AN: Takes place after "Stronger Faster". AU after that.
"Give me your hand!" Jack, bruised and exhausted himself, reached forcefully over the cliff edge for his struggling friend's hand. With a grunt, the young Rafael thrust his hand into Jack's palm. The two flopped back onto solid ground, panting and gasping, just as a lemon yellow muscle car skidded to a halt above their heads. Bumblebee rearranged his circuitry faster than could be comprehended and hovered protectively over his charge. He beeped and whirred in his normal Cybertronian dialect.
"We're fine, Bee," Jack managed, "Go help the others." The beeping began again in what came across as a protest.
"Fight's over," Raf breathed, translating for his mute companion, "Cons fled." Jack mumbled incoherently, grasping his cramping sides as he pulled himself up. Raf sat up cradling an obviously broken leg. With a wine, Bumblebee gently scooped the boy up and transformed carefully around him. Jack hurried in as well when the Camaro opened a door for him.
"Where's Arcee?" The dashboard lit up in synchronicity with Bee's electronic clicks.
"She's helping to carry back the energon they secured." Jack hummed, pleased. The Autobots had become more and more desperate for a fuel source. Anything they could get was helpful and crucial. Bee chirped quietly as he commed Ratchet to inform him of his young friend's injury. The medic's voice came over the comm. filled with static.
"I'll have med-bay ready, I assume I don't need to contact June?" The white mech sounded exhausted. Jack knew he'd been having trouble recharging as of late, but his voice was more sleep laden than the human had expected.
"Just a broken leg, Ratchet." Raf responded, "I trust you to fix it." The medic grunted before the link went dead. Jack huffed back, ignoring Bee playing with the radio, something the boy likened to a harsh form of laughter. Rafael tapped on the dash gently to tell the Camaro to pay attention to the road as he began to drift to the opposite lane. Bee whirred as if telling his companion off for being a backseat driver. Raf only giggled, still holding his throbbing leg.
The medic gently help up the child's leg as he wound casting material around the ankle and lower leg, scoffing when Raf winced yet again.
"Stop fidgeting, Rafael, or your cast will be crooked." Ratchet placed a finger on the child's shoulder as if to hold him down and quiet his movements.
"Sorry," Raf muttered, "It just hurts."
"The pain killers should take effect soon but until then there is nothing to be done." The medic inspected his work, patting down the final wrapping before offering his palm for the human to climb into. He did as instructed and was brought to the couch to join his friends in watching cartoons with Bumblebee. The bot clicked happily at his arrival. "I've asked for Ms. Darby to bring over a pair of crutches," Ratchet informed, "But remain seated until she arrives. You'll be worse than you are now if I have to repair you again because you've tripped." Raf gave a thumbs up, glaring at Miko for giggling.
With a last look at his friends, Jack leapt up to follow the medic out. He carefully observed him from a distance, noting how his normally brisk pace had slowed considerably. He also seemed to be favoring his back, rubbing his backstruts from time to time and cautiously leaning back as if to relieve tension. After a few moments Jack became increasingly worried. Could cybertronians get colds? Or arthritis? He knew Ratchet was old. Perhaps his systems were rusting.
"Jack?" The human jumped at Ratchet's voice, the bot never turning to face him. "You've been standing there for at least five clicks, is there something you need?"
"N-no," Jack stuttered out, "Nothing."
"Then would you kindly vacate my medbay." The Autobot seemed on the edge of snapping at the boy. Not something uncharacteristic of him but also not something Jack enjoyed. He preferred for his cranium to remain as it was, without a wrench logged in his skull. Though, that didn't deter him.
"You okay, Ratch?" The bot remained still, silently calculating an answer.
"I will be." Before Jack could respond the medbay doors opened behind him. The silent cue did not go unnoticed so the boy took his leave. Ratchet sighed as the doors resealed. He fiddled absently with the device in his hand, no longer processing what his hands were doing. The sensitive nodes in his fingers were throbbing and his pedes ached worse than normal. His processor was the worst, however. Lacking sleep and over-clocked, his mind had become fearfully sluggish. As a medic, not to mention the team's only medic, he needed to be at peak efficiency at all times.
