LeavesofMyself: Well, I'm back. Unfortunately, everything regarding my Starscream ABC's, which featured short tidbits that either advanced or had been related to "Chapter 1," "Detached," "Mockery," and "Bare" is forever lost. When I copied my Documents over to my external hard-drive, not everything copied correctly, which resulted in a massive loss of much needed work, both for this story and other things (i.e. school). So, for the time being, the continuation of the above mentioned storyline is currently on hiatus until I can manage to put something together. However, I'm not going to stop updating due to this minor setback. The "Heat" series seems to be doing well, so I intend to continue with that until I can manage to write a continuation chapter for "Chapter 1" etc. that I am pleased with.
Furthermore, if you have not read my bio, I have decided to move any and all future MA+ chapters over to (I got by the same pen name: LeavesofMyself). This means that any and all future chapters will be censored for this site. I'm doing this to prevent my account from being banned due to the crackdown on extremely explicit material. Please respect my decision.
Now then, let's get on with it.
A/N: This chapter can be found, unedited, on my account.
Chapter Warning(s): Mentions of explicit material, some Sticky!, and suggestive themes.
Chapter Rating: M
Pairing(s): Ratchet/?; mentions of Ultra Magnus/Optimus Prime and Jazz/Prowl. (Set in Animated universe)
Units of Time
Astrosecond = ~.273 seconds
Kilk = 1.2 minutes
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Solar Cycle: 1 day
Orn = 13 days
Groon: ~1 hour
Stellar Cycle: ~7.5 months or 1 year
Ratchet sighed as he eased into his office chair as white servos pressed against the sides of his helm in a desperate attempt to ease the processor ache that had been brewing there for the past orn. Grumbling underneath his breath, Ratchet reached into his desk, harshly pulling the false bottom of one of the drawers out and grabbing, with greedy servos, one of the stashed high grades he had confiscated from Bulkhead and Bumblebee during one of their more outrageous 'parties.' Without hesitation, Ratchet downed four large gulps, wincing a bit as the potent concoction hit his empty tanks, burning his insides on the way down. Ratchet rolled his shoulders as he relaxed into his chair, sighing as he starred vacantly into his chosen poison, optics dulling as the high grade began to filter throughout his systems.
Primus he needed this. It had been a long orn since he returned to the Autobot base. As it turns out, the brief amount of time the Autobots spent in the presence of Megatron triggered something akin to a sympathetic heat cycle. Despite the warlord's own cycle being in a brief hiatus, it seems that the others' systems were able to detect the online breeding protocols currently circulating through the grey mech's frame, thusly initiating their own protocols.
Ratchet still couldn't burn the image of Bumblebee, sweet, innocent (in his own way) Bumblebee splayed out on the couch, his gorgeous yellow thighs gaped open and his small servo pumping four fingers into his dripping port, his usually mischievous blue optics glazed over in frantic lust, sugary sweet moans pouring from his vocalizer… Ratchet shuddered in both lust at the wonderful sight and in repulsion for even thinking of their youngest member in such a way. Ratchet gulped down another large portion of his high grade in a desperate attempt to forget the scout's image.
Ratchet offlined his optics, his memory core shifting through the various occurrences of his team mates splayed in wanton positions as each of them tried to, in vain, rid their systems of their building charges. Ratchet, the only one to be unaffected by his teams' sympathetic heat cycles, had barricaded himself in his medbay, the doors triple locked with codes that only he possessed. While it had been highly tempting to simply ravish his team mates and rid them of their heat, he couldn't bring himself to let go of his old fashioned ways… Plus, the mechs of his team had grown to become something of a family to him and he just couldn't picture pleasuring Bumblebee without the overwhelming sense of 'wrongness' that plagued his processor at the mere thought.
The orn only got worse. Turns out, the Elite Guard decided to check up on the Earth bound team. Yeah, that had gone over well.
Ratchet snorted in amusement as he recalled the look of confusion and sheer horror on Ultra Magnus's face-plates as Optimus, who had wandered into the room, threw himself onto his superior, his engines purring seductively as he gyrated against the shocked commander's frame.
