sunchime | [ open post: drift ]

"Yeah, everybody knows. We were on Luna-1, uh--it's a long story, and one that you should hear, but to this particular point... a killswitch had been put together to murder everyone who'd ever been constructed cold. Rodimus and our half of the Matrix were rigged up to something to stop it, and it might have killed him, so he told Magnus and everybody else what had happened with Overlord in case he didn't make it."

Ratchet sees those dents and scrapes, his fingers itching to do something about them, but he stays quiet for now.

"He did, for the record, he's fine. But everybody still knew, after that."

Drift should probably be inured to the sheer inanity of the Lost Light's usual adventures, but somehow finding a dead Metrotitan doesn't really seem to rank. His mouth opens as soon as Ratchet says Luna-1 and it stays open for a good few moments after he's done talking.

"You found Luna-1?" Okay, a cold-constructed killswitch is equally crazy, but it isn't one of Cybertron's great mysteries. He's absurdly relieved to hear that Rodimus is alright -- if something had happened to him while Drift was gone... He rubs his forehelm, trying to process all that at once. It's not as though he doesn't understand a guilty conscience. "Right. Well -- that makes sense, I guess. So that's when you left to come find me?"

Edited 2017-11-15 18:30 (UTC)

Ratchet's shoulders hunch in a little and the corners of his mouth tighten.

"...no. Not quite then. Some stuff happened in between. Shockwave almost ended the world, for a bit, some time travel happened, and--oh, yeah, Brainstorm's a Decepticon. Was a Decepticon. A really bad one, actually. It was... complicated." Ratchet shakes his helm a little. "It hasn't been that long since I set out looking for you. I should have come sooner."

If it were anyone else -- or if Ratchet had any other expression on his face -- Drift might suspect Ratchet was just trying to mess with him. But no, this is...entirely serious. Brainstorm's a Decepticon? Time travel? Shockwave trying to -- wait, no. That one doesn't sound quite as insane.

"Well, I was going to ask you what you guys have been up to in the last year, but I guess that pretty much answers my question." He shakes his head and waves Ratchet off. "You clearly had your hands full, Ratchet. I don't need should. Live in the moment, remember?"

Ratchet hesitates, watching Drift for a moment before he shakes his helm

"A lot happened. We have enough of a ride back to the ship to go over it all." He eyes Drift critically for a moment as he keys in the homing signal and sets the autopilot. "You, however, look like you haven't bothered with maintenance since you left. I'm not shocked, but are you all right?"

A lot to talk about is right. Drift waves off Ratchet's concern with an entirely irritating smile.

"I'm fine, Ratchet. I'm still running, aren't I?" A medical interrogation is not what Drift really wants right now. Fortunately for him, he spots a convenient subject change in the form of what looks like a little toy figure on the dashboard, apparently having toppled over at some point.

"Oh, hey, what's this little guy?" He picks it up delicately with two fingers and holds the toy up. His optics brighten and he lets out a little laugh. "Is this supposed to be me?"

"'Still running' and 'fine' are not exactly the same thing, Drift," Ratchet says severely before he's drawn up short. He'd meant to put that away before Drift got back on the shuttle, but considering everything that had happened...

Ratchet shrugs a little. "There's a new member of the crew--a couple new members, actually, but this one makes miniatures. He had one of almost everybody, but he'd never met you, so I--" He gestures at the little figurine. "I did one for him, so he could see."

"You made this?"

It might come off as incredulous from someone else (like, say, Rodimus), but Drift just looks...kind of delighted. Maybe it's just because he's tired, and the last day or so has put him through the wringer, more emotionally than mentally, but the usual façade is gone. No false optimism or cheer -- just a real smile. Those have been pretty rare as of late. Drift holds the little figure up to the light, turning it over with a curious eye.

"And then you took it with you." He lowers his hand and holds the figure out to Ratchet. "I guess 'cause you were planning on bringing the real thing back."

Ratchet looks at the figure for a moment, his expression utterly unreadable before he cycles his vents softly.

"It was harder than I expected. Leaving, I mean." His optics find Drift's again. "Having a reminder of why I was doing it helped."

Drift had been surprised to see Ratchet -- even more surprised at his vehement insistence that Drift come back to the Lost Light. Even after things had gotten better between them, sincerity had never really been their language, and this, here, is somehow harder to grapple with than Ratchet berating him. A little uncomfortable, even -- but better. Definitely better.

"Leaving home is never easy." Drift stretches his arms over his head and breaks contact with Ratchet to stare up at the ceiling. "But it's not like you never intended to go back."

"I hadn't really had a home to leave in a long, long time," Ratchet says, his optics intent on Drift's face even as Drift looks away. "And leaving it for the sake of a friend was hard.

"But I figured you'd understand."

Still uncomfortable. Still massively uncomfortable. For all his big talk about being true to yourself, there are few people Drift can handle this level of sincerity from, and Ratchet hasn't historically been on that list. Still better, yeah, but Drift, a little more worn out than he's ready to admit, keeps stretching and staring up at the ceiling.

"I do." He smiles faintly, briefly. Not a façade this time, either. "I mean -- maybe I didn't right away, it was -- well, you know. But -- that's kind of why I left, too. Not just for a friend, but -- for everyone."

Ratchet frowns, folding his arms and shifting a little.

"What the hell do you mean, 'for everyone'?" His voice is rougher now, struggling to keep a tight lid on his frustration. "Rodimus threw you under the bus, and you let him--having to pick you up off the deck so you could get to your shuttle didn't really do a whole lot for me, personally, so if I count as part of 'everyone' you can rule that right out."

"What?" Drift's gaze jerks back to Ratchet's face, his brow furrowed. "Threw me under the bus? Ratchet, no -- that's not what happened at all."

