For your ask game, I am very curious about I-Brought-You-Daffodils!
Oh! I love that one. :D
I Brought You Daffodils is a 3 chapter story in the universe of Make You Feel Alright. It's focused on Bee's grief for Leak, his first caregiver in that universe who died protecting Bee before Optimus and Ratchet took him in.
The first chapter is written from Ratchet's POV and focused on the funeral the Autobots hold for Leak shortly after first finding Bee. I chose the title because I have plans of Bee bringing Leak different flowers/plants each chapter.
I'm pretty sure I have very detailed notes on the different chapters somewhere in my docs or notebooks, but I haven't yet got around to actually write it because I wanted to finish Dreaming of Home first. ^^"
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
So You Know I Care
As Ratchet waits for Bumblebee to wake up after being tortured at Tyger Pax, he makes a promise.
Warnings: Coma, Nightmares, Aftermath of Torture & Violence, mentions puking but no graphic description, Engine Rumbling
Chronology: Pre-Canon - Tyger Pax
Wordcount: 1003 words
Set in the same universe as my story Make You Feel Alright, but can very easily be read as a stand alone.
Written for @angstober - Day 09: Promise.
Prompt list can be found here: X
Story below the cut or on AO3.
Ratchet’s vigil had been long, solitary and harrowing.
He had not left the medbay, not left Bumblebee’s side, in more than a decacycle at this point—not even to recharge or refuel. Instead, he had been sustaining himself on short, fitful naps and what little energon First Aid and Optimus brought with them every time either of them came to check on Bumblebee. Others had visited, too, but Ratchet could barely recall them, their presence or absence irrelevant as his sparkling remained in stasis.
Once it had become obvious that the yellow bot would not wake any time soon, Ratchet had been offered to link the software monitoring the youngling’s vitals to his HUD. This way, the senior medic could have left the room to take care of himself and still monitored Bumblebee’s current status. He would have known as soon as First Aid, who had been assigned as the young bot’s primary physician once Ratchet signed off duty to stay with him, when the youngling began to wake. Nonetheless, he had refused, instead opting to remain with his sparkbyte at all times. Everything else would have felt traitorous.
First Aid had argued at first, but, even though the young mech had grown into a fine medic in his own right, masterfully adapting to the role this War had pushed onto him too fast, he had faced no chance against Ratchet’s particular kind of stubbornness. It had bested many a bot before First Aid and it would best many more after him. Once the physician had truly set his mind on something, especially when it concerned his patients or family unit, he could no longer be swayed from it. So, in the end, the junior medic had given in and allowed Ratchet to remain at his sparkling’s side, accepting that not even the call of Primus himself could have removed the old bot from his post.
Sitting at his sparkbyte’s medberth in solitary silence, Ratchet was unable to stop his thoughts from drfiting back to the surgery that had started his vigil. When Bumblebee had been brought to him in the triage centre at Tyger Pax, his small frame had been littered with evidence of the torture Megatron had subjected him to. Every dent, every cut and laceration had told its own story at the same time that it added to the kaleidoscope of cruelties his sparkling had endured at the servos of the warlord. Most brutal and damning of all, however, had been the hole in Bumblebee’s mangled, torn throat where his voicebox should have sat. Ratchet had barely been able to keep himself from purging at the sight of it. Thinking of the kind of brutal force needed to inflict such a wound still made him nauseous.
With the memories had come doubts, too. In the triage centre, Ratchet had done his best to push aside his overwrought caregiver protocols and focus only on the medical task in front of him—keeping the patient, even if he happened to be his sparkling, alive and as intact as possible. Still, he had been uncharacteristically anxious, almost panicked, in the OR. Now that he was looking back at his actions with the privilege of calm consideration, he could not stop thinking about the things he could have, should have really, done differently, done better. Maybe, if he had been a better medic that cycle, if he had only been a medic, not a worried caretaker, he could have salvaged more of his sparkbyte’s voicebox.
As Bumblebee’s small servo suddenly twitched in his, Ratchet hastily looked up. The young bot had not woken up as the medic had allowed himself to hope for just a moment. Instead, his faceplate was distorted in fear as his optics flickered without a trace of lucidity. His intake was moving silently, mouthing whimpers and whines he could no longer voice. His antennae were pressed painfully flat to his helm. The medic froze, unable to move as he watched his sparkbyte with ever-growing horror.
It had always been exceptionally easy to tell when Bumblebee was having nightmares. Even as a sparkling, before he had learned to trust Optimus and Ratchet with his fears and insecurities, they had always been able to tell when the little yellow mech faced bad dreams. He would not be particularly loud, he rarely ever was, but as soon as his recharge turned sour, Bumblebee would cry and sniffle and whimper, alarming his caretakers that something was wrong.
Now, the little bot was utterly silent, unable to voice his distress because Megatron had ripped out his voicebox and Ratchet had failed to fix it.
A small tremble running through Bumblebee’s frame pulled the medic back into the present. He softly pressed the small yellow servo he was still holding in his own as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on the youngling’s. Carefully, Ratchet wrapped his EM field around the little bot and softly began to rumble his engine in an attempt to soothe his sparkling. Both were shaky at first, but grew steady after only a few nanocycle.
The only thing Ratchet did not do to try and calm him was talk. The sweet nothings he would usually murmur to Bumblebee appeared horridly hollow in the face of the violence that had been inflicted upon him now. How could he ever tell his sparkbyte that everything would be alright again now that the medic failed to make him alright?
It took a bit, but finally Bumblebee fell back into peaceful recharge, his bad dream fading in a way that the waking nightmare he was still unaware of living in would never allow. Even as the little bot calmed, Ratchet remained in his position, curled protectively over his youngling’s frame as he vented heavily. When he ultimately managed to lift himself up again, brownish-gold coolant was streaking down his cheeks.
“I promise you, sparkbyte," Ratchet mumbled later, once his tears had subsided. "I will never again fail you like this. You will be alright."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Make You Feel Alright
Just uploaded the last chapter. :3
So, if you’re interested in roughly 23k words of Ratchet & Bumblebee parent-child angst & hurt/comfort, feel free to check it out.
Fandom: Transformers: Prime
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Wordcount: 23,105
Relationships: Bumblebee & Ratchet, background Optiratch (as in both of them raised Bee together but the focus is on Bee and Ratchet)
Summary:
Primus knew, Ratchet would do anything to shield his sparkling from harm. Yet, the War made exceptions for no one, not even at the insistence and threats of grumpy old medics. Thus, sometimes the only thing Ratchet could do was to hold and comfort Bumblebee in the aftermath of disaster.
Or: 5 times Ratchet had to encourage Bumblebee to open his servo. The gritty, the wholesome and the dark.
thing i did of sunday + myfa a few hours out from artfight AHHH!!! i wanted to do more drawings focusing on the dynamics btwn my ocs but alas this is all i had time for..
hope everyone has fun!! again, find me at https://artfight.net/~halfmoonstruck :-)
