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Only now was Endeavour beginning to fall apart. She knew it had taken fifty-seven hours, nineteen minutes, and six seconds to get Ratchet's body back to something resembling normal. It was a complete hack job and it had left him with some rather disfiguring scars that resembled amateur welds along his middle. Still, in time, they would diminish as his own CPU took over the healing processes started by her, Jeimu's, and Uzulee's combined efforts.
They'd done an admirable job, all things considered. But Endeavour was left to reflect on the feeble wavering that she'd felt as she'd replaced his spark. He'd almost died. None of them could accurately tell how long it would have taken - how much of a delay would have done him in - before their efforts would have been futile. And then she'd heard his voice as though he were speaking directly into her aural receivers. Telling her once again that no, death and destruction did not cling to her like lint on a spacefaring window. That this wasn't her fault.
Even if that were the case, it was still a cruel coincidence that the worthless excuse for a creature that passed as a human who had laid that trap had almost taken the 'Bot she loved away from her.
Oh, of course, there was that issue as well. The fact that she'd been stubbornly clinging to feelings that he had - probably just as stubbornly - refused to acknowledge or act upon was making this entire ordeal even harder. It also explained why she was here in the darkened room, watching him as he rested on his bunk. She'd kept a neutral distance between them for most of her vigil, despite the fact that they were always so close when he was up and online. She figured it'd be inappropriate if she were to be so close to him while he was unconscious. It might send the wrong message.
She sighed. Who cares? flittered through her CPU and she crept closer, taking his hand that draped over the side of the bunk in both of hers.
"You probably can't hear me," she began, "but this'll make me feel better, at any rate. It's a welcome thing to be able to speak my mind, I suppose, when you're not entirely online as to admonish me about how childish you think I'm being."
A sigh. "I learned a lot these past two-and-a-half solar cycles, you know. About myself. About you - well, actually, I saw more of you than I'd like - and... what exactly it is you mean to me." She lifted her head to look into his face and wondered if there was anything within him that was functional enough to hear this. She wanted him to hear what she was about to say.
Her voice pulled at him through static and blackness and pain... and he listened, remembering the day... yesterday? His chrono wasn't working... or he couldn't see it. But Jeimu had cornered him as he'd visited the gas tank while Endeavour had taken her daily flight.
"You're such an idiot!" the tiny woman had informed him. "She's still convinced she's going to die in three years! Why can't you just let her live?"
-Let her live.- His spark ached as Endeavour's words continued.
"I... I know you think I'm young, and naive, and that I barely have a handle on myself. But the truth is... I've seen enough, both in this form and the other one, to know exactly what's going on. And you had nothing to do with this. Nothing you did caused me to feel this way. I just... I've always felt a connection with you. You get me more than anyone else."
She paused and sighed again, leaning over and touching her forehead to the back of his hand as her emotional processes came to the forefront. Soon enough she was shaking, air intakes straining to cool down her overworked processing units. A human would say she was trying to catch her breath.
His hand moved, just a faint twitch that was meant to be turning to cup her cheek. On the bunk, Ratchet groaned as he struggled to come online.
She barely noticed as she spoke quietly to the ground. "And I love you... please. Just let me love you."
"(...Deavour....)" His voice was scratchy even for Cybertronian, but her name in his native language seemed to hold centuries of meaning.
All she could do was scoot closer to the bed. "I'm sorry," she intoned. "I had to say something... just in case you couldn't..." She fought through her emotions and realized the strain he was putting on himself. "But don't hurt yourself," she whispered. "I don't want to go through that again."
There was the faint hiss of metal against metal as his other hand... the arm that hadn't had to be reattached, moved across his torso and tugged at her weakly, trying to get her to move closer.
She let herself acquiesce to the unspoken request and gently let go of the hand she'd been holding, folding it gently back against his chest before settling down beside him in the bunk. "You should rest," she said quietly.
He wanted to hold her; wanted to comfort her. But he couldn't do more than rock slightly as he tried to turn on his side or get his arms to obey him. His scarred face showed frustration.
"Shh." She placed a hand on his chest. "It's okay..." She couldn't read his thoughts or anything, but he was clearly put out by the fact that his body wasn't quite up to responding. "It's only been a few hours since we got you out of there. You might be okay to sit up in a day's time. Until then..." She grinned to herself. "...I'm not going anywhere."
Which was true. If anyone had a problem with this particular arrangement, Endeavour mused, they could kiss her aft.
He settled back and looked up at her, then finally got his good arm to listen and put a hand to her cheek. -Let her live.-
She felt her own spark wavering just a little bit, albeit in a way that left her feeling slightly... dizzy. It was better than a shock from the electrical wires. She moved slightly so as to be more comfortable, scaling her wings down even more. She laid her head on his shoulder and smiled. She'd already said what needed to be said, and although she wanted very much for him to repeat the sentiment, she figured that would just be too much of a good thing.
So she lay silently, watching his face, scanning him every so often to make sure he was still mending.
Ratchet rested for a moment, optics shuttered as he realized that his com was offline even more than his voice, then moved again, looking down as his hand went to the back of Endeavour's head. -If I can't say it....-
She stirred, looking up at him, emanating a general sense of confusion. "Hm?"
He gently set his mouth to hers, then winced as his awareness fizzled and he spiraled back down into blackness.
It was a soft jolt; and yet it shocked Endeavour right down to her spark. Clearly it had done something similar to Ratchet, as he was back offline again. But he'd be fine. This she knew. And when he woke up and could function, it seemed like they would have a lot to talk about.
But for now, there was only this. And she was okay with that. She realized that she hadn't recharged herself in any fashion for a very long time, put her head on his shoulder again and eventually followed him into rest.
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