Now better, thanks Beta!

So, all thanks goes to ! Khalthar !

I am not making money with this story. And Transformers isn`t mine, just my poor OC^^


His pedes were heavy, so unbelievably heavy that he thought he would drag them behind him with every step. Thank Primus for Hound and Jazz, both were by his side, the former stabilizing his swaying frame while Jazz had his servos full with more cubes of lowgrade energon. Both mechs had insisted on walking him to his own chambers even though he had resisted at first. Ratchet knew that the mechs behavior was not only born from concern for him but also from concern and protectiveness over the newspark that was now being housed in his frame. At first the glances and soft touches from Jazz and Hound were distracting and unwelcome but now … Now he was thankful for them both. Without them he would surely miss his own chambers, but his friends were guiding him along, scaring off possible interceptors with growls and hisses. Ratchet didn't even bother to concentrate on that.

It was so hard for him to concentrate on walking or even on existing, he was dead on his pedes, all his circuits nearly sparking from the strain from this fragging daycycle, from his worries and his hopes. His focus was set solely on the small spark in his chassis, which was now slowly moving around, searching every corner it could reach. Sending him loads of curiosity, warmth and most of all, unconditional love; it was one of his primary reasons to keep going, to just set one pede in front of the other and repeat.

"Ratch`? Pal, we're `ere. Door's open. Do ya need more help?" The voice ripped him out of his thought processes and without his consent his servo rose to cover the latch to his sparkling chamber as his optics traveled over the two mechs beside him and then through his dark quarters. Hound protected his back and Jazz flanked him, it was a sweet gesture and maybe the two weren't even aware that they were shielding him from possible attacks but that was the nature of their protective protocols.

Sparklings, younglings, and newsparks were causing this reaction while around other bots, regardless his own faction, although it seemed that the Decepticons had erased this type of protocol from their helms. Jazz's own protocol must have onlined itself as Prowl found his youngling. So the Twins protocols must have onlined too, as a femme Moonracer's own guardian and protective protocols were always online. And Hound's own must have onlined after finding the small one, so this was all explainable.

A soft sigh escaped Ratchet's mouth plates as he slowly walked into his own chamber, his optics focusing on his berth, but with a near unworldly effort he turned around again and stared for a few moments at the two mechs which were hovering at the door, their optics never leaving his own frame.

"No, no Jazz. Everything is fine now. Could you please put those cubes down on the table? I will need them through the rest of this nightcycle." With a deep humming sound Jazz glided through his quarters, leaving the cubes as requested before turning around again and leaving. He nodded as a last greeting and started walking away, Hound at his side after giving a last grin.

The mechanical door slipped shut with a soft thud, leaving Ratchet in darkness and near silence. Two heavy sets of pedes were now leaving, by the sound from outside, leaving him all alone in the dark, alone to his overworked and frantic mind. A mind that would normally now be conjuring picture over pictures of his mistakes.

But not now.

Not here.

The dark was actually comfortable right now, after many, many cycles the dark wasn't so bad anymore.

He could rest now, be safe here. And never again would he be alone, at least not for a long time to come. His newspark would live with him now, sharing his chambers with him. Lightening his darkness, his own ray of sunshine.

On one side, he had just put more on his daily workload, more work, more worries, and generally more to do with this new life in his chassis, on the other side he was now a Opiluk, a creator, he had a newspark to care for, someone to love and be loved in return, someone to brighten his cycles from now on. Someone he could love with no strings attached and who wouldn't betray him for another bot.

He had longed for a family unit of his own for more than a few decades, but he'd never found a femme to start a family and now with the war, he had thought he would offline all alone, in the dark. It was his worst nightmare, but that was now over. He had a small femme or a small mech in his chest, resting inside of him and recharging. Feelings of love, serenity and calm washed over him as he inspected his newly formed bond with the newspark. He would have to wait for a few hours before he would even dare to open his latch to get his small one out of his chamber to check it over again. He could feel that everything was all right for the time being and it greatly calmed his spark to know that.

A small smile flickered over his lips as he sat heavily on his berth, his optics wandering through his room, taking in all his furniture. A worktable, a bookshelf, a chair, a berth and a small night table was all there was to his room, nothing more, nothing less. A small mountain of datapads was collapsed all over his table and his bookshelf was nearly bursting with more pads.

As he leaned back he grabbed a new pad from beside his berth, there were always new pads there. His frame came to rest against his metal berth, his eyes following the opening screen of the pad. He would have to make a list and send to Wheeljack for some new items for his newspark and he would have to make another list for possible names. And a list for possible caretakers if he should be too busy. There were so many things to care for now and he was so tired, but if he could postpone it till the next working cycle he would lose precious time for installing all the new items.

