#ptsd?

A/N: (“Spoken Neocybex when humans are around”)

Ratchet wouldn’t say that he wasn’t intrigued by Starstrike’s appearance. The first thing he noticed was how different she was from a typical Cybertronian. Her pedes were talons with large sharp claws. Something that could easily rip a mech apart with ease. Did Ratchet feel threatened? No, he had seen and been in much more dangerous situations to be threatened by mere talons. Startstrike’s biology was instead quite fascinating. 

Everything about Starstrike’s physique screamed familiar yet alien at the same time. Judging from her plating, she was no ordinary avianoid to say the least. Also, seeing that she wasn’t only covered in feather like plating but also streamlined pieces of plating just like the others further suggested her to most likely a halfling of some sorts.

Starstrike’s heavily adorned helm didn’t phase Ratchet since many high caste Cybertronians usually sported sometimes even impractical helm shapes just in the name of fashion or whatnot. He had sometimes even gotten some high caste patients just because of their unnecessarily flashy helm designs. What really caught Ratchet’s optics was the fact that the entirety of Starstrike’s frame seemed to be glowing. Not in the way that she was reflecting the silos lights kind of way, though he didn’t deny the fact that the plating did also do that. Ratchet rolled his optics at the thought. 

It was the fact that she seemed to be emitting light from within her. It was just hard to spot due to the silos bright lights, but alas, nothing escaped Ratchet’s observant optics. Starstrike was shifting both pairs of her wings. The bird-like ones were fiddling with the seeker wings though her faceplate stayed composed and neutral. Her finials were flicking every now and then as if she was listening to more than the ongoing conversation of Optimus introducing her to Fowler. Ratchet was so engrossed with his observation that he didn't notice Starstrike staring back straight into his spark. Starstrike’s helm was slightly tilted towards the medbay, her optics slightly narrowed and lipplates mildly pursed. Her helm ever so slightly hunched to her shoulderplates. Ratchet blinked his optics a few times. 

Has Starstrike noticed him? For a split second Starstrike was staring back at him but once he took another look, Starstrike's attention had already vanished from him as she was back to staring at Fowler. 

“Are you two somehow related to each other?” Fowler suddenly asked. 

Ratchet could’ve spit out his energon upon hearing if he was drinking any at that moment. All Ratchet did was cough at the asked question. Primus Fowler! How dare you even ask that!? 

“I–I beg your finest pardon, Special Agent William Fow—” Well, at least Ratchet and Starstrike share one opinion although perhaps for different reasons. 

… 

Fowler had gone back to wherever he came from. Ratchet was doing some kind of hobby research. The children were chatting away with Starstrike. Miko was shooting one question at another and Starstrike did her best to answer them. Ratchet on the other servo was eavesdropping on them. Yes it was a bad habit when it was used in the base, but come on, the base is very echoey. Especially the main hall. The other’s had gone patrolling.

“So how long have ya been here on Earth now, Strikie? “ Miko chipped. 

Starstrike stopped to think for a moment. Her servo cupped her chin. 

“..Hmm.. For sixteen solar cycles– err days if today is included in the calculations,” she spoke gently. 

Starstrike was standing really close to the human area. Just about three metres away from the railing. ‘Why?’you most likely asked. To minimize the echo generated inside the base when there were two metallic titans and three intelligent organic beings of flesh.  

“So a little over two weeks then,” Jack figured.

Starstrike nodded. “...Indeed, Jack,” 

To the children, Starstrike’s voice was like a soft ray of sunshine after morning dew yet crystal clear. Not like Arcee, whose voice was as dry as sand. Rafael was still in awe of Starstrike's appearance. For him she looked more like a detailed angel-like porcelain doll than a metallic Cybertronian considering how everything including her hands– servos were smooth and pearlescent. There was nothing really that indicated that she was made of metal. Well, maybe the jet wings but even they looked more like slabs of energon from the way they were emitting a sheer glow. 

“So what did you do here before we came for you?” Jack inquired. 

Starstrike's optics widened and her finials perked up. “... Come for me?” she murmured. 

Come to think of it, Starstrike hadn't yet to even think about how she was discovered despite not emitting any signals whatsoever. She had just thought it to be pure happenstance but then sudden information from Jack gave proof of it to be otherwise. Perhaps she should ask the Prime in due time then. 

