Reverie

By Hasegawa-Michiyo

Decided to make this a one shot. Wasn't happy with the way the story was progressing. I have plans to create a full length story based on this idea when I have more time to commit.

Prelude

The air was thick and stagnant, with the sun low on the horizon. It lingered there like a ball on the edge of a table, teetering on the precipice of the world. The crimson light shone off a giant siting still on the water. The large cargo ship shadowed the other vessels in the abandoned shipping yard. It moaned and creaked as the old bearings and fastenings relaxed with age, almost as if in anticipation of the events to come. A light fog had shrouded the tranquil water beneath it - a living cloak.

"Ratchet!"

A sharp scream pierced the air like a hot knife on butter and echoed throughout the vacant cargo ship. A fembot sat against her will on the deck, her hands clenched in stasis cuffs. Her optics bore into the calm Autobot standing in front of her. Wishing with all her might that she could talk some sense into the medic. She studied his face in horror. But she knew there was no use. Slagging, stubborn Mech with his pure spark and good intentions. She was not to be protected like some delicate flower.

She watched helpless as he turned to leave her there. To be a hero. Her frustration was building with each passing minute and her spark quickened within her chassis as her desperation increased. "You can't leave me here!" she tried to sound strong but it came out like hopeless desperation. Her spark breaking with each step he took. He stopped and turned to look at her face distorted with anxiety and fear.

Stoic.

He was always stoic.

"How can you be so selfish?" she hissed. His brow ridge pressed together. "Selfish?" The hateful word circled in his CPU over and over as he tried to make sense of her intentions. He had been called many things throughout his life that would grind his gears, but he had never been called selfish. How could she call him selfish of all things? Everything he had done for her, for everyone, had been completely selfless. He has seen fellow soldiers – friends die before his optics countless times. While some had died for cause, others did not. At times all he could do was watch as their life drained from their optics and their sparks returned to Primus and the All Spark. He could however, have control over this outcome.

Selfish, Yes.

He understood now.

He would not suffer the loss of another, he would be selfish…

…

"You always had all the answers." The Femme sits alone in silence next to a medical berth, longing to go back to a simpler time before any conflict transpired. The burden of the world weighed on her broken spark. She had been sitting there for several hours – unaware of the cycles gone by. She was in a place where time and space were at a standstill. Her optics, transfixed on the broken frame in front of her.

Unmoving.

Silent.

She watched the chassis, almost waiting for the body to animate again. Hoping this was all just a cruel joke and everyone would come out of hiding to laugh at her. But, this was no joke, yet it didn't seem to be real. All she could do was hope she would awaken from recharge. Her optics flickered to the many electronic devices that flanked the berth. Luminescent screens and blinking apparatus are the only source of light in the empty chamber. The medical equipment hard at work, filled the room with a peaceful ambiance, but she was anything but peaceful.

She continued to monitor the Autobot in front of her. Fragments of a former comrade. The broken remains of a medical genius and she had to put the pieces back together – but where does one begin to pick up all the pieces? He had taught her so much and yet it isn't enough. "No matter how much knowledge and experience you gain, it will never seem to be adequate." His voice echoed in the back of her mind. "I'm scared I will forget you," she shut her optics to take in the darkness. "I never want to forget."

A soft sigh.

The porcelain and violet femme left the broken Autobot's side. She wandered over to the recharge berth in a small room attached to the ICU, with the medical berth still in view. She laid down knowing it was probably all just a waste of time, but she just wasn't ready to say good bye.

Ratchet.

That's what his name was.

"Ratchet." her voice was but a soft whisper in the darkness. The name added so much weight to her chassis. A name she had spoken with such ease now had the density of a dying star. A name that held so much meaning to her life and evoked so much emotion in her spark was now wiped from the board. The femme shut her optics in a sad attempt to get some much needed recharge. A sad attempt indeed. She rolled over to look at his spark glowing in its containment unit one last time before she closed her optics in silent meditation.

…

His warm smile was approachable, but his optics spoke of loss and the harsh effects of war – yet, they were neither cold nor unreceptive. The new recruit stood before her instructor with curiosity and apprehension. Steller cycles, vorns of knowledge and understanding. His wisdom shines off him like a pulsar. The florescent lights reflect off the medics renewed armour distorting the hues of green and grey – a contrast to the rough Cybertronian metal underneath. His arms are crossed in front of his broad chassis as he scrutinized the white and lavender femme before him.

