Autobot City held through the long night. Small miracles abounded. Doors held that should have fallen, Kup and Daniel found a whole storeroom full of ammo when they thought they'd run out, and one overwhelmed medic got the help he so desperately needed to keep the Autobots alive.
Only the most critically wounded were brought to the repair bay now. Any Autobot who could still fight stayed in the line, so desperate was the battle for the city. Even so, every repair table was occupied. The sharp tang of spilled energon fought with the acrid smell of burnt circuitry; droplets of energon mingled with puddles of hydraulic fluid, lubricant and coolant on the once-pristine floor. In the middle of it all, a harried First Aid bent over a badly wounded gray and white Autobot with red horns--Bluestreak. On an adjacent table, the latest arrival, Sideswipe, lay still in shock, fluids leaking from the hole puncturing his chest.
Too many wounded, thought First Aid. I can't even get to all of the very worst hurt in time. I'm going to lose some if this doesn't stop--
"First Aid, get on Sideswipe there! He's got a bad fuel leak near the pump. I'll take over on Bluestreak."
First Aid looked up blearily at the familiar white and red bot standing beside him. "Ratchet! Thank Primus! I was starting to lose it, and I'm the only medic here--or I was." He obediently moved to the critically wounded Sideswipe, letting the older medic take over on Bluestreak's emergency repairs.
"Well, we're not going to lose anyone else tonight if I can possibly help it," Ratchet said grimly as he worked on Bluestreak.
"We will if someone can't find us the rest of the spare parts. I've exhausted the repair bay's stores, and there's no one to spare to get them from the main warehouse."
"I think I can scare up someone," said Ratchet.
Prowl, drop whatever you're doing and see if you can find the spare parts in the main warehouse. I need 'em in the repair bay.
Wingnuts! Ratchet, this is a really, really bad time for me to drop what I'm doing--
I'll handle it, Wheeljack interjected. I even know where the spare parts are.
Wheeljack! Didn't expect you back so soon.
Eh, didn't take me that long to get sorted out. Even if I was totally surprised--never figured it'd be quite like this! I'm still me, but--wow!--it's like being spark-bonded to everyone! Anyway, figured you might need me here.
I sure do. Show yourself before you enter the repair bay--First Aid doesn't need the distraction of dead guys popping out of thin air. Not when he's tryin' to hold Sideswipe's fuel pump together with duct tape.
Hey, give me credit for some common sense!
This from the inventor who never learned the meaning of the words 'safety interlock'?
... Point taken. Anyway, I don't think he's heard the bad news yet.
He doesn't need live guys popping out of thin air, either. Trust me, that sort of thing is distracting when you're elbow-deep in somebody's smashed chassis.
Point taken already! Although I really want to hear how you know that, sometime...
Does the name 'Mirage' ring a bell?
About five minutes later, Wheeljack rolled two carts stacked with boxes into the repair bay. "Hey, First Aid! This what you need? Major systems modules should be on cart number one here, and the little stuff like cables, gears, hydraulics and hoses in that pile on number two."
"Wheeljack? Thank Primus! You may have just saved Sideswipe's life! Crack open a box of fuel pumps and bring me one stat!" First Aid delicately shifted probes in Sideswipe's chest. "This patch won't hold for long--bring me some replacement fuel hoses and clamps, too."
Hey, Ratchet, what happened to 'I can't fix you because I'm dead'?
Exaggeration for effect, Wheeljack. Second reason I couldn't fix you still applies. Now are you going to make yourself useful, or am I going to toss this spanner at your head?
*chuckle*
"I'm on it," Wheeljack said, carefully unpacking the fuel pump from its box. "Let me know where you need a hand--Ratchet isn't the only one who knows his way around the inside of an Autobot."
"That's right, you built the Dinobots, didn't you?" said First Aid as he made room for Wheeljack to assist.
"Yep. Ouch, that looks bad--laser must have nicked his fuel pump. Sides is lucky it didn't explode," Wheeljack said.
"That can happen??" First Aid's voice shook, but his hands were steady as he hooked the new fuel pump up in parallel with the damaged one.
"Yes, with a hot enough weapon, like a laser.. or Megatron's fusion cannon," Ratchet said from across the room. "You haven't seen many battlefield casualties, have you?"
"No, this is my first real battle. I don't like it one bit." First Aid's voice steadied; there was an undertone of anger.
"None of us do. You're doin' fine, First Aid. Just keep on doing what you're doing. I'll back you as I can," said Ratchet.
Bluestreak came back online with a start, optics flaring bright with barely suppressed panic that turned into an expression of incredible relief at the sight of Ratchet. "Ratchet... Oh thank Primus it's you! I was afraid we'd lost, and I was in Decepticon hands, and they were reviving me to interrogate me or something and--"
"Shhhh, calm down, Bluestreak," Ratchet smiled at him in his best "reassuring doctor" manner. "It's all right, I'll have all the pieces back in place in a few minutes."
