Ratchet awoke to something moving. Groggily, his systems began to slowly wake up from his recharge, information flooding through him. He realized that he was still in the med bay; however he could not recall where he had fallen asleep, knowing that his body aching meant that he never made it to his own berth that night to where he could get comfortable. After a moment, the movements began again, and he quickly realized that they were not his. Slowly his body began to warm up, and he was about to try to wake himself up fully, but not before a servo gently touched the back of his helm, as if it would help in trying to stir him into the world of the waking.
"Ratchet?" came a hoarse voice that the medic realized was not far away. "Ratch', yew awake? 'M sure tha' sleepin' on ah berth like this won't be too good fer ya."
Instantly the CMO recognized this voice as the weapons speaclist that he had worked so hard in trying to save. His own internal clock said that it had only been a few Earth hours since he had fallen asleep, however he was wide awake when he realized who it was who was trying to wake him up. Taking a deep breath and on lining his optics, Ratchet sat up and tried to stretch, joints popping instantly as he did so. And for a moment, Ratchet could have sworn that he had never felt so happy in his life.
Ironhide stared drowsily up at the medic, however still held the face that he had made when the old medic's joints popped. He seemed better, and Ratchet was relieved to see those dark blue optics again, and hear that gruff old voice again. Relaxing, Ratchet set his arms back down at on the berth near Ironhide's, optics for a moment staring as if he didn't know what to do or say to the mech that seemed dead not so long ago. Finally, it seemed, the old medic found his vocals enough to give a kind rant to the bed ridden mech.
"Primus, Ironhide," breathed Ratchet, leaning forward as if he still couldn't believe that the mech lying on the med berth was actually awake, "I thought you were dead, you know that? We all thought you were dead!" At those words, Ironhide smiled in the dimly lite med bay.
"Nice t' know ya cared, Ratch'," croaked 'Hide in a low voice, obviously straining to merely talk if only to give the medic satisfaction in knowing that he still able to function the way he used to. Having no good retort for that, due to the fact that he was currently too tired, the mech sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair and began messaging his fore helm with a servo; a gesture that usually meant he had a headache, which Ironhide couldn't blame.
"I swear, Ironhide," Ratchet finally sighed after a moment of peace, dropping his servo to look back at the weapons speaclist with a look of grim tired. "You're more trouble than you're worth, you know that, right?" informed the medic, finally giving a half-hearted smile. Ironhide chuckled.
"Than why d'ya keep me then?" Ironhide asked, trying to sit up; he was stopped from doing so, however, by a light green-yellow servo on his chest that easily pushed him back down without an effort; something that would have been harder had he been at full health.
"Oh no," said Ratchet with a tone in his voice as he stood up. "You're stayin' right there until you get better, you hear me?" Although a question, Ironhide knew that it was an order, and obediently did as he was told; he didn't want a wrench thrown at him, plus, he was comfortable and warm where he was. Picking up an Energon cube from the nearby table, Ratchet said softly, "Here, you've lost a lot of Energon; you need to fill up." Helping the mech keep his helm lifting up with a gentle servo, Ratchet used the other to gently pour the liquid into his friend's waiting mouth.
"Thanks," muttered Ironhide when he pulled back from the empty cube, still trying to swallow some he had in his throat; some drops of Energon slowly scathing down the sides of his cheek. It took all of Ratchet's will power to not upt and wipe it away. Luckily he was caught staring, and Ironhide weakfuly raised a servo to wipe it off.
Ratchet sighed as he sat the empty cube down, turning to walk around the berth and began looking over the machines that were still hooked up to Ironhide. It seemed that Ironhide ran out of anesthetics faster than he had thought; the amount the was still in the machine was not a lot, and the machine had instantly lowered the amount of anesthetics given so it wouldn't run out as fast; and of course, the amount being given at the moment was not enough to keep Ironhide out. Ratchet guessed that he woke up of his own free will since he was no longer in stasis lock; a lot of the smaller open cuts that Ratchet had yet to fix because they were not important were now healed completely, he realized; a few scars here and there from where they were, but still, they were closed up and that made Ratchet feel a whole lot better.
"Ratch'?" came the weak voice of the weapons speaclist; Ratchet realized that he had spaced out while thinking and looking over the machines; he hadn't realized that one of his servos had been hovering over one of the machines as well for a few several minutes.
"Hm?" asked the CMO, as if he hadn't heard Ironhide at all, turning around to face him; a pure expression of confusion laid over his facial plates. Ironhide smiled weakfuly at the expression, obviously amused.
