Title: Dark Gift

Pairing(s): Megatron/Ratchet, Optimus/Ratchet

Warnings: Not a lot to worry about some banter and an attempt at bad comedy. Which in itself is pretty awful, please forgive me.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing :sob: apart from a lot of toys and a filthy, filthy mind.

Summery: Ratchet goes for a check up…

AN: this is to establish a bit of plot and a bit of character interaction. Mostly the building of relationships, hopefully I haven't made it drag too much or made it too boring (please primus make it so!) This and the next chapter where once one chapter but it was starting to get to huge so I cut it in half to make it flow a little better. 'Of Doctors and Drones.' is a stop gap before more smut… promise that after this necessary bit there will be much more smutty goodness on the way. I have something… very… nice… planed… mwahahahah!

Once again, many thanks goes to Dragonragnarock for her wonderful ideas and Hrosanna for her diligent help. Also, Rahpael for her endeavours in translating this beast into Chinese. Luv these guys to bits and pieces!

Follow me on Tumblr! Look for Lozalot!

I'm on there every day so if you ask things… I will answer!

Luvs! XXX

Chapter 9: Of Doctors….

Hours after Megatron's departure for the mines, the Nemesis found itself lazily drifting over the Atlantic Ocean on the way to a new Energon deposit. Soundwave had been contacted by Knock-Out and asked to bring their new crewmate down for testing. The spy was now on his way to his masters quarters to retrieve the carrying mech, only this time without an armed guard present.

Megatron's decree stated that Ratchet was their guest and was to be treated as such. Judging by what he had seen of Ratchet's recent behaviour, Soundwave was confident that such heavy security would no longer be necessary, though he was going to ensure that a guard was with him at all times. This was more for the medic's protection than anything else as Soundwave was certain that Ratchet wouldn't try to leave; it would cause major conflict in his carrying protocols to endanger his young or even leave his new sparkmate. As long as he felt safe and secure when Megatron was away, the doctor would remain agreeable.

However, there were certain elements on board he didn't trust, namely Starscream and Airachnid. He didn't trust either of them as far as he could throw them- and being an ex-gladiator he could toss things quite far- there was no telling what plots their twisted processors could be capable of. Soundwave was going to make sure there was always a mech he trusted with Ratchet when he himself was absent from the medic's side. There was no telling what either lieutenant might do to ruin his lord's plans.

When Soundwave arrived, he went to press the call button on the door pad only to find it smashed in. The super spy tilted his head quizzically as he sent a message to the maintenance crew, curtly requesting for someone to come down and fix it as soon as possible. The panel gave off a spark and the unpleasant aroma of singed circuits wafted through the air.

Curiously he jabbed at the panel, hiding his surprise when it began to work sluggishly. His highly tuned audio sensors picked up the door chime, but it was distorted and sounded unpleasant to his trained audios. A few moments later the door opened and the Decepticon came face to face with the Autobot medic. He looked like he'd just come out of the wash racks and a faint scent of fragrant cleanser rolled off his warm frame.

"Good Morning Soundwave." The white mech smiled from the other side, startling the TiC with his cheerfulness. The slender purple mech gave a polite bow to his masters new mate, relieved to finally be able to show Ratchet the courtesy and respect he so rightly deserved.

/Greetings: Ratchet: Rested?/ Soundwave inquired.

"Quite well; I don't think I've slept so well in an age. That berth is just so comfortable!" Ratchet chuckled, "But what brings you here?"

/Knock-Out: Request presence: tests required./ the masked mech stated.

"Ah yes, I'd forgotten about them," the medic nodded, "Well, no time like the present I suppose," stepping out of the room and into the hall, "Very well. Lead on."

They walked side by side in a comfortable silence all the way to the turbolift. During the trip Soundwave covertly watched his charge- there were more scratches and dents than yesterday. The large wounds on his thighs were still looked painful, yet the doctor seemed to be unbothered by their presence. Once they disembarked on their desired deck Soundwave asked a question he was dying to know, praying it wouldn't insult the mech beside him and end up with a punch in the face.

