C.M.D: And this concludes the last of the Transformers works that need to be re-posted! From here on in, it'll be nothing but new updates starting next month! Hurray!

Title: Blades and First Aid X
Rating: M

Hospital staff didn't even bother to stop her as she walked around the halls, marching forward with desperate direction. Her target was an old mech talking to a circle of nurses; handing out datapads and weary instructions with a tired scowl. The crowd was just dispersing as she drew up to the vet, fists clenched at her sides.

"E-excuse me...? Ratchet?"

The labrador turned at the sound of his name, dim optics flaring in surprise. "Ignis?," he gaped. A pause, before a sigh followed. "Ignis...," he repeated, "Sweet pup, listen, I know... I mean... I get it, but... He's not here. I haven't heard anything since that orn either. You shouldn't keep coming by..."

The femme shook her helm, glancing to the side momentarily before she met with Ratchet's gaze again. "I... I know, but... but if I stop asking then, then maybe he really won't come home," she replied, "And we need him, Ratchet. A lot. Nobody will say it, but First Aid... First Aid was the glue that kept us altogether. Without him, we're falling apart..."

It was a well-known feeling. The decacycles that First Aid had been gone had changed everything -this hospital, the nurses' interactions, even Ratchet himself. Work wasn't the same, even the patients noticed, and it was a sludge that coated them from within and without; corroding their sparks and bringing motivation to an all-time low. The white mech never would have thought he'd have spent so long without his loyal assistant... and he certainly never would have wished it to be in this way.

"...come," Ratchet finally said, waving slightly with his datapad, "Let's go to my office. You drink oil?"

Ignis followed quickly, staying right on top of the vet's heels. "Yes. Three sugars, please," she answered. "Listen, Ratchet... I... I don't want you to tell anyone else, but I'm really worried about my... um, Blades. You... you know him...?"

The older autodog vented tiredly. "Yes, I am aware that he is your brother and sire... Believe me, that was shocking enough. Streetwises' file is still a mystery to me."

The youngling bunched her shoulders above her helm, staring at the floor self-consciously as Ratchet unlocked his office door. "I-i know most people would look down on me and my family because of my parentage, but not once has Blades been a horrible sire to me. I... Hotspot and Groove raised me in Blades' stead, and treated F-first Aid and I a-as siblings so... S-so, I k-know for a fact that Blades a-adored First Aid, t-the only brother he h-had left who didn't know of the mess are family still remained in and w-who didn't think of him differently."

Ratchet glanced at Ignis, ushering her into his office, but said nothing as he went to the counter to make two cups of hot oil.

The femme herself paced back and forth, fiddling with her servos in a weak attempt to reign in her wild emotions. "S-see, Blades needs that normalcy. I-i know he'd never tell me that, word for word, but he's my sire and I know these things. H-he loved coming home for family visits, w-when he could make them, a-and since he was u-unable to help First Aid a-after he went missing..." She paused, drawing in a shaky intake, before collapsing in one of the vet's free chairs. "H-he's... He can't l-last much longer like this, Ratchet. W-we're all suffering, b-but B-blades' s-state of mind is in d-danger. If... If we never get First Aid back, t-then I will lose both my brother and my sire... I-i... I don't w-want this fo-for my f-family..."

"Ssh," Ratchet soothed, approaching the crying femme. He put her cup of oil on the desk beside her, before gently petting the youngling as she turned into his waist; hiding her tear-streaked face. "Ssh... I... I can't offer you any real condolences," he murmured softly, "But know that you are not alone. I miss him terribly and every day he is not here, is a reminder that without First Aid, my life is not complete. If you ever need anyone to talk to, you're-"

The shrill ringing of his office phone interrupted anything else that the labrador might have said. Staring at it momentarily, Ratchet stroked Ignis' helm one last time, before carefully reaching forward and pulling the receiver out of its cradle. His 'hello' came out gruffer than he would have liked, but considering the subject of conversation he had currently been in, the old autodog thought he was justified in his impatience.

