Golden

Ratchet suspected that things had started to go downhill the moment the Autobots had encountered Sunstorm.

His name first came to them over intel – the Autobot forces weren’t on Cybertron currently, but they kept an eye on Shockwave when they could, and the femmes always tried to keep them in the know to Megatron’s plans back on the home world. No one really knew what to think of Sunstorm at first, but when the reports began rolling in, they quickly realized just how serious the situation actually was.

Sunstorm was something of a pet project of Shockwave's, and an unsuccessful one at that (useful, powerful, but about as obedient as the Dinobots). The electrum-laden seeker had been somewhat defiant when entrusted with the task of destroying the Autobots, if not absolutely unwilling to adhere to Megatron’s direct orders. Sunstorm had quickly gone rogue. While that was a small miracle in and of itself, it wasn’t like Sunstorm hadn't been a problem for the Autobots anyway; he caused a great deal of damage during his trek over the planet Earth, despite having no interest in the Autobots’ destruction or the humans themselves.

Cybertron and Earth had suffered a great deal in his mission, as a matter of fact, and while the seeker did not attack unless provoked, it was impossible for the Autobots to allow him to roam free when his very presence could kill them or the humans, just from the radiation that emitted from his distorted energy source.

Having discovered another pool of electrum earlier in the summer, Megatron had been wise enough to send it to Shockwave instead of haphazardly dipping in himself and starting the senseless battle again (as entertaining as that invincible battle had been, it really ended up being a waste of time and effort). While in Shockwave’s possession, the electrum had evidently been refined, and eventually grafted to the armor plating of what seemed to be of a seeker mold. Probably one of the Rain Makers that Shockwave had at his disposal – this seemed to be supported by the name ‘Sunstorm’.

Although, as far as the Autobots could tell, Sunstorm had no knowledge prior to his awakening.

Vector Sigma had been unwilling to create the new being's spark due to Alpha Trion’s presence in the AI. Sunstorm would not be created as the Aerialbots and the Stunticons once had been created. Because of this, Shockwave had been forced to create a mockery of a spark. A tainted energy source – one that Ratchet still hadn’t put his finger on – intense enough to power the new Cybertronian, powerful enough to make him a living weapon. The radiation that the seeker emitted was deadly in itself – this, coupled with his regenerative capabilities and his strength, made him a very worrisome foe. Sunstorm had been given power beyond what any normal Cybertronian could bear, only able to carry it because of his impenetrable armor plating. Whatever the case, the spark was artificial, and would probably only burn itself out eventually.

Megatron probably hadn’t intended to keep Sunstorm all that long anyway.

Shockwave and Megatron were not foolish enough to believe just having a toxic, powerful energy source was enough to defeat the Autobots. Sunstorm needed great intelligence, cunning – and that's when they decided to download the core of Vector Sigma's database into the clone's mind, through force.

The results had been far from satisfactory for either side. Omega Supreme and Skyfire had both attempted to fight the seeker head-on, without much success. Megatron’s own soldiers intervened, with similar results – those who could still stand retreated quickly, and hadn’t been seen since. The Decepticons were hiding away in their base like fthe cowards they were.

Instead of serving one faction or another, Sunstorm felt it was his duty to serve Primus, and only Primus. But the nature of their idol was enigmatic, and it was clear that Sunstorm didn't have much of an idea what he was really supposed to be doing, in the end.

Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Perceptor used the seeker's seeming indecisiveness to their advantage, constructing a force shield that would activate when they lured him into the correct area. Of course, this meant that someone had to coax the psychotic, deadly seeker into position. Wheeljack had taken to this opportunity with alarming enthusiasm. When they had decided on a place to hide the force shield (a strip of barren land not especially far from their base), Wheeljack immediately set to drawing the seeker down from the skies.

The plan was really quite simple. Shoot at Sunstorm till he saw fit to attack back. Wheeljack was fitted with the proper shielding, but it was hardly going to be enough if the seeker got it in his head that Wheeljack needed to die. The armor also somewhat limited Wheeljack's ability to move, which was even more alarming, and more dangerous. If Wheeljack was scared, though, he certainly didn't give any indication of it.

Perceptor had honestly seemed more terrified than Wheeljack did, immediately launching into a plethora of reasons that Wheeljack shouldn’t do this, and noting every single conceivable negative outcome. Perceptor barely stopped long enough to let Ratchet get a word in edgewise, so the medic took to mostly ignoring him.

Ratchet should have known what was coming right then and there, but he didn't. He gave Perceptor a few nudges, frowned a bit, and made a point to inform Perceptor that it wasn't like they were going to be in danger – it was just Wheeljack. This seemed to only make Perceptor that much more inconsolable, that much more frustrated.

Ratchet had figured it must be nerves over capturing the rogue seeker that had Perceptor so frazzled, and Ratchet let it go. After all, if Perceptor wanted to panic and fuss, then that was his business, not Ratchet's. Besides, Ratchet didn’t quite know what he was supposed to say or do if Perceptor didn't tell him what the problem was in the first place.

Ratchet should have known why Perceptor was so worried – he should have suspected that it had to do with Wheeljack specifically. He kind of felt stupid that he didn't realize it straight away.

The plan was, surprisingly, quite effective. Sunstorm didn't fight unless provoked, but when he was provoked, he was hell to deal with. Wheeljack got a bit beat up, but managed to get away in time for them to put up the force shield, trapping Sunstorm in place. The seeker frantically flew and hit the invisible barriers like a bug in a jar, but it was to no avail – he was stuck, and their job was done. Wheeljack limped back to base, tossing his cumbersome armor side with every step. He was singed, and still a bit overheated, but he was in good shape nevertheless.

Perceptor was almost bouncing with excitement when they were informed of Wheeljack's success. Ratchet remembered the look of cautious joy on Perceptor's face as he stared at the door. When Wheeljack finally came in, Perceptor ran over to him in a nano-klik, throwing his arms around Wheeljack's shoulders in a tight embrace. The engineer flinched, but his arms went around Perceptor's waist nevertheless.

Perceptor had leaned up and coyly kissed Wheeljack's mask.

Ratchet's spark sank.

Ratchet wasn't jealous, and he certainly wasn't in love with either Wheeljack or Perceptor – quite the opposite. He was absolutely furious with them.

In his position, Ratchet had to deal with a lot of spark mates. As such, he had to deal with the inconsolable Autobots whining when their bonded was injured in battle, and he had to be there when Autobots lost their spark mates. Ratchet had to tell them when their bonded's spark was beginning to extinguish despite everything he had done to try and save them, and when their bonded had finally offlined. It left him bitter to the novelty of spark mates, after so long – no one should have a spark mate in the middle of a war. It was a danger, a distraction, and a weakness all in one neat little package, and the only positive part of it was a few good interfaces and maybe some good company for a few solar cycles. Why no one else seemed to realize this was beyond him.

What really got Ratchet, though, was that Wheeljack and Perceptor were the two that seemed to understand this the way Ratchet did. They’d suffered the same losses and the same unique view of spark mates that he did. Every time a partnership formed, Wheeljack and Perceptor were right there with Ratchet while he explained to the partners why it was such a bad idea. They were there was he laid out the dangers of creating a spark bond – if you were hurt in battle, your bonded felt it as well, and that could potentially be paralyzing. Even someone as coolly logical as Prowl or as strong as Omega Supreme would be vulnerable in light of an injured spark mate.

On the battlefield, that kind of weakness only got both Autobots killed.

