Millions of Solar Cycles have passed, and with that, memories of the past have been lost.
"Arg! Doctor! Take it easy!"
"If you would stop moving, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much!"
The patient let out another harsh growl. His back arched in an involuntary attempt to move away from what was causing him pain, but he couldn't get very far, as the restraints around his arms and legs held him hostage.
An orange and white medic stood next to the patient, trying to pry out small shards of metal imbedded in his arm. The medic swore under his breath as he detected a leak in his patient's main Energon line, swiftly working to patch it up before the patient bled out.
After the leak was sealed, the medic continued removing the shards. The patient was a mechanic, mainly working in the Energon refinery. A stray sliver of raw Energon had lodged itself into a tool, which promptly exploded and hit the Cybertronian nearby. That Cybertronian was the mech on the operating table, restrained, because the first medic who tried to help him got punched in the face. Not many other medics opted to help him after that. Ratchet volunteered.
Ratchet had difficulty working on a patient that was constantly shifting their position. Ratchet grabbed onto the patient's shoulder, shoving it down to keep the arm still as he quickly reached out and yanked the remaining shards. The patient let out a pain-filled groan. "That fragging hurt!"
"Maybe you shouldn't have refused stasis!" Ratchet countered, wielding up his patient's limb before pressing a few buttons on a nearby console to unlock the restraints. The patient slowly sat up, flexing his arm with a wince. Ratchet picked up a datapad, looking over the information on it before speaking. "You'll be fine. Just don't use that arm for a while."
The patient grumbled something, heaving off of the operating table and walking out of the room without a second glance. Ratchet swiftly recorded the gist of the operation on the datapad before setting it down. After becoming a full-fledged medic, his workload had dramatically increased. Someone had asked if he required an assistant, but Ratchet believed he had it under control. It was just draining.
Ratchet walked out of the room, noting that the hallways were empty, again. The layout of the Protihex Medical Center had barely changed since he had first been stationed there. The only thing that changed was the other medics treatment of Ratchet. His attitude towards others had driven almost everyone away. Only a select few would even try to associate with him.
Someone was trying to uplink him. Ratchet paused momentarily before he accepted the call. "What do you want, Voltlock?"
"Cheerful as ever, I see," Voltlock replied casually, as condescence from Ratchet was a common occurrence. "I have a gladiator patient who's throwing a fit. Can you lend a hand?"
Ratchet rolled his optics, not surprised that Voltlock managed to anger another patient. "Where are you?"
"Sector C, room four-" Voltlock was cut off, and Ratchet could hear something crash. Before Ratchet could respond, he heard Voltlock curse loudly before ending the uplink. Ratchet let out a breath of exasperation as he walked down the halls, heading towards the requested area.
It didn't take long for Ratchet to find the room, as he could pick up the sound of Voltlock and the gladiator trading insults back and forth. Ratchet stepped in, nonchalantly ducking as a buzzsaw flew over his head. The gladiator sat defiantly on an operating table, apparently immobile, as in most cases a tantrum like that would lead to a patient being restrained. The gladiator was almost completely blue, with a few slabs of black metal. Voltlock stood farther back, arms crossed and a frustrated expression on his faceplate.
Voltlock was a dark yellow, with a few parts colored with a hint of orange. His optics were bright blue, and the anger in them quickly toned down when he saw who came into the room. Ratchet walked over to Voltlock, watching the gladiator as he spoke, clearly not impressed. "Alright, Voltlock. What's wrong this time?"
"Dislocated leg, got it in his last fight," Voltlock answered, glaring at the gladiator. "He tried to hit me when I went to pop his limb back into it's socket, but I'm nice enough not to hold a grudge."
The gladiator snorted, and Ratchet spoke up. "What do you need me to do?"
"Fix him," Voltlock replied, glancing at Ratchet with a mixture of seriousness and playfulness. "I'll restrain him, you do what you do best."
