Wow, it's been ages since I've written such an agonisingly angsty oneshot of this length. I just love this couple and thanks to a few encouragements I've found my strength to continue writing for the TF fandom. I'm tired of the other and happy that I've started writing for Transformers again.
This oneshot has many warning and holds much promise. Please READ THIS before going any further. This story is rated M for a reason.
Pairing: Wheeljack x Ratchet
Warnings: Character death, suicide, mech/mech smut, spark sex, sticky sex and a bit of EM play.
Nanoklik - 1 second
Klik - 1 minute
Breem - 8 minutes
Joor - 1 Hour
Cycle 18 Hours
Orn - Day
Metacycle - 6 years
Vorn - 83 years
"..." Comm. line
Thoughts or Emphasis on a word
~...~ Medical Hardline
::Lovers:: Spark Bond
"You feel strength in the experience of pain. Pain is a feeling. Feelings are a part of you. If you feel ashamed of them and hide them then you're letting society destroy your only reality." ~Jim Morrison
The constellations above the earth were innumerable in a glittering expanse of the dark, cloudless sky. The Cancer constellation flickering in recognition ― a reflection to the waxing moon. For once the awareness of time a change in the stellar cycles. Insurmountable darkness abound with harsh figments of reality and planetary relief. There was a silent will for dominion over all walks of life and promises of both pain and understanding. A distinct touch of death and failure a prominent promise of lesser anguish. A contradiction blurted by the stars in a show of dominance and humane realization.
In a lightning fast calculation of reality; the single injured Autobot drew upon the expanse of the stars above him to map out an astrological chart. In other words; a few calculations here and there and a reference to astrology in a whole and one answer stirred a broken spark with more sorrow. He was so slagged according to the stars interpretation.
Deep blue optics shuttered lazily up at the expanse of black. Formerly white and red armoured panels now stained of dirt, oils and the dribble of a fatal Energon leak. Pain - a registered stroke of acceptance - was both a crush of reality circuits and sparked beneath heavy armour a quiet struggle within himself. The insoluble ache of a stray missile a stark reminder that the battle was still raging around them. It left a bitter taste upon his glossa and a heavy sense of loss.
Ratchet, Autobot CMO, struggled against the warnings that were a now a constant flicker across his HUD display. Fuel line ruptured, armour damaged severely, vocal circuits fluctuating, deep wire damage and overloading heating and cooling systems... Fluctuating spark pulse...Spark chamber harmed ruthlessly...
For a medic that only meant one thing ― certain death in a few kliks; if he had been lucky he would live for another 30 kliks before his spark spluttered out of existence. For once Ratchet was grateful to Primus that his spark bonded stayed back at base; the break in their internal bond would survive if his Beloved Starling (1*) was not close to him when this happened. Otherwise the Autobot Faction would suffer not one but two irreplaceable losses to their cause.
The ebb and flow of his confused systems now exposing his damaged heating and cooling systems to the elements harshly. The biting cold a brush of fear against his armour; an accelerator for the inevitable. Snow, white, pure, unforgiving ice became a painful torture for his fried processors. He wondered just how he had gotten in the middle of this conflict when he had been tending to another fallen comrade's injuries mere astroseconds before. But then again the death rate of Field Medics in the Cybertronian War had always been high. They were often the first targets of the enemy. It had been a miracle in itself that Ratchet had survived for as many millennia as he had whilst in the thick of the conflict. The immense pain of the explosive missile ploughing right into his abdominal plating had been excruciating across his sensor net. He just hoped his beloved had not felt the pain across their link...
Stiff servo joints fought to push his weight up onto his elbows. It was his final determination to seek refuge for his patient from the reigning danger. In what was a futile attempt, dark blue optics returned to the stars above. A flurry of white nearly blinding him as the blizzard broke across the battlefield. Shouts and hollers loud in his half functioning audial receivers. His previous movement had only provoked more flashing warnings and systematical protests. Not a good combination in his current situation.
The world around him now was a calamity of noise he couldn't make sense of; not that he truly wanted to in the first place. Optics shuttered against the flashes of light and pure exhaustion. The sudden soothing touch of gentle servos against his helm stilled the Medic's wild thoughts. A burst of static and a whine spilled from his vocal processor unbidden of the damage it sustained. Sorrow stained his flickering spark - the one person he did not want to be here to see this and experience it - stroked soothingly across his dark chevron. Hitching intakes of grief and spark breaking shouts ringing in his audio receptors. It was startlingly clear for his fading sensors. Yet; no matter how frantically he tried to offer a comforting word Ratchet couldn't do anything for his beloved now mourning at his fall.
Their bond was filled with static where Ratchet fought hard to keep the immense pain from affecting his beloved any more than his inevitable loss of spark already was. The fingers against his helm were trembling now; their bond flaring to life with shouts of grief and deadly pain.
::PLEASE! RATCHET! DON'T GO!:: 'A my beloved, such a sad voice. It'll be alright...' Words he himself could not speak; words he wished he could speak―.
Another touch of trembling fingers across his barely protected spark chamber; a skittering emotion of helplessness and a dreaded sense of utter hopelessness. Giving up. Ratchet's optics flickered on and a glimpse of the pain of his bondmate's face made his spark twist painfully. He never wanted to cause pain like this. Never wanted to see his Beloved Starling in the pain that he now was. But he was eternally grateful that he would not face this alone, a selfish unreasonable thought that even he couldn't stop.
::H-hush my b-b-belo-ved. H-hush and e-everything w-w-ill be a-a-lright.::
Beautiful light blue optics now leaking a steady stream of grief, Energon now staining his faceplates as his helm was carefully moved into his bondmate's lap. His beloved's servo now curled in his own limp one. With the last of his available strength, Ratchet gripped it firmly ― a dimming smile flickering across his faceplates. The incomprehensible feeling of being safe spilling across their bond in a hastened communication.
A startling revelation, a whispered promise and a trip together towards the Well of Sparks.
::Ratchet! I-I l-l-lo-ve y-you.::
::I-I k-know my S-s-t-a-r-ling; my W-h-eel-j-ack; I-I s-s-hall l-love you for an e-eternity to c-o-me.::
Ratchet: fully trained Medic, Installer and Programmer ― also the current CMO of the largest running hospital in Iacon ― allowed a sigh to vent his already tired systems with building frustration and helplessness. He had worked through four shifts now without taking a single break and he would be facing the inevitable consequences soon enough if he did not consume a single cube of Energon. Back straight and on the defensive, the Medic made his way towards the rec room to gather his Energon before returning to work.
