A Trip to the Skate Park

Chapter 7: Trust Me

Getting ready to meet Ratchet was always a complicated process. It didn't used to be. At one time, Mikaela would just slap on whatever clothes happened to be handy, throw her hair up in a pony tail, chuck on some make-up and viola! ready to go.

Not anymore.

Since the Autobots and the U.S. government had started building an actual base for the 'bots to call home, and Ratchet had finally gotten a medical bay, he'd been teaching Mikaela the art of becoming a Cybertronian medic. She suspected he had two reasons for doing this. For one, he really seemed to enjoy teaching. For another, well, it was very likely that soon they would be in all out war with the Decepticons, and Ratchet seemed to feel like it would be wise to have another person with at least rudimentary triage skills.

Mikaela was cool with that. She found them endlessly fascinating. She didn't fool herself any though, there was no way she could ever work as a human doctor. Nope, too gross. All blood and guts that all looked alike. The Cybertronians, though, that was a different story. They were mechanical. She would never say so to one of them because she had the feeling it might be taken as a slight, but to her, patching up one of them was a lot like working on a car.

And she loved it. Who would have thought it would take a super-advanced race of giant alien robots falling out of the sky to help her find her true calling?

Mikaela loved working with Ratchet, too. For someone so often grouchy, he could be endlessly patient when he was explaining the functions of some of the more intricate Cybertronian parts, or when he was trying to explain to her what a transmogrifier was used for. At first, Mikaela saw him only as her teacher, her mentor. But then she started noticing things. Just little things at first. Like how his dry, acerbic humor could keep her laughing most of the day. How dedicated he was to his work, and how he actually cared about his commrades. Ratchet was different from human doctors. There was no money or glory involved in his work, he did it only because he cared about his people.

Then she started noticing other, more disturbing things. Like how gracefully his hands moved when he was working, and how sexy that was. Even his slightly clipped British accent was enormously attractive to her. And speaking of his accent, she was able to talk to him for hours on any topic without getting bored, or they could slip into an easy comfortable silence that lasted for hours. She'd never even been able to do that with Sam.

Mikaela realized her attraction to Ratchet all at once. One moment she was blissfully ignorant of such feelings, and the next, they crashed in on her, like they'd been creeping around just waiting for the right moment. Of course, that was when she'd started having problems.

Like the 'getting ready' thing. She was never sure what to wear now. She didn't want to get too dressed up because then Ratchet might think she was doing it for him. She would be, but she didn't want him knowing that, either. She also worried about dressing too far down because she didn't want him to think she was letting herself go. In the end, she decided she should just invest in a pair of 'work' cover-alls and call it good.

She also didn't know how to act around him anymore. She tried to act normal, but usually failed. Mikaela was afraid that if Ratchet suspected she had feelings beyond the realm of teacher/student, he might not want to teach her anymore. Then, not only would she lose her time with the medic, she'd potentially lose her dream job.

Shit.

And now, that destiny was very close at hand. She was quite sure that Ratchet had nothing but platonic feelings for her, and she was also sure he didn't know how she felt for him (she was always careful to watch her thoughts around him, she knew full well he could read her hormones as easily as she could read a Dick and Jane children's primer), but all that was going to change very soon.

Mikaela was very sure that Bee was telling the truth when he said he'd rat her out to Ratchet if she told Sam that Bee loved him, but she'd done it anyway. She couldn't help it. Pride was the only reason Bee hadn't said anything himself, and as far as Mikaela was concerned it was looking like he was about ready to pride himself right into a very lonely life. Besides, she'd always suspected Sam had deeper feelings for Bee than even he knew about, that's why she'd broken up with him in the first place. It was easier to let it go then, as opposed to waiting until their relationship advanced even further.

And now, as soon as Bumblebee discovered she spilled the beans, he would tell Ratchet all about Mikaela's feelings for him.

At first, the idea terrified her. Then, oddly enough, she'd felt a tension knot inside her loosen and release. Maybe it was better if her feelings were out in the open. Maybe then she could be herself around the medic. Besides, Ratchet wasn't some dumbassed teenager boy. When the truth came out, she'd simply tell him that she understands Ratchet's lack of feelings towards her, and hopes that they can still remain friends.

That was actually a pretty good plan.

Grinning to herself, Mikaela finished getting dressed and ran outside to her motorcycle.

It didn't take her long to get to the base (she was speeding), and she found Ratchet in the back of the bay, organizing some equipment. He heard her walk in, and without turning around asked, "Having a good day?"

"Great, the weather's really nice today."

Oh my God, that was so LAME! If she could have slapped herself without Ratchet thinking she'd lost her mind, she would have. Instead, she tried to cover her lameness by pointing out the obvious and making it a question, "Organizing some stuff?"

Ratchet turned to look at her, his faceplates arranged in the closest he ever got to a smile. She could hear the air cycling through his intakes and briefly thought about how comforting that sound was.

"Yes. I must apologize. I don't think today will be very interesting for you. I will be responsible for treating some of the human soldiers as well as the Autobots. I was hoping you wouldn't mind helping me organize some of the human supplies that have just come in."

Why did he have to have such a nice voice?

"Sure. Easier for me to do it, my hands are smaller."

