Alright, so TF:Prime is an interesting universe…I'm liking it so far. Humans still annoy me though…but, I guess that happens in every universe…(okay, Raf is pretty okay…I like him the best out of the three kids.)
Any who…this is my first in the Prime sandbox…hope it is okay. The attitudes are a bit to get in to…I'm use to G1, Animated, and Bay-verse…which then again, isn't much change really. Oh well.
Also, may have added stuff…fanfiction means I can do stuff like that. This had G1 scent on it a bit…
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.
Ratchet wasn't one to regret. Actually, he didn't think he had even. Well, until now. He knew he shouldn't regret, it did nothing to help him. Regret did not change the outcome…just made it unbearable.
He had made it to earth, alright. Well, he had and then had been captured. Not actually the best welcome. Bulkhead had still been happy both times…more so the second since it was the real time. The green mech seem to be the only one really excited. But that wasn't true. Ratchet had been excited as well, but knew to keep it in check. Because in this time, getting your hopes up wasn't good. It just brought more pain later when it went back. But now he was here, standing and fine. Words were rehearsed and ready to be said…
But when the right one was here, the medic couldn't say it. Even if the other had sensed something was wrong.
"There, that should do it…should work fine now," the mech said, backing away from the space bridge controls. Ratchet nodded, looking over the work. He had to admit, the engineer's work had never dulled over time. Wheeljack smirked at his good job, then glanced over and nearly snorted.
A small and rare smile was on the CMO's faceplate. It had appeared much just out a rare habit of appreciation of the other's work. Wheeljack did chuckle a bit, causing the red and white mech to look over with a confused and slightly 'offended at being laughed at' look on his faceplate.
"What?" Ratchet muttered, optics narrowing a bit at the Wrecker/Engineer. Something had made the other laughed, and he hoped it wasn't him. Not that he didn't like the attention from the other, but getting laughed at wasn't something he wanted or even liked.
Wheeljack shook his helm and chuckled, "Nothing Ratch'." Then there was a paused between them, awkward and silent. They hadn't seen each other in so long, even if they had been friends for a while back. It was just that…there were words to be said, but neither wanted to say. Well, that and only one of them knew how to hide that fact really well. The other was quite obvious, which caught the other's attention.
It was the sword-wielding bot who then noticed the medic shifting a bit from pede to pede, optic ridge rising at the display. Nervousness…from Ratchet? That wasn't something the medic often displayed openly…well, to others. The engineer had seen it a few times…though he wondered why the other was nervous now.
Then Wheeljack asked, "Wanna get some fuel?" Ratchet nodded, and both walked away to get some fuel. As they walked together, the Wrecker/Engineer noticed that the other seemed tense, but also..it seemed he wished to say something. What…'Jack didn't know. So, he decided to ask.
"Ratchet, is there something wrong?" he asked, glancing to the other. The medic was walking, face forward and not meeting the other's gaze. They headed through the halls to the fuel storage room, the maze seem to provide them with privacy, something both were internally grateful for.
Then Wheeljack watched, as they walked, the other sighed and responded, "No…nothing…" The engineer knew a little better. He had known Ratchet for a long time, and he knew the tone in which the other would use to try and lie. He knew and now wondered what was bothering the other. But the stubborn medic wasn't going to say.
"Really…you sure?" the Wrecked asked, glancing over at the other with slightly pleading optics, he wanted to know. Why wouldn't Ratchet tell him?
There was a sigh, then a nod, and the rest of the walk was in silence. Both sparks were a bit hurt, the engineer's because his friend wouldn't tell and he was leaving soon, and the other's because he wouldn't say something that he knew he should say before the other left.
"Did you tell him?" came a voice, at which Ratchet stopped putting his tools up. There was a bit of playful curiosity in the voice, but also a hint of seriousness. The CMO himself stared at the wall in front of him, back to the speaker. He would have winced, but did not want to reveal to the other what the answer was.
He then let out a sigh and muttered, "No…" Truth, that hurt his spark. The mech felt so weak that he couldn't admit it. He then finished, having managed to actually became to move and get out of his thoughts, and turned to see Arcee standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chestplate. There was a questioning look on her faceplate, then it harden a bit. She had a hint at what the other had felt for the new bot that had arrived, but then again…femme picked up on those feelings better fast. But…the answer the other gave was quite curious.
"Why not? I know he's friends with Bulk' but if you li-"
"It doesn't matter," he interrupted, glancing away not wanting to meet the femme's knowing gaze. If the femme, did the others? He doubted it…well, maybe Optimus, but that was only for the fact that they had gotten over-charged one time and Ratchet was then said to have been a sobbing sparkling. He thanked Primus only Optimus knew about that incident. "I've known him long enough, it wouldn't-"
"Are you sure?" she asked, Ratchet nodded, then the blue femme sighed and muttered, "Alright, I hope you don't regret not saying it…" Then Arcee turned and walked away, Ratchet watched her leave, wondering if that femme was omnipotent or something. The CMO then sighed and glanced at the floor, as if it was interesting and maybe held the answers to his problems. It didn't, and his spark still held that stinging pain of regret.
He never thought he would…but now…he did. Even in this…well, what could pass as a time of war, he felt the sting of regret on his spark. He regretted not saying that he loved his closest friend. Regret that the other was gone without knowing.
And this hadn't even been the first time he felt it, but it hurt more than it had before.
Regret, it stung so bad.
Well, that didn't turn out too bad. Honestly, it was bugging me a bit…and it went from a written 500 words to a typed 1000 words…it just wouldn't want to be good and/or perfect. Blah.
PEACE OUT GIRL SCOUT!