A/N: I forgot to mention at the start of the story. The original idea of CCG is not my creation. I have taken the concept, morphed it and expanded the scientific founding for it, though keeping the name and base concept the same. Forgive me for forgetting to mention that earlier. I meant no harm.

Two months passed before any substantial event came to pass. June poured tirelessly over the datapads Ratchet had provided her with. They were filled with information on medical engineering, cybertronian technology and anatomy, previous research on CCG and Ratchet's own medical reports. It was heavy reading and often frustratingly confusing, but June fought through it, spending ever day off with the medic, questioning him and aiding in everyday work. He'd begun shaking beyond his exhaustion, symptoms appearing despite his state of spark.

Beyond physical aspects, Ratchet remained the same mech he'd always been: cranky, ill-tempered and unwilling to show any true concern for his condition. Though, his aim with wrenches had decreased somewhat, much to his companion's relief. There were days when the mech's depression seeped through his armored platting, turning the air about him dismal and his dedication to ash, though only ever in the security of his medbay or in the dark of his quarters. Due to the current situation on the front lines, stress was high and Ratchet's ailment progressed more quickly than had been expected. Their estimations had been reduced to a single year.

Optimus announced a private meeting with Agent Fowler the day after his discussion with June and the Agent agreed to help them where he could, petitioning for more supplies and easing every burden he could. It had been a taxing two months for the mech and those surrounding him.

"Optimus!" The shout echoed across the main room, shaking some of the more fragile equipment. The red and blue mech turned to face the address. "The scanners have detected an energon signal near a small town in Iowa, just on the perimeter." Prime strode to join the medic at the computer console, the others not far behind him.

"Moving?" Ratchet shook his head.

"No sign of movement. The signal simply appeared. I don't know why the scanners weren't picking it up before hand." The mech scratched his head, "It's worth investigating but be careful, it may be a trap." Optimus nodded, signaling the three younger bots at his back to follow to the ground bridge.

"You will be alright, Old Friend?" Optimus paused, calling over his shoulder. Arcee and Bulkhead exchanged curious looks. Bumblebee shrugged between them.

"It's just ground bridge duty, Optimus," Ratchet sighed, annoyance lacing his voice. Prime simply nodded, stepping through the open ground bridge. Ratchet sighed the moment his companions disappeared, allowing his shoulders to slump. With a grunt, he pulled himself into an Autobot sized chair, close enough to still watch the monitors while resting his sore pedes. The monitors beeped steadily, displaying his teammate's location as well as the faintly pulsing energon spike. The monotony and warm air began to force his optics closed and his processor into recharge.

Ratchet's helm snapped up as he pried his optics open, realizing he'd fallen into recharge. With a quick glance up he sighed in relief. He'd only dozed off for a few minutes. Optimus' troops had yet to reach the edge of the town. The medic stood, deciding to busy himself instead. Pulling up a window beside the previous one, he began logging data from previous outings, and typing up overdue reports to the government. He rubbed the back of his finial tenderly, an ache had built up in his processor over the previous week, peaking everyday soon after noon, though this solar cycle seemed to be the worst yet. His optics grew fuzzy, and he took a swaying step back, realizing, as he felt his legs give way under him, that something was drastically wrong. A sharp pain rang through his helm as he fell, a horrible screeching surrounding in his audios. Eventually, the shaking died down and reality seeped away.

As darkness snuffed out all consciousness, an echo of sound penetrated its walls. And while it could not pull him back, the familiar voice was soothing. At least, if need be, someone would be present to manage the ground bridge.

Previously

School had been longer than seemed possible, dragging on at every turn. Miko slumped in her chair, prepared to bang her head soundly on her desk when a note appeared in her lap. She glanced at the girl next to her who shrugged and pointed across the room. Rafael sat at the end of her gaze, looking as if he'd never stopped his furious note taking. Sighing, she pried the paper open, unsurprised at the short, coded message. Bots on lead. No pick up. Bike? She tapped twice on her desk, making sure the sound was loud enough for him to hear. He nodded silently, just enough for the foreign exchange student to see, marking that he understood.