There was still so much to be done; so much that should have been done eons ago ― he reminded himself with a stern warning. His pedesteps brisk and professional, dark blue optics completely ignoring the odd stares that was directed towards him as he continued on. He was waiting to run a full check up on the engineering and science department refugees before ending his overly long shift; he really needed the rest. His own recharge cycles had always been sketchy at best but now with the last of the survivors trickling in it was even less so. The new mechs had barely managed to escape the darkness that had consumed Cybertron's capital city mere orns ago and even less had made it to their shelter deeper into the city where they would be relatively safe from the violence and calamity that consumed the outside world.
Ratchet could only hope that there wasn't a mech seriously injured after their daring escape. Several Enforcers and members of the Autobot faction had gone to bring them back to safety but failed to keep him updated on any relevant information. Ratchet only had a skeleton staff to assist him now and should serious injuries be exposed it was most likely going to be him to do all the work and offer up another of his recharge cycles.
"Ratchet! Chief Medical Officer Ratchet! You're immediate presence is required in the ECU (2*)!"The call rang across the building's internal comm. system and subsequently his own emergency private comm. line.
"And so it begins." Ratchet said with a vented sigh, his empty cube of Energon now resting on the table he had barely managed to sit at ― his own value long forgotten to the outside world. His pedesteps once again brusque and efficient as he walked ― half ran ― towards the lower floors in an insatiable hurry. Ratchet knew very well that every astrosecond he wasted could mean some mech's life. The doors hissed loudly when he whirled around the corner, his external sirens flashing red and white in rapid burst of energy. Ratchet entered the clean ward, his optics immediately drawn towards the mech that was already laid out on a clean berth. Energon, a sickly purple and bright pink were staining the white floors dirty. The grey, green and red mech whose intakes were fighting for air with a half crushed spark chamber fared no better. All those gathered around him, friends Ratchet assumed, were clearly only distressing his patient more and his lone assistant as well.
Ratchet swore internally, he was going to need to fix the damage but even with only one assistant it was going to take everything the young Medic had to give.
"Frag! OUT! Get out of my Medbay! Let me work!" Ratchet yelled loudly, the rest of the mechs who had gathered around their comrade scattered as one. Ratchet's assistant immediately prepped the mech for surgery, there was little time to waste. Ratchet didn't wait for his assistant to finish; Cherry red servos dived into the half open chest cavity. His mind filled with everything he had learned at the academy and had done before.
1) First stop the most dangerous Energon leaks, which should calm the erratic spark pulses.
Fingers long used to surgery elegantly clamped four potentially fatal leaks before quickly filling the smaller ones in rapid succession.
2) If patient stirs lull him back into stasis, if that is unsuccessful enter medical code to achieve it quickly and effective immediately.
Optics of a lighter blue than his own flickered online with great effort; even then those optics were dim with pain and uncertainty. A pained, static moan escaping the mech's vocalizer and Ratchet reached forward to sooth him before things went off kilter. Ratchet could see uncertain fear flicker in those expressive optics and he increased his efforts to keep the mech calm. His servos once again only a blur as they worked on offlining as many sensor nodes as they could in as little time as possible. He needed to lessen the pain and Ratchet was glad when his assistant did the same.
The look of horror and terror didn't fade.
"Hush my precious Starling. I won't hurt you, I promise. I'll fix you but I need you to slip offline okay?" Ratchet murmured softly and gently; red servo brushing against a warm helm in comfort- fingers trailing over audial fins flashing a deep purple in pain. A mere flicker of understanding as those head fins changed colour was all Ratchet needed to tell him he had succeeded. But to what extent he would find out later.
The moment those optics offlined again Ratchet quickly set to work.
3) Provide what has been lost. Monitor spark activity for any drop in health.
An Energon drip now inserted into his patients main Energon line; Ratchet's scanners ran overtime to try and detect a potential leak they had missed. There was none. Ratchet vented a deep breath; this wasn't the first time he had seen injuries such as these but it was the first time he had seen a civilian struck by what looked like an advanced missile. That alone brought forth the reality that their once Golden Age had long since been shattered and the peace was no more.
"Monitor his spark!" Ratchet yelled at his assistant as he finally pried open the bent in protective armour over the spark chamber. He worked quickly, tools already smoothing out dangerously caved in metal and more delicate work to get cables and wires away from the erratic spark. Ratchet's red servo briefly skimmed across the weak spark and read outs flashed in his processor ― a slow pulse but the brightness had yet to dim. It was a good thing but did not mean they were out of the woods yet. The moment his fingers brushed over that warm spark a second time to double check his readings ― a surge of power erupted through his entire body. The shock of the feeling made the Medic go rigid, he barely had time to grab onto the berth to steady before his legs gave out from under him.
Warnings flashed across his HUD, his processor was spinning out of control but he fought it as valiantly as he could. The arc of pure white light he had seen jump towards his own spark chamber was not his imagination; the pure power of that arc of spark energy nearly made his own systems crash. What the hell was that?
"Sir? Are you alright?" The incessant yelling of his assistant firmly pushed those loud warnings flashing across his HUD away as Ratchet steadied himself. There wasn't time for this damn it!
4) The spark needs to be stabilized, controlled and kept steady. Stabilizing rod, charged to 2000 astrovolts (3*)- start steady and slow.
"I won't lose you!" Ratchet bellowed suddenly when his optics observed the fluttering spark rising out of the spark chamber in an attempt to escape to the Well of Sparks. Ratchet had never in his life felt like losing a mech on the operating table would leave him so empty but just the thought of losing this one was enough to send him into a fraught panic. Tools were now exchanged for charged rods and frantic attempts to save a life that was hanging in the balance. Uncertainty was a heavy push against the reality Ratchet found himself in and he feared that they might just lose this one. But if nothing else Ratchet was stubborn and refused to give up; a cable snaked from his wrist and jacked into the medical port. He needed to find out where the source was...
5) Medical coding used to find errors, keep the patient calm. Their spark may just be responding to induced stress from a traumatizing situation.
Endless lines of errors, not his own, jumped up onto Ratchet's screen. Gritting his denta against the influx of pain and panic the other mech was experiencing the Medic tried to sooth the fear he knew was now the cause to the erratic spark behaviour. Already weak systems were crashing one by one and Ratchet's own Medical code flared and reached out; it's tendrils in search of the source. The core emotional processor.
