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It was storming heavily, acid rain pelting the streets while mecha rushed about for cover. Like the thunder that followed after the lighting, a sudden frantic knock was upon Ratchet’s door. There weren’t many who knew where he lived, and even fewer would make the trip during an acid storm.
“I’m coming.” When the door was pulled open, Ratchet was met with Orion. There were acid puddles leading up the stairs from Orion’s dripping frame. He carried a heavy looking box that he held ever so carefully in front of his midsection, keeping it stabilized and shielded against his chassis. Ratchet dragged a servo down his face with a long sigh.
“Orion, it’s been 20 kliks since my shift ended, what are you doing here?”
“Well, I wouldn’t normally be here at this time, but I was walking home from meeting Megatronus at the café for energon and—”
“Orion, I’m exhausted.”
“—and I was walking past a few alleys, and of course it’s getting dark out but I had to stop when I heard this awful sound coming from one of those empty trash crates—”
“Orion.”
“—so I checked it out, and this poor cybercat was looking awful and I didn’t know who else to go to.” The red and blue mech finished his spiel with a small, breathless and sheepish smile.
Ratchet stared back at him blankly. “You stole a cat?”
“No!” his vocalizer squeaked only to soften, “Well, I’m not sure. I think it’s a stray.” Orion looked down at the box, the smile fading into worry. “It’s hurt, Ratchet. Can you please at least look at it?”
The medic looked between the concerned mech to the box he carried, and gave a big sigh. He stepped to the side, opening his door wider. “Get in. You should be visiting a vet clinic, you know.”
“I know, but—” The young mech bit his lower lip, his optics glistening in the dim light of his home. “I worry they will put it down.”
Ratchet’s expression suddenly turned grim as he brought him inside. The box was set on the dining table within the sparsely decorated apartment. Cautious digits carefully pulled the box open as two pairs of optics peered inside to see the damage. The cybercat was awake and aware of them instantly, staring right back at them. Ratchet immediately saw what Orion meant. The wound bled, not in a life-threatening way, but it was enough for Ratchet to give a quick gesture to Orion.
"Fetch a towel and medical kit from the closet. We need to wrap it."
"The injury?" He said hopefully as he hurried across the room for the requested items.
"No, so we don't get bitten or clawed." Ratchet observed the cat carefully, noting its frightened posture. It was a scrawny little thing, with dim optics to show its lack of nutrients. The left hind leg looked horribly dented, energon bubbling up and leaking down the limb. Orion returned quickly with the towel and a folded bag in servo.
Through a series of failures, teamwork and patience, they managed to firmly wrap the cybercat's head and torso in the towel. Orion held it close to his chassis to prevent it from squirming away while Ratchet examined the leg closely. The cat was, of course, hissing loudly to show its displeasure.
"Can you save the leg?" Orion asked softly, squeamishly looking away as the medic injected the protoform with pain blockers.
"I'm going to try." Ratchet grumbled back, going through the medical kit for specific tools. "Watch, you need to pay attention to this, kid." He pointed with his pinky at the dent that went across the lateral side of the leg. "See this? That's blunt force trauma."
"Then why is it bleeding?"
Ratchet hummed as he cauterized the energon lines to see clearly, wiping it clean with a cloth. "Because it was hit hard enough to break the internal structure, which sliced through the main lines."
"Hit…?" Orion echoed, a hollow pit growing in his tanks. "You mean… something hit it?"
"Someone.” Ratchet corrected. “No claw or denta marks; this was done by a person."
"But," The young mech floundered, not wanting to believe it, "Who would do such a thing?"
Ratchet sighed as he carefully welded the lines together, sealing them with a couple patches. The broken strut would be harder to fix. His digits were only so small, reaching inside to attempt to fuse the pieces. "Dunno kid.”
It was the only answer he could give Orion. It didn’t matter when healing his patients. Only that he saved them and fixed them up. His optics glanced at the sorrowful look on his friend's face. “But we'll do our best here. I can't replace the leg; cybercat parts are rarer than flight frames around here."
"Will it be able to walk, though?"
"If the lines hold up." He pulled out the dents best he could, then wrapped the leg in half a dozen larger metal patches to keep it from breaking apart. Ratchet finally turned to the cat's head, raising a brow at the consistent stream of staticky hissing. He was surprised it managed to make noises while attempting to bite through the towel at Orion’s hands.