Miko sighed, looks liked they'd be biking today, again. After many days spent waiting outside the school for their companions, Raf had suggested to Bumblebee that he text him if they were going to be late or couldn't make the pick up at all. Jack often had work after school, so it rarely affected him, but the Autobots' side trips, though necessary, had proved to be quite a nuisance to the other two children. They'd made it a habit to stow bikes behind the school, just in case.

Lost in thought, Miko hardly acknowledged the release bell signaling the end to that week's structured torture session. Raf stood patiently in front of her desk, backpack slung loosely over his slight shoulder, as she collected her things. They walked silently together to the back of the school, unable to openly discuss the Autobots in public.

The bike ride through the Nevada desert was long and grueling; the heat was not something to be taken lightly and with Rafael's recently healed leg, the trip was made even longer. As fall drew to its end and winter encroached upon the land, the temperature remained remarkably warm, as summer had long ago evaporated all of the desert's moisture.

"Hey, Raf!" Miko huffed between peddling, "did you see the stunt me and Bulk pulled Saturday?"

Raf sighed, "Yes, Miko. You've showed both Jack and I the video you took at least three times." He had to nearly shout over the worrying clunking noise his bike was making.

"But you have to agree, that jump was sweet!" Raf just shook his head as Miko pumped her fists until her bike almost toppled in a rough ditch. She caught herself, awkwardly smiling, face a gentle red.

"I don't think I've ever seen Optimus so peeved at one of us." Miko swatted at the air as if to brush away his comment.

"Forget Optimus," She grinned childishly, "Did you see Ratchet's face when he saw the dent in Bulk's door. I'm pretty sure that he left with more dents than he came in with."

"Careful Miko," Raf chided, still giving the occasional worried glance to his out of kilter bike, "I've seen Ratchet hit a bot square on the head with a wrench from across the base. He'd have no qualms with squashing you."

She gave him an almost disgusted look, "Optimus wouldn't let him." Raf shrugged, it was her funeral, "Speaking of the Doc-Bot, has he seemed grumpier to you lately?"

"Bee was saying the same thing," Raf mussed almost to himself, "He also said he'd been looking like he doesn't feel so well." Yet again, Miko simply shrugged off the notion.

"Maybe he's just turning into a grumpy old Mech," She snorted, "I mean he's like, what, ancient."

"Mm, maybe," Raf hummed. Suddenly his bike sputtered, the chains grinding loudly against the gears, having finally snapped. Raf bent over the spokes, lifting the snapped chain from the dirt. "Speaking of Ratch, looks like he'll be fixing this again."

"What is this, the third time this month," Miko called as she circled the boy, "Dude you need a new bike." Raf simply shrugged, standing to begin the mile trek back to base.

"Yo, Docbot!" Miko called the moment the doors had opened, "Raf's bike broke down again. Your weld on the chain died!" Raf flinched, ready for the resulting rebuttal. None came. Miko cocked her head, "Ratchet?" Both children shrugged, leaning their bikes t the wall. Their small footsteps were surprisingly loud in the all-to-quiet base. As they rounded the entrance bay corner, a glint of white came into view.

Both children had seen an unconscious Autobot before but the sight of Ratchet's crumpled form caused both to seize up, feet gluing to the ground. His limbs were splayed out awkwardly, one arm pinned beneath his torso, the point of his chevron holding his head at an odd angel. Energon leaked from a dent in the side of his helm. A small puddle had formed beneath his cheek, covering his face in glowing blue.

Suddenly Miko snapped out her daze, pulling Raf with her. "Raf!" She called, already half way to the fallen bot, "See if you can get Optimus' comm.. I'll try to wake him up." Raf nodded, already connecting his computer to the massive mainframe. The connection was almost instantaneous.

"Ratchet," Optimus' voice boomed over the connection, "The signal was a decoy but for what purpose we are unsure, we are on our way back."

"Optimus!" Raf nearly shouted, "Its Raf."

"Rafael?"

"Ratchet's unconscious, what are your coordinates so I can bridge you back," Numbers scrolled across the main screen as Optimus transmitted the needed data.

"What is his status?" The Prime's voice remained as steady as ever but his worry shown through.

"I think he hit his head. He's bleeding, but otherwise looks okay." Raf glanced over the railing at the limp cybertronian.

