Bee - Chapter 7

Version: Bayverse
Characters: Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, Jazz, sparkling
Location: Cybertron, Ark's shipboard, desert between Autobot and Decepticon territory

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the next two days the Autobots worked diligently to repair the ship, but the work seemed endless. Again and again they discovered hidden faults, and the outer cladding was more damaged than they first thought. Ratchet had a lot to do, as he was the most competent with all aspects of the repairs. The injured child however was not left alone for even a moment: they took turns supervising him, anxiously making sure that nothing would disturb him. Once everyone learned which instruments they needed to pay attention to, Ratchet was able to leave the med bay so that the Ark could be repaired as quickly as possible.

Jazz sat quietly alongside the berth the second evening, and watched the shadows dancing on the walls. The storm had still not abated, but like everyone else, he acknowledged the benefit of this. It would be more difficult to find them. If they were looking for them at all. Starscream probably couldn't count on any commendation when Megatron arrived since the Autobot prisoners had slipped away, especially because Optimus was also among them. But would they also look for the little runaway? It didn't seem too likely; the Decepticons obviously had more important things to worry about than an escaped child. However, if they did find him, he would not survive the new penalty, Jazz was sure of it. He shivered at the thought. Nevertheless, it was time to check the displays again.

Just as he was about to sluggishly get up from the crate, a strange, faint sound caught his ear. He suddenly froze and listened. Maybe the noise came from the hangar, where the others were trying to lift into place one of the engines that was repaired that afternoon? Or the storm caused it? No, the sound came from somewhere closer. Maybe... no, it can't be! Jazz excitedly knelt on the crate, ignoring the stabbing pain in his injured leg as he eagerly watched the sparkling lying on the berth. He was becoming more certain that that was what he had heard. He only had to wait a few moments for the sound to repeat itself: a weak, soft, plaintive whimper. Stunned, he stared at the sparkling for a moment, then sent a message through the ship's comm system to the hangar. In his excitement he didn't even notice that he was yelling.

“Ratchet, come here quick! Hurry!”

The Autobot medic must have expected something dire because he arrived with a terrified look on his face, and in his haste he almost fell over the chest of spare tools that were waiting to be repaired. The others came running behind him.

“What happened?!” he asked alarmedly. Jazz however did not answer, he just stared at the child. Then they all heard it: an almost inaudible groan echoed in the resulting silence. They all stared avidly at the motionless little one. He did not open his eyes, but it seemed as if one hand had twitched. The Autobots kept staring at him. Optimus slowly lifted a hand, and, like the first night, gently stroked the child's nape, then his injured arm, taking care to not cause any pain. The unconscious sparkling instinctively responded to the gentle touch, grasping the giant metal finger that was touching his palm. The spectacle lasted only a moment, then the tiny hand fell down feebly and did not move more. The air in the medbay stood still for a minute, but Ratchet recovered quickly. He touched the sparkling with his palm in a few spots, pausing a bit each time as if examining something. He shared his observations with his comrades.

“Dangerously high heat is radiating from his body. His systems are completely overexerted.”

“Just from moving?”

“No, the healing process requires a lot of energy from him, perhaps more than he is capable of providing in his current condition.” Ratchet gingerly slid one arm under the sparkling's chest and abdomen, and laid the other on his back. Then he carefully smoothed the armor plates of his forearm along the child's body.

“What are you doing now?” Ironhide stepped closer, and watched with interest.

“I'm trying to use my own armor to dissipate the excess heat from his body, to lessen the burden on him. It is feared that more intensive cooling could have a detrimental impact on his systems' development.”

“So he won't wake up yet?”

“Not yet, but soon.”