Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After the bell rang, signalling the beginning of the weekend, three kids waited outside of their highschool for their escorts.

Jack Darby leaned against a pole out front of the main school building, watching as his friends chatted. Miko was crouched down to talk to Rafael, the latter sitting on the floor, tapping away on his laptop. Miko was asking (practically begging) to play games on it, saying that Raf’s computer games were far more rad than whatever she had on her phone. Usually, Jack would interject, telling Miko to give the poor boy some space, but his mind was elsewhere that day.

Usually, the group’s autobot friends would be out the front, waiting to collect them and drive them to the base, where they tended to spend their afternoons. But that day, there was nobody there- no deep blue motorcycle, or flashy sports car, or large off-road vehicle to be seen. Of course, sometimes the bots could be late, but usually, the kids were informed beforehand. The fact they hadn’t shown was irking him more than usual, especially given-

“Yo, Jack, what’s on your mind? You’re being all quiet.” Abandoning her attempt to play on Raf’s laptop, Miko turned her attention to her taller friend, tilting her head at him. “Ooo, lemme guess, you’re excited for the sleepover, right?”

The sleepover. It had taken a lot of convincing, especially given how much Ratchet liked to work without ‘glorified scraplets running around his pedes’, but the bots had finally allowed the kids to spend a weekend at the base, staying for the night too. Jack was excited- more so than he would like to admit. But the lingering worry was overriding any anticipation he had.

“I guess. But they’re usually here by now. I’m just wondering where they’ve gotten to.” Jack shrugged. 

“Jack’s right-” Raf began, finally closing his laptop and standing up to join the conversation. “-They’re usually waiting for us before school even finishes, and if they’re not, we usually get some form of communication.”

“Awh, c’mon, I’m sure they’re just getting everything extra ready for us! I bet Bulk’s setting up our extra big speakers so we can jam out all weekend!” Miko reasoned.

“I hope so. I hope it’s not-”

Before Raf could finish, the rumble of a familiar four-wheel drive caught their ears. Bulkhead pulled into the parking lot, parking nearby, flashing his headlights quickly in greeting. Miko punched the air, grabbing her backpack.

“Later, losers! See you at the base!” She cheered, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat. 

There was silence for a while, with Bulkhead not driving off. Raf adjusted his glasses and Jack squinted, both confused. The confusion only grew when Miko opened the door again, waving the two over.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked.

“Bulk says the others are busy at base, and you’re riding with us. You guys are in the back, though.” She shrugs.

The boys looked at each other with confusion. “What’s going on? Why are you guys late? Where’s-” Jack began.

“Just hop in, I’ll explain on the way.” Bulkhead finally spoke up, his deep voice tinged with something- certainly not a positive emotion, but none of the children could identify exactly what it was.

Sensing something was up, they climbed into the back, and as soon as they were buckled in, Bulkhead took off down the roads towards the base. Miko, obviously rather disgruntled at having to share her ride, was the one who spoke up first. 

“Man, what’s the issue? Are you guys planning a surprise party?” She asked, resting her chin on the edge of the window as she watched the desert scenery go by.

“...Not exactly. There’s been… an incident. But we weighed up the situation, and decided that cancelling the sleepover would cause too much suspicion with your host parents and Raf’s family.” Bulkhead said. “Things should settle out, but-”

“Whoah, hold on, what kind of incident?” Jack pried, raising an eyebrow.

Bulkhead sighed sadly. “It’s Ratchet. He’s been hurt.”

Miko scoffed. “Pah! So doc-bot’s put a hip out. That’s just what happens to old people-”

“He was attacked. By Megatron.”

Miko went pale, feeling incredibly terrible about her attempted joke. From his seat, Jack could practically feel the dread radiating off of Raf, and he didn’t need to look at the younger boy to know his face was frozen in shock. Jack himself couldn’t quite believe it. Ratchet- the bot who rarely left the base- how had he stumbled into the clutches of Megatron ?! Had the leader of the decepticons gone looking for him?

“He’s not in good shape. Got battered by Knockout, too. He’s still unconscious right now, but-”

“He’ll- He’ll live, right?” Raf cut him off urgently, his voice cracking. “Right? ”

Jack wanted to reach out, to put a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. Before he could, Bulkhead spoke once more. “Yes, of course! I didn’t mean to scare you. He should make a full recovery.”

Miko let out a sigh of relief, and Jack relaxed a bit. But Raf still seemed concerned. “Should?” he repeated, not pleased with any uncertainty about the old bot’s condition.

“I mean, he lost a lot of energon. Dangerous amounts. But- yeeow!” Miko delivered a swift kick to the bot’s glovebox, urging him to stop worrying Raf. “But- he’ll be fine! Unless he wakes up and, I don’t know, goes out and fights the ‘cons all on his own again. Which we won’t let him do.”

It was Miko’s turn to be shocked. “Again?? ” She asked. “Ratchet’s been picking fights with ‘cons?”

Something seemed to click in Raf’s head. “...It was the synthetic energon, wasn't it? It muddled his processor and he did something stupid, didn’t he?”

“What what energon? You mean that formula Bulk was spouting off?” Miko began.

“It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what it would do.” Bulkhead said sadly. “He wasn’t himself. He-”

“Hold on.” Jack spoke up, silencing everyone. “What is going on? What’s Ratchet done? I feel like I’m losing it.”

“Synthetic energon. Ratchet tested it on himself, to see if the formula worked. I was only there to see the start of it.” Raf explained. “He was acting- cocky. He picked me up and called me ‘little fella’, if that gives you an indication of how off he was behaving.

“But Bulkhead’s right- it’s not his fault. He just wanted to help, he feels- I don’t know, I think he feels he doesn’t do enough. But after that, I went home, and I- didn’t see any more. Bulkhead, what happened next?”

“Here, we’re arriving now. Arcee can probably help me explain it a lot better. But don’t worry, it’s all out of his system now.” Bulkhead managed not to add an ‘I hope’ at the end, avoiding another kick from Miko. 

The kids were anxious to get out of the car as soon as they drove into the base- it was strange, not seeing Ratchet pouring over the computer in the corner by the groundbridge as he usually did. The base felt emptier without him, though Arcee and Bumblebee were standing there, waiting. They all took note that Optimus was nowhere to be seen either, but that was more common- the Prime tended to be out on patrols a lot more often.

As soon as all his passengers had gotten out, Bulkhead transformed, scooping Miko up in a servo and sitting her on his shoulder. Raf ran over to Bumblebee, quickly being lifted up by the yellow bot and also being placed on his shoulder. The two of them muttered to each other, both seeming very upset with the situation, sad whirrs emitting from Bee’s voicebox as he talked to his friend.

Arcee walked over to Jack, standing by him and crossing her arms. “I gather Bulkhead’s told you what’s happened.” She observed.

“Not everything. I mean, I still can’t fully wrap my processor around it either. But maybe having both of us to explain will help.” Bulkhead replied.

“Okay, okay, start from the beginning, explain everything.” Jack said as he climbed up to one of the catwalks, sitting so he was looking down at the bots.

“You got it. 

“So, you all know Ratchet was working on the formula Bulkhead had given him. He’d found it worked well enough on human technology, but we were running so low on energon, he decided to use it on himself.” Arcee began. “While we were out fighting, I got overpowered- until I saw this blur of red and white, and there’s Ratchet, slaughtering vehicons left and right. I never knew he could fight like that . We bridge back- Raf was still there for that- and it becomes clear Ratchet’s… not himself.”

Bulkhead and Arcee shared a glance, optics filled with what the kids could only really describe as second-hand embarrassment. 

“It was tolerable at first. I found myself enjoying how much more energy Ratch had. Until he started getting violent.” Bulkhead picked up for Arcee. “He threw me through a wall. Called Bee a wimp.” 

From his spot conversing with Raf, Bumblebee gave another sad whirr in confirmation.

“After that, things kept getting worse. That synthetic energon- I’ve seen earth videos about addictions, and we have similar things on Cybertron- I think that was what was happening to Ratchet. He was sick.” The topic seemed to be upsetting Bulkhead. It was clear to the children how much the bots cared for their medic, even if they seemed tired of his cranky behaviour on the surface.

Arcee put her servo on Bulkhead’s free shoulder to reassure him. “It got really bad, really fast. That stuff was rotting his processor. That’s why we’ve tried to keep you guys out of the base over the past few days. It all came to a head when we went out to look for energon. He was really coming undone by then, and he…” She paused, as if deciding what to say next, but something dark flickered through her expression. “He ran off. Wanted to go find Megatron. And I suppose he did.”

Bumblebee shrunk away, as if dreading the next part. 

“We found out where he was, eventually. Megatron practically punched a hole through his chassis. That sickly green energon was everywhere. I see spilled energon regularly, but that stuff… it was different. It makes my plating feel itchy and wrong if I think too much about it. But he destroyed any of the stuff the decepticons could’ve gotten their claws on. So we think he’s come to his senses.”

“Primus, I hope so. No matter what, even when he wakes up, we’re not letting him touch that stuff.” Bulkhead said firmly. 

There was silence for a minute, nothing but the background machinery sounds of the base-and the bots themselves- filling the air. What had happened to Ratchet certainly sounded grim. 

It was Miko who spoke up first. “Wow. I didn’t know you guys could get addicted.” She said, but she wasn’t trying to crack a joke. It was a genuine query.

“Oh, you’d be surprised. It seems to happen in every species, actually, we just all have different terms for it.” Bulkhead said. “But that stuff was bad . Almost as bad as Megatron’s addiction to dark energon.”

“So impure energon is like… cybertronian heroin?”

“Guess so.” He shrugged. “So… Yeah, maybe don’t play around in the medbay this visit. I don’t think he’ll be waking up any time soon, but you never know.”

Finally, Raf said something. “Can we go see him?” He asked.

The three bots thought for a moment, unsure whether or not it would be a good idea.

“I get why Raf wants to.” Jack admitted. “I feel like there’s some part of me that thinks he’s dead, and that part of me won’t shut up until I see him.”

Raf nodded. “You said it better than me.”

Arcee nodded. “I understand. I’ll go check with Optimus, then. He’s watching over Ratchet at the moment.” With that, she turned, heading towards the medbay.

The remaining team members sat in silence. Nobody knew what to say. The last time Ratchet had been injured was when the scraplet infestation had taken over the base- but even with gaping, metallic wounds, he was still the first up, the first to give instructions and help his team, and the last to get repaired. Not having the familiar mumbles and grumbles that usually emitted from his voicebox blending in with the background noise made the base seem empty, and they all felt his absence.

Hell, Ratchet didn’t like the kids on a good day (spare Raf, as he tended not to be an annoyance), but they couldn’t help but worry about him. Though their dislike for each other had been mutual to begin with, the kids couldn’t help but be charmed by his cranky nature, and every now and then when he’d let a compliment or genuine affection slip through the angry mask, they only grew fonder of him. If Arcee, Bulk and Bee were their guardians, then Ratchet was almost their grand-guardian- Miko had taken to calling him grandpa, though mainly as a joke.

“Alright, you can come see him. But I’ll warn you, it’s not pretty.” They all turned towards Arcee when she spoke. Jack nodded, hopping off the catwalk and onto Bulkhead’s spare shoulder so he could get a good view as they followed Arcee into the medbay.

She was right. It wasn’t pretty at all.

Ratchet lay motionless on the medical berth, various drips hooked up to him. To the average human, he looked very dead. Not breathing, or moving in the slightest, simply laid out like a corpse at a funeral viewing. The kids, of course, knew that cybertronians didn’t breathe. They had fans in the back of their ‘throats’ (there was a proper term for it, but none of them could remember it) for cooling, which could simulate a sigh or a breath perfectly- but there was no reason for such systems to be running if Ratchet was unconscious, unless he was overheating.

He was plenty scratched up, too. There were several gashes running along his frame, a particularly bad one on his optical ridge, all of which matched up with the wounds Knockout’s buzzsaw was known to inflict. 

Of course, that wasn’t even mentioning the biggest wound.

Half of the medic’s chassis was caved in . The metal surrounding it was crumpled and cracked like it was no weaker than aluminum foil, and in parts his inner wiring- which the children had come to know were almost like his organs- was visible, bundles of them glinting in the ceiling lights. That wound was where most of the drips seemed to connect to, feeding fresh energon into his body and any other medicine he might need. Despite the team’s only medic being unable to oversee treatment (funnily enough), the rest of the bots seemed to have done a good job in patching him up… Though his wound was still coated in sickly green energon, oozing down from his side and pooling on the berth below him, though most of it seemed to be old and dried.

Tearing their eyes off the injured medic, the kids finally noticed the Prime standing over him. They’d never seen Optimus look so upset. His optical ridges were creased with worry, and the optics below them were dim and concerned. He looked more tired than usual, his stern expression replaced with an anxious frown. He leaned on the berth, his servos and a lot of the rest of his frame also coated in the off-color energon, presumably from trying to stop Ratchet from bleeding out. He looked up briefly at the children and bots as they entered, giving them a small nod in greeting- all he could muster, before he turned back to Ratchet’s limp frame, unwilling to look away for too long.

Raf curled closer to Bee, the yellow bot resting his helm against his body in an effort to be reassuring- or perhaps in need of reassurance himself. Miko gripped Bulkhead’s shoulderpads a little tighter, and Jack looked to Arcee, the smaller bot nodding solemnly at him.

“His chestplate.” Raf spoke up, voice slightly shaky. “You haven’t cleaned the wound.” it was something Ratchet had taught him- although energon was not as much of a biohazard as human blood, it could be incredibly painful to clean off if it dried and caked to something.

“Ratchet has lost a lot of energon.” Optimus spoke, his calm voice sounding gloomier than usual. “If a piece of his shattered chassis were to break off and nick a fuel line as we cleaned, he could lose what little remains flowing through him. Do not worry, Rafael, as soon as he is more stable, we will clean him up. I do not like seeing him in such a state either.”

“All that… it was just done with Megatron’s fist?” Jack was still shocked at the size of the wound. He’d seen the bots fight before, but none of them had ever managed to cause so much damage with one punch.

