TITLE:
Trust
SERIES: Imperfection, part 12
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned
by
people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can
do.
Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize
FEEDBACK: Loved
This picks up on Jazz's remark in 'Empty'
that Ratchet
offered to do a full system check on Barricade...
Ratchet had treated his share of Autobots and Decepticons, before and
throughout the war on Cybertron. He was a medic, so the patient’s
faction
was secondary to his health. Some of his colleagues and many of his
friends
couldn’t understand his dedication to the cause of medicine, but
Ratchet
stood by his principles. He would never deny anyone help, whoever he
was.
The last battle for the Allspark on Earth had left damage with all of
them,
including himself. Optimus Prime had
suffered quite
some damage, but nothing too serious. Ironhide and himself
had looked scraped and bruised, but the deeper systems had been left
unscathed.
Bumblebee had been the worst off. Reattaching his legs had been
Ratchet’s
priority.
He had even brought one of their own back
to life. It
was all in a day’s work, so to speak.
When he had offered to check Barricade, he had expected the Decepticon
to
decline.
He had.
Several times.
The Decepticon’s presence among them had given Ratchet a feeling of
unease at first. Barricade had been the enemy for too long to just
welcome him
as if he was an ally now. Well, he was an ally now, but not one that
had first
been neutral. He had killed Autobots, had destroyed sparks, and he was
still a
Decepticon. If not for Megatron killing Jazz and betraying Barricade
with it,
the shock trooper would still be the enemy.
But he wasn’t. Optimus had made it clear that he accepted
Barricade’s defection. Prime had known about the connection to Jazz and
Ratchet had been dumbstruck when he had first heard it from Ironhide.
The medic knew about spark sharing and he knew how special it was, but
Barricade and Jazz? Well, there had been other partners with more
extreme
differences, and Jazz wasn’t so much different, just… he covered it
all better than Barricade, who wore his colors openly.
Barricade hadn’t set a foot in the Autobot base since the ‘sparrign
session’ that had been more like an all-out cat fight, and Ratchet
hadn’t expected him to. Jazz’s request to do the medical scan
somewhere Barricade felt safe, somewhere neutral, had surprised him.
Jazz was
one very persistent Autobot and he cared about his companion’s health,
so
finally, after months of cajoling, Barricade had agreed to the scan. He
wouldn’t come into the Autobot base, but Ratchet didn’t need his
diagnostic tools to make a first assessment of a patient’s health. His
own systems were fine-tuned enough.
Barricade was a silent, rather tense patient. He sat on an old cargo
container,
stiff and wary, while Ratchet ran his system checks.
The results were rather… serious. There was a steady power loss to one
of
his core systems, something that wouldn’t start any alarms until it was
almost too late. It was like a cardiac problem with humans. Sometimes
even the
serious ones slipped by a human’s notice until it was
too late to help. Add to that a hairline crack in the outer spark
casing and
Ratchet had every reason to feel worried.
Barricade’s optics flared briefly at the diagnosis. Jazz’s
expression was one of barely hidden shock. Neither had expected
something that
serious.
“I need to fix it, Barricade, and I can’t do it here. You
won’t feel a change to your systems for now, but it will get worse and
when it reaches a certain point, things will get ugly,” Ratchet
explained. “I can fix the faulty systems and I can clean out the rest
while I’m at it.”
The Decepticon was aware of it, but he didn’t look too happy. It meant
going off line completely while in the Autobot base, with the
‘enemy’ around him.
Ratchet gave him an imploring look. “I’ll let Prime know about it. You
have my oath as a medic that nothing will happen to you.”
The optics narrowed and a slight sneer appeared on the dark features.
“You
can’t guarantee it, Autobot.”
“Do you really believe any of us so petty to try and harm you while
you’re on my operating table?”
“Aside from one Autobot, I trust no one.”
“You don’t have to give me the trust you place in Jazz. Just trust
me to repair you without intentional harm.”
Jazz stepped forward, placing a light hand on Barricade’s shoulder
armor.
It was a gesture more telling than anything Ratchet had ever seen
between them.
Red optics met blue and Jazz smiled grimly.
“I’ll shoot Ironhide myself should he interfere,” the
specialist said calmly.
Barricade had no other choice and he knew it. This would kill him and
he was a
survivor, he would fight with whatever necessary to stay alive.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Barricade was no fool. As a warrior he knew he had to be in peak
condition, no
matter where he was and what the circumstances were. When he had first
arrived
on Mars, energon reserves had been pretty much unlimited. Mars wasn’t
the
same as Earth and they could openly convert what they needed from
natural
resources. Every Cybertronian’s protoform was equipped with the
rudimentary means of energon conversion from all kinds of sources.