So apparently 'everyone knows about Overlord' doesn't mean that Rodimus told anyone the full story. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised. Drift sighs, lowering his arms and sitting forward in his seat.

"Ratchet, the leaving -- the exile, the revocation of the Reintegration Act -- that was my idea. I told Rodimus that I was going to take the fall."

Ratchet stares at him for a moment, unable to force the words Drift is saying into any kind of intelligible order.

"I'm sorry, what? You--" He scoffs a laugh, his optics pale. "You're telling me that you threw away everything you've worked for since New Crystal City--your command, your friends, your life--and you did it, what, voluntarily? It was your idea? Go on, tell me another."

Unfortunately, there is no punchline here. Drift's expression doesn't change.

"Yes, Ratchet, it was my idea." He hesitates a moment, then vents out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his helm. "Look, I know you're going to laugh at me, but I want you to know that I'm being serious here. At Vector Sigma, when I had that near-death experience -- it wasn't just a spiritual awakening, Ratchet. I had a vision."

Edited 2017-11-17 05:01 (UTC)

"Yeah, I remember Vector Sigma, when I had to put you back together after you ran yourself through! I recall vividly, thank you!"

Ratchet stops, drawing a slow vent of cool air into his system.

"You," he says, his voice very deliberate, "let Rodimus blame you for an event that could have caused the brutal murder of the entire ship, strip you of your Autobrand, and exile you because you had... a vision?"

Okay, so Ratchet's not laughing. That doesn't really feel like a good thing right now.

"Yes," he says, with a little more emphasis this time, "and because you know I wouldn't throw any of those things away for a trivial reason, you see how important it was. I know what you're thinking, Ratchet, but it was important. It isn't all clear to me still, but this whole quest, the search for the Knights of Cybertron...it can't happen without Rodimus. He has to stay with the Lost Light. I couldn't afford to put any of that in jeopardy by being selfish."

"Selfish? Selfish? You think--you know what, maybe you should have informed Rodimus that it was so damn important, because after we were done on Luna-1 he had a vote! He had everybody vote to see if they wanted him to stay captain and said he'd step down if a majority voted against him."

Ratchet is venting hard before he stops, something cold detonating in his tanks, and it shows on his face. He recovers after a moment, trying not to think of the look on Rodimus' face when Ratchet told him he'd voted against.

"He won, as it happens, with no help from me. But don't you talk about being selfish. That's his job."

"I did tell him," Drift starts to say, twisting in his station chair to look intently at Ratchet, "he tried to get me to stay, but I told him it was too important -- "

Except the news about the vote hits Drift at a bad angle, catches him off guard, and his optics flicker, and for a moment he looks a little hopelessly dumbfounded.

"What? He had a -- what?" Why the hell would Rodimus risk losing his position when Drift had sacrificed everything to make sure he kept it? Drift rubs his face again, sitting back in the station chair. "I mean -- no one was supposed to find out, anyway, but -- a vote?" Slowly, Drift pulls his hands away from his face and looks back at Ratchet. "And you voted for him to leave?"

"A vote," Ratchet says angrily. "But yeah, a vote to see if he'd stay captain not if he'd get thrown off the ship, and of course I voted against him, he made you leave over something that wasn't even your fault! "

That last bit had risen to a shout without Ratchet even noticing and he catches himself and closes his teeth on anything else he would have said, settling back in his chair.

"I gave him a nice big piece of my mind before I left, too, about how unfair and irresponsible it was, and the fact that you volunteered doesn't change that in the slightest."

The shock fades and Drift's jaw tenses. He shakes his head adamantly. "I wouldn't take no for an answer, Ratchet. He tried to stop me. I told him what he needed to do."

Somebody sure does love taking sole responsibility for things that aren't entirely his fault. Knowing about the vote, though -- that stings, because even Drift is clear-sighted enough to see that that had to have been more about Rodimus's ego than anything else. Drift had told him how important it was that he stay, that he see things through. Maybe that hadn't been enough for him. Maybe he'd felt too burdened with guilt, or...something.

"I can't pretend to know what was on Rodimus's mind when he called for a vote," Drift says evenly, absently clenching a hand around one sword hilt. "But this was never about fairness, Ratchet. It was about doing what was best for the crew. And I still believe it was the right thing to do. That the crew still wants him in place now, months after it happened, that's good -- but how do you think everyone would have reacted if the whole story had come out right after? When everyone was still feeling raw, when we were still holding funerals? The ship would have fallen apart, Ratchet. We would have failed."

Ratchet mutters something unflattering and likely vulgar, though it's not clear precisely at whom it's directed.

"Yeah, I'm sure he put a lot of effort into it," he says, scowling. "I doubt Rodimus knows what's on Rodimus' mind a solid third of the time, but it doesn't matter. I still--"

The words are cut short and Ratchet looks away, his optics dimming as he cycles his vents slowly.

"I still hate that it happened. And sure, fine, Rodimus didn't force you, but I'm still not sorry I came to bring you home."

At least Ratchet all crotchety and cursing is familiar, and weirdly comforting, now that they're no longer locked in a cell or being shot at.

"I'm not sorry either." Drift eyes the little figure, and he doesn't quite smile, but his optics do glow a little brighter. He really isn't. He couldn't have ever let himself even want to go home until Ratchet showed up, and somewhere deep in him, he still has reservations, but...he's ready to go home. "It's not like I was happy to leave, either, but -- I still stand by what I did, Ratchet. If I had to, I'd make the same choice."

"Yeah, fine," Ratchet says, clearly not interested in the slightest in discussing whether or not Drift would leave again if pressed. He huffs air from his vents and settles back.

"...look," he says slowly. "There are--I need to tell you, a lot's happened since you were gone."

[ open post: drift ]

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