[FIC] The Most Unexpected Courting - Part II
Title: The Most Unexpected Courting
Fandom: AU Dragonformers with mainly G1 colorations but with a twist of Bayverse
Pairing/Characters: RatchetxTwins as the main pairing, loads of other G1 characters and some minor pairings
Rating: T
Word Count: 9039, all in all over 30 000
Summary/Warnings: As one of the oldest dragons in his clan, Ratchet has seen almost everything but when he's rescued from an unwanted claiming by a pair of clan-less dragons, he's faced with a whole new problem. Violence, cussing
Disclaimer:Transformers belong to Hasbro/Takara, the idea of dragonformers belong to various other people, the first ones appearing at least in 2007. I can only claim this plot as mine.
AN: Like I stated in the disclaimer, the oldest fanfictions with Dragonformers I personally found can be found here in under the username Okami-chan, posted between 2007-2008. From LJ there are writers and artists such as zjargon, renegadewriter8, chimeradark, xobit_prime, who can also be found as Xobit from DA along these artists & writers: Jazz-the-tiger, AutobotV and Murr-miay. New authors & artists has come since I wrote this fic but these were the ones who had the main influence on my muse.
Big thank-you goes to fuzipenguin for being my beta.
- Senna-chan
Units of time used in the story:
breem = 8.3 minutes
groon = ~1 hour
joor = 6 hours
nanoklik (Animated)= ~1 second
solar cycle = day
dark cycle = night
lunar cycle = little more than a month
vorn = 83 years
stellar cycle= year
”Normal talking”
Thinking
::Bonds::
PART II: The Wooing Begins
Ratchet roused from recharge early the next solar cycle, a habit no injury could thwart. Feeling much better and a cursory check confirmed both the self-repairing nanites and rest had done their duty; there were no visible marks on the scale plating. Only thing Ratchet was suffering was low energy levels, which needed to be corrected soon.
Stepping out of his spacious, two chambered cave, Ratchet moved quietly down the mountain. It was still too early for others to be up with the exception of those on guard duty.
Mirage and Hound stood side by side near the platform, the pair greeting Ratchet with respectful nods. The healer nodded back, smirking slightly at the closeness between the slender white and blue dragon and the bulkier green and grey one. He had to wonder when they would fly away to put an end to their little dance. Knowing Mirage, he would make the tracker-hunter work his aft off no matter which one initiated the domination fight.
When Ratchet reached the lower parts of the mountain, he stepped into the crystal forest, walking the well-used path to the small river of rust-fluid. Normally all flying dragons avoided the reddish-brown liquid but an occasional dip and good, thorough crystal sand bath afterwards did wonders to dragon’s scales. A simple relaxation Ratchet craved right now. Sighing in pleasure, the white dragon waded into the river, using his tail to splash the liquid all over his sides before rolling around to wet his wings, too. The warm fluid made his plating tingle pleasantly, getting rid of any lingering smells of the Windseeker and energon.
After a half a groon or so Ratchet climbed back to the river bank, drops of rust fluid dribbling down his red and white plates. Shaking his frame, Ratchet beat his wings twice to get rid of any liquid within the folded membrane, before heading for the next part of his self-ordered pampering: a nice, long sand bath.
Over the centuries, several generations of dragons had shaped the very ground itself into a large, shallow pit close to the river. The area around the pit had been molded to allow even Optimus to roll freely in the sparkling crystal dust, which meant Ratchet had more than enough space to sprawl as much as he pleased. Since there was no natural source for the crystal sand to form itself, the task of refilling the pit fell to the clan, and by Optimus’ orders it was done every third lunar cycle.
Five to six breems later, when Ratchet shook the last of the sparkling crystal sand off, he almost felt like a newborn hatchling. Or more like a youngling, he thought wryly. I’m too old to even remember how to be a hatchling anymore.
Beating his wings a few times, the healer rose in the air, using the thermal winds to lift his chassis higher, ignoring the watchful gazes of the Autobots down below. Once the white dragon had reached enough height, Ratchet turned towards the south end of the mountain range, leaving the nesting mountain to hunt. He could have asked for his share from the hunt the cycle ago but Ratchet needed to prove both to the clan and himself that he was fine again.
That, or snap at the next one who’d ask if he was alright, be it the Prime or Bumblebee, Ratchet didn’t care.
It was a beautiful morning and Ratchet didn’t have to fly far before spotting a small heard of technogoats balancing nimbly on one of the high mountains. A quick and silent swoop down with a lightning fast strike, and the white dragon caught a mature technogoat in his claws. Silencing the panicking mechanimal with a swift bite, Ratchet climbed higher to reach the large cliff the healer preferred to use when hunting in this part of the clan’s territory.
The big ledge looked like some big beast had gouged a piece straight out of the mountain side, leaving behind enough space for at least five dragons of the healer’s size. Ratchet landed carefully on the edge, the picking the spot where the morning sun shone the brightest. Settling down, the white healer licked his teeth, the scent of energon in his olfactory sensors only increasing the hunger.
Ratchet had the time to take only one bite, when there were shadows above the healer and the ground shook slightly as another dragon landed on the cliff.
Snarling out of instinct, Ratchet spun around to give a piece of his mind to the dragon and ready to protect the kill if necessary. However, Ratchet’s intentions came into a processor-screeching halt, when a large, freshly killed turbobison was dropped right in front of him, followed by a relatively smaller, electrogazelle. Blinking, the befuddled healer raised his optics to see a grinning Sideswipe and a frowning Sunstreaker.
“Morning, Ratchet,” Sideswipe greeted cheerfully, looking mighty pleased with himself as he rested one black paw on the dead turbobison, “your clan has good hunting grounds. We haven’t had this kind of prey in lunar cycles.”
“Really now,” Ratchet commented warily, inwardly impressed at the two dragons’ hunting success.
One needed to be fast and agile to catch a technogazelle, as the lithe mechanimal used unpredictable zigzag patterns to escape from any hunters. In whole clan there were only three dragons that outmatched technogazelles, when it came to speed and agility: Jazz, Mirage and Blurr, the latter having left the clan with a small group of specifically selected Autobots vorns ago.
When it came to turbobisons, the hunting strategy was the opposite. A good hunting partner was the key element, especially when bringing down a turbobison as big as the brothers had caught. It wasn’t an easy task to separate a turbobison from a herd, and the brutal strength and fierce nature the large mechanimals possessed was often more than one dragon could handle alone.
Ratchet shook his wings, conscious of his own catch next to the brothers’. A technogoat might be a good snack for one adult dragon but nowhere near as energy rich as the younger dragons’ catches for various reasons. The white dragon could almost feel his previous good mood start to diminish as he kept staring at the dead mechanimals.
Still, Sideswipe seemed content with the healer’s response; the red dragon cocked his helm as he took a look at what Ratchet had caught. “I see you had some luck, too, but isn’t one technogoat too little for a still healing dragon like you?” Sideswipe asked politely, which was somewhat ruined by the snort that came from his brother.
“Or perhaps you need your clan do the hunting for you?” Sunstreaker sneered, somehow managing a look that was a combination of smugness and amusement. Without losing the scowl.
Temper caused the grey dorsal spikes to flare and Ratchet pinned the yellow dragon with a hard glare. “Don’t make me give you that lesson, pup,” he growled, shoulders squaring even as the red and white wings rustled in annoyance. “You may have won over idiot Decepticon but your luck might turn any solar cycle.”
“Is that a challenge?” Sunstreaker hissed as his optics lit with indescribable emotions.
Sideswipe, once again, came to stand between them, glaring quite furiously at his brother. Spreading the big red wings wide enough for one of them to cover Ratchet, Sideswipe released a low, vibrating growl deep from his chassis even as his tail swung dangerously. Sunstreaker hissed back, widening his stance as he accepted the challenge. The brothers measured each other, asserting their hierarchy with flared dorsal spikes, puffed out scales and low resonating growls. It was a very dangerous situation to be caught in that was certain. Ratchet made sure not to trigger the two aggressive dragon mechs, even as he followed their interaction with keen interest.
After three tense breems Sunstreaker huffed, breaking the stare to glower down at the dead technogazelle at his feet. Sideswipe relaxed straightaway and returned his attention back to Ratchet, who continued to stay still.
The white healer was once again reminded that the brothers were seasoned fighters, who together could rip Ratchet into shreds if they decided to do so. One against one he might have had the chance, Ratchet was sure of that but wasn’t ready to test it. For that the healer secretly glad that Sideswipe had gained the upper paw of this match. Although it only proved his earlier thoughts that Sideswipe was the more dangerous one of the pair, which truthfully didn’t make Ratchet feel any better.
“We were on our way back, when we noticed you and wondered if you’d like to share our catch with us,” Sideswipe explained with a light tone and a twinkle in his optics that was a complete opposite to the dominating dragon mech he had been a nanoklik ago.
Red and white wings twitched at the unexpected offer. “Why would you want to do that?” Ratchet asked instead, both curious and wary as he took another look at the dead mechanimals just within his reach.
Sharing a kill like this wasn’t common even among the Autobots and behavior like that was usually reserved for courting. This made Ratchet even more cautious, remembering all too well what the red brother had asked him right before Optimus and the others had arrived.
They couldn’t be… could they?
“Come on, we saw how low on energy you were last cycle and I bet you fell straight into recharge without taking a bite of something,” Sideswipe pleaded with a small whine even as Sunstreaker’s optics lifted from the ground to meet the healer's, the intensity in them confirming that he shared his brother’s opinion. “Besides this is too much for just the two of us and I don’t think we should leave what we can’t eat just laying around so that some cyberwolves may find the way to your caves.”
“You could always share it with the clan,” Ratchet suggested, still bit hesitant to take the offer.
“Not a slagging chance,” the yellow dragon declared hotly, raising his helm to look straight at the healer, his faceplates for once free from any arrogance. “We want you to eat. Otherwise we’ll just drop them somewhere in the crystal forest.” Sunstreaker’s optics glowed fiercely as if to dare Ratchet to deny them one more time so that he could do so.
Gaze flickering between the brothers’, Ratchet found he had been verbally cornered. “Fine, fine!” he grumbled finally, “I’ll share it with you two but don’t think this will become a habit.”
Even though his answer was unenthusiastic, Ratchet could not dismiss the small grins that spread on both of the brothers’ faceplates as he took a step closer. But when the older dragon bent down to sniff the technogazelle, he missed the small, victorious flash in both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s optics.
If Ratchet had seen that flash, he would have felt more troubled than disgruntled.
** ** **
The Autobots were surprised but mostly pleased when Sideswipe and Sunstreaker informed them that they had decided to stay longer than just few solar cycles - mostly, since there were some disgruntled voices, namely Cliffjumper. The little dragon was still annoyed by the fact that Sunstreaker had tossed him aside like a databug during their first meeting with the brothers. There was no love from the larger dragon’s side either. Because of the animosity between them, Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper had to be broken apart several times in the future solar cycles when the two stubborn and quickly angered dragons butted their helms.
That duty fell mainly on Prowl and Ironhide but one time Bumblebee had stepped in, the little dragon’s act of courage surprising everyone.
Apart from that there were no real problems between the brothers and the clan.
Curious of the pair, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were often coaxed into telling about their travels, when the clan gathered on the clearing at nightfall to socialize with each other. The red brother was eager to share the stories that frequently seemed far too adventurous to be real and the rolling optics of Sunstreaker only confirmed this. The yellow dragon never corrected the other, though, letting Sideswipe enjoy the attention. The younger Autobots especially were fascinated with Sideswipe’s tales, silencing even the ever bubbling Bluestreak as the grey and red dragon raptly listened how Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had flown all the way to the Rust Sea and met a colossal water dragon called Omega Supreme - a particular detail that made the higher rank shift uneasily and share subtle, meaningful looks.
