The wounds, both physical and mental, in both Ratchet and Jennie, had healed well over the next couple of weeks.

Jennie still had a limp, a good amount of pain, and a series of permanent scars that she would have to live with. Mentally, she had healed. She had her guardian to thank for that.

Ratchet had his own couple scars, and a small amount of soreness. His shoulder still ached from the dislocation, which made transforming and lifting a terrible experience. Luckily, as a medic with no firepower and a lot of work to do, he rarely left the base and rarely had to do heavy work.

Of course, for the others, it was the opposite.

Optimus had been cleared for duty, and was back on the field. The intake of energon was much better now that the Decepticons weren't collecting half of their supplies, and the Autobots were alright on fuel again.

Everything was fine.

"Don't pick that up."

"Jennie, I'm fine."

"I watched Megatron violently dislocate your shoulder, have listened to you whine about how much it hurts, and now I'm watching you potentially make it worse."

Ratchet looked up at the platform his charge stood on from his position, kneeling before a large box. "It's one container, Jennie. I can handle it."

"Have one of the others move it when they get back." She insisted.

"Optimus, Bulkhead and Arcee are collecting energon from a mine, and probably dealing with resistence and battle in the process, and Bumblebee just left for a scouting mission. Nobody is going to be back for hours." Ratchet shook his helm, venting. "I need it moved, I need space for the tests I'm about to run."

Jennie whined in complaint. "Ratchet... Please? Listen to me? Because I care?" She leaned against the railing to get a better view over him.

His gaze met hers for a moment, and they both stared at each other, trying to win one over without verbal arguments. Jennie tilted her head a little to add guilt as an emphasis, eyes pleading mercilessly. Ratchet gave a sigh of defeat.

"Fine." He stood, dusting his knees off, before walking over to the monitors. "I suppose I can make it work otherwise."

A huge smile came to Jennie's face. "Thank you Ratch!" She beamed. "You are such a good listener."

"Hush." Her guardian muttered, as he went to work.

Jennie walked along the railing until she was beside the screen. "So, what tests are ya runnin'?"

Ratchet glanced from the screen to her. "Ever since the scraplet attack, every so often, I've had to-"

The monitor went off mid-sentence, a loud, high pitched beep going off every two seconds or so. Jennie, being so close to the monitor, stumbled away holding her ears and whining in complaint. Ratchet set his jaw and went to disabling the horrid noise, and opening the alarm that it came with.

Jennie sighed in relief as it ceased, hands falling to her sides. "What is it?"

Her guardian squinted in disbelief at the signal for a moment before answering. "An Autobot emergency beacon... It appears to be entirely new, too. Normally this means offworld 'bots are coming in with injuries or massive damage to them or their vessel. But," he straightened up and looked at her. "Decepticons are known to bait traps this way. It's not something to walk into alone."

"You should call Optimus." Jennie suggested.

"Optimus is indulged in a task that I can't pull him out of. Bumblebee, however..." Ratchet nodded slowly. "I can call him back to base, and we can handle the situation." He went to typing. "We must act fast, though... There could be Autobots in danger." Bumblebee's signal popped up on the screen as Ratchet pinpointed it. And near it, a small bundle of Decepticon signals. "Scrap!" Ratchet muttered in annoyance, accessing the com unit. "Bumblebee, about three kliks north, there's about four Decepticon signals. They are likely scouting for energon as well, so the assumption that they are just drones is safe to assume." He said quickly, watching the screen intently. "There must be energon nearby. Keep a lookout."

Bumblebee commed back a whirr of appreciation.

"But what about the distress signal?" Jennie asked skeptically.

Ratchet vented, rubbing his temple. "There could be Autobots in distress... But the risk of it being a trap... We can't wait, and I can't bridge Bumblebee back without risking the vehicons following through."

"I don't like where this is going."

"I need you to use Rafael's laptop. I will investigate, but will do so from a distance. If it turns out to be a trap, or if any type of danger reveals itself, I will call for backup the moment I am aware. I need you to be ready to bridge me back immediately." He instructed, picking up a medical kit. "Understand?"

Jennie shook her head. "Ratchet, don't... You said it yourself... It could be a trap."

"I can't risk it being Autobots in danger." Ratchet insisted with a sigh, entering coordinates and opening a bridge. "It'll be fine, Jennie."

She watched him with doubt and fear as he stepped through the bridge.

On the other side of the bridge, was a thick blanket of fog weaving between dark trees, beneath grey skies. Ratchet tensed at the tone his surroundings set, unable to suppress a shiver. The signal was just up ahead, through the white. He inhaled deeply, slowly stepping forward, towards the signal. The frigid air made his exhales puff out in front of him in small clouds.

It was freezing, and eerie.

It was so... Silent.

If it were an Autobot emergency, there would be noise. Lights. Something.

This was a bad idea.

Ratchet turned around to go back in the direction he came, but just as he reached to activate his com link, a few- maybe four, or more, he couldn't tell- sharp rods suddenly jabbed into various parts of his front. Before he could react, they crackled to life with electricity, thus sent waves through him, drawing a scream of pain. The electrocution lasted for a few moments before the prods were withdrawn, and Ratchet collapsed, gasping, barely conscious. Through blurred, dizzy vision, he could barely make out the figures of the humans wielding the prods.

Scrap.

Ratchet tried to move, but his entire frame ached, and he suddenly felt so exhausted...

"This is what, only the second time we've seen this one?"

"I was expecting a more common 'bot... Or more than one."

He was hardly able to listen to them, far too focused on regaining his strength. However, the next recognizable voice, made him freeze.

"He's still conscious. Hit him with another round, and get ready for transport."

