Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I've forgotten…
Authors Notes: Set after the events of Divide and Conquer. The inspiration for Prime/Ratchet comes from hellsangelcurse's fantastic Mask of Words, in particular 'Horny'. This originally started as a little bit of RP between me and huntingospray when I said I needed some Ratchet/Prime fluff. So to amuse ourselves (and keep ourselves sane) at work, we played a little. Then I rewrote it all and expanded it, using some of the ideas we had touched on.
It had started probably the moment he met the Autobot leader. He had been reluctant to join the Autobots, yet unwilling to stand by and watch the destruction and deactivation so Optimus Prime had met with him personally, trying to convince the medic to join the Autobots and help save their once beautiful home world. It had been a short meeting, Prime convincing him easily that he would do more good on the side of the Autobots. And that the Decepticons would stop at nothing to get him, and the Autobots would be able to protect him. That was when it dawned on him that he was at risk. He was a valuable asset to any army. A medic that could fix just about anyone from just about anything. Optimus Prime's gentle, reassuring tones persuaded him more than anything.
At least that's what he figured out looking back.
It was only after he had Optimus Prime on his repair bay berth, hands deep in his chassis that he realised how much he needed Optimus. And as more than just a leader. Quiet nights where they would just sit and talk over a couple of cubes of mid-grade. As he desperately fought to save Prime's life while the others mounted a mission to Cybertron to get the part he needed, all he could think about was that he might never have that opportunity again.
Resolve hardened, he worked tirelessly; patching lines and splicing wires and all the while feeding in energon to keep Prime's systems functioning. When the team dispatched to Cybertron returned with the cosmotron, Ratchet thought he had never been so pleased to see Prime's optics online.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That evening found him sitting in the now-tidy repair bay, relishing the quiet. His report was already written and lay to one side, ready for submission. In his hand lay the burnt out cosmotron that he had had to replace. One piece that had almost meant the end of Optimus.
"Come on Ratch'. Not going to do you any good sitting there and moping." Ratchet looked up to see Wheeljack leaning against the doorjamb.
"I am not moping. I'm just… thinking."
"Ratchet, I've known you longer than anyone else here, and you are moping, sulking, whatever you want to call it."
"I nearly lost him today…" The whispered admission was so quiet that Wheeljack barely heard it.
"Ah Ratch'." Wheeljack crossed the room to stand next to Ratchet, placing a comforting hand on the medic's shoulder.
"But you didn't. You saved him." He paused, staring down at Ratchet. "So are ya going ta tell him?"
"What?"
"Ratch'… I've spent far too long watching you hide away from it. You like him. Simple as. Why not tell him?"
"I can't…" Wheeljack didn't have anything to say, the amount of pain in Ratchet's voice gave him the answer he was looking for.
"At the very least you are going to come and join in the party that Jazz has thrown." Looking up at Wheeljack, Ratchet knew he wasn't going to be able to get out of it. Not that he wanted to. Getting overcharged sounded like a really good idea at the moment.
"Fine." He subspaced the damaged cosmotron and stood up, following Wheeljack out of the repair bay.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The party in the rec room was in full swing. How Jazz had managed to get a stereo system in the Ark, Ratchet wasn't quite sure. But at least the music blaring out from it was acceptable. Wheeljack sat him down at a table, disappearing to grab them some high-grade. He wasn't sure where that would have appeared from (as far as he knew, his stash was untouched), but he thought it probably had something to do with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.
"Ratchet?" Lost in his thoughts, Ratchet looked up to see Optimus Prime standing by his table.
"Prime. How do you feel?" He asked, wincing as he did so. He was meant to be off duty.
"Much better, thank you Ratchet." Prime sat down at the table, nodding as Wheeljack reappeared, depositing several cubes of high-grade before shooting Ratchet a knowing smile and disappearing again. Prime nodded his thanks, pulling a cube towards him and pushing one towards Ratchet.
"Might as well enjoy my high-grade." He murmured, retracting his faceplate to sip at his energon.
"So that's where they got it from." Ratchet said, processor not quite registering he'd spoken until too late.
"Yes." Prime rumbled, sounding more amused than annoyed. "So enjoy it while you can." Ratchet nodded, taking a slow sip of the high-grade, appreciating the flavor. They sat in silence for a while, Prime watching the antics of the younger 'bots, before breaking the silence.
