Pulling Teeth
Chapter 8
And more hurt and more comfort.
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.
Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.
Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.
Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet
His first flux came almost immediately after Ratchet had begun to recharge. All of his panels had been viciously splayed open and his wires had been torn up out of his body like the stuffing of a scarecrow. And he had been screaming. Begging for mercy and and for the end. But Hook had released him, handed him over to the Twins, his hands ruined beyond any hope of repair. The next thing he'd known he was in the bellows of the Ark, mopping up, of no more use than a service drone.
Ratchet had woken with a small cry and had run his hands over every one of his panels, verifying that he was indeed intact. He made a shaky sound, something not so different than a whimper. Then he growled. Every mech had memory fluxes. Good or bad, they were a part of the basic programming in every mech's spark. Ratchet had had them many times before, many horrible ones after the great battles. But this one was left his spark cold. His sensory wires ached slightly, residual pain that would fade in time. He couldn't shake the cold horror that flooded his systems.
"Idiot," Ratchet grumbled aloud. "Just a flux."
Though he craved a distraction from the flux, Ratchet stubbornly shut his optics again, and went back to his recharge. It didn't last long though. He had another flux each time he shut his optics to rest. After eight hours Ratchet felt even less rested and far more tense than before. But he was not spending one more second on his berth. Instead, he went looking for Optimus. Ratchet knew he'd be off the duty roster but he couldn't stay that way. There was no comfort in his own thoughts. He found Optimus in his office, Ironhide at his side. As good a leader as he was, Optimus could sometimes be blind to what was right in front of him. Ratchet huffed internally. Before he spoke, Ratchet considered how best to convince Prime that he was fit for duty.
"You've only been back a little over two days," Optimus said in bewilderment. When Ratchet had finally asked.. "Give yourself time to rest."
"Unless limbs were being reattached, when have we ever had the luxury of giving a 'Bot more than a couple of days off?" Ratchet argued. "I'm the only medic here, Optimus."
The truth of his words showed on both Optimus' and Ironhide's faces. Optimus shook his head wearily.
"I don't want you anywhere near a battle," Optimus said.
"I won't argue with you there," Ratchet replied.
"Alright," Optimus conceded defeated. "I want you to know I don't like this Ratchet. You've been into the Pit. You deserve a break."
"Trust me Optimus," Ratchet said. "A break is the last thing I need."
Ratchet left, as he did Ironhide put his had on Optimus' shoulder and said: "Wheeljack will keep an eye on him."
"I can take it from here," Wheeljack said looking up from the work bench he and Ratchet had spent the better part of the last few days at. They'd been building spare limbs. It seemed like every time they built up a stockpile, something happened to deplete them. They'd been meaning to work on them the week before but Wheeljack had still been working on that fragging recycling box and then he'd blown himself up. Some of their limbs could not be reproduced, such as Ratchet's hands as they were such specialized equipment, but most of them could. Which was good else, Wheeljack would have been an amputee a few hundred times over.
"I'm fine," Ratchet said. As he had said over and over each day. Wheeljack had been hovering, almost scared of speaking and asking Ratchet every few hours if he needed energon, or rest, or anything. Ratchet's answer each time had been the same. He didn't even join Wheeljack when he took a break to refuel, Ratchet kept a cup of energon with him as he worked and he stayed n the workshop for hours after Wheeljack had gone to recharge for the night. Wheejack watched him constantly with sad optics, and Ratchet had less and less to say to him.
"Ratch," Wheeljack whispered. "You've recharged no more than three hours a night for the last couple of days."
"I'm fine, Jack," Ratchet snapped. Wheeljack flinched. Ratchet felt guilty for it but couldn't help himself. He felt so angry; he didn't know why but he did and Wheeljack was the only one there to attract his ire.
"It's okay Ratch," Wheeljack said. "You can't expect to feel 100% after what happened."
"I said I'm fine!" Ratchet yelled, he literally shuddered with rage. Wheeljack reached out a hand to comfort him, but Ratchet swatted it away. "Go, just leave me alone."
Wheeljack lingered a little longer and Ratchet's mood grew darker, finally, the inventor left. Ratchet buried his face in his hands. He was fine. He was alive. He was home. Everything was fine. He didn't notice that everyone was keeping their distance. If an injury was minor enough, and so far they had all been, they went to FirstAid instead. No one came to the medbay to visit, Optimus didn't seek his counsel. The truth of the matter was Ratchet didn't want the company, he didn't want Wheeljack around. When he was around the others Ratchet realized that something had changed in all of this. Him.
"Hatchet," Sunstreaker said as he and his brother enter the workshop, Wheeljack's workshop that Ratchet had so kindly evicted him from. "Put down your slagging wrench. You're going to recharge now."
"No, I'm not," Ratchet said. His fingers tightened around his wrench and he contemplated throwing it at the slagger's face.
"Pit, yes you are," Sunstreaker said. Sideswipe nodded next to him. Then both 'Bots looked intently at Ratchet.
"Either get walking or we carry you," Sideswipe said.