Starstrike blinked. “Ah, pardon me. Yes, to answer your question the first thing I ever did was recharge for a few days straight and then I just explored the Asian territory and the internet. I must say I quite enjoy your literature and the moving drawings of the Japanese territory,”

“Wait, you enjoy anime!? What's your fave series? No, what's your favorite genre?” Miko beamed. 

“Whoa Miko, too many questions at one time,” Jack teased and thus got punched in the arm and an eyeroll. 

Starstrike smiled in amusement. “Rest assured Jack. I was able to catch all the questions,”

“To answer your question Miko, I have yet to find my all time favorite,”

“Yeah! Totally get it. There's just so many good options to choose from,” 

Starstrike just smiled and nodded along. “The songs and soundtracks from them too are an enjoyed experience,”

“S-so uhm… How much of the internet h-have you scoured through?” Rafael slightly stuttered, fixing his glasses.

Starstrike’s optics grew gentle when she addressed Rafae smiling warmlyl “You could say that I have explored all the main directions of the wind, Little Chirpling”

Rafael’s eyes widened upon hearing the nickname.”Chirpling?”

Starstrike leaned closer to the railing. So close that only her faceplate could be seen. In Starstrike’s optics Rafael as the youngest of the three was just plain adorable with how squeaky his voice was compared to the other two. From his size alone sparked a protective instinct within her. Perhaps the innocence Rafael still had, that the other two grew out of, further stirred the protective coding within. 

“Oh! My apologies. I hope that I did not offend you, Rafael,” Starstrike's bird-like wings fidgeted with the jet wings. “It is just that your relatively tiny stature, pitch of voice and innocence just reminded me of our young,”

“My innocence?” Rafael wondered out loud. 

Even Miko and Jack raised their eyebrows at Starstrike's explanation. 

“Yes indeed, Rafael.. You still possess the type of pure curiosity that Miko, Jack and I have grown out of,” A slight hint of a smirk appeared on Starstrike's faceplate. “In addition, I simply find you absolutely adorable and the fluffy hair of yours,” she added a hint of giddyness in her voice. 

The two older teens snickered. Rafael pouted. “Come ooonn guys! I’m not that small and by the way I’m twelve,”

The longer Starstrike observed the more she had to restrain her urge of cooing at and caressing the small boy with her pinky digit. Despite resisting the urge, a churtling chirp escaped from her voicebox. The children’s attention went back to Starstrike, even Ratchet peeked from the medbay. 

“What was that?!” Miko squeaked.

“...A…” Starstrike seemed to realise what had just happened.”...Show of affection?...” she half mumbled. Her helm tilted sideways. 

“Did I…Cause an offence towards you?” Starstrike’s finials drooped. “I did not intend to do what I just did since we barely know each other, in addition, we have just met yesterday. This gesture is usually shown towards close friends. Yet I….” her voice got quieter with each word uttered. 

She wasn’t so desperate, right? Did she go too far? Not that she meant to be pushy. By now Starstrike’s faceplate was mere centimetres away from touching the railing. Her somber expression made young Rafael’s sympathy rise. He walked to Starstrike and put his hand on her faceplate in a comforting manner. 

Starstrike’s optics shined brighter for a short moment. Then her gaze grew even getler as Rafael’s hand lingered. 

“Yet you felt comfortable enough to do it among us even though we just met as you put it. Y’know sometimes some people just click together so I don’t think it’s strange, Strikie,” Rafael filled in. 

“Yeah Strikie, it’s not like we weren’t texting until 1 AM before goin’ to sleep,” Miko quipped. She then joined Rafael in petting Startrike.

“Yeah..Like I’m kinda honoured that you feel so comfortable around me, Miko and Raf,” Jack rubbed the back of his head.

Starstrike found it hard to fathom how accepting the three children were of her. They weren’t afraid of her despite their miniscule size compared to her massive frame. Even the fact that the three children were eager to meet her again warmed her spark since after the whole Special Agent Fowler-ordeal Miko had pestered her on what took her so long. Starstrike hadn’t expected for her and the children would have a mutual interest towards each other. A warm smile came on Starstrike’s faceplate. Despite how small Miko and Rafael’s hands were, their gesture was surprisingly comforting. Oh how she missed someone’s comforting touch though her frame was still aching. 

