Tired and burnt out… But hey! I got another chapter under my belt! I might fix this intro later, but first I need sleep. XD

One thing though before I forget, I will not be leaving my usual NSFW warning when I write my general smut, but there is definitely some implied non-con towards at the end. So, yeah, just so I can say I did bring it up if anyone wants to throw in a complaint.

Remember, don't be afraid to leave a review and ask questions. I love to hear from my readers and fellow fan writers! X3

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any stocks, trades, or licensing from the Transformers franchise. All rights are reserved for HASBRO entertainment.

GIVE IN

Chapter 2

"Megatronus…" Ratchet mumbled as he walked around his new work environment. His treaded over from one station to the next muttering the name repeatedly while mindlessly completing a menial task. Once he was done fixing a broken spindle or cleaning a shelf full of rust, he moved on to starting a new project that would be finished in an instant. His frustration soon built up a such charge he was beginning to shout in his confusion. "Megatronus…? Megatronus? Pft! Fragging Megatronus?!"

At this point the medic began to quietly scold himself, realizing he was chanting the gladiator's name like a mantra, and even started sounding like the fools howling for him in the stands. Eventually he exhausted himself enough he needed to brace his arms over the counter and just huff through a short break. Inevitably, he began to reflect on his actions, and questioned everything he did beginning to end. Was this all he had to give on his first day alone? One unruly patient and a shock to his processor was all he could muster? And the day wasn't even finished.

"What have I gotten myself into…?" Self-doubt wafted over his hands that he clasped around his faceplate for comfort. After asking himself that out loud, Ratchet became aware he was having a moment. "Slow, deep intakes old mech… You can get through this."

He stood up right and tilted his helm straight up. He closed his optics and slowly inhaled, held his intakes for a few seconds, than let go of his exhaust like it was his last. He remained there in place and repeated this action at least twice more, but soon noticed another problem. He was still heated in his undercarriage, and now he was able to piece together why. He was definitely in the midst of a heat-cycle.

"Primus what am I going to do…?" He hummed through his coping mechanism but was nearly scared out of his armor when he noticed he wasn't alone.

"Have come at a bad time?" The very cause of his flustered mood spoke boldly behind Ratchet. He jumped a little but didn't spin on his heels like his instincts told him too. He needed to park his pedes in place before he could move without exaggerating his movements. This just made the medic's transition look even more awkward as he rotated to face the sliver beast. First thing Ratchet noticed about the gladiator was that he was much closer to him then he first imagined. The second was his optics. Megatronus was still calming himself from a fight, so those steely optics were still glowing red, and somewhat brighter than the last time. It was enticing to see, and the thrill was visibly showing in Ratchet's heating frame.

"No…" He lied, responding on pure whim rather than honesty. "I was just… Meditating on… Ah…"

The gladiator stepped closer, now only an arm's length away. A servo stretched out towards the medic and his air vents hitched from the taller mech's EM field smothering him. Ratchet could not hide his shivering and he shuttered his optics tight, waiting for something to happen. For what exactly he wasn't sure, but he was filled with certainty that it was going to happen.

"Are you sure my timing is appropriate?" Megatronus tilted his helm curiously but chuckled at such a display. "I see… I apologize for my forwardness."

The calm in his voice encouraged the short grounder to peek open one of his optics, and noticed the digits reaching for him had passed his helm. When Ratchet understood the gladiator was just reaching for a cloth behind him, he sighed with relief at first, but then felt cross with himself in an instant. What exactly was he expecting would happen? That somehow Megatronus would pick up on his heat-cycle and throw him against the medical berth just to get plowed from behind? And the fact that he needed to think that question so straight forward in his mind he understood that yes, he did think that. He needed to find a way to cool himself down before any other symptoms became visible, but first there something he needed to straighten out.

"How was your match?" Ratchet asked, looking away from his guest and casually leaning against the counter behind him.

"I'm surprised that you care honestly." The giant smirked on his answer. "No offense, but you don't seem the sportsmen type."

"I'm merely curious on the whereabouts of my promised patient." A scoff rose in his throat, but the medic swallowed it on his rising professionalism. He still had a job to do after all. "Did you not say you would return with your opponent?"

