Ratchet blearily blinked his eyes open, and let out a long and intense string of rough curses when the light hit his face.
Squeezing his eyelids shut, he automatically tried to access his internal systems so that he could dim the amount of light entering his eyes. When it didn't respond, he became vastly confused as to why his systems were ignoring his commands.
He tried to reboot his visual sensors, but the thought just increased the headache he had not noticed until then.
Ratchet grumbled under his breath as he planted a hand on the ground to lever himself up into a sitting position. He noticed that the ground had a different feel under his hands, but he brushed it off as being a malfunction from being knocked unconscious.
The medic still hadn't opened his eyes as he tried once more to reboot his systems. When that failed, he began to worry. When a mech couldn't access their own systems, it could signify that there was a frame-wide system failure going on. Taking some deep breaths before he panicked, Ratchet slowly opened his eyes.
Well. This is weird.
There were approximately ten humans lying haphazardly around the ruins of the base, which was odd because last time Ratchet checked, the base had been abandoned right around when the Autobots and Decepticons decided to use it as an impromptu battlefield.
While he was trying to figure out what the frag all these human, unconscious ones at that, (there was something familiar about them, but he couldn't put his finger on it) were doing, his brain caught up to his eyes.
The ground was a pit of a lot closer than it should have been.
Ratchet slowly blinked a few times before a dreaded sinking feeling settled into his stomach. He took a breath to compose himself as he exhaled and looked down.
The first thing he noticed were his digits (hands?). They were tan, rough and calloused, proof of years of hard work, yet they clearly held the dexterity and steadiness of a surgeon.
These were his hands, he was sure of it.
His hands started to shake minutely as he explored the rest of his new form. He had one a plain black t-shirt underneath a deep red and white colored button-up jacket. The jacket had the Autobot insignia embellished on one side and the generic red medical cross on the other.
He ran his hands hesitantly over his stomach, taking in the feel of the fabric. That was not something he was used to.
The pants were a dark gray and tucked into a pair of sensible black combat boots that seemed scuffed and well-worn. He flexed his toes and marveled in wonder at the feeling of having separate digits on his feet.
Shaking his head to clear the momentary distraction, his hands wondered back up to his face. He felt his chin and the slight stubble that seemed to be there. His nose felt crooked, mirroring the nasal plate on his actual mechanical form.
Straight red hair was sensibly pulled back into a low and short ponytail. When Ratchet pulled some around to more closely examine it, he noticed there were a few thin silvered strands mingled in with the bold red.
Ratchet took a few more deep breaths before he lost his mind. This was certainly an unexpected development.
This…will definitely take some getting used to.
As he pulled himself away from his own thoughts, he scanned the barren field which had been so full of energy not so long ago.
As he surveyed the land, Ratchet let out a groan as he put two and two together and realized that the humans he saw lying unconscious earlier must have been both his fellow Autobots and the present Decepticons.
The medic slowly made his way to his feet, trying to adjust to the feeling of his new legs. Putting a foot forwards, he stumbled momentarily before catching himself and moving on.
Ratchet glared as he caught sight of the machine from earlier. It was a molten pile of scrap metal at this point and there was metal debris lying across the ground that had been a battleground not long ago.
He managed to easily put the simple factors together despite his pounding headache and came to the realization that the machine explosion must have been the cause of their current predicament.
As he was quietly musing what his next step should be when he heard a quiet groan coming from his right. Glancing over, he saw one of the humans moving slightly, bringing a hand up to their head and shaking it.
The medic quickly made his way over to the other human, and was stunned momentarily when he realized who exactly this mech (man?) was.
Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobot army, Protector of Cybertron, and bearer of the Matrix of Leadership shook his short blue hair as he moved into a sitting position on the ground.
Ratchet quickly moved into a kneeling position next to his leader and helped him to sit up all the way while deftly placing a hand on the other man's wrist to check his pulse.
Never had he been happier to have studied human medicine when they realized that they were stuck on Earth.
Pleased with his findings, he turned his attention back to his friend. Noticing that Optimus was clearly trying to gather his wits, Ratchet stayed silent until the man looked at him in confusion.
The Autobot commander didn't seem to at first comprehend the magnitude of what was happening, but Ratchet suddenly noticed something shift in his leaders bright blue eyes and he could see the man's brain click into overdrive.
The Prime quickly scanned the battlefield and Ratchet could see the moment that Optimus figured out the situation by the way that the man's eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth tightened into a straight line.
