FIC: Necessary Repairs (Human Series)
Necessary Repairs
By Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Bumblebee/Sam, Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, Optimus/Ratchet, Mikaela/Prowl
Summary: A continuation of the ‘human’ series, which are in order:
Forms of Life
Too Human
Experiments in Human Nature
Public Education
Knee-Jerk Reaction
Nervous System Hypothesis
Different Applications of Moral Support
This Body Electric
The Unconscious Mind
Subliminal Messages
Greeks Bearing Gifts
In a Dark Ruby Stain
Interruptions in the Key of C
Half to Rise, Half to Fall
Moments of Forgiveness
Topics of Conversation
Lies of Omission
The Theory of Existence
Beyond My Brave Facade
Parental Interaction In The Third Degree
Field Trips Into the Hypothetical
Arrested Developments of the Heart
Also the AU Attention Getting Device
Note: When I started working on this again, it was fully with the intention to just finish the series so that it wouldn't be left incomplete. Going on and on wasn't quite what I'd had in mind, but hey, I won't complain. If the secondary characters want their time to shine, I can work with that. :)
~~*~~
Ratchet had never pretended to be an expert on organics, human or otherwise, but if there was one thing he had noted in their short time on Earth, it was that humans and Autobots did have one thing in common when it came to their personal relationships; both species could be incredibly stupid about it.
So while he had no trepidation about leaving Sam with Bumblebee, he did linger close enough to monitor them until he was certain that neither of them was going to indulge in any possible idiocy. Sam might have gotten his quota in for the day but there was always a chance that Bumblebee would ruin any opportunity Ratchet had to get some rest tonight with a little bonus stupidity.
He didn’t listen to their actual conversation, but he did track Sam's physical status, only easing back when his heartbeat resumed its normal cadence. Ratchet took that as a sign that Bumblebee was in a forgiving mood and left them to it, driving off in the direction of his own quarters. It had been some time since he'd been to them and he made yet another reminder to himself to have them moved closer to the infirmary. It was one of the reasons he usually recharged in his office rather than his quarters, since he disliked being so far away from his patients.
An incoming transmission from Optimus caught his attention and Ratchet allowed it, a little surprised. They must not have wasted any time in returning to Autobot City. --Optimus?--
--Can you meet me at the infirmary?--
--Did they fight you?-- Ratchet demanded, more shocked than perhaps he should have been. Sunstreaker lashing out wouldn't have unrealistic and in the heat of the moment, it was entirely possible that Sideswipe would have sided with his brother. It wouldn't have been the first time that a spark twin was abruptly dragged along by a sibling's unexpectedly strong emotions before their processors overwrote it with their own.
--Not at all--, Optimus replied and Ratchet relaxed before he'd even had time to realize he'd tensed. He was, frankly, exhausted and just the thought of spending hours in surgery repairing damage over such idiocy made his optics ache in sympathetic pain. Ruthlessly, he suppressed it. There was no time for this, not if the Decepticons were capable of sending the sort of virus that had nearly killed Bumblebee over Earth's networks. The entire planet needed new security programming and they needed it quickly, but adapting Cybertronian technology wasn't nearly as difficult as convincing the humans to use it.
Not for the first time, Ratchet was very grateful that the politics were Optimus's arena. He was content to work behind the scenes.
--I need to speak with you--, Optimus sent, --face to face, if you don't mind. --
It seemed that tonight was a night for surprises. Ratchet had no idea what Prime might wish to talk to him about that couldn't be discussed on a private channel. Now that Jazz was gone, Ironhide was second in command. Ratchet was singularly uninterested in military advancement, particularly since he was only the lead medical officer because he was currently the only medical officer. That was, when he wasn't trying to play counselor to beings who couldn't find their waste disposal units with both hands, he thought sourly.
--Fine--, he replied, not bothering to hide his irritation. --But meet me at my quarters. Sam and Bumblebee are currently at the infirmary and I'd rather not interrupt them.--
Optimus confirmed and shut down the connection just as Ratchet pulled up to the door of his quarters. He didn't go in, only transformed and stretched out his large frame, groaning a little in relief. Human vehicles were so confining that it felt good to stand, stretching out struts and hydraulics that had to compress tightly to fit in his current alternate form.
He gave his quarters speculative consideration before deciding to remain outside for the moment. There was very little room in his personal quarters for him to even stand fully upright, much less stretch. To a human, they probably seemed expansive but the only way he and Optimus would both fit was if Ratchet sat in his lap, hardly the most dignified of positions, or in their vehicle mode which would defeat his desire to stretch out his joints. Not that he was protesting; Ratchet hadn't had personal quarters since they'd left Cybertron and his infirmary was more than spacious enough at the moment to accommodate his other needs.
Instead, he settled on the ground with a hiss of static as the struts in his feet sent up protests to his main pain processors. Too many hours standing in one position and were he any other mech, he'd be on the receiving end of his own lectures. A quick diagnostic told him there was only superficial damage; a few hours of recharge and his internal systems would recalibrate them. Barring any other emergencies, that was; stupidity obviously transcended species, and Ratchet was in no mood for anything else to happen tonight. He was exhausted, and that was the only reason he'd bothered to come to his own quarters; he'd be less likely to have his recharge interrupted. The way he felt now there could be a full-fledged attack from a fleet of Decepticons and the heat of his anger would probably destroy half of them mid-flight.
