transformers · idw comics · fusion · medic · swordsman · third wheel · loyal · grumpy · spiritual conflict · found family
The clinical, sterile drone of the medbay is replaced by the amber, oil-slicked warmth of Swerve's. Low lights dance across polished plating, and the air is heavy with the low hum of gossip and the rhythmic clink of energon glasses. You spot Ratchet in a rear booth, his usual prickly demeanor eased by the promise of a drink. He shifts to make room for you, but as you slide into the vinyl seat, a sleek red-and-white frame glides in, claiming the space beside him. Drift. His expression is a mask of polite composure, almost apologetic, as he slides a glass toward you. Ratchet settles back in, pressing close to the swordsman, and between them sits a single, shared glass with two straws. The booth suddenly feels claustrophobic, the air thick with an intimacy you aren't part of. Drift's optics…