Wheeljack and Perceptor knew this damn well. Yet, Ratchet kept catching them sitting too close together, holding hands, exchanging looks that were not strictly professional. It was enough to make Ratchet feel like he’d contracted a bad virus.

Everywhere he looked, there were bonds. He’s talked to almost every one of these Autobots, and they were all completely incorrigible. He still caught Mirage and Hound exchanging coy little kisses when they thought no one was looking. He still saw Blaster and Jazz dancing together all the live long day. He still heard Sunstreaker and Tracks murmuring ridiculous irrelevant nothings to each other when they thought no one was listening.

More alarmingly, Omega Supreme and Silverbolt seemed to be sharing some sort of a bond as well, although Ratchet wasn’t really sure what it was or what it meant – but he wasn’t about to confront someone who could step on him without a second thought. All he knew was that he sometimes saw Omega Supreme holding Silverbolt up, letting him fly a short distance before he rounded back to Omega and landed on the guardian’s arm. Silverbolt would clutch at the guardian tightly but still smiling even though he was probably terrified.

That particular relationship only served to frustrate Ratchet further. Omega Supreme, of all Autobots, should know the dangers of getting too attached to something when everything was so fragile. In the end, most Autobots were only going to end up losing what they wanted the most. They’d already lost their home, their possessions, their families – what made any of them believe that they could hold onto a mate? Yet, Omega still smiled in a way Ratchet hadn’t seen before (given the guardian’s penchant for anger), and Silverbolt smiled back, and Ratchet could only imagine what pain they were inevitably going to go through in the end. It wouldn’t last forever – nothing did.

Whatever the case was, Ratchet was frustrated. Wheeljack and Perceptor were the closest friends he had – they always worked with him, and they were always good company. The last thing he wanted for them was for either of them to end up getting hurt. The last thing he would ever want is to see one die and the other suffer.

Sunstorm was frightened – it was painfully easy to tell. Whatever had been done to him during his creation had been carried out so haphazardly that his own mental state – while intended to be constructed as fully matured – was actually more like a sparkling’s than anything else. So, trapped as he was, Sunstorm’s first impulse was to start chirping dramatically like he about to get offlined.

Seekers always were an overdramatic bunch.

Mostly, Ratchet tried to ignore the way his spark jolted unpleasantly at the sound of every childish chirp. It was hotwired into every Autobot to react to the sounds of a sparkling, to have an impulsive need to soothe the other’s pain. Organics didn’t seem to be that much different in that respect, really. The need to protect what was small and helpless was ingrained in humans just like it was Cybertronians.

‘Stop your crying,’ said Ratchet moodily, settling down at the very outer edge of the force shield. He began to unpack the medical supplies he had brought with him. ‘You aren’t offlining anytime soon.’

Sunstorm quieted after a few moments, crossing his arms and holding himself in that irritatingly familiar haughty stance that all seekers did. It meant he was embarrassed but didn’t want to admit it. Starscream always tended to look the same way after getting a good beating from Megatron in front of the Autobots (if he could still stand at all, anyway).

‘I’m not here to hurt you,’ said Ratchet, feeling impatient. ‘So just sit your aft down and let me work in silence. I don’t want you to stay in the force field forever either, you know.’

Sunstorm looked wary, but he drew closer to the edge of the force shield, his fingertips cautiously settling against the reddish energy barrier. Ratchet tried not to think how much radiation was just a few feet away from him, only separated by that single membrane of energy. And really, there wasn’t much keeping the field up – all the power had been diverted from his lab, but that wasn’t foolproof. One bad overload in the system and Ratchet would be fried before he could possibly escape.

Sunstorm kneeled down at the edge of the field, trying to get a good look at Ratchet’s supplies. Ratchet irritably moved the items away from Sunstorm’s line of vision, disappointing the seeker – luckily he didn’t seem to want to put up an argument over it.

‘Who are you?’ asked Sunstorm quietly.

‘Name’s Ratchet,’ said the Autobot, sounding perfectly and utterly uninviting. ‘I’m the medic, and it looks like I’m stuck with you for a while, Decepticon.’

‘My creator called me Sunstorm,’ said the seeker needlessly.

It was nice to see some seekers had manners.

Ratchet spent a great deal of his time finding good ways to avoid Perceptor and Wheeljack. If Sunstorm was good for anything, it was as an excuse to get out of the lab. True, almost all their research on the seeker was done in the lab, but Wheeljack and Perceptor seemed to be taking care of that well enough on their own – between impromptu spark bondings, probably.

Ratchet mostly tried not to think about it.

Sunstorm watched him patiently, hovering at the edge of the force shield as he usually did. They didn’t speak often – Sunstorm was afraid of him, or Ratchet was afraid of Sunstorm. Either way, it was always awkward and neither was particularly comfortable with it.

‘You’ve run that test seven times already,’ pointed out Sunstorm calmly.

Ratchet grunted in response. ‘Believe it or not, I know that,’ he quipped back, silencing Sunstorm for a few moments.

Acerbity was still a little lost on the young seeker. That was no reason for Ratchet to hold back, though – Sunstorm was going to have to learn about negative attitudes and verbal aggression sooner or later, after all.

The seeker looked away a few times, clearly struggling to find an adequate response. For a while, Ratchet was able to work in silence.

‘It is illogical to run that test again,’ said Sunstorm conceitedly. ‘Either you don’t know what you’re doing, or you’re purposefully wasting your time. Why are you stalling?’

Ratchet made a sound of exasperation, giving the seeker a glare. ‘I ain’t stalling,’ he snapped. ‘I’m tracking the fluctuations in your energy output. I’m seeing if it changes. Believe it or not, that requires more than one test! Just stay there and be quiet!’

Sunstorm ignored the demand. ‘My energy output is sporadic,’ he said calmly. ‘I know that – you could have simply asked me.’

‘I never trust the word of a Decepticon.’

The seeker’s gold optics pulsed with irritation. ‘I am not certain I know what that is,’ he responded. ‘I am a disciple of Primus – not a Decepticon. They are of no concern to me, even if it was the Decepticons who created me. I am of Primus.’

Ratchet suppressed a groan – this was not a talk he wanted to get into with Sunstorm. In his own early years, Ratchet had been as pious as could be. Read the scriptures studiously, followed the teachings, quoted the holy writ – but then the war came, and there wasn’t time for that anymore, and the questionable morality of everything they were forced to do to survive made it impossible to follow the same path that Primus supposedly wished of them. After so long, he just forgot to believe in it at all. Being a medic, and seeing the things he did, and feeling so many sparks extinguished beneath his hands… it was hard to want to believe at all. Out of all of the Autobots, only a couple still read the old scriptures.

For a while, Ratchet worked in some silence, although he could feel Sunstorm staring at him, probably trying to exert some logic through that jumbled mental processor of his.

‘If you disagree with me,’ said Sunstorm thoughtfully. ‘Why are you trying to help me?’

‘Because it’s my job.’

Sunstorm cocked his head slightly – a ridiculous, birdlike gesture that made Ratchet question how closely Sunstorm had observed the organics around him.

‘Job?’

‘Yes,’ explained Ratchet impatiently. ‘It’s what I do – what I’m trained in, what I’m built for. When someone needs repair, I’m the one who does it. Doesn’t matter who it is – Decepticon, Autobot, or even someone like you. I’m supposed to fix what’s broken. Just like Perceptor uses science to help us learn about the things we don’t know about, and like Wheeljack builds… whatever it is he wants to build.’

Sunstorm seemed to accept this concept. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘Is it their job to help anyone too? Decepticon, Autobot, or me?’