"He forfeited after the second round and fled before I could bring him here." Mindlessly, Megatronus toiled with the cloth over his hand, gaining the physician's attention. "Oh, I'm sure he's fine. He was another aristocrat that just wanted to get his two-minutes of glory in. I get them quite often in the middle of the week. Anyway, if he discovers he's hurt anywhere later, he has the means to take care of himself."

"As do you this moment." The white mech found his courage and took hold of the large claws. He was amazed by the circumference of the digits compared to the rest of the mechanical hand but became more focused on the cycled energon seeping into the cloth. "Did you cut yourself? Allow me to see please?"

"Thank you, doctor. But it's really nothing." He didn't resist when Ratchet took his hand to examine it. The gladiator even smiled from the light treatment. Megatronus had grown a fondness for the young medic instantly and was more than agreeable to letting him get close. Medical or otherwise.

"True, it appears to be just a small lash." Ratchet began to analyze the cut with trained optics. His professionalism reflecting through his gentle touches. "Doesn't look like you need a mesh stitching, or any plating replaced, but I would like to clean the wound before dressing it."

"You really don't need to trouble yourself."

"Just let me do my job, yeah?" The white mech didn't raise his voice, but he did huff a little frustrated by the constant banter of what he needed or didn't need to do. It appeared his mild outburst was taken into good humor as he heard the giant chortle in his chest. Ratchet also smiled, receiving the soft rumbling warmly, but soon he returned to feeling guilty. He didn't really understand why Megatronus was being so kind to him after the way he was treated earlier by the new doctor.

"This is perhaps the longest an Iaconian lingered in my presence." The silver mech attempted to joke, but as he witnessed the saddened expression rise in Ratchet's optics, it was clear the gesture wasn't taken as such. "I was merely trying to be cheeky, dear doctor. I apologize if I have offended you."

"Oh no…" Ratchet shook his helm and frowned. "If anyone should be apologizing it should be me. I was acting so foolish earlier today."

"I'm not sure I understand you. Ow!"

"Did that hurt?" The medic asked after lightly pulling upward on a digit. Megatronus nodded in response and sighed when the sting in his palm subsided. Ratchet made a few more close inspections around the base of the digit before standing up. Now focused on his tasks he walked over to his kit and removed a few choice items such as anesthetic, mild pain reliever, a couple of small metal splints, mech bandages, and tattered wrap. "It appears you sprained your servo. The cut isn't long or deep enough to require stiches, but I will need to bind your hand flat."

Ratchet continued to instruct his patient of the care he was going to need to provide to the injury as he began to clean and patch the wound. With practice, he sprayed the opening with his anesthetic spritzer and gently soothed it over with a cooling bandage. He was nearly done with wrapping the giant's hand in the two splints, and he wasn't quite done with his apologies. However, he was having difficulty finding his choice of words and nearly avoided the subject altogether. Perhaps his remorse could be addressed at a later time. It wasn't as if he was never going to run into the famous champion of the Pits while Ratchet was still the gladiator medic.

"You should where this splint for at least a week and change the mesh dressing twice a day. You don't need to stop fighting, but I recommend not exerting yourself with them and…" The medic stood once more while recollecting his materials. He returned his to his kit to organize and put his medical items away neatly. He was operating with tunnel vision at this point; aware he was still in the midst of company but didn't really give his presence the attention he once held. "Feel free to return here tomorrow so I may re-examine it. The least I can do is make sure it's healing correctly to make up for my arrogance."

"I still don't understand what you mean?" Megatronus's voice crept up behind Ratchet's helm with a hot looming vibration. The white mech gasped but froze in front of the counter. His leg struts locked despite his processor instructing himself to turn around. Practically screaming at him to move, but he remained station. In anticipation of what, he had yet to imagine, but he shivered in his frisson and stayed put. "I'm no stranger to bad first impressions, but if I may be honest… I felt good about our first meeting."

The silver mech's undamaged servo slid down the lengths of Ratchet's arm making him sigh from the static hovering between them. The heat of the gladiator's front nearly burned down Ratchet's left side and his EM field nearly sparked in return. "I… Uh… I don't see how you could feel that way. I treated you so poorly. Woah!"

He was swung around on his heals so quickly that Ratchet briefly felt nauseated. When his optics stopped spinning, he found himself facing Megatronus and his newly cooled blue eyes. The grounder's dermas quivered as he sighed and felt himself leaning closer towards the giant leering over him like a reaper. His large form would frighten anyone that was left pinned by his shadow, but Ratchet could taste the electricity washing over his armor. Damn this heat cycle, he cursed to himself, but discovered how much he didn't really mean it. Ratchet was slowly sinking further and further into the thrill of attraction. Of course, judging by the way Megatronus tilted his helm upward for a better view of the medic's blushing faceplating, he also had no complaints.

