Clever Thing | TFP AU

Prologue

"Professor Ratchet!"

Said medic lifted his helm upon hearing his name, letting out a soft sigh as a student appeared before him.

"Please, just call me Ratchet." He said in a dull tone, exhaustion lacing his optics as he raised one hand to rub them. Today had been a long day. "What do you need?"

"Sorry." The young bot replied sheepishly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment for a moment before she gathered herself. She fiddled with her digits for a moment. "Um.. do you think you could show me how to properly treat and weld a wound shut again? Y-You just went so fast during today's lesson and... and I couldn't really keep up." Her voice grew quiet towards the end of her sentence and she meekly looked away, afraid she had annoyed the older medic.

Ratchet felt a pang of guilt in his spark and his expression softened. Sometimes he forgot he needed to take things slow around these younger trainees. They didn't share the same experience level as he did.

The old medic sighed and shook his helm apologetically. "Of course. I apologize for going too fast, I'm just used to working with others of my skill level." He said with a slight chuckle as he pushed himself up from his seat.

The femme beamed and stepped aside to allow him to pass before eagerly trotting after him. "Is that why the Prime assigned you here?"

"So I could help others and learn a few things myself? Yes, I assume so." Ratchet said, a small smile crossing his face.

Optimus always seemed to know where he would do best and he was grateful for that. The Autobot leader was already proving himself to be a wonderful prime and Cybertron hadn't even been revived for an eon. The progress he had made in such a short amount of time was tremendous.

"I trust his advice and his intentions, but I'm still not sure if I was cut out to be a teacher." The old medic chuckled as he led the femme into an operation room used solely for training.

"I think you're a great teacher! It just takes time to get used to things, that's all."

"That it does. Now, the first thing you need to do is sterilize the wound using the techniques I showed you last class..."

•
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•

Ratchet left the academy that night feeling confident that he fulfilled his duties for that day. He realized how late it was when he checked his chronometer. How could it possibly be that late already? He really needed to keep a better track of time .

The streets of the newly rebuilt Iacon were quiet that night, as usual. Street lights illuminated the sidewalks and the occasional headlights of a passing citizen brightened the area for a second or two.

Ratchet walked alone, a few datapads under his arm. While he felt safe in the more secure parts of the city, he couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that something bad was going to happen. There were too many dark corners for danger to lurk in and old memories resurfaced as a result, only fueling his slight paranoia. He had to remember that the war was over. There was no need to constantly look over his shoulder or wonder if he would get shot as soon as he turned his back. Iacon was peaceful again, just like it had been before The Great War started.

However, it was hard to fully let go of the horrors that happened during those fateful eons.

Ratchet ignored the negative thoughts that were filtering into his processor and instead focused on making it home. Only one more block to go, not too bad. The medic calmed his vents, loosening his nervous grip on the datapads just a tad. He wasn't sure why he felt so unsettled tonight.

Just his nerves, he supposed, along with his imagination.

When he was about half a block away from his habsuite, Ratchet heard a noise. It came from off to his right—a dark alleyway that most likely led to a dead end. He paused out of hesitation, swallowing nervously as he turned his helm to look. His spark nearly leapt into his throat when his optics caught movement, every fiber of his being going rigid within a split second.

Rising out of the inky darkness was a tall, slender mech with abnormally long limbs. Something about his eerie appearance rattled Ratchet to his core, even with his back turned. Beneath him was a growing pool of energon, most likely not his own. The glowing substance coated his long digits and dripped onto the ground at his pedes. He didn't seem to know Ratchet was even there.

The medic stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do. Had he just witnessed a murder? That was unheard of in Iacon these days! In his shocked daze, Ratchet failed to realize that the datapads were slipping from his grip. They clattered to the ground and shattered the silence that once held the air.

The mech swiftly turned around upon hearing the noise, scaring Ratchet out of his right mind. He watched as the medic frantically gathered up the datapads and took off into the night, his visor flashing. Before the medic disappeared, he had taken a picture of him. He recalled his orders as he turned back to the dead mech laying at his pedes.

No witnesses.

—————

Heyyy, so I've decided to start another Ratchet fanfic... yeah.... XD

Hopefully this one will turn out as good as I want it to!

And before anyone says anything, yes Optimus is in fact alive and well in this story! I just couldn't bear to have him essentially be "dead" because I love him too much for that. I know it takes away the meaning from his sacrifice, but pretend he revived Cybertron in some other equally memorable way! Sorry... XD

Also, does anyone have any guesses on the identity of the mystery mech that spooked Ratchet? Leave a comment!