Voltlock went behind the gladiator, grabbing his shoulders to hold him back. Ratchet walked over, kneeling in front of the gladiator and switching his forearm into a scanner. It's light traveled over both legs, glowing blue for the right one, and red for the left. Ratchet's forearm switched back, and the medic reached forward to get a grip on the gladiator's left leg. Ratchet looked up at Voltlock, who nodded. Ratchet pushed onto the gladiator's leg, and the gladiator growled loudly as his leg was shoved back into place.
Ratchet watched Voltlock with an optic ridge raised. "You didn't turn off his pain receptors?"
"He wouldn't let me," Voltlock answered. "'Gladiatorial pride' or something."
Ratchet stood up and walked over to a table, taking something off of it before returning to his position beside the gladiator. Ratchet attached multiple slabs of metal onto the gladiator's leg. "Keep this brace on for an Orbital Cycle or two, and don't do any fighting until a medic clears you."
The gladiator rolled his optics, testing out his leg by standing up. He soon decided that he would put more weight on his right leg for a while, after he almost toppled over. He looked to both of the medics, then walked out of the room. Voltlock went next to Ratchet, chuckling. "'You didn't turn off his pain receptors'? I didn't know you cared."
"You saw how he acted without it," Ratchet countered, crossing his arms. "He threw a buzzsaw at my face, and he tried to attack you."
"Hey, I offered, he just refused!" Voltlock smirked, raising his arms in mock-surrender. Even though it was hard to tell, Voltlock really did care about others, but if they decided to do something stupid, he thought that what happened after was their own fault and they should deal with it. The gladiator didn't want a sedative, he wanted to seem like he was tough when there was no one around to prove it to, and Voltlock believed that what the gladiator got was what was coming to him. Ratchet about to respond with an insult of some sort, but someone spoke first.
"Ratchet?" Said mech turned towards the door, where a small, femme medic peered around the corner. "Someone wishes to contact you at the main terminal."
"Who is it?" Ratchet asked, and Voltlock pretended not to listen, even though he was obviously eavesdropping.
"They won't say," The femme replied, shaking her head. "They want to speak with you right away. They said it's important."
Ratchet glanced over to Voltlock, who shrugged in false disinterest. Ratchet looked back to the femme, nodding thanks and dismissal as she walked away. Ratchet started heading out of the room, Voltlock following behind him. Voltlock smirked, his voice laced with mischief. "Oh, Ratchet! Do you have a mate that I don't know about?"
Ratchet snorted. "Hardly. It's probably just a request for medical assistance at the Gladiatorial Arena."
Voltlock chuckled again. "Whatever you say, Ratch'."
Ratchet rolled his optics as he and Voltlock entered another room, filled with tools and devices. It was darker there than in any of the other rooms, because the message system that the medics used required a lot of light, and would be almost impossible to see if there was any other powerful light source around it. In the center of the room, there was a large machine, seemingly lifeless. It was deactivated, as it was not in use. A small blinking light on it's side showed that someone was on the other end of the call.
Ratchet pressed a few sections on a console, the screen glowing green before flashing blue as it started the main terminal. The machine glowed, humming with power. A light above the terminal shone at a random pace before changing into a picture, a life size hologram of someone Ratchet recognized all too well.
"Medic Ratchet," The hologram spoke with a deep voice, and even as a picture made of light, towered over both Ratchet and Voltlock, the former blinking in surprise and the latter taking a step back in shock. They were in the presence of a member from the Guilds of Cybertron.
Voltlock stared. The Guilds of Cybertron never made contact with anyone other than the Council. Unless Ratchet was secretly a Prime, there should have been no reason for them to contact him. Voltlock knew that Ratchet was only a medic, so he continued gaping at who was in front of him.
"You have been summoned to the Guilds of Cybertron," The Guild member continued. "There is a matter that must be discussed immediately."
Before Ratchet could reply, the hologram flickered into nothing and the terminal shut down. Voltlock stared where the hologram was, mouth agape, before his optics darted to Ratchet and he voiced his thoughts. "What?"