"Do not touch the energon. We will be there in a moment." As he spoke the ground bridge activated, spreading brilliant light about the room. The thunderous sound of Optimus' engine echoed through the base, followed by three much quieter bots. The moment the largest of the bots was free of the ground bridge, he pulled himself up into his bipedal from. He was instantly at the medic's side, Raf following closely above.

"Do you think he's taking Synth-En again?" Rafael asked, keeping close to Optimus. Miko pulled herself up into Bulkhead's hand as he beckoned her away from the prone bot.

"I doubt that, Rafael." Optimus carefully rolled Ratchet to his back, mindful of the fracture in his helm. With care betraying of his size, the Prime clicked open a panel in Ratchet's right forearm. The medical access cable uncoiled easily as Optimus attached it to his own systems. After a moment of silence, spent watching Ratchet's flickering medical panel and Optimus' half shuttered optics, Prime disconnected the access cable from his arm. Both bots and children stared expectantly, almost expecting the medic to come-to.

"It was only a simple processor glitch. I've over-ridden the problem and he should reboot on his own soon." The Autobot slid his arms under Ratchet's neck and knee joint, hoisting him to his chest. "Arcee," He called, already turning to carry the limp medic to the medbay. "You're in charge until I return." She nodded.

The medbay was too silent. As gently as he could, Optimus placed his fallen companion on a medical berth. Sighing he pulled over a mobile monitor and began hooking the cables to Ratchet's frame. At some point in the war, when they're troops had dwindled to dangerously low levels, the last of the Autobot medics had taken it upon himself to teach the others standard first aid procedures. Optimus had received the most education, as he was the only one that knew of Ratchet's looming illness. When all monitors were beeping in the appropriate cadences, Optimus pulled up a stool, crouching next to the limp bot. He took his hand in his own.

"And so it begins," He muttered, pressing the limp hand to his cheek. He sat still for a long while, listening to the beeping machines and relishing in the warmth of Ratchet's hand against his check. His eldest friend was dying, and there was nothing he could do but watch.

Eventually Optimus was forced to leave his companion's side, knowing those outside would not only be anxious and worried but curious as well. Silently, he stole himself, standing as straight as his weary form would let him and moving his face plates into what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The look nearly dissipated when he was his fellow soldiers. Each was huddled about the human they guarded, their sides touching the plating of the bot next to them and their optics turned down. No words were shared amongst them despite the overwhelming silence. Even if they did not know the cause of their companion's collapse it was clear each knew the gravity of the situation.

The heavy fall of Prime's tread startled the smallest of the cybertronians. Arcee glanced up, forlorn optics meeting her leader's weary ones. She nudged both Bulkhead and Bumblebee who made to stand before he was waved back down.

"How is he?" Bulkhead asked, a hand at Miko's back as she sat slumped in his lap.

"In stasis, but recovering." The two nodded, Bumblebee glancing down in an almost guilty manner. "Until then, I believe I owe each of you an explanation, if you're willing to listen." In a rare display, Optimus joined them on the floor. He pushed air through his vents, attempting to calm himself. Prime had faced millennia of battles but informing his friends, his family, that one of their own was dying was much harder than dodging any cannon blast.

His optics opened as the sound of the proximity alert sounded. Optimus pressed a hand to his finial, activating his internal comm.. Instantly an image of a rusted white car appeared on the main view screen. Optimus gave a relieved sigh. June. The main bay doors opened and the human drove in, exiting her car.

"Jack called," She explained, yanking her shirt down to its proper place, "Said Ratchet collapsed?" Optimus nodded.

"June," He acknowledged, "Would you take the children and explain the situation to them. I wish to speak to my troops." She nodded, beckoning them over. Placing her check to Bulkhead's hand, Miko sighed before climbing off his lap, the other two following closely behind. Once they had rounded the corner and were out of view, Optimus turned back to the younger cybertronians.

"What do you know of CCG?" Bumblebee looked about, confused as the other two bots' expressions grew grave.

Finally Arcee spoke, "Chronic Circuit Glitch. It's an invasive genetic glitch that corrupts circuitry over stellar cycles." Optimus nodded, encouraging her to continue. She gave a slight tremble, "There is no known cure and it is ultimately fatal." Bumblebee whined, pushing his side further against Arcee's. He was frightened; Ratchet was like a sire to the young orphan. The two wheeler simply patted the younger's knee, understanding his concern.