“You three have my gratitude,” Starstrike whispered since she was so close to the children. 

“Well duh, we are friends after all, Strikie” Miko chided.

Friends? Have they–Have already considered her as a friend??? Despite just barely knowing her? 

“T-truly?” 

“Yeah. I mean after getting to know you more it would be nice to be friends with you. If you don’t mind, of course,” Rafael said.

“It–it would be my honor” Yes, Starstrike had managed to befriend the three human children. 

Miko and Rafael stopped petting Starstrike. 

“Even though I may not be your guardian, know this that you have my utmost protection,” Starstrike declared.

OK. Ratchet had to admit that he had a hard time focusing on his research and kept peeking at Startrike from the medbay far too many times. Not only was it curiosity that prompted Ratchet but his observations on how Starstrike was positioning her frame during her interaction between the children. He noticed her shifting her weight back and forth. Her servos clenching into fists every so often and her bird-like wings readjusting their position anytime they started to slide down. Though to the untrained optics, her movements wouldn’t been noticed since they were so subtly done. In a manner as if she was trying to feign normalcy.

Of course Ratchet would notice since he has had experience a certain giant red and blue Autobot who would do his best to hide his ailment. Upon seeing Starstrike’s condition the memory of Starstrike’s wails  from Fowler’s audiofile echoed between his audials. Ratchet shuddered at the memory. The medic in him simply couldn’t have him leave Starstrike’s health unchecked. 

Ratchet sighed. Well I guess it can’t be helped. Ratchet simply had to momentarily leave his little research be. He exited the medbay and approached the human area. By then Starstrike had taken a little distance from the area, her helm wasn’t leaning on its railing anymore. Now she and the children were chatting, Miko was now recalling her adventures with Bulkhead. 

Once Ratchet reached the area, he noted to stop at good distance from Starstrike since it seemed that she had a certain apprehension towards him. Moreover, the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. Yet somehow he felt that his efforts were in vain because before he was even close enough to the human area, Starstrike’s whole frame went rigid. Her bird-like wings inched closer to her frame. Now the hard part for some reason was to get Starstrike’s attention without agitating her any further.

“Oh wazzup, Docbot?” Now this was one of the rare times Ratchet was grateful for the rowdy girl.

Starstrike turned towards Ratchet. Her faceplate bore a mask of rigid politeness. She also had her arms folded. Her bird-like wings inched even more around her.

“How may we be of assistance, Good Doctor?” 

(“Uh…I would like to know when was the last time you had your health checked?”)

“...” 

(“Starstrike?”) Ratchet asked hesitantly.

Starstrike wasn’t sure whether or not she should disclose her medical information. Her sparkbeat started to grow faster. Her servos squeezed her arms. Her audials started to ache and the base’s interior started to feel suffocating with the already pesky signal jammers to the outside world. When was it even the last time she even had her checkup? Six vorns ago? Well she was supposed to have her checkup four vorns ago but then the attack on Praxus postponed her checkup. Furthermore, why was the doctor interested anyway?

(“...May I know what is the purpose for this inquiry?”) Starstrike needed some grounds to determine whether or not she would tell Ratchet. 

(“Well, since you’re under our care, I would be responsible for repairing you if you were to injure yourself one way or another,”) Ratchet explained.

Well that made completely sense and typically it would be considered extremely unwise to lie to a medical professional of your condition anyway. Starstrike took a deep vent. 

(“Yes indeed. To answer your inquiry, Good Doctor,”) She cleared her voice box as she avoided optic contact.(“a good six vorns since my last checkup,”)

Six VORNS and not stellar cycles!? Ratchet couldn’t believe his audials. How could had this been possible? Having frequent checkups were still pretty relevant to young Cybertronians like Bee to monitor their growth.

(“Vorns?!”) Ratchet repeated.

Starstrike flinched from the sudden rise in volume her grip tightening on her arms.

(“Sorry. The length of time apart from your last appointment was more than expected,”) Ratchet’s voice grew gentler.

Starstrike only managed to stifly nod, her optics now trained on the doctor. Ratchet took a few careful steps closer, no quick moves, just calm and gentle steps. 

