Chapter 31 - part 1 of 3

I know, I lied. I've had the past three glorious days to myself and I've written another chapter. Three beautiful days with no homework and no tests…and extra time to write.

:D

Carrying is the intellectual property of Litahatchee.

I know I promised a monster of a chapter (and I feel that this is a mini-monster) but I've taken the original story and chopped it into pieces. This is the first of three parts. :D Enjoy!

Starlight was deep in recharge, the soft purring of her tiny engine barely audible over Ratchet's incessant mumbling. The poor mech was up to his audios in unfinished work today. Prime had deemed it necessary and proper to hand over the specifications for Wheel Jack's labs three hours before they were due to start rebuilding the scorched and mangled remains of the science wing of the base. Wheeljack's mistake with the energon still had not been fixed. Ratchet contemplated just leaving the room as was, since Wheeljack would blow it up again anyway. Moving on in his massive stack of datapads, he growled quietly upon reading two very familiar names.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had once again, managed to anger Ironhide, resulting in a mass casualty of ceiling tiles, interface appliances, and champion sized dents in a certain golden aft, all of which, were to be repaired by Ratchet himself. Red Alert and Moon Racer were absolutely no help at all, the both of them having taken the day off.

Wheeljack was currently and once again out of commission. He had some how managed to incinerate himself and everything within a ten yard radius up using one battery, two electrical wires, a potato, and exactly three quarters of an ounce of liquid nitroglycerin. Ratchet tried not to think about how 'Jack managed to make such a fire out of a rather boring and innocuous vegetable and primitive explosives. Wheeljack managed to at least mutter through his delirium why it had happened and why he was even tinkering around with human explosives: he had found a potential fuel source using the starches in the potato and the explosive qualities of the nitroglycerin. Now the responsibilities of fixing stupid mechs and their even stupider mistakes lay upon the capable shoulders of Ratchet.

The tiny silver bundle in the bottom of the playpen recharged away, blissfully unaware of her temporary caretaker's current dilemma. Starlight was currently dreaming of Nightshade and Chromia, the wonderful pictures of four legged equines and flowers that Ratchet had shown her today during her learning session, and the bag of energon goodies hidden underneath a certain box in the nursery. Starlight clicked softly in her recharge cycle and Ratchet froze. He prayed to Primus that the little femme would not wake up – if the femme requested to listen to "I'm A Little Teapot" one more time, he wasn't going to be held accountable for the damage he would cause to the next mech that walked into the medical bay! A few tense seconds went by. She clicked again, curling up even more tightly. Ratchet let out an audible sigh of relief when the little femme moved no more. Primus must have been smiling down at him today.

Turning back to his desk, he attacked the pile of data pads with a ferocity that none had ever seen before, scanning and leaving comments on each datapad within seconds of picking it up. He quietly typed a message up for Prime to come and retrieve Wheel Jack's floor plan, a victorious smirk on his face. This was the first time in ages that he had been able to finish his work in just one day. Ratchet slouched back in his chair, deciding that a quick recharge would be quite nice. A vicious smirk crossed his face as he signed the incident with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe off as a task that only a Prime could deal with – meaning much more paperwork for Prime. Ratchet put the stylus down and stretched slightly, wincing as a few gears in his back and shoulder girdle popped loudly. The sleeping youngling took no notice.

He peeked over at Starlight, a sleepy revv escaping from his engine. The little femme was sound asleep. Good. She'd stay that way for another half-joor or so, plenty of time for him to get in a few breems of recharge. The mech propped his feet up on the desk, leaning back against the wall. His optics shuttered themselves of their own accord, and Ratchet went into recharge. Starlight, however, was just waking up. She sat up, clutching a pillow to her chest. Her optics sought out the familiar red and white mass that she knew as Ratchet, but she came up short on that account.

She looked around the play pen – a thick blanket in one corner, a few stuffed animals in another corner, and an almost full energon bottle strewn on the floor. Starlight stood up, reaching for the release latch on the playpen. Ironhide had inadvertantly taught her how to escape from the pen, but he didn't know that he had done so. Starlight pushed the lever and the side of the pen swung outward gently. Starlight grabbed her blanket before crawling over to the edge of the pen. It took her a few breems to muster up the courage to swing her tiny legs over the edge and tumble to the floor.

Her lower lip components trembled slightly before she picked herself up off of the ground, deciding that finding Ratchet was a much better alternative to crying. Starlight wandered around to the other side of the desk, squeaking happily upon seeing Ratchet. The little femme gazed up at the recharging mech, wondering why he wasn't paying attention to her.

