Any way, I saw this meme and my immediate thought was to draw Riptide, 'cuz and I hope I'm not going crazy here - HE FITS HERE PERFECTLY (any other bot with aquatic alt mode just doesn't fit here XD)
First Aid / Riptide Hanahaki, for @thebirdkiwi. 2K words comm.
On Earth, First Aid had encountered a flower with an interesting name. Astragalus, they called them. Milkvetch, goatās-thorn, locoweed. First Aid remembered it well, because heād brought a bundle of them back with him before he was stationed on Delphi. Other mechs that came to his clinic would sometimes ask after them, and First Aid answered honestly, that he just thought they looked interesting, that their clinical effects on humans were equally as interesting too. Quite a few mechs, though- the ones with an interest in that sort of thing- thought they were very pretty. First Aid remembered Ambulon had been one of them, and First Aid had mentioned that their English word meant something along the lines of bone, if you looked to the root of it, something somewhat medical if you imagined it. It had been one of the first things First Aid had ever said to Ambulon.Ā
The flowers died long before they made it to Delphi. First Aid hadnāt minded, really, but Ambulon had beenā¦ sad? Maybe. This was before First Aid had been able to know Ambulon like the back of his own servo, so the memory is foggy, and what might have been sadness could very well have been something else. It was just flowers, after all. But First Aid remembers it anyway. Just like he remembers trying to make it up to his new coworker, his friend- finding that book on flower poetry, from some time on Earth. Sending a copy to Ambulon too. Look, First Aid had said. Astragalus means, āyour presence softens my painā.Ā
Ambulon thought it was funny.
But it isnāt so funny now.Ā
Time passes and doesnāt stop moving forward, First Aid knows. Those flowers are long dead, and even their memory is fuzzy around the edges, just like how time will make Ambulonās image into something faint. The adventure of the Lost Light is fun and daring, and the new dimension is something First Aid had never even thought possible, but it loses part of its luster as First Aid sits in the medical bay. Earth lays outside the window; humans from a different time, four deca-cycles earlier than First Aid had ever met them. Different vehicles on the road and different music on their radios.Ā
The same astragalus, on his desk.Ā
Riptide had come in earlier and brought them. Heād remembered them from all those years ago- First Aid can remember it now, too. Blue and white mech, standing in the clinic, peering curiously at the flowers in the vase, the way the pink petals caught blue optic-light. An excited smile.Ā
First Aidās digit reaches out, brushes the petals carefully. His mask lays on the desk beside it, and one of the petals has already fallen off onto it, from where Riptide had tried to arrange them like heād seen. First Aid smiles a little, but it disappears as he hears the medbay door open. And quickly, he slots his mask back on. He should get back to work.
ā------------------------
The toxin in Astragalus is called Swainsonine. First Aid canāt find any studies on humans that deal with it, but thereās plenty on their horses. Lethargy, depression, erratic behavior,Ā
incoordination. First Aid has been looking these symptoms over on loop, because- because-
Because heās looking in the mirror now, and his faceplate is off, and thereās a servoful of flower petals resting in his servo, ones heās just coughed up. More than yesterday.Ā
Someone knocks on the door. First Aid frantically begins to scrub the petals down into the drain, and he knows Ultra Magnus would be having a fit if he knew what First Aid was doing. He manages to get them all down the drain, and heās just starting the clean the pink stains from the edges of his mouth when the door opens, and Riptide peeks his head in.
āOh! Sorry First Aid, I didnāt realize anyone was in here.ā Riptide does look genuinely apologetic. But then his optics just barely manage to catch the sight of the stains on First Aidās mouth, before First Aid covers it back up with his faceplate. āWoah- that doesnāt look good. Are you alright?ā Riptide pushes into the bathroom a little, and First Aid has to take a step back.Ā
āI-ā First Aid begins, and has to stop because his throat wants to cough rebelliously. āIām fine. Itās nothing.ā
Itās something, but First Aid doesnāt know what. Itās not the first time heās coughed up the petals, and itās getting worse. But he doesnāt know what to do, and heās seized by a brief, frantic urge to ask Riptide for- something. Help, maybe? Help with what?Ā
āAre you sure? You donāt look so good, either, Aidā¦āĀ
āIām fine.ā First Aid repeats, and pushes past his friend. It was a mistake to try and go out to the bar today when heās being haunted by these flowers, haunted by Ambulonās favorite damned flower, when Ambulon is dead and wonāt ever be coming back. First Aid manages to dodge the doorframe as he stumbles out of the bar, wishing heād gotten a drink as he hurries back to the medbay. And as he enters, he sees the vase of astragalus on his desk. What had been Ratchetās desk. Who now occupies Ambulonās desk.Ā
With an abrupt, snarled cry, First Aid yanks the vase of flowers from his desk and- momentarily- makes to throw them into the trash. Holds them in the air, though, andā¦ doesnāt.Ā
Instead, he casts his optics down, and gently sets the vase back onto his desk. Even with his careful tending, theyāre beginning to lose their luster, and a few petals have dislodged from the sudden movements. And suddenly, First Aid feels far, far tireder than he had been mere moments ago. The medbay is empty. Velocity is out with the others at the Earth base. Ratchet is with Drift. And First Aid is alone with a vase of flowers, and alone, he coughs dryly behind his mask. Without anyone else around, the sound has nowhere else to go but echo raspily through the space. Cough, cough, cough.Ā
ā---------------------
First Aid doesnāt know if he was in love with Ambulon. Thatās a strange thing to think, as he sits below deck, watching the oil cistern glisten in the night lighting. But itās also true. First Aid drops a handful of astragalus petals into the oil, watches them bob in the artificial current. Itās been long enough that he has to think about the question, and long enough that he can barely manage to push past the pain to try and find an answer.
