Chapter Text
In the months following Mandroid's attack and the mind-control of the Autobots, life in Witwicky had started to settle back into a peaceful normalcy.
After G.H.O.S.T's betrayal, which revealed to the world that their world had almost ended, most Decepticons and Autobots settled into an uneasy peace.
The deal between them all was that, with Optimus, Megatron, and Starscream overseeing any energon and supplies were dished out to everyone who needed them.
Peace was a weird taste on everyone's glossa, but by the passing of the first month life between Cybertronian's and humans morphed into a symbiotic relationship of sorts.
Energon was easily found on Earth, dwelling deep in the mantle where normal humans were unable to go but where certain bots could easily tunnel and explore.
There was worry for a bit that with the constant extraction of energon from the core would damage the earth, but it was quickly realized that the mantle constantly regenerated itself. How it did that, was unknown.
Small mines, mostly underwater and away from human life, popped up around the globe. With plenty of energon to sustain everyone for billions of years, tensions quickly melted away.
Bots who were more keen to humans offered their abilities. Race cars who had once used their speed to destroy and kill other bots, now took on the roles of models.
Car shows with Cybertronian's became more popular (with the help of polishing services from a two conjuxed Decepticons). Bots appeared in human media and magazines, those of royal backgrounds preening under the attention.
Minibots found their way into construction sites, while flyer builds were often employed to aid in pilot training and finding missing people.
That was after the end, but before that when the ceasefire had fully gone through and peace was truly established-Ratchet left Optimus' side.
He was tired of war. Tired of being with the same bots that he had been with for all these years. Not Drift, though.
Drift had wanted to travel, wanted to explore every corner that Earth had to offer.
Ratchet, though, had settled into his retirement helm-first. After the war was over and Optimus had joined humans, and their eventual betrayal and emergence of the Terrans, Ratchet had been settled with Drift on the other side of the globe.
Ratchet had sought out a quieter place, where he and Drift could truly be alone. That place, ended up being Japan. For the first few weeks, the confusion of humans having more than one language went away.
They integrated at a surprisingly quick pace, at first being regarded as weapons and treated with caution, after their appearance was compared to some human show called Neon Genesis: Evangelion things became a little easier.
Drift, though hesitant being around humans gave way when he realized that the attention he was getting wasn't negative. He wasn't being looked at as a monster, as he had been when he was a Decepticon, but rather as if he was someone to be admired.
Ratchet hadn't liked the attention at first, but he relented to the constant attention and photo-ops when he saw how happy it made Drift.
They'd been given lodgings on the outskirts of Tokyo, in a place where they could easily transform into their Cybertronian modes without the fear of organics being underfoot. Ratchet had spent a good few weeks just burying himself into his new line of work. Blending in with other ambulance models so it was harder for him to be spotted, and employed only by hospitals and humans he trusted.
The end of the war had left him antsy. After four million years of war and conflict, having no one to help he felt out of sorts.
The rush of work and the neverending flow of injured humans kept him busy. Going home every day to Drift, and just listening to his Conjux chatter on about his day was the best part of his day.
Almost a year of this total peace, and then the end had come. The sky had turned red, with the crackle of some sort of energy curling over the horizon nat breakneck speeds.
Ratchet had just enough time to see Drift's optics online, and him to slump before the light hit him too, and he was offline.
For a good few moments, it was like he was dead. He must have been dead, as when his optics onlined again he was not where he had fallen.
He was in a field. A field of electric blue flowers. A soft wind blew through the small flowers, their synthetic petals brushing at his pedes and legs.
The sky was dark, dotted with small stars. Ratchet turned in a small circle, his voice caught in his throat when he saw Drift's figure not too far from where he was stood. Ratchet started towards him, lifting a hand to reach out to his Conjux, and then the flower field fell away in a haze of murky bright green.
He awoke on the ground, his engine sparking and rumbling as it struggled to online. Drift was already up, frantically trying to get Ratchet to his pedes. The sky was the same green that had appeared in the afterlife, draped over the sky in a sleepy haze.
It slowly faded away, and Ratchet's hands shook as he reached his hand up to his audials and clicked on the comms that had been quiet for almost a year.