“That would be a fatal hit if left untreated, even I know that.” Bulkhead spoke. “He wanted Ratchet to wither away slowly and painfully.”

Bumblebee, Optimus and Raf all winced at the thought, Optimus gripping the berth table so tightly it was a surprise his digits didn’t dent the metal.

“I apologize you have to see Ratchet in such a state, but I can assure you he will make a full recovery- though it may take a while.”

“You’re gonna have to ban him from pulling all nighters.” Miko said, trying to lighten the mood. 

She managed to get a sad smile out of the Prime. “He will not be pleased about that.”

Nobody spoke for a while, until Arcee piped up again. “...I’m gonna go start processing all the energon from that mine we found. You guys coming to help?”

The bots and children all nodded, spare Optimus, and Ratchet… for obvious reasons. As they walked away, Raf turned back around to wave goodbye to the medic’s unmoving frame.

After they left the medbay, and put some distance between themselves and the Prime and Medic, Jack cleared his throat.

“...So. How bad is it really? ” he pried.

“Dude, I’ve never seen Optimus so distraught.” Miko added. If it weren’t for how upset Raf and Bee already looked, she would’ve asked when the funeral was.

“Like Optimus said, he’ll make a full recovery.” Bulkhead repeated. “It’s just- Optimus cares for Ratchet. Like, really cares for him. Primus, he’s worried sick. Arcee, we might need to convince him to take a break from his berthside vigil eventually.”

Jack saw an odd sparkle in Miko’s eye as he talked about the two’s relationship, but before he could look closer, Arcee spoke.

“Optimus is better than me. If someone talked to me like that, I couldn’t care less if they went offline.” She said, getting a stare from both the other bots. “What? I’m joking!” She hastily added.

“Talked like… What?” Miko pried.

Bulkhead sighed. “I thought we agreed to leave that part out!” He scolded, but noticed the immensely puzzled look the kids were giving him. “Ratchet said some… choice things about Optimuses leadership.” He admitted.

“And about Cliffjumper. ” Arcee added, venom in her tone.

Bumblebee beeped in protest, and Bulkhead nodded. “Arcee, he was out of his processor. He didn’t know what he was saying!”

“Well, he had to mean some of it. What he said about Optimus not killing Megatron when he had the chance… I had to agree. But then he just had to go and talk about Cliff…” She clenched a servo. “If it weren’t for the gaping hole already in his chassis, I’d give him another one.”

“Wait until he’s awake. Then we can talk to him more, hopefully he’s sobered up by then.”

Miko and Jack wanted to pry further, but Raf caught their eye, giving them the ‘Bee told me everything already, I’ll catch you guys up later’ look.

Eventually, they arrived in the area the kids usually hung out in. The three were placed on the catwalk next to the couch and tv. “Alright, you three watch some cartoons or something while we sort this energon out. After that, we can hang out properly.” Bulkhead instructed.

The children nodded, turning on the television as their guardians wandered off. But even with the tv catching their attention, their minds were still stuck on how empty the base felt without Ratchet in the background, keeping it in working order. They never realized how much they missed the sound of grumbles and the tapping of digits against datapads until it wasn’t there anymore.

Chapter Text

The base always got cold at night. During the day, the draftiness was welcome, given the fact they lived in a desert and everything. But when the sun dropped below the horizon, so did the temperature. 

The kids were able to ignore it, for the most part. Warm air rose, so the catwalk where they had their couch and TV tended to stay at a somewhat pleasant temperature- and to stave the rest of the cold off, they had elected to play some Wii sports. Miko was destroying the competition, to the point where Jack and Raf were simply competing for second place. Their guardians had stayed to chat for a while, everyone wanting to get their minds off the lack of Ratchet in the background. They had headed off to recharge relatively early, exhausted emotionally and physically from the day’s events. Usually, the kids would be upset, but they knew there would be plenty of fun to be had the next day when everyone was well rested.

At Miko’s insistence, they switched to wii sports resort to play the sword fighting game, her favourite. Jack and Raf were thoroughly out of breath by that point, and were happy to sit back and watch her slice through mii after mii.

“Man, remember when I got too enthusiastic and the remote went flying into Ratchet’s helmet?” She laughed, stopping between levels to gulp down water. “It left a dent! He was sooo mad!”

Raf giggled at the memory. “I tried to fix it with a plunger. It worked, but then he had a plunger stuck to his helm for the rest of the day.”

Jack couldn’t suppress a smile, either. He remembered how the medic had simply continued about the day as normal with his new decoration. “I wonder if he’ll ever take up our offer to play with us. Miko, weren’t you and Bulkhead working on a giant wiimote?”

“We were! We showed the drafts to Wheeljack before he left, he said he’d help us when he came back next! Ratchet says it’s stupid and he won’t help with it, though.” She rolled her eyes. 

“I mean, he’s kinda right.” Raf admitted. “But just because it’s stupid doesn’t mean it’s not cool.”

“Eeeexactly! You get it! Ugh, maybe we can convince him someday.”

“...I do really miss him, though. I hope he gets better soon.”

“Me too.” Jack sighed, resting his chin on his knees. “Optimus is worried sick . I’ve never seen him in such a state. It’s even crazier, knowing the last things Ratchet said to him.”

Bumblebee had caught Raf up on the whole confrontation, since the other two seemed reluctant to talk about it, so Raf had told the others. They had differing opinions, but all agreed that Ratchet had made a few valid points, he just could’ve worded them a lot better. “He wasn’t well, Jack. Optimus knows that. I just hope everyone can make up when he’s awake.”

“Yeah, otherwise we might have a divorce on our hands.” Miko said nonchalantly. 

Both the boys turned to stare at her. She shrugged. “Dude, it’s obvious! Have you seen the way they look at each other?”

“Miko…” Jack sputtered. “Miko, no. Just no.” Was all he managed, taking a sip of water.

“Pshh, what’s the matter, Jack? Ya homophobic?”

Jack spat his water on the floor in shock at the accusation. “Miko, they’re robots! Aliens! Robot aliens! They probably don’t even know what romance is! Optimus and Ratchet are just good friends.”

“Come on. Have you not seen Knockout and Breakdown? They’re obviously a thing.”

“I’m not paying attention to what they’re up to because they’re usually trying to kill us! Besides, that’s Knockout. He’s different.”

“Different because he’s gay?”

“ Miko- ” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“What do you think, Raf? They’re totally in love, right?” Miko turned to her shorter friend, an expectant look on her face.

“Raf, tell Miko she’s being stupid.” Jack groaned.

“Well, I think-” Raf began.

“Stupid? You’re the one who refuses to see the obvious!” Miko spoke over him, pointing an accusatory finger at Jack.

“Optimus calls him ‘old friend’! FRIEND! Not ‘old husband’!” Jack fired back. “Sure, they’re close, but not like that! ”

“Oh yeah? Wanna bet?”

He paused. His mother had always warned him against gambling, and betting did fall under that umbrella. But at the same time, man, Miko was getting on his nerves . “Fine. whoever’s wrong has to give the other 20 bucks.” He crossed his arms.

“You’re on! Hope you’re ready to part with that 20!” Miko held out a hand for Jack to shake, which he took. 

“We’ll see about that.” He smirked.

After the handshake split off, another noise caught the kids’ ears. Heavy, repetitive ‘clanks’ growing closer and closer. The kids knew the sound well, and were able to identify their source before it even entered the room.

Sure enough, in walked Optimus Prime, heading over to the kids and looking down at them. He gave a soft smile, but his faceplate was still twisted with worry, and dark rings hung under his optics, a deep blue-grey. He was no longer caked in Ratchet’s lime green energon, either, having washed it all off.

“Good evening, children. How are you?” His voice sounded quieter and more exhausted than usual.

The kids were lost. Optimus rarely greeted them directly like that, so they were somewhat lost on what to say.

It was Raf who finally spoke. “We’re okay, Optimus. Thanks again for letting us stay the night.” He smiled. “How’s Ratchet doing?”

“Ratchet’s condition is unchanged. Arcee insisted I take a break from monitoring him to rest.” Optimus replied. 

Jack knew that meant he wouldn’t be able to hang out with her as much the next day, but he also knew the team leader needed adequate rest more than anyone- and that Arcee’s smaller frame meant she could recharge a lot quicker, and even her quick couple-hour nap would give her enough energy to watch ratchet through the night. “So, you’re on your way to bed- er- berth?” He asked. Learning the mechanical lingo cybertronians used certainly took time.

“Unfortunately, I find myself unable to recharge. Ratchet told me you humans can experience something similar when you are troubled.” The kids nodded in confirmation. 

“...I was wondering if you would mind if I watched you three… ‘game’. Maybe that will help me slip into the right mindset to recharge.”

The kids tried to hide how gobsmacked they were. The leader of the autobots… a giant alien who was several million years old at least… wanted to watch them play wii sports resort .

“You wanna join in?” Miko felt keen on pushing her luck. “I’m sure if you hold me, and I hold the controller, it would work!”

“You don’t have a safety strap.” Raf pointed out. “If his grip loosened, you’d go… splat into the nearest wall.”

Her grin faltered slightly. “Good point. Sorry, Optimus, but at least you get to watch a master at work!” She spun back around, wielding her wiimote like a weapon as she cut through legions of miis.

The Prime lowered himself to the floor, metal joints squeaking more than usual with fatigue. He rearranged himself to be sitting criss-cross applesauce, which was incredibly amusing. 

Optimuses sitting position was soon forgotten as they all turned their attention to Miko, listening as the music ramped up the further she progressed to the end of each level. It was quite a spectacle- were Wheeljack there, he surely would’ve been impressed with her swordsmanship. It was so intense, the trio entirely forgot Optimus was sitting behind them, watching with intrigue. He had always had a fascination with anything earth-related, they had noticed, though he often didn’t have time to pursue those interests, given he tended to be busy fighting a war. Every now and then, though, when the kids would bring him something simple, like a teddy bear or a can opener, they would notice a sparkle in his aged, sad optics. 

Finally, Miko had enough, finishing a level and falling back onto the couch, panting. Raf handed her her water bottle, which she gulped down greedily. 

“Damn, I think that’s it for me.” She wheezed. “I think my arm’s about to fall off.”

“Did you beat the game?” Jack asked, less familiar with video games than the other two. 

“No way! I still have to get to the volcano and beat Matt!” She poured the last of the water onto her face to cool down.

“This ‘Matt’ I hear you speak of,” Optimus startled the kids, who had all forgotten he was there, “Who is he? You say he is a ‘boss’, is he an evil warlord of sorts? What has he done to strike such fear into your hearts?” There seemed to be a hint of genuine concern on his faceplate.

“Oh- pff, I wish. No, he’s just some dude who’s really good at sports. You have to beat him to win the game.” Miko clarified.

“He’s powered by a machine, he’s not a real human.” Raf added. “I suppose that makes him kind of like you, but he can’t think for himself.”

“I see.” Optimus nodded. “I wonder how his combat skills would compare to mine.”

“You’d wipe the floor with him.” Jack said matter-of-factly. “Even if he was your size. He trains for sport, not life or death. He doesn’t have field experience.”

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with Matt too, when I fight him! He’ll be nothing but a stain on the volcano rock by the time I’m done.” Miko’s face twisted into an evil grin, which made Jack furrow his brows.

“Cut that out. You look crazier than Ratchet when he took over our science projects.” He spoke without thinking, forgetting the state the medic was in, and that it might’ve been a sore spot for Optimus.

To everyone’s surprise, he gave a small, barely audible chuckle . A tiny bit of white smoke wafted from the smokestacks on his back as he did so. “I must say, I never did hear the end of that story. Ratchet was much too busy mumbling and grumbling to tell me exactly what he did . I do suppose it would be better to hear the story from the victims themselves, however. I do know Ratchet can be… Controlling.”

“Psh, understatement of the CENTURY!” Miko rolled her eyes. “Sorry, just because he’s hurt doesn’t mean I’m forgiving him for ruining my project. Actually, my project was already pretty ruined, but he ruined Raf and Jack's too. You wanna hear all the juicy deets?”

“I understand your disappointment. Just because Ratchet is injured does not spare him from criticism.” He still spoke wisely, despite sitting on the base floor like a schoolchild. “Yes, I would quite like to, if you would be willing to share.”

“Oh BOY would I! Okay, so it all started when Raf showed him his volcano, which Ratchet guffawed at…”

The conversation continued, with Jack and Raf adding in, recounting details when Miko needed to catch her breath. It was probably the most they had smiled and laughed in the entire day, recalling how Ratchet had gotten so focused when building Jack’s ‘motorcycle’ that he had accidentally welded his servo to the creation. Jack had laughed extra hard at that, revealing he had a chunk of the medic’s digit that had come off as he separated himself from the project on his shelf at home to remind him of the event. Raf added on how funny it had been when Agent Fowler had needed to come to the school to confiscate the failed projects, and how the fact they had made secret service visit-worthy creations had actually left them with a pretty good grade. Optimus had spoken up again at that, mentioning how Fowler had later given Ratchet the telling-off of a lifetime- severe enough it actually had the stubborn old bot apologizing .

“He never apologized to us, though. Rude.” Miko crossed her arms.

“If there is one thing I know, it is that Ratchet never deviates far from his ways, no matter what.” Optimus replied. “The fact he gave even one apology is incredible.”

“Do… Do you think he’ll apologize to you? ” It was an inappropriate question and Jack knew it, but it hadn’t stopped gnawing at his mind. Ratchet had upset his team greatly, synth en or not, and if nobody spoke about their feelings, then tensions around the base would be unbearable.

Optimus was silent for a minute, the small smile he did have disappearing off his faceplate. Jack was about to apologize when he spoke. “Ratchet has nothing to apologize for.” His voice was barely a whisper, but still more than loud enough for the children to hear. “He voiced important concerns. Things nobody else was willing to say. I just wish he didn’t have to be inebriated to finally confess. He was very, very upset. Those problems had obviously been weighing on him for a while.”

“You’re allowed to be upset too, Optimus. And angry. Just like him.” Despite being the smallest on the team by far, Raf wanted nothing more than to wrap Optimus in a giant hug and reassure him. Like Ratchet, the Prime reminded him of an old, tired grandfather- he often wished he could end the war for them, just so they could rest.

