Crack in the Pavement
Chapter 29
Lookie! Lookie! Another update! When the muse gets going it sure gets going.
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
Ironhide walked the halls of the Ark alone. Training with Cliffjumper had ended early. It was an all important appointment today, if Ironhide guessed right. He was certain that his sparklet had entered the third stage of development, right on schedule as far as Ratchet's predictions went. Which only made sense, the little bit got lots of energy from his creators. They would also learn what frame the sparklet would be suited to. There were several possibilities given the difference between the frames of Ironhide and Optimus. Yes, Ironhide was not even considering the gunformer. Optimus would join Ironhide as soon has his meeting with Prowl was over. After his appointment with Ratchet they would be meeting up with Wheeljack to discuss the construction of what would become the sparkling protoform.
"Howdy Ratch," Ironhide greeted as he stepped through the medbay doors. The sight of Ratchet stopped him in his steps. The medic was sitting on a stool next to one of the many treatment berths, with his arms on the berth and his helm resting on his arms. He looked like he was recharging. Now that was just strange. "You okay Ratch? Ratchet?"
"Huh?" Ratchet grumbled as his optics came online. He swore when he realized he had be offline. "Fragging Pit."
"Ya looks like the Pit warmed over Ratch," Ironhide stated, giving Ratchet a once over. "Have the Twins been keeping ya from recharge?"
"Which one of us is the medic?" Ratchet demanded. He ran a hand over his optics. "But yeah. I'm recharging plenty. More than usual."
"Better run a self scan, 'cause yer down with something,'" Ironhide said, walking over and offering a hand to help Ratchet up.
"Again, who's the medic?" Ratchet grumbled but took Ironhide's hand. "Time for your appointment is it?"
"Why don'tcha worry about yerself for one slagging minute," Ironhide replied. "Sit down, Ratch. And do a scan."
"Ironhide..." Ratchet seethed. No one ordered him around in his medbay.
"Hey FirstAid," Ironhide called over the comm. "Get over to the medbay. Doc Bot needs an exam."
"You fragger," Ratchet hissed. He scrunched up his shoulders. Any other mech, any other mech, and that including Optimus Prime, would have had a wrench to the faceplates by now. Fragging Ironhide, and his fragging sparked spark.
"It's him or Smokescreen," Ironhide said, not remotely intimidated by Ratchet's display of temper. Smokescreen was after all a psychiatrist. He had done of full medical rotation at the same hospital Ratchet had once been CMO.
"No slagging way are you comming Smokescreen," Ratchet replied. "He's a fragging gossip."
"Are you alright, Sir?" FirstAid asked as he entered Ratchet's domain. "Ironhide..."
"Your teach has something runnin' amok in his system," Ironhide said before Ratchet could dismiss his student. "Time to practice what he taught ya."
Normally FirstAid would have asked Ratchet before he did anything. Normally he would have asked any patient for consent before he did anything but Ratchet knew exactly what he was going to do, and from the looks of Ratchet, hazy optics, a dullness to his faceplates, Ironhide was on to something. He took a diagnostic cable from his own side; Ratchet raised his arm, and FirstAid plugged the cable into the port at the top left side of Ratchet's chassis.
"Okay, so let's see," FirstAid said, to no one in particular. He had only just begun to scan Ratchet's system when he spotted an abnormality. He unplugged his diagnostic cable and pointed to the berth Ratchet was leaning against. "On the berth."
Ratchet's optics widened and brightened, stiffly he obeyed his student and climbed on to the berth. The last time he had been on one of these berths had been after his run in with Hook. His fuel tank churned with anxiety. Ironhide stood at the foot of the berth as silent moral support, as FirstAid took a datapad from a slot at the head of the berth and began typing in a series of commands. Somewhere off in the desert, a ways from the Ark, the Twins were just picking up on Ratchet's distress. Unable to handle their questions and concern, Ratchet muted their bond.
"Ah, there we are!" FirstAid exclaimed. "No bugs, or glitches in your systems Sir. But I do believe I've found the source of your depleted energy stores. You're sparked."
"What?" Ratchet gasped. Ironhide raised his brow ridges and took a step away from the berth.
