GRV. Fort Lamont and Washington DC. Completing a Family

[dens_extra_pups]

Perceptor: *stretches, and then sighs and climbs over his wife, son, and daughter to get out of the comfortably padded built-in bunk. Stands and looks around the brightly sun-lit basement bedroom with its curving concrete structures, then wanders into the tiny (to Ratchet) private mess in search of a little mild, sweet bio-diesel. However, not even the prospect of his favourite treat, or the putting on of his crochet ear flap hat with the brim cheers him up. He's too concerned for Chrissy Lamont*

Ratchet: *very quiet rumble as she shifts positions, but does not wake*

WakeJumper: *quiet little clickstorm, snuggabubby, sleeeep*

Ambulon: *luxurious bitty grumble without moving at all*

Perceptor: *peers back through the doorway at them, and then turns and makes for the stairs to the main floor of the hospital*

Cat: *showing Scanner how to use a rag to dust things in the sitting room*

Scanner: *clicking and chirping happily*

Perceptor: *hops off the banister* *quietly* How is Miss Chrissy?

Cat: *looks over from dusting* She's asleep right now... She spent most of the night crying though. *small frown*

Scanner: *makes the new squidgit/razz sound she learned this morning*

Perceptor: *distracted from concern by staring up at the Headhunter unit* ...I beg your pardon?

Scanner: *makes the sound again, expressing her displeasure that Chrissy-Sissy is sad*

Cat: I honestly don't know who taught her that. It wasn't me.

Perceptor: ...It sounds like the character designated "R2D2" in Cpt. MacKenzie's favourite movies.

Cat: ... *soft snerk*

Perceptor: *shakes his head, and then looks up again* Has Sheriff Smith said when he would be taking Miss Lamont into custody?

Cat: No. And Sheriff Watson said since it was self defense, she's not going to be going into custody.

Perceptor: *relieved* *has to lean on something for a moment*

Cat: Plus, she's a minor, and having Marcel staying here is kinda her being in custody... But really, it's more an uncle watching out for his niece.

Perceptor: *small nod* *softly* Indeed. *and then he's blinking and rubbing his eyes as he sees a slender orange bot walk past in the hall*

Cat: *looks* ... No idea who that guy is.

Scanner: *looking, will chirp at the orange guy*

Perceptor: *falters as the orange bot stops and looks back with a friendly grin for Scanner* R... Rung?

Rung: That's my name, friend. Do I know you? *comes back and hunkers down to study the smaller bot through his optic enhancement aids*

Perceptor: I... I... *am crying hysterically, and accidentally bombing Ratchet with his confusion and distress!*

Ratchet: *awake and trying to get off of the berth now!*

Rung: *soft, soothing sound. Will try to comfort the little blue mech*

Scanner: *gonna hunker down and click softly*

Cat: *small frown, cell phone out to call Wheeljack*

Wheeljack: *busy ping*

Cat: *grumbles about the busy ping* Slaggit, 'Jack.

Rung: *soft meep as tiny fists thunder against his plating* Now why are you hitting me?

Ambulon: *squeal! Savin' Papa!*

WakeJumper: *beeline to back up Bubby!!!*

Ratchet: *coming up the stairs*

Scanner: *chirp and clickstorm at the tinies!*

Rung: Ow. Ow. Ow. What's wrong, babies?

Ratchet: *startled sound* *just heard a voice she hasn't heard in millennia*

Ambulon: *heard Mama! Tattles on the orange guy for making Papa cry! SO MUCH tattle!*

Ratchet: *plating rattling now as she reaches the top of the stairs*

Rung: *looks up at the big sound, and then gasps and goes wide-eyed* Senator Ratchet?

Ratchet: R-Rung... I... *have to run to go urk in the waste basket, a combination of worry and shock upsetting her tank*

Cat: *awks and calls Mikaela, will move to combine with Scanner*

Perceptor: *pulling away from Rung's grasp now. Tells the hatchlings this is a friend! A good friend! A dear friend! At the same time he's speaking comfort and running to his mate, in imminent danger of being fallen or stepped on*

Wheeljack: *pinging Ratchet and demanding to know what's wrong!*

WakeJumper: *worried bweeee for Papa*

Ratchet: *holding onto the edge of the waste bin and trembling with the force of her urk* *to Wheeljack* //R-Rung... H-he's back!// *hurk*

Ambulon: *babby meltdown is go!*

WakeJumper: *bweeeee! Fusses and loves upon Bubby!*

Mikaela: *bursts into the room in Headmaster mode, and hurries to support Ratchet* *sharply* Snap out of it!