After their arrival on Earth, fuel had been readily presented in even
more
variety. Humans used fossil matter to power their own machines, had
nuclear
matter, natural resources and more. The downside was that the easier
something
was to get, the easier it was to use it. Like fast food, he mused. It
was
unhealthy, but it was so easy to achieve a state of sated pleasure.
Barricade had had to turn to such fuel sources more and more after the
death of
Megatron and the defeat of the Decepticon forces. He had been hiding,
recovering from damage, licking his wounds, and whatever he had managed
to
steal, he had taken. He hadn’t been picky. His body had needed fuel to
function.
Now he was paying the price. There were deposits and sediment and
brittle fuel
tubes, suffering from taking in such mediocre, sometimes downright
cheap,
nourishment.
Jazz’s revival and Barricade allying himself with the Autobots had
changed
nothing in his behavior pattern. He still skulked around gas stations
and
refineries to steal what he needed. Barricade was loath to turn himself
over to
the Autobots in his need. He knew Jazz disapproved of his behavior, but
it was
a matter of trust. And he wouldn’t take alms out of pity, even though
his
partner had managed to convince Barricade once to take in refined
energon. It
had been an incredible taste.
Still… he wouldn’t turn to Optimus Prime and beg.
Jazz called it misplaced pride and Barricade’s useless stubbornness.
Barricade called it caution.
That his systems complained sometimes was nothing new either. He
usually spent
a few hours parked in a safe spot, running maintenance, but it wasn’t a
solution. A medic could do so much more, but the only medic on this
planet was
an Autobot. Barricade wasn’t sure he would have trusted a Decepticon
medic either, though his own faction placed value on keeping their
warriors in
perfect fighting shape.
::Cade?::
He cursed softly to himself. He hadn’t even been aware of Jazz coming
closer through their connection.
::What?:: he snapped.
::Wow, grouchy bot! Calm down, okay? You’ll
be
fine::
He wasn’t so sure of that. While Optimus Prime was an honorable leader
of
his faction, Barricade wouldn’t trust Ironhide for a nano second. The
weapons specialist might take the chance to offline him for good.
::Barricade::
Again, Jazz came closer, surrounding him, a calming presence in the
face of an
emotional thunder storm.
::Nothing will happen:: the Autobot
insisted. ::Nothing::
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Jazz had insisted on staying throughout the repair. Ratchet had agreed,
as long
as Jazz didn’t get in his way. The silver Autobot had given him his
word
not to interfere. He had accompanied Barricade into the base, both in
vehicle
mode, and none of the others had been present – as by Prime’s
orders. Ironhide had growled and muttered to himself, but he and
Captain Lennox
had driven off without much fuss after that. Bumblebee had only nodded
and
decided to stay with Sam until he was called back.
Only Prime was present and he looked at the smaller mechanoid as
Barricade
transformed. “Welcome to the Autobot base, Barricade,” he said,
sounding almost formal.
Red optics darted cautiously around.
“There is no one here but you, Jazz, Ratchet and me.”
Barricade nodded, still radiating a lot of tension. His claws flexed a
little,
but he showed no visible weapons. Jazz was at his side, looking just as
tense,
but it was a different kind of tension. This was more worry than
anything else.
Optimus had known about Barricade’s connection to Jazz ever since it
had
happened such a long time ago. He had been surprised, and that was a
mild word
for it. But like all of his kind he knew how rare and how precious such
a
connection was. Not all sparks had a resonating other half and the war
had
killed too many on both sides. Most would never be as lucky as Jazz had
been in
finding this one particular resonance.
That Barricade had turned to Megatron’s cause had worried Prime in the
beginning. Jazz had become a liability. Only when his First Lieutenant
had told
him that whatever Barricade did, it would never harm his partner had
Optimus
felt a sliver of relief. He didn’t doubt the word of the black
mechanoid,
even though he had become a Decepticon, because spark bonds were so
intimate
and complete. Lies were impossible on that level. Deception
even less.
Now Barricade had become an ally and Jazz’s moods were brighter. There
was a happiness to the silver Autobot that
was
sometimes almost infectious. Jazz was working hard on having Barricade
accepted, and to have Barricade accept the alliance in turn. That he
now
required serious medical help had hit Prime’s First Lieutenant hard.
As both mechanoids walked into the medical area,
Prime met
Ratchet’s optics.
“Do you need anything, Ratchet?” he asked calmly.
