Chapter Eleven

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The next week went by slowly and painfully, as time stretched on; Optimus grew more and more busy, leading the army that was called the Autobots, who were defending against the Decepticons. Most mechs and femmes all over Cybertron had decided where their place was: An Autobot or a Decepticon. Of course, Ratchet knew he was going to be an Autobot the moment the Decepticons began, he'd offline before he sided with Megatron.

Optimus was increasingly busy. He and Ratchet were staying in a military base, sharing an apartment type facility, where Ratchet stayed most of the time, waiting for his mate's return. But when Optimus did come back, he was exhausted, paid rare attention to the worried medic, who noticed right away, but remained quiet about the whole ordeal. Ratchet knew the Prime was busy and had very, very important issues to attend to, and he couldn't argue with that. Still, Optimus could at least have a little conversation...

So it was the middle of a cold day, Ratchet was alone in their temporary home, laying on the couch, as the sparkling caused the worst of discomforts. Endless abdominal pains were surging through his middle, he couldn't get any recharge, and he couldn't drink energon without feeling sick. Optimus, of course, had no idea about the pain, because he was always too tired to notice Ratchet's behavior, which hurt the medic the most.

It broke Ratchet's spark. The one he had bonded with was... neglecting him in a way; even through the course of leading an army, he should at least have a little concern for his mate and his unborn sparkling...

"Eeeennnngh." Ratchet whined as another wave of pain coursed through his abdomen. "Primus, stop these infernal cramps..." He put an arm over his middle. "Goodness little one, your really being a servoful right now..." Part of him was angry with himself, this had to be from deprivation of recharge and energon. Despite the discomfort it brings, he should be able to pull through for the sparkling, but instead, he's let it get the best of him...

The door opened, and a tired Optimus stepped in, rather clumsy on his peds.

"Y-Your early." Ratchet observed, removing the arm from his abdomen and moving to a more comfortable laying position on the couch.

"I... wanted a little time off so I could discuss some matters with you." The Prime replied, coming to stand in front of the couch and gazing down at his mate with dull optics. "How are you?"

"Been better." The medic shrugged.

Suddenly, he gasped abruptly as a horrible pain hit his middle hard, worse than all the others he'd encountered before; Ratchet surpressed a cry and gripped the edge of the berth, squeezing his optics shut, waiting for it to pass, but it kept going. He gave a quiet yelp and gripped the edge of the couch tighter, biting his lip and holding his breath.

Optimus lowered to his knees, so he was at level with Ratchet's abdomen, and rested a servo gently on the medic's stomach, where his sparkling was creating pains.

"Your hurting your carrier, Little One." He said softly, stroking with his thumb a little.

Ratchet couldn't help but smile, Optimus's touch relaxing him a little, when the pain appeared to slowly cease, as if the sparkling was responding to Optimus's touch and words. Optimus began to rub his middle softly, a small massage, which eased the pain much more, and Ratchet sighed with relief. Optimus watched his face as he massaged Ratchet's abdomen slightly with his one servo, doing his best to relieve his hurting mate of the pain, when Ratchet reached and rested his servo on his.

"Optimus..." He murmured, his gaze meeting his mate's.

"I want to apologize. I've been neglecting you this last week, and it's been breaking me inside... your my mate, and I should've been there for you. Has this pain been going on for long?" The Prime took Ratchet' servo in his and asked, his expression becoming concerned.

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