Work Text:
No one wants Valentine's day shifts, except Ratchet.
Maybe that's a slight exaggeration.
To be fair, not too many folks on duty were really grumbling - though that’s different from wanting a shift.
But Red Alert and Fortress Maximus, who were working security today, seemed as happy as Ratchet ever saw them - so, mostly stoic. Ratchet’s seen them with buttons in aro colors once or twice when the two of them were out of uniform. Ratchet had never worked up the - well, there just hadn’t been a place in their conversations to ask about them, really.
Whirl, on the other hand - who was in and out of the place for sprains and stitches regularly enough, thanks to sparring matches with a supposed ‘frenemy’ - had commented to Max one time, and Max had said it was presents from one of his housemates, to which Whirl had replied, quote, “right on, one of us.”
That was about the closest thing to confirmation that Whirl was aro too. Whirl had been pretty disdainful of the idea of themself and relationships in the same sentence, anyway. Ratchet had run into them on their way out today, and Whirl had excitedly showed Ratchet the bandage over their stitches, as well as pictures of the new pocket watch they’re working on.
Ratchet’s never had a conversation with them that had felt like a place to actually ask for confirmation. They’re prone to opening their mouth at the wrong time, anyway, so. They’re fine leaving it there.
It’s fine. It’s not their business anyway.
It’s just one of those things that makes them think about calling up Ironhide, just to talk. But, of course, each time Ratchet realizes, again, that they don’t have anything to say that’s worth Ironhide listening to.
They had got a call today - well, not to them, Rung had called over to the hospital about one of their therapy patients, they had seemed in perfectly good spirits about being on duty that day. Rung’s mentioned that they’re aro, and they’ve also mentioned their queerplatonic partners once or twice. One of them was also aro, apparently, Night-something, though Ratchet had never met them.
Rung’s nicer than they are, but still. Aside from finding not only one person, but people willing to put up with you for that kind of commitment - where did they find the time? Ratchet had shelved that idea a long time ago, and then shoved it in a drawer when it came back.
Anyway. Velocity - who was also one of Rung’s partners, if they remembered right - was on shift in the hospital today, and she didn’t seem in bad spirits either. So that was something.
But Knockout had been very determined to get as much of the day off as he could to spend with his boyfriend, and Agnodice hadn’t been beating down anyone’s door, but she hadn’t been unhappy to let Ratchet take her shift so she could spend the evening with her boyfriend.
And Ratchet’d had to put up with First Aid’s forlorn moping that she hadn’t been able to swing a date with the girl she’d just met at her gym in time for Valentine’s day.
All that aside, at least they don’t have to be outside the hospital today, and most of the nonsense could be avoided. Last year they had only been on shift the night before and into the morning, and the day itself wasn’t an experience they cared to repeat. This year would have been worse.
It’s snowing when they leave the hospital. Ratchet pulls on gloves to protect their hands.
“Ratchet!”
It’s First Aid, with a red hat and a white scarf pulled over most of her face to protect from the snow.
“It’s miserable out here!” she shouts. “Need a ride? I’m going to my car.”
“It’s fine, I live close,” once again, Ratchet is grateful that they had found a place so close to the hospital. Walking had seemed like a better idea this morning...
But it’s not like this is anything to worry about, it’s a few blocks, and it’s nineteen degrees, it’s not like they have to worry about hypothermia or frostbite. And they’re not going to put First Aid out, she’s a tiny pre-med kid.
What little of First Aid’s face they can see between the hat and the scarf looks skeptical. “You sure about that?”
Ratchet nods. “You drive safe, y’hear?”
“Yeah, yeah,” First Aid waves, and Ratchet begins their walk home.
The wind whistles through the pines, cold air stinging at their face. They pull down their hat tighter and pull their coat as high as it can go over their face. First Aid had the right idea with that scarf.
They’ll be home soon enough. Home, where there’s indoor heating. They can chuck everything on a chair and get their hands warm again with a mug of hot chocolate, preferably with a bit of something stronger added, and then sleep for about a year, because they don’t have a shift until tomorrow evening.
For now, their hands are still far too cold, even in gloves and shoved deep into their coat pockets. They fidget with them, less to stim than to keep them warm. But they can see the lights of their apartment building close at hand, and then, finally, the fucking door.
The elevator can’t go fast enough once they get inside. They slam open the door of their apartment and lock it behind them before tossing their hat on the chair, followed by their jacket, shirt, and compression sports bra - a compromise between dysphoria and a workday that’s way too long for a binder - and immediately pulls on the biggest, softest sweatshirt from their drawer. That's quickly joined by a pair of sweatpants as they finally take off their gloves and head for the kitchen, thinking about skipping hot chocolate entirely and going right for something stronger.
That thought is interrupted by loud banging on their door. Ratchet considers ignoring it, but it starts up again, and they sigh and go to check the door.
They start at seeing Rodimus and Drift on the other side. They open the door. "Please don't tell me you've managed to get yourselves injured, I do not want to know what you've both been up to on today of all days."
"We are here to hang!" Rodimus exclaims. "We brought popcorn and Mythbusters!"
Ratchet's brain has stalled out and for some reason it latches on to that last bit. "You have a DVD player?"
"We brought popcorn and Drift's Hulu login." Rodimus says, waving the bags of popcorn in her hands. “Can we come in?”
Ratchet stares, then nods. "It's after nine pm on Valentine's day,” they say, as Rodimus walks in, “aren't you two supposed to be out for a fancy dinner right about now?"
"After nine?"
"I don’t know, dessert, whatever."
"We had pizza and watched Sailor Moon," Rodimus says. "The very height of romance."
"I know I don’t practice in that field but I'm pretty sure that's not the commonly accepted approach."