"If you are insistent on making amends for your guilt… You could join me for a glass of High Grade tonight. Have you ever been to Maccadam's?"

"A long… Time ago…" Ratchet whispered through deep gasps and nearly begged with his narrowing optics to be consumed by the flyer's sharp dentalplates. "Before I left… For schooling…"

"Care to be my escort tonight?" Closer and closer Megatronus dipped his head until his forehelm lightly grazed the top of Ratchet's. They both shuttered from the contact and nearly lost all composure left over in their CPU. However, it appeared the silver mech enjoyed the tension between them, and teased his doctor with a light withdrawal. "Or would you prefer to stay in?"

"Ahem…" Ratchet's eyes flung open when he heard a very familiar vocal signature behind Megatronus's frame. Without looking past the pointed silver armor, he knew instantly who had stumbled upon him in such an exposed moment.

"Th-Thunderclash…?!" He panicked slightly and gently pushed back on the mech in front of him. His mentor stood there in wide doorway, staring at the duo with a blank expression. He didn't express himself with an aura of disappointment but remained suspended in one place. Neither smiling nor sneering because he was still unsure of what he had stumbled upon. Debate was the next step for the blue and white tank, and he pondered on what he should do next.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" His thought process landed on the obvious question, deciding the situation couldn't become any further awkward.

"For the love of Primus…" Ratchet pinched the space between his tightly shuttered optics and quietly whispered to himself through his embarrassment. "Second. Time. That's the second time I've been asked that today, and word for word."

"If this is a bad time Ratchet, I really can come back later."

"No need," Megatronus finally expressed his input, "I was just about to take my leave anyway."

"Oh but…" There was a time for protest in Ratchet's life, but he caught himself before he could give way to one. Not the place and definitely not the time. The gentle giant smiled at the noticeable resistance and before stepping away he took hold of the medic's sensitive digits and lightly kissed the top knuckles.

"I will see you tomorrow than… Doctor." He purred over the black metal but growled quietly when they quivered beneath his palm.

"R-Ratchet by the way…" The smaller mech cooed, not remembering if he introduced himself properly. "If I haven't mentioned earlier. My designation is Ratchet."

"Right." The gladiator's smile nearly grew into a sinister grin. A light spark crackled in the corner of his optic compelling Ratchet to swoon again. His curiosity encouraging him to wonder what dark thoughts were behind those almond shaped eyes. "Until then… Ratchet."

Thunderclash stepped aside as Megatronus approached the exit. The blue mech offered a friendly grin and a light wave but received nothing but a cold shoulder in reply. Not that he blamed the silver behemoth for feeling rather resentful of his presence, since he stumbled upon a rather intimate moment. A very surprising intimate moment at that, because he never expected Ratchet of all mechs to be so publicly unreserved.

"I see you have settled in rather quickly." Thunderclash inched closer to his former ward slowly.

"I wouldn't put it that way." Ratchet turned away from the blue mech. Now that Megatronus had left, he was free to feel the full force of his embarrassment. "Why are you here? Did I really need to be checked up on so early?"

"Considering your work situation, I thought you might appreciate the extra hand setting up." The taller grounder smiled but noticed how his friend recoiled and retreated to the other side of the counter. Ratchet anxiously toiled around with a cloth over the dust covered surface. His spark was racing so rapidly he thought he might have a panic attack, but he wasn't going to allow himself to fall apart in front of the most respected bot in his function. Yet when he couldn't control the shaking in his shoulders, he knew Thunderclash would notice his apprehension. It was confirmed when Ratchet's wrist was caught by the tank's servo. "I take it your first day didn't pan out the way you planned it?"

"That is… Putting it mildly." The white and red mech finally reached a limit, and thankful to his friend for guiding him to the nearest seat. A seat that turned out to be a rock boulder. How such a large piece of an organic material managed to get there was beyond Ratchet's imagination, but it didn't really matter at the present. "Oh Thunderclash, I feel like such a fool."

"Why? From the look of things around here, you appear to be organizing yourself very well so far."

