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A loud sneeze echoed throughout the medbay and every patient and medic froze. First Aid turned slowly, optics narrowing behind his visor. His visor landed on Ratchet, who was hovering in the far corner by Nautica. The submarine looked equal parts concerned and horrified at the older medic and First Aid let out a loud huff of air from his vents.
“You wait right there, I’ll be right back.” Aid grumbled and left Trailbreaker laying back on the berth. He just nodded, his own visor locked on Ratchet and Nautica.
Aid stomped over, gently moving Nautica out of the way so he could get a clear scan of his mentor before Ratchet could get away. Again. The medical scanner gave a cheerful beep and First Aid’s glare got even stormier.
“I told you it wasn’t just allergies this morning,” Aid snapped, waving the scanner around in the air angrily. “You’ve got a helm cold and need to get out of the medbay now.”
“You’re still my apprentice. You don’t get to order me around like that.” Ratchet grumped, trying to get his armor to lay back down on his shoulders. His earlier sneeze had displaced a few bits of his plating.
“Not at the moment I’m not!” Aid snapped, standing on his pede tips to get a little extra height on Ratchet. “You’re sick according to my scans which means you can no longer be on duty until you’re symptom free and I get a clean scan back with zero traces of this cold. And since I’m the next senior medic in charge under you, that makes me stand in CMO until you’re better.”
Ratchet blinked slowly, staring down at the smaller medic. “Now wait just a minute—“
“I will call Ultra Magnus in here if you don’t leave. You don’t need to be hospitalized at the moment so you can get out. I’ll comm Drift and let him know you need a sparkling sitter until you’re symptom free. If he needs to sit on you, all the better.” Aid let out a loud huff of air and all but herded a grumbling Ratchet out of the now silent medbay.
***
Drift’s comm beeped at him. He ignored it, focusing on his breathing and slowing his spark’s spin. It beeped again. He sent a busy text back and tried to recenter himself, hoping that would be the end of it. Another message beeped at him, somehow coming across as insistent. Drift’s optic ridge twitched. Before he could decide whether he wanted to accept or deny it, another message beeped at him.
::What do you want?:: The speedster snapped, not looking at who the message was from as he opened it. He glared at the mat in front of him.
::Wow, I hope you don’t answer all your comms like that.:: Aid’s voice drawled on the other end.
::Sorry, I’m trying to meditate on my one day off and someone keeps bothering me.:: Drift kind of regretted it, but he was also frustrated. Rodimus had been out due to an injury, Ultra Magnus had to take time off due to a coding issue, and then Megatron was out sick, all pretty much at the same time and it was Drift who ended up taking on most of the responsibilities of all three. Trailbreaker had taken on most of Megatron’s duties, but still. It had been a lot for the past two weeks.
::Then I guess you don’t care if Ratchet makes it back to your hab or not? I had to kick him out of the medbay. He’s got that damn virus that’s been going around and being up and getting in everyone’s way isn’t going to make it any better.::
Drift’s spark skipped a rotation. ::Ratchet’s sick?::
::Yup, it’s not too bad right now, but knowing Ratchet, he’s out and about and getting others sick because he thinks he’s fine and it’s nothing.:: Aid sounded a bit distracted, but Drift was already up and moving out of his training room.
::Don’t worry First Aid, I’ll find him and make sure he gets rested and taken care of.::
::Yeah, yeah, you do that. Sit on him if he tries to leave too. Doctor’s orders.::
The comm line went dead and Drift focused fully on hunting his conjunx down as soon as he could.
***
Ratchet had loitered outside of the medbay for all of three minutes before he wandered off down the hall. He was fuming, and not just because First Aid had had the ball bearings to kick him out of his own medbay. His vents were literally huffing out hot air and his fans kicked up another notch as a hot flash washed through his frame.
Aid was wrong. It wasn’t anything serious at all. The scanners always made minor viruses and colds seem worse than they were. He’d only gone in that morning to get a few doses of medication to take and then a few mechs had come in for check ups and that nonsense from the labs had happened and Ratchet only wanted to help.
The CMO had to admit that he’d trained First Aid well though. For a while there he’d worried the younger mech wasn’t cut out for being a full time medic. A nurse maybe, but not a medic. He’d certainly been wrong there.