“I know. I am just unsure what to do next. But that is not for you children to be concerned about.” Optimus must have been thoroughly exhausted to be so openly discussing his emotions. Millions of years of guiding troops and being a reassuring leader unravelled surprisingly quickly with lack of recharge, it seemed.

The kids had never expected such earnesty, and Miko decided now was better than ever to test her theory. “...You care about Ratchet a lot, don’t you?”

“I do. More than you could ever know.” Optimus placed a servo over his chassis, where his spark lay thrumming behind layers of armor and wiring. “He is my oldest friend. My closest friend. If anything were to happen to him, I…”

He froze, sighing softly-or perhaps stifling a yawn- before standing up. “I believe I am finally ready to recharge.” He leaned down, so his helm was level with the kids, before blinking slowly, exactly like an affectionate cat. “I must thank you endlessly for helping ease my worries. Goodnight, children.”

And with that, he was off, his pedesteps echoing through the base until they grew too far away to hear, leaving the children in silence. It seemed he finally realized he was saying far too much.

Without speaking, they all decided it was about time for bed, too, going about brushing their teeth and clambering onto the old mattresses laid out for them without saying a word. They had stayed up far too late, so excited to be chatting with Optimus, that they were all absolutely exhausted as well. They could talk more about everything they’d been told the next day.

Yet as they turned out the lights, rolling around and getting comfortable, Miko’s voice cut through the silence.

“Psst. Jack.” She whispered. “About that bet.”

“What, you want to call it off? Because you knew you were wrong?” he whispered back, careful not to wake Raf, who was already snoring softly.

“Nah. I’m right. That’s why I want to up it to $50.”

Jack scoffed quietly. “50$ it is. It’ll all be going into my wallet at the end of the day, either way. Now go to sleep.”

“Night, Jack.”

“Night, Miko.”

Chapter Text

As predicted, Ratchet remained unconscious for the rest of the kid’s weekend at the base. Optimus never stopped to talk with them again, rarely leaving his post by Ratchet’s berthside. In fact, he barely said anything, only sharing a few words with his teammates when they inquired about his or Ratchet’s condition.

With all the energon from Ratchet’s discovery processed, the kid’s guardians were free to hang out for the rest of the weekend. After what was certainly a rocky start to the sleepover, they finally found time to have fun, though every now and then their minds would drift back to the motionless body of their medic laying on that berth, and the stoic, quiet Prime stood beside him. The kids hadn’t told their bots about the conversation they had with Optimus that night- it had been very personal, and sharing it just… Didn’t feel right.

It was Tuesday when they finally got good news. They hadn’t spent Monday afternoon at the base, as they wanted to get a head start on homework (apart from Miko, but it tended to be better not to ask what she was up to). But that afternoon, all three vehicles were there to collect their respective kids.

As Jack and Arcee sped through the desert, her voice filled his ears through the commlink in his helmet. “Thought you’d be pleased to know, Ratchet woke up this morning.” She said, a trace more happiness in her tone than usual.

Jack couldn’t suppress a relieved smile, though it was hidden by his helmet. “That’s great! How is he?”

“Better. Well, by better, I mean the synthetic slag’s cleared his system, and he’s lucid- but there’s still a large hole in his side. With his help, we finally managed to scrub most of the nasty green stuff off, too, but that alone took… a lot of energy for him. He recharged for most of the day, but he’s awake again now, last I checked.”

“Well, I didn’t expect him to be driving laps around the base.” Jack reasoned. “Mom tells me rest is really important in the early stages of recovery- I presume it’s the same for you guys, too. Do you think he’ll be happy to see us?” He joked.

“You’d be surprised. Most of the time he’s been awake he’s been asking after you three. Tries to act like he doesn’t care, but I think he’d be quite happy to see you for a bit.”

“After us? ” Jack was shocked.

“Don’t tell him I told you, but I do think he secretly loves having you guys around. Something to keep his mind off this war, even for just a while. I feel bad for the poor mech- so many nights spent repairing our technology, repairing us , and keeping everything in working order, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company… Frag, I’d shoot up drugs too.”

Jack snorted, but he supposed she was right. Ratchet was just shooting drugs, he simply hadn’t expected such a phrase to be uttered by a giant metal alien.

He wanted to ask if Ratchet had apologized for his outburst, but before he could, they had arrived at the base, cruising past the area they usually stopped and driving straight to the medbay, Bumblebee and Bulkhead close behind.

And there sat Ratchet.

He still looked ragged- somehow greyer than usual, but he was up, and his optics scanned over his teammates as they transformed. He had been disconnected from the numerous drips previously attached to him, and has a piece of what looked like tent canvas fashioned into a giant band-aid that covered the unsightly puncture in his chassis, though a soft, cyan glow was visible if one looked closely, given just how deep the wound had gone. The kids weren’t sure if they were imagining it, but they swore his optics were slightly… greener than they were before.

They didn’t have time to look too closely, though, as Ratchet sighed that classic sigh. “I just woke up, and you’re already sticking me with babysitter duty?” He groaned.

“They’ll be gone in a minute, Ratch. Don’t lie to yourself- you know you wanted to see ‘em.” Bulkhead reassured.

Before he had a chance to argue, Raf practically sprinted forward, looking up at the medic. “Ratchet! How are you feeling?” He smiled, eyes bright behind his glasses. It was the happiest anyone had seen him look since they first heard about Ratchet’s accident.

“Puh- lease . What do you think?” Ratchet rolled his optics, but it was obvious he was trying to fight back a smile as he extended a servo down for the boy to climb onto.

 Raf noticed he was shakier than usual when lifting him back up, but he still trusted the old bot wholeheartedly as he sat on his shoulder, rubbing his thumb across the scraped orange-red of his armor to remind himself that Ratchet really was alive.

“I can’t believe you went toe-to-toe with Megatron and survived! ” Miko cheered, boxing the air as if re-enacting the fight. “I bet he went crying home to his mommy! I bet you knocked out Knockout and broke down Breakdown too! Doc-bot rocks the ‘Cons!”

“I can assure you it went nothing like that. Knockout usually flees as soon as you scratch his precious paint job, anyway.” Ratchet grumbled while tilting his helm obligingly so Raf could examine him closely- he knew the boy’s small hands and eyes meant he could catch wounds the medic himself might have missed, as his self-diagnosis systems were struggling to catch up after so long offline. “I can assure you I will be staying far away from the battlefield from now on. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Jack was the only one to notice the way Ratchet’s optics flicked to his teammates, as if seeking reassurance, or acceptance. It was so quick that the other two didn’t notice it- and if the bots had, they were ignoring it. “...Hey, where’s Optimus?” He asked. With how stressed the big bot was, it only made sense for him to still want to watch over Ratchet.

Ratchet’s optics dimmed, and Arcee spoke up in his place. “He’s been out on patrol all morning. Making himself scarce, can’t imagine why.”

That was cold, even for her, and while Ratchet didn’t show any response to the comment, it was clear tensions were running high within the team. It was only natural, Jack thought, given everything they’d all just been through. But they were all so close, things would surely return to normal by the end of the day.

…Until it had been nearly a week, and things still showed no signs of improvement. 

The rest of the bots barely spoke to Ratchet, so he barely spoke to them either. The few conversations they did have seemed stilted and, ironically, robotic, as if there was something each party wanted to say but couldn’t quite get out. Shockingly, Optimus himself was the worst offender. The bot who would once talk with his medic like it was second nature, spending ages lost in conversation discussing things the others couldn’t quite wrap their heads (or processors) around, now refused to acknowledge him outside of basic mission requests or commands. To be fair, Ratchet certainly wasn’t acting very kindly towards his Prime, either. He used to address Optimus in that slightly grumpy, but nonetheless loyal tone- but it had been erased completely. Now he only spoke to him in this icy voice, devoid of any emotion. It was a lot worse than how he’d been before. His responses were quicker, too- while he used to go into great detail explaining things to Optimus, Ratchet now barely uttered more than a sentence. Things were tense, to say the least.

In fact, the only bot who acted normally around Ratchet was Bumblebee. The scout acted like nothing had happened, ‘chatting’ away to Ratchet as usual. Ratchet would often brush him off, but that was what he did before the accident, too, and he still had a hint of affection in his voice when he told Bee to let him work in peace.

“They’ve already talked it out,” Raf had told the other two when they were theorizing. “Ratchet’s the closest thing Bee has to… a father, I guess. I’m not sure how cybertronian families work exactly, but I know some of them have moms and or dads, but most of them just come straight from the Allspark. Bee was one of those, but Ratchet and Optimus looked after him since he was very young. So Ratchet was quick to apologize, and Bee was quick to accept.”

“Huh, I never would’ve guessed. I just thought he found it funny to annoy Ratchet.” Jack had shrugged.

“I think Ratchet likes being annoyed, at least by Bee.” Raf smiled.

The other problem around the base was Ratchet’s recovery. From what the children had seen, all of the cybertronians had the ability to bounce back from crazy injuries in a matter of days. One time, Bulkhead’s leg had been shorn clean off in a fight, only for him to be up and running on it again after a few days. 

But Ratchet was taking a while to get better. Most of the smaller scrapes had healed up, spare some missing paint across his optical ridge from Knockout’s sawblade, but he still had pieces of canvas stuck to his chassis- it was shattered into too many pieces to weld together safely. The teal-ish glow had finally disappeared from beneath it, which was promising- it meant he was healing over slowly- but the medic still seemed exhausted by even the simplest of tasks. Just walking from room to room had him leaning on the catwalk for support, clutching at his chassis. He’d been banned from doing anything but repairing his teammates. All the other research and base upkeep he busied himself with was strictly forbidden until he had healed up- which, to the children, was taking a worryingly long time.

“I mean, even Optimus recovered from the cybonic plague in like, four days. So what’s up with doc-bot?” Miko voiced her concerns to Bulkhead when the two were alone. Bulkhead was throwing punches at a bot-sized punching bag, which Miko had helpfully duct-taped a picture of Breakdown’s face to. “Is it just because he’s really old?”

“Nah, he’s a medic, his self-healing systems work overtime so he can focus on healing us.” Bulkhead replied between jabs. “It’s the venom in Megatron’s claws that’s throwing his system for a loop.”

Miko’s jaw dropped. “PAUSE. Venom??? ”

“Oh, yeah. I thought I told you about that. Megatron’s got venom. Nothing deadly, but if he punches deep enough- like what he did to Ratchet- it messes with the self-healing systems and makes everything work way slower, and more energy draining. Ratchet’s putting up a hell of a fight against it, though. Most bots are bedbound ‘til it clears their system.”

“Dude, that’s awesome! But also no fair. Why do the ‘cons get born with all the cool powers? No offense.”

“None taken, because he wasn’t born with it.” Bulkhead explained. “It was a modification. Ironically enough, Ratchet was the one who installed it.”

Miko felt her entire world view shatter around her as her jaw somehow fell even further. “Ratchet was a Decepticon? ” She gasped.

“No, no, no! Primus, he’d rather rip his own spark out and eat it!” Bulkhead hastily corrected, waving his servos to dismiss the idea. “It was a long time ago, before the war. Ratchet worked as a medic in the pits where Megatron was a feared gladiator. He was the only one Megatron trusted to do the modification. I’m not sure how legal it was, but hey, I was never big on gladiator stuff. I spent most of my time building things.” He said with a shrug, leaning back. “Don’t tell Ratchet I told you, though. He’ll-”

There was a loud CRASH as Bulkhead fell to the floor. As it turns out, punching bags didn’t support much weight. He let out a pained yelp, clutching his right arm.

“Bulk! You alright?” Miko ran over, watching her fallen guardian with concern. Bulkhead could be clumsy, but that fall didn’t sound very good- almost like he’d landed on something wrong.

“Fine. Just tripped.” Bulkhead replied, which was obviously a lie. Sparks flickered from his elbow joint as he held it to his chassis.

Miko crossed her arms, not believing a word of it. “Oh yeah? Move your right arm for me, then.” She instructed.

Bulkhead looked away sheepishly, the same way a dog did when it was guilty of something. “...I don’t feel like it.” he mumbled.

Miko rolled her eyes. “Get up. We’re going to go see Ratchet.”

The green bot tried his best to do what the humans called ‘puppy eyes’, but the stern look on Miko’s face remained. He sighed in defeat, pushing himself up with his working arm.

“What’s gotten into you, man?” Miko asked as she sat back on his shoulder. “You’re like, Ratchet’s #1 customer!”

“It’s…” Bulkhead began, before sighing and shaking his head. “It’s nothing. C’mon, let’s go.”

They found Ratchet sitting near the medbay, tightening a loose part on a machine. Technically, he’d been banned from such activities so he didn’t exert himself, but stopping Ratchet from fiddling with things was like stopping water from flowing- impossible. The medic’s audials flicked up when he heard the two approaching, and he turned to face them, tired optics scanning for damage before he even said a word.

“Ah, Bulkhead, Miko. Good afternoon.” He said… which was odd. Usually his greetings were more along the line of ‘what have you slaggers gotten yourselves into this time’. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Uhm… Er…” Bulkhead began, seeming unsure of what to say, though sparks continued to fizzle from his elbow joint.

“He fell on his arm funny.” Miko spoke for him. “You can fix that, right?”

Ratchet nodded. “I’ll have a look,” he said, heaving himself up. It looked like even simply standing took a lot of effort- but what Bulkhead had told her about most bots with wounds from Megatron that deep being bedbound made her look at the injured medic in a whole new light. Over the past week, she’d realized he was a lot stronger than she gave him credit for.

The three of them walked the short distance to the medbay, Miko sitting on a shelf to watch Ratchet work on her guardian. Things still felt off, though. Usually, the air would be full of chatter as Bulkhead regaled Ratchet with stories from when he was a wrecker, and Ratchet would be chastising him for being so clumsy. This time, instead, Bulkhead seemed determined not to meet Ratchet’s optics, looking very intently at the corner of the ceiling. Ratchet, too, was silent, not even muttering his breath as he worked, using all sorts of tools Miko didn’t recognize to repair Bulkhead. Miko kicked her legs grumpily. Why was it so hard for them to talk to each other? Hell, even an argument would be better than the bland nothingness that was taking place.