~I need you to calm down. Listen to my voice please.~ Ratchet beseeched his patient, his voice steady and gentle as he brushed against the mech's consciousness in a gentle flare of a comforting EM field. Ratchet's servo was back to stroking across the dark grey helm, fingers brushing over head fins in a gesture to calm his frantic patient.
~Wheeljack, I need you to calm your systems output. You spark is taking damage.~ Ratchet pleaded again. Glad that this once he had caught hold of a designation and could use to his advantage. Addressing a distressed patient by their designation often calmed them and allowed the Medical programming to take over. A sigh of relief vented the air as Ratchet saw the warnings on his display lessen, the firewalls keeping even him out dropped and allowed him access to a deeper more private part of Wheeljack.
~Thank you for trusting me.~ Ratchet sent over their linked minds.
~You're doing so well, my beloved Starling.~ He crooned for good measure. That was all he needed as everything was opened up for him. Ratchet raced through slow calming systems, deeper into Wheeljack's consciousness in search of programming to shut off the lingering pain and anxiety.
6)A stable spark, stable Energon lines are critical to keeping a patient from death. If that is achieved, work on securing damaged intakes, Energon convertor and finally move onto repairs that aren't life threatening.
Ratchet's processor was reeling when he finally stepped out of the operating ward if the ECU, his once spotless red and white armour now splattered with drops of purple, processed Energon, and the bright pink of new Energon. Smears of brown filth and soot from the wound coated his servos, the once shimmering cherry red now a dull red that was closer to brown than anything else. Wary dark blue optics observed the waiting room with trepidation.
So many mechs, he wasn't used to dealing with mechs other than his patients and it was usually his assistants that came out and gave the news to the families rather than him. He didn't want to face others at their most vulnerable and even now as his optics swept over the gathering he felt a small smile lift his faceplates.
"He'll be fine. Give him two to three orns of recharge and he'll be as good as new." Ratchet smiled, his voice soft and light as he fought the dull over fraught throbbing ache of his own spark. Why had Wheeljack affected him so much? He'd never even met the mech only heard of him with the brief whispers of an engineer that was worth his weight in Cybertronian Credits, rare crystals and so much more. Once he turned away from the friends, colleagues and family of his patient he felt the pain in his spark increase. He hadn't even received a single 'thank you'. That hurt more than anything else but Ratchet was used to it by now, he had learnt the hard way that gratitude was rarely found in the mechs of Iacon.
Ratchet's pedesteps this time was unstable as he fought with his balance circuits. His spinning processor wasn't helping either. Optics dimmed as Ratchet leaned heavily against the wall, servos clenching into fists in his frustration. If only he could get to his quarters for some rest. It wasn't going to work and Ratchet knew that; his back struts hit the metal wall behind him as he sank to the ground. He'd only stay there for a few moments, a few moments of peace and quiet to regain his senses. No one really used this hallway anymore, it was the private hall for the Medics and since the staff were so little they often used the public hallways instead. His grey chevron hit his knees struts as Ratchet tried to balance out the confusion that was clouding his processor. He had no idea what was going on but he didn't like the hopeless feeling creeping across his circuits...
"Ratchet?" A gentle servo rested on his shoulder armour and Ratchet stirred, blue optics onlined with a lazy flicker. The familiar face of his friend was staring down at him, blue optics swimming with various emotions Ratchet didn't have the time to try and process. If he did he would fail for he knew his friend had a deep seated sorrow even when he was a few stellar cycles younger than the Medic. Ratchet gave a smile in greeting but it faltered off his face when he grimaced, a processor ache was blinding his CPU completely - he never noticed the static whine that escaped him nor the way his optics shuttered rapidly.
"Optimus?" Ratchet asked when he found enough control over his systems again. Rising to his pedes blindly and shakily. He was about to topple forward when a servo settled on his lower back strut to keep him steady.
"Easy Ratchet." Optimus soothed before Ratchet could hit the floor.
"Are you alright?" Ratchet nodded quietly but groaned when the action jolted more flickers of pain through his systems. Before he could protest he felt his world tipping off of its axis as his equilibrium shifted dangerously. Strong servos caught him before his could hit the harsh floor in an undignified crash.
"I'll take that as a no." Optimus Prime pointed out but Ratchet ignored his friends in favour of struggling against the strong grip around his waist. A yelp leaving his vocalizer when he was picked up with no effort at all and pulled against a strong spark chamber. He hated it when Optimus did that.
"Recharge Ratchet, I'll take you to your berth. What you did today was amazing and something worth more than what you can imagine. I am proud of you. Thank you." Ratchet said nothing, there was nothing to say. He was too exhausted. But for once Ratchet didn't argue with his long time friend. The praise was something he rarely received and it was a welcoming concept; it soothed but a tiny of the pain settling across his spark.
Ratchet's head hung low, dread settling across his intake valves and a strange sense of accomplishment when he entered the Recovery Ward several cycles after his embarrassing crash in front of his friend. After so many times one would think Ratchet got over his embarrassment but every time it was worse, that wasn't supposed to happen to him damn it! But then again he was overworked and underpaid plus he hadn't gotten near enough rest to stabilize his own systems. Yet, he had a patient to look after and he was determined to see it through. His pedesteps were much more stable than an orn ago, even his integration was much slower than normal. His systems hadn't caught up quite yet.
The rush of pedesteps in this ward wasn't unusual as several assistants scrambled to make the patients happy and content. The fully trained medics were rarely found here and it was even more rare to find the hospital's top CMO in here but Ratchet ignored the surprised stares as he headed over to the left where his patient was deep in recharge. He wasn't surprised to find Wheeljack deep in recharge even though it wasn't a medically induced one as before. The mech had suffered through more than one surprise the orn before and nearly dying often took away the strength of a patient like nothing else. When Ratchet tentatively approached something in his spark leapt when those blue optics snapped open and locked with his. A racing spark that was happy to see Wheeljack getting better and seeing his optics with such a tender gaze. Ratchet desperately tried to pay it no mind when he reached out a servo and stoked it over the injured mech's helm in comfort. The small contact sending a surge of soothing energy across his own spark as much as he was sure it did to his patient.
