A/N: The next two weeks are shaping up to be a little busy on the work front but I'll do my best to get the next chapter up within a week, anyway. *cough* But if it gets a day or two delayed, now you know why.

Will wasn't sure when things had started to go wrong, but he suspected it had been before he had ever set foot on the ground again after his morning flight. He had already found that he was unnaturally annoyed at the fact that he'd had to land at all, and there had been something stirring in the back of his new processors when Ironhide had mentioned training with Sideswipe that was definitely not the interest and arousal he had grown used to. He hadn't been sure if it had been a good or a bad thing – the Seeker had shown interest in Sideswipe as a potential interface partner before, if not as a mate – but the Seeker had pushed down the emotions again before Will could get to examine them any further and thus left him with nothing but resigned bewilderment.

He had been unnaturally annoyed when he had headed out for the lesson – the ground was annoying, the sand was annoying, the clouds were in his slagging way – and it had been pure stubbornness that had kept him from calling off the training session at all, Ironhide's reaction be damned. He had energy to get rid of and Sideswipe was quick, brutal, and lethal, and that sort of training was exactly what he needed to handle those little Seeker issues.

Sideswipe was Sideswipe, and a Seeker hadn't been meant for ground-based fighting, and Will had been on his back within fifteen seconds, with one blade against his throat and the ghost of a smirk on the other mech's features, and the only warning Will got was the unusual, unnatural lack of the half attraction, half arousal that was normally there when he had been bested by someone stronger and more skilled than himself. The Seeker was attracted to Ironhide and enjoyed being confirmed in its choice of mate. The Seeker was attracted to Sideswipe...

The thought trailed off, and something stirred in the back of his processors as he got back on his feet, burned brighter and hotter in a sudden flare of emotion, and recognition clicked in a second too late to matter as the Seeker moved to the front of their processors and restless annoyance became so much more.

Not mate.

Sideswipe moved before Will had the chance to warn him, impossibly fast in a blur of silver and grey and then the Seeker was off, five tons of jet transforming and taking off in the space of a heartbeat and the emotion burned bright and fierce and all-consuming as every last bit of Seeker instinct focused on crushing the ground-bound being that had challenged its superiority.

Small, pathetic, worthless thing-

- and he spun and turned, felt Sideswipe's sword barely miss him and defiance surge as his human awareness was caught up in the rush of it all as well, strength and grace and beauty and the Seeker snarled its defiance to the world around them-

- slow, unworthy piece of scrap-

- and there was nothing he could have done to stop it, even if he had wanted to anymore. The Seeker entwined with the human mind, backed off and approached and picked apart the aspects it needed in the space of a heartbeat, and the world glowed brighter and harsher and slowed as he saw what the Seeker saw and the impossibly fast movements of a living blade on wheels became slow, sluggish-

- weak, vulnerable, useless ground-pounder-

- and they landed on concrete with a defiant screech, hands and arms already transforming, and Will had less than a second to realise what was happening.

No!

No one had been stupid enough to give him missiles yet – thank Primus – but the Gatling gun was functional as a just-in-case precaution and it was out and aimed in the second it took Will to react, and he would never know if the Seeker would have fired and it was a question he wasn't sure he ever wanted to have answered, either.

Sideswipe froze, balanced with impossible skill and two swords raised and ready to strike but not moving just yet, and thank Primus, Will realised, that someone had more sense that the Seeker currently did. One second, then two, stretching on endlessly as nobody seemed willing to even breathe-

- and then his bond surged, white-hot and blinding as pain flared through his spark, his processors, and he was screaming before he knew it, loud and high-pitched beyond human hearing, and an instant later it was joined by the only slightly lower-pitched sound of a familiar cannon charging.

Will froze, felt the Seeker do the same in stunned surprise – this was mate, why didn't mate get it – and the pain from the bond faded and was replaced by a maelstrom of anger, regret, and worry, and with grim determination resting right at the forefront of it all where the mech damn well knew the Seeker would feel it.

For a second he was tempted. He had no doubt that Ironhide could feel that, even if he was never, ever going to mention it to him, and for a moment he was painfully, horribly tempted. The Seeker was fast, the Seeker was skilled, but Ironhide slagging well knew what he was doing and had enough experience fighting the damn things to know how to target one. He knew what taking off now would look like – Seeker went 'Con, Seeker went Seeker – and knew just as well that it would land him a blast straight through his spark, the bond with Ironhide left little doubt about that.

For a second he was tempted and hated himself for it, for being willing to put his friend through slag like that because he was a coward and too pathetic to do something about it himself-

- and then he pushed the stunned Seeker aside, triggered transformation sequences still unfamiliar to him to watch the gun vanish into the metallic jigsaw puzzle that was his new body, and offered silent feelings of regrets and apologies and resignation through their bond.

I'm sorry.