"You're not going to yell at me about getting shot? I mean, it's not like I planned on it, but those Seekers caught me from above and--"
"Bluestreak."
"Yes, Ratchet?"
"Calm down. Isn't like you had a choice, or anyone else here," Ratchet seemed to sigh. "Battle's still going on--you'll do what you have to do, Bluestreak. If it all falls apart, either me or First Aid will take care of you, okay?"
Bluestreak looked up Ratchet with such innocence and hope as to wrench the medic to the depths of his spark. "I know you will." He relaxed then, letting himself drift as Ratchet continued with his repairs.
Primus! It's going to be hard leaving this kid behind... Who'll take care of him next time?
I keep asking myself that about the Dinobots, Wheeljack answered. They still don't have a lot of friends--though that new kid, Hot Rod, likes 'em. Just gotta hope for the best.
Yeah.
Sometime later...
You know, if Arcee or Kup drags someone in here, my presence is going to be real hard to explain.
Wheeljack, giving Kup material for a new ghost story is the least of our problems right now. You two got Sideswipe stable yet?
Yea, got the replacement pump installed. Just tying off the damaged hoses and removing them now. And I was just mentioning it because I heard someone coming down the hall.
Blaster staggered in carrying an unconscious Perceptor. "First Aid, Perceptor's been hit! I don't know how bad!"
"Bring him over here, I'll take care of him," Ratchet said, interrupting First Aid before he could say anything. "I'm finished with Bluestreak," he said as he shooed the now-conscious Autobot off his repair table, "and First Aid's still putting important pieces of Sideswipe back together."
"Ratchet?? When did you get here? And how? I thought you were coming in on that shuttle that turned out to be full of Decepticons!" Blaster staggered over to the repair table next to Ratchet and carefully laid Perceptor down.
"Do I look like a Decepticon? I got here about an hour ago. Now quit your yapping so I can see what's wrong with Perceptor."
Nice duck and weave, Ratchet.
Hmmph. What made you think you're the only one who doesn't have a good explanation for being here? And you can quit trying to hide behind First Aid, Wheeljack. I don't think Blaster has a clue that you and Blitzwing's cannon got personal. Turn the rest of the work on Sideswipe over to First Aid and come help me with Perceptor.
"What happened, Blaster?" Ratchet asked as he looked over Perceptor's bent and battered chassis. "Looks like concussion damage--explosion?"
"We had those lousy cassetticons on the run, Ratchet, and then BOOM! POWIE! Somebody got us ranged in with a heavy gun. My ears are still ringing!" Blaster said, shaking his head as if to clear his audio pickups. "Good thing my cassettes were chasing Soundwave's cassettes cross country, or they'd have been shredded, Ratchet."
"Blitzwing." Wheeljack stood at Ratchet's shoulder. "Lucky it was only a near miss."
Blaster said, "I think you got the villain pegged, Wheeljack."
Perceptor groaned. "Oh my aching head! What hit me?"
"I'm going to, if you twitch like that again when I'm checking out your scope array," Ratchet snapped. "Perceptor, do you still keep spare lenses in the lab?"
Perceptor tried to focus on the blur above him. "Ratchet, that sounds like your voice, but my vision is severely blurred."
"Your lenses were cracked in the blast, not your ears: do you still have spare lenses?"
"Yes, but I'm not sure where I put them."
"I know where they are!" Wheeljack interjected. "I came across them last week when I was clearing out some cabinet space for my new project." Wheeljack took off for the lab, his feet clanging on the floor as he ran.
"You're sounding a lot better, and Ratchet will get you fixed up good as new!" Blaster said, sounding pleased. "I've got to keep an eye on the situation, so see ya round!" The round red Autobot headed back out of the repair bay.
Slag. I just realized I won't ever get to finish that project.
You aren't the only one who's had that feeling. It'll pass.
I hope so.
How many projects did you leave behind on Cybertron when we left on the Ark? Did it bother you all that much on Earth?
No... but there was so much else to do on Earth, and what I left behind on Cybertron was just... not relevant anymore. If it was, I picked it up and applied it to Earth problems.
Hmmm....
...Point taken.
"Ratchet, how did you get here? I thought you were on that shuttle, but when Megatron and the Decepticons came out instead, I... assumed the worst," Perceptor said.
"First Aid needed help, so I came down to the repair bay to lend a hand. If you keep talking while I'm removing all this shattered lenswork, you're going to wind up with small shards of glass in some very sensitive circuits."
"Eep!"
A short while later, Wheeljack returned with two long metal tubes containing Perceptor's spare lenses. "Got 'em!"
"Good. You can do the lens re-alignment. I've had enough fun removing broken lenswork; I need to check his other circuits. He had a pretty bad shaking-up."
