Not Zippy

[ ✘ ] Ratchet read the single word and turned off the datapad. Setting it aside, he vented heavily. He wasn’t sure if he was going to get Blurr in trouble if he left his “bunker” just to see him. Where was Blurr, anyway ? He assumed he’d be in the facility where he was revived, or maybe he thought he was still on Earth. But Earth, really ?

[ ✘ ] He shook his helm and vented as he rested his cheek in one servo, glancing off to the side in deep thought. This would be perhaps the firstactual conversation outside of his team in… Forever, really. His optics closed as he took a moment to think things over.

[ ✘ ] What could possibly go wrong, right ? Nothing. At least he hoped nothing would go wrong. It was just a doctor seeing how someone was doing. After all, Blurr just came back from the dead, although he didn’t know how long ago he was repaired. He was… worried for him ?

[ ✘ ] He figured he might as well get some shut eye and try to sleep the anxiety away. And if that fails, he’ll most likely get some work done, if there was any work to do in the first place.

[ ✘ ] He stood, pushing the chair aside and started to head towards his small quarters to see if he really did want to get some sleep. He’d find out soon enough.

ϟ|| Blurr would lying if he said he wasn’t at least the slightest bit nervous. Just even thinking of leaving the safety of the “bunker” would get him scolded, but actually going out and leaving? He was sure he would get some heavy form of repercussion. But he would take it, whatever he could of it really. After all, he hadn’t seen a real doctor in so long. Perceptor was a scientist, and while he knew a great extent on how the body works and how makes up how they functioned, Perceptor would be able to perform open spark surgery. He needed to see a medic, a real medic. Just to be sure everything on his insides were alright. 

ϟ|| Not like he had any real reason to be concerned about his health. But he knew that getting a check up would be for the best, to ensure that he would be in the best shape, there were surprises at every corner in this life, and he wanted to be prepared, always. That’s all he was really seeing this as, a simple trip to the good doctor, make sure his cogs all wind up the proper way, and that there was nothing wrong with him in his processor. Being a soldier took a heavy toll on the brain, and you always have to be not only physically strong, but mentally as well. 

ϟ|| Blurr was never really a socializing bot anyways. Sure he liked attention quite a lot, he was well known, but as a member of the Elite Guard, his work came before anything else. It was funny to think of, considering his last known memory with Ratchet, he didn’t really learn much of his personality, or his likes, dislikes. Despite being there for a short time, he realized he really knew almost nothing about him. At least, he knew what the files and databases told him, but files could only give so much information. 

ϟ|| Perhaps this trip wouldn’t be all bad. Not only would he get a proper check up, but he would be able to learn more, supply the files with new and accurate information. For later use.

ϟ|| The trip would take about a day’s travel, since he didn’t have access to a space bridge. Enduing stasis, he soon awoke a few hours later, entering Earth’s atmosphere. He never really did get to appreciate the beauty of this world, not like Jazz did. In fact he was almost a bit...jealous. His ship began to guide him through the set coordinates given to him by the medic, and thought that now would be a good time to contact the Autobot, letting him know he wouldn’t be far the destination point soon. 

|Nearingdestination. Iawaityourarrival.|

[ ✘ ] Ratchet, by now, was possibly having second thoughts as he started to tap the datapad on the flat surface of the table. Is this really a good idea ? What if something goes wrong. What if it isn’t really Blurr ? What if he’s being sent for recon ? Shit… His mind was clouded and he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to see how Blurr was physically. He was starting to doubt himself.

[ ✘ ] But he shook his helm and vented heavily, his digits moving carefully as he moved to start and type in the co-ordinates of a small plot of farmland nearby, where an old barn stood, unused for several years. Maybe that would be a good place.

[ ✘ ] Upon hitting send, he felt the overwhelming nervousness wash over him again. But it was too late to turn back now. What was done, was done.

| Hope the location is alright. This is my frequency as well– | he typed it in | –just let me know when you get close so I can head out. |

[ ✘ ] After sending that, he vented heavily and set down the datapad, taking a moment to collect his emotions and to get them in check before he looked down at the plexiglass surface, waiting for a confirmation reply.

