FirstAid wasn't sure how to feel when he found that Drift had moved his medical berth. Oh he wasn't miffed about Drift wanting to be close to his Amica, FirstAid knew all to well the emotional damage separation could cause - especially after such a harrowing experience so the medic wasn't going to begrudge the obvious need for comfort and reassurance. After all, FirstAid lost his own Amica here on Cybertron a long time ago when they went their separate ways - his Amica with Optimus Prime off world and into deep space while he himself went off with another group. The medic hasn't seen his Amica since that day they parted on the platform and it's been so long since FirstAid has seen his best friend for all he knew they were dead. He's come to terms with that. Besides, Drift and Hot Rod have such a deep bond and have had it since even before they performed the Amica Endura that FirstAid is pretty sure that their bond will last lifetimes. With a small smile on his hidden faceplates the kindly little medic walked up to Drift who was wrapped around the Lost Light's captain like the red and yellow speedster was a youngling toy. It was a sweet sight in his opinion and one that isn't often seen since the two would rather cause chaos aboard the ship than to spend it cuddling and pawing at each other like lovesick mechs.
Sometimes the medic was envious of how close Drift and Hot Rod were, how they shared everything and could just...express themselves. FirstAid couldn't do that, so he hides his face behind his visor and mask. He stopped crying over being rejected many years ago and he knew some of the crew questioned him and his abilities, talking bad about him behind his back but that was okay he could take it. He had Pharma and Ambulon, they weren't real close to him but they were friends and the only ones he felt like he could show just a bit more of himself than what he shows to the rest of the crew.
FirstAid does his usual routine of making sure Hot Rod was recovering ok and that he didn't need any more repairs before he turns his attention and examinations onto Drift who hasn't budged an inch since, the medic smiling as he found nothing wrong nor did Drift need any more pain medication as the third in command looked like he was recharging peacefully. Quietly as he could FirstAid left the room since everything was alright and his two patients were healing and recovering nicely.
He had only just entered his office when he got a vide chat request on the computer that was sitting on his desk. The medic noted that it was from Ultra Magnus so he accepted and on his screen popped up video feed of the now currently acting captain with Springer acting as S.I.C until things went back to normal after Drift and Hot Rod fully recovered. Though they haven't found an acting T.I.C yet but that was alright since Drift will be ready for light duty within another week or two depending on if he strains himself in the medical ward. "Good afternoon Ultra Magnus." FirstAid greeted kindly and the acting captain nods his helm. "Same to you. How are Hot Rod and Drift?"
"Hot Rod woke up for all of a few minutes half an hour ago but went right back into recharge after Drift started to snuggle him. Drift will be able to preform light duty within a week." The red and white medic replied. "I will hand in the full medical report at the end of the day, possibly tomorrow afternoon if Hot Rod takes a turn for the worst suddenly between now and then." Ultra Magnus listened intently and dutifully to FirstAid's brief update about the hospitalized mechs. "It is good that they're making such good recovery. With the extent of their injuries I was admittedly worried that it would be a slow process." Ultra Magnus commented, a bare hint of relief in his tone as he shuffles some datapads off screen and FirstAid doesn't say anything about it knowing that the Second in Command of the Lost Light didn't admit to worry often. Or hardly at all really if given the option, he was just like that - preferring his more stern approach to topics regarding feelings and such. It was his way of showing that he cares. Everyone on the ship knew that and so didn't take it to spark, even making it a bit of a light joke to tease the poor S.I.C.
"You know," FirstAid started and briefly paused to catch Ultra Magnus' attention, "you could always come down to the medbay instead of staying locked up in your office with Lampshade and Skyfire to come see your captain and Third in Command." Behind his mask the medic's mouth quirked up into a playful smile as he sees the expression change into one of 'say what now?' on the acting Captain's faceplates. Playful teasing even entered hi tone now as he continues before the temporary captain could start talking back, "Drift is, after all, going to be going back to duty soon. He might need some of your encouragement that you're so famous for."
At this Ultra Magnus just gives him a flat glare. "I get the feeling that it's a lot more than just 'come visit the trouble makers who got themselves hurt by being stupid'." FirstAid didn't say anything to confirm or deny the accusation - however subtle it was coming from the large mech on the other side of the holo-screen. "I'm not going to kiss and tell, Magnus."
This earned the small medic the infamous optic roll that the Second gives the captain and his Amica when they suggest something ridiculous but found enduring. Of course Ultra Magnus, being the stuck up that he is, wouldn't ever say that sometimes he found the two young mechs enduring. It would make him sound like a Sire. And Magnus couldn't ruin his precious stoic reputation after all.
"Does this have something with those notes that you sent me this morning about Drift's...unusual spark fluctuations that happened before Hot Rod suddenly started recovering a lot faster?"
