Being Human (Transformers Prime)

Chapter Fifteen | Escape

"I believe one has to escape oneself to discover oneself.” 

~Rabih Alemeddine I

>>•<<

"Bulkhead, when I said 'take down the shields so I can get you a Groundbridge', that did not mean 'throw yourself off the ship and pray that I catch you!!" Ratchet raged the moment he was able to get Wheeljack stabilized. "Do you understand how lucky you are?"

"Soundwave was the one that Groundbridged me overboard!" The Wrecker argued back. "I was trying to get away, and that Decepticon scum used his dirty trick!"

Ratchet paused, and then sighed, pinching the middle of his faceplate. "Alright, alright. I'm being to harsh. I'm sorry."

"Hey Ratchet, what does this mean?"

Primus, Shovel. "That is a sparkbeat monitor. It's very sensitive, don't touch." The medic replies curtly, going back to his main patient. Bulkhead only suffered a few dents that would heal without his help, and thus Wheeljack remained top priority. "Shovel, go check on Ultra Magnus. If he's awake, give him a little energon."

"Yes sir!" Shovel immediately bounds off to the other side of the makeshift infirmary.

June sat there on the couch again, a cup of coffee in one hand and a donut in the other, Agent Fowler standing at the railing and looking over the Autobots. As soon as he had heard that a rescue operation was underway- and that June had little breakfast -he came over as fast as he could, shoved a box of donuts, and coffee, and a bucket load of creamer and sugars at the nurse, and got in the ready position at the railing.

For once, the Agent was silent, not berating the Autobots for who knows what or complaining about how the government was going to have his hide for this. He was just as anxious, she realized, to have the kids back.

"How is he, doc?" Fowler broke the brief silence quietly.

"Stablized, but barely." Ratchet was already welding some other parts back together. "He's in critical condition and his prognosis is poor. But hopefully it will begin improving as I mend him."

Poor. Only one level up from "bad." June bit her lip, then distracted herself with another bite of donut. There was Good, Poor, and Bad when it came to prognosis. Good meant survival, Poor meant survival with problems or potential death, and Bad meant that death was imminent, and there was only so much one could do.

Wheeljack was toeing the line here.

"Keep up the good work." Despite his many flaws, Fowler knew a thing or two about keeping up morale. "He's a tough 'bot, and you're a good doctor. He'll make it."

Ratchet simply grunted his response, and kept working.

>>•<<

He had to admit, Optimus Prime was well aware of his own weakness, and how to not let the enemy exploit it.

They fought like gladiators in a small ring, not daring to take their brawl any closer to the children than necessary, sparks flying and bodies spinning as they countered each other's blows. Optimus was not nearly as graceful anymore with his upgraded size, but he used his bulk properly and knew his limitations.

His partner was a panther in comparison, slinking around and striking, unafraid to use his claws and strength to turn the fight into his favor, his red optics blazing with bloodlust that came from his past. Megatron would not be sated until someone's energon was spilt on this ground, staining his arms and legs and giving him the hard-earned victory he craved.