"Does that mean it is safe for me to talk now?" asked Perceptor.
"Sure! Just don't get the urge to wiggle around while I'm doing this," answered Wheeljack as he opened one of the metal tubes and started installing the lenses in Perceptor's lens array.
"There!" said Ratchet some time later as he closed an access panel. "That takes care of the last of those loose circuits. Once Wheeljack finishes with your lenses, you should be as good as new. Next time, learn to duck faster."
"I certainly shall endeavor to do so. But, if you're not too busy with another patient, could you satisfy my curiosity on a couple of points?" Perceptor asked.
"Maybe," said Ratchet as he put away his tools.
Perceptor lowered his voice. "How did you get to Autobot City, Ratchet? You were on the Moon Base, and only one shuttle has come to Earth since then. That shuttle carried Megatron and his followers."
Ratchet glanced at Wheeljack. "You about done with that lens alignment?"
"Just closing up now, Ratchet. Perceptor, I'm about to reboot your optical routines. Your lenses will be offline for a few seconds."
"Perceptor, I started the trip on that shuttle. I didn't finish it. You'll understand tomorrow. And," Ratchet's voice caught for an instant, "it's been good to know you. Goodbye, old friend."
Perceptor's lenses finally came back on line, but Ratchet was nowhere to be seen. "Where did he go?"
"That was a surprise," Wheeljack said, looking at an uninteresting section of wall.
Slag it! Wheeljack, I'm a coward. I couldn't lie to Perceptor, and I couldn't tell him either. We've been friends for too long.
Uh, thank you for dropping it on my head? Good grief, this isn't going to be any easier for me!
I know. Sorry about that. Try to break it to him easy.
"I suspect you possess information hidden from my observation," Perceptor said. "I wish you would share it with me. I am quite confused--and I feel like I've lost a friend, somehow."
Wheeljack's ear fins both dimmed. "Not really lost, just... transferred away. Far away. He's right, things will make more sense tomorrow. And I'm afraid I've some bad news for you, my friend: I've got the same transfer. I hate to say goodbye on such short notice, but it's more notice than I originally had, which was none at all."
"Now I'm completely confused. You're leaving?" Perceptor's voice was shaded with dismay.
"I'm sorry, Perceptor, but I am. I can't stay. Take care of the others, okay? You've been a real good friend, and I haven't always been the friendliest bot to be around, but.. thanks for being who you are, and for being my friend."
"Please! Tell me what's going on, and why you have to leave."
Wheeljack looked at his friend, his very best friend, sitting on the repair table and sighed. "Perceptor, you know what I'm trying to tell you; you just don't want to believe it. I wish you hadn't asked... you've always been my friend, and I didn't want to hurt you sooner than you had to be--but I never lied to you in my life and I'm not starting now."
"I do know what I think you are trying to tell me, but if I understand you correctly, you shouldn't be here telling me that at all. That's what I find rather confusing about all this, and why I suspect I do not understand what you are attempting to tell me."
"Now I'm confused," said Wheeljack.
"We might understand each other better if you stopped trying to spare my feelings and just informed me of the simple facts, cold and cruel as they might be."
Wheeljack's ear fins dimmed again; he stood silent for a moment. Finally, he answered, "The Decepticons killed everyone on the incoming shuttle just after it launched. About three hours ago, Blitzwing shot and killed me."
There was a long silence. "That.. was colder and crueler than I hoped for. You and Ratchet are... ghosts?"
"Something like that." Wheeljack faded from sight.
"Goodbye, Wheeljack. Tell Ratchet goodbye for me."
"I heard. Goodbye, Perceptor, my old friend," Ratchet's voice said softly, then there was only silence.
A few minutes later across the room, First Aid looked up from Sideswipe. "Well, with a bit of rest, he'll be as good as new-- where did everyone go?"
Perceptor looked back at First Aid. "I'd guess back to wherever they dropped in from."
"Well, foobar. I wanted to thank Ratchet for his help before he left; now he'll probably think I'm some rude young know-it-all," First Aid said.
"I doubt there's much danger of that," said Perceptor. "He probably has a good idea how you feel about his help."
# # #
You did what?? Wheeljack!
I told Perceptor what happened, so you might want to, um, steer clear of him, Prowl. He's rather upset right now.
....
That's my fault, I'm sorry to say. I lost my nerve at the last moment and let Mr. Subtlety here make the explanations.
Thank you, Ratchet--and thank you for making sure Sideswipe didn't join us just yet... I don't think I could handle that.
I didn't quite catch that last thought, Prowl.
Never mind, Ratchet. Just keep on doing what you need to do.
I hate to bust in on this here conversation, Prowl, but things are gettin' a bit hot at the gate. Brawn's looking it over, and the minibots can handle it, but I don't like what's fixin' to happen at the guntower.
Be right there, Ironhide.