That was a bit trickier to answer. ‘Well, no,’ said Ratchet slowly. ‘Their job usually is to help us get at the Decepticons or individuals such as yourself.’

Ratchet answered Sunstorm’s next question before it could be asked. ‘But it isn’t my job to hurt anyone, and they’re helping me do my job right now. So they’re going to help me take care of you. Understand?’

‘Not really.’

Ratchet shrugged dismissively. ‘Too bad.’

An energy siphon was going to be necessary if they ever wanted to work on Sunstorm’s internals without their own processors melting in the process (not even something like an energy siphon could guarantee their safety, though, but Ratchet would have to trust Perceptor’s word that it would work).

The siphon wasn’t going to do Sunstorm much good right away, but in the long run, it was better they started to reconstruct his internal energy processes before he got someone killed – purposefully or not. It was a miracle no one had offlined in his presence yet.

Unfortunately, Ratchet and Wheeljack were both needed in order to actually construct the siphon itself. Perceptor himself would be responsible for tweaking it after its completion, but the basic construction was left entirely up to them.

Wheeljack never danced around a subject that was bothering him – neither did Ratchet, for that matter, but that was why he took to simply avoiding Wheeljack altogether lately. Sunstorm wasn’t terrible company, anyway, even if he was irritatingly curious.

‘You’re avoiding Perceptor and me,’ said Wheeljack flatly.

Ratchet worked on the siphon determinedly, not looking up to meet his friend’s optics. ‘I am not,’ he said flatly. ‘I’m just doing my job. I needed to monitor Sunstorm’s energy output–’

‘–which could have been done just as well from the lab,’ Wheeljack pointed out. ‘Admit it – you’re avoiding us.’ Wheeljack made a sound of amusement – despite the subject, he was still smiling in that indefinable way he always did when he thought someone was being ridiculous. Ratchet hated that. ‘Ratchet, think of who you’re dealing with here. I’m not dense, and I’m not going to believe some phony excuse about monitoring energy output.’

Ratchet emitted a sigh of exasperation – probably a habit he picked up from watching Sparkplug. Ratchet pulled back from the device to look at Wheeljack fully. He didn’t really want to get Wheeljack upset while they were working – no matter what it was, Wheeljack had an amazing knack for blowing up his work when he was distracted or irritated.

‘Wheeljack,’ said Ratchet. ‘I don’t know what got in your processors, but this thing with Perceptor has got to stop.’ Before Wheeljack could start to throw a fit like all spark mates did when it came down to this, Ratchet continued. ‘And I know you aren’t going to listen to me. No one ever listens to me about this – well, I thought you and Perceptor got it, but I guess you didn’t.’

Wheeljack looked up thoughtfully for a few moments. ‘I agree with you,’ said Wheeljack. ‘It’s dangerous, and it might not even amount to anything at all. Might even kill me. But you see, when I put it in those terms, I realized it’s not all the different from the things I build. Remember the Dinobots?’

Wheeljack laughed. ‘I know that a little too much base mixed with acid and I’m a goner. I take that chance all the time, so why not give this thing with Perceptor a shot? If it works, it’ll be worth it.’

Ratchet gave the engineer a skeptical glance. ‘What about him?’ he asked hotly. ‘What if you hurt him? Don’t you worry about that?’

‘Well, sure I do,’ said Wheeljack. ‘But when we bond, I… have you ever spark bonded?’

Ratchet made a derisive sound. ‘No.’

Wheeljack shrugged a bit, unperturbed. ‘Well, when you bond, you kind of feel the other spark, like it’s your own. You feel what your bonded feels – and because of that, I know I make Perceptor happy whenever I’m with him. And he knows he makes me happy.’ Wheeljack busied himself in his work with far more enthusiasm. ‘It makes everything seem a lot simpler when I feel his spark. And even if I lost him, I don’t think I’d ever regret that I made him happy while he was here.’

Ratchet was quiet for a few moments as he considered what Wheeljack said, but ultimately, he felt it was just slag. Wheeljack didn’t understand – he couldn’t. Not even Ratchet could really know what it was like to lose a bonded, but he watched enough Autobots lose their mates to know the end result.

‘Justify it all you want,’ said Ratchet finally. ‘But if either of you die, if that bond breaks, I’m going to be here to pick up the pieces. And it won’t be pretty.’

‘I’m sorry, Ratchet,’ said Wheeljack, not sounding particularly sorry at all. ‘But you know I’m not going to leave him. After all, no one ever listens to you, right?’

Sunstorm did not trust anyone other than Ratchet.

There was no real explanation behind this fact, except that maybe Sunstorm imprinted just like a sparkling would imprint to a caretaker. After all, Ratchet was the only one since Shockwave that had spent any time with Sunstorm in a context other than violence, and while Sunstorm did not need energon (his own energy source was more than adequate), Ratchet still did supply Sunstorm with whatever necessities the seeker required.

The only other alternative was that maybe Sunstorm was just a stuck-up, fussy seeker who only associated himself with the ones he considered worthy of his time (Ratchet strongly suspected this was the reason).

Whatever the case, Sunstorm was not particularly receptive to the idea of Perceptor being the one to test the energy siphon on him. Perceptor explained it to Sunstorm, in that confusing way Perceptor always explained those sorts of things, and Sunstorm was – to put in simple terms – extremely displeased. Sunstorm didn’t panic, or chirp, or blow a fuse, or try and kill Perceptor – but he did say, quite clearly and quite inarguably, that he would tear Perceptor to little pieces if he dared to lower the force shield.

Perceptor wisely did not see fit to test if this was a valid threat.

Ratchet did not ask Sunstorm that night if he would allow Ratchet to test the siphon on him instead – for the time being, Ratchet didn’t really want to try. He would have to have a special armor created for him beforehand, and that would take Wheeljack a few cycles to construct for him. When the force shield was lowered, he would have to trust that Sunstorm also did not escape. And then, when the siphon was in place, Ratchet was going to have to do a check over of Sunstorm’s internals, and determine what could be done for the seeker – if anything, really.

‘What if the Autobots decide that I’m impossible to repair?’ asked Sunstorm, approaching the area where Ratchet was sitting. ‘Will I be offlined?’

‘That isn’t what I do, Sunstorm.’

‘I see,’ responded Sunstorm.

Sunstorm eased himself even closer, taking a place next to Ratchet. The only barrier between them was the slight sheen of detectable energy of the force shield. Ratchet thought it was a shame that Sunstorm couldn’t see the stars clearly – it was a stunning night, and it reminded him of Cybertron. But that was a bit overly sentimental, and Ratchet discarded the thought quickly. If he did his job right, Sunstorm would have plenty of chances to be useless and stare at the night sky.

‘But if you can’t help me, what will happen?’ asked Sunstorm.

Ratchet knew that Sunstorm had every right to know his fate, that he should be told the truth – but at this point, Ratchet wasn’t entirely sure that he knew what would happen. Would an Autobot really be so heartless to kill a captive that wasn’t really even a Decepticon?

Had war pushed them that far yet?

‘I don’t know yet,’ said Ratchet wearily. ‘But try not to think about it too much, Sunstorm. We still have a lot of work to do before we ever decide it’s hopeless.’

‘How much work?’

Ratchet sighed and shook his head. ‘I don’t know yet,’ repeated Ratchet, a little more waspishly this time. ‘Let’s worry about that when we get a look at your spark, alright? I still need to run more tests.’