He'd barely settled to sit on the ground when Optimus turned the corner, braking gently next to him before he transformed, settling to sit next to Ratchet. He was close enough that their legs brushed slightly and Ratchet drew back, moving enough to give the larger Autobot more room. The slight frown Optimus gave him for it he ignored. Sometimes he suspected Optimus was picking up a few too many human habits; much as he enjoyed the humans, and Sam in particular amused him for all his young foolishness, they were still alien to him. He liked them, but touching so often outside of a directed pleasurable interface was not an Autobot trait. As far as Ratchet was concerned, all he got out of it was scratched paint that used up too much precious energy in repairs.
Whatever Optimus thought of Ratchet's reticence, he didn't comment, only raised a privacy shield around them, the faint hum of it registering low on Ratchet's auditory scanner.
"How is he?" Optimus asked him finally and Ratchet hardly needed to ask who.
"Physically? He's a little bruised. And exhausted." Ratchet had been very thorough in his scans of Sam while he'd had him. "His systems still aren't fully recovered from the viral attack and they are also adapting to the presence of his receptors, but that's no cause for concern. Mentally? I couldn't begin to conjecture."
Optimus frowned. "You didn't speak to him?"
"Of course I did, have you ever known me to give the silent treatment?" Ratchet said irritably. "Given his state of mind at the time, it seemed best to stick close to his expectations of me. I lectured him for sneaking out of the city and left him with Bumblebee…his receptors are nearly at full charge, which means he engaged in some form of sexual interaction with either Sideswipe or Sunstreaker. Probably Sideswipe." Since Sideswipe had been helping Bee and Sam before and he highly doubted either of them would allow Sunstreaker any privileges. Not after Sam had come to him with the a broken arm and the smell of both twins all over him. It was a good thing Ratchet had quickly dispersed that scent as he'd treated Sam's arm or any attempts at concealing what had happened would have been useless.
"I can't be certain how Sam is going to react to that intimacy," Ratchet added, studying his own hands. He spread his fingers to their full capacity and inspected each tool carefully. Ironhide and many of the others might be able to carry on with minor injuries until their internal repairs systems took care of them but a medical officer had no such luxury. The difference between a live comrade and a dead one could be depended on all his apparatuses being in perfect condition.
A quick scan confirmed that his tools were in flawless order and Ratchet let them all slide back into their compartments before he gave Prime a narrow look. "So long as I have you still, let me look at that knee joint." No one else would have noticed Optimus had been favoring his left leg the past day and Ratchet would prefer to repair any superficial damage before it became significant enough that the others did notice. Due to constant movement joint damage could quickly become critical and Ratchet doubted he could get Optimus to keep still long enough for his own systems to repair the damage.
"That isn't why I came to speak with you," Optimus reminded him, but he shifted enough for Ratchet to inspect the joint, releasing the armor catches and setting the plates aside so that he could examine the inner workings.
"Then you should have considered that before you asked to see me up close and personal," he retorted. If Optimus wanted to touch, he would at least make that touch useful.
But he knew himself well enough to know when he was trying to avoid answering a question and he also knew Prime would wait patiently until he did. Still, he took the time to clean the grit away from the hydraulics, grimacing at the amount of dirt that had worked its way into the inner gears. No wonder the humans called this planet Earth, the corrosive substance managed to get into everything.
Optimus said nothing, only twitched very slightly when Ratchet brushed against sensitive circuitry. "Sorry," he murmured, but he didn't offer to offline Optimus's pain receptors. Ratchet could see at least two gears were nearly stripped which meant Optimus should have come to see him days ago. Let him suffer a little. He did what he could with his field tools and took a moment to rearrange his schedule for the next day so that Optimus could come in for a full repair. They might not have access to a full medical bay loaded with spare parts but at the very least Ratchet could configure essential gears and cabling.
"I suspect there will be some repercussions," Ratchet admitted at last, settling the armoring back into place. "Humans are very selective about their mating practices. I'm hoping Bumblebee will soothe some of his concerns."
"I'm sure he will," Optimus said. "He cares for Sam a great deal."
"I know," Ratchet murmured and if Optimus either heard or sensed his concern about that, he didn't indicate it. Ratchet decided he had had quite enough of this topic for the day. What would happen, would happen; those two had been foremost in his processors for long enough. He really was not a counselor. "Where are the twins?"
"With Ironhide in the large hanger. We don't have anything in the way of solitary confinement at the moment."
No, they didn't. With so few of them on Earth, a detention block had seemed ridiculous. Decepticons were destroyed, not taken prisoner. Let them plead defense of their actions to Primus.
Speaking of defenses, "Did either of them offer an explanation for their actions?"
"Not that they provided. Sideswipe only agreed with everything I accused and Sunstreaker said nothing at all."
There was a surprise. There were times that Ratchet had wished, fervently, that Sunstreaker had been the one to have his vocal processors ripped away. He might have taken his time repairing them. "Sunstreaker didn't say anything?"
"Not a sound or even a text file," Optimus confirmed. He seemed equally troubled by Sunstreaker's silence. "I'll speak to them again tomorrow to discuss punishment."
"Yes, I said much the same to Sam."
Optimus made a low rumbling sound of agreement, stretching out his leg to test the joint. The stripped gears would still ache in his pain processors but at least the irritating filth was cleaned away. Ratchet was going to have to, again, remind his fellow Autobots that they needed to clean out the dirt and grit daily, at least with a hard spray of water if not a full sterilization.
