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tfic_contestTitle: Failure, Redeemer
Rating: K
Universe: Animated
Pairing: Ratchet/Wreck-Gar
Word Count: 2,599
Fish, he decided fairly quickly, were boring. They were also not talkative, prone to ignoring him completely and not even a little bit helpful. They were, in fact, rather rude.
Wreck-Gar didn’t hold it against them. They probably couldn’t speak…whatever language it was that he spoke. And they didn’t have any hands, so they wouldn’t really be able to help dig him out. But some of them were pretty to look at, so he decided to enjoy the fish instead of being upset with them.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat under the water, but eventually the mud he was buried in began to wash away. As the mud washed away, Wreck-Gar realized that he wasn’t missing his arms like he thought. They had just been buried under the mud. After they were unburied enough for him to pull his hands out of the mud, it was easy to pull the rest of himself out.
Really, really easy, since there was only about half of him left to pull out.
He looked down to where his waist and legs should have been and sighed. “Now that’s inconvenient. Looks like I’ll just have to find parts and rebuild myself.”
Wreck-Gar looked around at his surroundings to see what he might be able to use. He caught sight of a large, half-buried piece of rusting metal a few feet away. With a grin he pulled a blow torch out of his dumpster. “Now that should be useful!”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Ratchet grumbled as he wandered around the room the Autobots had turned into his makeshift medbay looking for something to do. Things had been constantly busy for so long that he was actually bored without being blown up by Decepticons, eaten by nanobot infested insects or finding newborn “Cybertronians” scattered around the city. He was bored enough that he would even be excited to see one of those ridiculous costumed human villains that seemed to be running rampant in Detroit.
When he had that thought, he knew he was desperate. Those particular humans were idiots and not worth wasting his time on.
With a sigh, Ratchet left the medbay, determined to find something to do. Something that didn’t involve obnoxiously loud music, video games, meditation, weapons kata or sparring with Optimus. He wanted a nice, quiet task away from the other ‘bots in his unit that would take his mind off the new war that had started here on Earth.
Really, he was too old for this kind of slag.
He might have continued on that line of thought if the computer console they had installed in the main room hadn’t given the security alert in that moment. He looked around for the ‘bot on duty and found no one else in the room. Bumblebee must have been the monitor today, then; Bulkhead and Prowl both covered their watches diligently and Optimus Prime took his monitor duty too seriously. Sighing at the youngest mech’s lack of standards and attention span, the medic sat down behind the computer and called up the alert.
“What the slag?” Ratchet activated the comm. “Optimus, you better get in here.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Wreck-gar had needed to get creative to fasten his new legs on once he realized that his blowtorch wouldn’t work under water. That had been disappointing, and the legs weren’t all that sturdy, but he could fix them up once he got out of the water.
Once the legs were attached as securely as they could be, he stood and started walking. He had to find the end of the water sometime; he knew the whole world wasn’t made of water. If he just kept walking, he would come out someplace dry eventually.
He was delighted to come out of the water fairly quickly and in the middle of a large city. Cities meant junk—he had learned that almost before he was born—and junk meant quality repairs. He kept walking, though he was looking for some nice scraps to use on his legs now.
It would be nice to be in proper working order again. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what proper working order really was. He’d settle for being able to walk the right way.
As he searched, something in the sky caught his optics and he looked up. It was one of those signs he remembered from his first day of life. “Detroit Metro Police—We’re here to help” it read.
Wreck-Gar’s joy knew no bounds. “I know where I am!” he exclaimed to no one in particular.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“Ratchet, are you sure you’ve seen this spark signature before?” Optimus Prime seemed both unwilling to believe him and scared to process the possibilities of the medic’s statement.
“No,” Ratchet replied sarcastically. “I’m lying when I tell you that this is the spark signature of the most annoying sparkling I’ve met in my entire life.”
“Looks like you’ve finally moved up in the world,” Prowl said, giving Bumblebee a pointed look.
“Hey!” the yellow mech protested. “I’m a grown ‘bot!”
“I rest my case.” Ratchet couldn’t help sniping back a bit. “But seriously, Prime. This could get out of hand again. The Decepticons wanted Wreck-Gar before and the only thing that stopped them was the fact that he’s to uneducated to know what the slag they’re talking about.”
