So I'm pretty sad cuz not one person reviewed, faved or story alerted the first chapter. I know people read it or a least looked at it. It makes sad because this story is kinda becoming my favorite. Was it really that bad? Well, even if you guys don't like it, I plan to continue updating this. I wanted to make a romantic story and this will be it.

It would be nice to see people be a little interested in it.

Anyways, enjoy

Chapter Two: Parenthood

"You can't be serious!?" Wheeljack exclaimed. He stared in shock at the little baby that his friend brought back with him. Yes, it was kinda cute, but how was Ratchet supposed to care for it? It was a baby and an organic baby at that.

Ratchet leveled a dangerous glare at him and strode passed him to his berthroom. He placed Reshiram on his berth and preceded to unsubspace the required items Techron told him to get and set them up. A small round plush bed and a soft blanket was set at the head of his berth so he could keep watch over her. Soft toys were placed in a corner for her to play with when she was awake. He also had a bottle similar to a sparkling sipper. Techron had made up a special powder specifically for dragons and told him to fill the bottle half full with hot water and mix a quarter amount of the powder with it. He was to give it to her three times an orn till she became a youngling, then she would eat different substances. Ratchet was amazed at the variety organics had, from dead bodies of other organics to vegetation and even those had a large diversity. Techron told him that he would supply him with a list of things she could and couldn't eat when the time came.

There was also a waste dispenser. Organics did not have tanks to flush and so released whatever their bodies did not need as urine and fecal. It was nasty to take care of but Techron assured him that once she was older she could deal with such things herself. Ratchet only needed to show her. It wasn't really different then teaching a sparkling. She was also to be washed daily with water and a special cleanser.

He was finding that Reshiram's care was quite a servo full but he had never been known to back down from his tasks. He was much too hard helmed to.

Ratchet hadn't notice that Wheeljack followed him in till he was complete with his setup. By then the curious engineer had approached Reshiram to get a better look at her. She twittered at him in alarm when he went to pet her and tried to move away. She was not steady enough for such movements and so only ended up on her backside.

That was when the pitiful crying stared, liquid pooling in her eye as she screeched. Ratchet was quick to shoo his roommate aside and picked up the distressed newborn. He crooned to her and rocked her gently as he had seen carriers do.

Wheeljack couldn't help but be stunned by the parental instinct Ratchet displaced. Such tenderness was rarely ever seen in the ill-tempered medic. But it did bring a smile to his face. Maybe, having the little bugger wouldn't be too bad if she could make Ratchet into a cooing puddle of mech. He might even be more tolerant.

Wheeljack couldn't have been more wrong.

Reshiram grew about as fast as other sparklings. As she did, white pins and fluff started to grow from her body. Techron had seemed as surprised as Ratchet saying they were supposed to be covered in what was called scales. He did a thorough examination and concluded that she was a different species of dragon then the previous two and that it explained why she was warm blooded instead of cold. He said later when Reshiram started to fill out that a heat sack was growing in her chest and that she would soon start to breathe fire. He said that both of the other dragons had inborn abilities as well. Sayla had been able to breathe ice, and the other, a draco who was named Renderbend, could shoot water.

Ratchet was apprehensive about her breathing fire, especially with Wheeljack's experiments. Techron explained again that all he had to do was teach her and she would understand.

And he had been right. When she was fully feathered and furred, that was when she started blowing fire. First it started with a few sneezes of red sparks and smoke and once she understood what it was, she blew as much as she could in excitement. It was hotter than anything he had ever felt before. When a stay stream of orangey red flames caught his arm, it had melted the armor like acid. It had burnt through his arm and severed it from his upper arm down.

From then on, Reshiram never blew fire again. She didn't even need to be told not to. She was so upset and worried, clinging to his thigh tightly with her tiny arms and clicking franticly her apologies and that she didn't want him to die. It took a while to calm her and she promised she would never use her fire again. He told her she didn't need to stop but to be more careful. She never did though although he could tell she longed to. Her fire was in her nature.

When she got older she asked to learn Ratchet's trade. She wanted to be a medic like him. It had probably been the proudest moment in Ratchet's life. The look of determination in her eyes made his spark swell with pride.

He taught her everything he knew. She learned to do basic checkups and even surgery. Her little claws could get where his hands couldn't. She asked questions when she didn't know something and was thorough in everything she did. She could name off every bit of cybertronian anatomy and how to fix it. She studied hard and never gave up even when she made a mistake. She always learned from it.

Though the patients had at first been hesitant in letting an organic treat them, she proved herself to them and soon the mechs and femmes who came in always greeted her with a smile. Sparklings and younglings would hover around her, touching her feathers and fur, aweing over her wings when she spread them and oohing when she would turn the lights off and lite the room with just the torch on her tail. They started to call her Rem or Remmy and Reshiram has been so delighted. Even Ratchet and Wheeljack had taken to calling her that. It always brought a smile to her face.

When she finally learned to fly, she took it upon herself to gather supplies when needed, ferry datapads, medicine and equipment from one clinic to the other. She enjoyed it so much.

