A/N – All commentary can be found at jalaperilo (dot) livejournal (dot) com. R&R please!
uReach Out - Chapter 1/u
From the moment Ratchet saw them, he had a small feeling they were going to be the bane of his existence. The yellow one had all but dragged the red one in to his little clinic with a broken knee joint in the middle of the offcycle. The pair had been shouting and arguing just inside the entrance, about getting the knee fixed. The red one not strong enough to stop the other pulling at him while his leg was unusable.
Ratchet, who had been preparing his examination room ready for the day cycle to begin, had heard the shouting and had gone to investigate. From behind the metallic and glass door that separated the waiting area from the rest of the building, he watched the spectacle for a few moments, entranced and amused by the little drama. Red was hanging onto the door frame while Yellow was tugging at his back plating, yelling at him to let go and get in the clinic.
Why they were here so late, and without supervision, Ratchet couldn't guess. Everyone in the area knew that the clinic had an open door policy for all who needed help. Living above in a small two berthroom abode, he had had Wheeljack, the other mech living above the clinic, install a chime for anyone to ring if there was no one actually present. It was rare for either one of them not to be around though, especially during the night phase. They had a few other medics work for them during the day cycles, but they were volunteers.
Ratchet pressed the door release, which was always closed late at night, for everyone's safety. The soft whoosh of air alerted the bickering duo to his presence. Red let go of the door frame in surprise, and the other, still pulling at him, toppled them both over onto the floor. Ratchet quirked an optic ridge at the small pile of limbs on the floor. The red one groaned as he held his knee.
"Well done," Yellow, on the bottom of the pile, gasped. He lifted himself up, throwing Red off of him. He managed to catch himself before he jostled his knee again, and turned his head to his friend.
"It's your fault," as the heated reply.
"What do you two want?" Ratchet asked, stopping the argument that was inevitable going to break out. He had already guessed, through not so brilliant deduction, but he didn't want to assume. Yellow stood up gracefully, grabbing Red's arm and yanking him up.
"He fell off of one of the domestic units and hurt his knee. Can you fix it?" was the direct answer, defiant eyes meeting his stare. Red yanked his arm out of the others grasp but swayed on one leg and latched onto Yellow's shoulder.
"What were you doing on the top of the units?" Ratchet asked, frustration projected in his voice. He had learned that when he gave them an impatient look and a curt response, most people got straight to the point. These two seemed different. Yellow shrugged. These two were going to be difficult, he could just tell.
"Come on then," he sighed, walking over and picking up Red and taking him to the first med room, where general cases were treated. Yellow scurried after them, cycling o2 quickly as he ran to keep up with Ratchets brisk pace. He deposited his little charge on the med berth before going to get supplies from the cabinet. When he turned back around, the yellow one had just climbed up to sit next the other.
Yep, definitely difficult.
He walked back over and took a seat on a stool in front of the two. He gently manoeuvred Red as he scanned the injury, his vision taking on a slight green hue as the sensors swept over and through the tiny armour, scanning his energon system, then his circuits before getting to the intro-skeletal system, results of the medical scan flashed up on his HUD. Nothing serious, just a few supporting struts needed replacing and a few lines to be reconnected. He made a cursory scan over his entire system, noticing that there was a slight hitch in his intake valve. That could be from the pain in the knee. He extended a small tool from his forefinger and neutralised the pain receptors with it. A small sigh of relief escaped Red and Ratchet smiled to himself.
He quickly began to work, removing two of the struts and had already welding them into place before he realised that Yellow was still taking in o2 heavily. He lifted his head from his work to scan the youngling. He had a pinched expression and the noise coming from him sounded like the pistons themselves were either faulty or simply out of alignment. The scan confirmed his suspicions. His scrutiny earned him a fierce glare.
"What?" came the defensive question. Ratchet levelled his own glare at the youngling.