Optimus seemed satisfied with the basic repair, settling back before he said, softly, "You are aware that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are engaging in physical intimacy again?"
"What?" Ratchet couldn't suppress his shock. "No, I wasn't. You’re sure?"
"Oh, yes," Optimus said, heavily. "The signs were unmistakable."
"I thought Sideswipe had abandoned attempts at any sort of real relationship with his spark twin some ages ago," Ratchet said crossly. "I had no idea he was that masochistic." He'd noticed the unusual resonance in their spark signature when he'd been treating Sunstreaker for his injuries but he'd taken it as simple distress. They were meant to resonate with each other to some degree which was precisely why spark twins could be difficult to treat. When he'd gone through Sunstreaker's databanks after bypassing his firewall, he'd only been looking for signs illicit data transfer, nothing personal. Bludgeoning his way through someone else's memory was unpleasant enough without getting a secondhand dose of their experiences.
"Were it anyone else, I doubt he would be," Optimus said quietly. There was a great deal of unspoken truth to that; Optimus would know more about reactions between spark twins than Ratchet. There were something things that couldn't be properly explained in simple words or even data transfer.
Well, let Sideswipe commit his own emotional suicide. Ratchet would be there to patch of the inevitable physical results when they came. "Have you decided on their punishment yet?"
"Of course. Two weeks of double duty, apart from each other. I believe I'll assign Sunstreaker to Ironhide. Considering the damage he did to the sensor arrays, it will take him the entire time to repair them."
"I thought you were punishing the twins. What did Ironhide do to deserve another two weeks of Sunstreaker?" Ratchet said dryly. "And Sideswipe?"
"Perhaps I'll assign him to guard Ron Witwicky and give him the opportunity to explain to the man why he nearly got his son killed." More scathing than Prime would have allowed any of the others to hear him.
Ratchet would never express his disapproval about a reprimand verbally, not to his Prime, but his expression spoke for him. "I believe he only thought he was assisting Sam and Mikaela in a little youthful mischief," he said, lightly. "This level of trouble was not his intention."
The tone of the report he'd left explaining that the two of them were with him off-base certainly seemed to indicate that. Bumblebee had still wanted to chase them down but it would have been pointless without some directional indicator and by the time they'd been ready to ask Sunstreaker to track down his twin for them, he had disappeared as well. It was only when the police scanner had lit up with reports of shots fired in a small town nearby that they had been able to mobilize.
"The humans have a saying about good intentions paving the way to their hell," Optimus said sourly, but he relented. "I will see to his punishment myself."
Ratchet wasn't certain that was much of an improvement. He knew personally that Optimus's disappointment could be worse than any physical punishment, particularly since he'd felt it quite keenly just a few days ago himself. Prime hadn't outright accused Ratchet of lying about Sam's injury; he hadn't needed to. Unlike the others, however, Ratchet wasn't one to bend under the weight of Optimus expectations. If he wanted the truth about that, he'd have to get it from Sam himself because Ratchet wasn't about to betray what little confidence the boy had given him. As medical officer, he was oath bound to respect his patients privacy unless it would cause critical danger to themselves or others and no amount Optimus's disapproval would make him break that vow.
"Are you adding to the reprimand Sunstreaker already had for unauthorized firewall usage?" Despite Ratchet's deep scans into Sunstreaker's databanks (and Sunstreaker's subsequent tantrum over it), he hadn't discovered any real reason for him to be hiding behind that complicated of a firewall. He suspected that Sunstreaker simply hated allowing anyone that kind of control over him, even a medical officer. If it hadn't been both a security and medical requirement, Ratchet would have been happy to allow it. It wasn't like he particularly wanted to prod through Sunstreaker's thoughts. He could be unpleasant enough simply with his vocal processors.
"Sunstreaker disobeyed orders by leaving base without permission, disabled several high functioning security sensors to do so, and broke the limitations imposed on him by his last transgression and in doing so, he also saved Sam's and possibly Sideswipe's lives. I'm inclined to be forgiving for this incident. When they are off-duty they will be confined to their quarters."
"Together?" Ratchet said, surprised.
"They are being punished, not tortured. Two weeks apart while they are still adjusting to resuming intimacy would be excessively cruel."
True enough, blast and damn Sideswipe for giving in to Sunstreaker again, anyway. That was the only possibility that seemed remotely likely, their past interactions making it highly implausible that Sideswipe had initiated anything. Ratchet ran a quick probability calculation and was unsurprised when it indicated that his request for Sideswipe to assist Sam and Bumblebee had likely been the catalyst for their renewed intimacy. How very appropriate that the cause could be laid right back at Ratchet's feet. It was only what he deserved for getting involved in that to begin with. Repairs, he reminded himself. There was a reason he stuck with repairs.
"Sam should be fine with Bumblebee tonight," Ratchet decided. "I think both of them could use a little time together. After the emotional strain of tonight, he can wait to hear about any further reprimand."
Not that Sam was theirs to reprimand or command but Ratchet suspected he would accept any punishment as his due. He wasn't a soldier but he had a strong sense of honor. His reaction to the twins being disciplined because of him was both remarkable and amusing, as far as Ratchet was concerned.