"I'm Ratchet, the Head Medic of this Hospital. How are you feeling?" Ratchet asked gently after his introduction, there was no need to frighten his patient more. Ratchet was mildly surprised when a blast mask suddenly slid into place at his presence and question. Oh? So Wheeljack was shy? He chuckled a bit but did not stop the small movements of his fingers across warm metal plating; assuring that he meant no harm or embarrassment.
"Are you feeling a bit better?" Ratchet asked again, his spark jumping when Wheeljack had yet to pull away from his touch and if he looked closely enough he would have noticed the faint traces of an Energon blush across Wheeljack's cheek plates. If Ratchet noticed it he didn't draw attention to it. When Wheeljack's helm inclined in a positive nod Ratchet smiled, his medical cable extending into Wheeljack's medical port with a soft subtlety of vorns of practice as he ran a thorough systems check.
"Do you remember what happened?" Ratchet questioned; his own HUD filled with the display that Wheeljack was also no likely seeing.
"W-we we're escaping w-when they attacked a-and I-I..." Ratchet nodded a small hushing noise spilling from his vocalizer in a soft croon to comfort the sudden distress he saw in those optics. Cherry red fingers tracing warm audial fins in an attempt to keep his patient calm. He tried to ignore the small shiver that travelled through his systems at the tone of Wheeljack's voice. It was smooth and comforting, even with the edge of static Ratchet could sense this mech's voice was going to be the end of him one day. Such a soothing tone for his battered spark.
"Your took a fatal hit when you were escaping Wheeljack. I almost lost you on my operating table." Ratchet admitted with great pain, his optics shuttering at the memory of the pure panic he had experienced. Although such a reaction could be well hid it didn't make the idea of loosing Wheeljack hurt any less than before. When he saw the surprise in lighter blue optics he gave a reassuring smiling and retracted his diagnostic cable before running two internal scans with his equipment to make sure he didn't miss anything in Wheeljack's programming.
"I've repaired as much as I could. As far as I can tell there will be no permanent damage except for some neural tremors in your servos every once in a while." Ratchet explained. Optics shuttered before they flickered on again in a small moment of acceptance. A small hope settled across those blue optics and Ratchet allowed a sigh of relief to vent from his intakes. He was sure he was gifted with a smile from behind that blast mask.
"W-when will I be able to get up?" Ratchet paused for a moment to think.
"Hmmm, in about two orns but I want to see you first. I want you to rest as much as your body needs and if there is anything you need you can contact me on my private comm. I'm usually available and since the revolutionary attacks have ceased I'll be less busy from now on. In my ward you have nothing to worry about except healing." Ratchet brushed his fingers across those audial fins flashing a light blue in contentment. He so wanted to follow his fingers with his lips and glossa just to see how sensitive they were. Ratchet thought against it though; no matter how much his spark ached when he finally turned his back on his patient. Even he couldn't deny the desire that rushed through him.
"I'll see you in a bit, comm. me if something feels wrong or if you need anything." Ratchet reminded as he sent a small private ping to Wheeljack's comm. There were not many that had access to his private comm. and Ratchet didn't understand why he had followed that instinct but he was glad he did. His spark fluttered in its casing, attempting to escape and join with the gentle flutter of Wheeljack's own spark. Ratchet had an idea medically what was going on. Wheeljack's spark had made a connection with his after the accident on the operating table and now his own spark sought out to complete the bond but Ratchet didn't pay it any mind, it would go away in time. He was sure of it
But then why did it hurt so much when he thought Wheeljack would never acknowledge what was there? Or when he left the presence of the engineer?
~Several Vorns Later~
There was a ping at his office door and Ratchet opened it, the Ark they now found themselves on was ready to take off after an attack by Decepticons. The CMO of the Autobots sat back in his chair, darker blue optics glued to a data pad as he went over the crews' condition. There was nothing out of the ordinary and for that he was glad because according to Jazz they were going to have to make a quick escape when it finally did happened. With a vented sigh he switched off his data pad and turned his attention back to the one who had entered his office.
"Wheeljack?" Ratchet exclaimed surprised, even more so when a cube of high grade was pushed onto his desk right by his reach and his friend settled into the chair across from him. Raising an optic ridge in question got Ratchet a lilting laugh and audial fins shimmering a deep green in amusement. Oh how Ratchet loved the way Wheeljack expressed himself, which only made his processor more intent on leering silently and wishing for things that his spark should long have forgotten as the connection between their sparks should have faded.
"A taste for the road then?" Wheeljack asked, his voice muffled by his blast mask but clear enough for Ratchet to hear. Those audial fins flashing with every word that 'Jack spoke. Ratchet chuckled and nodded; graceful red servos curled around the cube of high grade ― grateful for the sudden distraction from his duties. Brining the heady brew towards parted lips a glossa peaked out to touch the rim and taste, savour before attempting to devour what was inside with a hidden relish of great enjoyment. Ratchet never processed the fact that his little display of drinking half the cube in such an erotic manner had Wheeljack fighting with his inner desires and desperate need. A slight tremble travelled through his own servos as the cube shook with the effort not to drop it and claim what was his since he had online in the Recovery Ward many vorns ago.
"'Jack? Why didn't you tell me it was bothering you again?" Ratchet said with a frown, his half finished high grade now put aside. He stood from his desk and quietly slipped around the desk before he leaned against the desk right where his friend was situated. Red servos reached forward, clasping a grey one between them in a gentle touch, a touch that Wheeljack knew was just for him. He had seen the way Ratchet treated some of the patients and whilst not being hurtful he was much more efficient and impersonal than when it came to him. Wheeljack couldn't really explain it very well but it always made him happy.
"Relax for me 'Jack; it shouldn't last long." Ratchet soothed, his fingers rubbing small circles over the trembling appendage in hopes of stopping the tremors. He had been through this enough to know what was needed. Even with half a cube of high grade Energon in his systems he didn't display much of a difference whilst inside his processors were reeling with the implications of Wheeljack being so close, his spark started humming and singing in his spark chamber again ― once again seeking more touch from this mech before him. He dutifully ignored it, his thoughts now fully focused on the warmth of his friend's servo and soothing the aches and tremors as best he could.
Little knew of this fact and even less mechs knew that some times when Wheeljack's inventions tended to go boom it was because his servos weren't stable enough for such delicate work. Ratchet knew this very well because when Wheeljack would come into his Medbay those hands would still be shivering and displaying neural tremors as an echo to his near loss all those vorns ago.
