dens_tf_den | JOEverse, The Pit: Cybertronian part, Winds of Change...

Lifeline: beepboopclickpopsqueak!

Ratchet: *Chuckles and clicks to Lifeline*

Lifeline: *looks up at him, and then looks at the paper he let her have and chews on her pen for a moment before pointing to something that doesn't seem to look right to her baby processor* Squeeeeeee!

Ratchet: *raised brow ridge as he looks at what Lifeline is pointing to, before he's chuckling again* Good catch, Lifeline.

Lifeline: *bounces on her bottom, then realizes she's lost her pen and looks for it, clicking to herself busily*

Sheepish looking Gung-Ho: *sidles into the medbay and looks around, then ducks his head and turns to retreat on seeing no medic*

Ratchet: *calls through the open door of his office* Is something wrong, Gung-Ho? *reaching under the desk for the wayward pen*

Gung-Ho: Yeeiii! *rubs the back of his head and then straightens his green army cap. Gruff embarrassment* Not really. Jes' gotta sliver.

Ratchet: *clicks to Lifeline and moves to pick the little girl up* I'll be right out, Gung-Ho.

Gung-Ho: *sheepish grumbling, but then he suddenly realizes what that clicking he's hearing means and is suddenly all eyes as he tries for his first glimpse of a baby Transformer*

Lifeline: *clicking to Papa and showing him her hands as she happy wriggles at being picked up*

Ratchet: *quiet chuckle as he lifts Lifeline up so she can perch on her preferred seat, aka his shoulder, before he heads out of his office*

Gung-Ho: *eyes wide as he catches a hint of red and white up there on the green mech's shoulder* Is that....

Ratchet: *proud papa grin as he crouches so Gung-Ho can get a better look* This is Lifeline, First Aid's and my daughter.

Gung-Ho: *mouth falls open with wonder as he sees the little rolly poly being with the big blue eyes* She... she's only as big as me!

Lifeline: *twinkles little fat fingers in a wave*

Gung-Ho: *enchanted*

Ratchet: She's not very old yet, only a few weeks currently... *clicks to the little girl, forgetting for a moment why Gung-Ho is in the medbay*

Gung-Ho: *tries clicking himself, totally unselfconscious around babies of any race* She gonna grow?

Lifeline: *fascinated by this little guy*

Ratchet: Not in the same way that human babies grow, no... She'll be put into a larger protoform when she's mature.

Lifeline: *bounces on butt and clicks to Papa, then points to Gung-Ho and beeps hopefully. She wants down*

Ratchet: *Chuckles* Alright, but remember to be gentle... *moving to lower Lifeline down to Gung-Ho's level*

Gung-Ho: *hunkers slightly as Lifeline is set on the floor, then holds out a hand* It's a pleasure ta meet ya, Missy. You kinda remind me of my youngest sister when she was a baby. *massive grin*

Lifeline: *gently pat pats his hand, then beeps and grins back*

Gung-Ho: *head over heels. This big brother has found a new baby sister to love*

Ratchet: *remembers now why Gung-Ho came to the medbay, discreetly scans, and chuckles* May I see your hand, Gung-Ho?

Gung-Ho: *blinks as one called back from a pleasant dream. Shows him the hand that Lifeline had been patting*

Ratchet: The one with the sliver, if you would, please.

Gung-Ho: Oh. Right. *shows him the other one, which is wrapped in a wad of red-tinted paper towels*

Lifeline: *squeals with alarm and points to it*

Ratchet: *Clicks quietly to Lifeline as he carefully begins removing the paper towels*

Gung-Ho: *frowns* Hey, Ratchet... I don't wanna scare Lifeline.

Lifeline: *quiets and watches, her little hands to her face in a very expressive rendition of her mother's 'oh dear!' gesture*

Ratchet: *Quietly to Lifeline* Would you like me to get Mama?

Lifeline: *gives him a little frown, wondering if he's going to try to make her go with Mama again*

First Aid: *from the door* I'm here, Ratchet. What's wrong?

