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War brought death, that was common knowledge. You were a fool if you thought any different, believing you or your loved ones could do the nigh-impossible and live. The soldiers were aware of it, and the medics almost more so.
And yet Ratchet hoped.
He hoped that the small team they’d managed to put together would carry through, and that he would be there to heal any and everything he could. The loss of Cliffjumper nearly crushed that already small amount of hope entirely, but they carried on, and slowly it began to grow again. That same, pathetic feeling that no medic as experienced as him should delude himself with. He knew how bad the war could get, flashes of terrified sparklings crying by the bodies of their carriers or sires, soldiers trying to push through despite their lost limbs and rapidly draining energon-
A helpless scout, mangled and barely alive- a sparkling reduced to near scrap, desperately trying to speak words he no longer had the ability to use, terrified optics of a bot far too young to be involved in such a horrendous situation- servos that would no doubt be shaking if he wasn’t as much as professional as he was, and even then, his well trained eye could spot the very, very faint tremors he held back-
They carried on, and they were on the path to rebuilding the very world he was made from, the same world that an old friend acquaintance ruined, and the same world he would do almost anything to get back. And then, of course, it was gone. He understood, really, he did. Never would he want the human children to suffer the same fate of an entire world lost. They kept pushing, they kept trying, and then he was gone.
Optimus Prime, Orion Pax, Ratchet’s friend, his conjunx, was gone.
They’ve said the pain of losing a conjunx was one of, if not the most painful thing a bot could experience. Ratchet didn’t believe it, not until he felt it. That stabbing, wrenching pain of half of his spark being torn from his chamber. His lover, his other half, his old friend, fading and then gone. It hurt. Primus, it hurt. Ratchet had lost limbs before, repaired them, obviously, and it hurt like the pit. And yet, even that didn’t compare to the agony- the way it took every fiber of his metal to not collapse and scream his woes to the world of the primus forsaken planet they were stuck on.
Almost instantly the beat was back, that familiar pulse, stronger than ever yet weaker than before, came back to him. Doubt kept him from celebrating, half convinced that the shock of the situation had simply led him to believe that he was still there.
And then Ultra Magnus spoke those first few words, and all of the hope Ratchet had kicked out ruthlessly had slammed back into his chassis. His spark reached out instantly, all hesitation from before disregarded with the confirmation that he wasn’t simply losing it after so long. Relief, anger, desperation, fear, worry, love- everything he had been feeling pushed itself into Optimus’ own spark, and the tentative but equally relieved caress of Optimus’ emotions flooding back to him nearly had Ratchet collapsing.
His conjunx was back, and they were on the path to reforming their world. Ratchet had dreamed of the moment Cybertron was back, full of life- or growing back at the least- Ratchet would take anything. He wanted to walk the crystal gardens again, to hold his conjunx’s servo and talk about meaningless things like they did back in their academy days. Orion Pax at his side, rambling about things he learned, or about his studies. To watch Optimus break out that soft, lovestruck smile that only Ratchet could bring out. The smile so similar to Orion’s, that Ratchet was so foolishly oblivious to until after they bonded, and he finally realized. The same smile that sent his spark fluttering affection and utter adoration for the mech that his vocalizer couldn’t speak for himself.
The very same smile Optimus had given him before selfish selflessly diving into the AllSpark to revive their planet. That same spark crushing feeling returned, yet impossibly more painful the second time around. It was final. The pulse didn’t return, didn’t come back to caress his own and offer its support, reassure him that it wouldn’t ever leave him. Because it did, Optimus had left him, surging his dying affection and his overwhelming apologies before Ratchet's spark went cold and silent. The twin beating of shared sparks stopped, leaving Ratchets to beat alone, racing as if trying to make up for the lack of the steadier, warmer one that held him strong.
And when all the sparks of cybertronians began to flood out, the familiar sight of Optimus’ own zipped closer, offering them a few seconds longer of his time before jetting off to join the others.
Ratchet had been banished. He didn’t fight it, at least not as much as he would’ve liked. He knew that it was the better alternative to imprisonment. It was a hard decision leaving Earth to rejoin his kind, leaving a now grown Jack, Miko, Raf, and the adults behind with the promise of visiting. He took Undertone under his wing, and resigned to his assigned duty of catching rogue Decepticons. Clampdown was a hassle, and while Ratchet would never admit it, he felt obligated to thank the con. If he didn’t stumble upon the coward, he probably never would’ve known about Optimus’ return.
His spark nearly stopped at the sight, and he was half sure that Primus was standing out the corner of his optics with the sheer shock that ran through his frame. And then Optimus spoke, the simple call of his name, full of so much relief and affection that it jolted Ratchet’s spark back into beating. The cryopod in his arm slipped, with Undertone trying his best to catch the tons of metal, toppling back and righting himself with a salute at Ratchet’s small reprimand of needing that.
He stepped closer to the towering figure, trying his hardest to not slam into Optimus’ frame and press an audial to his chassis, just to hear that familiar sparkbeat and be sure that he truly was here before him.
“But, you were gone. Destroyed.”
“The Primes rescued me before my spark could be extinguished.”
“By the motherboard.. It’s good to see you again.”
Optimus no doubt knew what he wanted to really say, his smile getting impossibly softer.
“Hello, Ratchet.”
Bumblebee.
If Ratchet was trying his hardest before, he was no doubt about to combust with just how much restraint it took to not crush his scout in his arms.
“Bumblebee..”
Thank Primus Bumblebee missed him just as much, crushing him into a hug with a relieved laugh that Ratchet lightly returned. He pushed affection into his field, keeping it short so only Bee could feel it, hearing his sparklings voice after so long filling his already aching spark with even more bittersweet feelings.
If this is where banishment would get him, he’d gladly keep up the hunting, so long as his conjunx and his sparkling were with him once again.