Bleed Like Me

Universe: Prime

Pairing: RatchetxDrones, GenexProwl

Story Rating: R/MA+

Chapter Rating: MA+

Warnings: Sexual situations.

Description: One day Ratchet shows up without any warning on the Nemesis and living with the Drones no less. When he shows them an ounce of kindness several decide to take him under their wings or wheels without any question as to why he left the Autobots.

My optics were slow to power up, but when they finally did I was temporarily blinded. It had, obviously, been a long time since they had been online. The first thing I noticed was the almost oppressive brightness of the lights above me; then, I smelt the common signs of a medbay. It smelt like sanitizer with some energon mixed in.

The next thing I noticed was the soft sounds coming from not too far away. It sounded like someone was speaking but it was a femme's vocalizer, which was…odd. It wasn't until I heard the combined laugh of the unfamiliar with the familiar lilt of Ratchet's that I got curious enough to sit up.

My arm didn't quite set me up properly though so I clunked back down to my side. I was missing an arm. I looked down at the nub with a pang that went straight through my spark.

"Gabe," I hear the achingly familiar vocalizer whisper as he came closer. "How are you feeling?"

I look up at Ratchet's faceplate and feel my fear disappear. At least Ratchet was alive. I could live without an arm. "What happened to Shockwave?" I ask, allowing him to help me sit up. My equalizer spun wildly but the sturdy medic easily held me there until I adjusted.

Ratchet smiles softly. "Dead."

"Good," I state, glancing up to see a small femme sitting across the room on a stool. She had her blue optics on me but I couldn't say where she was from. This must have been Beta, the femme Ratchet was so worried about being in Shockwave's servos.

The old model follows my gaze and grunts. "Gabe, this is my apprentice and old friend, Beta." I nod and she smiles, seeming a little withdrawn all of a sudden. "She was the one who took out Shockwave."

Now his interest was piqued. This little femme had taken on a monster like Shockwave? To top that all off, she had dents and scratches and new weld marks that he wasn't sure were from the fight or from the flight out here. Ratchet had said she would probably take a huge hit just because it was well known how close she was to the medic.

She looks away from them showing the recently welded blades on her back and on the back of her helm. Yeah, she had taken a heavy hit. He was no medic but he had seen enough wings ripped right out of their owners to know this had been part of her torture. He would rather have his arm cut off than a wing. Grounding a flier was the worst torture.

"How do you feel?" Ratchet asks, taking my attention from the femme. "I'm working on your arm but it's a long progress. I had hoped to get it done before you came back."

Quickly, I wrap my good arm around the mech's shoulders and pull him into my chestplate. He gives an indignant gasp but when I press my faceplate into his neck cables, he relaxes a little. "I'm glad you're okay."

He huffs affectionately, running a servo down my back soothingly. "That's supposed to be my line."

I smile, nibbling at his cables teasingly. "Don't worry about me, Ratch. I'll always be around; you can't get rid of me that easy."

Distantly, I hear the door to the medbay swish open and close again but I was too worried about the tense mech in my arms—arm. He slowly started to relax when it became clear we were alone. "I-I wasn't worried," he stutters but I know better. He worried about us more than we worried about ourselves.

"I know."

I set aside another plasma blaster in its rightful place as I took inventory in the Nemesis' armory. There were a lot of weapons now that the war was officially over. It had been two Earth days that the treaty between the Autobots and Drones was signed so we had no more need for weapons. Actually, the Drones had been more than happy to throw their weapons in my direction when I had mentioned taking inventory.

Now, I was hip deep in a slag mess of weapons. The armory was the largest I had seen since Cybertron had fizzled out completely. Honestly, it was nice…to be doing what I did before the war was…comforting. I hadn't done something like this in thousands of years and it was a welcome change from the normal battles that had seemed to take up my existence.

