A month after I said I'd be back, Chapter 12. Sorry for the wait. Hopefully the chapters will come a bit faster now.
Two weekends came and went without much notice. The hours were long but the days too short and before anyone knew it half a month had passed. The children spent an almost worrying amount of time with their guardians, so much so that even Miko's host parents had taken notice. In the mornings they would force themselves from slumber, clamber into their guardians' passenger seats and stumble through Jasper High's front door.
School was more difficult than ever. It became common place that assignments were turned in late or half completed. For once in her short life Miko managed every day without a single detention. Time was simply too sparse, she refused to waste it inside a classroom when it was not strictly required. Her companions, and most of all Bulkhead, were grateful and overjoyed. There was hope for the troublemaker yet.
After school hours the children found themselves exhausted. It was not uncommon for Rafael to doze off in Bumblebees back seat or for Miko to forget about the radio entirely. Once at base, the other's would rouse there charges and trudge off to their respective duties. The children would dash as quickly as their numb legs would carry them to the medibay and plant themselves in front of the CR chamber until one of the bots could convince them to leave.
Tonight, however, the sight of June's car parked off to the side of the ops room startled not only the children out of their routine but the bots as well. Miko glanced up at Bulkhead as he transformed, brow raised. Bulkhead shrugged. It was not uncommon to see June at base but she normally only checked in on Ratchet before her shifts at the hospital or late at night when she got off work. Even Jack appeared startled as they walked to the medibay.
The door to the repair-bay ground open with a wail of protest revealing a dimly lit room. Optimus sat on a berth near the CR chamber, back bent to allow his elbows to rest on his thighs. His optics strayed momentarily from watching June work at the console to glance back at the medibay's six new occupants. He flashed a small smile before turning back. Bulkhead moved to stand behind him.
"What's going on boss bot?" He mumbled, gaze drifting to Ratchets limp form. To his surprise the medic's optics were wide and focused. His optics flittered between the Prime and June, seemingly unaware that anyone else had entered the room.
"June is performing a check of Ratchet's coding before we remove him from the CR chamber," Optimus explained. "He woke around noon. We'd planned to check him tomorrow morning anyway."
Miko stepped forward, mouth open and head tilted back to meet Ratchet's optics. "So, the doc gets to come out today?" June turned, smiling.
"Yes, he may," she informed. "Everything looks good. Optimus, why don't you go grab Wheeljack to give us a hand?" The Prime nodded and quickly left the room. No one missed the tense hold of his shoulders. He was elated that Ratchet was healing so well, but the danger still stood. It was highly possible that within the CR chamber Ratchet was healthy and stable, but the moment they pulled him out his health would deteriorate he would fall ill again, even quicker and more agonizingly.
Bulkhead followed him out, ushering the children and his fellow soldiers with him. Miko protested, batting against his hand when he made to pick her up.
"Bulk," she gripped, "I wanna see this."
"Uh-uh," the wrecker countered, giving a firmer tap to her back, "we need to give them room to work."
"I can be quiet! I'm tinny! It's not even possible for me to be in the way." The medibay doors opened again to admit Optimus and Wheeljack. Bulkhead gave a sheepish smile before simply picking the pouting Miko up and carrying her out of the room. "Bulk!" She practically wailed.
"I said no," Bulkhead snapped, glare turning harsh and angry. Miko flinched back, surprised. Through all of the tension in the last few months, through every difficult day and every losing battle, Bulkhead had never once raised his voice to her. He'd glared at Optimus a few times, shooed Bumblebee off during one of his more sour moods and had even practically screamed at Ratchet after a lost battle but he'd never so much as glared in Miko's direction.
Bulkhead's expression softened as the small girl tensed in his hand, as if awaiting blows she knew would not come. His optics widened and his brow raised under his helm. "Miko, I-", he began, stuttering somewhat on the words. "I didn't mean-" Miko patted at his wrist before he could continue, smiling up at her guardian.
"'s okay, Bulk," She mumbled. "My fault."
The wrecker sighed, shoulders sagging. He glanced up to see both of his fellow Autobots staring at him. Bumblebee wore a rather empathetic look while Arcee simply appeared worried.