"They told me to go to the Guilds of Cybertron," Ratchet repeated, voice just above a whisper in his confusion. He didn't know why the Guilds would want to speak with him.
"No, no, why?" Voltlock restarted, still not getting a grip on himself. He pointed to the terminal, optics still wide. "Why would they call you down there, what did you do?"
"I don't know," Ratchet replied, honestly finding no reason why he should have to go there after the caste system was done with him. Most Cybertronians never saw the Guilds again after they were sorted. Voltlock apparently snapped out of his shock, shaking his head.
Voltlock watched as Ratchet hesitated before his fellow medic headed for the door. Voltlock stepped towards him. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"
Ratchet slowly turned back, staring at Voltlock incredulously. "...What?"
"Did you do something?" Voltlock elaborated, concern clear in his voice. "I won't tell anyone, don't worry. I can help you."
"You..." Ratchet started, but quickly stopped himself. The situation was becoming rather laughable to him. "No. No, I- No, I didn't do anything."
Voltlock looked like he wanted to say something, but instead stepped aside, letting Ratchet go on his way. Ratchet nodded farewell, exiting the room, leaving Voltlock wondering if Ratchet was hiding something important.
Ratchet walked down the hallways of the Medical Center, other medics who passed by paying him no heed. They knew Ratchet was good at what he did, but they didn't always approve of his methods. That was not to say Ratchet abused his patients. He treated them quite well, as long as they stayed on his good side. That went with everyone else as well.
Ratchet exited the building, taking a look around. Cybertronians wandered everywhere, some in groups, others alone, carefree. They were content with their lives. That didn't surprise Ratchet. He didn't know why he even thought about it. Shaking his head, Ratchet started heading for the other side of the Protihex Medical Center. He walked around the building, noticing a large door that looked distinctly out of place.
Ratchet stopped in front of the door, feeling like he recognized it, but he couldn't place where he had seen it before. He let it go, pressing a few areas on an access panel. The door stayed shut for a moment, then slowly opened up with a creak. Ratchet's optics scanned the entrance, seeing that it lead to a tunnel. Ratchet stood in place, silent, before starting into the passage way, the door slamming shut behind him.
The tunnel seemed eeriy familiar, though Ratchet couldn't remember why. The darkness of the passage was only pierced by the slight glow at the other end of it. Ratchet could make out the form of a guard as he approached. The guard only looked at Ratchet, then opened the door he stood in front of. Ratchet raised an optic ridge, but went through anyway. The door closed, and Ratchet stepped inside of a gigantic chamber. He looked up, seeing many pairs of optics watching him.
Ratchet knew that he was in the presence of the Guilds of Cybertron, but he didn't know why he felt like he had been there before. A Guilds member gestured for Ratchet to step forward, and he did so, ending up on a platform.
"Medic Ratchet," The Guild member started, voice stern. "Do you know why we have summoned you?"
Ratchet thought for a moment, then frowned and shook his head. "No, I don't."
The Guilds noted that the medic was much less formal than he as during their last encounter. Ratchet's optics were slightly darker than before, revealing that he had seen horrible things during his time as a medic. The only thing that could have made it worse would be some kind of civil war, though that scenario was unlikely to ever occur.
Another Guild member stepped forward. "You had accepted accountability for an action you preformed, and that action has finally come into effect."
Ratchet still stared blankly at them, unsure of what they meant. He had never gone to trial for anything, so something he had done in the past couldn't possibly affect him later on. At least, he hoped it couldn't.
Ratchet waited for them to continue, but they said nothing, only stepping aside for three other Guild members to walk up to the medic. One of the Guild members was carrying something in their arms, though Ratchet couldn't see what it was. They stopped a few steps away from Ratchet, and another one of the Guild members spoke up. "Many Vorns ago, you prevented an unborn spark's destruction. Doing so, you became directly responsible for the spark's future, should it have became a defect. And it did."