“So, how was this damage caused?” Ratchet inquired.

“I… tried to lean on my punching bag.” Bulkhead admitted, still gazing at the corner.

Ratchet hummed. “I see.”

“No, no, no!” Miko shouted from her perch, waving her arms in frustration. “That’s not how it goes! What has gotten into you guys?! Ratchet, you’re meant to call him an idiot!

“Listen, I’m sure that whatever happened while Ratchet was high was upsetting, but you guys need to move past it! I’ll rip my ears off if I have to listen to any more awkward small talk. Talk about your feelings! Say something with meaning! Please! ”

The two bots looked to her, and then back to each other. Bulkhead sighed sheepishly. “She’s right. It’s just… on that scouting mission, when you yelled at everyone, it sounded like there was a lifetime of stress behind it. How long have you been suffering, taking care of all of us? How many of my accidents have you patched up while so much stress coursed through your fuel lines? I just… I don’t want to be a burden to ya, Ratch.

“Besides… I was the one who gave you that formula to begin with. I’m the reason everything went to slag, the reason you’re so hurt.” He hid his faceplate in his free servo. “I wish there was some way I could make it all up to you.”

Ratchet was silent for a minute, before he sighed too. “Bulkhead… Miko was right. I should have called you an idiot.” With the second half of the sentence, the expressionless mask finally left his face, replaced with a much more familiar scowl. “There’s none of this that’s your fault! Why would you even begin to think that?!” He asked. Though it sounded like a lecture, it was clearly Ratchet’s way of showing he cared. 

“Primus, I look forward to your visits. No matter what idiotic injury you come in with, you help keep my processor off the stress. You fill it with silly stories from your wrecker days, like when you and Wheeljack walked into a decepticon base in broad daylight with sloppy insignias painted on and somehow didn’t get noticed and blew the place to smithereens!”

Bulkhead tilted his helm to one side. “You remember that?”

“I remember all your stories! Whenever I clear out useless memory files, I sort those ones away because I love hearing them!” Ratchet exclaimed. “Bulkhead, listen to me. None of this is your fault, and… I didn’t mean to make you feel like it was, in any way. I wasn’t myself.”

“Hey.” His right arm now repaired, Bulkhead put a servo on Ratchet’s shoulder pad. “Just having you lecture me is better than any apology. Because that way, I know that you’re still you . Our one and only medic.”

A small, earnest smile graced Ratchet’s faceplate. He nodded a silent thank-you. “Don’t think this means you have an excuse to come and bother me all the time. Try your best not to lean on any more punching bags.”

Bulkhead grinned back a big, goofy grin. “No promises, Ratch. See you around.”

And with that, he stood back up, Miko hopping back onto his shoulder as the two left the room, the familiar muttering and mumbling of their beloved medic filling the air once more.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Miko said once they were out of earshot. “I bet you both feel a lot better now.”

“I certainly do. Man, I never thought I’d miss being lectured like that.” Bulkhead chuckled, flexing his freshly-repaired arm.

“...I just hope he and Optimus make amends soon, too.”

Miko nodded. “It’s weird, seeing them be so short with each other. There’s something calming about hearing Optimus call him ‘old friend’. I miss it. They both seem so sad without each other.”

“They’ve quarreled before, but they’ve never been so cold for so long, at least since I’ve been on the team. When they’re upset, so’s everyone else. They better start apologizing to one another sooner rather than later.”

“Hey, if they haven’t done it soon, I’ll give them both a good talking-to.” Miko promised. It sounded rather threatening, all things considered. “After all, it seems I’m pretty good at it.”

Bulkhead snorted. “Yeah, and then we’ll bridge you onto the Nemesis , and you can get all the Decepticons to talk out their feelings too.” He joked.

“Man, I might have to start charging for my services. Miko Nakadai: Cybertronian therapist.”

“We did have a therapist with the Autobots at some point. Or maybe a psychiatrist. Can’t remember his name for the life of me, though.” He scratched his helm. “Maybe just focus on your current two clients before expanding, eh?” He added. “They care about each other so much, it’s so sad to see them like this.”

“They really do, don’t they?” Miko replied, thinking back to her bet with Jack.

That $50 was so hers.

Chapter Text

“Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead. Are you all ready to mobilize?”

The base had been humming with activity all afternoon. The computer had picked up an energon signal- weak, but there nonetheless. Nobody could say if it was Decepticon activity or had merely been uncovered naturally- but the bots were all itching to get out and investigate.

Ever since they took over the mining operation, Decepticon activity had been near nonexistent. They hoped it was because they were licking their wounds after losing such a big energy source, and weren’t up to something more… sinister. Either way, it had left the bots jumpy, unused to spending so much time without conflict. So when the chance arose, they all leapt at the opportunity.

Well, all but one.

Ratchet sat next to the groundbridge controls on a bot-sized stool he had taken from the medbay, an unreadable expression on his face. He was getting better, slowly- up and about more, but still having to take breaks from time to time to rest- nowhere near ready to be in the field. In fact, this was his first time even manning the groundbridge since the incident.

Optimus turned to his medic, though their optics did not meet. He seemed to be staring through Ratchet instead. “Are you sure you are alright to be in charge of the groundbridge?” He asked, no emotion in his tone.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. Besides, you’ve left me with help .” Ratchet replied icily.

Optimus didn’t even nod in response, simply turning back to his warriors. “Transform and Roll Out.” he commanded as the portal whirred to life.

The three ‘helpers’ stood on the catwalk nearby- at least, there had been three. As the bots disappeared into the groundbridge’s glow, Miko took a chance to slip away while nobody was looking. She was sure the bots wouldn’t mind her help- it was basically just a scouting mission! Besides, even if the ‘Cons did show up, there were four whole Autobots there to protect her! Yet as she approached the portal, a voice rang out from the catwalk.

“Forgetting something, Miko?” Called Jack’s voice.

She whirled around to see the lanky teen holding something up- which she realized, in horror, was one of her beloved plushies that usually stayed attached to her belt.

“Come back here or Chiikawa gets it. ” A surprisingly evil grin graced his face as he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and held it beneath the toy, thumb dangerously close to the spark wheel.

Miko paused, and then loudly groaned, turning away from the groundbridge as the portal closed and stomping back over to the ladder that led to the catwalk. “That one’s not even Chiikawa, idiot. It’s Usagi.” She snapped, rolling her eyes as she snatched the plushie off Jack and clipped it back to her belt.

“I don’t care who it is, as long as it stops you from getting yourself in danger. Again. ”

“Ugh! It’s not even a dangerous mission! Besides, why do you even need me here? To look after Ratchet? He may be old, but he doesn’t need nursing home care yet.” She crossed her arms.

“If something were to happen, and Ratchet couldn’t bridge the others back, they’d be stuck.” Raf spoke up, adjusting his glasses. “We’re just here as a failsafe. Besides, you have homework to do. I was hanging out with one of your teachers and they told me you were like, three months overdue.”

Miko bit her tongue, resisting the urge to call him a teacher’s pet. Even if it was absolutely true, she found it hard to be rude to Raf- he was just a kid, compared to her and Jack (in her eyes, at least- he was actually miles more mature). “Ratchet doesn’t need help. I bet he’s offended that Optimus left us here, too.”

Raf hummed. It was clear there was something on the medic’s mind, but he wasn’t sure that was exactly it. The whole afternoon he’d seemed… Spacey. And Raf had noticed his servos trembling as he’d moved to activate the groundbridge. However, he hadn’t gotten the chance to catch up with the old bot yet, and even if he had, Raf doubted Ratchet would tell him what the problem was. He shook his head, trying his best not to dwell on it. “You still have homework to do. Trigonometry, right? I can help you out with that.”

Miko stuck out her tongue. “Ugh, trigonometry makes me wanna-”

She was cut off as a strange noise echoed through the base, loud enough to make them all flinch. It sounded almost exactly like an engine stalling, a whirring, wheezing mechanical noise that didn’t sound right. It stopped after a few seconds, and Miko cleared her throat to repeat her sentence. “I said, it makes me wanna-”

The noise returned- this time, even more violent, accompanied with the sound of… Liquid splashing? The three children turned to locate the source of the unpleasant sound. 

It was coming from Ratchet.

He was bent almost in half, faceplate hidden, armor plating trembling and frame heaving as if he was struggling to breathe- which couldn’t be the case, given he didn’t have lungs. It was more likely an effort to get more air into his system- something the bots only did when they needed to cool off their frame. In his servos, just below his helm, sat an empty IBC tank with the top crudely cut off, gripped so tightly that the metal cage around the plastic was warping. For some reason, a light blue glow emanated from it.

With a groan, he lifted his helm- revealing a trail of the same light blue dripping down from his intake. He wiped it with a shaky servo, still ‘panting’.

Miko was the first to figure out what had just happened. “Dude, Cybertronians can puke ? That’s so AWESOME!”

“No it’s not, Miko.” Raf stepped past his friend, towards the Medic, who’s optics had finally fixed on the group of them. “They only do that when something’s wrong. Seriously wrong.” He explained. “Ratchet, what’s going on…?”

“Mmmhh… I’m f-” Ratchet’s sentence was cut off as he leaned back over the impromptu bucket, the engine-stalling sound echoing through the room once more.

Jack grimaced, stepping back. “Whatever he’s got… It’s not contagious, is it?”

“He’s purging his tanks.” Raf explained. “Miko’s right, it’s kinda like puking- I suppose it would be more like coughing up the food you ate in its original form. Either way, not contagious. They only do it when something’s wrong. If they’ve ingested impure energon… or if their tanks are malfunctioning.”

Both the kids gave him a ‘how the hell do you know that?’ look as Ratchet finally finished purging for good, cooling fans rattling to life. “Ratchet’s taught me a bit about cybertronian biology, just in case.” Raf continued, before turning back to the sick bot, horrified to notice fresh energon staining the ‘bandage’ over the wound on his chassis, before the medic’s servo clasped over it. “Whatever the reason- it’s a bad sign that he’s doing it, and it’s agitating his injury.”

Raf ran across the catwalk to get a closer look at Ratchet. His optics were dull, frame heaving as he raised his helm to look at the small human. Raf put his hands on his hips. “Ratchet, you’re not well. I’d like to examine you in the medbay.”

The bot wheezed a half-laugh-half-cough. “Puh- lease . I’m completely fine! Must’ve been some quartz crystals mixed in with my energon, or something. Besides, how are you going to examine me? Remember who the medic is here.”

“You’ve taught me how to navigate the medbay. You and I built a mini-scanner that translates cybertronian vitals into english! I can help!”

“That was a science project.” Ratchet scoffed. “I don’t need help. Leave me alone, I have work to do.” He shooed the boy with a servo- a servo that was shaking so badly he could hear each metal joint rattling against each other. Not to mention the droplets of energon that had seeped through the bandage onto it.

Raf scrunched up his nose. Why wouldn’t Ratchet admit something was wrong? Why did he insist on not listening to him? How could he get the giant robot to cooperate?

That question was answered for him when Jack spoke up. “Ratchet, either you go to the medbay, or Miko gives you a one-woman metal concert.” He demanded. Miko, who had snuck over to her giant set of speakers, plugged them into the wall and sent a high pitched feedback noise through the room for a second.

Ratchet froze, intake open slightly in awe at the kid’s audacity. FInally, he huffed, fans rattling unhealthily. “Fine. Since you insist. ” He grumbled. The medic would rather perform surgery on himself than listen to Miko’s music.

With a pained noise, he hauled himself away from the groundbridge controls, unstable on his pedes. He limped towards the medbay, each step followed by a pained hiss he tried to hide. 

Raf turned back to his friends, nodding a thank-you. “You two stay here and man the controls in case the other bots need help.” He instructed. Neither Jack nor Miko saw a reason to argue as Raf followed behind Ratchet to the medbay.

Laying himself on the medical berth, Ratchet let out another groan. His trembling had gotten worse- Raf could hear his armor plating rattling against itself as he lay. Standing on the ‘counter’, Raf Quickly located the miniature scanner he and the old bot had built, flicking it on and positioning it to face the sick medic. Despite being ‘mini’, it was still taller than Raf, and was attached to a set of wheels to help him move it about easier. As it ran diagnostics, Ratchet’s heavy ‘breathing’ only seemed to get worse.

“Rafael. In the cabinet over there-” he wheezed, pointing, “There’s some energon. Get me a cube, and one of the iv lines next to it.”

Raf nodded, scurrying over and opening the cabinet, looping one of the iv tubes- the size of a hose compared to one a regular human might receive- around his arm before using all his strength to heave a singular cube over to Ratchet.

“Medical grade energon,” he explained as he took the cube from his helper, dipping one end of the tube into it until it flowed to the other end, before attaching a small, sharp piece of metal to it, “High enough quality that it can skip the tank and go straight into the fuel lines.” As he explained, he flexed an arm, revealing the sensitive wiring in the crook of his elbow and piercing it with the needle, allowing the fresh energon to flow directly into his fuel lines. “I’ve been using too fraggin’ much of it recently.” He admitted. “Any time I try to ingest it normally…”

“...It comes right back up.” Raf finished the sentence for him, stroking his chin as he looked back to the scanner, which had finished preparing Ratchet’s vitals. “Your core temperature is elevated, too. Like, a worrying amount.” he added, only just noticing the heat radiating off the bot’s frame. “You’re obviously not well, Ratchet… but what could cause purging, a fever, shaking limbs… you guys don’t get viruses randomly like that, right?”

Ratchet was silent for a minute, averting his gaze before answering. 

“Withdrawals.” He spoke quietly, clearly ashamed. “From the synthetic energon.”

Raf blinked. Withdrawals fit the symptoms perfectly, but… “You haven’t touched the stuff in weeks now. Why isn’t the need for it out of your system?”

Ratchet didn’t reply straight away, instead breathing as a wave of pain hit him out of nowhere. All part of the symptoms, unfortunately. “I… can go a while without energon. My frame is only just starting to really want it, and it wants the synthetic slag. 