"Your oxygen system is out of alignment. How long has that been the case?" Ratchet asked, running a full scan over his entire chassis. The results came out almost identical to Red, even down to energy signatures. He frowned. Both of them had problems with their intakes, but Yellow's was worst. On closer inspection, the two looked alike, identical in their protoforms and their, more than likely, final sparkling armour. Even siblings had slight differences in their signatures. These two were turning into a real enigma.
"Always. Are you going to fix Sides or what?" Yellow shot back. Ratchet met the tiny glare, not quite daunting because of his young age. It was actually quite cute on such a little face.
"Yes. Then I'm gonna fix you as well." Surely their creators would have had his intakes repaired. That was if they were even around. With the unrest and murmurs of the war reaching further out, it wouldn't be surprising that they may already been dead. That would explain why the two little ones were in the outskirts and out in the middle of the recharge cycle. Especially in this city. Poor things.
"You should fix his mouth closed," Red said, cutting through Ratchet's ponderings and grinning at the other. The glare was now trained on the other youngling. Ratchet rubbed his helm. He decided to go back to the knee. The sooner he got them both fixed up, the sooner he could find out about their creators. They fell into near silence, which was only interrupted by Yellow's heavy o2 intake.
"So," Ratchet began, "You're name is Sides?"
"It's Sideswipe. He's Sunstreaker, but you can call him Sunny," the little red one said.
"No he can't!" Sunstreaker yelled. Ratchet didn't even raise an optic ridge at the outburst. He had already pegged Sunstreaker as a small bundle of angry energy, content to defy everything around him. Sideswipe was more relaxed, maybe even fun loving, if the silly grin he was wearing had anything to do with it. He also fidgeted a lot.
"What's your name?" Sideswipe asked, leaning forward to watch the progress on his knee. Ratchets optics flickered up for an astrosecond, taking in the inquisitive smile, before settling back onto the knee.
"Ratchet."
"Can I call you Ratch?" Ratchet's lip quirked slightly.
"No."
Ratchet retracted his micro laser and reactivated the pain sensors. He clicked the knee plating back together and looked up as Sideswipe.
"Fixed?" was the question that cut past the statement on his lips as Sideswipe stood up on the berth and began jumping up and down as if to test it for himself. No wonder he had hurt himself with the way he was carrying on. Sunstreaker just watched with a pout as he was jostled in his sitting position. Ratchet growled.
"For now. No more climbing on buildings though, and stop jumping on the berth!" Sideswipe giggled and kept jumping. Ratchet grabbed him and sat him back down. He could feel his temper rising, but he had to temper it for now, at least until they were fixed.
"Let's go," Sunstreaker said, tugging on Sideswipe's arm, getting ready to get off the berth, but Ratchet stilled him.
"Not yet. I still need to take a look at you intakes," he said as he pushed the small body down so that he was lying down. He grumbled a bit but didn't fight. The berth was big enough that both younglings could lie side by side easily. Sideswipe crawled next to the other and looked up expectantly at Ratchet.
"I just need you to open your chest up to see what the problem is," he said, making sure that they both knew what he was doing. The little defiant optics stared at him before he heard the soft click of the latch release. He could have opened it himself, but he assumed that Sunstreaker would feel more at ease if he had some kind of control. Younglings were easy to read.
Wordlessly, Ratchet opened the chest cavity and began to scan the insides. Sideswipe took this opportunity to peer over. Sunstreaker just growled and swatted at him. Ratchet clicked his vocaliser and they both settled down. He decided to do a complete scan.
"So, are you two brother's?" Ratchet asked, optics still scanning over the little chest. He had found the faulty valve. It didn't even need replacing.
"We're twins," Sunstreaker answered solemnly.
"Split spark twins!" Sideswipe crowed excitedly. Ratchet's head snapped up at that. That was a rarity. No one knew much about them. While siblings did share a bond through their sparks, split spark's were directly keyed into each other's life-forces. Not only could they communicate emotions through their bond like siblings, they could actually talk to each other, and over vast differences, just like a spark bonded pair.
