Ratchet adjusted his optics to the darkness of the block's stairway. He got grossed by the grime staining the walls with dirty yellow color, but the most disgusting thing was the smell that was surrounding him. Everything smelled of mech fluids, which made him want to purge his fuel tanks right away, but he resisted the feeling by convincing himself that it would be something only a weakling would do.

His companion seemed to remain unaffected by all of the nasty stimulation they were receiving. When he was about to ask how the red youngling could stay so unaffected, he remembered that the other one had been living under the same conditions longer than him – Probably much longer than himself.

While climbing up the stairs Ratchet looked at the doors that had been pummeled into shapeless wrecks of metal and wondered why they were like that. Why the whole area where the slums were had been turned out into this, because judging by the buildings situated there the area hadn't been a slum originally.

He stopped in front of one of the doors that was in relatively good condition. There was just some grime on it and few dents here and there. He keyed the access code to the little panel on the wall next to the door, but the panel remained silent. Nervousness started creeping into his cpu. He keyed the access code again, but nothing happened. He was now visibly annoyed and nervous.

"This can't be happening. You dimwitted little glitch filled piece of slag," he cursed to the panel knowing full well that it would not help him at all. He noticed Ironhide being amused by the situation.

When he was ready to smash the panel to tiny pieced, Ironhide stepped forward to the panel.

"Let me handle this," Ironhide said calmly. The red youngling detached the panel from the wall not so delicately.

"There's a button behind the panel that reboots it." Ironhide pressed the button and put the panel back to its place.

"The access code."

Ratchet keyed the code and the machine let out a small beep indicating that the lock was now open. How did the red youngling know something like this, though he appreciated that he knew how to fix it or he wouldn't have been able to get inside his home.

"How do you know that there's a reboot button there?" Ratchet asked while opening the door.

"You learn things after you've spent time involuntarily outside your own home."

Ratchet gave a concerned look at Ironhide, but was returned with an expression that was unreadable. They entered the apartment that was home to Ratchet and his creators. He turned the lights on, while he could hear the voices of broadcast. His creators were probably watching some cybersoap again, since there were very few things they could do.

The apartment wasn't better than the rest of the building. The walls were tainted by energon and it smelled bad here too. Everything was so dark looking even though he had lit all the lights, but the worst part was the condition the place was – Everything was more or less filled with cracks, holes and dents. The wall looked as if they would crumble any moment.

"Mother – Father I'm home and I brought a friend along," Ratchet announced loudly, so his creators wouldn't be surprised. He could hear moving from their living room, which made him immediately worried, because especially his mother tended to be so clumsy while moving that she hurt herself constantly. He rushed to the living room to aid his creators.

"Mother, please sit down. I don't want you to hurt yourself," Ratchet said while aiding his mother back to the couch.

"I just wanted to see the friend, you brought along."

"He's right here, mother. This is Ironhide," the white youngling looked over his shoulder still aiding his creator. He had expected the red youngling to be awkward, when facing a situation like this, but the other youngling smiling politely.

"Nice to meet you ma'am," Ironhide had polite tone while speaking.

"Where's father?" Ratchet asked after he had noticed that the other one of his creators wasn't in the room, but his question was answered briefly when his father entered the room carrying an energon cube. It seemed that his father was having one of those now very rare moments when he could function normally.

"You already made a friend." Ratchet's father, who resembled much of his son, was smiling warmly.

"Yeah, he's Ironhide."

"Hello," Ironhide greeted.

"Now, you father, sit down before you hurt yourself. Ironhide wait a minute I'll get some stuff," Ratchet commanded. Ratchet left the room leaving Ironhide alone with his creators.

"Where he has learned to command like that?" Ratchet's father laughed gently: "But to be honest. Ironhide, was it?" Ironhide nodded in response.

"I'm glad that Ratchet has made a friend. He didn't have so much of them before."

Ironhide heard footsteps from behind him and saw an annoyed Ratchet. The white youngling must have heard them speaking, well he just listened. But from the load Ratchet was carrying in his hands he assumed that the other one had found everything he needed.

"I can still hear you, father! My audio receptors are working just fine." Ratchet was annoyed. Though Ironhide himself would have been annoyed too, if his creators would tell everything about him to first person he ever took to his home. Well, not like it would happen anyway with his creators only Primus knows where.

"You are worse than your mother," Ratchet's father joked.

"I'm not like that. The boy is obviously taking after you," the femme argued. The couple descended into arguing about Ratchet's upbringing, while blaming each other in turns.

"Come on. Let's get that crack fixed," Ratchet sighed, while starting to lead Ironhide out of the room.

They entered a room that was small, dirty and without a window. There was a berth and desk inside and nothing else would have fitted. Resembled much of the room Ironhide had, except that Ratchet could actually shut the door leading to the room.

"Sit down. I need to get some more light here." Ratchet put down the equipment he had been carrying earlier. He lit up an extra light and sat down next to Ironhide. The white youngling started operating on very basic patch on Ironhide, but he did it with extraordinary routine that didn't go unnoticed to Ironhide.

"How come you know about repairing?"

"The school I used to attend before I came here, had a very vast library where all the students had access. I researched medical knowledge for two reasons. One: I want to become a medic. Two: If I can do basic repairing for my parents it will be huge save in our expenses."

Ratchet seemed rather practical, despite of wanting to become a medic. Why the white youngling had changed schools when they had moved, didn't make any sense to Ironhide. Many of the younglings lived right in the central Iacon and only two of them lived in the slums, but Ironhide didn't ask why, because if the other one didn't tell him voluntarily he wouldn't probably tell him if he asked.

"There. That should do it," Ratchet smiled after he had finished the repairs. The white youngling was obviously being proud of his work and sure why not be proud of something you do. Ironhide wished there was something he could do for the other youngling and be proud of it too.

He touched the patch on his forehead. He could feel it wasn't perfect, but he was just so happy that somebody cared for him. He let out a smile which reached his facial plating.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I like helping friends."

Did he just refer to him as a friend? It almost made him bask in the joy, because it had been ages, since anybody referred to him as a friend and for sure nobody in Iacon called him their friend. He just had to confirm that he wasn't hearing things.

"A friend?" he asked carefully.

"What?! Of course you are my friend. Isn't that obvious?" Ratchet answered almost annoyed.

"Sure"

Ironhide had left after they had been speaking about this and that. Ratchet was feeling that they actually got along pretty well, which was very relieving for him after he had spent so much time without anybody to speak to. Well there were always his creators, but they weren't much of a conversation and they definitely were not someone of his own age.

Though he was burning to know more about his friend, but he just had the feeling the other one didn't trust him enough to tell. He was especially worried where he had gotten the crack on his helm, but he didn't push it, since he himself didn't want to be pushed either. He just figured that they both had their reasons to remain silent about some things.

He was taking the stuff he had used for making Ironhide's patch back to the place he had taken them in their kitchen. He put them into a small box, placing everything carefully to a strict order. Then he took a last glance at the equipment before he closed the cover.

He took an energon cube from a cupboard after he had noticed that he was running low on energon. The white youngling headed for his room for studying, but he was stopped on his way there by his mother who was still sitting on the couch.

"When did you come home?" The expression on her facial plating was nearly shocked. What was this?

"I have been home for cycles now. I helped my friend Ironhide by repairing a crack on his helm."

"Oh."

This was something new and Ratchet didn't like it. There was something nasty going on with his creators that he knew already, but to it turn even worse now made him feel very anxious. Though there was a possibility that it was just a funky memory glitch unrelated to the condition they were suffering, well he hoped it was the later one of the possibilities.

Hopefully he would just make it in time.