Time Scale: Nano-click: second ; Cycle: Minute ; Groon: an hour ; Mega-cycle: days ; Orn: 13 days ; Steller Cycle: year ; Vorn: 83 years.

Chapter 27: A shoulder to Lean On

Optimus' spark was fluttering in his chassis as Sentinel slowly sat down next to him at the meeting table. He had no idea why, but for some reason he felt kind of breathless as if his spark was telling him to 'not fuck this up'. His spark was even beating in his chassis like a panicked little thing going on its first date.

Frag. Maybe Ratchet was right. He really did like Sentinel a lot.

Maybe he will try to talk to him.

When it was convenient for Sentinel of course.

Like that would every happen.

Sentinel treated him like a cyber-plaugue when he wasn't full out ignoring him.

Frag, this wasn't the time to be flustered about like a school girl, but he just couldn't help himself. It was nice to be near the other mech. In fact, he couldn't help but smile warmly at Sentinel as the blue mech sat down next to him. Sentinel even acknowledged him by offering a curt nod. Yet, Optimus' smile couldn't help but quickly fade.

Sentinel looked terrible, and he wasn't talking about the faint scars that still littered the blue mech's chassis from the fall. He honestly kind of liked the scars. He had his own from Megatron's final battle after all, but right now Sentinel just looked like he was ready to fall over. And his color … it was so pale. He didn't look well at all. If anything, he should be in the medical wing being flounder over by some kind of medic and his apprentice.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one that noticed because that was the first thing out of Magnus' mouth.

"It is good that you finally joined us, Sentinel Minor. Cliffjumper said you were indisposed, unwell even. I see now he wasn't exaggerating. Are you even well enough to participate in this meeting? You may head over to the medical bay, and though he's not exactly clearance, I can allow Cliffjumper to observe in your stead," said the Magnus, frowning deeply. In fact, everyone now was looking at Sentinel.

Sentinel just wanted to shrink away as every set of optics fell onto him. He didn't need this kind of attention. Cliffjumper was bad enough with his near constant mothering, but to have all these mechs questioning his health as well.

He really should have stayed at Breakdown's.

Helm sensors flattening against his helm slightly, Sentinel tried to think of a quick excuse. He had learned from an ever growing list of lies that the thing closest to the truth was the easiest lie to uphold. Quickly placing the cube Cliffjumper had given him down with his digi-pads, Sentinel murmured, "Yes, sir. Just … tired. I will be fine. Just haven't had my morning energon yet."

Magnus merely nodded and then sat there patiently waiting as if he wouldn't continue this meeting until Sentinel Minor had his morning (well, afternoon really) intake. Sighing, Sentinel stared down at the cube Cliffjumper had given him earlier. It obviously had additives in it if the swirling metals and coolants inside were any indication. Great, just the kind he hated, medical grade.Unfortunately for him, it was also the only kind Cliffjumper would bring him anymore. He had to either go out and get his own energon, bring some with him or be forced to drink whatever Cliffjumper brought him during work.

Slagger thought Sentinel before opening the cube. He tried to drink it as quickly as he could, but still ended up half-gagging on the peta-flesh metals on the bottom.

"Disgusting," finally murmured Sentinel when he was done, blatantly ignoring the half smiles on Jazz's and Optimus' facial plates. "Now, what seems to the matter, sir? Cliffjumper wasn't able to give me very much information, but there apparently was some type of break in?"

Ultra Magnus nodded and started to tap away at the table, a floating holographic screen popping up for the table. It was then followed by several other screens, each seat receiving its own floating screen.

It was surveillance of the Magnus walking down the hall. It was late last night given the time indicator on the video and most of the halls were partially lit to conserve energy. It didn't seem like anything special until the Magnus stalled and turned his head. It was as if he heard something. He then headed slightly down another hall where the camera couldn't quite reach. He stalled at a door that was slightly open, pulling out his service weapon. He acted like was going to step inside, but then there was a flash of something black and the Magnus was slammed into the opposite wall.

It was shocking and over so quickly that it was merely a blink of the optic. Many of the mechs in the meeting brought their fingers to their personal screens to rewind the video or zoomed in, slow motion barely even able to catch a blur.