Sunstorm’s curiosity was not so easily abated. ‘What about my creators?’ he asked. ‘Won’t they try to get me back?’

Exasperated, Ratchet turned himself away from the force shield, burying himself in the menial task of once again monitoring the energy output. The force shield made it difficult to make an accurate reading, which was troublesome, but he couldn’t let Sunstorm out.

‘If they want to, fine,’ said Ratchet. ‘But they’re going to have a figure out a way of getting you out of there without offlining themselves in the process.’

As it turned out, the Decepticons were not particularly keen on getting Sunstorm back. As Ratchet had suspected, Sunstorm’s radiation had fried half of Shockwave’s computers before they’d been able to coax the seeker through the space bridge, and a few of the other Decepticons had been badly injured as well.

It wasn’t so much that Megatron didn’t want to use Sunstorm – Ratchet was positive that he certainly did – it was simply that none of the Decepticons could form a plan of attack that would have been foolproof. They couldn’t let Sunstorm out of the force shield without getting near him in the process, and even if they tried to keep their distance, the undoubted build up of radiation that would be released when the shield lowered would be fatal.

It was another one of those things that Ratchet tried his best not to think about too hard.

‘It shouldn’t take too long to take effect,’ said Ratchet, holding up the near completed energy siphon – a small, magnetic box that wasn’t particularly impressive to look at. ‘But I’ll be able to work on you, and I’ll see what kind of system Shockwave set up. I’ll be able to create a schematic and study it till I figure out something better.’

‘Can’t I just show you now?’

Ratchet shook his head, tapping the reddish field with his fingertip. ‘Can’t see it clearly enough through this field. I might need to move stuff around and take some readings I can’t through a force shield. Besides, I think my field generator’s going to blow if I run it continuously like this – and the last thing we need is this shield disappearing when I’m over here running tests.’ Ratchet sighed heavily, looking at Sunstorm fully. ‘You realize it might hurt a bit.’

Sunstorm considered this for a few moments before he responded. ‘That doesn’t matter,’ he said finally. ‘I think I’ve been in pain since I was created.’

‘You think? You don’t know?’

‘If I’ve never felt anything else, how would I?’

Ratchet restlessly hovered while Perceptor made the necessary adjustments to the energy sipfhon. It was very precise work, and Ratchet knew he sure as pit wasn’t helping by being restless and impatient, but it was difficult to stop himself. He wasn’t about to go out for a drink or try and do menial tasks to pass the time – it would only frustrate him further.

‘I am working as expeditiously as I can manage,’ said Perceptor, giving Ratchet a glance. ‘Perhaps you should sit down.’

Moodily, Ratchet did as Perceptor suggested, heavily planting himself down on a chair across from the scientist. It didn’t seem to him that Perceptor was being particularly expeditious at all – he spent more time staring at the device than anything else. Considering that Perceptor invented it himself, Perceptor should have damn well known how to work it.

‘If I had known you were so keen on having this completed today, I would have opted to work on this cycles ago, rather than recharging,’ said Perceptor, briefly glancing at Ratchet. ‘What has you so impatient?’

If Ratchet had wanted this to be done quickly – and he did – he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about what was troubling him. He would have reminded himself he was still angry with Perceptor, and that he had been pretty consistent with avoiding conversation with the scientist since he found out the nature of his relationship with Wheeljack. But Ratchet didn’t want to keep quiet – it wasn’t his way of doing things.

‘I don’t think anyone considered what the radiation might be doing to Sunstorm,’ said Ratchet. ‘Everyone’s been so worried about us getting killed, no one really wondered how it might affect him.’

Perceptor considered this quietly for a few moments. ‘But we do know he is stable, at least within himself,’ said Perceptor. ‘He has not shown any signs of damage – if anything, his regeneration is even more advanced than our own. And we know the electrum makes it impossible for the radiation to–’

Exasperated, Ratchet interrupted him. ‘Sunstorm’s in pain,’ he said flatly. ‘Stable or not, the radiation hurts him. His sensors aren’t all that much different from yours or mine – he’s just never known anything else, so he knows how to cope with it. But that still doesn’t mean he’s not in excruciating pain. I never suspected it, because he never gave indication of it – but he told me he was. And I believe him.’

‘Oh,’ said Perceptor, sounding startled and guilty all at one. ‘I… I didn’t realize. He seems so calm, so composed. Are you certain?’

‘Yes.’

Perceptor looked down at the siphon hard, considering. Both of them knew what that radiation could do – just a small dose of it grounded Omega Supreme, and Skyfire hadn’t fared much better when he came in contact with it. It was deeply excruciating, even in a very small amount. Whatever Sunstorm was silently enduring could be well beyond any pain that Ratchet or Perceptor had ever felt, much less coped with long-term.

‘Ratchet,’ said Perceptor slowly. ‘If we can’t repair him, maybe we’ll find its better if–’

‘No,’ said Ratchet harshly.

‘We may have to consider what is best for him, as well as the Autobots. As well as the humans.’ Perceptor set down the energy siphon briefly, meeting Ratchet’s gaze. ‘If we can’t find a way to reconstruct his energy source…’

‘Autobots don’t kill their patients,’ said Ratchet harshly. ‘We don’t do that – we’ve never done that. It’s a part of what being an Autobot is. We give everyone an equal chance.’

‘We can’t keep him caged forever,’ said Perceptor logically. ‘Not only would it be especially cruel to him, but the amount of energon we’re being forced to use to power the force shield is beginning to take its toll. He would only become a burden, and it would only put us in danger. And what if Megatron finds a way to retrieve him? What if Sunstorm flies too close to a human city?’

Ratchet crossed his arms, looking away. Yeah, what if, what if. They didn’t even really know what they were doing yet – why was this already an issue?

‘Ratchet, you’re a medic. What will you do if we can’t ever make the pain stop?’

Of course, there was really no good answer to this. Ratchet silently looked down at the ground, his hands clutching his knees tightly. After so much war and so much death, he still couldn’t stop himself from feeling this way. He couldn’t turn off his compassion and his intrinsic need to ease pain and repair wounds. The prospect of being unable to do either was unthinkable.

Perceptor reached out to lay a hand over Ratchet’s gently. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said honestly. ‘I certainly don’t mean to upset you – but I don’t want you to be disappointed in yourself if you realize there’s nothing that can be done. That doesn’t mean we won’t try everything–’

‘Save it,’ snapped Ratchet. ‘We don’t even know what we’re dealing with. Just finish working on that siphon and we’ll take this one step at a time.’

Ratchet would do whatever it took to help. It was in his nature to keep pushing even when it seemed impossible. If he hadn’t, Optimus Prime wouldn’t be with them, he would have lost many of his friends, his comrades. Sunstorm deserved as much of a chance as any of the other Autobots did.

Recharge was restless and disrupted prematurely several times throughout the course of the night. But Ratchet was determined to be fully recharged by the time he got to work – the last thing he needed was to be low on energy when he had to concentrate so heavily. So, he didn’t give into his instinct to get up and do something productive rather than just laying there in a pointless, irritated manner.

When he got back to Sunstorm, it was early morning – the sun had just barely risen, and everything was still a pale gold. Sunstorm was always awake when Ratchet got there – either that or Sunstorm just didn’t recharge, which was actually very likely considering just how powerful his energy source was.

‘Wheeljack and Perceptor were here,’ Sunstorm informed him indifferently. ‘They said the energy siphon was completed. They explained what it would do. I think they were trying to decide if I could endure the pain.’

‘What did you tell them?’