The Autobot leader glanced back at him and Ratchet saw Optimus look at him with a critical eye.
"Are you alright, Ratchet?" The Prime said in his deep bass. Ratchet was slightly comforted by the fact that his leader's voice had not changed.
Ratchet nodded and waved him off.
"I'm fine. Are you okay? I don't exactly have my scanners." He said bitterly.
That was something that was irking him. His scanners and tools let him diagnose and treat his patients to the best of his ability, and without them, he felt useless. Sure, he had thoroughly studied human medicine, and knew how to diagnose and treat most illness and injuries, but his tools were a part of him. He felt sort of naked without them.
Optimus read the bitterness in his voice and gave him a small smile.
"I am okay, old friend. But we seem to be in quite the situation." He said as he frowned and regarded the other humans who still lay unconscious around the base.
Ratchet snorted. "Understatement of the cycle Optimus."
The medic straightened his knees and stood up straight, stretching out a hand and helping Optimus off of the ground, steadying the taller man when he wobbled slightly. The Prime brushed the dirt off of his red and blue military style jacket and stretched his arms to adjust to his new and unexpected body.
Ratchet observed Optimus rub a hand over his scruffy face and freeze, realizing the loss of his face mask. He knew that Optimus could remove the mask at any point in time, but normally chose not to. The man was obviously a bit disconcerted by the loss.
Once the CMO made sure that Optimus wasn't going to topple back down to the ground, he left his commander to go check on the other Autobots.
Wheeljack was the first one that Ratchet found. He quickly pushed up the sleeve of the other man's lab coat and checked his pulse.
Strong and steady. Good.
Ratchet lightly slapped at Wheeljack's face, carefully avoiding what looked like a split lip, until the other man began to stir.
Wheeljack managed to shake off the unconsciousness faster than both Optimus and Ratchet had, which was most likely because he was constantly knocking himself out with explosions and experiments at the Ark.
Ratchet snorted at Wheeljacks salt and pepper curly hair and barely managed to suppress the sudden urge to make an old age joke, even though the other man could have been older than 40.
If Wheeljack is that old in human years, how fragging old am I?!
Ratchet quickly pushed that thought out of his head. He could worry about his mid-life crisis later.
The engineer made it quickly to his feet, seemingly unconcerned about their human predicament. Ratchet didn't find it odd, he knew Wheeljack was an expert at going with the flow. Plus, he thought, Wheeljack would be delighted to run experiments on the machine to figure out how this happened.
Once Ratchet was confident that Wheeljack was okay, he continued his efforts to wake the other Autobots. Optimus had already woken Prowl, clad in a police officer's jacket, who looked seconds away from fritzing.
(Ratchet wasn't even sure how that would work as a human, and hoped he didn't have to find out.)
Ironhide had woken up on his own and was, as usual, always eager for a fight. He was wearing a military camouflage jacket over a red muscle shirt and was enthusiastically ready to lay into the first thing that looked at him wrong.
Leaving the other men to sort themselves out, Ratchet made his way over to the twins who were laying in what seemed to be a large pile of limbs. It seemed that they had been in the middle of their jet judo when the blast wave hit and both the twins and the seekers had gone down in a big pile of unruly bodies.
Sideswipe was sprawled across Thundercracker like a blanket and the formerly blue seeker was curled slightly inwards on his side. Skywarp somehow managed to land across the entire pile, sprawled out like an octopus with limbs going every which way. Sunstreaker was belly down on the ground, being squished by the slightly larger man's weight.
Ratchet snorted and wished to Primus that he had a camera. This would have been excellent material.
Quietly mourning the missed blackmail opportunity, Ratchet went about slowly maneuvering the twins away from the jets so as to not wake up the Decepticons before the Autobots.
He successfully managed to pry Sideswipe away from Thundercracker without waking the latter and was in the process of bringing him around when he was startled by a sudden groan.
Praying that it was Sunstreaker waking up and not either of the Cons, Ratchet warily turned around.
His heart dropped as he noticed Skywarp tensing and moaning his way back into consciousness. Realizing that the time for stealth was over, the medic firmly planted a foot on Skywarp's side and rolled him off of the formerly golden twin. The Con grunted as his head hit the ground and Ratchet made short work of hauling Sunstreaker's gangly body away from the waking Decepticon.
Sideswipe was already sitting up and running his hands over his body when Ratchet managed to drag Sunstreaker to him. When Sideswipe noticed his brother, he rushed to his side, cradling the other twins face in his hands and placing their foreheads together.
