Chapter Text
Megatron tried to sit up, only to fall back against the pillows at his helm. The voices were still quietly discussing him and he was growing increasingly nervous. It didn't help that his fusion cannon had been removed from his arm while he had been recharging.
It should have made it feel lighter, but both arms felt weak and heavy.
Everything felt weak and heavy.
"Great! You're awake," Ratchet grinned at the former warlord as he approached his berth. "How are you feeling?"
Megatron raised an optic ridge at him and then turned his face away, servo rising towards his helm as his intakes hitched and his optics half-shuttered.
He was handed a rag and helped into a sitting position.
"Here. I always find sneezing uncomfortable when I'm reclining."
It was unpleasant either way.
"Ksssschhhh! Ksshhh-kshoooooooooooschhh! Ksssschhh! Kssshoooooooooooschh!"
He groaned when the sneezes – which could have been mistaken for detonations – subsided and scrubbed first at his nose and then his optics with the rag.
"You shouldn't do that, Megatron. That's how you get infected optics. Here. One rag for the nose and one for the optics. And bless you, by the way."
He sniffled and blew his nose. "Bless...?"
"It's a thing humans say. I think it just means: 'I hope you soon feel better' or 'I hope you're not getting sick'. A lot of humans seem to say it after a sneeze."
He shrugged and leant back against his pillows. "Why copy them, if you don't even know what it means?"
"Because we share a base with them. We share their world, too. Learning their ways is just good manners."
He shrugged again and shivered. Why did moving his shoulders make him feel as if he were freezing to death?
"I s- sup- p- pose so."
Ratchet frowned. "Cold? Here..."
A warm blanket was draped about his shoulders and he pulled it close with shaking servos.
"You didn't answer my question: 'how are you feeling?'"
He sniffled and gave his nose another blow. He considered the action rude but didn't care under the circumstances. Ratchet was being far too cheerful and he was irritable.
"You want a list of complaints? Very well... sore vocaliser, helmache, itchy... sore... uncomfortable nose, optics won't remain in focus..."
That was just the symptoms above his shoulders!
"... Would you like me to continue?"
Ratchet nodded. He had taken a data pad from somewhere and was busy writing on it.
"I feel as though I've been doused with icy water. I'm freezing! My pedes ache. My arms ache. I feel as though I have been testing my endurance for days, if not weeks... and I am utterly miserable. I am not accustomed to sickness. I can count on one servo the number of occasions I have been forced to take a day or two off of work in the past few billion–"
"Well, you're sick now," the irritating medic interrupted. "You need to rest. I'll give you something for the pain and we'll see how you respond to a hot pede soak. It might help you to feel warmer and should help the aches. It's a human remedy, but it seems to work. Sparkplug recommended it."
A human remedy? For bots? Surely, it would never work! And who was this 'Sparkplug'? A new medic? Why would Ratchet even listen to him?
Megatron glanced about them. Soundwave and Starscream still appeared to be in recharge, in spite of his violent sneezing.
Well... at least that meant he could let down his guard. Somewhat.
"I have another complaint: I have no idea where the washrack is and I was told that we would have easy access."
"You need it again already? I only just gave you something to use before you went into recharge."
He twisted his dermas at the memory. "Yes... that was very kind of you."
"You were in obvious discomfort and it was a sample I had on my list. I was being neither 'kind' nor 'unkind'. I was doing my job. Stop making such a fuss! Come on, I'll show you where it is," Ratchet helped the larger mech to his pedes, took charge of his IV stand and started to act as guide. "I guess it isn't surprising that you want to go again so soon," he mused. "That sample I took was mostly unprocessed coolant."
He stared at the medic at his elbow. "It was what?"
"The stuff your medbay was equipped with is of a poor standard. I imagine it takes a lot of it to even make a dent in a bot's heightened temperature and it looks as though it doesn't agree with your systems, so you've been rejecting it straight to the jettison tank. If you weren't taking anti-sickness, it's highly probable that you'd have attempted to purge it, even though you were getting it straight into your coolant line instead of ingesting it."
