Crack in the Pavement
Chapter 8
I do so love getting so many reviews. You all deserve a treat, and here it is. A two chapter update for today.
23 Chapters written thus far and I'll be returning to the real world so I won't be updating quite as frequently once I'm home if I find I'm failing at getting any writing done.
I promise I am working on my focus so I don't get so miserably distracted. Enjoy this send off Yoru Hana1 and enjoy your trip!
Will write fanfic for fanart. Please feed the under-talented.
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.
Summary: Megatron uses Ironhide to get his revenge on Prime. Multiple minor side pairings, see list in fic.
Warning: Graphic rape. Torture. M/M robot slash consensual as well as NON-CON
Pairings: Non-con Megatron/ Ironhide, Con Optimus/ Ironhide. Established Jazz/ Prowl, Twins/ Ratchet, Mirage/ Cliffjumper
"You can go," Ratchet said. "You're off the duty roster for the next few days. That door wing is hyper sensitive. Anything more than the lightest touch will hurt for at least the next day or so."
"I understand," Prowl said. And he did. Prowl was perhaps the only Autobot on the Ark who took care not to exacerbate an injury. Well, maybe not the only one.
"Good," Ratchet said, Prowl was one of the better mechs to have as a patient. Except when you considered that Jazz would be in the medbay with him whenever possible and that was annoying. "Let me see you get up."
Prowl slipped carefully off the berth and was sturdy on his feet. He looked over to where Ironhide lay, completely still.
"I've weaned him off the meds that were keeping him in stasis," Ratchet said. "It's his body's choice now when he comes out of it."
"That's good to hear," Prowl said, choosing his words carefully.
"Get some rest, Prowl," Ratchet said. "Recharge in your own berth."
Ratchet paused and placed a hand on Prowl's shoulder.
"I keep forgetting that you're almost as bad as Red Alert," Ratchet said. "I don't want to ever find out that you let yourself be bullied into stretching yourself thin. That means no bullying yourself."
Prowl had the decency to look chastised, and Ratchet's expression softened.
"Now get," Ratchet said, and shooed Prowl from the medbay. "Don't let that mate of yours convince you into ANYTHING. Rest!"
Alone, or as good as, Ratchet put away the equipment he had disconnected from Prowl and organized his tools. Once his medbay was in order again, Ratchet wandered over to Ironhide's berth. The readouts had changed, and Ratchet smiled, just a little.
"Finally recharging," Ratchet whispered. He doubted anything more than Armageddon would wake Ironhide but he wasn't going to yell, just in case. Exhaustion overtook him. Ratchet vented and grumbled. The short hours he'd allowed himself to recharge were catching up on him and Ratchet listen to his systems and went to his office to recharge.
Didn't hurt. Ironhide floated inside himself. The first little bit of awareness came to him slowly. He didn't hurt. Gradually, he began to really hear. Voices, familiar, safe voices. Prowl. Ratchet.
Home. He drifted away inside himself again.
The Autobots returned home dirty, dented, and only a little placated. Blaster had been right, the Decepticon's secret base had been built deep within the side of Mt Black Horn. They had not been able to destroy the base. Too much of the building was deep within the mountain and it could not be destroyed by a simple frontal assault. But they had dealt the base, and the Decepticons in it, a critical blow. They had destroyed most of the guns the Decepticons had built into the mountain and they had collapsed the two entrances they could find. They did all this with only one significant injury.
"I'm concerned," Optimus said to both Ratchet and his patient. Mirage had been shot in the leg. It could have been far worse, for during the battle the greater number of Decepticons had set their sights on Mirage. He had come under heavy fire and had dodged several potentially fatal shots before being wounded. Cliffjumper had come to the rescue and fended off his attackers until the Autobots had closed ranks.
"They've never focused on one 'Bot before," Optimus continued. "I have no doubt that their goal was to deactivate Mirage."
"They've done the math," Ratchet said, looking up from Mirage's leg. "Mirage is the only Autobot that can get past any of their defences unseen. I have to admit, I was expecting them to come to this conclusion a lot sooner."
"As it stands, I can't let you back onto the battlefield, Mirage," Optimus said. "We are going to have to sit back and watch them and develop a plan to demolish that base. We can't simply blow it up. It is far too close to human populations."
"All done," Ratchet said. "You need to keep weight off of it until the repairs set but you're free to go for now. I want to see you back here in the morning. I'll decide then when you can go back on the duty roster."
"When Ratchet clears you for duty I want you to go to Prowl for a new patrol route," Optimus said. "You need to stay close to home."
"Understood," Mirage replied. He sat up and slowly swung his legs off the berth. Cliffjumper appeared, as if out of nowhere; he'd actually been standing just a few feet away, waiting. With a polite nod to both Ratchet and Optimus, he reached out and helped Mirage balance on his good leg, then wrap his arm around Mirage's waist. Mirage rested a hand on Cliffjumper's shoulder; he limped out the door with Cliffjumper acting as a crutch.
Optimus leaned back on the deserted berth and vented softly. He was banged up. Small dents and scratches in his paint covered his armour. Ratchet knew better than to try and buff out the damage; Optimus was not ready to be repaired.
"I have some good news for you," Ratchet said. "Ironhide's out of stasis. He's recharging now."
"Glad tidings indeed," Optimus smiled. "I'd like to stay with him for awhile, if I may."
"Alright," Ratchet said. "But don't stay all day and night. You need to rest yourself. I'll be in my office."