Ratchet was stunned to realize that the brothers were identical as humans instead of fraternal as they had been as mechs. They both had raven black hair, though Sideswipe's was cut short and Sunstreaker's was a bit longer and tied in a tight ponytail. The brothers both wore similar clothes; the slack t-shirts tucked loosely into black cargo pants not too dissimilar to his own. The colors of their shirts corresponded with the colors their mechanical bodies had been.
Sunstreaker was beginning to come around at the same time both Thundercracker and Skywarp were shaking off their bouts of unconsciousness. Ratchet strategically placed himself between the still prone Sunstreaker and the Decepticons. He knew that the golden twin was not currently in any position to fight back if the Cons decided to attack.
It was all for naught though as Thundercracker and Skywarp seemed more interested in staring stupidly at their new bodies than attacking the still vulnerable Autobots.
Ratchet snorted at the flabbergasted expressions on both the Decepticons faces just as a loud shriek echoed across the field.
Turning quickly, his eyes focused on the source of the noise.
A black haired man clad in a red, white, and blue pilot jacket was staring in horrifying awe at the hands held out in front of him. The man shakily turned his hands over, examining them from every angle before desperately pressing on the side of his head. Ratchet knew he was trying to access his systems, and was failing for obvious reasons.
Ratchet perceived the moment that Starscream's higher brain functions took over and the former mech managed to get a handle on his minor panic attack. The former mech took a deep breath in and planted his feet more firmly on the dirt, as if to physically ground himself in the present.
Ratchet almost felt bad for the seeker; the loss of their treasured wings had to be an immense shock.
Seekers used their wings for much more than flying; they were a communication device. Their emotions were more intricately expressed on their wings than anywhere else. Not only that, but their wings were the most important part of a seeker. They were made for the sky, not the ground.
To be grounded for long periods of time could prove dangerous.
The loss of wings seemed to be unbalancing them and Ratchet could see all three seekers rolling their shoulders, tensing and releasing, trying to adjust to the feeling of not having the extra weight on their back.
Taking another glance around, the red haired medic groaned as he realized that the other Decepticons had begun to wake up too. This was going to mean a whole lot of trouble, he could just see it now.
Ratchet rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance, cursing every deity that he could possibly think of for getting them into this mess.
Carefully avoiding any human that he identified as an enemy, he slowly made his way over to Optimus, who was gradually herding the Autobots into a condensed group a short distance away from the waking Decepticons.
Thank Primus one of us had the notion to separate us. Ratchet thought wearily. It would not have ended well if we were left scattered and mingled.
Ratchet had just reached the gathered Autobots when he noticed that Megatron himself had made his way, albeit unsteadily, to his feet. Soundwave, clad in red sunglasses that obscured his eyes, was right by his side in a moment making sure the Decepticon leader was stable.
The warlord was glancing around the battlefield, deep red eyes pausing on the destroyed machine before moving on. After a few moments, he had obviously managed to put together exactly what happened more quickly than Ratchet had originally anticipated.
As much as Ratchet hated to admit it, Megatron was exceptionally intelligent. One doesn't lead an entire faction for millennia without being so.
The medic turned his attention back to his own faction and narrowed his eyes as he glanced over the aligned Autobots, looking for signs of injury or illness. Never before had he been so grateful to have studied human medicine. He had been against it at first, but after an unfortunate incident with Spike, Wheeljack had managed to convince him to learn everything he could about human anatomy.
He had spent countless hours meticulously scouring the web and any other materials that he could get his hands on. He watched lectures, read medical journals, and studied until he felt that he was proficient in human medicine and his knowledge rivaled that of a human doctor.
Ratchet put this knowledge to good use as he examined his fellow soldiers.
It seemed none of the other warriors had any major injuries. They all had minor scratches and blossoming bruises on their arms and faces, most likely from the explosion and subsequent landing on the harsh ground.
Sunstreaker was nursing what looked like a sizable bump on the back of his head, and Sideswipe was guarding what looked like a sprained wrist. Wheeljack had a few drops of blood on his lab coat from his split lip, which had seemed to have stopped bleeding.
Finishing his quick exam, Ratchet noticed Ironhide massage at the side of his knee, and Optimus was absentmindedly kneading his left shoulder.
It made him wonder if whatever ailments that they had in their original bodies had been transferred over into their new ones.