(“How are you feeling? I noticed that you looked a bit sore,”) Ratchet spoke gently. (“Starstrike, I think that I should check on your health just to make sure your’re—”)

(“Please no! I-I can–I am in good health, good doctor,” )

Startstrike’s venting was rapid as she cowered away from her previous spot, her claws revealed from her servos and her bird-like wings shielding her from the others, her optics wide. Feathers completely ruffled, her chassis could be clearly seen moving up and down. No! The Autobots were not a threat!.. Well for now. 

(“Please.. I-I.. No scans… “) A whimpering whisper escaped Starstrike's voicebox. 

Starstrike's polite mask began to crack but she persevered thus making her smile strained and awkward. Her optics portrayed a different story compared to the rest of her faceplate. Her grip on her arms tightened even more. The talons of her pedes dug into the concrete causing some cracks and holes into the floor. 

No. Ratchet simply cannot scan! What if she'd lose her safety under their roof? Beast... Abomination… “You'll be sold for a good price halfpet,” 

Ratchet on the other servo was at a loss for words. He ended up half-gawking at Starstrike. Why? How? How did a mere mention of a simple scanning cause such strife in Starstrike. Ratchet found himself unable to move towards. 

The base was eerily quiet. So much that the children did not notice that they were holding their breath until they heard and saw Optimus driving into the base. 

Once Optimus entered the base, he transformed into his bipedal mode. He looked around himself in confusion only to see a slightly panicked Ratchet and a terrified Little One– Starstrike. What on Cybertron happened? Optimus then heard the children sighing in relief. 

“What is going on here, Ratchet?“

Ratchet blinked and recomposed himself. 

(“Ah, Optimus. Yes, Ahem. At first, before you got here, I was asking some things regarding her health since she’d be under my medical care while she resides with us,”) Ratchet released a vent. 

(”Since it was so long since the last time she had been checked, I then offered to do a quick scan as she seemed a bit sore and that was what led to this situation,”) he gestured to the situation around them. 

Optimus nodded “I see, Ratchet,”

He then turned to the children, who then looked between Optimus, Starstrike and Ratchet, trying to grasp what was happening drowning in worry. 

Starstrike on the other servo was trying to make sense of what was happening. Her HUD was blaring red and orange notifications of impending danger and system overrides in her sensory department. It took all her might not to act upon her threat elimination programs. Instead she tried to recalibrate her sensory department but she couldn't find the focus. Oh and now the floor was ruined. Everything was ruined. They all probably now saw her as a threat since her claws were extended. 

Starstrike closed her optics since she couldn't see around herself anyway with the warning notifications blocking her vision. It was one thing to have two or three translucent notifications in front of you rather than a dozen stacked on top of each other in your HUD. Should she just reboot her systems? But being this vulnerable in front of people she has yet to fully trust? Not a chance! 

She must stay strong and persevere through the notifications and solve them manually. It was easier said than done. Since her vision was blocked, her other senses started to overcompensate. Especially her hearing and sense of touch had automatically gone overdrive upon a panicking discovery of the crude and thick signal blockers. It felt like sticking your hand into putty instead of a gentle absorption. The bounceback of her locating signals from the base irritated her audials.  

Purr..Purr..purr rrrrrrrrrrrr… no threat… Calm.. Safe.. Prrr.. Rrrrrrrr…focus.. Me..  The Matrix again? How? Wait, that must mean that the Prime has returned, right? Yes, there was no other option except for hallucination from this pain. With no other options, Starstrike yielded to the Matrix’ instructions. What other choices did she have anyway? She took a deep vent and concentrated her audial to the Matrix’ purring. Suddenly Starstrike was able to take control of her frame. She was no longer resisting the codes for threat elimination but able to recalibrate her sensory programming and generally just calm down. 

Optimus was now even more confused. The Matrix was now purring even louder when his optics were on Starstrike though it was not so loud that it penetrated his frame. It was just loud enough to disturb his thinking. It was like the Matrix was trying to calm her down. Optimus saw how Starstrike's finials started to twitch up and down following the Matrix’ rhythm. 

After a little while, the hydraulics and smooth silent purrs of cool could be heard as warm steam evaporated from Starstrike’s joints and other small crevices in her frame. Starstrike then collapsed to her knees panting. Her bird-like wings were caging her frame. Optimus turned to Ratchet who also observed intensely at what was happening with Starstrike. A strange worried hesitance consuming his frame. 

(“Starstrike, ”) Optimus approached her and crouched down. 