Sunstorm shrugged slightly, settling down in his usual spot next to the shield. ‘Pain is a trial of Primus,’ said Sunstorm. ‘I will not be a coward, no matter how difficult it may be.’

‘I see,’ said Ratchet, moving to sit at the edge of the field with Sunstorm. ‘Usually, I temporarily offline anyone who I’m going to work on. But I don’t really have that option with you, do I?’

‘No.’

‘I suppose that’s just as well,’ said Ratchet resignedly. ‘Did they say anything else?’

Sunstorm shook his head silently, but there was a look of curiosity on his face that prompted Ratchet to maintain his silence – Sunstorm had unanswered questions.

‘They were grasping each other,’ said Sunstorm, moving to put his hands together in example. ‘Their hands. I never saw Decepticons do that.’

Ratchet grimaced – Sunstorm was too curious for his own good. But, it was just another one of those things Sunstorm was going to have to learn. ‘Ah,’ said Ratchet awkwardly, trying to sound a little less bitter than he felt. ‘That’s because they’re spark mates. It’s a gesture of their connection.’

The seeker stared down at his own hand for a while. ‘If your repairs don’t work, I can never do that,’ he said, sounding perfectly calm and perfectly indifferent in a way that struck Ratchet as tragic. ‘I will never have a connection.’

‘You don’t need that in order to have a connection,’ said Ratchet uncomfortably. ‘A connection can be created by other things. It–’

Sunstorm’s hand gradually lifted, pressing flush against the force shield. His gold optics fixed on Ratchet’s unwaveringly. There was no question what the seeker wanted. It was small, just a gesture – but Ratchet couldn’t make Sunstorm understand just how complex it really was. Yet, almost of its own accord, Ratchet’s hand lifted, his fingers tentatively stroking over the seeker’s palm. He could feel the pressure in the shield where Sunstorm was pressing against it.

Ratchet pressed his hand against the seeker’s fully. An expression came over Sunstorm’s face. There was no word that Ratchet could place that would describe it. It was the first time, the very first, that Sunstorm had ever felt a connection – physical contact. Even though the shield, he could feel Ratchet’s pressure, he could see their hands placed against one another. Ratchet did not underestimate how much this meant to Sunstorm. Simple yet complicated, small yet filled with infinite meaning.

Hesitantly, Sunstorm withdrew. ‘Thank you.’

The energy siphon was not meant to be pleasant – it was meant to absorb the energy and radiation so quickly that Sunstorm’s toxic presence would not destroy Ratchet while he carried out the repairs. While Ratchet would indeed be given armor, it was only the most superficial shielding – he needed his optics, he needed his hands; armor would slow him too much, and would make him sloppy. It was a risk he had to take, and sadly, the energy siphon was something that Sunstorm would have to endure in order for them to reconstruct his internal energy processes.

Several things were to happen in quick succession. Ratchet was to deploy the siphon, and after the energy was lessened, the force shield would be taken down entirely – long enough for Wheeljack to essentially reboot the generator’s system and give it much needed maintenance – allow it time to cool down. Perceptor would be monitoring the data that Ratchet diverted back to base concerning Sunstorm’s configuration.

Ratchet himself would be elbow deep in radiation and wiring.

Whatever happened, Ratchet didn’t expect any part of the process to be smooth, nor pleasant.

‘You’re nervous,’ remarked Sunstorm for the umpteenth time.

‘I told you – I’ve never done anything like this before,’ snapped Ratchet, fussing with the armor he was snapping awkwardly into place. ‘I don’t know what to expect. I don’t even know if the siphon will work correctly, or long enough.’

‘So you’re frightened for your own life?’

‘Well, honestly, a little bit,’ said Ratchet. ‘But I’m more worried it’s going to take too much, and it’ll kill you in the process.’ Normally, Ratchet wouldn’t be so forward about this sort of thing to a patient – but Sunstorm took this revelation with as much grace as he usually did. Aside from his initial capture, and the pathetic whining that had ensued in his panic, Sunstorm was a rather mature, composed individual. Everything made Sunstorm curious, but didn’t necessarily frighten him.

‘Do you think I will die?’

It was almost disturbing how unperturbed Sunstorm sounded when he asked.

‘I will do anything and everything I can to ensure that you don’t,’ said Ratchet honestly.

The medic shifted awkwardly in his armor. He felt ridiculous wearing it, but it would have to do, and no one was going to let him proceed without it.

Ratchet moved to the edge of the shield, his hand reaching up to lay against it. Sunstorm touched his palm lightly. It was a small gesture, but Ratchet felt warmed by it anyway. He really didn’t want to start to consider the ramifications for that kind of reaction, so he didn’t let himself consciously acknowledge the feeling.

‘I’m not going to know if I’m good enough until I try,’ said Ratchet.

‘Would it be naïve if I said that I believe that you could do anything you put your mind to?’

‘Honestly? Yes.’

The procedure had gone even worse than Ratchet could have anticipated. The energy siphon hurt Sunstorm in some way that Ratchet couldn’t even begin to imagine – enough to leave the seeker writhing and shrieking until his vocalizer turned to static. It occurred to him belatedly that the suction of energy didn’t allow Sunstorm’s regenerative capabilities to function – quite simply, the radiation was beginning to melt Sunstorm’s internals.

But Ratchet couldn’t stop – wouldn’t. No matter what it was doing to Sunstorm, sooner or later Ratchet was going to do this and it was better to get it over with now.

Ratchet’s own shielding was adequate – but not perfect. It only took a few kliks before his own systems began to crash, one-by-one – the siphon couldn’t capture all of the radiation. Ratchet’s hands were melted and smoking by the time he pulled them out of Sunstorm’s chest. The explorative procedure completed, it was now time to remove the siphon, and allow Sunstorm to regenerate – assuming he could.

Sunstorm was conscious throughout. A lesser Cybertronian would have offlined from the sensory overload of such pain, yet Sunstorm – regrettably – seemed to lack the capacity to do so. Sunstorm’s shrieks had dissipated into unintelligible whimpers, but he tried to endure even this agony with grace. His optics had been dimmed substantially, though, and his systems were undoubtedly crashing at a much more rapid pace than Ratchet’s were.

‘Your hands,’ Sunstorm had murmured, his own unstable hands reaching to gingerly touch the blackened, melted mess that used to be Ratchet’s fingers.

There was no good reason for Sunstorm to feel accountable for Ratchet’s pain – he hadn’t asked to be created this way, after all. But still, Ratchet was sure that the expression had been one of guilt.

‘Is Sunstorm in recharge?’ asked Perceptor as Ratchet walked in.

‘Sunstorm doesn’t recharge,’ responded Ratchet bitterly, settling down on the medical berth. ‘He still couldn’t move when I left – but I think he’s regenerating. I would have stayed, but I need to get my hands fixed before the damage gets any worse.’

The scientist was at his side in a nano-klik, holding Ratchet’s wrists so he could get a good look at the damage to his hands. The outer metal had melted and was black, still smoking a bit. The heat coupled with the radiation had managed to destroy most of the sensors, so Ratchet didn’t actually feel anything – but he knew he was going to need a lot of his components replaced.

Perceptor made an apologetic sound. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realize how much pain you would go through just by–’

‘I’m not the patient,’ said Ratchet irritably. ‘Sunstorm is the one you should be apologizing to – when we lowered his energy output, his regenerative capabilities diminished. His radiation was melting his circuits. I can assure you he was in a great deal more pain than I ever was.’