Before anyone could even inquire though, the video poor, Magnus continued, "The next image is from the room itself. Room U12-D, old record storage. Most of the video when I walked into the room was static, but before that, this is what we have."

The next video was a few cycles before the Magnus walked by the hall. At first, it just showed a slightly dim room of sub-space filing cabinets. Then, the screen going staticy for a moment, right at the bottom of the door was a black blotch. It was a forming darkness which slowly formed into grisly fingers before suddenly jerking at the underside of the structure. It jerked once or twice more before shimming its way into the center seem of the door. It then slowly forced the door open. Yet, just as the door gave way, a darkness seemed to crawl into the room like a creeping fog. The faint light in the room was suddenly useless until the image became staticy and then finally black. The camera kept recording though. It was as if it was just recording a dark room and nothing was damaged.

Before anyone could even digest that video, Magnus was speaking again while hooking a jack from the table into his own wrist. The next video was obviously from the large mech's own memory files. He had just looked up for a digi-file, a faint clicking filling his audios. He then turned towards the room, pulling out his service weapon. Even with the Magnus' first person view, there was barely even a glimpse of the figure in the room before it slammed into the large mech. The only thing for certain was that there was figure in the data room and that he or she had grabbed a hold of one file, erasing it. There was no way of telling how man files they had destroyed or altered before Magnus showed up, but the thought was troubling.

Kup, frowning, squinted at his screen, all the videos frozen on the black blur. His words were troubled as he chewed on his cy-gar, "What is that? It's like a black blob. It looks like something I'd hacked up once in the medic's office."

"Perhaps you should stop smoking then," pried Heatwave before he zoomed into his own screen, adding, "Most likely it was too fast for the screen to catch a full image."

Kup merely frowned as the rest of the table continued as if he hadn't personally been singled out.

"Now, it's more like its incorporeal? Perhaps it's some type of shifting equipment or fog equipment that's helping him blend in with the surroundings," said Brainwave.

"Doubt it. Usually there is a slight shimmer to that technology," interrupted Perceptor.

"The real question is what they were destroying," commented another, the room filled with voices.

Sentinel Minor, meanwhile, was stuck staring at one part of the video. He watched a loop of those black fingers repeatedly circling over and over again under the bottom of the door. It was … it was frightening. Looking at those dark black-rust fingers reminded him of being trapped in the dark again, injured, just waiting for something to come and end him. For some reason all he could think of was the tale Sonic Trip had told him. The tale of a, "Shadow."

Despite himself, he had said it aloud, barely above a whisper. Optimus had caught it though.

"A shadow?" said Optimus. "Is that a name of a mech or something that special intelligence is after?"

Suddenly, everyone was looking at Sentinel. The mech stalled. Mind struggling for an answer while not wanting to sound superstitious. He floundered. "It's just that … it looks like a shadow. I was thinking of what to call this perpetrator for the file until we figure out his real name."

Staring at his own screen, Magnus nodded, "I agree, but I think we have something more important to do … like figure out what was on those files. Sentinel, can you please scour data-collections to see if any other files were damaged or corrupted. Perhaps you could even find a backup for what was on that file. Brainwave, can you please look at the digi-file itself. Perhaps you can find the programs he used to hack into it. All those files are protect as well as the cabinets they are stored it. Perceptor, look into whatever that … shadow … equipment was and -"

And that was how the rest of the meeting continued, mechs debating and looking at the evidence. Sentinel, personally, was just struggling to remain online. For it seemed that Cliffjumper's medical cube had more additives in it than he initially thought. There were apparently minor pain killers. He might not have even noticed if it was a usual day back after having his spark caved into, but since Breakdown had had him already on pain killers when he stormed out … he was finding it hard to concentrate. It made him wonder how long Cliffjumper had been secretly medicating him. It probably explained why was so adamant in the past about giving him his cubes after an appointment.

Interfering slagger and yet he couldn't bring himself to be completely angry. Either way, he was pleasantly numb now, and no one seemed to notice he was almost high. Everyone was too busy bouncing theories back and forth. No one but Optimus that is.