“Do you think they’ll have detected him already? It seems like it was kind of an accident that you did…” For the first time since their break, Ratchet realized how tired his young commander was. It wasn’t that Optimus didn’t want to go looking for Wreck-Gar—the younger mech needed rest.
“I don’t know. But we can’t take the chance that they did.” The medic gave a sigh before continuing. He didn’t want to go out, but Optimus was terrible about taking care of himself when he was in what Sari called “Leader Mode”. “Why don’t I take Prowl and see if we can find him? You and Bumblebee can monitor from here; we’ll let you know if we need help.”
“Are you sure? I can call Bulkhead back in if you think you need backup.” Optimus was as reluctant to let them go, it seemed, as he was to out himself.
“Let him stay with Sari,” Prowl said. “She needs him and Ratchet is right. We should be able to handle Wreck-Gar on our own.”
“All right, but be careful you two,” Optimus relented. “I seem to recall this mech being unpredictable.”
“You have no idea,” Ratchet said as he and Prowl left the room.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He really couldn’t remember the city being this tidy. He was pretty sure that there was junk to be found everywhere, but Wreck-Gar was still looking for it. It was really very disappointing; he needed to find the proper parts to put his legs back together right.
The ones he had just weren’t holding together the way he thought they would.
“Excuse me,” he said to a human he spotted walking down the street. “Do you know where I can find some parts for myself?”
The human screamed and ran the opposite way.
“Well that was not helpful.” Wreck-Gar pouted for a moment before continuing on wobbly legs down the street.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It didn’t take long before Ratchet and Prowl found Wreck-Gar. It wasn’t difficult; the young mech wasn’t making any effort to hide. When they spotted him, he was speaking diligently to one of the trash collecting robots. He didn’t look too horrible—if you didn’t count the fact that his legs didn’t match the rest of him and looked ready to fall apart at the first stiff breeze.
Ratchet transformed into his robot mode and held a hand out in front of the ninja. “Prowl, hang back here and wait. I want to talk to him before he sees you.”
Prowl stopped next to the medic and transformed as well. “Why? He didn’t prove to be particularly safe the last time you dealt with him.”
Ratchet shook his head. “I brought that on myself. Just let me handle it, okay?”
“If that’s what you want.” Prowl didn’t look convinced, but he relented.
Ratchet nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be back.”
The medic turned and walked slowly toward the Allspark shard created mech. Wreck-Gar was holding his chin in his hand thoughtfully, looking as if the garbage robot had actually said something of value to him. Who knew, maybe it had; Wreck-Gar’s processor didn’t work like any he had ever seen before.
“Wreck-Gar!” he finally called out when he was as far from Prowl as he dared to get.
The young mech looked up. For a moment, he looked a bit confused to see Ratchet. This his face lit up with joy. “Hey! Its you! You helped me!”
“Uh, yeah. That was me.” Ratchet was a bit embarrassed, both at the young mech’s excitement to see him and at the memories of the events that had led to the young mech being blown to the bottom of the lake. “How’d you get back here?”
“I put some legs back on and started walking. But the fish weren’t very helpful and the thingy I tried to use to put them back on didn’t work under water, so I’m trying to find something else I can use to make them sturdier.” Wreck-Gar took a moment to pause and take a dramatic—and not needed—breath. “What about you? How come you’re here?”
“Came looking for you, actually.” Ratchet was glad that the young mech had given him an opportunity to be completely honest. He’d seen this mech angry before, and he hoped he’d never see it again. “Thought you might want to come back to our place for an oil break or something. I might be able to help with those legs, too.”
Wreck-Gar struck a thinking pose. The medic desperately hoped that he’d take the invitation; trying to force Wreck-Gar into coming back to the base wouldn’t work out well.
After a long moment, Wreck-Gar shrugged. “Okay.”
Ratchet grinned with relief. “Great. The base is back this way, kid.”
Prowl followed them back to the base at a discreet distance. Ratchet was grateful for that too.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Wreck-Gar swung his new legs happily after Ratchet’s repairs. They still didn’t match his color scheme, but the medic—who knew that there were ‘Bots who fixed other ‘Bots!—said they could find some paint that matched and fix them. He liked the legs, even if they didn’t match.