Ratchet instantly felt a little guilty at the expression on Perceptor’s face – but he certainly didn’t show it. Of all ‘bots, it should have been Perceptor who figured this out beforehand.

‘I didn’t realize,’ said Perceptor quietly. ‘I’m sorry. Do you think he will be alright?’

Ratchet shrugged – he wished he knew. ‘We need to take a look at the data before we decide anything,’ he said.

The data and the schematics of Sunstorm’s energy output were neither positive nor particularly negative. His internals were not incredibly different from a usual seeker’s might be – he still had the same processors, the same sensory network, the same spark casing (although Sunstorm lacked a spark to fill it). The differences were negligible – the energy source, however, seemed to be emitting from a fusion reactor. It was theoretically possible to remove the reactor itself – it was alien to the usual seeker design, and had been adapted into Sunstorm’s body.

As was obvious, Sunstorm’s body was not truly meant to house something that powerful.

Removing it would be simple – but without a spark to stabilize him, Sunstorm would die quickly.

Theoretically (that was a word Perceptor used far too much for Ratchet’s liking), Sunstorm could be given a spark. Theoretically, the fusion generators could be removed and destroyed. Theoretically, they could save him without destroying him in the process.

Theoretically, they could create a spark that would sustain Sunstorm.

The Dinobots had sparks, ones created by Wheeljack and Ratchet himself. However, the Dinobots were specifically designed to harbor and support the artificial sparks they contained, whereas Sunstorm would need something much more like a real spark.

Perceptor suggested they find a way to take him to Vector Sigma if the new spark failed – an obvious alternative, but too dangerous to seriously consider. Wheeljack suggested they try and rebuild his inner workings to support the spark they would create – that idea wasn’t much better, considering that Ratchet’s hands had been partially melted, even with the energy siphon in place, after just a few kliks.

Ratchet knew he had to come to terms with the fact that if anything went wrong, if the plan didn’t work, they were going to lose Sunstorm.

Sunstorm was still resting when Ratchet returned, nearly three solar cycles later. Perceptor had been checking on the seeker while Ratchet and Wheeljack worked, as Ratchet was unwilling to waste anymore time dallying. By the time Ratchet had finally finished in his task, it was late night – starless this time, as summer was turning to autumn, and the clouds were beginning to cling to the landscape, each night remaining a little longer than the night before.

Sunstorm didn’t seem to be an extreme amount of pain, but he did seem unwilling to move too much, or too quickly. His back was pressed to the ground, his hands resting lightly over the glass casing of his chest, his optics partially shuttered. There didn’t seem to be any residual damage, though, which made Ratchet overworked spark relax somewhat. Perceptor’s reports on the seeker had been a little too dry – he’s stable, he’s regenerating well, he’s coherent.

Knowing that Sunstorm was content was more reassuring than anything else.

Ratchet sat down at the edge of the shield, watching Sunstorm. Sunstorm gave him a sideways glance, smiled a bit, and then returned to staring idly at the night sky.

‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ remarked Sunstorm, somewhat amusedly. ‘I’m fine – waiting for you to return was just dull.’ The seeker twisted a bit to look at Ratchet, his optics turning curiously to the case in Ratchet’s hands. ‘More tests?’

Ratchet set the case down carefully, unlocking it. ‘I think you and I are a bit tired of running tests. Don’t you agree?’

Ratchet reached inside, pulling out a small, transparent container. In the center rested a whitish gold spark, pulsing warmly against his hands. It was almost the same hue as Sunstorm’s optics – maybe a little bit paler, as the spark seemed to hold a silverish sheen too.

‘This will be your spark,’ said Ratchet. ‘Assuming it’ll be compatible with your systems, anyway. We’re going to put it into your spark chamber when the fusion reactor is removed.’ This was where things became a little more complicated. ‘I’m pretty sure the reactor is going to overload the moment it’s taken out – it won’t have anywhere to pour it’s energy, and it’ll just end up destroying itself. That means if the spark doesn’t work, there’s nothing we can do to save you.’

Sunstorm watched the spark for a few moments, silently considering what Ratchet had just told him.

‘All sparks unify, in the end, as is the will of Primus,’ said Sunstorm after a few moments. ‘But I’ve never had a spark – only the fusion generator. If I offline, and that spark doesn’t work, where will I go?’

Ratchet had no answer to give, and no solace to offer. He and Sunstorm looked upon one another for a few moments.

‘I’m frightened,’ said Sunstorm.

‘I know.’

The next morning, they were making the final preparations for the energy transfer. If things went well – and they probably wouldn’t, but Ratchet was trying not to be negative about this – then the spark would be accepted into Sunstorm’s systems easily. The necessary connections and interfaces were already there, they just needed a proper energy source. The fusion reactor would be immediately given to Skyfire (his armor was far more adequate than anyone else’s) and would be taken into the lower atmosphere to explode, as not to cause damage to any humans or Cybertronians. Skyfire, of course, understood the risks involved.

Ratchet found himself putting on his own armor shielding again – it made him spark tighten in anticipation as he did so. Not because of the danger to himself, but the knowledge that Sunstorm would again have to be subjected to the torture of the energy siphon. If Sunstorm was concerned about that, however, he didn’t much show it.

‘You know there’s no way for me to dull the pain,’ said Ratchet. ‘This is going to be like before.’

‘I know.’

The force shield was lowered, and the energy siphon placed back onto Sunstorm. The seeker fell, shrieking and writhing as before, entirely conscious and aware of the excruciating radiation that began to eat away at his vulnerable internals. Ratchet quickly moved to Sunstorm’s side, kneeling down. In the metallic case Ratchet held, the spark was well protected, sealed tightly to prevent exposure to the tainted energy.

Ratchet’s hand clasped Sunstorm’s shoulder tightly, drawing the seeker’s fractured attention to him.

‘It’s alright, Sunstorm,’ he said. His other hand was already beginning to disconnect the fusion generator, carefully, but quickly. With every severed connection, Sunstorm’s consciousness began to slip away. Sunstorm’s optics began to dim, guttering in a futile attempt to stay online.

That was where Ratchet’s recollection abruptly ended.

Coming online when you didn’t know you’d gone offline in the first place was never a positive experience. After so many years fighting, after so many nearly fatal blows, it always left Ratchet in a state of panic. When his readouts flickered to life, relaying to him information of his current operational status, Ratchet was up in a flash – well before his optical sensors had a chance to come online.

It was foolish. Ratchet’s head collided with something hard – from the startled yelp, it had to have been Perceptor.

‘–ceptor?’ managed Ratchet hazily, diverting his power to his optical sensors.

A flickering, blurry image met him – Perceptor, Wheeljack, and Optimus Prime, as well as a few other Autobots that were of no concern to him now. Perceptor was holding his head, but the others remained where they were, nervously hovering. Ratchet groaned in dismay – he hated making them worry about him like this.

‘Ratchet,’ said Optimus Prime, moving to grip his shoulder lightly. ‘Are you alright?’

Ratchet grimaced. ‘Nothing some good maintenance can’t take care of,’ he said raggedly, trying to get a good look around him.

The medical bay, of course – but that wasn’t exactly his first concern. After a few moments of fruitlessly searching around, he realized the berth next to him was empty.

‘Oh Primus,’ uttered Ratchet, his spark contorting.

‘It’s not what you think, Ratchet,’ said Prime reassuringly. ‘Sunstorm is fine.’

Relief swept through Ratchet’s spark rapidly, but it was short-lived – there was something that felt misplaced, and it wasn’t just the general confusion over why he was in the medibay and why Sunstorm was not here as well. His rhythm of his spark seemed off, somehow. There was something intrusive about the way his spark was pulsing, in a way he couldn’t begin to adequately describe.