If so, Ironhide was going to struggle with arthritis in his knees, Wheeljack was going to be more susceptible to concussions, and Optimus was going to have issues with his long since damaged shoulder. Prowl was going to get painful headaches and the twins were going to have aches from previously broken bones and injured joints.
Ratchet grumbled internally at the thought of dealing with bodies that were much harder to fix that their mechanical ones.
It did seem that the injuries from their most recent battle had not transferred over. Ratchet had to be thankful for small mercies.
No matter what, he was going to need to brush up on his knowledge of human medical treatments and surgeries.
His attempt at mentally cataloguing and reviewing his human medicine was interrupted as Optimus cleared his throat in an attempt to get his men's attention.
All Autobot heads swiveled around at the sound of their leader's voice and in an instant they were all standing at attention, waiting for direction from their commanding officer.
Optimus put a hand up.
"At ease. There is no need for formality in this situation. As you can see, we have found ourselves in a predicament."
Ironhide snorted. "You could say that again."
Optimus continued. "Nothing like this has ever been recorded in our written history. We will need to focus and make a plan before we act on anything. This is all uncharted territory and we must proceed with caution. As for what exactly happened,…"
He paused to take another glance of their surroundings before looking to Wheeljack.
The older man was staring intently at the broken piece of metal in his hands. The engineer quickly sensed someone watching and glanced up, blushing as he dropped his hands.
The Autobot leader inclined his head toward the engineer, which Wheeljack took as a go -ahead to start talking.
"To be honest Prime, I have no idea what happened." He shrugged. "From what I could gather, the humans were trying to make a DNA scanner, but failed."
Sideswipe poked his head into the conversation.
"Can you explain that, ya know, for those of us who don't speak science?" He said cheekily, giving Wheeljack a grin.
The head engineer developed his own grin and nodded excitably at the prospect of being able to discuss science.
"Well, what the machine is supposed to do is scan a sample of DNA and target any incorrect sequences. Things that would cause deformities or other problems in a human offspring for example. Its supposed to target that specific strand and alter it so that it fits better into the sequence therefore drastically decreasing any chanceofdefects-"
"Wheeljack."
"butthisseemstohavetakenourwhole-"
"Wheeljack."
"strandofCNAandtriedtocorrectitbutobviouslythatdid-"
"WHEELJACK!"
The engineer abruptly shut his mouth at the sound of his name, and gave the assembled group a sheepish smile while he tried to catch his breath.
Ratchet shook his head.
"You need to learn to take breaths when going off like that." He chastised.
Sideswipe scratched his head. "So, in simple terms...?"
Optimus stepped into the conversation to summarize.
"It seems that when the machine malfunctioned, it read our CNA as being 'wrong' and attempted to correct it in its entirety, therefore leading to our current predicament."
The former Lamborghini nodded. "I get it. Kinda."
Sunstreaker gave a weary sigh and planted his head in his hands as his twin beamed at him and flopped over his shoulder. His answer was so drop his shoulder and watch apathetically as Sideswipe hit the ground with a yelp.
Smartly ignoring the impending argument between the twins, the Prime turned back to Wheeljack.
"Is there any way to reverse the effects?"
The engineer scratched his head, already forming equations and working out calculations.
"Probably?" he said finally. "I would have to rebuild the machine and try to recreate the accident, but make the default CNA rather than DNA."
Optimus nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but was abruptly cut off as the air was suddenly filled the loud sound of a resounding smack.
All heads instantly swiveled to the source of the noise just in time to see the Decepticon second-in-command hit the ground.
Megatron stood over him, scarred face turned red, surrounded by thoroughly uninterested Decepticons. Ratchet managed to pick up a few stray words of their hushed conversation, including a hissed "Traitor" and a noticeably higher-pitched but defiant "Frag off!"
The warlord seemed prepared to resume his ranting when his eyes narrowed and he twisted his head in the direction of the gathered Autobots, lips twisting into a sneer.
"What the frag are you looking at?" He snarled "This does not concern you."
Ratchet saw Optimus's eyes narrow into thin slits as he felt his own face form an expression of disgust. None of the Autobots had ever condoned Megatron's treatment of his second-in-command, but it wasn't like they had any authority over the interworking of the Decepticon army.
Optimus stepped forward, full of righteous fury, and Ratchet knew the beginning of a "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings" speech when he saw one.
The Autobot leader was interrupted again as Megatron waved his hand impatiently.
"You can save the 'freedom' speech. You've been preaching the same slag for the last couple millennia."
Optimus grit his teeth at getting brushed off, but firmly held his temper down as Megatron continued.
