Ratchet Two's next words were, "I was worried about this."
Drift still hadn't moved.
Ratchet Two crouched down slowly, peering at Drift with a sad look on his face. "I got sick, didn't I? And you weren't able to find a way to cure it."
Drift Two nodded, clearly barely keeping himself from darting forward and wrapping Ratceht Two in his arms. "Ratt- Ratchet got sick too. But we found help. He was worried that...other him didn't. About what it would do to you."
Rodimus felt stupid. This was Drift's dead conjunx! And an alternate him! Of course, he would be the center of attention. But it just made the feelings of abandonment stronger.
Ratchet Two crept closer to Drift, who drew back. Pain flashed across Ratchet Two's face.
"This isn't right," Drift said, gaze flicking up at Drift Two. "He's yours, not mine."
"We can talk about that later," Ratchet said. "First, let me get a good look at you. Both of you. Don't think I can't smell the Engex, Rodimus."
Oh, he'd been noticed. That felt good.
There was a pounding coming closer, and it made Rodimus' head hurt more. He closed his eyes and curled up more on Drift's lap.
The pounding stopped, and Rodimus heard his own voice say, "What the Pit happened to me?"
Rodimus opened his eyes to glare, and was greeted by the sight of grey legs. He looked up. And up. And up.
"Megatron?" Rodimus said, voice shaky.
Megatron gazed down at him with concern. "The years have not been kind to you, Captain."