Tagged with #compassionatemedicalofficer
-“Think I’m in cold storage or at least I hope I am.”- He pings First Aid with his location, -“Don’t mean to rush you, but I’m in a pretty rough state…”-
First Aid grumbles something about being rushed and its unimportance to this situation. “Oh, you’re still there. That’s good, that’s really good,” he calls out loud now, jogging across the medbay and through a door to the extension - cold storage, he’d put Red Alert there not too long ago. Or did he?
Shaking his head, First Aid keys open the lock and - ah, there’s Rewind, in all his…. glory.
First Aid remembers putting him in there. First Aid does not remember him being blown to smithereens.
Only flustered for a moment, he drags the levitating gurney out, his visor bright with hope for the cassette. “Hello, Rewind! It’s First, and I’ll be your primary physician today,” he jokes lightheartedly, already setting his…. mangled frame on the operating berth, scurrying around and preparing drips and machines and scanners.
“So,” he says, taking a deep vent. “How’s it feel to come back from death?”
The fluorescent lights sting his optics and causes a fresh wave of pain to course through his processor, but none of that matters because he was back- not jettisoned out into space with that monster, but staring up at the friendly face of their ship’s medic.
“It’s not something I plan to make a habit of.” He laughed, his smile peeking out from behind his cracked faceplate, “I just- I can’t believe I’m back. “
Despite his injuries, Rewind’s excitement got the better of him and he props himself up on his good arm, soaking in his surroundings until a dizzy spell hits him and he flops back down on the gurney, offering a goofy grin up at First.
“I think, when I get better…I’m going to hold a movie night at the bar- All drinks’ll be on me.”
Yes, everything will be fine, everything will be okay.
Tagged with #excursionistonwheels
“Don’t apologize. It’s okay, Rewind,” the small truck responds soothingly. “We’re going to figure this out, and get you some help. You’ll be fine, okay?”
Pipes vents deeply. Okay. That… sounds weird, he can’t recall Rewind ever having been in a cell with Overlord. He does know that Rewind had been kept in the medbay, seeing as he was very sick. He could be anywhere now, but maybe it’s safe to assume that he’s where he was left. After all, Pipes knows that other mechs that have come back from the dead have woken up in their coffins…
“Rewind—do you—I think you might be in cold storage. Can you get out? Or raise a medic? I’m sorry, I can’t do much from where I am except maybe comm someone for you, but I will if you need me to!” If Rewind is hurt, and badly so, then Pipes knows he might not have much time.
He’s damned if he’s going to lose his friend again.
The comm line went silent, interrupted only by the cassette’s labored vents, as he groped about in the darkness. His fingers dragged against the confines of his prison, fruitless in their search.
He felt his hope dwindling; maybe it had been too much to hope that he was back on the lost light. He was about to give up when his hand comes across what felt like the seams of a door.
He give an experimental push, but the exertion is too much for him to handle in his state and he slumps back down, exhausted.
“I think I feel a door, but I can’t open it.” His intakes were becoming labored, his voice laced with static, “Too exhausted, losing feeling in my arm.”
The energon lost was starting to finally take its toll on the minibot’s system.
“I’ve already commed, First. I don’t think-“ He vocalizer shorts out and he reboots it, continuing, “I don’t think I’ll be able to talk much longer, getting a little light-headed. Please contact Chromedome for me. Tell him I’m alive. Tell him that I’m going to be fine and not to worry and that I love him.”
He reset his vocalizer in a pitiful attempt to hide the way his voice hitched, “I would contact him myself, but I probably don’t sound so great over the comm, he’ll just worry himself sick.”
“And would you also mind contacting Eject- I think whatever happened is interfering with our bond, I can feel Blaster, but I can’t feel him.”
Tagged with #excursionistonwheels
Pipes vents deeply. Okay. He’s talking to a mech he thought was dead—and, given the current state of the multiverse, might have been dead, but right now, Rewind is alive. He’s alive, and he’s hurt, and he needs help. There’s not a lot Pipes can do from where he’s trapped, but he willdo what he can.
“It’s okay. I’d be freaking out, too. Just listen to me, okay? Concentrate on my voice. First of all, you should contact a medic. Here.” He pings Rewind with Ambulon, Ratchet, and First Aid’s comm frequencies. He’s not sure if Rewind is still on the Lost Light, but contacting the medics might still be important.