Very little was written on split sparks. Such a rarity had seldom come to the attention of the medical community enough to be fully documented. Ratchet felt a bit giddy, actually meeting a pair. He ran another complete scan over them both, taking in all the details he could about their tiny frames and life energy, even their spark's. He intended to write up his findings, if only for his own records.
The war between Vos and Tam had already sent shockwaves through the hemisphere, claiming a large amount of the scientific community. Gone were the days of his internship when there had been a chance to learn and better their understanding of their world. To test his skills and aid in medical research. Even without the support of the academic community didn't stop Ratchet's desire to learn, just his dream of teaching his skills to another generation.
"That's very special. You two are very lucky, to have each other," Ratchet said as he continued to scan them. To have someone there for you, regardless if they're around or not, must be comforting in a universe this big and empty.
"It's great sometimes, when Sunny isn't in a bad mood," Sideswipe said, poking his brother in the shoulder, Sunstreaker batted his hand away.
"Who wants to be grinning like a moron all the time anyway," the little yellow one shot back, the corner of his lip plates turning into a smirk.
"Me!" Sideswipe yelled, grabbing Sunstreaker's cheek plates and pinching them, "Smile Sunshine!"
Sunstreaker struggled as best he could with his chest open, but couldn't stop the laughter tumbling out of him.
"No! I don't wanna be a moron! Help me Ratchet!" he yelled through chuckles. Ratchet himself could barely contain his laughter as he intervened, finally separating them. They both stopped their giggling, but Sideswipe still had a grin on his face. Sunstreaker was now gasping. Ratchet could see the problem right in front of him as he watched Sunstreaker's valves working. The faulty one was barely moving and the other was overworking to compensate.
"What about your creators? Where are they?" that question was answered with a shrug from Sideswipe. His brother continued to gasp, his scowl firmly back in place. He guessed their avoidance was more to do with not wanting to talk about it than genuinely not knowing.
He extended his electro-calibrator from his middle finger, pausing to look at his little patient.
"Now Sunstreaker, I need you to draw in as much oxygen as possible, and hold it in until I say so. Okay?" Ratchet asked. He needed only a few astroseconds to fix the problem. Sunstreaker looked at him, his optics loosing the scowl and replaced by something else. Was it nerves or fear? Sideswipe gazed long and hard between the two before he took the yellow ones hand and leaned over him.
"We'll both do it, ok Sunny?" he whispered, his hold on his brothers hand. Sunstreaker nodded slowly after a few clicks. They both looked into Ratchet, who nodded at them to start. At the same time they both filled their o2 tanks then held it. Ratchet worked quickly, realigning the piston and tightening the joint.
"Done," he announced. Both twins exhaled, cycling oxygen again. The difference was immediate. Sunstreaker's gasping was gone. His optics widened as his valves finally behaved like they should and was drawing in the right amount. Sideswipe was practically bouncing on his knees, grinning at his brother.
Ratchet closed the little chest cavity and help the yellow twin sit up. He couldn't help the grin that spread out over his little face. An identical copy of his brothers. Before Ratchet could stop them, they were both stood up, bouncing up and down, giggling gleefully. Even the gruff medic, who enjoyed his reputation, didn't have the heart to stop them. At first anyway.
"I can bounce higher!"
"No, I'm the best! I'm the best at everything!"
"Alright you two, settle down, I don't want to have to fix you again," he raised his voice over the shouts and laughter.
"Ratch? I heard-," a voice came from the door before stopping. Ratchet hadn't heard it open, not over the twins' noise, so jumped slightly. He turned his head to face Wheeljack, the mech stood looking quite confused at the scene in front of him, the fins on the side of his helm still lit up.
Both Younglings stopped still and turned to face the new mech. Ratchet sighed in relief now that they had stopped bouncing up and down. Both of them stared at Wheeljack, who was looking right back at him, optics crinkled in amusement.