It had taken nearly a breem for Ratchet to pull a dejected and thrashing Prime off of the Magnus long enough to explain the current situation, though he left out the fact that it had been Megatron who had started everything. He figured he would let his commander assume that it had been one of the Autobots who had triggered the sympathetic heats. He hadn't been sure of why he had felt the need to leave Megatron's name out of this, pit, he still didn't know, but he did know that the thought of revealing Megatron's predicament left a bad aftertaste on his glossa and churned his tanks.
Ratchet onlined his optics, frowning as the medbay echoed with the loud, pleasured cries that distinctively sounded like Prowl. That was another thing that had surprised the medic, it turns out that though Prowl was a quiet mech in general, he was quite the opposite in the berth. The sounds were faint; the thick walls of the medbay dampening the impact but that didn't stop the wanton sounds from drifting to Ratchet's audios. The red and white medic shifted uncomfortably, his own systems heating as muffled pleas bounced around the quiet medbay, making the moans seem louder than they actually were. Soft pleas of "faster" and "Jazz" surrounded Ratchet in a cocoon of sheer lust, causing the medic's cooling fans to kick on and his spike to harden.
Growling in annoyance, Ratchet chugged the last of the high grade in one go before reaching into the drawer and downing half of another cube. He needed to get intoxicated so he could pass out, and judging by the second loud cries of what had to be Prime joining in the chorus, he need to pass out quickly.
That had been the worst part of this whole orn. He had to listen to his team mate's be ravished or ravish others, depending on their protocols demands, with no relief for himself. It made Ratchet want to pound his helm into the closest cement wall so he didn't have to deal with the pent up frustration.
Ratchet quickly finished off his second cube of high grade and was reaching for his third when he heard it… A faint but audible 'click' and soft hissing sounds as the medbay's door hydraulics engaged and slide open. Ratchet stiffened, apprehension seeping through his circuitry as he quickly swirled to face the invading mech, wishing he hadn't as his stabilizing gyros were thrown off balance from the sudden motion and the amount of potent grade energon circulating through his system. Ratchet's vision blurred, his systems entering vertigo as his stabilizers fought to maintain his balance and keep him from crashing unceremoniously to the floor. Several kilks later, Ratchet's vision focused, the swirling image of the mech in front of him centering.
The medic canted his head in confusion as Sentinel Prime stood before him. Ratchet growled out in annoyance, his processor ache beginning to resurface in full force.
"What do you want, kid? I'm busy," Ratchet barked as he glared at the mech before it. Sentinel, in response, only moved towards the medic, his narrow blue hips swaying seductively as he closed in on his target. Hazed optics widen in surprise as it dawned on the medic just 'what' the Prime wanted. With unbalanced steps, Ratchet hastily moved back in attempt to widen the narrowing gap between himself and the intruder.
Unfortunately, Ratchet backed right into his desk, the large metal rattling from the force but otherwise sat unmoved from its current position in the room. The medic scrambled, his processor trying to fight through the haze of high grade to come up with… something to deter the other mech but alas, nothing came to mind.
Sentinel came to a halt in front of the red and white ambulance, his frame leaning in towards the others as he rested grey servos on white shoulders, just over the red emblem before he shoved, sending the medic tumbling onto the desk. Ratchet yelled out in surprise, unprepared for Sentinel's brazen movement. Sentinel climbed onto of the medic, straddling the mech's waist.
Ratchet, caught off guard, could only stare at the Prime as he leaned down, his hot frame making his own shudder with suppressed lust, his spike, hard from the earlier cries of his team mates, pressurized more, pressing against his cover. Sentinel purred at his captive's response, his own frame tingling with want and uncontrollable need.
Sentinel opened his mouth a licked the chevron on Ratchet's helm, feeling the medic shift underneath him. Ratchet stifled a groan, his frame heating up more as his mind hazed from the growing tension and high grade.
In attempt to escape from the mech above him, Ratchet grabbed the Prime's narrow hips and sat up, forcing the mech away from his frame but not completely as, in retaliation, grey servos held tightly onto his shoulder plating, refusing to budge no matter how hard the medic shoved. Growing desperate, Ratchet began to ramble.