/Soundwave: has inquiry./ he spoke up suddenly, catching the medic off guard.

"Oh?"

/Ratchet: pleased with condition?/

"You mean about the sparkling?" the Autobot asked. The dark spy gave a curt nod.

"Truth is I'm more then happy. It's been long time since I carried and I always enjoyed the experience." The medic replied, a wistful smile spreading across his face as he gently rubbed his breastplates. Soundwave watched him for a moment, considering his next words carefully before continuing his inquiry.

/Megatron: Sire: Acceptable?/

At that, Ratchet laughed out loud.

"Well, It's a little late to be worrying about that," the doctor grinned at the smaller mech. It was such a disarmingly charming thing that the Decepticon couldn't help the answering twitch of his own concealed lip plates. Ratchet then shook his helm ruefully. "If I'm honest he's not the first mech I'd choose, but saying that, he certainly has his charms and talents. I can't really complain."

/Inquiry: Optimus Prime?/

The spy knew he'd said the wrong thing the moment he sent it over the comm. Ratchet pleasant mood shifted dramatically in moments; Soundwave could have sworn the temperature dropped alongside the medic's face. The white mech's unnatural lilac optics took on a haunted and conflicted cast as he looked determinedly ahead, EM field suddenly becoming tense.

"Please do not talk about him," Ratchet stated stiffly, "I do not wish to think about him or what I was. Here and now is what's important, It's all that matters to me now. Do you understand?"

/Understood./ Soundwave nodded, readily accepting the medic's terms. He assumed that not talking about his previous affiliation or his position as his Prime's companion would make the whole situation easier for him. The spy couldn't blame the mech for his choice; such a drastic shift in allegiance would challenge even the most resolute. /Respect wishes: Soundwave: Apologises: was curious: Meant no offence: No discomfort/

"There was no offence," Ratchet sighed. "I just…"

/Ratchet: thoughts of past: undesired and unwelcome. Request: understood/ the spy sent solemnly. /Subject: will not be mentioned: Soundwave: gives word/

"That would be very much appreciated; thank you for your understanding," Ratchet murmured gratefully, his voice turning strained and full of undisclosed emotions.

Soundwave was not a physical mech by nature. Save for battle and the occasional communal shower he took with the drones he generally preferred to keep bots at arm's length, especially those he deemed dangerous. The spy found it easier to spot if they were trying to stab him in the back that way. But overt, outward shows of emotion were just not his thing. He was the antithesis to Starscream, who would wail shrilly, stamp his high heeled pedes and let his displeasure be known to all on the entire Nemesis.

Yet now, Soundwave found himself retching out to the mech beside him to offer him much- needed reassurance and comfort. He couldn't explain why he felt the need to do so; he couldn't interpret his own turbulent thoughts correctly at present. There were far too many conflicting emotions, as well as the horrid sense of foreboding he had about the whole sordid situation. Soundwave's long, spindly servos rose to place the barest of touches on the medic's arm.

Ratchet regarded him curiously, but the Decepticon merely tilted his helm and spoke.

/Ratchet: a good mech: Soundwave: respect: Ratchet: caring: Call: when have need: Ask: I shall provide: Soundwave: at your service: Soundwave: wants Ratchet happy here/ Soundwave's words were nothing but the honest truth. He did respect the older mech greatly and he wanted to do everything in his power to make his stay here as comfortable as he possible could, given the circumstances. The spy was delighted to see that kind smile return. Ratchets lilac optics softened, positive emotions replacing the dreary ones in his processor.

"Thank you for your kindness, it means a great deal," The medic replied, placing his own servo over the spy's in gratitude. Soundwave was suddenly struck by how large the medic's servos actually were- large, yet very gentle and warm. The contact only lasted for a moment before the limb returned to its owner's side, but Soundwave felt a great deal of relief at having being forgiven. When the mech spoke again, his voice took on a mischievous tone. "Though I will say, don't let Megatron hear that you're at my beck and call. You'll give him the wrong idea… and give me some very naughty ones."