“The symptoms have been manageable until now. It shouldn’t be too much longer until-” He paused, dentae gritted as another wave of pain shot through his overheating frame. “-Until my tanks reset themselves, and I can go back to normal.”

Raf’s worried expression deepened. He knew how Cybertronians experienced time- ‘shouldn’t be too much longer’ could mean anywhere from minutes to months. “Ratchet… You’re going weeks without refueling?”

“The others need it more.” He breathed. “Me taking so little has saved our afts a few times when supplies are running low.”

Raf figured he could scold the autobot for being self-sacrificial later. Right now, there was something worrying him more. “Your temperature’s still rising.” he muttered. “It’s reaching dangerously high levels. If this is withdrawal, couldn’t we just inject a little bit of the synth en to-”

“ No! ” The desperation in Ratchet’s shaky voice caught Raf off guard. “ Please . I’d rather go offline than risk having that stuff flowing through my systems again. Besides, it could make things even worse.”

“I understand.” Raf replied, trying to fight off the anxiety gnawing a hole in his chest. He was nowhere near equipped to handle such a dire situation, especially as Ratchet’s temperature continued to climb. “Putting you into stasis would force your systems back into normal ranges, wouldn’t it? And then we can just bring you out when you’re over it.”

“Can’t,” He panted. The pain shooting through him was barely letting up at this point, and combined with the unbearable heat of his frame, was nearly enough to make him scream. “The team needs me. I’ve wasted enough time recovering from this slagging hole in my chassis. I can’t waste any more time… or resources.”

“Ratchet…” The boy reached out to try and comfort the medic, but flinched back when his hand touched Ratchet’s scalding hot armour.

“I can wait it out. I have to. I need to be there.” he insisted. Condensation was building up on his plating from the heat, beads of water leaving clear tracks through the dried energon on his lips.

“...Soak those old rags in cold water and put them on me.” he instructed, voice growing weaker and weaker. “It might help bring my temperature down.”

Raf nodded, bundling up the rags that sat in the corner of the medbay and turning on the sink. Like most things in the medbay, it was huge compared to him- yet he was still able to drop the rags into it as the cool water rose, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he plunged them under the water and shook them about to get rid of any dust. He really hoped it would work to lower Ratchet’s temperature- he seemed set on not going into stasis, and Raf knew damn well he couldn’t force a giant mechanical alien to do something it didn’t want to do. He ignored the way his heart pounded in his chest- he didn’t have time to panic. Not when Ratchet was in trouble.

He pulled the soaked rags from the water one at a time, lugging them over to Ratchet. The wet fabric kept him from scalding himself as he spread the rags across Ratchet’s frame one by one, wincing at the hisses they emitted as the heat of Ratchet’s frame immediately began to evaporate the water. 

As he lay the cool rags over the old bot, Raf realized he could hear Ratchet… crying . At least, that’s what he gathered the quick, shaky ‘breaths’ were. Ratchet’s face was already slick with condensation, so Raf couldn’t tell if tears were falling from his optics or not. He didn’t even know if Autobots had tear ducts. It certainly wasn’t something he expected from the usually aloof medic, but Raf knew how awful it was to feel sick- no matter how strong you were.

He was about to ask Ratchet what the problem was, but the medic beat him to it. “You weren’t meant to see me like this,” He whispered, voice cracking, “None of you were. Primus , how could I be so stupid- letting that stuff into my system-”

“It’s not your fault, Ratchet.” he repeated, unsure how to provide comfort.

“You’re all just kids . You’ve already seen so much war… You shouldn’t have to deal with a rusty old disappointment and his addiction on top of it all.” It was almost hard to make out what he was saying with the amount of static spilling from his overheated voicebox.

Raf finished putting the last cooling rag on Ratchet. “...One of my older brothers went through something similar once. An addiction, that is. It was hard for my family, but we got through it. He got through it. And it didn’t change how much I loved him. Not one bit.

“It hasn’t changed how I feel about you, either. You’re the furthest thing from a disappointment, Ratchet. You're our medic. You’re what holds this team together. And I wouldn’t change you for anything.”

Ratchet looked down at the boy, optical ridges creased with distress. “Oh, Rafael…” he said softly, “...You’re all just kids . You’ve already seen so much war…”

“You already said that.” Raf’s eyes widened with horror as he looked to Ratchet’s vitals. His frame’s temperature was so high by then that it was causing his processor to malfunction- he was delirious. Any longer at such a high temperature and he’d start sustaining permanent processor damage, Raf didn’t need millenia of medical training to deduce that. “Ratchet, the rags aren’t cooling you down. We need to put you into stasis.”

Static spilled from the medic’s voicebox as he shook his helm fervently. All the boy could make out was “They need me” repeated over and over.

The mini scanner began to blare loudly, warning of how much danger Ratchet was in as the Autobot curled back in on himself in pain once more. None of this was helping ease the panic now overtaking Raf. What was he going to do? If Ratchet’s processor melted under the heat, it was unlikely he’d ever recover. He couldn’t just give up . But he couldn’t attach the stasis cable to Ratchet without boiling alive, and he knew the medic wouldn’t do it himself. He paced back and forth, the cacophony of alarms and cries of static escaping Ratchet drilling into his ears. What was he going to do? It was situations like this he’d turn to Ratchet for help with, but that was impossible when the medic himself was the source of the problem.

“Raf? What’s going on?” He jumped at Miko’s voice, whirling around to find her and Jack peering round the doorway, worry written on their faces. “Is Ratchet alright?”

It wasn’t often he heard Miko sound so scared. “Go call the others. Tell them they need to come back now .” He ordered.

Sensing the urgency of the situation, the two nodded, running back in the direction of the groundbridge controls as quickly as they could. Raf turned back to his patient.

His patient.

That was it. If he couldn’t get Ratchet’s help with the situation, he needed to think like Ratchet. And Ratchet wasn’t going to sweet talk a patient who wasn’t following orders. He needed to lay out the cold, hard truth.

“Ratchet.” He almost growled, voice firm and loud enough to catch the sick medic’s attention as he grabbed the stasis cable. “Your temperature’s been too high for too long. Any moment now, it could fry your processor, if it hasn’t started to already. You need to go into stasis. That’s an order . I don’t care if it means the team will be without a doctor for a while- a medic in stasis is a lot better than a braindead one. Do you understand me?” Raf was amazed such a lecture had come from his own mouth, but it seemed to do the trick. 

Ratchet nodded, the lights in his optics beginning to flicker. “Good. Now please attach the cable to yourself.” Raf’s voice softened immediately as he scrambled over to the stasis control panel. Barely in control of his own servos, Ratchet still managed to stick the cable to himself. Raf input the same series of commands he’d seen Ratchet do before into the console, and was relieved to hear a whirr sound from the machine, watching as Ratchet lay back on the berth, clearly beginning to drift away. 

Raf ran back over to the mini scanner, eyeing the medic’s vitals. If stasis didn't drop his temperature back into a safe range, he didn’t know what he was going to do. Behind him, he heard the telltale hum of the groundbridge coming online, knowing that meant the other bots wouldn’t be far away.

His ears perked up as he heard Ratchet try his best to mumble something before stasis took full hold of him. “You’ll make a damn good medic one day.” he finally managed to sigh, before his optics shut, and he was out.

Raf barely had time to acknowledge the compliment, eyes fixed on Ratchet’s vitals. He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding when the medic’s temperature finally began to drop, knees buckling beneath him. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest as the readings quickly fell back into a safe range. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply to calm himself as he heard several sets of heavy metal pedes running towards the medbay. They were shouting something, but he was too relieved to pay much mind. All that mattered to him was that Ratchet was going to be okay.

Chapter Text

The base grew quiet once more after that. It gave the kids an uneasy feeling of deja vu, seeing Ratchet laying unmoving on that medical berth again. The few times they had seen the old bot recharge naturally, he was never completely still or silent- his fans would rattle and his engines would rumble softly, almost exactly like a snore. But when he was injured, and now that he was in stasis, he lay unmoving. From what the children understood, stasis was like pressing ‘pause’ on things- freezing a bot where they were until they were awoken again. Still, nothing organic or mechanical should be so frozen, they reckoned.

Raf continued to keep a keen eye on Ratchet’s vitals, just in case. With the help of the remaining bots, he was able to calculate that Ratchet should be over the last of the withdrawals in a bit less than a week- his inner systems needed time to recalculate themselves, much like how scabs took time to fully heal over. 

“It is due to young Rafael’s quick thinking that Ratchet will be waking up at all,” Optimus had said in a strong yet thankful voice, “We have him to thank for our continued safety.”

It took everything in Raf to remain humble. Optimus Prime had just said he’d saved the team! All he could do was smile awkwardly, looking to the corner as his friends, human and cybertronian alike, shouted praise.

His mind wandered back to the comment Ratchet had made, right before he lost consciousness, about his potential as a medic. It had slipped his mind in the chaos that followed- bots running over to him, looking over Ratchet, fear flickering in their optics. It was Bumblebee who had finally scooped him up and made a beep of concern, to which Raf had only managed to mutter the basics of his condition, wracked with panic and relief at the same time. All he could bring himself to do after that was curl into his guardians’ servos, overwhelmed by the amount of noise.

Once everything had calmed down enough, the rest of the team had been mortified. Ratchet had been struggling through withdrawals on top of everything else? And hadn’t told anyone?

“I should’ve kept an eye on his energon intake,” Bulkhead muttered to himself. “I mean, I knew he skipped refuelling every now and then, but going weeks without a drop? Primus, I barely think about it every time I down a cube. How many of mine have actually been meant for him? How long has he been starving?”

“He’s done a good job at keeping it a secret. I think he only told Raf because his processor was on fire.” Arcee reasoned, trying to reassure her larger friend, though she was admittedly distraught about it too.

“That and he trusts Raf like he would a medical assistant,” Bulkhead had replied.

Raf’s mind snapped back to the present. Was Ratchet right? Would he really make a good Medic? He already knew his way around human code- it was his favourite thing. And based on what he had seen, Cybertronian code and biology had quite a large overlap. In his lifetime, which was so short compared to Ratchet’s, could he really become so skilled? Could he find a way to live longer, do more? Or was he simply thinking too much about a comment Ratchet had made while hallucinating and barely conscious?

His calculations were right. It was about a week later, in the middle of a school day when all three received a text:

Ratchet awake now. LOL. Bulkhead.

They couldn’t speak to each other about the news until the afternoon, as they all had separate classes.

“He thinks LOL means ‘Lots of Love’,” Miko had finally explained when they met, waiting for their respective drivers once more, “I haven’t had a chance to correct him.”

“Still. It’s good that he’s ok.” Raf smiled.

“Man, I wonder what he’s gonna say to you.” Jack joined in. “I mean, you’ve gotta get some praise. You saved him big time.”

Raf adjusted the straps of his backpack. “He doesn’t need to say anything. Just knowing he’s alright is enough.”

The other two nodded. “I don’t know what we’d do without him. What I’d do without him,” Miko admitted. “To think I hated his guts when we first met.”

“Hey, to be fair, he hated us, too. Acts like he still does. But the mask’s starting to slip.” Jack smiled.

Their conversation trailed off as they heard the unmistakably guttural rumble of a diesel engine. No, there was no way that was who they thought it was. Yet as they spun around, an unmistakably red and blue truck was there to greet them.

Miko’s eyes went wide. “Suh-WEET! We’re riding in style !”

“We’re almost always riding in style, Miko.” Jack reminded her, but Miko was already long gone, clambering into the cab of the truck.

The other two followed, all squishing in together. The inside of the truck was incredibly clean, the faint waft of Agent Fowler’s cologne being the only way to tell it wasn’t fresh out of the factory.

“Good afternoon.” Optimus spoke as he reversed out of the parking lot. 

“So, what’s the special occasion?” Jack asked, elbowing Miko for space as they both half-sat in the driver’s seat. “Where’s the others?”

“Back at the base, tending to Ratchet. So I volunteered to collect you three.”

The kids looked at each other. While Ratchet was in stasis, Optimus had returned to standing next to him seemingly 24/7, rarely leaving. Was he really going to take the first chance to leave as soon as he awoke? Again?

“I must apologize, he will still need some time to recover. I ask you not to enter the medbay for today.”

That was odd. Ratchet had been ready to chat with them last time he awoke… and he had been in considerably worse shape then, too. 

“I’m surprised you came to get us.” Miko felt like pushing her luck, as usual. “I thought Ratchet would want to see you when he woke. Given you’re, like, besties and all.”

“I believe that is the human term for it. I intend on giving Ratchet the space he needs to recover, is all.”

“Is that it? Or are you scared to-”

“HEYYY, Optimus, what type of earth music do you like?” Jack kicked Miko in the shin to shut her up. He didn’t want the Prime to turn around and drop them at home. “You seem like the type to enjoy older music- this newfanlged pop stuff is so boring.” Miko rolled her eyes, remembering the time she’d caught her friend jamming out to California Girls.

“I have not gotten much of a chance to listen to earth music, I must admit.” Optimus replied, seeming happy with the change in conversation.

“Oh, man, let me put you on.” Jack cracked his knuckles and rooted around in his backpack, producing a CD. “You’re not gonna believe it- this band is called Primus .”

Things were going smoothly by the time they arrived at the base. One thing the kids picked up on was that their guardians seemed to give very vague answers to why they couldn’t see Ratchet, but they didn’t mind. If the medic needed space to recover, for once, they were happy to give it… even if they did miss him. 

Eventually, Optimus took Bumblebee out on patrol. Raf didn’t ask to tag along- he was looking forward to testing out his newest remote control car on the large, flat base floor. The other kids were busy hanging out with their respective bots, which Raf was glad for- he enjoyed their company, but sometimes he just preferred to be left alone. He had attached a small camera with a live feed to his car, and was testing it out, driving it around and watching the video produced on his laptop. He wove between Bulkhead’s pedes without the big bot even noticing. However, as he drove the little vehicle further and further away, deeper into the various hallways of the base, the camera suddenly gave out. Raf tried various ways to get it back online, before fumbling helplessly with the controller, unsure where his car was. Sighing, he shut his laptop and headed off to go locate it, slipping away unnoticed.