“‘Commonly accepted' - that sounds boring. Can’t have that.” Rodimus grins, "Nah, we made our V-day plans for tomorrow. We're gonna grab a bunch of cheap chocolate and go snowboarding," Rodimus adds. That probably isn’t commonly accepted practice either, but is about the most Drift and Rodimus thing Ratchet could possibly have thought of, which makes more sense. "The pizza and Sailor Moon was good though." Rodimus grins, looking at Drift, who grins back.
"We wanted to hang out with you," Drift says, "but we didn't realize you'd scheduled yourself to be on shift all day,"
"So we had to ambush you when you got back, obviously." Rodimus adds.
Ratchet pinches the bridge of their nose. "I'm very tired, did you just say you moved your Valentine's day plans to a day that is not Valentine's day, so that you could instead hang out with me on, again, Valentine's day?"
"Uh, yeah?" Rodimus says, already rummaging in Ratchet's fridge.
"This day kinda sucks for you - don't try to deny it, I heard you complain last year - and. Well. We thought we could make it suck a little less." Drift says.
"If you're not out, shouldn't you be - 'on patrol' or monster hunting or - something? Whatever it is you do with those - things." The 'badges' that a talking black cat had refused to let Ratchet borrow for analysis, and boy wasn't that a sentence they’d never thought they'd have to think. “Your superhero nonsense.” Other people may have used the phrase ‘magical girls,’ but Ratchet will not be repeating that.
"Mags and Megs have it covered."
Ratchet sighs. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"
"Nope!" Rodimus and Drift exclaim in unison. “Not unless you kick us out.”
“You don’t actually want to kick us out, right?” Rodimus checks.
Ratchet sighs. They really don’t. “Stay. Give me the popcorn.”
"We've got regular, caramel, kettle, and - whatever that one is," Rodimus adds, pointing at the alarmingly bright blue popcorn.
“Kettle’s good.” Rodimus tosses it to them, and they grab a handful. It is good.
Drift picks the flower in aro pride colors from the mug by Ratchet's bed and sticks it behind Ratchet's ear. "You're our friend, and you're gonna eat popcorn and watch Mythbusters with us because we want to hang out with you. Deal with it."
Rodimus is already heating up milk for hot chocolate. Ratchet considers getting out something stronger to add to theirs, but decides against it.
"The soy milk's in the d- " Ratchet starts, wanting to make sure there's some for Drift, and then sees Rodimus hold up the carton. "Ah. Don't knock my grocery list off the fridge!" they add, pointing at where the grocery list is held up by a magnet in the shape of a rainbow infinity symbol, even though Rodimus isn't anywhere near it. They turn to Drift, because they'd like to at least pretend this is still their apartment - not that they hadn’t given Drift and Rodimus permission to take free run of their kitchen ages ago, it was easier for the two of them to get their own food while they were patching up the others. "Would you'd like tea instead?"
"Cocoa's good, thanks Ratch," Drift says, already setting up her own laptop and logging in to Hulu.
Well, if the kids are going to run around and do whatever the hell the two of them have decided they're all doing, Ratchet can at least get off their feet. Ratchet grabs one of their pillows and props themself up on their bed, leaning back on the wall facing their desk. Rodimus comes over and sets the mugs of cocoa down on their bedside table."D'you want a hug?" she asks.
The idea of someone's arms around them sounds like way too much right now. "No," Ratchet says, and for once they hardly feel themself brace and bristle for the anticipated reaction when they say it. They don't have to; Rodimus just smiles and nods and grabs a seat next to them on the bed.
Ratchet thinks for a minute. "You can grab more pillows from,” they gesture in the general direction of Rodimus’s apartment - just down the hall, “or you can lean on me, if you want."
"You sure?" Rodimus asks, and Ratchet nods. "Shoulder, or can I use your stomach as a pillow?"
"You're probably mostly laying on my intestine, but sure,"
Rodimus immediately grins and flops over, laying her head on them. "Y're best pillow, Ratch," she mumbles, muffled by their sweatshirt.
"Is it good if I lean on your shoulder?" Drift asks, having finished setting up Mythbusters - it's playing an episode where they're testing the feasibility of Star Wars scenes, apparently.
Ratchet stops and makes themself think for a moment before answering. Rodimus leaning on them is actually far from being a bad sensory experience right now, the weight and warmth is nice. A year ago, the weight would have felt too close to being pinned down again, but now all that's distant enough that it's more like the comfort of their weighted blanket.
Ratchet nods. "Yeah, that'd be good. If you want."
Drift hums happily and curls up on Ratchet's other side.
It's... cozy. Ratchet picks up their mug of hot cocoa and holds it with both hands, enjoying the steady warmth as they sip it carefully and run their thumbs over the smooth ceramic. They watch as Adam and Jamie lay out the design to test Luke and Leia's swing across the Death Star chasm, as Rodimus grabs a handful from one of the bags of popcorn and munches.
Drift hums from their shoulder, where she's testing pieces of the bright blue popcorn with apparent approval. Ratchet sips from the cocoa and keeps running their thumbs over the handle of the mug until they get bored with the texture. They'd grab something else, but the items they usually stim with are over on their desk and they're disinclined to move, especially if it means making Drift and Rodimus move.
They think for a moment, and then make themself ask before they can talk themself out of it. "Rodimus?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I braid your hair?"
"Ooh, yes please."
They set down the mug and run their fingers through Rodimus's hair, starting to gather three bundles without thinking, easing into the satisfying feeling of having something to do with their hands.
Rodimus keeps munching on popcorn, clearly content, and Ratchet feels their shoulders relax. They hardly have to think to start a new braid next to the first, as the tests of Luke’s grappling-hook shot continue on the screen.
