A Grim Discovery
Seeing Brainstorm is a relief. Or at the very least, it prevents the dark pall that was pressing down on him from smothering him completely. His helm shifts from side-to-side, mouth working as more words the reject, deny this eventuality come forth. But quiet, stilted, like there’s part of him really does know.
Swerve can’t even entirely process what he’s feeling—it’s still shock and a huge dose of denial—so he has no issue following Brainstorm’s lead. He takes off down the hall after the jet, and when his little minibot legs can’t keep up he folds into his alt, ricocheting off the wall once and then he’s off after Brainstorm again.
He’s right on Brainstorm’s heels as they enter medbay, echoing he scientist’s calls because louder meant better right? The sooner they got all this done with the sooner they could go back to watching movies in the wee dark hours.
He had put Rewind in cold storage, saved Chromedome’s life, and was going to search for Eject, actually — until Dangerous and Dangerous-er burst into the medbay. Well, at least that cut down search time!
However, First Aid’s featureless face fell at the sight of the grey frame in Brainstorm’s arms. That was not good news - he had expected it only due to Rewind’s passing, but it was still unsettling to see a mech he had trusted to guard some of his deepest secrets laying stoic in alt mode, like a piece of useless equipment. It was almost surreal - because Eject wasn’t laughing dryly or telling him ‘Hey First, I’m fine!’.
His vocalizer decided to work only after a few moments of gawking incredulously. “Get him to a berth,” he spat, already running for the drips - and boy, he felt like he was going to be using those things a lot this next week. “Brainstorm, how long has he been like this, do you know? I need as many stats as possible and I won’t be able to get many if his spark pulse hasn’t been reacting for over a few minutes.”
And oh - First Aid knew Brainstorm was smart and collected and of course, worried about one of the most inspirational mechs on the Lost Light — but Swerve looked absolutely panic-stricken, and it nearly broke the young medic’s spark to see the look on his face.
“Swerve, you can take a seat if you feel you need it, I don’t want you up and about if you’re not feeling well,” he urged in a calm tone, even as he rushed back over with hardwire scanners in his hand, wasting no time to prep.
It won’t take First Aid long to see that any attempt at treatment won’t be necessary. The minibot is dead, without even a whisper of a sparkbeat left in him. The antennae isn’t exactly limp—it’s too spindly, with too few joints, to lie flat—but as Brainstorm lays it on the berth, a single data cable comes loose and unspools, dangling over the side of the berth lifelessly and clanking against the floor.
Eject always had a tendency to run cool, not being equipped with an engine designed to propel a mobile alt-mode, and by the time First Aid reaches him and touches his gunmetal-gray plating for the first time, it will be nearly cold to the touch.
The force that made this odd little machine Eject is very simply gone. There’s nothing left but a hunk of nonfunctional equipment.
Seeing First Aid walk into the room made Brainstorm’s own features take on a look of mild relief. Ratchet often talked up his apprentice, and knowing what Ratchet himself was capable of and hearing just how much faith he put in First Aid… Well, the weapons engineer couldn’t help but have a high opinion of the young medic too.
Not that he’d ever purposely show it, of course. Brainstorm had an appearance and reputation to keep up!
He quickly but gingerly placed Eject’s remains—no, Eject. Eject, dammit!—onto the nearest berth as instructed, and remained close to his fallen friend.
“I… We don’t know. Swerve found him in a hallway just a few kliks ago. He was already like this.” The jet placed one hand beside him on Swerve’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
His touch didn’t seem to help Swerve as much as he’d have liked. The minibot was wide-eyed with barely-restrained panic, and the more Brainstorm watched him, the more worried he became. “That’s a good idea, First Aid. Swerve…” He motioned to the closest chair. “If you need to sit, that’s…that’s okay.”
As the scientist spoke, he found himself torn between comforting Swerve and doing what he could to help the medic. True, there wasn’t much Brainstorm could do, but there had to be something…
“Is there anything I can h-help you with?” he called to First Aid as he watched his beloved metallurgist, his distress making him stutter, if only for a moment.