He only reason he noticed the glazed optics at all was because Sentinel was so numb he had unknowingly placed his pinky digit over the top of Optimus' pinky digit on the table, their small digits slightly encircling each other. Sentinel's form was almost leaning towards him as well. They were so close that Optimus had to keep from blushing, the Prime glad for the nearly dark room as everyone re-watched the videos.

Well … apparently someone noticed. Jazz was trying his best not to smirk across the table.

Oooh, he knew he was right about that little crush on Optimus' part. And thought it wasn't exactly the right time to be dwelling on something as mundane as matchmaking, Jazz always loved a challenge. He also wanted to mend some bridges. That was probably why he jumped at the chance to volunteer himself, Sentinel and Optimus to go through data files that night.

Frag, none of them were going home after a security breach like this anyway.

At least someone should get to enjoy it.

…

"What do you mean I am not old enough to use the space bridge!" screeched Sari, the tone of her voice causing the security mechs to twitch. Her Cybertronian might have been a little broken, but she was sure her point came across.

"Now, little missy," said the older security bot that was sporting a visor. "Even going to a well know Autobot colony, someone your age requires an adult to go with yah. But this E-art isn't even an Autobot colony for that matter a documented providence of the Autobot Commonwealth. Apparently, from what I can fine, it populated by organics as well. We ain't letting a young femme wander off to Primus knows where."

The younger red mech next to the blue visored mech nodded in agreement with his partner. "I agree. Do I have to call the youngling centers or do you have a caretaker? We need to give them a call. What could be so bad that you want to run away to an organic infested planet?"

"Its called EARTH!" screamed Sari, the swords in her arms threatening to come out of their sheaths. She even thought about dropping her face mask to scare them into action, but that would just cause panic. Fanzone had told her the tale a few years before he died. Autobots did not react well to organics.

Putting his hands up in a calming motion, the red mech continued to try and pacify her. "Now, now. No more screeching or we'll call in the Military Guard to come take you into custody. You are disturbing the peace. Now, I'll ask again, what is your creator's comm number?"

Sari, behind her mask, was on the verge of tears. Her father was dead, she was trapped on a planet where beings were afraid of her face, she was nearly two hundred years old and was being treated like a five year old, Ratchet was basically telling her he was her new dad, and her real dad's body was probably getting chopped up as a science experiment while she stood here. She didn't even get to have a real funeral. It was … was too much.

Despite herself, despite knowing that she was probably proving the two security mech's right, she fell to her knees and started sobbing. It wasn't even the graceful kind of sobbing. It was the kind of wailing that made ever mech within hearing range turn and stare and her choked sobs. It was messy and loud and she was even dripping energon tears from her mask. It was a pathetic display, and she didn't care. She just cried harder. She didn't even really know why she as crying. She was just thinking of every human she had ever known and there mortality, and how she was going to be ostracized all over again. Wasn't high school bad enough? Why had the Allspark made her this way at all? If Primus was real … he would have let her fry with her father.

"Hey, hey, hey. None of that. None of that," said the older blue mech as he stepped forward and picked the femme up without hesitation, a large hand rubbing her on the back as he tried to calm her. "Shh, shh, youngling. Its okay. Its alright. Burnzone didn't mean to scare you with the Military Guard. There, there. Calm down. Just tell old Wavelength what's wrong and I'll do what I can."

Hiccuping, Sari tried to collect herself. Part of her felt this was degrading while her young spark was more than content that someone was holding her, that an older spark was trying to comfort her. She just … she just didn't want those around her dying anymore.

Patting her back, having raised more than one sparkling in his time, Wavelength glared at his young partner before gently asking, "Now, there we go. Just calm down. Everything's okay. You are safe. No one's trying to hurt you. Now, who's your creator, huh? I'm sure they are worried about you."

Then, as if in answer, a medical vehicle came tearing in their direction. A moment later an aged yet seemingly active Autobot slid to a stop in front of them. The two security bots didn't even get to question the mech's hurry when he quickly transformed and stepped up to Wavelength with open arms. His vents were panting as he pratically begged, "Sari? What's going on? Give her to me."

Wavelength, petting the femme's back struts again in a comforting manner, stared at the older mech's offered arms. Wavelength wasn't just going to give a crying child to anyone. Yet, the moment two other forms transformed and stared at him, he realized there was no need to worry. The femme had a symbol on her chest giving her away as someone from the youngling centers.

