Author's Note: Firstly, here is a nice, long, more than double-length chapter for y'all. I had fun writing this one, and it works a little bit of insight into Ratchet's background into the story for us a bit. It's the longest chapter I've written so far, so hopefully it holds you over this week, because I've got a heavy work schedule coming up through the first couple weeks of October and I may fall a bit behind with updates. Also, this chapter is based off of the song Old Skin by Ólafur Arnalds. If you haven't heard it, I suggest you check it out. It's not everyone's cuppa, but you know. :)
Secondly, I don't typically respond to reviews as part of my chapters, as I like to keep the author's notes short to create as little distraction as I can while still being personable, in addition to the fact that I prefer to respond individually via the reply feature… However, I feel the pressing need to give a big shout out and thank you to the guest reviewer known as Kaleia! She has been with the fic since mere moments after I posted the first chapter and has faithfully reviewed every chapter since. So, thank you :) I wish I could reply to all of your reviews via message, but this will have to do. And again, a huge thank you to all of those who have taken the time to review, new readers or otherwise!
Chapter 9: Old Skin
Where the woods would wear the wafting sounds of sea
Roves an oath, in search for something more to be
"Still hard for me."
Treading lightly, tightly shedding its old skin
Leaving trails of night for light to bring chagrin
While air grows thin
In these hands I'll hide
While this world collides
It's not enough for me
When Mikaela woke the next morning, even before opening her eyes the first thing she noticed was that she was utterly sore from head to toe. Her muscles protested every small movement as she brought a hand to rub at her eyes and push her hair out of her face. She turned over with a small groan, intending to bury her face in the comfort of her pillow, but her eyes snapped open when she realized that her pillows, her blankets – her whole bed felt different. The mechanic gave her vision a moment to adjust, blinking in the bright light filtering in from the open blinds at the window to the left of the bed and realizing with a sharp jolt exactly where she was. And why she was there.
She sighed heavily, sitting up in the overly large bed and allowing the covers to slide down and pool around her waist as she hunched forward to rub the sleep out of her eyes. After a moment of bleary eyed deep breathing she opted to put the previous day behind her, at least for the moment until everything settled down again. She would, instead, be grateful that everyone was alright and that neither she nor Ratchet had been in the house at the time it was raided and burned down. She also chose to be thankful that they had managed to find Sideswipe and that he had been in good order ('with the exception of twitchy trigger fingers', she thought with a snort). Yes, things could be much, much worse than what they had turned out to be.
She stretched her arms over her head, bowing her back, lacing her fingers and folding her palms outward, a satisfied grin befalling her features as a large portion of the tension eased from her muscles and spine. Sliding out of the bed, she stepped back into her jeans from the previous day with a slight grimace – they were gonna need to do something about the only-having-one-set-of-clothes thing. Preferably before it became a serious issue. With this thought swimming around in her sleep-fuzzy brain she walked silently over to open the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. She stood for a moment, just listening to the sounds in and around the house, fully expecting to hear Ratchet walking about downstairs or outside speaking to Sideswipe. However, the only sounds that met her ears were those of the morning crickets and the birds that inhabited the dense forest around the cabin.
She frowned, vaguely wondering if the CMO had gone somewhere without waking her, but Ratchet chose that moment to stagger out of the bedroom down the hall, nearly tripping over his own two feet as he made a clumsy attempt to close the door behind him. Mikaela raised an eyebrow as the CMO turned to regard her blearily, eyes bright and glazed over with the lingering dregs of sleep, hair sticking out at all angles despite his obviously halfhearted attempt to pull it back into a ponytail. There was simply no other way to describe it, Ratchet was –for all intents and purposes- bright eyed and bushy tailed.
"Ghee," Mikaela said, yawning and not bothering to mask the surprise in her tone. "Did you go out partying last night and forget to invite me or something?"
Ratchet grumbled something unintelligible and Mikaela couldn't quite make out exactly what he said, but she had managed to pick up several swear words and something about a human body needing 'slagging ridiculous amounts of slagging sleep to slagging function properly.' Before she could ask, the disgruntled CMO shuffled across to the bathroom and slammed the door behind laughed, making her way down the hall to the stairs, wondering to herself whether or not they could find anything suitable for breakfast as she descended into the kitchen.
As it turned out, the house was somewhat well stocked with the very basic of essentials: The kitchen had sealed bags of rice and some canned goods – enough, at least, to fill their stomachs for that morning. The bathrooms were mostly bereft of any supplies, the exception being a couple bars of soap and a package of bathroom tissue (much to Mikaela's stark relief).
Needless to say, their first order of business had become getting the house stocked up with supplies.
