Disclaimer: I don't own them.
A/N: Wrote this awhile back, but never posted here - so just catching up! Three chapters total.
Warning: implied mpreg
First Aid, Primus bless his spark, asked no questions as Ratchet hurried to meet him in the deep abandoned corridor and quickly, but very gently, tipped something small and warm into his hand.
"Do what you can to keep him comfortable. There's no saving him," Ratchet warned, as First Aid ran a questing finger over the tiny silvery ball, no bigger than his thumb, parting the silky umbilical threads. It wasn't fair, to put this burden on him, but Ratchet had no choice, and nothing had ever been fair in this war, not for a very long time. "Just…just do what you can, and tell no one."
Ratchet looked back down the corridor behind him and then felt his spark clench as he glanced back down to First Aid's hand, saw the perfect miniature hand unfolding from the tangle of threads. Slaggit. Too early. Too undeveloped. Not even the most rudimentary of firewalls. If only he had known, recognized the signs…but such a thing was unprecedented, except in legend, in ancient medical texts that made no sense, discounted long ago as the gibberish of age and mistranslation.