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The hard lump pressed to Ratchet’s side started to move inside his protoform. It brought the medic out of staring at the wall, sitting in a heap on the floor.
His fingers traced the sparkling, like there would be a reaction to his presence. “Hush now, little one. You’ll be okay.” He tried using his systems to alert the sparkling, and get any feedback.
Feedback had not been attained for many Earth weeks. The Autobots started to give Ratchet space, and even tried to spend as much time away with the humans. Just so there wouldn’t be anything to upset their medic.
Optimus seemed to know most of all what was occurring. He would come close to try to feel the still stomach, earning a cold back to him at the attempts. There was apology, and he would try to pat his mate on the pack.
“This isn’t happening. I didn’t fail. I can do what Cybertron no longer can.” Ratchet refused to believe it was nothing but a glitch. The sparkling was just very small, and would need to be brought back with them meeting sparks. A simple procedure.
Ratchet put up his legs on either side of his frame, grunting from the sharp pains wracking his lower body. “I deserve it. I deserve to feel it.” The sparkling would have emerged around that time. “I failed my Prime. I couldn’t give him an heir. I ruined everything. If only I was younger. Stronger.” He slammed his fist back into the wall, gasping as the pop-up for emergence clouded his vision.
Ratchet shook at it, reading it carefully. The wording was off. Half the window was glitched down the side. “Nothing’s wrong.” He acted like he hadn’t checked his systems every single solar cycle, since the pain began. Since his sparkling no longer showed signs of a working spark. “I will hold her, and bring her back.”
Taking the top layer of wall down with his servo, Ratchet vented hard as he refused to turn off his pain receptors. Imagined every healthy carrier he’d brought to term.
Anything went wrong, and he’d have to comfort them in a trained voice. “These things happen. Primus doesn’t hate you. We are not infallible, like Vector Sigma.” Now it was for his own audials.
Pedes dragging the floor of the base off in chucks, he slammed his helm back to the wall. “Optimus will meet his sparkling. His only sparkling. I did this for him.” Then why was he crying tear fluid? If it wasn’t something he’d craved, before he’d even met Orion Pax in the first place.
“He deserves to be a sire! Stop thinking about yourself!” Ratchet screamed, the shoulders causing him trouble. He feared to look, already noticing the gray transfluid seeping around his pedes. “Just stop… thinking…”
When Ratchet noticed the sparkling nearly hit the ground, he reached under himself to hold her in his palms. “You’re so tiny. Nothing like a Prime.”
Bringing the body up in his arms, Ratchet crouched there, legs trembling. “It’s okay. I have you. I don’t think you’re hungry, though, are you?”
“I understand why you weren’t ready. I would be upset, knowing I’d look like my carrier, instead of my sire, too.” Ratchet tried to appease the still frame. Half of the armor did not attach completely towards the ends of the protoform, but he still smiled gently.
“I would’ve liked to bond with you. Don’t you know I needed that?” Spots of tear fluid got onto the gray form. “Medics don’t have sparklings for a reason. Nobot’s there to comfort us, when something like this happens.”
Ratchet flinched at feeling Optimus sit down next to him. He barely recognized his own mate. He hissed at a servo coming out to brush along her chevron, “Don’t touch her!” He realized who he spoke to, before finally looking over to the pity.
It was worse than that. Optimus realized that Ratchet held such a big secret from him, and tried to shield him from it. “I knew she was gone, after you stopped talking about her.”
“She’s so beautiful, Optimus. Had I not failed you… been a better carrier… She would’ve been happy to meet you.” Ratchet let himself lean against Optimus, his tired legs collapsing to lay in the puddle of muck his body expelled.
“You were exactly who she deserved to see, right when she opened her optics.” The blank optics stared back at them, watching their conversation. Optimus reached forward to close them, but Ratchet held a servo above his to avoid that occurring. “I apologize I was out, while you were in so much pain.”
“Are you not in pain?” Ratchet allowed Optimus to suddenly kiss him. “What was that for?” He let their forehelms touch, while he felt the shaking of his lover trying to hide the visible pain. “Oh, Optimus, I should’ve never talked you into this.”
“It was worth the try, Ratchet. It would be worth every try, because an Autobot doesn’t give up.” Optimus slowly took the sparkling from Ratchet’s grasp, “May I?”
Ratchet rested against Optimus, feeling warmer when he was sure he was not hated for what had occurred. He just couldn’t face the pain; not without Optimus.
Optimus held his sparkling up to his chest, and opened it to expose his Matrix. “I would like to think she’d react to this. Wishful thinking is not helpful, I know, but-“
“If it makes you feel better, Optimus, please do it. We’ll have to tell our future sparklings about her. The one who didn’t survive the war.” He let Optimus grab his helm with one servo, kissing him hard for the promise he made.
They would keep trying. Ratchet would allow it, as painful as it was to imagine seeing Optimus trying to revive a sparkling’s life again.
“Thank you, Optimus, for not hating me,” Ratchet mumbled, having to bring his servo out to run it along the Matrix.
“I could never hate you, old friend. Stress eats at us in ways we couldn’t begin to imagine,” Optimus sighed, slowly standing up with the sparkling. “Let’s get cleaned up. I can’t imagine you want to share this moment with the team.”
“They’ll want to know,” Ratchet whispered, “why she isn’t here.”
Holding their sparkling out to Ratchet, Optimus let his love cradle her. “You can tell them when you’re ready. I wouldn’t take that away from you.”
“Before she’s buried, may I rest with her?” Ratchet asked almost too quietly. “We’re- I’m very tired.”
Optimus walked them to his quarters, helping Ratchet into the oversized berth. “Is this alright? I didn’t want to assume you wanted to rest here.”
He backed away slowly, until he heard Ratchet start to break down crying in the dark. He couldn’t leave it like that.
Slipping in the berth, Optimus put his arms around Ratchet, letting tears fall onto his chassis. He made sure their sparkling was positioned between their chests, where they generally felt the most safe.
“What about the team?” Ratchet croaked out, realizing it was selfish to expect Optimus to stay by his side.
“You are what’s most important to me, Ratchet. You always have been. I will put my life on the line for my cause, but not at the cost of yours. We can make it up to the team, and explain everything, when you can leave this berth. For now, I want you to get rest. When you don’t need me right by your side, I will clean you. I know how sticky you feel right now.”
Ratchet cracked a little smile, opening his own chest to feel the connection with Optimus. “Is it wrong if I dream about her, and what her paint color would’ve been?” He already began to nod off, the Matrix soothing his pained spark enough to numb it.
“Beautiful red, and white, paint. And little spots where her medic symbols would be.” Optimus didn’t meant to make Ratchet upset again, but he couldn’t help his wants.
“I’m more partial to there being blue, myself,” Ratchet sighed, optics heavy. He smiled when he felt a servo stroking his arm. “You’re making me so warm, Optimus. Unless I popped something.”
“You’ll have to check, once you’re up.” Optimus didn’t move from his spot, watching over his family.
Ratchet furrowed his brow ridge, “You’re going to lay here, watching me? Are you that worried about leaving me alone?”
“Yes, Ratchet. I know what you’re like, when I’m not here to bring you out of your thoughts.” He traced transformation seams, trying to finally get Ratchet to fall into recharge.
“Mm, okay. Love you.” In his exhaustion, Ratchet shifted. The sparkling reflected in the window on Optimus’ chest plate.
“I love you, too,” Optimus whispered, nuzzling each of their helms. He pressed a kiss to the sparkling’s, hoping to know the warmth of a future sparkling returning the kiss with a happy squeak.