I was so distracted that the swish of the door made me jump around. I went for the cannon on my arm only to remember that it had already been stashed in the armory of the Autobot base. All I had now was a smaller sized gun that flipped out, aimed right at the small femme that smiled slightly.

"Beta, Primus, shouldn't you still be in the medbay?" I ask, putting away the gun quickly. She looked better, truthfully; her blades were back in place and for the most part her armor was patched up. She still looked scuffed and tired but…we all did.

She looks around at the armory but shrugs. "Ratch said I'm good. I just can't do anything too strenuous," she explains, walking over to look at one of the biggest guns in the armory. It had once belonged to Megatron and I could see the understanding on her recently welded faceplate.

I noticed the slight limp in the leg that had a metal cast wrapped and bolted onto it. That was strut damage so I knew she must still be in some pain. She was good at ignoring it; a talent she had learnt with our crew to hide the fact that she needed repairs. Her and Ratchet were so much alike that I was tempted to think they were true Creator and Sparkling.

"You should be recharging," I state, shaking myself out of my thoughts.

She glances at me over her shoulder and chuckles. "I wouldn't even listen if Ratchet said the same thing. What makes you think I'd listen to an old model such as yourself?"

It was a teasing remark; it was something I hadn't heard from her in…too long. "Hey now, the war may be over but I'm still your superior!" I grunt back, giving as good as I got. Before the war, she had been such a shy and withdrawn femme; now, she was just as tough as the rest of us.

Her faceplate breaks into a smile that crinkles the pliant metal around her optics. It was a smile that I had long forgotten; it was the smile of someone who didn't have to worry about the next battle or where they would get their next cube of energon. We were just a couple of friends having a light conversation full of banter and teases.

"You best be careful, I'll tell Ratch you're straining me!"

I fake shock and horror. "You must have a death wish for me!"

She laughs, helm tilted back and everything. It was the laugh that brought those dangerous emotions up to the surface. They were emotions I could ignore in the war because of everything that helped to distract me. Now, I feared they would begin to fester in how hopeless they were. Not to mention, Beta's age was about half of mine. I had become General around the same time she had been sparked; it was wrong of an old model like myself to be attracted to such a young femme.

I sober a little. She should be with Bumblebee or Smokescreen. They were much closer to her age and much better suitors for her than some old model like me. Now that the war had ended those young 'bots would probably be all over her; slag, some of the Drones might even be in that line. I refused to acknowledge how much it hurt to think about her being held or caressed by somebot else.

"You should go rest," I repeat when I can't find anything safe to say. I turn away but I can see that she noticed the change in my demeanor. She was a good judge of character and her empathy was unparalleled by any 'bot but Ratchet and Prime.

"Ironhide," she whispers, small servo touching my arm. The metal lit on fire where she gently tucked her servo to pull at me until I turned to look at her. "I'm fine, really."

I huffed, ignoring my aching spark. "How can you be?!" I finally shout at the soft, forgiving look on her faceplate. "Primus knows you've been through the Pit and back!"

Her face opens up in shock. "Ironhide—"

"Slag, Beta! Anyone else would be holed up in their quarters for…for…vorns! They wouldn't be able to look at themselves! He-He…Primus…" I wasn't even aware that I had been holding this all in. The fact that she had been interrogated…tortured was very apparent but we had all overheard Drones talking about their Master's unholy attraction to her. Sometimes, at night, while the others recharged, I could hear her screams echoing through the hallways or maybe it was just my imagination; maybe my night cycles had turned dark and I was imaging the medic being violated in the worst possible ways.

She reaches up, standing on the tips of her pedes, to touch my faceplate. "Ironhide, please, don't think like that. If it weren't me then it would be you or Jazz or Perceptor. I couldn't let that happen. I know how to turn off my pain sensors; you don't."

I jerk away, angry at no one but myself. "It should have been me! I'm no medic but I have much thicker metal than you!" I rage, clenching my fists at the fact that I have nothing to take my anger out on. "Jazz is the Third-in-Command and I'm the head of the military! Why didn't he go for us!? You knew nothing!"

