A/N: These are a series of prompts I received ages ago on deviantArt, and am just now starting to finish. Each prompt and its requester will be listed at the beginning of the story. ^_^
For mmouse15: Ratchet/Sunstreaker/grief-My Spark was broken/my life a wasteland/you've come back/like the rain/but bloom I do not/comfort me lover/
It was funny, but in some ways, this was more hurtful than losing him had been.
Sunstreaker lay awake in the dark, optics dim so as to not disturb his recharging brother and bondmate. His gaze occasionally flicked over to Sideswipe, curled on his side with his head pillowed on his hands and mouth slightly open as he rested, but most of his attention was on Ratchet. The white mech lay between the two brothers, to all appearances peaceful as he unconsciously snuggled in closer to the warmth of Sunstreaker's body.
The yellow mech could almost fool himself, in moments like these, that nothing had changed, that his entire world had not been rocked on its foundations—that Ratchet remembered him.
That they'd never lost him in the first place.
The illusion was impossible to maintain, of course, as soon as the medic onlined his optics—there was a youthfulness there that Sunstreaker had never seen before… and that, quite frankly, was unnerving.
For just a nanoklik, he allowed himself to succumb to the spark-crushing grief and desolation, faltering briefly in his belief that everything would go back to the way it had been, that Ratchet would regain his memories of them—of him. For just that short time, in the dark of night when no one else was awake, he could let himself crumble under the weight of his despair in the realization that nothing would ever be the same again.
He drew in a deep, shaking breath, offlining his optics, reining his emotions back in—and when he onlined them again, he was staring directly into the blue glow of his bondmate's gaze.
"Ratchet," he murmured softly, voice just a little rough still. "You should go back into recharge."
The medic shook his head. "You're upset," he said, his own voice quiet, mindful of the recharging red mech on his other side.
Sunstreaker grunted dismissively. "I'm fine," he muttered, turning his face away and dimming his optics further, trying to give the impression of sleepiness, though he didn't know why he bothered, since Ratchet could feel him perfectly well through the bond. The white mech had to know that he wasn't about to drop offline anytime soon.
"You haven't been recharging much at all lately, have you?" Ratchet asked, as though Sunstreaker hadn't spoken.
The yellow mech grunted again, this time in irritation. "I recharge just fine. Go back to sleep." Ratchet blinked at him, perhaps a bit thrown by the human term, unfamiliar to him now that he'd lost so much of his past.
"It's not healthy to spend so much time awake," the medic continued, after a beat's pause.
Sunstreaker frowned. "I'm fine," he repeated himself, rebuilding his walls around himself, shoring up his emotional defenses once again.
Ratchet laid a gentle hand on his arm, and softly whispered, "No you're not." His optics reflected an instinctive worry for the bondmate that he didn't, couldn't, know, and Sunstreaker could feel himself wavering under that concerned blue gaze.
"No," he agreed quietly, looking away again. "I'm not." He felt careful fingers on his chin, urging him to turn his face back; he contemplated not doing it, but in the end he allowed Ratchet to pull him back around to face him.
"Is there anything I can do?" the medic asked, still in that soft voice.
Sunstreaker hesitated—then, as gingerly as though Ratchet might break, he gathered the white mech up in his arms, holding him tightly. "Just stay with me," he whispered, bowing his head over the pale helm, careful of the points of the grey chevron. He could feel Ratchet nod just as a little pulse of reassurance came through their bond.
"I'm here," he said softly, curling in closer. "I'm not going anywhere." Finally, Sunstreaker smiled.