Vigilant
Title: 'Vigilant'
Rating: G
'verse/series: G1
Warnings: crappy ending is crappy. That's all.
Characters: Ratchet and Blasphemy(OC)
Summary: Ratchet ponders on how he's going raise the Seekerlet, now that Spectrum has left.
Notes: I stayed up till about midnight last night working on this. The bunny bit hard or something idk. May, may not add more(that and may add more content to the end b/c I hate how my muse just died). I did go back and edit it but I probably missed something. Most likely. So sorry before hand.
click:
Ratchet stared out through the one-way glass that allowed him to gaze into his med-bay without anyone seeing him. So he could observe, which was what he was doing now. On the other side of the glass the med-bay was dimmed leaving the room with its odd shadows. He stared at a small now dark (darker than normal) gray frame of a sparkling curled up on one his medical tables. The small form seemed even smaller in that curled up ball and Ratchet thought if he didn’t have those wing’s he’d be even smaller.
The medic pondered over the sparkling. It had been a long time since he’d had to deal with a youth especially a sparkling barely scratching into being a youngling. Bumblebee and Bluestreak, while now adults, were still the youngest of the Ark crew. It had been vorns since then.
What really bothered the medic was, while yes he was capable of watching over the sparklings health. But what if a situation ever occurred that he needed knowledge of Seeker systems problems could arise. He found that his knowledge severally lacked in that department.
Yeah, they had the Aerialbot’s and Skyfire but they weren’t like the standard Seeker. They would have to do. He’d have to speak to Skyfire when he returned back from wherever he was off at and get as much information out of him about Seeker’s from the shuttle-bot as he could. While he wasn’t a Seeker, from Ratchet's knowledge, he’d worked with Starscream in the past and was bound to have picked up something about Seeker frames. Hopefully the shuttle-bot could help.
Primus forbid, if anything happened to the sparkling currently curled up one on his medical tables, he’d never hear the end of it from Spectrum. Not mentioning he’d never forgive himself for that matter.
Ratchet quietly walked to his office door, it cycled open to let him into the dimly lit medical bay. Quietly he made his way over to the table that the mechling was recharging on and stood there observing the little one as he slumbered. It had been so long since he, anyone at the Ark, had seen a youth of such age. A sparkling at that.
He didn’t know the child very well; he’d barely known him less than a few days. Spectrum had told the child that he was friends with the medic along with that he could trust the medic-bot. So, in childish innocence, understanding and logic Blasphemy trusted Ratchet as he trusted Spectrum. While still a little hesitant of the prawn-to-‘violence’-against-his-patient’s Ratchet was one of the few Blast trusted outside Spectrum.
Ratchet was almost humbled alas he’d never admit it. . .maybe just to the Seekerlet but that was it.
Gently Ratchet sat down beside the sparkling so as not to wake him, there was plenty of space left on the berth, it could hold bot’s Optimus’ size after all, for him to sit. He continued studying the Seekerlet, like the way he was laying curled up in a small ball. It was something that came partially from instinct, partially from programming; it was a defense mechanism of sorts.
Ratchet pondered on how he’d help raise this mechling since the little thing had already attached himself to him. The old medic didn’t have the spark to deny the child. He had a soft spot for kids yeah, but he wasn’t the ‘parent’ type, never had been and didn’t have any plans on ever being. Luckily, despite hesitation, Blasphemy was gradually winning over the other ‘Bot’s in the Ark.
A quiet sigh from Blasphemy drew Ratchet out of his thoughts. That’s when he realized his hand had made it’s way up to the child’s helm cradling it against his palm. He drew it away. That had been. . . unsuspected. That was. . .parental. Ratchet found that it bothered him. It had to be the child that was bringing up these. . .reactions, these emotions.
Frowning, he was fixing to move to stand when the Seekerlet stirred more than just shifting in his sleep. Standing quickly Ratchet watched the dark gray and dark navy form stir and shift his movements. For a moment dimmed, half shuttered gold optics gazed off for a moment before looking around, obviously to gain his barings before looking up to find Ratchet standing over him.
Rubbing at an optic, “. . .Ratch’? Wha?”
“You fail into recharge some time ago. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Propping himself up on an elbow, “Sorry.” He began slightly anxious. “I can move if-“
“No. You’re fine, Blast.” Ratchet paused watching the little one absently as he sank back down. It was obvious he was still trudging out of recharge. “Wait. No.” Blasphemy glanced back up at his current caretaker and guardian. “Come on.” Ratchet gestured for the mechling to follow.
Waiting a moment as Blasphemy climbed down from the berth and joining him, letting out a large yawn as he did so. Ratchet lead him to his office then to another door on the other side of the room. Door cycling open he ordered the lights dimmed.
“You can rest in here, since we still haven’t gotten you your own quarters yet.”
Blasphemy hesitated, “But isn’t this your room? I-“
“It’s temporary just in case I have any critical patents and I need to be in the med-bay quickly. Now get!”
Still the small Seekerlet hesitated a moment before directing a nervous glance over at Ratchet before stepping into the room and to the large enough cot. Finding himself doing the same thing he’d been doing, Ratchet watched the little mech look over the cot and run a hand over it before lying down and curling up on it.
“Thank you.”
Hopefully it would be more comfortable.
