One Day At a Time ✔️

Ch. 39 A Problematic Situation

Crosshairs’ P.O.V.
Everything is fine for two hours before I watch Drift having a nightmare. 
Crosshairs: I need you to get Jamie out of there quickly.
Sunstreaker: frag, we’re coming.
The terror twins are here within seconds. They say nothing as Sunstreaker puts the oxygen concentrator in the bag, puts the bag on his shoulder, and carries Jamie out of the room. Sideswipe says he’ll get the feeding equipment from Ratchet and leaves the room. If Drift dreams that Jamie died, he will panic about not seeing her, but if Jamie wakes up and sees him having a nightmare.
Crosshairs: I have a situation that is going to get worse. I hate to use drugs.
Ratchet: wait for us to wake him up.

Sunstreaker’s P.O.V.
“Does he know what will happen the second Drift wakes up?” Sideswipe asks as I lay Jamie on my bed.
“I suspect he does, but making sure Jamie doesn’t wake up and see Drift panicking was his priority. Just hope Drift will not be difficult to calm down or Jamie if she wakes up before either of them come here.” 
“I hate there’s not much we can do, and after this morning, I don’t know if Jamie will let anybot take her and let her guardians relax. Why the — oh damn, never mind.”
I know what Sideswipe is thinking. Jamie has been sick most of the time since she’s been out of the coma. Even if this last time was thanks to Megatron, I see why Drift worries, but to have nightmares, damn.

We both worry about who’s knocking on the door. Jolt walks in, explaining how there’s concern Jamie will panic.
“... after this morning, I don’t think she’ll stay calm when she wakes up. As for Drift,” Jolt sighs, “it’s an intense nightmare, and he’s panicking. Crosshairs couldn’t stay strong. I should be there, but Ratchet is worried about Jamie panicking even if she’s on oxygen.”
“Damn, I hate how much this affects Drift — both of them. Crosshairs tries to hide how he’s really feeling,” Sunstreaker sighs.
“It’s strange you’re not,” Sideswipe smiles.
Jolt couldn’t stay long before checking on the situation.

Jolt’s P.O.V.
I stopped by Crosshairs and Drift’s room to get the feeding equipment and wheelchair. I know Ratchet tried not to use drugs, but he had to on both mechs, hoping an hour will be enough. 
“There’s nothing else I can do,” Ratchet regrets, “they show us how they’re feeling, and I don’t think talking about it will help them. They know how easy Jamie can get sick, and she could be sick three days from now, unfortunately.”

I feed Jamie before she wakes up. We hope she will not be difficult when she wakes up, and I would like to know what’s going through her mind. Not sure if Crosshairs and Drift watch to see if Jamie has nightmares at night or not. 

Sunstreaker’s P.O.V.
I hate watching Jamie look around for her mechs, and we can’t tell her the truth this time.
I hate watching tears roll down her face.
Scrap, she thinks we’re now taking care of her from now on. Sideswipe observes.
I’d like to take her for a few days, but I don’t think she’ll understand it’s because we care about her.
I hate how she leans on me and cries, even if it’s only tears rolling down her face without the speaking valve on the trach. 
“There’s no way she’s staying here,” Sideswipe comments, “at least not without crying and probably not sleeping.”
We struggle to get Jamie to do anything for an hour before trying a walk. 
“I’ll carry her,” I tell the other two.
The way she’s holding on to me, I doubt she’ll let me put her in the wheelchair. 
Interestingly, she’s holding on to you. Sideswipe comments.
I don’t like this, Sideswipe. She thinks they left her and think we will soon.
Frag, probably back to the asylum. We need to tell Ratchet.

We walk down the hall towards the elevator, seeing Crosshairs and Drift heading towards the elevator. I feel bad we stopped to check if Ratchet wants Jamie’s guardians to have a break. I do my best to distract Jamie while waiting for an answer, wondering if she’d fight me to get free if she was strong enough. 

Drift’s P.O.V.
I need to get to Jamie. How long before she thinks Crosshairs, I left her, and she becomes difficult? No way I’ll be able to get to her with Ratchet watching us. Though to my surprise, he didn’t enter the elevator with us.
“Jolt is with them,” Crosshairs reminds me.
“How’s it better knowing he’ll be using the relaxant?!”
I know Jolt will try not to use drugs, but I don’t think Jamie will be ok after her behavior the other day. I’m so tired of watching her go through this scrap.

The terror twins bring Jamie back to our room at seven. Jamie is asleep in the wheelchair but without drugs. She cried a little, but it wasn’t difficult for the three mechs.
“She wouldn’t let us put the speaking valve on,” Sunstreaker informs us before he and Sideswipe leave.
“I’m not sure if that’s an issue or not,” Jolt admits. I hold Jamie while sitting on the bed, “you two are neglecting yourselves and need to take care of yourselves before it affects you to the point you have no choice but to let some other bot take care of her for a while.”
With that, Jolt leaves the room. 
“He’s right,” Crosshairs sighs, “as much as we don’t want it to, this will last months, and she needs us.”

Even if it’s a little more work, Crosshairs and I have Jamie laying on us as we watch T.V. Everything is fine for two hours before we feel Jamie twitching, and I see tears roll down her face.
Crosshairs helps me sit Jamie up so I can hug her.
“Jamie, you’re ok,” I assure her, rubbing her back.
We both worry she’s dreaming about being in the asylum, and our comforting touch will not help her. My hug could scare her.
“You’re ok,” Crosshairs says after a few minutes of silence. I see Jamie wake up and scared, “do you want to go for a walk?”
Jamie hugs me though it’s not as tight as her hugs used to be.
“Forget it; it will be a challenge to get her back to sleep.”
Crosshairs helps me move the oxygen concentrator to my bed before sitting on his bed. 

It’s a challenging two hours before Jamie gives in and is back to sleep. We know the problem, and it will not be easy to fix while making sure Crosshairs and I aren’t neglecting ourselves.