A shiver of delight ran over his frame as his thoughts tumbled over images of his small one, of him opening the latch and catching the newspark, inspecting it, hearing it laugh, tickling it, spending some time with it, finding a name and so much more. His processor loaded randomized pictures of several frame types, colors, appendages to his optics, generating possible forms of his newspark. He would love to know what rested inside of him, but it was too soon, after all the small one had to get through. So he had to be patient and wait and make lists. And he would need to deliver the important lists tonight.

He just hoped that Wheeljack would forgive him for this late disturbance.


He could only stare at the Datapad he found in the morning in front of his door, to be precise in his `emergency box` as it was labeled. There everybot could place a Datapad with information and requests for him at night, when he wasn't here or if they were scared to be caught up in an explosion caused by one of his new experiments.

To his luck, there was only one `Pad in his box this very cycle.

To his misfortune, it was filled with rather odd requests.

Requests that were causing his optics to flicker and his hands to shake. The Datapad from Prowl from last evening was understandable and he had worked hard and long to get the first items for the youngling done. And don't get him wrong, he had been curious what had happened with the newspark his team had saved, but he never, he never would have thought…

Blankets

A small tub to bathe the newspark in

Sippy cups

Toys, like puzzles and blocks or balls

A music device

Some spark friendly Datapads for drawing

A crib (just in advance)

His optics roved over and over the list in his servos again, sure it was rather short but clearly this list was not solely for himself. Some things like the blankets, he would have to search for and others, like the crib, he would have to talk to some other `bots to work with them. A few things, he would definitely build by himself, that much was clear.

Wheeljack leaned heavily against his door, committing the list to his memory files, right beside his own very first glance at the small ball of grayish metal in Jolt's shaking servos. For a few terrifying moments he and his team had thought that they had lost the young one, it had been so cold and lifeless in the young medic's servos and he could still hear Jolt's hushed words of encouragement although his voice was trembling with emotions. He could still…

He pressed his back against the crumbling wall of a former building, now just a large pile of dust and rubble. Sharp ends of pipes were digging into his outer frame, scratching his paint and some points were even scratching deeper but not drawing energon. He held as still as he could and he was aware that one of his hands was firmly set on the young medic's shoulder, prepared to shove him aside or just to throw himself in front or on top of the smaller mech in case of an attack by the Decepticons, which were slowly walking by, not even 150 meters away from their hideout.

Beside him Ironhide was grumbling slightly but keeping his head down like they all were doing. The huge gargantuan black mech was stock still, breathing hard. Like himself Ironhide had placed one of his big servos on Jolt's shoulder, trying in vain to reassure the mech. Just to Ironhide's pedes sat Jolt, his hands protectively wrapped around the small precious ball, he was shivering and his optics were shut closed. Nearly soundless whispers left his mouth, maybe talking to himself or just maybe talking to the slowly fading source of warmth in his servos. Hound was crouching over the now silent Smokescreen, the Praxian had gone into stasis lock not long after leaving the hospital and Hound had been carrying him ever since. Now he had one of his weapons online, one servo clutching the Praxian's not bleeding shoulder.

He ground his dentas hard, trying to concentrate on the situation at hand and it was so hard not just lean forward and engage the three Decepticons in battle, to just let them suffer like the countless now offlined frames that were thrown to the streets like a bag of garbage. It was hard not to move, not to give them away but they had a wounded mech and a sparkling with them and alone for the newspark this whole ordeal would be a certain death sentence. His optics followed the offending bots as they slowly faded into the fogged and dusty city, or what was left of it.

A sudden movement from the mech under his servo caused his helm to swivel around, his optics instantly focused on the small medic and his now shaking frame. Ironhide grunted as a form of question and Wheeljack himself just tilted his helm to the side.

"NO! Nononononono! Don't you dare do this to me! PLEASE!" Jolt's whispers were now just dropping from his lips, begging the small form in his servos. Coolant was slowly gathering in the medic's optics, slithering down his faceplates as his frame got warmer and warmer, his internal heating turned on to maximum levels. Wheeljack's servo felt like it was burning, so warm was the mech.

"Come on, just stay alive! We are nearly there! Don't give up! I promise you, we will help you, you are not alone! Just hang on! PLEASE!" he was now begging and nearly sobbing as he curled his overheating frame over his servos.

With a loud grunt Ironhide bent down, grasped the medic under his legs with one arm and the other was set behind his back and he just lifted the whimpering young mech into his bulky arms. Without much more than an alarmed glance he started running, gently so as not to jostle the medic and the newspark around. Hound had done the same to Smokescreen again and Wheeljack himself brought up the rear, his weapons out and ready, his spark pounding harshly in its chamber.

