Chapter 13
If he didn't feel useless on any regular day, he certainly did now.
Trailbreaker has always had a difficult time convincing himself that he was worth his metal. Worth more than his force field. Worth the extra energon his frame requires. Worth being an Autobot.
Not that it was easy to tell. He liked to keep his problems to himself, thank you very much. To most everyone else he was normal and happy. The only time he'd slip up was after a couple cubes of high grade, but even then his peers often brushed his inebriated mumbling as something to not take too seriously.
Today he wasn't even trying to put up a front.
He thought volunteering to be part of the group keeping watch over the Decepticon base would help ease his conscious, but (of course) he couldn't (and shouldn't) be so lucky.
Sitting around and staring out over the ocean or through one of the many cameras Mirage had placed under the water was hardly fulfilling. Other mechs would have taken this job as an excuse to laze about, it was too easy…
He didn't take much notice of the lively nature of his peers as he trudged to the energon dispenser. The rec room was louder than usual with poorly concealed whispers, yet the charcoal colored mech couldn't hear any of it over the inner turmoil thundering about his processor.
Trailbreaker fills a cube and immediately turns to find any of his commanding officers.
He didn't have to go far.
Jazz was wearing a concerned smile, no doubt confused seeing the larger mech so blatantly tense. The saboteur was one of the few who caught on to his negative perception of himself.
"Sorry ta' ditch you guys this morning. Better rest up before your next stake out." Jazz says with an apologetic pat to Trailbreaker's shoulder.
The porsche had been called back to base for a meeting with Prime.
The larger mech shakes his helm in the negative with a soft huff of his vents.
"Actually, I was wondering if I could be assigned to the next group delivering energon."
Jazz's smile is gone. Replaced by exasperation.
"Promise not to wear yourself out?"
Trailbreaker nods.
The smaller mech relents, "Next week's transport team is already full. So, you can either convince a mech to trade assignments, or go see if Ratchet has already set up a team to take today's supplies."
Wait, what?
"Today?"
Before Jazz can get another word in, Trailbreaker is exiting the rec room and speedily making his way to medbay.
He had no other assignments today, so this would be perfect! He would still try to trade assignments for next week, but he couldn't guarantee that anyone would agree to it. As such, it would be best to see if he can make use of himself now.
The big mech tries to ease out the tension in his frame as he enters medbay. Ratchet would be less likely to agree to let one of his patients work if he thought there might be something wrong with them.
He still feels a bit stiff, but who could blame him? What with walking in on Ratchet cursing at a datapad over an open crate of supplies and energon…. Medical grade.
"Uh."
The medic looks up to face Trailbreaker with a tired frown.
"You need something?" Ratchet asks.
"Y-yes. I heard you were sending more supplies to the Cons and I came to offer my services." The camper truck can't keep his optics steady on the medic. His gaze shifts back and for between the mech and the crate. "Something happened, right?"
Frag, frag, frag.
Does this have to do with why Jazz was called back from the stake out? Did the Decepticons demand more on threat of Gears's safety? Did the minibot do something to anger Megatron? Was this for the Cons or was this for-
"This is for Gears, isn't it?" Trailbreaker's voice takes on some static. "Is he hurt?! Tell me he's okay-"
He's interrupted with a firm swat to his helm.
Ratchet is pointing at him with his data pad and an unimpressed scowl.
"You know," the red and white mech says in low voice, "One would think this to be common knowledge, yet here I am. It's highly advised- nay, I will make it mandatory that soldiers considering a spark bond speak with their medic first."
"He told you?"
Those shouldn't have been his first words in response to that, but the truck is honestly surprised. Himself and Gears wanted to avoid any unnecessary attention and decided to keep quiet about the whole ordeal.
"He told me that he and another mech tried to bond, but as for the identity of his partner..." Ratchet pauses lowering his data pad. "You just gave yourself away."
Trailbreaker pushes down the embarrassment at having been so easily found out, to turn the conversation back on track.
"Is Gears okay? Please tell me the merge didn't hurt him?" He pleads.
That's the only reason Gears would have brought it up to Ratchet, right? Something must have went wrong with the merge.
"Oh, the merge did something alright." The medic huffs, turning back to the crate of supplies. "And I suppose a congratulations would be appropriate."
Trailbreaker's worry is quickly replaced by confusion and Ratchet allows himself a hearty chuckle.
"While the two of you did not successfully bond," the medic smirks "You did manage to create a newspark."
Notes: I had been avoiding choosing who the sire was for a while now. Originally I was considering other minibots, but then I read through some g1 bios and thought Trailbreaker's was interesting. His is basically the opposite of Gears's bio, so here we are.