[ti]Flashback[/ti]Shake it Off [Patch]

[Deleted]

    Sideswipe was in the medibay. Again. Which wasn't really a surprise. There had been a battle, he'd participated in it, so of course he was in the medibay. He was fairly certain whatever had happened to him had been well worth it. The fight had been hard, but they'd emerged victorious. Or, at least, they'd driven the Decepticons back and reclaimed the same desolate, destroyed city-scape they'd been fighting over for Primus knew how long. 

    Even if it wasn't officially a victory, Sideswipe had fun. Was it twisted to think about having fun when ripping apart other members of his species during a war that was tearing apart his homeworld? Probably. But, it was either find the fun or be completely dismal about it, and he chose the former. He had then exercised this choice in a stunt that would likely get him reprimanded by some of the older bots. He didn't care. It was still worth it. 

    The idea had first come to him when he'd been on the ground, handling some of the genericons who'd formed the Decepticons' front line forces. He and the genericons were old pals in that they met often on the front lines, whaling at each other with guns and fists alike. He'd just come out of a pretty grueling hand-to-hand match when he'd happened to glance up and see a couple of fliers blast past one of the few still-standing towers in the city. A grin had stretched across his faceplates, a mad glint entering his optic. 

    Frag fighting on the ground, this would be so much better. It was jet judo time. 

    Climbing the structure itself had been something of a trial, made only slightly less annoying in that he had taken the high ground and could pick off enemies from above. At last, though, he made it to the level he sought and paused, waiting for the next fliers to come through. When it happened, he'd launched himself from the tower, freefalling momentarily before slamming into an airborn Decepticon. From there, the real fun had begun. 

    Of course, it had ended with him being thrown into another structure and crashing had, but, still worth it. Even though his leg was sparking oddly and he couldn't really feel much in his left side, but, otherwise, he was great. He sat on a berth, waiting for one of the medics to get to him. Hopefully, Ratchet wasn't around. He was flying high and not really in a mood to be chewed out right now. 

[Patch]

Not long ago, Patch had been among the newbies. Unscarred unscuffed protoforms, with badges still burning, and sparks brighter than the fuel fires they’d never truly smelled. Each and every one of them, almost certainly destined to die. And each and every one, not even to their millionth year.

Hand-me-down soldiers. Last sparked.
Replacements.

It had only taken one or two real battles, for that to start to wash away.

Sickbay, especially after a conflict, was not a particularly pleasant place to be. A muted groan, or mum filled the air every so often, from someone somewhere as they struggled. Exhausted medics bustling by, frames fuel-stained as they sought to ease another, and another until eventually everyone was either stable or dead.

A quiet, aching, broken calm.
A shivering stillness, ineptly soothed by silent soldiers as they worked.

It could be… Confusing, to those who prefer to function in loud environments.
Which just so happened to be why Patch avoided it like a hot-zone.

Being a combat medic, that wasn't so much of a problem. This wasn't her domain, that is unless something went wrong. Patch preferred to be with her crew whenever she could. To march, and roll, to refuel and recharge alongside them. That was the job she’d signed up for.

That is of course in daily life… In battle things were different.

In and out and in and out she’d gone all day. In search of supplies, pain relief, someone large enough to move those she physically could not lift alone. Her white and red plating darkened with ash and soot- a sure sign she had been thoroughly involved with the battle that had only just occurred. The only remaining features on the blackened monotoned mess of a soldier, bright blue optics, bright blue peddes, and the bright blue scrapes that gnawed through her every so often.

Just in and out once more, that was all this was meant to be. Just another wash of her servos, and as many more mesh pads she could get them on. She’d nearly succeeded at her goal, having already stuffed them in her bag, and returned it to her back. Walking in a wide, quick, exhausted stride back out the way she’d come...

When her attention was suddenly grasped, by a red mech sitting in a rather large puddle of his own energon…

Was… Was he hemorrhaging?

It looked like he had some major damage to his upper leg. His wounds unclamped, unbandaged… Un-anything...

Huh.

She just sort of, stared at him for a good long moment. A glowing cut along her face from her forehead to the opposite cheek. Looking at the fuel, then back at his face. Confused, alarmed, optic ridges lowered, yet drawn to together in the center. Intake hanging open ever so slightly in exhaustion.

“...Have you been looked at?” She said finally. A concerned tone, though not one of hast. Weary and static laden from shouting all day. Suddenly revealing she was either very young, very female or both. Regardless of the response, her expression remained unchanged.

“...Who brought you in?” If it had been a medic she trusted, maybe this hadn't been a slip-up. Maybe it hadn't been something they’d missed. Maybe after all these hours, with so very little recharge she was finally beginning to imagine things.

