rekindleme | somebody ever tell you that you were worth nothin'

Who: Fulcrum & Ratchet
Where: Ratchet's super amazing room of sunshine and fun.
When: 6/26
Summary: Fulcrum can't get one last dent out of his back, so reluctantly he goes crawling back to Ratchet.
Warnings: Sad lonely alien robot hijinks

It's taken a lot of hemming and hawing and reluctance on his part. It has less to do with the fact that Ratchet is an Autobot and honestly a lot more to do with the whole aspect of the doctor... thing. It's different with Spinister since he knows him better, and the fact that he had removed his payload. He can trust Spinister. He can trust his immediate personal circle.

This takes a lot of personal pushing on his own part and he kind of really, really hates it. He hates he has to do this. He thinks about things he wishes he could forget, but.

Well, that's the way of things and he's not the only one with personal trauma. He needs to remind himself of that and just suck it up.

With a regretful sigh, he finally knocks on the door Ratchet directed him to.

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If he could watch Ratchet's work, he'd probably be impressed. Rather, if he could stand to watch. Maybe there'll be a time in which he isn't so fearful.

Today is not that day.

"That's how I'd prefer to feel about it, too. You, uh. You wouldn't think so, but we found an Autobot once. On Clemency." The one Krok didn't shoot. "I said... we should help him. Because the war was over. I'm not trying to score any points with you, but that's just. That's how I feel about this. If it's really over, then I didn't see any reason why we should do anything other than that."

Ratchet finishes the last weld and snorts a little, standing up. He touches light fingers to the side of Fulcrum's head and pushes, nudging him gently.

"I think we've already well-established you're not trying to score any points with me, kid," he says, packing away the last of his tools. "You're done. Just don't be too rough on that leg or that shoulder for a while as they finish setting."

The contact makes him jerk upright and he scoots off of the berth abruptly, almost skittish.

"What gave you that idea? All of my glorious snark or was it when I was rude as hell or both?" Fulcrum asks wryly. "But I'll be careful, if I can be. Trust me, I'm not super thrilled with getting into trouble."

Fulcrum's shoulders sink a little. "Sorry for all of the chatter. Usually if I don't, well..."

Then it's whimpering and maybe a lot of crying involved. Words are easier and slightly more dignifying.

Ratchet's optics glint appreciatively.

"I've had worse patients." Ratchet snorts a laugh. "I've had worse patients this week. Your crewmates are complete headcases. Misfire was impossible."

That makes Fulcrum chuckle quietly, his hand raising to cover his mouth. "That's not entirely shocking. I mean... Spinister's always been a little, um. Paranoid and trigger happy, but he's honestly not so bad after he gets used to you. Misfire's... Misfire. He's always been kind of impossible."

"I don't think Spinister wants to get used to me," Ratchet mutters, shaking his head. "Which would suit me just fine, if we weren't all crammed in here together. It's not like we're going to be able to avoid each other, not really."

"Maybe not, but I think in time, maybe he will. I wasn't sure if he'd ever like me, but he can adapt." Fulcrum rubs the back of his neck. "And-- well. I. There-- there are people I'd like to avoid." He looks a little glum saying that, but continues with, "But the reality is that I think you're right."

Ratchet makes a disgusted, frustrated sound, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly.

"Look, Magnus--I don't know what you know about Ultra Magnus, or what you've heard, or if you've met him here or whatever. But he's our acting captain right now, and he's--" Ratchet hesitates, not sure how to phrase this to Fulcrum, of all people, not sure even why he wants to. "He's a good mech--better than most--and he's fair even if it kills him. He doesn't approve of people being beaten up for no reason, regardless of affiliation, and I don't think he'll just let Chromedome slide."

"Ultra Magnus. Mr. I Hunt Down Decepticons and No One Ever Sees Them Again?" He gives Ratchet an even flatter look, demanding with a bit more force in his voice, "And what did he do when Chromedome attacked Krok? What did he do about that, Ratchet?"

Fulcrum can't even focus on himself. When it comes to the others, though, all bets are off. He doesn't even care how weak he is.

"I'm sorry. I know it's not your fault, but I think you're the only Autobot who cares about this."

"Look, we don't exactly have a brig we can throw him in, all right?" Ratchet says sharply, sounding frustrated. "We're working on it--we just got here, too. But I'm not the only one who cares."

"That's really helpful to know after he decided to drag me down an alleyway and start beating me," he responds, voice lower and calm. They've had a similar fight before, and Fulcrum's not eager to tackle it again. "I appreciate the thought, but I'm skeptical. Hard not to be."

Ratchet opens his mouth to argue again... then stops, closing it and shaking his head.

"Can't exactly blame you," he says, sounding worn.

"I figured you'd understand. I don't know if Chromedome's your friend besides your crewmate. It's a tough spot." Fulcrum shrugs a little, looking away. "If one of mine did that to one of yours without any real reason, it'd be a difficult position. But right now, there's... not a whole lot being done. There probably won't be anything, and I won't be surprised about that."

He sighs. "I don't want there to be any fighting whatsoever. I just wanna live quietly. I want them to be safe. You get that. Maybe the other Autobots will eventually, too."

"Most of us do," Ratchet says, folding his arms. "I don't know what crawled up Chromedome's tailpipe and died, but--we don't want a fight either, not really. No point, now."

"Then I hope he gets the sense knocked to him -- figuratively speaking, I meant mostly, but I am not opposed to literal -- so this doesn't happen again. If anything happens to Krok, Spinister, or Misfire because of him, I--"

He'd do what? Fulcrum's not the violent type, but he'd figure out something. He'd figure it out, quickly and cleverly, and leave it as that. He's not a brute, but he would think of something.

But better not to.

"I just hope it doesn't," he ends with that, softly.

"That's what I meant," Ratchet says, his optics sharp on Fulcrum's face. "About incentive."

"I hope it doesn't, too."

An uncomfortable noise is emitted in response. Fulcrum isn't thrilled to talk about his thoughts and feelings on this topic.

"Thank you, by the way. For helping us. Krok especially. I... should probably show myself out?"

Unless Ratchet needed anything else.

"Yeah, go on," Ratchet says, jerking his head at the door. "And I won't tell Krok if he doesn't ask."

"Thank you. If he asks, I'll. I'll just be truthful, too. But seriously, he worries enough about the rest of us."

Krok needs to learn how to worry about himself, for crying out loud.

"Thanks again, Ratchet."

Fulcrum shuffles off to leave the room.

somebody ever tell you that you were worth nothin'

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