"Twins even!" FirstAid continued, no looking up from the datapad. He didn't see Ratchet tense up, his optic twitching. Ratchet snatched the datapad from FirstAid's hands and stared at the read out on the screen.
"Slagging Pit," Ratchet swore as he read over all the data. Two tiny sparklets orbited independently around his own spark. The rhythms of their orbits were just slightly different. They were not split sparks. It all made perfect sense now. Twins were a greater strain on a carrier no matter the case, but split sparks orbited on the same wavelength and as a result cause just slightly less strain. Leave it to the Twins to spark him separately, and simutaneously. Ironhide took FirstAid by the arm and guided him out of the medbay. Just as the door slid shut, Ratchet screamed incoherently and the sound of metal hitting metal began to echo behind the sealed doors, and Ironhide heard the locking mechanism deploy. FirstAid looked to Ironhide and asked:
"Is it a good idea to leave him alone?"
"Yeah," Ironhide replied. "He needs to blow of some steam and he won't be happy if he hurts one of us."
Optimus strolled up to the medbay after Ratchet had been on his rampage for several minutes. He put a hand on Ironhide's shoulder and looked to him and FirstAid for an explanation.
"He's sparked," Ironhide explained. "He's taking it a little worse than I'd 'ave thought."
"The sparklets are small for their gestational age," FirstAid explained, putting into words what he suspected was the source of Ratchet's breakdown. "He's pretty far along, a few weeks behind you, Ironhide. The sparklets are small. They need to be getting more energy from Ratchet than they have been."
"Is he, are they, in any danger?" Optimus asked. Sparklets could fail and separate too early to be viable. It always meant the loss of the sparklet. On some occasions it meant the loss of the carrier.
"I don't think so," FirstAid replied. "Yes they seem small but they were both orbiting well. If Ratchet rests up and ups his fuel rations the sparklets will gain mass quickly. It isn't going to be an easy time for him, however. He's going to feel added strain as they make up for lost growth. Twins are hard on carriers, biovular twins, what Ratchet is carrying, are even harder on carriers than split sparks. Delayed discovery of the sparklets was not ideal."
"He's wasting a lot of energy on this tantrum," Ironhide noted. Not that he was volunteering to go in and restrain Ratchet.
"Optimus," Red Alert called over the comm. "The Twins are coming in hot, and they aren't answering my page..."
"Give them space," Optimus ordered. "Just a little problem with Ratchet."
"Understood," Red Alert replied and disengaged the comm.
Ironhide turned from Optimus and FirstAid and commed the Twins: "Ratchet's fine. He's freakin' out so get your afts to the medbay before he wrecks the place."
By the time the Twins came barrelling down the hall, all was quiet on the other side of the medbay doors. Ironhide shooed FirstAid and Optimus away and stood in front of the door. The Twins looked feral, there vents flaring open and shut as they vented hard, and their optics were wild. Neither made a move to engage Ironhide; they weren't completely insane. The older mech watched the brothers carefully for just a moment.
"He's locked himself in, you need to talk him out," Ironhide said, at long last.
"He's blocked our bond," Sideswipe replied anxiety, confusion and hurt all evident in his voice.
"And he's gonna feel like slag for it in a few minutes," Ironhide said. "I'll leave you to it. Don't let'im clean up the mess. FirstAid'n Swoop take care of it."
Sunstreaker nodded, and then so did Sideswipe. Ironhide walked away. His appointment would have to be rescheduled. But that was no big deal. The brothers stared at the locked door, and then leaned up against it. Ratchet had better open it up to them, or they were going to have to make a hole in the wall.
"Ratch?" Sunstreaker yelled with helm leaning against the door. "Open up."
"Come on," Sideswipe pleaded. "You don't want us to take down the wall."
The Twins stepped back as they heard the lock disengage and the door slid open with a soft whoosh. They stepped inside. Nothing vital to the treatment of damaged mechs had been touched but every wall was covered with dents and gouges. Every small tool was strewn over the floor. And Ratchet stood dead centre in the sea of destruction. The brothers vented simultaneously and stared at Ratchet from a safe distance. Their sparks hummed softly, poor Rathchet. He looked so tired and more than a little scared. They closed the distance between them and their mate and wrapped their arms around him. Sunny rested his forehelm on the back of Ratchet's helm, and Sides looked intently into Ratchet's optics.