Silas.

M.E.C.H.

Not good.

"Alright, sir."

Not good at all.

The electricity suddenly hit him again, jolting him from his thoughts and into a moment of agony.

Then, there was just darkness.

Frag, my shoulder...

I must have strained it when I-

Oh scrap.

Ratchet's optics jerked open, and he made to move, but his intentions were halted by restraints keeping his frame tightened to the floor. He pulled at the restraints on his wrists hopefully... Perhaps there was a chance of him breaking out...

How can humans bind this so fragging tight...

Nothing.

His ankles couldn't break out either.

Frag.

Ratchet took that chance to take in his surroundings-

Intimidating drills and various other machinery surrounded him, and a few feet away was a ledge, with computers and monitors were lined along on a table. He recognized a picture of his entire frame with a series of notes on one of the screens, along with documentation of a couple other Autobots and a few Decepticons.

Definitely M.E.C.H.

He shivered, blinking his optics a few times. His systems were still rebooting from the sudden shut down... And now, that he was coming more and more into focus, he realized that his spark chamber had been opened, and was clamped tightly, forbidding closure. That sent a wave of anxiety through him. The vulnerable feeling of having his life source out exposed to foreign experiments...

How did they even-...

I don't want to know how they figured out how to get it open.

Ratchet's thoughts went to Breakdown. He was almost certain they had disabled his pain receptors when they had him... But his shoulder still hurt like frag, plus the aching from the electrocution... so they obviously decided against giving him the opportunity to go through this without pain.

Wonderful.

Fan-fragging-tastic.

"He's awake, Sir."

Oh no.

Silas stepped onto the platform and leaned against the railing, his gaze sweeping over Ratchet. "So he is." He nodded slowly, locking eyes with Ratchet for a moment before looking to his soldiers. "Begin."

No no no...

He tensed as he heard footsteps all around him, and the activation of machinery.

"Let's pull out the T-Cog now, in order to prevent any damage to it while we work." One of them suggested.

"He's conscious... It'll make a lot of noise."

"We're planning on taking out whatever makes them capable of speech, anyway. We'll do that next."

Like frag, your taking out my-

"A-Augh..." Ratchet tensed in his restraints, pulling desperately at the feeling of the tip of a thick blade digging into his side, preparing to make an incision above his T-Cog.

This is going to hurt.

A lot.

Say something.

Don't let them do this.

"W-Wait!" He exclaimed, before breaking into a pained shout as the incision began. He struggled to find something that would convince them to stop, but the pain overrode his thoughts too fast for him to act... His screams echoed through the room.

To add to it, he felt prodding at his spark. A couple of the soldiers had climbed into his sparkchamber, and were poking, and prodding, and-

"S-Stop! You don't h-have to do this!" Ratchet struggled to still himself. One wrong slip in his sparkchamber... One wrong move and he was gone. "I-I have another way!" He shrieked as the blade plunged deeper into is side, energon leaking onto the floor around him...

"Wait." He heard Silas say firmly. The blade stopped. Ratchet gasped in pain.
Silas narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, Autobot?" He asked slowly.

Ratchet gritted his denta. It couldn't be coming down to this...

A machine next to him, a drill, activated, and it's tip lowered down to  his neck. It turned on and began spinning madly, forcing Ratchet to look up and expose his throat willingly, to avoid his face being drilled on. He held his breath. The tip wasn't an inch from his throat...

Oh, Primus, no...

Silas appeared beside his helm then. "Answer, or we remove your voicebox, right now, and you'll be begging silently until we're finished with you."

Scrap.

Negotiate, now.

Ratchet squeezed his optics shut and shakily exhaled. "I... I w-will teach you... C-Cybertronian b-biology... You don't h-have to take me a-apart and risk m-making mistakes... and risk not g-getting a full understanding o-of it..." He forced out through gasps.

A smirk crossed Silas' lips. "M.E.C.H. doesn't make mistakes. I think we'll just take out that voicebox and open you up. I think that's as useful as you can be."

The drill moved just close enough to graze the cabling and let energon drip down his neck.

"I-I'm a doctor and s-scientist... I-I have an extensive knowledge on C-Cybertronians..." Ratchet whispered, wheezing a bit. "I c-can help... Better research... Better information..."

Silas blinked. "A scientist, eh?" He set his jaw. "Perhaps you could be useful... What's your name, Autobot?"

"R... Ratchet..."

"And how else can you be worth my while? How useful are you? What do we have to gain by sparing you your parts?"

I don't fragging know.

Ratchet sighed shakily, opening his optics and sending him a pleading look. He had no idea how to convince him he was useful...

"How valuable are you to the Autobots?"

"I-I..."

He was lost.

He had nothing, other than his offer to teach them rather than being taken apart.

Ratchet closed his optics, preparing himself for Silas to order his voicebox's removal.

This is going to hurt.

So. Fragging. Much.

"Perhaps I'll have a chat with Optimus Prime and see exactly how valuable you are."

Do it human. Tell him where I am so I can be rescued...

"Or I'll just have them drill out your throat."

Ugh.

Perhaps this can work...

"I... I'm the only medic... A-And... Optimus' best friend..." Ratchet hated using his friendship with his leader as a way to increase his value... The feeling was utterly horrible. But he wasn't going to let M.E.C.H. take him apart.

Silas raised an eyebrow. "Huh... Well, I do suppose you are useful, as a doctor and a scientist."

The blade in his side, and the drill at his throat, both withdrew.

Ratchet gasped in pain and relief, before Silas roughly shoved his cheek to get his attention.

"I want to know everything. Now."

"A... Alright..."