By the time Ratchet has finished Rodimus’s second braid, Rodimus has stopped munching on popcorn, instead staying curled up, not even bothering to reach for the popcorn bag. Her breathing has slowed, but her eyes are still half open. They can feel Drift tilt her head to look down, and she gives a small huff of laughter.
“‘M awake,” Rodimus says.
“Worn out by all that Sailor Moon?” Ratchet teases.
“Ngh. You’re just cozy.” Rodimus says, “Best pillow.”
“You’ve said that before.” Ratchet says, amused.
“I stand by it.”
“Seems like you’re not doing much standing,” Ratchet notes.
“She naps by it.” Drift says, teasing.
“Yeah!” Rodimus says, then hastily adds, “Hey! ‘m not asleep.”
Drift and Ratchet both hum in response.
“Pillow.” Rodimus says, stubbornly, and Ratchet can’t help but feel a little extra warm at that.
Ratchet’s all out of Rodimus’s hair to braid, the other side of her head being pressed into their stomach, but they run their fingers over the braids again anyway, appreciating the softness and the texture of the braids on their hand. Rodimus hums.
“Uh. Is this okay?” Ratchet asks.
“Mhm. Yeah.” Rodimus says, sleepily.
Ratchet keeps running their hand over Rodimus’s hair as the Mythbuster team makes the grappling hook shot and begins to test whether the line will hold someone’s weight, and Rodimus’s eyes droop further and further closed.
“How was your day?” Drift asks quietly, as the Mythbusters add a test dummy to see if the hook can hold the weight of two people.
How was Ratchet’s day?
“It was fine.”
Drift hums questioningly. Ratchet keeps fiddling with Rodimus’s hair as Rodimus nods off.
“It was fine.” Ratchet repeats, “No one did anything too stupid for today, at least not that came to us.”
Drift hums questioningly again.
Ratchet sighs. “Work went smoothly. My supervisor seemed pleased enough,” they say, “it wasn’t a bad day.”
“It sounds pretty good.”
“Well, you two showed up,” Ratchet says, fidgeting with a loose strand from one of Rodimus’s braids.
“Really dragged down your day, huh?” Drift teases.
Ratchet smiles, just a little. “You made it alright.”
“Is that a fact?”
“I said what I said.”
Drift chuckles. “So what’s a good day,” Ratchet can hear Drift’s grin even as they can only see the corner of it from their angle, “if this was just alright?”
Ratchet blinks. “I don’t know,” they say, not shrugging only because Drift is on their shoulder, “Could’ve gotten more done at work.” When Drift makes a skeptical noise, they add, “When I’m better at this, I can actually do more, and I won’t need to waste anyone’s time. It’s good to be useful.”
They can feel Drift shake her head. “Every time you catch your breath enough to tell me about your day, the only thing I hear about is work.”
She sounds like she’s teasing, but is there something else in her voice too? Ratchet’s tired, maybe they’re imagining it, it’s not like this is their strong suit.
“Work is most of my time,” Ratchet says, “could tell you about freezing my nose off on the walk back,” they add, rolling their eyes.
“You didn’t drive?”
“It’s blocks away!” Ratchet says, deliberately not mentioning First Aid’s offer.
“You’re impossible.”
“I wasn’t actually going to freeze my nose off.” Ratchet says, grudgingly, “It’s not even close to frostbite temperatures.”
“So you did look at the weather.”
“ You’re incorrigible,” Ratchet says. “And aren’t you going snowboarding tomorrow?”
“I’ll have something properly covering my face.”
“ ‘Sure.’ ”
Drift reaches up and pokes Ratchet’s nose. “No freezing this off.”
“Well damn, I was really planning on it.” Ratchet rolls their eyes.
Drift jabs at them again. “So I’ve got snowboarding. Good day, no work. Go.”
Ratchet boggles. That doesn’t sound like a worthwhile day. Finally, they say the only thing that pops into their head. “I don’t know, sleep.”
“Sleep?” Drift sounds disbelieving and - concerned? Is that what that is?
That was the wrong answer. “I don’t know. Could do this.”
“Watch Mythbusters with us?”
“Yeah.” That sounds pretty alright, actually, as they’re doing it.
“And your first answer was sleep.”
“I mean - what? It’s a weird question. I work. It’s what I do.”
“You know you can kick us out if you really want to sleep.”
Ratchet doesn’t want to kick them out. “No.”
“So…”
Ratchet snorts, “Minimus would probably have something poetic to say about that all. ‘To sleep, perchance to dream,’ or whatever.”
“Hamlet.”
“Huh.”
“You know what that soliloquy is about, right?” That sounds like concern.
“I try to forget high school as much as possible.”
“ I didn’t read it in high school ,”
“Yeah, well,” Ratchet doesn’t ask where Drift read Shakespeare. That seems like how tact works. “You work my schedule and try not feeling like you’d like to sleep a whole day.”
“Okay, fair, but - that’s the first thing that comes to mind for a good day? And the second thing is just what we’re doing now?”
“You don’t think this is good enough?” Ratchet protests. “Sounds like you’re underrating yourself and Rodimus. Not like you.”
Drift pauses at that. “Thanks.”
“You -” Ratchet’s face twists, trying to make the words fit. “It really does help.”
“I’m glad.” Drift says, “I’m just - I’m asking because you’re my friend, and I worry about you.”
“That’s my job.” Ratchet says, “You’re the one that runs around at all hours with a sword, getting yourself all kinds of injuries.” Drift worries too much about them, it’s not like this is the first time...