"Ratch," she squeaked out. The mech shuffled slightly but did not move. Starlight huffed quietly.

"Ratch," she said a bit louder. Ratchet grumbled quietly, muttering something. Starlight pouted and wondered how to wake him up. Finally, she settled on the best course of action…

"RATCHET," Starlight screamed as loudly as her vocal processors would allow. Ratchet scrabbled wildly to stand up but the chair slipped out from underneath him, resulting in both mech and chair sprawled out over the floor. As he fell, he yelled out a few unsavory words. The impact jarred him into silence. He shuttered his optics and counted for a bit before turning to the silver femme sitting on the ground. Starlight chirped happily and prodded Ratchet in the foreplate.

"Do it 'gain, Ratch!"

"No, Starlight. I will not fall out of my chair again. Now, what is it that you needed?"

Ratchet picked himself and his chair up off of the floor, righting the seat before the desk. Ratchet sat down, gazing down at Starlight, awaiting an answer. Starlight's amber optics gazed up at him for a few seconds before blinking.

"Nothing. Not sleepy anymore," she said sweetly, holding her hands up to Ratchet. He gazed back at her, wondering what she wanted. The blanket lay on the floor, forgotten.

"Up," she said simply, gesturing slightly with her hands.

"You want me to pick you up," he confirmed, one optic ridge rising slightly. Of all mechs on base, she wanted him to pick her up? The femme nodded, her smile drooping slightly as Ratchet made no move to pick her up. Starlight's lower lip components began to waver dangerously, her optics glazing over with tears. Ratchet hurriedly picked her up, lest she begin crying – he was on his own taking care of her today. The femmes had taken the bigger younglings to play outside while she was left inside under his watchful optic. Starlight was too small to be playing outside without one-on-one attention. Nightshade had simply handed Ratchet the little femme and her supply bag and marched from the room, leaving behind her a bewildered mech and sligthly drooly youngling.

Digging through the bag, he found a datapad containing all of Starlight's favorite toys, songs, and learning topics, along with a short message that said he needed to learn how to interact with little ones, since he was expecting one of his own in the next year.

Currently, Ratchet was holding Starlight underneath her arms, holding her away from his body. Starlight whimpered quietly, her tiny legs kicking out. Ratchet tentatively cuddled her to his chest. Starlight squeaked happily upon having a solid surface to cling to, and she buried her face into Ratchet's chest plates. He groaned quietly as she latched onto him. If she was anything like the other younglings he had observed, she wasn't going to be letting him go any time soon. He let go of her and his theory was confirmed. It was as though Starlight had somehow welded to him.

Ratchet sighed.

It was going to be a very long day.

Ratchet was a very intelligent mech – in fact, he was considered one of the brightest students at the medical school. However, some things just didn't add up in his computing processor. The incident began when Starlight claimed that she was bored. Ratchet proceeded to hand her a holocube. Not knowing what to do with it, Starlight began chewing on the polymer casing, finding it soft and just the right consistency to nibble on happily.

Ratchet was stuck cleaning up the rejected contents of her fuel tanks when she accidentally swallowed a piece of the plastic. After that, he put her in her playpen, but she then threw a tamtrum. The irritated mech rummaged through one of the filing cabinets in the corner and pulled out a set of paints, thinking it would be great to expose the femme to different creative mediums. Sunstreaker had been knocked silly in a fight and had had the paints in a subspace pocket. Ratchet had merely forgotten to return them. Now he could put them to good use.

Then he proceeded to set Starlight down on the largest piece of paper that he could find and hand her the paints. Then he heard the emergency alarm go off out in the medical bay. His medical training took over and he forgot about the youngling and he disappeared into the medical bay. It was a false alarm involving Wheeljack, Sunstreaker, and one very disgruntled moose.

It was a little over five minutes later before he came back into the room. Starlight was no longer the pretty little silver and blue femme that she once was – now she was covered in lurid shades of green and pink. So was the rest of his office.

"Starlight, why are you covered in paint?"

"Star bored! Paint with me, Ratch!"

"No, Starlight. Bath time," Ratchet said, picking the youngling up and holding her as far away from his body that he could. Droplets of green and pink paint splattered onto the floor and he sighed heavily. He was going to have to clean this up by himself, too.

"No, I don't wanna bath! No! I like pink paint! NO!"