Ratchet: *startles badly and circulates rapidly*

CatScan: *moving to pick Perceptor up and hand him to Ratchet*

Wheeljack: //Uh. Yeah. I know. He had breakfast at my place.//

Ratchet: //... How?!// *sounds so confused and brain-broken, even as she holds Perceptor close and takes comfort in his presence*

CatScan: //What the *bleep*, 'Jack? Why's the orange guy got Ratchet and Perceptor freaking out?//

Wheeljack: //I don't know! Rung never did anythin' wrong!//

WakeJumper: *scoldy clickstorm for the orange big that she doesn't know!*

CatScan: //Well, seeing him made Ratchet urk. And now Wake's scolding him.//

Wheeljack: //Ratchet, what're you pukin' at Rung for?// *sounds exasperated*

Perceptor: *softly* Please, CatScan, will you bring the hatchlings? *is clinging to his wife and speaking to her soothingly as Mikaela props her up* Or, better still. Take us, and let Mikaela bring the hatchlings.

Mikaela: *grunt of effort*

CatScan: *will move to carefully lift Ratchet and Perceptor* C'mon, Wake. Leave the guy alone.

WakeJumper: *still scolding!*

Ambulon: *still in meltdown*

Ratchet: //He vanished millions of years ago, Wheeljack! What is he doing here, on Earth?!// *feeling a bit queasy still*

Wheeljack: //He said he was gonna go see Chrissy.// *see? This makes perfect sense!*

Ratchet: //...// *helplessly confused sound*

Rung: *as hatchlings are removed from his vicinity he's standing and walking over to Ratchet, his eyes pale with concern* *softly* You should sit down, sir. Please, circulate deeply.

CatScan: *gently* Let's get you sitting down on one of the chairs, Ratch. *will help the femme to one of the nearby chairs, chirping softly all the while*

WakeJumper: *hugging Bubby and clickstorming rapidly*

Mikaela: *sets the bitties down and gets that chair adjusted so that Ratchet will be sitting low and reclined*

Ratchet: *hiding her face against Perceptor now, is trying to circulate deeply*

Rung: *gentle rubbing for Ratchet's shoulder* *in his soft and soothing voice* I'm sorry my presence distresses you. Do you want me to go?

Perceptor: *muffled* No!

Ratchet: *softly* Please don't go, Rung.

Rung: Alright. Circulate. Ouch. *looks down at the Ambulon who swatted him*

Perceptor: *more tears* Children, please don't hit your uncle!

Ambulon: 0.0 Unca?

WakeJumper: *boggling* Unca?

Ratchet: *small nod, continues to circulate deeply*

CatScan: *scanning Ratchet to make sure she and the sparklet are alright* *mutter* Heck of a family reunion...

Rung: I don't understand why you reacted so strongly.

Perceptor: Because you were DEAD! *hides his face on his wife*

Rung: *brain broken expression* ...

CatScan: ... *to Wheeljack* //What's this about Rung having been dead?//

Wheeljack: //He wasn't. All the mortar rounds missed.//

CatScan: //...// *relays this to Ratchet and Perceptor*

Ratchet: *wibbles and then she's hiding her face against Perceptor again and crying with relief*

Perceptor: But... but where have you been all this time?

Rung: *looks up, his confusion still slowing his mind down* All... this... time?

Ratchet: *muffled* The last time we saw you was *names date. It's a very long time ago*.

Rung: ...Yes. I remember the day.

Mikaela: That was over nine million years ago. Before the war.

Perceptor: *softly* Actually, it was the day before the war officially started, with Megatron's betrayal.

Rung: ... War?

CatScan: //...Wheeljack, what did you do? Rung has no idea the war even happened.//

Ratchet: *staring at you with disbelief, Rung*

Wheeljack: //He's a gentle guy. Of course I never told him all that slag!//

Rung: *beseeching expression of confusion for everyone in the room*

CatScan: //What. Did. You. Do?// *expression so stern* *will share an image of the group*

Wheeljack: *grumpy now* //What the *deleted* are yous talkin' about, Kitty?//

Ratchet: *quietly, sounding so very confused* The civil war...

CatScan: //How the *bleep* can someone not even have a memory of the start of the war, and have no idea what Percy and Ratch are talking about when asked where he was all this time?//

Comet: *standing there with a badly battered and dazed Salvage leaning against her* Because it hasn't been a lot of time for him. *glances toward the door she had to leave open as a motorcycle engine starts revving loudly and impatiently*

Ratchet: *startles badly as she recognizes young Knockout's engine*

CatScan: *startles as well*

Ratchet: *realizes she's heard the sound of a motorcycle revving before today... Just never this close. Moves to try and sit up when she sees Salvage, letting out a shocked and worried sound*

Mikaela: Ratchet, sit down! Or I will tranq your lead aft.