Slowly handing over the small form of Sari, Wavelength couldn't help but state, "Youngling was trying to get passage to the space bridge. Stopped her, of course. She said something about wanting to go to Ergth."

Ratchet, sighing, his spark singing in relief as he held Sari close, could only murmur, "Thank you for stopping her. There's noting there for her anymore … And it was called Earth."

...

Ooooh he hated Jazz.

Fraggen hated him.

True, Sentinel knew that this meeting was going to drag on late into the evening, but he at least expected to go home this evening. Currently, they were finally finishing up with the endless dispute of what it was, who sent it and what it was after. In truth, nobody knew. If anyone knew, they wouldn't be having a meeting about it. Someone would be acting. Sentinel knew he was going to get stuck with most of the heavy lifting … well, his department was, but regardless he did not want to spend the rest of the night sending mechs out to Primus knows were to look for information on shadow figures and destroyed information.

Worst of all he was stuck with Optimus and Jazz.

Ugh, two of the worst mechs possible.

Well, at least he wasn't in pain. His spark had been surprisingly calm sitting there next to Optimus all afternoon. Maybe he should actually get Breakdown to recommend a painkiller to him. Given how much agony he was in this morning, he was surprised he hadn't passed out half-way through or at least lost his energon.

Then again, he was two shakes from being high off of painkillers.

"Well, that will be all for tonight," finished up Magnus as he rose to his feet, signaling towards the door. "I do hope that tomorrow we will have more information on this menace. Optimus Prime, Sentinel Minor, Officer Jazz … thank you again for staying tonight. I know someone of lower rank could be sent to scrutinize the files, but just in case its something sensitive its best a mech of the correct rank has access to it."

Everyone rising to their feet to end the meeting, Sentinel almost sighed in relief only to suddenly feel his equilibrium tremble as he stood. Both Optimus and Heatwave saw him stumble, each reaching forward to catch him. Once again, everyone was staring at him as Optimus' helped him sit back down.

Magnus was even staring at him, frown deep. Yet, before he could say anything to question Sentinel's poor health, Cliffjumper skipped in and place a cube of medical energon before the ex-Prime.

"Your medical cube, sir. You missed it due to the meeting. I also made a new appointment with the Autobot Military Clinic next orn, since you keep missing your appointments," said Cliffjumper, loudly and purposefully and oh he was going to kill him.

Magnus caught on immediately, his words purposive. "Sentinel Minor, you should have said something if you needed more medical grade. It is important that you mind your health. So please make sure you show up to your appointments."

Frowning, his glare biting into a smug Cliffjumper's form, he turned his attention to Ultra Magnus and murmured, "Of course, sir. I'm so grateful Cliffjumper remembers for me."

Nodding, the rest of the mechs now exiting, Magnus stood there long enough to watch Sentinel open his medical energon and take a sip. He gagged on it slightly, but managed to finish it with a mumble of, "Disgusting."

Magnus nodded and clapped the sitting mech on the shoulder, adding, "If you do not feel well tonight, please feel free to leave early. And do make sure you go to that appointment. You do not look well Sentinel."

Nodding bitterly, glare burrowing into Cliffjumper's armor, Sentinel mumbled, "Of course, sir."

"Good to hear," added the taller mech as he walked away, Optimus and Jazz standing at the door waiting patiently for Sentinel.

"You will pay for this," mumbled Sentinel softly as he collected his files, Cliffjumper leaning over to assist him. He would have got up then and there, but he was waiting for the energon to settle in his systems. He basically was trapped.

Cliffjumper, pretending to grab a file, but instead placed a hand on Sentinel's wrist, checking the electric flow in his body much like a human would check a pulse. His words were biting as he gathered the last of the files together for Sentinel. "Well, maybe if you had willingly made an appointment with a proper medic, I wouldn't have had to use trickery. You are looking worse and worse Sentinel. You spark pulse also seems weak. You will go to that appointment or I will drop a hint around the right pair of audios that you didn't."

