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No Particular Reference
By : LeavesofMyself
Category: Transformers > G1
Views: 2509 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: See full disclaimer in Chapter 1
Chapter List
- 27
- 28
LeavesofMyself: Well, here we are…. Several years later…. (clears throat). Not going to make excuses, so… Onward!
Units of Time
Astrosecond = ~.273 seconds
Kilk = 1.2 minutes
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Solar Cycle: 1 day
Orn = 13 days
Groon: ~1 hour
Stellar Cycle: ~7.5 months or 1 year
Vorns: 83 years
Italics = Emotes/Thoughts
Bold = Comm. links
Sentinel shifted uncomfortably, his large frame fidgeting under the intense scrutiny of her silent judgment, his servos twitching softly every few seconds before they swiftly rose to cross over his chest plates in a futile attempt to shy away from her calculating gaze. A sense of foreboding knotted itself in his core, while a thread of dread bounced around in his helm, fed by his gnarling paranoia and utter resentment at not only his situation and a certain medic, but now, of himself. He wanted to break the thick silence, but found himself unable to even force his vocalizer to cooperate, so he simply waited for her to finish breaking him down in her mind as he believed her to be doing.
Several kilks turned into a breem of pure, tortuous fidgeting and lingering, unspoken fears before Sentinel could finally summon the courage, and the last shred of his shattered pride, to sit upright in a mocking display of vain authority and spoke, his words faintly commanding though they lacked their usual condescending tone, "Why am I here?"
Her gaze never wavered, though a small, false smile split her lips, "An evaluation… of sorts."
Ratchet chugged down his first cube of high grade energon of the evening, his servo slamming the empty cube onto his desk, the thin glass cracking from the force, as the sound of splintering glass echoed violently throughout his hazy processor. Ratchet flinched from the assault on his sensors as he quickly brought up a shaky servo to pinch the bridge between his optics to suppress and sooth a building ache there. A gargled sighed slipped unnoticed from his vocalizer as he shook off his discomfort, his servo already grasping his soon-to-be-second high grade cube, his digits making quick work of the seal of the volatile mixture before he gingerly sipped from it, wanting to nurse this cube to banish the growing demons dancing at the back of his thoughts. Ratchet spent the next groon sipping his energon, his mind wandering to his current predicament and the very growing sense of helplessness and despair that plundered his spark.
Primus, Ratchet prayed, his somber optics starring listlessly into the dark, florescent colored liquid that was his salvation… He wanted to continue, to beg Primus for something… anything but words merely escaped him; he hadn't a clue what he even wanted: Forgiveness? Retribution? Ratchet simply settled for numbness as the pain in his spark quickly bore down on the old mech, his still far-too-sober optics misting over with his ache but, even in the solace of his own medbay, the grumpy medic refused to allow his inner turmoil out.
Ratchet lifted the last bit of energon to his lips, gulping down the harsh liquid before setting the empty cube next to its broken brethren. Ratchet reached for another one, only to find he had already depleted his supply. A simmering rage boiled in Ratchet's circuits, his processor irate that he had run out of his numbing concoction before he was ready. He just wanted to numb his thoughts, was that simply too much to ask for? Ratchet snarled as he threw one of the cubes against the wall, the glass shattering loudly before clattering to the ground in a violent fashion.
"You always do this," Ratchet hissed, his optics burning as he chucked the other cube, his processor long since lost to his anger, "You always take everything back!"
Ratchet, with a rage unsatisfied, threw a nearby datapad across his office, hearing, more than seeing, the destruction of the insignificant device, "It wasn't enough that you allowed Cybertron to fall to ruins," he growled, his servos destroying everything within reach as his processor gave way to his pent up despair, "You stole Acree from me," another crashed of an unidentifiable object meeting a violent end echoed soundlessly in his audios, "Omega Supreme…" another crash, "…my position, my reputation," Ratchet was howling by now, his vents shuttering, "Now this!"
Ratchet turned on the heel of his pede and slammed his servo into his office's wall, watching with astute optics as the precious concrete caved, spider-web like cracks exploding outward from the point of impact and loose debris rocketed away from the wall, pinging harmlessly office his slumping frame. The medic's servo sparked from acquired damage, over-sensitive sensors flaring with pain, yet Ratchet felt nothing but his own wretched spark screaming out with consuming agony.