Bumblebee had been distraught when the reports had come in, even more than Ratchet would have expected, and furious that they would leave him behind. That was a possible concern right there. Receptors aside, Bee had bonded to the boy much deeper than Ratchet would have thought possible in such a short amount of time.
This was quickly becoming a first-rate headache and not for the first time Ratchet wished he'd just told Bumblebee to leave the boy alone. He could have made it an order and Bumblebee could have sulked about it and moved on, and the entirety of this could have been completely avoided. Ratchet wasn't going to indulge in his own sulking about that, though; if wishes were paramount to Primus, there never would have been a war.
"I'll speak to Sam again in the morning," Ratchet said, considering what punishment would be suitable for a young human. Unpleasant without being unreasonable and he needed to discuss Mikaela's due reprimand with Prowl--
"No, you will not."
That caught Ratchet off-guard. "You're the one who wanted me to deal with him," Ratchet pointed out. "Something about him forming a parent-like attachment to me due to the traumas of the past few weeks." That was another unexpected development but not one Ratchet could deny. After all, it wasn't Optimus that Sam went to with his problems.
"I did," Optimus agreed. "And I do. However, you will be in recharge tomorrow morning and I don't expect you to resume your duties until the afternoon." His tone brooked no argument.
Outraged, Ratchet glared at his commander, ignoring the fact that he'd come to his quarters for just that reason. "I am perfectly capable of deciding when I need to recharge-"
"You haven't recharged in two days," Optimus said, unruffled by Ratchet's temper. "You’ve been assisting the humans, modifying fuel capacitors that will allow us to convert solar energy more efficiently into energon, dealing with Sam and Bumblebee, as well as Sunstreaker, running routine repairs and maintenance…did I leave anything out?"
He had, but Ratchet wasn't about to provide him with his full schedule. "How many hours of recharge have you gotten, Sir?" Ratchet snapped out.
"More than you." He didn't offer any hard data, which told Ratchet it wasn't much more. "I can make it an order, if that would be preferable. As your commanding officer, since apparently I'm not allowed to coax you as a lover."
The implication of that statement startled Ratchet out of what had been growing into a full on outburst. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Since we aren't involved in an ongoing relationship. Those were your words," Optimus reminded him.
Ratchet looked at him in disbelief. "You cannot possibly be upset about that."
"No?" There was the lightest of touches against his arm, Optimus's much larger hand easily circling his wrist before stroking down close to his fingertips where the sensors were at their most sensitive.
For a long moment, Ratchet was too shocked say a word. This was very unexpected. He and Optimus had been casually intimate for some short amount of time, what little time they even had. Ratchet had always considered it more of a convenience than an actual bond. Optimus's sparkmate Elita had been dead for some time even in their terms and when the temptation and opportunity had been there, Ratchet had taken it and why not? Optimus was attractive, they were both alone.
::Alone, so alone, alone Wheeljack::
Ratchet ruthlessly repressed that subconscious little trill in his processors. He'd given in to the urge to couple with Optimus during a moment of grieving temptation but there had been no reason not to, if for the stress relief alone.
First Sam and Bumblebee, then Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, and now this? Was there something in the atmosphere of this planet that caused beings to crave pair bondings? What next, would Ironhide be courting Lennox?
Uncharacteristically hesitant in choosing his words, this time Ratchet didn't withdraw from the light touch. "Optimus, I'm bonded to Wheeljack."
As though either of them needed a reminder.
"And yet, you told me yourself that you had given up on him being alive." No accusation, only that same, gentle tone, coupled with his stroking touch along delicate sensors. It wasn't precisely pleasurable but the faint tingle it gave him deep in his receptors made him long for something he couldn't express.
No.
They didn't have time for this, not now.
"Could we stay on the subject at hand?" Ratchet said, a little impatiently.
"Of course." Optimus withdrew his hand and Ratchet relaxed, just a little. "We were discussing your need to recharge."
"Are you making it an order?" Ratchet asked warily, eying his Prime. But Optimus seemed neither upset nor even particularly concerned. As ever, he exuded only a calm that Ratchet envied on rare occasions, a deep personal reserve of strength and whether that was innate or a result of his leadership matrix was something Ratchet had never been able to discern.
"Do I need to?" Optimus countered.
"No," Ratchet grumbled and once again, reordered his schedule. He did make Optimus's knee joint replacement paramount on his list for tomorrow. Let Sam stew a little longer in his own guilt. Without waiting for a response, Ratchet lifted the large door of his quarters and crawled inside. Standing back up on his aching struts didn't seem worth the preservation of dignity at this point.
Settling in comfortably, Ratchet turned back to regard Optimus, who was still sitting just outside the door and with more hesitance than he would have normally felt, Ratchet asked, "Are you coming?"
"If I do, I doubt you'll get very much time to recharge." He must be in a better mood if he was willing to flirt.
"Your choice."
The door closing seemed to be his final response and Ratchet shrugged it off, powering off his optics as he ran through a basic pre-recharge diagnostic.
Rest well, so very softly, only a faintest brush of connection that Ratchet might have ignored if not for the tenderness obvious in it.
Take your own advice, he shot back, and it was to the sound of Optimus's soft laughter that he slipped fully into recharge, too tired for even his subconscious processors to trouble him with flashes of memory. Instead, they joined him in deep recharge and let the world outside his darkened quarters go on without him, for just a little while.
