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Ratchet despised Rodimus’ pit stops. He was notoriously lazy when it came to scanning for any dangers the planet they stopped at may have, which usually led to extra work for Ratchet and less time relaxing.
So far this planet seemed to only harbor fauna and organic animals, which wasn’t a bad thing. This meant that Whirl at least was less likely to get in a fight and nearly cause another galaxy wide war.
While most of the crew was bummed by the lack of excitement, their stop wasn’t entirely useless. Apparently, Perceptor and Brainstorm had discovered fauna that could have helpful medical properties for Cybertronians while researching the planet, and now they were out in groups looking for said plant.
Now, Ratchet loved anything that would make his job easier, but he was less than thrilled that he had to trudge through a thick jungle planet in order to find it. At least he had Drift and his swords for company. Ratchet walked behind the other mech as Drift chopped down vines and leaves that would be stuck in their seams.
Ratchet wasn’t blind to the fact that his relationship with the ex-Decepticon had changed since their mission on Delphi. He often stayed awake at night thinking about a nearly offline Drift risking his life to save Ratchet and giving him a second chance at being a medic. He still couldn’t figure out why though. True they had made attempts to mend their relationship since Drift had switched sides, but it wasn’t exactly easy to do in the middle of a war. Drift had missions with the Wreckers, and Ratchet had a never ending stream of patients. Now that the war was over, however, they had nothing but time, but neither seemed to know what to do with it. At least Drift had taken the jump (literally) in saving Ratchet. Meanwhile, Ratchet had done nothing but challenge the mech on his spiritual views and snap at him.
It all made him feel a tad bit guilty, but he had no idea how to change it. Sure their paths had crossed, but they were two completely different mechs with different beliefs. Could they really make whatever was building between them work? And what did Ratchet want out of it anyways?
There was a sudden shift in the brush, causing Ratchet and Drift to freeze. Ratchet saw Drift’s finials fan out, searching for the source of the sound. Ratchet had always been curious about those finials. Were they as sensitive as his hands? What would happen if he reached out and touched them right now…
Suddenly, a creature crawled out from behind some leaves, causing Drift to shift in front of Ratchet and point his sword towards the organic. The organic stared back at them, paralyzed in fear or curiosity they weren’t sure. The creature had several legs, an even number on each side, and a round body. There were several eyes staring right at them. Ratchet was pretty sure he counted seven. The thing was covered in fur and had fanged teeth. It stood at nearly half their size. Ratchet could have sworn he saw something similar during his time on Earth, only it was much smaller.
“What the frag is that?” Drift asked quietly, so as to not startle the creature.
“I’m not sure,” Ratchet responded just as quietly. He meant it when he said he didn’t want to do any extra work today. “Perhaps Brainstorm and Perceptor might know.”
“It’s disgusting.”
Ratchet couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, which caused the creature to startle. Drift took a step back for glaring at Ratchet. Ratchet chuckled. “I’m sorry, it’s just the idea of you, the most feared ex-Decepticon, disgusted by a tiny organic is funny.”
“It’s not tiny!” Drift hissed back. “It’s nearly half our size!”
“Still, from what I can see, you have the upper hand with your swords and all.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t do some damage.”
Ratchet was about to reply when the creature suddenly started to crawl towards them. Drift yelped, dropping his swords before wrapping his arms around Ratchet’s neck and jumping. Thinking on his pedes, Ratchet caught him with ease, only letting out a slight puff of air.
Drift trembled slightly in Ratchet’s arms as the organic came closer to them. It stopped at Ratchet’s pedes. Ratchet wasn’t sure if the creature had a sense of smell, but if it did, he assumed it would be sniffing him right now. Ratchet stood perfectly still, letting the organic go about its business, before finally giving up and skittering away.
Ratchet waited for Drift to be asked to let down, but the mech didn’t seem to want to. Instead, he looked towards where the organic had skittered off to, still shaking slightly.
“Drift?”
“Yes?” Drift replied, turning to look at him with wide optics.
Ratchet was about to make a teasing remark at the mech’s reaction, but for the first time, Ratchet thought he saw a bit of fear in Drift’s optics. So instead, he asked, “Are you alright?”
“Yes.” Drift’s voice shook as he replied, negating the words that came out of his mouth. “That thing was freaky, huh?”
“Indeed,” Ratchet said, reassuringly. He didn’t have much of a problem with it, to be honest. He’d seen plenty of strange things in his lifetime, and many of them scared him a hell of a lot more than that organic. It just seemed curious. But he didn’t want to make Drift feel like he was crazy for being scared of the hairy thing. Drift had stared death in the optics several times and didn’t so much as flinch, something many mechs couldn’t do. If this was what Drift was afraid of, Ratchet wouldn’t tease him for it.
“I mean, why did it have so many eyes? What’s the point? And it’s fur? Disgusting!”
“Drift.”
“Yes, Ratchet?”
“Would you like to be put down now?”
Drift paused, seemingly now just realizing that Ratchet was still holding him in his arms. He was silent for a moment, thinking, before he bit his bottom derma and said, “Not particularly.”
Ratchet sighed, but he couldn’t help but chuckle. Drift smiled timidly in return. Ratchet bent down in front of them, never letting Drift go, so the other mech could pick up his swords. He did so, placing them back into the scabbards on his hips carefully so as to not accidentally stab Ratchet.
They walked back towards the Lost Light, Drift cradled in Ratchet’s arms. Ratchet hoped that his fellow crew members found enough of the fauna because they were for sure done searching for it. He listened as Drift continued to rant about the disgusting organic they had run into. Ratchet nodded along to what he was saying, rubbing one of his finials in comfort. Drift’s engine purred and he leaned into the touch as he continued to talk.
Ratchet couldn’t help but smile to himself at the irony of the situation. It seemed that once again, Drift was the first to jump, and Ratchet was there to catch him before he fell. Maybe that was how their relationship worked. Maybe that was where they both stood. If that were the case, Ratchet didn’t mind at all. He’d gladly and readily catch Drift every time.