Well, chapter 2 is up and you'll get to find out exactly what the problem will be :) It's definitely not cannon, but I think it will be a lot of fun to do and I hope you'll enjoy it as well.

And as always, thank you to everyone who reviewed already ^^ Your reviews are like… I don't know, brain food, or something :D

Optimus gunned his engine, kicking up a cloud of dust and loose gravel as he skirted around the main buildings and headed toward the other side of the power plant, all the while remembering the panicked comm he had received from his medical officer, Ratchet.

"Optimus, I need you here now before Ironhide gets himself electrocuted!"

"Ratchet, I'm on my way," he had responded. "Try to maintain control over the situation until I get there."

Ratchet said he was trying, but he also said that Ironhide was not listening to him. Optimus had tried reaching out to Ironhide as well, but the weapons specialist would not answer.

That worried Optimus. It was unusual for Ironhide to completely ignore his comrades. At the very least, the black warrior would usually have some vehement response as to why he should not have to give up the fight. But this time, there was nothing of the sort.

And Optimus knew there was nothing wrong with Ironhide's comm.

"I'll be there in two minutes," he said.

"Make it one…" Ratchet replied.

Then, even one minute seemed a minute too long. Optimus felt the pained signal that Ironhide sent out over the Autobot frequency. He knew that Ironhide had faltered.

And when he queried Ratchet for a status report, the medic had responded with nothing more than a clipped, "Not now."

"All available Autobots and NEST soldiers," Optimus called out over the comm link, getting close to the substation now, "report to Ratchet's location to provide backup now."

Optimus then transformed, the ground beneath his tires becoming too rough and uneven for his large vehicle mode to travel over any longer, and he sprinted toward the broken chain link fence that marked where Ironhide had run into trouble. Optimus could just see that the weapons specialist was doubled over among the various electrical transformers and junction blocks, Ratchet tending to him.

However, before the Prime could actually make it to the fence, something exploded overhead. He ducked instinctively, also powering up his weapon just as he heard the near-deafening sound of a jet engine. He fired at what he now knew to be another Decepticon, but the gray flier was gone in a matter of seconds, leaving only a white vapor trail against the pale blue sky.

Optimus put his weapons away and rushed toward his comrades, seeing the downed power line that had shorted to ground after the Seeker's attack.

The short must have tripped some kind of failsafe, but apparently not before delivering a shock in excess of 500 kilovolts to the two Cybertronians who had happened to be near it. Both were down, but Optimus skidded to a stop at Ratchet's side first since the medic was closer. He checked over the unconscious mech quickly, relieved to find that the CMO was still alive. However, his spark felt weak and it fluttered erratically under Optimus's hand.

Optimus heard Sideswipe arrive on-scene then, the silver mech quickly striding over to where Ironhide lay motionless on the ground. He dropped down beside him, immediately checking his vitals.

"Pulse is strong," Sideswipe reported. "He definitely needs a field patch though."

"Clamp off any damaged lines," Optimus ordered, "then contact Jolt. Tell him that both Ironhide and Ratchet require medevac but our priority is Ratchet."

"I'm on it."

Optimus hated having to prioritize one mech over the other, especially when both were so clearly in need of immediate medical attention, but Ironhide seemed to be slightly more stable at the moment. Ratchet on the other hand was a smaller and lighter mech, meaning that any injurious agent had the potential to do more damage to him than to Ironhide.

The Autobot leader removed his hand from Ratchet's chest. "And Sideswipe?"

His silver hands still working swiftly in Ironhide's abdomen, Sideswipe looked up. "Yeah?"

Optimus paused for a moment, as if deciding whether or not he should continue, and when he finally did, his voice was noticeably hushed.

"Do not speak of this to anyone outside our team."

/* * */

Finally back at NEST headquarters in Diego Garcia, Lennox watched anxiously as Jolt switched between running a diagnostic on the still form of Ratchet and removing another heavy armor panel from the equally still form of Ironhide. It was unnerving to the human soldier, seeing two of his closest comrades—the gruff yet caring Ratchet, and the seemingly invincible Ironhide—appear so utterly lifeless.

"How are they, Jolt?" Lennox asked, having put off the question until the young medic seemed a little less overwhelmed. When the team had first arrived back at base, everyone was frantic.