Ratchet pointed her in the right direction, and she got to work. She would place supplies and things in bins, and neatly label them. Some things she wasn't too sure where to put, so she just put them where she thought they should go. They also had a small pharmacy worth of drugs, antibiotics and what not. She knew nothing about them really, but decided to alphabetize them by generic name. She wasn't too worried about Ratchet being able to find things, after all, he was a robot, he'd know exactly where everything was the first time he looked.

Mikaela got so caught up in her work, she didn't even realize that the sun had set, and darkenss had fallen.

"It's getting late Mikaela. Perhaps you should tell your father you're going to be here for the night. I really don't think you should be riding around on your human death-machine after dark."

"You know, Ratch, it does have lights on it. But I don't mind staying here."

Ratchet scowled at her. Now that was a look she was familar with. "Mikaela, are you alright?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. It is just that you seem--"

Mikaela never got to find out exactly how she seemed because at that moment Ratchet cocked his head sharply to the side, like he was listening to something she couldn't hear. And he probably was.

Ratchet moved lightening fast across the med-bay to the giant sized door, once again making Mikaela wonder how beings that were so huge could be so agile and graceful. "I have to go. Bumblebee is in a panic, he may do something rash."

"What? What's going on? Ratchet!"

"I don't have time to explain, we're meeting out front." He interrupted her before she even had a chance to get the words out. "No, Mikaela. You stay here. Just go on to your quarters. Go!"

Without another word, Ratchet spun on his heel and left at a run. Mikaela could hear the other Autobots doing the same. Wherever they were going, they were in a hurry to get there. And Mikaela was left alone, worried and disapointed.

He must have passed out. One second he was looking around in pure terror, the next, he was opening his eyes to a scene that distilled his terror to an even finer quality. Sam was pretty sure it was fear or shock that triggered his escape from awareness. At the moment, at least he was in no physical pain.

He looked around, desperately, but soon realized he had no out. He was chained to a cold metal table, spread-eagle, with his hands above his head. And he was surrounded. He of course recognized Barricade, and there, beside him, was Starscream, but there were at least five other Decepticons that he had no names for. They surrounded his table, in a wide circle, not yet bearing down on him, but close enough for him to see them. Even if he could somehow magically escape his bonds, there was nowhere to go.

Starscream's shrill voice rang out over the jeering crowd, "The boy cannot be killed, we have plans for him. But we can keep him. We can break him."

More jeering. And then, Barricade was being pushed, closer to the table. Sam looked him carefully, and saw that his face, like the others, showed only vicious, vindictive pleasure. Looking closer, Sam was unsuprised to see that Barricade's hands were once again sharp, talon-like spikes. Once, he'd taken such pride in the fact that Barricade had changed his hands just for him. Now, it was all he could do not to hide his face in shame. He'd fallen for Barricade, hook, line, and sinker. He'd risked everything, his life, and his friendships for the Decepticon because he'd believed that maybe there was something decent in him, and he'd been fooled.

He almost wished they would tear him to shreds. No physical pain, no matter how mortal the wound could ever be as bad as the burning humilation and sense of loss he felt as he watched his lover look on him with nothing but cold hatred and triumph in his eyes.

Barricade stepped even closer to Sam, towering over him as he lay shivering on the metal table. He lowered one wicked looking claw, and with one swipe, shredded all of Sam's outer clothing, leaving only his boxers intact.

Inanely, Sam thought, Now I know why Mom always insisted I never leave home without putting on clean underwear.

Roughly, Barricade yanked the remaining scraps of clothing from beneath Sam's back, so that he was lying only on the cold table. His skin siezed up into gooseflesh, and he turned his head. He didn't need a PowerPoint presentation to figure out what was coming next, and he decided that no matter what happened, he wouldn't cry or beg. They had already wrung enough humilation out of him, he wouldn't help them add to it.

The felt the sharp edge of one of Barricade's claws tracing over his skin, ever so lightly, and for one terrible moment, he thought he was going to have to fight his body once again, just like that first time Barricade had shoved him into his car-alt.

The cold chill of the table put an end to that. Thank God. Still, though, the tracing continued. He's probably trying to decide where and how deep he can cut without killing me. Wouldn't want to go against orders.

Then Sam started noticing patterns in the way his claw moved over his flesh. It wasn't random. Not at all. It was a game they used to play. Sam would stretch out on Barricade, and 'write' messages on the metal skin of his hood with one finger, and see if Barricade could figure out what he was trying to tell him. They'd both actually gotten really good at it, and they were able to send each other fairly long messages that way.

Putting his fear aside for a moment, but not turning his head or opening his eyes, Sam started to concentrate. After a second to get himself together, he had no problems understanding.

A small light of hope glimmered. Sam so wanted to believe the words Cade was tracing on his skin, but at the same time, he was nearly convinced it was a trick.

Using their secret game (secret, because Sam thought it was a silly thing for a guy to enjoy) Cade had managed to convey a simple two word message to Sam:

TRUST ME.

A/N: It's been awhile, eh? I hope it's been worth the wait for you guys. As I get busier, it gets harder to update in a timely fashion, though, I will admit, this probably would have been out a few days sooner if I hadn't gotten side-tracked writing an Optimus/Mikaela fic-- Death Do Us Part. I couldn't help it though, the plot bunnies wouldn't leave me alone. XD Still, better late than never? For all of you that have been hanging in there with this fic, thanks more than you know. The response to this story was really suprising to me. 18,000 hits, 164 alerts, and 98 faves. WOW! All ya'll rock!

I hope I deserve it =)

Xen