"Night, Ratch'."
Rating: G
'verse/series: G1
Warnings: crappy ending is crappy. That's all.
Characters: Ratchet and Blasphemy(OC)
Summary: Ratchet ponders on how he's going raise the Seekerlet, now that Spectrum has left.
Notes: I stayed up till about midnight last night working on this. The bunny bit hard or something idk. May, may not add more(that and may add more content to the end b/c I hate how my muse just died). I did go back and edit it but I probably missed something. Most likely. So sorry before hand.
click:
Ratchet stared out through the one-way glass that allowed him to gaze into his med-bay without anyone seeing him. So he could observe, which was what he was doing now. On the other side of the glass the med-bay was dimmed leaving the room with its odd shadows. He stared at a small now dark (darker than normal) gray frame of a sparkling curled up on one his medical tables. The small form seemed even smaller in that curled up ball and Ratchet thought if he didn’t have those wing’s he’d be even smaller.
The medic pondered over the sparkling. It had been a long time since he’d had to deal with a youth especially a sparkling barely scratching into being a youngling. Bumblebee and Bluestreak, while now adults, were still the youngest of the Ark crew. It had been vorns since then.
What really bothered the medic was, while yes he was capable of watching over the sparklings health. But what if a situation ever occurred that he needed knowledge of Seeker systems problems could arise. He found that his knowledge severally lacked in that department.
Yeah, they had the Aerialbot’s and Skyfire but they weren’t like the standard Seeker. They would have to do. He’d have to speak to Skyfire when he returned back from wherever he was off at and get as much information out of him about Seeker’s from the shuttle-bot as he could. While he wasn’t a Seeker, from Ratchet's knowledge, he’d worked with Starscream in the past and was bound to have picked up something about Seeker frames. Hopefully the shuttle-bot could help.
Primus forbid, if anything happened to the sparkling currently curled up one on his medical tables, he’d never hear the end of it from Spectrum. Not mentioning he’d never forgive himself for that matter.
Ratchet quietly walked to his office door, it cycled open to let him into the dimly lit medical bay. Quietly he made his way over to the table that the mechling was recharging on and stood there observing the little one as he slumbered. It had been so long since he, anyone at the Ark, had seen a youth of such age. A sparkling at that.
He didn’t know the child very well; he’d barely known him less than a few days. Spectrum had told the child that he was friends with the medic along with that he could trust the medic-bot. So, in childish innocence, understanding and logic Blasphemy trusted Ratchet as he trusted Spectrum. While still a little hesitant of the prawn-to-‘violence’-against-his-patient’s Ratchet was one of the few Blast trusted outside Spectrum.
Ratchet was almost humbled alas he’d never admit it. . .maybe just to the Seekerlet but that was it.
Gently Ratchet sat down beside the sparkling so as not to wake him, there was plenty of space left on the berth, it could hold bot’s Optimus’ size after all, for him to sit. He continued studying the Seekerlet, like the way he was laying curled up in a small ball. It was something that came partially from instinct, partially from programming; it was a defense mechanism of sorts.
Ratchet pondered on how he’d help raise this mechling since the little thing had already attached himself to him. The old medic didn’t have the spark to deny the child. He had a soft spot for kids yeah, but he wasn’t the ‘parent’ type, never had been and didn’t have any plans on ever being. Luckily, despite hesitation, Blasphemy was gradually winning over the other ‘Bot’s in the Ark.
A quiet sigh from Blasphemy drew Ratchet out of his thoughts. That’s when he realized his hand had made it’s way up to the child’s helm cradling it against his palm. He drew it away. That had been. . . unsuspected. That was. . .parental. Ratchet found that it bothered him. It had to be the child that was bringing up these. . .reactions, these emotions.
Frowning, he was fixing to move to stand when the Seekerlet stirred more than just shifting in his sleep. Standing quickly Ratchet watched the dark gray and dark navy form stir and shift his movements. For a moment dimmed, half shuttered gold optics gazed off for a moment before looking around, obviously to gain his barings before looking up to find Ratchet standing over him.
Rubbing at an optic, “. . .Ratch’? Wha?”
“You fail into recharge some time ago. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Propping himself up on an elbow, “Sorry.” He began slightly anxious. “I can move if-“
“No. You’re fine, Blast.” Ratchet paused watching the little one absently as he sank back down. It was obvious he was still trudging out of recharge. “Wait. No.” Blasphemy glanced back up at his current caretaker and guardian. “Come on.” Ratchet gestured for the mechling to follow.
Waiting a moment as Blasphemy climbed down from the berth and joining him, letting out a large yawn as he did so. Ratchet lead him to his office then to another door on the other side of the room. Door cycling open he ordered the lights dimmed.
“You can rest in here, since we still haven’t gotten you your own quarters yet.”
Blasphemy hesitated, “But isn’t this your room? I-“
“It’s temporary just in case I have any critical patents and I need to be in the med-bay quickly. Now get!”
Still the small Seekerlet hesitated a moment before directing a nervous glance over at Ratchet before stepping into the room and to the large enough cot. Finding himself doing the same thing he’d been doing, Ratchet watched the little mech look over the cot and run a hand over it before lying down and curling up on it.
“Thank you.”
Hopefully it would be more comfortable.
"Night, Ratch'."