Gung-Ho: *embarrassed* It ain't nothin' but a little sliver....

Ratchet: //Gung-Ho doesn't want to frighten Lifeline...// *clicking quietly to Lifeline*

First Aid: *comes over and offers her hands to her daughter*

Lifeline: *hugs self and turns away from Mama, then beeps quizzically as she looks at Gung-Ho's injured hand*

First Aid: *nods and settles down to sit like a Japanese lady next to the baby in case Lifeline should need her*

Ratchet: *chuckles* I don't think she's frightened, Gung-Ho... *resumes removing the paper towels until he can get a good look at the sliver*

First Aid: *winces and makes a little soft sound of sympathy as she sees the four inch long shard of metal that's driven into the meaty part of the big Cajun's hand* Oh! Poor Gung-Ho.

Lifeline: *looking with innocent interest. Doesn't really understand what's up*

Gung-Ho: *embarrassed still* It's just a sliver....

Ratchet: Nonsense. *begins working carefully to extract the sliver without causing more injury to Gung-Ho*

Gung-Ho: I wouldn't even have come, but Lady Jaye got her tail all in a knot and insisted.

Ratchet: With good reason... *finishes extracting the sliver and carefully sets it aside so he can focus on bandaging Gung-Ho's hand* That couldn't have felt too pleasant in there like it was.

Gung-Ho: I could'a got it out. *gruff*

First Aid: *gently but firmly* You had better not try. That's what we're here for.

Ratchet: *nods* First Aid is right... this sort of thing is why we're here.

Gung-Ho: Could'a... yessir. *bit of a frown. He's still sure that his injury is trivial*

Ratchet: *clicks to Lifeline as he holds up the shard once he's finished bandaging Gung-Ho's hand* Yeah... this doesn't look like it'd be very comfortable penetrating one's skin...

Gung-Ho: Figured I'd just get it out myself later.

WJ: *running past* YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ratchet: ...

Gung-Ho: ....o.0?

First Aid: *getting up to go see*

Lifeline: *clicking and squeaking quizzically as she tries to figure out how to get over there*

Ratchet: *disposes of the shard and wipes his hands off, before clicking to Lifeline and offering to pick her up again*

Lifeline: *wants picked, yes.*

Short blue mech: *blinking and gaping as he watches WakeJumper quickly distance herself from him* .... Ummm.... Okay then...

First Aid: Oh, Showtime. I didn't know you were here today.

Gung-Ho: *also going to see*

Showtime: Got kinda sick of being used for target practice by drunk humans... *small shrug, sheepish smile* Got time to dig shrapnel out, 'Aid?

Ratchet: *picks up Lifeline and helps her onto his shoulder again*

Lifeline: *happy little squeaks*

First Aid: Oh, poor Showtime! *looks over her shoulder* I do. But... have you been debriefed?

Showtime: Not yet... I didn't wanna be sitting in pain while Prime gets on my case for lack of decorum...

First Aid: *hesitates, then looks back at him* What you see in this room stays in this room. Please?

Showtime: *serious in an instant* *nods* You have my word. On my honor as a mech.

Ratchet: //... wow. That's something I never thought I'd hear Showtime say...//

First Aid: //I've heard him say it before. And I trust him... will you let him see Lifeline?//

Ratchet: //... alright... If you trust him, then I shall do the same.// *Clicks to Lifeline and moves closer to the door*

Showtime: *puzzled blinking when he hears the clicking, accompanied by a slight flutter of doorwings*

First Aid: *leads her friend into the medbay* *softly* Showtime... this is.... *blush* This is Lifeline. Ratchet and I are her parents. Oh, do you know what 'parents' means yet?

Gung-Ho: *looking protective*

Showtime: *puzzled look to First Aid, before his attention is on the little girl, and then he's fluttering his 'wings a bit more in curiosity*

First Aid: She's a new spark. Ratchet and I created her... from our own sparks.

Lifeline: *big yawn and then a hungry beep*

Showtime: ... *putting two and two together* ... O_O

Ratchet: *clicks to Lifeline and moves to hook the little one up to his feedport* //You'd think he didn't know you're a woman...//

First Aid: *hands to her cheeks* Oh no! I forgot! Ah... I'm a woman.