Ratchet flung his wrench as hard as he could in the direction of Sideswipe's face. The red Lamborghini dodged it easily, then charged Ratchet. He moved far too fast for Ratchet to avoid, and before Ratchet could even move, Sideswipe had thrown him over his shoulder. Sunstreaker grumbled.
'You got to carry him last time," Sideswipe said over the relay.
'Fine,' Sunstreaker replied.
Ratchet shouted and flailed for all he was worth, pounding on Sideswipe's back and kicking wildly. Sideswipe patted him on the back and hummed in a low, soothing tone; Ratchet only fought harder. Sunstreaker opened the door out into the hall way and gestured to Sideswipe.
"Slaggers!" Ratchet swore. "Put me down! Put me down, right now!"
"Later Ratchet," Sideswipe said. "Once we get to our berth."
"Your berth..." Ratchet said, then he screamed. "I am not going to your berth! Put me down or I'll short out your 'face systems."
"We're not taking you there to face with you," Sunstreaker said, looking back over his shoulder. "We're going to make sure you recharge, even if we have to recharge on top of you."
On top of him... Ratchet's face heated up like a torch; what he wouldn't do for a wrench! Sideswipe seemed to rub his back gently and Ratchet hit him as hard as he could. The slagger must have felt the heat, and he was teasing Ratchet! Primus, he would never live it down. Getting heated face plates, at his age, and because of the Twins! If they ever breathed a word of it to anyone, he would kill them. There was no doubt that Sunstreaker knew; Sideswipe would have definitely informed his brother.
They entered the officers' hallway first. Ratchet never stopped yelling. The second door in the wing opened and Ironhide stepped out. He moved to stop the Twins, and both brothers gave him a steady look that made him stop.
"It's for his own good," Sideswipe said. Ironhide frowned, nodded and stepped back.
"Ironhide, you traitor!" Ratchet yelled.
"I can't win," Ironhide said. "To stop'em, I'd have to slag'em both, and then you'd have to repair them, and you still wouldn't get any rest. If I let'em go, you'll be on about it for hours later but at least you'd be rested up."
"Slag you!" Ratchet yelled. The Twins nodded to Primes right-hand Bot and continued on their merry way.
They made there way to their room, the one closest to the brig, passing a few other 'Bots as they went. Being that they were the Twins, and they were carrying Ratchet and he was swearing worse than Ironhide, everyone seemed to think it was best just to let them work it out. Ratchet had never seen their room before. He took the chance to look around, warily, when Sideswipe finally put him down.
It was the same size as all the other private rooms, save for the officer quarters, which were all about twice as large. The room seemed smaller though, most of the space taken up by a double sized berth. He stared defiantly at the berth, even as the sight of it made him wince. The rest would not be worth the fluxes. He wasn't yet drained enough to sleep for even a few hours before he would wake up with Hook's laughter burning in his audios. Both Twins took an arm now, and hauled Ratchet unceremoniously onto their berth. Ratchet fought back immediately, but the Twins pinned him down, each of them wrapping themselves around one of his arms and pulling up close to him.
"We understand, Ratchet," Sideswipe said, watching Ratchet's horrified face. "You're having fluxes. Rough ones, I bet. From our experience, the best way to avoid fluxes is to have another mech there to chase them away."
"That makes no fragging sense," Ratchet said, though he didn't try to deny he had fluxes.
"Sure it does," Sunstreaker said, he pulled his other hand up and rested it over Ratchet's shoulder. "It always feels better to share your berth."
"You two are glitched Lamborghinis," Ratchet said, exasperated. "Even for Lamborghinis."
"Maybe a little," Sunstreaker said. "But we promised to take care of you and we will."
"You might even thank us later," Sideswipe said. "But probably not."
"Fraggers," Ratchet sighed. The berth called him to recharge. "Both of you."
"Just try it," Sunstreaker said. "It's not like we're going to let you go until you do."
Ratchet sputtered and wriggled just a bit as token resistance. He could feel the Twins' sparks pulsing gently from behind their chassis' and the sensation gradually relaxed him, until Ratchet had a hard time keeping his optics open. Quicker than he would have expected or hoped, Ratchet surrendered himself to his recharge. The Twins did too, Sunstreaker resting his head into the hollow of Ratchet's neck, and
Sideswipe curving down to rest his head on Ratchet's abdomen.
A memory flux jerked Ratchet awake sometime in the night. He woke so quickly, he didn't remember what exactly happened or what it was about. Ratchet felt foggy, not so alarmed, like the flux had been cut off before He had had a chance to experience it. The Twins' optics glowed in the dark and stared at him from his stomach and shoulder. Sunstreaker's fingers rubbed small circles over his shoulder while Sideswipe armed had moved to hug him around the middle.
"It's okay Ratch," Sunstreaker murmured, nuzzling his head, lazily, deeper into the crook of Ratchet's neck.
And for the rest of the night, it was. Ratchet woke hours later, completely rested and almost mellow. Well, mellow for him. The Twins were still recharging, wrapped around him and curled over him. It was stupid, but Ratchet wanted to stay like this just a little while longer. He felt secure and at ease, and safe in his plating. Oh he was going to pummel them both for this, but then he was going to have to thank them. The only thing that concerned Ratchet now was how he would recharge without the Twins.