The medic's heavy frame withered, his knee supports buckling underneath the torrent of emotions, and his vents sputtered in grief. Finally, in the stilled solitude of his office, a soft keen danced lightly off the thin walls as Ratchet allowed himself to fully feel the crushing weight of his dreams dissipating before his own, war-worn optics.
"In this your final conclusion," Ultra Magnus verbalized as his forlorn optics finished the report handed to him a mere groon ago. Soft optics nodded in approval and the large commander heaved a sigh, "You are dismissed."
Red Alert hesitated, but the sound of rampaging pedes storming toward her flurried her into movement, her slender frame saluting gracefully before hurrying toward the exit. She was stopped however, when the rampaging beast slammed into her frame, her stabilizers glitching from the force of the impact and she fell back, a surprised yelp pressing past her lips as she fought to right herself before she sprawled across the ground. Ultra Magnus was upon her in astro-seconds, his largo servo serving to right her balance as she regained her footing; she was trapped however, pressed between her gentle commander and the snarling, hissing mech in front of her.
Sentinel's optics burned red as he zeroed in on the duo, a deep, ominous growl bloomed from deep within his frame. Ultra Magnus tensed, his large frame subconsciously folding around the delicate femme within his grasp as he instinctively fought to protect her. Before he could attempt to conjure soothing words, his First Lieutenant pounced.
Ratchet sat with his frame pressed firmly against the destroyed wall of his office, his large, white shoulder panels slumped in exhaustive defeat as dimmed optics surveyed the destruction of his office. He was spent now, the burning misery soothed to a smoldering sorrow, his spark hesitantly giving way to a minuscule shard of acceptance. He was nowhere near at peace with the young Prime's decision but, like many scenarios before this, it was out of his servos.
Ratchet pulled one of his leg upward in an angle as he rested his arm across the thick appendage. His vents shuttered and hiccuped as his helm came to rest against his arm, blue optics dulled with simmering grief. Primus… Ratchet lamented as a haunting melody of soft, broken keens disturbed the tender silence; his song of hopelessness and sorrow echoing throughout the lifeless chamber, dancing momentarily in the stillness of his office before dissipating into the quiet, somber air.
Primus….
Ultra Magnus barely had enough time to push the smaller frame behind his own before his First Lieutenant's fist slammed forcibly into his towering form, the metal beneath the servo warping and caving under the pressure of the blow. A fleeting grimace of pain blossomed across his optics before his reflexes flew into overdrive, his servos swinging wildly to counter his snarling underling. Sentinel's processor was lost to his ire, his mind no longer able to register that his attacks were falling unto the wrong chassis. His distress demanded retribution; it didn't matter from whom at this point.
Snarling in blinding fury, Sentinel fought viciously, each punch and kick aimed true and delivered in punishable swift processions, giving his superior mere seconds to recover and block. With each deflection, Sentinel pounced twice as hard, his frame powering on despite his vents heaving for the cool air to soothe to over-taxed systems.
Ultra Magnus pushed away the younger mech's kick once more, deflecting the power behind the appendage into the wall next to him, his optics noting the crater that formed beneath Sentinel's leg, the noise of the impact made Red Alert jump, and a smothered gasp of surprise escaping defiantly from her lips. Sentinel paused in his attacks, the gasp breaking through his haze of red as he scanned the other occupants of the room, noting with considerable glee the damage inflicted upon Ultra Magnus' frame.
Ultra Magnus took the moment of pause to speak to his First Lieutenant, praying that he could reach the young mech before he caused irreversible damage he would come to regret later, "Sentinel…"
The larger mech was silenced quickly when Sentinel dashed forward, his Skyboom shield appearing in hand as he used his momentum and the sturdy shield to slam into Ultra Magnus, shoving his superior back into a wall, the material concaving under the force. The large mech groaned, stabilizers spinning as they tried to re-write themselves, the blow having knocked his systems into disarray.
Red Alert cried out in horror as her commander slummed to the ground, her fear heightening when the young Prime raised the shield to slam it into his opponent, "Magnus!"
