Glit:

*Through the halls of the Ark echo the forlorn cries of a cat that /desperately wants in a room or it will die./ Glit is sitting outside the medbay doors, giving up on scratching at them, and is letting loose a demanding noise about every breem or so. Just to remind everyone he's still out there waiting to be let in.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Not being completely oblivious to his surroundings today, Convoy's wanderings come to a halt when he hears that noise for the first time.  It's definitely not normal, and it doesn't sound good by any stretch of imagination, and so the semi picks up his pace once more - only now, he's actually hunting out the sound.  It had been close a few minutes earlier, but it's nearly right beside him when he hears it again, and he turns the corner, noting that the medbay was somewhere around here - like right there.*  ...Glit?

Glit:

*Glit emits another of those noises in the direction of the door before whipping around to face Convoy, indignation in every line of his body as he points with a paw at the door.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy blinks and looks at the door curiously, wondering just what's going on - well, there's only one way to find out, really...*  What's happened?

Glit:

*Glit makes a chattering angry noise and lashes his tail with another glare at the door. He's covered in energon, dirt, small scratches, and basically looks like a cassette that has had a very bad, very long day.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Long day indeed.  Convoy doesn't like the fact that Glit isn't responding in a language he's going to understand, and coupling that with the other's expression and appearance...*  ...I think I see what's going on here.  *He wastes no time in walking up to the cassette, bending down and lifting the medic up into his arms.*  Come on, then.

Glit:

*Glit makes a startled noise, but doesn't squirm for freedom right away. He follows that up with an interrogative chirp, looking towards the door hopefully.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy looks at the door briefly for a moment himself, but when he hears voices beyond it, he seems to make up his mind, turning to go.*  I think they've locked you out for a reason, my friend.  *Is that Convoy's hand slightly tightening it's grip to hold on to Glit better?  It could be!*

Glit:

*Glit chatters again in the direction of the door, /distinctly/ not pleased. He does squirm a little, but not nearly so enthusiastically as he did with Ironhide earlier.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy doesn't even slow his pace, knowing fairly well the path to their new destination.*  No.  Whatever it is they're doing, they can get along without you until you can form coherent sentences again.  We're going to get you cleaned up and rested, first.  You can go howling around the medbay after that.  *...It's rather surprising that Convoy's so good with that stern sort of voice, considering his usual demeanor.*

Glit:

*Glit attempts to ooze up Convoy's shoulder, and aims another forlorn, loud 'mow!' sound at the retreating door.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy simply sighs and lets Glit whine all he wants; his hand is firm on the cat's back, and that medic isn't going anywhere but the washracks.*  I don't know what you did to work yourself up like this, but you really shouldn't have.  *His voice has a slight hint of amusement under the sternness - it's impossible for him not to try and think of this as at least a little funny.  After all, one of them has to keep their sanity.*  The washrack is just down the hall, and then you can relax for a little while.

Glit:

*Glit concedes defeat to Convoy, still stretched out over his shoulder. One more plaintive 'mow!', this time directly into Convoy's face, and he seems to be done.*

Pepsi Convoy:

Oh, come on.  *Convoy sounds rather good-natured about it all, though, adjusting his hold on the cassette in order to free up a hand for the keypad that's quickly coming up on them.  Inputting the code, Convoy takes them both into the washrack, door sliding shut behind them.  Comfortable enough that Glit won't just run away at this point, he loosens his hold and goes to the shelves, picking out a sanitizing soap right off the bat, along with a sponge, before going to sit beneath the water taps.*  I can either hold you like this or you can pick another position - however you want.

