Return to the Light

Bee came out of defrag before the siblings. Snuggling tighter against the still form of Droct, he listened to the muffled conversations of the other garbage mechs that were still hiding within the network of tunnels. It seemed that this happened fairly regularly to them, but the garbage mechs seemed to blindly accept the fact that they were considered nothing more than worthless vermin by the other mech groups.

Tears again filled the half-primed mech's optics. Not only for the weakness within him, but for the unfairness of Droct's world. He felt partially to blame, for he was an Autobot, and even they turned a blind optic to the plight of the garbage mechs.

Shame flowed through him. Now he knew that he was the most pathetic of mechs. For Droct had nothing, had had no one – yet he was so strong that he continued on day-after-day in his personal quest to try and make life better for those less fortunate than himself. Yes, Droct was better than the best of the Autobots. He was a better warrior than Prime himself! Droct fought an enemy that no Autobot had truly faced – he fought hopelessness.

Running his fingers along the distorted armor plating of the sleeping garbage mech, Bee wondered if he could ever truly pay Droct back for all he had done. Even if he was able to talk Optimus into offering the garbage mech a position in the Autobot ranks, would Droct accept it? If he did, would the other Autobots ever realize that the ugly mech was truly better than any one of them?

Lost in his thoughts, Bee was slowly tracing circles on his friend's armor. His fingertips felt something wet. Coming swiftly back to reality, Bee wished it wasn't pitch black in these tunnels! For now he was forced to use his sense of touch to figure out why Droct's shoulder was wet.

Probing gently with his fingers, he felt fresh damage to Droct's armor. The garbage mech groaned softly as he re-activated in response to the pain stimulus. Bee felt Droct's other hand curl around his probing fingers and force them away.

"Now, now, don't be worrying 'bout me Yellow. I've had worse," his soft voice told Bee.

Shaking his head, Bee again reached towards the damaged section, wanting Droct to know that he was, indeed, worried.

"Shhh, I was just a little slow in getting underground, that's all. It's just surface damage. I'll be fine," Droct said as he grabbed Bee's fingers again.

Bee sagged sadly against the damaged mech. He knew why Droct had been slow to hide. It was because Bee had freaked out, and Droct wouldn't leave him out there! So it was all his fault that the mech had taken a hit.

"Now don't go blaming yourself Yellow. It's mine, I just didn't spot the Seekers soon enough."

Again the mech apologized for something that was totally not his fault! Bee wished he'd just quit doing that, because this time it was Bee's fault! Plain and simple!

Muffled shouts were heard coming down from the surface tunnels.

"Well, all's clear," Droct said. Stretching his undamaged arm over Bee, he tapped his sister's helm to get her to re-activate.

She moved against Bee's back as she re-activated. Feeling the little mech still pressed against her, she patted him comfortingly. "So you doing a little better Yellow?" she asked.

Bee nodded, but grabbed her hand that was patting him and directed it towards Droct's damaged shoulder. As his sister's fingers touched him, Droct tried to bat them away.

"I've already told Yellow that I'm fine," he said.

"Well, obviously he doesn't think so, and I agree with him. So when we get back home, you are going to sit still and let us look you over!" T'ran's voice was firm.

Bee grinned, because from the tone of her voice, she was quite used to dealing with Droct wanting to avoid being center of attention. Kind've reminded him of Ratchet and Ironhide back home.

Slowly they peeled themselves apart from each other, and began to carefully crawl through the cramped tunnels. Following T'ran blindly, Bee thought he could hear Droct trying to conceal his grunts of pain as he brought up the rear. Frowning, the little mech tapped T'ran to slow down.

"He's always like this. Freagin' stubborn when he gets hurt and never lets us spend the funds or time to repair him right!" T'ran whispered to Bee. "He's always broke because he's repairing you mechs. Nothing against you, Yellow," she sighed. "He just never thinks of himself, that's all. And it's frustrating!"

Bee nodded his agreement and patted her back. He could sense her smile as she understood what he meant.

They moved on as Droct finally caught up.

----

The tunnel slowly began to brighten as they neared the surface. Finally, the entrance to the tunnel came in sight! The three poked their heads above the surface of the dump, just as a few dozen other garbage mechs poked theirs up. Scanning warily around like a bunch of Prairie Dogs looking for Coyotes. Satisfied that the con shuttle had indeed left and thus, the coast was clear. The garbage mechs all flooding out of their holes and went back to their scavenging.