Frowning, finally getting to his feet, he resisted the urge to act against his assistance. Cliffjumper … never questioned his personal life. For that alone, he would do nothing. Right now. It didn't stop him from stomping off towards the exit, Optimus and Jazz giving Cliffjumper a look.

Shrugging, the red mech mumbled, "What can I say. He hates taking his meds."

Watching the mechs walk away, Cliffjumper sagged slightly. He hadn't wanted to basically blackmail his superior into going to a proper medic, but after seeing how much pain Sentinel was in that afternoon … he decided enough was enough. He was not going to allow that butcher, this private medic, to have one more session with Sentinel Minor.

Not one.

If he ever found out the medic's name, he would ruin him.

Either way, Sentinel was now going to a real medic even if it earned him his superior's ire for a few orns. If Sentinel couldn't help himself, Cliffjumper would do it for him. Besides, he deserved it after abandoning him upon their meeting. He still didn't know why Ultra Magnus hadn't fired him on the spot.

…

"So much information," mumbled Jazz as he collapsed behind his pile of digi-pads. It felt like they had been going through files for groons. "Anyone else find anything?"

Optimus, across the table, merely hummed a response.

Sentinel said nothing, causing Jazz to look up and promptly snicker. The Minor looked ready to fall asleep.

"Yo, you going to make it SM?" asked Jazz, causing the mech to sit up with a start. "How about some energon?"

Shaking his helm, trying to perk up, he unknowingly said, "Sure."

He kept nodding and nodding as he browsed through the next files though, recharge trying to take him. He wasn't sure how long Jazz had been gone or when Optimus had sat down next to him, but he was almost too tired to care. He really did hate Jazz right now, but at least he was suffering with him. Most of this stuff was useless documentation about downed Decepticon ships on unexplored moons and old space rumors that no one ever followed up on.

It was useless information dragged in from the dregs of space and stored in a storage room that no one cared about until it was broken into.

This was going to take forever.

Despite himself … his head tilted a little further down.

Meanwhile, Optimus honestly couldn't lie … this was kind of exciting. There were so many files about the ancient war, rumors so old that they seemed to fall into the range of fairy tale. Most of it would be considered useless given how old the files were, but apparently something was important enough that somebot wanted to hide it.

Looking at the list of departing ships in the beginning of ancient war, he noticed that there was a small error. A single inconsistency. The word used predated the document. It was slang created about sixty vorns ago and was only recently was considered a proper verb about twenty vorns ago. The document was vorns too old for the word. Most young bots wouldn't notice. Frag, even someone like Ratchet might not notice at first glance, but he was a history buff and something like that would be considered a huge inconsistency.

"Hey, Sentinel. Look … at … this!" Optimus' words died in his throat though as he turned his head to his left and looked at the mech next to him. The blue Minor's optics were offline and he was dozing, his form shifting to and fro until he was suddenly leaning against Optimus' shoulder.

Optimus' spark jumped in appeasement just from being close to the blue Communication's Officer. Frag, he wanted him so bad he couldn't even express it. He just knew that … Sentinel would never want him.

"You'll never know until you ask him," came a voice in reply, Jazz suddenly popping up on Optimus' right side making the mech jump slightly.

Swallowing, giving Jazz's coy smile an annoyed glare, the Prime mumbled, "Ask who? What?"

Giving the Prime a disappointed look, Jazz waggled his finger. "Now Optimus, do I look stupid? The moment he touched your hand in the meeting and just now when he touched your shoulder … you looked like the happiest mech in the world. Optimus, ask him."

Frowning deeply, hating how right Jazz was, Optimus murmured, "He's recharging right now. You saw how … bad … he was today. I didn't even know he was in pain."

Jazz's smile did falter slightly at that, the visored mech shrugging, "Yeah, well. A fall like that. I doubt you recover easily, but I'll hit old CJ up for information as soon as I am able. But … just ask him before he finds someone else. You don't want to miss your chance, do you?"

Shoulder's dipping slightly, Optimus shook his head, the young mech almost whispering, "I don't want to frag it up though. I feel like one false move and he'll hate me even more. I don't even know where to start. I just … I don't want to frag this up."