"Thank you," Optimus said. He walked slowly, and as close to silently as a mech his size could. Ironhide was laying as still as when last Optimus had seen him. At first glance, Ironhide look as if he was still in stasis. But at second glance Ironhide looked more alive. There was a healthy sheen to his faceplates that hadn't been there before now. Optimus stood there silently, watching the slow, and soft movement of Ironhide's intakes.
Hesitantly, Optimus reached out and touched the tips of his digits to Ironhide's neck. He felt warmer now. His systems were in balance, coolant and energon moved through his circuits, just below the the mesh of cables and wires of his neck. Optimus kept his digits against Ironhide's neck for several minutes. Gradually, his fingers slid down Ironhide's neck and onto his chassis. Ironhide's spark pulsed strongly under his touch; Optimus rested the palm of his servo over Ironhide's spark chamber.
"Rest well, my friend," Optimus said softly. "He cannot reach you here. He will never harm you again."
That voice... He loved that voice. Floating within himself Ironhide felt warm, safe.
Optimus didn't notice when the Twins entered the medbay and crossed the room to Ratchet's office. The door was locked. Sunstreaker looked at Sideswipe from the corner of his optics. Sideswipe frowned and looked down at the cubes of energon in their hands. Was Ratchet tired or just avoiding them? It was a loaded question. If he was avoiding them, then they had to ask if they had done something to anger him. If he was just tired, why had he not gone to either his or their berth rooms? The inquietude of each brother passed through their relay and blended together.
Sideswipe revved his engine apprehensively, and turned away from the door and walked to the berth across from Ironhide's. He placed one of the energon cubes on the berth. Sunstreaker walked over to him; the Twins glanced over at Optimus and Ironhide, then, crestfallen they left the medbay. Optimus barely twitched.
Less than an hour later, Ratchet left his office. He saw the cube of energon, walked over to it and picked it up, a low rumble voiced his discomfort. Optimus watched him from Ironhide's side. It took more than a minute for Ratchet to notice he was being watched; he was focused too intently on the cube in his hands.
"You're avoiding them," Optimus said. "I'm surprised. I thought you'd found your match in the Twins."
"They want to bond with me," Ratchet informed him.
"And you don't?" Optimus asked.
"I don't know," Ratchet replied without looking up from the cube.
"Don't you think it would be a good idea to talk to them?" Optimus asked.
"No," Ratchet said quickly, looking up at Optimus, a challenge in his eyes.
"Why not?" Optimus asked. "You need to tell them how you feel."
"I don't know how I feel," Ratchet said. "I care about them. I like being with them. Optimus, they're... They're sweet with me. Try to take care of me. I like it. I like them."
"You don't love them?" Optimus asked, now he left Ironhide's side and nudged Ratchet to sit on the berth he'd been hovering by.
"Slag, I probably do," Ratchet grumbled.
"But bonding with them scares you?" Optimus asked.
"I can't afford to fall apart when they get damaged" Ratchet said.
"You're thinking about Jazz," Optimus said. "Had there been a battle I am certain he would have fought, if nothing else, just to return to Prowl."
"What if I'm not strong enough?" Ratchet asked. "Let's face it, I'm surly, and short tempered. I don't have a strong processor. Feeling them hurting would probably disable me."
"You don't give yourself enough credit," Optimus said. "You've survived torture and war. That tells me you're stronger than you think."
Ratchet made a non-committal sound.
"Even unbonded, the thought of them being hurt scares you," Optimus said. "These are the Twins. They will be hurt sooner rather than later. You love them; it will hurt to see them in pain. And you'll do everything you can to repair them, bonded or not."
"Slag," Ratchet swore. "I still don't know."
"It shouldn't be an easy choice," Optimus said, padded Ratchet's back.
Bonding. The voices were talking about bonding. His spark clenched. Bonding. Something that he wanted. Something he couldn't have. Because he couldn't have him.
Images flashed through his processor. Winged Pit-Spawn cackled around him. They towered over him. Cruel, sharp clawed fingers grabbed him and pulled him through the darkness. Red eyes bore into him and cut a swath through his spark. Ironhide fought the Pit-Spawn. Kicked. Punched. Thrashed.
Megatron tore into him and swept over his spark, burning it with dark malaise. He thrashed harder, cried and screamed wordlessly.
"Ironhide," Optimus cried and jerked at the sound of Ironhide's cry and ran back to his side. He didn't try to pin his arms or stop his thrashing. Instead, he knelt by Ironhide's head, and stroked his helm, speaking softly, almost crooning reassurances.
That voice. It washed over him and swept the Pit-Spawn away. Ironhide stilled. Gentle hands caressed his helm. He vented softly, tension bleeding away and he slept in peace.
"Memory fluxes," Ratchet said with resignation in his voice. "He's going to have a lot of them."
Ratchet didn't mean to but he gave himself away with his tone. Optimus had never spoken to Ratchet about his own state after the affair with Hook. But he remembered that Ratchet had been on edge, barely recharging, that is until the Twins had taken responsibility over him. Ratchet had regained his equilibrium quickly after that. He knew about the impact of memory fluxes.
"I'm going to stay with him for a while longer," Optimus said, never taking his eyes off of Ironhide. "Drink your cube. Think about what we discussed."
Optimus kept talking, even when Ratchet left. He talked, quietly, barely more than a whisper. He talked to Ironhide, about nothing really. He spoke about Cybertron, Earth, and anything else that came to mind.
"Wake up soon, please," Optimus begged in the midst of it all. "Please."
That voice. At first, all he heard was a hum, words blending into each other. Slowly, individual words began to separate from soothing drone.
Please. Wake up.
End Chapter 8