Mikaela had volunteered to… procure them some supplies from the supermarket a little further down the mountain, off of the main highway. When Ratchet's eyes had narrowed at her in suspicion, she had merely shrugged and explained that she had only a couple hundred dollars in cash, and everything else had been in her checking and savings accounts and that unless they wanted to give away their location, there would be no withdrawals from either of them. She had argued that what money they did have was precious, and was to be held onto unless something came up that absolutely demanded they spend it.
Ratchet, as much as he hated to admit, could not argue with that logic and sat quietly, arms crossed and scowling, as the mechanic drew up some plans with the assistance of Sideswipe's holo for getting the necessary supplies they needed from the large store. Eventually they had a nice, long list consisting of food basics with the exception of the simple, nonperishables they had been able to find in the large kitchen, and personal products such as shampoo, soap, toiletries, etc.
Mikaela had also argued that they needed clothing as well and that there was a department store not far off from the grocers, to which Ratchet had scoffed and muttered about women and their obsession with apparel. Mikaela not-so-subtly put him in his place by reminding him that he had no extra clothes either, and unless he wanted to raid Sam's closet in the small bedroom and walk around in a Slayer T-shirt, he was going to have to accept it and move on. Again, trumped by the mechanic's logic as well as the terrifying mental image it conjured, the CMO had no choice but to agree, albeit silently and moodily.
And so Mikaela and Sideswipe had gone into town, leaving Ratchet at the cabin at his own insistence because, though he may have conceded on the act, the idea of stealing did not sit well with him and he refused to take part unless absolutely necessary. Standing in the center of the living room of the eerily quiet cabin, the CMO frowned as he glanced slowly around him, nose crinkling slightly as he beheld the small clouds of dust floating, visible in the patches of sunlight that filtered through the large windows. He stretched, cracking his neck with a grimace, and pulled the small dish towels that he had found in the kitchen out of his pocket. He tied one deftly around the lower part of his face, covering his mouth and nose, and stepped over to pull a broom and dust pan out of the closet next to the front door.
It was time to get to work.
Sideswipe and Mikaela returned almost three hours later, nearly identical smirks plastered across their triumphant faces as they marched through the front door and dropped their armfuls of goods onto the dining room table. Small piles of food such as apples and peaches and potatoes, cucumber and tomatoes and bananas as well as bread, chicken, ground beef, eggs, small servings of milk, orange juice, frozen vegetables and cheese rapidly built upon the table as they made a second trip out to Sideswipe's alt mode, this time hauling in various clothing and personal products. Once satisfied that the Porsche was empty and the table could not possibly hold anything else, Mikaela turned, dusting her hands off, and noticed the change in the house almost immediately.
The surfaces of the countertops in the kitchen, as well as the dining table, end tables and coffee table shone noticeably in the afternoon sun, the dust having been wiped away. The sinks had been scrubbed, the floors swept and mopped and the windows were so clear that the mechanic had to do a double take to make sure that the glass was even still there. The curtains in the living room and over the kitchen sink had been beaten, cleared of dust and cobwebs and the couches looked distinctly less dingy. A grin spread slowly over Mikaela's face.
To put it simply, the cabin was spotless.
"Huh," Sideswipe remarked, following her gaze around the open area. "Never pictured the Hatchet as the domestic type. Guess you've got him trained pretty well?"
Mikaela snorted. "I dare you to say that to his face."
"Oh, you know you don't need to dare me," Sideswipe said flippantly. "No regard for my own personal safety and all of that. Where is the cranky slagger, anyway?"
"The 'cranky slagger'," Ratchet's voice floated down from the top of the stairs, a distinct note of impatience coloring his tone, "Has ears, and is currently scrubbing the banister on the second floor above your heads."
Mikaela tilted her head back, meeting Ratchet's even stare with a broad smile. "Hey, Ratch. Looks good!"
"Thank you. How on Earth," Ratchet said sharply, gesturing to everything that they had piled on the table. "Did you manage to get all of this out of the store without getting caught?"
Mikaela's grin widened, becoming mischievous as she said "Sideswipe can change his holo."
Realization dawned slowly across Ratchet's features and he sighed as he stopped scrubbing, letting his head drop to the palm of his hand. "You two," he said, "Are terrifying as a team."
Later that evening saw them sitting around the large wooden table as the sun dipped low to the horizon, casting blue shadows over the forest and the exterior of the house and creating a peaceful atmosphere. Sideswipe, who Mikaela suspected had grown bored ambling around outside in his bipedal mode, had joined them in his holo a while ago and eventually the lively conversation had died down and the three were left in relative silence.
"I'm already getting tired of sitting here," the Autobot warrior griped suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair so that only its two back legs touched the floor. "When are we rolling out?"
Ratchet glared at him and Mikaela had the distinct impression that the CMO was considering kicking the remaining two legs of Sideswipe's chair out from under him. She cleared her throat, hoping it would distract them both, "We need a plan."