Sentinel turned burning optics in her direction and she froze, her own optics widening in untamed fear and apprehension at the vehement murky red that now adorned her Prime's vision. A twisted smirk stretched across the blue mech's face before he stepped toward her, only to be stopped by a large servo snaking itself firmly around a pede, causing Sentinel to let loose a growl of utter frustration.
"Red Alert," her commander hissed, his optics focusing on her still frame, a soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth, "run."
And she did.
::Ratchet!::
The medic shifted his weight, his frame locking up from remaining in his current position for an extended period of time. The medic was sorely tempted to ignore his com-link in favor of remaining with his suffocating thoughts for a few moments longer, but the desperate, pleading tone the barked along his audio sensors spurred him into action as he swiftly shutdown his emotional hardware and push his dark thoughts to the back of his processor for another time.
::Ratchet here.::
A noise of victory met his com-link as he moved from his position on the floor, his gears and pistons hissing softly with his movement.
::Thank Primus!:: the elation in the femme's voice captivated the medic's curiosity, ::It's Sentinel!::
Ratchet froze, his frame locking up in unease as panic raced across his spark; decades of war-induced scenarios blurred the medic's processor, vents clicking and shuttering in full blown dread. A soft keen of dismay graced the air as Ratchet fought to control himself as those simply words had slammed his emotional hardware back online abruptly and into overdrive.
Red Alert, unaware of her counterpart's current predicament, continued, ::He's gone berserk! He attacked Ultra Magnus…::
::He what?!:: Ratchet was near beside himself as he launched his frame forward into a sprint toward the med-bay's door, his hull slamming into the opposing wall just beyond his sanctuary as his pedes skidded across the floor in a shower of sparks and screeching metal. The med-bot transformed and pushed his engine beyond its mean, the sirens adorned his chosen Earth-bound vehicle screaming as he raced down the halls blindly.
::I evaluated him a groon ago for…:: the femme was interrupted with a spat of 'I know what it was for' by a medic who simply did not, and could not, hear more on the subject (he didn't think his withered spark could handle anymore that solar cycle), ::He didn't agree with my findings, but wasn't irrational when I left to give my report to Ultra Magnus. He was upset, yes, but not to the degree in which he is now.::
The ambulance cursed colorfully as he pushed his engine harder, his sudden presence more than startling his teammates as he burst into the Common Room of the building. He chose to ignore the pings of concerns and questions from his squad as he raced out of their headquarters and hit the open highway, his spark focused on only finding his rampaging carrier before further damage and harm was done.
::Where the frag are you?:: the medic snarled, his frame weaving hazardously through the human traffic, earning several curses in various earth languages as he gave very little to no time for the humans to move their own contraptions out of his path.
::Magnus' ship. We managed to contain him so far, but..:: once more Red Alert paused, trepidation bleeding into her vocalizer. With gruff encouragement from her companion, the femme continued, ::I don't know of Magnus' condition. He told me to run and I did, but Sentinel was making to come after me. Ultra Magnus stopped him, but I do not know what happened after I fled.::
Ratchet barreled into the clearing where their commander's ship was located, ::I'm here.::
Red Alert acknowledged him and let him into the lockdown ship, the hydraulic door opening mere astro-seconds before he burst through them. The medic quickly transformed and push his electromagnetic field outward, hoping to find the wayward carrier more quickly if his field brushed up against that of the raging storm that was Sentinel at the moment.
Kilks quickly turned to breems as the frantic medic raced through the maze that was the corridors of the ship. A groon approached in his search when he felt it, the stinging of smoldering anger and an all-encompassing exhaustion. A kilk went by before he came to a halt in front of the First Lieutenant whose form was resting against one of the corridors' walls, his vents sputtering in a vain attempt to cool the dangerously overheating frame as it wavered on its pedes, stabilizing systems taxed and malfunctioning from the recent activity.
"Sentinel…" the whispered escaped him before he could catch himself.
The young Prime lifted his gaze to the medic's, huffing in irritation as noted who stood before him.
"What are you doing here?" the question was spat, but no real bite existed beneath the words, exhaustion winning in the war within the Elite Guard member.
