Challenge Fic: One left, Ratchet/Cliffjumper/Arcee
Title: One Left
Universe: Transformers: Prime
Rating: T
Pairing: Ratchet/Cliffjumper/Arcee
Music: ‘What About Now” by Daughtry
Notes: Suggested past of a threesome, and cuddling? And as a frequently do have to warn, Unbeta’d. Spoilers perhaps if you haven't been watching the series. Can I go ahead a dedicate this to lady_katana4544 who has wrote this pairing so well prior to me attempting to take it on.
_________________________
Ratchet’s shoulders were lowered, held there by a strut deep aching. His hands were planted on the console fingers splayed. His barely lit optics looked to the monitor, then slid down to look at his arm. He’d seen the signal fade. He’d seen it come back as a mere shadow. His helm lowered to hang from his shoulders. The medic’s optics shuttered. He hadn’t even been given a chance. The fingers of his right hand curled into a fist and he thumped the console. The strike was solid. His shoulders shook.
Their kind were scattered to the stars, but the three of them had managed to find something, managed to complete each other in ways they had not expect. All three were dedicated to the Autobot cause. Ratchet the oldest, and the most stable with great empathy. Arcee was driven, and a sense of honor with a sharp wit. Cliffjumper… bold, good sparked, and with a carefree honestly that made him the counterbalance between the two harsh personalities. He was gone. They hadn’t bonded. Their lives had been too hectic, and they had known the risks. By not doing so they had not followed Cliffjumper to the Well.
Ratchet’s had came down on the console again. This time the faceplate warped. He didn’t worry about how he looked. There were no humans at the base, and any of the warriors in the room politely ignored his public display of grief, as was their culture. He had made it a habit to scan for Cliffjumper as though a miracle might happen although he knew better than to expect one.
Arcee had not come back from scouting today, and when she did she would fuel, and return to her duty of guarding the human younglings. Even during recharge she was away. Ratchet’s fist came down again. The plate came loose from its moorings at the corners. He wondered if the advice for them not to bond that he’d given long ago, and his strict adherence to it was worth it. He still felt as though a piece of something that made him whole was missing. He wanted his partners with him. He wanted them close out of harm but now one was where they could not reach him, and the other. His hand slid out of the bent plate and to the edge of the console command board, his fingers catching and keeping his hand from falling. The other… the other had become distant, seeking comfort away from him, and his offered strength.
Turning his looked over his shoulder to their leader who was busy maintenancing his arm mounted weapons. “I’m heading out.” Ratchet didn’t wait for a response, or approve but with heavy steps that spoke of weariness headed toward the reinforced door to the outside. His hand touched the control pad beside it first only resting on it before his fingers typed the code almost delicately. They needed to talk.
_________________________
The Search and Rescue vehicle pulled up in front of the Darby residence and Ratchet politely pinged Arcee over their comms. He waited. The garage door that separated them did not move. It stood a silent barrier for hours. The medic’s form sank on his shocks, settling to wait. His time would come even if he had to wait till 7:30AM when the humans had to attend their educational facilities.
::I will wait for you, for however long you make me.:: It was a simple text sent from Ratchet to his remaining partner. Not too long after the message the garage door rumbled and slid along its track.
The lithe motorcycle rolled out and to the end of the driveway. The dual headlight seemed to somehow radiate her displease at the red and white mech, and her mirrors tucked back in a sign of agitation. “I would have you know that Jack and his Mom are trying to recharge.”
“They don’t recharge. They sleep, though the principle is similar.” Ratchet responded out of habit and saw the blue femme’s plating seem to tighten in yet another visible sign of her emotion. He cleared his vocalizer, in a weak attempt to clear the atmosphere. “We need to talk, Arcee.”
“What is there to talk about, Ratchet? He’s gone. He’s offline, and we aren’t. This is what you wanted.” It was easy to hear the venom in her tone. Both Arcee and Cliffjumper had tried to persuade Ratchet into bonding but the medic in his wisdom had stood firm. He had seen one too many bondmates die in the wars. They were too valuable and too few to risk it now.
“He is gone. We aren’t. Was he the only thing that you loved? I for one remember that I had two partners, both who I cared for deeply, both who I had to worry for when they went into battle. How many partners did you have? If you had one and only one tell me now, tell me today.” He spark was sore. He was denied the chance to comfort, and to heal, and be healed by his remaining love.
The door opened to home. “Hey, what’s with the Autobot convention at four in the morning?” Jack’s shadowed outline appeared in the doorway, light from inside spilling out around him. His hair jutting at on odd angle from the side of his head.
