[Ratchet x Reader] Remember me

(Name) wasn't the nicest bot on cybertron. Attitude got her into sticky situations, and her trigger-happy personality wasn't a big help, either.

But she wasn't a criminal.

Autobots were chivalrous, it was true. But man, were they quick to jump to conclusions.

Present dilema; she was stuck in a vault, energon leaking out of her servos and mid-section. It had happened so fast, she couldn't quite comprehend what really happened. The fact that she was half-concious from energon loss when it happened was a factor to her memory, but she knew that the Autobots thought her an enemy and deemed it a good idea to keep her prisoner.

(Name)'d been in trouble before, but this was different.

She was sitting against a wall, on a raised platform, mulling over what memory she did have, when the door creaked open. An orange-and-white mech stood there, a bit on edge, with a bag in one servo. (Name) glanced, vaugely irritated, up at him. She was too tired and in too much pain to do much more than shift positions.

"Excecution time?" She said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Not even close." The mystery mech answered, brow furrowing in annoyance. "I'm here to help."

"You don't look that happy about it."

"And you look like death. I have to help you, weather I want to or not, Medic's code." He stepped into the vault and closed the door behind him. (Name) quirked a brow, but not before noting he didn't lock the door.

"Medic's code, eh? That's noble." she smirked, despite the numb pain from her abdomen.

"Hardly." The mech set the bag on a shelf and strode over, deciding to do a quick analysis of her injuries before setting to work.

"I used to know a medic." She said absentmindedly, waving a servo best she could. "He didn't really want to be one, so he volunteered for the war... died his first week."

"Fascinating."

"You have no sympathy." She tried chuckling, but ended up coughing energon into her servo. The mech genlty took her wounded servo in his own, taking a few bandages and wrapping them around the cut. She was silent, watching without much interest as his steady servoes moved the adhesive into place and secured it.

"What's your name?" (Name) asked softly, when he finished.

"Ratchet." He answered, moving to leave. "I know your name, (Name), so don't bother."

"Wait... you need to fix me." She demanded weakly. "You still haven't.... my.." She clutched at the deep hole in her mid-section. Wires can be seen amid the energon that constantly welled up in the injury.

"That will be tended to tomorrow." Ratchet answered. Her optics widened, then an almost painful feeling settled in the bottom of her throat. Panic. Tomorrow? What if she bled out by then? What if-

"You're going to be okay, just get some rest and don't move." Ratchet said, upon seeing her panicked expression. She glanced at him, and his expression had softened, just the slightest, barely enough to even notice. He has dealt with this kind of thing before, she guessed.

Before she can say more, he left. Door locking. (Name) was left wondering about the gruff, yet interesting mech that had stood before her just seconds prior.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Well?" Asked Optimus. "Anything to report?"

"She's hurt badly, Optimus, I need to fix the main injury." Ratchet replied, striding past the Prime and setting the bag of Medic supplies on it's normal shelf.

"She'll figure out the lock can be overrided from the inside. She needs to stay immobile until we can do something about it." Optimus said, Crossing his arms. Ratchet sighed in distain.

"She will offline." He said through grit denta, Optimus was his friend, yes, but when it came down to life and death -of anyone- he had to listen to his gut. He couldn't just let them die. Medic's code.

Optimus took a deep breath. "I trust you to keep her alive, but bedridden." He ordered. Ratchet snorted, but nodded and turned to the computer to catch up on some unfinished work.

"... anything else?" Optimus requested.

"She seems confused." Ratchet answered absently. "But she jokes too much for me to know exactly what she wants."

"Sarcasm? Sounds like someone I know." Optimus let a light smile show, and his old friend returned the gusture.

"Sarcasm? Me? No, it's not possible." Ratchet joked. Sarcastically.

Optimus shook his head, fondly. "Get some rest. I want her to trust you, us, and I know how hard that is for you."

"As you say." Ratchet exhaled, remaining stoic unitl Optimus left the room. Then he put a palm to his face, pinching the metal between his optics. What had he gotten into this time?

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

(Name) stared at the wall. It wasn't very interesting, she had to say, but it was all she could look at. She was a little bit too scared to move, lest she tear something else and bleed to death in the vault on a hard metal table.

She kinda wanted Ratchet to come back.

The way he held her servo, wrapped it with precision only achieved by years of practice, she couldn't get it out of her processor. The way he stood, walked, talked. It was all she could think about. Given, it was quite literally all she could think about, she still was a bit fuzzy on the details of before she'd came here, but she really did want him to come back, not just to null the pain.

