Ratchet worked on the scout for hours without pause, with Optimus at his side, fetching what he needed, and helping him where he needed help. It took a great deal of work to fix the scout's main appearance, but it took everything Ratchet had as a doctor to repair the gaping hole in his throat, after creating the best voicebox he could manage, and inserting it. Finally, the scout was stabilized, had a rapid flow of energon, looked presentable, and would be functional when he awakened. The voicebox however, it was unclear how his speech would manage, after the damage that had been done. When he was finished, Ratchet was tired and dull, staring at his patient with dim optics, hoping he had done well.

A servo rested on his shoulder, while another offered him an energon cube. He looked up at Optimus, who gave a weak smile.

"You've done well." The Prime put the energon cube in his servo. "We are fortunate to have you."

Ratchet stared at the energon cube in his servo, with dull optics. "I'm going onto the field as a medic." He said quietly after a few seconds. "It's a good way to be useful during this war."

A shocked look came to Optimus's faceplate, and he gazed down at his mate with rather hurt optics. "Ratchet... you do know how dangerous that will be. What about the sparkling?"

"The sparkling will be fine, and yes, I know of the dangers. It's my job as a medic in a war. I know when I'm needed." Ratchet refused to take no as an answer.

"Your certain it's what you want?"

"Yes, Optimus... I'm certain." Ratchet reached and touched Optimus's upper arm, wearing a weak smile. "I'll be fine."

A cough snapped their attention to the scout, who's round optics slowly started to flicker on.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a series of beeps came out, readable, but a little more difficult to understand.

::Ugh... wh-where am I?:: The scout asked, before stopping dead, his optics becoming dull, as he reached up and touched his new voicebox with his servo. ::Is that... my voice?::

"Yes... I'm sorry... your voicebox was torn out, this was the best I could do to repair you..." Ratchet replied quietly, shame thoroughly laced in his words. "You were badly damaged, and-"

::I know what happened.:: The scout covered his faceplate with his servos, which snapped Ratchet's spark in two. ::I was captured and interrogated... when I didn't give, Megatron ripped out my voicebox, and left me for scrap. That glitch! I'll see the end of him, that's for sure!::

"Megatron did this to you?" Optimus asked, a sympathetic look on his face. "I apologize, for the damage that has been done."

::You don't have to apologize... and, thank you, for helping me.:: He said, removing his servos and looking at Ratchet, with sad optics. ::My name is Bumblebee.::

"I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, and this is my medic, Ratchet." Optimus introduced them as well. "Welcome to our headquarters."

::Thank you for your hospitality.::

"Sir?" A soldier came running up, breathing hard, and looking panicked, as he skidded to a stop before Optimus. "Iacon is under attack, estimated six wounded."

The Prime turned on his heel immediately and called out to some soldiers, his expression suddenly becoming grim. "Autobots, prepare for battle!" He stopped, turned, and looked at Ratchet. "You'll treat the wounded?"

Ratchet nodded. "Yes."

"We're ready, Sir."

"Autobots, roll out!"

~~

The scene was chaotic and horrifying, when the Autobots arrived, Iacon was in heavy flames, falling apart, while Decepticon soldiers tore apart anything they came across, ravaging the area, laying waste to the place that so many were so familiar with. Ratchet had managed to reach one of the wounded, and drag him out of the way as the Autobots charged and began fending off the threat.

The mech had a terrible gash in his shoulder, and was leaking terribly. Luckily, the gash was easily sealed by Ratchet's handiwork, and the medic had soldiers transporting him to headquarters immediately. Now for the other five.

Ratchet searched the area as the fighting began and continued, dodging flaming objects, avoiding crazed soldiers, when his gaze met a very gruesome scene.

The second of the six wounded wasn't even an adult, not even in her teen cycles, she was but a child, too young to even hear about the battlefield. Her left shoulder, along with the limb, was missing, she was caked in energon, and there was a gaping hole in her chestplating, her sparkchamber.

Ratchet's spark stopped, and he immediately dropped to his knees at her side and grabbed her wrist, desperately feeling for a pulse. Nothing.

The medic recoiled as if he had been struck, a servo instinctively resting over his middle, a nauseous feeling rising in his tanks. The child had been terminated. He slowly rose to his peds, breath shaking and spark pounding.

I have to keep going... Ratchet told himself, tearing his gaze from the terrible scene, and hurried on through the battlefield, in continous search for the remainder of the wounded mechs.

He eventually found two more mechs, huddled together, sheltered under some fallen debris, one with a hurt leg and the other with a damaged arm. Ratchet did what he could to patch them up before sending them to soldiers that would escort them to headquarters, which was what his job was.

