[FIC] Haunted
Title: Haunted (1364 words) by ren
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Ratchet & Sunstreaker & Sideswipe
Characters: Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe
Additional Tags: Graphic Description of Wounds, Nightmares, Horrors of War
Author's Note:
- Written for the twins_x_ratch October challenge.
- Challenge and be found here.
- Can be seen as a sequel to Scream It Out.
Summary:
"I am... haunted." He finally said, his voice barely a whisper.
00000000000
Stained servos grabbed at him, disfigured face-plates moaned in pain, expressions frozen in fear, anger, anguish.
Ratchet tried to pry the servos off his arms, but more and more appeared, holding him. Some optics held blame, anger, and even pity.
'Why' they moaned. 'Why couldn't you save us?'
Ratchet twisted out of the grip of a femme's servo, three fingers missing, her chest-plates melted through, energon falling in small rivers all over her frame, onto the ground, and onto him.
'Why did you let us die.'
"I tried!" Ratchet screamed in despair, dodging a legless mech's servos, outstretched out toward him, only to come face to face-plates with an optic-less mech, arm severed and a hole in his helm.
'Not good enough!' He yelled, the voice seeming to echo through the space he was in, almost like a far away muffled sound.
The medic pushed him away, turning to run into the endless darkness, the face-plates of mechs and femmes, even younglings chasing after him.
'You failed!' They wailed, both in pain and anger.
A femme appeared in front of him, stopping him mid run, she flung herself onto his frame clinging desperately, optics broken and wild.
'You made me leave my sparkling all alone in the world!' She screamed. 'Why didn't you find the leak in time!? You could have saved me!'
With a keen, Ratchet managed to push her off, optics wide and fearful.
He kept running.
"I'm sorry!" He yelled. "I'm so sorry!"
'You stole my future!' A mech yelled, throwing himself at Ratchet. 'My intended is spark-broken, alone, his world shattered! You did nothing!'
"I tried!" Ratchet yelled again, his voice begging for the bots to understand. "I tried! I really did! I'm so sorry!" He cried.
The rusting remains of a crawling seeker grabbed at his leg 'My wings!" He wailed, his back raw with energon, cables sparkling and melted. "Give me back my wings! Give me back the freedom of the skies!'
The seeker was torn off him, replaced by a mini-bot who grabbed at his chest-plates, shaking the medic roughly.
'All you had to do, was find the virus in my systems and eliminate it!' He yelled. 'Why!? Why didn't you mange something so simple!? You watched me die!'
"No! "
Strong arms surrounded him from behind, a large black frame, melted and with parts blown off tugging him backwards, until they fell into a dark, dense liquid.
'You classified me as a lost cause. You left me for dead while treating others. You didn't even spare me a glance!'
The voice seemed to be in his processor, the snarling as sharp as the claws around his neck.
"I'm sorry!" He screamed in his head, the viscous liquid entering through his mouth and seams, suffocating him. He thrashed, trying to get away but the servos around him tightened.
He realized with horror that the dark liquid he was in was energon. All around him, frames swam toward him, grabbing at him, frames rotten, falling apart, missing limbs and melted armor. They clawed at him, voices screaming in his head.
'You did nothing!'
'You left me for dead!'
'Why didn't you save me!?'
'My sparkling!'
'Murderer!'
'Give me back my future!'
'YOU FAILED!'
0000000000000000
"No!"
"Ratchet!"
"I'm sorry!" He kept trashing against the arms that held him.
"Wake up!"
"Forgive me! I tired!"
"RATCHET!"
The medic's optics onlined with a start. For a moment he felt disoriented, white noise assaulting his audios. There were two figures bent over him, but there might as well have been nothing there; his optics not registering what they saw.
As his senses slowly came to, he realized how heated his frame was; vents working over time to cool him. Pants and sobs left his vocalizer.
"Ratchet?"
He startled as a servo gently touched his shoulder. Rebooting his optics, the medic looked up into the concerned face-plates of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.
"Wh- what happened?" He asked lamely, still disoriented. "Where-?"
"You were having a memory purge." Sunstreaker said, voice tight.
Shaking, Ratchet sat up, and looked around his room. It was dark, the twins sitting on the edge of his berth, servo outstretched toward him, almost afraid to touch him now that he was awake.
The medic let out a shaky sigh. It had happened again. Every time he lost someone, they would come back to remind him of his failures. He could still hear their pained wails, their accusations. They surrounded him like a veil, always present, always watching.
"Ratchet, what happened?"
Startled again, the medic adverted his optics from the pair.
"Ratch'?"
How could he tell them? Would they even believe such a tale?
"I am... haunted." He finally said, his voice barely a whisper.
There was a pause following his statement.
"Haunted?"
"Yes, haunted!" he screamed glaring at the twins. "The spirits of all the patients I've lost haunt me. They're my companions in the solitude of my dreams and sometimes when I'm awake. Every time I fall into recharge, they remind me of my failures." He said, voice heavy with grief. Grief, the twins realized, that Ratchet truly believed he had failed, that he deserved to have his recharge haunted by the dead sparks of those he didn't manage to save.