"How come he gets to call you Ratch?" Sideswipe asked, turning back to Ratchet. The medic gave out a long suffering sigh and proceeded to lift the two off of the birth before one of them fell off.
"Because he doesn't know any better," Ratchet huffed, sending a glare to the inventor cum medic, who lit his fins up in a friendly gesture.
"I do, I just like to wind him up. It brightens my day," Wheeljack replied smiling down at the younglings, who were both looking up at him with identical looks of inquisitiveness.
"Who are your little patients then?" he asked kneeling down. Even though he knew that his friend had address him, Ratchet could tell he was waiting for the little ones to speak. And he wasn't disappointed.
"We're Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, but you can call us Sides and Sunny," the little red one said cockily, throwing an arm over his brothers shoulder plating, pulling him closer. The yellow one shrugged off the arm, muttering about the nickname.
"I'm Wheeljack, you can call me 'Jack if you want," the mech said, extending a hand. It was only then that Ratchet saw why Wheeljack had come into the clinic.
"Where the frag are your fingers?" he bellowed, looking incredulously at the three stumps of Wheeljack's three outer digits. The inventor had the grace to look guilty, scratching his fin with his uninjured hand. The twins were looking at the mangled hand with the same curiosity they had displayed when the mech first entered the room. Sideswipe even took to poking at the stumps.
"Long story short? Laser knife mishap. I would have reattached them myself, but I'm not too good with my left hand as I am with the right," he said, fins flashing brightly.
"You are a walking disaster! One day you're going to offline yourself for good! Then I'll drag you from the pit and offline you again!" The medic yelled, turning around and going back to the cabinets to retrieve more tools.
"Now that's not nice Ratch," He glanced at the twins and gave them a wink of the optics, which earned the inventor some quiet giggles. Ratchet sighed again as he walked back to the berth and motioned for Wheeljack to sit.
"Come on Sides, we're fixed, let's go," Sunstreaker said, dragging his twin by the arm.
"Bye 'Jack! Bye Ratch!" Sideswipe said as they began running out of the door.
"Hey! I didn't say you little glitches could leave yet!" Ratchet yelled, following them. The twins were fast and already through the lobby doors and off into the night before he was out of the room. He went to the doors and stood looking out for a moment, a knot of worry curling up in his tanks. Hopefully the two had somewhere to go. Or the good sense to come back if they needed to.
Younglings that young should at least have somewhere safe to recharge during the offcycle. Their refusal to say anything about their creators gave him a sinking feeling that they were all alone out there with no one but each other. Would that be enough for them to survive on? Especially on these streets that brought him injured mechs and femmes all the time, damaged from the harshness of life in the city and sporadic violence breaking out. Would any of them survive what's coming?
Ratchet heaved a sigh through his vents before locked the doors again and returning to his newest patient. Wheeljack had poked his head out of the door. Ratchets pensive far away expression turned to irritation as he entered the room.
"You left the doors open. Again," Ratchet said in a tight, controlled voice, vocal gears seizing slightly. Wheeljack scratched his fin again, a nervous gesture.
"So, brothers?" Wheeljack asked, trying to change the subject.
"Split park's," Ratchet replied as he took the first digit from where the inventor had lined them up next to him on the trolley. He pulled out the wiring and lines from both finger and hand, ready to begin the tedious job of reattachment.
"Really? I didn't know we had split spark's in the neighbourhood. Who's are they?" Wheeljack asked, fidgeting at the slight pain of the micro-welder.
"I don't think they belong to anyone. They wouldn't tell me where their creators were, Primus help them," Ratchet said as he magnified his vision to check that both energon lines had been repaired properly.
Wheeljack's fins lit up but he didn't say anything, which Ratchet was thankful for. It left him to let his CPU wander back to the little youngling. Sure enough, they had gotten away this time but if Ratchet saw them again, he'd make sure to find them somewhere safe to stay.