Glit:

*Glit subsides, re-situating himself in Convoy's arms, head tilted up to the water with a little trill and a rub of his head against Convoy's arm. Though he does give the door another longing look before he does.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy gives Glit a mild look - "Yeah, no, that's not happening" - before making sure they're both comfortable enough with the water's temperature and in their positions.  Once that's been all figured out, Convoy takes the soap and the sponge and starts working gently on Glit's back.  He doesn't even know if he wants to know what happened here.*

Glit:

*Glit starts purring instantly, though it takes him a few moments to succumb entirely and /sprawl./*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy smiles a bit and makes himself available as possibly the largest cat sofa available, scrubbing away dirt and energon slowly - purposefully taking his time, it seems.*

Glit:

*Glit goes more and more limp the more Convoy scrubs, though he does make one feeble attempt to ooze off of his lap. It doesn't last long, though.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy just shakes his head, pulling Glit back into his lap once that little bit of resistance is over, humming a random little tune as he washes the medic down.*  Relax, Glit.  I promise you'll feel better once you do so.

Glit:

*Glit mumbles something, optics dimming, and finishes going totally limp. About half a minute later, he's in recharge.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy doesn't cease humming to himself, making sure to get in behind Glit's ears and as close to joints as possible, very aware of how easily dust can accumulate.  He does frown to himself, a little, eyeing the medic carefully.  It worries him, a bit, to see Glit like this - but at least he's helping.  Hopefully.*

Glit:

*Glit doesn't so much as flick an ear or stir out of recharge as Convoy works. This /must/ be an improvement over yowling his spark out in front of the medbay doors.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*It better be, or else Convoy will have a fit about it.  Possibly ask other medics for their opinions.  He wonders if Glit was made to leave the medbay because he was working himself too hard, or if he had done something in this state to warrant it.  For some reason, it's hard to imagine Glit messing up - even when nearly to the point of passing out.*

Glit:

*Glit is out for some time. Eventually, though, his paws begin to twitch fitfully and his optics flicker back to life.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy continues - well, more accurately, he starts finishing up - even as Glit comes online, though he does stop humming for the moment.*  Are you feeling slightly better, now?

Glit:

*Glit stretches out on Convoy's lap, and makes a clicking noise to himself, speculatively.* ...much. Thank you. I haven't actually done that before...

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy frowns, a little concerned.*  What just happened, precisely?

Glit:

I ran out of usable RAM and had to shut down a lot of subsidiary functions. I hope I didn't worry you... *Apparently 'the ability to speak' is subsidiary. Who knew?*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy blinks a bit, then smiles.*  You did worry me, a little.  I just assumed you had worked yourself too hard, and so the other medics wanted you to rest.  What were you working so hard on - or, should I ask, who?

Glit:

Lord Megatron. It - it was... *Glit trails off, ears flattening to the sides.* Close.

Pepsi Convoy:

...Ah.  *Convoy finishes cleaning off the soap, reaching up without shifting his lap at all and shutting off the water flow.*  He had a good medic watching over him.  He'll be fine.

Glit:

*Glit cycles his vents in a heavy sigh.* He had... someone with skill. I was an atrocious /medic./

Pepsi Convoy:

*The semi leans back against the wall, rubbing his hand along Glit's neck.*  Because you didn't stop?  I'm sure no one will blame you for that, if he was in as bad a condition as I assume he was.

Glit:

Huh? Oh, no, /that/ was fine. I just didn't have the processing power to direct other people and operate at the same time. *Glit shrugs, casual about /that/ much.*

Pepsi Convoy:

Then why do you say you were an atrocious medic?

Glit:

...it's complicated. I betrayed a trust. *puts his head down on his paws*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy continues petting Glit, looking at him thoughtfully.*  ...Do you want to talk about it?

Glit:

...I should never have answered the comm I got. *Glit looks back up at Convoy, but doesn't lift his head or his ears.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy's hand pauses, and he looks at Glit in concern.*  Megatron's, or someone else's?

Glit:

Nemesis's.

Pepsi Convoy:

...Hm.  *Convoy takes a minute to look up just who that is, and then sighs - a rather neutral sort of sound, really.*  I can't say I quite understand why you'd do that, but...  I do understand that you did.  And you had a reason to do so.  *That's only slightly leading.*

Glit:

They needed me. The both of them. *Glit is very calm about admitting double treason.* Which isn't... that isn't the problematic thing. I had to go to Nemesis's hideout to do it, and /that/ is the problem. Was.