ϟ|| Breaking protocol. That was something that was rather risky. Something that he never once crossed his mind in doing. Lucky for him, he still had emotions, he could still think for himself in a compassionate way. Dozens of thoughts raced through his processor at once. All the possible positives that could come out of this, and all the negatives. The negatives seemed much great than that of the positives. Then again, he had already agreed to meet up by requesting the coordinates. He sighed heavily. It seemed as though this time, despite the handful of negatives he would be breaking protocol. 

ϟ|| It would be dangerous, trying to figure out how to get out of the “bunker” without being noticed by his superior, but it seemed to be a risk worth taking. He hadn’t seen anyone from Optimus Prime’s team in so long, in fact he hadn’t really been able to get into contact with anyone else for so long besides Perceptor. But he really only came to give him upgrades and check on his systems. He never really did stay long to chat. Not that he found much amusement in chatting anyways. 

ϟ|| It was like talking to a machine. Ironic enough as it was. 

|Understood.| 

ϟ|| Another simple reply. He seemed as formal as ever, and very business focused as ever too. As if this was some kind of mission he was going to be sent on. He was an intelligence agent, his main job was to gather information on whatever he could. 

[ ✘ ] Ratchet took a moment as he broke down the reply, having moved to rest the datapad onto a table and to sit down in the old chair. It squeaked and groaned in protest as he rested his arms on the table and held the datapad in his thick digits.

[ ✘ ] It was true, Ratchet wasn’t one for conversation with anyone anymore because no one really listened to him. He avoided it with anyone, to be quite honest, and Bee wasn’t the best at socializing. Young and Old didn’t always click. Usually the only one he held a decent conversation with was with Prowl.

[ ✘ ] Just what was going on over there… ? Secret bunker ? He was pretty sure Blurr wasn’t supposed to say anything about that, but… He couldn’t help but become curious.

           | Huh. Secret Bunker ? Well, at least you’re in good servos. |

[ ✘ ]  He paused for a moment before he sighed, what else could he say ? He wasn’t really used to holding a conversation.

| This is… Going to sound strange, but do you think we could meet up ? I’d like to check you over to ensure that you’re properly took together. |

[ ✘ ]  He wouldn’t admit that he just wanted some company. It was always him alone in the base, no one to really talk to. Or anyone to pester him. It was pretty lonely these days…

ϟ|| After having re-read his last sent message, the blue speedster gave himself a good bonk on the helm with his datapad. How could he let that slip out?! That was confidential information, and he could get into serious trouble for even mentioning it! 

ϟ|| He sighed, grumbling something to himself under his breath, trying to stay as quiet as he could was hard when he had the urge to thrash about angrily. He was hoping Ratchet wouldn’t catch his little slip up, but when the new message came in, he knew there was no way he could cover that up.

ϟ|| His nervous digits tapped against the rim of the datapad, as he watched the new message appear. He wondered if Perceptor would be cross with him for taking his datapad, not like he could feel anger anymore, but surely he would scold him with that bland emotionless faceplate. 

|Yesgoodservosindeed.|

ϟ|| If that’s what you wanted to call it anyways....at least he was alive. His frame stiffened when he saw the mention of meeting up. He quickly looked around, making sure he was alone. Protocall called that he needed permission from his senior officer, but he was no where to be found, and he hadn’t been allowed outside of the bunker since...well since he had first arrived. No doubt he wouldn’t be allowed to go.  But he was intrigued. 

[ ✘ ] Ratchet took a moment to stare at the datapad after the message got sent back, making him quirk a brow at the… long message that was returned. Well, that was something he was familiar with. He was actually wondering what happened after their last encounter. Their message was cut off, he couldn’t even reach the datapad he talked to him with.

[ ✘ ] Hearing about what happened to Perceptor saddened him, but he knew if it was what he wanted to do, it was his choice. He couldn’t change his mind and he knew Perceptor had a love for knowledge so he wouldn’t argue with that. He just hoped he wouldn’t suddenly shorten out from the overwhelming amount of knowledge. [ ✘ ] Regardless, he took a small intake, he sighed heavily through his mouth and read the message a few times to try and understand what was being said. No doubt he should have gotten used to it by now, but with a small break in between, it would take a small moment to get back into it.                                    | Well, hello to you too, Blurr. I guess you can just tell Perceptor that I need some help with a formula.|

[ ✘ ] He sent it before he started to type more and sent it back before Blurr would have a chance to put the datapad down.                         