But if she wasn't..? This mech was in some fairly serious peril.

[Deleted]

    Sideswipe had been happy to just wait until he realized that, ah, wow, that was a lot of energon. He figured he should do something about that, but, well, he didn't exactly know how and wasn't this the medibay? Yeah, he'd be fine. Right? He hoped so. Sunny would peel his plating if he died from a stupid stunt. But, honestly, what a way to go. Death by the lasting effects of Jet Judo didn't sound so bad. 

    He was caught up enough in the bustle of the traffic in the medibay that he didn't notice he was being watched. Not until somebody spoke to him. He wheeled his head around quickly, an expectant look already on his face. Well, finally-

    Oh, huh. The speaker actually looked pretty banged up too. Judging from their voice, they were a femme, or a pretty young bot. He was going with femme, simply because he was still high on the emotions from Jet Judo and flirting with the doctor seemed like a good idea. Wait, was she a medic? Another soldier? He was leaning toward the former, simply because she looked pretty at home in her surroundings. 

    He shuttered his optics in a sort of blink, refocusing himself. Then, he looked down at his leg. Oh, damn, that was more energon than he'd originally thought. That was not good. 

    "Uhhh...there was this bot that pulled me over and sat me down. Didn't really have time to take a look before he got called over to help somebot with a guy who wasn't looking so hot. He said to sit tight for a klik, but he hasn't come back yet. I'm figuring the other guy is a lot worse off," he shrugged. Then, he squinted his optics slightly, "Are you a medic? Cause that would be great. I think I'm losing way too much energon. Can't really feel my leg anymore."

    Let no one say Sideswipe wasn't a chatter. And, right now, he was definitely feeling the aftereffects of that crash, which had made him even chattier than usual. 

"    What's your designation? I'm Sideswipe. I got this because I was riding a 'Con flier and he threw me. It was fun up until I crashed, which, y'know, hurt like Pit. And I'm thinking that it's a lot worse than I originally thought just because of that face you're making."

[Patch]

At the words ‘can’t really feel my leg anymore’ the little soldier lurched into movement once more. No longer particularly concerned with caution or bedside manor, the tiny, exhausted femme swiftly trudged. A newfound sense of urgency at the notion of numbness. No feeling meant to perfusion. No perfusion meant shock, and shock probably meant no energon; especially considering the fairly decent puddle this guy was workin’ on. As that young medic moved, her face remained nearly identical aside from a slight hardening of her otherwise round, softened features. Her jaw slightly set, with her optic ridges lowered. That cut across her face present as ever, as buried freckles revealed themselves, beneath the layer of grime.

Patch figured the fact that she was approaching him was enough to verify that she was a medic. A follow up question such as ‘how are you’ would also likely be answered well enough by the look upon her face; Patch wasn't exactly in a good mood right now.

Indeed, she didn’t respond to the soldier’s idle chatter. In fact, she actually went so far as to begin her work over his words as he continued. She unlatched her red, unmarked pack from sore, exhausted shoulders, then flopped it down at the left side of the head of the slab with a huff of a sigh. A quick glance around at the words ‘until I crashed, which, y'know, hurt like Pit.’ then a few rapid steps away to pick up some random scanner a slab down.

She clicked it on, as she approached once more. A small ‘beep beep’ in conformation. Then she threw the beam across Sideswipe’s helm and chassis -perhaps just a bit too quickly- to get baseline vitals alone. It was a crappy scanner. Pretty much all the equipment they had out here sucked. In fact, this one just so happened to be on the slightly less crappy end of the scale. Patch knew what the problem was, this mech’s femoral was busted. Had she actually used the damned thing, it would’ve told her that much; what it wouldn't have told her was how.

“Hold still.” An exhausted, monotoned mutter as the young medic concentrated. In with small, silver digits. Clean to the wrists where the rest of her...wasn't. Fearlessly, shamelessly, ((and by all indications obliviously)) reaching straight to the… Ehem... Upper portion of the wound, steadying his leg with the scanner still in hand, on the opposite side of his leg. searching for the major line she knew was leaking. Trying to determine if it was a tear, or a shred, or if it was severed entirely. See what would need to be done to stop the leakage.

“And, uh... Patch. My designation’s Patch.” She said, with a light shake of the helm as she struggled to sift through the mech’s rapid-fire chit-chat, while also concentrating on his status. It would seem Sideswipe was running several kliks faster than that freckled little medic at the moment; a fairly difficult achievement, considering the white and red fireball she usually was.