"There is hope now that we have made contact with Cybertron again."
"Yes, of course." Ratchet looked up from staring at the table, having been lost in his own thoughts.
"It would be good to see Magnus again." Prime mused, missing the brief look of jealously that flashed across Ratchet's face.
"Yes." He managed to bite out, taking a larger sip of the high-grade. It was stronger than he was expecting (Prime really did have good sources) and he spluttered slightly, drawing a concerned look from Prime.
"Are you all right Ratchet?"
"Just fine." He managed, deliberately not looking at Prime, knowing exactly what expression his leader's face would hold. And not wanting to see it. Not this soon. Mercifully, Prime didn't object, merely sipping at his high-grade.
They sat there like that for a long while, both sipping slowly at their high-grade, idle words passing between them.
"Well, I should get back to work." Prime murmured, placing his empty cube back down on the table.
"Work? You've just been repaired; you can't go back to work." Ratchet slipped easily back into medic-mode.
"I'm just going to read reports, that's all." Prime attempted to reassure Ratchet. Ratchet merely snorted and put down his cube, staring at Prime.
"You are not going to do any work until I deem you fit enough!" He stated, half-expecting Prime not to listen to him.
"I will only be straining my optics Ratchet, and if you have to replace those, you can confine me to quarters for as long as you desire." Ratchet just snorted.
"If you really wish, you can accompany me to make sure I don't strain myself. You don't appear to be enjoying yourself as normal." If Ratchet had looked up, he might have caught the mischievous glint in Prime's optics.
"I… I have things on my mind." Ratchet muttered. It was true; he wasn't enjoying himself like he normally would. He found his thoughts returning to Prime and the memory of his hands deep in his chassis, trying to stem the energon flow and replace the parts to keep him functioning.
"Sounds like you need to talk." Ratchet found himself nodding despite himself. Prime stood up and looked down at Ratchet, taking in the tension in the medic's frame.
"Finish that cube and let's go." The request almost sounded like an order, except for the note of concern in Prime's voice. Ratchet stared at his cube before picking it up and downing the rest of the high-grade.
"Fine."
"Oh don't make it sound like a chore." Prime grinned behind his mask. "It'll be just like old times." Ratchet merely huffed and followed Prime out of the rec room. Wheeljack watched them leave and clapped Smokescreen on the shoulder.
"Look, toldya it would happen eventually."
"We'll see. Ratchet's danced around the subject for far too many years now."
"So's Prime." Wheeljack shrugged. "Maybe if they actually sit down and talk to one another…"
"Who knows…?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Make yourself comfortable." Prime indicated a chair as they entered his office. Ratchet followed, ill at ease at being this close to Prime, despite everything. He settled himself in the chair, optics following Prime around the room as he collected a container of high-grade and a couple of cubes.
"They didn't find all of it." He explained as he sat down.
"I'm surprised you didn't hide something that good better." Ratchet mused.
"I hadn't exactly realised the Twins would attempt to steal it. Even if it was for everyone to use. Perhaps if they had just asked me, I would have agreed." Despite his words, Prime didn't sound angry.
"They're the Twins." Ratchet said, as though that explained everything. "You should know better with Sideswipe. Once he's gotten a sniff of decent high-grade, he'll want to sample it."
"So how did you stop him getting into your stash?" Prime handed him a cube. "And don't pretend you don't have one, I know you better than that."
Ratchet accepted the cube and took a thoughtful sip before answering.
"I threatened to reformat Sunstreaker and to tell him it was Sideswipe's fault."
"You definitely deserve that nickname." Prime winced at the thought of the damage Sunstreaker would inflict on Sideswipe. "Although it certainly does explain why he doesn't attempt to steal your stash."
"No, he just brews his own now." Ratchet grumbled.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Prime leant back in his chair, retracing his battlemask to sip at the high-grade. Ratchet began to relax. They hadn't had a chance to just simply sit and talk since they landed on Earth, both concerned with other things.
"It's been too long since we did this." Prime mused, glancing up at Ratchet.
"It has." Ratchet agreed, a fond tone in his voice.