"What about finding Optimus?" Sideswipe suggested immediately. "We are weaker on our own, obviously… Boss bot has a ton of fire power, and I'll bet he's got something going in the way of a battle plan. I say we find him and join up."
"No, Optimus will be too far off the radar by now for us to find easily," Ratchet said thoughtfully. "And he is likely still on the move. No one will find him unless he wants to be found."
"What do you suggest?" Mikaela asked, levelling both Ratchet and Sideswipe with a questioning and eager gaze.
"I suggest we take our own initiative," Sideswipe responded, and Mikaela's head swiveled around to him as her interest was suddenly piqued. "I think we need to find out more about Cemetery Wind, and to do that we need to start with its partner organization… KSI."
"Should we contact Will?" Mikaela asked.
"No," Ratchet said sharply, and Mikaela redirected her attention to him. "At this time we need to keep to ourselves. Any contact with the colonel at this point will be serving to do nothing but put him and his family in danger. They know you are helping us, Mikaela. I do not know how, but that fact remains, and at this time we cannot risk pulling anyone else into our plans. It is too risky."
"What about a more hands-on approach?" Sideswipe said. "What if I do some digging and we get some valuable info to go on. Say we go to the company's headquarters in Chicago and-"
"Absolutely not," Ratchet snapped, cutting the frontliner off before he could get halfway through his sentence.
Mikaela and Sideswipe frowned in tandem. "But Ratchet-"
"Nobody is going to fragging Chicago!"
The harsh acuity in Ratchet's voice made Mikaela jump and she blinked at him in surprise from across the table as Sideswipe's holo turned slowly to regard him with the same startled expression.
"At least two of us are currently being hunted by a seriously discriminatory, dangerous, ruthless and possibly rogue branch of the United States Government," Ratchet said firmly. "At least two. And one of us had already had their run-in with the organization in question and would rather not repeat it."
Mikaela winced, hardly daring to argue with that statement, but unable to keep her stubborn nature in check. "Ratchet, what do you suggest we do? Sit and wait for this all to be over, when you know as well as I do that we could be out there helping, even if it is just a little bit?"
"Yes, and when we decide to throw ourselves headlong into a plan – if you can even call it such a thing – that is unstable at best and all get ourselves killed, how much help will we be then?"
"Well what's your alternative, then? More extensive planning? Do we search for some of the Autobots and hop on their bandwagon, if they even have one, or do we go our own way?" Mikaela growled. "Come on, you've got to give us something. You can't just shoot down everything we throw out on the table without-"
"The simple truth of the matter remains! We are unprepared, Mikaela, in nearly every way. We know very, very little about KSI and even less about Cemetery Wind. We do not know where the remaining Autobots are hiding, and I am not about to suggest giving away our own location to send out a signal and find out."
Mikaela and Sideswipe exchanged helpless looks.
"And moreover," Ratchet sighed. "We have no supplies fit for such an undertaking. No weapons."
"Actually, that's not quite right," Sideswipe said cryptically, before glancing over at Ratchet. "Do you remember all of those human prototype… anti-Decepticon weapons that Wheeljack was working on?"
Ratchet barked a sharp, somewhat humorless laugh. "How could I forget?" he asked. The inventor had been absolutely and ridiculously ecstatic at the idea, despite all of the CMO's protests that it was 'slagging dangerous and Primus below, what would happen if those got into the wrong hands!?' Ratchet's stomach gave a curious lurch at the memory and he shifted uncomfortably. Sideswipe eyed him with a little more softness than Ratchet would have liked, and Ratchet snapped "What about them?"
"I have some," Sideswipe said simply.
"You what-"
"You do?!"
Mikaela's eager reply came at precisely the same time as Ratchet's less-than-eager one and Sideswipe's holo flinched slightly. "Yeah, well remember how he wanted us to carry a set of them around in our subspace pockets at all times? Well, I never really… uh, they're still in there."
Ratchet levelled him with the type of stony stare that a mother might give her child when said child has just informed her that he has not cleaned his room in months.
"What have I told you?" Ratchet said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What have I said about the importance of not storing so much slag in your fragging subspace compartments?"
"Never to let it happen because it can overload the departmental sensors and cause a jam – yeah, yeah, I know." Sideswipe mumbled, shrugging and giving his best impression of a chastised ten-year-old.
Mikaela smirked at their antics. "So what kind of weapons?"
"Some hand-to-hand ones, the kind of up-close-and-personal stuff that Hatchet likes. Mostly firearms, though - several small hand-helds and maybe a couple of rifles."
"Well that's something at least. Right, Ratch?" the mechanic asked hopefully.
"I am not discussing this any further," Ratchet said suddenly, standing and stepping away from the table in one quick motion. "Weapons or no, we are still unprepared."
Mikaela watched him stalk angrily across the kitchen and open the back door, shutting it with a sharp sense of finality behind him. She turned back to regard Sideswipe with a frown and the frontliner shrugged.