Soundwave jaw dropped behind his mask as a furious heat spread over his faceplates. Ratchet just grinned roguishly at him, further flustering the TiC with a teasing wink and a click of his glossa. The spy hurriedly turned back to the medic, facings the doors. It seemed safer to the tentacled bot. On the flip side, the doctor was back to his happy self, chuckled lightly beside the slender mech. It appeared that Megatron's warnings were not exaggerated after all. Thankfully it was only a few moments before the turbo-lift opened and they soon arrived at their destination.

"Welcome back," the Decepticon medic's cultured voice called out as they entered, "I trust you will refrain for causing further chaos in my med-bay today?"

Soundwave was always astounded at how a voice that that sounded so pleasant could come out of something so devious. One of the many mysteries of the universe, he supposed.

"I promised to be on my best behaviour," Ratchet smiled cheerily, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture, "That is, unless I feel I need to cause a little chaos to get my point across." The sports car gave a pout. "Fair enough…" The Aston Martin sighed, guessing that was going to be the best he got from the mech. The medic wasn't going to argue with a carrying and easily upset Autobot- he still had the dent as a reminder. "Up on the berth if you please"

Ratchet silently complied by climbing onto the sloping medical berth, shifting a little to get comfortable. Soundwave stood out of the way, almost blending into the background as the doctor and his assistant began their task, hooking the older mech up to various monitors and starting to run numerous tests. The spy stood silently, watching for any malpractice that could endanger either the Autobot or the sparkling.

"Last time I examined you, I noticed there's a lot of scarring on your protoform and around your gestation tank," Knock-Out spoke up as he worked the computer, "I take it you've had sparklings before?"

"I have, three to be precise," Ratchet answered readily.

"Only three? That doesn't explain the amount of damage I'm seeing here. I would have guessed at least double that number."

"I carried split spark twins. The carriage was rather difficult on my frame," the Autobot informed him, and everymech in the room could detect the hint of pride in his voice and understandably so.

Twins were a very, very rare thing among Cybertronians and it was widely known that most never survived long enough to be birthed. The carrying process was fraught with complications and almost all twins died long before their birth date. To even conceive twins was considered praise- worthy. Knock-Out looked suitably impressed, while Breakdown paused what he was doing and now looked upon the mech with something close to awe.

"You carried twins?" The blue wrecker asked gently, he clearly wanted to know but did not want to touch too firmly on a delicate subject. Ratchet only smiled brightly and nodded.

"Carried them all the way through to full term and they were both born without much trouble. I'm apparently the lucky 0.01% that can bear twin sparks. It was still painful though, and caused a pit load of stress on my frame. It's never really healed properly. Then I had another sparkling not long afterwards and that just seemed to compact the damage, hence all the scarring," Knock-out nodded in understanding, making notes on a pad.

"What was it like?" Breakdown asked, clearly fascinated with the subject.

"What? Carrying twins?"

The one eyed mech nodded vigorously.

"Uncomfortable. My chest plates were out here," The medic replied honestly and indicated with his servos how far his chest plates expanded, "It got to the point where I didn't want to move and the mood swings…Ugh! I thought that Primus was punishing me for something and everyone was out to get me!" Ratchet chuckled. "Having the single one afterwards was a joy!" Breakdown laughed quietly to himself as he worked the monitors, a moment passing before he asked in a very quiet, almost shy voice.

"They say that… you can hear the sparkling while it's still inside. Is it true?"

"I don't know about hearing much… a sparkling doesn't have anything to say until it is in its secondary frame," Ratchet laughed in amusement. Breakdown's face soured a little, feeling he was being mocked.

"Right," he said drily, clearly feeling a little stupid for asking a silly question.

"But," Ratchet continued, "You do feel it moving, it's spark pulsing and when it gets nearer to the time for birthing… it's feelings become legible through its EM field. Is that's what you're thinking about?"

"Really?" the larger blue mech gasped as he diverted his attention back to the older bot, earlier embarrassment forgotten completely.

