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Now let's get on back to the story shall we?
PART 4
Teletraan 1's optics came online slowly, and the first thing he noticed was both of his optics were working. Then panic set in as he realized he was lying down on a berth once again. The mech jerked upright with a scream, lashing out when hands pressed him back down.
"Let me go! Stop it!" he tried to struggle, going on pure instinct.
"Teletraan calm down, it's just me, Ratchet!" a familiar voice shouted at him, making him immediately cease his attempt to escape.
The orange and bronze mech blinked slowly, his golden gaze at last focusing on the medic holding him down. Recognition slowly clicked, and he relaxed.
"Ratchet," he looked around the med-bay, taking it in for the first time from a physical perspective. It all seemed so much larger now.
"That's a good mech, we're all on your side here," Ratchet reassured the bot, and pat his shoulder.
Teletraan 1 jerked at the pat, shuddering as memories of pain being produced by contact resurfaced. He watched Ratchet quickly pull his hand back, holding it up innocently.
"That didn't hurt you did it?"
The question called for the automatic answer of yes, but Teletraan 1 held his glossa, contemplating the answer a moment. Had it actually hurt him? He stared down at his shoulder, but blinked, seeing no trace damage. His gaze swung down to the rest of his bare frame, absorbing the face that fresh welds decorated his body, and an energon line was being fed into his arm. But surprisingly, nothing hurt beyond a dull ache.
"I don't understand," he muttered softly.
"Don't understand what Teletraan?" Ratchet pressed gently, the medic obviously hesitant to try touching the bot again.
Teletraan 1 lifted his gaze, "Why does nothing hurt?"
Ratchet seemed taken aback by the question, and he opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to form an answer. He sighed softly, and offered out his hand to the mech.
"I repaired your frame, nothing is supposed to hurt anymore."
Teletraan 1 focused on Ratchet's palm, and then looked down at his own. Very slowly, he lifted his limb, the sensation of movement foreign to him. Being bound to a berth at the Con base had not allowed him to experiment with his new body. With some effort, the newly built bot managed to raise his hand and touched Ratchet's palm with the tip of his finger. To his relief the action caused no pain, and a faint smile formed.
He shifted his gaze up to meet Ratchet's blue optics, his smile growing just a bit. With pain out of the equation, Teletraan 1 found that the sensation of touch was actually fascinating. He pulled his hand back, changing his focus once more to examine it, flexing his fingers and then rotating his wrist. The dexterity was phenomenal, and only made a feeling of giddiness grow within the mech.
"You look like you're enjoying that," Ratchet commented with a smirk, keeping a close optic on everything Teletraan 1 was doing.
"Enjoyment; I suppose that would be the word for it," Teletraan 1 nodded shortly and lowered his hand once again, "I have not yet had the chance to, enjoy, anything."
He watched Ratchet's expression suddenly skew into one of sympathy, and Teletraan 1 found he couldn't keep his gaze on the medic. He lowered his head a bit, staring down at his frame. Timidly he lifted his hand and trailed his finger over the fresh welds, wincing from the dull ache.
"Careful there, don't want you to hurt yourself," Ratchet gently stopped Teletraan 1's hand, and winced when the mech jerked again.
Teletraan 1 tucked into himself, shying as far from Ratchet's hand as possible. He was slowly beginning to understand that while touch was actually a fascinating sensation, being touched still triggered a reaction in his body to recoil without his consent.
"Um, where are the others? The medical bay is seldom empty, especially after battle," Teletraan 1 quickly changed the subject, having seen other mechs do so before to avoid a topic or problem.
"I cleared it out; figured you'd be more comfortable if there weren't a lot of mechs in here staring at you," Ratchet explained calmly, feeling bad the newly created bot was conditioned to fear physical contact.
Teletraan 1 blinked shortly at that, and then nodded, "Thank you. I appreciate the consideration."
Carefully, he began to shift, moving his legs under his own power for the first time, as well as tested the flexibility of his back as he arched it, before suddenly relaxing. He then refocused on the medic hovering over him.
"Am I allowed to sit up?"
Ratchet paused in consideration, before sighing, "Yeah, you can give it a try. Just go slow, and find your balance."
The bronze mech nodded and carefully propped his elbows against the berth. He frowned, pulling up files on Cybertronian coordination, and playing them in his head, processing their exact movements. Satisfied he understood, he opened up his palms, and managed to push himself upright, feeling cables flex and adjust not only within his arms, but his torso and back.
"Huh," he cycled out a soft breath as he succeeded in sitting, looking around with his new perspective. It was different from anything he'd ever experienced.
"You all right there Teletraan?" Ratchet watched him nervously, fearing his patient could collapse on him at any moment.
The mech nodded, a small hint of a smile trying to surface on his faceplate, "Yes, I am. In fact, this is fascinating; depth and perception are constantly being compensated for without any conscious effort, it's flawless."