Nodding, noting that Sentinel did know how to hold a grudge, Jazz patted the other on the back. "Well, how about old Jazz trail him for a few days for you? Maybe I can scar something up like his favorite dinner or something. Then we can make it look like an accidental meeting. As easy as it is to find him at work, I wouldn't recommend it. He's all about the work when my man's here. No amount of shameless flirting and fawning is going to make it through Sentinel's work-face."

Optimus nodded in agreement, feeling his spark flutter as Sentinel leaned a little more on him. Then, thinking about it, he asked, "Not that I'm not thankful for the help Jazz, but why help me?"

Smiling wickedly, Jazz admitted, "Because you are borderline pathetic when you're crushing OP, no offense. Also, I was figuring, that if you can get back into his good graces, maybe I can as well. I don't regret bringing the hammer to you, I never will. It saved Earth and probably kept Prowl from completely deactivating."

Optimus frowned at the ninja-bot's softening words, but merely nodded for the older mech to continue.

"It didn't … I didn't mean to push Sentinel away though. I knew he was still crashing from Soundwave's torture. It was cruel of me. And he might be tough and chewy around the edges, but he's also kind of needy like an irritating bratty little brother. I wanted to smack him in the back of the head, repeatedly, but I never once felt he wouldn't have my back in a battle," admitted Jazz. "Nowadays, when I see him in the hall, it's like he grew up too fast and is just keeping his helm above water. I don't like seeing him worn out and breaking down. I want him to talk to me again, to confine in me. I want him to silently be in awe of my skills and yet deny it just as quickly. I miss the irritating jerk. So do the jet twins. They are afraid he's mad at them as well."

Sighing through his vents, Jazz finally added, "Well, what I'm saying OP is that … I want you to put in the good word for me, will you? I want jerk-face back. He might have been a pain in the skids, but he was my pain in the skids."

Optimus chuckled softly at that before nodding, "Deal. Now, tell me what you think about this file. Is it just me, or does it look altered?"

…

A few groons after the initial drama of the day, darkness falling over most of Cybertron, Ratchet found himself standing over Sari. She was now asleep in his berth. She probably hated the hard surface. Cybertron wasn't exactly know for its textiles after all. He would have to make a trip to Earth and grab the last of her things. At least she had one of her blankets. She was hugging the thing like a doll right now, but at least she was still sleeping. It gave him time to think.

Closing the door behind him, Ratchet's vents stuttered. What was he going to do with her? Today had been awful. She had to act up in front of the youngling caretaker and the mental health investigator from Autobot headquarters. He didn't know why they hadn't been taken Sari from him on the spot. He couldn't lose her and Reboot. It would crush him.

Thankfully, neither representative seemed to blame him for Sari's outburst. They merely allowed him to put her too bed and then the real stress began. He hated paperwork. It took forever, and Rung made him want to second guess everything he said during the evaluation. He felt like the fragger had been marking up points, reasons, to say he wouldn't be an acceptable caretaker.

And then there was the request again for him to make a medical chart for Sari. It had to be approved by a medic that wasn't him. There was no way around it. And then there was the question of creating a caretaker bond. Could Sari even form one, and what of Reboot?

Sighing, thinking it was high time for some high grade and some of the cy-gars that he kept hidden on the top cupboard, Ratchet didn't even make it halfway across the habitation suite when there was a small ring at the front door. Tightening in the shoulders, worried that Sari was going to rise and start panicking again, Ratchet rushed to the front door, almost barking, "Optimus, it was an emergency groons … ago."

His words failed him. Generally, only worry-bots like Optimus would visit him at this time of night. Not complete strangers.

Well, mostly complete strangers. It was the security bot, the blue one, from earlier today.

Staring a moment more at each other, the blue mech seemed to realize what was wrong and promptly introduced myself, "Oh, oh. Sorry. Forgot to introduce myself. The names Wavelength. We met earlier."

The mech then offered a hand out to Ratchet so that they could clasp at the wrist in greeting. When Ratchet just continued to stare at him, the mech vented and pulled back his hand. "So … are you going to invite me in?"

Frowning now, crossing his arms over his chest, Ratchet blatantly asked, "And why the frag would I do that? Its the middle of the night and you are a complete stranger. I have a young-bot to look after. I ain't letting a complete stranger into my house."

