#that is debatable

when Optimus first is assigning the kids’s guardians, initially he was going to assign Jack to Ratchet. So what if Ratchet actually was his guardian?

What an interesting concept. I've always wondered how a swap up of guardians would have gone. Arcee certainly wouldn't have ended up as well off.

Ratchet & Jack

Ratchet had always been rather hostile toward the humans, even after years of interacting with military personnel. Optimus didn't blame him, but he did have a plan to rectify that hostility before it became detrimental. The children merely gave him the perfect opportunity to adjust and then implement that plan.

The children needed guardians, and while Arcee's mental state was worrying, her pain would pass with time. Ratchet's hostility however was a long brewing thing, a danger that needed to be dealt with. So even after Ratchet tried to reject the order, Optimus pressed and assigned Jack to Ratchet nonetheless. The medic was, simply put, not at all pleased.

Ratchet: Optimus! You can't be seriously assigning me a flesh bag to watch over on top of my work!?

Optimus: I am. You need the interaction.

Ratchet: How am I supposed to operate the groundbridge!?

Optimus: Arcee will take over that duty when required.

Ratchet: And what about repairs?!

Optimus: Both myself and Bumblebee have basic knowledge of medicine, enough to keep a mech alive until they can be seen by you.

Ratchet: .... This is outrageous.

Ratchet was not pleased and neither was Jack. Both hated each other with a passion simply because they were stuck together. More than once Ratchet dumped Jack in a box and left him there with a blanket like some stray cat while he went about his work. In retribution, Jack took to slapping stickers with all sorts of obscene things all over Ratchet's plating when the medic wasn't looking and then stealing his smaller tools.

For weeks they were practically at each other's throats, both going to Optimus daily to request separation. Of course Optimus said no, although his hopes in his plan were dwindling as time went on. The duo bickered like an old married couple, with Ratchet lamenting having to do anything for the boy and Jack hating being stuck with the medic. Jack suddenly gained a great deal of sympathy for women who tried to poison their spouses as Ratchet ranted and raved, grumbling all the while when he needed to pick Jack up (which was rare considering his alt-mode).

Whenever both could manage it, they would stay as far away from the other as possible. Jack even took to trying to hang around with Arcee instead of the prickly medic, an act that was not taken to kindly but reluctantly accepted by the two wheeler. He also did his best to only ride with Bee or Bulkhead so that he wouldn't have to piss off Ratchet more than necessary and be forced to listen to his lectures the next time he needed a pick up.

However with time, just as Optimus had predicted, the two developed a begrudging respect for the other. Ratchet saved Jack and the children from being crushed a handful of times. The medic took the time to assist Jack with his homework when the boy's procrastination got to him. And there was even an instance where he bailed the children out of school with his holoform when Miko got them all stuck in detention. In return Jack began actually taking the time to learn from his guardian, quickly picking up bits and pieces of Cybertronian medicine simply because he had nothing better to do. He also learned more of their history and gradually came to actually be a bit of an asset as Jack could offer up information only Ratchet generally had when needed.

Of course the duo never said anything about their slow acceptance of the other, but as their personalities began to clash less and instead work together, the team noticed.

Ratchet: *throwing a wrench at Bulkhead* Downright ridiculous! You tore a whole cable set in your left arm you buffoon!

Jack: And dislocated his right shoulder if the jutted plating is any indication.

Ratchet: EXACTLY!

Jack: Honestly you should be more careful. Stressing those joints too much could lead to deterioration further down the line.

Ratchet: Precisely! At least the HUMAN gets it!

After the incident with Unicron where Optimus was out for the count, they only grew closer in response to the stress. Jack began operating the groundbridge and dolling out basic medical advice while Ratchet worked to find their Prime and restore him. They became a real team, working together in tandem with Jack riding on Ratchet's shoulder to keep him up to date on things and to give a second opinion on things.

Jack even took to mimicking his guardian alongside Rafael once enough time had passed. He was never as bad as Rafael who might as well have been a human clone of the medic, save for their differing skillsets. But Jack certainly gained the stare of utter disappointment that Ratchet often bore down on any who displeased him. Jack also took to throwing things at offending bots as well, although mostly because it was the best way to get their attention. Together Ratchet and Jack became a terrifying force capable of dragging anyone, human or bot, back down to earth and in for a medical exam.