"Bee," Arcee mumbled, making her voice as light as possible, "Why don't you and I run a quick patrol?" Bumblebee nodded slowly in agreement. Arcee sparred Bulkhead one last glance as they departed. "All yours, Bulk." The wrecker nodded gratefully, motioning the children over as he sat on the concrete floor with a thud.
Bulkhead was patient as ever as he waited for the children to arrange themselves on the floor around him. Miko, as usually took up the spot on his knee while the other two arranged themselves into a semicircle.
"All three of you have been very helpful and patient these last few months," he smiled at each in turn. Rafael gave a broad smile back but both Jack and Bulkheads own charge still looked worried and unsure of the situation. "But when we tell you to do something, or not do something you need to listen." Miko turned her gaze down.
"Sorry," she mumbled, still down cast, "I just wanted to watch."
"I know," he assured, "but honestly I don't think it's going to be something you want to see." Jack gave him a puzzled look while Rafael merely grimaced, knowing all too well what was about to go on behind those closed doors.
Bulkhead sighed heavily, trying to figure out how best to explain. "During the start of the war CR Chambers were used pretty regularly. They're actually much more efficient than surgery and tended to be less physically traumatic. Been in a few times myself." He shook his helm as a shiver ran down his back struts. No matter how much time passed the memory of CR time was always fresh. "Going in is uncomfortable. Coming out downright nasty. Trust me; you don't want to see this."
"That bad?" Jack cringed back minutely at the expression Bulkhead gave him. "On a scale of one to limb reattachment, how bad are we talking?"
The wrecker waved a hand. "No, no. I'd much rather have my arm reattached. Ratch deadens the sensors there, a few welds and new cables and you're good to go. CR fluid is thick, more like jelly than water. Sticky too. Vents don't like to give it up, and I swear it sticks to the inside of your tank for at least the next week."
Miko gapped in horror, the feeling of goo in her lungs and insides tingling over her skin. "In your tanks?" She squeaked, "I knew you breathed the stuff, I didn't know you ate it too."
"In order for the nanites to thoroughly repair the frame," Rafael began, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with the palm of his hand. "The solution has to be in contact with every surface possible. It'll be in his helm too, to get at his processors."
Bulkhead shrugged, "Processors, tanks, vents, T-cog, optics, interface panel. Only place it doesn't go is inside the spark chamber, unless it's cracked. Liquid near the spark is a very bad thing."
"Interface panel?" Jack mumbled, but dropped the subject when he saw the nervous glance the Autobot gave the group's youngest member.
With a sigh, Miko turned back to look Bulkhead in the optics. Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows turned up. "I was wrong. I don't want to see."
The medibay was silent except for the hydraulics of two nervous bots and the subtle gurgling of the CR Chamber as it prepared to drain into a secondary compartment. Ratchet glanced about worriedly. What was a gentle rumble to those outside the CR Chamber was a deafening roar to Ratchet. All the movement and sound was frightening, and while logically he knew none of the bots present would willingly cause him harm, he was vulnerable and groggy. It became easy for instinct to take over any conscious thought.
Optimus watched his friend carefully for any sign of distress while both Wheeljack and June shuffled about, making preparations. The sequence used to drain the CR chamber and the equipment that needed to be set up throughout the medibay was a lengthy process. They double checked every aspect of it as well. For the most part Ratchet seemed patient. Every now and then he would flinch when he caught sight of Wheeljack, processor quickly forgetting the other bot was present and thus gearing up for another jolt the next time the wrecker moved. While the repair nanites had done their work in removing strain of code that was CCG, they had done only minimal repairs to the medics processing. In time, his mind would right itself, but the Autobots simply did not possess the resources to keep Ratchet suspended for as long as it would take to heal all the damage the illness had done.
"Everything's good over here," June called from the elevated upper level. Wheeljack gave her a sharp nod.
"Starting the draining process." He tapped at a small button on the CR Chamber's controls and the machine whirred to life. The slits at the base of the CR Chamber opened, allowing the liquid inside to flow unheeded into a separate container situated at the back of the tank. Or it would have, if the secondary compartment had been attached as it should have. Instead the liquid simply flowed out onto the floor, rendering the concrete slick and oily. It would be a mess to clean later but Optimus paid it little mind as he lurched forward, prepared to catch Ratchet the moment the glass doors slid open. Wheeljack placed a hand on his shoulder, using both as comfort and to steady himself when his pede slipped marginally.