"I said, ar' ya al'ight?" repeated 'Hide with a light smirk, obviously unable to produce a full smile, tilting his head to one side as if thinking as he asked the question. Ratchet merely swallowed before turning fully towards the injured mech, slight hesitation in his voice.
"I'm…. alright," Ratchet lied, however continued with the truth. "I just….. I haven't been recharging that much since you've been here. I swear, I'm alright?"
"An. how long 'ave ah been out?" questioned Ironhide before the medic could turn around and continue doing his work. Ratchet sighed heavily; why couldn't Ironhide just lay back down and rest some more? Then again, he had a right to what he didn't know, right?
"A couple of orns maybe," Ratchet informed, tiredness slightly edging in his voice. He touched a servo to his fore helm as his helm dipped, optics off lining for a moment. "I-I really cannot remember, Ironhide. I'm honestly sorry. I-I guess my processor is just going on the fritz because of what happened to you, and I just….."
Ratchet didn't finish his sentence, before trying to drop the conversation and turn back to his work, hopeful that Ironhide wouldn't press him any further. However, that was not like Ironhide; nor it would it ever be, for after a moment of silence, 'Hide obviously trying to think up of something to say, or rather trying to recall the events that happened to him not too long ago, he spoke up, as if trying to make the medic feel better.
"Ratch', I.. I… Thanks," Ironhide finally said after not getting the right word in, relaxing a bit more on the med berth. "I-I know I kinda screwed up again, huh? Almost gettin' mahself killed an' all and makin' ev'ryone worry? Betcha Bumblebee was scared a lot, too, huh? Pit, never really thought 'bout him? He al'ight, Ratch'?" Ratchet sighed, before realizing that he wouldn't get much done tonight and merely sat his things on the side table before spinning around on his heel to fact the healing mech.
"He's alright, 'Hide, just got spooked when I told him that he couldn't sleep with you tonight 'cause you were 'sick'," Ratchet explained. When Ironhide opened his mouth to speak, Ratchet cut him off with, "Don't worry, he's staying with Prime, tonight. Primus knows he cannot go into recharge without you or the Prime to cuddle up with him. I swear, it's like you two actually sparked him or something."
At that comment, both mechs smiled; it was quiet strange that, while Bumblebee happily played with all of his caretakers during the day without much fuss about it, and didn't mind taking naps in the rec room or in someone else's berth for a breem or two, when it came down to recharge time in the evening, Bumblebee put up a fuss if he wasn't sharing a berth with Ironhide or Optimus at the moment; anyone else he would give them a pit of a time. Well, unless they happened to be Wheeljack or Ratchet; Wheeljack spoiled, and whenever the sparkling was around the inventor being sparkling sat, 'Jack often played games with him and let him help build stuff - that wouldn't explode - by the end of the day Bumblebee was just too tired to try and put up a fuss not being able to lay down with Ironhide or Optimus. That, and Bumblebee completely adored Wheeljack; the old mech was one of the few that Bumblebee would want to be held by when he first "joined" the Autobots, and Wheeljack treated the sparkling like his own grand-sparkling.
Ratchet, on the other hand, was way more strict, and Bumblebee knew that. Although the sparkling thought it was funny when the medic hit other mechs that came into his med bay if they so angered him, Ratchet could be very scary at times. Therefore, Bumblebee chose not to anger the medic if he was able to choose. Ratchet was usually nice in taking care of him, too; letting him rearrange his tools to make them look nice, or explaining to him each of the tools uses and how they helped his patients. Being a smart little sparkling - or just too much like Ironhide to admit that he was confused and didn't have a clue as to what the medic was saying; or just too nice or afraid to ask Ratchet to explain more about was it was or how it worked - Bumblebee smiled and nodded, seeming to completely understand what Ratchet was saying to him as he gestured each object.
"And I take it everyone else is still worried about me?" Ironhide asked nervously. Trailing away from his thoughts, Ratchet groaned as he rubbed his servo against his fore helm, as if he had a helm ache or something.
"Primus, Ironhide, everyone thought you were dead," explained Ratchet, altogether looking serious as he spoke. "They were so worried. I was worried! Primus, Megatron hit you straight on with his Fusion Cannons; what was everyone supposed to expect, that a marical would happen? I'm not a marical worker, Ironhide, you know this!"
"Ratch'…." Ironhide started, a tone and expression passing quickly through him as he watched the almost panicking medic. "Ratchet, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to cause any harm. I was just trying to protect Prime, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Ratch', I get that I-"
"No, Ironhide, you don't get it!" snapped the medic, shaking his helm as for a moment he buried his facial plates in his servos before looking back up, a pure expression of seriousness on his face; his servos never left their place. "Primus, you had everyone worried! Pit, I was worried! You know how it feels thinking that I could easily loose someone, much less someone so fraggin' close to me? It doesn't feel too good Ironhide, it really doesn't. I swear to Primus - I…."