"Now, if I'm not allowed to read my reports, you have to tell me what's on your processor." Prime offered, attempting to find out why exactly Ratchet wasn't his normal self. Ratchet slumped in his chair a little and gave Prime a withering look. He really didn't want to tell Prime what was wrong. How exactly could he bring up the fact that he was upset that he'd nearly lost Prime? Venting a sigh, he shrugged and told Prime what was wrong.
"I nearly lost you."
"But you didn't. You saved me. And for that, I thank you." Ratchet tilted his head in acceptance of the thanks.
"You don't need to thank me." He answered; tone slightly gruffer than normal.
"It's more than that though, isn't it?" Prime pressed further, something telling him that he wasn't getting the full explanation.
"If Wheeljack hadn't had a spare in his workshop, you wouldn't be sitting here right now."
"Don't focus on the bad things Ratchet. Wheeljack had a spare and you repaired me." Ratchet nodded slowly, intent on the contents of his cube.
"Ratchet?"
"Optimus… I… frag it, never mind." Losing his nerve, Ratchet downed the rest of his cube and stood up, ready to leave. Prime caught him near the door, a hand resting on his shoulder briefly before turning the medic to face him.
"Ratchet?"
"I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you." Ratchet whispered brokenly. Prime paused, his hand still resting on Ratchet's shoulder, fingers tightening fractionally as he processed Ratchet's statement.
"I didn't know you felt like that." Prime's voice was little more than a whisper. Ratchet just nodded, not able to meet Prime's optics.
"I do. Now if you don't mind." Summoning what strength he had left, he turned again to leave, stepping towards the door.
"Don't leave." The tremble in Prime's voice made Ratchet turn around again, worry clear on his faceplates. He stayed where he was, shocked by the open emotion on Prime's faceplates.
"Optimus?"
"I can't lose you either." Ratchet cycled his optics, surprised at the admission. Never had he considered that Prime might actually feel the same way.
"Don't toy with me Optimus. This isn't a game." Emotional, he couldn't help but snap at Prime.
"I'm not playing Ratchet. And I am well aware it isn't a game, which is why I haven't said anything." The commanding tone was back in Prime's voice.
"You're not?" Something akin to relief flooded through Ratchet's spark. He hadn't just made a fool of himself, and his sparkfelt desire was actually coming true.
"I'm not. I never realised you felt the same, you never gave any signs."
"I do. And it's not like you gave any signs either!" Ratchet couldn't help but retort.
"I didn't wish to make you a target. Or at least any more of a target." Nodding slowly, Ratchet could understand his reasons. The easiest way to demoralise an army was to target its medics. It was the only reason Ratchet carried a weapon. Having been caught in an attack early on in the war, he'd been convinced to carry a weapon, even if it was against his principles. An armed medic was a less likely victim for the Decepticons. And Ratchet was a fair shot, even if he didn't want to have to fire. But given the choice between his patients' lives or the life of a Decepticon, his patients came first.
"Just fragged that one up then, didn't I?" Ratchet allowed himself a small wry smile. Prime actually chuckled at that, relief causing his frame to lose the tension it held.
"I think we did." He agreed. "Where do we go from here?"
"I… I don't know." Ratchet took a step towards Prime. "I suppose we can go back to drinking the rest of your high-grade." After the last few minutes, Ratchet's systems were telling him that he needed more energy. Or more that he needed to get thoroughly overcharged.
"I suppose we can." Slowly, they retook their seats, moving slightly closer to one another without being aware of it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"So where did you and Prime disappear off to last night then?" Wheeljack grinned from the doorway of Ratchet's office.
"We talked." Ratchet answered noncommittally.
"Finally." Wheeljack's headfins flashed as he stepped into the office. "So?" He prompted when it seemed clear that Ratchet wasn't going to elaborate.
"So?" Ratchet looked up from the datapad he had been reading.
"So, are you going to tell me what happened?"
"No."
"Ratch', that just ain't fair." Ratchet just snorted and returned his attention to his datapad.
"I'm not telling you what happened, that's between Optimus and myself."
"Heh, well as long as the two a you are getting things sorted."
"We're working on it." That was the most Ratchet would say on the subject and Wheeljack left it at that, turning to head back to his workshop.
