Good Samaritans
That night Ratchet didn't even make it to his quarters before he crashed.
It had been a very long and very stressful shift in the OR piecing Jazz back together after the Porsche had a far too close encounter with a Sidewinder missile, not to mention denying Huffer, Gears and Brawn to the Grim Reaper when the trio had all come in drenched with one of Mixmaster's specialty acidic brews.
So, several hours of surgery later and having been chased out of the operating theatre by Wheeljack, the Autobot CMO staggered into the nearest place that offered sanctuary- his office.
Slumped in his chair, head hanging back and arms dangling, Ratchet was in a state so close to being comatose that he never registered the entry of the owners of two shadows that flitted across the far wall of the cluttered room.
Cautiously, and with far more stealth than they were usually given credit for, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker crept into the sleeping mech's domain.
The red twin snuck across the floor to where the medic was slumped. Sideswipe waved one hand in front of Ratchet's face; when there was no reaction, the Lamborghini prodded him. Ratchet slid deeper into his chair.
"He's dead Jim." Sideswipe announced with a grin and winked cheekily at his twin. "Shall we?"
"Fine, whatever. Let's just get this over before someone sees us." Sunstreaker grumbled, looking about ready to take his fists to the nearest target at the ignobility of it all. But Sideswipe didn't miss the fond little half smile that graced his brother's face as the gilded twin manoeuvred behind the chair and gently slid his hands under Ratchet's arms while Sideswipe picked up the medic's legs, his hands secured around the CMO's knees.
"Ready?" Sunstreaker asked.
"Yup." Sideswipe readjusted his grip slightly. "Ok, on three. One, two, three." In one well practiced motion, the twins lifted the still slumbering medic, Sideswipe pushed the chair out of the way with his foot, and they started to carry Ratchet out of the office, taking care not to jolt their cargo.
Thankfully, the corridors were deserted at this time of night, so the trip to Ratchet's quarters was made with little interruption. Sideswipe tapped the door lock with his foot, and the twins entered and gently laid the sleeping medic on his recharge berth.
When they were safely outside with the door shut, Sideswipe asked "That's what, the eighth time now? You think he'll ever figure it out?"
"Nah." Sunstreaker shook his head. "We're not nice enough to be Good Samaritans."
"True that." Sideswipe flashed a wicked grin and playfully cuffed his brother's shoulder. "C'mon, let's go see if Jazz is awake."
Fin