"That didn't go quite like I wanted it to," Mikaela said.
"He is not a fighter," Sideswipe sighed, looking more serious than Mikaela could ever remember seeing him. "It isn't in his nature. He's a medic, he was a politician, a liaison, a mediator – a diplomat and a damn good one."
"Yeah, I know he was really prominent in political circles before the war on Cybertron," Mikaela nodded. "Between the little he's told me and what I've caught off of everyone else."
"Oh, he was more than prominent - He headed the entire anti-war movement, fought it viciously for years. When he found he couldn't keep the call for war at bay any longer, he did the next best thing in his mind and became a frontline medic," Sideswipe said, leaning forward on his elbows, a look of reminiscence passing over his features. "Was never one to engage the enemy without cause, but so help him Primus if you were to set pede near one of his patients on the battlefield, there was Pit to be pay and he was a slagging force to be reckoned with. You did not want to run into the Hatchet on the front lines, I'll tell you that."
"I've seen him fight," Mikaela said, flinching slightly. "He's good, even though he won't admit it."
"Of course he's good. He's more than good, he's exceptional and talented, particularly when it comes to hand-to-hand combat and close range weapons - not that I would ever tell him that. He's a warrior underneath all of that peace-mongering exterior, only problem is that it was forced on him. Every time he finds himself in the heat of battle, with every blow he lands, every bot he injures and every life he takes he is rebelling against his core programming. Against his purpose, or what he sees as his purpose, anyway," Sideswipe continued, casting a wary glance at still-shut back door. "Every spark he extinguishes weighs heavily on him, and he will never forget, nor forgive himself for it."
"I know it does," Mikaela said, brows drawing together in a frown. "He never talks about it, though. Especially the days before the war, even when I try to get him to open up to me."
"Don't take it personally, girl. That's just Hatchet. He's never been the most open of mechs, even before the war broke out, but don't think that it means he has any less respect for you. He respects you, maybe more than anyone besides Prime."
"Yeah… I just wish I could help him."
"We've all tried," Sideswipe mumbled, leaning back in his chair again and looking up at the sky that was visible through the sprawling limbs of the pine trees. "Primus knows we've tried. But Ratchet is a hard mech to make do anything he doesn't want to."
"Surely he wants to forget all of that, though?"
"You know, as many times as I've told myself that very same thing… I don't think he does. I think it's his method of penance, of reminding himself that every life is precious, whether it belongs to an enemy or an ally," the frontliner continued thoughtfully. "I myself have never been able to see it that way. For me, it's as simple as kill or be killed. But I'm a warrior build and I have the luxury of being able to ignore the guilt. The medic doesn't have that luxury."
"I know he doesn't have the luxury. I wish he did – I mean, I know that's got to get really heavy, every death weighing on you for millennia… And then all this weirdness, and suddenly he finds himself stuck inside a squishy little body that I know he finds inferior. Don't even know how he's not flipping out constantly," Mikaela sighed, biting her lip.
"I'm glad he's back," Sideswipe said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Don't you breathe a word of this to him or I will prank you until you are at my pedes begging for mercy, but when word hit that we'd lost him… Well, I was convinced that we'd lost the war once and for all, and that was probably the end of our species. When he died, all of our hope went with him."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," Sideswipe affirmed, his voice strangely tight. "That damn medic keeps us all put together in more ways than one. He will never understand his worth to us."
"I know that feeling," Mikaela said honestly. "I don't think he understands how many people honestly depend on him. Not just as a medic, either."
"Course not," Sideswipe laughed. "He's Ratchet. I'll be damned if I've ever seen him even consider his own value, let alone accept a compliment on it."
"Ain't that the truth," Mikaela snorted.
At that moment the back door opened again and a less-furious looking Ratchet stepped back into the kitchen with a deep inhale. When Sideswipe and Mikaela turned to stare at him, he stepped over to the table and sat rather bonelessly in the chair he'd vacated a few moments prior.
"I apologize," Ratchet said slowly, and Mikaela had to work hard to wipe the smirk off of her face as Sideswipe feigned cardiac arrest across the table at the statement. The fronliner stilled quickly when Ratchet favored him with his infamous death glare, however, and Mikaela cleared her throat out of habit in an attempt to diffuse the tension.
"I do not wish to be so difficult," Ratchet continued, his gaze trained on his hands folded on the table in front of him. "How I have behaved over the past few days - I know it sounds like I have lost all hope – I have not… I only want to keep the few remaining members of our ever dwindling faction safe, if it is possible. However, what I fail to take into account rather frequently is that we are scattered and in hiding, being hunted to extinction and that is not a manner of living that I find even befits the word. It seems that we may wait all we wish, but this is not going to blow over, as Optimus predicted."
Mikaela winced at the truth of Ratchet's statement.