Ratchet was rounding around the corner of Iacon, well out of view of Autobot or Decepticon soldiers alike, when, quite suddenly, something sharp flicked up the back of his calf, leaving a long, thin line of energon. Ratchet yelped and reached down to hold the cut, energon leaking onto his servos.

"Well, well. An unarmed Autobot astray from the rest. Quite unfortunate, for you, I must say." A mech's voice taunted from behind.

Another mech laughed. "Not the wisest of choices, let's teach 'em a lesson about running around alone with Decepticons around..."

No lesson required, goodbye. Ratchet closed his optics and held his breath, stiffening. Slowly, he turned around to face the mechs.

There were three, one with a green paintjob, one with blue, and one with black. They all stood, smirking, weapons drawn, Decepticon symbols shining bright on their chestplates.

"Why does he look familiar?" The green one asked, looking him over.

The black one tilted his helm and examined Ratchet's details himself, optics dull with thought.

"He's Prime's mate, isn't he?" The blue one spoke up.

"What? No..." The black one came closer, taking Ratchet's chin in a rough servo, forcing their gazes to meet. Ratchet growled in warning, before jerking his helm away and taking a step back in response. "Well damn me to the Pits, it is him." The mech murmured, his smirk growing bigger, optics gleaming with malice.

"Bet the bots would pay some real credits for 'em." The green one snickered, striding over and beginning to circle Ratchet, scanning his details.

"Prime would be devastated if something were to happen to his precious mate," the blue one added, smirking big.

Oh Primus, I can't be getting taken by Decepticons again already... Ratchet bit his bottom lip, and began to step back, panic arising in his spark.

"Ah ah, you can't be leaving now, can we?" In a quick movement the black mech took Ratchet's wrist and pulled him back forcefully.

"L-Let me go!" Ratchet yelped, trying to pull back, with no avail. The size comparison was rather disappointing, once again he was up against a Decepticon that had a huge height advantage.

The mech laughed. "Let's move out, mechs."

The green one grabbed a chain from who knows where, and wrapped it around one of Ratchet's wrists, despite the medic's struggles, and the black mech helped chain his other wrist, tightening them behind his back, probably tighter than necessary.

"So where's your mate, Autobot?" The black mech took Ratchet's chin in his servo again, smiling down at him. Ratchet didn't pull away, only glared up at the mech with cold optics. The mech smirked, before reaching down with his other servo and running his digit tips over Ratchet's middle, his unfamiliar touch sending waves of discomfort through the medic and bringing a nervous look to his optics.

"When are you due?" He whispered teasingly.

"Frag off." Ratchet replied fiercely, in a strong tone. "And don't touch me."

The mech laughed a deep, menacing laugh. "And what if I do?"

"Then you will face the consequences." A deep voice made the mech freeze, as well as the other two. Fear crept it's way into the mech's optics.

"Optimus..." Ratchet sighed in relief, a smile coming to his lips. The mech withdrew his servo from Ratchet's middle, and he slowly turned to face the Prime, who looked thoroughly ticked off.

"Have you been harmed in any way?" Optimus asked the medic, his blade drawn and a steady glare on the three mechs.

"No." Ratchet replied. "They were planning on it, though."

"We would never dream of it!" The black mech spoke up quickly, and defensively.

"W-We were only messing around! We weren't really gonna hurt him!" The green mech added, nodding desperately.

Optimus narrowed his optics and stepped up to Ratchet, causing the three mechs to back away.

"You ever come near him or my sparkling again, I will not tolerate any of it." He said sternly and threateningly. "Go."

The three mechs ran desperately, like sparklings, shouting and screaming in terror. It was quite the comical scene, brought a smile to Ratchet.

Optimus used his blade to cut the chains around Ratchet's wrists, a relieved look on his face. "I was worried."

"I need to stop becoming prisoner to the enemy." Ratchet sighed, before looking up at the Prime with warm optics. "You've rescued me again. How do you do it?"

The Prime tilted his helm slightly, smiling a little. "I merely fight for what's mine." He then scooped Ratchet up (bridal style) and carried him back around the corner, which alarmed the medic, who was blushing like mad.

"O-Optimus what are you doing?" Ratchet sputtered, cheeks pink. "Somebody's going to see..."

"Your so easy to carry." Optimus observed, smiling down at him.

"I don't know if that's a compliment or not." Ratchet raised an optic ridge.

"Neither do I." The Prime kissed his cheek. "Let's go home, Ratchet."