something had to be done. it ached within his spark, a need to say something-- words left unsaid, problems discarded && pure agony buried underneath the busy servos of his duties. so here the boy was. standing behind his carrier, the one his hurt spark wished to blame. but it melted away. the grumpy disposition of the older mech before him did not faze him in the slightest. moving in from his side, the youngling, without hesitation, moved to gently embrace ratchet from his right side. ( pt.1 )
( pt.2 ) the praxian nuzzled his face into the back of his carrier’s shoulder. wings low, grip tight and meaningful. “ please- please stop blaming yourself, carrier. i know- i know you were trying to protect me. ” his voice wavered, optics squeezed shut tight, pressed against ratchet’s frame, “ i- i love you. so much, and you- you don’t deserve to suffer anymore. i couldn’t ask for… better creators. ”
“Oh, Smokescreen…” Ratchet turned to embrace his son, hesitant at first, but not being able to stop himself. Lubricant forced their way into his optics, but the carrier would be darned if he let it show.
As much as hearing his son’s words warmed his spark, he knew better. He would not have this.
“Smokescreen, it is important you listen to me very carefully right now.” he began, with a gentle tone but with serious intent, still embracing his son.
“You do not OWE me forgiveness. I want you to understand that whatever my reasons and excuses were for leaving you behind, my intent was never to abandon you the way I did. The fact that it happened, means my decision cost you a sparklinghood with your creators, leaving you wondering if you were even wanted, feeling at loss and confused of who you are, and Primus knows what else! Know, that each of those alone is worth more than all the energon in the universe.” Ratchet closed his optics and turned his face away, quickly wiping the tears off his optics, hoping the young mech hadn’t seen them.
“Therefore I do not want you to feel guilty about your feelings towards me. If you’re anything like myself, I would bitterly hate my creators, if I had any, if they had left me behind the way I did to you. I do not need your forgiveness, your love or your support, but you need mine, and you needed mine for the entirety of your existence and I wasn’t there to give it to you. It is not something that a mere “It’s alright” makes okay, and I will not pretend it is. It would be most unfair to you, and even more wrong than leaving you behind was.”
Ratchet turns to look at this son, his field emanating authority, seriousness and intent, but also grief, love, care, and traces of guilt he was desperately trying to hide, and then embraced him again.
“And most of all, I do not want you to lie to me or to yourself about how you feel. You say you couldn’t ask for better creators, but it simply is not true. You have all the right to ask for all those things I wasn’t there to give you, and don’t you dare feel bad for wanting to have them! I, as your carrier, had a most precious duty to fulfill in your life and I failed you, and that’s an understatement of the millennium! Therefore, whatever I may be feeling about this is irrelevant. What matters is that we are together again, and have been given a second chance. But, do not pretend it is as good as it would have been had I been there with you from the start, and do not think whatever I’m able to amend from now on will ever make up for the time that was lost to us.”
A quiet sob escapes Ratchet’s vocals and internally cursing himself, the medic clears his throat.
“No sooner than when every need in your spark my absence caused you has been fulfilled–and more, do I want you to forgive me. Do I make myself clear, Di… Smokescreen?”
Wounded as the medic may have been on the hidden depths of his spark, but his pride and honor were intact as ever. The child did not owe their parents, the parents owe to the child, and in their case it was Ratchet. It was the least he could do.
Optimus bore no such responsibility, as the Autobot leader had been none the wiser. If Ratchet secretly wished forgiveness from someone, it was Optimus. It had been wrong to keep Smokescreen’s existence from the Prime, and while protecting both Optimus and Smokescreen had been his intention, there were more selfish aspects to his reasons, particularly fear of being judged and abandoned by the Prime, and shame over the events that had led to the conception of their child.
After Optimus’ dramatic break-up with Megatron, the new Prime had sought solace in his old friend, and there had been high-grade. Ratchet had had an unrequited crush on his friend for almost as long as they’d known each other, and it should have occurred to him bringing high-grade into such an emotional situation was a very BAD IDEA. While it had been consensual, Ratchet couldn’t remember for sure, and thus his bullied, and guilt-prone mind had started blaming him of taking advantage of the Prime’s state of mind and inebriation for his own selfish gain. Poor Ratchet could not recall which one had initiated, but by his feelings for the Prime alone he concluded it had to have been himself. Turns out, it had actually been Optimus.
The medic’s fears, he now admits to his own shame, had been mostly products of his traumas from his previous relationship with Gavel of the city parliament in Iacon, who in a similar situation would have ensured charges had been filed against him and his medical permits relieved. Of course, this was an abusive sleaze who wouldn’t hesitate taking advantage of others for his own personal gain, every fraction of shanix the bastard owed him bearing witness among everything else, and how Ratchet wished it was pure irony.
May the pit spawn smelt forever with the rest of his kind. He had much more important matters at hand.