Ratchet was in another room now, speaking with the big red and blue mech. Wreck-Gar was pretty sure the red and blue mech was in charge, because he heard Ratchet asking him if he could stay. Wreck-Gar hoped the other mech would say yes, because he was tired of being alone.
Wreck-Gar didn’t know these mechs yet, but they seemed nice, and they’d given him fuel and Ratchet had fixed his legs. He thought that he might like to stay with them.
“All right,” Ratchet said as he came back into the room. “Prime says you can have the room next to Prowl’s. That sound good to you?”
“Yes,” Wreck-Gar replied. “That sounds very good. But I’ve been wondering something.”
“Shoot, kid.”
“Huh?” He had no idea what the other mech meant.
“Sorry. Sometimes I forget how young you are. It means you can ask your question.” Ratchet waved him off the berth. “But ask while you walk. I want to get you settled in before Bumblebee gets back from patrol.”
“Okay.” Wreck-Gar jumped up and followed the medic. “So, I’ve been wondering. Why do you always look so sad when you’re talking to me?”
And he did. Ratchet always looked sad when he talked to Wreck-Gar. Or when he just looked at him. He didn’t like it—he didn’t want to make Ratchet sad, even if the medic was cranky and mean sometimes.
“Its not you, Wreck-Gar,” Ratchet answered. “All you young mechs remind me of someone I knew a long time ago.”
“Oh. Someone special?”
“She might have been,” Ratchet replied. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. Can we talk about something else now?”
“Sure,” Wreck-Gar replied. “Why do you guys have a human?”
Ratchet sighed.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Ratchet watched Wreck-Gar interact with the other Autobots sadly. The young mech had done well since joining them. He wanted to learn and he learned quickly. He got along with everyone, even Prowl, and he adored Sari.
But he still watched Ratchet thoughtfully and the medic knew why. He owed Wreck-Gar an answer—a real answer—to the question he had asked the day Ratchet brought him home.
“Wreck-Gar,” he said. “Come see me when you’re finished with Optimus.”
As he left the common room and headed for his medbay, he heard Prime ask if Wreck-Gar had been injured. The young mech replied negatively, sounding confused. It made Ratchet wish that he had told Wreck-Gar what he wanted; the kid deserved better than the medic was giving him.
A few minutes after he made his request, Wreck-Gar stepped into the medbay. “What’s up, doc?”
Ratchet sighed and wished that Sari had never introduced the mech to cartoons. “Sit down. We may be a while.”
“Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble?” Wreck-Gar’s normally cheerful face fell into a troubled frown.
“No, no. Nothing like that.” Ratchet sat down next to the young mech. “You asked me a question and I never really gave you an answer, because I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Its okay, you don’t have to talk about it. I won’t make you.” Wreck-Gar patted the medic on one shoulder comfortingly.
“You won’t make me,” the medic replied, “But I think I need to. I think maybe I’ve held on to this guilt for too long.”
Wreck-Gar watched him with intent optics, silent for once, waiting for the medic to speak.
“A long time ago, back when I was still a young ‘Bot, I was a field medic in the war. Sometimes I got asked to do other jobs, though—when there was no one else around to do them, usually. Once, they sent me out to extract an injured spy from the field and bring her home. We were captured before we were back behind secure lines and we were both tortured for the information she was carrying.
“She was the most incredible femme, Wreck-Gar. Wouldn’t give that glitch anything no matter what he did. She was ready to die rather than give him what he wanted. And I was so determined that we would both get out alive.”
“What happened?” the young mech asked when it became apparent that Ratchet wasn’t continuing.
“There was an accident while we were escaping.” The medic’s voice became terribly sad—sadder than Wreck-Gar could ever remember hearing. “Her memory was erased. She didn’t remember who I was—she couldn’t even remember her own designation. I failed her, kid. As completely as I failed you. If I hadn’t been such an aft headed old fool, you wouldn’t have ever been on that garbage scow to end up at the bottom of the lake.”
“But…you didn’t fail me!” The young ‘Bot sounded horrified at the thought. “You taught me! And I’m here now, aren’t I? So, it’s not like things can’t get fixed!”
Ratchet gave Wreck-Gar a thoughtful look. For someone so damned young, the kid was pretty smart. “No, I guess as long as we’re both still functional, we’ve got the time.”
He thought that he could even manage to get used to Wreck-Gar’s unpredictable actions when the young mech hugged him tightly.