Starlight's shrieks grew to audio splitting levels as he approached the sink in the medical bay.

"Starlight, be quiet – AH!"

Starlight had sunk her tiny dental plates into the soft polymer that covered Ratchet's hand.

"Now you are definitely taking a bath, little femme – don't give me that look! See? Here's your rubber ducky," Ratchet said, squeezing the little creature. Starlight chirped unhappily at the water, giving Ratchet a malicious glare.

"No, don't wanna bath. NO NO NO!" The little femme started screaming her vocal processors out once she was set into the warm cleaning fluid. Then she started slapping at the fluid, sending it flying everywhere. Ratchet glared down at Starlight, determined not to lose their mini-staring contest. Starlight's lower lip components began to waver dangerously and fat tears rolled down the sides of her face. The tears dissolved the thin sheen of paint on her cheeks before splattering into the sink. Ratchet then took pity on the little femme.

"Starlight, you're all dirty. You're much prettier when you're silver and blue," Ratchet said gently, reaching for the scrubbing brush sitting in Starlight's bag. Starlight shook her head vehemently.

"I wanna be pink and green!"

"I thought you wanted to be just like Nightshade and Chromia," Ratchet said, slyly hiding the brush behind his back. Starlight nodded enthusiastically.

"I wanna be like Night and Chromie," Starlight said. She began to put her hand in her mouth but Ratchet pushed it down.

"No, don't put your hand in your mouth. You can't eat that paint, Starlight. It will make you sick again."

"Oh." Starlight then dunked her hand back under the water and giggled as the paint turned the water pink. Ratchet covered the scrubbing brush in his hand with a mild detergent, reaching for Starlight at the same time. He began gently scrubbing the youngling's back, dissolving the paint there. He was thankful for her relatively short attention span.

"Where Chromie and Night?"

"They're outside with the other younglings. Raise up your arm, Starlight."

"I wanna play outside, too, Ratch."

"I will take you outside if you take a bath," Ratchet said, raising one optical ridge at the femme. Starlight squealed happily, grabbing the brush from his hand.

"'kay, Ratch!"

Much to his amusement, the little femme began scrubbing her arms clumsily with the brush. He chuckled quietly, lending a hand to help her. She began laughing happily, slapping the surface of the water, splashing bubbles every where. Ratchet felt a smile threatening to emerge on his face plates. Starlight only giggled harder as he gently scrubbed her back with a rag, trying to get all of the paint off of her.

"We've got to get you nice and clean before Nightshade comes back, Starlight," Ratchet said, giving the femme the most serious look he could muster. Starlight stopped laughing and peered up at him.

"Why?"

"Because Nightshade said that we weren't going to get energon goodies if she came back and you were dirty," Ratchet said, nodding. Starlight's optics widened – no energon candy?! – and she squeaked. Ratchet almost burst into laughter when the little femme grabbed the cleaning solvent bottle and tried to open it. Ratchet helped her open the bottle and he watched as she scrubbed herself clean. He smirked slightly before hefting her from the sink.

"You were quite dirty, Starlight," Ratchet commented. Starlight didn't answer. She instead curled up against his chest, shuttering her optics. The little femme was in recharge within moments. Sighing quietly, Ratchet wrapped her up in a thick blanket and placed her under a heating vent.

He made his way over to the window and gazed outside. The femmes and younglings outside were colorful blobs on the green grass below if he didn't use his magnifying software. A dark blue smear of color broke away from the group, being chased by several of the smaller bits of color. He chuckled as he saw the younglings tackle Nightshade's legs, sending the femme onto the soft, springy grass face first.

Starlight chirped quietly in her sleep and he glanced over at her. Sudden melancholy hit him. His younger brother…his younger brother had been the exact same silver color as Starlight. He felt his optics burn slightly as memories flooded from his memory banks.

-flashback-

"Your creator is in here, little one," the attendant said, pushing open a large metal door. The youngling tottered down the hallway, frightened and lost. Where was papa? Then he saw the familiar green mech – his creator! The youngling chirped happily and began running on unsteady legs toward the mech.

"Ratchet! There you are, my little youngling! Come here and give me a hug," the mech said, scooping up Ratchet and holding him close. The mech pressed his foreplates against Ratchet's. The youngling almost went cross-optic trying to gaze back at his father.

"You have a younger brother now, Ratchet," the mech said, placing a kiss on Ratchet's olfactory receptors. Ratchet giggled quietly and clapped his hands, pulling away from the mech.