The Guild member shifted the position of their arms slightly, and slowly revealed the small, delicate form of a newborn sparkling.
Ratchet's mouth opened slightly in surprise. He had forgotten about the spark. He didn't know why, though, as it held a great significance to Ratchet's old friend. He pushed Rooter out of his thoughts, and in doing so, he realized why he hadn't remembered the spark earlier. He had made himself forget. The spark made him think of all of the deaths that occurred during the incident at the Energon stockpile. He didn't want to think about death, or losing anyone else, so he blocked those thoughts from resurfacing until a time when they were necessary, and necessary they had become.
Ratchet shook his head, focusing on the situation at hand. The sparkling was in recharge, motionless enough for Ratchet to get a good look at it. It's paint was red and blue, with a small crest on it's forehead. It was smaller than it should have been, even if it was a newborn. It's breathing was labored, a clear sign of a severe virus.
"This sparkling has been assigned the designation 'Orion Pax'. It is the spark you had spared. It rose from the Well a defect, and was placed into a protoform as such. Being a defect, it can not be placed by the caste system into a Guild for training," The member said, tone increasingly displeased. "The Guilds refuse to take charge of a defect, and this defect came to be from you letting it live."
Ratchet waited impatiently for them to finish, though he was starting to get nervous about what they had to say. Primus slaggit, he should have never interfered with the Guilds. Ratchet was told multiple times that an unborn spark will only end up defective, and he just didn't listen, though he had to admit to himself that he didn't understand why. Because of his ignorance, the sparkling in front of him was unlikely to survive.
The Guilds stood together, high and mighty, their final decision made. While still holding the sparkling, a Guild member walked up to Ratchet, stopping within arms reach of the medic.
"Therefor," The Guild member said. "The Guilds of Cybertron hereby declare you this sparkling's caretaker."
Ratchet was tempted to say many things. He wanted to object to their order, explain that he was a medic, he had no time for a sparkling, it wasn't a good idea, but the Guilds had spoken. Their will could only be overruled by the High Council, and they wouldn't bother with a trivial situation like that.
The Guild member stepped forward, holding the sparkling out for the medic to take. Reluctantly, Ratchet slowly reached out and picked up the sparkling, adjusting his position so that he ended up cradling it in his arms. The sparkling weakly struggled, letting out a barely audible whine. It's optics flickered open, and it peered up at Ratchet, tiredly. It's optics were a very light blue, and even though they were obviously the optics of a young and innocent sparkling, they showed the potential of a brilliant mind.
"Until a time when this sparkling is well and able to care for itself," The Guild member continued, glaring down at the defective and the medic who caused it. "You will be it's official guardian. You will give it medical treatment, and train it in the basic teachings of the caste."
Ratchet didn't want to. The sparkling would be a nuisance, he knew it. Ratchet glanced down at the newborn, watching as it looked around the room, studying each of the Guild members faceplates before it gazed up at Ratchet curiously. Ratchet knew that defying the Guilds wasn't an option. He could only nod.
The door behind him suddenly snapped open. The members of the Guilds, satisfied, turned around and began making their way out of the chamber, leaving Ratchet alone with the sparkling resting in his arms. Ratchet watched the Guilds of Cybertron for a moment longer before he felt something tapping him on his chest. He looked down and saw the sparkling staring up at him, waiting for something to happen. Ratchet frowned.
"'Orion Pax', huh?" He said, turning around and heading to the exit as he spoke. Ratchet let out an exasperated breath. "I guess you're coming with me."
The sparkling, Orion, said nothing. Ratchet had never expected it, no, he, to do so. It was normal for a sparkling to be temporarily mute for a few Orbital Cycles, but even he didn't know how long it would take a defective. It was unlikely that Orion would ever be able to walk, and that was if he even survived long enough to try.