Drift snorts. “Then quit worrying me. You work until all you can think about is sleep, apparently, and I don’t know if you -” Ratchet can feel Drift shake her head slightly against their shoulder. “C’mon then. A good day. Assuming you’ve already had enough sleep,” she asks.
“I could -”
“And no work. ”
“...You didn’t know I was going to say anything about work.”
“Yes I did. And you knew what I meant already.”
They had been, and they had.
“A third thing. No work. Go.”
Ratchet considers.
“There is a third thing, right?” Drift definitely sounds concerned now.
Sure there is. Just give them a minute. “Why don’t you give three, then? You only said one.”
Drift hums. “Three really good days? Well, snowboarding with Rodimus,”
“Already said,”
“I could go back to Sedona with you, and do more than a morning’s worth of sightseeing. Get in some proper hiking.”
Ratchet hums, feeling suddenly warm.
“Oh, and when we get into spring, going up to Kachina trail - when the wildflowers are out. Or throwing a halloween party again - remember, Percy kept having to explain her costume to everyone. And you ate like, half a bowl of candy corn.”
“Candy corn is good.”
“And you say I spout nonsense.” Drift elbows them in the side. “There we go, that’s four, you got a bonus. What’s your third?”
“The Halloween party was pretty good…”
“Original third, no stealing.”
“I don’t know!” What the hell did that even mean? “I could see Ironhide and Roller, I guess. Wheeljack, Kup…”
“Get the old folks gang back together?” Drift still sounds a little… disappointed? concerned?
Ratchet snorts.
Drift fidgets. “What’s - I don’t know, something that you’re looking forward to next year?”
“Being a year closer to graduation -”
“Come on, you’re avoiding -”
“You’re not - that’s not what you’re talking about. Spit it out,” Ratchet says, “whatever it is, it’s clearly been bugging you for longer than this conversation, and I don’t want you worrying about me, there’s no point.”
Drift takes a breath. “You - do you know what the soliloquy’s about?”
“What?”
“From Hamlet.”
“Did I not just say that I try to forget high school?” Ratchet grumbles. “Don’t quote Shakespeare at me.”
“Hey, you started it.” Drift says, and, well, she has a point.
Ratchet sighs. “Go on then, you’re not going to let up until you’ve explained it.”
“It’s - sleeping, he’s talking about dying.”
“What?”
“He’s talking about whether it is better to - try and work against all his obstacles, to struggle and deal with life, or. Well. End it.”
“Wait, is that what ‘to be or not to be’ means? To live or not to live?” Ratchet wrinkles up their nose.
“Congratulations, you’ve just summarized a high school class period on that monologue.”
“Weird.” Ratchet frowns. “Wait, wasn’t the whole thing about that play that he’s supposed to avenge his dad, and stop his evil uncle taking over?”
“I thought you said you tried to forget high school.”
“I have vague recollections of the Lion King. When I was a kid,” they add.
“They had video back when you were a kid?” Drift teases. “When dinosaurs walked the Earth?”
Ratchet snorts. They’re maybe a bit fond of Drift’s teasing, but she can’t know that.
(She almost certainly does know that, Drift’s sharp like that.)
“So what’s he doing looking to - “ they make a mock choking noise. “He’s got a job to do.”
“See,” Drift says, “that’s one of the reasons I worry about you.”
“What?” Ratchet’s whole face scrunches up at that.
“That’s your response? To why he shouldn’t kill himself?”
“I hardly remember the thing, I don’t know this guy’s problems!”
“Ratchet …”
Ratchet bristles at her tone. “Don’t - don’t do that.”
“What?”
“That voice. Like you’re tiptoeing around me, even I can tell that,” they add sharply. “You shouldn’t worry about me.”
“Why? ‘Cause you’re the only person who gets to worry about people?” Drift says, definitely not tiptoeing. “I’ve got news for you, Ratchet, you’re my friend and I care about you and I’m going to worry about you sometimes and you can’t stop me. And you are worrying me. You have been -”
“It’s not - I’m not -” worth that.
If people are worrying about them, they aren’t doing their job.
“What?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
“What do you -”
“Is that what you think ?” Drift asks, finally, thankfully, bluntly. “That the reason to be is to have a job to do?”
Ratchet …
They know that’s not right. It’s not like they care about their patients’ jobs or lack thereof. “No, of course not. Life’s… life. It’s important.”
“So if you didn’t have a job to do, that’d be alright?”
“Why wouldn’t I have a job to do? I mean, look at -” they wave a free hand, “everything.”
“Just - if you didn’t.”
“I don’t know.” It’s a dumb idea. Like ‘what would you do if you were stranded on a desert island?’ They always hated those kinds of nonsense questions. “Feel useless, probably.”
“Why?”
“ Why?” Ratchet stares. “What's the point of - “ me “if I'm not working, of course I'd feel like I'm useless if I’m not doing something useful?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because it's true!”
“It’s -!” Drift stops, takes a deep breath. “What about - outside of work. Outside of being ‘useful’ -”
Ratchet blinks. “What?”
“You’re more than that.”
“I have to be a doctor.”
“Why?”
Because it’s what I’m good at. Because people need to be helped. Because life is all there is, and saving lives is the most important thing we can do. Because I can help, so I need to. Because if I can help people, I’ll be useful to people, and I won’t be such a burden. Because they need a reason to keep me around.
They realize too late that they’ve been staring off in silence for too long.
“You’d never tell anyone else they had to be useful,” Drift says, “you don’t believe anyone else’s job matters.”
Well that was - other people. Other people weren’t -
I mean, for crying out loud, Drift would never have been friends with them if they hadn't been able to patch her up. So it was stupid to -
They shook their head.
‘If it were anyone else’ - Drift was annoyingly good at coming back to that.