Rung: *so shocked at what you just said, black femme!*

Ratchet: *lays back, meekly*

CatScan: *coming over to scan the mech Comet's supporting*

Comet: *snerk* Nice, Mikky.

Salvage: *shows signs of hasty field patching, but he's in bad shape and needs emergency surgery. He really shouldn't be on his feet even if held up by a strong Seeker lady*

CatScan: Mikky, let's get this guy to the infirmary. *so serious, even as she moves to try and lift Salvage*

Ambulon: *looks up at his parents, then looks at the hurt bot. Consider. Consider. Run, clamouring, to show his few little built in tools and offer to help*

WakeJumper: *encouraging clicks! Will stay with Mama, Papa, and Unca, Bubby. You go help and learn*

Mikaela: I told Wheeljack to hustle her *deleted* over here. I can't leave these two yet.

WakeJumper: *will rest her audio against Ratchet's chest and purr. Sissy's awake now!*

Wheeljack: *comes running in, her eyes pale with concern* What'd ya cut it so close for, Comet?

Comet: Hey, I tried to avoid it, but stuff went to *bleep*.

Ratchet: *so confused now!*

Wheeljack: *as she hustles CatScan toward the operating room she's still scolding at Comet* Did ya at least manage ta stay outta Shocky's sight?

Perceptor: *head jerks up and he stares*

Comet: Yeah. Would'a loved to put one in the back'a his ugly mug though.

Wheeljack: *from down the hall* Somebody did that later. *sound of the door closing*

Perceptor: *looks at his wife* -The time machine!-

Ratchet: *complete and utter gobsmack on her face*

Perceptor: -Wheeljack's repaired it, and has been sending Comet through!-

Ratchet: -Then... Knockout, Rung, Salvage...- *hides face and cries again*

Perceptor: *soft, yearning wonder* -Who else has been saved?-


JFK Airport, Washington DC


Jean Havoc: *so very bored and chewing on a toothpick since smoking's not allowed indoors. Is monitoring planes taking off and landing, and giving guidance to the pilots that are waiting to come in for a landing*

ping: *comes to his channel* *doesn't sound like the usual ones*

Jean: *looks, brow raising* This is JFK International. Identify yourself and your course, so we can guide you in for a landing.

voice: *crackles* //English. Alright. This is the *beep* Yeah, of Cybertron. That longest strip looks right for us to come down on.//

Jean: ... *jaw drops. Toothpick goes tumbling to the floor* Er...

other air traffic controller: *getting on the phone with the higher ups*

voice: //Hello?//

Jean: ...Did you just beep?

voice: //Yes. The word I replaced is considered rude in your language.//

Jean: ... Who're you with?

voice: //I don't understand the question.// *now that it's less staticky, it's clear that this is a male voice with a slightly sharp edge, though he's being polite right now*

Jean: Blocky face or pointy face?

other controller: Jean, just clear the runway so the guy can land. Got orders from the Air Force to give him clearance.

Jean: *startles and gives the other controller a stinkeye* Sheesh, alright, Maes. *to the guy in the ship* Give us a few minutes to clear the runway so you can land, and to redirect traffic.

voice: //Oh. We belong to neither, but we would be pleased to meet Autobots on friendly terms. And understood. Holding pattern implemented.// *soft burst of screech* //We're being buzzed by small flying vehicles.//

Jean: *re-directing air traffic now*

Maes: Those are probably news choppers, and maybe some of the local small plane pilots.

voice: //...Please tell me that emulating rude gestures found on your information net will not cause an interstellar incident.// *more quiet screech in the background*

Maes: *snerk* Go ahead and flip them the bird.

younger voice: //Thanks, dude!//

first voice: //Are you sure you want them to do that?//

Maes: Cheesing off nosy people won't cause too much trouble. *chuckles*

voice: *sounds doubtful and long suffering* //Very well.//

younger voice: //What's your name? I'm Doozy!//

Maes: I'm Maes Hughes.

Doozy: //And you're human, right? Ow!//

Maes: Yup. *more chuckle*

Doozy: //Ow! *soft screech*//

younger voice: *sounds just like the first one* //This is the cooler twin!//

Maes: Is that so? What is your name? *grinning. Loves kids*

Jean: Okay. Everything's clear for them to land.

younger voice: //Uno, of course. I'm the original.//

Doozy: //He is not! We're twins. There is no original.//

Maes: Awww! *so much grin*

voice: //I swear, you two are worse than hatchlings sometimes.//

Uno: //That's Cragbuster. He's an old backfire. OW!//

Jean: *snickerfitdie*

Maes: *to Jean* Think the President'll wanna meet him?

