2018-11-06 Farewells

From Transformers: Lost and Found

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Date 2018/11/06
Location Lost Light - Science and Medical - Medibay
Participants Penchant, Rodimus

Half a cycle passes, and it's the "night" shift when the medics swap out. Recovery ward lights have been dimmed. Penchant is pleasantly loopy with painkillers when he rouses, optics finally dry of energon. There's a distant ache, like a faint pinch, but it doesn't bother him as he sits up on the oversized slab and takes in his surroundings. "Drift?" His pink-hued vision refocuses on Rodimus' bright armor nearby. "...Rodimus. How'd..."

Rodimus is awake and paying attention and definitely doesn't startle upright out of a light doze when Penchant speaks. It's true that a datapad does go clattering off of his lap and onto the floor, but he's kind of a mess sometimes. That proves nothing. It's also true that his eyes brighten from standby dark to brilliant focus, but sometimes you keep the lights down out of respect for others. This also proves nothing. "Penchant!" It's a hushed greeting for all the warmth as Rodimus leans forward and folds his arms on the side of the slab, leaning forward to do so. This brings his head to and then below Penchant's level as he rests his head on his arms. "Hey, how're you feeling?"

Penchant spends a few seconds working through the grogginess that comes with a hard reboot, as he watches Rodimus lean in with that brightness of his. "Feel like I went up against the most psychically powerful Cybertronian in existence. That was a stupid idea." He starts to pull off the drips attached to his frame. "Did Soundwave send you here?"

"Whoa, hold up, let me get a medic." Rodimus reaches to still Penchant's hand when he begins to pull, leaning back and standing to catch someone's attention. No, not you Vortex, go get First Aid. "I was already on my way, passed Soundwave at the door. He had to go. Said you guys argued. You lashed out." His gaze sweeps over Penchant, and he looks -- briefly -- very aware of the fact that Penchant is the one in here, and Soundwave is the one who walked away. "What happened? Do you need to -- talk to Max?"

"Talk to Max...?" Penchant continues to pry free of tubing until First Aid comes along. He's wordless as he properly removes Penchant's tethers.

"Sorry to ruin your dramatic escape," First Aid says, wearily, "But I don't need you bleeding again."

Penchant settles with a grumpy look that only intensifies when he starts to remember the biting words exchanged. And... Rodimus. Who he stares at. "Hey, look, I'm not going to dodge the topic. You don't deserve it. I told Soundwave I couldn't be on his team anymore." When First Aid finishes up and steps aside, Penchant promptly slides off the berth. "It... breaks my spark to see you with him. I can't do it. I'm going back to my colony."

Rodimus fingerguns a thanks at First Aid, but waits to pick up his thread until after he's stepped aside. By that point -- well, Penchant's gone and blown his words up, leaving shrapnel behind. He blinks at him. Stupidly. (Unattractively.) "I-- hang on. You're leaving?" He sounds wounded for a slip of a second, then rapidly scrambles to lock it down. "I mean, you're free to. I support you, of course, just. He ... didn't say any of that."

"I just decided. I'm sorry I can't take you. But I want you to keep an eye on how Soundwave treats cassettes. I mean really treats them. Is Tempo's spacebridge functional yet? I'd like to leave in the next hour." Penchant seemingly keeps trying to break his gaze, but his focus lingers on Rodimus' face, spark sinking by the second.

Rodimus's face gives everything away, as it always does, even without an outlier's senses or powers: he looks at a loss, he looks lost, he looks as though the loss of it all is hitting him, right now. And there's a scramble in there, a struggle to push past it, past his own feelings, to try to see Penchant. His gaze lingers on Penchant, too, sweeping over his features. "I'll take care of the details. If the spacebridge isn't functional, we'll get you on a ship. I think it is, although they're still debugging the mess." After a slight pause, he says, "I would've liked to see it. Maybe -- sometime."

Penchant raps his knuckles against the side of his leg in an anxious tic. "I appreciate it. Maybe, sometime." He takes a single step backwards, then pauses. "Rodimus," he begins, voice quiet. "What did I do wrong?"

Bewildered, Rodimus asks, "Wrong?" It does not compute.

"Are you really going to make me spell it out?" Penchant asks, a little louder with an edge of upset.

"Just--." Rodimus gestures, palms down, and sinks back into his chair. Hang on, he has to think. Carefully threading Penchant's logic, he asks, "You -- liked me. Like me? And you think you did something wrong? Penchant, I had no idea. You told me to stop flirting with you! I mean, you were right, I shouldn't have."

"You... didn't know." Penchant rubs his hands over his helm guards. "I didn't- I was just- I wasn't sure if you were... serious about it. I wanted you to be serious about it. But none of this matters if I didn't even make a blip on your radar." He pinches the edges of his helm brim, slides his fingers off as if dusting it, and shakes his head. "I'm heading to Tempo. Goodbye, Captain."

Rodimus's hand, wrist, entire arm twitches in a spasm, an aborted attempt to reach for Penchant that he checks, then rethinks, and allows to continue. He reaches Penchant, palm up, not to grab him, but in the offer of his hand. ] Penchant stares at the open palm for a long moment. He takes it and his fingers curl tightly. The first little prickle of doubt works its way onto his face, furrowing his brow, making him bite his lip. It's not supposed to feel right, he tells himself.

When Penchant takes his hand, Rodimus slips from his seat to kneel on the floor and draw him closer. He reaches with his other hand for Penchant, but hesitates. He waits, in an offer, for Penchant to step inside the reach of his arm, while keeping his other hand. "You didn't do anything wrong," he says quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't see you. Before you go, can I--?"

Can he engage in a mildly bad decision? Can he makes things even worse for Penchant? CAN HE?

Penchant should tug away, but Rodimus is offering something that's far too tempting. So he goes still, frozen, optics rounded in anticipation. His nod is wooden but clear. Yes. Yes please. It's probably a really bad idea, but yes please.

Rodimus isn't huge. Like, he's a lil bigger than average now, a lil, but Penchant is small enough that it's familiar to Rodimus, the way his touch surrounds Penchant to pull him closer. He doesn't pick him up. He is very careful not to pick him up. That's a familiar practice, too. He releases Penchant's hand to lift his chin, and tilts his head past the brim of his helm to catch him in a kiss, sweet and warm and gentle.

It's wistful; it's apologetic.

It's still probably a bad idea.

Oh who cares if it's ill-advised. Penchant positively melts against Rodimus' lips, fingers curling where they rest atop the speedster's arms. It's hard not to linger, hard not to really draw it out. It's clear that Penchant wants to, by how he rocks on his feet to deepen it. But terror knocks his spark out of its heady daze, and Penchant pulls away, stumbling back a few steps before turning and bolting.

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