"What?," he said, straightening up in surprise. Ignis looked up, wiping her optics, one servo fisting the vet's lab coat. "You mean-" Ratchet paused, before looking down at the femme. "I understand," the labrador finished, before hanging up. He didn't need to look to know that Ignis was staring at him with silent demand.

"Grab your things. We've got something to tell your family."

The youngling was up on her pedes immediately, following Ratchet as he rushed out of the office.

xxXxXxx

The airport was one solid mass of 'bots, noise, smells and heat, combined with a severe lack of impatience, exhaustion and mild panic. Thankfully, they weren't part of the regular cue lines; hidden behind tinted glass, First Aid and his escorts were alone in a clean hallway, leading over the maze of airline customers and staff below, and down a door to a rear exit of the airport. Soundblaster, as he had politely introduced himself when they boarded the plane, walked next to him in silence; whispering orders to the other four in the vet's guard, occasionally glancing at his charge.

First Aid ignored him, as he did most else, optics focused only on the space between his pede and his front guard. Surrounded by his own personal wall of mechs, he was safe -as long as the noise and the other bodies stayed far away, he didn't have to think, or feel, or... anything. It had taken more than enough energy for the australian shepherd to return to Iacon, and that was after the gentle prodding of the old kai ken.

It was a decision that he was already beginning to regret.

"Not much further," the kittycon beside him said softly. "We just have to go through these doors up ahead, and then out another set across the hall. We have a sedan already outside, waiting for us, to take you where ever you wish."

The autodog didn't know if he even signalled his acknowledgement but he assumed Soundblaster took his silence for a confirmation, as he had done for much of everything else. The front guard opened the doors ahead of them; Soundblaster practically glued to First Aid's side, surveying the area as they stepped into the full sunlight of the orn. It was only several steps across the way to reach the next set of doors. A short distance by any means... and yet it was too long...

"What do you mean I can't see him?!," a voice shouted across the hall. Two more voices rose to counter the original shout, but already First Aid had frozen in place, frightened optics snapping to the side.

"He's my son!," Hotspot shouted. He wrestled with the security guarding a series of temporary blockades, trying to knock one mech out with his cane, while shoving past the other. Groove stood beside him, snapping just as loudly; one servo held up to his face, clenching a wet handkerchief. "You can't keep me from seeing him!"

They were putting up an amazing fight, but worse yet... they weren't alone...

Vivid blue optics stared out over the tousling helms, pinning the poor australian shepherd down. Spark started pulsing faster and faster, even after Soundblaster stepped in front of First Aid, until the vet could not feel anything but the frame-penetrating chill that stopped the very energon in his lines. "Get them back!," the persian ordered, sending two of their personal guards forward.

Blades' helm disappeared momentarily among the chaos, but when it reappeared, the white mech did not know -he'd already turned and ran off, vanishing from everyone's sight.

xxXxXxx

"I hope you're proud," the persian glared. "No thanks to you, First Aid has disappeared!"

Ratchet scowled back just as equally up at the black kittycon, fists clenched on his desktop. "Have you checked his apartment?," he grit out slowly.

"We informed you of his return, as you are the only closest confidante we know he had outside his family!," Soundblaster continued, fur bristling wildly upon his switching tail. "Yoketron said specifically that you would be able to guide First Aid through this tumultuous return, which is why we called you before our flight took off -and then you pulled this stunt?!"

"Are you going to answer the question or not?!"

The kittycon hissed lowly, straightening up when the labrador tensed in retaliation. "Yes, we did check. The place has been empty for orns- there was a layer of dust, still undisturbed!" Soundblaster crossed his arms over his chestplates, visor dimming as his glare increased. "Unfortunately, now we have nowhere to find First Aid and it's imperative we find him before things get out of hand again..."

