Summery: Adopted from Aliengirlguy: In the heat of battle, Ratchet is badly injured. Just before he dies he meets a mysterious, green-eyed teenager, and things will never be the same for the two ever again. slash.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with transformers, all belong to Hasbro, just borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made. Same goes for Harry Potter, it's the sole property of J.K Rowling also borrowing for personal amusement, no money being made.
Authors Note: This story is adopted from Aliengirlguy. Sorry about the spelling last chapter. I'll try to do better but I don't have a beta. This is going to be the last of Aliengirlguy's original chapters. So next chapter there will be writing differences and some smut.
Pairings so far:
Chapter 4: From the Cauldron into the Fire.
A few weeks flew by since Harry had encountered Starscream.
Since that time, Harry had gone out for flights outside the farm when the twins left for work. He didn't want to worry them, and had still kept the secret of his attempts at rendezvousing with the mech.
Attempts being the operative word.
He had not seen the mech since that time, having not appeared that promised Friday, or two others since, and Harry had to admit to feeling saddened at the thought that the mech had changed his mind. He still tried though, despite the growing feeling that this was probably the truth.
It was as he was flying back home after another failed wait, that a burning sensation erupted in his chest.
He let out a gasp, clutching at the pained area.
His vision suddenly filled with images, fragmented, of another battle, a Decpetcon, Soundwave, yes, that was the designation, standing over him after just having punched him in the chest plates, denting the vulnerable area over his spark chamber, he raised his fist over his head to deliver the crushing blow onto his cranial.
He reacted as he would with any death eater about to curse him and he without his wand.
With instincts born of one who had been on the receiving end of violence since he was old enough to walk, only this time, he was not so helpless. He lifted his legs and caught the handle of the mace, twisting it away from him, and sending it away with a toss.
He didn't take the time to register the surprise on his enemy's faceplates, as he crouched into a defensive position.
The mech seemed to recover himself, and lunged again.
Harry used his enemies' momentum and grabbed an arm, using the force behind the charge to send the communications officer flying over his head and several feet into the distance.
Then there was a sickening lurch, a sense, for a moment, as if he was of two minds inhabiting one body, both feeling fear and confusion.
Wand?...Death Eaters? What the slag were those?
No! No more war…no more pain…please!
Darkness swallowed him away.
As Harry's body fell, he didn't notice being caught by a pair of servos just before he would have crashed into the ground.
Ooo ooo ooo
When Harry regained consciousness, the first thing he became aware of was a constant, though strangely comforting thrumming noise.
It was subtle, yet all around him.
The next thing he became aware of was warmth. It was almost like he was incased in an upholstered dry and firm womb.
Finally, he fluttered open his eyes.
He groaned, his head felt like he had done a few rounds with the Whomping Willow and lost. Finally, when he was sure that his head was not going to fall off, he opened his eyes all the way.
He blinked, and went to check to see if he was wearing his glasses, only to remember that the twins had taken him to a discreet optic-wizard in Knockturn alley before leaving the Wizarding World to have his eyes fixed as a birthday present. That meant that what he was seeing was indeed accurate.
He rubbed his temples. It appeared that lady fate really did have a skewed sense of humor, and Harry was the continual aft…no, butt, yes, butt of the joke.
He was in some sort of enclosure, his back resting against a carapace only slightly longer then his own body. The space its self was only wide enough for Harry to roll over, as he inwardly marveled at the soft vinyl-like interior interspersed with the occasional bit of alien tech, that the part of Harry's mind registered as power supply nodes, secondary and primary energon lines, and a few bits and bobs that were a result of the Seeker's earth based alt form in bipedal mode. The thrumming he had heard was the sound of the Seeker's, for obviously it was so, spark which was located protectively behind a secondary section of plating and hatches to protect it from the constant shifting in atmospheres, speeds, and gravitational pulls. Harry also knew that this particular breed of Cybertronian often carried their sparklings, much like Earths kangaroo's in the carapace, close to energon umbilical feeding lines and for protection until they developed enough plating to safely traverse the same conditions as their creators.
Harry shook the clinical observation from his mind, somewhat bemused that the seeker had shoved him in such a space, considering his attitude in regards to measly organics.
Luckily, his broom was lodged beside him, and he grasped it, feeling the comforting tingle and hum of the brooms magic under his fingers.
It was a trial, but he managed to remove himself and his broom from inside the seeker. Luckily for Harry, his host was apparently a deep recharger, so was not bothered when harry left his person.
Harry took off from the chest plates and hovered over the Seeker, or in this case, Seekers, three of them. His new mental acquirements informed him that the three were a Trine, a mated threesome. Thundercracker (whose missile had lead Harry into this mess), Skywarp, and Starscream, whom he had been squashed into, were curled up together like a pile of slumbering kittens.
Big, death dealing, metal ones anyway.
Harry rubbed his face tiredly as he took in the stark metal quarters.
From the cauldron into the fire, yep, that was his life in a nutshell.
He wanted very much to get himself out of here, find a dark place somewhere, and hole up to gibber like an idiot.
What had happened to him? For a moment he hadn't just retained the memories of Ratchet, he had been Ratchet!
His brain felt like it was filled with the buzzing of thousands of angry bees. Starscream must have finally made the rendezvous in time to witness Harry's fall. Though why he rescued him, Harry suspected was more for ulterior motives than benign ones. Despite the fact that he had only known the mech briefly, he knew enough through both that one meeting, and Ratchets memories to gauge the seekers personality, which would translate as the ultimate Slytherin.
He knew that the only reason he was alive right now was because the Con was curious about him or thought he could be useful some how, or both.