"Don't you have someone else you can… bother?"
Sentinel paused in his struggle to get back to the tempting red chevron, his helm tilting to the side as if contemplating the medic's question before answering with a simple, "No."
"What about Ultra Magnus?" Ratchet huffed, his desire beginning to win against his stubbornness, especially with the way Sentinel began to rotate his hips against his spike covering, sending sparks of tingling pleasure up his spinal strut.
"He's busy." Sentinel began to rock against the red and white mech, cherishing the rush of excitement and lust that traveled through his valve, engorging his already swelled spark.
"I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you joined…." Ratchet was cut off as Sentinel grabbed his servo and brought one of his digits to his hot mouth. A squeak of surprise left the medic as Sentinel took the sensitive appendage into his mouth, swirling his glossa over the digit with expertise before sucking nosily, moaning in content as he continued to rock his frame against the others.
"Primus…" Ratchet mumbled as he took in the sensations sparking from his digit, the oversensitive nodes firing off continuously as Sentinel continued to worship it. Without realizing it, Ratchet's red hips pushed up into blue, causing the mech above him to keen in delicious pleasure.
The medic's audios drank up the delicious sound even as his processor fought on in a vain attempt to dislodge the Prime from his lap.
"Sentinel," Ratchet paused, reaching up with a white servo to grasp the trembling mech's chin and tilt it up, forcing lustful optics to meet his own, "You need to stop this. You don't know what you're doing. You're under the effects of a sympathetic heat cycle…" Ratchet trailed off as the sharp sound of Sentinel's port covering opening echoed off the thick medbay walls, the sweet smell of lubricant and heat wafting to his sensors, thrusting him into a haze and his processor began to succumb to the mech's demanding heat.
Sentinel grabbed the fighting mech's servo once more, trailing the hand down his frame, sensual optics watching as the medic froze, his own optics watching his servo slip further down the Prime's frame before being manipulated and pressed against the other's valve. Ratchet groaned, his optics brightening with want even as his processor screamed logical reasons of why this should stop. Sentinel mewled, rocking his frame against the servo in a desperate attempt to ease the ache in his valve. Spreading his thighs wider, Sentinel locked optics with Ratchet as he manipulated one of the medic's digits to push inside his valve, his mouth opening as a moan of absolute bliss escaped him.
Ratchet's resolve caved.
Sentinel groaned as he shifted, a hiss escaping his vocalizer as a burning pain laced through his valve from the movement. Allowing another groan to drift into the air, Sentinel slowly onlined his optics, confusion stretching across his features as he found himself in a private room of the medbay. The young Prime moved to sit up but stop short when the ache in his lower regions flared up, his body quickly sagging back into the metallic surface in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort.
"Primus…" Sentinel whimpered as he tried countless times to access the recent files in his processor, his thoughts plagued by what had happened. Sentinel was only able to remember bits and pieces, his processor unable to conjure up specifics. He remembered his frame beginning to burn and fiery lust caused him to collapse in the hallway near the medbay. He can remember overriding the codes to the medbay in the hopes of demanding the medic to give him something for his current problem and after that… he could only recall sensations. The tingling pleasure of another frame scrapping against his, a dominating growl seducing his audios, the stinging pain of his seal breaking…. Wait…
Sentinel shot up in the berth, the sudden movement causing the ache in his valve to become a searing pain. A loud cry echoed off the medbay wall. Prime's vents heaved from both the pain and the realization that… someone had broken his seal. He had laid submissive to someone and for the life of him he couldn't even recall who it was. Sentinel was torn between raging through the base until he found the mech and smashing his faceplates into the closest solid object or curling up into a pitiful ball of self-loathing.
The young Prime had prided himself on his seal, if meant his valve was untouched, unclaimed by anyone else. It proved to his subordinates that he was the epitome of mech-ly-ness. No one dominated him. No one. It was why he was so much better than Optimus, why he was still a part of the Elite Guard and the wash-up wasn't. He was a mech. A femme's man. Until now that is.