Jean: She's probably on her way as we speak. *to Cragbuster* You're cleared for landing.

Cragbuster: //Thank you. Do we need to wait for anyone to arrive before we disembark?// *drops the cloak on the sleek, beautiful shuttle, so that everyone can now see it plainly!*

Jean: Not that I know of... *surprised not-cuss as he sees the shuttle*

Maes: Wow! *moving to press his face against the window*

rest of the air traffic controllers: *mix of shock and awe*

shuttle: *coasts down smoothly, the most smooth and beautiful landing of the day*

room: *erupts in cheers*

Uno and Doozy: *respond with 'Jeremiah was a Bullfrog'!*

fire crews: *now shooting water at the news choppers, since they're a hazard to other pilots*

Maes: *startles as his phone goes off* *quickly answering it* *surprised not-cuss* Guys! The President's coming to the airport!

Jean: ... *snerk* TSA'll LOVE that. *fresh toothpick in mouth*

blonde air traffic controller: *telling the news choppers to clear out, on the double*

some reporters: *NOT listiniiiing!*

Jean: Here, Riza. *hands the woman a cellphone and a pair of binoculars, has the police on speed dial, just waiting for the "send call" button to be pushed*

Riza: *nods to Jean, is soon reporting the news choppers to the police and the FAA*

shuttle door: *slowly lowering!*

Maes: *ganks the binoculars from Riza, focuses on the shuttle*

Riza: Maes, I wasn't done with those.

Jean: *to the rest of the air traffic controllers* Five bucks says the President shows up in the next ten minutes!

one of the other controllers: Double or nothing says twenty minutes!

door: *opens the rest, and then a huge white form, liberally marked with red, steps out and looks up*

Maes: ... That guy kinda looks like the yellow medic.

Jean: Huh? *moves to look*

bot: *looks toward the control tower*

Cragbuster: //What do you suggest we do?// *yup, he's the big guy*

Jean: *over to a mic* Well, the President's on her way over, so maybe just have everyone on board disembark, and hang out for a bit?

Cragbuster: //...I don't understand.//

Jean: ... What don't you understand? *trying to figure out what was confusing about what he said*

Cragbuster: //What do you want us to hang?//

Jean: *chuckles* "Hang out" means just relax and stick close to where you're already at.

Cragbuster: //Standbye, do you mean?// *steps away from the door of the shuttle and looks back to it and up as another bot, this one taller than himself, steps out*

bot2: *much taller than Cragbuster, squat, and massively built. Is purple with gold trim, and has two huge tires rising up above their shoulders* *folds arms as soon as they're out of the shuttle, and then gives the remaining choppers what can only be a bad natured scowl*

Jean: *boggling* Er... Who's that?

Cragbuster: //My partner, Grumbler. We've worked together since we were young.//

Jean: Oh... *perks as he spots a police escort down on the tarmac* I think the President's almost here.

Cragbuster: *as a slender, and clearly female, dark purple bot comes from the shuttle in the wake of two happily scrapping little white human-sized guys* //Is there any ceremony that we need to observe?//

Jean: *as Maes has a glee-fit upon sighting the twins* When the President gets out of the vehicle, it's polite to salute.

Cragbuster: //...Which form of salute?//

Jean: ... Right hand held straight, then you touch the side of it to your forehead.

Cragbuster: //Ah. I've found it.// *sudden quick motion as he stoops and puts his hands between the twins and the incoming cars* //Boys, that's the high ruler!//

twins: *now hunkered down like startled quail chicks*

Jean: Er... President Pratt's not the ruler. *not really sure how to explain the difference*

Cragbuster: *voice holds finality* //She is to these two.//

Jean: ... Okay then. President Pratt'll be in the black SUV with the small American flags on it. *attention back on the crew* Okay. I know the big guy's name, and the twins. Who's the girl?

Cragbuster: *stands, now with a twin on each shoulder, and looks toward the crew* *quiet amusement* //Grumbler is female. And our pilot has no name.//

Jean: ... *jaw drops*

Maes: *excuse him, he's got to laugh about this*


out on the tarmac


Grumbler: *sour look for her captain* What are you smirking about, you sorry old rust bucket?

Cragbuster: *smirrrrrrk* Nothing.

Uno: *excited girly shriek, such as only thirteen year old type boys are capable of* I see the black one!

Doozy: I saw it first!