"Ratchet, it was never your fault. You always try." Sideswipe whispered.
"Well it's not enough, is it!?" The medic snarled, whipping his head to glare at the red twin; the words of the femme still echoing in his processor.
The room was silent for a few moments. The twins meeting Ratchet's glare with ease.
Slowly, Sideswipe reached for him. At first, the medic jerked back, but having nowhere to go, he finally leaned into the touch.
The red twin climbed fully onto the berth, laying next to the medic, back against the wall. Sunstreaker laid down as well, pulling the medic into his arms while Sideswipe draped his own over both mechs.
"Ratchet, " Called the red twin. "Do you regret saving us? Every time we get hurt?"
The medic looked at him with wide optics. "What!? No! Of course not why would you-"
"Do you regret saving Prime? Ironhide? Jazz, every time he comes back from an undercover mission?" Sunstreaker added.
"No! What-"
"Do you regret the lives of all the mechs and femmes you have managed to save?"
"No!"
"Then stop blaming yourself doc." Sideswipe said with a small smile. "This is war. Some bots will die, but every spark currently pulsing is all thanks to you."
Ratchet opened his mouth to say something, but the yellow twin caught him off.
"These spirits of yours. They haunt you only because you truly believe you failed them. You didn't. You've saved their friends, their family. You gave everything you had to save them as well. Let yourself be happy for those bots you managed to bring back."
The white and red mech fell silent.
"We're at war, Ratchet." Sideswipe continued. "Bots will die whether on your table or out there on the battlefield. It's inevitable. There are wounds that you won't be able to heal, bots that will reach you already gone."
"It's not your fault. Are you the one that shot at them? Did you blow them up? Cut them? Torture them-"
"Enough." Ratchet pleaded, burying his head into Sunstreaker's neck. "I- I know. I know!" He said shaking.
Ratchet believed in what the twins told him. But when the spirits came back to haunt him, every small detail was suddenly clear, and he saw what he could have done better, what was wrong, how he could have saved just one more bot.
"Concentrate on the living Ratchet. They are your greatest achievement." Sideswipe said, cutting through his thoughts.
Ratchet mulled over these words, finding comfort in them. He had failed to save many, but had managed to save even more. The medic sighed. "How come you two always know what to say?" He asked, the voices of his spirits suddenly seeming farther away than they had ever been.
The twins smirked. "Cause we're always right."
Ratchet snorted, before another thought occurred to him.
"How the frag did you get into my quarters?"
The smirks fell right off.
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Meeeh not really happy with this, was way more awesome in my mind. Might come back later to edit this..
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Ratchet & Sunstreaker & Sideswipe
Characters: Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe
Additional Tags: Graphic Description of Wounds, Nightmares, Horrors of War
Author's Note:
- Written for the twins_x_ratch October challenge.
- Challenge and be found here.
- Can be seen as a sequel to Scream It Out.
Summary:
"I am... haunted." He finally said, his voice barely a whisper.
00000000000
Stained servos grabbed at him, disfigured face-plates moaned in pain, expressions frozen in fear, anger, anguish.
Ratchet tried to pry the servos off his arms, but more and more appeared, holding him. Some optics held blame, anger, and even pity.
'Why' they moaned. 'Why couldn't you save us?'
Ratchet twisted out of the grip of a femme's servo, three fingers missing, her chest-plates melted through, energon falling in small rivers all over her frame, onto the ground, and onto him.
'Why did you let us die.'
"I tried!" Ratchet screamed in despair, dodging a legless mech's servos, outstretched out toward him, only to come face to face-plates with an optic-less mech, arm severed and a hole in his helm.
'Not good enough!' He yelled, the voice seeming to echo through the space he was in, almost like a far away muffled sound.
The medic pushed him away, turning to run into the endless darkness, the face-plates of mechs and femmes, even younglings chasing after him.
'You failed!' They wailed, both in pain and anger.
A femme appeared in front of him, stopping him mid run, she flung herself onto his frame clinging desperately, optics broken and wild.
'You made me leave my sparkling all alone in the world!' She screamed. 'Why didn't you find the leak in time!? You could have saved me!'
With a keen, Ratchet managed to push her off, optics wide and fearful.
He kept running.
"I'm sorry!" He yelled. "I'm so sorry!"
'You stole my future!' A mech yelled, throwing himself at Ratchet. 'My intended is spark-broken, alone, his world shattered! You did nothing!'
"I tried!" Ratchet yelled again, his voice begging for the bots to understand. "I tried! I really did! I'm so sorry!" He cried.
The rusting remains of a crawling seeker grabbed at his leg 'My wings!" He wailed, his back raw with energon, cables sparkling and melted. "Give me back my wings! Give me back the freedom of the skies!'
The seeker was torn off him, replaced by a mini-bot who grabbed at his chest-plates, shaking the medic roughly.
'All you had to do, was find the virus in my systems and eliminate it!' He yelled. 'Why!? Why didn't you mange something so simple!? You watched me die!'
"No! "
Strong arms surrounded him from behind, a large black frame, melted and with parts blown off tugging him backwards, until they fell into a dark, dense liquid.