"'Jack?" Ratchet calling his name stopped him and he glanced over his shoulder at the medic.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"No problems Ratch', no problems." Grinning to himself, he left Ratchet's office and headed for his workshop, intent on talking to Smokescreen as soon as he could.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ratchet found himself actually counting the minutes until the end of his designated shift, something that was so unlike him it stopped him short when he realised what he'd been doing. He and Prime had agreed to meet after their respective shifts for some energon and a game of Triad and he was nervous, something he hadn't felt for a long time. Not since he first met Optimus Prime actually. He remembered the meeting like it was yesterday. He'd been a well-known medic with patients travelling across Cybertron to seek out his services.
Then the war started.
He'd found his patients slowly dwindling as their hometowns were overrun by the Decepticons. The day before he'd been due to meet Prime, he turned up to find the Decepticon leader waiting in his office. Despite every rumor that he'd heard, Megatron had been civil towards him, suggesting that he might find himself safer in the Decepticon army. The subtle threat was not lost on him and he found himself losing his temper, shouting at Megatron to leave. Megatron had then backed him against the wall and told him that he had either best join the Decepticons or leave Cybertron.
When he left his office that evening, he found himself looking over his shoulder all the time, worried that Megatron would carry through with his threats.
The next day, making his way back to his office, spark pulsing furiously with nerves at the thought of the meeting. Would Prime be the same as Megatron and try to convince Ratchet to join the Autobots.
The meeting had been long; Optimus talking at length about the Autobot cause and what he believed in and why they should stand against the Decepticons. The crux came when he mentioned that he knew that Megatron had visited the medic the previous day. Ratchet had nodded slowly, relating exactly what Megatron had said. Prime pointed out that Megatron would not stop unless Ratchet either joined the Decepticons or was deactivated. He was too valuable to be lost to the Autobots in Megatron's optics. Ratchet hated the destruction that was being waged on their home world, yet he hadn't wanted to be a part of it, preferring to remain as neutral as he could. Until Megatron had made his visit and intentions known. Prime promised that he would be protected in the Autobots and that he would be helping to restore peace to Cybertron.
Later, Ratchet wasn't quite sure whether it had been Prime's words that convinced him, or the mech himself. He freely admitted to himself that he'd found the mech attractive. Tall and well constructed and that voice... Ratchet swore that voice caressed his audios like the finest music Cybertron had to offer.
"Ratchet?" Ratchet jumped as that very voice called his name. He looked up to see Prime standing in the doorway to his office. A quick check of his chronometer showed him that his shift was over.
"I thought something might have come up." Prime said, uncertainty creeping into his tone.
"My apologies, I was caught up in my memories." He apologised, quickly tidying his desk and standing up.
"Oh?" Prime quirked an optic ridge as they made their way to his quarters.
"Remember when you came to see me at the start of the war?" Prime nodded, ushering Ratchet into his quarters.
"When I heard Megatron had visited you, I admit I was worried. More so after I actually met you."
"Oh?" Now it was Ratchet's turn to quirk an optic ridge.
"You're determined to drag a confession out of me, aren't you?" Prime groaned theatrically. "I was attracted to you that day." He busied himself setting up the board for their game, not meeting Ratchet's optics. Ratchet closed the distance between them, placing his hand over Prime's.
"I thought exactly the same." He admitted, rather enjoying Prime's startled look. "I could never be sure whether it was your speech or you that convinced me to join."
"You don't regret it though?" Prime had to ask, even though he was sure of the answer.
"No. After Megatron's visit… well, I hadn't realised how much danger I could actually be in. I had just wanted to stay away from all the fighting."
"I'm glad you joined. I would have hated the thought of you being deactivated by Megatron." Ratchet nodded and sat down, letting Prime finish setting up the board.
They played several games and drank a few cubes of mid-grade, simply enjoying one another's company. Just like old times, though they were both aware of the shift that had now occurred.
At the end of the night, Ratchet stood to leave.
"Stay." Prime looked up from where he still sat as he spoke.
"Optimus… I…"
"I'm not after anything Ratchet, not yet. Just… stay?"
"All right." Acquiescing, Ratchet lingered. Prime stood up, stepping towards Ratchet and enfolding the medic in a hug.