He was always amazed by just how big the base was. To be fair, he’d never really been to any military buildings before meeting the Autobots, but it was still impressive. The walls seemed to stretch off into infinity, and if he took off his glasses, the ceiling was so high up it became nothing more than a muddy blur. He tried his best to retrace the path his car had made, finding some small tire tracks every now and then left in the dust which told him he was going in the right direction. Yet once he got to the spot the camera feed had given out, he couldn’t see the car anywhere. He walked in circles, checking underneath everything. He’d driven it for a bit with no visuals, but surely it couldn’t have gone far . Or maybe he’d been going in a completely wrong direction, and the car was somewhere else…

“Looking for this?” 

Raf jumped a mile when a voice echoed out from above him. A very familiar voice. Sure enough, when he looked up, there sat Ratchet, smiling back down at him. He must’ve gotten so invested in his search that he’d accidentally wandered into the medbay! Pinched carefully between the medic’s digits was Raf’s car, which he carefully lowered down to the boy.

“I’m sorry, Ratchet- I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave now.” Raf nodded in thanks as he tucked the car under his arm.

“ Bother? Puh-lease! Is that why nobody’s been visiting me? They don’t want to bother me? I’m stewing in my own boredom, for crying out loud!” Ratchet grumbled, extending his servo for Raf to climb onto.

“The bots told us to leave you alone. Said you needed to recover.” Raf dangled his legs off the side of the medic’s servo as he was lifted up. Ratchet was never usually so enthusiastic to let humans touch him- not to mention he seemed kind of… Scatterbrained. “ Are you alright?” 

“I’m great. Not by choice, though.” After Raf was sat on his shoulder, Ratchet gestured to the patch that was covering his wound. Unlike the canvas patches he usually wore, this one seemed a lot more ‘high-tech’- or at least Cybertronian in design. “It’s a pain patch,” Ratchet explained, “Designed to temporarily disable pain sensors when more precise measures aren’t viable. It’s not very accurate, though- shuts off a lot of other sensors too. Basically just makes me a whole lot dumber and a whole lot more likely to laugh at something stupid.” He chortled, lying back on the medical berth but making sure he didn’t disturb Raf.

The boy couldn’t help but laugh along. It was rare to see Ratchet smile in the slightest, so the fact he had a stupid grin plastered on his faceplate was quite a sight to behold. “So it’s like an opioid?” He asked.

“Preeeeecisely. Opioid. Primus, you humans have some fraggin’ good words. Opioid. Meal. Mmmmmeal. That word rolls right off the glossa. I’m also a fan of bodacious . Ohh,, and Miko’s favourite… Rad. Don’t tell her I like that.

"Yes. Just like an opioidacious. But not addictive. Coming out of stasis when you sustained a nasty injury beforehand can leave your pain sensors scrambled and firing for no reason, causing needless agony. So they insisted on easing me out of it, just in case. I told them I was fine, but I guess the grimace on my face said otherwise, so they decided to waste valuable medical supplies to dope me up.” He rolled his optics.

It was rather hilarious watching Ratchet switch from dazedly talking about something stupid to giving an educational speech- it seemed that, even while impaired, his medic coding shone through. “As long as it’s making you better, Ratchet. I was really worried I was going to lose you.” Raf smiled sadly.

The medic’s face fell momentarily, before he shook his head, turning to the boy on his shoulder. “I may be old and rusty, but I’m not going anywhere any time soon. And you helped make sure of that. Words cannot describe how proud of you I am, Rafael.” He smiled back, tilting his helm towards Raf like a cat headbutting for affection. 

Raf couldn’t fight the urge to hug the side of the old bot’s helm, pressing a cheek to the cool metal. Ratchet was proud of him. High or not, that was praise he’d never expected to receive, especially from such a cranky medic. He heard Ratchet chuckle softly, reaching a single digit out to ruffle the boy’s hair affectionately.

Raf remembered when he’d first referred to Bumblebee as family, and Ratchet had scoffed at the idea. He suspected the Autobot had since changed his mind, though he’d never admit it. Raf certainly thought of the medic as something of a grandfather. His grumpy demeanour combined with the soft, secretly caring gaze of his optics reminded Raf of his own grandparents, who were often so busy with the rest of his siblings that he didn’t get noticed. He was lucky to have Ratchet.

Raf simply stood there for a while, hugging his grandpa-bot as closely as he could, listening to the barely audible whirr of his optics blinking softly and the living metal of his faceplate stretching into a smile. He wasn’t sure when he’d ever get a chance to hug Ratchet again, so he was going to make it last as long as he could. 

Eventually, though, the sound of pedesteps coming down the hallway caught their attention, and Raf broke the embrace as they both turned towards the doorway to see Bulkhead and Arcee walk in, Jack and Miko sat astride Bulkhead’s shoulders once more.

The smallest bot’s optical ridges lowered in frustration. “Raf. Didn’t we tell you to leave Ratchet-”

“Uh-uh. Zip it.” Ratchet held up a digit to silence Arcee, though he couldn’t seem to get his optics to focus on her. “I want him here. I was bored to death! You… you lot are the ones who insisted on drugging me up in the first place, you can’t just leave me with nothing to do!”

Arcee crossed her arms. “You’re meant to be resting.” She reminded him.

“I am resting! Do you see me up and moving about?” Ratchet gestured vaguely, propping himself back up on the berth. “This pain patch is already resting my processor for me, whether I like it or not!” he fired back.

“Ratchet’s acting funny.” Miko whispered to Jack.

“He’s on cybertronian painkillers.” Jack whispered back.

“Cool, like doctor House.”

“I really, really hope not.”

“Anyway,” Ratchet continued, “You’re just in time. I was about to tell young Rafael here about what you did when given a particularly high-end pain patch."

Arcee’s faceplate fell further. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, you know I would. In fact, I seem to remember you refusing to lay on your medical berth, instead wandering around telling the whole base how jealous you were of my thighs. I do recall you saying ‘he’s a medic, he doesn’t need all that’.”

Arcee’s face turned bright blue in embarrassment. The children all struggled to fight back laughter. Bulkhead, who had been there to witness the event when it happened, squeezed his optics shut tight to resist the urge to cackle.

“To be completely fair, Cliffjumper shared my sentiment, and he was sober.” She grumbled, staring intently at the floor.

Ratchet’s shit-eating grin slowly faded, a sad look taking its place. Despite how addled his processor was, something was clearly bothering him. “Cliffjumper.” he muttered, a small amount of static coating his words. “Arcee, what I said about Cliff-”

Arcee’s embarrassment faded in an instant as she walked closer to the berth Ratchet lay on. “You didn’t mean it, Ratchet.” She reassured.

“That doesn’t change anything!” He argued. “I saw the way you looked at me when I brought him up. That’s your signature ‘I wanna kick the slag outta you’ face. And, frag, did I deserve to have that happen.

“It’s just… I miss him. So much.” He lowered his helm, and Raf petted the side of it reassuringly. “I know my grief can’t compare, but he was still a teammate. A friend. I miss when he’d wake up extra early on morning patrol so he could spare some time to chat with me about whatever I was doing, even if he didn’t fully understand it. I miss the way he brought a laugh to even the darkest of situations. I miss that firm servo on my shoulder pad whenever I was doubting myself. I try my best to push the grief to the back of my head, with the grief of all the others we’ve lost, but…” Static peaked in his voice once more, and he took a moment to reboot his voicebox. “...Frag, this patch is ruining me. I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

Arcee sat on the side of the berth, her servo resting over his comparatively giant one in an effort to comfort him. “I was mad, at first.” She admitted. “Probably for too long. But I did eventually realize you simply missed him. Just like me. And then I thought- scrap, if it’d been me on the synthetic energon, I would’ve acted way worse. You’re stronger than me, Ratchet. Probably stronger than all of us.”

Ratchet looked at her, optics wide. Nobody spoke, for a moment, until he muttered very quietly- “Is it alright if I hug you?”

That was quite possibly the most un-Ratchet-like request ever. Both of the bots weren’t at all keen on physical touch- but right then, it didn’t matter. She nodded her helm, and Ratchet wrapped her arms around her softly, as to not disturb the boy still sitting on his shoulder, before letting out a long, shaky sigh. Bulkhead and his passengers watched the touching gesture from afar- the two most walled-off bots finding comfort in each other’s words was admittedly very sweet. Miko slid down Bulkhead’s arm and hugged one of his digits tight, in an effort to keep him from feeling left out.

When the hug finally broke, Arcee couldn’t help but smile. “We should get you high more often. You’re a lot sweeter.”

Ratchet scoffed, optics rolling. “Come on. You know what happened the last time I was inebriated for a long period of time. Wait for my chassis to mend up first, at least. Besides, you of all people know how much I’m gonna regret this once all my sensors are firing again.”

The whole group smiled. At least he was self-aware. “Bulkhead, get over here. you two, come sit in my servos. I’ve got some great stories I need to share before I regain my dignity.”

Jack and Miko both looked excited. They certainly weren’t passing up an opportunity to hang out with Ratchet, high or not. They each clambered into a servo, watching as Raf waved up at them.

“This story takes place back on Iacon, before the war. I was fresh out of what you humans would call ‘medical school’, at my first ever job. And I tell you, the drama in that hospital was like nothing you’ve ever heard…”

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as the team was regaled with millions of years of medical drama and funny patient stories Ratchet had built up, but had always been too cranky to share. Eventually, Bumblebee joined them, having returned from patrol- presumably, Optimus had too, though he never showed up. It was refreshing seeing the old bot laugh and smile like there was no tomorrow, even if he was out of his processor. 

Eventually, though, Ratchet began to run out of energy. His tales were interrupted by yawns- a phenomena that he hadn’t picked up until he’d been regularly exposed to humans, funnily enough- and his optics began to droop. He was desperate to continue sharing stories, but eventually he couldn’t stave off the need to recharge any longer, and he began snoring in the middle of his latest tale. 

Bulkhead had moved him into a more comfortable recharging position, before the group bid their medic a goodnight, finally leaving the medbay, smiles plastered on faces and faceplates alike. 

Just outside the entry to the medbay stood Optimus.

“I see Ratchet is doing well,” he observed.

“He’s recharging right now.” Bulkhead told him, a kid seated on each shoulder once more. “You should’ve come in with us- man, did he have some stories!”

“I will have to refuse. I would like to leave Ratchet to recover as quickly as possible.”

“Oh, come on! ”

The team all turned to Miko as she crossed her arms. “Dude, if you think you’re being slick about avoiding him, you’re totally not. Whatever it is bugging you two, talk about it! Sulking isn’t gonna help! You two not talking is gonna tear the whole team apart! Aren’t primes meant to be, like, good at talking to people? Giving great speeches and stuff?”

Silence fell on the group. Optimuses optical ridges furrowed a fraction of an inch. “Miko,” He began in a stern telling-off tone, “You are not to-”

“She’s right, though.” Arcee stepped forwards, cutting Optimus off. “You two need to get over whatever it is you have going on. Seeing you try so desperately to avoid each other… It’s getting annoying. This is the type of thing that leads to inside fighting- it’s happened to the decepticons several times, because they can’t communicate.”

Bumblebee let out a string of beeps in agreement, and Bulkhead nodded. “It’s got the whole base on edge…” He muttered.

Jack and Raf both nodded, too. Miko had been brave enough to say what they were all thinking. Everyone began to talk over each other, all trying to tell Optimus how he really needed to talk to Ratchet before the team imploded.

Optimus didn’t reply, or look at any of his team in the optics. As the chatter continued, he simply stood up straight and strode off, not saying a single word to anyone.

The team looked in the direction he had left, flabbergasted. 

“There’s no way he just…” Jack tried to make sense of what he had seen.

“That was not very prime-like.” Miko sighed.

The altercation had left the rest of the team on edge, a sharp contrast to how cheerful they had been mere minutes before. There was silence as they returned to the main part of the base, Bulkhead and Bumblebee dropping off their passengers on the catwalk before every bot headed off in a separate direction, tensions high once more.

From where they were sitting, Jack sighed. “Well, that backfired spectacularly.” He observed.

“What do we do now? What can we do?” Raf asked, turning to Miko. Both the boys looked at her, hope glimmering in their eyes. Miko always had a plan when it came to things like this.

Sure enough, she cracked her knuckles. “Now? It’s time we bring in the big guns.”

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight.”

Special Agent William Fowler sat at the table in the minimalist, white conference room that was usually reserved for top-secret military meetings. This time, however, three teens sat opposite him. Miko was spinning around on the office chair, doodling on the whiteboard, while Jack hid his face in his hands. Raf was the only one paying attention to him, but even then, his face was plastered with an awkward smile and he couldn’t meet Fowler’s eye.

“You called my emergency line- the one that I gave you for emergencies, tell me something’s wrong with the Autobots and request a private meeting at a top secret military base-  

-And you want me to play alien couples therapist?!”

“Pretty much.” Miko shrugged, spinning around to finally face the baffled man, several ‘cool S’s drawn on the whiteboard.

Fowler pinched the bridge of his nose. “I could have you all thrown in jail. I could have your entire existence erased. My heart damn near gave out on me when you told me something was wrong! I thought the earth was at stake!” He managed in one big, exasperated breath.

“You couldn’t erase us without the bots rampaging.” Miko reminded him.

“I’m surprised the bots themselves haven’t ‘erased’ you yet.” He grumbled.

“It is important, though-” Jack cut in before Miko could cause any more trouble. “The team is falling apart around them. The reason the team is so great at fighting off threats in the first place is because they’re so tight-knit. If that bond breaks, the whole world could be at risk.”

“Total annihilation because two old rustbuckets can’t say sorry to each other.” Agent Fowler could practically feel the remaining hairs on his head whitening from the stress. “Man, if you had told me years ago that a lifetime of training would have me babysitting glorified vacuum cleaners, I woulda laughed in your face.”