Ratchet groaned again, turning away from the lying and worried form as he shook his helm; he felt exhausted, and he could have gone without his emotions running loose on him. He was over reacting, sure; but he had gone without sleep for what seemed like ever, and his systems were warning of an intimate shut down if he didn't go and get some recharge soon. He heard a movement behind him as he thought, and spun around to see Ironhide weakfuly balancing on his elbows, watching with an expression that told the medic he half expected him to fall over any moment due to the exhaustion he was exerting. There were a few moments that passed by as they stared off, Ratchet looking half royally pissed off as he did so, and Ironhide looking back at him with so much concern that Ratchet didn't have it in him to keep yelling at him; that, and his vocal processors were going hoarse.
"Ratch'," Ironhide said after a moment, obviously contemplating something before scootching over as best he could away from Ratchet on the berth - which wasn't a lot, Ratchet noted - and patted a large part of empty berth near his waist. "Sit down, will ya, Ratch'? Ya look so fraggin' tired. And ah won't take no fer an answer; I won't recharge 'nless you sit down fer a bit, 'kay?"
"'M not exhausted," muttered the medic, however sitting down at the moment did seem like a good idea; his legs felt wobbly, and he didn't know if he could it make around to the chair on the opposite side of the berth, let alone his office. The CMO tried not to stumble as walked over to the berth and carefully sat on it, however made it his business not to sit too close to Ironhide; having to grip the sides so that he would not fall off. "'Sides, someone has to watch over your aft; obviously you can't take care of yourself even in battle."
"Now you know I couldn't let Prime get shot," Ironhide soothed, lying back down on the berth as he elbow joints began to slowly shake and give way due to his own tiredness; however a servo remained near Ratchet's, as if scared that the medic would fall off if he weren't careful. Which he probably would, no doubt. "'Sides, ah knew that yew wouldn't lemme offline, right?" As Ratchet peeked to the mech's face, there was a gentle smile on it that Ratchet couldn't help but return; one that was reassurance enough for Ironhide. "That's what ah thought," said Ironhide hoarsely, leaning up a little, to pat his friend's servo.
Friends. That word stalled in Ratchet's processor when it came across it; nothing but friends they would ever be, right? The CMO could feel a few files pop up due to the feelings that flooded through him, yet he did his best to put them aside, and perhaps read them when he had enough time to recharge and had some time alone. Plus, didn't Ironhide basically break up with his ex-bonded not but nine human months ago? Something in the medic's processor told him that perhaps the gruff mech that he now sat beside wasn't ready for anything like that.
Noticing the expression on the medic's face, one that showed fear, sadness, and a hint of worry, Ironhide asked, "Rach', you a'light? Maybe yew shoul' go n' get sume rest, eh?" After a moment, Ratchet shook his helm before trying to speak.
"'Hide, can I ask you something?" the medic asked honestly, tilting his helm to one side as if pondering something.
"Shoot," Ironhide shrugged feebly; the medic cringed slightly at the word, but still proceeded to talk.
"Did you…. Did you mean to take that shot because of something other than trying to protect Prime?" Ratchet asked. A look of confusion washed over Ironhide's face when the question was asked.
"Huh?" he asked simply, as if any other amount of words he would be unable to speak due to his condition. Which Ratchet would call him on later when he was better, none the less; Ratch' was the medic like that.
"Well, I know you broke up with Chromia a long time ago and I didn't know if you'd be-"
"Why th' frag would'ya think sumethin' like tha', Ratch'?" Ironhide cut off in an angered and raised tone, halfly sitting up the best he could. "Why would ah be as stupid as that, huh? I could've done sumethin' as stupid as that, bu' ya know be better, right Ratch'?"
"Sorry I asked," muttered Ratchet as he looked away, slightly hurt by the words Ironhide had spoken. There was a sigh as Ironhide shifted on the bed, scooting his torso at an angle so he was closer to the medic. A servo gently touched his own, trying to show an apology.
"'M sorry, Ratch', but you know me better," apologized Ironhide, not moving his servo away from the medics even as is twitched underneath his; Ratchet's spark did a back flip in his chassis, however he did his best to ignore it. All the CMO would do was nod in agreement; most mechs onboard the Ark about how the two were almost brothers. "Then wha' made ya asked ah question like tha'?" Ironhide pressed on further.