Rating: K
Universe: Animated
Pairing: Ratchet/Wreck-Gar
Word Count: 2,599
Fish, he decided fairly quickly, were boring. They were also not talkative, prone to ignoring him completely and not even a little bit helpful. They were, in fact, rather rude.
Wreck-Gar didn’t hold it against them. They probably couldn’t speak…whatever language it was that he spoke. And they didn’t have any hands, so they wouldn’t really be able to help dig him out. But some of them were pretty to look at, so he decided to enjoy the fish instead of being upset with them.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat under the water, but eventually the mud he was buried in began to wash away. As the mud washed away, Wreck-Gar realized that he wasn’t missing his arms like he thought. They had just been buried under the mud. After they were unburied enough for him to pull his hands out of the mud, it was easy to pull the rest of himself out.
Really, really easy, since there was only about half of him left to pull out.
He looked down to where his waist and legs should have been and sighed. “Now that’s inconvenient. Looks like I’ll just have to find parts and rebuild myself.”
Wreck-Gar looked around at his surroundings to see what he might be able to use. He caught sight of a large, half-buried piece of rusting metal a few feet away. With a grin he pulled a blow torch out of his dumpster. “Now that should be useful!”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Ratchet grumbled as he wandered around the room the Autobots had turned into his makeshift medbay looking for something to do. Things had been constantly busy for so long that he was actually bored without being blown up by Decepticons, eaten by nanobot infested insects or finding newborn “Cybertronians” scattered around the city. He was bored enough that he would even be excited to see one of those ridiculous costumed human villains that seemed to be running rampant in Detroit.
When he had that thought, he knew he was desperate. Those particular humans were idiots and not worth wasting his time on.
With a sigh, Ratchet left the medbay, determined to find something to do. Something that didn’t involve obnoxiously loud music, video games, meditation, weapons kata or sparring with Optimus. He wanted a nice, quiet task away from the other ‘bots in his unit that would take his mind off the new war that had started here on Earth.
Really, he was too old for this kind of slag.
He might have continued on that line of thought if the computer console they had installed in the main room hadn’t given the security alert in that moment. He looked around for the ‘bot on duty and found no one else in the room. Bumblebee must have been the monitor today, then; Bulkhead and Prowl both covered their watches diligently and Optimus Prime took his monitor duty too seriously. Sighing at the youngest mech’s lack of standards and attention span, the medic sat down behind the computer and called up the alert.
“What the slag?” Ratchet activated the comm. “Optimus, you better get in here.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Wreck-gar had needed to get creative to fasten his new legs on once he realized that his blowtorch wouldn’t work under water. That had been disappointing, and the legs weren’t all that sturdy, but he could fix them up once he got out of the water.
Once the legs were attached as securely as they could be, he stood and started walking. He had to find the end of the water sometime; he knew the whole world wasn’t made of water. If he just kept walking, he would come out someplace dry eventually.
He was delighted to come out of the water fairly quickly and in the middle of a large city. Cities meant junk—he had learned that almost before he was born—and junk meant quality repairs. He kept walking, though he was looking for some nice scraps to use on his legs now.
It would be nice to be in proper working order again. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what proper working order really was. He’d settle for being able to walk the right way.
As he searched, something in the sky caught his optics and he looked up. It was one of those signs he remembered from his first day of life. “Detroit Metro Police—We’re here to help” it read.
Wreck-Gar’s joy knew no bounds. “I know where I am!” he exclaimed to no one in particular.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“Ratchet, are you sure you’ve seen this spark signature before?” Optimus Prime seemed both unwilling to believe him and scared to process the possibilities of the medic’s statement.
“No,” Ratchet replied sarcastically. “I’m lying when I tell you that this is the spark signature of the most annoying sparkling I’ve met in my entire life.”
“Looks like you’ve finally moved up in the world,” Prowl said, giving Bumblebee a pointed look.
“Hey!” the yellow mech protested. “I’m a grown ‘bot!”
“I rest my case.” Ratchet couldn’t help sniping back a bit. “But seriously, Prime. This could get out of hand again. The Decepticons wanted Wreck-Gar before and the only thing that stopped them was the fact that he’s to uneducated to know what the slag they’re talking about.”
