Fic - Choices: Aftermath
Title: Choices: Aftermath
Characters: Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe
Rating: PG
Summary: Follow up fic to Choices.
Warnings: Disturbing themes
He's lying right next to them, but Ratchet has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
He has seen the way they look at him, the way they stop themselves from touching him, the way they move skittishly around him to avoid even being in his personal space. After all, who would want someone who was spoiled, broken?
Even now, as they lie on the expanded birth they share, there exists a hair's breadth of space between his right arm and Sideswipe's chassis when before there was none. Ratchet knows Sunstreaker doesn't even want to be next to him, his yellow mate opting to let Sideswipe lie between the two of them - the excuses the warrior had mumbled about preferring the edge of the berth were so flimsy they wouldn't fool a sparkling. Ratchet can't discern their feelings. All three of them have clamped down tightly on their ends of the bond.
They really didn't want him anymore, did they?
Ratchet's vents hitch in sorrow, but he forces himself to calm himself. He doesn't want his mates to pick up the sound and think that he was having memory loops. In fact, he has tried his best to shove the entire Primus damned incident into the furthest corner of his processor, but he is still plagued by the ghosts of Vortex's touches.
Maybe his mates were right to avoid him, because maybe if they touched him his processors would imagine a 'copter in their place instead. But if this were true, Ratchet wouldn't know, because they haven't laid a finger on him outside of the inevitable brushes here and there.
Ratchet sighs, and wonders how long it would take before he's cleared for active duty again. The walls of his quarters are slowly closing in on him, and he wants nothing more than to throw himself back into his work again.
First Aid, acting CMO for now, had done an admirable job of putting Sideswipe together after they were rescued, while Ratchet just lay there, wallowing in his own sorrow. He couldn't even patch back his own mate. He was a waste of space, was nothing more than a useless mech now.
Staring at the ceiling, Ratchet wants to be held by his mates again, wants everything to go back to normal, wants a hug.
He feels the berth shifting slightly. It is Sunstreaker turning on his side, away from Sideswipe and him. Undoubtedly, they must want to get further away from him, the stained mech. He tries to tell himself that it's nothing personal, but Ratchet's spark shatters just a little bit more inside.
He just wants his bondmates back.
He's lying right next to them, but Ratchet has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
He's lying right next to them, but Sideswipe has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
He was unconscious for almost the entire duration, but he understands the severity of the decision Sunstreaker made. His twin is on his right and his mate on the other side and Sideswipe is sure none of them are recharging.
They all are haunted by their own demons of what happened in the 'Cons' brig.
Sideswipe feels guilty for the recklessness he displayed taking on both Skywarp and Thundercracker at once. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have gotten hurt, his mates wouldn't have stopped to patch him back, wouldn't have been captured by the 'Cons who found them, and this whole slagging mess wouldn't have happened.
If he hadn't gotten hurt, he could have been the one that Vortex took instead. Sunstreaker would not have been forced to make that awful decision, although it is one that saved his life. Sideswipe hears Ratchet's intakes hitch and sputter, and is sure that he would have been a better choice than the silently sobbing medic next to him.
At the same time, a small part of him, the one that he keeps tightly clamped down and blocked from the bond, is secretly glad that it wasn't him beneath Vortex, that his brother chose Ratchet instead of him. Guilty, he ruthlessly squishes that train of thought. It is so selfish of him to think that way.
But what used to be a place of peaceful recharge (and other strenuous nightly activities) is now filled with awkward silence and tensions. The three of them lie so still on the berth, afraid of disturbing the others. Not for the first time, Sideswipe wishes the whole thing didn't happen.
Sideswipe wonders if they will ever get past this.
He's lying right next to them, but Sideswipe has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
He's lying right next to them, but Sunstreaker has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
Sunstreaker wants to go out on the frontlines again, to tear, to rip those fraggers apart for doing this to them, but Prowl had taken the lot of them off duty. Can't they see he needs to do something other than to stay in his quarters cycle after cycle, afraid to touch Ratchet, afraid to meet his brother's accusing optics that this was his entire fault?
At the same time, a niggling little programme at the back of his processor runs the probability of him being captured by the Decepticons again, and the non-zero chance scares him.
Ratchet hates him now, he is sure of it. He sees the way that Ratchet flinches away from him, sees the way his mate stiffens in his presence. Sunstreaker wants to reach out to sooth him, but is afraid his touch would remind the medic of his terrible choice. He thinks it is better to give the medic his own time to seek out physical contact again.
Every time Sunstreaker shutters his optics, he sees his mate's face. Sometimes, Ratchet's face is contorted in a wordless snarl, blaming him for allowing Vortex to rape him, blaming him for choosing Sideswipe over him.
Other times, his memory banks pull up images of Ratchet's sprawled form on the floor with Vortex thrusting into him, the medic's mouth open in a wordless plea for help he was unable to answer.
It hurts especially because Sunstreaker knows all the scenarios his processor comes up with are a direct result of his choice. The whole thing is his fault.
Even Sideswipe blames him, Sunstreaker knows, for not doing enough to protect them while Ratchet was repairing the red mech.
They hate him, and Sunstreaker hates himself too. He is terrified of the anger, the rejection that would flow through the bond if he opens it up, so he maintains the tight grip on it. The silence in the bond is almost painful for someone who has lived his entire life connected to another mech, but Sunstreaker figures it beats the alternative.
He turns away from his bondmates, ashamed. How could he even lie on the same berth as his mates when he was such a strutless mech who didn't help them when they were in danger?