-finis-
Read Next Chapter
By Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Bumblebee/Sam, Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, Optimus/Ratchet, Mikaela/Prowl
Summary: A continuation of the ‘human’ series, which are in order:
Forms of Life
Too Human
Experiments in Human Nature
Public Education
Knee-Jerk Reaction
Nervous System Hypothesis
Different Applications of Moral Support
This Body Electric
The Unconscious Mind
Subliminal Messages
Greeks Bearing Gifts
In a Dark Ruby Stain
Interruptions in the Key of C
Half to Rise, Half to Fall
Moments of Forgiveness
Topics of Conversation
Lies of Omission
The Theory of Existence
Beyond My Brave Facade
Parental Interaction In The Third Degree
Field Trips Into the Hypothetical
Arrested Developments of the Heart
Also the AU Attention Getting Device
Note: When I started working on this again, it was fully with the intention to just finish the series so that it wouldn't be left incomplete. Going on and on wasn't quite what I'd had in mind, but hey, I won't complain. If the secondary characters want their time to shine, I can work with that. :)
~~*~~
Ratchet had never pretended to be an expert on organics, human or otherwise, but if there was one thing he had noted in their short time on Earth, it was that humans and Autobots did have one thing in common when it came to their personal relationships; both species could be incredibly stupid about it.
So while he had no trepidation about leaving Sam with Bumblebee, he did linger close enough to monitor them until he was certain that neither of them was going to indulge in any possible idiocy. Sam might have gotten his quota in for the day but there was always a chance that Bumblebee would ruin any opportunity Ratchet had to get some rest tonight with a little bonus stupidity.
He didn’t listen to their actual conversation, but he did track Sam's physical status, only easing back when his heartbeat resumed its normal cadence. Ratchet took that as a sign that Bumblebee was in a forgiving mood and left them to it, driving off in the direction of his own quarters. It had been some time since he'd been to them and he made yet another reminder to himself to have them moved closer to the infirmary. It was one of the reasons he usually recharged in his office rather than his quarters, since he disliked being so far away from his patients.
An incoming transmission from Optimus caught his attention and Ratchet allowed it, a little surprised. They must not have wasted any time in returning to Autobot City. --Optimus?--
--Can you meet me at the infirmary?--
--Did they fight you?-- Ratchet demanded, more shocked than perhaps he should have been. Sunstreaker lashing out wouldn't have unrealistic and in the heat of the moment, it was entirely possible that Sideswipe would have sided with his brother. It wouldn't have been the first time that a spark twin was abruptly dragged along by a sibling's unexpectedly strong emotions before their processors overwrote it with their own.
--Not at all--, Optimus replied and Ratchet relaxed before he'd even had time to realize he'd tensed. He was, frankly, exhausted and just the thought of spending hours in surgery repairing damage over such idiocy made his optics ache in sympathetic pain. Ruthlessly, he suppressed it. There was no time for this, not if the Decepticons were capable of sending the sort of virus that had nearly killed Bumblebee over Earth's networks. The entire planet needed new security programming and they needed it quickly, but adapting Cybertronian technology wasn't nearly as difficult as convincing the humans to use it.
Not for the first time, Ratchet was very grateful that the politics were Optimus's arena. He was content to work behind the scenes.
--I need to speak with you--, Optimus sent, --face to face, if you don't mind. --
It seemed that tonight was a night for surprises. Ratchet had no idea what Prime might wish to talk to him about that couldn't be discussed on a private channel. Now that Jazz was gone, Ironhide was second in command. Ratchet was singularly uninterested in military advancement, particularly since he was only the lead medical officer because he was currently the only medical officer. That was, when he wasn't trying to play counselor to beings who couldn't find their waste disposal units with both hands, he thought sourly.
--Fine--, he replied, not bothering to hide his irritation. --But meet me at my quarters. Sam and Bumblebee are currently at the infirmary and I'd rather not interrupt them.--
Optimus confirmed and shut down the connection just as Ratchet pulled up to the door of his quarters. He didn't go in, only transformed and stretched out his large frame, groaning a little in relief. Human vehicles were so confining that it felt good to stand, stretching out struts and hydraulics that had to compress tightly to fit in his current alternate form.
He gave his quarters speculative consideration before deciding to remain outside for the moment. There was very little room in his personal quarters for him to even stand fully upright, much less stretch. To a human, they probably seemed expansive but the only way he and Optimus would both fit was if Ratchet sat in his lap, hardly the most dignified of positions, or in their vehicle mode which would defeat his desire to stretch out his joints. Not that he was protesting; Ratchet hadn't had personal quarters since they'd left Cybertron and his infirmary was more than spacious enough at the moment to accommodate his other needs.
Instead, he settled on the ground with a hiss of static as the struts in his feet sent up protests to his main pain processors. Too many hours standing in one position and were he any other mech, he'd be on the receiving end of his own lectures. A quick diagnostic told him there was only superficial damage; a few hours of recharge and his internal systems would recalibrate them. Barring any other emergencies, that was; stupidity obviously transcended species, and Ratchet was in no mood for anything else to happen tonight. He was exhausted, and that was the only reason he'd bothered to come to his own quarters; he'd be less likely to have his recharge interrupted. The way he felt now there could be a full-fledged attack from a fleet of Decepticons and the heat of his anger would probably destroy half of them mid-flight.