“You’re a boss like Optimus, and Grumpy like Ratchet. You’re the perfect middle man!” Miko reasoned, and Fowler was glad he didn’t have a big red ‘nuke everything’ button like they did in cartoons, because he would’ve pushed it right about then.

“I don’t have time to be doing things like this,” he insisted “You kids seem to forget I’m one of the government’s top guys.”

“Really? Because every time the Decepticons pose a threat, you’re always out of action.” Raf spoke up, and the entire table turned to him. Despite being the kindest of the three most of that time, he sure did have a sharp tongue when the situation called for it.

“Besides, aren’t you bored? Nothing cool’s happened in like, FOREVER, because Ratchet’s been out of action and the ‘Cons have been hiding away. Aren’t you sick of shredding files for general Brian?” Miko added.

“General Bryce. ” Fowler corrected- but the girl was admittedly right. His commander didn’t have any other uses for him when he wasn’t helping with the Autobots. He really had become an overqualified secretary. He sighed once more, unable to believe he was even considering the teens’ proposition. “Even if I were to help- What would I do? Prime doesn’t listen to me half the time, and I think Ratchet would dissect me like a frog if given the chance. If anything, I’d only make things worse.”

“Don’t you worry, Billy-boy-”

“ Never call me that.”

“I already have a plan. I just need your skills. Hell, hardly even that. You’re like a key I need, to… unlock the plan.”

Agent Fowler had run out of sighs, and fucks to give. “Dare I ask what your plan is?” he Inquired, immediately knowing he’d regret it.

…And that was how they’d found themselves in a room in the Autobot base that neither Raf nor Jack had ever seen before.

Miko had taken them on quite the adventure to get to it- they had to climb into the giant vents that ran throughout the building, weaving through the systems like some kind of maze. Both Miko and Fowler seemed to know exactly where they were going, the former beckoning the group over to a human-sized door in the giant vent tunnels. Throwing it open revealed a dusty old room, filled with blank TV screens and old speakers, with a control panel beneath them. Unlike the rest of the base, which had been outfitted with Cybertronian technology, this room remained very human- as if the bots had no idea it existed. Which, the two boys realized, they probably didn’t- the dust on the control panel showed it had been untouched for ages. 

“Miko, how did you find this room?” Agent Fowler raised a brow at the girl, who had seemingly called dibs on the shabby old office chair, kicking back in it and rolling across the room.

“I was exploring, duh.” She replied. “I like to come here when I wanna be alone- usually when Jack and Raf are bothering me about schoolwork. Don’t worry, I've got plenty of other hiding spots still.”

“This is a surveillance room. I never told the Autobots about it- partly because it was impossible for them to get to, and partly…”

“Just in case you ever needed to spy on them.” Raf finished the sentence for him.

Fowler nodded. “It hasn’t been used in ages, but I still have the access key.” From his pocket he produced a keyring with a card attached to it, holding it up to a scanner on the control panel. With a great heave of engines, the security system roared to life, computer fans blowing dust throughout the room which made them all cough. The screens crackled online, each one showing a room in the base. On one of them, Bee and Arcee could be seen, seemingly trying to master the human tradition of ‘rock, paper, scissors’. “As well as observing, you can also control almost every door in the base remotely.” Fowler explained, and pressed a button. On the screens, one of the large hangar-like doors slid shut.

Miko giggled. “This is just like fnaf.”

“Like… fernaff? What in the name of lady liberty is…”

“Nevermind. This is perfect, Fowler. Now it’s time to put our plan into action.”

About half an hour had passed since they had entered the surveillance room, and Miko, Jack and Agent Fowler sat waiting. They had sent Raf out to ask Ratchet to fetch something from a storage room- the same storage room Jack had just asked Optimus to retrieve something from, too. Soon, the Prime would be making his way there, his medic following close behind. They just needed to wait for Raf’s word.

“You’re really sure this’ll work?” Fowler asked Miko.

“I mean, yeah. If they don’t apologize to each other straight away, we just keep ‘em locked in there until they do. Kinda like an Autobot version of seven minutes in heaven.”

Jack couldn’t stifle his sigh. “Miko, don’t bore Agent Fowler with your theories.”

Miko stuck her tongue out in his direction. “You’re just mad because you know that 50$ is so mine.”

“What in Sam Hill are you two talking about?” Fowler cut back in, confusion written across his face.

“Miko thinks Optimus and Ratchet are in love,” Jack rolled his eyes, “I think they're just friends. So we’ve got a bet going on to see who’s right.”

“What do you think, Fowler? They’ve totally got the bot-hots for each other, right?”

Agent Fowler rested his chin on his fist. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “I… think you may have a point, Miko.” He admitted.

Jack’s eyes shot wide open. “You’re kidding .”

“I’ve seen hidden relationships between other agents before, before they’d go public. There’s a certain tenderness in their eyes when they look at each other. It might not translate directly to big robot optics, but the feeling’s still there. I must say, I’ve had my suspicions for a while, too.”

Jack opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. In the end, he slouched back into his chair, huffing. “Fine. Whatever. If you’re so sure, join the bet. I wouldn’t mind 100$.”

Fowler froze. He was a high ranking officer, he should not be joining in on bets with children . “C’mon, Fowler, let’s wreck him. You and me.” Miko pressured him.

He sighed loudly. As Miko had said, he was already locking two giant aliens in a room to make them talk about their feelings. His life couldn’t get any zanier. “Fine. You’re on. But if a single word of this gets out to my supervisors…”

Both teens made a zip-lipping gesture, just as the footfall of another human became audible. Raf burst through the door, huffing and puffing, having run all the way back. “He said he’s going now. Get the camera ready.”

The group all turned to one of the old, dusty screens. Despite its age, the surveillance technology was military grade, so it still provided a clear enough video and audio feed.

Sure enough, Optimus was visible in the room, the clank of his pedes crackling through the speakers as he wandered about, looking for the datapad Jack had asked him for. Ratchet entered behind him, saying nothing to the Prime as he went to the furthest corner of the room to look for whatever Raf had requested from him.

Wordlessly, Fowler cracked his knuckles and pressed a big red button on the control panel. A loud CRASH was heard as the door to the room the two were in slid from the ceiling, shutting them off. Both the bots whirled to face the source of the noise, scalpels sliding out from Ratchet’s wrist joints as a precaution. Upon realizing the sound had just been the door, Optimus walked over and tried to open it- first using the lever next to the door, and when that didn’t work, trying to lift it.

“You sure it’ll hold them?” Raf spoke up, watching as Ratchet switched from his scalpels to his welding tools and tried to melt the door away, still with no luck.

“Hope so. That room was originally designed to be a fallout shelter, the most radiation-proof thing this side of the country. Which means once it’s locked off, nothing’s getting in or out without permission. ‘Course, it’s never been tested against giant robots, but…” Fowler was cut off as his phone jingled in his pocket. He checked the caller I.D., and quickly shushed the kids. “It’s Optimus.”

On the screen, the kids could see that the Prime had a digit held to his audial, the way he did when he was using the commlinks. “Greetings, Agent Fowler.” His voice came through the speakers and Fowler’s phone. 

“Prime! There’s been a power outage in the town. You and your metal menagerie alright?”

“We are well. However, Ratchet and I have been locked into a room on base, and are unable to release ourselves.”

“Thought that might happen. Hang tight, I’m already headed your way with an override key, no need for a groundbridge- we don’t know how much of the base’s power is out. Just try not to wreck the place.”

“We will remain where we are until you arrive. Many thanks, Agent Fowler.” And with that, Optimus ‘hung up’. A classic disgruntled Ratchet noise echoed through the speakers, the Medic clearly not too happy with the predicament as Optimus sat criss-cross applesauce on the floor again. He seemed to have developed a habit, though both Prime and Medic continued to ignore one another.

“Wow. You’re really good at lying.” Jack observed.

“Well, duh. He works for the government.” Miko shrugged. Fowler raised a finger as if to argue, but sighed and said nothing. She was right. “Now… We wait.”

For the first few minutes, neither of the bots said anything to each other. Optimus remained sitting, barely moving outside of occasionally drumming his digits against the concrete floor. Ratchet, servos clasped behind his back, paced back and forth, staring intently at the ground, optical ridges knitted in frustration… and pain, it seemed. The longer he paced, the more he seemed to limp and let out hisses of discomfort. Eventually, it got bad enough that he had to stop his pacing, groaning and shifting the weight off his injured side as best he could, servo clutched to his chassis. The wound had been healing much better once the withdrawals had cleared his system, but Ratchet still seemed to be in more pain than he should be.

Finally, Optimus spoke up. “Are you alright?” He asked. It was a simple, short question, but it was a start .

“I’m fine. ” Ratchet shot back, a glare that could kill being sent in Optimuses direction. As if to prove the fact, he resumed his pacing, trying his best to fight back the urge to hiss with every step.

After a few more minutes of this, one of his pedes landed wrong and he stumbled a bit, jolting his already agitated injury and causing him to yelp in pain.

Optimus turned to him, a stern look on his faceplate. “Stress can aggravate injuries and prolong healing times. Are you sure you are alright?”

“Remind me, who’s the medic here?” Ratchet snarled back. “Last time I checked, it wasn’t you .”

“I am merely concerned for the health of a teammate. If you are stressed-”

“Fine! I am stressed!” Ratchet finally exploded, throwing his servos in the air. “And it certainly doesn’t help that my leader refuses to look me in the optics when he speaks to me, and, Primus , refuses to speak to me most of the time, too!”

“Ratchet. This avoidance has not been one-sided.” Optimus stood up, drawing closer to the agitated medic. “Whenever I try to approach you, I am met with hostility. I was under the impression you did not want to speak to me.”

“Don’t shift this all on me, Prime. I- you -” Ratchet seemingly couldn’t make a compelling argument. Optimus was right, he admitted it. He jabbed an accusing digit towards the Prime, but no words left his voicebox.

“Ratchet. Whatever it is I have done to upset you, I apologize-”

“ No! ” Static crackled through his voicebox as he cut Optimus off “ Don’t apologize. I don’t deserve an apology!”

Optimus was taken aback by the sudden change in Ratchet’s demeanour. He didn’t say anything, allowing his medic to continue.

“You forgive, Optmus. It’s what you do. It’s why you’re a leader. You’ve got a love in your spark that none of the rest of us have. 

“But I shouldn’t be forgiven. What I said- what I did - I saw the hurt in your optics, and when the synth-en left my system, I felt my spark shatter a million times over. I was cruel. I insulted you, your leadership, the whole team, and then I ran off, and- and-” He gestured wildly at the wound on his chassis, choking back a sob. He was on a roll now, there was no stopping him- it was obvious this self-hatred had been brewing inside the medic for a long, long while.

“I’ve caused you nothing but trouble. Even while recovering. Because you shouldn’t forgive me for what I did. You deserve to be mad. You deserve better. Far better than me.”

Silence fell. Nobody could bring themselves to say a word. Ratchet faced towards the corner, armor plates shaking softly. Optimus didn’t move for a while, a distraught look on his faceplate.

Eventually, he took one step forward. And then another. He took Ratchet’s shoulderplate in his servos, and gently turned the medic to face him. He knelt down, so he was at the same level as Ratchet, not towering above him. 

“Ratchet.” He began. “You are my closest ally and my oldest friend. I don’t know what I would do without you.

“You are the only one left who is willing to criticize my order- the only one to correct me if I am doing something wrong. Without you, I am sure to have fallen into Megatron’s clutches a million times over. You keep me on the right path, guide me when everyone else is too afraid to speak up. They all see me as a fearless leader- you see me as a friend .

“When you said those things, I was not mad. I never even considered it. As I waited at the side of your berth for you to wake, I took a long time to think about my leadership, and you were right. There have been things I have not been doing correctly, and I rely on you to guide me when the wisdom of the primes is not enough. I do not want to lose you because you are too afraid to speak up. I am not sure what I would do without you, what we would do without you. 

“You are right, though. I suppose I cannot forgive you. Because there was never anything to forgive. I would rather have my spark go cold than lose you… Old Friend .”

For the first time since his injury, Ratchet’s gaze met those deep blue optics. They stared into each other’s sparks, not saying a word. There was nothing that needed to be said. A mutual understanding had settled between the two of them, lifting the weight of words unsaid off of their backs as they looked at one another.

And then their lips met.

In the surveillance room, all four sets of jaws hit the floor. None of them could quite believe their eyes as the two pressed their frames together, deepening what was undeniably a kiss. A very passionate kiss. They backed into the corner, Optimus crouching as Ratchet wrapped his arms around the back of the taller bot’s neck.

It was Miko who spoke first, pumping her fist in the air. “YES!!!” She cheered, before beginning an impromptu dancing session, shuffling circles around Agent Fowler. “Jack owes us 50 bu-ucks! Jack owes us 50 bu-ucks!” She sang, finally extending a hand for Fowler to high-five. Still completely shocked, Fowler slapped her hand, eyes never leaving the screen. 

Jack blinked hard. When the first blink didn’t change what he was saying, he blinked again. And again. When that didn’t work, he pinched his forearm. There was no way he could be seeing what he was seeing.

“Come on! Pay up! We shook on it, remember?!” Miko reminded him, still doing a celebratory dance around the room.

“I-I… Mmm-” Jack tried desperately to come up with a counter argument.

“You’re still trying to deny it?! C’mon, they’re sucking the dentures out of each other’s mouths right in front of our eyes! ”

That wasn’t a particularly nice way to put it, but she was right. Jack sighed, rolling his eyes but reaching into his pocket and cracking open his wallet nonetheless. He had lost, fair and square. He rifled through the wallet as Miko cheered again, producing a 50$ bill which he offered up to Fowler first, given he was being considerably less annoying.

Finally tearing his eyes away from the screen, Agent Fowler shook his head. “Kid, your taxes make up most of my salary already. Keep your 50$.” He instructed.

“Aww! Spoilsport!” Miko booed, but quickly shut up as the note was thrust angrily into her hand, going back to dancing around the room.

Finally, Optimus and Ratchet broke the kiss. Cybertronians didn’t need to catch their breath- but they did need to regulate their temperatures, which could get very hot very quickly after such a kiss. The sounds of their cooling fans roaring to life, thrumming in unison, was loud enough to be picked up through the static of the speakers.