She must've fallen into recharge, because her optics snapped open at the sound of a door creaking. At first she didn't know what in Primus was happening, then it hit her like a blaster to the gut.... well, she did take a blaster to the gut. She was in the vault, but someone was coming in the door.

(Name) turned her helm, slightly. The orange and white mech was closing the door behind him, bag in hand. Just like yesterday. She offers a slight wave, just a twitch of her servo.

"Do you know how boring it is in here?" She greeted, surprised at how much her voice rasped. She gingerly felt her throat, wincing a bit at the sharp pain that responded. Ratchet raised a optic ridge.

"I can't imagine." He drawled, rummaging in his bag. He seemed a bit off, at the moment. On edge.

You frown, "Are you alright, Doc?"

He glances over. "Me? What about you? You've got a gaping hole in your abdomen."

"Well, yes, but I'm not sulking."

"I don't sulk."

You snort, ignoring the sting that came with it. "Sure you don't."

Ratchet huffed, rolling his optics. He finally got the supplies he was looking for and strode over. "I'm fine. Happy?"

"Not as much as I would be if you told the truth." She replied. Ratchet scowled, but said nothing as he set suplies down besideher.

Gently, he pushed on her shoulders, setting (Name) flat on the slab of metal. She stared up at the ceiling before casting her optics over to the Medic. His face relaxed in concentration, she couldn't help but stare as he began.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Ratchet was in the middle of a war. In his processor, that is. He wanted to fix her to the best of his ability, like he was trained to, like he was supposed to. But Optimus had made his orders pretty clear.

But, (Name) wasn't bad.

He didn't know how he knew, he didn't even have the evidence to support it, but he had a feeling, deep in his spark, that she wasn't the criminal the team made her out to be. The medic bit back a sigh of conpemt, and set to work.

His servoes ghosted over her middle, skills he had plenty of needed now more than ever. He cleared the wound, cleaned it. The anti-biotics. Bandages. It would have been quick work, but he decided to test is patience today.

"Ratchet?"

The Medic's optics flickered over to meet hers, before nodding and looking back down at his project. The look on her face was confused, hopeful. Painful.

"What... Happened?"

"Care to elaborate?"

"I can't remember anything." She explains, a shrug shifting her body. "I was thinking... you might know?"

Ratchet took a breath. He'd diagnosed the amnesia when she first came. He remembered how Arcee and Smokescreen had dragged her mangled form through the groundbridge, Hound helping Wheeljack through, but before that -out on the feild, where he wasn't needed- he knew nothing. The look Optimus gave her rasied questions that Ratchet hadn't had answered yet, either.

"To be honest, I don't know." Ratchet replied, after a moment. He resisted cringing at her crestfallen look. "But, I'll be sure to find something out."

"Really?" She brightened, and Ratchet grit his denta, trying to stay accurate while every move she made almost had him mess up. "You'd do that?"

"Well, they are your memories, yes?" He responded, finishing with the bandaging.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then you have a right." Ratchet interupted, cutting off the access and stuffing the rest of the material back in his kit. He gave her a once-over (The medical kind, perverts) and nodded, satisfied.

"Thanks, then."

Ratchet hummed and began to head out, done with his work and wanting to report back to Optimus. One more question reached his audio receptors, and made him pause.

"Are you going to come back?" Her voice was small, tentative. Ratchet could only infer that she must be going insane with solitary confinment, in a vault, no less. He pitied her.

"I think there's a good chance of that happening." Ratchet said slowly. That was all she needed. Her form slumped with relief and she smiled, content.

Ratchet nodded once more, then stepped out of the makeshift prison. Arcee was waiting behind the door.

"You fixed her, all the way, didn't you." It was a statement, not a question. Ratchet stood a bit striaghter.

"Medic's code."

Arcee watched with narrow optics as Ratchet strode down the hallway and into his quarters. She couldn't remember last time she was so annoyed with the Medic. He was up to something.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Cycles passed. Ratchet's visits were daily, and each time he would stay just a little bit longer. He never did get the answers from Prime, all he got was a confused and slightly suspicious look from the boss, nothing more. Still, he told her all he knew, and she seemed satisfied with just that.

One day, he walked in to see her standing.

Well, it wasn't nessesarily standing, she was leaning on the table that she'd lain on for so many weeks before, but she was on her pedes. She looked up at the inevitable creak of the door.

"Aw, you caught me." She grinned sheepishly. It was a silly expression that made her seem so much happier than she was, what with being confined. "I was practicing... I thought you'd... nevermind it's stupid."