It was five solar cycles later when Ironhide wanted personally to see just what kind of fighters Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were. The brothers accepted the offer of a friendly spar without hesitation, sharing identical cocky grins as the large black dragon set some rules, like no optic-clawing or whining when - not if - they got their afts handed to them by Ironhide.
Once the word got around that Ironhide was going to fight with the brothers, every single Autobot made sure to be there that morning.
“Be ready to use your skills, healer,” Sunstreaker informed Ratchet haughtily when he spotted the white healer among the watchers.
“Oh, you can count on that, pup,” Ratchet smirked back, the grin only widening, when the yellow dragon visibly stopped, hesitating.
A strong push from Sideswipe startled Sunstreaker from his stupor and the brothers jumped in the air where Ironhide was already flying in lazy circles.
“Two technogoats that Ironhide drags this up to two groons before finishing them,” Smokescreen suggested, the clan’s most notorious dragon nudging Jazz with a devious grin as the three warriors finally met each other high above.
The silvery advisor laughed, and he was not alone. “Oh, Ah dunno, Smokey, they are quite good. Ah’ve seen them hunt; Sunstreaker's very fast while Sideswipe knows a trick or two.”
“You’re joking?! This is Ironhide. The old mech has been teaching younglings to fight longer than those two have known how to fly,” came the mock-shocked shout from Hound, the tracker-hunter’s faceplates split into a wide grin even as Mirage rolled his yellow optics next to him.
The easy banter was interrupted by loud twin roars and everybody quickly looked up to see streaks of red and yellow charging at the big black dot. Ironhide maneuvered in the air with ease despite his bulk, dodging the attack and began his own with a mighty fire ball.
It was a captivating to watch three strong dragon mechs battle and use their skills against each other and soon the clan members were following the spar with whole lot more interest.
Ironhide was fast and often brutal but he had a cunning processor behind the brawn that made him a feared and respected opponent in a battle - even the Decepticons were careful not to take on the hulking black dragon alone. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were young and fast and worked seamlessly together, always knowing where the other was, always using an opening the other created.
They were good but not that good.
“I say he takes those younglings down in next six breems,” Ratchet suddenly announced, breaking the spell that had taken over even him.
“Six breems? Are you sure?” Smokescreen asked, optics gleaming as he did the mental calculations. “Well… It’s bit tight but I accept. Anyone else?”
“Three technogoats that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe last longer than two groons,” Optimus said, the leader’s sudden interested surprising them all.
Ratchet narrowed his optics, displeasure clear in the jarring way his tail moved.
Optics wide, Smokescreen managed to nod.
“Ya really think they can do it?” Jazz asked from Optimus, looking even smaller than usually next to his massive leader. From his bond with Prowl, Jazz was highly aware of his red-horned mate’s keen attention on the spar, and how Prowl was using the opportunity to memorize every single move the brothers did for possible future use.
Optimus cocked his helm downwards and just offered a secretive grin.
** ** **
In the end Ratchet was proved to be both right and wrong.
The spar had lasted well over two groons, making Optimus the winner of the little betting pool. When Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had finally submitted to Ironhide, all three of them had been covered in burns and slashes.
The sight of the trio had nearly sent Ratchet into a fit. Then again, I should have known better, the healer had thought bitterly, when he had herded them into his large cave.
“Stop moving,” Ratchet ordered as he inspected the burn Ironhide had managed to land on at the base of Sunstreaker’s right wing joint, where the strong limb was attached to the yellow dragon’s shoulder.
Sunstreaker, clearly irritated at his and Sideswipe’s loss, ignored the order and pushed himself away from the healer. He had taken maybe one or two steps, when something hard connected with the back of his helm, making the yellow dragon stumble.
“I said, stop moving, you little Pit spawn!” Ratchet yelled right in to Sunstreaker’s audio, the smooth piece of metal he had thrown at the yellow dragon falling on the floor with a dull clang.
For a moment Sunstreaker really did freeze, jaw hanging open as he stared at the healer in shock. He got over it fast, though, when his ringing audios caught a chuckle from the side. Glaring murderously at his laughing brother and the equally amused Ironhide next to Sideswipe, Sunstreaker growled “shut up, glitch” to the red dragon before wincing as Ratchet spread medical salve over the scald marks.
“This should make your self-repair nanites heal faster but don’t go flying the rest of the cycle and if you even think about breaking my orders, this wound will be the least of your worries,” Ratchet swore darkly, optics ablaze as he turned towards the still chortling Sideswipe. “What are you grinning at? Get your aft here!”
Blinking, the red dragon meekly approached the healer, which in turn made Sunstreaker chuckle shortly, a sound Ratchet realized he hadn’t heard before. The deep, melodious laugh caused the red and white dragon pause, sending a tingling sensation all over his chassis. Frowning at the odd reaction, Ratchet decided to ponder it later as he started to circle Sideswipe, looking for any wound or burns on the shiny scales.
He soon found sluggishly dribbling energon and followed it to four nasty looking claw marks on the left inner thigh, where the white scales were pinkish with the oozing liquid.
“Roll on to your back and spread your legs,” Ratchet ordered brusquely, raking his processor in for the best medicine to use in such tricky place.
Sideswipe blinked. “Uh, what?” he asked, optics wide.
Ratchet merely huffed in annoyance.
“Primus, do I have to repeat everything today?” he growled and bodily forced Sideswipe to the ground, sparing a glare for Ironhide. “I blame you for this; how on Cybertron did you slash him there?”
The black dragon merely shrugged. “Lucky hit, although I was aiming for something else,” Ironhide added with a feral grin that made Sideswipe whimper and Sunstreaker tuck instinctively his tail between the yellow thighs.
“Why am I not surprised?” Ratchet muttered as he picked up one of the few crystal jars that held his medicine before turning back at Sideswipe. “Well? I’m waiting.”
Glancing at his brother, Sideswipe obediently rolled around, opening his back legs wider than they’d normally be in such a position. Huffing, Ratchet lowered the crystal jar on the ground and bent closer to the wound.
A loud yelp echoed in the cave, and the healer had to hastily to back off so that he wouldn’t be kicked in the faceplates.
“What the slag?!” Sideswipe cried, shocked and not so a little embarrassed, “you licked me?!”
“Idiot, I need to clean the wound before adding the medicine,” Ratchet snapped back, wings twitching from unease for almost losing his optics because of Sideswipe’s violent reaction, “I suppose I should have warned you.”
Sunstreaker snorted. “You suppose?” he stretched the word, although the yellow dragon’s attention was raptly on his squirming brother and the upset healer.
“Better get used to it, if you need Ratchet’s care again, youngling,” Ironhide muttered wryly as he turned to leave since he had already gotten his share of Ratchet’s tender mercies. “He rarely tells any of his patients what he does, which is why Red Alert hates coming here with his entire spark. Smart youngling, if you ask me, just like his carrier.”
“I heard that!” Ratchet yelled after the old warrior, who hastily disappeared out of the cave before the healer could do anything, namely throw something at Ironhide. Shaking his helm with a mutter, the red and white dragon turned back to the silent Sideswipe, halting at the calculating expression on the pale grey faceplates. “What?” Ratchet demanded, unnerved by the intense stare directed at him.
The expression was gone as soon as Ratchet barked the question and was replaced by a mischievous grin. “Oh nothing,” the red dragon hummed innocently, “shall we continue?”
Suspicious, Ratchet slowly returned to his task. After cleaning the wounds with few effective licks, the healer reached again for the crystal jar. Pouring some of the dark blue and thick fluid on to his paw, Ratchet carefully covered all of the wounds with the medicine before announcing he was done. Sideswipe deftly rolled back on to his feet but instead of leaving with his brother, the two dragons stayed put and watched as the healer approached a small hollowing on the wall where the rest of glittering jars rested.
Sensing the heavy gazes, Ratchet twisted his neck, raising one of his optic ridges inquiringly. “Was there something else you two needed?” he asked impatiently.
“You know, if you wanted to put your paws on us, all you would have to do was to ask,” Sideswipe suddenly said with a low purr even as Sunstreaker bared his teeth in a predatory grin.
“We are more than willing for that and more,” the yellow dragon rumbled.
Ratchet blinked, the jar almost slipping from the red paw as he processed what had been said.
The brothers saw how the healer’s frame stiffened and how the dorsal spikes flared upwards. A low rumble, like from an oncoming thunderstorm, reached Sideswipe and Suntreaker’s audios as the healer carefully placed the jar on the cave floor. The deep growl wasn’t what they really had been hoping for but it was something, the ripples of anticipation passing between the brothers.
Then Ratchet exploded - both in action and words.
“OUT! You glitchmice fragging Pit-rejected slaggers, get. Out. NOW!!” Ratchet roared optics almost white as he whirled around to chase away the yellow and red dragons, the brothers scrambling over each other to escape from the healer’s wrath.
Wheeljack heard the commotion before seeing it and managed to jump away in the nick of time when two blurs shot out of the cave and down the mountain. The grey and white dragon couldn’t help but snicker when Ratchet followed them, hot on the brothers’ tails, spewing both fire and curses after the escaping dragons.
“Well, there’s something I haven’t seen in vorns,” Wheeljack mused as he watched the white dragon take air and make deadly dives at the still running Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.
There was a loud squawk from one of the brothers, before the pair made it to the safety of the crystal forest, indicating that the irate healer had managed to land a hit. Even though Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were now out of sight, Ratchet kept circling above the glittering forest like the dangerous predator he was. It would take a long time before the brothers would be able to venture out from their impromptu haven.
“What was that?!”
Wheeljack turned his gaze away from the angered healer at the bewildered gasp to see a gaping Inferno. Next to the massive dragon stood Jazz, the small advisor laughing so hard he visibly struggled to stay on his legs.
“That, my young friend, was the Wronged Hatchet, the most dangerous Autobot in the whole clan,” Wheeljack informed as seriously as possible. With that, he left the puzzled Inferno alone with still howling Jazz, who finally collapsed on the ground.
** ** **
Despite the brothers driving Ratchet into the brink of madness, the little sparring match had some positive consequences; Mirage finally decided to challenge Hound into the long-awaited domination fight. The green tracker-hunter eagerly accepted the challenge, and the white and blue dragon chased the larger one out of the mountain to somewhere private to settle things. They were not seen for several solar cycles.
Also, the red and yellow brothers started to spend more time with the younger, unmated Autobots. Even Sunstreaker seemed to find some kind of confidante in the colorful Tracks. Prowl did keep a sharp optic on Sunstreaker, though. The yellow dragon was often seen with Bluestreak, and the black and white advisor’s protective protocols engaged because of his worry for his beloved little brother. Although it was rather ironic that Sideswipe found a companion in Smokescreen, who happened to be both Prowl and Bluestreak’s brother but from a much older clutch.
But, as the solar cycles went on, it became clear that neither Sunstreaker nor Sideswipe were really interested in any of the younger Autobots. Not in the way some had been hoping for.
No, the brothers had someone else on their minds.
And the proof of that appeared out of the blue fifteen solar cycles after the clan had met the two for the first time:
Ratchet was startled from his recharge by an unexpected thump! of something heavy hitting the cave floor.
The healer blearily raised his helm up. The blurry optics spotted something beige-plated in front of him, which might have been the reason behind the sudden noise. Blinking, the healer managed to concentrate his gaze to make out the still cooling technogazelle that somehow had ended up in his cave.
Ratchet inhaled to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. But instead of the smell of fresh energon, Ratchet’s olfactory sensors were overpowered by the rich scent of another dragon, or more precisely two particular dragons. Shaking off last of the recharge, Ratchet practically jumped onto his feet when he saw Sideswipe and Sunstreaker standing in his cave, both wearing twin expressions of smugness.