Gung-Ho: *blushing*

Showtime: ... *blink blink* ... *butt meets floor when his legs give out on him*

First Aid: *a little late in catching her friend, but is now fussing over him gently* Circulate deeply, Showtime. Deep breath.

Showtime: *'wings buzzing softly as he circulates air for a few moments, before he quietly asks* How long... have we known each other, 'Aid?

First Aid: *looks slightly ashamed* Four thousand, two hundred, and sixty eight point two three.....

Showtime: And in all that time... you didn't think I couldn't keep my vocalizer quiet about something like that? *Small pout*

First Aid: *looks at the floor* *softly quotes Ratchet* The safest secret is one untold.

Showtime: Still... *looking quite comical as he pouts, before he nods, all business once again* I can understand though... after what everyone said happened to Sharpshot....

First Aid: Sharpshot's not dead. She's here.

Showtime: ...

Gung-Ho: *sneaks out so as to not hear secrets or embarrassing stuff*

Ratchet: *forwards a message to Lady Jaye to make sure Gung-Ho takes care of his hand* She's also... not the same woman she once was.

Showtime: ... *puzzled* What do you mean?

First Aid: *quietly* Starscream captured her... and used her for an experimental subject.

Showtime: ... *sharp intake of air*

First Aid: *gently* She has dissociative identity disorder now... and usually goes by Desinex.

Showtime: ... *confused* What's dissociative identity disorder?

Ratchet: *Quietly* Multiple personalities... Desinex is the dominant personality the majority of the time...

First Aid: *nodding as she reaches for her sleeping daughter*

Ratchet: *gently disconnects Lifeline from the feedport, and hands her over to First Aid* Desinex... is quite possibly insane...

Showtime: ... *frown* Is it like... two sparks in one shell or something?

First Aid: *cuddles Lifeline close to her chest* No. There's only one spark. It's a programming glitch.

Ratchet: *anticipating Showtime's next question* If we were to attempt to repair the glitch... it would be as though we killed Sharpshot...

Showtime: ... *wince*

*lights flicker*

Ratchet: ...

Showtime: ... is that supposed to happen?

First Aid: *looks up* No....

Ratchet: *comming the on-duty officers to see if they noticed the lights flickering as well*

Springer: //Ratchet! Sharpshot just forced herself through the forcefield over the cell opening! Her systems are all stopped, and her spark's flaring up!//

Ratchet: //Keep her still! Don't try to move her if you can avoid it!// *gets his field kit* Sharpshot just forced herself through the forcefield!

First Aid: *tucks Lifeline into her baby hold as she quickly gets to her feet* What's her condition? *going for her kit*

Springer: //She's not moving.//

Ratchet: Her systems are stopped, but her spark's flaring up. She's not showing signs of moving. *hurrying out of the medbay, as Showtime gets to his feet*

First Aid: *to Showtime* We'll be back. You can rest in one of the side rooms. *follows husband*

Ratchet: *hurrying towards the cell area* *pings Springer's comm* //Did she say anything before she forced herself through?//

Springer: //She was arguing with herself, and then she yelled something about finding a way out.//

Ironhide: *arrives about the same time Ratchet and First Aid do, his optics a bit dazed from spending quality time with his wife*

Springer: *crouched over the scorched and still form of the dark blue woman, as is Hound*

Ratchet: *scanning the still form and then he's intaking sharply* By the Allspark...

Springer: *startles at the intake* What is it?

First Aid: *looks at her husband*

Ironhide: What?

Ratchet: First Aid, do we have any spare protoforms? We're going to need two. Her spark's split.

First Aid: *bounding to her feet even as Ironhide and Hound get up to accompany her* We do, and two of them are woman size... though compact.

Ratchet: *working on getting the scorched shell's chestplate apart* We don't have much time. Both sparks are still very unstable.

