Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words. Sometimes it seems as if that is too many words while at other points, it seems as if there is much, much more behind that simple picture to be worth only a thousand words. How many would know what that one picture meant to the mechs who were involved with it?

Ratchet clearly remembered the pictures that he had posed for with some of his old friends in the time of peace. There were quite a few of them.

Hopefully, not many would realize what the meaning behind those pictures were…

Some of those events could now be used as blackmail. Ratchet was at one point, young, just like every other Autobot running around him. He too, had done things that he wasn't all that proud of. Out of those who were there in those blackmail events, most were now offlined, so it wasn't as if he had much to worry about. Ironhide wouldn't dare try to blackmail him.

Art is said to be immortal, frozen in time while the present continues to move forward, regardless of the cries and begging from lovers to stop the progression of time and the events involved with it.

Ratchet has heard many things throughout his life. Things such as, "Please save him! You got to save him! Please, Ratchet! You don't know how much he means to me! I won't be able to go on living without him!"

But this is a war. Not every single Cybertronian will be saved. No amount of begging will ever stop that simple fact.

Sometimes Ratchet thought that he had become numb to the begging. He had to remain calm and focused if he wanted to be able to save anyone, Autobot, Decepticon or Neutral for that matter. A wounded patient was still a patient and once in his care, it didn't matter what allegiance they had because they were now, his patients. He wasn't about to allow his patients to offline without him at least trying to save them.

Time has passed just as it always had. But due to the war, many mechs have as well. When will it end?

He looked up from his small project as First Aid informed him of yet another patient; one brought back from the battlefield who happened to be still alive this time. The last one had offlined before even reaching the medbay.

It'll end when one side has been obliterated. Only then, will the deaths, massacres, bloodlust, injuries and chaos stop.

When the war is over, maybe he'd be able to relax for once. Ratchet had always been blamed for overworking, but with a war currently going on, a medic can't decide to take a vacation. Stuff like that results in more Cybertronians dying when they may have been savable.

The peace will last for a little while.

Ratchet requested yet another tool from First Aid as his hands became stained with fresh energon. His patient was going into stasis lock. It was only going to be a matter of time. He was the best, but even the best isn't good enough to bring Cybertronians back to life.

Art doesn't live on forever, frozen in time for all of eternity. Things wear down, fade and fall apart without proper maintenance. Art and thus paintings as well, are no different.

His fists tightened on his wrench, working through the spilled energon to get the mech stabilized. The blow had been dealt to the chassis, and a devastating blow at that. Faded paint was becoming plastered with energon as both he and First Aid worked.

Those supposed masterpieces would disappear, just like the Autobots and Decepticons who made it.

The spark pulsed one last time before the inevitable occurred. The mech offlined.