“Can you describe your surroundings to me? Do you know if you’re still on the Lost Light, Rewind?”
“Dark, cold-“ He shifts, wincing with every movement, as he attempted to get a feel of his surroundings, “-cramped; nothing too unbearable, I’ve worked in achieves far worse.” He said with a small smile in his voice.
“As for my location…”
Had pipes asked a few minutes ago, Rewind would have been able to answer in confidence, but now memories flitted through his processor, memories that felt so real he couldn’t write off as a hallucination brought on by his distorted processor.
He shifts again and-oh, primus- he was positive that his fuel tank just fell out with a sickeningly, wet plop.
“I’m not so sure -“ he replied through clenched denta as he shoved whatever it was back into his body, “I remember being back in the lost light’s medbay, but I was also trapped in a cell with Overlord-“
“I’m sorry,I just- I think I might be glitching.”
Tagged with #excursionistonwheels
“Here?” Pipes immediately looks around, but he’s alone in the closet, as he expected. He examines the frequency of Rewind’s comm, as well, but he can’t accurately determine whether or not Rewind is in the same dimension he is. “I’m… I don’t think we’re near each other, Rewind. Are you okay?”
He sits up straight. That had been his voice, all right. Primus, Rewind is alive. He’s alive! “Do you know where you are?”
When asked if he was okay, Rewind responded with a small laugh that teetered on the edge of panic.
“No, not really. I’m currently down to one limb, I’m sitting in a puddle of my own fluids, and I have no earthly idea where I am- I mean, one minute there I was staring Overlord right in the optics and then the next thing I know I’m in a box talking to a mech that, just hours ago, was—“
He shook he head, unable to finish his sentence. The image of his fallen friend was still fresh in his mind and to be talking to him again, real or not…
“I’m sorry, Pipes, I’m just… I’m kinda freakin’ out.”
Tagged with #excursionistonwheels #((Oh god Pipes stuck in the closet...I can't...))
There isn’t much to do when you’re trapped in the closet. Pipes has spent his days intermittently drifting off into recharge and scanning the comm net. There’s enough to keep him from getting mentally distressed, but even so, Pipes has been experiencing a growing restlessness. He was small, but he was still a truck. He had to get out and spin his wheels every once in a while. There isn’t really room to transform in this little closet, though, and he isn’t about to raise any sort of complaint in regards to his treatment to his captors.
So he’s been paying attention to the various communication signals of the comm net moreso than he would usually, catching snatches of conversations between mechs he doesn’t know and has never met. Part of Pipes wants to reach out, to talk to someone… but he’s hesitant. There’s so much that could go wrong. Besides, with Sixshot and Misfire contemplating ransoming him off, getting friendly with anyone now would just put them in a bad situation.
Nevertheless, when he sees a familiar signal quite suddenly pop back up online, Pipes hesitates only a few moments before, incredulously, he sends a tentative ping off.
Primus, it can’t be… “Rewind?” He asks uncertainly. “Is that you….?”
There was a brief moment of radio silence before a hesitant, hoarse voice sounds from the other line.
No, it couldn’t be. Pipes was dead; he had found his friend’s crushed body slumped next to the alarm. He must be hallucinating, this had to be the result of low energon levels or something…
But despite all of that, he responds…
“Oh, Primus. Pipes, what are you doing here?
Tagged with #cynicsurgeon
Rewind had awoken with a start; the shrill alarms of his internal readouts dragged him from blissful nothingness into a world that was too cold, too dark, and oddly smelled of scorched metal. It took him a minute, fighting through the pain-induced hazed, to realize that he was the source of the charred odor.
Well, he thought humorlessly, that explains why my entire frame felt like it was dragged through a smelting pit and back again.
He shifted, wincing with every movement, trying to rearrange himself so the wires in his shoulder weren’t pinching, but unfortunately for him his left arm refused to cooperate.
Subconsciously, he reached over to grab it and—Oh, well, there’s the problem. His entire arm was gone, replaced by a splintered stump.
Rewind had to take a few calming vents to suppress the oncoming panic that was swelling in his frame.
Easy, Rewind, Easy. If Tailgate could keep his cool after losing two legs, you can handle a missing arm. I mean, it’s just an arm, no big deal- who even uses hands anymore? No biggie.