Ratchet watched as (Name) slowly hefted herself back onto the table, then swung her legs from it, a look of slight embarassment and guilt on her features. Ratchet knew that Prime would be in fits if he found out she was on her feet.

"Well, what did you think would happen? Now I'm curious." Ratchet asked, with a slight smile. He leaned on the wall, crossing his arms comfortably.

"It's stupid."

"You haven't said many stupid things, since I've known you." Ratchet commented. She rolled her optics, but grinned shyly nonetheless.

"Well, I thought, maybe... I could finally impress you... instead of being a worthless corpse on a table." (Name) shook her head. "It's stupid, I told you."

Ratchet blinks, surprised. Impress him? Why would she want to? (Name) saw his look and brought her legs up to her chest, burying her face in her servoes.

"Ah, told you it was stupid..." She muttered.

"Not really." Ratchet said. "I get it."

(Name) peeked up from under her servoes. "Seriously?"

"Well, I'm always working to impress Prime." Ratchet shrugs. "Pretty hard to work up to someone who's supposed to be perfect in every way."

"You've got a Prime out there?"  

"I didn't tell you?"

"No!" (Name) slammed her servoes on the table. "I'm being held prisoner by a PRIME?"

Ratchet tried not to shudder at the thought of Optimus holding a prisoner. Last time they tried that, the one in handcuffs almost crippled Arcee. The Prime hadn't kept anyone in confinement since. "Optimus Prime, yes."

"Wait, Optimus? The guy who who won't tell you what happened?" She asked indigantly. She cocked her head, narrowing her optics in irritation.`

"Yes..." Ratchet uncrossed his arms and began to pace slowly. "His intentions always prove to be good -in the end, anyway. I trust him, he's my friend."

(Name) bit back a retort, then softened. "Well, I can't blame you."

Ratchet froze. Not quite what he was expecting. "How so?" He asked slowly.

"I used to have a friend. I trusted them... she lead me places and told me it was good. I belived them, for the longest time. Then I opened my optics and left for earth." She shrugs, almost smugly. "But, he's a Prime. You need to trust his every word."

Ratchet narrowed his own optics. "He's never been wrong before."

"Never?"

"(Name), I've never been good at riddles. What is it?"

"I'm not a bad bot, Ratchet. Yet he keeps me in here." Her voice rose dangerously, her servoes curled into fists.

"(Name), I-"

"No, no. You should trust your fragging leader! He's never, ever been wrong, huh?" She was yelling now. She'd never yelled before, Ratchet didn't like it. "You tell me how great he is, how much of a good friend and leader, and at the end of the cycle, I'm still in here!"

Ratchet exhaled briskly. "I guess you are." He nodded once and made his leave. Though (Name) had a point, Ratchet didn't want to think of Optimus like that. Optimus was..... Optimus. He had a reason for everything.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Ratchet stood before a computer, absently typing out codes and solutions for codes and basically anything to get whatever job he needed done, done.

He was a bit bored.

Suddenly a crash reached his audio receptors. Ratchet turned, curious. Suddenly he saw Optimus and Arcee running past the room. Ratchet's brow furrowed and he approached the door. As he got closer, he began to hear the exchange between Optimus, Arcee and -his spark skipped a beat- (Name).

Speeding up, he was behind Optimus in moments. (Name) was leaning against the wall, holding her chest with energon welling between her servoes. Optimus had his own servo outstreched toward Arcee, who had her blasters out and smoking.

(Name) caught Ratchet's optic and smirked, though it was laced with pain. "So... this is your 'amazing team?'" She coughed. "Well, I belive you about Optimus, it's just your teammates that really get me."

"Ratchet." Optimus said, his voice dangerously low. "Please, explain to me what is going on."

Ratchet was internally panicking. He needed to say something, something that would make peace between the three. He needed to tell Optimus the truth, he needed to talk to (Name).

"Optimus, you need to trust me." Ratchet began,

"I do, Ratchet." Optimus shook his head, just once. "But this... I don't know what to think."

"(Name), she isn't what we think." Ratchet fished for words he thought he had. "You know I have been visiting her, daily. She has proven she isn't bad."

Arcee scowled. "She opened fire on us."

"She did not, Arcee." Optimus sighed, "Lower your blasters, and we will have this matter resolved."

"W-will you finally tell m-me what happened out th-there?" (Name) asked, she was going for demanding, but it came out weak. Arcee lowered her blasters and walked away, brushing past Ratchet and isappearing around the corner.

Ratchet realized with a start that Arcee, infact, shot her.