"Things have gotten out of hand in a way that we could not have foreseen," the CMO sighed, sounding old. "The fact is, the new enemy we find ourselves pitted against has many dimensions: Lockdown, for one. Cemetery Wind, for another… and KSI for a third. Between the three, they have taken many things from us. They have taken your home, Mikaela – they have taken our friends, our comrades, they have even taken our enemies, to say nothing of our freedom and our right to existence. And you are both right; we can no longer sit idly by and let this happen, when there is something we may do to stop it."
"So you're saying that we'll do it?" Mikaela ventured tentatively. "We'll go to Chicago?"
"I did not say that," Ratchet sighed, and then at Mikaela's crestfallen look continued on to say "One step at a time, youngling. Planning. Preparation. Detail."
"Okay," Mikaela sighed. It was something, at least. "How do we start?"
"We can start by taking a look at what type of inventory that slaghead sitting next to you has been keeping locked away in his subspace panel for the last few years."
Sideswipe had the grace to look slightly ashamed, though he shrugged it off a second later. "What do you wanna look at?" he asked.
"The weapon prototypes you were speaking of," Ratchet said. "I would like to see what you have of Wheeljack's models and if they will be of any real use to us. But not tonight, in the morning, when we have had time to settle and a bit more time to rest and recollect."
"Can't argue with that," Mikaela said, stifling a yawn. "I'm about ready for bed anyway, don't know about you two."
"I cannot say I would be averse to it, no," Ratchet replied, and Mikaela figured that was just his way of politely saying he was slagging tired and well past the point of being done with today.
"I'll leave you two to it," Sideswipe said, rising from the table and offering a small salute as his holo flickered out of existence.
Mikaela yawned again, climbing to her feet slowly and stretching her arms out. "Yep, it's bedtime. I'm tired, and you look like you could fall asleep right where you're sitting."
Ratchet stared up at her evenly. "I do not imagine that would be very comfortable."
"No," Mikaela laughed. "Probably because it wouldn't be. Come on, let's go to bed and leave this whole day behind us."
"That sounds ideal," the CMO conceded, rising as well and turning to trail behind Mikaela through the living room and up the stairs, gently flipping off the light switch as he passed.
They bade each other goodnight at the top of the stairs and went to their respective rooms, where Mikaela wiggled into a brand new pair of pajama bottoms and a comfortably large T-shirt before settling down in bed. She took longer to fall asleep that evening, an inexplicable feeling of uneasiness keeping her mind more active than she'd have liked. Finally she was able to shove the lingering thoughts and questions out of her brain long enough to fall asleep, silently telling herself that she'd think about them more when tomorrow came.
Mikaela was up with the sun the next morning, eagerly tossing on a pair of jeans and a tank top before pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail and all but galloping down the stairs to find her two counterparts. She had been keen to see what Sideswipe had stored away in terms of human weaponry ever since she had awoken that morning and was pleased to see that the frontliner's holo was already standing on the deck at the back of the house, quietly conversing with Ratchet as the CMO sat cross-legged on the edge of the grass.
"Good morning," Mikaela said brightly as she stepped outside, chasing away the early morning chill by rubbing her arms vigorously with her hands. "What are you two up to?"
"Waiting for you to get your lazy aft out of bed," Sideswipe teased, and Ratchet shot him a reprimanding look. "What? Humans sleep too much."
"Cannot argue with that," Ratchet said simply.
"Soooo, are we gonna get going or what?" Mikaela asked, unable to contain her eagerness as she rocked forward on the balls of her feet. Ratchet raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.
"Get going with what?"
"You know, the stuff Sideswipe has stored away in his no-no space?"
Ratchet snorted and Sideswipe looked slightly put out. "Hasty. Have you eaten breakfast?"
"No," Mikaela whined.
"Well, I suggest you get to it," Ratchet said firmly. Mikaela sighed and drug her feet back into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with a protein bar that she quickly stuffed into her mouth as soon as Ratchet could see.
"There, I had breakfast," she mumbled, her mouth full of granola. "Can we move on now?
"Whenever you are ready, I suppose," the CMO sighed, favoring her with a dubious look and climbing to his feet.
"I'm definitely ready."
"Sideswipe," Ratchet said, angling his head toward the frontliner's alt mode with a sharp jerk of his chin. "Let me see what you have in the way of staves."
"You got it, Doc," Sideswipe said, his holo disappearing around the side of the house for a moment before trotting back, arms full of Wheeljack's humanized weapons. He dumped them all in a heap on the edge of the deck and stepped back, allowing his holo to dissipate as Mikaela and Ratchet stepped forward, allowing the two humans to have their choice.
Mikaela sifted through the melee weaponry, avoiding the sword and axe-like weapons and the grappling tools to fish out a mid-sized, handheld device that looked somewhat similar to a Smith and Wesson 460 caliber magnum, but nearly twice the size. She turned the weapon over gently in her hands, marveling at the relative weightlessness and the smooth finish of the metal barrel.