"Optimus?" He said slowly, "you better have a good explanation for this."
Sparklings.
Optimus' explanation was fragging sparklings?! From Ratchet's cursory scan with his optics, all of them were younger than a year! The biggest of them had just barely chosen his alt mode, and he was a fragging DINOMECH?!?!?!?
Ratchet and Drift had arrived in Witwicky to a mess. Decepticons, who to Ratchet's knowledge had actually aided in whatever was needed to save the world, roamed freely around the little town.
Most of them seemed surprised to see Ratchet, and even more so Drift. Most Decepticons avoided them, optics cast to the side and bitter battles still sour on their glossas.
The Autobots, however, welcomed them back like they had been MIA and not on vacation.
Bumblebee had actually bowled Ratchet over, the excited scout sobbing when their helms connected in a processor-boggling THONK.
"Bee!" Ratchet's voice was half a scold, and half his own suppressed sob, "frag, get off of me! I'm too old for you to be knocking into me like some sort of Constructicon!"
Bee sniffled, pulling back and holding onto Ratchet's shoulders, "sorry!" He warbled, lower lip wobbling as he messily sucked back some optic fluid that had started to leak from his nose, "I just, I haven't seen you in so long!"
Ratchet's scowl softened, and he smiled at Bee's crumbling expression. "I missed you to, scout," he replied, voice soft, "why don't you show us both to where Optimus has been hiding out?"
"Both?" Bee sniffled, looking behind Ratchet where Drift was standing, looking very awkward.
Ratchet was ready for the awkwardness, as Drift had been known as Deadlock not that long ago and had been responsible for mutliple autobot deaths. Ratchet just hoped that he had been at least somewhat forgiven for what he had done.
"Oh," Bee blinked, "um. Huh." He blinked a few more times and then nodded, hesitantly removing his hands from Ratchet's shoulders to sit back.
"Yeah, yeah. I can do that," he nodded, "Optimus is hanging out with the Malto's just on the edge of town."
Ratchet nodded, already transforming as the yellow minibot's engine hummed as he transformed into his own speedy car.
Drift was quiet, following behind the two of them like a little shadow. Ratchet did have to admit, having a dampener on his engine did make Drift a little spooky.
"You remember Dot, right?" Bee asked over comms, his voice much more steady than it had been a moment ago, "and Alex?"
"I remember the Lieutenant well," Ratchet replied, turning on his siren when non-bot cars got in the way of him, he took the lead when Bumblebee pinged him the address to wherever Optimus was, "I was the one who reattatched her leg, after all. It still treating her well?"
"Yep!" Bee chirped, "it's still a little sore in the morning, but Nightshade was able to add some more padding that helps with it!"
"Nightshade?" Drift butted in, his voice almost thin in his suspicion. Ratchet hadn't spoken, as his processor searched for any bot he knew by that designation.
"Oh, did Optimus not tell you?"
"About what?" Ratchet demanded, a curling feeling in his spark feeling like this visit wasn't just going to be a normal checkup with all of the usual suspects.
"The Terrans!" Bumblebee said as the three of them began to approach a farm house.
Ratchet had started to speak, only to clam up as his tires screeched to a stop with the appearance of an unknown bot.
A small drone, bright red in coloring, zoomed through the air. Ratchet transformed, ducking as the little thing rocketed right past him, screeching as it flew right into Bumblebee's chasis.
Drift's hands were on his blades in an instant, but very quickly it was made clear that he didn't have anything to worry about.
"You're back!" Squealed the little sparkling now clutching to Bumblebee's chassis, "Starscream and Megatron were teaching me some flight maneuvers, but then Hashtag saw you on the cameras and I knew I had to come and see you and-"
The little sparkling, a bright femme, raised her helm to look at Bumblebee only to look straight into the gobsmacked face of Drift.
"Bumblebee," Ratchet started to say slowly, "B-127," his voice grew darker as irritation grew in his processor, growing only worse as the little sparkling glared at him and clutched to Bee, who was now looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here at that moment.
Ratchet's shouting caused birds to fly from the trees, and nearly shook the earth with his rage.