Transformers Prime: Project Predacon

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Ratchet blatantly refused to help Optimus to contact Agent Fowler, leaving Wheeljack to assist the big bot in figuring out how the computer worked. Ratchet carried the femme's limp body to the laboratory, which doubled as their med bay. Optimus watched the medic carefully, reading his body language and calling Bumblebee over to him. Optimus ordered the scout to stay with Ratchet, there was no need to say anything to him but nonetheless Optimus wanted someone with him at all times when it couldn't be himself.

Bumblebee closed the door behind him as he entered the med bay, turning around to find Ratchet looking through his drawers in search of something. The young scout had a difficult time in keeping quiet, as he was curious to what Ratchet was searching for. Bumblebee watched as Ratchet rummaged through cabinets, chests, containers, drawers and the place no one ever looks, underneath the sink. The medic's irritation continued to grow as he bounced from one end of the room to the other. Bumblebee's bright blue optics watched Ratchet as he finally stopped moving items around in a drawer on the opposite side of the room as the femme's body. The medic's optics closed for a nanosecond and he let out an audible, and heavy, sigh of exasperation. His change in mood was so sudden that Bumblebee was taken aback by his actions in the next few seconds. Ratchet's optics snapped open and he slammed the drawer shut savagely. Because the drawer didn't automatically lock when it was closed like the ones in their original bunker, the device slid back open just as hard as the mech had closed it, a few of the contents spilling out as a result of the velocity. Ratchet was far from finished, this had just fueled his frustration more and he quickly turned to the nearby counter, swiping all of the items off in one good motion, the devices cascading to the floor and a few even shattering on collision. He let out a yell of aggravation as he turned to the next counter, this time it had a few containers of spare energon and by now Bumblebee decided it was a good time to step in, before anything else was ruined. The young bot caught the older one, pulling his arms behind his back and pulling him away from the ruined items, attempting to at least keep him restrained. The medic fought against him for a moment, struggling to get away.

"Ratchet! You're breaking things, do you want Summer to get hurt? You might do something rash and, I don't know, throw something at her." Bumblebee beeped to him, holding his forearms lightly. Ratchet pulled away from him harshly, standing in place and looking mournfully in Summer's direction. "Can I help? What are you looking for?" Bumblebee said gently, looking at Ratchet with a concerned expression. Ratchet didn't look pleased at the offer for assistance, he looked at the young bot strangely before speaking.

"Did Optimus send you?" The scout nodded attentively, giving Ratchet a thumbs up. The medic lifted his arm, pointing a single digit to the exit.

"Get out." He replied blandly, a deep scowl appearing on his faceplates.

"But-"

"Tell him whatever you want, just get out of my sight." Bumblebee still tried to protest against the medic, attempting to explain that it was an order for him to be watched, but Ratchet wasn't having it. Bumblebee did eventually leave the room, letting Ratchet win the argument for the most part.

Although Ratchet was okay with being supervised, he wasn't okay with being supervised with Summer in the room. The medic understood that Optimus was only trying to look out for his friend in these trying times but Ratchet was sure that Optimus didn't quite fathom what he was going through. The only reason why Ratchet had suddenly cracked was because every sensory node was telling him that there was absolutely nothing he could do to help his 'sparkmate' because not only did he not know how to help, but if he could, the medic did not have to materials to improve her condition. He also couldn't just build a cordial psychic patch out of junk, that plan was sure to bust.

Ratchet sat heavily on the berth that the femme lay on, covering his faceplates with his servos in despair. The medic nearly jumped out of his armor when the femme stirred, her optics blinking to life. Neither of the two moved for a few seconds in shock.