Ratchet did not respond, his optics too busy scanning over the lithe frame, his processor quickly categorizing injuries while simultaneously listing treatments and supplies he would need in the near future. The young Prime's frame was relatively unscathed with the exception of Sentinel's servos, which were sparking lightly from incurred damage. Ratchet's form relaxed somewhat when he concluded that most outer wounds could be repaired with a simple paint and primer, however, he could not calm himself fully, as he took notice of his carrier's dulled and mangy blue optics that bore into his own in frustrated inquiry.
"Sentinel…" The med-bot began as he moved toward the weakened Sentinel, though a soft hiss of distrust kept him rooted to his place, "You need to let me examine you."
Sentinel Prime sneered at the suggestion, his tired frame sagging further into the wall for support as he attempted to straighten himself before Ratchet, "No."
Ratchet's vents sighed in gruff annoyance at the youngling's rebelliousness. Sentinel, in return, let himself be filled with a childish glee as he silently praised his ability to push the medic's button.
"Go back to your filthy hole, medic." Sentinel barked as he pushed away from the wall, his frame swaying on its pedes as the severely depleted body began to move in shaky steps past the med-bot. The young Prime made it to Ratchet's side before his knee hydraulics gave way, his frame collapsing downward in utter exhaustion, spent from his rage induced tirade.
Ratchet quickly caught the collapsing mech with a cry of dismay and surprise, his own frame going down on one knee as he attempted to balance both of their weights on a moment's notice. Sentinel blinked his optic shutters, a look of shock smeared across his faceplates as if he were dumbfounded that his own frame had betrayed him. As Ratchet went to stand and lift the carrying mech into his arms, Sentinel bounced back to the moment, his tired optics narrowing in displeasure as he hissed in warning.
"Don't touch me!" Ratchet simply ignored the Prime's command as he started towards the ship's med-bay. Sentinel could do little more than snarl and growl as his chassis refused to listen to any of the commands his processor sent out.
Ratchet allowed his electromagnetic field to wrap itself around Sentinel's as it sent pulsing, rhythmic waves to soothe the cloudy, tainted field that had become the Elite Guard's own. The pulses seemed to work, as the Prime's weak struggles died away slowly as the last of his energy was spent, the near listless optics flickering in imminent stasis lock. A keen of panic was barely suppressed by Ratchet as he hastened his steps toward the med-bay, his com-link calling to Red Alert, who informed him she was already inside treating their Supreme Commander's wounds.
The medic's paced quickened further when Sentinel's frame became still, those tired optics darkening and the tense frame in his arms relaxed completely. Ratchet's spark nearly exploded with full-blown hysteria when the young mech's electromagnetic field began to bleed away…
Red Alert looked over her beaten commander with soft, empathetic optics, her field pulled tight around her frame in guilt. A gentle pat to her shoulder plating pulled her optics away from the various dents and scraps littering the blue and white frame; she forced a kind smile in return.
"He really did a number on you," she teased softly, her optics training back to her servos that were currently banging out a dent in Ultra Magnus' side plating. The commander allowed a laugh to escape him before he winced, the movement stirring his injuries.
Ultra Magnus was covered in scrapped paint from where he had blocked Sentinel's advances, his forearms and servos taking the brunt of the damage. One servo sparked viciously from where a particularly nasty kick had been caught and the inertia of the impact caving the slightly more delicate armor, causing wires within the servo to fray and pinch, some ripping violently from the force. The Supreme Commander's side plating had also taken a direct impact, the metal there warped, though the damage looked to be surface only (Red Alert wouldn't be certain until she took a peek beneath the plating's area). One of Ultra Magnus' optics had been cracked in an attack that had occurred after she had fled on her commander's orders.
The worst of his injuries centered around his left servo's shoulder, where sparks laddered outward from his frame in what looked like an apparent torn shoulder rotary. Magnus' refused to explain how he had received the injury, though Red Alert had an inkling that it had something to do with Sentinel's Skyboom weapons.