She glanced over at Ratchet just as the CMO chose a short, club-looking weapon that instantly reminded her of a nightstick from the pile. Mikaela tilted her head in curiosity as Ratchet mumbled to himself, holding the black metal of the weapon close to his face as he punched several buttons that were located at each end of the club in what looked to be a specific order. He nodded to himself as the weapon twisted and vibrated for a moment before extending on each end by several feet, leaving him with a nearly six foot long staff.
"What do you call that thing? Other than a big stick," Mikaela asked, gesturing towards Ratchet's weapon.
"I believe it is called a 'quarterstaff' in human terms," Ratchet said absently. "I would tell you what it is called on Cybertron, but I doubt the human vocal chords I find myself limited by will accommodate Cybertronian without disintegrating."
Mikaela winced, shaking her head quickly. "I'll just take your word for it."
"The core carries a charge," Ratchet continued, unphased. "And the charge is released by the ends, here – these blades."
"What does the charge do?"
"The electrodes within the blades release the charge, which is conducted by Cybertronium, the alloy in our frames and armor." Ratchet said, running his hands lightly over the sharpened blades at each end. "It is designed to put a great deal of stress on a Cybertronian spark, causing a massive overload and extinguishing it almost instantly."
"Like a heart attack?"
"Yes, much like the equivalent of a human heart attack."
"That's pretty powerful," Mikaela said honestly. "Wheeljack was brilliant."
"Yes," Ratchet said quietly, running his hands over the weapon almost lovingly. "He was."
Stepping backward away from Mikaela, he twirled the staff rapidly, swinging it above his head and letting it spin and roll around his hands likes the blades of a helicopter before bringing it down on the concrete with an echoing 'crack!' The mechanic winced and jumped back at the sharp sound, eyes widening at the considerable groove left in the ruined concrete after Ratchet lifted the staff up again.
"Gheez, Ratch," Mikaela laughed. "That's a little intense."
Ratchet shrugged, straightening and rolling his healed shoulder experimentally. "Not much choice, I am afraid."
"Yeah, I guess," Mikaela sighed lightly, fingering the grooves on her own weapon and marveling at the way it fit perfectly in her hand thanks to its fluid design, a testament to Wheeljack's sheer prowess in adaptation of technology to fit circumstance.
"Ah, I see you have found one of Wheeljack's later prototypes," Ratchet said, frowning.
"Yeah, this seemed to fit me best, somehow," Mikaela nodded. "What exactly does it do? Any idea?"
"Yes, I have plenty of idea," Ratchet said. "I helped him design it."
"Oh. Well?"
"It does nearly the exact same thing that my chosen weapon does – releases an overcharge that extinguishes a Cybertronian spark, only you can fire your charge from a distance in the form of an energy projectile."
"Oh, so it is like a handgun," Mikaela said.
"Yes, it is quite similar. However, because of the range effect, the charges from your weapon will not be as directly effective as one that would contact a Decepticon directly, such as my staff. You may have to fire several shots in order to extinguish a target's spark."
"I can deal with that. I'm not much for getting up close and personal with unfriendly robots, anyway. Plus, I have no combat skills with melee weapons – but I can shoot," Mikaela nodded. "So your stick thingy there – it has a more powerful charge?"
"Not necessarily more powerful, no. At its inception, the charge from my weapon would be roughly equivalent to the one released from your own – however, mine is meant for close range combat and yours is not, so the charge your weapon fires will lessen as it travels the distance in between you and your intended target. It is the lack of distance that will be between my weapon and my enemy that will make the charge it releases have a more devastating immediate effect."
"I see," Mikaela responded, still running her fingers over the metal of the weapon she held. It had a mesmerizing quality to it that she couldn't quite get over. "So you would rather be up close and personal with your targets, then?"
"Yes, it is my preferred method. I need to do some training with this," Ratchet continued, idly twirling the staff in his fingers and letting it roll around the back of his hand and into his palm again. "I am not used to…"
"The human body?" Mikaela asked.
"Something like that. While I am now familiar with the primary functions and such, I have yet to explore its potential and limitations in combat."
"How would you even do that?" Mikaela asked. "Other than throwing yourself into battle?"
Ratchet shook his head. "No, I would not do such a thing… I merely need some practice," he tossed a meaningful glance over at Sideswipe's alt form and jerked his head in that direction. "I need to spar."
"With Sideswipe? Oh, this should be good," Mikaela said, grinning eagerly. "Can I watch?"
"You may do as you wish," Ratchet said gruffly, turning in the direction of the frontliner. "Sideswipe, get your aft over here."
The frontliner formed a holo quickly, walking with long strides across the grass and hopping up onto the deck to come over to stand in front of Ratchet. "What's up, Hatchet?"