Well, not everyone. Optimus had kept his cool, like always, but even he was obviously feeling stressed by the turn of events. The flame-patterned mech had hardly said a word to anyone unless he was giving orders, and that was probably only because it was his duty. He coordinated the Autobot forces, leaving Lennox to direct the humans.

"Well, both are stable," Jolt said in response to Lennox's question, drawing the soldier's attention away from the medical berths and the two patients lying atop them. "Ironhide faired slightly better than Ratchet, even considering that he had a good amount of his abdominal wiring torn out. I suspect that he'll wake up first."

Lennox nodded, letting out a relieved breath that he had not even realized he was holding. "Good. And Ratchet?"

The blue Autobot shifted, running a silver hand over his face. "Ratchet needs advanced life support. His spark almost guttered out twice and there's no guarantee it won't do it again."

Lennox could tell that Jolt was worried—he could hear it in the Autobot's voice. "You've handled it just fine so far, Jolt. I'm sure he's in capable hands."

"I can only manage his symptoms," Jolt replied. "What he really needs is beyond my training. I'm only a Level Two medic."

"That's two levels above the rest of us," Sideswipe interjected, striding in from across the med bay. Lennox nodded a greeting in his direction.

Jolt shook his head, smirking in what the human soldier recognized as silent disagreement in the point Sideswipe was trying to make. "Ratchet is Level Four. He would know how to treat this."

"You can't think of it like that," Sideswipe tried to reassure his comrade. "Just do the best you can. It'll be enough."

At Jolt's pointed and weary look, the silver warrior continued, shrugging his shoulders. "What? How can I be so sure?"

"Something like that," Jolt admitted.

Sideswipe knew that the junior medic was not trying to be negative—he was just overwhelmed. "Look, you stabilized them, right?" he asked.

Jolt huffed lightly. "Of course."

"Then all you have to do is make sure they stay that way. Trust their own systems to handle the rest."

"You make it sound so simple," Jolt retorted, glancing at one of the monitors to check the readouts.

"That's because it is," Sideswipe replied gently.

"Then maybe you should have been a medic." Jolt turned away, walking toward the door. "I need get something in storage. Watch the monitors until I get back."

Having decided to stay out of what looked to be turning into a spat, Lennox waited until Jolt was out of earshot before he turned to Sideswipe. "I didn't know he could be like that."

Sideswipe dismissively waved a hand. "He'll be fine. This is the first time he's had to deal with anything like this." Then the silver mech smiled. "And maybe a little bit of Ratchet is rubbing off on him."

Lennox also smiled at that, remembering just how tightly-wound the Hummer could be. "If that's true, then I don't know whether I should be relieved or worried."

Sideswipe chuckled then. "Probably both. Ratchet is the best, he just has an unusual way of showing that he cares."

"Yeah, he does," Lennox agreed, glancing back at Ratchet and Ironhide. From what he had noted during similar incidents, a sharp and curt Ratchet meant that things were bad, but not that bad—it was when the medic became quiet and serious that one really needed to worry. Perhaps Jolt was the same way.

"Hey Sideswipe," Lennox spoke again, looking at the far wall for no reason in particular, "can I ask you something?"

Sideswipe looked away from the monitors, although he still kept his sensors focused on Ironhide and Ratchet. "Go ahead."

"Do you know why Optimus said not to mention the details of what happened to anyone outside of NEST?" the soldier asked. When he had written his report of the incident, he had simply stated that NBE-3 Ratchet and NBE-5 Ironhide would be on medical leave until further notice due to 'injuries incurred during Decepticon attack'. It was a very vague description compared to what he usually wrote in is reports, and Lennox could only hope that none of the higher-ups would question it.

Sideswipe shifted his weight, sighing heavily and looking rather pensive. "I believe it's because we've never encountered this before. Optimus just needs some time to sort everything out."

Lennox furrowed his brow, remembering dozens of times when one or more Autobots had returned from battle with serious injuries, even Ratchet on occasion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, as you know, Cybertronians are usually very hard to take down. The only effective weapon you humans have is high-heat ammunition."

"Right..." Lennox agreed, starting to piece together where Sideswipe was going with this.

"And up until this point, you have believed us to be basically immune to high voltages. Ratchet's little incident at the Witwicky's is a good example of that."

"Yeah." Lennox paused. "Wait, so you're saying that it actually can harm you? And that even you weren't aware of that before?"

