He is, indeed, staying in their old room instead of leaving back for the titan, as he needs to be close to the medibay. He is doing this mostly so Optimus doesn't worry too much, and also for his own comfort. Megatron hates it and it makes him feel burdensome and weak, but he keeps that to himself.
He's sitting upright, awake, when Velocity visits and presses his face into his knees a little pathetically. This is also not helping how he feels about himself, but Primus he feels rough.
"Hurts."
Is all he says for a minute, then looks up, his one working optic unfocused and bright.
Velocity nodded sympathetically at him as she came by to set the basket on the table next to the berth. "I thought they might be," she said with a little sigh. "I think your medication levels or timetable need to be adjusted, it should be administered before it starts to hurt. I'll talk to Optimus and your care team to figure that out for the future, okay?"
She started to fuss with a syringe and his medication, but glanced over in between steps with a more genuine smile. "I was!" She chirped. "I've been here at least once a day when I can, since you got back. You're my friend, and I love you and worry about you. And making sure you don't feel like a sentient ball of acid-stripped circuitry is how I can be a friend back!"
She finished loading the syringe and perched beside him on the bed, reaching for his arm. "Medical port!" She said cheerfully. "You know the drill! In goes the medicine, out goes the pain!"
"Doesn't matter if it does. If I didn't want it to hurt I shouldn't have let myself get crushed," He grouses, but does not stop her doing her thing. Megatron holds out a big forearm with the appropriate port access readily available. For all his flaws and general I can walk it off attitude towards medical treatment, when he's receiving it he's generally agreeable. Habit carried over from Shockwave being his main medic for a long time; the less trouble you give him the better.
He blinks slow and still unfocused, looking away though not because he doesn't want to see the needle.
"Mrgh. You are also... one of my favourites. Don't tell Slipstream." Megatron clumsily pats at her hands as he says this, with all the depth perception he usually has while impaired for one reason or another.
Velocity froze with the emptied syringe still in his medical port, optics gone wide. She then very carefully pulled it out and capped it and disposed of it in the trash beside his berth before hunching a little.
She let out a breathless little laugh and wiped at one of her optics with the heel of her hand before giving him a warm smile, despite the cleanser still gathering in her optics. Velocity then gently gripped his hand back with a little hiccup. "I'm- I'm really glad you came back," she said unsteadily. "You're... you always make things better, even if you're grumbly about it. And don't worry, I won't tell. Doctor patient confidentiality, right?"
"Why wouldn't I? Ugh, too many things to do around here. I'll keep coming back no matter what. You people would be lost without me."
It's not clear if he's being serious when he says that, as Megatron says it with the same level of severity he says everything else. He leans forward until his forehead bumps off the side of her head, gripping her forearm with a sigh. "If that's what they're calling it these days..."
For a second, it sounds like he's about to indulge in one of the rants about how things were better in his day that he likes to when he's feeling particularly cantankerous and old, but it never comes. His grip on her forearm starts to get tighter and tighter until it hurts, until it threatens to dent and leave a handprint... though if she looks over to see why he's doing it, it seems the pain medication has finally knocked him out. His unconscious response is just to grip onto whoever's near him like he's afraid they'll leave him alone and in pain.
no subject
He's sitting upright, awake, when Velocity visits and presses his face into his knees a little pathetically. This is also not helping how he feels about himself, but Primus he feels rough.
"Hurts."
Is all he says for a minute, then looks up, his one working optic unfocused and bright.
"Didn't you come before?"
no subject
She started to fuss with a syringe and his medication, but glanced over in between steps with a more genuine smile. "I was!" She chirped. "I've been here at least once a day when I can, since you got back. You're my friend, and I love you and worry about you. And making sure you don't feel like a sentient ball of acid-stripped circuitry is how I can be a friend back!"
She finished loading the syringe and perched beside him on the bed, reaching for his arm. "Medical port!" She said cheerfully. "You know the drill! In goes the medicine, out goes the pain!"
no subject
He blinks slow and still unfocused, looking away though not because he doesn't want to see the needle.
"Mrgh. You are also... one of my favourites. Don't tell Slipstream." Megatron clumsily pats at her hands as he says this, with all the depth perception he usually has while impaired for one reason or another.
no subject
She let out a breathless little laugh and wiped at one of her optics with the heel of her hand before giving him a warm smile, despite the cleanser still gathering in her optics. Velocity then gently gripped his hand back with a little hiccup. "I'm- I'm really glad you came back," she said unsteadily. "You're... you always make things better, even if you're grumbly about it. And don't worry, I won't tell. Doctor patient confidentiality, right?"
no subject
It's not clear if he's being serious when he says that, as Megatron says it with the same level of severity he says everything else. He leans forward until his forehead bumps off the side of her head, gripping her forearm with a sigh. "If that's what they're calling it these days..."
For a second, it sounds like he's about to indulge in one of the rants about how things were better in his day that he likes to when he's feeling particularly cantankerous and old, but it never comes. His grip on her forearm starts to get tighter and tighter until it hurts, until it threatens to dent and leave a handprint... though if she looks over to see why he's doing it, it seems the pain medication has finally knocked him out. His unconscious response is just to grip onto whoever's near him like he's afraid they'll leave him alone and in pain.