His hand traveled further down and he felt- nothing. He didn’t feel a thing. His entire lower torso had also decided to go AWOL on him.
He withdrew his hand the moment he swore he felt his fuel pump, his only hand clutching at his chest as the memory stick struggled to keep his composure.
He stared at the warnings that littered his HUD, trying to comprehend their meaning, but in his state he only gathers one thing from their frantic wails and that was just how truly and royally slagged he was.
Tagged with #Red Rust Plot
Florescent lights flicker and drone, accompanying the somber choir of the ICU’s medical equipment- the intermittent bars displayed on their screens rising and falling with each weak heave and noisy rattle of the minibot’s vents.
It had been a losing battle; despite the efforts, despite the well wishes, Rewind’s condition continued to decline. It was a miracle that he managed to last this long,
Well, maybe not a miracle…
The bond that Rewind had with Eject and Blaster had helped stabilize his system, had given him this extra time. Rewind had clung instinctively, almost greedily, to the others’ presences. What had once been a source of comfort for the archivist was now a source of energy for a waning spark.
But through the static, through the emptiness, there was something that would emerge for a split second before vanishing- sorrow, fear, and regret.
Whether it was a reflection of Blaster and Eject’s emotions or if it was Rewind’s own emotions dredged up from deep within his own spark? Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore.
Because it becomes too much of an effort now and though he tries to hold on, his exhaustion takes its toll…
His spark gave one last quivering pulse and one by one the tendrils loosened their grip.
Fluorescent lights flickered and droned, accompanied by the frantic wails and cries of the medical equipment; his breath comes in shallow vents, his inner mechanisms slow, but none of this registers in Rewind’s mind.
Had the minibot been lucid, he might have struggled against his approaching demise.
Instead he simply offlined his optics and allowed himself to fade away.
Tagged with #Red Rust Plot #cynicsurgeon
He leaned his head against the glass panel, watching the ‘bot he had cared about the most dying from the inside.
The mnemosurgeon looked up as the fan kicked on again and Rewind stood up.
“Rewind!” he hit the glass, the small Autobot was alive. “Rewind, you’re alive!” he sounded hopeful. but then he noticed the odd way he moved. How there was something ‘off’ about him.
He asked again, carefully, “Rewind?”.
Rewind slowly turned his head to the source of the noise, staring back at the Mnemosurgeon. It was almost uncanny how stock-still the minibot and what was additionally unnerving was the blank gaze that accompanied it.
For a moment it looked like Rewind was just going to stay like that forever, but then all of a sudden Rewind was advancing towards Chromdome, spurred on when the other had called out to him.
He stopped just short of the glass and continued to stare at the other with flickering, lifeless optics.
Tagged with #Red Rust Plot #cynicsurgeon
Chromedomes spark broke as he heard the static filled ‘Thank you’ from Rewind.
Instead of answering he just stood there, sure that if he said something he might break down. Although there were many things he wanted to say to Rewind, which he didn’t say.
It was hard enough to let go he didn’t want to make Rewind’s last moments any less painful.
As Rewind cringed at the pain in his head Chromedome could do nothing, he wanted to ask, to scream but he knew that would all be useless. Instead he just whispered Rewinds name against the glass as if he just saw someone taking their last breath, knowing there was nothing he could do but watch as the last breath left their mouth.
His processor was searing, it felt as if someone was dragging it through the pit and back again. His fingers tightened against his head, his entire body convulsing with each surge of pain. He took a staggering step back before he collapsed to the ground, his vents heaving in his audials, and as his hand fumbles, reaching for anything that he can grip to steady himself, as the world around him starts to dim.
He struggled against the system reboot, but he was already too weak, and after a pitiful fight he finally gave in. The last thing he remembers seeing before it all went dark was the soft, yellow, grief-stricken optics of an unfamiliar mech.
For a second, it looked as if Rewind was no longer functioning, but without warning his fans kick on and he twitches, his system restarting. It took longer than it should, but after a few kliks, Rewind’s visor lights up and he sits up, but there was something seriously off about the minibot. As he stood, his frame’s movements were stiff and mechanical, his visor was dim and it lacked the normal inquisitive glow. Something was wrong.