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In the end if I'm with you I'll take the chance.
"Right Here Waiting," - Richard Marx
They stood waiting at the given coordinates. Optimus watching the sky, Bumblebee speaking in low tones with Sam, Ironhide keeping an eye out for any trespassers, human or Decepticon.
And Ratchet... Ratchet played back the transmission, listening to the static and then the broken-up words in the all too familiar voice that he'd half expected not to hear again in his life cycle.
And when four spots of light separated themselves from the sky, his scanners focused on one and he transformed and found himself rushing from the others before they could overcome their startlement enough to shout his name.
He reached a burning copse of trees and saw the familiar figure standing, head cocked, examining the flora and fauna all around him.
Ratchet opened his mouth, found his throat components unwilling to cooperate, but realized there was no need when Wheeljack turned toward him, optics blazing bright, and, murmuring sentimental nonsense, cupped Ratchet's face in his hands.