"Ratchet has known since his creators' deaths that there was a possibility of him inheriting the glitch. It showed up two years ago." Bulkhead glanced wearily down the hallway corridor, knowing Miko and the other children were receiving the same explanation from June.

"Why didn't he tell us?" The wrecker's voice was soft despite the harsh tone.

"We did not wish to worry you. It was Ratchet's decision to keep this from you until the information became necessary." Bulkhead glowered, opening his mouth to protest before Optimus cut him off, "I understand your frustration, Bulkhead, but I ask that you do not guilt him for doing so, and to respect his decision. He is under a great amount of stress as it is." They nodded, understanding. It was evident that each had an insurmountable number of questions but was unsure how to address them. The silence was overwhelming as each bot was caught in their own thoughts. Arcee bowed her head as Bumblebee wiggled his way further into her side, not knowing how else to cope. Optimus would not have been surprised if the scout decided to sit in Bulkhead's lap. The wrecker, however, seemed occupied with clenching and unclenching his fists, his anger at the situation evident.

Finally the silence was broken as Bumblebee gave a clipped whirr, How long?

Optimus was almost surprised at the normally tentative scout's curtness. "We estimate a single stellar cycle before the damage becomes irreversible and roughly two before, if we do not find a cure, deactivation." His bluntness was not meant to be harsh, but it was difficult to forget that the bots before him were soldiers, despite knowing they were so much more.

"Only two stellar cycles?!" Arcee nearly jumped up from her spot on the floor, "I thought that CCG took millennia to fully develop, not four stellar cycles."

Optimus nodded, seeming to sap the anger and frustration from the two wheeler. "Under normal circumstances this is correct. However, under the stress of war, a short supply of energon and age, the glitch has progressed faster than we'd have hoped. Also, Ratchet is convinced that the synthetic energon has furthered its progression." All Arcee could do was nod. The incident with Synth-En was always heavy on Ratchet's conscious, as he'd been known to drink in the past but had prided himself on both kicking the habit and steering clear of drug addictions. Now he could say neither, as the modified Energon had acted as a form of high-grade and was a highly addictive substance. He'd struggled to remain clean for many months after the initial dose, even going into withdrawal for a short while after his confrontation with Megatron and subsequent injury. There had been on night that Arcee along with Bumblebee had found the medic thrashing about on his berth, incohesive and glitching. The medi-bot had been tentative about testing the substance since.

"There anything we can do?" Bulkhead, ever the gentle mech, despite his menacing size, questioned. Optimus shook his head.

"There is little to do but wait, and hope." Optimus addressed his troops solemnly. "Ratchet has been working on a cure for some time but has come up inconclusive, though June and Fowler have been aiding him. The best we can do for now is to allow him to work in peace and help him where he asks for it. However," The Prime's voice grew harsher, more demanding, "Ratchet is a proud mech, he will be insulted if we were to offer help when he has not asked for it, so unless he does or is in genuine distress, refrain." All bots nodded fiercely. "If you have any further questions-"

"You'll talk to me." All optics turned, meeting the narrowed ones of the now conscious medic. In the silence left by his appearance Ratchet stalked over the huddled group, using any available surface for support. By the scrunching of his face plate, it was evident that his processor was throbbing and his movements displayed his weariness. However, none questioned the wisdom of being out of berth, for after years of being of the same team, all the Autobots were well accustomed to Ratchet's famous temper tantrums. By the time the Autobots had managed to pull the worried looks from their faces, Ratchet had limped his way over to join them on the floor, using the wall as support. His joints creaked worryingly as he sat, his legs finally giving, forcing him to fall the rest of the way to the floor. The resounding crash was deafening, but the silence that followed was just as painful. No one dared speak and after a moment Ratchet seemed to grow annoyed.

"Well?!" He boomed, his voice filled with static, "I know you're all just itching to ask me if I'm okay, so just get it over with." The others were almost taken aback by his harsh tone.

"Ratchet," Bulkhead breathed, the distress in his voice clear. Instantly, the medic's shoulders sagged, his expression softening.

"Sorry," He mumbled. Arcee paced a small hand on his shoulder. He simply met her optics and nodded, understanding her unspoken comfort. With a grunt, Ratchet stretched his legs, popping joints and cables. "If I'm going to feel like this constantly," he joked lightly, "I'm going to need a cane."