"Because of my professionalism." Ratchet shook his helm. He was just exhausted at this point he didn't care that Thunderclash had seated himself so close to him. An arm extended around his back to gently squeeze the space between his neck and shoulder. It became a comfort for Ratchet, and he sighed before divulging the entirety of his concerns. "I never get so easily wooed by a stranger, and yet I allowed myself to be captivated by one of my patients no less. If I am so effortlessly rattled than am I truly cut out for this extreme of an environment? Am I cut out to being a medic at all?"

"Let yourself get rattled?" The larger mech didn't mean to chortle, but he found his friend's lack of life experience to be rather light hearting. "Ratchet, you're facing a natural transition in any bot's function. An attraction to another Cybertronian is nothing unheard of. Be they feme, mech, medic, or gladiator these feelings and reactions to them are normal. You don't need to feel guilty about something that is probably a fleeting thrill in the end."

"There is just… So much to do here and I'm letting myself get so distracted. How can I be of any help to anyone if I'm already falling apart?"

"You are not falling apart." Thunderclash nearly scolded his friend but took Ratchet's servo in his free hand instead. "You had a bad first day that is all. I have watched you in the academy from day one on your arrival. I never doubted your capability to become a great medic and my faith in you still hasn't wavered. I have never lied to you Ratchet, and if I didn't think this was going to be the right place for you, I would have told you from the beginning."

"And if I still doubt myself?" Ratchet was beginning to feel better but wasn't out of his uncertainty yet.

"Then doubt yourself. It's another natural process we go through as we find our footing in the universe." The blue tank stood up and gently coaxed Ratchet up right where he became optic level with a broad eagle printed chassis. Thunderclash patted the side of the younger bot's shoulder armor while sweetly humming through his smile. "I will still be your biggest supporter and have your back whenever you need a servo."

Ratchet was never much of a hugger even with his closest of friends, but Thunderclash always had been fond of the occasional friendly embrace. Evidently the medic found the occasion called for one. A good tight and drawn out hug that squeezed some of the air out of Ratchet's air vents and lifted his pedes off the ground was just what he unexpectedly needed. "Oomph! Alright! Alright! Enough of that nonsense…! I feel better, now put me down you big brut."

"Ha! Now that's the confident Ratchet I know!" Thunderclash's laugh lived up to his name and it boomed like a sweeping storm. Such a trembling jubilation was contagious, and Ratchet also laughed into his digits. "Come now, let me help you straighten out your sanitation counter at least. I have just enough time on my hands to be at your disposal."

The rest of the giant's visit was graced with general small talk and light cleaning. The air felt so much lighter with a familiar face nearby to keep the medic company. However, all good things come to an end, and by the time Thunderclash was prepared to take his leave the entire counter was cleared. Ratchet was still in a meticulous organizing mode and went straight to organizing his equipment; smiling audio to audio as he rummaged through his satchel. He always loved going through medical supplies and scientific instruments. It gave him a vast piece of mind and he remembered why he wanted to be a scientist in the first place. He really did love his job despite its setbacks and Spark-aches.

When he was finished taking a mental inventory Ratchet began to mumble under his breath all of the things he would need to get later tonight. The sooner he fully stocked this area, the sooner he could start searching for a clinic space. "Plenty of mesh gauze, but not a single thread of micro-fiber sutras. Speaking of which, needles. Both for stitching and injecting, and as for anti-biotics… Or the lack there of..."

"I heard that." Thunderclash interrupted Ratchet's train of thought, not yet entirely out of the lab-to-be. "You really don't need to worry about inventory. The academy will provide your stock when you file for assistance."

He was expecting to be given a skeptical look from his former ward, and he lifted his hands up defensively. "And I promise… I will personally make sure it isn't just tucked under the red tape. You're the right person for this job, so you will get everything you need. Always ask me first."

"Thank you Thunderclash, but I would feel a more comfortable if I could stock a few items on my own." Ratchet took a datapad out of his subspace and ran his fingers over the screen expertly. "I really can't fully rely on those stuck up higher ups in the—."

"Well tonight you are." Stern was the tank's voice, but tender was his expression. "It is your first night as an independent mech and I expect you to go out and enjoy yourself. Be free for one night before you become engulfed in chaos." He got close enough to gently hip bump the shorter mech, not caring if he was given grief for it. "Maybe swing down to Maccadam's and check out the scenery… Or new faces."