"...now you're finally making sense," Ratchet grumbled, getting up. "I get that you bureaucrats have your way of doing things, but you've said nothing to me or the pup's family for the entire time you've had him. You're timing also sucks, because I had Ignis in my office when you called. What? Should I have just ditched that poor, upset youngling just for secrecy sake?"

The other mech said nothing. His tail still switched at the tip, ears perked tensely.

Coming out from behind his desk, the vet walked over to his filing cabinet; unlocking one of the shelves and pulling out a thin file. "This," he informed, handing the folder to the persian, "Is a compilation of all of First Aid's personal data. There sure as slag isn't much in way of clues but I'm sure you secret intelligence officers can piece together some sort of idea as to where to find First Aid. Whatever you do... treat him well."

Soundblaster was silent as he thumbed through the folder, before closing it up and nodding slowly. His tail had finished its twitchy motion and his ears had lowered to their usual position; his entire demeanour was finally relaxed. "Thank you...," the kittycon began slowly, "I... I know that this is a difficult time for you and I did not mean to come across as inconsiderate, but I am just as worried about your comrade as you are. My mission was to deliver him to you personally for the rest of his recovery, which I have already failed. I only hope that things won't deteriorate further."

There wasn't much to be said to that. Certainly, Ratchet wanted to shoot some slurs at the impudent persian who'd stormed into his office, hissing uncalled for accusations his way... but honestly, the vet was tired. It had been a long orn, and an even longer evening awaited him after First Aid had disappeared from his family. If Ignis and her family had been spark-broken before, this would have completely devastated them now. What had they thought? Seeing the back of their dearest son and brother fleeing from them, straight back into the unknown... Battling with his own slightly guilty feelings, it took the labrador kliks to realize that was alone once more in his office. Venting heavily, Ratchet tidied up what little mess remained, before leaving for the night.

xxXxXxx

He was a monster...

"Blades?"

A demon...

"Dad?"

He ruined everything he touched...

"Daddy?!"

The pounding on the door increased as the bull terrier buried his helm deeper between his knees, wincing at the buzzing in his ears. He sounded like he held a whole wasp nest in his helm; their snipping, angry, incessant noise drilling holes in and out of his processor. It left everything aching behind his optics -long since dried of any tears. The buzzing increased to a ear-piercing screeching, like claws on metal, making him flinch.

It was better than Blades' deserved and so he did not comment on it.

The pounding continued on the other side of the door for a few more kliks before it quieted entirely, leaving the autodog to wallow further in his self-made torment. He was a monster, he repeated silently, a demon. He ruined all he touched; corrupted everything good.

I just wanted to help...

….I loved him...

Pitiful excuses. Self-serving reasons. Monsters did not have sparks; demons did not love. They were hollow and full of rage, they fed off of despair and stripped the good out of everything. He'd hurt him... Broke him down further...

No wonder he hates you Blades, voices whispered. The first of many words to break through the buzzing.

No wonder...

He hurt him... Broke him further... Turned First Aid away from him, scarred him enough into fleeing at the mere sight of the bull terrier. He deserved this then -this pain, this title, this emptiness. He did not have the right to feel sorry, or guilty, or anything that might make him a victim in this scenario.

I'm a monster...

I just wanted to save him...

Cold tile touched his cheek, stinging in its frigidness. No one would leave him alone; they all grieved, and tried to include him in their grief. Yet they didn't know what he had done to their most precious First Aid. They were unaware of his part in the australian shepherd's fleeing. He had no control over his anger, no way to cap his never-ending rage... He really was just a monster.

And he'd finally lost what he'd already destroyed.

xxXxXxx

He didn't know what he was doing. The frightened dash he'd made was understandable, the dive into the parked sedan calculable but the drive around Iacon that followed made little sense. "Where you heading?," the chauffeur had asked. He had no answer and could barely say that to the mech driving. The driver seemed to have understood though; he started up the car and began rolling, going around in circles and about corners in a never-ending loop. Morning turned to afternoon, and eventually the sky turned dusky red with the approaching evening. Knowing he needed to come to a stop some time, the australian shepherd gestured to a familiar street corner, to which the chauffeur politely pulled over and let him out.