First Aid: *races away, the mechs at her heels*

Springer: *looks at Ratchet, his finely sculpted face plates showing how guilty and sick he's feeling* Is she... are they... going to make it?

Ratchet: They'll need to be on spark support for a short time, but I'm confident that they'll be alright.

Springer: *relaxes a little, and then staggers around the corner and heaves*

First Aid: *coming back, Ironhide and Hound each carrying a protoform*

Ratchet: Set them down close by... and someone keep Springer company. *encasing his hands in a protective forcefield*

First Aid: *nudges Hound, wondering why he didn't go check on the young mech automatically, then gets everything ready for the transfer*

Hound: *startles and stares at First Aid, then goes to help Springer*

Ironhide: *taking orders and helping like the old hand that he is*

Ratchet: *carefully works on getting the slightly larger of the two sparks transferred, letting First Aid know via comms that he feels it would be a good idea to keep the pair on spark support for the foreseeable future*

First Aid: *nodding. Has portable units already hooked up*

Ratchet: *closing up the first protoform's chestplates, and then working on transferring the remaining spark* It should only be a matter of time before we know who these two are...

First Aid: *softly and sadly* Poor Sharpshot... she.... *can't finish what she was saying*

Ironhide: *finishes, in his blunt way* Did what y'all wouldn'.

Ratchet: *small nod as he closes up the second protoform's chestplates* *quietly* All we can do now... is pray... and hope for the best...

first woman: *features settling, and then she's letting out a very soft distressed sound*

First Aid: *gently strokes her head* *gently* Shhhh, you're safe. You're going to be alright.

Hound: *head around the corner, watching closely as he absently pat pats the shaky Springer*

second woman: *features settling as well, though they're not as delicate-looking as the first woman's* nnn...

Ratchet: *clicking quietly to the pair, and applying light pain overrides*

First Aid: *gently mothering them both*

First woman: *unshuttering her optics briefly, revealing their blue color, before she's powering down for a sleep cycle*

Second woman: *soft hiss and very weak glare at everyone, revealing that her optics are a dusky purple color*

First Aid: *startles at the hiss* Shhhh. You're safe.

Ratchet: *clicks quietly* //...Odds are looking like the first one is Sharpshot... or someone with a similar personality...//

First Aid: *surprised* Do you think her personality would be able to survive?

Ratchtet: It's a possibility... We'll have to wait and see...

Ironhide: We should get them somewhere comfortable and quiet. *gruff and protective*

First Aid: *gently touches the second woman's head, clicking softly*

second woman: *slight flinch, tries to move away from the touch, but doesn't have the energy to*

Ironhide: *offers himself as patient transport*

Ratchet: *carefully lifting the first woman and offering her to Ironhide* She's in a sleep cycle, so I doubt she'll be too much trouble...

Ironhide: *takes the little woman and holds her carefully, then heads for the med bay*

Hound: *wants to go with... but winds up going back to Springer*

Ratchet: First Aid, do you think you'll be able to carry this one, while I take care of Sharpshot's shell?

First Aid: I can carry her. *slips hand under the woman's head and legs to lift her up*

woman: *soft, displeased sound, but offers no resistance*

Ratchet: *nods as he moves to carefully lift the scorched shell that once held Sharpshot's spark* Has Optimus been informed of the situation?

Hound: *quietly from around the corner* I told him.

Ratchet: *small nod* Alright... *quiet sigh* I just wish... we could have done more for her...

Hound: *silent as Springer rattles to himself tearfully*

Ratchet: *small frown, has a feeling he's missing something* Hound, Springer, if you two have time later on, I'd like your input for the official report...

Hound: Yes, sir. Right now I think I'd better get Springer to Arcee.

Ratchet: *nods as he moves to return to the medbay*

First Aid: *has both women tucked into berths when he arrives, though she hasn't hooked them to the energy feed. Instead both are hooked to various monitors as she expands the spark support system on the more wakeful sister*

Ratchet: *nods to First Aid as he takes the scorched shell to one of the empty side rooms, so he can study the damage to it at a later time and make notes for future reference, in the off chance that another case similar to this one occurs*

Showtime: *peeking at the pair from the med ward hallway, a concerned frown firmly on his faceplate*

softer-featured woman: *quietly* L... Love... Hound...