Ratchet smacked him over the head with his palm, snarling. "Do not call me that. I need a small favor."
"What's… going on?" Sideswipe asked, suddenly fidgety as Ratchet pinned him with an intense look.
"I need to test my combat capabilities in this form," Ratchet said, sounding mildly disinterested.
"Oh? And just… how were you going to do that?" Sideswipe hesitated, glancing between the staff Ratchet was idly twirling and the CMO's straight face.
"I need a sparring partner."
"Oh. Well, where would you -… Me? Oh no, Doc. No."
"And why not? I will go easy on you, if you wish…" Ratchet scowled, though Mikaela could detect the teasing undertones to his jab. Sideswipe rolled his eyes.
"I'm not exactly an expert at fragging squishy fighting protocols, Hatchet!" the frontliner whined.
"That is slag and you know it," Ratchet shot back. "You helped train the soldiers of NEST, did you not?"
"Yeah but that was in firearms and blowing slag up!"
"I saw you sparring and practicing with them on several occasions, Sideswipe," Ratchet sighed, eyes narrowing cleverly. "But if you think you cannot handle it..."
"Fine!" Sideswipe shouted. "But I don't want to hear you cry after I beat your aft."
"Oh please," Ratchet mumbled as Sideswipe stalked to the weaponry pile on the deck and returned a moment later with a staff very similar to Ratchet's, if a little shorter and wider.
"Deactivate your charges and uninstall the blades," Ratchet said, bracing his own staff between his knees and pushing a few tiny buttons toward each end of the weapon before unscrewing the sharpened ends and removing the blades to lay them on the edge of the deck. He nodded as Sideswipe did the same.
Ratchet sent Mikaela a sly look and the mechanic stood back to lean against the frame of the back door and watched quietly, so as not to disturb the obvious focus the medic had as he stepped onto the grass from the deck, bare feet padding silently across the ground to stand across from Sideswipe's holoform.
They regarded each other silently for a moment before the frontliner broke the silence;
"I won't go easy on you, old mech. Even in that weaker body," Sideswipe said, looking somewhat feral as he began to move, circling the CMO slowly. Mikaela was suddenly reminded of a big, predatory cat who eyed its meal from all angles before springing.
"I would not expect anything less," Ratchet responded, unaffected, staying where he was with his feet planted firmly apart in the long grass and rolling the staff experimentally in his palms as Sideswipe moved. "You may expect as much from me."
The Autobot warrior circled the medic a moment longer before lunging forward suddenly. Mikaela held her breath as Ratchet spun, shoving his staff out in front of him in order to mitigate Sideswipe's first strike, his palms spread wide as their weapons connected.
A grin split Sideswipe's features and his eyes met Ratchet's. "Maybe this will be fun," he said, sounding slightly breathless as he stepped back to start circling again.
Before he could manage to fall into the pattern again, however, Ratchet made his own move. He sprung forward without preamble, jumping immediately into offensive mode and the sharp speed and fury of his strikes made Mikaela's mouth fall open with unconcealed astonishment. He had gained the upper hand over the Autobot warrior in less than ten seconds, his blows forcing Sideswipe to retreat backwards with eyes wide in surprise as he barely kept pace enough to keep the rapid attacks at bay.
The medic continued to advance with surprising speed, pushing Sideswipe back further and further until the warrior's concentration began to slip. Unable to keep up with the ferocity of Ratchet's strikes against him in conjunction with his own footing on the uneven ground, Sideswipe stumbled briefly, throwing his arms to the side to catch his balance before he fell – it was just long enough for Ratchet to draw his own focus and shove his staff forward in one smooth movement. Sideswipe turned back toward Ratchet only to find the CMO's staff pressed against his chest, resting just below his clavicle. The frontliner growled, lips lifting in a snarl to reveal his teeth as the medic pressed harder.
"Concede," Ratchet ground out.
With a growl, Sideswipe knocked the staff away from his chest and lunged at Ratchet again with his own, a series of sharp snaps echoing outward off the pine trees as their staffs collided repeatedly. Clearly Sideswipe was on the offensive now and Mikaela noticed Ratchet had to work doubly hard to keep all of the taller man's strikes from meeting their intended targets.
The frontliner whirled, catching Ratchet off guard and jabbing him hard in the stomach with the blunted end of his staff. The CMO doubled over with a sharp exhale, wincing before righting himself and dancing nimbly backward to avoid his opponent's follow up strike. Mikaela found herself on the edge of her seat watching the two seasoned warriors clash, rooting for Ratchet all the way (though she'd never say it out loud.)