Ratchet continued through the tunnel without really paying attention to where he was going. He knew he had walked up and down that passage one too many times for his liking. Orion was enjoying it much more than Ratchet was. He heard metal shifting in the walls, pointing to where the noise was coming from and looking up at Ratchet expectantly. He was obviously curious. Ratchet didn't bother explaining anything to Orion as he reached the other end of the passage.
Ratchet paused, tempted to try and kick the door open, then shook his head as he held Orion in one arm and entered the access code with his free hand. Ratchet failed once, then twice, then a few more times, before he mumbled something under his breath in frustration and finally got the door open.
Ratchet walked out, the sudden amount of light from outside momentarily blinding him. Orion covered his optics, which were seemingly more sensitive than they should have been. Ratchet shifted the sparkling's position, heading towards the main entrance of the Medical Center.
Ratchet walked into the building, no one sending him a second glance. The other medics didn't notice the sparkling, and Orion ducked down slightly into Ratchet's arms. Ratchet walked down the hallways, making his way towards his quarters. He didn't know how he could look after a sparkling. He had nothing he could give. He didn't know what to do.
Before Ratchet could think about it further, Voltlock moved swiftly around the corner, startling Ratchet. Voltlock smirked, patting his fellow medic on the back. "Well, Ratchet, did you and your mate have fun?"
Ratchet frowned, moving out of Voltlock's reach. "You know where I was."
Voltlock's smile disappeared. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Ratchet snapped, glaring at seemingly nothing. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. "I'm fine."
"You sure? Doesn't seem like it," Voltlock chuckled, though he still sounded concerned, before his optics gazed to what Ratchet was holding. Voltlock frowned. "And who's this?"
Ratchet blinked, unsure of who Voltlock was referring to, then he looked down as well. Orion was snuggled comfortably in Ratchet's arms, silently observing the area. He seemed to notice he was being watched, as he looked back up at Ratchet inquisitively.
Even though he loathed to admit it, Ratchet had completely forgotten about the sparkling, even though he was carrying him. Ratchet turned back to Voltlock, his optics clearly showing his annoyance. "His name is Orion."
"Is he one of your patients?" Voltlock asked, crossing his arms and staring at Ratchet disapprovingly.
"... Not exactly," Ratchet said. Voltlock raised an optic ridge, waiting for Ratchet to continue. If Ratchet was going to start cracking jokes, it better have been a good one. Letting out an exasperated breath, Ratchet gave in. "... I'm his caretaker."
Voltlock stared, his expression shifting between outright disbelief and honest curiosity. He said nothing for a while, then to Ratchet's surprise, Voltlock burst out laughing. Ratchet blinked, confused at Voltlock's sudden change in demeanor.
"You? A caretaker?" Voltlock said between chuckles. "You must have lost some bet with the Guilds of Cybertron if they let you look after a sparkling."
Ratchet frowned, glancing down at Orion and shifting the sparkling's position slightly. His voice lowered. "Something like that..."
Voltlock snickered for a few moments longer, then he got a good look at Ratchet's expression and his optics widened in realization. "Wait a Klik, you're serious?"
Ratchet nodded. He watched the sparkling with a hint of kindness for a moment, then almost immediately regained his natural expression. Voltlock suddenly uplinked someone, whispering something that Ratchet couldn't hear. Voltlock ended the uplink, looking over at Ratchet with a blank face.
"We'll talk about this later," Voltlock said, before turning and walking away. Orion watched Voltlock leave, then looked back up at Ratchet in uncertainty. Ratchet grumbled and continued down the hall.
Ratchet walked into the back area of the building, to the Medical Quarters. He stepped up to the door to his quarters and paused for the door to open. It did not, and Ratchet growled as another door decided to delay him. "You have got to be joking."
He tried a few more times, then the door opened with a small click. Ratchet walked into his quarters, quickly taking notice to an extra berth placed on the other side of the room, opposite to his own. The berth was too big for the sparkling, only slightly smaller than Ratchet's. He knew that it was rare, but not unheard of, for a sparkling to be raised by a caretaker instead of a Guild, so there were no smaller berths available.
