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

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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?"

Comments

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Nightwish is silent and still, unaware of anything around her. Even her pain is muted now.

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Nonethless, her presence is still there. Thunderclash is aware of that, and he holds onto it with a dim sense of satisfaction.

The Emergency Team, meanwhile, haul Thunderclash to the door, and Makeshift presses the buzzer. Twice. There's no answer.

"I thought you called ahead," he snaps at Firebot.

"Yeah. I did. Guess she's really not in." The red Minicon shifts his load, seemingly oblivious to the horrified stares he's getting. Makeshift looks like he's going to splutter, though Prowl relaxes after a nanoclick."Take this a minute."

Makeshift does as ordered, still glaring at his leader as Firebot moves over to the door.

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-Hold onto her,- says an unfamiliar voice to the ailing Minicon. -That's right.-

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Thunderclash almost panics at the new one. It helps that his emotion circuits are too worn out to process much at this point. No. Get a grip, 'Clash. It's a hallucination, or you're hearing the medic funny.

Or. Or Nightwish has a personality disorder he never found out about. This is very possible, to his mind.

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-I'm a friend,- the voice is soothing. -I'm not looking at your mind. Just hold onto your prize... the worst will be over soon.-

[backupbots.livejournal.com]

Sorry... 'friend'... but I have a hard time trusting... telepaths. He can't do much about it when it's telling him to do what he planned to anyway, but he can be suspicious.

Besides, he has excellent reason to mistrust friendly voices offering advice to him when he's down. It's all rather ironic.

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It becomes apparent that whoever this is, they can't hear what he's saying as they only offer more reassurance instead of replying to his thoughts.

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He doesn't feel reassured, but then he's not coherent enough to feel much beyond the dizziness...

...And the slightly detached shock as his shell is laid on a workbench.

"You have access codes to other people's labs," Makeshift says flatly.

Firebot looks over his shoulder and winks at his team-mate. "Yeah. Privilege of rank, kinda."

"You should've realised," Prowl comments (smugly). "I did. He always gets that face when he's got a plan."

Makeshift shakes his head, running round the lab to pull out equipment - he's been here often enough to know where things are.

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And Nightwish sleeps on, unaware of everything around her. With the closeness of the two sparks it might be hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

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Makeshift's planning to cheat - kind of. To be specific, he's bringing every big-aft piece of equipment and high-powered medical scanner in the room online and directing the others to aim them at Thunderclash/Nightwish.

And then? Well, all he can do is adapt the jet's systems to cater to two sparks as best he can, and make sure those systems stay online.

Later

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Nightwish groans as awareness returns, bringing with it a sinking feeling of weakness and illness. She reaches out with her senses, then panics slightly when all she can hear or see are thoughts and memories that she doesn't recognize. -What's going on??-

Re: Later

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Her fear rouses Thunderclash from the foggy semi-stasis he's drifted into. Quiet, he thinks vaguely. Makeshift's working. Stay calm.