First Aid: *gasps softly and turns to look at her. Doesn't know what prompts it, but says softly* Sharpshot?

Sharpshot: *quietly* D-Desinex... wrong... about... Hound...

sharper-featured woman: *silent*

First Aid: *wide-opticked. Turns to the other woman* Desinex? Is that you?

sharper-featured woman: *low, soft growl, glaring at Sharpshot* They'll turn you into a breeder! One after another! Growing like parasites and then they rip them from you! *getting hysterical now and more than likely setting off a few alarms*

Sharpshot: *cycling air* Desinex... wrong... Love Hound! Hound is good!

Ratchet: *hurrying back to the main part of the medbay when he hears the alarms* First Aid, what's going on?

First Aid: *getting a mild sedation tab* Sharpshot and Desinex have survived. *applies the tab to Desinex*

Desinex: *quiets down and glares hatefully at everyone she can see as well as she's able to*

Ratchet: *intakes hitch, before he nods and lets Optimus know*

First Aid: *looks at the two women* *gently* Do you want separate rooms?

Sharpshot: *quietly* No want... Desinex...around...to hurt...anyone...

Ratchet: *checking Desinex's vitals, despite the string of tired-sounding cursing the woman is letting loose* //I think it would be best for them to be in the care and custody of two separate beings... But not Wheeljack... we don't want either one being accidentally blown up...//

First Aid: //I don't think Desinex would be comfortable around a mech. Do you think Chromia would accept being taken from active duty for a little while? She's the only woman not on maternity leave.//

Ratchet: //I think that's actually a very good idea... But who would be able to care for Sharpshot?//

First Aid: //...Hound.// *gently touches Sharpshot's shoulder*

Sharpshot: *soft noise, before she shutters her optics and drifts back into a sleep cycle*

Ratchet: *small frown, before nodding and pinging Hound's, Ironhide's, and Chromia's comms* //We'll have to let Ironhide know what's going on as well...//

First Aid: *nods* //Yes. Oh... poor Sharpshot.// *finds a tarp with an electric heater in it and spreads it over the sleeping woman*

Hound and Ironhide: *indicate that they're coming*

Chromia: *also on her way to the medbay*

Ratchet: *quiet chuckle at the slightly rude name Desinex calls him before she too, powers down for a sleep cycle. Then he's going to get another tarp with an electric heater in it, and draping it over Desinex*

Showtime: ... *quietly* They'll be alright, won't they?

Ironhide: *gruffly from behind him* Course they will. Now who the slag're y'all?

Showtime: *Startles, muting his vocalizer so he won't wake the sleeping pair* O.O

Ratchet: *as he's gently smoothing Desinex's helm* That's Showtime. He's an old friend of First Aid's who came to get his injuries treated.

Ironhide: Ah. Guess yer alright. *shrugs, and then looks at Ratchet* Ya beeped?

First Aid: *beckoning Hound over to Sharpshot's berth*

Hound: *frowning with concern, he goes*

Ratchet: *small sigh* Desinex and Sharpshot both survived what happened earlier. Sharpshot was awake and lucid enough to state that she didn't want Desinex around to hurt anyone else... and Desinex has actively displayed her dislike of mechs...

Chromia: *leans against Ironhide and frowns*

Ironhide: *trying to figure out where he fits into this* Alraht....

Ratchet: Chromia's the only woman currently not on maternity leave... but if we were to place Desinex in her care... that would mean you two wouldn't be able to spend as much time together...

Chromia: *Frowning more*

Ironhide: .... *looks at his wife*

Chromia: ... *small sigh* For how long?

Ratchet: *quietly* Until she and Sharpshot no longer need to be on spark support, at least... I don't think it will be more than a couple of weeks tops though...

Ironhide: *winces and hopes Chromia's not going to yell....*

Chromia: *shutters her optics and mutters an oath*

Ironhide: *rubs her back* It may not be that long, 'Mia.

