Title: Fix You

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Ella. Don't sue me.

Description: After a horrible accident, Ratchet must stay with the only surviving charge. How will he cope with her injuries, and how will she react to learning of an alien robot living with her? I'm horrible at summaries, just read the first chapter.

Rated: Teen for a little bit of violence.

Main Characters: Ella Brass, Ratchet.

Authors Note: I am not well versed in the world of Transformers. I was born a year after the first gen. started, but I did watch the Beast Wars show and the new movie. This story came about after I read the story "Iron and Grace" here on FFN. The author is a writing genius and she is my muse for this. There will be future references to aspects of her story, that's how much she inspired me. I hope you guys enjoy the first chapter. I might add onto it if anyone feels there isn't enough here. Love you guys, please review! Carebear1.

Chapter 1: The Night.

If anyone would have told Ratchet that his life on Earth was going to be changed in one night, he would have thought that it was illogical and impossible. Life on Earth had been quite uneventful since the final fight between Optimus and Megatron. After the battle, he was sent home with a human from the military, a medic like him. Gregory Brass and his wife Ailita had been wonderful charges. In the six years since the arrival, he had quietly watched the family thrive and prosper with the intriguing development of the couple's three children, all of which had been kept in the dark about the truth behind the families Search and Rescue vehicle.

"My wife isn't exactly keen on the idea that we'll be keeping an alien robot at the house," Gregory Brass laughed as he drove his new Search and Rescue hummer. He felt almost silly for sitting in the driver's seat, since he didn't have to.

"I will not be any bother. As long as there is no trouble, I will be finding entertainment in learning more about the dynamics of human living," came a disembodied voice. Greg jumped about three inches off his seat.

"Man, I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that," he shook his head.

"My apologies. I did not realize that I could cause a sudden acceleration of your heart rate merely by speaking without notice," Ratchet sensed. Greg tapped a finger on the steering wheel.

"Just make sure you don't do that with the kids. Oliver kicks anything that startles him, Gracie screams like a banshee and Ella will probably cry for a week thinking you are going to come out of her closet." Ratchet thought about the idea of being around human younglings, and one he would consider a sparkling. He had seen a picture of them. A boy of twelve, a girl of ten, and the youngest girl of only six. All had smiled up at him from this photo, and he felt such pride for being chosen to be hidden with this familyunit.

"Your younglings will not know of my existence. You have my word."

"And your word is good enough," Greg looked into the rearview mirror. "Honestly, you should have much trouble with them. It's poor Ironhide I feel sorry for. If Annabelle Grace is anything like her father, he is in for a fun time."

"Noted," he answered as Greg stopped in a driveway.

"Well Ratchet, welcome home. Get ready for an adventure."


Now, it was all gone in a mass of burning wood and sparking wires. The roof was completely spread out in what should have been the back yard. The families various belongings were burning black smoke into the night. The house was nothing but slivers and metal where the rooms should have been. There were no sounds of the beings that had been sleeping inside. If it weren't for the fact that the family lived in the country, others would have gathered already. Next to Ratchets feet, the ripped apart body of a nameless Decepticon.

"Ratchet to Optimus, come in," he yelled into his communicator. Hidden in the darkness, he had been able to transform.

"I read you Ratchet, what's going on?" The Autobot leaders voice rang through loud and clear.

"Prime, there has been a breach. The Brass family was attacked by a Decepticon rogue while I was in stasis mode. The situation is critical. I am not picking up any bio readings from the area," Ratchet answered, sounding panicked. He scanned his optics over the wreckage.

"Has the scene been secured?" Optimus sounded as worried as Ratchet was feeling.

"Yes. The rogue has sense been dealt with and terminated." He continued to scan, praying to Primus that a miracle would surface. "I can't be alone."

"Get away!" He suddenly heard a high pitched voice scream. He looked to the ground, trying to find the source of such a hideous screech.

"Optimus, there is something here." Ratchet almost yelled into his communicator. Finally, he looked up to a small area of the farmland that he must have overlooked at first. Here, there was a faint bio reading. Small, but definitely there. Stepping over the broken home, he illuminated the area with his smallest light. He was shocked by what he found.

"Ratchet, I have alerted Bumblebee and Sam of the situation. Sam has called the proper authorities." Optimus came through. Ratchet wasn't paying attention, for he had found the youngest member of the Brass family.

"Eleanor." He softened his vocal patterns.

"Dad, what's with the ugly car?" Oliver scrunched his nose at the yellow vehicle. The color had always been his least favorite. His mother reached over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Zat iees no way to greet your dad Ollie.," Ailita scolded, "Ze vehicle iees for his work."

"Now, Lita, he's allowed to have an opinion about the color. Doesn't mean I'm going to change it, but he's allowed to have it none the less," Greg answered as he walked up and ruffled his sons brunette hair.

"Daddy!" Greg turned to see Gracie jumping up at him for a hug. He scooped his oldest daughter up and held her tight. "I missed you Daddy!"

"Well, I see two of my wonderful children," he said with a laugh, "But where is my little Ella?"

Unseen to the rest of the family, Ella had moved to the opposite side of the rescue vehicle and managed to get in despite the vehicle being very tall. With her knees on the seat, she moved toward the drivers seat. Ratchet could feel the little girls weight on the seats, but couldn't do anything to call to the adults. He had to keep his promise. Suddenly, as Ella turned to sit, she accidently kicked the dashboard. She let out a little gasp.