As the fluid drained passed Ratchet's helm and his pedes scrapped against the grated floor he jerked forward. What could only be described as sludge flooded forward from his open mouth. Depleted energon and coolant mixed with spent repair nanites and dribbled down his chin to pool in the still draining liquid below. The medic coughed and sputtered. Every time he attempted to clear his intakes, more CR fluid was sucked in through his vents.
Optimus looked aghast, frozen in place. Wheeljack however, simply winced and placed a calming hand over the glass where Ratchet could see it. The medic made a grab for the appendage and seemed almost surprised that a barrier was blocking his path. He rapped on the glass as if to try again.
"It's okay, Ratch," Wheeljack soothed, loud enough for the medic to hear but still not at the level of a shout. "'nother minute and we'll get you out."
That response did not seem to placate the panicking mech. Instead he leaned his weight further against the glass, no longer supported by any buoyancy as the CR fluid had now drained to his waist. The first real breath he took through every available vent was rough and grating. Fluid gurgled within his systems and ran in rivulets down his sides. Suddenly he gagged, his tanks spasming and preparing to purge. His pedes slipped back and clanked against the far side of the chamber as he dry heaved, causing his chevron to slam against the glass.
Wheeljack cursed and slammed a fist down on the release button for the CR Chamber doors. "Gonna make a mess anyway," he mumbled. Optimus seemed to snap back to reality with the hiss of the doors. He wormed his hands into the chamber before the doors had opened wide enough for his arms to fit through, ready to catch his eldest friend. Fluid poured over his pedes and sloshed at his ankles. The Prime caught Ratchet under his arms, holding him up and Wheeljack stepped to the medic's side and held his helm as he purged. Thick and sticky sludge emptied from Ratchet's mouth, splashing onto the floor and Prime's pedes. He grimaced but said nothing as Ratchet heaved again.
After what seemed like far too many convulsions and more expelled fluid than Optimus thought was possible, Ratchet fell limp into the Prime's arms. He coughed weakly, innards feeling like they'd been rubbed raw, yet still acutely aware of the remaining CR fluid trapped there. Wheeljack sloshed through the fluid on the floor to help Ratchet into Optimus' arms. Once he was situated the Prime carried him carefully to the furthest berth, as the closest was covered in splatters of goop. The wrecker gathered up the monitoring equipment they had prepared while Optimus saw to it that Ratchet was decently comfortable. His ventilations still came in rapid, wet sounding bursts, but he was now taking in at least some air. Golden droplets, flaked with shimmers of blue, seeped from his optics and down his cheeks. Optimus grabbed a cloth out of a nearby bin they'd filled with cleaning supplies and wiped up what he could. The medic, however, was covered in the rather oily substance. He would need a good several washes to rid him of it.
"Readings are stable," June announced, reading the data carefully as Wheeljack hooked Ratchet into the monitoring systems. Optimus let out a long, relieved sigh. His relief however, did not last long.
"Wheeljack," he called, doing his best not to startle the still wide opticed medic. The wrecker glanced over, concern tight on his faceplates. "He's damaged himself."
Wheeljack leaned down, running a hand over Ratchet's forehelm soothingly. "Bent chevron," he agreed, "not really much to worry about. Probably hurts a bit, but not enough to bother with right now. He'd just freak out some more." Ratchet's gaze darted to the swords mech the moment he began to speak. A shaky hand came up, searching for the other. The wrecker grabbed his hand and gave a gentle squeeze.
Ratchet opened his mouth as if to speak, but all he managed was a cut off gurgle. Wheeljack snorted, grinning. He gratefully accepted the solvent soaked cloth Optimus handed him and began to rub down Ratchet's neck cablings, being careful to get as much of the gunk inside the medic's seems as he could.
"You're doing real good, Ratch," he mumbled, never letting go of the medic's hand as he worked. "I'm proud of yah. You're a brave mech." He glanced up to Optimus, offering a soft smile. "You too boss. Not an easy thing for any mech. 'specially if they ain't a medic."
Optimus returned the smile. "I was unaware that you had any medical training," he offered. A conversation would help to settle his rolling tanks. He now knew why Ratchet had never let him be present when any of his mechs came out of the CR Chambers. Even as Orion he'd had a weak tank. How he handled the gore of battle had always confounded the medic.