Sideswipe grinned, advancing on Ratchet again and taking a large, far-reaching swing at the medic but like a seasoned gymnast Ratchet launched himself off of the lawn, twisting in midair to avoid the sweeping strike from the warrior's staff. The CMO landed gracefully, one leg stretched out, the other bent to accommodate his weight, and swept his staff in a quick and graceful arch, effectively swiping the frontliner's legs out from under him. The younger landed on his back with a hollow, echoing 'thud.'
"That's cheating!" Sideswipe wheezed, attempting to regain his breath as he rolled to his knees. "That move is sneaky."
"It is effective," Ratchet responded simply. He swung his staff in a half circle, taking a deep breath as Sideswipe scrambled to his feet to retaliate and before Mikaela could blink they were at it again.
As Sideswipe swung a heavy blow, Ratchet widened his grip and turned the staff downward in his palms, blocking the frontliner's strike as it landed upon his own weapon. They came to a relative standstill, both pushing forward and neither willing to give, their faces inches away from each other as they pushed, arms quivering with the tremendous effort of pitting strength against strength.
"Getting slower in your old age, Hatchet?" Sideswipe taunted with a toothy grin.
Ratchet growled wordlessly, shoving Sideswipe away with all of his strength and barely retaining an answering grin when the cocky Autobot warrior stumbled and nearly fell flat on his aft.
Sideswipe regained his balance and sprung forward quicker than Ratchet could recollect himself, landing a harsh blow to the back of the medic's recently-healed leg, bringing him to one knee with grimace and a grunt of pain, but the CMO was back up again quickly. Sideswipe swung a second time, aiming another punishing blow at his shoulder and missing as the elder rolled to his feet, swinging his staff outward to block the forceful blow from the frontliner. They continued in this manner for another five minutes, dizzying Mikaela with their acrobatic display, the sharp sounds of connecting weapons bouncing off the forest around the cabin.
Finally, just as it seemed they were beginning to slow, Ratchet landed a light hit to the side of Sideswipe's ribcage, distracting him as he brought his staff down on the frontliner's left shoulder hard, the dull sound of the impact making Mikaela wince and rub her own shoulder in sympathy. The Autobot warrior staggered forward, thrown off balance, and Ratchet took the opportunity to widen his stance, plant his feet firmly at shoulder's width and swing his staff around to connect with the back of both of Sideswipe's knees and send the younger crashing to the ground with a yelp of pain and surprise.
Sideswipe groaned, wincing, and rolled over from his side and onto his back to find Ratchet looming over him, the end of his staff pressed into his sternum.
"Concede," the CMO said evenly, his chest heaving with exertion and perspiration trailing down his temple.
Sideswipe's mouth fell open and for a moment Mikaela thought he had been about to argue, but a grin blossomed across his face and he held his hands up in defeat. "I concede."
The CMO stepped back, pulling the staff away from the frontliner and swinging it around to the side.
"You haven't lost your touch, Hatchet," Sideswipe said honestly as Ratchet helped him to his feet with a slight scowl. "Human form or otherwise."
"That was seriously impressive," Mikaela said, jogging up to stand between them. "Both of you. Ratchet, I can't see how you can say we are unprepared to fight back after that display of skill."
"I am afraid it will take more than just a little battle prowess for us to be prepared for what is to come, Mikaela," Ratchet said tightly, activating the compression feature and letting the quarterstaff shrink back to its smaller size before turning on his heel and stalking somewhat irritably back into the cabin.
The back door shut with a decisive snap and Mikaela sighed, shoulders slumping as her arms fell limply to her sides and her head fell forward with a growl of defeat. She was vaguely aware of Sideswipe's holo kicking an unsuspecting pine cone clear across the back lawn with an angry grunt in a similar display of frustration.
This was going to be a pain in the ass.
Though it turned out, as things often do, to be something that was out of any of their hands and only a day went by before fate once again stepped in to intervene and the decision was made for them.
The next afternoon saw Mikaela and Ratchet sitting, relatively quietly at the small kitchen table underneath the window, listening intently to the heavy rain that buffeted the roof of the house and the woodland it was surrounded by. Thunder rumbled overhead and Mikaela shivered.
"Go fish," she mumbled, rearranging the cards for what must have been the hundredth time.
Ratchet simply glowered at her. "No."
"What?" Mikaela laughed. "What do you mean 'no'…? It's not an option, Ratchet. I don't have the card, now you have to draw from the big deck."
Ratchet opened his mouth to retort but was cut off when the back door was thrown open forcefully enough for it to bang against the wall. Sideswipe's holo stumbled over the threshold and Ratchet jumped to his feet with a hard look in the direction of the frontliner.
"What is it?" he demanded.
"Optimus," Sideswipe said, breathless. "I just received a comm from Optimus."
Thick silence fell and Mikaela threw a sidelong glance at Ratchet, eyes wide.
"Well?" the CMO prompted impatiently.
"He's calling all Autobots to him," the holo breathed, eyes lighting up in excitement. "We are to rally and fight!"
