A/N: To give people some quick reassurance, the title of this story 'Only Just a Dream' is JUST to signify the dreams and stuff Ratchet is having. All that he's going through right now in this story REALLY is happening to him. Also, warning for sexual content ahead will be censored with generalized descriptions.

Chapter 17

The Rebel's Embrace

Ratchet landed his ship on Sargasso, fifteen miles away from Rivet's garage. Far enough to not raise suspicion but close enough to manage going back and forth. Right by his landing spot sat a small abandoned warehouse. The male lombax gazed upon the falling apart steel cabin and sighed. Not the prettiest to look at it, but it was inconspicuous enough. Inside his metal back compartment groaned the orange bot he had soaked into an offline state. Remembering the information this VIP thing shared with his target made his hair stand on end. He looked at the clock built into his suit, was five am, he didn't have long.

Going inside, Ratchet activated a small green night light bright enough to illuminate the creaky interior. Low glowing frequency, it hid well against anyone that might've wandered by. But that was unlikely, given how far out into the forest this spot was. Perfect place to interrogate and hopefully nothing more.

Ratchet removed the robot named VIP and hooked it to a metal bench slid out into the corner. He got some spare chains and clipped them onto the legless hover bots forearms and neck. Once the locks were firmly in place, he hooked the second sight of wires around his antenna ears. All the connections, wire and chain, traveled back to a large offlined monitor. The male lombax sighed when his victim was securely latched into place.

"Chains should keep him in place," he mused to himself while double-checking the wires. "But the cables should keep him offlined, so restraints won't be needed." Clicking in a few buttons on the computer, it powered to live and revealed an inner digraph of his prisoner's inner blueprints. Inspecting the sight for a bit, he hm'd in thought. Not as complex as he thought, maybe this bot was just a sort of… secretary or messenger to Bridger.

"Hope you have my answers," Ratchet growled as his thumb flipped two switches at once. Electricity sparked through the cables and zapped VIP. Bringing both his optics to life.

"W… where am I?" The bot squeaked as he shook his head to clear his vision. Optics zoomed in and out, he hesitantly scanned the area and locked eyes with Ratchet. His lights flared up in fright as he quickly made a dash backward, but the restrains yanked him back into place. He looked to the chains in fright and shot Ratchet a horrified look. "What do you want!"

"Information," his deep disguised voice rang out, scaring his prisoner with its deep ominous tone. Good, Ratchet internally growled, this bot better be afraid. "Your last client… what is her name?"

"W—where is my parn—OUCH!" A clawed gauntlet struck him across the face, leaving deep scratch marks scraping across his left face panel.

Ratchet held his hand in the air, claws stained from the orange paint of his prisoner after smacking the hell out of him.

"Let's get one thing clear. I ask, you answer. That's all you need to know… and all you need to do. The answer, then you're free to go." He walked around the tiny bot, giving him a clear view of their size difference. "Refuse and I'll have no choice but to…" Ratchet felt himself trail off a bit, familiar pangs of guilt trying to work their way inside. No, he forced it back down like swallowing a nasty mouthful of medicine. This had to be done, he cryptically turned his visor back to the VIP bot.

"I rather not spend any more time chatting. Answer my question, your last client. Her name?"

VIP trembled a bit, looking away from his assaulter. Tightening his tiny digits in anger, the action rattled the chains. Ratchet stared at him for several seconds, the messenger bot still refused eye contact. Taking a step forward, the disguised lombax delivered another clawed smack to the other side of VIP's face. Leaving another set of similar claw marks on both sides of his face. The robot wept out in pain as he sank into his seat, shivering at the powerful blows.

"I don't know her real name… s—she just said…" he buzzed out from a trembling voice box. "Her 'name' given for money transfer was… Product #777-11-000… not a real name. But it's all she gave me, p—please I swear, that's all I know of her name!"

Ratchet recorded this information on an audio tablet before turning back to his prisoner. "Product number? Odd, but that'll work. Where is she located?"

"I swear I don't know, Bridger never asked for personal home addresses. Please don't hit me… I swear I don't…" his eyes pinged open as he quickly looked to Ratchet. "B—but I can tell you where they met to perform business contracts!"

Ratchet crossed his arms, keeping his back to the bot. "What… did he do for her exactly?" He drew a saw from his wrist, letting the bot see his reflection in the offlined weapon. "Remember, no lying."

"We're hackers… make people disappear or fabricate information about someone if they have the bolts to pay for." VIP shuttered in fear, gripping his oozing cheeks in a failed attempt to hide his pain. "S—she never gave reasons why, Bridger never even asked… b—but she's hired us before. Many years back, when the emperor was still in power. S—she messaged us, first time we heard from her… wanted us to… send stranger coordinates to some rebel leader or something."

The male lombax felt his muscles tense beneath the armor. Slowly turning to face VIP, he brought his weapon closer to his face. "Rebel leader… What coordinates? Where did they lead? Answer!"