Wheeljack shrugged, the movement causing Ratchet to flinch and grip his hand tighter. He ran a soothing hand over the unbent portion of the medic's chevron before speaking. "'for all this fighting I was an engineer. Decent but had a habit of-" he waved his cloth about in a noncommittal gesture, "getting over enthusiastic. Had Ratch patchin' me up more than I can remember. Spent a fair amount of time watchin' him work even before we ended up together. That and it was fairly useful to know how to crimp an energon line when you got yourself blown up every other megacycle."
Optimus raised a brow, "You were an engineer?"
"Freelance, no one would hire me permanently," Wheeljack responded, "but yeah." He twisted to look back over his shoulder. "How's he lookin', June?"
The human smiled, the majority of tension she had held earlier drained from her body as she relaxed back into her chair. "Better by the minute," she beamed. "His vitals are leveling out nicely."
Wheeljack grinned down at the medic. "Hear that Ratch? You're doing good. Keep it up." He gave the mech's hand a firm squeeze when Ratchet responded with another gurgling sound.
Optimus frowned. "We should clear his intakes."
The grey mech nodded, pointing across the birth to a round rubber tool. Optimus handed it to him then gently grasped Ratchet's jaw. The medic immediately began to squirm, associating the action with them inserting the breathing tube. Unfortunately, this was not dissimilar. The Prime leaned forward to place his weight against Ratchet's chest, pinning him against the berth, and pried his mouth open.
Ratchet practically shrieked as Wheeljack guided the thin tube attached to the rubber bulb into his mouth and down his intakes. His wails turned to moans as the object was squeezed and released, suctioning up the fluid that filled his vents and intake.
"Just a bit more, Ratch," Wheeljack assured. "Trust me; you'll thank us for this." Both mech's sighed in relief when a whooshing sound came from the device instead of the wet slurping that proceeded it. Wheeljack carefully eased the tool out of Ratchet's throat. The medic coughed and sputtered for a moment before settling, glaring at the Prime as he was released.
"How to you feel, Ratchet?" Prime asked, resuming his task of whipping down the medic's frame.
Ratchet groaned for a moment more, coolant welling up in his optics from the sting of his intakes. Finally he decided on a word. "Ow."
Wheeljack chuckled, "I bet." He picked up Ratchet's hand again, rubbing a thumb along his palm. "Ratchet, can you squeeze my hand for me?" While it took him a moment to figure out the command, nearly punching Optimus as he attempted to remember which hand was which, Ratchet eventually managed to do as asked. Wheeljack nodded, humming in approval.
He then moved down to Ratchet's pedes, placing a hand over his right one. "Can you wiggle your pedes?" he asked.
Ratchet squirmed. "No walking."
"Defiantly no walking," June called out, a badly hidden smirk flashing across her features.
Wheeljack gave her an exasperated look, through see could easily see the humor and jest in his expression. "No walking," he agreed, "but can you wiggle them?"
Ratchet pondered this for a moment before shaking his helm. "No." Wheeljack sighed, giving the medic an apologetic smile.
"Okay, then let's get you cleaned up and recharging." He mumbled as he joined Prime yet again in scrubbing the sludge from Ratchet's frame. Ratchet nodded, though he appeared as if he wasn't quite sure what he was agreeing to.
"We knew the chances of him regaining his mobility were slim," Optimus reminded. Wheeljack didn't respond. June, however, stood and straightened the scrubs she'd never bothered to change out of.
"He's stable," she remarked, "I'm going to go check on the others. Call me if anything changes." Optimus nodded, granting her the kind of smile that made her believe he was even more soft-sparked than he let on. For once, thankfully, the medibay doors only gave a soft groan as she left.
Once Optimus had moved down to rub at his chest plates, Ratchet's optics began to drift closed. His ventilation still sounded ragged, but smoother, and only a few seams on his sides now leaked CR fluid instead of it pouring from every gap it could squeeze through. Wheeljack hummed softly as he worked and Optimus ran a hand over Ratchet's chevron, watching as he fell into a, for once, peaceful recharge. It was the first in a long time, and, the Prime hoped, would be the first of many.