"Sorry Mr. Car. I didn't mean to do that." She reached out and patted the area she had kicked. Ratchet had to suppress a laugh. She did not know that he was there, and yet she felt the need to apologize. Such an interesting child. Ella sat in the drivers seat, amazed by how big everything felt to her.

"Wow," she whispered. Her attention was then drawn to the middle of the steering wheel. Upon it was the symbol of a very square face. She traced the design when her finger, wondering if she could draw it later. She must have pressed a little too hard, as the cars horn went off. The entire family jumped at the noise and looked to the girl sitting in the cab.

"Ella, zer you are! Come, ma Cheri, time to 'elp Mama start dinner." The girl let out a groan as her mother opened the door and pulled her out. As the six year old started to follow her mother to the house, she looked back at the car.

"See you later Mr. Car," she smiled. It was such a shame to Ratchet that he couldn't show himself to the girl. He was beginning to like her as much as he liked Gregory. Then again, a friendship with the girl was far too risky. No matter what, he would never show his true form to her.

The pre-teen was alive, but barely. To Ratchets horror, she was no longer the same human youngling he had watched grow for six years. The girls legs were missing, one above the knee and one below. Where her legs should have been, the ends appeared to be burned shut. Little blood came from those areas. Half of her face was bloody, hiding her left eye from view. He didn't know if her eye was still within the socket it belonged to. Her usually blond hair was now red. The other half of her face was stained by tears of pain and confusion. As he approached, the girl started to scream once more.

"No, get away!" She repeated. Ratchet didn't stop. He took a final step and knelt down beside the girl.

"Do not fear me. I have come to help." He whispered to the girl. Her bio signals were dropping, and he knew that the fear wasn't making it much better. He noticed that her left hand was covered by a pile of debris.

"Don't kill me." She begged. Ratchet raised his finger to his mouthpiece.

"Silence, youngling. Save your strength." He answered, bringing the other hand close to her. She winced as if she were about to be hit. Bringing his other hand by her uncovered one, he held out his little finger. "I need for you to grasp it. It will let me know that you are still with me."

"I…" Eleanor started, but didn't finish. Without another word, she reached up a shaking hand and took the tip of his massive finger. The metal felt warm against her palm as she left a red mark against his armor. It made the coldness of pain feel so far away. Her eyelids dropped slightly.

"Good. Now, I need you to remain awake for me. I promise I will not harm you." Ratchet said as he began to clear away the pieces that were crushing her left hand. Underneath, there wasn't must he could deal with. Her hand was bleeding, obviously broken. She turned her head for a better look, and promptly began to scream in pain. Ratchet decided it was best to stop the bleeding before more help could arrive. He could sense that ambulance was still five minutes away. Five minutes that could spell disaster for the girl.

"Optimus, I have found a survivor. I am engaging in lifesaving techniques." He spoke into his communicator. He then shut it off, not allowing anything more to distract him. He began to look around the ground for anything to tie the girls arm off. Anything that would stop her from expelling the fluids that allowed her life to continue. Within seconds, he saw that she was wearing pajama shorts with a drawstring. Without hesitation, he reached into his leg compartment and pulled out a tool with a tiny grabber on the end. He clasped the end on the drawstring and swiftly pulled it out with one tug.

"Hey!" Eleanor cried out. Her heart rate rose again.

"Stay still. This might hurt just for a second." Ratchet reassured her. He pulled out another tool that looked like a pair of needle nose pliers. With the precision of a surgeon, he tied the string around the girls arm, cutting off the blood supply that surely would have killed her had she lost anymore.

"You…you're our car." Eleanor realized out loud. Her voice was growing weaker. Ratchet brought his finger to the girls hand once more.

"Yes. I am Ratchet. I am the medical expert for the Autobots." He introduced himself. He thought it might calm her even more. He could hear the sirens coming closer.

"I'm Ella." She breathed out. He could barely hear her as the ambulance and several police cars entered within the safety range. As much as he didn't want too, he had to leave Ella behind.

"I will return. This I swear to you." She told her as he stood up and began to back away. She weakly held her good hand out to him.

"Stay. Find Dad, Mom." She whispered. Ratchet couldn't follow this. He backed up further into the darkness and transformed just as the emergency vehicles pulled up.

From a distance, he watched as the human crew picked the girl up on a stretcher. There were so many people surrounding the site of the explosion, he regretted not hiding the body of the dead Decepticon. Surely the humans of the government would hide it for him before further questioning. Yet, for now, his attention was focused on Ella. He could hear the sound of helicopter blades slicing through the night air as it started to land on the property.

"She'll be lucky to live through the night. The rest of them have been declared dead on the scene." He listened in on the ones caring for his youngest charge. His spark dropped when he heard that the others had been found.

"Get her loaded up." A chief said to the crew Ratchet had just heard. He watched as the stretcher was placed into the waiting helicopter. Just as the doors began to close, he heard it.

"Ratchet, thank you." The little voice that allowed him to find her in the darkness of night. In a twilight that had been filled with such sadness and devastation, he felt a sense of hope for twelve-year old Ella. An undying hope.