"My Air Commander and I's…" Megatron waved his hand around idly. "…disagreement does matter. However, the catalyst of it does in fact concern you and your Autobots, so it seems fitting that we involve you."
The warlord straightened his back, giving him a few more precious inches of height even though he already towered over everyone present, and began to pace.
"You see, we seem to be at an impasse. My lieutenant here seems to be under the impression that we should attack; strike you down while you are vulnerable in these forms."
He paused to give the assembled Autobot's a predatory grin.
"However." Megatron waved his hand as if he was tossing the thought away. "I do not believe that is beneficial to us. Both of our armies are weakened by our current predicament and a full-scale assault would simply end in a stalemate."
Megatron paused, and turned towards the Autobot's as his face morphed into a serious expression.
"However, I have my own suggestion. I propose a truce."
There was dead silence across the field and time itself seem to freeze in the moment. Ratchet was, for once, speechless.
A truce? Megatron wanted a truce?! Absurd.
A barking laugh, devoid of any humor, broke the stillness.
"A truce? A truce?! You ain't getting no truce, you slagging pit-spawned motherfu-"
Ironhides' furious tirade was quieted by a glare from Optimus, but the former van continued to mumble expletives under his breath.
There was a muffled snort from one of the Decepticons. Ratchet didn't see who made the noise, but his credits were on Skywarp if the irate look Thundercracker was giving his now sheepish trinemate was any clue.
Optimus, after making sure there would be no more outbursts from his army, took a cautious step forward.
"What are you proposing, Megatron?"
Megatron took his own step forward to answer.
"As I said before, I suggest a truce. Optimus, at this moment, our past alliances no longer matter. Not while we inhabit these…" He looked down in disgust. "…bodies. This predicament transcends our factions. We need to work together to solve this problem. With our advanced equipment and your men's scientific minds, we will be able to reverse the machines effects."
As he had been speaking, Megatron had been moving steadily across the empty space between the factions, and only stopped when he was only a little over arm's length away from the Autobot leader.
Ratchet growled a warning as Ironhide took a threatening step forward, and Megatron simply raised an eyebrow in response.
Optimus shot them a withering look, but the medic just gave his leader his best unamused glare as an answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ironhide doing the same thing.
Breaking contact with his troops before he did the undignified action of rolling his eyes, Optimus turned back to the Decepticon leader, straightening his spine and crossing his arms across his chest.
"A truce between Autobot and Decepticon. How long do you expect that to last?"
Megatron smirked. "As long as it's mutually beneficial."
Well that was brutally honest.
"And when our proposed shared mission is complete?"
"We go back to what we have been doing for the last slagging millennia." Megatron replied, obviously annoyed. "But for the time being, it is necessary for our factions to work together. You know as well as I, Optimus, that this is our best chance, even if neither of us are fond of the exact circumstances."
Optimus was silent for a moment, and Ratchet had been around his friend for long enough to know when he was conflicted.
On one hand, Megatron may be right. Ratchet thought. And the possibility of a truce is too good an opportunity to pass up. On the other hand, they are Decepticons. Deception is literally in their names. Can we really trust anything that he has to say, even if it would indeed benefit them?
Ratchet gave a slight shake of his head. He was exceptionally glad that he was not in Optimus' proverbial shoes at the moment.
After what seemed like eternity, but in reality was only a few seconds, Optimus came to a decision.
"It seems that this is indeed the best course of action." Optimus agreed, and his tone became cold as he continued. "As this will be a truce, I will not tolerate any antagonizing or attacking of my soldiers, and in turn I will ensure that the same applies to your troops."
Starscream let out a loud snort in the background, and Megatron shot him a warning glare. The seeker glowered right back at his leader, grinding his teeth. There seemed to be a silent conversation, and after a few moments, Starscream huffed and looked away.
Turning back to Optimus, Megatron nodded.
"Agreed."
Megatron extended a hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Optimus steeled his shoulders and took the offered hand, shaking it once and making the truce official.
Ratchet took a second to bask in the moment, for it was the first proper truce made by both faction's commanders during the entirety of the war.
Maybe this is the beginning of the end of this war. If we can work together now, perhaps something good may come out of this in the long run.
Ratchet could only hope that the end was in sight.
The field was quiet as the factions sized each other up. There were a few nerve-wracking moments of silence until the tense air was broken by a sheepish Wheeljack as he stuck his head out from the assembled Autobots.
"So, does anyone know how we are supposed to contact base?"