Yeah, it kind of does. FirstAid thought to himself, remembering the scare that he had when Drift's spark went all whacky for that single minute. It made the white and red medic frown thoughtfully behind his mask and his optical ridges furrow deeply as he leans back in his seat. The silence was all that the large mech needed to confirm the question that was asked and Magnus slowly nodded his helm as he gripped his chin in that thinking posture he's picked up from Hot Rod. "Do you think this might coincide with his recent strange behavior? He had acted...most unusual some time ago when I took the two out to get a quick view of the Sea of Rust. Mostly on the prompting of Drift and usually whatever Drift wants Hot Rod goes along with but he seemed..." Ultra Magnus trailed off and FirstAid let him stew in his thoughts as he also thought about the uncanny connection between his past behavior and this... development with his spark that seemed to save Hot Rod from the brink of death. Pits, the young fiery captain had been turning grey before whatever Drift did brought him back from Primus' front door to the Well. Something more is going on around here. I just know it but no one else besides Ultra Magnus has picked up on it from what I can tell. Which I guess is a good thing in this case, Getaway has been awfully nosey as of late in their business so I'm glad he hasn't picked up on Drift's storage behavior and mannerisms. The red and white medic wished he could run his servo down his faceplates but that would require the removal of his facial guards and he didn't want anyone to see his face. I wish Uncle Ratchet was here, he would be able to quickly figure out what the frag is going on here. FirstAid thought sadly. But he knew that was impossible. Ratchet was gone. Possibly offline somewhere in deep space that the Lost Light hasn't been to yet. No point in holding out the hope that his adopted uncle could fix this damned mess.
Only the Lost Light it seems could get itself into such processor ache-inducing scenarios.
Just like that time where they dimension traveled and met an evil Optimus Prime who was corrupted by an evil Primus. Drift hadn't been right for a whole year after that incident. Or that other time they accidentally went into the way distant past where functionists ran rampant and even came into this timeline trying to frag everything up. That was a very very painful three years of nothing but fighting. Both of those happened because they messed with things that were highly suspicious and the time travel was because some alien race wanted to change their past. Ha, and look where that got them. FirstAid thought vindictively with a slight cruel twist to his lips, stuck in an eternal single day loop for the rest of that planets' existence. It was a cruel thing, he supposed, but he could easily admit to himself that they really did bring it on themselves for messing with time like that. No point in saving a race from their own stupidity.
Ah, right, Magnus was speaking now. He should really pay attention instead of thinking about things that make him smile at the misfortune on others that deserve it. I'm probably just bitter... Came a quiet sad thought before the medic shooed it away to focus on the acting-captain. "I think I should observe them. At least for a little while with my own optics while you take some rest." Something must have shown even through his visor if Ultra Magnus was saying he'd cover part of his shift duty. FirstAid just nods his helm slightly, he could feel that medic curse of a deep seeded tiredness in his joints from being on edge for these past few weeks looking after the captain and Third in Command Drift. "You won't hear any complaints from me, sir. Just call for me if they take a turn, I don't want many of the others to find out. It could spiral out of control and cause unnecessary unease." The last time Drift had done anything weird he ended up being brainwashed into being a Deception.
More like a rogue bandit but the same thing nowadays in space.
"Of course FirstAid. I will assume that that's all for any reports that you have on them?" The primarily blue Cybertronian asked and after FirstAid gave a verbal confirmation the call cut, now leaving the medic alone in his quiet office. The slightly small Cybertronian sighs heavily and takes off his visor, letting his mask retract allowing him to cover his faceplates with a servo. "It's going to be a long day..." He mutters under his breath. Bluish red optics scan the datapad on his desk that he had abandoned earlier that day due to getting caught up with other things and scowled at it; his lovely lip-plates twisting into an unattractive downward curl. It was a datapad that he had taken from Hot Rod's office some time ago and he wasn't sure how he felt about the proposal laid within. Oh no, it wasn't a marriage proposal - however much he wished it was one of those - but it was a fragging meet and greet one from the Mistress of Flames.
That would not go well between her and Drift. Or bode well for the rest of the ship really. Two Primus fanatics going at it and talking all that religion would give everyone a processor-ache that even I wouldn't be able to fully cure. The medic thought with no small amount of sarcasm. He held no fondness for the self-proclaimed 'Mistress'. He believed in miracles, held a small amount of belief in some of the religious urban legends only because you don't work on the Lost Light and not become a believer of any variety after all the crap anyone sees around here. Case in point that planet that 'humanely' euthanized the dying by making them live out a near perfect rendition of any fantasies in their last moments. Turns out whoever was killed on that planet was just a fuel source for a greater purpose but considering it somehow brought a missing Tailgate back...it was no short of a miracle. I really need to pitch that datapad before Hot Rod or worse Drift sees it.
But he will do that after he's had an energon goodie. He already has a mild ache in his processor from thinking about their previous adventures.