"I wanna see, I wanna see!"

"Shh, little one. Your mother is very, very tired. So is your little brother. You must keep very quiet," the older mech warned gently. Ratchet nodded seriously. He had been patiently awaiting the arrival of his sibling for many orns. His father pushed the door open quietly and stepped inside. The room within was white and pristine. The soft white of the room was broken only by the black femme sitting on a berth, holding a silver bundle to her chest.

"Storm, bring Ratchet closer…he needs to bond with our little one, too," the femme said, smiling up at Ratchet and his father.

"I'm not sure…he's too little."

"I'm not little! I'm a big mech," Ratchet squeaked out, frowning up at his father. Stormbringer only laughed, placing a second kiss on Ratchet's foreplate.

"I'm certain that you are, little one. Here, sit beside your mother. And stay very still. The sparkling is still recharging."

"'kay," Ratchet said, crawling over beside his mother. He clambered into her lap, peering into the bundle she carried. The recharging sparkling was quite small, smaller than anything Ratchet had ever played with. He gently prodded the sparkling. Its optics came to life with a tiny whirr.

"What's his name," Ratchet asked.

"For now, we will be calling him Flash," Daybreak responded, reaching up to gently caress the sparkling's head. Ratchet nodded.

"Would you like to hold him," she prompted him. Ratchet nodded enthusiastically, holding his arms out.

"No, no, Ratchet. Come and sit here," Stormbringer said, sitting close by his sparkmate and hefting Ratchet into his lap. Once Ratchet was settled, the sparkling was gently lowered into his arms.

"Say hello, Flash," the femme cooed softly, stroking the side of the sparkling's helm. Bright blue optics came to life and Ratchet found himself completely enraptured by the youngling. The sparkling waved a tiny fist up at him, chirping curiously up at the new face.

"Hi, Flash. I'm your big brother," Ratchet said quietly, taking the sparkling's hand in his own.

Three vorns later…

"MOTHER! Streak's eating my holocubes! Make him stop," Ratchet wailed, doing his best to tug the holocube from the youngling. Streak laughed excitedly. Instead of clamping down on the cube, he clamped down on Ratchet's arm. His femme creator came running at the high pitched scream that erupted from the youngling on the carpet.

"What is it, my little Ratchet? What's the matter?"

"IT BIT ME!"

"Now, now, Ratchet, Streak is your brother, not 'it'."

"He bit me!"

"Let me see. Ooh, that doesn't look good. I'll call your father down and we'll go to the clinic," she said, gently turning Ratchet's wrist over. He snuggled into his mother's chassis, demanding love and attention through their bond. She laughed quietly, holding him closer.

"Of course I love you, my little sweetspark! Now, dry those tears and we'll get that looked at."

Flash gurgled from where he lay on the floor, staring up at his mother and brother upside down. Then he reached up both of his arms, chirping quietly. Ratchet recognized the noise that Flash used to speak to him – it was a kind of whirring noise.

"Go 'way, Flash," Ratchet mumbled quietly, glaring down at the sparkling. Flash cocked his head quizzically before chirping again.

When his mother scooped Flash into her other arm, Ratchet wriggled free, dropping onto the ground. Ratchet was upset. He was with her first! Why did Streak always have to ruin everything?

"Ratchet, sweetspark, what is the matter?"

"I want you momma, I don't want Flash," Ratchet said stubbornly, batting the femme away. She gazed down at him curiously.

"I'm here, Ratchet. Why are you so upset, little one?"

"You never spend time with me any more. You're always with Flash."

"That isn't true, Ratchet. I am always with you, you know that," his mother began gently, but Ratchet interrupted her by vehemently shaking his head.

"No! You don't let me recharge with you and dada anymore! You never take me to the park, you only take Flash!"

"Ratchet, calm down. Don't be so angry. Flash is your brother. You should love him," she said quietly, her optics full of hurt. Ratchet ignored the shimmering tears threatening to overflow her optics and he continued yelling. Flash watched on, frightened at the sudden anger that invaded his tiny spark. He was used to only love and happiness, not this new frightening emotion. He chirred quietly, clutching at his femme-creator tightly. Why was Big Brother acting so strangely?

"I don't want Flash! Send him back! I want you and dada back!"

Ratchet pushed his mother and younger brother from his spark. His mother sniffled quietly, holding the sparkling in her arms to her chest.