“Ratchet -” Drift starts, but they cut her off before she can finish with something blatantly untrue, like like 'everyone's special, including you’ or ‘you’re just as important and worthwhile.’
“Just - you’re talking in circles. This doesn’t matter, I’m fine.” Ratchet says, “I have a job I like, and I’m good at it. Not many people can say that.”
“I’m not arguing your job,” Drift says. “I’m - this is important, Ratch. I worry about you,” she says again.
Something in their stomach turns. She keeps saying that, and they hate it. They have an uncomfortable feeling they know what Drift’s driving at. “Just - let’s just get this over with. It’s clearly eating at you,” for longer than today, Ratchet would bet, “and it’s stupid.” Ratchet says. “Just - ask me what you want to ask.” Hopefully, finally, she’ll spit it out. Drift will ask the stupid question, and Ratchet will say no, because that’s the answer , and then they can just go on with it, and Drift can stop worrying about them, which is stupid anyway.
“Ratchet…” Drift hesitates, and then asks the question Ratchet’s been expecting. “Do you - want to die?”
Ratchet knows she means 'do you want to kill yourself,' and their stomach turns over again, "No." They don’t. They would never.
Drift nods, considers, and then, inconveniently, starts again, tentatively, "But if you - couldn't work at the hospital, would - "
This is not what ‘getting it over with’ sounds like. "No, I wouldn't do that." Ratchet says. "No."
"Do you - do you ever want to be dead? Or - just feel like it wouldn't be so -"
wouldn’t be so bad "Well, they'd have to replace my shifts if I was dead, for one." Ratchet says. "I have work to do, of course it would be bad if I was dead." Do you ever want to be dead - What does that even mean? wouldn’t be so bad - it was the absence of life, so of course it was bad. And it’d be bad if they were dead, because they had something people needed them to do with their life. Not just their shifts now , they were going to be a Doctor the rest of their life.
"But -"
"Everyone thinks that sometimes -" okay, a lot, "- every med student, hell, every grad student - every undergrad jokes, y'know, exams next week, it'd be easier if I were, y’know," It’s not like they even joke about as much as some people do, they know the work is important, so it’s okay if it’s hard. They don’t need to whine, or escape.
Exams were something they had to do, at least. Better than not having-
"Ratch," Drift says, "You know you don't sound like joking."
"Yeah, well, I'm tired. Inflections, and -"
"It's not that -"
"Of course I think about death sometimes, you've seen my job, do you think I don't - " They know what death is like, that’s part of why they know not to glamorize it, why they hardly joke about it. They know how much life matters.
That’s why they only think about their own death if dying could preserve someone else’s life. And if they think about that a lot, that’s fine. That's the kind of work and life they chose.
That’s fine to think about.
It has to be.
"What about if you couldn't work at -"
"Do you know something I don't?" Ratchet snorts. "are they planning to kick me out?"
"But -"
"No, I wouldn't - I wouldn't want to be dead." Ratchet says, "This is stupid, I'm fine -" they are fine, they just want this to be over.
"Do you want to be alive?"
No.
"What kind of question is that?” It’s a stupid question. ‘Be alive’ - why would they - that doesn’t matter. “I'm fine. I get out of bed, I do my job. I'm not going to do anything stupid."
"Is your job why you get out of bed?" Drift says, "You don't want to get up and -"
"So what if it is? You get up to go to class, don't you?"
"That's not what I mean," Drift says. "Yeah, I set an alarm, but - doing a job isn't living, Ratchet. And if you feel like you're worthless if you're not doing your job -"
"It's not -"
"Ratchet." Drift says, "If you weren't - doing the work you're doing - would you really want to be alive?"
From the way Drift asks it, she thinks there should probably be a loud voice ringing out yes!
There isn't.
The yawning void of living without being useful, living like this, exhausted, with nothing to compensate for it, seems to stretch out before them. The points of contact with Drift and Rodimus - part of them wants to hang on to them, desperately. But part of them wishes they were untethered, so they wouldn’t feel guilty, so they could -
Rest.
They're so tired.
Oh.
That’s -
Ratchet shakes their head, just slightly, makes a faint shrugging gesture.
"That's not great, is it." they say, unable to muster up emotion in their voice.
Someone else might have sat up so they could stare at Ratchet, and said something like 'look at me', which had to be in Ratchet's top ten least favorite phrases.
Drift just tilts her head up to bump her head lightly against Ratchet's chin.
“Hey,” she says, “The first step is to know that, okay? Yeah, it’s not great. But whatever keeps you attached to being alive, right now, that's good. ‘Cause as long as you're here, we're doing okay," she says. "I - " she starts, and trails off for a moment. "I know how it feels to not be attached to being alive. To not - " she trails off again.
Ratchet doesn't know what to say, so they carefully reach out and put a hand on Drift's arm.
"Anything that can get you through that - it means you're still here. And that's good." Drift says.
"Drift -" Ratchet starts, "I - I'm glad you're still here too." They say it, and they know it sounds stilted coming out of their mouth, but it's true.
Drift presses her head more closely into Ratchet's shoulder. "Thanks,” she says, “I know how…well. I know how it is, so I know it can get better. And I hope knowing helps you find a way to get better,” she continues, “I hope someday you get to want to be alive just to be alive. So your life isn't - conditional." She bumps her head against Ratchet's chin again. "Because your life is worthwhile, Ratchet. Even if you never work another day in a hospital."
Something in Ratchet just seems to sag and shrink from that, disbelieving, in a way they can't quite put into words.
Drift reaches over and pats Ratchet's hand where it's still on her arm. "Trust me, Ratchet. You're still worthwhile even if you just watch Mythbusters and eat popcorn."
"I - don't joke."