"Yes, that's basically what I'm saying," Sideswipe responded. "A comparatively low voltage, such as what you use to power your dwellings, is merely an irritant. We've never really been exposed to anything significantly higher before."

"And now you know that you don't have defenses against it?"

"Exactly. It brought down Ratchet and Ironhide in no time at all, and if that knowledge gets in the wrong hands, there could be dire consequences. We're not even sure yet exactly what effect it had on them."

Lennox nodded solemnly. "But the Decepticons might already know. There was one there when it happened."

"They might, and they might not. That 'Con didn't exactly stick around, and even if they do know, I have my doubts as to whether or not they would ever share that information. They aren't exactly immune to it either."

"Well, I guess that works in our favor." Lennox scratched his head, turning more toward Sideswipe. "So what do we do now? We just… wait?"

"Yes, we wait. And hope that Ratchet and Ironhide will come out of this okay."

Lennox glanced back at the berths, and the myriad of softly-beeping medical devices that were hooked up to the two frighteningly still Autobots. "Let's hope so."

/* * */

On the interstate. Just off it, actually. On that side road with the traffic lights. They were flashing yellow because it was so late.

That was where he ended up. In the middle of the intersection, of all places.

The police were already there, lights on, securing the scene.

Clear a path. Fire Department.

The black TopKick was flipped on its side, the leaking energon mistaken for diesel fuel.

Ironhide, what the frag did you do?

We've got shattered glass over here, and a few pieces of plastic.

It's fine. Just clear a path.

Semi shredded a tire into my lane. I had to go off the shoulder.

At 65 miles an hour? You should have taken the hit.

Tow truck's on the way. Should be here in 15 minutes.

That would've been a little suspicious, don't you think?

Not as suspicious as you lying here like a fool, waiting for the humans to find you.

It was possible that someone saw the wreck. What else was I supposed to do?

I had to report your plate number as stolen so the police wouldn't question finding you unoccupied. Did you even bother making a holo?

I never needed one. This vehicle is tall enough and I tint the windows if I'm alone.

And where did it get you?

I don't see you using yours.

Lennox and Epps are here. I don't have to.

Optimus coming?

No, he's busy. That means I get the fun of winching you back onto your wheels.

Ooh, fun...

It's not funny, 'Hide! How many times am I going to have to save your aft?

In the end, Ratchet did not know whether it was the obtrusively bright glare of the overhead lights—which he could practically feel, by the way—or the burning fire in his internals that finally broke him out of the dark bliss of stasis, but he did know that his side was absolutely killing him. That must have been where most of current had passed through. Coughing lightly, he tried to roll onto his other side to lessen the pain.

"Easy there, big guy," someone above him said, gently easing him onto his back again. "I have a few more scans to run before you should try getting up. You gave all of us quite a scare."

Ratchet then recognized the voice as that of Jolt, his apprentice and the Autobots' junior medic. There was also someone else speaking in the background, but Ratchet could not tell who it was.

"—notify Optimus. Ironhide's waking up."

Ratchet could not even tell if the voice was human or Autobot, but he did not really care. He had survived, Ironhide had apparently also survived, and that was all that really mattered right then. Everything else was of relatively little importance.

"Jolt," he rasped, shielding his blurry optics from the intense bath of light that seemed to cut into his consciousness like a knife, "where are we?"

"Diego Garcia," Jolt replied. "Do you remember what happened?"

Ratchet drew in a large vent of air before answering, his chest feeling unusually tight and constricting now that enough of his programs had come back online for him to detect such things. "Yeah, I got electrocuted by a fraggin' power line," he replied tersely, although his irritation was not directed at Jolt. "It didn't hurt so slaggin' much the first time."

Ratchet was not usually one to hurl obscenities like it was going out of style, especially not with Jolt around, but right then he just did not feel like filtering his speech.

However, Jolt handled the mild tirade with the practiced ease of a medical professional. "All right. Can you tell me what's bothering you the most right now?"

Ratchet shuttered his optics tightly, focusing on what he was feeling right then. "Left lateral abdominal region, perhaps another three units of painkiller depending on what you've already administered, and the anterior plating of my thoracic cavity."

The senior medic opened his optics to see a slightly baffled Jolt, although why that would be, Ratchet had no idea. Was his sensory data off?

"The painkiller I can do," Jolt said, preparing to give another dose of the neural inhibitor. "However, I didn't detect any significant damage to your thoracic cavity. Can you be more specific about what exactly it is that's bothering you?"