“Morning, Ratchet~,” Sideswipe chirped gleefully, nudging the greying technogazelle with the tip of his snout, “we brought you something to eat since you didn’t get your share last cycle.”
“I still say they should have gone after turbobisons and not technodeers,” Sunstreaker muttered, critically observing his energon splattered paws before the yellow dragon unceremoniously laying down to clean himself. “Hunting them might take more energy but you get to have more than just two bites. Your leader alone could eat a whole turbobison and still have more.”
Ratchet was speechless, which didn’t occur often. The red and white dragon kept opening and closing his mouth, optics flying wildly from the dead mechanimal to still grinning Sideswipe, and then from him to the indifferent Sunstreaker. From the yellow brother his gaze went back to the technogazelle, before repeating the whole cycle again. It was true that he hadn’t had his share of the kill, since the hunting party hadn’t been able to catch enough for everybody. Ratchet had, despite Optimus’ protests, gruffly told the others to eat as the healer had retreated to his cave, thinking he’d go hunting himself in the morning.
He hadn’t seen either Sunstreaker or Sideswipe at the platform but that had not been out of the ordinary. The brothers preferred to make themselves scarce when the hunters returned - Prowl had openly suspected it was because they didn’t want to make the Autobots feel like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe should be included in the sharing.
This meant that they had overheard someone talking about Ratchet’s decision, and that someone was most likely -
Frowning, Ratchet stared the yellow brother. “Did you listen to Bluestreak’s babbles again?”
The haughtier brother stopped his grooming to look levelly at the older dragon. Sunstreaker, not the in slightest bit embarrassed, nodded curtly.
“He also told me this has happened before,” the yellow dragon answered back defiantly. “What use is of a healer that doesn’t look after himself? Of all dragons, you should know better.”
“So you two decided it was your right to go and hunt for me? I’m not some hatchling, I can look after myself!”
“Oh, we know you’re no hatchling,” Sunstreaker drawled darkly, the bright blue of his optics suddenly deepening.
Rising gracefully onto his feet, the sleeker dragon stepped over the technogazelle, closing the distance between him and the white healer, coming so close that his pale grey snout almost touched Ratchet’s pearly white one. Ratchet, dorsal spikes flaring nervously, could feel all but feel the warmth radiating from the strong frame, his core temperature spiking at Sunstreaker’s sudden nearness.
“We smelled you that solar cycle - long before we even heard your fight with that Windseeker - and we got curious,” Sunstreaker purred, inhaling deep to emphasis his point and the grey spikes on the older dragon’s spine shook, the white tail stilling in mid-air. “And, as a healer, you know what it means when an unmated dragon receives kills like this from another unmated dragon, don’t you? Ratchet?”
Later on Ratchet would realize it had been the very first time Sunstreaker had called him by his designation but at that the moment he was too nervous to notice. Unfortunately every time Ratchet got out of his comfort zone, he lashed out.
“Back off, you arrogant glitch, I have no time for your hatchling games,” Ratchet growled, his whole frame adopting a threatening posture with wings hiked up and scale plating puffed out.
“We are not playing, Ratchet,” Sideswipe cut in, his normally playful voice dead serious and another first the healer could count witnessing in such short time. “We are serious about this.”
“Serious about what?” Ratchet gritted through his teeth, although deep down there was a small part of him that already knew what they were talking about, and he was both dreading and craving to hear Sideswipe’s next words:
“We want to court you.”
** ** **
Wheeljack was highly amused as he watched Ratchet to pace back and forth in front of the healer’s personal cave, muttering the foulest curses at each sharp turn. The lounging grey and white dragon was careful not to show his glee, the flickering tail tucked out of his friend’s sight just in case. The black dragon sitting on his haunches next to Wheeljack had no such qualms. Ironhide smirked openly as Ratchet’s spine spikes rose and lowered, the healer’s wings twitching and tail whipping in open irritation.
The cause of Ratchet’s bad mood lay innocently on the ground between the three of clan elders.
“I think it’s nice, right, ‘Jack?” Ironhide drawled, optics glinting in a rare sight of mischief as he glanced at the dragon next to him, who nodded eagerly. “Very traditional one, too.”
“Oh yes, but very hard to find, though; I wonder where they managed to get it?” Wheeljack asked conversationally, as if they were talking about something mundane like the last hunt’s success or how Smokescreen had yet again won in a game of technodeer antlers.
Anything else than the large, crimson-colored crystal, which was the latest courting gift from Ratchet’s suitors.
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had been bringing kills and other sorts of offerings to the healer for the past twelve solar cycles. The crimson crystal was so far the most impressive one, though, such deep and flawless coloring indicated it was one of the rarest of its kind. The crystal’s appearance also explained where the brothers had disappeared to for a whole solar cycle the dark cycle before.
“I don’t care if they found it in the deepest gorges of Kaon, I don’t want it! I don’t want any of this!” Ratchet hissed, whirling around to glare at them. Ironhide and Wheeljack had expected to see anger but instead of it the healer’s optics showed panic and something akin to a fear.
That sobered up the other two instantly, mild worry replacing any glee they had been feeling at Ratchet’s expense.
“Ratchet…,” Wheeljack murmured as the white healer collapsed ungracefully on the ground, covering the white faceplates with his red paws. “It can’t be that bad to be courted by them.”
“You don’t understand, Wheeljack,” Ratchet muttered, frustrated, “we are old, older than most here - Pit, I can remember the time when Optimus was nothing but a gangly youngling and most of the current clan weren’t allowed to leave their creators’ nests. They - they’re young, just matured mechs. Why would they want to court a half-rusted dragon like me?”
Ironhide snorted, fire flickering from his nostrils. “Now listen to me, Ratchet,” the black dragon growled gravelly. “We might be old but this is not the first unusual courting we have seen. Or have you already forgotten about Red Alert and Inferno? Red Alert was barely through his first heat when Inferno showed up and Red decided to claim him. And now they’re bondmates.”
Ratchet’s harsh glare softened slightly, and Ironhide bent his neck, rubbing his scarred helm comfortingly against the brooding healer’s. “There’s no harm in finding out what it would be like to have one of them as your nestmate for one nesting season,” Ironhide continued with a low voice. “There might not even be a clutch, since they’re so young.”
“Don’t you mean because I’m so old?” Ratchet spat bitterly, finally removing the paws.
They could see emotions swirling in the anguished healer’s optics, clawing their way across Ratchet’s white faceplates, several of them easily recognizable; anger, fear, regret.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Ratchet,” Wheeljack murmured, settling down next to the larger dragon, one tattered wing spreading over the folded red and white ones.
Wheeljack only became more worried when Ratchet leaned into the soothing gesture, the other two dragons realizing at just how bothered Ratchet was with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s interest. The black dragon followed Wheeljack’s example, one large black and grey wing covering almost both of the smaller dragons. Ironhide and Wheeljack chose to ignore when Ratchet reached for the large crystal or how the color matched perfectly the red scales as claws ran across the sparkling surface.
Instead they kept an optic on any flash of red and yellow, acting as their friend’s guards for the moment.
Ratchet felt a tad guilty for making his friends worry but he hadn’t felt this confused in ages. The ache in his frame and almost notable change in his scent because of the slowly activating mating protocols only added to the mess. It had been vorns since matters like courting and nesting had bothered Ratchet personally. He freely admitted that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were both handsome dragons with beautiful frames as well as successful hunters - they brought a kill for the healer almost every other cycle. They were strong fighters that would most likely sire - or carry - strong clutches and fiercely protect their hatchlings and mate from anything even slightly harmful.
But why they are both doing the courting? Ratchet wondered, optics narrowing.
Yes, that was a good question that he hadn’t really pondered. As an apprentice he had met trines but that kind of mating ritual was more common among Windseekers, although even they took a fourth nestmate for one or two nesting seasons.
But trines among outside Windseekers?
Ratchet had not heard of nor seen one since the territorial war between the Autobots and the Decepticons began. So why did Sideswipe and Sunstreaker want one? They were very close, closer than most siblings, which must have been a result of their harsh life, where the only dragon one could truly trust was your own brother.
So this brought another question: did Ratchet want to be a nestmate in a trine?
Honestly, the healer didn’t know.
** ** **
Early the next morning, Jazz and Smokescreen rode on the thermal winds, gliding lazily through the skies as they patrolled on the edges of the Autobot territory far in the south end of Mountains of Iacon. They were discussing the most recent events in their clan, like who was going to be the carrier of Mirage and Hound’s clutch, as the pair had returned two solar cycles ago. The positively smug mech dragons had refused to say a word to the curious Autobots despite their prying. The other interesting topic was how long until Ratchet snapped and challenged Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to a domination fight just to get rid of them for once and all.
It was a pity, since their courting provided such amusement to the rest of the clan.
“Ah’m telling ya, those two won’t know what hit them when ol’ Hatchet is through with them,” Jazz cackled, doing some somersaults in the air just for the fun of it.
“Do you think they’ll leave if one of them loses?” Smokescreen asked the valid question, optics following a flock of cybergeese far below them. It would be so easy to swoop down and catch a small snack but he wasn’t that low on energy just yet.
Jazz righted himself, silver scales gleaming in the sunlight as the advisor’s carefree expression sobered. “Yeah, Ah think so,” he admitted thoughtfully. “They’ve rogues and proud ones at that. Ah don’t think rejection from Hatchet would make them eager to stay any longer.”
The mostly blue dragon snorted. “Well, at least Prowl will have one less worry,” Smokescreen added almost evilly. “It is rather amusing to watch him act like a first-time carrier with Bluestreak, although Blue could hit his first heat any cycle now. You should give him something else to fret about. You know: do your duty as a bondmate.”
“What? Ya want some little hatchlings to corrupt, Smokey?” Jazz laughed, “Prowler will kill ya if ya teach our offspring to cheat in a game of technodeer antlers.”
Smokescreen grinned, raising his helm to look at the smaller dragon. “Maybe, but you have to admit that - JAZZ, DUCK!”
The sudden roar surprised the silver dragon, but Jazz folded his wings without question. The smaller dragon immediately plummeted out of the way as Smokescreen released a scorching fire at Ravage who had appeared behind Jazz. The little black pest snarled as the fire singed him and hastily backed off as Smokescreen lunged toward it.
“Ravage!” Smokescreen snarled, drawing his wings closer to his chassis to gain the speed to chase the little Decepticon. “Look out for Soundwave and the others!”
“On it!” Jazz shouted back, already scanning the skies around them before spotting the familiar dark blue dragon who had two smaller ones circling around him.
Behind them were several other dragons, most notably a particular silvery and black dragon who could be seen so clearly because of his massive size.
“Scrap, it’s Megatron and rest of the ‘cons,” Jazz cursed, twisting swiftly around, “fall back, Smokey, we need to warn the others!”
Growling darkly after the retreating Ravage, Smokescreen reluctantly turned to follow Jazz as they flew as fast as possible back to the mountain.
** ** **
Unaware of the incoming fight, Ratchet was on his way to meet Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.
Earlier in the cycle he had had a brief meeting with Mirage and Hound, and the discussion with the newly mated pair had given Ratchet the need to set things straight once and for all.
The healer made his way to the cave the brothers had taken as their own, finding both of them lounging outside. The two large frames were curled against each other as they enjoyed the sun. Sideswipe napped, his black-horned helm resting on the ground. Sunstreaker had his optics closed, too, but they opened immediately as his audios caught the sound of someone approaching.
Wordlessly, the yellow dragon turned to wake his brother with a gentle nudge and a quiet rumble. It was so at odds with the usually harsh and sometimes cruel behavior Sunstreaker had showed during the past lunar cycle that Ratchet slowed down in surprise. Sideswipe whined in his recharge, murmuring something under his breath that prompted the other to nip his ear.