In an attempt to sooth his friends clear distress at something Ratchet brought that servo to his lips and placed a kiss on smooth metal, his lips memorising the grooves and scratches, scars and the small tremors that covered the working mech's servo. He felt more than heard Wheeljack's intakes hitching at his action but pushed it aside as more surprise than anything. He placed another kiss on the servo again, this time paying attention to every finger - a hidden smiled spilling across his lips when he noticed the tremors die down.
He still didn't let go, he didn't want to.
"R-Ratchet please d-don't." At his friend's unstable tone Ratchet frowned but did not let go of Wheeljack's servo, instead he gave it a squeeze of reassurance that he would never hurt his friend. This time when Wheeljack pulled back Ratchet let him go, a frown the only betrayal to the sudden hurt that he felt building up inside his spark. Was Wheeljack angry at him? Had Ratchet done something wrong? Ratchet didn't think he'd be able to take it if he had.
That's when he felt it; his spark shattering the moment Wheeljack turned tail and ran out of his office. In fact the pain to his spark made Ratchet feel more rejected than ever before and the small comforting feeling he had around his friend disintegrated. It felt as if his spark was tearing itself apart. He knew he could be misinterpreting it completely but Ratchet now knew, he knew he had fallen in love with his best friend all those vorns ago...
Bond. Spark bond. Spark. Bond. Intended.
His emotionally overcharged processor supplied him with the information he had been trying to deny himself for such a long time. Brokenly Ratchet let out a loud keen of distress, his vocalizer shorting with static before he himself crashed to the floor. It was unforgivably hard and painful but he didn't intend to move. It hadn't been an accident the first time he had felt the pull towards Wheeljack's spark had it? And now he knew it would never fade. This was real and he had been rejected; the pain made Ratchet's processor cloud with uncertainty and painful regret. He didn't move, for more than twelve joors ― he sat brokenly on the floor afraid to move, afraid that the pain would only get worse with a touch of movement. His logical centres told him it wasn't plausible but Ratchet didn't want to move.
Red fingers so foreign to him reached up to touch wet cheek plates, the glowing pink coming away with his touch told Ratchet that for the first time since his youngling vorns that he was crying. He stared at the substance as if it was a foreign substance and in a sense it was, Ratchet had seen many of his patients cry but he himself never really indulged in it.
The incessant knocking on his closed office door did not appease his sullen mood in fact it only made it worse. Not even his emergency comm. beeping in the background could rouse him from his sudden shattering emotions. He had no strength left to move from the floor.
~Somewhere else on the Ark~
Optimus Prime was dozing in and out of recharge half over his desk and unfinished datapads. His intakes shuddered when a loud incessant ping jerked him from his rest. With a sudden move of grace he sat up quickly and flushed as if he was a sparkling caught with his servos in the Energon goodie jar. Blue optics blinked open blearily, taking in the world much slower than he should have before. His processors were still hazed and slow with his exhaustion and subsequent rise from a light recharge. If Ratchet saw him like this then Optimus was sure he would be scolded severely. A few dents would definitely be added to his previous collection his friend had given him before.
"Optimus? We have a situation here." Optimus frowned but stumbled to his pedes. Words like that was unlikely to be spoken lightly by his SIC.
"What is it Prowl?" Optimus inquired, fingers rubbing over his optics to stop the static fritz's he saw in his vision.
"Jazz has been trying to get a hold of Ratchet's attention for more than a joor now. He's not answering his comm. or opening the door to his office." Optimus vented a deep sigh, he had no idea if something was wrong with his oldest friend but he could only hope it wasn't anything too serious. He wanted no needed to make sure that Ratchet was alright. His pedesteps were deceptively calm in comparison to his internal turmoil, a frown marred hidden features in regret and remorse. Ratchet always answered his comm. and always opened the door for a patient but to ignore it? Optimus was on the verge of panic himself, what if Ratchet had been injured? Would his own medical training be enough? Would he be enough?
Optimus was the highest Medical Authority after Ratchet and the fact that he had been contacted was something that he didn't want to think about. He tried contacting Ratchet through his private link but only static answered to his already great distress.
Primus but it hurt, why did he feel like he was dying? Even though he could die Ratchet knew he wouldn't be able to, he had too many duties and responsibilities to this crew. He was inadvertently the only qualified Medic and Physician here and there was no other way but to accept the pain and just hope that the next orn his spark would have settle with the loss.
"Ratchet? Talk to me Ratchet." A gentle voice commanded and Ratchet lifted his face for the first time in many joors. He knew his pain was visible to the world, he shuttered his optics to not see the disappointment reflected in his long time friend's optics. He didn't need that on top of the withdrawal his spark was going through. He shook his helm in denial, this was too personal to share with even Optimus and that also didn't explain why Optimus was in his office in the first place. This time when his friend picked him up and pushed him against a strong spark chamber Ratchet whined but didn't protest. There was just something in Prime's spark that comforted his sudden explosive realization.
"You're going to have to tell me anyways." Optimus drawled and Ratchet tucked his helm against Optimus' spark chamber; the pleasant sensations of vibrations against his chevron a distraction and comforting at the same time. He felt optics on him but never before had he cared and his vulnerability this time was on display but he couldn't fight anymore. He felt so week. So useless.
The sudden swish of the door to his private quarters drew him from the light recharge he had drifted into. He was definitely going to have to tell Optimus to stop carrying him around like that. He wasn't small or light damn it! He wasn't a sparkling anymore either! The rustle of his berth covers against his back struts was pleasant and welcoming; his previous distress falling away to a more perspective outlook.
"Talk to me Ratchet, I'm not leaving until you do."
"Manipulative bastard." He hissed in sudden anger.
Ratchet was caught in between internal turmoil, distress at what he had discovered and was most likely suffering from a rejected sparkmate. He had always known that his worth would run its course and now with a half functioning spark Ratchet was sure Optimus would cast him aside. His words were tentative at first but the moment he allowed that little bit of relief of talking to escape him Ratchet couldn't stop the torrent of words, emotions and pain that sprung forth at a rate so fast Ratchet doubted that Optimus could make sense of it.