"I'm not joking." Drift says. "Would you say it about me?" she asks, "I -"
"I - yes of course I would!" Ratchet says, the words tumbling out of their mouth before Drift can even finish.
"See?" Drift says, "If you can say that about me, you can say that about yourself."
"I - " Ratchet stutters, "it's not -"
"Yeah," Drift says, softly, "I know. But I'll say it about you, if that's any help. Not," she adds, "that I expect you to trust my judgement," she teases.
"I -" Ratchet starts. There are plenty of things they don’t trust Drift’s judgement on. This isn’t one they can bring themself to doubt, not for the sincerity in Drift’s voice, not for how much they trust her, when it comes down to it. Even if they can’t quite believe what she says in their gut. "It helps. A lot."
"That's good."
"You can't just eat popcorn, though," they grumble. "You'll get sick."
Drift laughs. "I love you, you know that?"
Ratchet freezes for a second, then relaxes. "Yeah. I love you too."
"Don't forget it, okay?" Drift says, "I want to keep having you around. No one else is as fun to annoy."
“Hey, you’re -” Ratchet frowns, struggling to put the importance of what Drift had just done into words. “ you’re annoying, but - it’s good.”
"Just -" Drift shakes her head slightly, "it's something I've thought about a lot. What - to say."
What to say, or what someone could have said to her. Ratchet has a feeling she’s been thinking about this for longer than she’s known Ratchet, at least. “Hey, I -” wish I could have been there for you back then. Wish someone who would have known what you needed to hear, who was better at this than me, could have been there for you. Wish you’d never gone through it in the first place. Wish I could be the one looking out for you right now, instead of the other way around. Wish this was something I could fix for both of us, like resetting a dislocated shoulder “I’m sorry. Someone - should have been there for you.”
“Yeah,” Drift says, “I know that now.”
Ratchet has run out of words. They squeeze Drift’s arm instead, and hope the support comes through.
“So I - I know words can’t fix it, and I know all the love in the world can’t fix it, but - I want you to know that I love you, and that I value you no matter how ‘useful’ you are. However helpful that is -”
“Drift, I -” because it does matter, it really does, Ratchet needs her to know that. “I meant it when I said it helps. I - even if I can’t -”
“I know.” Drift says.
After a minute, Ratchet snorts. "So what you're saying is," they make a face. "If you can't make your own self worth, Drift-bought is fine."
"... did you just use a meme." Drift starts, incredulous and half-laughing. "Did you just use a meme correctly ."
"In my defense, it's an old meme."
"Don't worry, you didn't recognize my Lizzo reference earlier, your grandparent friend status is safe."
"Your who reference?"
"See? Still totally old." Drift says. Then, after a minute, "I meant what I said, you know. I know I can’t - you should really talk to someone else about this," she adds. "What I said before, that I hope you can want to be alive for your own sake someday - I meant that too, and - and I don't want your life to be conditional on -"
"I wouldn't put that on you. I don't."
Drift exhales, "yeah," she says, and then after a moment. "You know I'm with you, right? I meant what I said in Sedona. I don't mean this like -"
"I - yeah." Ratchet says. "Yeah, I do."
"Still -"
Drift doesn't actually have to say 'therapy' for Ratchet to know what she means. It’s not like it’s the first time it’s come up.
"I'm fine.” Maybe they’re not great but, since they hadn’t noticed until Drift prodded, it’s not - Drift was taking this too seriously. It wasn’t like there was anything they weren’t getting done, or they were doing anything stupid. Not really stupid. They don’t need - that. “Seriously, Drift, I'm not going to waste someone's time talking about being down like everyone else, there are people who actually need that - help, or -” they don’t say ‘antidepressants’ “ -whatever."
"If anyone else told you that, would you believe that they didn't need help?"
That was - a stupid question. "Anyway, I'm the one out nonbinary person in the whole damn program, and some of my supervisors actually know I'm autistic." They say bitterly. "Half of them already think I'm crazy - there's a reason I never mention being ace, much less aro. I have to get a residency soon enough, and -"
"If half of them already think you're crazy, then who cares? It's not going to change their minds, and the rest should know better." Drift says, "Besides, if you don't tell them, who's going to know?"
"I -" Ratchet starts, and then remembers their HIPAA privacy rule training, and stops.
"If it was anyone else, you'd tell them to talk to someone." Drift says gently.
Ratchet frowns. There it is again.
"Put it this way, if it's easier," Drift says. "There's no way you're doing your best - for yourself and for everyone else there - if you're fighting your own brain too."
"I am my brain." Ratchet mumbles, knowing they've already lost their case.
"Ratch."
"Yeah," they sigh, "you're right."
"My favorite words, from you." Drift teases gently.
"I'll -” they grit their teeth, “work something out. I'll talk to someone."
"I'd recommend my therapist," Drift says, easily, "but she'd probably drive you up the wall."
"That sounds about right."
"I guarantee you there are other med students in therapy." Drift says. "You'll find someone who works for you."
Ratchet thinks about Rung, who seems more or less sensible, but they wouldn’t want to talk to someone they end up talking to for work, and besides, the two of them are - friendly acquaintances? probably. And that doesn’t seem - good practice?
Of course, never having to talk to them for work would put a limit on a lot of therapists affiliated with the university. Maybe they could find someone to talk to online. As long as they didn’t have to talk on the phone with anyone.
And if they’re talking to someone anyway, and it’s someone sensible, maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to talk about - what Drift had wanted them to talk to someone about, before. If it would make Drift happy.
It was - nice, that Drift cared enough to bother.
“Drift,”
“Hm?”
Come on, just say it. “Y’know. Thanks.”
“Of course.”
Ratchet’s still running their fingers over Rodimus’s braids absently, occasionally twining small strands at the ends together with one hand.