“Wake up, Sides,” Sunstreaker huffed, but his voice held no irritation, just brotherly affection.
“Whuh? Sunny?” Sideswipe asked, blinking blearily as he tried to regain his senses. The red brother raised his helm and cocked it like a hatchling, as if to ask why he had been woken up.
“It’s Sunstreaker, glitch, and Ratchet’s here,” the yellow dragon corrected with a slightly dejected sigh, and Ratchet tried to ignore the flutter in his spark when his designation was spoken by that deep voice.
“Ratch?” Sideswipe repeated sleepily, shaking his helm before the optics brightened enough to indicate that Sideswipe was once again functional. “Uh, hey? Did you like the crystal?” he asked, suddenly sounding a bit nervous while Sunstreaker’s tail started to twitch along the yellow wings.
“It was…”
Words like ‘beautiful’, ‘amazing’ and ‘no one has ever given me something like that’ flashed in his processor but he couldn’t really use them because that would only work against him.
“… pleasant,” Ratchet finally finished, careful to keep his faceplates as impassive as possible.
“Just ‘pleasant’?” Sideswipe inquired tentatively, clearly disappointed at the lack of reaction.
Sunstreaker said nothing but his tail’s violent move behind the brothers did all the talking.
“Yes, that’s right,” Ratchet repeated determinedly. He steeled himself for any violent reactions, since it was an option when it came to these two. “I’ve come to talk about this so called courting,” he began, not missing the way they both tensed, optics brightening in such clear expectation that for a moment Ratchet almost felt sorry for them. “I came to tell you that you two need to stop.”
Just like the healer had predicted, his words prompted a strong reaction from the younger dragons.
“What?!” Sideswipe yelped, jumping lightning fast onto his feet, and Sunstreaker followed his brother just as fast. “But why? We know - “
“What’s this slag, healer?” Sunstreaker spat the normally respectful title like it was poison. “Do you think it’s easy to hunt a technogazelle - “
“ - aren’t from your clan, but we thought proving ourselves such as the traditions demand was enough but I - “
“ - that we like to fly back and forth across these mountains, for several solar cycles, that it was fun that my claws broke when we dug out that slagging crystal - “
“ - even asked from Smokescreen if you Autobots had some special courting rules, and he reassured me that they didn’t!“
“ -maybe we should have just skipped the courting and challenged you right away into a domination fight like that Windseeker!”
Ratchet felt like his audios were going to split at the sudden assault of panicked yelps and angry growls. He tried to listen what was being said, but Sideswipe and Sunstreaker spoke over each other so he managed only to understand a word here and there. What really caught his attention what was said last, though.
“You did what? No, wait, you said what?!” Ratchet snarled, not sure which one of the aft-helmed slaggers he should hit first as he glared at them. “Now listen to me, fraggers, I told you from the very beginning that I had no time for your games.”
“And we told you that this is no game,” Sunstreaker snarled right back, big wings hiked up and spread wide in the air in a display of his irritation.
“Sunstreaker’s right, Ratchet,” Sideswipe rumbled. He was not as visibly frustrated as his brother but there was no trace of his usual cheerfulness either. “We are serious.”
“But why are both of you doing the courting?” the red and white dragon cried in frustration.
That earned a different kind of response from the brothers, quickly stopping the situation from escalating into something dangerous. Two pairs of optics blinked before Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared a puzzled look with each other.
“Because we’re brothers,” Sideswipe said merely, cocking his helm like it was obvious.
A furious growl from the healer quickly said that that had not been the right answer. It was Sunstreaker, who understood what Ratchet was asking for. He rolled his optics and released a deep sigh, earning a curious look from the red dragon.
“We’re twins,” Sunstreaker enlightened Ratchet, and watched how the information sank into the older dragon, “carried from the same egg, bonded together by our sparks from the very moment we hatched.”
Now it was Ratchet’s turn to be perplexed, his baffled expression quickly morphing into a shocked one as his healer’s processor went into over-drive. His optics scanned Sideswipe and Sunstreaker from the tip of their snouts to end of their tails and it was like Ratchet saw the two young dragon mechs for the very first time.
Twins.
Honest to Primus twins!
He had heard stories as an apprentice healer, about the abnormally shaped eggs that had produced two hatchlings instead of one. But Ratchet had not actually met twins until now.
This also explained a lot of things; the unusual closeness Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared compared to Prowl, Smokescreen and Bluestreak, and how they managed to be such a successful hunting pair and formidable fighters.
The reason had to because of rumored twin bond, Ratchet deduced, a bond that was rumored to be very similar to a sparkbond but even more intense since they were practically one spark split into two, one twin always sharing what the other twin did, be it pain or pleasure, anger or sorrow, hate or love. It would only be natural that twins would be attracted to same dragon, their feelings easily overlapping each other’s.
Which meant Ratchet was slagged.
To have one courting dragon was bad enough but to have twins that backed each other up in sheer stubbornness that would easily rival even the most hard-helmed suitor, there was no way to escape.
“B-but I’m old, older than both of you together!” Ratchet protested indignantly, grasping at straws in his desperation. “Surely you two could find a more suitable nestmate?!”
Sunstreaker snorted, calmed just enough to silence the aggressive growls and fold his wings once more. “That’s not a problem for me or Sideswipe, healer,” he huffed, looking far too pleased as his optics raked over the white and red chassis. “True, you are quite old for our first nestmate but we don’t slagging care about something insignificant like age-difference. We know from experience that you’re a strong fighter as well as a skillful, if a bit violent, healer and that you don’t take slag from anyone.”
“And you are cute, too,” Sideswipe chirped, grinning audaciously despite the hiss he received from the harried healer.
“Besides, you can’t be that old if your mating protocols are preparing for a heat just right before nesting season,” the yellow twin pointed out smugly. “So, do we need to say more or should we just show you how serious we are?” Sunstreaker purred darkly and Sideswipe enthusiastically agreed with his brother, by reflecting his predatory grin perfectly.
“No, you can’t - I, I won’t allow this“, Ratchet stumbled on his words in his anger, confusion, shaking his helm even as he started to back away. That turned out to be the wrong thing to do.
Sideswipe moved in an instant, jaws clamping down on a wingtip but not hard enough to penetrate the vulnerable membrane, the icy-blue optics blazing with mixed emotions such as determination, nervousness and fear. Sunstreaker was equally fast, growling so low from his chassis that it vibrated the through the air and right into Ratchet’s pale grey chest plates. The yellow dragon came so close that the healer had to bend his neck backwards to keep their snouts touching as Ratchet got once again reminded that the twins were bigger than him even if just a little.
“Stop fighting, Ratchet,” Sunstreaker murmured quietly, his gaze mirroring that of his brother, yet there was a glimmer of hope in the swirling depths of bright blue. “We have done what the traditions demand and you have accepted our courting, don’t try to deny it. Let’s finish this as it should be done.”
For a moment all three stood absolutely still, Sunstreaker and Ratchet’s optics locked together. And something, like missing piece of a complex puzzle, clicked into its right place.
Snarling, Ratchet struck out, trying to claw the yellow twin’s faceplates, missing them by a fraction as Sunstreaker swiftly darted away. Sideswipe released his hold on the wing as the healer’s dual-barbed tail hit the red dragon’s shoulder. The brothers fell back to stand side by side, cautious but also excited as they watched the crouched red and white dragon glare at them, smoldering flames licking the pearly white jaws. Ratchet inhaled deeply, his chassis expanding visibly before releasing a thundering roar that bounced off the cliffs, wordlessly declaring his challenge to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The twins accepted it with their own audio-deafening roars.
Roused by the noise, Autobots rushed to witness the end of what had become one the clan’s strangest, yet most interesting courting in its long history.
Optimus stood with Ironhide and Red Alert, the massive leader’s blue neck spikes rising and the giant wings moving restlessly. The instinct to protect his fellow clan member stirred Optimus’ spark as he watched Ratchet attack the two younger dragons helm-on. It might have looked like a reckless move, since Sunstreaker and Sideswipe easily split apart so that the red and white clan elder harmlessly passed them but the Autobots knew their healer.
Cliffjumper cheered with shameless glee when Ratchet twisted sideways in mid-air, hitting Sideswipe with all his weight. The momentum sent the red brother rolling down the mountain and Ratchet gave Sideswipe extra push as he used the red brother’s chassis as leverage to fling himself backwards and straight into Sunstreaker.
Falling into a heap of limbs and wings, Ratchet quickly used the yellow twin’s disorientation to gain the upper paw, twisting and turning until the younger dragon was half-under him. Jaws snapping and snarling viciously, Sunstreaker trashed and bucked, the fins on his tail spreading as the strong appendage snaked around Ratchet’s, the sharp needle-like spikes scratching the white scales. Sunstreaker fought viciously and managed to get his legs underneath his chassis; the yellow dragon kicked the healer off his back with a move similar to the one the healer had used on him all those solar cycles ago.
Ratchet spread his wings to stop himself from hitting the ground, tail flashing out to grab a hold of a big chuck of metal hurl it towards the still grounded Sunstreaker. A wave of sympathetic cringes went through the Autobots when the projectile hit the yellow dragon right in the middle of his fore helm. Sunstreaker fell down clutching his helm, snarling and hissing curses at the healer.
Beating his wings twice to gain more height, Ratchet barely had a nanoklik to breathe before he was attacked from behind by Sideswipe, the red twin having been able to stop his rolling before going all the way down to the crystal forest. Sideswipe tried to grab the red and white wings, to force the healer back on the ground but Ratchet evaded all of his attempts with his many vorns of experience. In turn, the older dragon tried to use his skills to dislocate a joint from a shoulder or from a back leg and even from the red tail.
The aerial dance turned into an even more impressive set of dives and swoops and near misses when Sunstreaker got his bearings together and shot into the sky, too.
“Optimus!”
The huge dragon’s attention was torn from the intense domination fight by Prowl’s unusually distressed call. He watched the agitated black and white dragon stumble as he landed, the elegance the advisor normally held forgotten.
“What is it, Prowl?” Optimus asked worriedly, fearing that he already knew the answer for his own question.
“The Decepticons are coming from the south; the whole clan has been sighted and Megatron is leading the way,” Prowl spoke hastily. The dual-colored wings trembled as the bond between him and Jazz was open to the fullest. Pulses of love, reassurance and slivers of worry were sent back and forth between the two mates.
“We need to defend the mountain, Prime!” Ironhide demanded, barely noticing the sudden appearance of Inferno, the red and black dragon summoned there by his mate’s distress.
“I know,” the largest of the five dragons rumbled, energon starting to run faster in his fuel lines as his instinct to protect his clan truly reared its helm. His optics turned back to the still battling Ratchet, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, regret in the blue gaze. “I’m sorry, old friend,” Optimus murmured and inhaled deeply.
The roar that left the massive dragon’s mouth echoed throughout the proudly standing mountains, louder than any other dragon living dragon, scaring all wildlife surrounding red and blue and white leader. The sound demanded respect and obedience from those who heard the call. It was a roar that could easily make his enemies cower in fear and inspire the utter loyalty of those who followed Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots of the Mountains.
That loyalty was what cut through Ratchet’s haziness, his usually cunningly sharp processor reduced to its most raw and primitive protocols the healer had engaged the very moment he had initiated the domination fight. The white dragon saw his whole clan gather around their leader, answering to his authority without a question. Ratchet watched them rise in the air with Optimus on his rightful place at the front as the clan flew south. Conflicted by his sworn duty and the equally demanding need to finish the domination fight, Ratchet turned his helm away from the quickly distancing clan to the tense Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They too were affected by the entrancing call of Optimus Prime.
With a spark-wrenching cry that split the air Ratchet made his decision.
He flew to his clan.
TBC...