With a grunt, the CMO pulled himself onto an empty berth, letting his pedes hang over the edge and rubbing between his optics in a very human gesture. With an ear splitting screech, the medbay doors slid open once again. Ratchet knew without looking that Optimus stood at his side, a hand on his shoulder armor.
"I really need to get around to fixing that door," Ratchet mumbled into his hands.
"How are you fairing, old friend?" Ratchet groaned in response. "Go and recharge, there is nothing that needs your attention at the moment." The white mech shook his head.
"I've been attempting to recharge for a week now, it only makes me more agitated." Despite Prime's hand on his shoulder, Ratchet attempted to pull himself from the berth. Optimus clicked.
"At least relax," Optimus' voice was admittedly soothing. "Do you believe June could help?" Ratchet shook his head, optics still closed.
"She's a nurse, not a medical researcher, much less a mechanic."
"Is there a reason I should be a mechanic?" Both bots turned to find the subject of their conversation at the door. She was dwarfed by the equipment in the room, much less the Autobots, but seemed undeterred by their size. "I dropped the crutches off with Raf and thought I'd come say hello." She climbed as gracefully as she could to sit on Ratchet's knee. The two had grown close, poring over human medical documents together. "Jack's worried about you. He says you've not been recharging." Ratchet huffed, annoyed with the human's inability to keep to his own business.
"I'm perfectly fine. Just a lot on my mind." Optimus' glare was enough to bore a hole into the back of his head and yet was strangely gentle.
"Ratchet," he chastised, "you and I both now that is a lie" The medic glared back. "Any help we can get at this point would be extremely beneficial."
"If I can help in any way," June patted the mech's knee, "Please, let me. You've all helped us so much in the past; we're willing to do anything to return the favor."
Optimus help up a silencing hand. "What we do is no favor to be returned, Mrs. Darby. But we would appreciate the help." June nodded, waiting for the mechs to continue. Ratchet sighed again, hanging his head in defeat.
"My creators died when I was very young," June gave the Autobot an odd look, "My parents," Ratchet clarified, "They died of a virus known as CCG or Chronic Circuit Glitch."
"I-I', sorry," June sputtered out, not knowing what to say. The medic simply held up a hand, refusing sympathy.
"This is the reason I decided to become a medic, In order to cure them." He paused, sucking in vast amounts of air through his ventilation systems, attempting to cool his over-taxed circuitry, "By the time I finished medical school, they were long deactivated."
"Let me guess," The nurse replied, "It's genetic." Ratchet simply nodded.
"Ratchet has shown symptoms of CCG for several stellar cycles," Optimus shifted from one leg to the other, hand still placed gently on his companion's shoulder, "However, only with the recent stress of the Decepticon's reemergence and our dwindling energon supplies have its true effects begun to make themselves known.
"Those symptoms are…?" The nurse was extremely cautious with her tone. She'd worked with patients inflicted with chronic illness before. She didn't want to upset the three story Cybertronian any further with her inquiries. Ratchet, however, despite his evident weariness, seemed to be maintaining his emotions in a calm, professional manner.
"Shaking, circuitry misfires, seizures, and sensory discomfort," He absently rubbed his all too sensitive servos as he spoke, "in the later stages, CCG patients lose all ability to control motor function, suffer from partial sensory deprivation and experience short term memory loss." He bowed his head, "My sire couldn't remember even my carrier's name by the time he died, though he knew he was bonded to her." June could do nothing but stand and gape. The elder medic had always been a strong symbol of confidence, despite his grouchy disposition. To see him breaking at the thought was unnerving.
"I'll do everything I can to help," She blurted, speaking almost too quickly. Optimus nodded his silent gratitude as Ratchet rose, shuffling to his desk. June had to scramble to get off his knee before the plating that extruded from his joint crushed her.
