Author: Evil Ratchet PM
From the slums of Iacon to Autobot officers. Follow them through suffering and hardship until the very end. Ironhide/RatchetRated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Ironhide & Ratchet - Chapters: 11 - Words: 23,145 - Reviews: 34 - Favs: 37 - Follows: 24 - Updated: 01-20-10 - Published: 11-03-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5486192
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Warnings: Swearing, violence, death, slash,
Disclaimer: I don't own – If I did own there would be so much more Ironhide and Ratchet in the comics.
They had been a happy family living in Iacon. They never had been rich, but they weren't poor either. They had a fairly big apartment where he lived with his creators. His creators were engineers and they wished for him to become one as well. But steadily everything he had ever known was falling apart and the worst part was that he couldn't help it at all.
Little youngling that Ratchet was he didn't really understand what was going on when his father got ill as well. It just made the white youngling more anxious day by day. His creators didn't really tell much of their circumstances to him, since they wanted to him remain carefree.
Ratchet knew that they were keeping something from him, because he could hear every evening after he had gone for his recharge when they were speaking about something in low voices. Ratchet loved his creators more than anything in the world and it made him worried to know that there was something wrong with them.
First symptoms that Ratchet had registered in his mother were clumsiness and physical weakness at times. She could suddenly drop things without any warning or fall down for nothing particular reason. Ratchet tried to disregard all of this and just keep on going like nothing was going on, but a bad feeling had started to crawl in to his CPU.
By the time Ratchet had entered school his mother had stopped going to work, because she simply couldn't work anymore. She was being weak and clumsy all the time, but could also be found trembling and even spasming sometimes. Every time his mother had one of these attacks, the white youngling got worried, but also scared.
It was all out of Ratchet's comprehension, which made him very terrified of the situation. On top of everything his father started showing the same symptoms his mother had shown earlier. The couple was still keeping the things secret from the white youngling, which made Ratchet even more confused, because he couldn't understand what was going on.
Around these times his creators started visiting hospital rather frequently. In these visits Ratchet was often with them, because they didn't want to leave the small youngling alone. Ratchet didn't like the hospital – to be honest he hated the place. Every time they entered there his creators became so silent and serious.
The white youngling couldn't remember even single time when his creators had been cheerful after hospital visit. Even the building itself seemed very hostile towards him. The endless corridors were all painted cold white with the occasional symbol of Cybertron's medical guild. It made him want to walk right alongside a wall and just to blend in with his own white armor.
A medic was explaining things to Ratchet's creator, but he could understand only tiny pieces of the conversation they were having. The white youngling tried to understand the medical jargon the mech was spouting, but it just made his processor hurt, so he grew quickly bored.
Ratchet tried getting their attention, but they were too absorbed in their conversation to notice the little white youngling trying to get their attention. Ratchet was getting more and more impatient until he finally decided to leave the bots alone for some exploration. He wandered of the room into a corridor filled with hurrying mechs and femmes.
Ratchet started walking alongside the wall not to attract any attention. As soon as he was alone the white youngling remembered his creators which made him feel really bad. He just wanted to help them, but he had no idea how to do so. Ratchet stopped for a while to look behind him. He saw the door where he had come to the corridor and nobody was following him. His creators were behind that door with a medic. 'Medics were supposed to fix bots, but why his parents kept being broken?' Ratchet wondered to himself.
Before he could start figuring the answer to his own question something hit him, and before he even knew it he was sitting on the cold floor. Datapads were falling all around and one of them hit his chevron.
Ratchet let out some clicks and chirps while holding his head. It hurt where the datapad had hit. His chevron wasn't meant to take any hits. His mouth bent downwards while he was holding back a cry from the pain, but mostly from the surprise.
He took a glance at the mech whom had accidentally crashed to him. The mech was colored white and yellow and was was wearing a mask. The stranger wasn't very outstanding. He could see that the mech was smiling warmly at him.
The mech offered his hand to Ratchet, so he could pull him up to his feet. Ratchet hesitated. He didn't like his hands being touched, since they were very sensitive and bots often tend to be very rough. He knew they didn't mean anything bad, but he also didn't like to be hurt.
"I won't hurt you, little one," the mech said gently.
Ratchet looked down at his own hands.
"Your hands are very sensitive, aren't they?" the mech asked while smiling.
Ratchet looked back at the other mech and nodded.
"Yes," he admitted and decided that he could trust the mech.
He reached out his own hand, which was gently grabbed by the white and yellow mech. He waited for the uncomfortable feeling or even pain to follow, but it never came. It left Ratchet with a dumb struck expression.
The other mech read his expression quickly. It was actually kind of amusing to him that the little youngling was so amazed by such a situation. It warmed him from the inside and left him smiling.
"I know what it is like. All the medics have lots of sensors in their hands, so they can perform delicate work," the mech said and started collecting the datapads he had managed to drop earlier.
"They do?" Ratchet asked in amazement. Until now he had only faced bots with normal amount of sensors in their hands. Even his creators didn't have them, which often lead to situations where they in their current conditions hurt Ratchet accidentally.
The mech nodded and added:"I think you'd be a terrific medic."
"I don't like medics. They can't help my creators, even though they have been like this for a while now – Well mom has been like this as long as I can remember," Ratchet said in defeat. The sadness started crawling back to the white youngling now that he was made to remember the condition his parents were in. He handed the last datapad to the mech.
"You know...Uhm, what's your name anyway?"
"Ratchet," the mech continued:"Medics don't just heal bots, but they also conduct research to find new cures for the illnesses."
The mech saw how visibly the little youngling lit up when he heard the part of research. The innocence that the little bot held in his eyes was the reason why he himself had become a medic originally. He wanted to protect the innocence of this crazy world they were in by rescuing as many lives as he could.
"If I become a medic I could come up with the cure for my creators?" Ratchet asked for confirmation.
"Yes," the mech answered while nodding.
"Are you a researcher," Ratchet asked excitedly.
"Yes. I'm conducting research on psychological field. I'm trying to find a cure for bots not to get sad," the mech simplified the thing while smiling.
"Have you found a cure for it?" Ratchet asked innocently.
"For some things I have – For some not."
Ratchet took a good look at the mech in front of himself for memorizing the looks of the mech. He thanked the mech, smiled and turned around and ran back to his creators head full of ideas.
Ratchet had a clear vision now. He was going to become a medic and find a cure for his creators' illness. Now the white youngling just wanted to tell them that he was going to cure them and they should stop being worried all the time.
He entered the room and saw them still discussing with the medic. They hadn't noticed that Ratchet had been gone for a while from the room, which saddened the white youngling a bit. But nothing could ruin his overall mood now, because he had a plan how everything was going to turn back to normal.
"Mom – Dad!?" He tried getting their attention, but all he got was a grunt that they would be going soon. He was not going to give up like that. Determined to get his creators attention he voiced himself louder.
"MOM – DAD?!" He practically yelled, but it worked.
His father lifted him from the ground and asked what was wrong. Ratchet smiled back at him.
"I'm going to become a medic and cure you," he announced gladly. Ratchet's father was looking at his son with dumbstruck expression. Ratchet was wearing the biggest grin that could possibly fit the small facial plating.