"Ratchet, you can't honestly mean that! He's your brother. You were both created from my spark and body. Your bond to your brother is special – don't speak of him like that," she said, anger starting to rise in her voice.

"SEND HIM BACK! I don't like him! I don't want him!"

"Ratchet, how dare you raise your voice to your mother," came a low growl from the doorway. His father stood in the doorway, looming ominously over the youngling. Instead of quieting down, he turned his anger over to his mech creator.

"I don't want Flash! He's stupid and he's annoying!"

"Ratchet!"

Before either of them could react, Ratchet had already run from the room. Ratchet disappeared into his room and crawled under his recharge berth. The youngling curled up and began crying, feeling nothing but guilt at having hurt his creators and sibling.

It was a little over a half-joor later before Stormbringer came into the room. By then, Ratchet had cried himself dry. Now he was staring up at the bottom of his recharge berth miserably. Stormbringer peered under the bed, sighing heavily upon seeing Ratchet's curled up form.

"Ratchet, it's time for you to come out now," he said gently.

"No…I hurt momma and Flash…"

"Please come out, Ratchet."

"No, momma doesn't want me. She wants Flash," Ratchet said. There wasn't a trace of bitterness in his tone, only sadness and acceptance. Stormbringer jerked back in surprise.

"Ratchet – "

"Are you and momma going to send me to the adoption center," Ratchet asked quietly, his optics full of fear. Stormbringer shook his head.

"No, no, no, Ratchet, we would never do that! We love you, sweetspark," Stormbringer said, reaching both hands to the youngling. Ratchet scooted further toward the wall, shaking his head.

"No! You don't like me any more."

"Don't say things like that, Ratchet! Your mother and I love you very much," Stormbringer said gently, reaching out to Ratchet.

"Then why do you spend all your time with Flash? You never take me to the learning center any more...you never take me to the park anymore, and you never let me recharge with you and momma, and you never play games with me –"

"That's enough of that, Ratchet. We just can't do all of the fun things we used to do with Flash. He's too small and he can get hurt easily," Stormbringer interrupted hastily, wincing as he realized that they had neglected Ratchet.

"He's just a dumb baby," Ratchet said, his nasal plates curling up in disgust.

"No, he's too small to play games like you and me play. Mother is still carrying him – she can't take you out while she carries him. She doesn't have enough energy," Stormbringer said, lying down beside the berth and watching as his son turned away from him.

"But…I miss my momma."

"I know you do, little one, I know you do. Now come here, Ratchet."

Ratchet stared at the wall beside him, wishing he could stay there for the rest of his life. Then he scooted out from underneath the bed, reaching up to his mech creator. Stormbringer held the youngling close to him, reassuring him through their bond.

"Shh, little one. I know you're upset that we're spending a lot of time with Flash. You have to understand that he's your brother, too. You need to spend time with him. You have a bond with him, a special bond. You'll always have a bond with him. The bond that you and I, or you and your mother have will eventually become weak. Your bond with Flash will always be strong. Please don't push him away, it makes him sad," Stormbringer said quietly, reassuring the youngling in his arms.

Ratchet nodded quietly, holding onto his mech creator's neck as tightly as possible.

"Now, you need to go downstairs and apologize to momma. She's very upset and hurt at the mean things you said."

Ratchet nodded once more. The mech carried Ratchet down the stairwell and into their commons room. His mother was sitting in one of the couches, sipping a cube of energon. Flash was recharging on the cushion beside her, his tiny fingers in his mouth. Stormbringer set Ratchet down on the ground. His mother rose to her feet but Ratchet had already crossed the room. He latched onto her legs, sobbing into her knee joints.

"I'm sorry, momma, I didn't mean to hurt you or Flash," he said, his tiny fists wrapped around her legs. She looked up at Stormbringer with shock in her optics before gently prying him from her legs.

"Come here, Ratchet. Dry your tears, shh. Sit with momma and you can tell me what was bothering you."

Ratchet nodded miserably before burying his head into her chest plate. He couldn't look at his mother. He was ashamed of what he did. He deserved to be sent to the adoption center, he hurt Flash! He was supposed to protect Flash, not say mean things and take his toys.

His mother sat down, holding Ratchet close to her spark. She reached to him through their bond, sending him all the love that she could and he responded in the same manner. He felt a second consciousness tugging at his and he gazed at his brother, who'd just awakened.

"Flash?"

The sparkling squeaked happily at his name.