"I told him I did, Ironhide!" she shouts over my roar. I stop and turn slowly to look at her; she had that expression on her faceplate. I had gotten so used to that look of defiance in the short time I had been saved by this one femme; if I weren't for her and her defiant behavior, I wouldn't be here today. "I told him that I had modified my processor to keep his Cortical Psychic Patch from working; I told him I had information that I didn't so he would focus on me instead of move on to you! If he were destroying me then he couldn't possibly get to you or the others!"

Her impassioned words struck something deep in my spark. This femme had taken unnecessary damages so as to distract that slagger of a hacker from moving on to us. It was stupid, very stupid, but the noblest thing I had ever heard and something I couldn't be angry at her for because…I would have done much the same thing if I thought it would keep that psycho from touching her.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I had her faceplate in my servos and was devouring her mouth. She squeaks in shock but I hardly even heard the sound as I drowned in her. It was as if all of my tension was released in that one moment of reckless tactlessness that I never wanted to end. How long had I wanted to do this? How many recharge cycles had been full of her images? It was utterly freeing to feel such an elation to finally let go and just indulge in her.

Once I finally realized what I was doing, I jerked away. I put a good couple of yards between us even as she stumbled forward slightly. She caught herself and looks up at me with dim, hazy optics full of surprise and…something else.

"I-I have to go," I mutter, turning to head for the secondary door to the armory.

"You're running away?" she asks.

It was the tone of her vocalizer that stopped me in my tracks. Sure, my pride and dignity had a lot to do with it but it was the absolutely dejected sound in her words. I had wronged her; I was supposed to be the one with control. I was supposed to be the one who didn't fall for a small, flier with a big spark.

For a long time, I had convinced myself it was just gratitude for her help in saving my life. I remember being shot down to the point of having a hole blown right out of my abdomen; I remember the order for retreat that I, myself, had given to my team. I could never forget the gentle servos that came afterwards when the battle was over and I was slowly dying among the many other dead or dying mechs.

A tiny, insignificant tug before I felt two servos latch under my arms and start pulling me across the ground. Air vents huffed as the small figure finally found a nice, hidden cave made out of a fallen building. I was hooked up to something via an energon vein in my arm and then felt sweet, soothing relief as whatever was in that energon made me drowsy.

"Don't worry, sir, I'll have you up in no time," the soft, careful voice said just as her faceplate came across my field of vision. She had a white and red paint job with aristocratic features; it was very obvious she had been well taken care of before the war. It was the smile she gave me that stuck in my processor. "Just recharge for now."

And I had, without a care in my processor; I gave my spark over to this young medic who was no older than any of the other new recruits. I had seen her before…somewhere but at the time I couldn't quite place her. It wasn't until I woke up that I found out she used to be Ratchet's apprentice and had been kept within the walls of our base at the time. She was no fighter, they said, and the fact that she had blatantly disobeyed orders and went out into the battlefield to save lives meant she was in a slag-ton of trouble.

It hadn't mattered though. She had saved three of us that day and had proven that she could be an asset out on the field. Ratchet had no less than ordered Prowl, before he left with Prime, to keep her within secured walls out of fear. She was timid, weak and her lack of coordination had been legendary to her team. But…we soon found out just how agile she could be at dodging missiles and other projectiles. She was our only flier on the medic squad so she could get where others couldn't.

She had been irreplaceable after that day.

Now, those emotions that I had grown for the medic had only blossomed. I had hoped it would be just a side-effect of gratitude but…no such luck. I looked at her with the optics of someone pining after a creature they could never touch. I had had the utmost control around her before this very moment.

Now, I had slagged it all to the Pit and back.

"'Hide," she whispers, still a little dazed. "I've always known how you feel about me."

That one sentence was enough to shock me frozen even though all I wanted to do was run. "Y-You have?"

