3. Family (A TFP Fanfiction)

Prologue

General

Ratchet sat alone in the junkyard, quiet and still in his vehicle mode. Though he made no noise, his processor was abuzz. He couldn't help but think about the most recent events. The Decepticons has taken everything. The humans. Their base. Their hope for restoration of Cybertron.

Taylor.

Ratchet resisted the urge to transform back to his biped mode and start smashing the scattered cars that littered the area around. Why was he so useless?! This whole time, he was able to do absolutely nothing to help the others. The journey to Cybertron, he had remained behind. They had done everything, while he had anxiously waited in the safety of the base. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to so badly go with them. He felt as if he could have done something. When the others had returned not only with the news that they had failed, but with the other children, he was furious. They had thrown away their only chance, and Taylor was still gone. He felt awful for wishing that Taylor had come back instead of the other children, but in that moment, that was what had sparked in his processor.

Not only was his charge missing, and most likely dead, but now Optimus was gone. Gone. Selflessly staying behind to the end, making sure none of his team was followed. As soon as Ratchet had gone through the Bridge, he could feel the destruction of the base in his spark, and Optimus along with it. It seemed like things couldn't get any worse at that time. It still felt that way a little now.

It didn't help that the Bumblebee and Raf has come. Of course those he had a softer spot for would show up and try to convince him that they could fix this. And they did. He almost had agreed with them. For a split second, he had thought that maybe they could. But it was hopeless, and he had made his points to them. The medic had grown frustrated when they still refused to stand down and give up. Hearing them drive away had brought both relief and grief in his spark.

Now he really had no one.

Ratchet's chest chassis seemed to finally explode, and he transformed quickly and stood in the junkyard, his helm faced down and his servos clenched into fists. He grit his denta as his fists began to shake. In one sharp movement, the medic swung around and slammed it into a stack of old, broken down cars, his previous shield. He roared sharply out of unrelenting frustration as he struck another pile, then kicked down another. Normally, Ratchet wasn't one to destroy things. He was good at keeping his cool for the most part. He found it ironic that he was the one breaking things now, despite his nature to get onto anyone else who did.

But no one was here to scold him.

When he stopped, he could only scold himself. But not for letting his anger out on the junk around him. Once again, he cursed himself for not being able to do anything. The sense of helplessness wasn't growing any dimmer. If anything, it grew and grew as time went by. He stood straight again, this time looking up and staring into the night stars. As his optics watched them twinkle in the darkness, he remembered the night he had taken Taylor out into the field. He remembered the fireflies that had danced around them, the peacefulness that had enveloped around the both of them. The calm that had blanketed him as he let his charge lean on him and fall asleep. Another memory flashed in his head, where Taylor had told him about the dream she had had once. Those stars had been her fondest memories with her mother. He had honestly thought that it was sweet, although he would never admit to that out loud.

All those feelings, all the good ones. They were gone now. All that was left was despair, shame, helplessness, and utter hopelessness.

Ratchet sighed, sitting down and leaning his elbows on his knee plates as he put his helm in his servos. Honestly, he felt like breaking down right here and now. No one would see, no one would know.

And no one would be there to comfort him.

It was at that moment, one of the lowest moments of his life, that he felt his spark feel something that wasn't his own. His helm flew up as he jumped, his chassis going stiff. It was like his spark-beat was different; like it was someone else's. It started pumping wildly, and he felt fear rise like a wave. He clutched his chest chassis in surprise, feeling slight pain as well. What was this? Or a better question, who's was this? For some reason, he could tell that these feelings were not his own.

Then he realized. Taylor. This was Taylor's spark. He stood up sharply in realization, his optic wide and staring at nothing in particular. His chassis started to shake; he had to do something. Taylor needed him. She was still alive, but so afraid and in pain. She felt hopeless, just like he did.

Yet for a moment, he felt a small comfort sent to him through sparks. Like she was trying to tell him it would be okay. Despite her own fear, she did this.

If she even really knew. This could be subconscious.

Ratchet sighed in relief, closing his optics and leaning his helm back. He did his best to send calming feelings through his spark to her. The doctor was confident that it was her now; their sparks were somehow connected. He pushed away an uncomfortable rising thought and continued to push the comfort through his spark to hers. Relief flooded into his spark again when she calmed down a little, gratefulness and confusion ringing like a bell.

It was like Ratchet was feeling her. It was so clear now, like she was right there.

And then they were gone. Yanked away from him so sharply the medic actually jumped, his optics opening in surprise. He blinked and stood there for a moment, trying to think clearly. Trying to think of what to do now.

I can't just stay here and do nothing. She needs me.

Where he had felt helpless and hopeless before, determination suddenly set in and didn't let go. He stood straighter, clenching his servos and looking ahead. He turned around and found the tire tracks of the scout, his optics tracing them as he painfully remembered that he had let them leave. His optics narrowed before he transformed into his alt mode quickly, revving up his engine and following the tracks out.

He was going to get her back. No matter what.

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Sorry for the short prologue.. just over 1100+ words... that feels super short now...

But hey, at least the first chapter of Family is now OUT!!! I'm so happy and excited for this book. I can't wait to get this going!!

But I still have Endpoint and Return to finish lol. Well, Endpoint is almost finished. Return should be as well, although I am making a kinda sorta sequel to that one.

Well, I hope you have enjoyed the Prologue for the third and final book!!

*waves*