T'ran helped Droct out of the tunnel, and both she and Bee looked at each other in dismay. Droct had lied when he said it was just surface damage, for his entire right shoulder assembly had taken a direct hit. Now, his arm just dangled by a few linkages, completely useless.

"Slag it Droct, why the hell did you lie about your damage?" T'ran asked as she put her hands on her hips and glared at her brother.

He just shrugged his other shoulder, "It's nothing," he stated dismissively, and made like he was going to start working again, not even bothering to get repaired.

Bee crossed his arms, matching T'ran's glare at Droct, and frowned. Making sure that his agreement with the femme was obvious.

Droct looked from one to the other. "Not you too Yellow?"

Bee nodded. Grabbing Droct's good arm, he began to drag the reluctant mech towards their shack. He heard T'ran snickering as she followed them along. Turning his head to look at her, she gave him a wink and an approving smile. Bee's core lightened a little bit, for now he could at least start paying Droct back – by holding him down so that T'ran could repair him properly!

---

"So when ya'll gonna let us out of this fraggin slag-hole?" Ironhide drawled. He swung his legs over the side of his berth as he gave Ratchet an expectant look.

Ratchet leveled a steely glare at the red mech. He and Wheeljack had decided that the best way to do this was to convince their two patients that HEY had managed to sweet talk their way out of the psych unit. And for one, Ratchet was going to have some 'fun' and make Ironhide and Inferno beg really hard! "Who said we are?"

"But you can't leave us freagin' locked up forever!" Inferno exclaimed in dismay. He looked up at Ratchet with imploring optics.

The tough medic shrugged as he handed them their ration of energon. "Both of you are considered a possible danger to the troops. So just why in Cybertron would we want you running amuck?" he challenged.

Inferno sighed unhappily as he took the offered cube. "But I'm not!" he muttered. He glanced back up at the medic, tears filling his optics. "All I ever wanted to do was fight fires Ratchet – that's all! Can't they let me do that again?"

"Ratchet's just being hard on us, that's all. They don't really think we're dangerous," Ironhide said. He took a big sip of the energon, his optics boring into Ratchet. They'd trained together back at the academy. So surely Ratchet really wasn't being serious and all. They were old classmates – right?

Ratchet swelled up, put his hands on his hips and glared at Ironhide. "I might be able to convince them to let him leave – but you?" he snorted, " There's a certain Prowl that would be sure to show up at the medical review board and discuss his opinion of your fellow soldiers safety around you."

"Awwww, he'll come 'round. Was just a simple misunderstanding – that's all," Ironhide shrugged. But inside, he had to admit that he was a tad worried. After all, he had tried to go THROUGH the freager when they'd gotten into it. Maybe he should consider apologizing to the mech?

Rolling his optics, the medic rapped him on his helm with a wrench that Ironhide hadn't even spotted.

"Ouch! Did you have to go and whack me?!?" the red mech exclaimed as he tumbled off of his berth. He landed at Ratchet's peds with a loud clang. His first thought was to get up and start way-laying the medic for the sneak-whack, but common sense prevailed. He needed the medic's favorable opinion in order to get out of this freagin' psycho ward! So instead of paying him back, he grabbed his helm and rolled around the floor as if the whack had been ten times harder than it actually had been.

The act didn't fool Ratchet, but it sure did fool Inferno. The fire engine dropped his energon cube and slid off his berth, ending up kneeling next to the groaning and cussing Ironhide. He put his arms on his shoulder armor, trying to gauge the amount of damage done. But the mech's hands were in the way. So gauging it's severity by Ironhide's reaction, Inferno looked up at Ratchet. "You've damaged him! Aren't you going to fix it???" he demanded as he put his arms protectively around Ironhide.

Ratchet snorted, "Yea I'll fix it." With that, he whacked the red mech again. This time even harder, since he had a much better angle of attack!

"Why you little white-painted rust bucket, I'm gonna so-" Ironhide leapt up, his optics glaring at the medic.

Wheeljack cut him off. "You're gonna what? Suck his cable so that he'll be nice enough to recommend that you two get released?" The inventor gave the ticked off mech a smirk as he leaned against the closed door.

