters, and shattered your spark casing. What were you thinking, haring off alone like that!?"
"The DJD was mine. I helped make Tarn who he was. It's only right that he be defeated by my hand. The Autobots don't need to get involved in internal Decepticon conflicts; too many lives have already been spilled."
He gasped as Ratchet's fingers tightened over his exposed spark. "Nonsense!" Ratchet snapped. "Your poetic justice can go off with Magnus's rules and regulations. The Lost Light isn't abandoning one of its captains. Even said captain does his best to get himself killed out of a misplaced sense of moral duty. Captain goes off, discovers the Necrobot is real, has a quasi-religious awakening, and rather than any healthy response decides to throw himself in front of one of the most dangerous Decepticons out there. Always told Drift--"
"Ratchet, I have the reports you wanted, I'll--Ah, I'll just leave them on the desk here. I'm out front if you need me."
"Not now, Velocity," Ratchet muttered. "Now where was I?"