Two orns, it had been two orns since Wheeljack had fled from Ratchet's office and the ache of want inside Wheeljack's spark did not disappear. He had hoped that leaving would help his own unsettled spark but he was proven wrong quite spectacularly. When he had heard Ratchet was taken off of duty for a few orns he was surprised but also extremely worried, Ratchet never got sick and never needed to take a few orns off from his work, he ― like Wheeljack ― thrived in his work environment. Jazz and a dew other of Ratchet's more difficult patients seemed to relish in the fact that Ratchet wasn't in his Medbay to terrorise them and spread malicious rumours about the Autobot Medic having finally cracked and lost his processor. That was reason enough for Wheeljack to find himself in the corridor of Ratchet's personal quarters. He needed to make sure that Ratchet was alright.
A small newly kindled Blaze Crystal Flower resting in his left servo's palm as an apology and a 'get well' gift for his best friend. If not for all the gratitude that he owed Ratchet, Wheeljack would almost be afraid to be standing here. A sense of foreboding and anxiety springing to the forefront of his rapidly whizzing processor. His optics instead rested on the small crystal flower nestled in his palm, small ripples of a small blue fire flickered inside the shapely crystal ― dancing in merriment at any type of Cybertronian contact. The fiery orange crystal on the outside shimmered in the artificial light of the Ark and sparkled brightly. He had managed to kindle the little sparked crystal flower a few orns ago when he had been on an mission into Iacon's famous Crystal Gardens or rather what was left of it now after the Decepticons' raid.
Nervously his audial fins flashed almost white in his pure anxiety when he pushed the small call button to get his friend's attention from inside. He didn't have to wait long until the door hissed open, an irate 'What do you...' sounding through the corridor before a distraught and angry Ratchet tugged him inside without any mercy. For a nanoklik Wheeljack could have sworn that the Medic balked at his appearance. Those lovely blue optics widening for a nanoklik before settling into a deep scowl.
"Hey Ratch, I brought you a little something to ― ooofff!" Wheeljack made a surprised noise when he was dragged further into the Medic's quarters with a harsh yank to his shoulder plating. An alarmed cry leaving his vocalizer when his back hit the wall with quite a force, almost enough to hitch his intakes. Damn, Ratchet was strong when he wanted to be. The slightly smaller Medic pressed close to him. The sudden intimate position set Wheeljack on edge, his audial fins a bright pink in embarrassment. Dark blue optics were locked with his and for the first time Wheeljack saw his friend in an entirely different light: vulnerable, afraid of rejection but also an infinite amount of love flickered deep in those optics. Wheeljack couldn't help it, he melted into the welcome touch.
"Wha ―?." Wheeljack never got to finish his question as deft cherry, red servos curled in his chest plates firmly with an intent even the engineer couldn't fully grasp yet. Supple fingers brushing against his helm, a stray finger triggering the hidden release for his blast mask to finally retract. The feeling of being suddenly exposed made an Energon flush decorate Wheeljack's cheeks, yes he was shy because as a youngling he had gotten a nasty scar running across his cheek plate to the corner of his mouth. It had never been properly fixed. Wheeljack made to pull away but strong servos kept his head in place.
"No! Mine." The Medic growled and Wheeljack's spark fluttered when curious fingers traced his scar before a smooth and wet glossa followed the touch. Gentle touches now against his faceplates made Wheeljack's internal engine hum with satisfaction and pleasure that his flaw had not chased away his Ratchet.
How long had he wanted this? Why hadn't he done this sooner? Oh, he had been waiting for Ratchet to realize that there was more to their sparks calling for one another than an accident. That and he truly was perpetually shy, his advances at courting were seen as a considerate friend rather than a love interest. He wasn't so sure if he should be hurt by that fact or just let it slide. Whatever had prompted this tirade, the engineer wasn't going to complain.
"R-Ratchet? P-please let go for a moment." Wheeljack begged finally realizing that the delicate crystal flower in his servo had almost slipped and shattered against the floor.
"No!" The Medic yelped, the whine in Ratchet's vocalizer was easily recognizable just as it was a command. Wheeljack shuddered pleasantly at that. His free servo come up to rest against Ratchet's white helm, a murmured comfort when he traced careful fingers across a gleaming silver chevron. Using his added bulk to easily flip their currently meshed position. Wheeljack's servo discretely reached behind him to deposit the delicate crystal on a table before it shattered ― either because of the force of his grip or slipping to the floor. Once both his servos were free Wheeljack smiled at Ratchet; immediately putting his newly freed appendage to work in driving his little Medic crazy. There would be time enough later for him to give Ratchet the flower of peace and fertility.
Delicate rubs to Ratchet's chevron had the Medic pressing into him more firmly, those sweet lips parted to a shine of lubricant and heated arousal. Wheeljack had never seen Ratchet like this, both in complete command and desperately needy even though he was the one dolling out the torture at that moment in time. He whispered little comforts to his newly found lover.
"'Jack! Please. M-more." The soft plea made a shudder travel through Wheeljack's frame as he, for the first time, set about to claim those sweet luscious lips for his own. The slide of metal against was soft at first, the taste of sweet lubricants and a wet glossa made both of them moan as their heated frames touched, dragging each other closer to touch one another as possible. Those glistening lip plates parted at the first swipe of Wheeljack's glossa across Ratchet's bottom lip. The touch was eager and welcoming as a purr of contentment vibrated against his chassis from Ratchet's engine.
Ratchet growled deep in his vocalizer when Wheeljack pulled away. He wanted more damn it! Not caring for the static that split the interface tension filled air; Ratchet lunged forward with a different intent. His servos winding around Wheeljack's neck components as he dug expert fingers into sensitive wires and cables. The effect was almost immediate, Wheeljack let out a loud yelp of surprise and arousal as the moment shattered with want and need. It was now almost as tangible as the sparking charges that jumped between Wheeljack's wandering servos towards Ratchet's chassis and he couldn't help but allow his spark to reign free over his emotional processors and logical circuits; there was no more time to fight this anymore than he already had. Those touches, so gentle and sweet was enough for Ratchet to forget his supposed anger at his newly discovered lover for leaving him feeling spark broken.
"Y-you k-knew." Ratchet said with a keening whine when the thought crashed through his processor. It wasn't a question, it was a simple statement. One that made Wheeljack pause, haunted blue optics locked with his in an affirmation. Ratchet's distressed vocalizer was spitting static and feedback in disbelief.
"W-why d-didn't you -t-tell me?" He forced from his fritzzing vocalizer, sounding hurt and rejected.