She smiles, coming closer until I flinch and she stops. "Please, 'Hide, I'm not dumb. I can feel the way you look at me when you think I don't know. At first, I was a little unsettled by it but…I've grown to…to enjoy your attention. We've been on a team since I pulled your sorry aft out of that battlefield and I don't mind."

I still feel that sense of fight-or-flight in my spark but I slowly start to relax a little. "What does that mean?"

There is a slight heat to her faceplate for a moment. "Well…I've never really…had someone…be so interested in me," she admits, fiddling with the blades at the back of her helm. It was a motion that she did when she was nervous; I had seen it far too many times not to know what it was. "I'd…I'd like to give…I mean, if you want to…give it a try?"

I visibly recoiled at the thought and I could see the hurt on her faceplate. "No, please, Primus I'm not good at this, Beta!" I step forward to place my servos on her shoulders. "Yes, it's true. I just…I'm bad at this because I've never really…it's been a long time. I'm just…an old model. You should go for somebot like Bumblebee or Smokescreen or, Primus forbid, the twins!"

"First off," she starts, grimacing. "The twins, really? Ew. Secondly, I don't give a frag how old you are! You're starting to sound like the humans, 'Hide! Since when have we ever given a slag about our age?"

She had a point. It wasn't really cultural for us to worry about age; slag, Prime had been with Elita One before she had fallen in battle and their age difference was much like mine and Beta's. Besides, the femme was mature, by force of war, but she was level-headed, compassionate and had a great personality. The twins had never really been quiet back in the beginning about how attractive she was even if she never saw herself that way. Femmes had been such a rare thing after the war started that they had grown a kind of…rare beauty in the ranks.

Walking forward, she folds herself right into his embrace like she had been made for it. Her helm tilts up until she can brush the bottom of his chin with her derma. "I'm not a sparkling, 'Hide. I'm well over the age of consent that was established on Cybertron. I can make my own decisions and I would be a lucky femme to have you as a lover."

I lean my helm down until our derma meet in a slow, steady kiss. She was sturdy for such a small, fragile frame; something, I was prone to forget until she was cutting open Decepticons with only a laser scalpel in some of her most desperate moments. She was everything good that the war had resulted in; she was strong, passionate and compassionate. Even Shockwave's violations couldn't keep her from being less than who she was.

Her fingers dig into my armor even as we fall deeper into each other. I felt her heat against my spark chamber and tried to pull her closer. Even if I hurt her, I couldn't tell because she only moaned into my mouth. It, honestly, made my interface panel ping the ready signal.

I pull away slowly, enjoying the groan of disappointment. "Let's not rush this," he grits out, even as her small fingers are flicking at sensors under his armor. She was a competent medic so he assumed she was quite good at finding those hidden spots.

She smirks, the look something he hadn't seen on her face before. Beta had never been known for her confidence until recently in the war; with Ratchet on Earth, she had had to learn quickly how to fend for herself. She had a natural talent at medicine so it wasn't hard for her to see what good her skills could do.

"Afraid to break me?" she chuckles, nearly dangling from my much taller neck.

I look at her seriously. "You have four day old welds. Yes, I am quite afraid to break you."

She pouts, a habit picked up from the humans, no doubt, and leans back with a vent of air from her mouth. "I've waited so long for you to make a move!" she groans, baring her neck cables to me teasingly. Maybe it wasn't on purpose but I took advantage while I had the moment to run my glossa across those beautiful white and red cables. Her breath hitches in her chest before a deep sigh of pleasure escapes. "Feels nice."

"Yeah?" I smirk, reaching down to pull her legs up around my wide waist. She could barely wrap them around all the way but somehow managed. My resolve, held like iron since the beginning, was slowly starting to crumble as she arched her back into me. I felt the pulsating resonance of her spark press against mine and I walk her back until I find a relatively clear table.

"W-What about going slow?" she whimpers as I lay her across the table and slowly start to tease the rest of her body.

