1. A song...
Comfortably Numb- Live by Pink Floyd. Lyrics
here.
--- And for everyone's amusement...
Transformers do Gangnam Style. Alludes to Optimus/Elita, but no other pairings. Despite this, it's pretty amusing so highly recommended if you have a chance to watch
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While his hands reached for parts and tools as if on autopilot as his spark *twisted* in his chest with fear and worry. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe came back wounded too often, taking too much damage on the field. Once upon a time, when they had been stupidly ignorant and young he had railed at them for every idiotic stunt they pulled in the field. Now, they were wiser, not by much but they took fewer stupid risks... barely.
They still had too many dumb stunts that landed them right here again and again. Ratchet huffed, optics crinckled with silent fear as once more he tried to save his favorite idiots from the Unmaker's grasp.
In his processors a silent mantra repeated itself, 'One more time, Primus, just let me save them one more time.' Taking a deep invent Ratchet took inventory of their injuries and huffed indignantly. They weren't *that* badly injured! He was, like ususal with his idiots, overreacting.
'Which is why I can never admit I care for them,' Ratchet thought to himself as his movements relaxed and his snarled yelling petered out. What had he even been yelling this time? He frankly stopped caring long ago. Calmer, Ratchet continued his thought. 'If I'm this much of a basket case for non-life threatening injuries, I would become a liability if they were worse.' The thought made his spark ache enough to still his intakes. He loved the pair under his hands - and he could never tell them.
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"Ratchet?" Wheeljack looked up, concerned at the sudden silence.
"I'm fine." Shaking his head, Ratchet refocussed his attention on the work at hand. Once they were fixed, he could muse on that realisation. And decide what he could or couldn't do.
"Guh, did anyone get the license plate of the truck that hit me?" Sideswipe groaned.
"Devastator." Sideswipe smiled, even though his optics were offline. That voice was as familliar to him as his own brother's.
"Ratch'..."
"Don't you 'Ratch'' me." Ratchet growled and Sideswipe onlined his optics in alarm. He could feel Sunstreaker's steady presence in his spark, so that wasn't the problem. He turned his head to find Ratchet sitting at the side of his berth, looking far worse than he'd ever seen the medic look.
"Ratch'?" This time, Sideswipe's voice was full of concern.
"You two don't even have any idea, do you?" Was Ratchet's muttered reply.
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As if listening to Sideswipe's wildly spinning thoughts Ratchet levered himself to his pedes with a muffled grunt and a soft groan of overtaxed hip servos. "You two keep throwing yourselves into the line of fire, and i get to weld back the pieces." Ratchet sighted looking distantly to the side of his bay and some image only his optics could fathom. "Optimus needs every soldier he has, you two especially."
Behind him, glancing at one another nervously the twins felt that there was something he they had missed. "Ratch?" Sideswipe sat up slowly, testing new welds as he moved. Worry began blooming anew when Ratchet failed to yell at him to stay still. "We just lost energon pressure and went in stasis." It was a common enough event with the battles they fought. The occurrence was so regular they didn't even have to submit event reports to Prowl any more.
"I know," Ratchet huffed dryly, wondering how he could make the slagging morons take better care of themselves - especially for the selfish reason of keeping his own processor sane.
"But?" Sunstreaker prompted when the silence had stretched on, letting the medic sort his thoughts before speaking.
"But nothing, just take bette care of yourselves." Ratchet snarled, once more sounding like himself despite the broad expanse of white back plating facing them instead of him looming over them like an agent of the Unmaker himself. "Prowl wants you both in his office for debriefing. Get out of here."
Ratchet threw the snarled command over his shoulder with twin optics boring into his back as he stormed to his office and palmed the door shut. "Ratchet, you are a lying coward." He voiced the self accusation as he sat heavily behind his desk, burying his face in his hands as he vented heavily. His voice echoing into the silence of his small office he sighed, "Its just you and me."
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"You're not alone." Sideswipe added. "Not if you don't want to be." Sunstreaker rolled his optics.
"What my idiot brother is trying to say, is that we like you Ratchet."
"Really like you." Sideswipe put in.
