Horny For Ratchet On Main

They really should have known this was going to go horribly. Arcee knew from the start that this was going to go horrible and well- scrap had hit the whirling device the moment they stepped out of the ground bridge. Bumblebee and Arcee were skilled combatants in their own ways but they weren’t exactly the heaviest hitters... or the most armored of the team. This kind of heavy fire wasn’t something either bot was built to withstand. However, the cybertronian signal that Ratchet picked up couldn’t wait for Optimus or Bulkhead to return. The stasis pod and the cybertronian within it couldn’t wait. The two smallest members of Team Prime arrived just in time to keep the vehicons from cracking the pod open and nabbing whomever was still snoozing away within.

This couldn’t get any worse.

“Another signal is headed your way.”

And suddenly, it got worse.

Arcee swore, ex-venting harshly as another bolt sent a spray of dust and debris scattering over her helm. “Cybertronian?” A derisive snort and a snark infested reply from their resident medic left her feeling like a cadet again. “What else? Primus- it’s moving too fast to be a grounder- get ready for more company.” Another curse. Another blast that was just a bit too close to scraping the top of her helm than Arcee would have liked.

Bumblebee gave a worried warble as the distant rumble of a truly massive engine made itself known, growing louder at an impressive (albeit worrisome) rate. “Yeah- just lay low for now- hopefully we can at least keep them from moving the pod until back up-” The rest of her sentence was drowned out by the roar of that once distant danger and the distinct, deep bellow of heavy cannons... but not at them apparently. Arcee and Bee popped their heads out of cover just long enough to see a small freight ship blast a hole in the vehicons’ defences.

And, of course, the slender shade of a tall femme dropping out from an open hatch. Arcee was pretty sure she heard something snap or pop when the stranger’s peds hit the ground but given how she struck the landing... she’s probably fine?...

They had little time to react as she slammed one foot on the nearest edge of the pod, turning it on it’s side and using it for cover. That was all the mystery femme was able to do before the startled vehicons recovered from her dramatic entrance. “Cover me!” Her shout left them almost as startled as her fierce grin, a dangerous flash of denta and charm. She didn’t even wait for an affirmative. She just crept her way over to the pod’s panel and started typing away.

Arcee hesitated for a split second before sharing a nod with Bee and following her ‘request’. The playing field was even now. They could be optimistic about their chance for success now.

The sound of blaster fire was everywhere. The joints in her legs felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to them. Overclock warnings flashed all over her hud. So many dangers required Cypher’s attention but she might as well have been deaf and blind for all the attention she gave them. She only had optics for the control panel before her. Metacycle upon metacycle had passed her by in her pursuit of this moment. She would have spent even longer searching if that was what it took. But it wasn’t. She was here.

One last digit.

The stasis pod’s lid hissed as the pressure inside equalized with the air outside. The cybertronian within tumbled out gracelessly due to the pod’s off kilter position. Cypher nearly dropped her blaster in her effort to catch the red and white femme. Hackwit. She was thankful that the two autobots were too distracted to pay her much mind- and that Hackwit was currently too disoriented to notice the film of coolant that Cypher quickly blinked away. “Hey there sweetspark.” The casual greeting was too strained for her liking. The old femme vented deeply and regained her composure before the femme in her arms, her sparkling, took notice.

“Cy- Carrier?... What?...”

Scrap. Primus damn her. Don’t do that. Frag it all. Cypher refused to acknowledge the subtle tremble at the corners of her intake or the way her vents hitched at the sound of Hackwit’s voice. She’d missed her more than she realized. Primus don’t let her turn into a weepy old empty nester. “I’d really love to catch up but... too many strangers watching. It’ll be awkward if you start crying and calling me ‘Carrier’.” Cypher nodded towards the the source of all the blasterfire. Hackwit was suddenly very awake.

“Force once it isn’t my fault we’re getting shot at huh? How’s feel ‘Witty? Special?”

A half-hearted, still very tired, laugh bubbled out of the smaller femme as she slumped against Cypher’s chassis. “It’s too early for this. Do you think they’ll leave if you tell them I’m trying to sleep?” Hackwit smiled as she felt the vibrations of her carrier’s chuckle buzz through her helm. “Probably not but I’ll ask- just be ready to run for the ground bridge when you autobot pals activate it.”

“What?”

Cypher’s reply was wordless. She grabbed the rim of the stasis pod with one arm and helped Hackwit up with the other- most certainly overclocking her system. Before she could even begin to chide the older femme for her recklessness she found herself being shoved back. An unfamiliar servo tugged her arm and the young medic’s eyes briefly locked locked with Arcee’s as the whirr of a groundbridge joined the sounds of combat.

Hackwit stole one final look at Cypher. Fear for her carrier’s safety left her longing to remain at her side until both of them were out of harms way. However, freshly out of stasis and bereft of medical tools, she was more of a distraction than anything else. They wouldn’t be separate long. She would make sure of it. Hackwit vented deeply.

And stepped through the swirling, blue gateway.

Her optic blinked a few times as they adjusted to the lighting within the... Base?... This definitely wasn’t built by Cybertronian’s- despite the equipment lying around. The femme’s overwhelming curiosity almost made her glaze over the presence of another bot in the room. Almost.

“Holy Primus.”

Optics wide and mouth agape. Two, near identical expressions of shock.

They were both stuck there, stunned into silence. Unmoving.

“’Witty?...”

The painfully familiar pet name seemed to snap the small femme out of her petrified state. Reds and whites blurred together, the bulky silhouette of his frame distorted, the whole room was melting- Ah- That’s the coolant that’s streaming from her optics. 

A strangled sound bubbled out of Hackwit’s voice box as she all but flung herself into her sire’s arms. She was pretty sure they’d both have chipped paint and a new dent or too from how tightly they were embracing. Ratchet had to have missed her something fierce too because his grip hardly slackened even when the other three members of her welcoming committee passed through the ground bridge. It took the familiar, dulcet chuckle of another familiar voice to grab their attention.