In the morning Drift woke up to the sound of the medbay door opening and closing, the sounds of walking getting closer to his berth and he opens his optics and turns his helm. He sees FirstAid and even though the small kind medic had a visor and mask combo on covering his faceplates Drift got the impression that he was smiling. "Good morning Drift. Well, good afternoon I should say. You were in deep recharge for quite a while and when you woke up last night and immediately went back into recharge I didn't have the spark to wake you back up just to give you a quick medical examination." FirstAid said as he stops next to Drift, looking over the different monitors and wiring connected to the swordsmech as he jotted down notes dutifully. "What happened?" Drift asked quietly, vocalizer glitching slightly from disuse, making him confused about how long he could have possibly been out for his vocalizer to be glitchy. "Skyfire saved your life over three weeks ago and you and the captain have been unconscious since. Hot Rod hasn't woken up at all yet, you're the first one to do so. However two days ago Skyfire was discharged from the medbay and put on light duty only until he is fully recovered." The red and white blue visored medic explained as he begins to readjust some things for Drift.
"How...how badly was he hurt? And is Hot Rod going to be okay? He's not... he's not going to be crippled right?" Worry was gripping his spark tightly as he wondered about his best friend.
FirstAid looks at Drift when the mech asks these questions and for a moment he debates before he decides to just tell him, "Skyfire's injuries were quite extensive and he was in and out of the danger zone a few times, same as the captain. However they both made it out of it and are in no threat of offlining now, captain Hot Rod won't be crippled either Drift. I would never allow one of my patients to be in such a state if I can do anything to prevent it." The swordsmech lets out a relieved heavy exvent, sagging against the medical berth as the back of his helm hits the berth with a dull thud. "That's a huge relief..." Drift murmured mostly to himself and FirstAid chuckles softly at this as he transforms one of his servos into a scanner and begins doing a full body scan. "I can tell that it is, Drift. Anyway, it looks like you're making a swift and clean recovery."
Drift goes to sit up but FirstAid gently pushes him back down onto the flat surface before the injured Cybertronian could lift more than three inches off the medical berth. "Hey, stay down you're still severely injured and I haven't given you the OK to move off this berth." The medic scolded gently but also firmly, Drift sighing and pouting a little. He had hoped to at least sit up so he could stretch his limbs. FirstAid seems to brighten up at the obedience from Drift as he turns and shifts through one of the very neat organized piles of different supplements and medicines, none of which Drift could tell looked like they were for serious injuries but he couldn't tell, he wasn't a medic and he didn't learn what the different types did. FirstAid had millennia of experience under his plating and learned from Ratchet.
"When do you think Roddy will wake up?" Drift asked, optics drifting over to his prone Amica who had a spark monitor hooked up to him that was beeping steadily and strongly which helped Drift with his worry. He's okay. He's going to be okay, FirstAid is the best medic there is. FirstAid wouldn't let Hot Rod offline... Drift tried to convince himself that Hot Rod wasn't going to suddenly flatline on him as he watched his best friends' slowly moving chassis. "Probably within the next week or so." FirstAid replied as he found the small bottle he was looking for as he screws off the cap and picks up a syringe, beginning to slowly fill the small syringe making sure to calculate how much he needed for Drift. "I had to put him under medical stasis because his wound was dire. He was nearly cleaved in half, I'm surprised he managed to last for as long as he did with only a basic barebone first aid medical job from a non-professional." Drift's optics widen at this and quickly turns his helm to look up at FirstAid who was making sure there weren't any bubbles and finally turns to look back at Drift. "W...what? Cleaved in half?!" The swordsmech nearly shouted as he tries to quickly sit up yet FirstAid quickly pushes him back down before Drift could do anything more. "Calm down, commander. He will live, he's just healing right now. And yes, I will tell you that he he was almost cut in half. Even so your Amica is strong, he has such a strong will to live that he defied logic and survived. Do not worry for him now, he's going to be okay and when he wakes up he will be the loud happy captain we all know and love." The primarily red medic said softly, hoping it will ease Drift's worries.
All is quiet for a while as FirstAid injects him with the medicine before pulling the syringe out and after cleaning the needle off he plucks it out of the main part and puts it in a trash disposal under the table. "I will go tend to your Amica now, just rest and don't get off that berth, otherwise I will have to restrain you." The white and red swordsmech watches as the chief medical officer leaves his side to go tend to Hot Rod.
---
Drift saw darkness creeping into the corners of his optics and fear gripped his spark tightly, the pressure increasing on his chassis and the glass shattering, the sickle claw digging into his shoulder and he felt the warm energon come from his body and go down his scuffed and dented armor. The wires snapping under the pressure and from the sharp foreign object piercing the malleable metals and he felt the loss of feeling in the arm that had went missing and his whole shoulder droop. It was now completely disabled.
The creature roared in his face but it sounded vaguely distant like he was under water back on Ka'Tire. The sharp jagged teeth of this hound enclose around his helm and he knew, he was going to offline as he felt the pressure...
