FIC! Waiting(Part 9)
Leaning back against the cargo bay's hull, Optimus sighed and considered the current situation. He had many reasons to thank Primus this day. After so long, the War was finally over-something he had despaired ever to witness. There were other blessings, also: a fair number of their people had survived and, although they were all weary, they were alive. Maybe, just maybe, their race might live on.
A soft groan drew the Prime from his reverie, and he gazed down at the Spark-broken medic in his arms. Probably not the wisest position for transport, but right now Optimus needed the contact to reassure himself that his friend still functioned.
" 'Hide...'Jacks...can't..." Ratchet whimpered, half out of his forced recharge cycle. Intakes hitching, he emitted a strangled sob and clawed feebly at his leader's chest-plates. "Primus, please..."
"Easy, old friend," Optimus murmured, stroking the other mech's back armour "Everything will be all right."
"No," the medic whispered, even as he returned to the realm of blissfully unaware. "Never again...."
Hating himself for blatantly lying to his friend, and feeling utterly helpless, Prime let his helm fall back against the hull again. How in Primus's name could wounds like this ever hope to be healed?
~Sir?~ Sideswipe's voice interrupted via internal comm. link.
~Here. Report?~
~Sir. Sent Skids and Mudflap to search for Wheeljack. Upon arrival, they didn't see anyone. Found a puddle of half-processed energon, ground torn up from a struggle, maybe. We've caught the same Pulse, three times since then, different locations. Wasn't sure what you'd want, so I had them pull back. Orders, Sir?~
~Well done, Sideswipe, and thank you. No new orders until I return.~
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