"Welcome to the Autobots," he beamed, his blue optics shinning down at her lavender hues from atop his broad frame. "You already know who I am from our last meeting." The medic rubbed his sore shoulder. She shifted uncomfortably in memory of the week before "I'm sorry I shot you, if I could make it up to you in some way I -" he raised his hand to cut her off. There was no reason for her to feel worse than she already did. "You have quite the aim, you must have some experience with firearms?" bring the attention back to her he watched her optics slink to her feet.

"Nope, just a lucky shot." She looked back up at Ratchet to see a look of slightly surprise "Indeed, you managed to hit me right on an old war wound." She cringed "Right. Lucky for me, unlucky for you." A chuckle, strong, deep. The sound of his voice warmed her spark. It was everything she needed to hear to set her nerves at ease. "It's quite alright, I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't mean to embarrass you." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's only fair."

"Have you've finished your basic training with Ironhide and Sideswipe?"

"Well…not exactly."

"Oh?"

"The evening was cut short…"

"You shot me in the foot!"

"Oh slag!"

"What did I just say about the importance of the safety switch?!"

"I know, I know."

She watched in horror as Sideswipe rolled around on the floor in pain "I'm so sorry! Should I get Ratchet?" The femme panicked to locate the Autobot medic as Ironhide chuckled at his comrade grimacing on the floor of the base. "No need, get off the floor you sparkling." The gruff mech kicked the bot on the aft. "Primus, I swear it won't happen again!" She struggled to withhold a few giggles.

The femme in reprieve glanced over at Sideswipe still sour from the evening before. Her shoulders hunched under his vexed gaze. All chances of a good impression gone out the window. She wanted to earn her place among the Autobots and maybe become a valued member of the team, instead she was well on her way in becoming the base reject.

The medic groaned. "No matter, come with me," he beckoned for her "I'll show you where we'll be working. She proceeded behind the large bot down a narrow hall, just off the main base. To the small creatures inhabiting the earth it would look like a huge corridor. Miniature walkways with pale metal railings line the ramparts. Viewing rooms filled with communication devices lookout into the Autobot headquarters. The femme studied the small fixtures in silent amusement as she tried to keep pace with her instructor.

"How do they get any privacy?" The femme whispered. She felt like she was in a prison, held up for some unknown crime against humanity. Surly she wasn't alone in her mental state? These tiny creatures tell the Cybertronians what to do, where to go, when to rest. This was all starting to feel very familiar to the femme. Had she simply traded one evil of another? There was no way to tell for sure. She had made her decision regardless.

"It must be stressful living in these conditions," She observed the small fleshy beings spaced out across the base. Special Forces and Veteran Intelligence Officers returned her gaze. "I mean, do we have anywhere we go for privacy." She looked at her mentor with concern - her sanity at stake. So many tiny optics watching in all directions. He proceeded down the hall before answering her concerns. When they entered another section of the base he turned to meet her pressing optics.

"I know it seems overwhelming right now, but you will get used to it," She shuttered at the thought of one getting use to this. "It's certainly not Cybertron, but…we make to most of what we have" Her audio receptors pick up on the slightest change in his vocal processors.

Solemn.

He seemed disheartened.

No, she suspects one does not simply get use to this.

She followed her adviser into the recovery bay. More small observation decks hang out from the walls for the humans to get involved when they needed to. She analysed the different kinds of mechanical devices and tools laid out on a desk. To her or anyone else for that matter it would be nothing but junk - scrap metal and broken electronics. "Sorry for the mess," he quickly tried to clean up the muddled devices. "I'll make sure it's ready for you tomorrow morning, I didn't have much time to prepare and I certainly wasn't expecting to share this space, but we can always use another medic." He looked over at the femme who wasn't paying attention.

Great.

This was going to be fun.

The CMO cleared his throat, slightly annoyed. "I'm sorry." She shook her head to clear the barrage of thoughts. "It's just, you seemed a bit…unsettle before." Ratchet raised an optic ridge, mildly surprised at her observation. For a femme who hardly seemed to listen she sure was perceptive. He subtly scanned the med bay for any unwanted listeners before responding. "Forgive my discretion, I know are circumstances are far from ideal, but many of us have simply redefined privacy." Familiar indeed, she let out as small sigh. "I was worried you would say that.."

Darn. Had she made a mistake? Should she have stayed, but even then one never knows where life will take them. All you can ever do is make decision. That's all there ever is. For better or for worse it doesn't matter, does it? The medic turned to examine the fembots twisted expression. Worry, alienation, loneliness. Yes she was quite the mess. Ratchet tried to think of a way to help her, to comfort her. But, he found himself at a loss of words – a rarity for the verbose medic. Instead he simply placed his hand on her shoulder plate.