"I can make you one," Bulkhead piped up, obviously eager to be able to help. Ratchet couldn't help but laugh, his mirth surprising his companions.

"That would be kind of you, Bulk."

Bumblebee whirred almost happily, Anything else we can do? Ratchet nodded, holding out a hand to the young bot.

"You can help me up. Don't know why I sat down in the first place," He grumbled, "I need to go speak to the humans." The scout hopped up, pulling Ratchet with him. Making his way across the room, the medic shook his helper off to stand on his own. He waved absently over his shoulder as he disappeared about the corner. The halls seemed longer than normal when his legs refused to cooperate, suddenly making him wish he had not shooed off his support. The door to the side room that Ratchet knew the humans to be in was open but a crack. Pushing it open silently he simply observed for a moment. The situation was a familiar one. The children were huddled about June, eyes turned down as they listened to her grave prognosis. Rafael was grasping Miko's hand like it was his only lifeline while Jack leaned into her as she wormed her way further into his lap. It was in moments like this that Ratchet remembered that these beings before him were mere children, hardly infants in comparison to his age. June looked up, feeling his gaze upon her, and caught his optic. She smiled at his unsure expression, beckoning him in. The children brightened as well, following June's gaze to the limping mech.

"How are you feeling?" June asked before Ratchet had even a chance to sit.

"Hmmm," Ratchet grumbled, crashing to the floor once again, "My processor feels like scrap and my knees and pedes have seen better days." He bent his knees allowing them to creak as if to make a point. "But a good recharge and I'll be alright."

Though the statement did not help her companions, Miko's mood brightened. She shook off Raf's hand and sat up. "You goin' to find a cure, Doc-Bot?" Ratchet couldn't help but grin.

"June and I are doing our best." June nodded, smiling up at her cybertronian companion.

"Are you going to get all twitch and wiggly?" Miko shouted up.

"Miko!" Jack slapped her shoulder chastisingly.

"What? I'm just asking." Ratchet waved their concerns for his emotions away, having expected the Japanese girl's brashness.

"No, no, it's alright to be curious," Miko stuck her tongue out at Jack, "And in a way, Miko, yes. My motor functions will decrease and I will lose partial control over my movements. So in a way, I will be 'twitchy', though I don't know about wiggly." He chuckled, a rare event.

"June said memory loss is a symptom," Raf voiced, regaining some confidence, "Are you just going to forget us?" Ratchet considered his words carefully.

"My Sire could hardly remember his own name by the time he deactivated," The children's gaze fell, "My carrier, however, was not effected so. I've already had one seizure, which suggests I've received mostly my mother's side of the glitch. So, if my theory holds out, no, I won't be forgetting you fleshlings any time soon."

The children's eyes widened. "Seizure," Jack chocked out. Ratchet raised an optic brow at June.

"I hadn't gotten there yet," June said sheepishly, giving him a small grin. Ratchet shook his head, having assumed that June has finished explaining the glitch.

"Ah," He breathed, "Oops." He cycled air to clear some of the sensory glitches in his chest plates. The air was cooling and pleasant on his too hot plating. "There is no human equivalent for CCG," Ratchet began, "Though the closest ailment would be a brain tumor. The glitch slowly expands in coding and corrupts the circuitry around it."

Miko nodded, yet again holding Raf's hand, "That's what June said it did."

"Tell me what you do know." Ratchet folded his hands in his lap, patiently listening. It was rare that he was willing to sit and discuss personal matters but he forced himself to enter the medic's mindset he'd grown accustom to throughout his career. This Ratchet was temperamental yet gentler and more tolerant. He was willing to answer questions and take the time to make sure his patients understood everything they needed to. Only this time he was explaining to his patient's family instead.

"You have CCG, or Chronic Circuit Glitch." Raf began, fiddling with his hands, "It's a genetic disorder that corrupts the circuitry in the processor and body causing system failures, circuitry miss fire, memory loss and pain. Also there is no cure."

"Yet," Miko added helpfully. Ratchet nodded.

"But Ratch," The youngest human gazed up apprehensively at the towering bot, "If untreated, brain tumors are fatal," He allowed his question to hang, as if finishing would make the prognosis final.