"I—I need time to pull it up in my memory banks, please! I can get them in the next couple of hours!" he coward away from the saws, only going as far as the chains would allow. "I store everything in my CPU files, that's what Bridger designed me for, keep track of our records! But there's so many… i—I need time to upload exactly what you want… please just give me a little time!"

Ratchet disengaged his saw and stepped back to the monitor. Looking into his reflection for a bit, he gave a synthetic-sounding sigh. "You have until tonight when I return… you better have ALL the information up. Every single bit." The former hero turned around and slowly loomed back over VIP, "if I find out you sabotaged this in any way… I promise, you'll be shipped off Sargasso in a scrap metal bin for leftover junk. Understand?"

"Y—yes I promise."

Ratchet turned and planted his hands against the monitor desk, staring at it for a few seconds. He looked back to the bot. "Can you do this stuff offline?"

"Y—yes, usually Bridger will switch me to sleep mode and do it manually…" he suddenly powered off, limbs going limp like jelly.

Ratchet removed his claw from the offline switch and plugged another cord into the back of VIP's head. Hitting another switch at the base of his suit, it powered the monitor to life. All the information began downloading from his prisoner's head and into the computer. He sighed and massaged the metal that protected his neck. The wound beneath his chest armor suddenly sparked up, paralyzing Ratchet's legs as he fell to the ground.

"A—ack… not now…" blood dripped from his mouth as he quickly removed the pills from his chest compartment and swallowed them. It took only a few minutes for the pain to fade. Struggling to his feet, Ratchet wobbled till he became steady. "It's happening more than I expected…" he whispered while opening his visor to clean the droplets of blood from his mouth. His eyes glanced back to his prisoner locked away in sleep mode. "For your sake, hope this data is accurate…"

Yawning, Ratchet swished his visor back on and exited the room. He placed his palm against a hand scanner, the device eloping his palm in a green glow till it accepted it. All sorts of lasers and defense guns came online. A force field quickly covered the main entrance as Ratchet shut the door to conceal his secrets within the shack.

"I… I need rest…" he dragged himself back to his ship, shoulders sagging so low it felt they were going to collapse. The armor detected his exhaustion and artistically folded itself away. Once his body was completely exposed, Ratchet smoothed his sweaty forehead hair back. Into the ship he went and flopped into the front seat before groggily taking the controllers in a weak grip. Thank goodness his hideout was only fifteen miles away.

Fighting back a yawn, Ratchet turned the autopilot on. His ship's turbojets sprang to life, hoisting itself into the air. Following the pilot's instructions as it turned its hull and followed the internalized computer maps to the location of Rivet's garage. As the ship shot away, Ratchet couldn't help but stare at his reflection. He cringed at what he saw.

Dark circles hung low beneath his eyes, along with his usually brushed fur becoming all prickled like a cactus. Dang, he looked like a complete wreck. How was he going to explain this to Rivet or his friends? Ratchet froze at the latter thought, forgetting the beautiful stars that zoomed by his cockpit. What… would they say if they knew he was going this? Ratchet shook his head and looked back to his controllers, away from his reflection. There wasn't any free will going on, he argued with consciousness. It was all out of his control! How can he respond to this stuff? Just sit there like the goody two-shoes he previously was and let his friends and love get killed?

Ratchet massaged his sore neck, desperate to relieve the growing tension. Of course, he didn't like doing this stuff, he especially didn't like lying. But what else could he do? The Lombax sighed and shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. Deciding now was not the time to mentally debate this. He'd have to let the guilt chew him up another time. Right now, there was a bed waiting for him… and he was desperate for sleep.

Eventually, he made it back to Rivet's garage, still dark outside, which was typical of Sargasso's early morning hours. Sun wouldn't rise till closer to ten am, and it was barely past 5 am. Ratchet sighed in relief, leaving his armor in the ship and wobbled inside. His breathes were heavy as he tried to pace himself with his steps. One foot at a time, one breath at a time, gently in and out. No one was awake he noted till making his way into the main section that consisted of Rivet's workbench.

As he slowly laid down on the couch, he felt something warm propped next to him. Raising an eyebrow, he moved the sheets and saw white ears poking up with sleepy blue eyes groggily looking up at him. He gasped as he scampered back, Rivet slowly sitting up in his usual sleeping spot. Ratchet awkwardly sat at the end up the couch, arm and leg up in a defensive stance. Clearing his throat, he settled down and smiled sheepishly as the sleepy-eyed female lombax.

"Uh, Rivet… what are you doing there?"

"I…" she yawned, turning over to reveal she wasn't wearing her mechanical arm. "Woke up a few minutes ago, saw you weren't there, and… well… figured you went to the restroom. Didn't want to bother you."

Ratchet noticed she had sweat trickling down her forehead with a slight shiver in her one good arm. He gently reached forward and clasped his hands on her shoulders. "Rivet… did you have another nightmare?"