“Can’t believe Rodimus slept through all this,” they note, as they think it.
"If she's really asleep."
Ratchet realizes something. Something damp. "She better be, she's drooled on me."
Drift laughs, elbowing Ratchet in the ribs, then looks down at Rodimus. "She really is still asleep? She hardly ever sleeps this deep." She notes, with a fond smile as she looks at Rodimus’s half-braided hair
“Huh.” They’ve never noticed that. But they never shared an apartment with Rodimus.
“Hey,” Drift says, “We’ll be okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Drift says with a gentle smile, “I think between us, we can patch together some functioning self preservation instincts.”
Ratchet hums skeptically.
Drift grins. “Have a little faith in us, Ratch.”
“I will not.” Ratchet says. “But… our record is pretty good.”
“So that’s good enough evidence for you?” Drift teases.
“I’d call that confirmed.” Ratchet says, and smiles.
“Good,” Drift says, “as long as we get there in the end…” she nudges her head up against theirs with a grin.
They hum in return.
There’s still something bothering them.
“Listen, Drift?” They try to find a way to make the right words come out. “If you ever - if you’re ever - feeling that way again, like… like you don’t want to be “ alive “around. I -”
The words dry up. They reach down and squeeze Drift’s hand instead.
“Come tell you, so you can tell me that’s stupid?” Drift’s teasing, but Ratchet’s pretty sure her smile is sincere. They’ve gotten better at telling, at least with her.
“Yeah,” they say “that sounds about right.”
Drift smiles wider, and squeezes back. “Thanks, Ratch.”
Ratchet loves her so much it’s stupid sometimes.
This is stupid. This is stupid, and they know they’ll regret it because they’ve been here before, but Drift isn’t - Drift is Drift, and she’ll still think it’s stupid because it is but - but -
Stupid.
“Do you think you can get up without waking Rodimus?”
“Yeah,” Drift says, “what is it?”
Ratchet forces the words out before they can think more and stop themself. “In the bottom drawer of my desk there’s a piece of paper,” they say. “It’s for you.”
Drift looks puzzled, but gets up and goes to the drawer anyway.
Ratchet bites their tongue to stop themself from telling Drift to stop before they can open the drawer. Stupid stupid stupid
Drift still looks confused when she picks up the paper, smoothing out the crumpled parts from when they had realized how stupid this was - stupid - but they can’t get up and yank it out of her hands without dislodging Rodimus
“You don’t have to -” they start and trail away - stupid stupid stupid Drift is dating Drift has a real relationship -
“Ratchet -” Drift starts, but Ratchet isn’t present enough to catch the tone of her voice.
- Drift isn’t defective stupid stupid worthless she won’t want this -
- worthless he’s going to laugh at you again -
“Hey. Ratchet.” Drift says, steadying.
They can feel something smooth touch their hands. Drift is nudging a ‘stress’ ball towards their grip. They unfreeze just enough to take it in their hands.
“You’re okay. You’re okay, Ratch.”
Their brain has caught up with them too late, this was a terrible idea, their hands shake as they grip the ball and they keep babbling - “You can put it away and -”
Drift looks up, surprised but -
Happy? Was she happy?
“ Ratchet - the answer’s yes, of course it is -” Drift starts, waving the paper with the queerplatonic relationship prompts that Ratchet had decided was stupid and kitchsy the moment they saw it, and then spent a solid three weeks being frustrated they couldn’t come up with anything better, printed out, started filling out, realized was stupid again because why would anyone ever want any of this from them, and crumpled it up and shoved it into a drawer that they should never ever have let anyone open -
“ - just forget about - what?” Ratchet’s brain comes to a screeching halt.
“Yes, I want to be queerplatonic partners with you.” She picks up a pen from Ratchet’s desk and scrawls something out on the paper before holding it up to Ratchet’s face.
Drift says YES
“Are you sure?” Damn, what was that pricking at their eyes? It wasn’t allergy season yet.
“Yes.” Drift says. “Is it good if I hug you?”
Ratchet considers. Right now, they’re - yeah. “Yeah.”
Drift climbs back on the bed and wraps her arms around Ratchet. She keeps muttering ‘yes, yes, yes’ into their shoulder, and every time she says it feels a little more real.
Ratchet turns to hug her better, pressing their head into their shoulder and squeezing their eyes shut and holding on to stop their hands still shaking. It’s worth it, right now.
There’s an unintelligible ‘flgrble?’ from the vicinity of Ratchet’s intestines, and then a much more intelligible, “Oh, hey, what?” in Rodimus’s voice.
“Uh.”
“Is someone dying? Are we celebrating something?” Ratchet looks up at Drift. “Oh, what are we celebrating?”
Ratchet wipes a hasty hand across their eyes and Drift - thankfully or not - answers. “Ratchet asked me to be their queerplatonic partner.”
Which makes them sound like such a sap
… oh hell , they are such a sap.
Rodimus lights up. “Hey! That’s great!” They lift an arm to high five Drift. “Wait, you said yes, right? Right? I mean, you’ve talked about it enough -”
“Yeah.” Drift says with a smile, high-fiving Rodimus back. “I did.”
“Hey! Nice!” Rodimus holds out her hand to Ratchet, who cautiously high fives it. “That’s the power of popcorn and Mythb - oh my god. Oh my god. You know what this means?”
“What?” Drift asks.
“Your anniversary is Valentines’ day.” Rodimus says gleefully, jabbing a finger towards Ratchet. “Queerplatonic anniversary - QPR anniversary - QP-versary? Whatever, point is, you can’t be grumpy about Valentines’ day anymore. Like, legally.”
Ratchet grumbles at that.