It feels like love. When you know someone long enough, to be trapped with them long enough, to work side-by-side with them long enough. Pharma had been callous even before he had finally lost his mind, and it meant that First Aid and Ambulon truthfully only had each other for their brief company. And when theyād gone to the Lost Light together, it felt like their friendship was different. Different in a good way, but First Aid doesnāt know what that means, now, because it had been cut off before it could even begin. The pain in First Aidās spark is so deeply set that trying to unravel it just twists it further up. Theyād been like one single sentence, for the longest time, First Aid - and - Ambulon. Even when First Aid had made other friends, it was still the same.Ā
First Aid and Ambulon. Then, just First Aid.Ā
First Aid wonders if heās dying. Thereās nothing in his files that say anything about coughing up flowers; nothing about your body aching from the inside, or energon staining his mouth, or being barely able to stay awake at all hours of the day. Heās terrified to take off his faceplate now, and he knows- even if he doesnāt know, he knows that itās only a matter of time until he drowns in his insides, choked out by flower petals that still find ways to worm their ways out of the edges of his mask. He peels another one from the corner and lets it go into the oil. The room feels like itās tilting with the action, and First Aid leans back, his helm swaying. All the edges of panic are dulled, and he finds he doesnāt care very much as his body abruptly pitches forward, and he slides down into the oil reservoir.Ā
Medics are heavy. They have to be, to carry other mechs around. And that means that First Aid slowly sinks to the bottom, lights becoming more and more dim as he descends. His vents expel air, bubbling around him, and he can catch the sight of a few more swirling petals flying away from him as he goes down, down. Itās not like anyone will notice. He feels untethered; he stops at the bottom and doesnāt even bother to move, just lays there, staring upwards. And, morbidly, he takes his faceplate off, just to watch the bloom of flower petals fly outwards from his mouth. If they werenāt killing him, he might be able to see why Ambulon liked them so much.Ā
And, Riptideā¦
Wait- Riptide-
A figure closes in swiftly on First Aid, and First Aidās lights flare in surprise, ambulance siren letting out a startled and muted wail with a flash of lights that illuminates Riptideās frame. The fear on his face. First Aid feels arms wrap around him, words mouthed to him that donāt travel through the oil, and then Riptide is picking First Aid up and moving towards the surface. The movement disturbs the flower petals, and they dance around the pair as they move, dull pinks like splashed energon blood. When they surface, First Aidās body makes a full convulsion, but itās too late to try and cover his mouth to hide the damage thatās been done. He can only hang strangely as Riptide sets him down.Ā
The question reaches back into his mind: did he love Ambulon? He wonders if this is some kind of punishment, to be choked to death all the way to his spark by something Ambulon loved. Loved. No, he doesnāt think he loved Ambulon. Ambulon meant the world to him, but First Aid doesnāt think it was like how he feels now, as he finds his gaze landing on Riptide. Because it was because of Riptide that First Aid went to the oil reservoir. That First Aid had stopped sequestering himself away in his room. And it was Riptide who had thought of First Aid enough to bring flowers; something from Earth, for someone who loved Earth.Ā
Maybe if things were different, Riptide could have loved First Aid too. But now, it feels like there isnāt any time left at all. Just enough time to lay there and melt into this puddle of agony and regret. Astragalus.
āFirst Aid!ā Riptide repeats, again, and First Aid realizes that heās been calling to him. āWhat happened? What were you doing in there? Why are there- wait, youāre bleeding? First Aid! Tell me how I can help! First Aid!ā
āDo you know-ā First Aid manages to slur out, past the petals. āDid you know, what astragalus means?ā He doesnāt wait for a reply. āYour presence softens my pain. I should have told him that.ā
āFirst Aid-ā
First Aid squeezes his optics shut. His helm abruptly jerks. Still, he has to say it. He has to tell him; he never got the chance to tell Ambulon, but he can tell Riptide. Because he remembers this, he remembers Riptide speaking to him in fearful, low tones in the ship as they jetted away from the Lost Light, and he remembers Riptideās awe when First Aid had brought Thunderclash back to life, and he remembers Riptideās smile when he brought in the flower bundle from an obscure memory a lifetime ago to try and make First Aid smile too.
āRiptide. I think I love you.ā
Then, First Aidās optics go dim.Ā
ā----------------
When the hours finally roll past, and the medbay murmurs to life again, First Aid awakens; laying on a medical bed, alive, Riptide asleep in the chair beside him. First Aidās vents intake air, and for the first time in a week, he doesnāt feel himself choking as he does it. And as he opens his mouth, thereās no lingering taste of pink and rot. He finds himself reaching up to touch his mouth, and thereās no petals to be found. As if he had dreamt the entire thing, save for being in the medical bay.Ā
Somewhere, squirreled away deep in his spark, he still feels that lingering ache for Ambulon. But itāsā¦ quieter now, as he looks at Riptide. First Aid opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. Just watching him instead. The light of the Earthās sun filters through the medbay windows, and First Aid sees the little vase of flowers that Riptide has set on his desk. The astragalus are still there, but thereās something else there too now. A flowering bushel of rosemary. And First Aidās mind calls up the file on flower language as he looks it over.