** ** ** **
A/N: Soo... Who thought for a one second that Ratchet would abandon his clan? Yeah, didn't think so. XD
Fandom: AU Dragonformers with mainly G1 colorations but with a twist of Bayverse
Pairing/Characters: RatchetxTwins as the main pairing, loads of other G1 characters and some minor pairings
Rating: T
Word Count: 9039, all in all over 30 000
Summary/Warnings: As one of the oldest dragons in his clan, Ratchet has seen almost everything but when he's rescued from an unwanted claiming by a pair of clan-less dragons, he's faced with a whole new problem. Violence, cussing
Disclaimer:Transformers belong to Hasbro/Takara, the idea of dragonformers belong to various other people, the first ones appearing at least in 2007. I can only claim this plot as mine.
AN: Like I stated in the disclaimer, the oldest fanfictions with Dragonformers I personally found can be found here in under the username Okami-chan, posted between 2007-2008. From LJ there are writers and artists such as zjargon, renegadewriter8, chimeradark, xobit_prime, who can also be found as Xobit from DA along these artists & writers: Jazz-the-tiger, AutobotV and Murr-miay. New authors & artists has come since I wrote this fic but these were the ones who had the main influence on my muse.
Big thank-you goes to fuzipenguin for being my beta.
- Senna-chan
Units of time used in the story:
breem = 8.3 minutes
groon = ~1 hour
joor = 6 hours
nanoklik (Animated)= ~1 second
solar cycle = day
dark cycle = night
lunar cycle = little more than a month
vorn = 83 years
stellar cycle= year
”Normal talking”
Thinking
::Bonds::
PART II: The Wooing Begins
Ratchet roused from recharge early the next solar cycle, a habit no injury could thwart. Feeling much better and a cursory check confirmed both the self-repairing nanites and rest had done their duty; there were no visible marks on the scale plating. Only thing Ratchet was suffering was low energy levels, which needed to be corrected soon.
Stepping out of his spacious, two chambered cave, Ratchet moved quietly down the mountain. It was still too early for others to be up with the exception of those on guard duty.
Mirage and Hound stood side by side near the platform, the pair greeting Ratchet with respectful nods. The healer nodded back, smirking slightly at the closeness between the slender white and blue dragon and the bulkier green and grey one. He had to wonder when they would fly away to put an end to their little dance. Knowing Mirage, he would make the tracker-hunter work his aft off no matter which one initiated the domination fight.
When Ratchet reached the lower parts of the mountain, he stepped into the crystal forest, walking the well-used path to the small river of rust-fluid. Normally all flying dragons avoided the reddish-brown liquid but an occasional dip and good, thorough crystal sand bath afterwards did wonders to dragon’s scales. A simple relaxation Ratchet craved right now. Sighing in pleasure, the white dragon waded into the river, using his tail to splash the liquid all over his sides before rolling around to wet his wings, too. The warm fluid made his plating tingle pleasantly, getting rid of any lingering smells of the Windseeker and energon.
After a half a groon or so Ratchet climbed back to the river bank, drops of rust fluid dribbling down his red and white plates. Shaking his frame, Ratchet beat his wings twice to get rid of any liquid within the folded membrane, before heading for the next part of his self-ordered pampering: a nice, long sand bath.
Over the centuries, several generations of dragons had shaped the very ground itself into a large, shallow pit close to the river. The area around the pit had been molded to allow even Optimus to roll freely in the sparkling crystal dust, which meant Ratchet had more than enough space to sprawl as much as he pleased. Since there was no natural source for the crystal sand to form itself, the task of refilling the pit fell to the clan, and by Optimus’ orders it was done every third lunar cycle.
Five to six breems later, when Ratchet shook the last of the sparkling crystal sand off, he almost felt like a newborn hatchling. Or more like a youngling, he thought wryly. I’m too old to even remember how to be a hatchling anymore.
Beating his wings a few times, the healer rose in the air, using the thermal winds to lift his chassis higher, ignoring the watchful gazes of the Autobots down below. Once the white dragon had reached enough height, Ratchet turned towards the south end of the mountain range, leaving the nesting mountain to hunt. He could have asked for his share from the hunt the cycle ago but Ratchet needed to prove both to the clan and himself that he was fine again.
That, or snap at the next one who’d ask if he was alright, be it the Prime or Bumblebee, Ratchet didn’t care.
It was a beautiful morning and Ratchet didn’t have to fly far before spotting a small heard of technogoats balancing nimbly on one of the high mountains. A quick and silent swoop down with a lightning fast strike, and the white dragon caught a mature technogoat in his claws. Silencing the panicking mechanimal with a swift bite, Ratchet climbed higher to reach the large cliff the healer preferred to use when hunting in this part of the clan’s territory.
The big ledge looked like some big beast had gouged a piece straight out of the mountain side, leaving behind enough space for at least five dragons of the healer’s size. Ratchet landed carefully on the edge, the picking the spot where the morning sun shone the brightest. Settling down, the white healer licked his teeth, the scent of energon in his olfactory sensors only increasing the hunger.
Ratchet had the time to take only one bite, when there were shadows above the healer and the ground shook slightly as another dragon landed on the cliff.
Snarling out of instinct, Ratchet spun around to give a piece of his mind to the dragon and ready to protect the kill if necessary. However, Ratchet’s intentions came into a processor-screeching halt, when a large, freshly killed turbobison was dropped right in front of him, followed by a relatively smaller, electrogazelle. Blinking, the befuddled healer raised his optics to see a grinning Sideswipe and a frowning Sunstreaker.
“Morning, Ratchet,” Sideswipe greeted cheerfully, looking mighty pleased with himself as he rested one black paw on the dead turbobison, “your clan has good hunting grounds. We haven’t had this kind of prey in lunar cycles.”
“Really now,” Ratchet commented warily, inwardly impressed at the two dragons’ hunting success.
One needed to be fast and agile to catch a technogazelle, as the lithe mechanimal used unpredictable zigzag patterns to escape from any hunters. In whole clan there were only three dragons that outmatched technogazelles, when it came to speed and agility: Jazz, Mirage and Blurr, the latter having left the clan with a small group of specifically selected Autobots vorns ago.
When it came to turbobisons, the hunting strategy was the opposite. A good hunting partner was the key element, especially when bringing down a turbobison as big as the brothers had caught. It wasn’t an easy task to separate a turbobison from a herd, and the brutal strength and fierce nature the large mechanimals possessed was often more than one dragon could handle alone.
Ratchet shook his wings, conscious of his own catch next to the brothers’. A technogoat might be a good snack for one adult dragon but nowhere near as energy rich as the younger dragons’ catches for various reasons. The white dragon could almost feel his previous good mood start to diminish as he kept staring at the dead mechanimals.
Still, Sideswipe seemed content with the healer’s response; the red dragon cocked his helm as he took a look at what Ratchet had caught. “I see you had some luck, too, but isn’t one technogoat too little for a still healing dragon like you?” Sideswipe asked politely, which was somewhat ruined by the snort that came from his brother.
“Or perhaps you need your clan do the hunting for you?” Sunstreaker sneered, somehow managing a look that was a combination of smugness and amusement. Without losing the scowl.
Temper caused the grey dorsal spikes to flare and Ratchet pinned the yellow dragon with a hard glare. “Don’t make me give you that lesson, pup,” he growled, shoulders squaring even as the red and white wings rustled in annoyance. “You may have won over idiot Decepticon but your luck might turn any solar cycle.”
“Is that a challenge?” Sunstreaker hissed as his optics lit with indescribable emotions.
Sideswipe, once again, came to stand between them, glaring quite furiously at his brother. Spreading the big red wings wide enough for one of them to cover Ratchet, Sideswipe released a low, vibrating growl deep from his chassis even as his tail swung dangerously. Sunstreaker hissed back, widening his stance as he accepted the challenge. The brothers measured each other, asserting their hierarchy with flared dorsal spikes, puffed out scales and low resonating growls. It was a very dangerous situation to be caught in that was certain. Ratchet made sure not to trigger the two aggressive dragon mechs, even as he followed their interaction with keen interest.
After three tense breems Sunstreaker huffed, breaking the stare to glower down at the dead technogazelle at his feet. Sideswipe relaxed straightaway and returned his attention back to Ratchet, who continued to stay still.
The white healer was once again reminded that the brothers were seasoned fighters, who together could rip Ratchet into shreds if they decided to do so. One against one he might have had the chance, Ratchet was sure of that but wasn’t ready to test it. For that the healer secretly glad that Sideswipe had gained the upper paw of this match. Although it only proved his earlier thoughts that Sideswipe was the more dangerous one of the pair, which truthfully didn’t make Ratchet feel any better.
“We were on our way back, when we noticed you and wondered if you’d like to share our catch with us,” Sideswipe explained with a light tone and a twinkle in his optics that was a complete opposite to the dominating dragon mech he had been a nanoklik ago.
Red and white wings twitched at the unexpected offer. “Why would you want to do that?” Ratchet asked instead, both curious and wary as he took another look at the dead mechanimals just within his reach.
Sharing a kill like this wasn’t common even among the Autobots and behavior like that was usually reserved for courting. This made Ratchet even more cautious, remembering all too well what the red brother had asked him right before Optimus and the others had arrived.
They couldn’t be… could they?
“Come on, we saw how low on energy you were last cycle and I bet you fell straight into recharge without taking a bite of something,” Sideswipe pleaded with a small whine even as Sunstreaker’s optics lifted from the ground to meet the healer's, the intensity in them confirming that he shared his brother’s opinion. “Besides this is too much for just the two of us and I don’t think we should leave what we can’t eat just laying around so that some cyberwolves may find the way to your caves.”
“You could always share it with the clan,” Ratchet suggested, still bit hesitant to take the offer.
“Not a slagging chance,” the yellow dragon declared hotly, raising his helm to look straight at the healer, his faceplates for once free from any arrogance. “We want you to eat. Otherwise we’ll just drop them somewhere in the crystal forest.” Sunstreaker’s optics glowed fiercely as if to dare Ratchet to deny them one more time so that he could do so.
Gaze flickering between the brothers’, Ratchet found he had been verbally cornered. “Fine, fine!” he grumbled finally, “I’ll share it with you two but don’t think this will become a habit.”
Even though his answer was unenthusiastic, Ratchet could not dismiss the small grins that spread on both of the brothers’ faceplates as he took a step closer. But when the older dragon bent down to sniff the technogazelle, he missed the small, victorious flash in both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s optics.
If Ratchet had seen that flash, he would have felt more troubled than disgruntled.
** ** **
The Autobots were surprised but mostly pleased when Sideswipe and Sunstreaker informed them that they had decided to stay longer than just few solar cycles - mostly, since there were some disgruntled voices, namely Cliffjumper. The little dragon was still annoyed by the fact that Sunstreaker had tossed him aside like a databug during their first meeting with the brothers. There was no love from the larger dragon’s side either. Because of the animosity between them, Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper had to be broken apart several times in the future solar cycles when the two stubborn and quickly angered dragons butted their helms.
That duty fell mainly on Prowl and Ironhide but one time Bumblebee had stepped in, the little dragon’s act of courage surprising everyone.
Apart from that there were no real problems between the brothers and the clan.
Curious of the pair, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were often coaxed into telling about their travels, when the clan gathered on the clearing at nightfall to socialize with each other. The red brother was eager to share the stories that frequently seemed far too adventurous to be real and the rolling optics of Sunstreaker only confirmed this. The yellow dragon never corrected the other, though, letting Sideswipe enjoy the attention. The younger Autobots especially were fascinated with Sideswipe’s tales, silencing even the ever bubbling Bluestreak as the grey and red dragon raptly listened how Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had flown all the way to the Rust Sea and met a colossal water dragon called Omega Supreme - a particular detail that made the higher rank shift uneasily and share subtle, meaningful looks.