Strong.

Sincere.

The fembot melted under the warm gesture, becoming a puddle of liquefied metal. She wondered how such a simple act of kindness could ground her. Perhaps all she needed was a little physical contact from another bot. She felt a rush of heat in her chassis as she looked up at her mentor.

A handsome smile.

His gentle spark seemed to be a contradictory to his rough and tough exterior. But, who was she to judge anyone. She all too often saw the goodness in everyone, which got her into trouble on more than one occasion. It's easy to be taken advantage of by individuals when you make excuses for their bad behavior. But, there was something about this bot in particular that made her believe every word he said and not feel manipulated. Yes, he was genuinely a trust worth and loyal companion.

Tried and true.

"There's nothing to worry about, you'll be just fine."

…

"…Flower?"

"Flower?" the voice intensified.

That's right. How could she have forgotten? That name seemed so cold to her now. A distant midnight star shinning down from the picturesque sky above. Its light, nothing but a mere glimpse into the distant past. And she dare not look upon it in this living nightmare. But, she didn't have much of a choice. The memories had burst through the wall she had built and were now infecting her dreams like a virus.

"Flower!"

She snapped back to reality from a large, robust mech shaking her tired frame. He peered down at her as she lay on the berth – groggy and dis-tempered. As she sat up to greet him his upturned face twisted into a light smile. His green optics stared into hers, the relief was eminent. How long has she been out? "Welcome back kid, I thought you'd gone south on me." The tired femme rubbed her optics disoriented and looked up at the heavy set Autobot before her. "Sorry Hound, I don't remember the last time I recharged." The large mech shrugged his shoulders. "No problem, I don't remember the last time I had an oil change, heck, I don't even remember the last time I inter -"

"- What do you need, Hound?" she cut him off, she did not need to hear the end of that sentence. "Do you need medical assistance?" her former mentor's voice overlapped her own and she soon regretted the words as they came out of her mouth. Hound watched solemnly as she gripped the side of the berth trying to get a hold of her emotions. He soon regretted coming to bother her with such a trivial matter. Damage control. "The big bot wants a status report…but I could always tell him to shove it up his afterburners."

A week smile.

"Hey, haven't seen one of those in a while, I think you might have cracked a faceplate," the large bot chuckled to himself "You sure did learn everything there was to know from the doc bot." Hound tried to make light of the grim circumstances, but quickly realized his mistake when she didn't respond. He sighed silently, So much for damage control. Why did he have to go running at the mouth like that he thought to himself?

Silence.

"His spark may be functional, but his body…" her vocals seized up. Flower begrudgingly stood up from her recharge berth and left the room. Her body not wanting to leave the comfort and safety of the chamber where she could block out the world and barely exist. Sometimes the wayward femme wished her body would just make up its mind. When she was in the slagging berth she never wanted to get out of it, but when she was out of it she never wanted to get back in it. Flower knew full well that she would have to change her attitude if she was going to make a difference.

If only she could go back in time. There are so many things she wish she would have done, things she wish she would have said. Yes, she would have made the most of the time she had with him and not have taken it for granted. Taken him for granted. Perhaps if she worked harder, studied harder…no she can't think like that. Flower pressed her servo to her head and continued to walk into the ICU with a concerned Hound close behind, trying not to look at the empty shell of an Autobot laying on the recharge berth only meters away. As she did so, a tiny flowering plant in a vessel of earth caught her attention as she passed by.

The HID lamp rained down on the droopy leaves barley giving life to its meager existence. The only source of energy in this otherwise alien environment. A few petals lay shrived on the damp grainy soil. A barrage of memories flooded her CPU, making her knee joints go weak. She grasped onto the medical berth for support and her optics locked onto her mentors - empty and still. Her body stasis locked. She found herself unable to look away. Hound, in concern placed his servo on her shoulder plate. "Hey, everything alright?"

Flower slowly reached out to touch Ratchet's face. Her digits ran along the rough Cybertronian metal. She could feel every grove, ever scrape like a memoir of his life and experiences. As her digits rolled off his chin she realized there was so much she didn't know about him. So much of his life she missed and she feared she may never know. "You can't leave yet, Sparky." her mind raced back to when she first met the Autobots and started her new life. She never could have imagined where her life was going, that she would become a medic in an age old war...