Updated - 02~07~2022


2

The storage was probably the stances the crimson mech most avoided, if he could. He simply hated to wander around it. There were too many useless objects scattered across an untidy place. At his optics, it was a disaster… Oh, and a waste of space too!

How was the old cranky model supposed to find anything in there? He had no clue, and wasn't sure he wanted to know.

The former Deception awaited at the entrance, his face showing boredom. His back was rested against the gate in front of the opened storage, his arms folded, and his legs extended, one crossed over the other one. His dangerous crimson optics meticulously followed every move the much older medics made, never missing the slightest detail.

After some breems searching in the chaos of that room, Ratchet grunted, murmuring something for himself as he exited the storage, empty handed. He stood in the middle of the corridor, deep in thoughts.

"What happens, Doctor? Couldn't you find your ladder in all that… Mess?" Knockout mocked tuneful, sneering.

The white and orange mech ignored his sarcastic remark, never looking at him. He just walked up to the panel next to the door on which the crimson mech was resting, and pressed it. The gate immediately began moving, making the former 'Con almost lose his balance. Managing to straighten up, he flung a blazing glance at the more experienced medic, who returned a smile of his own.

As soon as the second storage let its content in view, the old medic located the object they had come looking for. Rested against the far end, a lightly rusted metal ladder stood. Ratchet dodged thing here and there as he advanced, while Knockout awaited outside, shocked. He managed to make his way up to it, and firmly grabbing the ladder, he tilted it towards himself and effortfully dragged it to the entrance, venting hard.

Once at the corridor, he turned to the younger cybertronian, who stared at the rusty ladder in utter disgust.

"At the count of three, we'll charge it over our shoulder and will carry it to the main hall." Ratchet instructed, locking optics with the crimson mech and making sure he got it clear.

"It's rusted." Knockout lost no time complaining, pointing at the thing and raising his servos up, denyingly. "I'm not putting that thing on my precious finish."

Knowing well arguing with the former 'Con was a waste of time, the senior Autobot opted for the fast track. He extracted his favorite wrench from his substance and allowed the younger doctor to have a good look at it, while he calmly waved it in front of him.

"Pick your choice. The rust or the wrench." The white and orange medic grinned. "Choose wisely."

The crimson's medic optics went wide, in realization. His gaze was lowered down to be darted between both objects. With a grimace, and after a short tantrum, he finally kneeled down and grabbed the edge of the ladder, directing the other mech a sharp glare. Satisfied, Ratchet positioned himself, and coordinately they lifted the thing up.

They both marched without interchanging a single word, but the murderous expression on the Kaonian's face said it all. He didn't like how the rust particles were settling onto the newly added scratches on his shoulder groove. He neither liked the strident sound of it next to his audio receptors, but he kept telling himself he would later on praise himself with long shower and a proper detailing session… Once that nightmare was over.