It was five solar cycles later when Ironhide wanted personally to see just what kind of fighters Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were. The brothers accepted the offer of a friendly spar without hesitation, sharing identical cocky grins as the large black dragon set some rules, like no optic-clawing or whining when - not if - they got their afts handed to them by Ironhide.
Once the word got around that Ironhide was going to fight with the brothers, every single Autobot made sure to be there that morning.
“Be ready to use your skills, healer,” Sunstreaker informed Ratchet haughtily when he spotted the white healer among the watchers.
“Oh, you can count on that, pup,” Ratchet smirked back, the grin only widening, when the yellow dragon visibly stopped, hesitating.
A strong push from Sideswipe startled Sunstreaker from his stupor and the brothers jumped in the air where Ironhide was already flying in lazy circles.
“Two technogoats that Ironhide drags this up to two groons before finishing them,” Smokescreen suggested, the clan’s most notorious dragon nudging Jazz with a devious grin as the three warriors finally met each other high above.
The silvery advisor laughed, and he was not alone. “Oh, Ah dunno, Smokey, they are quite good. Ah’ve seen them hunt; Sunstreaker's very fast while Sideswipe knows a trick or two.”
“You’re joking?! This is Ironhide. The old mech has been teaching younglings to fight longer than those two have known how to fly,” came the mock-shocked shout from Hound, the tracker-hunter’s faceplates split into a wide grin even as Mirage rolled his yellow optics next to him.
The easy banter was interrupted by loud twin roars and everybody quickly looked up to see streaks of red and yellow charging at the big black dot. Ironhide maneuvered in the air with ease despite his bulk, dodging the attack and began his own with a mighty fire ball.
It was a captivating to watch three strong dragon mechs battle and use their skills against each other and soon the clan members were following the spar with whole lot more interest.
Ironhide was fast and often brutal but he had a cunning processor behind the brawn that made him a feared and respected opponent in a battle - even the Decepticons were careful not to take on the hulking black dragon alone. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were young and fast and worked seamlessly together, always knowing where the other was, always using an opening the other created.
They were good but not that good.
“I say he takes those younglings down in next six breems,” Ratchet suddenly announced, breaking the spell that had taken over even him.
“Six breems? Are you sure?” Smokescreen asked, optics gleaming as he did the mental calculations. “Well… It’s bit tight but I accept. Anyone else?”
“Three technogoats that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe last longer than two groons,” Optimus said, the leader’s sudden interested surprising them all.
Ratchet narrowed his optics, displeasure clear in the jarring way his tail moved.
Optics wide, Smokescreen managed to nod.
“Ya really think they can do it?” Jazz asked from Optimus, looking even smaller than usually next to his massive leader. From his bond with Prowl, Jazz was highly aware of his red-horned mate’s keen attention on the spar, and how Prowl was using the opportunity to memorize every single move the brothers did for possible future use.
Optimus cocked his helm downwards and just offered a secretive grin.
** ** **
In the end Ratchet was proved to be both right and wrong.
The spar had lasted well over two groons, making Optimus the winner of the little betting pool. When Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had finally submitted to Ironhide, all three of them had been covered in burns and slashes.
The sight of the trio had nearly sent Ratchet into a fit. Then again, I should have known better, the healer had thought bitterly, when he had herded them into his large cave.
“Stop moving,” Ratchet ordered as he inspected the burn Ironhide had managed to land on at the base of Sunstreaker’s right wing joint, where the strong limb was attached to the yellow dragon’s shoulder.
Sunstreaker, clearly irritated at his and Sideswipe’s loss, ignored the order and pushed himself away from the healer. He had taken maybe one or two steps, when something hard connected with the back of his helm, making the yellow dragon stumble.
“I said, stop moving, you little Pit spawn!” Ratchet yelled right in to Sunstreaker’s audio, the smooth piece of metal he had thrown at the yellow dragon falling on the floor with a dull clang.
For a moment Sunstreaker really did freeze, jaw hanging open as he stared at the healer in shock. He got over it fast, though, when his ringing audios caught a chuckle from the side. Glaring murderously at his laughing brother and the equally amused Ironhide next to Sideswipe, Sunstreaker growled “shut up, glitch” to the red dragon before wincing as Ratchet spread medical salve over the scald marks.
“This should make your self-repair nanites heal faster but don’t go flying the rest of the cycle and if you even think about breaking my orders, this wound will be the least of your worries,” Ratchet swore darkly, optics ablaze as he turned towards the still chortling Sideswipe. “What are you grinning at? Get your aft here!”
Blinking, the red dragon meekly approached the healer, which in turn made Sunstreaker chuckle shortly, a sound Ratchet realized he hadn’t heard before. The deep, melodious laugh caused the red and white dragon pause, sending a tingling sensation all over his chassis. Frowning at the odd reaction, Ratchet decided to ponder it later as he started to circle Sideswipe, looking for any wound or burns on the shiny scales.
He soon found sluggishly dribbling energon and followed it to four nasty looking claw marks on the left inner thigh, where the white scales were pinkish with the oozing liquid.
“Roll on to your back and spread your legs,” Ratchet ordered brusquely, raking his processor in for the best medicine to use in such tricky place.
Sideswipe blinked. “Uh, what?” he asked, optics wide.
Ratchet merely huffed in annoyance.
“Primus, do I have to repeat everything today?” he growled and bodily forced Sideswipe to the ground, sparing a glare for Ironhide. “I blame you for this; how on Cybertron did you slash him there?”
The black dragon merely shrugged. “Lucky hit, although I was aiming for something else,” Ironhide added with a feral grin that made Sideswipe whimper and Sunstreaker tuck instinctively his tail between the yellow thighs.
“Why am I not surprised?” Ratchet muttered as he picked up one of the few crystal jars that held his medicine before turning back at Sideswipe. “Well? I’m waiting.”
Glancing at his brother, Sideswipe obediently rolled around, opening his back legs wider than they’d normally be in such a position. Huffing, Ratchet lowered the crystal jar on the ground and bent closer to the wound.
A loud yelp echoed in the cave, and the healer had to hastily to back off so that he wouldn’t be kicked in the faceplates.
“What the slag?!” Sideswipe cried, shocked and not so a little embarrassed, “you licked me?!”
“Idiot, I need to clean the wound before adding the medicine,” Ratchet snapped back, wings twitching from unease for almost losing his optics because of Sideswipe’s violent reaction, “I suppose I should have warned you.”
Sunstreaker snorted. “You suppose?” he stretched the word, although the yellow dragon’s attention was raptly on his squirming brother and the upset healer.
“Better get used to it, if you need Ratchet’s care again, youngling,” Ironhide muttered wryly as he turned to leave since he had already gotten his share of Ratchet’s tender mercies. “He rarely tells any of his patients what he does, which is why Red Alert hates coming here with his entire spark. Smart youngling, if you ask me, just like his carrier.”
“I heard that!” Ratchet yelled after the old warrior, who hastily disappeared out of the cave before the healer could do anything, namely throw something at Ironhide. Shaking his helm with a mutter, the red and white dragon turned back to the silent Sideswipe, halting at the calculating expression on the pale grey faceplates. “What?” Ratchet demanded, unnerved by the intense stare directed at him.
The expression was gone as soon as Ratchet barked the question and was replaced by a mischievous grin. “Oh nothing,” the red dragon hummed innocently, “shall we continue?”
Suspicious, Ratchet slowly returned to his task. After cleaning the wounds with few effective licks, the healer reached again for the crystal jar. Pouring some of the dark blue and thick fluid on to his paw, Ratchet carefully covered all of the wounds with the medicine before announcing he was done. Sideswipe deftly rolled back on to his feet but instead of leaving with his brother, the two dragons stayed put and watched as the healer approached a small hollowing on the wall where the rest of glittering jars rested.
Sensing the heavy gazes, Ratchet twisted his neck, raising one of his optic ridges inquiringly. “Was there something else you two needed?” he asked impatiently.
“You know, if you wanted to put your paws on us, all you would have to do was to ask,” Sideswipe suddenly said with a low purr even as Sunstreaker bared his teeth in a predatory grin.
“We are more than willing for that and more,” the yellow dragon rumbled.
Ratchet blinked, the jar almost slipping from the red paw as he processed what had been said.
The brothers saw how the healer’s frame stiffened and how the dorsal spikes flared upwards. A low rumble, like from an oncoming thunderstorm, reached Sideswipe and Suntreaker’s audios as the healer carefully placed the jar on the cave floor. The deep growl wasn’t what they really had been hoping for but it was something, the ripples of anticipation passing between the brothers.
Then Ratchet exploded - both in action and words.
“OUT! You glitchmice fragging Pit-rejected slaggers, get. Out. NOW!!” Ratchet roared optics almost white as he whirled around to chase away the yellow and red dragons, the brothers scrambling over each other to escape from the healer’s wrath.
Wheeljack heard the commotion before seeing it and managed to jump away in the nick of time when two blurs shot out of the cave and down the mountain. The grey and white dragon couldn’t help but snicker when Ratchet followed them, hot on the brothers’ tails, spewing both fire and curses after the escaping dragons.
“Well, there’s something I haven’t seen in vorns,” Wheeljack mused as he watched the white dragon take air and make deadly dives at the still running Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.
There was a loud squawk from one of the brothers, before the pair made it to the safety of the crystal forest, indicating that the irate healer had managed to land a hit. Even though Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were now out of sight, Ratchet kept circling above the glittering forest like the dangerous predator he was. It would take a long time before the brothers would be able to venture out from their impromptu haven.
“What was that?!”
Wheeljack turned his gaze away from the angered healer at the bewildered gasp to see a gaping Inferno. Next to the massive dragon stood Jazz, the small advisor laughing so hard he visibly struggled to stay on his legs.
“That, my young friend, was the Wronged Hatchet, the most dangerous Autobot in the whole clan,” Wheeljack informed as seriously as possible. With that, he left the puzzled Inferno alone with still howling Jazz, who finally collapsed on the ground.
** ** **
Despite the brothers driving Ratchet into the brink of madness, the little sparring match had some positive consequences; Mirage finally decided to challenge Hound into the long-awaited domination fight. The green tracker-hunter eagerly accepted the challenge, and the white and blue dragon chased the larger one out of the mountain to somewhere private to settle things. They were not seen for several solar cycles.
Also, the red and yellow brothers started to spend more time with the younger, unmated Autobots. Even Sunstreaker seemed to find some kind of confidante in the colorful Tracks. Prowl did keep a sharp optic on Sunstreaker, though. The yellow dragon was often seen with Bluestreak, and the black and white advisor’s protective protocols engaged because of his worry for his beloved little brother. Although it was rather ironic that Sideswipe found a companion in Smokescreen, who happened to be both Prowl and Bluestreak’s brother but from a much older clutch.
But, as the solar cycles went on, it became clear that neither Sunstreaker nor Sideswipe were really interested in any of the younger Autobots. Not in the way some had been hoping for.
No, the brothers had someone else on their minds.
And the proof of that appeared out of the blue fifteen solar cycles after the clan had met the two for the first time:
Ratchet was startled from his recharge by an unexpected thump! of something heavy hitting the cave floor.
The healer blearily raised his helm up. The blurry optics spotted something beige-plated in front of him, which might have been the reason behind the sudden noise. Blinking, the healer managed to concentrate his gaze to make out the still cooling technogazelle that somehow had ended up in his cave.
Ratchet inhaled to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. But instead of the smell of fresh energon, Ratchet’s olfactory sensors were overpowered by the rich scent of another dragon, or more precisely two particular dragons. Shaking off last of the recharge, Ratchet practically jumped onto his feet when he saw Sideswipe and Sunstreaker standing in his cave, both wearing twin expressions of smugness.