“For you to keep Ironhide away. Barricade is
ready to snap at the slightest move anyway. What I’m going to do
requires
him to go into complete stasis lock, to trust me with his spark, and I
don’t need him to look over his shoulder all the time. He can fight me
even in stasis lock and I don’t need that complication.”
Optimus nodded. “Ironhide has specific orders only to return when I
tell
him to. Will promised to do whatever it takes to keep Ironhide from
coming
closer than within twenty miles.”
Ratchet smiled briefly, then followed his
patient. The
next hours would be difficult.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Ironhide had left the Autobot base under protest and hadn’t stopped
complaining and grumbling until well on the way to the coast. Captain
Will
Lennox had let him get it out of his systems, so to speak, listening
with half
an ear and grunting in reply whenever Ironhide demanded to know if he
didn’t agree to his risk assessment of Barricade inside their base.
The rant was winding down around
“You done?” he asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
“Not by a long shot when it comes to Decepticon scum!” was the
growl.
“Barricade’s no longer a Decepticon.”
It was an age-old argument.
“Once a Con, always a Con!”
Yes, really old.
While Will had had his run-ins with Decepticons, had lost men in
But there was no winning an argument against Ironhide. He was one of
the oldest
Autobots and the one with the worst experience in war, it seemed, and
he hated
Decepticons with a passion.
At least he gave Barricade the benefit of a doubt sometimes because of
Jazz. There
was no arguing with that connection.
They stopped at a small restaurant for a quick lunch and Will enjoyed
the
relative calm and quiet of the ocean front setting. The food was very
good and
he splurged by getting dessert and coffee afterwards. Ironhide hadn’t
said a word since he had parked himself in the back of the parking lot.
Then they were on their way again to a remote beach that was almost
inaccessible to normal vehicles and saw no visitors even on sunny days,
aside
from alone hiker or two. Will lay back in
the sun and
soaked up the warmth.
Nice. Really nice. The sound of the surf
had a lulling
effect.
Ironhide sat next to him, gazing out over the ocean, watching the waves crash into the sharp outcroppings of rock.
“Any word?” Will asked after a while.
“No,” came the rumble.
Ow, that sounded like Ironhide was almost tearing a vocal processor.
“Relax, big guy. Or don’t you think Optimus made the right
decision?”
Blue optics narrowed and glared.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Jazz watched every move Ratchet made and if that made the medic
nervous, he
didn’t say or show it. He had taken off Barricade’s armor and
removed whatever lay between him and the spark casing. Barricade had
gone into
stasis lock, but Ratchet had seen the reluctance in the red optics. He
understood the feeling.
Would he trust a Decepticon medic not to kill or disable him
permanently while
under?
As he scanned the fine crack in the casing and the surrounding systems,
he made
last adjustments to his instruments, then
began to
close the dangerous injury.
Jazz was silent, his spark aching in sympathy for his partner and he carefully felt along the bond between them.
Barricade was
in stasis, which meant there was no consciousness to respond to his
approach,
but he felt better this close than just looking in from the outside.
::Nothing will happen to you:: he murmured,
repeating
his earlier words, even if his partner couldn’t hear him. ::You’ll
be fine’::
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Ratchet had found several glitches throughout his systems checks and
had
reworked them into functional subroutines once more. He had replaced
old muscle
cables that showed wear and tear from neglect, and had gone over almost
every
system while Barricade was on his examination table. There was a lot
that told
the medic that the former Decepticon had suffered extensive damage in
the last
months and repaired it himself. Up until the battle for the Allspark he
had
been in peak condition, probably maintained in part by Frenzy, but
afterwards
he had had to work with his own basic knowledge and what fuel he had
been able
to steal from the humans. His energon pump had oily deposits from bad
fuel and
he cleaned that out.
“He should have come in earlier,” Ratchet remarked.
“I know,” was Jazz’s quiet reply. “It’s a matter
of trust.”
Ratchet nodded and reconnected another abused circuit he had replaced.
“He has to stay in stasis for a little while longer,” the medic
went on. “His circuits need time to go back online slowly. I’m
giving him an energon feed and simultaneously start a cleaning program.
I’m
flushing all the old lubricants and energon deposits out of his system.”
“Thanks, Ratchet.”
The other Autobot smiled tightly. “You’re welcome.”
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Barricade woke to the warm presence of another spark close to him.
Rudimentary
systems hummed softly as they powered up. He turned to the familiar
softness.
::Hey. Awake?::
Jazz asked,
sounding lazy and totally at ease.