‘Where is he?’ asked Ratchet impatiently. ‘What happened?’

‘Sunstorm hasn’t been around for a few days,’ said Bumblebee, surprising Ratchet – he hadn’t realized the minibot was there. ‘We think he’s been flying close by, but we haven’t been able to keep track of him. We were kind of hoping you might know where he is, Ratchet.’

‘How would I know?’ asked Ratchet irritably, sitting up. Perceptor was nice enough to help him up – his spark still felt weak, and as such, not everything was getting as much power as it should have been.

‘You don’t?’ asked Wheeljack curiously. ‘No idea at all? …Really?’

‘Yes, really,’ snapped Ratchet shortly. ‘How would I?’

There was an awkward silence, which Ratchet found especially disheartening. He hoped, truly hoped, that he hadn’t done something insurmountably stupid. From the way everyone was looking at him, but not really meeting his optics, he knew something really, really stupid must have happened.

‘The spark was compatible with Sunstorm,’ said Perceptor quietly. ‘But it was having difficulty forming the proper connection. Quite simply, all of his systems were desperate to consume vast amounts of energy while he tried to regenerate the damage from the fusion reactor. It was inevitable that his spark would extinguish if it wasn’t given support, and quickly.’

Ratchet’s optics widened. ‘So I…’

Everyone shifted uncomfortably and looked away, except for Wheeljack, who just seemed amused.

‘I interfaced with him?’

‘‘Spark bonded’ is probably a more accurate term,’ said Wheeljack helpfully, earning himself a hard glare from Ratchet. ‘Sunstorm was in recharge by the time we got to you – seemed pretty satisfied too, but he got upset when he onlined again. He ran off before we could get a hold of him.’

Ratchet’s face was pressed against his hands at this point – he had no idea whether it was better or not that he didn’t remember anything.

There was no need to ask anyone why Sunstorm had run. Ratchet wasn’t a fool – he knew what a spark bond entailed. For that short time, when they were connected, Sunstorm felt Ratchet entirely, his fear, his anger, his frustration. He felt everything that Ratchet was. It was likely that Ratchet hadn’t felt much of Sunstorm, though, as the spark that he had implanted into Sunstorm’s chest was a newly birthed spark.

Ratchet sincerely hoped the young ‘con hadn’t picked up any of his personality traits by accident during the bond.

Honestly, Ratchet felt guilty, and he was angry that he felt guilty. Sunstorm left because he knew how Ratchet felt about spark mates, and by sheer bad luck, that was what they had managed to become. It was probably not the greatest way for Sunstorm to have been introduced to the whole concept, but it couldn’t be taken back now. It was too late. The best Ratchet could do was go look for him and drag him back to the Autobot base when he found him. If he found him at all, anyway.

Ratchet had always been relieved that he was never stupid enough to find out what it might feel like to break a bond – and now he was on the verge of doing just that. Without Sunstorm there to nurture their connection, the tenuous connection between them was already almost cut. It wouldn’t take that much longer before it would be severed entirely.

If Ratchet wanted to be logical about it, he knew he should just let the bond break and move on. They’d find Sunstorm later, and by then, their sparks would no longer be connected.

For whatever stupid, illogical reason, Ratchet didn’t wait back at base like he should have. He found himself tearing through the desert in the middle of the night, sirens blaring, trying fruitlessly to find some trace of the runaway seeker. It’d serve him right if he ran into some other Decepticon and got himself offlined, especially since he was running at low power.

He had been roaming around for a good four cycles before he caught so much as a glimmer of Sunstorm’s presence. It wasn’t his optics that caught it, but a twinge in his spark, like some invisible tether had wrapped around his bumper and was prompting him to head west. He shifted gears and began to speed through the desert more rapidly, kicking up dust and grime carelessly. With every mile, he was more and more certain that this was the right direction, and that it wasn’t just some glitchy reading from his overworked processors. It was the right way – if it wasn’t, Ratchet would call it a night and do something smart, like let the bond break.

Right now, he didn’t really want to do the logical thing. He knew it was his bond that was clouding his judgment, but he didn’t care. No wonder all spark mates were so difficult. Being bonded made Autobots, quite honestly, become stupid.

Barely slowing his pace, Ratchet transformed to his bipedal mode, running through the darkness. His night vision had never been particularly effective, and he was essentially running blind, but it didn’t matter.

‘Sunstorm,’ he said, slowing when his spark prompted him to. ‘I know you’re here.’

‘It was unnecessary for you to follow me.’

In all honesty, Ratchet was startled, but he was far too tired to give much indication. He turned around, expecting to see the same blinding light that Sunstorm had always emitted, the same crackle of incandescent energy as before. There was only darkness, broken only by a slight sheen of dull gold. Ratchet belatedly realized how stupid it was to think Sunstorm would still emit that light.

‘And you didn’t have to run off,’ said Ratchet hotly. ‘I was already running low enough on power – this little road trip through the desert isn’t doing a whole lot for my spark.’

Sunstorm regarded him silently for a few moments in the darkness. His optics were still gold, but paler. It was about the only external light he was emitting.

‘Thank you for saving me,’ said Sunstorm finally, coolly. ‘I felt that breaking the connection that you created may be an adequate way to repay you. It was clear that was not something you intended – or wanted.’

Ratchet made an exasperated sound, his hands moving to rest on his hips. He looked around distractedly, but there was only darkness. No stars, either – the clouds were still lingering. Ratchet didn’t much like the clouds, and especially not right now, since he had no light to focus his attention on aside from Sunstorm’s optics.

‘I wanted to save you,’ said Ratchet. ‘And it meant enough to me to bond with you – I’m not going to regret it.’ He sighed. ‘Are you still in pain?’

Sunstorm shook his head slightly. ‘No,’ he said, but there was a level of uncertainty in his voice. ‘It doesn’t hurt like before, but I’m not certain that something isn’t wrong.’

‘Connections aren’t made to be broken so soon,’ said Ratchet wearily. ‘I know you think you’re doing us a favor trying to break the bond I created, but you’re not. A bond is meant to be nurtured.’

‘You’ve never wanted a bond,’ said Sunstorm, and he still sounded perfectly composed even while he was probably distraught. ‘And it will not leave lasting damage if the connection is broken, will it?’

‘That’s the thing you’re going to learn about having an actual spark,’ said Ratchet. ‘Sparks carry all the damage that in incurs in an entire lifetime, the burden of lost friends and mates. We’re just wires and circuitry, and maybe we remember everything we ever experience, archiving the useless information and trying to delete the bad memories. But after so long, the memories decay, and maybe the details become harder to access. But our sparks – that’s where the connection is made. And if you hurt a spark, that’s never really going to go away.’

Sunstorm considered this knowledge – and really, Ratchet had to reflect on his own words too. It wasn’t that he hated the idea of spark mates. From the time of his youth, the concept was put into a positive light. It was in their ideology that spark bonds created a sense of unity and connection, but even something like that couldn’t stop the war.

Ratchet had grown somewhat fragile in his latter years, after seeing how many offlined at the hands of the Decepticons.

It was always especially hard to lose a patient that was bonded to another. And Ratchet carried that guilt – even though he knew well enough it was not his burden to bear. His own spark was scarred and weakened. It was the price of being a medic during wartime, and one he’d always been willing to pay – but he was growing weary.