“Morning, Ratchet~,” Sideswipe chirped gleefully, nudging the greying technogazelle with the tip of his snout, “we brought you something to eat since you didn’t get your share last cycle.”
“I still say they should have gone after turbobisons and not technodeers,” Sunstreaker muttered, critically observing his energon splattered paws before the yellow dragon unceremoniously laying down to clean himself. “Hunting them might take more energy but you get to have more than just two bites. Your leader alone could eat a whole turbobison and still have more.”
Ratchet was speechless, which didn’t occur often. The red and white dragon kept opening and closing his mouth, optics flying wildly from the dead mechanimal to still grinning Sideswipe, and then from him to the indifferent Sunstreaker. From the yellow brother his gaze went back to the technogazelle, before repeating the whole cycle again. It was true that he hadn’t had his share of the kill, since the hunting party hadn’t been able to catch enough for everybody. Ratchet had, despite Optimus’ protests, gruffly told the others to eat as the healer had retreated to his cave, thinking he’d go hunting himself in the morning.
He hadn’t seen either Sunstreaker or Sideswipe at the platform but that had not been out of the ordinary. The brothers preferred to make themselves scarce when the hunters returned - Prowl had openly suspected it was because they didn’t want to make the Autobots feel like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe should be included in the sharing.
This meant that they had overheard someone talking about Ratchet’s decision, and that someone was most likely -
Frowning, Ratchet stared the yellow brother. “Did you listen to Bluestreak’s babbles again?”
The haughtier brother stopped his grooming to look levelly at the older dragon. Sunstreaker, not the in slightest bit embarrassed, nodded curtly.
“He also told me this has happened before,” the yellow dragon answered back defiantly. “What use is of a healer that doesn’t look after himself? Of all dragons, you should know better.”
“So you two decided it was your right to go and hunt for me? I’m not some hatchling, I can look after myself!”
“Oh, we know you’re no hatchling,” Sunstreaker drawled darkly, the bright blue of his optics suddenly deepening.
Rising gracefully onto his feet, the sleeker dragon stepped over the technogazelle, closing the distance between him and the white healer, coming so close that his pale grey snout almost touched Ratchet’s pearly white one. Ratchet, dorsal spikes flaring nervously, could feel all but feel the warmth radiating from the strong frame, his core temperature spiking at Sunstreaker’s sudden nearness.
“We smelled you that solar cycle - long before we even heard your fight with that Windseeker - and we got curious,” Sunstreaker purred, inhaling deep to emphasis his point and the grey spikes on the older dragon’s spine shook, the white tail stilling in mid-air. “And, as a healer, you know what it means when an unmated dragon receives kills like this from another unmated dragon, don’t you? Ratchet?”
Later on Ratchet would realize it had been the very first time Sunstreaker had called him by his designation but at that the moment he was too nervous to notice. Unfortunately every time Ratchet got out of his comfort zone, he lashed out.
“Back off, you arrogant glitch, I have no time for your hatchling games,” Ratchet growled, his whole frame adopting a threatening posture with wings hiked up and scale plating puffed out.
“We are not playing, Ratchet,” Sideswipe cut in, his normally playful voice dead serious and another first the healer could count witnessing in such short time. “We are serious about this.”
“Serious about what?” Ratchet gritted through his teeth, although deep down there was a small part of him that already knew what they were talking about, and he was both dreading and craving to hear Sideswipe’s next words:
“We want to court you.”
** ** **
Wheeljack was highly amused as he watched Ratchet to pace back and forth in front of the healer’s personal cave, muttering the foulest curses at each sharp turn. The lounging grey and white dragon was careful not to show his glee, the flickering tail tucked out of his friend’s sight just in case. The black dragon sitting on his haunches next to Wheeljack had no such qualms. Ironhide smirked openly as Ratchet’s spine spikes rose and lowered, the healer’s wings twitching and tail whipping in open irritation.
The cause of Ratchet’s bad mood lay innocently on the ground between the three of clan elders.
“I think it’s nice, right, ‘Jack?” Ironhide drawled, optics glinting in a rare sight of mischief as he glanced at the dragon next to him, who nodded eagerly. “Very traditional one, too.”
“Oh yes, but very hard to find, though; I wonder where they managed to get it?” Wheeljack asked conversationally, as if they were talking about something mundane like the last hunt’s success or how Smokescreen had yet again won in a game of technodeer antlers.
Anything else than the large, crimson-colored crystal, which was the latest courting gift from Ratchet’s suitors.
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had been bringing kills and other sorts of offerings to the healer for the past twelve solar cycles. The crimson crystal was so far the most impressive one, though, such deep and flawless coloring indicated it was one of the rarest of its kind. The crystal’s appearance also explained where the brothers had disappeared to for a whole solar cycle the dark cycle before.
“I don’t care if they found it in the deepest gorges of Kaon, I don’t want it! I don’t want any of this!” Ratchet hissed, whirling around to glare at them. Ironhide and Wheeljack had expected to see anger but instead of it the healer’s optics showed panic and something akin to a fear.
That sobered up the other two instantly, mild worry replacing any glee they had been feeling at Ratchet’s expense.
“Ratchet…,” Wheeljack murmured as the white healer collapsed ungracefully on the ground, covering the white faceplates with his red paws. “It can’t be that bad to be courted by them.”
“You don’t understand, Wheeljack,” Ratchet muttered, frustrated, “we are old, older than most here - Pit, I can remember the time when Optimus was nothing but a gangly youngling and most of the current clan weren’t allowed to leave their creators’ nests. They - they’re young, just matured mechs. Why would they want to court a half-rusted dragon like me?”
Ironhide snorted, fire flickering from his nostrils. “Now listen to me, Ratchet,” the black dragon growled gravelly. “We might be old but this is not the first unusual courting we have seen. Or have you already forgotten about Red Alert and Inferno? Red Alert was barely through his first heat when Inferno showed up and Red decided to claim him. And now they’re bondmates.”
Ratchet’s harsh glare softened slightly, and Ironhide bent his neck, rubbing his scarred helm comfortingly against the brooding healer’s. “There’s no harm in finding out what it would be like to have one of them as your nestmate for one nesting season,” Ironhide continued with a low voice. “There might not even be a clutch, since they’re so young.”
“Don’t you mean because I’m so old?” Ratchet spat bitterly, finally removing the paws.
They could see emotions swirling in the anguished healer’s optics, clawing their way across Ratchet’s white faceplates, several of them easily recognizable; anger, fear, regret.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Ratchet,” Wheeljack murmured, settling down next to the larger dragon, one tattered wing spreading over the folded red and white ones.
Wheeljack only became more worried when Ratchet leaned into the soothing gesture, the other two dragons realizing at just how bothered Ratchet was with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s interest. The black dragon followed Wheeljack’s example, one large black and grey wing covering almost both of the smaller dragons. Ironhide and Wheeljack chose to ignore when Ratchet reached for the large crystal or how the color matched perfectly the red scales as claws ran across the sparkling surface.
Instead they kept an optic on any flash of red and yellow, acting as their friend’s guards for the moment.
Ratchet felt a tad guilty for making his friends worry but he hadn’t felt this confused in ages. The ache in his frame and almost notable change in his scent because of the slowly activating mating protocols only added to the mess. It had been vorns since matters like courting and nesting had bothered Ratchet personally. He freely admitted that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were both handsome dragons with beautiful frames as well as successful hunters - they brought a kill for the healer almost every other cycle. They were strong fighters that would most likely sire - or carry - strong clutches and fiercely protect their hatchlings and mate from anything even slightly harmful.
But why they are both doing the courting? Ratchet wondered, optics narrowing.
Yes, that was a good question that he hadn’t really pondered. As an apprentice he had met trines but that kind of mating ritual was more common among Windseekers, although even they took a fourth nestmate for one or two nesting seasons.
But trines among outside Windseekers?
Ratchet had not heard of nor seen one since the territorial war between the Autobots and the Decepticons began. So why did Sideswipe and Sunstreaker want one? They were very close, closer than most siblings, which must have been a result of their harsh life, where the only dragon one could truly trust was your own brother.
So this brought another question: did Ratchet want to be a nestmate in a trine?
Honestly, the healer didn’t know.
** ** **
Early the next morning, Jazz and Smokescreen rode on the thermal winds, gliding lazily through the skies as they patrolled on the edges of the Autobot territory far in the south end of Mountains of Iacon. They were discussing the most recent events in their clan, like who was going to be the carrier of Mirage and Hound’s clutch, as the pair had returned two solar cycles ago. The positively smug mech dragons had refused to say a word to the curious Autobots despite their prying. The other interesting topic was how long until Ratchet snapped and challenged Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to a domination fight just to get rid of them for once and all.
It was a pity, since their courting provided such amusement to the rest of the clan.
“Ah’m telling ya, those two won’t know what hit them when ol’ Hatchet is through with them,” Jazz cackled, doing some somersaults in the air just for the fun of it.
“Do you think they’ll leave if one of them loses?” Smokescreen asked the valid question, optics following a flock of cybergeese far below them. It would be so easy to swoop down and catch a small snack but he wasn’t that low on energy just yet.
Jazz righted himself, silver scales gleaming in the sunlight as the advisor’s carefree expression sobered. “Yeah, Ah think so,” he admitted thoughtfully. “They’ve rogues and proud ones at that. Ah don’t think rejection from Hatchet would make them eager to stay any longer.”
The mostly blue dragon snorted. “Well, at least Prowl will have one less worry,” Smokescreen added almost evilly. “It is rather amusing to watch him act like a first-time carrier with Bluestreak, although Blue could hit his first heat any cycle now. You should give him something else to fret about. You know: do your duty as a bondmate.”
“What? Ya want some little hatchlings to corrupt, Smokey?” Jazz laughed, “Prowler will kill ya if ya teach our offspring to cheat in a game of technodeer antlers.”
Smokescreen grinned, raising his helm to look at the smaller dragon. “Maybe, but you have to admit that - JAZZ, DUCK!”
The sudden roar surprised the silver dragon, but Jazz folded his wings without question. The smaller dragon immediately plummeted out of the way as Smokescreen released a scorching fire at Ravage who had appeared behind Jazz. The little black pest snarled as the fire singed him and hastily backed off as Smokescreen lunged toward it.
“Ravage!” Smokescreen snarled, drawing his wings closer to his chassis to gain the speed to chase the little Decepticon. “Look out for Soundwave and the others!”
“On it!” Jazz shouted back, already scanning the skies around them before spotting the familiar dark blue dragon who had two smaller ones circling around him.
Behind them were several other dragons, most notably a particular silvery and black dragon who could be seen so clearly because of his massive size.
“Scrap, it’s Megatron and rest of the ‘cons,” Jazz cursed, twisting swiftly around, “fall back, Smokey, we need to warn the others!”
Growling darkly after the retreating Ravage, Smokescreen reluctantly turned to follow Jazz as they flew as fast as possible back to the mountain.
** ** **
Unaware of the incoming fight, Ratchet was on his way to meet Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.
Earlier in the cycle he had had a brief meeting with Mirage and Hound, and the discussion with the newly mated pair had given Ratchet the need to set things straight once and for all.
The healer made his way to the cave the brothers had taken as their own, finding both of them lounging outside. The two large frames were curled against each other as they enjoyed the sun. Sideswipe napped, his black-horned helm resting on the ground. Sunstreaker had his optics closed, too, but they opened immediately as his audios caught the sound of someone approaching.
Wordlessly, the yellow dragon turned to wake his brother with a gentle nudge and a quiet rumble. It was so at odds with the usually harsh and sometimes cruel behavior Sunstreaker had showed during the past lunar cycle that Ratchet slowed down in surprise. Sideswipe whined in his recharge, murmuring something under his breath that prompted the other to nip his ear.
“Wake up, Sides,” Sunstreaker huffed, but his voice held no irritation, just brotherly affection.