Sideswipe moved back, blue optics dark and suspicious as he watched their Seeker, and Will firmly ignored the shocked murmurs from the presence in the back of his processors. The anger and annoyance was still there but muted for the time being, a bit of the energy gone through the fight and the rage that had followed, and he steeled himself before he raised his head slightly and met Ironhide's optics above a still-charged cannon. Ratchet was watching at his side but not moving, Sideswipe was watching with his swords still out but making no move to strike just yet, and Will's attention was on nothing but Ironhide as the cannon remained where it was, one silent command away from turning Will's spark casing into molten bits of metal.

No sudden movements, even the Seeker understood that one, and a moment later Will moved, slowly and with his optics never once leaving Ironhide's as he crossed his arms over his chest to keep any potential weapons aimed far away from his brother in arms. Emotions of unarmed-surrender-submission echoed through his bond with the mech and a moment later he was kneeling and ignored the indignant screech of the Seeker in his mind-

- We were challenged, this was right-

- and focused on being as little of a threat as he possibly could with his current body, and Ironhide's gaze rested on him for long seconds before the hum of the cannon faded and the weapon was lowered fractions of an inch to aim somewhere other than straight at Will's spark.

There was the distant sound of a familiar Peterbilt approaching, of tense silence around him and the whisper of metal against metal as Ironhide shifted to glance at Ratchet, and Will knew damn well what he was talking with the other mech about. Ratchet's optics felt heavy on him, made the Seeker shift uneasily in the back of his mind at memories of very hands-on methods, and Will stayed completely still, not sure what would be right to do and what would be wrong, utterly lost about the whole situation as the silence stretched on-

- and finally Ironhide lowered the cannon completely at an unspoken cue from Ratchet and the tension in Will's frame released just enough to make the tip of his wings shudder instinctively.

Thank you, he said silently and suppressed another shudder as entirely-too-accurate memory processors replayed those endless seconds for him over and over again, and he couldn't quite stop the tired curse that followed, more a sigh than an actual word. Frag.

And through their bond, he felt Ironhide's silent agreement.

Fifteen minutes later found Ratchet in Optimus Prime's office, arms crossed in a very human gesture of defiance and with half a processor consistently on his bond with Ironhide as the darker mech kept their Seeker under observation well away from everyone else.

"Instability and lack of self-control had nothing to do with it," Ratchet said and the hardness of his voice was a testament to the mental stress he was under. "That is normal behaviour for an interface-deprived Seeker! Blame me if you must, I was the one too caught up in how well-behaved he was for the breed that I failed to take this situation into account, but neither Lennox nor the Seeker can reasonably be blamed for what happened."

"Sideswipe has expressed his doubts about their loyalties," Prime said, quiet but firm, reminding his CMO of his position in a situation that rank technically didn't even cover, and he gave no hint to his own view of the matter. "As did Major Lennox himself, before he reached his agreement with the Seeker spark. You were there, Ratchet. You know their behaviour carried more than a few reminders of Decepticon mannerisms."

"Because they are a Seeker," Ratchet stressed again and his attention was split between too many different things to keep the urgency entirely out of his voice. "Most Seekers are Decepticons for a reason. He has been well-behaved for their breed until the session today but it doesn't change the fact that he is a Seeker, with Seeker programming in a Seeker body. If he was truly a Decepticon in disguise, he would not have spared Sideswipe, nor would he have surrendered to Ironhide. You have experience with the breed, Optimus, you told me as much. Did you have any experience with the breed when they were not actively courting you?" He was getting too personal, going too far, but right now Ratchet didn't care and he continued before his commander could say anything. "Most Seekers tolerate lowly ground-pounders only for as long as we are attractive to them. Even Autobot Seekers were arrogant, elitist, and self-centered. Why would this one be any different? The fact remains that we have very little detailed knowledge of Seekers as a breed. Before the War, by far the most of Seekers had mates or interface partners. The side effects of prolonged exposure to that energy build-up was never a consideration, and the few of them that had that sort of problem were generally unusual types that preferred to avoid company of any sort. I have examined one – one – Seeker with issues like that in my entire career, Optimus. One Seeker with a damaged wing, whose interface-deprivation was accepted as nothing more than an annoyance by it. I have my theories about Starscream as well but no way to confirm it, obviously. That out there is an Autobot Seeker. A bad-tempered one, but an Autobot nonetheless. He surrendered. He would have let Ironhide fire on him at point-blank. That it not a Decepticon."

Long silence as Ratchet just waited, knowing he had probably gone too far and too stressed to really care, and then Optimus sighed. "What happened out there?"

"Seeker instincts," Ratchet replied. "He is bad-tempered from the effects of that excess energy on his systems. I didn't consider how affected he would be. He had managed well until then but in retrospect..." A shrug, accepting what couldn't be changed. "The only beings he has been around much have been beings he considered a bonded or a potential mate. Programming would ensure that he put on his best behaviour around us. Sideswipe is not a potential mate. He is a ground-pounder – a moderately attractive one of the sort to a Seeker, but a ground-pounder nonetheless – and when he attacked them during their training lesson, the Seeker saw it as a direct challenge. With no programming to rein it in and with the additional problem of their short temper... it did what its instincts told it to. It dealt with the threat."