Looking deep into Ratchet's eyes, the female lombax bit her lip, grabbed his elbowed, and yanked him towards her mouth. The kiss startled him as she anchored her arm around his waist and tugged him closer to her waist. Both slipped back onto the soft couch, bodies meshing against the soft material. Confusion hit and shattered the window of Ratchet's mind as he opened one eye to gaze onto Rivet's face. Her eyes were shut, lost in a deep trance of deep need as he anxiously rubbed her body against his. Tail ruffled in sheer want as she tightened her grip on his waist. Aggressively pushing against his backside, but gentle in her stomach shifting over his.

"Rivet… I don't… understand, what's wrong?" he asked nervously, feeling her one good arm reach to his pants.

"Please don't push me away anymore… I can't take it…" she whispered a heavy breath into his ear, body shaking as she struggled to undo his shorts with one hand. "My nightmare came back… I… t—thought I lost…" Rivet struggled as she finally got his shorts down and clamored her mouth back to his. Teeth biting onto his lips, preventing him from asking any more questions. It was clear to Ratchet that with the rising heat between them the white one-armed rebel was through playing around. Her passive-aggressiveness was shown with how roughly she kept him beneath her, but how gently they pushed against each other.

Ratchet felt his hands begin to move automatically to her own baggy sweatpants. Still remaining beneath her, he had less trouble removing her own as she did with his. When her hand came to remove his shirt, he quickly relocated the grabby limb to his waist. Their lips remain locked as she seemed to try and suck his very essence from his mouth. He wanted to ask what had come over her, but the intensity of her groping and gnawing him was clear this behavior was pre-planned. Not just compulsive, but a need grew from a massive seed of want. She was not letting go and clearly had enough of his playing dumb.

"Rivet…"

"Shhh shh…" she parted her lips to shush him before going back in for another make-out round. With one arm, she clumsily managed to get Ratchet to move his bare knees apart and allow her easier access to him. Their bodies moved against one another, awkward and out of place, but after a few minutes of grunting, they eventually fell into peaceful sync.

Their movement was strong but steady, Ratchet took precious care of the one-armed female in his grasp. Her grunts came and went, mixing in with his own as they nibbled each other's necks. Friction was present between their furs as their pants laid lonely on the couch. The furniture rocked a bit as the only light that gave away their private act was Rivet's dim work light. It kept time, something the mated pair clearly didn't as sweat turned their fur shiny.

It started to speed up as Rivet picked up the aggression a bit, roughly shoving his head against the couch's arm. Her hand clasping his own as Ratchet laid her free hand over her pack. He tapped her shoulder, encouraging her to slow down a bit. Which she eased up her aggressive speed to a more reasonable rate, but still rough-ish nevertheless. Rivet put her lips back against his mouth, he felt her hand go to his backside and play with his tail before grabbing him. He jumped a bit, but Rivet used the weight of her body to keep him pinned despite not having a right arm to do it. His fur was brushed down to a smooth feel as she massaged the area before going up against his lower back. This made the male lombax shiver as their act started to wear him down.

Sensing his loss of energy, Rivet gave him a light little smack, re-igniting his pace. She smiled and titled her head, sighing in pleasure as Ratchet managed to push her back beneath him. With him now in the dominant position, he smirked down to the female lombax and went at a different pace. Keeping her surprised with different movements while her arm kept him super close. Which made it difficult for him to do anything super creative, but the closeness made it feel like he was melting into her.

After several more minutes, the pair finally tired out with collapsed quietly next to each other. Sweat drenching their fur as they gifted the other with goofy grins. Rivet laid on her side, panting a bit as she extended her hand cupped Ratchet's cheek. Feeling a few indentions where she accidentally clawed him, she smiled apologetically.

"Sorry…"

"It's fine," he moved to lay long ways as the female scampered to lie next to him. Her arm grabbed him and pulled him close to her again. Their eyes exchanging longing looks made tired from satisfaction. Their lips locked again as Rivet ran her hand along the back of his head, massaging one of his ears.

"Why don't you… take off your shirt…" she breathed a bit tiredly, eyes darting from his own to his chest. Playing with the hem of his shirt for good measures.

Ratchet looked at her for a few seconds, eyes seeming to be lost in a million-yard gaze. He was clearly looking at her, but his attention was elsewhere. Contemplating her request till he finally came back and shook his head.

"I'm a little cold, maybe next time…" he smiled at her, rubbing the side of her amputation scars.

This touch eased the rebel's tension, as if not feeling helpless without her bionic arm. Right here with the male helplessly pulled against her, it felt… so right. Rivet smiled as her body continued to melt into his as if trying to meld themselves into one lombax. What would it be like, she wondered, to truly become one?

Looking into Ratchet's eyes, Rivet stroked his cheek, all the love in the world present in their touch. Eventually sleep found her, cascading her eyes in intrusive darkness. She fought to keep her heavy eyelids open, but a gentle caress from Ratchet reassured her it was okay. He was not going anywhere; this fact made her racing heart simmer down to a gentle beat. With all relaxed around her, she finally found the courage to go to sleep.