"It just won't shut up, will it." he grumbled at the obscene noise. It was the complete opposite of the welcoming sound of the rain.
"She's scared, Ratchet." Orion protested, holding the cybercat closer to his chassis. The medic was wiping his servos, giving him an odd look.
"She? Animals don't have frame types, Orion. It's just a cybercat."
"I know, but I think she's a she." He said confidently with a warm smile while pulling back some of the towel to coo at it. “Aren’t you? You have such pretty optics.” The mech was fawning over the still screeching thing as if it were a sparkling. Ratchet couldn’t believe it.
Orion suddenly broke out in a grin. “We should name her!” He crowed, gently setting the cat down. She quickly wriggled out of the towel and darted under the couch surprisingly fast, despite dragging her leg behind her.
“No. I’m not keeping it.” Ratchet groaned into the palm of his servo.
“Would you rather call her ‘cat’ forever?” The young librarian pouted.
“It won’t be forever.” Ratchet gave him a sideways glare, getting up to fetch a couple cubes of energon. He didn’t get a chance to eat before his friend came knocking. “You’re going to find it a home. Someone else’s home, far away from here.”
“Yes, fine. But for now, we should call her something proper. Any ideas?” Orion sipped his cube politely, completely sidestepping the rehousing subject. His optics were on the couch. The cybercat stayed hidden out of sight. “We could name her Miss, or Lady.” He offered, smiling as Ratchet scowled back.
“She’s anything but a lady. All that blasted hissing and biting. I’m going to be hearing static for days.”
“Static would be a cute name,” Orion supplied, ignoring the rest of the sentence. “I think it’s fitting. What do you think? Static?” The cybercat’s yellow optics peeked out from the darkness, squinting before turning her head away.
“Yes, it’s perfect.” He beamed as Ratchet let his helm fall into his arms over the table. Why Primus, what did he do to deserve this? He wished he had engex in his cupboards.
"Say, Ratchet?" Ratchet gave a grunt to tell Orion he heard him, helm still buried in his arms. He could hear the cat digging its claws into his couch from here. It made his audios itch.
Orion was quiet and gentle with his next request, like he was aware how badly Ratchet would take it. "Do you think you could watch her? Just for a bit, until I could find her a home."
His pump stalled in his chest, sputtering as he shot upright with a sound of indignation. His left optic twitched.
"I will not!" He nearly shouted, scowling as his servo went to grasp his cube. He tried to keep himself from flipping the table by gulping down energon instead. A part of him wanted to strangle his friend. "I don't have time for a pet, Orion. I don't have time for that pet. Did you already forget that she tried to eat your digits?"
"Please Ratchet, my apartment won't allow pets and the vet center would put her down!" Orion pulled on the begging face, his baby blue optics doing their best to convince him. "Where else are we supposed to keep her?"
"They wouldn't put her down, just put her in a shelter." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep vent. The moment he stole a glance at that pleading face, he was defeated. Orion had tears filling up his optics, threatening to spill over his cheeks. Fraggit, he was getting too clever with that skill.
Ratchet heaved a great sigh and sagged in his chair. He felt like he needed to nap for a century. "Look, fine. But you are going to feed it. And find a home for that thing as soon as possible, are we clear?"
Orion looked extremely pleased, beaming and nodding. "Couldn't be clearer! As soon as possible, got it. I'll be back tomorrow with supplies,” he said, clearing his empty cube away and getting to his peds. He waved in the direction of the couch as he headed for the door, a bounce in his step.
“Goodnight, Ratchet!" He paused as he opened the door, looking over his shoulder with a grateful smile. “Thank you."
Ratchet scoffed and waved his servo to shoo him off, still upset. “Git! Before the storm or my mood worsens.”
He grumbled when the door closed, leaving him with a situation he never dreamed he'd be in. He cleared off the table and stopped before the couch, a grimace on his face.
"Now, what am I supposed to do with you?" Ratchet stood there, servos on his hips and staring down at the Cybercat that peeked at him from under his couch. She seemed comfortable, no longer hissing angrily at him. She was no doubt getting drowsy from the pain blockers. At least he hoped so. Ratchet just wanted to recharge tonight.
"Don't expect a five star hotel from me." The cybercat meowed back, sounding irritated at him. The medic scoffed and downed the rest of his energon cube before laying out the towel they previously used to wrap the feline. He placed a bowl of coolant in the middle and deemed it enough. It would have to do for now.