'You classified me as a lost cause. You left me for dead while treating others. You didn't even spare me a glance!'
The voice seemed to be in his processor, the snarling as sharp as the claws around his neck.
"I'm sorry!" He screamed in his head, the viscous liquid entering through his mouth and seams, suffocating him. He thrashed, trying to get away but the servos around him tightened.
He realized with horror that the dark liquid he was in was energon. All around him, frames swam toward him, grabbing at him, frames rotten, falling apart, missing limbs and melted armor. They clawed at him, voices screaming in his head.
'You did nothing!'
'You left me for dead!'
'Why didn't you save me!?'
'My sparkling!'
'Murderer!'
'Give me back my future!'
'YOU FAILED!'
0000000000000000
"No!"
"Ratchet!"
"I'm sorry!" He kept trashing against the arms that held him.
"Wake up!"
"Forgive me! I tired!"
"RATCHET!"
The medic's optics onlined with a start. For a moment he felt disoriented, white noise assaulting his audios. There were two figures bent over him, but there might as well have been nothing there; his optics not registering what they saw.
As his senses slowly came to, he realized how heated his frame was; vents working over time to cool him. Pants and sobs left his vocalizer.
"Ratchet?"
He startled as a servo gently touched his shoulder. Rebooting his optics, the medic looked up into the concerned face-plates of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.
"Wh- what happened?" He asked lamely, still disoriented. "Where-?"
"You were having a memory purge." Sunstreaker said, voice tight.
Shaking, Ratchet sat up, and looked around his room. It was dark, the twins sitting on the edge of his berth, servo outstretched toward him, almost afraid to touch him now that he was awake.
The medic let out a shaky sigh. It had happened again. Every time he lost someone, they would come back to remind him of his failures. He could still hear their pained wails, their accusations. They surrounded him like a veil, always present, always watching.
"Ratchet, what happened?"
Startled again, the medic adverted his optics from the pair.
"Ratch'?"
How could he tell them? Would they even believe such a tale?
"I am... haunted." He finally said, his voice barely a whisper.
There was a pause following his statement.
"Haunted?"
"Yes, haunted!" he screamed glaring at the twins. "The spirits of all the patients I've lost haunt me. They're my companions in the solitude of my dreams and sometimes when I'm awake. Every time I fall into recharge, they remind me of my failures." He said, voice heavy with grief. Grief, the twins realized, that Ratchet truly believed he had failed, that he deserved to have his recharge haunted by the dead sparks of those he didn't manage to save.
"Ratchet, it was never your fault. You always try." Sideswipe whispered.
"Well it's not enough, is it!?" The medic snarled, whipping his head to glare at the red twin; the words of the femme still echoing in his processor.
The room was silent for a few moments. The twins meeting Ratchet's glare with ease.
Slowly, Sideswipe reached for him. At first, the medic jerked back, but having nowhere to go, he finally leaned into the touch.
The red twin climbed fully onto the berth, laying next to the medic, back against the wall. Sunstreaker laid down as well, pulling the medic into his arms while Sideswipe draped his own over both mechs.
"Ratchet, " Called the red twin. "Do you regret saving us? Every time we get hurt?"
The medic looked at him with wide optics. "What!? No! Of course not why would you-"
"Do you regret saving Prime? Ironhide? Jazz, every time he comes back from an undercover mission?" Sunstreaker added.
"No! What-"
"Do you regret the lives of all the mechs and femmes you have managed to save?"
"No!"
"Then stop blaming yourself doc." Sideswipe said with a small smile. "This is war. Some bots will die, but every spark currently pulsing is all thanks to you."
Ratchet opened his mouth to say something, but the yellow twin caught him off.
"These spirits of yours. They haunt you only because you truly believe you failed them. You didn't. You've saved their friends, their family. You gave everything you had to save them as well. Let yourself be happy for those bots you managed to bring back."
The white and red mech fell silent.
"We're at war, Ratchet." Sideswipe continued. "Bots will die whether on your table or out there on the battlefield. It's inevitable. There are wounds that you won't be able to heal, bots that will reach you already gone."
"It's not your fault. Are you the one that shot at them? Did you blow them up? Cut them? Torture them-"
"Enough." Ratchet pleaded, burying his head into Sunstreaker's neck. "I- I know. I know!" He said shaking.
Ratchet believed in what the twins told him. But when the spirits came back to haunt him, every small detail was suddenly clear, and he saw what he could have done better, what was wrong, how he could have saved just one more bot.
"Concentrate on the living Ratchet. They are your greatest achievement." Sideswipe said, cutting through his thoughts.
Ratchet mulled over these words, finding comfort in them. He had failed to save many, but had managed to save even more. The medic sighed. "How come you two always know what to say?" He asked, the voices of his spirits suddenly seeming farther away than they had ever been.
The twins smirked. "Cause we're always right."
Ratchet snorted, before another thought occurred to him.
"How the frag did you get into my quarters?"
The smirks fell right off.
0000000000
Meeeh not really happy with this, was way more awesome in my mind. Might come back later to edit this..