He extended his servo to comfort the agitated femme youngling only to have said youngling etch her wings further away from his servo. Optimus’ optics widened and optical ridges shot up. He hasn't yet to even reach Starstrike, yet she instantly backed away. By then the hum of the Matrix had dimmed down. 

The base was quiet except for Starstrike's slowing pants and heaves, no one dared to move. Ratchet especially did not dare to move an inch fearing that he'd worsen Starstrike's condition but his medical programming screamed at him to go and treat whatever was Starstrike's ailment. 

(“... Please—There is no need… I– I beg of you— I am quite aware..that this may not look like the case… but I… am… not unwell…just… tired..I beg of you…that there is no need for any scans”) Starstrike heaved. 

Well that was a load of scrap Ratchet has ever heard. There was no way she was ‘fine’. The way she acted for the mere mention of scans warranted that something was wrong. 

(“Not unwell!?”) snapped Ratchet. From that Starstrike flinched. 

Starstrike's flinching earned Ratchet a scolding stare from Optimus. 

(“Please believe me… I merely need a little rest,”) Starstrike lowered her wings revealing her faceplate while her piercingly pleading optics met Ratchet and Optimus’ optics.

Starstrike’s optics seemed to emit an even brighter glow than before. Well bright enough to be distinguished from the base’s bright lighting. Starstrike’s pleading gaze was so intense and what made it even worse to resist was the streaks of built up dried coolant at the edges of her optics and cheekplates. The sight was spark shattering for Optimus. He may have not understood what had happened but it seemed like succumbing to Starstrike’s wishes was wise despite her condition proving otherwise.

(“Have peace, Starstrike. Ratchet won’t take a scan of you,”) Optimus assured ever so gently. 

Sputtering of protest from Ratchet could be heard but were silenced when Optimus lifted his servo and gave a stern yet an assuring look of knowing what he was doing.

Optimus then returned his helm back to Starstrike with ever so gentle optics. For some reason it seemed even wiser for Optimus to almost whisper to Starstrike.

(“You are safe here…No one is going cause you any harm, Little One”) Yet again the too familiar nickname. An air of odd familiarity passed through Optimus. 

Not that he hasn’t ever interacted with sparklings and younglings during the war but this was like an ancient faraway gust of dusty familiarity. Flashes of the Iacon Archives and a blur of translucent shifting rainbow mass passed by Optimus’ optics. Optimus blinked. What was that? Well he would deal with it later. Now he had to focus on Starstrike. 

(“You have my greatest gratitudes, Prime”) Starstrike thanked as she wobbly rose up. 

She looked to her pedes and her bird-like wings and grimaced. Ugh! She would have to do some preening later after she rested. And the floor…Sweet energon cubes how shameful and embarrassing. Starstrike’s helm bent down.

(“I deeply apologize for ruining thine flooring. I am sure to fix the damage as soon as I am able to,) she mumbled guiltridden. 

(“Please do not concern yourself with the trouble for you must have not meant to cause such damage on purpose,”) the Prime comforted. 

Starstrike still kept her helm low. (“May I request permission to return to my quarters, oh virtueous Prime?”)

Optimus did not expect Starstrike to ask him permission to go back to her ship as if she was a soldier under his command out of the blue. How did she view him? Well that was a question that woul be later answered in due time. 

(“....Permission granted….”) Optimus replied.

(“If you do not mind, I woul like to escort you back, Litt–Starstrike”) he added.

(“Erm…I..I would hate to be a bother for surely you need your rest and with all your primely duties..it would simply be improper of me, Prime”) Starstrike staggered.

(“Please I insist, Starstrike. I can clearly see that you are barely able to walk properly. I fear that you might collapse again on your way to the ship,”) sincerity practically oozed out of the Prime’s gentle baritone voice.

(“...”) The Prime was simply too kind for her.

Why would he go out of his way to help her? Twinge of warmth engulfed Starstrike’s chassis. Only so few possessed such kindness on Cybertron. So few that she could count them with her digits.

(“If you insist then, who am I to resist the great act of such kindness from the kind Prime himself. My utmost gratitudes, the ever so kind Prime”)

(“Please, I am merely doing what I am supposed to,”) Optimus replied rather bashfully. 

Optimus then proceeded to escort Starstrike back to the ship.....

A/N: Well that was intense! What do you think would happen next?