"You blocked us," Sideswipe said. The hurt in his voice made Ratchet's spark clench painfully. Immediately, he reopened his side of the bond. He shook with the force of Sideswipe's and Sunstreaker's worry, hurt, and love, always love, pouring through the bond. The storm of emotion subsided and finally Ratchet spoke.
"I'm sorry," he said. He felt tears threaten to spill from his optics. "I couldn't deal with you, with the bond. I shouldn't have blocked you. I'm sorry."
"What's got you so wound up?" Sunstreaker asked. He was still hurting, knew Sidewipe was too, but the fear emanating from Ratchet was enough for them to both push their hurt aside.
"I'm sparked," Ratchet confessed. The words felt foreign on his glossa. "Some medic I am. I didn't slagging know I was sparked!"
"Primus," the Twins muttered in near unison. That was not what they had expected to hear. They were struck mute for several minutes.
"Are you okay?" Sideswipe asked. He didn't ask about the sparklet. He couldn't put it into words.
"Yeah," Ratchet replied.
"This is why you've been tired," Sunstreaker said. He nuzzled Ratchet's helm. "You need more energon."
"A lot more," Ratchet replied. He found himself unable to do anything but bask in the blanket of affection projected by his bondmates. "Biovular twins. Two completely separate sparks."
"Wow," Sideswipe hummed. Two sparklets. He and Sunny were going to be sires... "Is everything okay with them?"
"Not entirely," Ratchet said. He felt panic flash over the bond. "It's nothing that can't be fixed with me consuming more fuel. I've been carrying them a while. Since I didn't know, I haven't been refueling enough so the sparklets haven't been getting enough energy and they're undersized."
"Ratch," Sunstreaker sighed. "Don't get all guilty on us. You never look after your own health. And with Ironhide... And with us, it's not surprise you didn't do the math. Besides, you have an inhibitor."
"Which I forgot to upgrade," Ratchet replied. "It needed one, but I forgot about it."
"Like Sunny said, you never think of your health," Sideswipe reiterated. "But that's changing, for now anyway."
"And if you slack off, we'll cuff you to the berth," Sunstreaker promised. "We take care of our mate, and our sparklets."
"So you aren't angry," Ratchet said, a little befuddled. "At all? You two can't use inhibitors with your split spark so we've relied on me not to screw up..."
"Our sparklets are not a screw up," Sideswipe scolded Ratchet, and kissed him gently. "Maybe we weren't planning on a family while stuck on earth, but we always wanted on with you sooner or later."
"Sooner works for me," Sunstreaker added. "You probably need some energon, and a nap. Let's go to our berthroom."
"Aren't you do still due to patrol for another few hours?" Ratchet asked. He really wasn't trying to evade refueling. No, there was no skipping that now.
"We're playing hooky," Sunstreaker said. "If Prime doesn't like it he can kiss my aft."
Prime did not mind the Twins playing hooky. It only endeared them to him further that they were so conscientious of Ratchet. The moment they had returned to the Ark, before they had even made it to the medbay, Prowl had sent out a new patrol. According to Prowl, Smokescreen had been completely agreeable. Bluestreak had gone with him. It was not often that creator and sparkling teamed up on missions, let alone patrols so this was actually a rare treat.
Optimus chose to play hooky himself. There were no meetings scheduled for the rest of the day, and while he could always have gone about the Ark, checking in with the various mechs, Optimus chose instead to sit in the common room, with Ironhide. Many of the Autobots not on duty were sprawled here or there throughout the room. As usual, some soap opera was playing on the great screen.
"I'm a little sorry your appointment was delayed," Optimus said as he finished his cube. "But I cannot help but be pleased that our sparkling with have more playmates."
"I think Ratchet'll be more on board after he gets over his shock," Ironhide replied, and then chuckled. "I don't know if I'm hoping for him to have lil' Sunny, and Sides, or lil' Ratchets."