"I could tell when they were grumpy, happy, restless, contented… you get to know your sparkling's personality quite well even before they emerge. The twins would fidget relentlessly- one would wake up earlier than the other and kick his brother awake, then they would have little kick fights in the late evening. The two of them would go on for hours! I ended up having to banging on my chest plates to get them to stop. The littlest one on the other hand was a quiet thing, but he was very fond of somersaulting first thing in the morning, he loved music, used to swish inside to the beats and he liked to be sung to."

"Wow. That is… awesome."

The ex-wrecker's reverence of the Autobot was clear in his optic.

"I'd stop that talk if I were you," Knock-Out warned with narrowed optics.

"Why?" the older mech demanded, matching the other medic with a challenging glare.

"Because you'll give him ideas!" the Aston Martin snapped, "I don't care how lovely you make it all sound, I am not getting sparked! If he had his way there'd be more than one new spark on board!" he hissed, waving the pad accusingly at his assistant. The blue mech just looked affectionately over at his co-worker.

"What? Can you blame me?" the big mech asked, feigning hurt. Ratchet hummed, taking an appraising look at his counterpart before smirking at the large mech and replying.

"No, I certainly can't- he is rather bangable isn't he."

Breakdown let out a roar of a laugh while the red sports car groaned.

"Oh Primus, help me," Knock-out muttered and glared at the self- satisfied Autobot lying on the berth as his assistant cackled with mirth.

Though Soundwave remained outwardly motionless, he let himself grin broadly behind the safety of his mask at the shockingly friendly banter. He wasn't surprised by the resident medic's grumbling. It was a public secret on the Nemesis that Knock-Out and Breakdown's relationship was more than just combat or work partners. It seemed that Megatron was not the only one with sparklings on the mind.

"Alright, enough! Let's finish up; I don't want to be doing this all day!" Knock-out yelled snippily.

"Yes sir," Breakdown saluted, never losing his monstrous grin as he turned back to his machinery. The next few minutes passed in peace while the Decepticon medic compiled and analysed the readings. It wasn't long before something disturbing caught his attention, causing the doctor to hum to himself in thought. This wasn't missed by his sharp- audioed patient.

"I don't like that Knock-out," Ratchet said sternly, cool gazed fixed on the smaller mech, "I know what noises like that mean, what is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," the medic lied easily, though instantly regretted it as Ratchet cuffed him around the helm. The bot yelped shrilly, not really hurt but startled at the sudden assault.

"Do not try fobbing me off youngling! I'm old enough to know better, now tell me what you've found," the mech demanded. Knock-Out rubbed his poor abused helm, realising that it was probably better for his own health and finish if he just told the carrying bot the truth, no matter how awkward.

"There is a lot of Dark Energon in your system," Knock-Out said simply, "I am humming because I am a little concerned about the sparklet."

"Why?" Ratchet asked, face suddenly turning grim, "I feel fine!"

"That may well be true. We know that Dark Energon has regenerative and other beneficial properties in the short term, but we still know very little about its effects on a fully grown bot with long term exposure. We also have no idea if it will have an effect on a developing sparklet, and if it does… to what extent." The fierce glare suddenly melted from Ratchet's face, his optics widening in what the other Cybertronians could only call fear.

"D-do you think it's going to hurt the sparkling?" Ratchet asked, his voice quiet and shaky. Knock-out was take back by the complete 180 degree turn, the extremely worried if not terrified look that was now present on the older mechs face made his spark twist painfully. Knock-Out felt oddly conflicted- there was no reason he should be so concerned about the Autobots emotional state. Ratchet was only yesterday a captured enemy; his master's newly sparked up toy.

Perhaps it was the doctor in him or maybe the strange playful banter he had with Breakdown that suddenly endeared him. Perhaps it was just due to a desire not to be beaten to death by the mech or his bad- tempered bondmate if he upset the other medic. Whatever it was, as it stood now Ratchet was his priority patient and his responsibility, as well as the new life that was being incubated inside his chest, and he felt the urgent need to try and reassure him as best he could.