"As is CCG," Ratchet sighed. Despite his distaste for everything Miko, the Autobot found he had an exceptionally difficult time watching tears well up in her gaze. It was obvious none had assumed this, instead choosing to believe the glitch was a lifelong nuance.

"You aren't going to die on us, are you, Doc-Bot?"

"I have no intention of deactivating just yet," Ratchet forced a smile to be as sincere as his old faceplate could manage. "And even without a cure I have a few years yet."

"Years?!" Miko almost shouted, "I thought this thing was a swift death. You know, like a few months, not years."

"Miko," Ratchet had to work to keep the condescension out of his voice, "I am over ten million earth years old, older than your entire race. Two years is an insignificant amount of time."

"Dang, Ratch," It was Jack's turn to tease, "I knew you were old but that's ancient." The medic simply glared as all three children laughed. Even June could not keep back a snicker. As the humor passed, the atmosphere settled back into silence, the gravity of the situation falling like dust upon the worn bunker floor. Tired and stiff, the medic decided it was time to end the conversation.

"Miko," His tone was mirthful and almost taunting, "Bulkhead has assigned himself the duty of making me a cane and I'm sure he would love your help." Miko's face stretched into an ear to ear grin. The girl leapt to her feet, leaning forward on the balls of her feet and stretching her arms back as she commonly did.

"Bulk and I are going to make you the best old man walking stick ever." Ratchet only smiled ever so slightly, his optics betraying his amusement and weariness. Miko began to run off in search of her guardian but halted at the door. Walking silently back she gazed up at the medic before wrapping her small arms about the base of his pede. Ratchet startled, not expecting the display of affection. Normally he would have shaken the human off but he could not find the malice to do so. Instead he simply allowed her to be, watching in bewilderment as the other two children joined her.

Finally, Miko glanced up, backing away from the warm metal plating of his pede. Her eyes were more serious than he'd ever seen them. "You work hard on that cure, okay? The bots still need a medic." Ratchet nodded, his head moving automatically. Miko wasn't satisfied. "Okay?" She asked again, more forcefully. "Promise?"

Ratchet stared for a moment, glancing at June who simply sat smiling before returning Miko's fierce gaze, though in a more mocking manner. "Okay," He breathed, "I promise." With that, all three children raced out of the room to join their companions in the main bay, leaving Ratchet with June.

The nurse smiled sweetly at her Autobot friend, relieved that his recent depression seemed to have vanished for the moment. "They're very worried," Ratchet nodded, humming in acknowledgment, "They really like you. You do understand that, Right?" The bot allowed a smile to creep onto his face plates.

"I too am fond of them," He admitted, "No matter how annoying they may be." His companion chuckled. "June?"

"Hmm?"

"Could you fetch Optimus for me?" The nurse chocked her head.

"Sure. Is something wrong?" The bot shook his head at her inquiry.

"I'm not sure I can get up."

Miko sat, her legs crossed under her, watching Bulkhead bend and twist scraps of metal, his large hands strangely delicate in their manipulations. What was once simple scrap metal now resembled a perfectly crafted Autobot sized cane, the top of it curved over and the base flared to add support. The seams where sheets overlaid one and other had been smoothed down. The whole thing was elegant, really, coated in a thin layer of welding copper which glimmered different colors in the light. The strip of red copper winding about the body of the cane, forming intricate designs had been Miko's idea, one she was rather proud of. Bulkhead intended to paint the base of it white in order to bring out the beauty of the undulating tones of red and yellow copper.

Taking up the blow torch at his side, the bot began coating the metal in flames, lightening the tint of the copper and soldering welds, while his companion fashioned another delicate piece of the design together. Miko had never been very proficient at metal working but after two weeks of relentless practice, determined to create a master piece, she considered herself fairly skilled. Both she and the Autobot found some form of comfort in the monotonous work. It was an enjoyable change from her normally overactive life. And as an added bonus, it kept her out of the medic's plating. He'd certainly found it a pleasant change.

Bulkhead turned the glimmering metal about in his hands, admiring his work. "Doc's going to love this." He was very proud of himself, feeling useful for once.

"How's it coming?" Bulkhead shrieked at the voice, quickly shoving his creation under his chest plates to hide it. Arcee strode over, placing a hand on the wrecker's shoulder, smirking.