I grunt. "I'm too old for going slow."

Her whisper of an assent is drowned by the gasp that takes over as her body shudders when my fingers run down her interface panel. "G-Good to hear," she sighs, spreading herself out on the table. She was…beautiful. Even with the welds and scrapes and paint scuffs, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid optics on. And something that felt this good could not be wrong.

We were so preoccupied that neither one of us noticed the other mech in the room until a wrench pinged off my helm. "Ow, slag!" I snap, looking around to see a rather irate medic standing right inside the door with a very embarrassed Drone. "Uh…hi Ratch."

"Don't you 'hi, Ratch', me Ironhide," he glares, then shifts his glare when the femme pops her helm over my shoulder. "I came to make sure Beta was okay but…I see she's in pretty capable servos."

For the life of me, I'm not sure why Ratchet was the only mech to make me feel embarrassed about anything. It was too bad that his protégé didn't feel the same. "Ratch, you have the worst timing, ever," she laughs, draping herself over my much larger shoulders casually. "Then again, better now than while I was being fr—"

"Alright, alright!" he shouts just before she can finish. "Just…take this to a non-public place? I don't want the Drones getting the wrong idea!"

"Sure thing, Docbot!" she laughs brightly, the sound tingling where her breath caressed my audios.

Ratchet grumbles something as he walks towards the door; he pauses right before walking out to point a finger at Ironhide. "If you hurt her…I'll disassemble you from the pedes up!" he warns before finally exiting the room with the Drone beside him.

"Ratch," I chuckle nervously as we walk down the hallway quickly. "Hey! Slow down!" He stops when my servo hooks over his shoulder to pull him into a tight hug that has him huffing irritably. His body eventually relaxes into me and I have to smile. "You knew she'd have to grow up someday and find somebot. At least it's Ironhide and not someone like Knockout."

He sighs harshly against my chest but doesn't protest. "Yeah, I guess you're right. 'Hide will take care of her."

"Everything's going great, Ratch," I soothe, slowly maneuvering him so that he was walking beside me. I had my arm wrapped around his shoulders and was guiding him to his quarters. "The Treaty is signed and the war is over; Autobots and Decepticons and Drones alike are all getting along great! We haven't had any issues assimilating the other Drones into our ranks and disengaging their self-destruct mechanism was surprisingly easy. For once, we have awesome chefs that do wonders with the huge reserves of energon that we have at our disposal! To top that all off, we only lost a couple of Drones in the fight with Shockwave's ship."

His faceplate eases a little but I can see that something is weighing on his mind heavily. "We still can't go back to Cybertron for…Primus knows how long!"

I chuckle. It was very much like Ratchet to worry about something like that. "The humans have welcomed us into their fold as refugees until our planet is habitable again. Gene and Prowl are working with Perceptor to try and find more of our kind to bring to Earth and I think they've found another ship full of Autobots. Sermin is working with the humans to come up with medicines that will save their lives and destroy their reoccurring issues with diseases. Gabe's arm is almost fully repaired and he'll be working with the United Nations to help end the constant wars on this planet. We're doing a lot of good here, Ratchet. If we can keep the humans from doing what we did…then the war wasn't in vain."

Finally, I get Ratchet to his quarters were I settle him on the berth so he can finally get some rest. He had been non-stop since the battle. Gabe had needed instant surgery to repair his horrid wounds; Beta had needed some serious care as well and hadn't really left the old model's side the whole time.

I could imagine what the young flier had gone through in the clutches of Shockwave so it wasn't a surprise that Ratchet had been so protective. He thought she should be a lot worse off than she was but…I had yet to see any sign of processor trauma. In fact, she seemed to be getting along quite well if she were able to move past the violation that had been obvious in her damaged interface array. It was probably best that Ratchet be kept distracted during her courtship with Ironhide. He had a tendency to be protective over those he felt he had failed.

"She'll be fine too, Ratch," I whisper, placing my servos on his faceplate gently.