"I'm sorry I said those mean things. I don't know if you understand me, but…I'm sorry. I won't ever hurt you again. I'll be a good big brother," Ratchet vowed quietly, reaching a hand out to the sparkling. Flash eagerly latched onto Ratchet's hand, squeaking and chirping happily. His mother gazed down at them happily. Stormbringer knelt on the floor before the femme, holding her hand tightly.

Flash squeaked a few times, testing out his vocal modulators.

"Rrra?"

"What was that, Flash?"

"Ttcht.."

"Stormbringer, he's trying to talk!"

"Chtt…raaa?"

"Go on, little one," Stormbringer said, clutching at the sparkling's other hand. Ratchet watched on, his optics wide with excitement. His mother leaned over the both of them, fairly glowing with happiness. The sparkling's face plates screwed up, as though he were thinking hard.

"Wachet?"

"Storm…I think he said Ratchet's name."

"Wachet! Rrraatch?"

"Yes, go on, Flash, say it – 'Ra-chet'," Stormbringer urged quietly.

"Ratch…Watchet?"

Daybreak and Stormbringer laughed happily.

"Ratchet, he said your name!"

"Fwash," the sparkling said, pointing at himself.

"Good, Flash, now who is that," Daybreak asked eagerly, pointing at Stormbringer.

"Dada!"

"And who am I?"

"Momma!"

"And who is that?"

"Watchet! B-bwother!"

-end flashback-

Ratchet shook his cranial unit slightly, pushing away the sadness in his spark. It was true what Stormbringer had said. He and Flash shared a strong bond. From that moment on, Ratchet could not be seperated from his baby brother. Ratchet felt the gaping hole in his spark where his brother's prescence used to be. He lost his creators, yes, but since he was a mech, their bond eventually broke down to nothing more than a link. He and Flash were almost like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, except they couldn't share thoughts. Only emotions.

He felt a soft hand on his back and he whirled around. Nightshade stood before him.

"Oh! Nightshade!"

"You're upset," she said by way of greeting, pulling him into an embrace.

"I…remembered some things…I didn't mean to project it, Nightshade. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Ratchet. Those memories were truly beautiful," she said softly, reaching up to stroke the side of his face. Ratchet nodded slightly, pulling Nightshade as close as he could. He wrapped his presence around her spark, trying to initiate a sparkmerge program. She giggled quietly, feeling him tug at her spark suggestively.

"There's a youngling in the room!"

"She's recharging! Besides, she doesn't know what we're doing," Ratchet purred quietly.

"Ratchet! Behave!"

"Is Ratchet being bad? Put him in the corner," Starlight mumbled sleepily, turning her bleary gaze over at the pair. Nightshade giggled at the look on Ratchet's face plates.

"Maybe I should put him in the corner!"

"No you won't, femme!"

Starlight giggled quietly and curled back up, initiating her recharge program once more. Nightshade watched on, a small smile on her face.

"Primus, Ratchet…we'll have one of our own doing that pretty soon," she said quietly, leaning into his embrace. Ratchet nodded, making a soft humming noise. He led her over to a window seat, pulling her into his lap. She purred contentedly as she leaned against him. The sun was starting to sink in the sky. The sky turned a myriad of different colors – splashes of indigo on the opposite horizon, dotted with the red pinpricks of airplanes, above them the sky was a deep, hazy reddish-gold, and the horizon turned a blazing yellow. Slowly the entire sky turned to indigo, then to black. The first stars began to twinkle to life above them. With them came a few gusts of cold air and a few weak snow flurries. Nightshade yawned quietly, covering her mouth components with one hand.

Ratchet pressed his lip components against the top of her head, resting his hand against her reproductive tank. He could barely feel it, but it was there. The spark she carried was still too small to be a well defined presence. All he could feel were a few weak fluttering pulses of energy which were interspersed with periods of rest. Nightshade pressed his hand into her reproductive tank.

"Can you feel it yet?"

"Just barely," Ratchet responded quietly, reaching his spark out to the one she carried. There was a tiny bit of something and he reached for it, but it disappeared before he could determine what it was.

"It's too small for that," she admonished gently, rubbing his hand.

"I know…I just want to feel our sparkling," he said dejectedly, resting his chin against her head. She hummed quietly.

"If you want to…I can try to uplink you to my sensory network," she said quietly.