Barricade couldn’t but mirror that feeling. If Jazz was relaxed there
was
no danger. Memories of where he was teased him, but he chose to ignore
them for
the moment, savoring the privacy and the utter comfort of being with
his
partner.
::Yes:. He answered.
::How do you feel?::
He checked his systems. ::Surprisingly good::
The other spark nudged him a little. ::Ratchet’s
good::
::For an Autobot::
Jazz chuckled. ::Be a nice boy, Cade, and
say thank
you to Uncle Ratchet::
::Definitely too long on this planet:: Barricade grumbled.
Their sparks briefly intermingled, then
Jazz pulled
back. ::Time to come back and let Ratchet
check out
your pretty new and shining systems:: he teased.
Barricade sent what could double as a deadly glare, but it was only
mostly
annoyance. He rechecked his systems, then
brought the
rest of them online. Sight and sound returned, as did sensation to his
sensors
along his armor.
“Stay where you are, Barricade,” a voice he identified as
Ratchet’s ordered before he could move a muscle cable. “I need to
run system checks.”
While the Decepticon in him bristled at the order from an Autobot,
another told
him that this Autobot was a medic who had just fiddled around with his
systems.
He should follow that order until he knew what had changed.
::Good boy:: Jazz whispered, laughing.
::Oh shut up, Autobot!:: he snapped.
While Ratchet did whatever he was doing, Barricade let his own programs
run
over the changes. He was astounded to notice that all routines were
running at
peak efficiency. Ratchet had not only fixed a serious problem but also
cleaned
out whatever energon deposits there had been, had replaced old cables,
wiring
and tubes, had removed all the old fuel remnants and infused new
energon, and
he had exchanged several old parts for brand new ones.
Barricade looked at the medic as Ratchet busily checked everything,
wondering
why.
::Because he cares:: Jazz murmured, still
very close
and using their electronic connection.
::I’m not one of you::
::You are enough one of us for him to matter::
Barricade mentally shook his head at his partner’s wording.
::You’re an ally, Cade. And you are my
partner,
sharing my spark. He wouldn’t let you suffer. I wouldn’t let him
let you suffer:: The last was said with a
trickle of
dark menace.
“Good as new,” Ratchet interrupted his reply. “Mostly
new in some places.” There was a smile in the words. “Take
it easy on the systems for the next few days. If anything hiccups, and
I mean
anything, come to me.”
Barricade looked into the stern optics. “Why should I, Autobot?” he
wanted to know.
Ratchet almost sighed. “Because I’ll sic Ironhide on you if you
break down out of false pride, Barricade,” he replied, voice filling
with
anger. “You’re our ally and your health is my
responsibility.”
Barricade’s optics narrowed, but a silver hand clamping down on his
shoulder had him swallow his nasty reply.
“Leave it, Cade. Just accept it.”
::Not a word:: Jazz warned, using the
connection
again. ::You can yell and snarl and growl
and bitch
when we’re out of here. Ratchet saved your life. Be nice::
“I’m not nice,” Barricade hissed out loud and slid off the
table, glaring angrily at his partner. Then he stalked out of the
medical area.
Jazz sighed, shooting Ratchet an apologetic look. The other mech just
chuckled.
“I take that as a ‘thank you’. Go after him and keep him from
overtaxing his systems.”
“Ratch… thanks. For everything.”
“You’re welcome. I know what this means to you. I also know
what it means to him.”
Jazz nodded once, then left.
Ratchet felt a smile cross his lips. Yes, he knew what Barricade meant
to Jazz,
what his health and survival meant. He also knew never to expect a word
of
thanks from the former Decepticon. He might have defected from
Megatron’s
cause, but he was still the same as he had been before. His voice box
would
probably break beyond repair if he had to thank an Autobot.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Barricade knew he owed Ratchet his life, but there was a blockade
inside him
that stopped him from approaching the Autbot and expressing his
gratitude. He
had left the base and transformed, seeking a solitary spot at the far
end of
the former Airforce grounds. Jazz was with him, a silent, welcome
presence, and
they didn’t need to talk about anything that had happened. That was the
good thing about Jazz: he wouldn’t talk him to death.
They were parked close together, Jazz’s bumper pushing gently into
Barricade’s fender.
As the sun set and the temperatures dropped, Barricade felt his tension
drain a
little more. Ironhide hadn’t returned yet and none of the other
Autobots
had made themselves a nuisance. He wouldn’t stay at the base; he
didn’t feel well here. But he would follow Jazz’s request to refuel
here once in a while, as well as get his filters cleaned out from fuel
deposits.
It was about the only compromise he was willing to make.
And it was all Jazz ever asked.