"I do not condone his actions, but I do understand his anger," Ultra Magnus iterated as he watched the femme's delicate hands pound away at a minor dent on his frame's plating. Red Alert's optics narrowed in sorrow and, just as she opened her mouth to speak, a frantic Ratchet burst into her med-bay, his optics bright with barely constrained apprehension. She took in the appearance of the Chief Medical Officer briefly before her optics landed on a stasis locked Sentinel Prime before a tendril of dread nestled in her own spark chamber.
Ratchet's gruff voice barking out orders promptly brought her back to reality, her frame unconsciousnessly moving to and fro as her processor digested everything the older medic said. Ultra Magnus dragged his frame away from the medical berth he had been resting on as Ratchet replaced the spot with the carrying mech's offline chassis. The Supreme Commander moved to a distant part of the med-bay and took a seat on another berth there, his optics watching as his medic and CMO worked diligently on his First Lieutenant.
Ultra Magnus offlined his optics as he bowed his helm and lifted a prayer up to Primus for the sake of his subordinates.
Primus…
Sentinel onlined slowly, his systems sluggish and hazy. A stifled groan escaped his static-laced vocalizer as the first thing to pop up in his hub were blaring warnings detailing a severe depletion of energy, damage reports, and diagnostics that were, at the current moment, too much of a jumbled mess for the Prime's lethargic processor to decipher. Sentinel went through the warnings quickly, dismissing all of them without ever reading them, though he could not ignore that, while he had some energon in his system, his core was demanding for a more suitable level. With that in mind, Sentinel made to sit up in the berth he was on, however, he found resistance in the form of servos gently, but firmly, pressing him back to the berth.
Huffing in confusion, the young Prime onlined his optics, which flicked to life, though they were dull and listless. His surrounding blurred around him and the more he tried to focus, the more the processor ache within in his helm pounded. A grey servo lifted upwards to try and soothe the ache, but it was caught in another's grip. A reassuring squeeze followed as well as a murmur of words that Sentinel's audios couldn't make out. The servos surrounding his let go and he let it fall back to the berth beneath him with an audible clank, the sound echoing in his processor as his face contorted in a wince from the sudden noise.
The voice murmured something again before Sentinel felt a quick prick to one of his medical access ports. His vision slowly faded to black as his systems quickly shutdown from the sedative. As the last of systems fell offline, Sentinel managed to force out a garble 'thank you' in his native tongue; the numbing blackness quickly followed.
When Sentinel came online the next time, he was met with blissful silence from his hub, all earlier warnings eradicated by whoever had been with him. He also noted that while his processor ache still remained, it had simmered to an ache as opposed to the chaotic storm it had been…. How long had it been?
Sentinel quickly checked his chronometer, which alerted him that he had been under sedative stasis lock for the past four solar cycles, which nearly caused the Prime to jump in alarm. With great effort, Sentinel remained in control of himself, forcing the mild panic down heavily as he onlined his optics. It only further added to his confusion and growing sense of dread. He was met with the dim lightning of their medical bay, the privacy walls extending around his berth, cutting him off from unwanted intrusions. Despite his efforts, Sentinel still couldn't quiet the meep of surprise that left him as he fully took in his surroundings.
The sound carried throughout the med-bay; it was followed by the sound of pedes racing toward him. The Elite Guard Prime was just able to push up into a seating position when one of the privacy walls were pulled away to reveal a very haggard looking Ratchet. Sentinel's optics widened in surprise as he had figured Red Alert would be the one to greet him, after all, it was her med-bay.
The young Prime swung his legs over the side of the berth and, just as he made to stand, he as once more shoved back into position, this time, not by gentle servos, but by the weight of a chassis pressing against his own. Sentinel's vibrant optics widened in confusion and utter shock. Just as he was about to voice his perplexities to the medic, he was interrupted by said medic's muffled and relieved clicks and whirs of 'Thank Primus' in the Cybertronian language.
Ratchet's bulky chassis slipped down his own, as if the med-bot had lost all strength to stand on his own. He came to rest on his folded pedes, his arms wrapped firmly around Sentinel's midsection, the medic's helm nestled in the Prime's black thigh plating.
