A Small Dose of Ratchet Fever - A Transformers Bayverse Fanfiction

Chapter 5

There was a single reason that I never tried to tell anybody about my condition. One very simple reason, but some people find it so hard to understand. Because of my condition, people often feel obligated to give me more than I deserve. Sometimes a raise, sometimes pity.

But I don't want pity. I don't want an undeserved raise. What I want out of life is something with meaning, something that I earned. Not something that was given to me out of pity.

The next day, I was slightly more prepared. With the night before all in the past, I had gotten a good night of rest. I was well beyond ready for the amount of work that that day would bring.

"Hello," I said gently to Ratchet as I passed him by.

He didn't even turn his head to look at me. He was typing away at his large computer, not taking his optics off of it. "Good morning, Sara."

I stopped walking when I reached my desk. On the desk sat a vase with a good few of pink roses. Pink roses.

Instead of trying to figure out why they were there, it should have been obvious to me anyway, I looked up at him. "Was the blood sample good enough for your research?"

"Extremely," he nodded. He turned around to face me, and smiled softly. "In fact, I would appreciate if you would serve as my... Guinea pig, as humans would say."

"For what?"

Ratchet slowly held out his servo. Inside of his servo was a small human-sized syringe. For such a big mech, he surely knew how to handle smaller objects with such care. "This is an experiment that should boost one's immune system. You are a good human to test it out on, since I can monitor you all day for any negative side effects."

My head tilted to one side. "What sort of side effects would there be?"

He just shrugged lightly. "I'm not sure as of yet. The worst thing that would happen is that it wouldn't work at all, and there would maybe be some head pain. The best case scenario would be no side effects, and a boosted immune system for you."
Something inside me told me that he wasn't just doing this for shits and giggles, but I didn't try to question him. He was my obvious superior, and I had to trust his judgement. I did trust his judgement. I had no reason to think otherwise. He's done nothing negative to me.

I nodded. "Of course. I'll still be able to work, right?" Getting behind on my work did not sound like a very productive day. The exact opposite, actually. Counter-productive.

He chuckled. "You will still be able to work."

Without further pause, he wiped my arm with an alcohol wipe and injected the needle. I flinched a little as the weird liquid entered my bloodstream, but I didn't make a sound.

When he was done, he placed another cotton ball over the little injection hole and placed a bandage on top of it. "There. Now you may get back to work."

And so I did. There was no awkwardness between us. This could actually work.