"Guess I'm just tired," he could only shrug, however it was only partly a lie; he was tired, yet he knew better than to believe that his tiredness was the reason that he asked the question. He could remember when Ironhide had came to him after admitting that he and Chromia had been broken up for a couple of weeks and spoke to him about it. Sure, it was mostly about Bumblebee, but he still talked to him about it.
"Tha's not all, is it?" asked Ironhide; what was he, a psychic? "Ya know I'll listen, right? Ya just can't get angry at me falling asleep on ya, a'light?" Ratchet smiled at the comment, looking back up to Ironhide slightly.
"Didn't know I wasn't the only shrink," Ratchet replied in a jokeful tone. "But… you probably wouldn't be interested in what I have to say. Besides, you need to rest, alright?"
"Pffft, please!" laughed the weapons, however the laugh ended in a slight cough. "You know I ain't gonna give up on tryin' t' ask ya, right? 'Sides, ah told ya ah'd fall asleep if you started talkin' an' ya know ah will. It'll help." Ratchet sighed, a small smile growing on his lips. "Now why don't 'cha tell me what's a' matter, huh? Ya know ya tell me anythin', right?" Ratchet merely shook his helm at that statement.
"I don't even think you know the half of it, 'Hide," Ratchet said.
"Try me," said Ironhide strongly; Ratchet quickly giving up because he knew that trying to would simply be a waste of time.
"So, I have this….. Erm, friend," the medic started slowly, the mere sound of the sentence making 'Hide smirk slightly.
"Yeah?" asked Ironhide, urging Ratchet to go on with his little scenario; the medic wondering if Ironhide knew which "friend" he was talking about.
"And he's in love - or at least likes a lot - one of his best friends that he's known for a really long time, right?" Ironhide nodded, however did not say anything in response. "And his best friend, he just broke a bond recently - well not recently, but you know, soon enough. But anyways, he just broke this bond, you see, and my friend doesn't want to…. Ruin anything in their current relationship. because he thinks that maybe it's too soon for his friend to get into a relationship."
"And 'ow you know that?" asked Ironhide, shifting on the med berth. "'Ah mean, if yer friend there never asked his bud, then how's he know that his friend ain't ready?"
"Well," Ratchet trailed off, looking down to his legs as he twiddled his servos in between them nervously. "My, erm, friend doesn't know if his friend likes him the say way he's liked his friend." Now that even sounded confusing to him. Well, it made sense, but it was still confusing. It seemed to make sense to Ironhide as well, seeing as how he was nodding his helm with a thoughtful look in his eyes.
"And can I know who this friend of yours is?" he finally asked curiously, moving slightly on the berth to try and see his friend's optics; failing as Ratchet looked away.
And Ratchet knew that it would be hard to lie on this one, or make up anyone's designations. Wheeljack was one of his best friends, being almost like a brother to him more than anyone on the Ark, and the inventor already had a bonded; Perceptor. Optimus? He was too busy working his aft off as the leader to even try and have a love life. Prowl? Already bonded. FirstAid? He was already "dating" Mirage, so that was out. There was no one else he could really think of to fit that hole in the story; he probably should have thought this scenario through. After a few moments of looking to the far wall, Ratchet thought that perhaps Ironhide had finally fallen into recharge, and that he had gotten out of trying to explain anything, however he was quite wrong.
"What? Can't tell me?" Ironhide laughed lightly. "Ya havin' some kind've promise you been needin' t' keep?" When Ratchet didn't response, Ironhide's playful expression fell, and instantly he sat a servo back on the other mech's thigh. "Ratch'? Ya alright? C'mon, if I said somethin' stupid, ya know ya can tell me, right?" Finally, bravely, Ratchet looked the other mech in the optics, his helm slightly hidden between his shoulder blades.
"Well, it's not exactly that," muttered the medic, thoughts flooding his through his processor of how to get himself out of this one if Ironhide decided to try and state anything or get anything more out of him. After a moment of studying his friend's face, keeping his optics on it, Ironhide raised an optical ridge, relaxing him helm a bit.
"This friend, they really aren't your friend, are they?" asked Ironhide cautiously, a smirk on his lips. Slowly, tiredly, Ratchet shook his helm. Both mechs stayed as they did for several long moments as Ironhide studied his friend's face, thinking hard. "Y-yer talkin' 'bout you bein' tha' friend, right?" asked Ironhide curiously, tilting his helm to one side as best he could on the berth. Again Ratchet nodded his helm.