There were more than a few instances where Jack took to quietly watching the bots and reporting back to Ratchet with what he had seen since the team tended to overlook humans in base while focused. Then like a drug dealer, Ratchet would give Jack something he had been wanting and take the information and use it to drag bots over to his medical bay for any number of reasons. Optimus most of all wasn't safe. Jack was trained by the medic to notice signs of common aliments the Prime suffered and tried to hide. With this knowledge he would scurry to Ratchet the instant he noticed Optimus standing eerily still for too long or noticed his optics being unfocused.

Of course Jack also reported back on the others at Ratchet's behest. He was told how to notice when Bee's voice was bothering him, in which case Jack would as usual, tell Ratchet or silently slide over pain medication. He was taught to notice joint pain in Bulkhead who often tried to walk it off, earning him a visit from the doctor of doom once Jack informed the medic. And lastly he was trained to pick out when Arcee was having a bad day, in which case he would report and Ratchet would leave the two wheeler something nice to cheer her up.

The team knew Jack ratted them out, but no matter where they went or how hard they tried to hide their pains, Jack found out. If needed he would even get Miko and Rafael involved in helping him gather information. He would never admit it aloud, but he cared for the bots, especially more so after learning of their history and woes from Ratchet. If he could help, he would do so. And both Miko and Rafael were always spoiling to get into a little trouble and so happily aided Jack in his efforts when needed.

Ratchet: Report.

Jack: Arcee has a blaster wound she is hiding in her right leg. Bulkhead damaged his knuckle joints again. Bee seems fine but looks a little unsteady, and Optimus is, as always, dead on his pedes.

Ratchet: *patting Jack on the head like some evil mastermind* I see... good work. Take Bee some painkillers while I haul those resistant glitches into my medical bay.

Jack: I was already planning on it.

Sure, I don't look for validation, but at the same time it's nice to know people did enjoy my writing.

Four songs you've been listening to a lot lately

All She Wrote by SIX60 (they played it for us at their concert and it's been stuck in my head since but the song officially dropped today! Go listen!)

How Bad Can I Be? from The Lorax

Better Than Words by One Direction

The Chain by Fleetwood Mac

hungry, eyes green, searching for the vagrancies of vacancy, blunt-tipped fangs and black-tipped nails from all the bridges you’ve built and burnt. you say, I don’t care if I’m the villain. I say, I know, watching as you fade and fade within your smoke. you say, wouldn’t it be nice to know what’s real, eyes alight and filled with fire. hungry boy, lonely boy, clawing for omens in cigarette ash, dusty hair and dirt-streaked cheeks and soot in the place of sweat. you want to be marble but you feel like clay, like every unanswered prayer lost among the palace of the gods. no wonder you feel like stone when I hold you, no wonder you taste like charcoal, black streaks left on my polished skin. you want to be fire want to be light but you are what burns instead, and still you hold dynamite in your trembling hands.

someday, you say, to my breath and to my skin but not to me, someday I will be king. someday you will hold the kingdom of the gods in your hands, paint the sky red from all your warnings, be the first and final herald of judgement day. someday your blood will run blue and the air will not steam as you preach your only sermon. cold eyes, cold heart, cold skin stained grey by every forgotten word you think but do not say.

someday, you will be king, and I will want for nothing under your rule. I hold your trembling hands in mine say nothing as I trace your words against your palm. you cannot rule without want, I think but do not say. cannot conquer without war, cannot win without robbing another of the same spot. cold porcelain boy with your paper heart and marble crown— how does your neck not bend under the weight of all you want. fragile boy, foolish boy, you were not born this cold. you were not born to yearn for what you can’t have, to preach of a word that you know not.

okay, I say, fire-warm breath hot against your skin. your fingers skim my lips open fissures against my skin. I breathe out – feel them crack ever wider under the furnace of my breath.

if you are winter, then I am light if you are ice, then I am spring if you are my world, I am your north star and you will always find your heart pointing back to me. foolish boy, broken boy, always looking further than you can reach. you only know how to want, only know how to take. you see yourself a martyr, but here’s a secret for you, my hungry saint: prophets cannot preach without a god and your hands can only hold so much.

beastly boy, it is not so bad to be tamed.