He gave the stray one last look before retreating to his bedroom. He prayed to whatever god who listened that she would be gone tomorrow.
~~~~
It had been a very long day at the clinic, leaving Ratchet drained and dead tired. He had forgotten about the cybercat until the moment the door to his apartment clicked open. His jaw fell to the floor. “What in the pits!?”
The dining room chair was knocked over, and the box the cybercat was brought in had been completely shredded. An energon cube was shoved off the counter and spilled all over the floor. His couch had claw marks raking the sides of it, and there was a strong smelling burn patch in the middle of the living room. He could smell the acidic cybercat urine from here.
But none of that compared to what he saw next. His favorite chair, the one he'd come home and fall asleep in, was ripped apart. A giant hole laid in the center of the seat with stuffing scattered about its edges and the perimeter of the chair. A familiar head suddenly poked out, audios pointed up and yellow optics blinked sharply.
“You!” Ratchet growled through clenched denta, barely able to contain his anger. The cybercat’s audios drew back and her optics darkened, hissing obnoxiously loud static at the medic. This was war.
~~~~
Orion stood at his friend's doorway, with a large box of cybercat provisions in his arms, and a look of worried confusion on his face. Ratchet looked downright murderous.
“What happened? Is Static ok?” He stepped in and sat the box on the table before walking over to the closet, where Static’s angry wailing could be heard. Her claws loudly raked against the door and occasionally one swiped at Orion's peds from the crack below. A low haunting meow followed as she howled profanities at being contained.
Ratchet was quietly walking to the disposal bin and dumping some burned stuffing inside. He hadn’t answered Orion and was trying his best to contain his rage. With a series of forced, heavy vents, he turned with his servos pressed together before his face and looked at Orion. “It has to go.”
“What? But I haven't found a home yet! It's been one cycle!"
“Look what that slagging thing did to my apartment!” he gestured, voice rising. “The menace won’t shut up, she's ruined my chair and my carpet, my servos are covered in dents, and she's—!"
“Scared,” Orion interrupted firmly, suddenly using bravery that he normally didn't have. "She was scared. Wouldn’t you be scared if you were left all alone during the day? Hurt and not knowing if whoever hurt you would come back to finish the job?”
Ratchet went quiet. It was incredibly rare that this side of Orion surfaced. His fierce, charismatic nature was enough to sway any mech with only his words and a fancy speech. It was something he never used, but Ratchet respected it.
He watched as Orion opened the door, and the cybercat launched out from the dark closet. Her gimpy legs propelled her body forward like an airborne jet, and she was gone under the couch, crooked tail out of sight.
Ratchet looked back to Orion and sighed. He hated how right he was. “Fine, but," He wagged a digit at him, scowling, "I'm adding all the damages to your tab. You've got one week. That's it.”
Orion's face brightened into its typical warmth and he smiled widely, “I knew you’d come through. You always do, Ratch."
Ratchet crossed his arms over his chassis and rolled his optics but his gaze fell back on the couch. Even as Orion paused to accept a comm call, his words struck to Ratchet's core. It reminded him why he fought so vehemently for equal medical care. All life deserves the kindness and care he showed to his patients. He wasn’t a vet, but he was still a medic. Why should this be any different?
“I have to go. Megatronus and I are headed to the local history center, I just wanted to drop off the supplies.” He said, and went to crouch at the end of the couch to say goodbye to Static.
“Try to be good for Ratchet, okay? He’s lonely and needs a friend who understands him." He whispered, smiling as a little paw tried to swipe at his ped again.
And with a wave and a cheeky glint in his optics, he was gone as quickly as he came. Ratchet was once again left to deal with the problem. He could hear her scratching at the underside of the couch again.
Just ignore her, he argued with himself, and went to browse the contents of the box that was dropped off. Inside was a soft cat bed, some colorful toys, cybercat grade energon, and even a wide, round basin with a bag of acid soaking pellets to prevent any more carpet accidents. But a scowl appeared on his face at the object Orion had hidden at the bottom of the box.
Ratchet picked up the blue collar, grinding his denta at it. Attached was a bronze tag, reading Static.
He bit his glossa with annoyance at Orion, knowing he was just delaying their deal further. Ratchet sat the collar down and began laying the bed and toys out in his living room for the menace who watched from afar, growling loudly when he neared.
“Quiet, you. I’m still angry.” He returned the growl, and she hissed back at him for daring to attempt to scold her. It was going to be a very, very long week.