"What about Elita-One?" Ratchet asked, voice muffled where he rested against Prime's windscreen.
"I… we didn't exactly part on the best of terms Ratchet." Prime found himself subconsciously stroking Ratchet's back as he explained the situation.
"We argued. She didn't want me to leave. I… we broke things off." He paused, the memory of Elita-One running up as the Ark took off flashing into his processor. If he had been able to abort the launch, he would have, just to find out what she wanted. He had hoped that she wanted to make amends, but he would never know. He wasn't even sure if she still functioned after all the years that had passed. Perhaps now that they had made contact with Cybertron he would be able to find out.
Reluctantly, Ratchet pulled away.
"I don't want to be the cause of anything between you Optimus. I know that now we're able to contact Cybertron again, you'll want to speak to her." His voice was soft, a trace of hurt edging in his words. How could he have forgotten about Elita-One?
"Ratchet… much time has passed. She may not feel the same way." Ratchet stilled his intakes as Prime paused, not sure whether he wanted to hear what else Prime had to say.
"And I've spent so long wishing that I could be with you." Processing the statement twice before he responded, Ratchet couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.
"You'd give her up for me?"
"For a chance. And there hasn't been an 'us' for over four million years."
"Stasis does not count!"
"I can't promise anything Ratchet, but I would like to see what could happen between us. I'll understand if you don't want to try anything, given the circumstances."
"Optimus, I… frag…" Ratchet stepped back, scrubbing a hand across his optics. It felt like his spark was withering. His dream was so tantalisingly close, and all he had to do was say yes. Say yes and ignore how Elita-One may feel. Say yes and ignore the potential repercussions.
"I can't be the reason you two aren't together." He whispered.
"You're not Ratchet." Prime gently cupped Ratchet's cheek, thumb stroking across the metal. "The decision happened before we left Cybertron. What happens now is purely between us." Ratchet leant into the simple touch, engine purring softly.
"Only if you're sure I'm not causing problems. I've waited so long for something like this." Ratchet murmured.
"I had no idea." Prime returned apologetically.
"I wouldn't have wanted you to do anything to jeopardise what you had with Elita-One."
"The war jeopardised that in the end." Prime mused, his own engine rumbling as Ratchet leant into his touch. Carefully, he tilted Ratchet's head to face him, wanting to look the medic in the optics.
"I don't want this war to jeopardise us." He closed the distance between them, taking a chance and pressing his lips to Ratchet's. Ratchet responded slowly, as though unsure of the situation.
It was a gentle chaste kiss, but it was a start. Ratchet's optics were shining as Prime pulled back.
"Stay?" Prime asked again, leading them to the berth. Ratchet didn't put up any protest this time, letting Prime arrange them on the berth, limbs entwined as closely as they felt comfortable.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You sly dog you!" Ratchet looked up to see Wheeljack at his office door, mask retracted and a wide grin on his face.
"Excuse me?"
"You spent the night at Prime's." Wheeljack elaborated. "You don't need to tell me what you got up to!"
"We didn't get up to anything!" Ratchet protested. Wheeljack stopped at the look of indignation on Ratchet's face.
"Okay, okay." He held up his hands in mock defence and stepped into the office properly, leaning against Ratchet's desk.
"Ya don't sound like things went okay?" He asked, concerned. He'd been friends with Ratchet for years, and despite the friendly teasing, he did care about the medic. Which was why he'd been pushing for years for the medic to tell Prime how he felt. Even on Cybertron, it had been easy to forget about Elita-One as she was on a separate base commanding the femmes.
"Did I do the right thing letting him know how I feel?" Ratchet whispered, staring back down at his desk.
"Oh Ratch', ya can't start thinking like that. Ya said you were talking. That's a start. No mech's expecting ya ta jump straight into the berth with each other!"
"They weren't together when we left Cybertron. Optimus… Optimus says he wants to give us a chance." Ratchet continued, speaking softly.
"Well then. Don't worry about what might happen later. Focus on what's happening now." Wheeljack advised, patting Ratchet's shoulder. "And keep 'talking' to him." He couldn't help the grin and was relieved to see a smile on Ratchet's faceplates. Ratchet shook his head; Wheeljack could always get a smile out of him.