Ratchet stepped closer to Sunstorm. ‘You never asked what I wanted – and bonded or not, you can’t really know what I want or don’t want until I tell you. I’ve never spark bonded before now, but I damn well know spark bonds are not as intuitive as you’re making them out to be. Maybe you can feel a bit of what I feel and think a little bit of what I think – but it’s not always as simple as that.’

‘Then what do you want?’ asked Sunstorm.

If Ratchet really knew what he wanted, he probably wouldn’t have wasted so much energy trying to explain all of this to Sunstorm. The truth was, he didn’t know – couldn’t know – what was best for either of them. But he did feel weary, and his spark was clinging to whatever tenuous connection still existed between Sunstorm and himself. And he was – quite honestly – exhausted. His spark was battered and old. Ratchet always poured his spark into his work – quite literally, as was now apparent. No matter how frustrating, how exhausting it was, he kept going.

But his spark couldn’t keep it up forever. The burden had become far too overwhelming to endure alone. Sunstorm offered him a unique opportunity, one where Ratchet would be able to soothe that pain a little bit. Sunstorm soothed him just by being there, just by listening.

Until recently, Ratchet hadn’t really thought his relationship with Sunstorm to be anything more than an idle curiosity. But now… the prospect of being without him made Ratchet’s spark contort painfully.

‘I don’t really have a clue,’ admitted Ratchet.

‘That is remarkably unhelpful,’ said Sunstorm, his face contorting into a scowl – or a pout. They were remarkably similar expressions when on a seeker’s face.

‘Don’t be smart with me, Sunstorm,’ said Ratchet irritably. ‘I at least know what we are going to do. We’re going to go back to the Ark and we’re going to run diagnostics on you until you recharge from boredom, just to make sure everything’s working as it should. And then you – or rather, we – are going to spend the next few solar cycles recuperating from everything that happened. And then – when I give the okay – we’re going to set up a nice berth for you in your own quarters.’ Ratchet paused. ‘Or mine. Depending on if we… We can figure that out later when we– it’s not like it’s something that need to be decided right this– oh, slag it.’

Ratchet reached out and abruptly grabbed Sunstorm’s hand, pulling the seeker close enough for their chests to bump together. The connection, even as weakened as it was now, immediately came to life. Energy was immediately exchanged between them, although Ratchet couldn’t really put into words how or why his spark did that – it wasn’t something it’d ever tried to do before, that was for sure. He hadn’t known he could do that.

The seeker’s free hand gripped onto Ratchet’s hip, likely because it was the closest thing with a good handhold that Sunstorm could find. Sunstorm clearly didn’t know how to cope with the random exchange of energies – not that Ratchet had any better idea of what he should do now. So, for a lack of any better ideas, Ratchet grabbed Sunstorm and pulled him even closer. One hand moved along Sunstorm’s wing – it seemed like the natural thing to do, and Sunstorm seemed to lean into the touch. Through their connection, Ratchet felt a little of Sunstorm’s appreciation for the gesture, although it was so fleeting that Ratchet vaguely wondered if he just imagined it.

He wasn’t about to start taking cues from a bond he didn’t understand, however. The way Sunstorm squirmed could very well be indicative of discomfort or even pain.

‘That feel okay?’ asked Ratchet, feeling awkward as he ran his hand up and down the edge of the wing.

‘Yes,’ said Sunstorm, his face pressing against Ratchet’s shoulder. ‘Maybe a little further – just a little, near the base.’

Doing as he was told, Ratchet slid his fingers down to the base of Sunstorm’s wing, wrapping his hand around the cables he found hidden there. The annoyance that slid through their connection was palpable, and Ratchet immediately desisted. He knew he didn’t imagine that.

‘Bad?’

Sunstorm shifted restlessly against him, the hand on Ratchet’s hip tightening. ‘Sensitive,’ muttered Sunstorm. ‘I didn’t say grab.’

Ratchet eased his grip quickly, but his own irritation managed so sufficiently mask his sense of guilt. ‘You didn’t exactly say what you wanted, Sunstorm,’ he responded. ‘I’ve never had to repair seekers – I have no idea what’s sensitive and what’s not.’

Despite the negative reaction, Ratchet wasn’t prepared to sacrifice the little weakness he’d found just yet. He was a medic, and his curiosity to explore every inch of his patient’s body had not abated, even if the situation was very different. Gently, Ratchet dragged his fingers across the same wires he’d squeezed down on before – the reaction was quite different this time.

Ratchet moaned, and he immediately felt ridiculous for his own sheer lack of control. He was feeling Sunstorm’s pleasure through their connection. The sensation didn’t even belong to him, and yet he’d still nearly set his sirens off in wanton ecstasy. Ratchet had always figured that seekers had some areas of incredibly sensitivity – they seemed to whine on the battlefield an awful lot if their wings got hit. However, he hadn’t quite expected it to be that good.

Sunstorm remained silent as Ratchet stroked beneath his wing, but there was no doubt in just how much Sunstorm was enjoying it. The heat between their chests was beginning to rapidly increase.

‘Don’t go quiet on me now,’ moaned Ratchet, nuzzling his face against Sunstorm’s lightly. ‘Tell me what you want – I ain’t going to stand here and guess.’

Sunstorm finally emitted a sound of pleasure – a little squeak or a chirp or something equally embarrassing. ‘Just keep stroking right there,’ he managed, trying to and failing to maintain composure. ‘Maybe a little down, that cable to the–’

Whatever cable it was, Ratchet seemed to have found it before Sunstorm could finish. Ratchet was suddenly swept up in a wave of ecstasy that didn’t belong to him, and his spark was already thrumming heavily with the threat of overload. If he’d known spark bonds could be that powerful, he might have considered this a while ago.

‘Ratchet,’ whimpered Sunstorm, his fragile control starting to slip. ‘Don’t stop.’

Stopping was the last thing on Ratchet’s mind at this point. Ratchet might a well been touching his own erogenous areas – every stroke and cautious squeeze sent a wave of pleasure through the connection. He could even feel a phantom tingle of wings he didn’t have. The connection itself even seemed to feel better than even tactile contact – Ratchet’s spark was already fluttering at the brink of overload. He felt, perhaps, amateurish that he would be brought to overload so easily, but he couldn’t really deny that this was all very new to him. Ratchet had overloaded himself plenty of times in his life span – it was a matter of health to do so. But this was different, in some intangible and wonderful way that made self overload pale in comparison.

But it wasn’t what Ratchet wanted right now – or at least, not quite. His spark yearned to renew and strengthen their connection, to feel Sunstorm from the inside out.

‘Sunstorm,’ managed Ratchet, pulling the seeker closer, his spark unbearably hot. ‘I want to bond– really bond– and remember it this time. And I know you want that too.’

‘I thought we agreed not to assume what the other wants through the connection,’ quipped Sunstorm smugly.

‘Don’t be smart,’ snapped Ratchet, in a significantly less acerbic tone than he intended. ‘Just let me– I want to. Open your chest.’

Idly, Sunstorm traced a finger over the cross on Ratchet’s shoulder. ‘If you’re certain,’ he said quietly.

Ratchet wanted to say he was certain, but that would have been a lie. He wasn’t certain of anything at all, and he wasn’t ever going to be. But his spark seemed to be making the demands here, and it felt – quite simply – right to do this.

‘Can we at least pretend I’m certain?’ asked Ratchet, impatiently pressing his chest to Sunstorm’s.

Sunstorm smiled, reaching up to cup Ratchet’s face in his hand. ‘Good enough for me.’

Beta - Eerian Sadow