A/N: Anyone noticed the improved grammars? :D I thank iratepirate for beta-ing this chapter! Smooch-es for you! :^

Dawn had reached Cybertron, and life prospered again in Iacon. Lights on streets and buildings were turned on, the city a bright golden dome rivaling the sun itself. The recharging cycle had ended. Mechs and autos were running about, bound by each duty to reach their destination on time.

Soundwave had been part of the chaos, running just behind the Senator's heels with papers and datapads larger than himself. Solar cycles had passed, or maybe decacycles, Soundwave had grown tired of counting, since that horrifying loud boom arrived and brought the most disturbing ringing in his audios.

Blackness had prevailed since then, the kind of darkness he saw only when sleep overcame his consciousness. No days, no lights. The youngling missed the lights, the bright rays which struck through his optics when Matron opened the curtains of the windows and peeled back the blankets under which he took cover. It seemed like his rewinding cycle would never end, like being on holidays, Soundwave thought gleefully.

Heavy were his arms, he could barely lift the tips of his fingers. However, Ravage was still within his grip, lazy as always. The black robo-kitty had talents in mimicking the dead. Or maybe he was truly dead? Anxiously Soundwave moved his fingers, trying to tickle the cat awake.

Telepathically he probed at the cat, searching for any stray thoughts. Panic seeped into his mind, finding nothing inside the cat's head. There was nothing in that dark universe except Ravage, he couldn't lose him!

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"I swear I saw him!" A pink nursebot exclaimed to another nurse, who put a frown on her forehead.

"Are you sure you weren't over energized last cycle?" her green and white friend asked, "Your face seemed a little beet-like to me."

"No, I was completely functional that night! A bit terrified, but operational!" the witness frantically replied, speaking faster with each word. "He walked towards me, shoving a cat doll in my face, begging me to save it!" Her friend resumed working. "I'm honest!" she shrieked, exasperated.

"You, my friend, are officially overworked." The frantic witness' friend gave a sigh and ripped a piece of paper from her note, giving it to the ghost witness. The pink one gave her a look with watery optics. The green one, the more logical one, turned away, "Just do me a favor and give me my needed work space. Why don't you go give Doctor Ratchet a visit?"

"You claimed to be a friend!" the eye witness shrieked again. "But you sent me to the hatchet and waved a white hanky happily in my face! What's got into you?"

"I just want the best for both of us," the other shrugged. Giving up, the pink lady decided that the visit would worth her time. Maybe her optics truly were malfunctioning.

There was no need to explain the surprise Ratchet had when one of the nurses came to check her optics. "Nurse, I saw nothing wrong with your optics." But first things first, if the nurse was unhealthy, it would be best to send her home rather than allow room for an unhealthy mistake. Such blunder could be fatal for patients. "Is something wrong? Did you see something odd?"

"You wouldn't believe it, Doc."

"Oh, please. I've seen more unbelievable things than you have. I bet what you've seen would not..."

"I saw a ghost."

Ratchet stopped his ranting. "A ghost? There's no such... I mean, there have been no reports of... spiritual... sightings, ever. Ever since I moved here, I might add. "

The lady stood up upon hearing his disbelief. "I know I should have been more scientific as a nurse, but, the fact is, I saw him! He talked to me!" Ratchet raised his hand to stop her vicious rant, but she wouldn't buy it. "He shoved a cat plush in my face, with a hand that was transparent! And the kitty he showed me, it was a doll! How (swearing) could I have saved it? I am not an (expletive) vet!"

"Watch your language, Miss, you are speaking to your superior here."

"Well it's never stopped you!" she retorted back shamelessly.

Astroseconds later, the girl came out of her superior's office with a sick note. Ratchet prompted her to have a week of recreation and rest.

Ratchet eased back on his chair, intrigued by the sightings the girl reported. Despite her frantic, almost similar to mental-breakdown shrieks, the kitty doll she mentioned grabbed his attention. There were many patients he knew held such plush, but there was only one mech who exhibited such skill to pull that kind of prank.