“Do you think they’ll have detected him already? It seems like it was kind of an accident that you did…” For the first time since their break, Ratchet realized how tired his young commander was. It wasn’t that Optimus didn’t want to go looking for Wreck-Gar—the younger mech needed rest.
“I don’t know. But we can’t take the chance that they did.” The medic gave a sigh before continuing. He didn’t want to go out, but Optimus was terrible about taking care of himself when he was in what Sari called “Leader Mode”. “Why don’t I take Prowl and see if we can find him? You and Bumblebee can monitor from here; we’ll let you know if we need help.”
“Are you sure? I can call Bulkhead back in if you think you need backup.” Optimus was as reluctant to let them go, it seemed, as he was to out himself.
“Let him stay with Sari,” Prowl said. “She needs him and Ratchet is right. We should be able to handle Wreck-Gar on our own.”
“All right, but be careful you two,” Optimus relented. “I seem to recall this mech being unpredictable.”
“You have no idea,” Ratchet said as he and Prowl left the room.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He really couldn’t remember the city being this tidy. He was pretty sure that there was junk to be found everywhere, but Wreck-Gar was still looking for it. It was really very disappointing; he needed to find the proper parts to put his legs back together right.
The ones he had just weren’t holding together the way he thought they would.
“Excuse me,” he said to a human he spotted walking down the street. “Do you know where I can find some parts for myself?”
The human screamed and ran the opposite way.
“Well that was not helpful.” Wreck-Gar pouted for a moment before continuing on wobbly legs down the street.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It didn’t take long before Ratchet and Prowl found Wreck-Gar. It wasn’t difficult; the young mech wasn’t making any effort to hide. When they spotted him, he was speaking diligently to one of the trash collecting robots. He didn’t look too horrible—if you didn’t count the fact that his legs didn’t match the rest of him and looked ready to fall apart at the first stiff breeze.
Ratchet transformed into his robot mode and held a hand out in front of the ninja. “Prowl, hang back here and wait. I want to talk to him before he sees you.”
Prowl stopped next to the medic and transformed as well. “Why? He didn’t prove to be particularly safe the last time you dealt with him.”
Ratchet shook his head. “I brought that on myself. Just let me handle it, okay?”
“If that’s what you want.” Prowl didn’t look convinced, but he relented.
Ratchet nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be back.”
The medic turned and walked slowly toward the Allspark shard created mech. Wreck-Gar was holding his chin in his hand thoughtfully, looking as if the garbage robot had actually said something of value to him. Who knew, maybe it had; Wreck-Gar’s processor didn’t work like any he had ever seen before.
“Wreck-Gar!” he finally called out when he was as far from Prowl as he dared to get.
The young mech looked up. For a moment, he looked a bit confused to see Ratchet. This his face lit up with joy. “Hey! Its you! You helped me!”
“Uh, yeah. That was me.” Ratchet was a bit embarrassed, both at the young mech’s excitement to see him and at the memories of the events that had led to the young mech being blown to the bottom of the lake. “How’d you get back here?”
“I put some legs back on and started walking. But the fish weren’t very helpful and the thingy I tried to use to put them back on didn’t work under water, so I’m trying to find something else I can use to make them sturdier.” Wreck-Gar took a moment to pause and take a dramatic—and not needed—breath. “What about you? How come you’re here?”
“Came looking for you, actually.” Ratchet was glad that the young mech had given him an opportunity to be completely honest. He’d seen this mech angry before, and he hoped he’d never see it again. “Thought you might want to come back to our place for an oil break or something. I might be able to help with those legs, too.”
Wreck-Gar struck a thinking pose. The medic desperately hoped that he’d take the invitation; trying to force Wreck-Gar into coming back to the base wouldn’t work out well.
After a long moment, Wreck-Gar shrugged. “Okay.”
Ratchet grinned with relief. “Great. The base is back this way, kid.”
Prowl followed them back to the base at a discreet distance. Ratchet was grateful for that too.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Wreck-Gar swung his new legs happily after Ratchet’s repairs. They still didn’t match his color scheme, but the medic—who knew that there were ‘Bots who fixed other ‘Bots!—said they could find some paint that matched and fix them. He liked the legs, even if they didn’t match.
Ratchet was in another room now, speaking with the big red and blue mech. Wreck-Gar was pretty sure the red and blue mech was in charge, because he heard Ratchet asking him if he could stay. Wreck-Gar hoped the other mech would say yes, because he was tired of being alone.