Silence once more as his Prime considered that and then Optimus sighed again.

"What can be done?"

And wasn't that the question? A quick brush against his bond with Ironhide was enough to confirm that the situation was still under control in that end and thus not likely to provide a convenient distraction for Ratchet, and a moment later the medic straightened slightly. Bad news never got any better because you tried to hide it, he had learned that long before the War had ever started.

"Realistically? Nothing." Too tired to soften the harshness of the words, willing his leader to understand that it was as hard to say as it was to hear, that it wasn't a word spoken lightly, and he continued a moment later. "I have done what I can, Optimus. This is not the Seeker taking control again. This is at the foundation of his core programming, built into his very body, and I can't touch that. Won't touch that. The programming is there for a reason and changing one wrong line of code can be enough to offline a mech. There were scientists who experimented with that when the War began and... research subjects were easier to come by. I may have done questionable things in the line of duty but that was never one of them." He shuttered his optics and some of the cold anger drained from his frame as he repeated his verdict. "I have done what I can, Optimus. I am not Primus. It is not my place."

Silence. Ratchet didn't break it but took the chance to brush against the bond with Ironhide again to keep tabs on his short-tempered patient and was rewarded with an amused feeling of reassurance and calm that belied the tension he could feel in flickers just beneath the surface. Awaiting their Prime's decision with as much apprehension as Ratchet himself, undoubtedly, and then his attention was back on his leader as the mech spoke.

"You told me once you would favour the human." There was no accusation in the words, just the need to get the full picture, and Ratchet nodded and settled for honesty, however little he might want to voice it.

"I would but I can't. Not anymore, not without killing both of them in the process. My initial assessment was wrong. Neither of them are strong enough to manage without the other. In theory I could remove the Seeker part but I won't. If they had been completely separate entities and strong enough to survive on their own... yes. Major Lennox would have lost the Seeker instincts that make him such a skilled flier but he could have survived and adapted. Never be as skilled as before but he would not be grounded. He would learn to fly again given time and practice. But not now. To remove one part would cripple the other and lead to their deactivation. Not immediately, perhaps not for years, but they would not be strong enough to survive without the other part there." Intakes vented softly, resignedly. "Would I deactivate the Seeker part if it could save the human? Yes, if that was necessary and agreed to by the Major. Would I do it when neither can be saved? No. There is a fine line between medical decisions made in the heat of battle and a deliberate offlining, and I will not cross that."

"You like them." Not a question, that, and a fair observation as well, and one that Ratchet didn't argue.

"As a general rule, they are arrogant and disdainful of ground-bound mechs, they have little self-control, they command by fear rather than respect, and there are good reasons why by far the most of them are proud Decepticons." Optics shuttered in a very human gesture of tiredness, and while he understood the conversation was necessary, he wanted to be with his patient because mostly-bonded or not, Ironhide was not a medic and never would be. "But yes, Optimus. I do like them. They are brutal enemies now but they were not always so. They are arrogant but they are honest about what they are and most Seekers are incapable of truly lying about their emotions for anyone. I appreciated the honesty and level of emotion they showed. It was a refreshing change from politics."

Long silence again and this time it was Ratchet who broke it as he forced himself to return to the one question that mattered the most, faction loyalties be fragged. "I can do nothing about that core programming. Interfacing to disperse the effects of that excess energy will make them less temperamental and more controlled but the programming will still be there and Major Lennox is still trying to accept that idea." There was a biting thought lingering in the back of his processors – but why care about that; I hear consent is optional among Decepticons, anyway – but he forced it down before it could make itself to the forefront of his mind. It was an unfair observation. Optimus Prime was required to consider all options, it was just duty as a leader, and Ratchet was well aware that he was being...

… Unreasonable. Temperamental. Annoyed, proud, arrogant-

And the pieces clicked into place.

Primus.

"Ratchet?"

Something must have shown in his expression because Optimus Prime frowned and something in the back of Ratchet's processors did a surprisingly realistic impression of an Earth-deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming Decepticon alt-mode, and he focused on his spark even as he realised what he would find.

Soft, tentative, almost too weak to notice at all but he was a medic and picking up on small details could mean the difference between repairs and offlining, and he felt his uncharacteristic annoyance-tiredness-worry intensify as he focused on what was clearly the beginnings of a bond.

He very carefully did not focus any further on it to avoid making it react in any way, and then he straightened and returned his attention to his Prime. "Permission to leave, sir? There is a medical issue involving our Seeker that needs my attention. It is not an emergency, but-"

"Permission granted," Optimus Prime agreed before he had the chance to finish. "There is no need to explain, old friend. We will talk later. Go."

Ratchet nodded once and was gone, out of the office and back in the hangar itself in moment and transformed an instant later, concrete flying by under his alt-mode as he took off, and he remembered all too clearly his warning to Ironhide.

There are two personalities in there, his mind mocked as it threw his own words back at him. Make very, very sure the human side is interested, too.

And Ratchet could do nothing but snarl with Seeker-like annoyance at the memory of the words and desperately hope he could live up to them as well.