The only thing that seemed to being her down was the disgusted and cruel looks most of the other cybertronians would give her. They didn't take the time to get to know her before they judged. They didn't see her as an individual but as a creature to be locked away. It infuriated Ratchet to no end, to see her return home slumped and saddened and close to tears. She would run into his arms and ask over and over again what was wrong was her, why didn't they like her.

And Ratchet always told her the truth. She was an organic, considered below everyone else. She was supposed to be either a pet or servant or even entertainment.

She would always look up at him, her sorrow breaking his spark. Because she understood, she was different and she would always be that way.

Nothing would change that.

Reshiram was in good cheer when she left the house. Today she was asked to help another clinic. There were only a few that accepted her, and even then some of the patients were skeptical about her working on them and most would leave. They were not like the mechs and femmes that came to her Kalu's clinic, where what you were really didn't matter as long as they got fixed for a reasonable price. The cybertronians of the lower class didn't have much of a problem with her.

But she would be going to Patch's clinic. He was a good friend of Ratchet's and was also involved in helping to teach her about medicine. He too worked in the lower part of Cybertron, helping those who couldn't afford much.

Coming to a corner, she had to stop when a group of femmes spotted her. They looked at each other before one of them broke from the others and approached her. She was dark purple and green with beautiful curves and golden eyes. She was a noble. Reshiram knew that because Techron had told her all tower mechs had gold eyes. It was one of the things that made them different from what they considered scum other than their credits, and Primus did they have a lot of those.

Reshiram cautiously watched as the femme came closer. Her friends made a makeshift blockade and she could easily see were this was going.

When Reshiram started to venture out further into the city on her own, she became some kind of game to the others. They would whisper loud enough for her to hear when she passed by or yell out to her names and cruel words. Sometimes the braver of the bunch would poke at her or grab her, tell their friends how squishy she was. They were never gentle and so she usually came out of it with sore spots. Once she had her arm broken and it took everything in her and Wheeljack's power to keep Ratchet from dismantling them. They never tried to kill her though. They seemed content to bully and rough her up.

So the intent look on this femme's faceplates made her a little terrified. Reshiram didn't remember ever meeting her. She didn't have a lot of run-ins with tower mechs as she rarely ever went to higher Iacon and when she did it was usually with Sire to see his friend Orion Pax or pick up food and other supplies for her and the nobles hardly ever came down here. There was no need to.

She decided to speak up, "Uh, is there something I can help you with?" she asked. The femme giggled when she stopped in front of her and tapped the side of her neck making her flinch.

"Oh you poor thing, out here all alone. Didn't your master ever think to get you a collar? Others will think a pretty creature like you fair game if you aren't tagged." She said, running a critical optic over her. So that's what this was about. It wasn't the first time someone wanted to take her home with them. She may have been an organic, but she was pretty and that's what bots wanted, something nice to look at and show off.

"Don't worry though I'll take care of you. We'll get you a nice jeweled collar and you'll get good food. I'll even get you a fluffy bed for you to sleep on." She said as if it would entice her into going with her. This femme had another thing coming if she thought she was that gullible.

"I am sorry to disappoint you," Reshiram said, making her voice as brave as possible, "but I have no collar because I am not a pet and I am not a servant either. Now if you will excuse me, I have somewhere to be." She spoke as politely as possible to avoid angering the noble. She wanted to leave peacefully and head to her duties.

The femme seemed to have other plans. "I don't think you understand, I wasn't asking you. As an organic I have every right to claim you if you have no collar." She declared and seized her upper arm. Her grip was strong for a femme but she was nowhere near as strong as Reshiram. She could have easily defended herself, but to harm a cybertronian would only end with major trouble. She was an organic and to attack a bot would result in death.

The others grabbed her other arm and wings making her cry out. Her wings were sensitive and their roughness hurt. She tried to pull free without hurting anyone but it was futile as she could not put a decent amount of strength into the action. She yelped when her left wing was squeezed painfully and she heard a distinct crack. She had to reign in the instinct to bite and claw at them, to protect herself with fire.

They finally were able to push her down and a long chain appeared in one of their hands. She tried to scramble away but two of them held on tightly to her wings to insure she didn't move.

"What the slag is going on out here!" a deep voice demanded. The femmes stopped what they were doing to see where the silky command had come from. Their optics widened when they spotted a golden mech with accents of black. He was tall and imposing. A look of annoyance graced his faceplates and he gave each one a potent glare. He was the most beautiful thing Reshiram had ever seen, radiating power and gracefulness that drew her in.

The femmes obviously thought along the same line as they turned their attention to the surly mech. The one who wanted to take Reshiram home blushed brightly and clasped her servos in front of her.

"Hi, my designation is Dreamcatcher." She said sweetly. The mech snorted and pushed her out if the way.