Forehelms pressed together, servos holding each other close, Ratchet was the first to speak up again. 

“I love you. Primus , I love you so much. I’m so sorry-”

A single digit was pressed to Ratchet’s lips as Optimus met his eyes again. “No more apologies.” Was all he said. Ratchet could only manage a nod as they gave into the urge to kiss once more- so intense that smoke spilled from the smokestacks upon Optimuses back.

“Wow, they’re like, really in love.” Miko noted, watching the screen, 50$ clutched to her chest. She turned back to face Raf, who was sitting on the floor nearby, a cheesy smile on her face. “Dude, aren’t you mad you didn’t join the bet? You could’ve bought some new nerd technology! Or a sweater vest that isn’t three sizes too big!”

Raf, also smiling widely, shook his head. “It wouldn’t have been fair if I joined. I already knew.”

The whole room turned to Raf, eyes wide. Raf just rocked back and forth, a movement he tended to do when he was happy or content. “You KNEW?!” Miko yelled. “And you didn’t tell us?! How did you even know to begin with-” Miko paused, answering her own question. “-Bee told you, didn’t he.” She realized. Bee told that guy everything .

The boy nodded. “I was sworn to secrecy! I kinda just thought everyone knew, anyway.” He shrugged.

Before Miko could bombard him with questions, Agent Fowler cleared his throat. “I think it’s about time we free our companions. They’ve definitely made up.” He deduced. Glancing back to the tv and seeing just how fiery the kiss had gotten, Fowler was rather desperate to interfere before… anything else could happen. 

Miko stared at the screen for a moment longer so she could make her memory of the event as vivid as possible. This was not something she wanted to forget- unlike Jack. She finally pulled away, nodding. “Good idea. And I think it’s best we don’t tell ‘em- or anyone’ what we saw.”

“Duh.” Raf piped up. Of course, he was totally telling Bumblebee- but that was different.

Once they finally reached the giant set of doors, Fowler knocked against it heavily. “Prime! You and the doctor alright in there?” He called, giving the two bots a chance to get their glossae out of each other’s throats. 

There was the very audible sound of two bots untangling themselves, before Optimus spoke. “We are okay, Agent Fowler. Are you able to let us out?” He inquired, voice surprisingly steady for someone who had just been in such a long makeout session.

“On it.” He replied, producing the same keycard on his keyring and holding it up to the entry panel outside the door. 

With a click and a hiss, the door slid back open, revealing Optimus and Ratchet standing next to each other, blank expressions on their faces, cheeks both dusted a light blue- not enough for the average person to pick out, unless they were aware what the two had been up to moments prior. It was so hilarious to see two old bots act like a highschool couple that even Jack found himself unable to stop smiling. 

Ratchet was the first to speak again. “Why did you bring the children?” He asked, raising an optical ridge. “And why are they all grinning like idiots?”

“Just… happy to see you guys.” Raf lied. “We wanted to assist with your rescue.”

“You have already saved our team enough recently, young Rafael.” Optimus smiled softly, a servo resting on his medic’s shoulder plate.

Ratchet rolled his optics. “Cut that out, or he’ll have an ego worse than Starscream’s.” He chortled, leaning into the Prime’s touch.

“Good to see you two getting along again.” Fowler smiled, trying not to let on what he knew. Neither bot said anything, but the way they smiled back was more than enough of an answer. “What’s on the schedule now you’re free?”

Ratchet gave a tired sigh, blinking slowly. “I think I need to rest. I’ve been overexerting myself- for far too long.”

The others tried to hide their amazement. Ratchet agreeing to recharge without being threatened? Miko thought hell would freeze over before she saw the day.

Optimus nodded, servo moving to rub a circle on Ratchet’s back. “Would you mind if I accompanied you to your berthroom? I believe we have a lot to catch up on.”

“Indeed we do.” The old bot smiled, starting off down the hallway.

Optimus hung back, nodding again to his human friends. “I must thank you again for the rescue.” He smiled, before heading off, once again resting a reassuring servo on his old friend as they walked away, chatting to each other as they went.

Miko smiled as they walked away, her 50$ clutched tightly in her hand. Sure, the money was great- but seeing Optimus and Ratchet getting along again was beyond priceless.

Chapter Text

It was late. 

Jack Darby lay on the couch in the base, trying his best to will the energy to move from it onto the mattress set up on the floor for him. His mother had called, informing that she’d had to pick up some extra shifts at the hospital- and she didn’t want Jack home alone. Usually, he’d argue he was old enough to spend a night home on his own, but he wasn’t about to pass up a chance to spend the night at the base all on his own. Sure, sleepovers with his friends were nice, but having the base to himself was almost magical. Not to mention Raf kicked in his sleep, and even though they were all on different mattresses, Jack somehow almost always ended up getting whacked at least once.

All the other bots had gone to recharge, he assumed. All the lights were off, save the soft glow from the base computer and a few overhead lights on the catwalk. It was almost ethereal. It was times like this when Jack liked to close his eyes and imagine he was on Cybertron- the stories his guardians told of their homeworld enchanted him to no end. He liked to imagine the planet in its glory days, everything lit up neon, bots walking around and talking among each other.

Tonight, though, he was far too busy replaying the events of the day back in his head. Jack still couldn’t quite believe it. Seeing Optimus and Ratchet kiss so fervently, holding each other close- He’d never really considered the fact that Cybertronians could have romantic relationships. But, as much as he hated to say it, Miko had been right. Optimus and Ratchet were definitely a thing, there was no way he could deny that now. And, looking back- he couldn’t believe how oblivious he’d been. Jack supposed it was partly him not considering romance as an option for their species, and partly because he really, really wanted to prove Miko wrong. He knew damn well he was never living that bet down. He should’ve just nodded and not opposed her crazy theories- which had turned out to be true, in the end.

“Are you alright, old friend?”

The voice caught Jack off guard. He was so caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t heard anyone enter the room. He peeked over the back of the couch carefully.

There stood Optimus and Ratchet, pressed close to one another, holding each other’s forearms. Softly, ever so carefully, Optimus brushed a servo over his partner’s wounded chassis. “How are you feeling now?”

“Much better,” He admitted with a half-laugh-half-sigh. “You were right. I think all the stress really was causing it to ache like no tomorrow.” Ratchet brought his own servo up to rest over Optimuses, smiling softly. “It should heal up- mostly.”

The Prime tilted his helm. “Mostly?”

“The synthetic energon may have interfered with my self-healing systems somewhat. The hole in my chassis will close over- slag, it’s already two-thirds of the way there- but the metal over the wound may look… unsightly. A lack of color, a slight warping of the healed metal-”

“Like a scar.” Optimus finished the sentence. Cybertronians could get injured, but unless there were problems with their self-repair systems, wounds almost always closed over fully, or could be repaired by an outside source. General wear and tear was common, but big scars were considerably rarer.

“A bit of cosmetic surgery would fix it right up- but we don’t have the resources.” Ratchet shook his helm. “I’ll just have to deal with a slightly… ‘funky’ chassis for a long while.”

“Mark my words, no matter what, you will be no less beautiful to me.” Optimus reassured, pulling his sparkmate closer.

Ratchet rolled his optics, but couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “You sap, you.” He chided.

Optimus smiled back for a moment, but his faceplate faltered. “Ratchet… I must apologize for avoiding you for so long, and making you feel so unwanted-”

“Yeeep yep-” A digit was waggled at the taller bot. “If I’m not allowed to apologize anymore, then neither are you.”

Optimus paused, before nodding. “Very well.” He replied, resting his helm in Ratchet’s neck cabling. They began to sway back and forth, stepping side to side, wrapped around each other- not quite coordinated enough to be considered a dance, more like a simple, soothing motion.

Jack couldn’t believe his ears when they started to purr .

He knew Cybertronians could purr, of course. Technically, it was just a rumble of their engines they released when happy, but the acoustics made them sound like giant, mechanical cats. It was admittedly very cute. Bulkhead and Bumblebee purred often, when interacting with the kids and laughing together. Arcee was a lot more reserved, never daring to purr in front of others- but sometimes, when it had been just her and Jack, laughing about something stupid, the teen could hear a gentle rumble echo from his guardian as she smiled. Hell, he’d even heard Starscream purr- the ‘Con tended to feel very proud of his evil schemes, and was bad at hiding it.

But he’d never expected to hear Optimus and Ratchet purr- not in a million years. Especially not this loudly . Yet there he was, watching them, and their engines were rumbling away, the vibrations reverberating through Jack’s body although they were all the way across the room. Much like a cat’s, the frequency was calming, and Jack couldn’t stop himself from smiling, watching the two bots sway to and fro. He’d never seen such a pure love- millions of years spent at each other’s sides, staying with one another despite all the odds. Millions of years of trust, of respect, of adoration. Any residual anger from losing the bet vanished from Jack- seeing such a true display of mutual love warmed his heart to no end.

“Besides-” Optimus mumbled, voice soft and muffled in his partner’s neck, “If you wanted the scar gone, I am sure you could always ask Miko. I can guarantee she will be very excited to patch you up with her ‘nail polish’.”

Ratchet laughed a hearty, full laugh. “Don’t even say that. You’ll jinx it. She’ll come in next week with bottles of the stuff in ‘autobot medic white’.”

“Mmm… Maybe she will paint your digits a pretty colour too. Aquamarine, to match your optics…”

“I don’t need ‘pretty digits’ when I’m rooting around in somebot’s insides to keep their spark from going out.” Ratchet huffed.

Jack very nearly giggled at the thought, but caught himself before a sound left his mouth. He couldn’t give himself away.

But the two swaying bots were turning closer and closer to him… He wouldn’t have long until he was inevitably caught in their line of sight. Mere moments before he was caught, Jack dropped back down,sprawling across the couch and closing his eyes- not squeezed tight, just closed enough to give the illusion of sleep. He slowed his breathing, too- many years of gaming past his bedtime had left Jack an expert at the art of pretending to sleep.

Sure enough, he heard Optimus stop, and Ratchet give a disgruntled noise before realizing what had caught his partner’s attention- though neither stopped purring.

“I recall now that young Jack was staying the night on base.” Optimus spoke. “I do not think he has seen us. I believe he is… ‘sleeping’.”

“And in a slaggin’ awful position, too,” Ratchet tutted, and Jack could hear the sharp taps of his pede tapping against the concrete repeatedly. “Doesn’t he know sleeping like that will mean he’ll wake up with a sore back tomorrow?!”

“I did not know you had become so familiar with human biology.” Optimus looked surprised.

“I’m not. But I do remember, back when my joints were far less rusty, meeting a young archivist who would fall asleep in the most peculiar spots and come complaining to me when his backstrut ached the next day.”

Optimus hummed fondly. “I recall a young medic who would lecture me every time. But he was far too pretty for me to be paying attention… In fact, he still is.”

A single blare of Ratchet’s siren sounded, startling Jack so badly he nearly shot up and gave himself away. The old bot mumbled, embarrassed. “Several million years and you still haven’t gotten tired of flustering me?”

“I never will.” Optimus replied.

Ratchet sighed defeatedly, engines still rumbling away happily. “Be careful next time- I’m amazed that didn’t wake Jack up.”

Jack was, of course, wide awake- but Ratchet was right. If he hadn’t been, such a loud noise would definitely have roused him. He lay still, keeping up his charade, but his mind was reeling. A young archivist? Was that what Optimus did before he was a Prime? Jack had always just thought he’d been born leading troops into battle- like that was what he had been coded to do. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense- Optimus had a gentleness in his old, weathered optics that never seemed right for battle. Jack couldn’t help but wonder if Optimus wanted to return to such a simple life, just him and Ratchet, with no war to speak of.

His thoughts wandered off as he became aware of two servos on either side of him- even with his eyes closed, he could still feel the warmth radiating off of them- and, of course, hear the deep, happy purr coming from their owner. Jack lay completely unmoving as the servos very carefully scooped him up from the couch. They felt flatter and larger than Ratchet’s- but there was no way-

“Be careful not to trap any of his armor in your joints- I remember Miko being rather unhappy when Bulkhead accidentally tore one of her ‘chee cawas’.” Ratchet cautioned- and his voice was too far away to belong to the bot currently holding Jack.

Which could only mean that the Optimus Prime, leader of an entire planet, was currently cradling Jack to his chassis as if he were a tiny kitten. “I believe that human armor is called ‘clothes’, Ratchet.” He rumbled.

The warmth of Optimuses servos, combined with the calming purr and the fact that Jack was already rather sleepy was beginning to take effect. He could feel himself growing wearier in the giant bot’s hold- it reminded him of when he was far, far younger, and he would pretend to fall asleep in the back of the car after a long drive so his mother would scoop him up in her arms and carry him to bed.

“I wish I could hold the children like this all the time,” Optimus sighed sadly, slowly lowering Jack towards his mattress, “show them the same affection their guardians do. But that would put a target on their backs, and I could not bear to lose them.”

“They still care for you,” Ratchet soothed. “They think you’re amazing.”

The Prime hummed. “When this war is over, I would love nothing more than to spend time with them.”

Neither bot spoke for a while as Optimus finally placed Jack on the mattress, very carefully pulling some blankets up to cover the boy, smoothing them out with a digit. “This war will soon end, Ratchet.” He spoke.

“Optimus, I’m your conjunx. You don’t have to give me false hope-” The medic began, but was cut short.

“I fully believe it. Earlier in the war, I would say it often to rally my Autobots, yes. But I feel it, Ratchet. Deep in my spark- perhaps in the matrix itself- we are in the final stretch. I am not sure how or why, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Ratchet ex-vented, and Jack, who was now losing the battle against sleep, heard him lean his helm against Optimuses shoulder plate. “I hope you’re right.” He whispered, as if saying it any louder would shatter the dream.

As they began to walk away from Jack’s bed, Optimus spoke once more. “When it is over, would you like to spend the rest of our lives together? To always be at each other’s sides, and show affection without fear?” He asked.

The last thing Jack heard before he drifted off was Ratchet’s voice.

“I would love nothing more.”