"It was something you had to learn for yourself, beloved." Ratchet keened but whether it was in sadness or pleasure neither 'bots knew. Knowing Ratchet it could have been anger too. His protest was suddenly interrupted by lip plates sealing over a sensitive neck cable that had Ratchet reeling, his body trying to press more into Wheeljack and disappear into his spark. His internal cooling fans now a low whine as they worked to disperse the heat gathering across a red and white frame. That slightly painful but pleasurable bite broke Ratchet's resolve completely. Cherry servos curled around shoulder plates, slipping onto Wheeljack's back as he sought out the seams of one of those two fluttering winglets. The sensitivity and the force of Ratchet's gliding touch had Wheeljack moaning and growling against his neck, a teasing glossa tracing his audial receiver with a new intent to drive Ratchet insane and as retaliation.
Ratchet moaned deeply even though a satisfied smile split his lip plates, his fingers digging deeper into Wheeljack's winglets to produce more pleasure. He needed this, this frantic reassurance that he wasn't dreaming and that someone really wanted him for him and not the front he often put up. When Wheeljack's own retaliation hit by nibbling his chevron Ratchet's pedes buckled beneath him. Optics shuttered seductively as Ratchet moaned, his servos now holding onto those winglets for dear life before he crashed to the floor in an undignified heap. Not to be outdone by surprises, Ratchet let his head lower in something he had always wanted to do. Lips parted and a sleek glossa traced over flashing audial fins, the cry he extracted from Wheeljack was all the Medic wanted to hear. They were just as sensitive as he wished they would be and just as sensitive as his own chevron.
"B-berth." Ratchet managed to croak, his entire frame shuddering with his over fraught arousal. He was no longer in control but Ratchet didn't care. He revelled in the fact that Wheeljack was the one that he willingly submitted to and he would do it for no one else. The tension in the air did not falter one notch when Wheeljack pulled back to drag him towards that berth chamber, in fact the anticipation only mounted. Ratchet felt a gentle push against the glass of his chassis before he went tumbling onto the soft spread of berth coverings. Sensitive back struts being rubbed by soft covers caused another moan to spring forth, Ratchet writhed beneath Wheeljack ― who was now hovering above his frame ― a servo resting against Ratchet's thigh.
"Wheeljack!" A delighted cry echoed through the room when grey fingers slipped upward, Ratchet's pedes resting against the berth to cradle his lover closer to his overheating interface panel. Slow, teasing fingers traced lazy patterns across Ratchet's interface panel, a lazy smirk curling Wheeljack's lip plates as he teased his lover incessantly just to watch that beautifully pure white frame shudder and writhe in rapture beneath his fingers.
"Tell me what you want love." He purred seductively ignoring his own desperate need to interface.
Ratchet's frame literally vibrated against the berth in need, he howled when he slid his interfacing panel back - the cool atmospheric pressure teasing his dripping wet valve more than Wheeljack's expert servos had. He was trembling against the need for more intimate touch; flashing warnings drifted across his HUD. His over worked core temperature spiking another degree when a lazy servo decided to pay attention to his most desperate yearning. A finger slipping into his wet heat made Ratchet's chassis arch into Wheeljack, a glossa slipping between his lip plates in a passionate kiss that left his processor reeling for more.
"Tell me Lover, tell me what you need." That low seductive purr made Ratchet scream in frustration.
"Y-you and s-s-sp-spark, b-b-oth!" Ratchet finally managed to force from his pleasure fritzzing vocalizer. There was a klik of silence, the two fingers buried beneath him stilled and made Ratchet whine with need. When they started to retract Ratchet's own servo curled around Wheeljack's wrist component to keep his hand where it was, buried deep within him as his valve clenched and spasmed around them.
"NO!" Ratchet wailed desperately. He didn't want Wheeljack to stop. His frantic shivering stilled a bit when a mouth curled around the edge of his chevron and sucked on the tip gently.
"Are you sure Ratch? There's no turning back if we do." Wheeljack warned. His own spark was jumping in its casing at the prospect of bonding with the writhing Medic beneath him but he had to make sure. Even though they were definitely spark mates, some couples waited a long time before that bonding.
"D-damn it W-w-h-heel-jack! Y-y-es. I-I w-ant it!" Ratchet hissed between clenched denta, his helm thrown back when those gentle touches inside his valve started moving again. He knew he wouldn't be able to continue if Wheeljack didn't bond with him, he'd nearly fallen into Spark Withdrawal when Wheeljack had pulled away from him a few orns ago. Maybe it was the fact that his Carrier protocols were excited with the possibility of making a little creation or his spark finally having recognized its mate but Ratchet didn't care. He. Wanted. It. Now.
"Okay Lover." Wheeljack whispered into an audial receiver softly, his fingers retracting from Ratchet's valve. He didn't miss the low whine or the way Ratchet's servos dug deeper into his back plating with frustration. Once their bond was established they would explore each other's bodies to their own explosive contentment. But now wasn't the time to take it slow anymore.
Wheeljack hissed when he released his spike, already pressurized with the heat of his body. He pushed Ratchet more firmly into the berth and captured those innocent lips in a heated caress, moving on instinct alone he pressed the tip of his spike into Ratchet's valve. The touch had an instantaneous effect on Ratchet as the Medic arched beneath him, his hips slamming upwards to bury the heated length inside himself. For Ratchet the stretch was slightly painful but he didn't care, he wanted Wheeljack in every way possible.
"Primus Ratchet!" Wheeljack swore as the tight, wet heat engulfed his entire spike and made his processor spin. "Go easy on yourself Lover. I'm not going anywhere." Ratchet wasn't completely convinced but his processor stopped working when Wheeljack pulled back slightly and pushed back. The sensor nodes inside his valve tickled and pressed so that the charge that had been building inside him slowly, suddenly expanded to engulf both of them. Sensor nets twined together in an effort to bring forth more pleasure, encouragement and love was exchanged easily.
"P-p-please!" Ratchet wailed loudly, Wheeljack's thrusts were too shallow and too slow to truly satisfy the immense charge that was building within his circuits. When Wheeljack's movements became more frantic and less careful Ratchet let go, his back struts arching high as cries of ecstasy resounded through his vocalizer, even the static couldn't hide his ultimate pleasure. His spark was beating frantically in his chest and Ratchet keened when Wheeljack leant over him, sly denta nibbled across his chevron and Ratchet sobbed. He knew that his chevron was sensitive and he was happy his lover could exploit it but the pleasure was getting too much for him.