"As you know the gestation tank has numerous filtration devices; it's designed not to let anything harmful affect the sparklet. So far it's all looks clean and healthy. There's nothing there I can see that we should concern ourselves with. However, I'll be monitoring you more closely from now on. We'll run scans every morning and evening so we can keep an eye on everything as it progresses. If anything happens we'll catch it before it has time to become a problem," Knock-Out said, his voice low and smooth like warm honey, a soothing tone almost never heard onboard.

"You will tell me if there is something wrong, wont you?" Ratchet asked earnestly, placing a servo protectively over his chest. "Please, I… I don't want to lose this. I've lost all my young in this war… I can't lose this one too. It'd kill me."

The older mech's optics were bright and beseeching. The sports car had seen many carriers that had lost their young during war drive themselves to the Well of Allspark out of sheer grief. It wasn't a pleasant thing to have to witness such open raw sorrow.

To think that the mech before him had suffered the loss of all his younglings, including those miracle twins, yet had doggedly carried on. Knock-Out felt a little more of his hardened Decepticon armour crack under his pleading lilac optics. The Aston Martin did something very unlike him; resting a slender, clawed servo on a broad shoulder and gave him a reasuering smile.

"As your doctor, I promise that I will inform you of anything the moment it develops. But for now, all I want you to do is relax, take things easy and not to worry. That's my job."

Ratchet seemed to accept his word, nodded stiffly and lent back against the berth, clearly still fretting over the possibility of something harming his unborn sparkling. It was a distressing thought for any carrier, let alone one with the pressure the older mech was under. Knock-Out busied himself in the odd silence that descended upon the group and continued to take more thorough readings. Every so often Ratchet would look over at the readouts himself, searching for any abnormality. His large servos still ran randomly over his chest were his sparklet lay, and Knock-out wasn't sure if it was to sooth the young spark or himself. The whole demeanour change was a stark contrast to previously jovial atmosphere only mere moments ago.

"Can you see anything yet?" Ratchet asked suddenly, catching the Decepticon medic off guard. Knock-Out looked up to find a pair of purple optics gazing at him yet again, still full of a worry and literally begging for more reassurance. The Autobot began to worry his lower lip component and yet another split formed in the Decepticon's stony spark, melting against the emotional overload. Knock Out wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"No. Nothing to see yet, it's still far too early," The tattooed sports car said, shaking his head.

"I thought it would be."

Ratchet lent back with a shaky sigh of disappointment. Knock-Out's growing sympathy for their masters newly sparked trophy mate was becoming too much, he needed to do something to make himself feel better or he was going to go nuts from the guilt building in the pit of his fuel tank.

"Too early to see anything but, if I do this…" Knock-Out smirked as he typed a few commands on the console. Moments later a distorted, rhythmic sound echoed in the room. It was fast and high pitched, making the other mechs in the room stop and listen intently.

"What is that?" Breakdown asked, his brow pulled down in confusion, never before having herd such a sound.

"That, gentlebots, is the sound of a new spark," Knock-Out announced grandly. He turned to the older medic, surprising everyone by giving a genuine spark warming smile. "And it sounds very healthy indeed."

Though Ratchet said nothing, the smile on his own face said enough. All could see and feel the gratitude exuded from the older mech as he looked up at his younger counterpart.

"Wow…" Was all Breakdown could say even more blown away then before. This was the first time he'd ever helped tend to a carrying bot and he'd never head a sound like it. It was fast and erratic, nothing like a full grown Cybertronian's spark which had a slow, steady pulse. It sent a strange feeling welling through his frame, triggering something deep within his programming. The ex-wrecker felt an overwhelming protectiveness for the older mech.

This situation was becoming more and more real. Yesterday this all still seemed like some kind of elaborate joke, but there really was a new little life growing inside the Autobot medic. A life created from the life forces of both Ratchet and Megatron. That small spark of energy would grow and learn and feel. Become a bot and have likes and hates… would feel the pain of fighting in their endless war… would make friends and enemies… would one day fall in love…

It was a true miracle, the wonder of creation. Something the ex-Wrecker had wanted for himself and his lover for countless centuries. It was something they had both been denied and had been denying themselves for longer than they cared to admit. Breakdown he wasn't too proud to admit, if just to himself, that he was envious of Ratchet beyond belief.