A/N: It's a day early because I won't be able to update tomorrow. I have... stuff.. (painting my house a nasty coffee color. EW!)

OH, and thank you all for the favorites and follows! It makes me feel nice and warm inside. (Insert inflating ego as we speak) -Pulles out calculus- please excuse me while I deflate that for us. XD

REVIEWS

Anonymous BW FG: =D He'll live! XD maybe... XD

IBrokeThe4thWall: XD Yep! Poor Blue doesn't know what's coming.

Crankysnapdragon: Well, maybe not for being sick, but I'm sure he'll find another reason! XD

Bluebutterflywitch: That's right. Hand over the precious package! *accepts cute little Prowler* I'm sorry for calling you a monster. You're a very kind person XD You'll have to wait in line to kill them, and believe me, there is a very long line!

Autobotschic: XD You have a life! It just so happens to be stalking your e-mail! Well, as long as your E-mail doesn't mind. I guess that's okay! Jazz doesn't know any better! He's a wild child! XD He was designed to be so cute! It was a clever ploy so nobody would notice what those bad bots did! I don't think you could beat a pissed off Blue. Nobody can!

Bluestreak groaned as he rolled over on the berth the nurse had left him on. Ratchet was supposed to be coming in any astroklik, but he had yet to show up, and at this point, Bluestreak was having a tough time staying awake. All he wanted to do was pass out on the berth, and recharge like it was nobody's business!

Unfortunately, Bluestreak did pass out like it was nobody's business. He fell right into recharge like it was a huge hole filled with all the softest materials.

Ratchet sighed as he glared at blue and red Praxian. "I was free until you walked in. I have another appointment."

Smokescreen blocked Ratchet's way. "Come on, Ratchet, you know what I'm here for."

"Something I already gave to you." Ratchet glared. "I'm warning you right now. I'm not loaning you anymore credits. You already owe me a lot."

"Rat-"

"I have a question for you, Smokescreen. Why do you think I can help you?"

"You used to be part of them!"

"Key words: used to. I quit." Ratchet glared.

Smokescreen glared at the big white and red mech. "You don't just quit!"

Ratchet shook his helm and stood up. "Yeah, well, I did. Your best bet is to join them, and pay off your debt."

"But…" Smokescreen's door wing's drooped. "I can't do that."

"Then you're slagged." Ratchet stood up, and pointed to the door. "Out."

Smokescreen looked away from Ratchet, and dragged his pedes out the door. "Thanks." He mumbled as he walked right out of the clinic.

Ratchet sighed as he shook his helm. "Trouble maker. Now, Room 3." Ratchet turned back down the hall. He quickly looked himself over before he walked in.

Ratchet frowned when he spotted the familiar gray and red frame. "Bluestreak?"

The form stayed curled up on the berth. Ratchet quickly had the door shut itself, as he began pulling wires out and plugging them into the overheated Praxian frame. "Bluestreak, wake up. I need to reach a port, and I can't get to it unless you move."

Bluestreak didn't move. "Slag." Ratchet activated his comm. system. The face of a mech came up on the screen. "I need help re-positioning a patient."

"On my way." The communication shut off.

Ratchet went back to work. He plugged in as many cords as he could reach. He immediately began a preliminary diagnostic as the mech walked in. "I need him on his back. Be careful of the door wings."

The mech nodded as began the process of straightening out the joints.

Ratchet typed on the console as the information immediately began coming through. He was in stasis. Bluestreak's cooling fans weren't kicking on like they were supposed to be. His virus defenses were down. That was a problem.

"Finished." The mech nodded to Ratchet as he left.

Ratchet grabbed the last cord, and plugged it into the port closest to Bluestreak's spark. He looked over the preliminary data, and began the full diagnostic.

Ratchet sat down at his desk, and waited for the flood of information to come in. At first, there were no anomalies. Everything was normal, except for the cooling fans, and virus defenses. Then the diagnostic came close to finishing.

Red flags went up.

There was a virus in the Voice capacitor. Ratchet immediately went to work. He quickly set up the coding to quarantine the virus. He quickly applied the code, and waited to see if the barrier would hold.

It didn't.

Ratchet went back to work, pulling up more coding. Working in coding of his own making, but no matter what he tried the virus broke out. "Frag it!" Ratchet threw his fist onto the desk. "Maybe if I can get his defenses back up and running. I won't have to bother with the quarantine."

Ratchet changed to a different set of code, and started going through it. "There." Ratchet fixed the coding, and quickly changed to find the virus. He let out a sigh as the virus's coding slowly disappeared. "That was uncomfortably close."

Ratchet stood up, and started unplugging the diagnostic cords. The other cords would stay to watch the vitals.

Jazz glared from across the room at the black and white youngling. He was stupid. Nobody told the Jazz bot what to do! Well, his creators did, but that was all! Nobody else! Especially not a meanie!

Jazz watched Prowl stand up, with the broken data pad. The small bot ran up to Jazz's carrier, and asked her for something. The femme frowned, and shook her helm. Prowl simply nodded before walking away.

Jazz stomped up to his Carrier, and stared up at her. "Ya not allowed to talk to him."

Serenade stared down at Jazz, and sent a glare. "Jazz, you broke something precious to him. And I'll talk to whoever I please. I tell you what to do, not the other way around."

"Well ah hate him!" Jazz yelled.