Senator Ratbat had been a star in newscast lately, being sued for attacking a fellow higher-up. His charge must have missed him and the promised gift, apparently desperate enough to show illusions to anyone nearby, including patients in the surrounding rooms and passers-by in the corridors. He decided to visit that particular kid.

If it was merely a prank, Ratchet would be glad. But if it was a symptom of something worse, he would never forgive himself.

The corridors of the medical facility were crowded, but the ones leading to the telepath's room were awfully void. Obviously the gossip had spread quickly. There was only one little mech in the corridor, standing near Ratchet's destination.

Upon entering the telepath's dominion, a rush of cold washed through the doctor's processor. The white mech stood his ground for seconds, until the little one's dead visor found him. There was no malice to be felt, just disappointment and helplessness. Also hope, when the telepath recognized Ratchet's brainwaves.

The little silhouette approached Ratchet, hopping on one leg all the while before stopping in front of the doctor he trusted. Yes, that little mech was Soundwave. The shadow flickered blue when it talked.

"Ravage is unmoving," the emotionless voice pleaded, thrusting his only arm at the doctor's face, a cat plush drooping limply between the fingers. "I-I can't feel him. He's not dead, right?"

The illusion felt so real to Ratchet's optics. If the replica didn't flicker every second, he could have mistaken that hologram as the real thing. Telepathic hands brushed again on his processor, impatient for truth. Further assault and Soundwave would have breached his memory banks; the boy seriously needed to be kept in line.

With a firm reprimand, the boy obeyed. "You are invading my privacy, Soundwave."

Like smoke before a rotating fan, the cold hands escaped his head, and the corridor was empty again; so empty and silent Ratchet could hear his own engines whirring. Soundwave's grotesque little ghost prevailed no more; he heeded the doctor's message seriously. Ratchet continued his walk towards the kid's chamber.

"I don't appreciate ghosts disturbing my other patients," Ratchet said upon entering. The kid jerked slightly in surprise. Clearly it had been hours since he had had visitors, and much longer since he had dialogues. No wonder the corridor was so cold. Soundwave shared the solitude he felt through his projections.

"I'm sorry, Ratchet."

"And your ghost is terrifying, too," the medic continued, earning a single chortle and pained gasp from the boy. "I almost lubricated myself. Where is Ravage?"

"Here, in my hand. He hasn't moved an inch, not responding to my calls," Soundwave worriedly explained while Ratchet picked up the cat and examined it. The doctor played along, putting a stethoscope on the plush before putting the cat back in his owner's hand.

"There, he's all fixed."

Little fingers tightened around the black kitten, the delusional telepath impressed by Ratchet's magic. And blind as he literally was, Soundwave accepted the white lie.

Curse the Senator and his 'fashionable lateness'! Not for an astrosecond did Ratchet enjoy playing fool with Soundwave. The medic appreciated the kid's company of course, but he hated having to lie. And he hated it even more when Soundwave expressed his trust. No telepathic probes inside his mind, no disbelieving looks, no further questions, no nothing! He had complete trust in the medic.

"Has Senator Ratbat returned?" The frequently-asked question that the youngling favored popped. He missed his creator.

"He... currently, he's catching up on some business. But he will return soon, with the gift he had promised."

"Gift: unnecessary, Ravage alone is enough."

Ratchet frowned upon hearing his attachment to the imaginary friend he had. Already?

"Kid," Ratchet answered, brushing his large hand against the boy's repaired helm. "I've heard other boys say the same thing, yet they still appreciated the gifts more than their parents."

"I miss my creator."

Ratchet sighed inwardly upon hearing his immediate answer. "Just hope that he'll return in the near future, lad."

Removing his hand from the boy's head, Ratchet turned to leave. But the boy stopped him.

"Request: companion needed."

Soundwave was the only surviving youngling in the explosion. Actually, there were countless 'get-well' letters coming from across Iacon; the fact lured the public's eyes, and they showed astounding sympathy by sending letters, books, cards... There was no need to look for a companion; he already had so many around the city. His blind optics just couldn't detect them well enough.

"Actually, you've got letters, Soundwave. Do you want me to read them?" Ratchet asked, taking one of the letters from the pile.

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