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"Uh, yes?" Sideswipe replied with bright, hopeful optics as Sunstreaker's tentative emotions bled from his features.
"Slag, you're serious." Suddenly feeling defeated and helpless Ratchet sank back into his chair, vents hitching in exhaustion.
"You need to take better care of yourself," Sunstreaker's hand appeared in Ratchet's line of sight setting down a cube of medical grade energon.
"Truce?" Sideswipe asked softly at Ratchet's side. The medic looked to the pair once more leaning casually in the doorway, each slowly sipping their cubes.
"So," Ratchet sighed, "How's this supposed to work?"
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"He doesn't mean like that, idiot. I'd think out of all the mechs on the Ark, a medic would know how to do that" Sunstreaker growled. Sideswipe smiled weakly.
"Yeah, well..." Sideswipe glanced at Ratchet, noting the slightly amused expression on the medic's faceplates and deciding that it had been worth it to make a fool of himself. Anything to make Ratchet smile.
"We don't know how it's going to work." Sunstreaker shrugged, moving further in to the office to sit on the chair opposite Ratchet, still a little weary from his recent repairs. Sideswipe perched on the table, close to Ratchet's chair.
"But...?" Ratchet could all but hear the but at the end of Sunstreaker's sentence.
"But we want to make it work." Sideswipe clarified, tapping the side of the energon cube on Ratchet's desk, prompting the medic to pick it up and take a slow sip.
"Both of you?"
"Yes, both of us." They both nodded. "We both like you." Sideswipe added.
"Primus..." Ratchet offlined his optics and downed the rest of his energon. "I don't have the energy for this right now, but we do need to talk."
"But..." Sideswipe all but whined, shutting up as Sunstreaker let out a growl.
"We understand. But you're not alone. We're here, and we want you. However you'll have us." That last bit was so hard for Sunstreaker to say. They both wanted Ratchet as their lover, and he had to hope that this was a step in the right direction.
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"We're annoying?" Sideswipe hazarded, shoulders tense for the terse confirmation the medic was sure to give.
Ratchet snorted, "Wheeljack's annoying, no between two with your jet judo and the rest of the crew trying to one up you, I haven't seen my bunk or left the bay in a couple of days. I'm exhausted."
"Come on then," Sideswipe grinned, hand held out to Ratchet, "We'll walk you to your quarters?" He asked hesitantly, bringing a warm smile to Ratchet's worn features.
"Ah, why not? And you two are restricted to berth rest for one day - no pranks." Ratchet countered as the passed through the late night med bay, empty and humming, as if content to be without patients for now.
They left the bay, walked across the hall to Ratchet's door and paused, the twins glanced at each other, Ratchet stared firmly at the door until it swooshed open with his silent command.
Sunstreaker didn't want to say goodnight, instead he reached into his subspace, pulled out an old data chit, one he was supposed to have submitted to Optimus a long time ago, but never did. He silently held it out to Ratchet, guarded optics watched as the medic took up the small memory drive, and warily connected it to a peripheral port. Instantly Ratchet started, optics widening in surprise.
"Why the slag do you still have this?" bewildered cobalt optics bored into his.
"Call it paying back an I.O.U."
"Uh, what I.O.U?" Sideswipe looked from Ratchet to Sunstreaker, back and forth, curiously, fingers twitching to discover the secret they kept from him.
"I assigned Sunstreaker punishment detail to completely wax and polish Optimus after his first fight with Cliffjumper. I figured after detailing our leader's aft it would drop him down a peg - only Con's reared their ugly heads as usual." Ratchet sighed and shook his helm, then stepped to the side.
"Guess you two can stay in my quarters - if you want," Ratchet looked at the twins, and felt instant unease ice his lines as both grinned with brilliant optics, Sideswipe's gleaming with unsettling intent. "To recharge! You're injured, I'm exhausted - gah!" Ratchet threw his hands up in the air as the unsettling grins only widened. "Goodnight."
Once Ratchet stormed into his quarters the frontliners followed calmly.
Sunstreaker watched as Ratchet collapsed onto the berth, falling into recharge almost instantly. By morning Ratchet's plating would be gleaming, and, for once, the future looked bright.
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