Wreck-Gar didn’t know these mechs yet, but they seemed nice, and they’d given him fuel and Ratchet had fixed his legs. He thought that he might like to stay with them.
“All right,” Ratchet said as he came back into the room. “Prime says you can have the room next to Prowl’s. That sound good to you?”
“Yes,” Wreck-Gar replied. “That sounds very good. But I’ve been wondering something.”
“Shoot, kid.”
“Huh?” He had no idea what the other mech meant.
“Sorry. Sometimes I forget how young you are. It means you can ask your question.” Ratchet waved him off the berth. “But ask while you walk. I want to get you settled in before Bumblebee gets back from patrol.”
“Okay.” Wreck-Gar jumped up and followed the medic. “So, I’ve been wondering. Why do you always look so sad when you’re talking to me?”
And he did. Ratchet always looked sad when he talked to Wreck-Gar. Or when he just looked at him. He didn’t like it—he didn’t want to make Ratchet sad, even if the medic was cranky and mean sometimes.
“Its not you, Wreck-Gar,” Ratchet answered. “All you young mechs remind me of someone I knew a long time ago.”
“Oh. Someone special?”
“She might have been,” Ratchet replied. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. Can we talk about something else now?”
“Sure,” Wreck-Gar replied. “Why do you guys have a human?”
Ratchet sighed.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Ratchet watched Wreck-Gar interact with the other Autobots sadly. The young mech had done well since joining them. He wanted to learn and he learned quickly. He got along with everyone, even Prowl, and he adored Sari.
But he still watched Ratchet thoughtfully and the medic knew why. He owed Wreck-Gar an answer—a real answer—to the question he had asked the day Ratchet brought him home.
“Wreck-Gar,” he said. “Come see me when you’re finished with Optimus.”
As he left the common room and headed for his medbay, he heard Prime ask if Wreck-Gar had been injured. The young mech replied negatively, sounding confused. It made Ratchet wish that he had told Wreck-Gar what he wanted; the kid deserved better than the medic was giving him.
A few minutes after he made his request, Wreck-Gar stepped into the medbay. “What’s up, doc?”
Ratchet sighed and wished that Sari had never introduced the mech to cartoons. “Sit down. We may be a while.”
“Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble?” Wreck-Gar’s normally cheerful face fell into a troubled frown.
“No, no. Nothing like that.” Ratchet sat down next to the young mech. “You asked me a question and I never really gave you an answer, because I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Its okay, you don’t have to talk about it. I won’t make you.” Wreck-Gar patted the medic on one shoulder comfortingly.
“You won’t make me,” the medic replied, “But I think I need to. I think maybe I’ve held on to this guilt for too long.”
Wreck-Gar watched him with intent optics, silent for once, waiting for the medic to speak.
“A long time ago, back when I was still a young ‘Bot, I was a field medic in the war. Sometimes I got asked to do other jobs, though—when there was no one else around to do them, usually. Once, they sent me out to extract an injured spy from the field and bring her home. We were captured before we were back behind secure lines and we were both tortured for the information she was carrying.
“She was the most incredible femme, Wreck-Gar. Wouldn’t give that glitch anything no matter what he did. She was ready to die rather than give him what he wanted. And I was so determined that we would both get out alive.”
“What happened?” the young mech asked when it became apparent that Ratchet wasn’t continuing.
“There was an accident while we were escaping.” The medic’s voice became terribly sad—sadder than Wreck-Gar could ever remember hearing. “Her memory was erased. She didn’t remember who I was—she couldn’t even remember her own designation. I failed her, kid. As completely as I failed you. If I hadn’t been such an aft headed old fool, you wouldn’t have ever been on that garbage scow to end up at the bottom of the lake.”
“But…you didn’t fail me!” The young ‘Bot sounded horrified at the thought. “You taught me! And I’m here now, aren’t I? So, it’s not like things can’t get fixed!”
Ratchet gave Wreck-Gar a thoughtful look. For someone so damned young, the kid was pretty smart. “No, I guess as long as we’re both still functional, we’ve got the time.”
He thought that he could even manage to get used to Wreck-Gar’s unpredictable actions when the young mech hugged him tightly.
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