"Shift down a few gears, Bulk," She teased, "He's still recharging."

"That fall got him good, huh?" The two-wheeler nodded, a wry smile stretching across her features.

"It's just a good thing Optimus caught him before he could hit his head again." Arcee trotted over to the ground bridge controls as she spoke, punching in a few quadrants.

"Picking up Jack?" Bulkhead asked. She nodded, "Mind if the kid and I come with?" She shrugged, chucking as Bulk practically leapt from his place on the floor, shoving the cane into his subspace and transforming for the child rushing to his side. The ground bridge opened with a flash as the two cybertronians rode though.

The late fall air was chilled and moist from the recent rain, a rarity in Jasper. The road was not of the ideal driving condition but both bots didn't seem to mind, simply happy to be out of base. Miko was enjoying the drive as well, curling up in the passenger's seat and watching the desert fly by. Jack was waiting outside his house when the Autobots approached. June stood next to him.

She rubbed the back of her neck, "I was hoping to get a ride. My car's in the shop." Bulkhead opened a rear door.

"I've got the room," he offered, "hop in." She readjusted the data pads in her arms as she climbed in. "Those for Ratch?" He asked.

"Yes. I haven't seen him in a few days so I've got a lot of questions piled up." She smiled. She and the doctor had grown very close due to their frequent tutoring sessions. "How's he been?"

"Eh, not so great," Bulk hummed his dash lighting up as he spoke, "He had another seizure yesterday. He's still sleeping, so you'll have to wait to talk to him." June's face fell.

"I was scary, June," Miko leaned over the back of the seat. "He said he needed to sit down but fell before he could reach a chair. Optimus caught him but he started shaking and made this awful noise like your dialup internet does."

"That was his voice box glitching, Miko." Bulkhead interjected.

"Yeah, yeah. You said that already," Miko waved the comment off, "It was still freaky." June turned her gaze down, wanting to comfort the child but not knowing what to say. Arcee's voice over the intercom saver her from having to.

"We should probably get him up when we get back, Bulk. Sick or not, he's not a fan of sleeping in." Bulk hummed in agreement as the doors to the base slid open, allowing then entrance. Arcee left Jack with the wrecker and strode towards the medic's living quarters. She knocked lightly, simply to check that he wasn't already up. He'd never been fond of people simply coming into his room. When she gained no response she eased the silo door open. Ratchet was laid flat on his berth, one arm slung across his chest and the other hanging off the edge of the berth. Arcee placed a small hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Ratch," She whispered, "Time to get up." He grumbled, shifting on the berth. "How you feeling?" She asked, trying to keep him from falling back into recharge.

"Head hurts," He moaned, making no move to sit up.

"Are you wanting to recharge some more?" Ratchet shook his head.

"Just give me a moment." He pulled himself up, using Arcee's shoulder for support. "My processor's just foggy." The two wheeler simply nodded, sitting on the berth next to the mech. He swung his legs over the edge to join her. Arcee grabbed his hand when he started rubbing at it.

"Your hands hurting again?" She asked, grinning when he leaned into her touch.

"Like you wouldn't believe," He sighed.

"June's here," Ratchet hummed, "She's got a mountain of datapads for you. "

"Ugh. I don't think I'll be able to get through much today. My optics feel like they're being smashed into my helm."

"Those seizures are hard on you, huh?" Ratchet bowed his head, turning his gaze away. Arcee placed a hand on his knee. "You do know you can talk to me, to all of us. We only want to help you." Ratchet brushed off her hand with a little more force than he'd intended. She made to retaliate when the berthroom door slid open, revealing the brightly colored Prime. He moved to join his companions, smiling.

"Arcee," He spoke, his tone that of a commander, not a friend, "An energon trace has reappeared, we're rolling out." She nodded as Optimus turned to Ratchet, "June is here and manning the bridge. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything." Ratchet snorted.

"I have a head ache, not an amputated limb. I'll be fine." Optimus brushed the snarky remark off.

"Very well," He sighed, "Let's go, Arcee." With a nod to Ratchet, she followed her Prime out the door. Ratchet sighed, slumping until his helm was in his hands. The pity was unbearable. Understandable, yes, but frustrating. His entire life he'd anticipated this, dreading it. Now that he was in the middle of his worst nightmare it wasn't the disease that scared him most. The constant ache, the seizures, the shaking, loss of mobility, all of it was torture but bearable. The looks his comrades, his friends, gave him, however, burned.