Coughing his vents again, seeming even more nervous, the mech looked over his shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck before he looked Ratchet in the optic. "That's why I'm here. About the young femme. I'm guessing she came from off world, right? She obviously never really spent any time in the care centers either, correct?"

Not liking where this was going, Ratchet bristled, "What are you getting at? Are you threatening me?"

Waving his hands in front of him, shaking is head, the blue mech finally sighed, leaning in to whisper, "I-I couldn't help but notice her wing nubs when I was rubbing her back. Most mechs would think they are going to be door wings, but I … know better. She has Decepticon coding, doesn't she?"

Ratchet had to catch himself, his spark skipping. He then turned his head to and fro to see if anyone was listening. Of course there wasn't, the neighborhood was dark for the most part. Stepping into the door, he invited the other mech in with a curt nod. Swallowing, closing the door behind him as he offered the mech a cube, Ratchet tried to think of an excuse. They were wing nubs. Unfortunately, that is a Con trait. Yes, the Allspark gave them to her, but there hadn't been an Allspark created mech or femme in generations. There just weren't winged Autobots … except for the twins. Poor kids. Then, somehow, they became pawns for the Autobot Guard. They never got a childhood and were glitched likely from the lack of emotional care.

They never found the fragger that abandoned them to die in an alley.

Giving the mech a cube while sitting down across from him at the table, Ratchet's words were soft as he glanced at his berthroom door, "What do you want … for you silence?"

The mech nearly spit out his energon. He quickly put down his cube and surprisingly put a hand on top of Ratchet's, his words soft, "No, no, no. You misunderstand. I … I want to help you. I didn't come to hurt you or that little femme."

Drawing back slightly in suprise, the blue hand keeping him awkwardly seated, Wavelength added, "First off, I'm glad that you took her in, even though she has Con in here. Most kids, like my carrier, were left to rot on the streets. I would have too if my carrier hadn't found someone to make some … alterations to my form and records."

A sinking feeling was forming in Ratchet's gut, especially when the met reached up and took off his visor, revealing one stunning blue optic … and the other red. He was obviously a half-breed. The mech blinked a few times, before he added, "I couldn't help but overhear some of the things the care center femme was saying, about needing proper documentation for the bonding and the little femme's health records. You and I both know that if a normal medic gets a hold of her, she either become ostracized as some kind of half-breed or she'll just have enough Decepticon coding in her to be taken away by the Autobot Guard. No one will ever see her again."

Ratchet swallowed, part of him admitting that was a true, but he said nothing.

"Well, what I wanted to say was … I know a mech that can help you. Some call him a butcher, and maybe its true, but a lot of couples have sparkling with nubs or red optics or ingrained weapons upon birth. Problems, you know. He's the only one in the area that will deal with the problem," said the mech carefully, hoping his point was getting across.

Oh yeah his point was getting across, loud and clear. This medic he was talking about was a butcher. He was disfiguring sparklings by cutting off nubs, breaking out optics and removing vital coding. He probably did abortions and Primus knows what else. And yet, he couldn't find himself to be mad. H-how had he never known that there were half-breeds like this on Cybertron disfiguring themselves willingly just to stay on the planet.

Swallowing, his vocals resetting yet still staticy, Ratchet murmured, "T-there's nothing wrong with Sari."

The blue mech smiled at that, a genuine smile. He look Ratchet's smaller hand into both of his larger ones and held them for a moment. Ratchet almost blushed at the attention as the mech stated, "You are right. She is beautiful. She will be a beautiful femme, but just in case something pops up or you need something tweaked, take this card. His name is Breakdown. He will take care of you."

Ratchet, almost too sick to do much else, accept the digital little card, part of him almost horrified when he realized that all his needs had just been met. He could get triple-changer code, a fake carrier-bond verification and even door wing covers if need be. Maybe even an imager to give Sari a metallic face.

He just had to make a deal with a butcher.

XXX

Paw07: My loves! I'm sorry its been so long. Too much stress and poor Sentinel's tale of woe fell to the way side. Hopefully you won't have to wait that long again for an update. Sorry if the chapter was a little dry, but I think it turned out well regardless.