During a long moment of silence, Ironhide never left Ratchet's tired gaze, as it seemed he was thinking this over. Then after looking down at the berth for a moment, Ironhide looked back up at the medic, a shocked expression on his face that made Ratchet flinch. Ironhide was Ratchet's best friend, the black mech seemed to realize; if Ratchet was speaking about himself in that story, then that meant that the best friend in the story that he had feelings for was….. Him. Ratchet instantly looked away after a moment of Ironhide simply staring at him in shock, feeling terrible that he had even said anything to the injured mech in such a state.
"I'm so sorry, Ironhide," Ratchet apologized in a weak voice, looking to the floor as he began to feel shame flood through him; he expected Ironhide to reject him, or at the nicest simply tell him that they were too close as friends to become anything more. However, that was not what he got from the weapons speaclist.
"Why're ya sorry, Ratch'?" asked Ironhide in an obviously confused voice, trying to shift up onto his elbows with little success and enough trouble; the servo on the mech's thigh warming his plating there if ever so slightly. "Th-there's nothin' wrong with cha', right?"
"You don't get it Ironhide, you -!"
And suddenly, Ratchet was lying on something warm, his lips being pressed up against something else just the same. Ratchet was breathing hard now; Ironhide had found the strength to pull the medic down onto him - at least chassis to chassis - pressing his lips against the other, a servo behind the green mech's helm as if to keep him there. At first, Ratchet had panicked; Ironhide was in a weakened and broken state, and wasn't thinking clearly. Then again, neither was he. But as the seconds passed into minutes, Ratchet realized how much his spark was beating against his chassis at the feeling of his lips pressed against another; he hadn't been with another for so long, and kissing Ironhide like this was simply thrilling. And he was sure that the large mech could feel his spark beating against his chassis, just as he could his; Ironhide's beating just as rapidly.
When the kiss was finally broken, both were panting hard, Ratchet's optics still dimmed with tiredness and a new found lust. Ironhide seemed to be searching for something in the medic's optics from his own dimmed ones, panting just as much. There was a long - and seemingly wanted - silence between the two, neither able to speak from their conditions. Finally, Ironhide let out a sigh, one sounding of content, as his frame relaxed underneath the slightly smaller mech's.
"Wow," was all the weapons speaclist could say as he dropped his helm back onto his pillow, his mouth curving up into a small smile. "That was just…. Wow."
"You know this technically means I could get you for rape, right?" asked Ratchet with a raised optic ridge, a smile playing on his face plates to match that of the other mechs. Ironhide's smile merely enlarged at the statement.
"Who says it was unwanted?" asked Ironhide slyly. Ratchet could only smile back in response; it wasn't like he wasn't hoping for some moment like this. Well, not exactly like this, not imagining that Ironhide would have been hurt the way he had. After another moment of simply staring in something equivalent to bliss, Ratchet sighed.
"So… you…?" Ratchet started slowly, as if unable to get any words out. Yet Ironhide seemed to understand with what little words Ratchet had used.
"It ain't like ah' would go kissin' a mech fer no good reason," replied Ironhide softly, reaching the servo still placed down to cup the medic on the cheek. "Tha', an' I would'a felt bad jus' leavin' ya all alone like that. Did ah' mention tha' yer cute when yer dazed?" That statement earned the injured mech a light and playful thump to the helm, making him merely laugh lightly and weakly at the movement; it seemed that now he was finally getting tired enough to fall asleep. Ratchet merely sighed; did this mean that they were….?
"Ironhide?" asked Ratchet quietly, earning the mech's slowly deteriorating attention as he tried his best to not fall asleep on the medic. "Does… Does this mean that we're… A thing? Because if you're not ready - and I don't think that you are - then you can just -"
"Shh," Ironhide shushed, gently placing weak servos on the back of the medic's helm and gently guiding said helm to his own neck as a resting place for it. "We can talk 'bout this in the morning' 'kay? Fer now, I think any talkin' will ruin the moment. Care t' stay 'ere t'night?"
Ironhide was right; it was late, he was tired, and 'Hide was injured and probably more tired than he was. Plus, he was in a pretty comfortable position at the moment, laying on the larger mech with warmth emanating from him. Shifting into a more comfortable position on the mech, Ratchet muttered something sleepily - it sounded like "G'night" to Ironhide - before off lining his optics, most likely falling asleep quite instantly. Sighing in content, Ironhide relaxed himself as well, feeling bad that he hadn't at least tried to get Ratchet under the blankets with him. But he seemed pretty comfortable at the moment, and he didn't want to ruin a good night's sleep for him. So, off lining his own optics, Ironhide soon followed suit with Ratchet, glad that the throbbing in his spark had settled down while being so close to the medic; and he was also glad that Ratchet had been able to tell the truth about his feelings - with enough push - because truth was the Ironhide himself might have been unable.