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy... has very strange sense of morality, and double treason really doesn't strike him as all that big a deal.*  Was a problem?  Still is?  I'm afraid my thought processes don't follow as easily as others' might.

Glit:

*Glit snorts.* I don't think anybody on the base would understand my thought processes on /this./ They're not standard. ...Nemesis - trusted, or thought he could threaten me into - keeping the location of his hideout a secret. He /showed/ me where it was. I betrayed that trust.

Pepsi Convoy:

...Ah!  *Convoy blinks as the pieces click in his processors.*  I see.  Glit, you couldn't be expected to...  Nemesis must have understood that in the end, you wouldn't really be able to keep it secret.

Glit:

I don't see why not. *Glit's tail lashes.* I never went /out/ to the enemy before. It was always... they were /there/ and they needed me. I didn't know anything about them /to/ betray.

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy doles out another helping of pets, frowning a bit.*  This situation is rather...  New, then.  But...  You have alliances, Glit.  Ones that have more history than I could even imagine, and you can't expect that to not affect your decisions.

Glit:

I suppose. I was... a good Decepticon, but a bad medic. *Glit manages a cat-smile.* Normally it's the other way around.

Pepsi Convoy:

...I must admit, I don't know very much about the differences between Decepticons and Autobots, but...  I would suspect you picked a rather difficult profession for any side.  Do you think that this would... have been different, if you were an Autobot?

Glit:

Only in degree, I think. It's academic, anyway. I wouldn't want to change any of what I am.

Pepsi Convoy:

Then don't.  *Simply*  You've done what you felt is right.  There's nothing wrong with that.

Glit:

That, and I can't undo it. *But Glit is apparently soothed, rubbing the top of his head against the nearest bit of Convoy.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy chuckles and continues rubbing Glit's back, tilting his head a bit.*  At least you understand that.  I hope you don't intend to linger on what could have been, my friend.  It tends to get a little messy.

Glit:

Truer words never said. /Thank/ you, Convoy. *Glit lifts his head and looks up at the semi.*

Pepsi Convoy:

There's no need to thank me, Glit.  *Convoy smiles and rubs the top of Glit's head.*  I haven't done anything of particular importance.

Glit:

Except listen to things I haven't been able to talk about for weeks. *Glit leans against Convoy's side and rubs against it affectionately.* Don't underestimate the value of that.

Pepsi Convoy:

I'm always available to listen, really.  It isn't as though I do much else in my spare time.  *Convoy chuckles, still relaxing against the wall.*  Well, that and give overworked medics baths.

Glit:

Which they appreciate greatly!

Pepsi Convoy:

I'm glad for that, then.  *Only slightly dryly*  I suppose you'll be wanting the medbay sooner than later, though.

Glit:

I should see if they'll let me back in now that I'm verbal. They better; lord Megatron is not in a good way. *But Convoy gets another rub first.*

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy nods - he understands well enough.*  Would you like me to accompany you, or do you think you won't make a mad rush and run yourself down again without me?  *Since by "accompany" he most definitely means "carry so you don't have to work for just a little longer."*

Glit:

I can keep myself out of trouble. *No, that's /exactly/ what Convoy asked about. Astonishing, that.*

Pepsi Convoy:

I don't doubt you can.  *Still, allow Convoy to worry a little for you, Glit - he's going to do it anyway.*

Glit:

*Glit gives Convoy one last, long rub from head to tail, and finally oozes off of the mech's lap.* I'll comm you with a status update when I get a chance.

Pepsi Convoy:

*Convoy stays seated until the medic isn't going to get crushed underfoot before rising to his feet, looking down at Glit as he sends a command for the door to hold open.*  Please do - I don't want to have to wander back to the medbay just to find you locked out again.  *And he can even attempt dry humor once in a while.  Magical!*

Glit:

I think I can manage that. *So can Glit! Amazing. But he cat-smiles at Convoy before setting off at a brisk trot.* Take care!

Pepsi Convoy:

You too.  Please don't run yourself down again - think of what the others will say.  *Still dry.  GO, kitty, and fulfill your destiny!*

Glit:

*Kitty goes! Destiny awaits!*