                                  | Hey, Blurr. How are you doing ? I haven’t heard from you in a while, I got a little worried. Everything alright ? |

ϟ|| Almost instantly, the speedester’s mind began racing. Which was rather fitting considering his line of work and personality. It was to be expected really. How odd would it be to have a mecha who’s lips moved just as fast as his legs did, and not have an equally fast paced mind? 

ϟ|| Blurr had remembered Ratchet as a rather antisocial medic, a brilliant medic at that, but from his last encounter, he didn’t exactly see the medic in much action, you would think that even despite the war being over, medics would still be in high demand. But not Ratchet, he recalled him staying at base, tinkering. If anything he worked as a control manager, monitoring all communications. Hardly a job fit for a field medic. 

ϟ|| The blue mech was surprised that the grumpy bot would want to actually engage in a conversation. Surprised that he even responded at all. Memory recalls that he wasn’t exactly fond for speedsters, especially yellow ones, but still, he had assumed that he would have the same attitude towards Blurr. He was expecting that he was in need of Perceptor and Perceptor alone. Where was Perceptor anyways? Hadn’t seen him in some time... He’d have to remind him when he saw the scientist, that his expertise was needed. 

ϟ|| He found it a bit comical. How easily he was able to distinguish just who he was talking to. By this point Blurr was curled up under table, to respond to the messages in secrecy. He coudn’t be caught breaking protocol. 

|IwillinformPerceotorthatyouareinneedofhisassitanceassoonaspossible.| 

The message was rather straight forward, almost hinting as if he wasn’t really in the mood to entertain. His optic flickered slightly, before he continued the conversation. 

Mission Update: Current Status: Compromised.

[ ✘ ] … he thought aloud as he held the datapad loosely in his servos. He hadn’t really contacted anyone outside of the base in… Well, forever, really. The last person he made contact with was Percy and even then he didn’t have much to say.

[ ✘ ] But now he was in another slump, trying to figure out an equation to a medical bug he had found, and he knew Perceptor would know right off the bat the answer to the missing link. He was a talented and smart mecha. Ratchet would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of his intelligence and where it landed him. And here he was, stuck on Earth with a tiny squad who hardly even noticed he was there.

[ ✘ ] Well, they knew he was there, but he was pretty much just out on the side-lines doing who-knows-what. Bee wouldn’t shut up about the key, Optimus wouldn’t shut up about Megatron, Prowl wouldn’t shut up about meditation and Bulkhead… Well, Bulkhead was alright, except when he knocked things over on accident when he’d bump into his work station.

[ ✘ ] Anyway, Ratchet stared at the datapad, wondering who would answer since no doubt Percy would leave his datapad where it shouldn’t be. Taking a deep intake, the old war veteran brought up Percy’s personal line and started to type up something, hitting send before he could have a second thought to what he was doing.

                                | Hello, Perceptor, it’s been a while and I apologize for     not writing to you sooner. I have a small question to ask of you, so respond whenever you’ve got the time. Thanks, Ratchet. |

ϟ|| The remarkably intelligent scientist sure did leave his datapads in the strangest of places, but that really was the least of his worries. After having observed the behavior of the mech, it really wasn’t something that would be all that surprising. 

  ϟ|| After all, deleting your emotions in order to make more room for equations and formulas does that to you. All Perceptor cared about was work. Work in the morning, work at night, and then a small break to recharge, and then the whole cycle would continue. It was a rather distributing thing to watch. Just the thought alone would send chills up any decent Cybertronian. 

ϟ|| This time, the datapad was leaning against the leg of table, it would have gone completely unnoticed had it not been for the small vibration and buzz that went off when it was notified that a message was received. 

ϟ|| It wasn’t necessarily addressed to him, but that didn’t stop the intelligence agent, Blurr, from picking up the pad and swiping the message open quickly, reading through the message. Autobot Ratchet. War Veteran, and field medic, currently stationed with Optimus Prime’s Space Bridge repair crew on planet Earth. From what he had read on the databases, Ratchet was a hard working, medic, and a hell of a good one at that. Interesting. Could be of use.  If memory served correctly, the two hadn’t spoken since....the accident.