"Ya're such a slaggin' smart aft – why don't you do it? I've heard about you two in the wash bays," Ironhide shot back. He wasn't into mechs, everyone who knew him – knew that! And the Inventor was part of that list.

Wheeljack snickered, his optics bright with mischief. "Perhaps if you were in an apparent relationship, we could argue that you were finally showing some emotional stability." His optics went from Ironhide to Inferno and back, making it obvious that he meant for them to engage in that 'relationship'.

"You've got to be kidding! Why I never…" Ironhide got up with a huff, pushing Inferno away from him.

"Shut up Ironhide. Maybe he's got a point," the fire engine said as he cut him off.

Ratchet glanced back at his bond mate, wondering just where he was going with this. Did Wheeljack really think he'd get the two lonely mechs to hook up like that?

Wheeljack grinned behind his face mask and shrugged. "Both of you are notorious loners. Both of you got attached to young mechs you'd been training. Both of you went freagin' glitched when they off lined. Perhaps if it looked like you two were moving on – Prowl would be convinced to give you a second chance?"

So that's where he was going with it. Ratchet grinned to himself as he nodded. "Sure looked like you two were possibly interested in each other on that video tape we've got."

"Long as we happen to edit out that little aft-whooping part," Wheeljack agreed.

Ironhide and Inferno locked optics, both of them not really thrilled with the idea of masquerading around as a dating couple. But the alternative of being stuck in here for a rather extensive period – was far less appealing. "Well, uh, slag it," Ironhide grumbled. He shifted uncomfortably from one ped to the other.

Inferno looked equally as uncomfortable as he glanced from medics to Ironhide. "Yea, ditto on that," he mumbled.

Wheeljack grinned as he patted both of them on their shoulder plates. "Well, we'll be back at the end of our shift to collect you two then."

"What are you talkin' 'bout?" Ironhide demanded to know.

The white medic's optics gleamed in merriment. It was going to be so fun to force the stubborn mech to play this game! "For the double date," he explained.

"Do what?!?" The energon cube that Ironhide had just picked back up almost slipped from his hand again. He barely managed to catch it in time, juggling it for a moment as he did so.

Ratchet elbowed Wheeljack as he walked out the door. "Yep, you know we have to make several observations before we can write an accurate report concerning your growing relationship and attachment to each other," the inventor said with a snicker. "Oh, and by the way, any good juicy video we get will help prove your case."

The door slid closed behind him before the two stunned mechs could even think of a reply.

"Now what did we just get ourselves into?" Inferno asked as he sat down. Grabbing his cube up again, he stared down into the swirling glow as he tried to fully understand everything.

With a thud, Ironhide plopped himself back down onto his berth as well. He looked over at the taller mech sitting down across from him. "Yea, just what in the slag was that all about," he muttered as he took a big sip.

Inferno coughed a bit as he took a swig that was just a tad too much. Wiping the excess energon that was dripping down his chin, he shook his head slightly. "So we've got to get everyone to believe we're a couple – before the darned medics will give us a clean bill of health," he muttered.

"Yea, sure sounds like that. Of all the cockamaney ideas I've ever heard Wheeljack come up with!" Ironhide finished his sentence with a gigantic gulp of high-grade.

Nodding his agreement, Inferno took another swig. "Wished we could've talked them into leaving more high-grade," he mumbled.

"Why's that?" Ironhide swished his around, watching it swirl into a multicolored blend.

Chuckling, Inferno took another swig. "Because it would take at least three of these – before your rusty tail pipes would look good."

Almost spitting out the mouthful he had, Ironhide barely swallowed in time. "Do what? Heck, it'd take four before you'd even been passable," he shot back.

And so the conversation continued…..

-----

Wheeljack chuckled as he leaned back and watched the pair on the viewer. "I bet it'd only take one more for each one – and they'd breakdown and kiss," he snickered.

Circling his mate with his arms, Ratchet leaned over his shoulder. "I'll take your bet. I say three each."

With his mate nuzzling his thin skinned neck, Wheeljack giggled like a sparkling. "So what's the loser got to do?" he joked.

"Mmmmmm, whatever the winner wants to for a night," Ratchet purred as he continued to tease him.

That sure sounded like a wonderful bet. "Deal," he said as he snuggled into Ratchet's embrace…

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