None of his frantic thoughts about what lead him to his latest predicament mattered though, at the moment, his own innate Slytherin half, the bit that housed his survival instincts, and sounded suspiciously like Snape, told him to worry about all that later. What mattered right now was getting off the Decepticon base. Unfortunately, Ratchet's memories didn't contain any useful information in that regards. The Decepticon had been very careful about keeping the information under wraps. However, he did contain the Cybertronian knowledge of working through the base's alien tech.
He grimaced as he eyed the keypad. The fact that the buttons were the size of his head or bigger, just brought home how very out of his element he was with all this, memories or not.
Balancing carefully, Harry kicked at the buttons; using the standard medic access code that ratchet and other medics were wired into their programming. It was a code that could access any quarters of any mech, special override in case of emergencies. The only reason it had yet to be taken advantage of in the war was a programming fail-safe that was downloaded into the medic's processors once obtaining medic status. The Fail Safe kept the information from falling into the hands of those that would take advantage of it, thus it was not mentioned out of medic circles, and also kept the medics from taking advantage of the codes themselves.
Fortunately, Harry was not encumbered by the restrictions, and his Sytherin half quickly overruled his overly honorable Gryffindor tendencies. He thought, a little sadly, at what Hermione might say if she knew…
He sighed, again turning his mind to the important matter of escape, he would dwell later.
The door slid open silently, and slid closed again behind Harry's retreating form.
Harry hovered in the large (to him) hallway.
It was as he suspected, maze-like and not much to distinguish one hallway from another.
Unlike humans, Cybertronians had computer-like memories and guidance systems so signs were not really needed.
After countless and fruitless flying around the base, narrowly avoiding the few Decepticons on the base up and about, Harry glared at what he swore was the same hatch, only different by the slight nick halfway from the top, but then again, the place wasn't exactly pristine.
Rather frustrated, he took out his wand, glad that the twins had given him a wrist sheath holster instead of him having it in his back pocket.
He hadn't wanted to risk using magic, being underage, but he figured in this case, he would have to take the risk, as long as he kept it small.
"Point me exit" Harry tried, figuring he would try the most obvious.
Harry let out a relieved breath when the wand pointed to a fork up ahead, pointing left.
He followed the wands directions for the next five minutes, sticking to the ceiling as far as he could to avoid being spotted.
Finally, the endless passages tapered off into a single larger one, then opened further into something that looked like a throne room.
It was there Harry spotted the giant throne, currently empty, and three hatches.
The hovering wand over his hand pointed to the centre hatch, heating up to indicate he was within reach of what he was looking for.
Harry smiled; he had found what he was looking for…
Suddenly, Harry nearly fell off his broom again, groaning in pain and glad for the fact that it was empty in the throne room.
He gripped the handle of his broom as waves of pain and misery washed over his body.
He cursed the unpredictable nature of his healer abilities, though given the nature of the Decepticons, he should have known that this would happen at some point.
He found his body turning to the right hatch. He gritted his teeth against the whimper that nearly escaped him. The pull on his power was strong, very strong. The suffering behind that right door was unbearable.
He paused, turning his eyes to the center door for a moment, but knew, instinctively, that he would not be leaving just yet.
Using the medic code again, the hatch slid open.
Inside was dark, and the moist dankness did nothing to take out the obvious surety of what he was seeing. He also didn't need Ratchets memories to recognize a dungeon when he saw one, or detention sector as the Cybertronians would call it.
There was a long row of empty cages awaiting prisoners, but it was the last cage at the end of the row that caught his attention.
Through the glowing energon bars was a Decepticon, or at least, a vague resemblance of one.
He was mangled nearly beyond recognition, and it took Ratchets memories a second to identify the mech.
Barricade, Decepticon scout, similar in status as Bumblebee from the Autobots, the second-last sparkling born before the Allspark was jettisoned, making the species sterile in the process. He had been believed to be still missing since just before the episode in Mission city.
'Apparently not missing for long,' Harry thought sadly, 'Megatron and his minions really did a number on him.'
ooo ooo ooo
Barricade wondered if he had finally lost what little sane processing he had when his barely functioning, and remaining, red optic flared to life revealing the presence not of Megatron come to torture him again for his going AWOL. No, it was a tiny fleshbag floating on a stick staring directly at him and glowing like he had bathed in energon.
Glowing green eyes meant his with gentleness and determination then moved forward.
He knew he must be hallucinating, a glitch in his visual scanners or something as he watched the human float serenely right through the energon bars as if the licks of energy meant nothing, the sparks bouncing off some sort of barrier around his body. The boy soon hovered in front of his faceplates.
"Poor guy, you are messed, that's for sure. Tell you what, I have a proposition for you, though I know you'll likely not like it or just promise and then abandon me, but I have no choice." a deep breath, " if I made you well, and whole, would you take me out of the base when you escape? I…wont be much trouble, after I am done, I won't be able to do much of anything for a bit…anyway, deal?"
Barricade gave a broken trill, his vocalizer damaged from his screams of agony long ago. Why not? If he was becoming permanently glitched, then why not play along with the false, and insane, hope before him? He nodded painfully.
The boy smiled, a first in Barricades experience when face to face with one of the meat bags, even if it was a hallucination.
"Just relax," the boy said softly as small glowing hand that intensified into balls of golden light, like two small suns reached towards his chest plate, "this wont hurt a bit."
Barricades last moment was of optic blinding golden white light, intense, nearly unbearable warmth, and an odd sense of belonging, as imaginary arms wrapped around him, holding him close in comfort, before darkness took his awareness.
Ooo ooo ooo
A/n: Review and let me know what you think.