Highs and woes part 5
"Congratulations." Ratchet smiled, offering the datapad containing the spark scans for yet another happy couple. This one twice as happy as normal; turns out both of the partners had a newspark orbiting their own.
They both gasped in surprise, and hugged each other, going through the scans on the datapad. Ratchet swore at least one of them was crying.
Scheduling their next check-up, Ratchet set them on their way, both still visibly bewildered, and bid them farewell.
As the door closed, Ratchet turned around, leaning his back on the door, closed his optics and left out an audible sigh.
Thank Primus those were the last patients scheduled for today. He had the rest of the evening for catching up with paperwork.
His tanks churned, empty, and he felt dizzy. Ratchet had tried low-grade for breakfast and lunch. Mid-grade simply didn’t suit him anymore, though low-grade wasn't much better. It didn't hurt his tanks like mid-grade, but he burned through low-grade so quick it was ridiculous.
Taking yet another cube of low-grade from subspace, and downed it in one gulp. The liquid tasted like slag and made the poor medic grimace.
Ratchet wasn't getting any younger, that was what this was about. Stress had always affected his tanks, and he had barely had time to rest properly ever since returning to Cybertron, and everything else. All he needed was to try to remember to consume oil on a regular basis, and avoid mid-grade. Nothing much could be helped.
After a few hours of filling in paperwork though, the medic noticed his processor stalling as his optics got heavier and heavier. Suddenly, all that was heard was a loud thud and the sound of his stylus falling on the floor. Ratchet had passed out on his desk.