Sentinel growled, the sound resonating from deep within his frame, his optics narrowing in anger. When he found the mech who stole his… masculinity… Another dangerous snarl escaped the mech, his servos gouging at the metal berth, the blunt tips of his fingers leaving faint scratches in the shiny surface.
Heavy footsteps headed towards his private section, the curtain around his medical berth was pulled back as Ratchet entered, his bored optics taking in his patient before huffing to himself. Sentinel's angry optics snapped towards the medic and for some reason, he wanted to shove his fist into those bored faceplates over and over again…
"Finally awake, princess?" Ratchet asked as he closed the curtain behind him and walked to the stand sitting next to the berth. Sentinel sneered in return but it failed to elicit any sort of reaction from the otherwise grumpy medic. Narrowed optics watched as white servos opened a small cylindrical container, no bigger than the Prime's own pinky, before tipping the contents into the energon cube. Ratchet picked up the cube and swirled it gently, watching as the chemicals mixed with the energon, turning the vibrant pink into a dulled bubblegum shade. Once the ambulance was satisfied, Ratchet picked up the cube and handed towards the silently fuming mech on his medical berth.
Sentinel snorted before knocking the medic's servo away from his frame, his optics weary watching the contents of the cube slosh about from the force, some of the darker liquid splashing out to fall into a puddle on the floor. Ratchet rolled his optics at the young mech's childish antics, before he set the cube on the stand.
"You need to drink that." Ratchet said gruffly as he crossed his arms in front of the glass window on his chassis. Sentinel growled.
"Don't tell me what to do." Sentinel whined back, his vocalizer fritzing as his words cracked with static.
Ratchet frowned, his frame moving closer to the berth in order to inspect the blue mech's vocalizer but Sentinel's snarl kept him in place, the medic refusing to irritate the Prime further.
"What crawled up your tailpipe?" Ratchet snorted back, his patience wearing thin despite his best efforts.
"Nothing." Sentinel growled out, shifting his frame to get up from the berth in an attempt to get far away from the infuriating mech in from of him. Ratchet quickly thwarted his attempt as he grasped the Prime's orange shoulders, surprisingly gently, and pushed his weary frame back onto the berth. Sentinel let out an indignant cry as he was forced into lying on his back.
"Get your filthy servos off me, medic. I'll have you court marshaled for this!" Sentinel all but yelled, but the medic simple ignored his protests in favor of moving toward Sentinel's legs, beginning to place one in the stirrups attached to the metal berth. Realizing what was happening, sentinel kicked the red and white mech in the chin, causing the ambulance to pull back with a shout of surprise and anger.
"I said don't touch me." Sentinel warned his optics narrowing in rage.
"If you don't calm down, I'm going to pump you so full of sedatives; you'll be out for a stellar cycle!" Ratchet hissed as he forcefully grabbed the young mech's leg and slammed it into the stirrup. Sentinel blinked his optic coverings, thoroughly confused at the lack of promised physical harm in the medic's threat. Shaking off the twisting sensation in his tanks, Sentinel opted for sulking and snarling as the medic arranged his frame.
When finished, Ratchet looked back up at the brooding mech with an expectant look in his optics but Sentinel played dumb. Sighing in frustration, Ratchet swore he could feel another processor ache coming on.
"Just open your valve covering," Ratchet said as he rubbed a servo over tired optics. Sentinel snorted but refused to give into the medic's demand. Fed up with the younglings ridiculous behavior, Ratchet reached forward and felt around the valve covering, slightly relishing in the squawk of muddled pleasure and surprise that escaped from the young Prime. A moment later, Ratchet managed to press against Sentinel's medical override switch and the valve covering opened with a soft click.
Ratchet, ignoring the way the blue Prime protested, pushed a digit into the dry port, frowning at the young mech's wince and barely suppressed whimper of pain. Ratchet scolded himself for not being more careful the previous solar cycle, angry at his self for causing this level of discomfort in his berth partner, even if it was Sentinel. Sighing, Ratchet carefully withdrew his finger before opening the private curtains and stalking off to a nearby medical cabinet, leaving the still fuming, but now confused, mech on the berth. Several kilks went by before Ratchet hummed in victory, walking back towards the thoroughly confused Prime, his servo holding onto a long needle and a small bottle.