Optimus held a servo out to (Name), but she glared and strode -limped- past him. Ratchet stopped her, and offerec his own servo. She studied him for a moment before taking it, allowing him to lead her down to the proper medical wing.

"Well, this isn't quite how I thought my grand escape would go." (Name) chuckled.

"At leat you're out of there..." Ratchet muttered. "And did you not think to say goobye to me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to see me again." She whispered, ducking her helm. Ratchet looked down at her, surprised.

"Why would you assume that?"

"You seemed pretty pissed when you left." (Name) shook her helm. "Just shut up and fix me like you did last time."

Ratchet laughed, much to her annoyance, but refrained from inquring more. Soon they arrived at the medic bay and (Name) was set down on the metal bed that was situated there. Optimus stood by the wall while Ratchet set to work.

"You wish to know what happened before your.... confinement." Optimus stated.

Ratchet remained silent, not wanting to interupt the confession, but he was almost giddy to know more.

"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged and winced at the movment.

Optimus sighed, looking to the far wall before setting his optics back to hers. "It was supposed to be a relic retrival. The decepticons intercepted and I had to call in backup. When your ship crashed, we never realized you weren't a con."

"Then why capture me?" she asked. "Why not leave me there for the cons."

"Because you asked for us to take you." Optimus said softly.

Ratchet hesitated. (Name)'s face contorted in confusion. "Why- who- would want to be captured? Held prisoner in a vault?"

Optimus looked as if he really didn't want to say anything more.

"Because the only reason the 'cons had abushed us, was because they were chasing you." Optimus finished. He took a breath and let it out slowly.

(Name)'s brow furrowed. Ratchet was glad he finished, he didn't think he could stop his servoes from shaking. Before he could tell her to stay still, (Name) sat up and looked at Optimus, dead in the optic.


"You must be kidding me. What really happened?"

"I'm assure you, I'm not lying."

Ratchet made no move to intervene, as (Name) looked around the room before her gaze landed on her own clenched servoes. Her breathing sped and slowed as she tried to calm herself down then failed, over and over again.

"I know why he was chasing me." She breathed. Ratchet paused his work and looked to her expectantly. Optimus was intrigued as well. "Megatron? He wanted something I had and- augh! I can't remember."

She pressed her servoes to her helm, her face twisting into a painful expression. Ratchet gently took them, lowering them to her lap. She looked at him, her optics searching desperatley for condolance, for saftey. "Ratchet, he wants to kill me. I know. I just.. can't remember why."

Ratchet felt a pang of sadness, her voice was laced with painful hoplesness. He wanted to comfort her, with all he had. He didn't know how. He'd never needed to comfort anyone.

So, he did something he'd never done before.

Genlty, he embraced her, wrapping steady arms around her shaking form. She paused before shyly returning the gesture. Her helm rested on his shoulder. Slowly but surely, her shaking ceased. Ratchet's spark fluttered, and when he pulled back, Optimus had left them in peace.

(Name) smiled, despite the sad look in her optics. "Thanks, doc."

Ratchet grinned back. "Feeling better?"

"Much better, yeah."

She looked at her lap. "Uh, I wouldn't mind another hug?"

Ratchet tipped (Name)'s head up with a servo. Unable to hold back a sly smile, he bent down and kissed her, gently. After a moments hesitation -only because she was surprised such a gruff doctor like him would be so intimate- she kissed him back, resting a servo on his broad shoulder.

Yeah, she'd been waiting for that.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Cycle thirty as an Autobot, and I still don't have an insigma." (Name) complained.

"Your arm is still healing." Ratchet replied

"I don't NEED it on my arm." She whined.

Ratchet looked up. "You weren't nearly as annoying thrity days ago." He said with a smirk. (Name) quirked a brow.

"I'll be less annoying once I get an inisgma." She coos.

Ratchet huffed. "Fine." He begrudgingly agreed. (Name) cheered and leapt off the table she was perched on. Animated with happiness, she slid onto the table closer to the welder and figeted while Ratchet readied the equipment.

Soon, (Name) had a fresh new Autobot sign on her arm. And boy, was she happy about it. She pranced around the base, even before it fully cooled, and showed everyone. Ratchet admiring her from a distance until she made her entire round and came back to him.

She pecked him on the cheek, embracing him. Then she boosted herself on her tip-toes and kissed him. He returned it with a servo on her hip and a smile.

"You like?"

"Ratchet, I love it." She bit her ip before adding. "I love you."

"(Name)." Ratchet grinned. "I love you, too."