He'd barely settled to sit on the ground when Optimus turned the corner, braking gently next to him before he transformed, settling to sit next to Ratchet. He was close enough that their legs brushed slightly and Ratchet drew back, moving enough to give the larger Autobot more room. The slight frown Optimus gave him for it he ignored. Sometimes he suspected Optimus was picking up a few too many human habits; much as he enjoyed the humans, and Sam in particular amused him for all his young foolishness, they were still alien to him. He liked them, but touching so often outside of a directed pleasurable interface was not an Autobot trait. As far as Ratchet was concerned, all he got out of it was scratched paint that used up too much precious energy in repairs.
Whatever Optimus thought of Ratchet's reticence, he didn't comment, only raised a privacy shield around them, the faint hum of it registering low on Ratchet's auditory scanner.
"How is he?" Optimus asked him finally and Ratchet hardly needed to ask who.
"Physically? He's a little bruised. And exhausted." Ratchet had been very thorough in his scans of Sam while he'd had him. "His systems still aren't fully recovered from the viral attack and they are also adapting to the presence of his receptors, but that's no cause for concern. Mentally? I couldn't begin to conjecture."
Optimus frowned. "You didn't speak to him?"
"Of course I did, have you ever known me to give the silent treatment?" Ratchet said irritably. "Given his state of mind at the time, it seemed best to stick close to his expectations of me. I lectured him for sneaking out of the city and left him with Bumblebee…his receptors are nearly at full charge, which means he engaged in some form of sexual interaction with either Sideswipe or Sunstreaker. Probably Sideswipe." Since Sideswipe had been helping Bee and Sam before and he highly doubted either of them would allow Sunstreaker any privileges. Not after Sam had come to him with the a broken arm and the smell of both twins all over him. It was a good thing Ratchet had quickly dispersed that scent as he'd treated Sam's arm or any attempts at concealing what had happened would have been useless.
"I can't be certain how Sam is going to react to that intimacy," Ratchet added, studying his own hands. He spread his fingers to their full capacity and inspected each tool carefully. Ironhide and many of the others might be able to carry on with minor injuries until their internal repairs systems took care of them but a medical officer had no such luxury. The difference between a live comrade and a dead one could be depended on all his apparatuses being in perfect condition.
A quick scan confirmed that his tools were in flawless order and Ratchet let them all slide back into their compartments before he gave Prime a narrow look. "So long as I have you still, let me look at that knee joint." No one else would have noticed Optimus had been favoring his left leg the past day and Ratchet would prefer to repair any superficial damage before it became significant enough that the others did notice. Due to constant movement joint damage could quickly become critical and Ratchet doubted he could get Optimus to keep still long enough for his own systems to repair the damage.
"That isn't why I came to speak with you," Optimus reminded him, but he shifted enough for Ratchet to inspect the joint, releasing the armor catches and setting the plates aside so that he could examine the inner workings.
"Then you should have considered that before you asked to see me up close and personal," he retorted. If Optimus wanted to touch, he would at least make that touch useful.
But he knew himself well enough to know when he was trying to avoid answering a question and he also knew Prime would wait patiently until he did. Still, he took the time to clean the grit away from the hydraulics, grimacing at the amount of dirt that had worked its way into the inner gears. No wonder the humans called this planet Earth, the corrosive substance managed to get into everything.
Optimus said nothing, only twitched very slightly when Ratchet brushed against sensitive circuitry. "Sorry," he murmured, but he didn't offer to offline Optimus's pain receptors. Ratchet could see at least two gears were nearly stripped which meant Optimus should have come to see him days ago. Let him suffer a little. He did what he could with his field tools and took a moment to rearrange his schedule for the next day so that Optimus could come in for a full repair. They might not have access to a full medical bay loaded with spare parts but at the very least Ratchet could configure essential gears and cabling.
"I suspect there will be some repercussions," Ratchet admitted at last, settling the armoring back into place. "Humans are very selective about their mating practices. I'm hoping Bumblebee will soothe some of his concerns."
"I'm sure he will," Optimus said. "He cares for Sam a great deal."
"I know," Ratchet murmured and if Optimus either heard or sensed his concern about that, he didn't indicate it. Ratchet decided he had had quite enough of this topic for the day. What would happen, would happen; those two had been foremost in his processors for long enough. He really was not a counselor. "Where are the twins?"
"With Ironhide in the large hanger. We don't have anything in the way of solitary confinement at the moment."
No, they didn't. With so few of them on Earth, a detention block had seemed ridiculous. Decepticons were destroyed, not taken prisoner. Let them plead defense of their actions to Primus.
Speaking of defenses, "Did either of them offer an explanation for their actions?"
"Not that they provided. Sideswipe only agreed with everything I accused and Sunstreaker said nothing at all."
There was a surprise. There were times that Ratchet had wished, fervently, that Sunstreaker had been the one to have his vocal processors ripped away. He might have taken his time repairing them. "Sunstreaker didn't say anything?"
"Not a sound or even a text file," Optimus confirmed. He seemed equally troubled by Sunstreaker's silence. "I'll speak to them again tomorrow to discuss punishment."
"Yes, I said much the same to Sam."
Optimus made a low rumbling sound of agreement, stretching out his leg to test the joint. The stripped gears would still ache in his pain processors but at least the irritating filth was cleaned away. Ratchet was going to have to, again, remind his fellow Autobots that they needed to clean out the dirt and grit daily, at least with a hard spray of water if not a full sterilization.