Serenade bent down next to Jazz. "That is mean, Jazz. I thought I raised you well, but look where we are. Prowl didn't do anything to you, and you're over here yelling about how much you hate him. If anything Prowl should hate you. You're the one who broke his favorite data pad."

"He was being mean first! Telling me what to do!"

Serenade shook her helm. "I'm disappointed, Jazz."

Jazz's lips frowned downwards as energon tears started to flow down.

"Jazz, don't cry." Serenade pulled him into a hug. "It's okay. You can always redeem yourself."

"How do I do that?" Jazz hiccupped.

"You just have to apologize to Prowl. Try to make it up to him. Prowl doesn't really know how to talk to other younglings. When he yelled at you, he thought you might get hurt, so he told you stop what you were doing. He wasn't being bossy, or annoyed, he was just worried."

"Why was he worried about me?"

Serenade smiled. "He's a kind bot, that's why. He'll grow up, and I bet he'll have bots all around him who will misunderstand what he's doing, but he's going to need a friend who understands him. Will you be his very best friend, for me?"

Jazz frowned. "Can we start off slow?"

Serenade laughed. "Yeah. Besides it takes time be a bot's very best friend."

Jazz nodded. "Okay."

"He's trying to fix his data pad, but the thing is fried. There's no fixing it."

Jazz frowned as he walked off towards the small bot.

Ratchet glared at the bot. The virus wouldn't have gotten that bad, if he had just watched for the warning signs. He shouldn't have let them continue.

Bluestreak groaned as he onlined his optics. "Ratchet. Hi. How are you? Are you good? Hmm. Strange. I was feeling pretty bad, but I think I'm okay now. I'm kind of hungry. I haven't had anything since yesterday at mid orn, but I wasn't really hungry until now. This morning just the scent of energon made me sick to my tanks. I woke up on the ground for some reason. Wh-"

"Bluestreak, you're going to have to control the talking." Ratchet glared. "I fixed the virus. It's out of your system, but it took out your voice capacitor. It's going to be hard for you to control your voice, so it may go in and out for a while."

"Ratchet, I can't stop talking. I don't know why, but I just wanna talk, and talk and talk and talk and T-"

"Alright! I get it! Frag it." Ratchet walked behind Bluestreak. "I need you to open up your neck panel." The panel popped open, and Ratchet looked things over. "I'm going to plug a sync cord in. Ratchet grabbed a cord, and plugged it in, before walking over to his computer, and looking over the data. "Did you have voice problems as a kid?"

"Yeah, I used to talk so much my voice box would glitch, but then-"

"I think the virus deleted whatever the doctor did to fix it. It's an easy fix. I'm going to go ahead, and upload the code for you. Don't answer me."

Bluestreak nodded. Ratchet smirked as he uploaded the code. "There, now try."

"I don't have anything to say now. You can't just put me under pressure like that."

Ratchet nodded. "Good. It worked." He quickly grabbed a wrench and violently hit Bluestreak over the helm. "What the frag were you thinking? Leaving that virus to have it's way with you for so long!" He gave Bluestreak another smack. "I might as well offline you now!"

"Ow!" Bluestreak rubbed his helm. "I didn't mean to! I'm not very good at knowing when I'm sick or not! I was upset last night, so I thought I was just too upset, and it was affecting my mood."

"This has been going on far longer than just last night! That virus had your whole defense system down!"

Bluestreak winced. "The last doctor I went to said he got rid of it."

"What doctor, I might as well beat the slag out of him too while I'm at it!"

"He's an underground doctor."

Ratchet glared at Bluestreak. "Those guys aren't even real doctors! What the frag is your problem?"

"I didn't have enough credits for both of us a real doctor! It was the orn after my first youngling came to stay with me, and I had a sitter watching him, so I went to one of the underground doctors to fix it. He said he did, and I didn't feel any of the symptoms, so I thought it was gone!"

Ratchet sighed. "Fragging idiot. All he did was get rid of the symptoms, not the virus! Get out you're done. You're lucky I like you. Go home. Get some rest, you should be good by tomorrow. I want to see you and Prowl back here on your scheduled day! Do you understand?"

Bluestreak nodded. Ratchet shook his helm. "Don't worry about paying. You're a friend."

Bluestreak jumped. "But I-"

"I don't care, I won't let you pay, so get out of here!" Ratchet pointed at the door with his wrench, and shook his helm as the bot scrambled out the door. "Idiot."

Prowl jumped when Jazz got in his face. "Sorry." Jazz mumbled. "I thought you were yelling at me this morning just to be mean. I didn't know you were worried."

Prowl looked down at the ground. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Yelling."

"Well, I have more to apologize for than you! I'm sorry for the data pad too. I didn't know it was your favorite."

Prowl pulled out a new data pad. "Sign?"

Jazz stared at the data pad. The word came out like a question this time instead of an order. "Yeah. I'll sign. Why do you want bots to sign it anyways?"

"I like them. All of them are different, and pretty."

Jazz jumped. That was the most he had heard the bot say, besides that morning with the weird rambling. "What's with the percentages?"

"They happen. I get nervous, and they won't stop." Prowl watched Jazz sign the data pad.

Jazz smiled as he passed the data pad back to Prowl. "I can help ya get more signatures!"

"I want to get them myself."

Jazz sighed. "Oh, okay. I'm really sorry,"

"It's okay. I already knew you'd do it." Prowl walked over to Serenade, and offered the data pad to her. She smiled as she signed it.

Jazz watched from a distance. "Weird Mech. I like him." Jazz smiled as Prowl walked back over to him.