Armada-'verse. Cyberton. Wishes in the night.

[random_xtras]

Nightwish blinks as she comes back online, and then quirks a slight grin as she realizes that she's laying on the floor in her quarters, in her favorite place partially underneath her berth. -I made it home. Bonus.-

Then she lifts her head to looks at the tiny being sheltered in the curve of her body, one long finger tracing gently along his helm as she remembers how many times she'd had to rescue him from walking over the edge of the bar the night before. "Hey, 'Clash are you awake yet?"

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[backupbots.livejournal.com]

All right, all right, don't panic...

He has to clear his head, get a grip on where he is. Thunderclash fights to focus on his sensors, and manages to realise that he's still in the air, and his hands are clutching his chestplate. He can hear Makeshift's voice, and someone's tugging him downward by the shoulder. He doesn't like that, but they're firm and strong and he can't fight them now.

He decides to trust the Emergency Team with that one. Reluctantly, he relinquishes his hold on his sensors and turns to deal with the real problem. The Decepticon's in his mind, and hurting. It's her pain he's feeling, and her confusion - or at least hers isn't helping it. There isn't even a decision to try and comfort her: he has to, to make it stop now.

Thunderclash reaches for his store of promises and assurances, and thinks them at her. His thoughts are more than slightly garbled, but the general sense is there. The emotions behind them? Much less so, unfortunately.

Some of it escapes his vocaliser, spoken aloud where Makeshift is getting him to land on a safe patch. "...Fine - worry youself... let me - just..."

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"They've got her spark!" an Autobot voice is calling somewhere in the background, but inside his mind Nightwish hears what he's saying and feeling and instinctively struggles to get control of herself.

-Let you straighten things out....- She flickers, then groans as she surges with pain and nausea. -Ugh.... Can you....-

Her awareness fades abruptly, leaving only the hurting and the sickness.

They've got her spark, but it's damaged, the weak flickering a continuous thing.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Makeshift gets Thunderclash down and starts opening panels to get access to his spark core. Yes, there's two of them there, but Thunderclash's systems were never designed to support two different sparks. And one look at Nightwish's readings tells Makeshift they can't afford to pull her out as she is. Right now, she's not going anywhere.

Which means he has to increase the power flow slightly, alter the structure to make things a little more comfortable... at least the new spark isn't another Minicon. That should make their co-existence a bit easier on the shell around them for now.

Meanwhile, Thunderclash directs more thoughtless comfort to Nightwish, then slowly tries to pull himself together. Someone's at his shell - poking into his shell - and he's too weak to care.

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The cleanup crew supervisor reaches them at last, his grey optics sharp with concern. "Give me a report. Her supervisor wants to know what's going on."

Even unconscious she's partially aware of him, but dizzy and ill as she is the awareness only brings on distorted dreams that flicker at the edge of his thoughts. She fades even as Makeshift watches, but then his alterations take effect and the glowing ball of life rallies weakly.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Makeshift just happens to hunch over his patient as he works so that the other mech can't see exactly what he's working on. "She's alive, but her shell's destroyed. I'll give him all the details he wants after I get her to my repair bay and get her stabilised."

Whereupon he can decide exactly how much anyone else needs to know.

Thunderclash shudders and pushes those thoughts aside as much as he can. He stirs, gaining some semblance of consciousness as his hands move to where Makeshift's working on his internals. His optic band never went off, but now he's actually seeing through it he glances up at the Bulk, and then looks. intently down, holding his hands in front of Makeshift where the other bot can't see them. Maybe it'll look like he's just assisting the medic, if he's insanely lucky

[random_xtras]

"So there's spark damage?" He's been feild trained, but he's no medic. All he can really tell is that the little jet mech doesn't look very happy right now.

And Nightwish's spark is suddenly writhing, fully aware once again and roiling with nausea.

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

So much for lucid. Thunderclash is just about keeping his grip on consciousness as he tries to calm her.

"Yes." Makeshift keeps working. "I can't make any guarantees, but..."

"Makeshift will get her online again," Prowl says confidently, coming up behind Thunderclash. Makeshift spares him a glance, but says nothing.