True Leadership )-Predaking x Youngling Reader-(

The Medic

         "You were very careless," said Ratchet as he distracted (Y/D) with a retired police cruiser, which did the trick as he pulled the last glass shard from her neck cables, "Tell me again why I shouldn't report this to the others?" 

         "Because she will be taken away from me," Predaking was not one to plead, but the old bot had already lectured him about how idiotic it was to lose his temper while the youngling was around. "If this horrid accident isn't proof enough, she is the only femme, my brethren will fight over her like rabid dogs for a scrap of organic flesh."

Ratchet sighed with a groan as he set the youngling down from the medical berth, watching as she crawled, dragging the police cruiser by her side on a string, giggling. Her wings fluttered in her innocent glee.

         "Fine, but from now on, watch that temper. King of the Predacons or not, I will beat your aft if she comes back to me with as much as a scuff on her armor."

     Predaking was impressed by this bot's show of dominance through his tone and pointed digit. He had managed to get an audience with the medic after giving a half truth- that one of his brethren had fallen ill and he didn't trust the only medic stupid enough to treat his kind: Knockout; nor his practicing Predacon medics. Also, despite having only just found out that this strange creature existed, an actual growing Cybertronian being, Ratchet had taken a rather protective liking toward her, almost fatherly.

         "Could you make sure her systems are functional?" Predaking decided to ask instead of making a retort.

         "Well-" he grumbled a moment before watching the femme climb up the steps and attempt to jump- but he caught her before she could, "Fine. There's no safer place than the military base... granted no one decides to bridge in, but there hasn't been any meetings called, so I think we're safe for now. You're just lucky I don't need to bridge to another station like the ones on Cybertron."

Predaking nodded his helm, flinching as Ratchet pulled at (Y/D)'s wings after a basic check-up and hearing a sharp snap. (Y/D) cried for a minute as Ratchet massaged the plating, but her wails soon turned into coos as she relaxed. The king of beasts raised an optic brow. It sounded like it hurt but now she was... comfortable?

         "What did you do?" He questioned as the orange and white medic handed the unblinking femmeling to her guardian.

         "She was trying to unfold her wings." 

Well, Predaking knew that-

         "It looks like she had fallen on her back, or maybe was stepped on, crushed? I'm not sure but the joints were locked. She knew what she needed, just wasn't able to solve the problem." Ratchet had brought up a detailed scan of (Y/D)'s frame; front, back and sides. The bigger joint of her wings, at the shoulder, were illuminated red to warn of the potential hazard of being flightless, as well as other small areas. Predaking refrained from mentioning his first encounter with the femmeling and almost crushing her.

         "What are these?" Predaking pointed at these smaller, red areas.

         "Nothing to worry about," Ratchet informed, "This here is her acidic pouch, the computer simply reads it as an anomaly. And all these smaller red dots are the transformed denta that don't fit in her alt mode's intake. My computer is reading it as shrapnel, but after I saw your picture of her true form, I knew what they were."

Ratchet didn't want her transforming while glass shards were still in her neck cables, so Predaking had provided a previous picture he had taken. A somewhat blurry photo of Tapper being sat on by (Y/D).

         "I owe you much for this, Autobot Ratchet."

         "Mm- you owe me a check up every Earth month for this little one," he pat her helm, making the smaller creature brighten her crimson optics, "I've never seen the likes of her before- and I'd like to study her growth process for history's sake. The Iacon database would benefit greatly from your discovery. Of course, I would not inform anyone about her, like you have asked, it will only be between you and me."

Predaking nodded with a grateful expression, cradling the youngling gently as she hugged his arm. 

     Comparing size once more, (Y/D) was up to Predaking's knee plates, but next to the medic she was at his hips. Ratchet had difficulty keeping her still because of her seemingly cumbersome size for such a newly learning creature. She was only shorter than Arcee by about a helm or two, maybe three, yet with her lack and slow building of intelligence, it was clear she was bound to get bigger. (Y/D) muttered nonsense, holding Ratchet's digit as her optics darkened again. 

     Predaking remembered Tapper said she was trying to speak. What she was attempting to say, the king still didn't know, but Tapper claimed he couldn't remember after he somehow managed to get her to 'take a nap', apparently falling into recharge beside her. Still, the femme didn't seem to remember either, because she hadn't said anything past babbles and screeches. He wondered if Tapper was just trying to make Predaking excited for the prospect of teaching this youngling. He already was and taught her what he could when he was able. At least, he thought he was teaching her. 

         "You should get going," Ratchet sighed, patting (Y/D)'s helm one more time before saving her medical data in a hard drive, giving it to Predaking. "It will be found if I keep it. Young bots come in here and some are too nosy for their own good. Keep it with you at all times, or some place very safe."

         "I know a very well-guarded location," he nodded, "No one will find it."

     Ratchet nodded his approval, clearing the screen and its data history to further hide (Y/D)'s existence. He agreed with Predaking, the others would simply take the youngling away for who knows what. They'd see him as unfit to watch over her, especially Arcee, with her natural motherly instinct towards Jack and the others, this trait would definitely be projected onto (Y/D), as she looked and acted like a human child, aside from her size and lack of organic appearance. Predaking has no such experience. The original Autobot team does. It was a valid concern for this young Predacon femme's health and wellness, but mentally and emotionally? It was better she stay with her own kind, hidden or not.

     As Predaking left through a space bridge, (Y/D) looked over his shoulder plating with unblinking optics, smiling widely at Ratchet and waving. She liked the way he smelled. It wasn't a super clean smell like the room she was often kept in, and it wasn't an icky smell like her orange friend often reeked of. It was a natural smell, like the outside of her guardian's dwelling only- organic.

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I'm unsure how accurate the above picture is, but it gives a rough idea of how tall Dewclaw is at this age.