Turning her front wheel toward the boy, Arcee responded, “Don’t worry about it Jack, Ratchet just had a question for me.” Without answering the mech she pulled back into the garage and the door rolled down behind her effectively ending the conversation.
With a flash of his headlights Ratchet pulled forward ever so slightly. “I do believe you have school in the morning.” His tone was unnecessarily gruff toward the human, but that was the best he could manage in his current mood. The medic pulled away from the curb and drove off leaving a confused and tired Jack Darby patting down the back of his sleep-mussed hair.
_________________________
Ratchet had fallen into a deep recharge for what felt like the first time since Cliffjumper had pasted. His systems demanded a defrag, and his work worn frame barely felt able to move by the time he had sunk into his berth. He was drawn from recharge by the gentle touches of fragile fingers. There was a weight against side. His optics unshuttered halfway, and his groaned softly.
The spire of Arcee’s helm knocked lightly against the side of Ratchet’s helm. Her lips close to his audial. Her voice pulled him the rest of the way to consciousness. “I had two partners. Two partners I cared for deeply.” Her word mimicked his earlier. “Two partners I worried about every time I took to the battlefield.” Her fingers moved from brushing along his face to weaving through the slats of his grill and holding tight as though he’d be gone as quickly as their third had been. Her helm tucked between his shoulder armor and neck wiring. Her pede nudged its way on top of Ratchet’s trapping him with her light build more thoroughly. “I only have one left. One that I have neglected.”
Ratchet shifted rolling slightly to face toward the femme. His optics were dimmed by his interrupted recharge cycle. “Arcee…”
“Ratchet.” The weapon specialist’s voice cut him off. Her fingers tightened on the grill at the medic’s abdomen. “Tell me, I’m still your partner even with our better third gone. Tell me why you loved me.”
Ratchet nuzzled Arcee’s helm with his. His spark ached and the lenses of his optics stung with the build up of cleaning fluid. He shuttered his optics. “You’re still my partner and I loved you for your strength, your honor, and your ability to be a smartaft, which is what I love you for now.”
A long silence stretched between in which Ratchet took the opportunity to lay an arm over Arcee’s middle. The femme smiled her voice soft. “I think we can make this work.”
“We’d better or your next physical is going to be awkward.” Ratchet tapped their helms together jokingly.
Universe: Transformers: Prime
Rating: T
Pairing: Ratchet/Cliffjumper/Arcee
Music: ‘What About Now” by Daughtry
Notes: Suggested past of a threesome, and cuddling? And as a frequently do have to warn, Unbeta’d. Spoilers perhaps if you haven't been watching the series. Can I go ahead a dedicate this to lady_katana4544 who has wrote this pairing so well prior to me attempting to take it on.
_________________________
Ratchet’s shoulders were lowered, held there by a strut deep aching. His hands were planted on the console fingers splayed. His barely lit optics looked to the monitor, then slid down to look at his arm. He’d seen the signal fade. He’d seen it come back as a mere shadow. His helm lowered to hang from his shoulders. The medic’s optics shuttered. He hadn’t even been given a chance. The fingers of his right hand curled into a fist and he thumped the console. The strike was solid. His shoulders shook.
Their kind were scattered to the stars, but the three of them had managed to find something, managed to complete each other in ways they had not expect. All three were dedicated to the Autobot cause. Ratchet the oldest, and the most stable with great empathy. Arcee was driven, and a sense of honor with a sharp wit. Cliffjumper… bold, good sparked, and with a carefree honestly that made him the counterbalance between the two harsh personalities. He was gone. They hadn’t bonded. Their lives had been too hectic, and they had known the risks. By not doing so they had not followed Cliffjumper to the Well.
Ratchet’s had came down on the console again. This time the faceplate warped. He didn’t worry about how he looked. There were no humans at the base, and any of the warriors in the room politely ignored his public display of grief, as was their culture. He had made it a habit to scan for Cliffjumper as though a miracle might happen although he knew better than to expect one.
Arcee had not come back from scouting today, and when she did she would fuel, and return to her duty of guarding the human younglings. Even during recharge she was away. Ratchet’s fist came down again. The plate came loose from its moorings at the corners. He wondered if the advice for them not to bond that he’d given long ago, and his strict adherence to it was worth it. He still felt as though a piece of something that made him whole was missing. He wanted his partners with him. He wanted them close out of harm but now one was where they could not reach him, and the other. His hand slid out of the bent plate and to the edge of the console command board, his fingers catching and keeping his hand from falling. The other… the other had become distant, seeking comfort away from him, and his offered strength.