"It feels too heavy would be the best way I could describe it," Ratchet replied, feeling like he could just go back into recharge. "I don't really know. It isn't particularly painful."

Ratchet also noticed that his voice did not sound right for some reason, but then again all of his audio feedback seemed a bit off. Primus knew what that shock might have done to his sensors… Even his optics did not seem able to focus as clearly as they should have.

It was going to be a diagnostic nightmare, Ratchet was sure. But, he was able to correctly determine that the footsteps he heard approaching from the right were actually coming from the right. His scanners indicated that it was Arcee.

Ratchet felt Jolt carefully take hold of his arm, no doubt to inject the painkiller.

"All right. Tiny prick," Jolt said. Ratchet flinched as the needle went in, though he knew it would feel better after. Then Arcee was at his side, offering a hand in case squeezing something would lessen the discomfort.

"You've sure got a knack for getting into trouble, don't you?" Arcee jested.

Ratchet knew she was trying to distract him, and he took her hand to keep himself from shying away from the needle. "Hardly," he bit out between gritted denta. Frag, what gauge needle was Jolt using, anyway?

"That's it..." Jolt murmured. "You're doing great..."

Ratchet gasped when Jolt finally withdrew the needle, Arcee putting her other hand on his shoulder.

"Easy," Jolt soothed him, putting some pressure on his arm. "The worst part is over."

Ratchet panted, surprised at how much energy that had taken from him. He was starting to feel the painkiller though, the thick compound slowly working its way through his lines, and he rested his head back against the berth. "Thank you, Jolt. That already feels a bit better."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it," Jolt replied. "I'll do another scan of your thorax. Is there anything else you'd like me to address at this time?"

"Yeah." Ratchet coughed, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. "Can you tell me how Ironhide is?"

But rather than answering, the junior medic merely stared at him, tilting his head as if confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Ironhide," Ratchet repeated, starting to wonder if he was not the only one who needed his sensors calibrated. "I heard someone say he was waking up. What is his condition?"

Jolt and Arcee shared a glance, both appearing mildly disturbed. Arcee whispered something to Jolt, who nodded in agreement.

Ratchet did not know what to think, but their behavior was starting to make him nervous. "Jolt, what's going on? Did something happen to him?"

"You don't need to worry about anything like that right now," Jolt responded. "We need to do a neurological assessment on you."

"My neural circuits are fine," Ratchet snapped, starting to get upset now. "Tell me what's wrong with Ironhide!"

"Whoa, take it easy," Arcee said, trying to calm him down. "You're going to overstress your systems..."

"Frag my systems!" Ratchet yelled, trying to get up from the berth. He heard Jolt discreetly call for backup, but he did not really care. "I want to know what happened to him!"

"Listen, just calm down—"

"Like the Pit I will!" Ratchet was done listening. If no one would give him any answers, he would find them himself...

"Let him up," Optimus's deep voice traveled across the med bay, the Autobot leader striding over to where Jolt and Arcee had been trying to keep the distressed mech on the berth. "And would someone please explain exactly what the commotion is about?"

It was more of an order than a request, and Optimus's no-nonsense tone did get Ratchet's attention. He stopped fighting, and waited for the larger mech to stop beside the berth.

"Optimus," Jolt spoke first, technically being the one who had been in charge of the situation before the Prime arrived, "I believe Ironhide is experiencing expressive aphasia. He refers to himself in the third-person and this seems to be causing confusion."

Ratchet blinked, only realizing then that the junior medic was referring to him. "Jolt, what are you talking about? I'm not Ironhide!"

All three mechs were staring at him then, only adding to the discomfort that he already felt from the combination of injuries, stress, and fatigue.

"What is your designation?" Optimus finally asked.

"It's Ratchet," he answered, his voice noticeably shaky now. "Optimus, please tell me what's going on..."

Optimus tilted his head, having zeroed-in on one key word—Optimus.

Ratchet referred to him as that. Ironhide, on the other hand, would almost always say Prime.

"Ratchet," Optimus began, sounding sure yet unsure as he reached down to pick up one of Ironhide's armor panels, "there is something you need to see..."

Ratchet accepted the panel hesitantly, not really knowing what he was supposed to be looking for... Then he saw it.

"By the AllSpark..."

The mech looking back at him in the dark reflection was not himself. It was... Ironhide.