Well... that explained the nausea and urgent washrack visits – for both himself and Starscream, most likely.
He grimaced. "And you could tell all of that from one measly test."
"It's why we do them. I already told you: I'm not cruel. I do what I have to do. Here we are. I'll wait out here and then escort you back. Take your time."
Megatron quietly thanked him and did as directed.
He was grateful for this small mercy – easy access to facilities. This was new to him – even when unwell previously, his will had been more than sufficient to keep his jettison systems in check. Now, they were most assuredly in charge and he hated it.
"So... want to tell me what all this is really about?" Ratchet asked when he emerged back into the corridor.
"All what?"
"Coming here. Claiming to want protection. Claiming to want peace. What's really going on?"
"You are too prejudiced to understand it."
"I'm not prejudiced!"
He raised an optic ridge at him. "You don't even see it, do you? Too set in your ways. As I was."
"I tell you I'm not prejudiced. And I don't appreciate your comparing yourself with me like that."
"No," he said in a bored tone. "You wouldn't."
Ratchet grumbled. "Fine. Antagonise me. Just keep in mind who it is that's in charge of your treatment."
"I thought you said you are not cruel."
He growled under his breath. "Let's just get you back in berth. I'd love to know what Optimus is thinking, because I don't see how your staying here is going to work."
"It might work very well, once I am feeling more myself," Megatron retorted. "I can't help being irritable. I am unused to being unwell."
Ratchet snorted and shook his helm.
"I've seen what you're like when you're 'more yourself', Megatron. Excuse me if I don't hold out much hope."
"How nice. It's nice to see that you're not prejudiced."
"Megatron. Shut up."
He mimed zipping his dermas and tossing away the key.
Then he smirked to himself.
Irritating Autobots had yet to lose its charm.
All the same, a hot pede soak did sound good.
Which bot was Sparkplug? Would he be expected to thank him, if the treatment proved helpful?
They fell into step, Ratchet easily matching his slow, shuffling plod as he again took charge of the IV stand.
"Who is Sparkleplug?" Megatron asked after a long moment.
"Sparkplug. It's a car component – he's a human mechanic and that was his nickname. Probably because he's good with cars."
Megatron stopped walking. "You take medical advice from a human? How are you all still functional?"
"Actually, humans are pretty good with machines. Even living ones, like you and me. Got some funny ideas about our anatomy, maybe, but once they get to know us..."
"What 'funny ideas'?"
Ratchet chuckled. "Well... a lot of them think we should just take on fuel directly into our lines and that we shouldn't care about stuff like flavours... then there's the old 'bots don't sleep or need to relieve themselves'..."
"Pfft!"
"Sparkplug and his son were never like that. They settled in with us pretty well and always enjoyed looking after us – Sparkplug knows about water proofing metals with waxes, for example. Speaking of, I should probably treat your metal before I give you that pede soak."
Megatron was guided to a chair in his room. Then Ratchet applied a rub of sorts to his plating. It felt... well, it was not unpleasant.
Neither was the soak that followed. It was strange, but soothing. Megatron found himself blinking wearily as he attempted to remain alert.
"You asked me what was going on," Megatron said quietly. "I realised, Ratchet, that I cannot go on forever. I also have come to see that Optimus is not his predecessors; if we are to achieve peace, he is our best bet. I... I am fearful of who may come after him, but I trust him. I hope the treaty will safeguard the future, when he and I are but names."
The medic stared at him. "So... what was all the fighting about? Why have you tried to kill us all in the past?"
"Anger... revenge..." he shrugged and shook his head. "I regret much, but I cannot undo it."
"You... regret...?"
He frowned at Ratchet, dim optics narrowing. "Don't you? Don't we all?"
He nodded slowly, taking a step back.
"I've got another call to make. I'll get Sparkplug to look after you for a minute."
He what? A human! How was a human going to 'look after him', exactly?
Megatron frowned at Ratchet's retreating back. Why was he running away? Was he scared of him?