A small table was set next to the berth, medical tools and devices scattered on top. A spark monitor stood against the wall, ready to be used if needed. Ratchet guessed that Voltlock had called someone to bring them there earlier, as he was the only one who knew that Ratchet was the sparkling's caretaker.
Ratchet gently set Orion on the berth. He took a step back, watching over Orion as the sparkling got a good look at his surroundings. Ratchet frowned. Orion didn't even look defective. He was able to focus on what was going on. The colors on his frame were vibrant. He looked perfectly healthy. Ratchet briefly wondered if the Guilds were playing a trick on him.
Orion looked up at Ratchet expectantly. Ratchet glowered at him, then his forearm shifted into a scanner. "Don't move."
The scanners light washed over the sparkling, moving up and down his frame, it's glow a steady red. Ratchet read over the results, frowning. He grabbed a spherical tool from the table, reaching out to open Orion's hand. Orion shifted away slightly, receiving an annoyed growl from Ratchet.
"Stay still," Ratchet demanded, forcibly placing the device in Orion's hand. The tool lit up, it's glow alternating between green and white at it worked. Orion seemed to notice that it was not a threat, as he relaxed a little more. The device let out a series of buzzes and clicks to signal that it was finished, so Ratchet picked it up and looked over it. Glaring, Ratchet set the tool aside and scanned Orion again, receiving the same results as before. With all of that information gathered, Ratchet was able to make a full assessment of Orion's health.
Orion's temperature was lower than it should have been. Energon was having difficulty running through his veins. The metal that made up his frame was very fragile. His voice box was malfunctioning. His limbs were very weak.
When Ratchet had first found it, Orion's spark had been exposed and unprotected, and once it was placed inside of a protoform, the spark and the frame became connected. That spark was contaminated, and the protoform became so, contaminated, sick, weak.
Defective.
Orion suddenly broke into a series of harsh coughs that wracked his frame. Instinctively, Ratchet knelt down next to the berth and placed a gentle hand on the sparkling's back, carefully caressing up and down. The cough slowly subsided, but it left Orion gasping for a breath.
Orion shivered, his temperature finally registering with his body. Ratchet stood up, sliding open a panel in the wall. He turned up the heating in the room in an attempt to warm Orion up, even just a little. Orion's shaking took a while to stop, and once he was still, he looked up at Ratchet tiredly.
Ratchet slowly moved Orion so the sparkling was laying down on the berth. Before Ratchet let go, Orion latched onto the medic's hand. He gave a warm, yet weak, smile. Ratchet hesitated, then he pulled his hand away, taking a step back and watching Orion with cold optics. He reached to the side, grabbing the spark monitor and setting it to display Orion's vitals.
Ratchet heard the door open behind him, and turned around to see Voltlock standing there, looking extremely stern. He gestured for Ratchet to exit the room, intending to have a serious conversation with his fellow medic. Ratchet glanced back at Orion, who watched him with sincere content.
Ratchet looked at Orion for a moment longer before he turned and walked out of the room, the door shutting behind him. Ratchet was glad that only he and Voltlock were in the hallways. He would be able to speak without anyone overhearing.
"I didn't want to say this in front of the kid," Voltlock started, an annoyed expression on his faceplate. "What the frag are you doing with a sparkling, Ratchet?"
At first, Ratchet didn't reply. He didn't understand, either. If Ratchet was considered the reason Orion was defective, it would have been deemed an indirect act of assault, violence, but the only thing that happened was Orion being given to Ratchet by force. Ratchet assumed that the Guilds of Cybertron just didn't want to get their servos dirty. They didn't want a defective contaminating their caste system, but because they gave their word to let the spark live, they couldn't destroy it. So instead, they left it under Ratchet's care, and Ratchet believed that they expected Orion to die.
"The Guilds..." Ratchet said, hesitating as he spoke. "... We had made a deal. I look after the sparkling if they let it live."