Turning his looked over his shoulder to their leader who was busy maintenancing his arm mounted weapons. “I’m heading out.” Ratchet didn’t wait for a response, or approve but with heavy steps that spoke of weariness headed toward the reinforced door to the outside. His hand touched the control pad beside it first only resting on it before his fingers typed the code almost delicately. They needed to talk.
_________________________
The Search and Rescue vehicle pulled up in front of the Darby residence and Ratchet politely pinged Arcee over their comms. He waited. The garage door that separated them did not move. It stood a silent barrier for hours. The medic’s form sank on his shocks, settling to wait. His time would come even if he had to wait till 7:30AM when the humans had to attend their educational facilities.
::I will wait for you, for however long you make me.:: It was a simple text sent from Ratchet to his remaining partner. Not too long after the message the garage door rumbled and slid along its track.
The lithe motorcycle rolled out and to the end of the driveway. The dual headlight seemed to somehow radiate her displease at the red and white mech, and her mirrors tucked back in a sign of agitation. “I would have you know that Jack and his Mom are trying to recharge.”
“They don’t recharge. They sleep, though the principle is similar.” Ratchet responded out of habit and saw the blue femme’s plating seem to tighten in yet another visible sign of her emotion. He cleared his vocalizer, in a weak attempt to clear the atmosphere. “We need to talk, Arcee.”
“What is there to talk about, Ratchet? He’s gone. He’s offline, and we aren’t. This is what you wanted.” It was easy to hear the venom in her tone. Both Arcee and Cliffjumper had tried to persuade Ratchet into bonding but the medic in his wisdom had stood firm. He had seen one too many bondmates die in the wars. They were too valuable and too few to risk it now.
“He is gone. We aren’t. Was he the only thing that you loved? I for one remember that I had two partners, both who I cared for deeply, both who I had to worry for when they went into battle. How many partners did you have? If you had one and only one tell me now, tell me today.” He spark was sore. He was denied the chance to comfort, and to heal, and be healed by his remaining love.
The door opened to home. “Hey, what’s with the Autobot convention at four in the morning?” Jack’s shadowed outline appeared in the doorway, light from inside spilling out around him. His hair jutting at on odd angle from the side of his head.
Turning her front wheel toward the boy, Arcee responded, “Don’t worry about it Jack, Ratchet just had a question for me.” Without answering the mech she pulled back into the garage and the door rolled down behind her effectively ending the conversation.
With a flash of his headlights Ratchet pulled forward ever so slightly. “I do believe you have school in the morning.” His tone was unnecessarily gruff toward the human, but that was the best he could manage in his current mood. The medic pulled away from the curb and drove off leaving a confused and tired Jack Darby patting down the back of his sleep-mussed hair.
_________________________
Ratchet had fallen into a deep recharge for what felt like the first time since Cliffjumper had pasted. His systems demanded a defrag, and his work worn frame barely felt able to move by the time he had sunk into his berth. He was drawn from recharge by the gentle touches of fragile fingers. There was a weight against side. His optics unshuttered halfway, and his groaned softly.
The spire of Arcee’s helm knocked lightly against the side of Ratchet’s helm. Her lips close to his audial. Her voice pulled him the rest of the way to consciousness. “I had two partners. Two partners I cared for deeply.” Her word mimicked his earlier. “Two partners I worried about every time I took to the battlefield.” Her fingers moved from brushing along his face to weaving through the slats of his grill and holding tight as though he’d be gone as quickly as their third had been. Her helm tucked between his shoulder armor and neck wiring. Her pede nudged its way on top of Ratchet’s trapping him with her light build more thoroughly. “I only have one left. One that I have neglected.”
Ratchet shifted rolling slightly to face toward the femme. His optics were dimmed by his interrupted recharge cycle. “Arcee…”
“Ratchet.” The weapon specialist’s voice cut him off. Her fingers tightened on the grill at the medic’s abdomen. “Tell me, I’m still your partner even with our better third gone. Tell me why you loved me.”
Ratchet nuzzled Arcee’s helm with his. His spark ached and the lenses of his optics stung with the build up of cleaning fluid. He shuttered his optics. “You’re still my partner and I loved you for your strength, your honor, and your ability to be a smartaft, which is what I love you for now.”
A long silence stretched between in which Ratchet took the opportunity to lay an arm over Arcee’s middle. The femme smiled her voice soft. “I think we can make this work.”
“We’d better or your next physical is going to be awkward.” Ratchet tapped their helms together jokingly.