"I have too much work to do—."

"Don't make me order you." Thunderclash linked his arm with Ratchet's and lightly swung him to face the exit. Then he began to push the stubborn medic by his shoulders until he finally gave up and started walking on his own. "I will close down shop for you from here. There won't be any fights set up tomorrow morning so you can sleep in even… And one more thing."

Ratchet's mentor pulled something from his side armor, and it was handed to him with brief reservation. The shorter bot recognized right away as a mesh taser, and he nodded without arguing on receiving it.

"Be careful and call me if you need me."

"Good night Thunderclash." Ratchet fully surrendered and started walking up the ramp towards the colosseum. "I will see you in the morning."

"I better not!" Thunderclash sang in reply.


The streets of Kaon were just as Ratchet remembered them as an adolescent. They were clambered with spotted foot traffic and littered with broken glass and rusted metal. If a bot faced a light breeze at just the right angle, he or she could taste the emission fluid that flowed down all the back alleys. No one bothered using waste-areas to clear their exhaust paneling since the whole city was treated like a dumping ground anyway. This was the city of transients, liars, cheats, and vagabonds. Not a single Cybertronian born, at most the middle class, gave the lower levels of society the benefit of neglect. But despite all of the atrocities the citizens of Kaon found themselves surrounded in, there was always a glimmer of light. These bots existed and lived as best they could with what little they had. This was the portion of the city Ratchet remembered with the most fondness.

Yet tonight he would not experience the kind natured portion of his upbringing. Not when he was smack dab in the middle of the red light district. If memory served him correctly, he would need to walk through the center of the ragged street to get to Maccadam's from the Pits. Sex workers and drug dealers hung around door jams and dark gallies while wafting the smell of bodily fluids of all sorts. The white mech understood the protocol to coasting down this road without drawing attention to himself. Keep your helm down but walk slowly so you don't draw too much attention. A little extra protection doesn't hurt, but it's best to keep it out of site but in reach. The taser Thunderclash gave him hung on his hip joint casually, but he needed to keep a servo over its clip. It seemed that the attachment mechanism was suited for larger armored mechs because the clip kept unlatching. The thought to subspace it wasn't present for long since it would be pointless in the end. It would take too long to withdraw the weapon if he weren't pinned on his front. The main concern Ratchet needed to consider was getting hit so hard the taser flew off his hip.

It was a major relief for the medic when he reached the end of district. The odor hadn't improved, but the lighting and atmosphere did. Maccadam's was a wonderful sight for him because it had been so long since he returned.

"The old grease pit hasn't changed a bit." He smiled through his nostalgia and hummed through the warm lighting on his frame. It was strange, but in a way, Ratchet felt as though he found his way back to his first home. He was on his way to crossing the street fully until a bright red glimmer caught the corner of his optic. Lo and behold, he said to himself as he witnessed the young Orion Pax standing underneath the bar's neon sign. The orange tinted lighting reflected off his silver ornaments and it highlighted his faceplate rather angelically. Such a sweet looking face was dangerous on this side of town, and it worried Ratchet for a moment. It appeared he wasn't alone as the Iaconian lent against the building and lightly laughing at a joke the medic could not hear. It wasn't the other bot from early that day, Ratchet couldn't remember his name, only remembered he was a little obnoxious.

This definitely was a different mech. For one thing, he was much larger, and at first glance he appeared to be a grounder. Not fully understanding his curiosity, Ratchet looked the taller bot over. His colors were a harsh shade of red over violet, and his equipment was below standard. This meant he wasn't a flyer or a grounder, he was a field worker. Judging by his build and scars he was a deep planetary miner and so far, not posing any threat to the lone Orion. It really wasn't Ratchet's business to look after the younger model, but he took it upon himself to observe them from afar. Just for a little while before entering the bar. Despite the foot traffic and polluted smell the white mech found a lamp post to perch against. It was early in the evening, so there was no real rush to get inside for nightcap.

Nothing special was happening. Just two mech's talking and shooting the breeze, but soon things slowly began to shift in the miner's favor. Ratchet had his suspicions that he had motives for talking to such a pretty face, but he stayed in place and waited to see what Orion would do about it.