Arms crossed over his chest, the white mech walked down the worn pavement, optics fixed on his elongating shadow. Up ahead, in a little cul de sac, he saw a green door among the various reds and blues. His pace picked up. It felt like kliks later, but in actuality was only a few astroseconds, he stood in front of the unique door; staring blankly up at the silver knocker, uncertainties squirming wildly within the autodog.

With more courage than he felt he truly owned, the mech raised a trembling servo and gave the knocker one, gentle swing. The thud it made was dull and easily forgettable- yet the door opened shortly after, Ratchet standing in the doorway with a stunned expression. "F... First Aid?"

He hadn't meant to flinch at the stutter of his name, but it was already done, so all the australian shepherd could do now was straighten to his full height; servos held limply at his sides. "...may I come in?," he asked softly.

"Wh- Oh! Yes, yes, Primus, come in!" Ratchet hurriedly stepped out of the way, flustering as he gently pulled the assistant in. The older mech closed the door and rushed them to the living room, offering his good armchair to the silent australian shepherd. First Aid didn't sit and seeing this, Ratchet slowed down in his blustering, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the raggedy couch he owned.

"...Did you want some oil or-?"

The assistant shook his helm.

Venting heavily, the labrador ran his servos over his face before folding them between his legs, staring at the floor. "Um... t-today at the airport, I...," the vet started slowly, "I informed your family about your return. I didn't mean for them to swarm you, I just- They hadn't seen or heard from you in a long time and Ignis was with me when-"

A small servo lifting silence the rest of Ratchet's words, as he turned guilt-ridden optics up to the australian shepherd, wary of any signs. "Ratchet...," First Aid began. His vocalizer was weak, rough; not at all like it once was. "It doesn't matter," he continued, dismissing his superior's crime, "I just... I want to know my schedule. I want to be back at the hospital. Please... I need some normalcy..."

A knot was growing in the other mech's vocalizer, which he tried to clear quickly, but it still did not fade as he opened his mouth; indeed, it became worse. "Listen, pup, I..." The assistant tensed. "I r-really want you to come back to work, but... but you can't."

The light was dimming rapidly from First Aid's optics. Leaning forward, servos held out desperately, Ratchet tried to correct his earlier statement. "I-i mean, it's not like I don't want you to! But, given what b-became of you, and how long you were gone... The medical directors' board would not allow it! Not right now..."

The smaller mech was already turning away, shoulders shaking minutely. "I-i... I see... I, I..." His words were few, broken, mumbled until First Aid gave up entirely. He turned abruptly on his heel, heading for the door. "Sorry. I will go."

"No," the labrador protested, jumping to his pedes. "First Aid, wait!" He cut off his assistant's retreat, uncertainly resting his servos on the other autodog's shoulders. "First Aid, wait, let's... let's figure something out, okay?," he suggested, bending a little to meet the australian shepherd's gaze. "I can't let you come back to work as a nurse, b-but... but maybe I can hire you on like... like... like an office temp! You could catalogue files for me, tidy the office, um, answer phone calls! Does... does that work...?"

Finally, bright optics were looking up at him -swollen with tears, but glimmering with a forbidden spark of hope... and home. Ratchet practically grinned as he sighed with relief, straightening up and yanking the younger mech in for a hug. "I missed you, pup," he groaned, overwhelmed with joy and exhaustion, "We all did. Primus, how strong you are to have survived the nightmare you came from..."

Trembling, the assistant buried himself deeper into the labrador's embrace, quietly weeping with so many conflicting emotions. Hugging First Aid tighter, the vet planted a kiss on the bowed helm, rocking the australian shepherd when his intakes turned ragged from his crying. "Whatever you need... whatever you want," Ratchet said, "Just ask, First Aid, and I will help you through the rest of this. I promise you."