TF: Under Fire
Rating: PG
Series: G1
Pairings: Future Ratchet/Wheeljack
Summary: Wheeljack will always keep an optic on Ratchet, no matter where they are
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten…
Authors Notes: For the tf_speedwriting Wednesday 28th July prompt 1 - In the heat of battle
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
Prompt: 1
Time: 1 hour and 4 minutes… but I did get sidetracked by Ironhide/Ratchet pics on deviantart.
He couldn’t help but keep an optic on the medic. Ever since he’d met Ratchet, he’d been enamored with the cheerful medic. So much so that even in the heat of the battle, his optics kept searching out the boxy white medic. He worried about that paint job; worried that it made Ratchet even more of a target than the crosses adorning his shoulders.
Ratchet ducked under the laser fire, hurrying forward to the downed mech he had in his sights. He hated battlefields. Hated watching sparks gutter out when he had the equipment back in the medbays to save them.
“It’s all right.” He murmured reassuringly to the mech as he reached him, immediately starting to clamp leaking energon lines and pull away damaged plating to get at the circuitry beneath.
“Down!” The mech, with his optics focussed on the rest of the battle barked out the command and Ratchet obeyed instinctively, throwing himself across the mech’s chassis. The whine of missiles sounded far too close for his liking, and the debris thrown up by their impact covered him.
“Kid, hey kid.” The mech beneath him stirred, forcing Ratchet back online. Somewhere, which as his pain sensors came back online, he really wished he wasn’t.
“Uh…” Was all he managed.
“Come on kid, ya need ta get up now.” With what seemed like the last of his energy, Ratchet managed to push himself up off the other mech.
“What happened?”
“Seeker missiles.” Ratchet nodded, looking over to see what damage had been further inflicted on his patient.
“Ratchet!” Wheeljack calling his name took him by surprise. He looked up from the mech he was working on.
“Wheeljack?”
“Thank Primus you’re all right. When I saw those missiles hit…”
“Stupid kid doesn’t know when to scram.” The mech Ratchet was working on grunted.
“If I’d have left you, you wouldn’t be lying there berating me!”
“And you wouldn’t be as banged up as you are. Medics shouldn’t get involved in battles,”
“I wasn’t exactly fighting.” Ratchet pointed out.
“Should have been running away.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you!” Ratchet protested.
“Okay guys, let’s not draw any more attention to ourselves, okay?” Wheeljack tried to be the voice of reason and was grateful when Ratchet and the injured mech calmed down.
“That’s better.” It didn’t take Ratchet much longer to patch up the worst of the damage so they could fall back behind the lines, Wheeljack covering their retreat.