"I could really care less. Unless you wish to be thrown in a trash dispenser I suggest you leave, NOW!" he barked when they decided to linger. They jumped and scattered, not wishing to press him. Only Dreamcatcher stayed, but it was only to yank Reshiram to her feet. With only one bot she was able to free herself without causing harm and back away. Dreamcatcher seemed to debate whether to continue trying to force her or leave. She glanced at the mech only to see that he appeared to be ready to grab her and make good on his threat. With alarm clear on her faceplates she turned and left quickly.

Reshiram watched her go with relief. That had been quite a close call and now she felt sore and exhausted. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in her Kalu's lap and take a nice long nap. Her feathered wings drooped, no longer having the energy to hold them up and the left one was in agony and shooting pain through the entire appendage. The cloud like protrusions flowing from the back of her head wilted and her shoulders slumped.

Without even looking at the mech who had helped her, she took off back the way she came. She would ask Kalu to comm Patch and tell him she couldn't make it. He would understand.

She ran fast enough to pass mechs that would have stopped to harass her. She didn't what to deal with them. She had had enough for one orn.

Skirting to a halt at the front door, she punched in the code to open the door and bolted inside. She was panting heavily when she stopped in the middle of the livingroom. Sensing that her Kalu was busy, she sank to floor on her belly and let the tears she had been holding in to fall. It hurt, to be so hated just because she was different, not a cybertronian. Sure, the patients at Kalu's clinic liked her well enough, but sometimes she had to wonder, did they truly like her, or did they tolerate her because they got a good price to be repaired. Reshiram could never tell and she didn't bother to ask. She entertained the sparklings and did her duties as a medic and that was it.

Reshiram watched the far off sun start to set waiting for Ratchet to return. It was only a few breems before she heard the front door hiss open and sounds of heavy pedes on the ground. She lifted her head from her front legs and saw him walk into the room.

When Ratchet spotted Reshiram lying miserably on the floor and not at Patch's clinic, the first thing that went through his processor was that she had been badgered again by the locals. He did a quick scan of her body and found fresh bruises, a result of blood vessels being broken under the skin and a break in her wing. His cooling fans kicked in, his systems heating from anger and he promptly gathered the tools to patch her up.

It was a fairly quick procedure for Ratchet, having become quite good in caring for organics. This was the first time someone had broken Reshiram's wing though. He had to look away when he saw her horrified look as began to clip the feathers from her wing. Once the spot was only skin, he started to fit the bones back together.

"Who did this to you?" He whispered as he worked. He was almost done and only needed to close the skin. Reshiram whimpered and nosed his jaw. She placed her head on his shoulder, careful not to move her wing as he worked.

"A noble femme," she replied, "She wanted to take me home with her, said she had a right to because I didn't have a collar." She flinched as Ratchet finished and bound the repaired wing to her side.

"How did you get away?" he asked, going into the kitchen to fix her food. Reshiram's food was always more complicated to prepare as it didn't simply come from a dispenser. She had three meals a day instead of two and had to eat different foods to keep her healthy and fit. Ratchet didn't mind though. He enjoyed doing things for her and learning to make her meals had been quite interesting. There was always something new to make. Reshiram sometimes made her own food, when he was too busy in the clinic, but he found making it for her was much more satisfying, especially when her face would light up when he made something good.

"Oh, a mech kinda helped me." She said, jumping up onto the stool at the table. She made sure to sit in a way that didn't brush her wing.

"What do you mean kinda?"

"Well, I guess we were in front of his house and he got mad. He said something about throwing us in a trash dispenser which made the femmes scatter like glitchmice. Had I not been so upset I would have found it funny." She replied.

"Well, if the slagger did throw you in a trash dispenser, I would have dismantled him, whether you like it or not." Ratchet added to his threat when he saw Reshiram's disapproving glare.

She huffed and folded her arms, the smell of good food wafting to her nose. Kalu always took the time to make her yummy things. "I don't think he really meant to do it to me. I'm pretty sure I stood there for a while after they left and he didn't say a thing." She gasped when she remembered something. "Oh dear, I didn't even thank him! It may have not been his intention to help me but he did, how rude of me." She muttered.

Ratchet shook his head and handed Reshiram her food. "I'm sure in time you'll see him again and then you can give him your thanks. Really, you shouldn't worry so much about small things like that."

She swatted his arm when he placed her dinner on the table. "Just because you don't like having manners Kalu doesn't mean I shouldn't. Someone has to be polite when you aren't."

"I guess I'm lucky you're here so you can sprout happiness to everyone when I don't." he teased, watching the flush show through her face fur in embarrassment. She growled before proceeding to devour her food. That might have been the one thing she would never have manners for. She was a sloppy eater no matter how much she tried. Right now though, he was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose.

Ratchet let a chuckle out and sat down across from her. Reshiram was such a sweetspark with a bright personality, kind and gentle and always willing to help. She never had any ill intentions towards anyone, even when they hurt her. She would forgive them in a sparkbeat.

He just wished others would take the time to see it.

So yeah, I time skipped. I showed the things Ratchet does and what Rem goes through. I'm sure you guys can all guess who the mech was.

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