Unforeseen

Chapter 17

I don't own Transformers, only my OC's

Chapter 17

 you're sore the next day. I'd like to sock the one who created the statement. My entire body ached and I certainly could not say I had a good workout. In fact I would not even claim I had tried to.

"OW," I screamed.

"Still tender," doctor Ratchet frowned, pulling his hand away from a particularly sensitive rib.

I wanted to say something along the lines of 'well duh', but all that came out was a whimper. It was a rather weak sound to boot given how clogged my sinuses were.

"What's the verdict?" Uncle stood at the foot of my bed, worry etched into every feature.

"Same as before – heavy bruising and two cracked ribs. The only change is minor bit of swelling and this fever she seems to have acquired over the last fourteen hours."

Had I really been asleep that long? The last thing I remembered was Ron picking me up shortly after I had kissed him.

My brain stalled. I had kissed Ron!

It had only lasted a brief moment but it had been horrifyingly exciting. I hadn't meant to do it but… It had been my first kiss. His lips had been so warm and firm against mine.

"How can we help her?" Uncle asked. I blushed at having had the memory around these two.

"There isn't much you can do," Ratchet picked up a ball of bandaging from the side table. "Melry, can you sit up?"

I gave him a rather dubious look.

"Should have expected as much," he said before carefully placing a hand under me. I hissed sharply and squeezed my eyes shut as he drew me upright. Part of me knew he was being as gentle as possible, but I wished he just let me lay still. I was in enough pain as it were.

I had to admit however, I did appreciate the company, even if it brought some discomfort. I did not want to be left alone any time soon, not after everything that had happened.

The mattress compressed as someone sat behind me. Their arms circled around my chest, just under my bust, to keep me up. Their grip was firm, but gentle enough not to disturb my injuries.

"Could you lift her shirt? I need to bandage her up," Ratchet spoke to them. I couldn't even protest before my shirt bunched up just under my breasts.

Someone breathed in sharply. "My god," it was my uncle. It sounded as if he were still at the end of my bed. But if that were the case… I opened my eyes and looked down. The fully covered arms were no indicator, but I did get a look at myself.

I gasped. My body looked like it had been through the war. Hideously deep shades of purple covered my midsection in sickly large splotches. Had I not known better I would have sworn I caught the plague. How in the name of all that was holy did I only have two broken ribs?

"It could be worse," Ratchet said, bringing my attention upon him.

He wasn't joking. Given what had happened I was damn lucky to be alive.

"I've been tampering with a medical balm for hu – the military. It seems to have reacted well to your injuries."

My eyes widened. He used me as a guinea pig? When I'm freaking injured?

"Don't be angry," he smiled softly as if having read my mind, "I wouldn't have even considered using it had I been uncertain of a negative effect. I knew it would either work or simply give you a citric aroma. As it were," he began unraveling the bandages he held, "it seems to have helped."