Atonement

Chapter 20-Weighted

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod checked his terminal for any new messages, hopeful for word from Optimus, but he received none. The only important message was one from Ultra Magnus, letting him know Ratchet's request for First Aid to enter the training program at Iacon Medical Center was approved. Hot Rod copied the paperwork from the med center to a data pad, intending to take it to First Aid. He knew the medic's feelings on the matter, as Prowl had discussed it with him, and outlined their proposal to bring medics from Cybertron to Earth. Hot Rod thought it was a good idea, and passed it on to Ultra Magnus, who was finalizing the details. Steeling himself for the coming confrontation, Hot Rod headed for First Aid's quarters.

And the medic's reaction to his appearance was what he expected—wariness. He could feel the uncertainty coming off First Aid as he entered the room.

"I hope this is good news about the proposal I submitted," First Aid said.

"Not exactly," Hot Rod answered. "But Ultra Magnus is working on it."

"That fast?"
"Yeah," Hot Rod said with a smile. "He let me know the pair you recommended, Remedy and Pharma, are interested in coming, the sooner the better. Now for my other news."

"What is it?" First Aid asked.

"Ratchet's request for you to go to Cybertron was approved," Hot Rod said, handing his data pad to the medic.

"How did he sneak it past you?" First Aid said.

"I don't know," Hot Rod said. "It's Rachet, and he has his ways. Maybe he bypassed Prowl and I, and went straight for Optimus, but at least he'd ask before passing on the request."

"Ratchet probably bulled Prime, and got him to bend," First Aid muttered.

Hot Rod let the comment slide. "You can stay here. It's not an order," he said.

"I don't want to go, and Ratchet knows that," First Aid said. "He didn't even ask, he just made the decision for me."

"Aid, that's between you and Ratchet," Hot Rod said. "I'm sorry."

"I know," First Aid said. "Thanks for letting me know about the other medics, though. It's good news."

"Yeah, about that—does Ratchet know?"

"Not yet," First Aid said.

Great, Hot Rod thought. More fun with CMO, but it would likely take weeks before the other medics were ready to come to Earth, so he wouldn't have to worry about it.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do," Hot Rod said.

"I will," First Aid said. "Thanks."

88888

Optimus Prime came online, remembering he was in Iacon, at the medical center. And he felt the presence of another awareness brushing up against his own, almost like a whisper. It was tired, and straightaway it demanded to be fed, the wailing almost more than he could bear.

He sat up, watching Remedy pick up the sparkling, offering an energon line for him to feed.

"I've got it this time, Prime," Remedy said. "I can tell the bonding took, from the look in your optics. It'll get stronger, but I can't tell you by how much. He's yours now, and no changing it. Another day, just to make sure everything's fine, and he can be dismissed. I'll have to online your feeding protocols, and explain a few things, but you'll be good to go. Any questions?"

"No," Optimus said. "Not yet."

"Wait until you get him home, and you'll have plenty," Remedy said. "Jazz wanted me to pass along a message—you need to get to Polyhex as soon as you can. I brought you back online as soon as I could, but I can only deal with the problem in front of me. And don't worry, your bitlet will be safe here. I go off shift in a couple of hours, but Flero's on next, so go."

Optimus caressed the sparkling's helm, walking away.

88888

Ratchet had the med bay to himself, with the exception of Echo, who was in recharge, Prowl and Springer having gone to refuel. He was recalibrating all the medical scanners, busy work, to keep his mind off how well the day wasn't going. He knew Wheeljack was angry with him, because he was shutting him out through their bond, with the exception of the time he'd spent. . .comforting First Aid earlier that afternoon, and the other medic was also trying to shut him out, but without much success.

They'd been bonded less than a year, but Wheeljack was the most proficient at using their bond. Maybe he just understood the quantum mechanics of a bond, or he had better control over his emotions. Either way, the shutting him out was just the current way of letting him know how he was feeling. Before the bond, it was not talking, and Wheeljack could talk when he wanted. And when he walked into the med bay, Ratchet was nearly knocked down by the full brunt of their open bond, and the anger emanating from his bonded's energy field.

"You just had to go and do it, didn't you?" Wheeljack asked, throwing a data pad down in front of Ratchet.

"To what are you referring this time?" Ratchet asked.

"You know damn well," Wheeljack said. ""First Aid isn't going anywhere. He doesn't want to go to Cybertron. Maybe you need to go instead. All you do is work, you hardly spend any time with us anymore."

"As chief medical officer, I have responsibilities," Ratchet said. "As First Aid's immediate superior, it's my duty to make sure he receives the best training possible."

"Ratch, he can get that here," Wheeljack said. "But that's not the point. "You didn't ask him about it, or me—you made the decision for us. Got anything to say for yourself?"

"I'm busy, and you'll wake Echo," Ratchet said.

"I know Hot Spot dropped by," Wheeljack said. "And Hot Rod said he wouldn't do a damn thing if Hot Spot lays a hand on you."

"Nice to know you're worried about my well-being," Ratchet quipped.

"If you want to get yourself thrown through a wall by our mate's angry brother, that's your choice," Wheeljack said. "The situation is of your own making."

"I thought it would be a good opportunity for Aid," Ratchet said, standing, setting down his tools, and picking up the data pad.

"It might be, but he flat-out does not want to go," Wheeljack said. "Like I said, maybe you should go. Work a rotation at the medical center, or run a few patrols with one of the tactical units. You've never done that before. Or I'll go."

"And do what? Where would you stay?"

"Ultra Magnus said they need help in Iacon, doing an engineering study on the tunnels, and they're going to conduct a search for Shockwave's energy stores," he said. "I still have my workshop. It wasn't hurt in Unicron's attack, and I can stay there. Or I bet Skyfire and Perceptor wouldn't mind if I bunk with them."

"Are you that bored here?" Ratchet said.

"No," Wheeljack said. "It's not about being bored. It's about being useful, or content, even happy. Ratch, I thought we were happy. I am, but I don't think you are, or you wouldn't be acting this way."

"Can we finish this later, when I'm off duty?" Ratchet asked.

Wheeljack vented a sigh, turning around, walking out of the med bay.