"I'm not sure there is much you can do." It was obvious that the white mech was avoiding eye contact by fiddling with anything his hands could find. "I've been researching CCG in my spare time since long before the war began. If nothing traumatic happens, I estimate two stellar cycles at most before the damage becomes irreversible." The medbay was silent for a long moment, only the squeaking of ungreased joints echoed through the room as Ratchet shifted uncomfortably, attempting to relieve pressure on his aching pedes. June could do nothing but stare, her eyes glazed over and her head slightly bowed. She'd known colleges to grow ill before, it was not uncommon in the medical field. It happening to any of the Autobots was eye opening, much less the medic. She'd spent many nights teaching him organic medicine but had never consciously noticed anything amiss. Then again, any quaking she did see she quickly passed off as age. She couldn't help but regret not seeing a problem sooner.
"Have you told the kids?" Ratchet shook his head, remaining hunched over his work bench.
"There has been no need to do so," Optimus lowered slowly to June's level, "And we do not plan on telling them until the glitch progresses to a noticeable level."
"When would that be?"
"A few months at most," he mumbled. Ratchet seemed to have completely tuned out their conversation. He was busying himself with collecting what appeared to be a pile of human sized data pads. Optimus motioned silently for June to climb into his hand. She did so with little protest. Months ago the thought of being carried by an alien robot would have disturbed her but she'd learned to trust them and even began to enjoy their company.
As silently as was possible for the massive Autobot leader, he carried the human out of the medbay, wincing as the doors squeaked open. June was always amazed by how smoothly the Autobots carried themselves, osculating little as they walked. Still she clung to Optimus' thumb as not to fall off with every step. Eventually the two came upon a door that June recognized as Prime's normally off-limits office. Entering, he placed her among the datapads on his desk. The office was surprisingly unorganized. Stacks of paper and data pads leaned dangerously in piles about not only the desk's surface but the floor as well. A half finished cube of energon sat off to the side, glowing a faint blue. Even the large metal chair that Optimus eased himself into was covered in chipped paint. June sat leaning against an elbow Prime had carefully set on the desk to place his faceplate against a servo.
June finally spoke up against the unnerving silence. "He's scared, isn't he?" The Autobot sighed.
"I briefly met his parents in their final stages. They were very kind bots, but very far gone. His sire asked my name at least five times within thirty klicks." June ran through quick mental calculations to convert the Cybertronian time measurements to a more familiar form. "Ratchet had to hand feed his carrier and constantly watch for seizures. It was a difficult experience for me to witness, thus I cannot imagine the stress he was subject to then and the fear he feels now. I can honestly say that I am more concerned for his mental wellbeing rather than his physical health." The two paused, ingesting the information.
"Do the other bots or Fowler know?" Optimus shook his head.
"No, however they are growing suspicious." Prime rubbed at his optics, obviously stressed.
"Fowler had connections to tens of brilliant scientists. He would be a valuable resource." Optimus nodded.
"We have already considered that. Ratchet has refused human help. I am honestly amazed he has allowed you to know anything." The silence that consumed the room was all telling, all encompassing. Hydraulics hissed with tension in time with the human's slow, calming breaths. Neither were far from the gravity of the situation. The ailment had been studied for millennia with little result, now only two years remained until the lead researcher in the field succumbed to the very disease that had consumed his focus in his younger years. Both understood how low their chances of finding a cure were.
Sensing his companion's distress, Optimus placed a hand at her back, offering it up. She gratefully climbed in. "Do not despair, Ms. Darby, both you and Ratchet are brilliant medics. I have high hopes that you will find a cure." June only sighed, leaning her head against the Cybertronian's thumb as he carried her back to the main room were her son sat, oblivious of the good bot dying in the next room over.
AN:
I am extremely nervous about this story and have debated for quite a while as to whether or not to post it here. Please, please review and let me know what you think. Both negative and positive comments are welcome, though I would love some true critique.
I have nearly half the story written (over 25,000 words) and am still working on it so I will attempt to update once a week.