He gasped as his memory files powered down again, leaving him shuddering, leaning against his door again. They had been just in time to get both the Praxian and the newspark into the medbay. He and Ironhide were not allowed to enter, because then they would be too many and Ratchet would have probably pelted them all with his dreaded wrenches. (Where he kept his supplies, nobot knew…)

He had thought that the newspark was offlined, at first it was just a whisper in his processor, but over the night, after nobot had told him anything about the small newspark, he had just thought that all their valiant efforts had been in vain, but now…

A huge grin spread over his mouthpieces, under his facemask. He would make sure that Ratchet would get the best supplies he could lay his servos on and he would be the bestest uncle ever!

Cheering he turned around and all but jumped to his workspace, communicator online and chattering at different mechs at once, Hoist and Grapple just two of them.


A soft chiming sound from his door woke Ratchet up. His optics were very hard to open, he was just sleepy and tired and he had the strangest dream about himself, Jolt, Hound, and Jazz. Something about the three of them throttling him to a slow death because he had forgotten something important. He knew it was something small and important, and not just to him. Real funny was that after Jazz had severed his body from his helm, Jolt rebuilt him so that Hound could pummel him into the blackness of the void again. And the last thing he could see was his small sparkling, ever changing frames and faceplates, smiling down at him, waving goodbye to him.

So much for a good nightcycles rest…

The chiming sounded again and grumbling Ratchet swung his legs over the side of his berth, swaying his way over to the mechanical door, opening it with a deep grunt and scowled full of disdain at the offending mech in front of him. The smaller mech in silver and with a visor stood unperturbed in his doorframe, a sly grin adorning his faceplates.

"Jazz? What do you want? I could have had a lot more of recharge if you hadn't woke me! So it better be good or I WILL reformat you into a fragging TOASTER!" he growled, baring his dentas at the still smiling mech.

Jazz chuckled slightly and bent under Ratchets arms, inside the room, dropping a few things that he had carried onto Ratchet's desk.

"Ah was just commin` by to drop a few things off. `Jack commed meh and ah thought ah would call in a few favors from others. And now ah am curious, do ya know now what the smallspark is? Mech or femme?" the saboteur grinned at Ratchet and sat on his only chair, leaning on the backrest.

"No, I just woke up. And the smallspark is still in recharge. I can feel its calmness. No I don't know what gender my newspark has, but I am just as curious as you. I thought that I could check on it after breakfast and after checking up on the medbay." He pressed out between his dentas, one hand possessively placed over the latch to his sparkling hold. Ratchet strode over to his desk, looking over the items the saboteur had brought him.

There were three items deposited there, a huge green blanket made of very soft fibers. Sewn on it were small star-constellations, comets and a moon, all in a purple color. Then there was a small pillow in the same color scheme as the blanket. The last item was a small golden ball like thing, the inner workings were encased by a red globe which was rotating around itself and this red globe was in a golden, but see-through ball.

Cautiously Ratchet lifted the ball in his servo, observing the rotating globe inside. Once it had turned around he lifted his optics to meet the soft smile on Jazz's faceplates with his own.

"Thank you."

Before Jazz could respond Ratchet's door swished open again and sent a laughing Wheeljack right into the room, stumbling over his own pedes. Ratchet's optics widened as he calculated in instants that Wheeljack would barrel into him, which would lead to them both crashing into the work desk. Instantly his arms rose over his chest, trying to protect the new life in him.

"WHEELJACK! NO!" There was another voice, calling out desperately to the now falling inventor, nanoseconds before mentioned inventor yelped and was pushed down hard to the ground, facemask first.

Ratchet blinked, not understanding, before his optics traveled up again, now landing on the smaller, dark and blue mech sitting on Wheeljack's back, hissing and growling loudly, hitting the back of the mech's helm once as if the loud clacking sounds and the screeching of metal wasn't enough already. The downed inventor yelped in pain and lifted his arms in surrender before the enraged younger medic could hit him again.

Jazz sashayed over, placing himself slightly in front of Ratchet, taking a position so he would be able to defend the CMO, his tilted helm and his straight and tense posture were the only indicators that he was angry and pissed as well.

Loud chuckling shattered the tense atmosphere and all helms turned to look at the next intruder. Hound was leaning heavily against the frame, chuckling loudly, just barely restraining himself from laughing out loud.

"I told you! I told you not to run! And not to use the emergency override for access! And I told you, you would drop your delivery! I could work as a fragging oracle! But who could have known that our small, gentle Jolt would tackle you like Chromia, when she hasn't seen her mate for several solarcycles!" Now he was howling with laughter, barely holding himself up.