He wandered the halls a bit, not wanting to admit that he really could use a good long nap. It wasn’t like there was anyone around and he didn’t have to tell Aid he was right. But then there was a blur of white and red plating and suddenly Drift was grabbing him by his cheeks and his face was filled with worry.
“What are you doing wandering around like this in your state?” His conjunx said.
“State? What state? I’m fine, Aid is overreacting is all.” Ratchet grumped, trying to get out of Drift’s grasp. It was impossible.
“Fine?! Ratchet, you’re literally smoking right now!”
Ratchet paused, ran a self-diagnosis, and then stared at the readouts on his HUD. “Huh, guess it has gotten a little worse than earlier.”
Drift let out an annoyed huff. “Look, if you come back to our habsuite right now, I won’t tell Aid he was right.”
Ratchet was silent for a klik. “Alright, fine.”
The grin Drift gave him was worth it at least.
***
Ratchet laid down on their berth with a groan, sinking into the pile of pillows Drift had stacked for him before he’d made it to the berth. He wanted to complain about how unnecessary it all was, but honestly his frame had started to ache and the plush surface felt too nice. He shifted, sinking further into the pillows while Drift wandered off.
Ratchet let his optics close and listened to the noise his conjunx was making somewhere else in their habsuite. He floated for a bit. Somewhere in a space that was and also wasn’t recharge and then he felt Drift’s EM field brush against his and forced his optics to relight.
“What the frag is that?” Ratchet croaked, optics narrowing into a glare.
Drift, the slagger, grinned broadly enough to show off his fangs. ”Just some incense! This stuff will help you clear your vents and promotes swift healing.”
Ratchet’s optics narrowed even more. “Don’t you start that slag with me. It doesn’t work like that. I’ll just take something Aid gave me and it’ll be fine.”
Drift didn’t say anything, just placed the incense burner out of Ratchet’s reach on their night stand and walked off. There was an annoying bounce to his step and he’d started humming. Ratchet didn’t let himself fall back into a partial recharge and instead watched his bonded go up to his crystals, looking them all over critically before grabbing a few of them.
“Those don’t work either,” he muttered once Drift was close enough.
His conjunx smiled at him. “If you say so, but these are my most positive crystals and each one has some form of healing property to them. There’s nothing to worry about with these near you.”
Ratchet grumbled nonsense under his breath and Drift snickered softly. He leaned over and pulled the blankets up a bit and readjusted them around Ratchet’s frame once he’d set the crystals up in very specific places.
“Hush, let me dote on you.”
Ratchet grumbled some more, but wriggled into the pillows and blankets even more. He knew he should probably leave space for his main vents to pull in fresh air, but he didn’t particularly care. As soon as Drift wasn’t paying him such close attention, he was going to down the heavy duty cold medicine he’d snagged out of the medbay. And by snagged, he meant the stuff Aid had forced him to take on his way out.
Drift’s back was turned and he hummed a bright tune while stirring something on their stove top. Ratchet didn’t know what it was. He didn’t know if he wanted to know what it was. It wasn't that Drift was a terrible cook. The opposite was true actually. It was just that he’d picked up cooking when he was with the Circle of Light and they didn’t have normal food for some unknown reason.
Whatever it was he was making smelt nice at least. Ratchet felt his tanks rumble at him and he waited until Drift grabbed a few dishes and was focused on pouring stuff out to take the medicine Aid had given him. It was horrible. It was always horrible and it made his helm a little dizzy.
“Alright, you better not complain about this.” Drift said and walked over to the berth. He’d snagged a chair at some point and Ratchet shifted to sit up a bit better. Cool air met his heated plating and made him shiver.
“What is it exactly?” Ratchet asked, pulling one of the softer blankets back up to his shoulders.
“Wing taught me how to make it, said it was a great cold remedy.” Drift had that wistful and slightly sad look on his face again.
Ratchet grunted and waited for Drift to place the tray over his lap before he picked up a spoon and took a sip. It wasn’t bad. Honestly, it was probably the best thing Drift had ever made. Ratchet wondered if that might have just been because the chemoreceptors in his mouth were all messed up.
“Well?” Drift shifted forward, a bright smile on his face.
“It’s not bad even if it won’t do anything but fill my tank.” Ratchet grumbled and ate another spoonful.
Drift’s laugh was light and happy. “We’ll just see. I’m sure it’ll help you more than you know.”
Ratchet cracked a grin for his mate. “Yeah, we’ll see I guess.”