"This will ease the ache in your valve," Ratchet explained as he filled the needle and then placed the almost empty bottle on the stand. Moving the needle towards Sentinel's valve, he was paused in his efforts by a pede to the face.
"What the frag do you think you're doing with that?!" Sentinel squeaked as he eyed the needle in apprehension.
Huffing in annoyance, Ratchet removed the dark, navy blue pede from his faceplate, his optic twitching in suppressed rage. Ratchet forced his vents to suck in a large gulp of air before he opened his mouth to speak.
"I'm going to administer a sedative."
"Too my valve?!" Sentinel yelled as he scooted further up the berth in a vain attempt to escape.
"Yes. It needs to be administered to the valve lining in order to optimize its effects," Ratchet hissed.
"Well, get me a different sedative! You're not coming anywhere… OW!" Sentinel cried out as Ratchet held the young mech still and stuck the needle into the sore valve and quickly emptied the contents before Sentinel even know what was happening. The medic pulled the needle out and held it up, a smirk of victory crossing his faceplates as he watched, with amusement, as Sentinel's mouth opened and closed in both surprise and rage.
"I swear I'll have you're…"
"Feel better?" Ratchet said, effectively cutting off the irate mech before he could go off into a tangent.
Sentinel blinked his optics as he shifted his lower body from side to side, experimenting but finding no pain. Begrudgingly, Sentinel nodded, sneering at Ratchet's amusement.
"Good. Now drink your cube. You need the extra additive in your condition."
Sentinel paused in his silent sulking, his optics snapping up to the uninterested medic who was watching him with dulled optics.
"Condition? What condition?"
Ratchet sighed, knowing he had no choice but to tell the mech. The red and white mech desperately wanted a cube of potent high grade.
"What condition?" Sentinel bit out, impatient at the medic's hesitancy.
"There's no easy way to tell you this, kid, so I'm gonna be blunt," Ratchet started, watching as the young Prime tensed in apprehension, his own spark twisting at the mech's predicament, "You're sparked."
Sentinel was quiet for a moment, his optics doubling in size as the information sunk in, his vents hitching, stuck between a sob of pure horror and a scream. A breem went by before Sentinel was able to ground out, his voice soft and shaking.
"W-what?"
Ratchet sighed, once again rubbing a servo over his optics. He moved his tired frame to sit beside the distraught Prime, a servo reaching out to take the Prime's own limp one.
"You heard me, youngling." Ratchet whispered softly, all previous irritation at the Prime vanishing as he watched the youngling breakdown. Soft whimpers of fear escaped the young mech as fluid built up in his optics, his frame shaking as anxiety built up in his spark. Ratchet flinched, not sure how to handle the mech in front of him. He was expecting shouting, rage, and even a vindication to hunt down the mech (him) responsible but not tears. He was fully unprepared for that and it showed as the Prime quietly curled in on himself, his plating pulled tight to his body as soft cries echoed in the medbay.
Ratchet gently pulled on the Prime until the youngling gave in and allowed him to be pulled against the broad red and white frame. Ratchet sat there for nearly a groon as the young Prime sobbed out his sorrows onto the older mech's frame. Finally, Sentinel pulled away, his optics bright with fear as he looked at his twisting servos.
"Do you know…?" Sentinel mumbled, trailing off as a fresh round of sobs began to escape his scratchy vocalizer.
"You're looking at 'em." Ratchet said, watching as Sentinel paused once more, his optics locking onto his own.
"What? You?" Sentinel questioned his voice small.
Ratchet could only nod, his processor screaming that he was an afthead, that he should have pulled out and never finished inside the young Prime, but… That was in the past now. Now he had to face the consequences.
Only Ratchet didn't expect the consequences to slam into his face, sending his broad frame crashing to the floor. Ratchet looked up, shock clear as day on his faceplates as Sentinel leaned over the berth a sneer twisting his still anguished features.