Jolt blushed, his faceplates warming up and taking on a blue hue thanks to the energon rush to his face. He idly draw doodled on Wheeljack's back before he noticed his position and scrambled off again, rushing behind Hound to hide.

Ratchet groaned loudly and let his head loll back, staring up to his roof in contemplation.

"What are you all doing here?!"

Wheeljack, now standing again, turned to him, his wings flashing pink in embarrassment and he shuffled his pedes a bit. Hound took a few steps in his direction and just now Ratchet saw the small items he was holding with one arm.

A small tub, colored in grey was set down first, filled with two sippy cups and a cube-like riddle box for sparklings. Ratchet rumbled lowly in his chest, grateful and happy.

"Hoist said that the crib would be done later this nightcycle, he wanted to make sure that it would be really sparkling proof, I don't know how he will test that. Also, Prowl told me to tell you that everything is all right with him and the mechling. He didn't say a word till now but his shaking is better now and he has released Prowls servo." Wheeljack rattled, counting on his digits to get every point across.

Ratchet pressed a servo to his faceplates. Although his friend did tell him some interesting points, he didn't answer the question.

"Wheeljack… Not that I am not grateful, but I really would have loved to recharge a bit more. So, did you all just talk to each other to meet at my room? Or why are you all here?"

"You see, I wanted to know if there was something new with the newspark and on my way here I met Wheeljack, who was cackling to himself and muttering something about having the bestest family unit ever. After a short talk we both headed here and stumbled upon Jolt, who was shivering in front of your door, not sure what to do. So now we are all here, got you a few things and are now waiting to hear something new from you." Hound said in his smooth, deep voice, calming Ratchet down slightly, but also causing his protectiveness to rise.

HE hadn't even seen his own newspark and he had wanted it to be in private, but now, that all the gathered mechs were staring at him something rattled his inner musings.

THEY had a right to see the newspark as well, they had protected it, found it, brought it to him just so he could bond to the new life. All of them had helped him, had collected items or even built them from scratch to help him and the newspark. And they were silent about it, if they had told the others about that his room would be under siege by a horde of femmes and even a few mechs!

Ratchet sighed and sat down on his berth waving the mechs closer. Jolt closed the door behind him and scratched at his neck plating before he froze. With a few faster steps he came forward, rumbling embarrassed and opened his subspace. Hound, Jazz and Ratchet stared at him as he took something out of the subspace and fondled the something he now had in his servos. After a few loving strokes he held the item out to Ratchet.

The CMO was stunned as he received the mechanimal plushie from his young apprentice. In his servos was now a dark green and silvery hyenabot, with overly large optics and the biggest paws he had ever seen. It was very soft but extraordinarily well crafted. Ratchet looked up at the dark blue mech, ignoring Hound's and Jazz's sounds of endearment.

"What… Where?" was all he got out of his mouth. Jolt turned a lovely shade of blue, blushing again and mumbled.

"I… I did this myself. I was not sure what to make, but I wanted to make something too for the sparkling. And then I remembered what made me happy when I was younger and I had a plushie of a zap-mouse. So I gathered what I needed, searched the Datapads about random mechanimals and my first entry was that of a hyenabot. So… I made this… I hope the small one will like it…" he was so quiet that Ratchet had problems catching what he just said.

Nonetheless he grabbed Jolt's servo, pressing it for a second and smiled at the young mech.

"It is very good! I didn't know you could do something like that, but I am really grateful." He grumbled lowly to himself for a second before he leaned back, setting the plushie beside him.

"And I think we are all curious about my newspark. I will get it out, but be quiet and don't startle it! Or I will have your afts!" the other mechs nodded heavily, all of them grinning now in anticipation of what would happen now.

To his surprise the smallspark had recharged through all the commotion, only stirring once at Wheeljack's unexpected entrance, but had slept through everything else. He tugged at his new bond, again and again to wake it up. After several tugs he got an answer. Drowsy feelings of love, hunger and a bit of pain. A small warble sounded out of his chest, garnering the attention of the others.

Ratchet cooed lowly and sent reassurance, hope, amusement and his own love back to his newspark, accompanied by the promise to soothe the pain.

With a mental command he triggered the opening to his sparkling hold, coercing the small one out slowly. One of his servos was cupped in front of the opening and he could feel the small one crawling to it. A small weight climbed struggling into his servo and he closed it protectively before moving it slightly in front of him. His sparkling felt content and not nervous at all, but the hunger grew stronger.

All mechs leaned forward and Ratchet opened his servo…


I am really in love with this story... Will go on^^ Don`t worry, just replacing the old chapters with better ones^^