"C-c-close." He managed to draw out of his vocalizer, his valve clenching around Wheeljack's spike in anticipation for the overload he felt creeping over his systems and integrated into his circuits. He was trembling in slight apprehension when Wheeljack's armoured chest split open to reveal the glowing spark chamber beneath.
"Open for me Love." Wheeljack purred, his own voice unsteady in his momentary bliss. His one servo dug into Ratchet's cherry red hip plates whilst he trailed the other over a white abdomen and rested it on the glass front of Ratchet's chassis. He tapped his fingers against the glass and gasped when Ratchet's panels slid open, the brilliant dark blue of his spark overwhelmingly bright, warm and inviting to his optics.
"So beautiful." He whispered in awe, his own spark chamber sliding open fully for his beloved. There was a moment where everything hung in the balance, a future, a creation, a lover and a broken spark but a nanoklik later and Wheeljack leant forward. His lips seeking out his Ratchet before he brought their sparks together in a touch of certainty and promise.
For Ratchet his entire world shattered and rebuilt itself around Wheeljack. The moment tendrils of Wheeljack's spark reached out to him Ratchet was filled with the sense of true completeness. The first touch was so intense with emotion and the absolute feeling of rightness that his vocalizer shut down from overuse. Memories, thoughts, emotions and experiences were passed between them. A link blessed by Primus himself shifted and formed, an explosion of pleasure. A feedback loop of ultimate pleasure and desire. Vorns of pain, vorns of petty denial and finally a single klik of acceptance shuddered through the newly forming bond. A sense of pride, understanding and finally infinite love. An eternity of promise and love, there was no place for being separated. The overwhelming sorrow of being alone dissolved into nothingness.
White hot pleasure a final interlude to the ultimate, spark deep, processor shattering overload.
~Private Quarters: Berth Chamber~
Dark blue optics online slowly, a pleasant touch of togetherness brushed against Ratchet's spark and he curled further into his lover's embrace. Lazy satisfaction drifted through his circuits and looped in a continuous stream of true contentment. He had never had an overload so powerful, never experienced the love Wheeljack held for him first hand but finally he understood what he had been denying his spark.
His spark was now dancing in contentment in his spark chamber, the overwhelming emotions he was sure was a mixture between him and Wheeljack as they now shared an intimate bond.
::My Beloved Starling.:: Ratchet purred across their newly created bond. His vocalizer was basically fried but he could fix that later, he was sure he had shattered at least one of Wheeljack's audial fins with his volume. If this was how it was going to be every time he and Wheeljack interfaced Ratchet would be looking forward to it. His circuits were still tingling with his overload and he was sure that Wheeljack was much the same.
::Ratch?:: Came the sleepy reply to his fluttering emotions.
::Hmm Starling? What is it?:: He asked gently, his lips pressing against Wheeljack's helm in comfort. Light blue optics onlined as lazily as his own. A deep chuckle reverberated through Wheeljack's chassis as Ratchet was pulled closer to his bonded.
::I love you.:: He said through their bond and Ratchet knew it wasn't a lie.
::I know 'Jack. I love you too.::
::R-R-R-ATCHET!:: Dark blue optics blinked up at the Energon tears now dripping onto his face plates and the slick feeling of an newly sliced Energon line made him cringe. He had felt Wheeljack do it through the bond they shared and it made him a bit sick to know his beloved would go so far for him. Even now as his own chassis was stained with his beloved's life force he tried to give as much comfort as he could.
He could only managed a small smile and a soft croon; desperately ignoring the clatter of Wheeljack's Energon blade as it fell from lax fingers onto the ground below. He smiled only for his Wheeljack. Even though he was disappointed 'Jack had decided to follow him to the Well of Sparks he wasn't complaining, even now his spark was happy that he would never be alone. He didn't know how long he would have been able to survive without Wheeljack sitting and looking over his injured self. In fact Ratchet was sure that he had lived longer that he was supposed to.
A gentle servo curled within his, Wheeljack's body a solid warmth next to and above him as he laid with his head in a comforting lap. A flicker of sorrow running through their bond as Ratchet dreaded the reaction his two creations would feel at their loss. He had carried Sideswipe and Sunstreaker with such pride as their carrier and Ratchet had never seen Wheeljack as happy as he had been when he was and is still their proud sire. That was his only regret, his little sparklings would now have to live without them. They had been the light of a very dark time aboard the Ark and many had adopted them into the system pretty easily even though their pranks could drive their only carrier into insanity.
"'Jack. Love you." He whispered with the last of his strength, his words surprisingly clear as his spark sputtered with effort to keep him online. A whisper in the wind and his consciousness was gone, his lover following him moments later with a slump in shoulder plates as Wheeljack's still protected his Love even in his death. A gust of wind, a flurry of snow and the purity of their deaths stung the air as stars above mourned their loss. There was nothing more to be done, pain and sorrow was spark deep and heart wrenching to feel.
Curled together was eventually how they were found when the battle wound down to a complete stop. The only casualties of what should have been an easy win. It was the wailing cries of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe that cast a deep contrast to the silence that befell the entirety of the Autobot front-line. The two most reckless front-liners wailed their grief and forgot their place in society. Now matter that they were already in their adult frames for more than several vorns, they still curled next to the bodies of their carrier and sire. Each taking a side and wailed their desperate pain. The twin bond they shared flared to life and was only filled with double the pain and double the sorrow.
"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe! Stand down!" They heard nothing; the twins refused to acknowledge their leader and refused to move even when ordered. The sorrow was palpable in the air and stained the entire crew with the dread of the upcoming kliks. There was no longer a CMO to subdue the howling twins or a head engineer to calm his creations. It was total and utter chaos as they scrambled to try and separate the creations from their creators. Every single Autobot bearing witness to the act was worried that the twins would follow their creators not soon after they reached home.
1* Beloved Starling - I borrowed the endearment 'Starling' from another awesome author who wrote a oneshot between Ratchet and Optimus Prime, a very good oneshot that I loved. I thought it would be fitting in this oneshot.
2* ECU - Emergency Care Unit
3* Astrovolts - My own unit, you can probably guess what it is.
That's all the notes I can think of, if I missed something and you're confused please don't hesitate to ask I'll answer it as soon as I can. All I can say is a true heartfelt thank you for reading! I really appreciate it and if you enjoyed it please leave me a review and a rating I would really appreciate it. It means a lot to hear from my reader.
See you guys again soon