Chromia: *draws air in through her intakes slowly, before letting it all out in a sigh* Fine... but the moment Desinex is able to be off of spark support, she's on her own.

First Aid: *looks up from where she'd been watching Hound watch Sharpshot* *softly* Chromia... if you would really rather not do this, I will.

Chromia: I'll do it... *quietly* it's just... *squeezes Ironhide's hand*

First Aid: *understands* No. I... don't think that would be a good idea. Ratchet?

Ratchet: *small frown* I suppose... we could keep Desinex in the medbay... she needs to be around mechs at some point, and to learn that most mechs aren't like Starscream...

First Aid: And she'll be able to see that babies aren't parasites. *perks*

Ratchet: *small nod, glances over at Sharpshot, who is sleeping peacefully*

Hound: *is holding Sharpshot's hand*

Ratchet: *gently* Hound... would caring for Sharpshot interfere with your normal duties?

Hound: *looks up with a bit of surprise* No sir, I don't think so. I've just been doing whatever I'm assigned to.

Ratchet: If it's alright... I think it would be best for Sharpshot if you were the one to care for her, Hound...

Hound: *quietly* Yes, sir. *glances at First Aid*

First Aid: *is checking on Desinex*

Desinex: *isn't having nearly as restful a sleep cycle as Sharpshot, if the twitching of her legs is anything to go by*

First Aid: *gently strokes her head as she looks up at Ratchet* We should separate them. Sharpshot asked to be away from Desinex.

Ratchet: *nods* Hound, let's get Sharpshot settled... the sooner she's away from her sister, the better.

Ironhide: *quietly leading his lady away, mindful of the slight wobbliness of her legs*

Chromia: *clicking quietly to Ironhide and leaning on him not only for support, but for comfort as well*

Hound: Yes, sir. Where are we bringing her? *hand still gently holding that of the sleeping woman*

Ratchet: One of the quarters that has two berths. *getting the portable monitors hooked up to Sharpshot, and unhooking the stationary monitors*

Hound: ...There are two in my quarters.

Ratchet: *considering* Would it be acceptable for Sharpshot to stay in your quarters then, Hound?

Hound: *quietly* If it's alright with her.

Ratchet: *small nod* Considering the number of times it was Desinex who tried to attack you, only to stop short when Sharpshot took control long enough to allow you to get away?

First Aid: *softly* Ratchet... she's already chosen him.

Ratchet: ...*soft chuckle*

First Aid: She won't be frightened by bunking with him. It might even help with her recovery.

Ratchet: *nods in agreement* The sooner we get her moved, the better...

Hound: *slipping his free hand under Sharpshot's head, ready to bring her home at Ratchet's word... and inwardly falling over with shock at being chosen*

Ratchet: *helping Hound by picking up the portable equipment* First Aid, make sure Desinex gets a full cycle of recharge... that could do a lot towards improving her demeanor...

First Aid: *gives him a slight smile that she never would have before* Yes, Ratchet.

Sharpshot: *soft noise, doesn't want to let go*

Hound: *gently* Sharpshot... I can't bring you home without that hand.

Sharpshot: *awake now, quiet clicks as she moves to snuggle against Hound*

Hound: *scoops her up carefully and fixes the tarp, then carries her out*

First Aid: *watches them go, and then clicks softly to Desinex before looking up at Showtime*

Showtime: *considering something* *quietly* Still got time to remove shrapnel?

First Aid: *optics widen* Oh! Poor Showtime! I forgot. *pats Desinex and moves toward the door and Showtime* Of course I do.

Showtime: Should I transform?

First Aid: Well, what form were you in when you picked up the shrapnel? *herding him back toward his own room in the medical ward*

Showtime: *being herded* Car mode... I just picked up this mode, too...

First Aid: Then transforming will probably be a good idea. *gentle pat pat*

Showtime: 'kay. *takes a few steps back and transforms to his Corvette mode*

First Aid: *sets to work removing the shrapnel and repairing his armor where it's needed*

((Co-written with

random_xtras))