Ratchet smiled at that, chuckling softly, "Guess that's something we bots take for granted eh?"
"Yes, if you have experienced no different, I suppose it would be logical you would. Hmm, but you can't calculate volume with only a glance, what a shame," Teletraan 1 frowned a moment, trying to get used to his new limitations and abilities. It would surely take some time.
"Some of us can give pretty good guesses, like Perceptor for instance," Ratchet walked around him, scanning him over, "How do you feel?"
Teletraan 1 leaned back on his hands, contemplating his answer before he discovered he could run an internal diagnostic just like he could in his old 'body'.
"I am fully functional, if my readings are accurate."
To his surprise, Ratchet did not look satisfied with his answer. He ran his diagnostics again, fearing he'd missed something. He got the same readings as before; everything was working as it should.
"Am I missing something?" Teletraan 1 inquired, being very literal about his question.
Ratchet blinked at him, pausing before he answered, "Technically you still need armor, which Wheeljack is working on as we speak. But I meant how do you feel in here," he tapped on his helm and then his spark, "not physically."
"Oh," Teletraan 1 deflated, trying to understand what Ratchet meant. He had to mean how he felt emotionally, he could think of nothing else.
"I feel," he hesitated, "Overwhelmed. These emotions are not something I'm used to dealing with. They trigger different lines of thought, and stray from logic. It's, strange."
Ratchet nodded slowly, seeming to accept that answer, "Well, that'd be normal for us mechs, except maybe Prowl," the medic managed a smirk, "But he's not normal."
Teletraan 1 blinked shortly at that, before a smile quirked at his thin lips, a new emotion flooding through him, something he could relate with fascination, only much more intense and enjoyable.
"Guess that is kinda funny huh?" Ratchet scanned over some of the equipment monitoring the bot's vitals, nodding in approval that everything was stable.
"Funny," Teletraan 1's optics widened ever so slightly, "so that is how it feels…humor feels good. Sideswipe's pranks make far more sense now."
Ratchet stared at the mech for a moment, hardly able to believe the things that were coming out of his mouth. When he'd first received Teletraan 1's battered body, Ratchet had feared the worst, and was sure the mech would contain deep scars in his psyche and express much more fear and caution than this. But if anything, Teletraan 1 was proving to have a healthy quantity of curiosity as well as possessing far more insight about the crew of the Ark on a personal level Ratchet hadn't expected. But then again, he was the Ark's super computer. The mech had seen it all and more.
"Sideswipe's pranks are over the top and downright dangerous at times. There's better ways to get a good laugh," Ratchet grumbled softly, not liking the idea of their ship's main computer condoning the prankster's actions.
"Agreed," Teletraan 1 nodded shortly, surprising the medic once again, "his continuous tampering with my systems was highly uncalled for."
Annoyance flickered through the newly constructed mech, an emotion he recognized because he'd almost possessed it as an emotionless computer. Almost.
"Often I had to sacrifice processing power to correct the damage that red menace had done… Although I was not always fast enough to prevent Red Alert from having a breakdown. Rather unfortunate as I liked his additional help in monitoring the activities of the crew."
Ratchet was utterly speechless, something that did not often happen. The entire crew had always written Teletraan 1 off as a mere computer, without any form of sentience or concept of camaraderie. Ratchet was very rapidly coming to terms with the fact they had been horribly wrong. But Teletraan 1 was never meant to have such higher functions such as preferences; something had happened to the computer while it had still been a part of the Ark, something that Ratchet was now determined to uncover.
"Any mech that dislikes the prankster is ok in my book," Ratchet simply stated, keeping his revelation to himself. He'd have to discuss this with the other officers later.
"That is rather biased of you," the orange and bronze mech assessed, "But I appreciate the sentiment."
Ratchet snorted softly and shook his head, another flicker of a smile playing on his lips, "You talk just like Prowl ya know that?"
"We both gain understanding of situations through logic, it is hardly coincidence that we analyze in a similar fashion. Although," Teletraan 1 faltered a moment, "this physical form makes rationalizing difficult. I do not like these negative emotions, they're burdensome."
Ratchet instinctively made to give the mech a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, though at the last moment stopped himself. Teletraan 1 was still fearful of being touched, so the medic instead let his hand fall back to his side.
"I'm sorry, we're trying to figure out how to fix all this as we speak."
Sighing softly, and unaccustomed to the relief it brought, Teletraan 1 found himself simply lying back down on the berth, fatigue pressing him to do so, "Thank you. Your efforts are much appreciated."
Ratchet simply nodded, "Get some rest Teletraan, you've earned it."
Teletraan 1 was out before Ratchet had even finished speaking, powering down into a deep recharge. He didn't even twitch as Ratchet hooked his system up to another monitor, just incase.