So… I totally fell in love with All 4 One, back when I first saw the official trailer on Youtube. While browsing through the backed up files from my laptop, today, I found the link again, and was reminded just how adorable the art style is. Don't get me wrong—the Future trilogy will always be my favorite (largely because ToD was the first of the games I really paid attention to, story-wise)—but there's something about the character models this time around. They're almost like plush toys… I do mourn the loss of Qwark's "butt chin", though.
Anyway, long story short, I got to thinking (which is always dangerous, as evidenced by Six Minutes) and monopolized the computer for a chunk of the day to write this. I don't think there are any spoilers for it (though there are a few for ACiT), because I'm only using material from the trailer, wiki and my own imagination (and not the comics)… so there probably isn't any real danger, here. In fact, this probably won't even work with canon.
Honestly, this can be read as friendship or slash—I was aiming for the former, but I think I ended up slashing… again.
If nothing else, Ratchet was glad that he wasn't alone.
He'd definitely had enough of solitude for one lifetime—both back on Veldin, before getting into what Qwark called the 'hero business', and while he'd been scouring Polaris less than a year ago. Less than one year— and this was supposed to be a break from adventuring. They really had to stop using terms like 'break' and 'vacation', if they were the precursors to situations like this—Solanian auroras only knew what would have happened if they'd actually retired.
But, getting back to the point, as unpleasant as the situation already was, it only would have been worse if he'd had to deal with Qwark and Nefarious on his own. Unconsciously, the lombax tightened his hold on Clank, who was still in sleep mode. They'd elected to have someone keep watch, since the natives on Magnus weren't exactly…friendly. And, in a hushed conversation some time earlier, Ratchet and Clank had agreed that it was unwise to leave the task up to Nefarious or Qwark—though it was still contested which of the two would actually be worse. That was why the lombax was sitting, awake, on the edge of their current campsite, ears perked up despite the apparent silence.
His tail twitched, and he sighed, tilting his head back to survey the sky once more. Though the fact had already been established, none of the constellations looked familiar, and Clank had assured him that they didn't match up with any of the relevant star charts. They didn't know where they were, what the 'Creature Collector' was for, or what was going to happen to them… but, and this was tempting fate, it could have been worse. He, Ratchet, had already been through worse.
In a way, he pitied Qwark… and even Nefarious (or, alternatively, he pitied Nefarious, and even Qwark). They were stuck in the same situation that he was, but with one key difference. Qwark had become part of a team alongside his arch nemesis and 'sidekicks' (or whatever he fancied calling the pint-sized demolition duo, these days. For all Ratchet knew, it may have had to do with that whole 'Galactic President' thing) while Nefarious was rubbing elbows with people he considered enemies.
Having grown bored of surveying the unfamiliar sky, Ratchet turned his attention back to the campsite, rubbing idly at his left eye. Somehow, over the course of the night, Qwark had attached himself to Nefarious's side. The 'evil' robot, still in hibernation mode, had failed to notice this, and Ratchet didn't feel inclined to rectify the situation. In fact, he could hardly wait until morning, just to see how it panned out.
Shifting his gaze from the faintly disturbing scene opposite him, the lombax found himself glaring into the weak fire crackling nearby. It wasn't terribly effective—he was freezing, honestly, but Qwark didn't seem to be affected by the temperature, so he wasn't about to complain about it—and it would be easy to build it up, but there was a reason that it was so small: anything larger would attract every sentient being within a fifty cubit radius, which would render all efforts to remain hidden moot.
Ratchet wasn't entirely sure how long he spent like that, but, after awhile he felt something tapping at his arm, as if to wake him. He jolted upright (and just when had he rested his head on top of Clank's?) and automatically made a move to defend himself—both physically and verbally.
"I wasn't sleeping!"
Clank simply tilted his head up to look at him, upside-down, expression suggesting that, if it were possible, he'd be rolling his eyes. The hand still resting on Ratchet's forearm was all the proof anyone would need to realize that the contact hadn't been hostile in the slightest.
"No, not quite." The little robot agreed.
Reaching his free hand up to scratch behind his ear, embarrassed, Ratchet chuckled. "Uh…yeah. It's a close call, huh?"
"Indeed," The mech gently pushed the lombax's other arm off of himself, and rose to his feet, before grabbing that same arm and turning, leading him closer to the fire.
The feloid didn't resist, but, at the same time, couldn't help his curiosity, "Pal…what are you doing?"
"You are shivering." Clank said plainly, stopping only a foot or so (in an archaic term that had never really died out) from the flame, and gesturing for the other to sit down.
Not seeing any reason to do otherwise, Ratchet complied, "It's a little cold out, yeah, but it's no big deal." He paused, gesturing vaguely across the site, "I mean, look at Qwark. He's fine." There was another beat of silence, as he considered what he'd just said, "On second thought, don't look at Qwark. I'm never going to get that image out of my head."
Settling himself back down, the robot sighed, "We have had this conversation before, Ratchet. You are not Captain Qwark; where he has his weaknesses, you area allowed your own." The lombax looked in the opposite direction, trying to ignore the reproachful green stare being directed at him, "Being smaller than the Captain is nothing that you can help, and not being able to handle temperature changes like others may is nothing to be ashamed of."
Ratchet shrugged, failing to reply.
"Ignoring it will do nothing to help; you will make yourself ill if you are not careful. Please get some sleep, Ratchet; I will take over the watch. You do not have to take care of everything on your own."
When the lombax glanced back, he found that Clank's gaze was still fixed on him, and the little bot was clearly torn between looking concerned or fondly exasperated.
"Yeah, I know." He said finally, smiling tiredly and settling on his side, head pillowed on one arm "'t's why you're around, isn't it, pal?"
Leaning back against the lombax's chest, Clank nodded.
"Missed you when you were gone."
Nodding again—hardly considering the fact that he'd only been conscious for a day or so, before being reunited with his friend—the mech quietly replied, "And I you."
Listening carefully to the unique heartbeat slowing slightly, as Ratchet drifted off, Clank hugged the other's free arm closer to himself.
Neither moved until long after the sun had risen.