A knock on the door frame ripped Ratchet from his thoughts. June smiled at his expression, recognizing the self pity there.

"You okay?" She asked her voice soft.

"Fine," he spat, stepping over her with a limp.

"Ratchet?" She turned, reaching for the bot as he limped away. "Ratchet?!" He paused, stomping a pede down.

"Stop," His voice was dangerously low, "Just stop. I am so sick of your slagging pity. Frag off." June could only stare. She'd faced a grumpy Ratchet before, heard his swear, and watched him throw tools about his medbay but he'd never directed his anger towards her. The two simply stared at each other for a long klick, until Ratchet finally closed his optics, making to turn. In that moment of silence, disturbed only by the ringing of the mech's engine, an alarm pierced the air.

"Scrap," Ratchet cursed, bolting down the halls with June on his heels. "Scrap," he repeated as he studied the screen. A message, flaring red, flashed on the screen. He jammed the comm. link button into the consol.

"Optimus!" He barked, "What's your status?"

"Bumblebee is down, Ratchet," The prime's voice was urgent and filled with static from the unstable audio feed, "We've managed to drive the Decipticons back but he's taken a hit to the chassis." By now the children had gathered at the medic's feet.

"Is he conscious?" It was evident that Ratchet was worried.

"Yes, but barely and losing energon quickly."

"Do not move him," Ratchet was already moving to collect his medical kit and activate the ground bridge. His limp had all but disappeared in his rush. "I'm on my way." Whatever response Optimus had was lost to the sound of the ground bridge activating.

The battle field had gone quiet. The enemy had retreated and the three remaining Autobots were crowded about their fallen comrade. Bulkhead was hunched over a moaning Bumblebee, hands pressed to the gaping hole just left of his spark chamber, in an attempt to slow the flow of leaking energon. Every head turned as a flare of light signified an opening ground bridge. Ratchet rushed through, med kit in hand.

"Move," He shouted, pushing the wrecker to the side as he dropped to his knees. After a quick examination he began ripping tools from his kit. "The blast hit directly next to his spark chamber, and ruptured a main energon line. If I don't get this sealed up, he'll bleed to death in minutes. But luckily that seems to be the only real damage."

"We have your back, Ratchet." Optimus called, gun arm raised, "Do what you can."

"Bulk," Ratchet called, beckoning him over, "Press down here," he instructed, indicating a point just above the wound. Bumblebee whined as pressure was applied to his chest. Ratchet shifted his right hand and lower arm into a welding torch, directing the flame to either side of the severed line. Eventually the flow of energon slowed as the line melded back together. The injured scout hissed when the heat seared his plating unintentionally.

"Frag!" Ratchet cursed, "These hands are too fragging unsteady."

"Do you need help, Ratchet?" Optimus called.

"No, slag it! Just keep your weapons active and let me do my job." A lens slid into place over Ratchet's left optic, allowing him to see the delicate circuitry surrounding Bumblebee's spark chamber. Most of it was badly frayed, but nothing life threatening. Just as Ratchet finished connecting another transistor a blast shook the earth.

"Incoming!" Arcee called as jet after jet made contact with the ground.

"Go help," Ratchet instructed Bulkhead, "I can handle it from here." Bulk nodded, storming to his companion's aid. Ratchet was used to working in the heat of battle due to his vorn as a field medic. He had to admit that is was distracting though. Bumblebee's optics flickered as he let out a static filled wail.

"Stay with me, Bee," Ratchet soothed, "I'm almost done." The scout managed a nod.

Suddenly pain seared through Ratchet's back, causing him to arch back as fire spread across his back strut. Another shot collided with his shoulder, sending the medic toppling to the side. As his vision faded to black an all too familiar cackling rang in his audios.

A/N: Thank you to those that reviewed. Originally I had planned to only post this story once it was completely written. Instead I have 7/12 chapters finished and thus plan to take a short reprieve from posting after I've hit 6 chapters. Until then, see you next week.

Don't forget to drop a review. I love hearing from others, whether it's critique or a simple comment.

-Jordan