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In all his functioning, Ratchet has seen the worst. The most emotional moments, good and bad. He's seen the wide range of patient reactions to loved one's reactions. Over the millennia, he's cultivated a response to practically every conceivable feeling that he would have to deal with. He can handle a loved one spitting threats, he can handle the sobbing at the berth-side, he can handle the collapse from grief or relief.
As Jazz would say, it's an occupational hazard.
Having Megatron stalk around his medi-bay waiting is something else entirely. Not just because the mech is supposed to be some un-feeling monster.
It's mainly that.
It's mainly that Ratchet is seeing with his very own optics Megatron worried. Which is not an emotion that the mech has ever exhibited. Not even when his arm was blown off to the point where spark-light was showing.
Yet, here Megatron is, haunting his medi-bay because Sunglider decided to blow themselves up for the countless time. At least this time, Sunglider actually commed him. Normally the idiot just handles it themselves. Certified medic with a 'turbo healing factor' or not, they're reckless and need help from time to time.
As he completes another circuit of pacing, Megatron throws a nasty look over at Ratchet.
Ratchet is unaffected. Which disturbs Megatron. Good. Ratchet doesn't know how or why he heard about Sunglider's little accident—though he has a sneaky suspicion the answer lies in the air vent that made noise a bit ago—and since Sunglider is still in stasis, Megatron gets to wait outside their room.
Megatron can get as huffy as he wants, Ratchet's not letting him in anyone's medical room without their consent. Even then, he'd advise against it. The mech is a stressor of untold proportions.
A terminal pings and Ratchet enters Sunglider's room right as they yank out the medical jack.
"I really dislike it when you do that," he grumbles, grabbing the now drooping cord to loop it back around its machine.
"I really dislike it when you jack in," Sunglider, predictably, responds.
It's a well driven argument between the two of them, and given that Megatron is already grinding his gears, he lets it go. He makes do with the scanner, telling Sunglider what they already know.
Most of their front plating is scorched to the Pits and back, but healing at their normal rate. They'll be perfectly fine come tomorrow. If Sunglider actually drinks the medi-grade energon and rests, they might actually be done by tonight. But Sunglider suffers from moronic tendencies that encourage disregarding their physical health.
That too is a well driven argument.
"Another thing," he starts before Sunglider can try and get off the berth.
Sunglider grunts, rotating an ankle joint.
"First, why is Megatron in my waiting room?" Sunglider's optics pop open. "Secondly, how do I get him to leave? I'd like not to physically—"
"Why can't he see me? I'm allowed visitors."
"—throw him out but I'd do it as he's a bother…" The two stare at each other. "You want to see him?"
"Well, I'm allowed visitors."
The two stare some more.
"Do you want to see him?"
"Yes…? How long as he been waiting?"
"Since you were brought in. Came busting in here, startled First Aid so bad he fell. And then he continued to terrorize him in order to see you." Ratchet scoffs.
"Oh."
Ratchet's helm tilts as he processes.
Despite everyone else being surprised that Megatron showed up, Sunglider isn't. Which just confirms the fact that the two know each other. Somehow. That's not good. Truthfully, Ratchet's surprised that Sunglider would allow anything between the two to get to the point where Megatron is in waiting rooms for them. With how protective and secretive they are over their outlier ability, Megatron is one of the top mecha for them to avoid lest he gets ideas.
"Are you… sure you want to see him?"
"No, Ratchet, I'm fucking lying to you— yes, of course I want to see him."
Ratchet pulls over a stool, making it obvious that this is a conversation that Sunglider can't slip out of like they are want to do. "How do you two know each other?"
Sunglider's face scrunches. "That's pertinent how?"
Ratchet uses their own tactic against them— he silently waits. This time, he'll win. He can out-stubborn them no matter how much of a twist in the tailpipe they can be; he has millions of years on them.
Eventually, after several minutes of glaring, Sunglider breaks. "I presented my findings on my improved energon refineries and Megatron had more follow-ups than the time allowed. So we took fuel together after."
It all sounds rational. It is rational for two mecha to do. When the mecha aren't Megatron, who doesn't know how to act in polite society and Sunglider, a loner of epic proportions that chooses not to deal with conversations— oh. Ratchet is now realizing that the two outcomes of them meeting is death and untold property damage or them getting along like a fire in a fuel depot. Clearly, the latter happened. Which doesn't make it any better.
"And you're… friends now?"
"Yes. We are friends. Which is why he's waiting to see me. He's pestering my comms, can you just let him in?"
Ratchet sighs, and does just that.
Megatron quite literally pushes past Ratchet to get in the door faster. He then ignores Ratchet's affronted noise. He ignores Ratchet entirely— Megatron goes straight for Sunglider's berth.
Ratchet watches in real time as Megatron visibly takes in their battered frame, looking stricken for a moment before a harsh scowl covers it. He takes a knee at their berth side.
"Hey," Sunglider softly calls, smiling up at him.
"You stress me out," he states, quoting Sunglider.
Then, he carefully picks up Sunglider's servo—since that servo remains relatively unscathed, Ratchet doesn't immediately bite his helm off about it—and lays a kiss to the back of it.
Ratchet wonders if he's in some sort of alternate reality.
One where Megatron delivers forms of affection and where Sunglider accepts them. Sunglider's touch averse as all get out, and right now, injured and in a hospital, Megatron is allowed to touch them.
Friends his entire alcohol stash.
The mech keeps the servo held in his, leaning his cheek against where he kissed as they continue to stare at each other. Lovingly. All on its own, his processor starts a debate on grabbing Megatron by the neck and throwing him out. But right now, as Megatron apparently frets over them, Sunglider is still on the berth.
If Megatron cares about them… perhaps Ratchet doesn't have to argue with them about staying while they heal.
Ratchet doesn't like this new reality, and he certainly doesn't trust Megatron, but he can use this.
"Sunglider's going to stay under observation for the night," he announces. While Sunglider scowls at him, Megatron doesn't bother to look. "Visiting hours end in a bit, and you'll be able to return in the morning."
"Ratchet, I don't need—"
"How early?"
"Oh-eight hundred."
While Megatron sighs, he doesn't put up an argument. "I'll be back in the morning, I promise."
"We'll decide in the morning," Ratchet follows.
Megatron nods, and then starts stroking Sunglider's servo with his thumb. "Come now, I'll bring those energon gushers that you like."
Sunglider still doesn't look happy.
"They'll be pure energon." He then presses another kiss to their servo. "And crusted with copper too. You like that." Megatron then kisses their palm. "Do I have to add in your favorite coolant pouches too?" A kiss to their wrist, now.
Ratchet leaves. He doesn't need to see any of that.
A gaggle of doctors are congregating around the circulation desk, alternating between looking at him and trying to peer into the room.
"What's all this?" he grumbles.
"So, like." First Aid bounces on the tips of his pedes. "You know…"
"You're gonna have to use your words."
Hook, arms crossed and hip cocked, bluntly goes, "they're fucking right?"
Ratchet needs to retire.