Optimus seemed satisfied with the basic repair, settling back before he said, softly, "You are aware that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are engaging in physical intimacy again?"
"What?" Ratchet couldn't suppress his shock. "No, I wasn't. You’re sure?"
"Oh, yes," Optimus said, heavily. "The signs were unmistakable."
"I thought Sideswipe had abandoned attempts at any sort of real relationship with his spark twin some ages ago," Ratchet said crossly. "I had no idea he was that masochistic." He'd noticed the unusual resonance in their spark signature when he'd been treating Sunstreaker for his injuries but he'd taken it as simple distress. They were meant to resonate with each other to some degree which was precisely why spark twins could be difficult to treat. When he'd gone through Sunstreaker's databanks after bypassing his firewall, he'd only been looking for signs illicit data transfer, nothing personal. Bludgeoning his way through someone else's memory was unpleasant enough without getting a secondhand dose of their experiences.
"Were it anyone else, I doubt he would be," Optimus said quietly. There was a great deal of unspoken truth to that; Optimus would know more about reactions between spark twins than Ratchet. There were something things that couldn't be properly explained in simple words or even data transfer.
Well, let Sideswipe commit his own emotional suicide. Ratchet would be there to patch of the inevitable physical results when they came. "Have you decided on their punishment yet?"
"Of course. Two weeks of double duty, apart from each other. I believe I'll assign Sunstreaker to Ironhide. Considering the damage he did to the sensor arrays, it will take him the entire time to repair them."
"I thought you were punishing the twins. What did Ironhide do to deserve another two weeks of Sunstreaker?" Ratchet said dryly. "And Sideswipe?"
"Perhaps I'll assign him to guard Ron Witwicky and give him the opportunity to explain to the man why he nearly got his son killed." More scathing than Prime would have allowed any of the others to hear him.
Ratchet would never express his disapproval about a reprimand verbally, not to his Prime, but his expression spoke for him. "I believe he only thought he was assisting Sam and Mikaela in a little youthful mischief," he said, lightly. "This level of trouble was not his intention."
The tone of the report he'd left explaining that the two of them were with him off-base certainly seemed to indicate that. Bumblebee had still wanted to chase them down but it would have been pointless without some directional indicator and by the time they'd been ready to ask Sunstreaker to track down his twin for them, he had disappeared as well. It was only when the police scanner had lit up with reports of shots fired in a small town nearby that they had been able to mobilize.
"The humans have a saying about good intentions paving the way to their hell," Optimus said sourly, but he relented. "I will see to his punishment myself."
Ratchet wasn't certain that was much of an improvement. He knew personally that Optimus's disappointment could be worse than any physical punishment, particularly since he'd felt it quite keenly just a few days ago himself. Prime hadn't outright accused Ratchet of lying about Sam's injury; he hadn't needed to. Unlike the others, however, Ratchet wasn't one to bend under the weight of Optimus expectations. If he wanted the truth about that, he'd have to get it from Sam himself because Ratchet wasn't about to betray what little confidence the boy had given him. As medical officer, he was oath bound to respect his patients privacy unless it would cause critical danger to themselves or others and no amount Optimus's disapproval would make him break that vow.
"Are you adding to the reprimand Sunstreaker already had for unauthorized firewall usage?" Despite Ratchet's deep scans into Sunstreaker's databanks (and Sunstreaker's subsequent tantrum over it), he hadn't discovered any real reason for him to be hiding behind that complicated of a firewall. He suspected that Sunstreaker simply hated allowing anyone that kind of control over him, even a medical officer. If it hadn't been both a security and medical requirement, Ratchet would have been happy to allow it. It wasn't like he particularly wanted to prod through Sunstreaker's thoughts. He could be unpleasant enough simply with his vocal processors.
"Sunstreaker disobeyed orders by leaving base without permission, disabled several high functioning security sensors to do so, and broke the limitations imposed on him by his last transgression and in doing so, he also saved Sam's and possibly Sideswipe's lives. I'm inclined to be forgiving for this incident. When they are off-duty they will be confined to their quarters."
"Together?" Ratchet said, surprised.
"They are being punished, not tortured. Two weeks apart while they are still adjusting to resuming intimacy would be excessively cruel."
True enough, blast and damn Sideswipe for giving in to Sunstreaker again, anyway. That was the only possibility that seemed remotely likely, their past interactions making it highly implausible that Sideswipe had initiated anything. Ratchet ran a quick probability calculation and was unsurprised when it indicated that his request for Sideswipe to assist Sam and Bumblebee had likely been the catalyst for their renewed intimacy. How very appropriate that the cause could be laid right back at Ratchet's feet. It was only what he deserved for getting involved in that to begin with. Repairs, he reminded himself. There was a reason he stuck with repairs.
"Sam should be fine with Bumblebee tonight," Ratchet decided. "I think both of them could use a little time together. After the emotional strain of tonight, he can wait to hear about any further reprimand."
Not that Sam was theirs to reprimand or command but Ratchet suspected he would accept any punishment as his due. He wasn't a soldier but he had a strong sense of honor. His reaction to the twins being disciplined because of him was both remarkable and amusing, as far as Ratchet was concerned.