A breem went by before Sentinel, unsure of how to react to the medic's uncharacteristic display of emotion, placed a hesitant servo on a red and white shoulder paneling. The medic in turn grabbed his servo and gently brought it to his lips, allowing them to ghost over the back of the grey servo before he lifted tired optics to completely floored ones. Ratchet reached up slowly with his other servo and promptly backhanded the Prime.
Sentinel's helm snapped to the side from the blow, a slight sting registering in his sensor net, and a small squeak of indignation and surprise slipped past his lips. Sentinel snapped narrowing optics to the medic who was now righting himself, his chassis standing tall in front of him as the medic's own optics narrowed in his ire.
"What the frag is wrong with you?" Sentinel hissed as he pulled his still captured servo free from the medic's.
"Pull a stunt like that again and I'll dismantle you bolt by fragging bolt," Ratchet snarled, his optics flashing, briefly, to indigo in his moment of anger.
"What are you talking about?" came Sentinel question, his voice soft and confused as he winced under the medic's irritation.
With a growl of annoyance, Ratchet explained, his voice rising in decibels before he eventually fell back into cursing the youngling out in Cybertronian, "I'm talking about the fact that you let yourself get so worked up, you threw a temper tantrum that could rival those of Starscream! I'm talking about the fact that you attacked not only Red Alert, but your superior officer as well! I'm talking about the fact that you wounded Ultra Magnus a good deal; I spent two solar cycles repairing his slagging rotary cuff in his shoulder paneling! I'm talking about the fact that you entered stasis lock from your lack of self-control!..."
Ratchet's vents hiccupped as his anger gave way to grief and somberness as he watched the sheer awe on his carrier's faceplates twist with every syllable he uttered, "I'm talking about the fact the you were slipping away… You stasis locked youngling… Your field… The sparkling…."
Sentinel winced back at the mention of sparkling, it was a subject he still did not want to divulge in just yet. The medic's weary frame sagged forward as Ratchet rested his tired frame on his servos, his arms on either side of Sentinel's legs.
With a heave of air through sputtering vents, the med-bot forced out the words.
Ratchet's sparked twisted in its chamber, his processor heavy with melancholy. He watched as Sentinel's face contorted from shock to guilt to something else, something that made the young mech's optics wet and a shaky sob left stilled the silence. A grey servo quickly clasped over his mouth and vexed understanding bloomed through wide, dreary optics. The blue and orange frame shook with smothered sobs for a few astro-seconds before Ratchet pulled the not-quite comprehending mech to his own chassis. He flared out his own doubtful electromagnetic field in a show of understanding and sympathy, his own dull optics threatening to spill over before he shoved it violently back. He was needed to give comfort… his own would come later in a fresh supply of potent high grade.
A groon passed before Sentinel was able to calm himself enough to pull away from the medic's heated frame, his bleary optics looking deep into blank ones. The young Prime's servos came to rest gently on Ratchet's chestplates, an action that caught the medic off guard, though he did not show it, his faceplates a false mask of numb detachment.
"I…" Sentinel stumbled, his words laced heavily with static; with a deep intake of the cool med-bay air, he continued, "I'm sorry," a broken sob exploded from his lips before he composed himself, "I'm sorry…"
"Me too kid." It was all Ratchet could think of to say. His processor utterly blank, too tired to attempt to create a worthy response.
"I didn't," Sentinel's words died away into sobs as he fought to find the right words to express his confusion, his vexing grief, his guilt…
"I know, kid, I know." Ratchet chocked out, the weight and worries of his own spark finally slamming home.
Ratchet gently pulled the wailing mech too him one more, his own faceplates stained with the weight of the past orn dripped down quietly as the medic silently lamented the damage done.
Primus….
LeavesofMyself: I had this chapter written for quite some time now, but I've been on the fence with the ending. Don't get me wrong, I think it ended ambiguously enough that I can take it in several directions, however, I am unsure as to which progression to favor at the moment. I guess I'll ponder it slightly longer and, in the meantime, move forward with other projects. Anyway, thank you all so much for continuing to favor and read this story; it greatly warms my heart and has kick started my brain-babies once more, so expect to hear a lot more from me in the near future.
- 27
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No Particular Reference	By : LeavesofMyself Category: Transformers > G1 Views: 2509 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: See full disclaimer in Chapter 1

No Particular Reference