He's lying right next to them, but Sunstreaker has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
Characters: Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe
Rating: PG
Summary: Follow up fic to Choices.
Warnings: Disturbing themes
He's lying right next to them, but Ratchet has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
He has seen the way they look at him, the way they stop themselves from touching him, the way they move skittishly around him to avoid even being in his personal space. After all, who would want someone who was spoiled, broken?
Even now, as they lie on the expanded birth they share, there exists a hair's breadth of space between his right arm and Sideswipe's chassis when before there was none. Ratchet knows Sunstreaker doesn't even want to be next to him, his yellow mate opting to let Sideswipe lie between the two of them - the excuses the warrior had mumbled about preferring the edge of the berth were so flimsy they wouldn't fool a sparkling. Ratchet can't discern their feelings. All three of them have clamped down tightly on their ends of the bond.
They really didn't want him anymore, did they?
Ratchet's vents hitch in sorrow, but he forces himself to calm himself. He doesn't want his mates to pick up the sound and think that he was having memory loops. In fact, he has tried his best to shove the entire Primus damned incident into the furthest corner of his processor, but he is still plagued by the ghosts of Vortex's touches.
Maybe his mates were right to avoid him, because maybe if they touched him his processors would imagine a 'copter in their place instead. But if this were true, Ratchet wouldn't know, because they haven't laid a finger on him outside of the inevitable brushes here and there.
Ratchet sighs, and wonders how long it would take before he's cleared for active duty again. The walls of his quarters are slowly closing in on him, and he wants nothing more than to throw himself back into his work again.
First Aid, acting CMO for now, had done an admirable job of putting Sideswipe together after they were rescued, while Ratchet just lay there, wallowing in his own sorrow. He couldn't even patch back his own mate. He was a waste of space, was nothing more than a useless mech now.
Staring at the ceiling, Ratchet wants to be held by his mates again, wants everything to go back to normal, wants a hug.
He feels the berth shifting slightly. It is Sunstreaker turning on his side, away from Sideswipe and him. Undoubtedly, they must want to get further away from him, the stained mech. He tries to tell himself that it's nothing personal, but Ratchet's spark shatters just a little bit more inside.
He just wants his bondmates back.
He's lying right next to them, but Ratchet has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
He's lying right next to them, but Sideswipe has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
He was unconscious for almost the entire duration, but he understands the severity of the decision Sunstreaker made. His twin is on his right and his mate on the other side and Sideswipe is sure none of them are recharging.
They all are haunted by their own demons of what happened in the 'Cons' brig.
Sideswipe feels guilty for the recklessness he displayed taking on both Skywarp and Thundercracker at once. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have gotten hurt, his mates wouldn't have stopped to patch him back, wouldn't have been captured by the 'Cons who found them, and this whole slagging mess wouldn't have happened.
If he hadn't gotten hurt, he could have been the one that Vortex took instead. Sunstreaker would not have been forced to make that awful decision, although it is one that saved his life. Sideswipe hears Ratchet's intakes hitch and sputter, and is sure that he would have been a better choice than the silently sobbing medic next to him.
At the same time, a small part of him, the one that he keeps tightly clamped down and blocked from the bond, is secretly glad that it wasn't him beneath Vortex, that his brother chose Ratchet instead of him. Guilty, he ruthlessly squishes that train of thought. It is so selfish of him to think that way.
But what used to be a place of peaceful recharge (and other strenuous nightly activities) is now filled with awkward silence and tensions. The three of them lie so still on the berth, afraid of disturbing the others. Not for the first time, Sideswipe wishes the whole thing didn't happen.
Sideswipe wonders if they will ever get past this.
He's lying right next to them, but Sideswipe has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
He's lying right next to them, but Sunstreaker has never felt so far away from his bondmates.
Sunstreaker wants to go out on the frontlines again, to tear, to rip those fraggers apart for doing this to them, but Prowl had taken the lot of them off duty. Can't they see he needs to do something other than to stay in his quarters cycle after cycle, afraid to touch Ratchet, afraid to meet his brother's accusing optics that this was his entire fault?
At the same time, a niggling little programme at the back of his processor runs the probability of him being captured by the Decepticons again, and the non-zero chance scares him.
Ratchet hates him now, he is sure of it. He sees the way that Ratchet flinches away from him, sees the way his mate stiffens in his presence. Sunstreaker wants to reach out to sooth him, but is afraid his touch would remind the medic of his terrible choice. He thinks it is better to give the medic his own time to seek out physical contact again.
Every time Sunstreaker shutters his optics, he sees his mate's face. Sometimes, Ratchet's face is contorted in a wordless snarl, blaming him for allowing Vortex to rape him, blaming him for choosing Sideswipe over him.
Other times, his memory banks pull up images of Ratchet's sprawled form on the floor with Vortex thrusting into him, the medic's mouth open in a wordless plea for help he was unable to answer.
It hurts especially because Sunstreaker knows all the scenarios his processor comes up with are a direct result of his choice. The whole thing is his fault.
Even Sideswipe blames him, Sunstreaker knows, for not doing enough to protect them while Ratchet was repairing the red mech.
They hate him, and Sunstreaker hates himself too. He is terrified of the anger, the rejection that would flow through the bond if he opens it up, so he maintains the tight grip on it. The silence in the bond is almost painful for someone who has lived his entire life connected to another mech, but Sunstreaker figures it beats the alternative.
He turns away from his bondmates, ashamed. How could he even lie on the same berth as his mates when he was such a strutless mech who didn't help them when they were in danger?
He's lying right next to them, but Sunstreaker has never felt so far away from his bondmates.