He takes my servos in his and slowly pulls me to lay across his form on the berth. It made my vents stutter in shock and arousal. Because of everything that had been happening…we hadn't been able to do…anything. I had been so busy worrying about other things that I hadn't taken into account the medic's…needs.

"I know," he smiles, nuzzling up into my neck cables teasingly. "She's strong…I just…wish she would take it a little slower. With the damage…" His face twists into a wince. "I know what happened to her. I just feel like there should be some kind of trauma to her processor."

"She's strong," I say, proud of my steady vocalizer. "We're all pretty strong."

He hums in assent before I capture his derma in a gentle kiss. It was an expelling of a lot of tension from the past couple of days. Whether or not we had been in the ship working or out debating with humans and Autobots alike, it had been a long time since either one of us had indulged our baser needs. And, honestly, it felt fragging good to run my servos across his armor to pluck hidden wires.

His vents hitched and I could feel the heat coming off of the panel pressed against my abdomen. "I missed you, Ratch," I whisper, lathing his spark chamber with my glossa. I push at sensors under his armor to get him to arch up into my body.

"I-I've been right here, g-glitch," he teases, groaning as my glossa brushes across his panel slowly. "D-Dante, s-stop teasing me!"

The begging tone was enough to make my panel pop open but I wasn't ready to end this. I wanted to take my time; I wanted to assure the older mech that everything was going to work out. He didn't have to worry about me or Beta or Sermin or Gabe. He just had to get used to the fact that the war was over; it was time to relax into a time of peace and rebuilding.

His panel snicks open and I instantly press my glossa against the glistening valve presented to me. He keens desperately, reaching down to place a shaking servo against my helm. The look on his faceplate was utter bliss as I teased sensors around the rim of his valve then delved deeper. My finger slowly ran across the rim until he was practically cursing my name.

"D-Dante, for…for frag's sake!" he whimpers as my finger presses forward to seek the sensitive sensors at the back of his valve.

At my own limit, I stand and pull the medic across the berth until his legs could be held in the crook of my arms. "Ratch," I whisper as I plunge forward. His body arches off the berth in what can only be called sensual and his servos scrape at my armor for something to hang onto.

His tight, wet heat is too much. I start to move, a little mercilessly, I must admit but from the incoherent garble coming from Ratchet's vocalizer, he didn't care. My body hums with pleasure and completion as I lean forward, pushing his knees closer to his chest, and catch his mouth. The old bot was surprisingly flexible for someone so bulky and he slowly started to push himself up to meet my thrusts.

Electricity flashed across my optics as my pleasure started to build. I went harder, bending him until I could hit that patch of sensors with every thrust. He screams my name in the most beautiful way possible until I'm a quivering stack of metal and spark energy.

At nearly the same instant, we both reach that peak and overload. My optics short out and I have to admit that it had been far too long since I had last overloaded. Besides that…this meant a lot more than a convenient frag with Ratchet.

"I love you," I whisper in our native language.

He jerks his helm up in shock. "E-Excuse me?" he whispers, disbelief evident in his faceplate.

Undeterred, I said it again. "I love you, Ratchet."

His face slowly relaxes. "I love you too, Dante."

It made me smile even though I knew he loved me. He didn't have to say anything in response. He loved Sermin, Gene and Gabe just as much too. If he could, he would keep all of us to himself but he knew he couldn't do that. Eventually, Sermin and even Gabe might find a mech or femme to complete them just as Gene had done but…not me. I would be with Ratchet forever. He wasn't just my savior…

He was mine.

The End

A/N: Yeah! COMPLETION! Sweet! Well, I hope you enjoyed the remake and the end of the story! I don't know if I'll add anything else to this set of stories but I've got a tiny little bug from re-watching the final season of Transformers: Prime.

Maybe I'll do something with Ratchet and Predaking but we'll just have to see!

Anyways, thank you so much for the two years worth of patience!