Drift grins. “This is perfect,” she says, “it’ll be an annual celebration. With Mythbusters,” she adds, nudging Ratchet.
Ratchet finds the tiniest doofy grin making its way onto their face, and doesn’t quash it. “That - yeah. Suppose I could do with repeating this.”
“Good.” Drift says, squeezing their shoulder.
Ratchet smiles, just a little, leaning their head against Drift’s. “Yeah,” they say, with a long exhale.
They’re okay. They’re really okay. Drift said yes, and she didn’t think it was stupid, and they’re all three here, and they’re okay, and they’re okay, and maybe this day isn’t terrible after all, and -
“...Ratch?” Rodimus says, propping her head up slightly. Ratchet realizes they’ve zoned out for a long moment. “Do you want to braid the other side of my hair?”
As Rodimus says it, Ratchet can feel the bits of tension still remaining in their hands, still clutched in half fists. “Yeah,” they say, “but after that I am kicking you two out. You may have been napping, but I still need to sleep.”
“Aw, Ratch…”
“You’d be less happy about sticking around after I roll over in my sleep and elbow you in the face.”
Rodimus shrugs.
“Go on,” Ratchet says, and Rodimus scoots over enough for Ratchet to braid the other side of their hair.
They move their hands, running her fingers through, lifting and twisting the sections of Rodimus’s hair. When they finish the first braid, they find that there’s less stress in their hands and shoulders.
They take a deep breath and easily move on to a second, until Rodimus has four braids, two on each side of her head. She reaches up to pat the result approvingly. “How do I look? Drift, how do I look?”
Ratchet snorts with amusement.
Drift gives a thumbs up, “Cute as all hell, babe.” she says, “Sure you don’t have time for one more?” she asks Ratchet, reaching up, ready to undo her bun.
Ratchet… yeah, okay, they barely make an effort to sound exasperated. “Only because you don’t have as much hair to braid,” they say, nodding to Drift’s undercut, and Drift grins, pulling down her bun.
Rodimus sits up to watch Ratchet braid Drift’s hair, bringing the long top of her hair together into one big braid. Running their fingers through Drift’s hair, Ratchet can see where the dark roots are growing out, Drift will probably bleach her hair again soon - or do whatever that ‘natural’ method she’s trying is.
Whatever it is, her hair is still soft as Ratchet finishes the ends of the braid. “Done.”
“Looking gorgeous, babe,” Rodimus says with a thumbs up at Drift. “These are great,” she adds, patting her own hair, “thanks, Ratch.”
Ratchet smiles a little, “No flattery,” they say, barely trying for gruffness, still smiling and leaning back against the wall, making no move to get up, “you still gotta go home.”
“I thought it was, ‘you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here’?” Drift says with a grin.
“You better go home, you need to sleep and I don’t want to spend the night worrying about y’all wandering about or getting into your superhero shenanigans. Y’go straight home and you - text me, when you get there.”
Drift runs a hand over her hair, “This is really nice, Ratch. I didn’t know you liked braiding.”
“‘S good to have something to do with my hands,” they say, with a slight tilt of their head towards the various detritus on their desk they normally use for stimming.
“Well, if you like it, we should do this more often. At least, more often than an anniversary tradition,” Drift adds, reaching out to ruffle Ratchet’s short hair a little. It’s a - nice feeling, Ratchet notes, not for the first time.
“I can do that,” Ratchet says. It really does sound… nice, somehow.
The closing theme for the Mythbusters episode seems to come out of nowhere, all three of them start.
Ratchet sighs and stands up to go over and pause the video, dislodging Drift and Rodimus. They turn around to find the two of them engaged in communication comprised entirely of holding hands and making faces.
“So, was the myth busted?” Drift asks, turning around to look at them.
Ratchet couldn’t answer that for the life of them, they’d completely lost track of what was playing.
“Naw, s’was confirmed.” Rodimus says, and Drift grins.
“We should go?” Drift asks, sitting up a little straighter.
Ratchet lets out a long breath. “Yeah.” they say, and Drift and Rodimus start to get up. “Uh. Thanks, for -” saying yes. for acting like that mattered. for coming over in the first place. for rescheduling your date. for knowing that I hated today. for mythbusters. for giving a shit about me. “- the popcorn.” they say. “It - means a lot.” they add, and try to say more than that with their tone, even as bad as they know they are at it.
Drift understands. Drift’s good at that. “You’re welcome. For popcorn,” she says, smiling.
“Obviously,” Rodimus adds, with a grin. “Hug?”
Ratchet considers, and shakes their head.
“Fistbump?”
Ratchet snorts, but nods and holds out a fist.
“Badalalalala!” Rodimus says with a grin.
“Badalalalala to you too.” Ratchet says, deadpan, and Rodimus cracks up just like they knew she would. They smile, just a little.
“You’ll text me when you get home.” Ratchet says to Drift.
“Of course,” Drift says, smiling.
“Okay,” they fidget with their hands. Just say it. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” Drift says.
“Dream of busted myths!” Rodimus calls out before closing the door.
Ratchet falls back on their bed.
They pick up the aro pride flower from where Drift had stuck it behind their ear, holding it above them, and looking at it, feeling a little warmth in their chest.
Drift had made that for them. Drift had said yes. Drift had said yes.
They smile, and put the flower back in its mug.
They lay back and close their eyes, ready to sleep, ready to wake up in the morning. There’ll be other days to sit with their friends and watch Mythbusters and eat popcorn, and that - that doesn’t sound so bad.
There’ll be a QP-versary.
Yeah, that seems like a pretty good reason to look forward to next year.
MagicalSpaceDragon Sat 25 Apr 2020 04:51PM UTC
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