"You?! You did this?! I'll have you court marshaled!" Sentinel sneered, rage forcing his optics to bleed indigo. Ratchet quickly got back to his pedes, his arm barely coming up to block the servo aimed at his faceplates.
"Calm down." Ratchet hissed as he narrowly avoided another punch.
"Calm down? Calm down?! I'll show you calm down!" Sentinel growled as he jumped up from his berth, his fists flying wildly at the medic's frame, not caring what part of Ratchet he hit, just as long as he hit him.
Ratchet dodged the attacks; his processor racing as he tried to calm the irate mech down, knowing that getting this worked up was a bad idea.
"Sentinel, if you don't calm down, you'll seriously hurt the sparkling and yourself." Ratchet yelled, his frame twisting out of range of a fist to his chassis only to run into a kick to his side. Ratchet groaned, the force of the kick denting his plating. Ratchet acted quickly, his servos blocking another well aimed kick for his helm. White servos threw the pede downward, throwing off Sentinel's balance in the process. As the mech tried to re-stabilize himself, Ratchet quickly grabbed the mech and twisted him in his embrace, his servos holding Sentinel's own to his body. Sentinel snarled in anger, twisting his frame and kicking his pedes as the medic immobilized him.
"Get your filthy fragging servos off me!" Sentinel screeched as he pulled against the medic's hold. Ratchet grunted under the mech's efforts but doubled his own, refusing to release the mech until he had calmed down.
"No. You need to calm down." Ratchet growled into the Prime's audios, only to receive a pede to his leg, the sound of metal scrapping metal soundly loudly in both of their audios.
"I'll calm down when you're scrapped!"
Ratchet struggled to hold the youngling as he twisted and pulled all the while yelling in frustration as the medic refused to give even an inch. Minutes ticked by and the Prime wore himself out, his vents heaving for air to cool his hot frame. Ratchet still held onto the Prime, afraid that if he were to let go now, Sentinel would only start up again.
"Are you done?"
Sentinel only sneered but his fatigued frame sagged back into Ratchet's own. The medic sighed and moved over to the berth, sitting the blue mech down on it and backing up for protection. It wasn't need though as Sentinel merely hunched over, his vents still gulping in air, his frame trembling.
"Look… Kid, I'm sorry," Ratchet began but paused as he tried to formulate an apology for… all of this but couldn't, his processor coming up with nothing sufficient to say.
"I don't want your fragging apology, medic." Sentinel sneered, his optics still a dark shard of indigo.
Ratchet sighed, the ache in his processors growing by the astrosecond. "Look, kid, I know you're angry-" Sentinel growled in response, his processor trying to force his exhausted frame to stand, the desire of wanting to show the medic just how angry he was shadowing his judgment,
"But you're going to have to get over it at some point. Your sparked with-" again Ratchet was cut off by the young Prime.
"Not for long. I demand that you remove... this... this parasite from my frame, immediately!" Sentinel hissed, poison dripping from every word. The sheer amount of rage detected in the mech's voice had Ratchet dumfounded, his optics blinking in surprise. Sure, the duo had had many altercations, but Ratchet had figured that the logical course of action would be to place their vast differences aside so they could talk this over. It seems that the Prime wasn't ready to let go of his anger.
"I would hardly call the sparkling a parasite," Ratchet growled back, his own suppressed ire beginning to come forth, "And I have some say in this decision as well. I am the sparkling's sire, after all. Whether you like it or not."
Sentinel let loose a bitter laugh, his optics narrowing in dark humor, "Like slag you do. It's my frame this thing is growing in. And I wasn't asking, medic."
Fists clenching in anger, Ratchet bit back, his voice low and hard, "I refuse to murder my own sparkling, Sentinel-"
"Are you disobeying a direct order, soldier?" Sentinel asked, his optics narrowing further. Ratchet merely humphed and glared at the trembling Prime, his fists aching with the desire to meet the mech's faceplates but his concern for his sparkling's well-being keeping his servos at bay.
"Fine!" a twisted smirk of victory stretched across Sentinel's lips, "I'll just get Red Alert to abort this disgusting thing."