"You can do that," Ratchet asked, surprised. He had never known that! Was it a femme thing? Thanks to the scarcity of available femmes back on Cybertron, a full study had never been conducted. Sure, they knew the basic parts – reproductive tank, spark-carrying chamber, and other gender-defining gizmos. The physical aspects and quite a few theories (including this one) were all known, yes. The only problem was that no femme was willing to even think about risking her sparkling's life to prove a theory. Ratchet felt his spark rise giddily – not only would he be able to properly greet his sparkling, he would receive priceless information!

Ratchet took the offered black cable eagerly, inserting it into the port on his wrist. He linked to her systems, sitting quietly until she had run the necessary programs.

I can't guarantee that it will be a perfect rendition of what I feel, but I'll make it as close as possible, she sent via messaging. He responded with a note of understanding, preferring to use their bond.

Spark-mate attempting to access sensory network. Continue?

Spark-mate has accessed sensory network and attempting to send data. Continue?

Download in progress…one breem…

Ratchet sent the file directly to his sensory network module and then opened it. The change was instantaneous. He was a bit frightened by the new sensations and drew back. Nightshade responded by assuring him through their bond and pulling him forwards.

You're in my sensory network, so take it easy! That hurts!

He apologized profusely. Then he began exploring her network eagerly, taking different measurements and recording data. He went from data packet to data packet, peeking at everything that he came to. Soon, his temporary memory banks were filled to the brim and he sighed dejectedly, wistfully nudging at the next data packet. Nightshade sent him pure amusement.

Have you forgotten what you're here for? And hurry up, the link's starting to break down.

He apologized gently and settled back as she guided him to the right data packet. She opened it and Ratchet immersed himself into what she felt. It was a bit odd. There was a presence pulsating in his abdomen – kind of warm, kind of tingly, and alive. It tickled him and he had to fight down the urge to laugh. The spark reached to him tentatively, knowing that the new presence was its sire. It didn't understand how but it reached to him. Shocked, Ratchet caressed the sparkling through the strange bond.

Nightshade watched, or rather 'sensed', her mate's actions and filled her bonds with pure happiness. The spark responded in the same manner. Awestruck, Ratchet continued to interact with the spark until a fuzzy message flickered across his vision.

Link…breaki…own…

Ratchet's optics came online with a whirr and he shook his cranial unit, confused. Nightshade gazed up at him expectantly. She almost squeaked in surprise when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. She melted into the sensations, eagerly kissing him back. After a breem or so, he pulled away gently.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Nightshade. I'm honored," he said seriously, taking her hands in his. She nodded, a soft smile on her face.

"Just…don't get too excited. Little Spark is exhausted and it needs to rest for a while."

Ratchet nodded enthusiastically, ecstatic that she would allow him a second chance to interact with their sparkling. Normally, femmes wouldn't allow their mates to do as such. The males of their species were generally blunt and almost 'lumbered' around. Their presence, while beneficial to the growing sparkling, could have also harmed the little one. Most mechs didn't have the finesse that Ratchet had.

Though Nightshade trusted her mate with her life, she still had initiated a back up plan if something went wrong. The file would immediately reject Ratchet's codes from her systems and block him from attempting to try the bond again. Her life was inconsequential to the one she carried – most mechs didn't know just how deep a femme's devotion to her sparkling went.

Ratchet held her tightly, kissing the top of her head once more. They sat in silence, gazing up at the stars. They were distracted by a tiny noise and they both turned. Starlight was walking across the floor. Her footsteps were tiny pattering noises, barely audible. She reached up to Nightshade and Ratchet, begging to be held.

"Up?"

They missed the streak of light that crossed the horizon behind them.

The screen in the communications center fizzled to life. A light on the console began blinking rhythmically, clicking softly in the empty room. The message that began playing on the screen was static filled and barely decipherable.

"My…is…Emirate…ambassador…and…refug…Cybertron…three…cycles…soon!...Prime…thank you…."

The mech on the screen disappeared from view two seconds later. The noise from the static soon disappeared and the image was replaced by the autobot logo. The only thing different was the soft, rhythmic clicking and blinking of the red light.

The message wouldn't be discovered until late next morning.

Music: "Wait til I Get There" by Eric Durrance

Writing the part with Ratchet's little brother made me tear up a few times. All I can say is that you don't know what you've got til you've lost it...but...don't wait until that moment to realize that.

And the new guy? Ohohohoh, YES! We're getting to the ChromieXIronhide half of the chapter! Y'all have no idea how excited I am about the next chapter!