He had accepted his fate however before the teeth could cause more than some tears in the metal it was thrown off him and he felt gravity take its' course and he fell to his knees, back sliding down the wall and staining it in energon as he collapsed onto his front ungracefully. Drift's vision was nearly completely black when he felt someone pick him up, holding him close to a fast rising and falling chassis, like someone was venting hard and with a little trouble Drift was able to restart his optics and he saw a mostly blurry white frame. Skyfire.
The shuttle-former was covered in energon and deep gouges that exposed the delicacies underneath and in some cases the protoform and broken and sparking wiring. Some of the curved slashed metal was sizzling, most likely from the acidic saliva of the creature that had bitten into him. Skyfire truly was a brave one because it most likely felt like his insides were turning to molten metal. "Don't worry, Drift, I got you...and Magnus and Hot Rod are up on the roof getting an evac with Springer. You'll be okay." Was the last thing Drift heard before he fell into unconsciousness, seeing the reassuring smile on the white Cybertronian's faceplates.
Drift faded in and out of consciousness off and on, blurry colors entering and exiting his vision as he felt himself talking, asking about something. Most likely someone as he heard mechs talking in worried tones. Their auras were so bright and almost blinding to Drift who could feel their worry and panic. Whatever was going on around him was bad. Hot Rod...where was Hot Rod? Drift found himself thinking, blindly reaching out with his only good arm trying to grab onto his Amica. He wanted his Amica, he needed to feel that comforting presence of his best friend, to see the sun like aura of the captain. The mechs around him quickly tried to restrain him; however even in such a state he was incredibly strong and he fought against their hold, desperate to get to Hot Rod.
His Amica.
His best friend since childhood.
Nevertheless in his weak state he was subdued and restrained against the medical berth underneath him and one mech above shouted something like 'sedate him' and with a quick poke into his neck he felt himself drifting again. Hot Rod...was he okay?
Drift regained consciousness for another brief moment some time later and he instinctively rolled onto his side and grabbed onto the body that was next to him. Drift knew that it was Hot Rod, that bright aura so unique to his Amica it was like drawing moths to a flame. It was such a relief to be holding his Amica in his arms, to feel that lifeforce through their Amica Endura bond. But Hot Rod was too cold. Far too cold and with a tightening of his arms, Drift felt himself suddenly just...click. It felt so weird to be connecting to Hot Rod's spirit and wrap around it but it felt nice. It felt wonderful, just like greeting an old friend after so long and Drift could feel tears roll down his faceplates in the physical world as he called out to Hot Rod through this new link.
Hot Rod responded in kind and Drift lead Hot Rod back. Away - far away from that darkness he had been drifting off to and Drift felt that 'click' end and he was back in his own body - which was wracked with silent sobs as he continued to hold onto his Amica.
That connection...it was so different to anything he had ever done before when practicing with his unique abilities. Drift couldn't say he hated it though having that connection to something so pure. Untainted. It was like a balm to his own childhood pains and he hadn't felt so nice in so very long. Drift nuzzled his faceplates into Hot Rod's neck cables, murmuring 'thank you's under his breath. Drift fell back into unconsciousness, not to wake up for another few weeks where he would wake to darkness and Hot Rod away from him.
---
It has been a week and Drift is allowed to sit up on his berth however he wasn't allowed to walk around yet. Drift, nevertheless, found a way to scoot his berth all the way over to Hot Rod so he could lay with him. He didn't want to lose his best friend - his Amica - and Drift just had this need to feel Hot Rod in his arms, to feel that warmth that Hot Rod always gave off that gave him immunity to extreme colds - that same warmth kept him from freezing at all. "Roddy..." Drift murmured as he wrapped his arms around his comatose friend. "Wake up...please. I'm so worried about you. I can't...I can't be without you Roddy." There was a strain on their bond and it was extremely upsetting. Furthermore it hurt. Like a tight squeeze that was slowly getting tighter; Drift wished he could make that sensation go away because it wasn't right.
Like a snap, it was suddenly gone that left Drift breathless as Hot Rod mumbled softly, "Not so tight Drift..." Said mech shoots up into a sitting position as he looks down at the flame colored mech laying down who was opening up his optics. Those wonderful optics, those expressive optics were looking up at him - a little unfocused but just the same he was looking at him. Drift makes a soft keening noise causing Hot Rod's facial expression to soften as he lifted a servo up and placed it on Drift's cheek. "I'm here Drift...I'm here."
"Oh...Roddy...I was so worried about you. So so worried..." Drift lowers his helm until their foreheads were touching and Hot Rod's servo went from his cheek to the back of his white spiked helm and held him there tightly. "I know you were...I'm here now though. I'm not leaving ya anytime soon, my Amica."
Hearing Hot Rod calling Drift his Amica was reassuring, comforting and everything felt okay again. Everything was going to be okay because Hot Rod - his beloved best friend - was going to make a full recovery.
Their auras intertwined like an embrace like friends from across time reuniting.