"Both prospects warn of some nightmares to come," Optimus laughed. "No matter what those three will have their hands full."
"Depending on Primus, we might have ours full too," Ironhide added. "I was no tame sparkling. My carrier had infinite calm, and infinite patience. My sire was loud and brash. I took after him."
"We'll enjoy him, no matter what," Optimus said. He hoped for a balance of himself and Ironhide. Patience, and passion. "Even if he keeps us on our peds all night and day."
Ratchet wasted no time in rescheduling Ironhide's exam. The very next day, Optimus and Ironhide met at the medbay shortly after midday. They found the medic sitting on the same stool where Ironhide had found him recharging the day before. Today, however Ratchet was sitting up straight, completely alert with a datapad in hand. He beckoned the two over and gestured to the berth.
"Afternoon," Ratchet said. "Is everything feeling normal Ironhide?"
"Yep," Ironhide replied as he sat on the berth. "What about you, Ratch? Yer lookin' better."
"Modified duties," Ratchet replied, with just a hint of irritation. "Minimal strenuous activity, as much rest as possible. Annoying as all frag already."
"Congratulations, Ratchet," Optimus said, smiling as Ratchet scrunched up his frame under his scutiny. "The Twins seem pleased."
"They are," Ratchet replied. He relaxed his shoulders. "We are. Just getting used to the idea."
The friendly banter continued as Ratchet initiated the berth's diagnostic programs. On the datapad, an image of Ironhide's spark appeared. Ratchet zoomed in on the image of the much smaller sparklet, watching it's orbit. As Ratchet studied the sparklet, he describe him to his creators. The size, the speed and shape of his orbit. Finally, he made his pronouncement.
"You've entered the third phase of development," Ratchet said. "I estimate the sparklet with initiate separation in two months time. And he looks like he's going to be suited to a medium-heavy mode."
"You'll work with Wheeljack to prepare a protoform?" Optimus asked.
"I'm not trusting something as delicate as a protoform to Wheeljack alone," Ratchet scoffed. "We'll set up a meeting time in a few days to discuss the little details, like armour paint, etc."
"Excellent," Ironhide said, a smile stretching his faceplates. "Why don'tcha join us for a cube, Ratch. I'm thinking you could always use one."
"Fragger," Ratchet grumbled. "Yeah, sure."
Optimus smiled at Ironhide as the three mechs left the medbay. Ironhide was indeed more perceptive than most anyone gave him credit; Optimus saw the same thing Ironhide did in Ratchet. He was attempting to be stoic but he was still edgy. Ratchet would most likely remain as such, if left be, until he saw evidence that his own sparklets were gaining mass. There was also the matter of the day they broke orbit with his spark. Ratchet was the only 'Bot on the Ark with recent experience with the procedure.
"How's FirstAid feeling about his new duties in the medbay?" Optimus asked as they sat down at a corner table.
"Nervous as all slag," Ratchet replied. "He's already got the most of the basic skills. He'll be taking over many of the standard repairs, under my supervision. I've also spoken to Smokescreen, and he'll be taking over the medic duties three days a week. I'm hoping his surgery skills haven't rusted over."
"Oh ye of little faith," Ironhide teased.
"Frag off," Ratchet hissed. "Or you'll be the first mech he works on."
"Let's be honest with ourselves," Optimus said. "The first mech he works on will either be one of your bondmates... Or Cliffjumper."
"Isn't that the truth," Ratchet sighed. "Careless fraggers, all three of them."
End Chapter 29.
AN: Merry Christmas to my dearly loved readers. I probably will not get another update in before Christmas... Work... So much work.
So I ended up cutting out an entire chapter for the purposes of flow. I may work it into another fic, but this works out much better for the purposes of Crack in the Pavement. Soundwave should be breathing a sigh of relief. XD
Got any music you think suits the fic, send it to me. Really, I listen to music, the same playlist, whenever I right this fic. Kqurota Hestaine sent me Alanis Morrissette's Guardian. Not only does it suit Ironhide and Optimus perfectly but it got the muse cooking, and these chapters written so... Yah. Help a girl out.