"Wait, wait, wait," Voltlock cut in, crossing his arms. "Restart. Why are you personally looking after a sparkling? Why would the Guilds of Cybertron even think about killing one?"
Ratchet looked down, frowning. "... Do you remember the explosion at the refueling station?"
"Yes. It happened Solar Cycles ago, killed almost everyone there. I hope the piece of scrap that set it off got caught in the blast as well," Voltlock snorted, fists tightening. "Did someone tell you if they did or not?"
Ratchet looked back at Voltlock, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. "I... don't remember."
Voltlock raised an optic ridge. "Of course you don't. Why would you? It's not like you could have seen who did it or anything."
Ratchet's optics were downcast again, glowing deep blue. Voltlock didn't know. Nobody knew. Ratchet never told anyone.
"Rooter and I went to the refueling station to discuss something she found. We saw some Cybertronians fighting over Energon, and one of them tried to shoot the other, but hit the Energon stockpile instead," Ratchet explained, feeling the weight of the event becoming heavier as he spoke. "I was knocked unconscious by the blast. Rooter... didn't make it."
"Oh," Voltlock said quietly, optics wide and arms unfolding to rest limply at his sides. "Oh, slag. I'm sorry, Ratchet."
"It's fine, this doesn't matter anymore," Ratchet replied, not even convincing himself. "It doesn't matter. I just need to make sure you don't tell anyone what I tell you, so don't."
"I won't, I promise," Voltlock nodded, raising his hand for emphasis. He gestured for Ratchet to continue, and Ratchet did so.
"Rooter had found something... that shouldn't have been there," Ratchet said. "I found Rooter's body after the explosion, and she was holding an unborn spark."
Voltlock blinked in surprise. "An unborn spark? No way, they don't exist. They can't exist."
"If you would let me finish," Ratchet threatened, regaining his previous expression. "I showed it to- I brought it to the Guilds of Cybertron, and they agreed to let it live if I am responsible for it."
"That's why the Guilds wanted to see you," Voltlock concluded, ignoring the fact that Ratchet had left something out. If Ratchet didn't want to talk about it, Voltlock wouldn't make him. Voltlock suddenly understood, looking towards the door the sparkling rested behind. "So that means Orion is..."
Ratchet nodded, and ended the conversation there. Voltlock knew, but he wasn't the only one who did. Voltlock was just the only one Ratchet told.
The only ones who knew, besides Voltlock, were the Guilds of Cybertron, and the medic who helped Ratchet get the spark to safety, though that medic was long gone. Motor had suddenly left, and no one knew why. Ratchet occasionally wondered if the Guilds had relocated Motor because of his involvement with the spark, but he believed he would never know for sure. If Motor had become one with the Allspark, then Ratchet only hoped that he found peace, and that he greeted Rooter for him.
Voltlock placed a hand on Ratchet's shoulder, smiling sadly. "He's going to be fine, you'll see."
Voltlock took one last look at the sparkling, and with that, he turned around, walking away from his fellow medic.
Ratchet had to admit, he felt even worse after talking about what had happened. Cybertronians who said that it would heal one's spark if they talked about their problems were full of scrap.
Ratchet turned back around to enter his quarters, but the door didn't respond to his presence. He seethed and he yelled in frustration as another door refused to cooperate with him. "Primus forsaken machine!"
Ratchet was prepared to kick the door down, when it flew open and almost knocked him over. Ratchet growled as he walked in, taking notice to the newborn sparkling recharging quietly on the berth. Ratchet hesitated, staying as silent as he possibly could. His mind went completely blank for a moment, before he relaxed slightly.
Orion's breathing was still labored, which concerned Ratchet more than any of the other symptoms. Ratchet wirelessly connected Orion's spark monitor to his scanner, so he could view the sparkling's vitals when he wasn't there.
With that, Ratchet left the sparkling to rest, heading towards another waiting patient's operating room to get some work done.