The miner was already making his move by taking one arm and resting it on the wall behind the unsuspecting grounder. Orion was still chuckling a little, so he didn't see the other servo reaching up to cradle the sleek silver chin and play with a slim blue ornament. This strange mech was clearly going in to steal a kiss, but for some reason Ratchet felt an exception to this. He was getting ready to step in until he saw the shorter mech politely decline, or that's how it was intended to be. The instinct to rush in and help triggered the medic into a stance when the miner became agitated. However, Orion appeared to have his own limits to rough handling when the stranger angerly yanked on his wrist when he tried to walk away. In a flash, the ground swung his free arm and hit the other bot square between his yellow optics.

"Huh…" Ratchet shrugged as he watched Orion freely walk away without apologizing. "That was a bit impressive."

The small feeling of triumph was short lived when only Ratchet could see the now angry mech follow Orion a few yards and yanking him into a dark alley beside the bar. Before the young mech could shout for help his oral vent was covered with a large dirt encrusted servo and was strongarmed out of sight.

"Scrap!" The medic cursed and rushed into the light crowd of night walkers blocking his way. He didn't care for punctuality or politeness as he bombarded into random frames. One feme actually pushed back against him, which propelled him into another mech with a colorful vocabulary and a nasty right hook. Ratchet was hit so hard he fell flat on his front, but he sprinted to his pedes without dely. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the taser on his hilt was now gone until he made it to the entrance of the alley. It was too late to go back for it now since Orion had very little opening for a much needed interference.

Ratchet ran for what felt like minutes until he came to an intersection splitting two ways. He paused and searched for clues on which way the two bots went. In the end, all he needed to do was follow the screaming.

"I said no!" Orion's vocals echoed down the right side of Ratchet's helm. "Uhn! No! Stop! Let me go! Please! AH!"

"Shut up you little tease!" The miner growled in return and started hitting Orion into submission. "No Iaconian comes this far into the depths Kaon without looking for something thrilling! And I can give that to you baby… Just sit still and—Oomph!"

Suddenly, the taller mech was wretched backwards and thrown into the alley floor. Orion glanced up in time to see Ratchet throwing his assailant away from him and struggling to keep him in place.

"Run!" The bulky medic grunted and tried to anchor his pedes against a wall. "Run Orion! Don't look back! Just go!"

"Ratchet?!" Orion coughed in shock, unsure if he was seeing things straight. "Wha—?! What are you—?!"

"Go! Go now!"

The thundering roar booming from his attacker's engine block reignited the pretty mech's lucidity, and he sprinted away. "Hang on Ratchet! I'll get help!"

The medic hardly noticed that Orion was already gone, but he continued to wrestle with red giant until he felt something painfully snap below his knee joint. Once that happened, Ratchet knew he would lose his footing, so his best bet to get away would be to tuck and roll. Despite being in pain, he managed to leap over the miner and partially crawled over to a waste bin. He found out it was empty when he was dragged away from it, and then slammed against something solid. It turned out to be the opposite wall, and his helm was the first to make impact and hard. So hard that he nearly lost consciousness, and his vision began to blur.

"Frag you… You Pit forsaken waste." The vile giant hissed as Ratchet struggled to keep his thoughts straight. Out of nowhere he heard a sickening click in front of him and his years of medical training told him exactly what it was. "Well… Since you're here anyway. You can take that little spike bite's place!"

"No… No, no, you don't have to do that…" Groggily, Ratchet lifted his wavering servos, one of them covered in his own cycled Energon, and tried to create a defensive space. Of course the miner ignored the invisible perimeter and immediately started to fondle his newest victim in the most intimate of places. "Hey come on… If you stop now… I… I won't report…"

"Just stay quiet until you pass out. I don't need you conscious to get what I need—Woah!"

Ratchet wasn't sure what happened next. One minute he was being violated, and the next he was alone and exposed. Taking a deep enough intake, he managed to slightly open his optics. Everything was still hazy, but instead of just one fuzzy red blur, there was now an even larger silver one. They looked like they were trying to merge together with the silver coloring being the dominant blob. The next symptom to Ratchet's concussion was a wave of burning vibrations between his audio receptors. Loud crashing and clashing rang in the small space and the louder they became; the greater Ratchet's helm ache grew. When he couldn't hear the crushing of metal and armor, he could now clearly hear his own gasping of pain.

"Ratchet…" The silver blur knelt in front of him, and two small red lights danced in the middle of the fuzz. Slowly the lights dissolved into blue before Ratchet finally let go of CPU's fight to stay online.

-END-