"If you so much as think of harming that sparkling, I'll weld you to the berth until you birth it," Ratchet snarled, his own optics beginning to bleed indigo in pent up rage.
"And what are you going to do, stop me?" Sentinel laughed, his vocalizer grainy, "I'm your superior officer, I can do whatever the frag I want. I don't need your permission to abort this thing inside of me, especially not by some wash-up medic who can't even compete against a fragging key."
Ratchet's optic twitched as his rage became harder and harder to control, "Now you see here, youngling. I have more authority than you think and I'm more than capable of tearing you apart, bolt by bolt."
"And risk harming your precious sparkling?" Sentinel questioned in a mocking tone, before he snorted his feigned amusement, "Don't make me laugh."
"Using that innocent sparkling as a leverage is low, even for you Sentinel." Ratchet hissed.
"Says the rapitst..." Sentinel sneered. Ratchet, taken back by the accusation, growled, the deep, dangerous rumble resonating from deep within his frame and before he could reign in his temper, his servo snuck out and back-handed the young Prime across the faceplates. The medic's processor relished with sick pleasure as the blue frame twisted from the impact, the force behind the blow causing Sentinel to splay across the medical berth. A grey servo reached up and tenderly touched a sore cheek, before burning red optics whipped around to stare into darkening indigo.
"How dare you accuse me of rape." Ratchet all but hissed.
"And what would you call it? Lending me a 'helping servo'?"
Ratchet let his still clenched servo smash into the wall next to him, causing the tense form of the Prime to jump in shock. The loud noise echoed throughout the medbay, and, surely, the base.
"I tried to stop you, but you were the persistent one." Ratchet fired back as he calmed down some.
"I was under the effects of heat. You can hardly fault me for that." Sentinel huffed.
"And I fell victim to your scent. You can hardly fault me for that."
Sentinel growled, turning his optics away from the disgruntled medic. Ratchet, in return, sucked in a deep gulp of the air, sighing as he allowed some of the tension to ease from his rapidly tiring frame. Silence grew thick between the two, one brooding in silent contempt and the other merely waiting for the next round of insults to begin. Ratchet didn't have to wait long.
"Who would have guessed that my first sparkling would be with a wash-out medic who is well past his prime." Sentinel grumbled, more so to himself, but it didn't stop Ratchet from retaliating.
"And I never thought I would have one with a whiny, ungrateful, selfish afthead of a mech, like you."
"You can't talk to me like that! I'm your superior officer." Sentinel barked.
"You say that like it means something." Ratchet huffed, his somewhat relaxed frame easing into a chair next to the medical berth.
"What the slag does that mean?"
"Face it, Sentinel. The only reason your even in the Elite Guard it because Optimus took the fall for your mistake," Ratchet began, taking slight enjoyment out of the widening of the young Prime's optics, "We both know Optimus deserves better than what was handed to him. But you were a coward. You didn't care if you 'threw your best friend under the bus,' as the humans say. You hold no real authority, you should no that by now. Besides, Optimus is a far better mech and Prime than you'll ever be."
Sentinel was floored by the mech's audacity but he couldn't deny that the words didn't hurt. The blue mech felt fluid build up behind his optics as his rage vanished and self-loathing began to bleed in. Furious red optics faded to a dull blue as a choked sob echoed loudly throughout the encompassing silence. Sentinel couldn't take it and shifted his optics away from the medic's growing concern ones.
"Hey, kid... I didn't mean it-" Ratchet began as he watched the other mech slowly begin to crumble. Ratchet mentally slapped himself, his processor yelling at him that he had taken the insults too far.
"Get out." Sentinel whispered. Ratchet hesitated, torn between complying with the mech and wanting to make sure he was okay. The hesitation didn't sit well with Sentinel, as he screamed, desperation hinted in his cracking voice, "Get out!"
"Kid-" Ratchet tried but was met with the forgotten cube of energon being thrown at his helm.
"GET OUT!"
Ratchet sighed but stood and left the private section, closing the curtain behind him. His aged spark clenched in his housing as broken sobs followed him as he exited the medbay.
LeavesofMyself: Well, I hoped you enjoyed!