Bumblebee had been distraught when the reports had come in, even more than Ratchet would have expected, and furious that they would leave him behind. That was a possible concern right there. Receptors aside, Bee had bonded to the boy much deeper than Ratchet would have thought possible in such a short amount of time.
This was quickly becoming a first-rate headache and not for the first time Ratchet wished he'd just told Bumblebee to leave the boy alone. He could have made it an order and Bumblebee could have sulked about it and moved on, and the entirety of this could have been completely avoided. Ratchet wasn't going to indulge in his own sulking about that, though; if wishes were paramount to Primus, there never would have been a war.
"I'll speak to Sam again in the morning," Ratchet said, considering what punishment would be suitable for a young human. Unpleasant without being unreasonable and he needed to discuss Mikaela's due reprimand with Prowl--
"No, you will not."
That caught Ratchet off-guard. "You're the one who wanted me to deal with him," Ratchet pointed out. "Something about him forming a parent-like attachment to me due to the traumas of the past few weeks." That was another unexpected development but not one Ratchet could deny. After all, it wasn't Optimus that Sam went to with his problems.
"I did," Optimus agreed. "And I do. However, you will be in recharge tomorrow morning and I don't expect you to resume your duties until the afternoon." His tone brooked no argument.
Outraged, Ratchet glared at his commander, ignoring the fact that he'd come to his quarters for just that reason. "I am perfectly capable of deciding when I need to recharge-"
"You haven't recharged in two days," Optimus said, unruffled by Ratchet's temper. "You’ve been assisting the humans, modifying fuel capacitors that will allow us to convert solar energy more efficiently into energon, dealing with Sam and Bumblebee, as well as Sunstreaker, running routine repairs and maintenance…did I leave anything out?"
He had, but Ratchet wasn't about to provide him with his full schedule. "How many hours of recharge have you gotten, Sir?" Ratchet snapped out.
"More than you." He didn't offer any hard data, which told Ratchet it wasn't much more. "I can make it an order, if that would be preferable. As your commanding officer, since apparently I'm not allowed to coax you as a lover."
The implication of that statement startled Ratchet out of what had been growing into a full on outburst. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Since we aren't involved in an ongoing relationship. Those were your words," Optimus reminded him.
Ratchet looked at him in disbelief. "You cannot possibly be upset about that."
"No?" There was the lightest of touches against his arm, Optimus's much larger hand easily circling his wrist before stroking down close to his fingertips where the sensors were at their most sensitive.
For a long moment, Ratchet was too shocked say a word. This was very unexpected. He and Optimus had been casually intimate for some short amount of time, what little time they even had. Ratchet had always considered it more of a convenience than an actual bond. Optimus's sparkmate Elita had been dead for some time even in their terms and when the temptation and opportunity had been there, Ratchet had taken it and why not? Optimus was attractive, they were both alone.
::Alone, so alone, alone Wheeljack::
Ratchet ruthlessly repressed that subconscious little trill in his processors. He'd given in to the urge to couple with Optimus during a moment of grieving temptation but there had been no reason not to, if for the stress relief alone.
First Sam and Bumblebee, then Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, and now this? Was there something in the atmosphere of this planet that caused beings to crave pair bondings? What next, would Ironhide be courting Lennox?
Uncharacteristically hesitant in choosing his words, this time Ratchet didn't withdraw from the light touch. "Optimus, I'm bonded to Wheeljack."
As though either of them needed a reminder.
"And yet, you told me yourself that you had given up on him being alive." No accusation, only that same, gentle tone, coupled with his stroking touch along delicate sensors. It wasn't precisely pleasurable but the faint tingle it gave him deep in his receptors made him long for something he couldn't express.
No.
They didn't have time for this, not now.
"Could we stay on the subject at hand?" Ratchet said, a little impatiently.
"Of course." Optimus withdrew his hand and Ratchet relaxed, just a little. "We were discussing your need to recharge."
"Are you making it an order?" Ratchet asked warily, eying his Prime. But Optimus seemed neither upset nor even particularly concerned. As ever, he exuded only a calm that Ratchet envied on rare occasions, a deep personal reserve of strength and whether that was innate or a result of his leadership matrix was something Ratchet had never been able to discern.
"Do I need to?" Optimus countered.
"No," Ratchet grumbled and once again, reordered his schedule. He did make Optimus's knee joint replacement paramount on his list for tomorrow. Let Sam stew a little longer in his own guilt. Without waiting for a response, Ratchet lifted the large door of his quarters and crawled inside. Standing back up on his aching struts didn't seem worth the preservation of dignity at this point.
Settling in comfortably, Ratchet turned back to regard Optimus, who was still sitting just outside the door and with more hesitance than he would have normally felt, Ratchet asked, "Are you coming?"
"If I do, I doubt you'll get very much time to recharge." He must be in a better mood if he was willing to flirt.
"Your choice."
The door closing seemed to be his final response and Ratchet shrugged it off, powering off his optics as he ran through a basic pre-recharge diagnostic.
Rest well, so very softly, only a faintest brush of connection that Ratchet might have ignored if not for the tenderness obvious in it.
Take your own advice, he shot back, and it was to the sound of Optimus's soft laughter that he slipped fully into recharge, too tired for even his subconscious processors to trouble him with flashes of memory. Instead, they joined him in deep recharge and let the world outside his darkened quarters go on without him, for just a little while.
-finis-
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