“Whuh? Sunny?” Sideswipe asked, blinking blearily as he tried to regain his senses. The red brother raised his helm and cocked it like a hatchling, as if to ask why he had been woken up.
“It’s Sunstreaker, glitch, and Ratchet’s here,” the yellow dragon corrected with a slightly dejected sigh, and Ratchet tried to ignore the flutter in his spark when his designation was spoken by that deep voice.
“Ratch?” Sideswipe repeated sleepily, shaking his helm before the optics brightened enough to indicate that Sideswipe was once again functional. “Uh, hey? Did you like the crystal?” he asked, suddenly sounding a bit nervous while Sunstreaker’s tail started to twitch along the yellow wings.
“It was…”
Words like ‘beautiful’, ‘amazing’ and ‘no one has ever given me something like that’ flashed in his processor but he couldn’t really use them because that would only work against him.
“… pleasant,” Ratchet finally finished, careful to keep his faceplates as impassive as possible.
“Just ‘pleasant’?” Sideswipe inquired tentatively, clearly disappointed at the lack of reaction.
Sunstreaker said nothing but his tail’s violent move behind the brothers did all the talking.
“Yes, that’s right,” Ratchet repeated determinedly. He steeled himself for any violent reactions, since it was an option when it came to these two. “I’ve come to talk about this so called courting,” he began, not missing the way they both tensed, optics brightening in such clear expectation that for a moment Ratchet almost felt sorry for them. “I came to tell you that you two need to stop.”
Just like the healer had predicted, his words prompted a strong reaction from the younger dragons.
“What?!” Sideswipe yelped, jumping lightning fast onto his feet, and Sunstreaker followed his brother just as fast. “But why? We know - “
“What’s this slag, healer?” Sunstreaker spat the normally respectful title like it was poison. “Do you think it’s easy to hunt a technogazelle - “
“ - aren’t from your clan, but we thought proving ourselves such as the traditions demand was enough but I - “
“ - that we like to fly back and forth across these mountains, for several solar cycles, that it was fun that my claws broke when we dug out that slagging crystal - “
“ - even asked from Smokescreen if you Autobots had some special courting rules, and he reassured me that they didn’t!“
“ -maybe we should have just skipped the courting and challenged you right away into a domination fight like that Windseeker!”
Ratchet felt like his audios were going to split at the sudden assault of panicked yelps and angry growls. He tried to listen what was being said, but Sideswipe and Sunstreaker spoke over each other so he managed only to understand a word here and there. What really caught his attention what was said last, though.
“You did what? No, wait, you said what?!” Ratchet snarled, not sure which one of the aft-helmed slaggers he should hit first as he glared at them. “Now listen to me, fraggers, I told you from the very beginning that I had no time for your games.”
“And we told you that this is no game,” Sunstreaker snarled right back, big wings hiked up and spread wide in the air in a display of his irritation.
“Sunstreaker’s right, Ratchet,” Sideswipe rumbled. He was not as visibly frustrated as his brother but there was no trace of his usual cheerfulness either. “We are serious.”
“But why are both of you doing the courting?” the red and white dragon cried in frustration.
That earned a different kind of response from the brothers, quickly stopping the situation from escalating into something dangerous. Two pairs of optics blinked before Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared a puzzled look with each other.
“Because we’re brothers,” Sideswipe said merely, cocking his helm like it was obvious.
A furious growl from the healer quickly said that that had not been the right answer. It was Sunstreaker, who understood what Ratchet was asking for. He rolled his optics and released a deep sigh, earning a curious look from the red dragon.
“We’re twins,” Sunstreaker enlightened Ratchet, and watched how the information sank into the older dragon, “carried from the same egg, bonded together by our sparks from the very moment we hatched.”
Now it was Ratchet’s turn to be perplexed, his baffled expression quickly morphing into a shocked one as his healer’s processor went into over-drive. His optics scanned Sideswipe and Sunstreaker from the tip of their snouts to end of their tails and it was like Ratchet saw the two young dragon mechs for the very first time.
Twins.
Honest to Primus twins!
He had heard stories as an apprentice healer, about the abnormally shaped eggs that had produced two hatchlings instead of one. But Ratchet had not actually met twins until now.
This also explained a lot of things; the unusual closeness Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared compared to Prowl, Smokescreen and Bluestreak, and how they managed to be such a successful hunting pair and formidable fighters.
The reason had to because of rumored twin bond, Ratchet deduced, a bond that was rumored to be very similar to a sparkbond but even more intense since they were practically one spark split into two, one twin always sharing what the other twin did, be it pain or pleasure, anger or sorrow, hate or love. It would only be natural that twins would be attracted to same dragon, their feelings easily overlapping each other’s.
Which meant Ratchet was slagged.
To have one courting dragon was bad enough but to have twins that backed each other up in sheer stubbornness that would easily rival even the most hard-helmed suitor, there was no way to escape.
“B-but I’m old, older than both of you together!” Ratchet protested indignantly, grasping at straws in his desperation. “Surely you two could find a more suitable nestmate?!”
Sunstreaker snorted, calmed just enough to silence the aggressive growls and fold his wings once more. “That’s not a problem for me or Sideswipe, healer,” he huffed, looking far too pleased as his optics raked over the white and red chassis. “True, you are quite old for our first nestmate but we don’t slagging care about something insignificant like age-difference. We know from experience that you’re a strong fighter as well as a skillful, if a bit violent, healer and that you don’t take slag from anyone.”
“And you are cute, too,” Sideswipe chirped, grinning audaciously despite the hiss he received from the harried healer.
“Besides, you can’t be that old if your mating protocols are preparing for a heat just right before nesting season,” the yellow twin pointed out smugly. “So, do we need to say more or should we just show you how serious we are?” Sunstreaker purred darkly and Sideswipe enthusiastically agreed with his brother, by reflecting his predatory grin perfectly.
“No, you can’t - I, I won’t allow this“, Ratchet stumbled on his words in his anger, confusion, shaking his helm even as he started to back away. That turned out to be the wrong thing to do.
Sideswipe moved in an instant, jaws clamping down on a wingtip but not hard enough to penetrate the vulnerable membrane, the icy-blue optics blazing with mixed emotions such as determination, nervousness and fear. Sunstreaker was equally fast, growling so low from his chassis that it vibrated the through the air and right into Ratchet’s pale grey chest plates. The yellow dragon came so close that the healer had to bend his neck backwards to keep their snouts touching as Ratchet got once again reminded that the twins were bigger than him even if just a little.
“Stop fighting, Ratchet,” Sunstreaker murmured quietly, his gaze mirroring that of his brother, yet there was a glimmer of hope in the swirling depths of bright blue. “We have done what the traditions demand and you have accepted our courting, don’t try to deny it. Let’s finish this as it should be done.”
For a moment all three stood absolutely still, Sunstreaker and Ratchet’s optics locked together. And something, like missing piece of a complex puzzle, clicked into its right place.
Snarling, Ratchet struck out, trying to claw the yellow twin’s faceplates, missing them by a fraction as Sunstreaker swiftly darted away. Sideswipe released his hold on the wing as the healer’s dual-barbed tail hit the red dragon’s shoulder. The brothers fell back to stand side by side, cautious but also excited as they watched the crouched red and white dragon glare at them, smoldering flames licking the pearly white jaws. Ratchet inhaled deeply, his chassis expanding visibly before releasing a thundering roar that bounced off the cliffs, wordlessly declaring his challenge to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The twins accepted it with their own audio-deafening roars.
Roused by the noise, Autobots rushed to witness the end of what had become one the clan’s strangest, yet most interesting courting in its long history.
Optimus stood with Ironhide and Red Alert, the massive leader’s blue neck spikes rising and the giant wings moving restlessly. The instinct to protect his fellow clan member stirred Optimus’ spark as he watched Ratchet attack the two younger dragons helm-on. It might have looked like a reckless move, since Sunstreaker and Sideswipe easily split apart so that the red and white clan elder harmlessly passed them but the Autobots knew their healer.
Cliffjumper cheered with shameless glee when Ratchet twisted sideways in mid-air, hitting Sideswipe with all his weight. The momentum sent the red brother rolling down the mountain and Ratchet gave Sideswipe extra push as he used the red brother’s chassis as leverage to fling himself backwards and straight into Sunstreaker.
Falling into a heap of limbs and wings, Ratchet quickly used the yellow twin’s disorientation to gain the upper paw, twisting and turning until the younger dragon was half-under him. Jaws snapping and snarling viciously, Sunstreaker trashed and bucked, the fins on his tail spreading as the strong appendage snaked around Ratchet’s, the sharp needle-like spikes scratching the white scales. Sunstreaker fought viciously and managed to get his legs underneath his chassis; the yellow dragon kicked the healer off his back with a move similar to the one the healer had used on him all those solar cycles ago.
Ratchet spread his wings to stop himself from hitting the ground, tail flashing out to grab a hold of a big chuck of metal hurl it towards the still grounded Sunstreaker. A wave of sympathetic cringes went through the Autobots when the projectile hit the yellow dragon right in the middle of his fore helm. Sunstreaker fell down clutching his helm, snarling and hissing curses at the healer.
Beating his wings twice to gain more height, Ratchet barely had a nanoklik to breathe before he was attacked from behind by Sideswipe, the red twin having been able to stop his rolling before going all the way down to the crystal forest. Sideswipe tried to grab the red and white wings, to force the healer back on the ground but Ratchet evaded all of his attempts with his many vorns of experience. In turn, the older dragon tried to use his skills to dislocate a joint from a shoulder or from a back leg and even from the red tail.
The aerial dance turned into an even more impressive set of dives and swoops and near misses when Sunstreaker got his bearings together and shot into the sky, too.
“Optimus!”
The huge dragon’s attention was torn from the intense domination fight by Prowl’s unusually distressed call. He watched the agitated black and white dragon stumble as he landed, the elegance the advisor normally held forgotten.
“What is it, Prowl?” Optimus asked worriedly, fearing that he already knew the answer for his own question.
“The Decepticons are coming from the south; the whole clan has been sighted and Megatron is leading the way,” Prowl spoke hastily. The dual-colored wings trembled as the bond between him and Jazz was open to the fullest. Pulses of love, reassurance and slivers of worry were sent back and forth between the two mates.
“We need to defend the mountain, Prime!” Ironhide demanded, barely noticing the sudden appearance of Inferno, the red and black dragon summoned there by his mate’s distress.
“I know,” the largest of the five dragons rumbled, energon starting to run faster in his fuel lines as his instinct to protect his clan truly reared its helm. His optics turned back to the still battling Ratchet, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, regret in the blue gaze. “I’m sorry, old friend,” Optimus murmured and inhaled deeply.
The roar that left the massive dragon’s mouth echoed throughout the proudly standing mountains, louder than any other dragon living dragon, scaring all wildlife surrounding red and blue and white leader. The sound demanded respect and obedience from those who heard the call. It was a roar that could easily make his enemies cower in fear and inspire the utter loyalty of those who followed Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots of the Mountains.
That loyalty was what cut through Ratchet’s haziness, his usually cunningly sharp processor reduced to its most raw and primitive protocols the healer had engaged the very moment he had initiated the domination fight. The white dragon saw his whole clan gather around their leader, answering to his authority without a question. Ratchet watched them rise in the air with Optimus on his rightful place at the front as the clan flew south. Conflicted by his sworn duty and the equally demanding need to finish the domination fight, Ratchet turned his helm away from the quickly distancing clan to the tense Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They too were affected by the entrancing call of Optimus Prime.
With a spark-wrenching cry that split the air Ratchet made his decision.
He flew to his clan.
TBC...
** ** ** **
A/N: Soo... Who thought for a one second that Ratchet would abandon his clan? Yeah, didn't think so. XD