SUV: *slowing to a stop, as are the police cars escorting it*

Cragbuster: *salute!*

Grumbler: *grumbles and does the same*

pilot: *slight smile on her delicately beautiful face as she too salutes*

SUV: *once it's stopped, two people are getting out: a blond man, and a dark-skinned woman. They both go to one side of the vehicle where the woman opens the door and the man waits, holding a hand out to whoever is inside*

President Pratt: *muffled* Dutch? India? Have either of you seen my shoes? *pokes head out, and lo and behold, she has a pretzel bun stuffed in her mouth* *had still been in bed after a stressful night when she got the call*

Dutch: *deadly calm bodyguard goes instantly to wide-eyed alarm* I zhot you had zhem!

India: *sigh* Did you look under the seat?

President Pratt: *to Dutch* I remember grabbing 'em... *ducks back in to check under the seat* Ooh. There they are! Ack! *just dropped her bun, fumbles a bit but keeps it from hitting the floor of the SUV*

Cragbuster: *stands to attention for a few more minutes, but then hunkers down and looks into the SUV* You don't need to dress up on our account, Madam President.

Dutch: *looks up, blinks, and stares*

India: *startles*

President Pratt: *startled awk, was reaching for a pair of slip-on shoes*

Cragbuster: *backs up* *uncertainly* Forgive me...

President Pratt: Er... Lemme get my shoes on, so we can talk... 'Kay?

Cragbuster: Yes, ma'am. *not "sir", as the other bots still often slip and use*

Doozy: *peeeeeeeeeeeeeks big heather eyes over Cragbuster's shoulder* 0_0

President Pratt: *slips her shoes on and exits the car. Will quickly give Dutch's hand a shy squeeze before moving to address Cragbuster*

India: *reaches and pulls the bun out of the President's mouth*

President Pratt: Aww.

Cragbuster: *confused expression as he glances from India to the President*

President Pratt: I want my breakfast back later, India.

India: *eyes straight ahead, bun in one hand down near her side*

Cragbuster: *so confused* *but then acking and grabbing as a little white form swarms over his shoulder and confronts India*

Uno: *cares not that this person is strange looking, and taller and bigger than him. Injustice has been done!* Give her back her nom, you *deleted!*

Dutch: o.0

Doozy: *down to support his brother!*

President Pratt: *facepalm*

Cragbuster: *kid grab!* I'm very sorry. They're excitable...

Uno and Doozy: *squirming, kicking, and protesting as they're lifted away*

President Pratt: I'm familiar with young twins.

Cragbuster: *stows these twins in his biggest pocket* I think these are about the equivalent to thirteen year olds among your people.

President Pratt: ... *soft snerk* I know quite a few teenagers who're just as rowdy.

pilot: *is now hunkered down and watching the humans with those narrow, smiling, warm brown eyes*

Cragbuster: Nonetheless, this isn't a good time for their misbehaviour.

voice from his pocket: WE WEREN'T DOIN' NOTHIN' WRONG!!!

President Pratt: *chuckles* I think they might like visiting Fort Lamont at some point... Anyway. Hi. Welcome to Earth. *smile*

Cragbuster: *frown fades from his rather homely but very human-like face* Thank you, Madam President.

pilot: *silent nod*

President Pratt: This is prolly going to come across as kinda rude, but are you related to Ratchet, by any chance? *curious*

Cragbuster: *soft gasp as he sits up and stares at her* Ratchet???

President Pratt: Yeah... The Autobot CMO. Do you know her?

Cragbuster: *looks up at Grumbler, who ignores him. Seems uncertain as he looks back down at the President* She's... She was... *shutters optics and tries to keep his shoulders from shaking*

President Pratt: She's alive and well... Even if she does have to help rein in nutbars at the base. *thinking that this guy is Ratchet's brother* *slight shoulder shrug* We can arrange for you to meet her, if you want?

Cragbuster: *manages to nod, but is pretty overcome. And the twins have stopped yelling*

pilot: *pat pat for Cragbuster*

President Pratt: So, the real question now is, do you want to fly down there, or do you want to scan a vehicle for a local alt mode and drive down?

Grumbler: *makes the ground shake slightly as she takes a stomp forward* We need alt modes anyway.

Dutch: *stares with shock at the female voice coming from that bruiser*

President Pratt: Okay. Um. *tips head back, a slight frown coming to her face as she thinks* We might need to call one of the Generals for this. I don't know cars or vehicles very well... Aside from what the Autobots already have scanned.

India: *poking at her cellphone*

Grumbler: *sudden interest in something over THERE* Never mind. I see mine. *scans, and then backs off and turns into a husky front end loader like the one sitting over there waiting to be loaded*

President Pratt: *blink. Grin* 'Kay. *looks to Cragbuster, that slight frown back on her face* You look like you might be about the same size as Ratchet...

India: *holds up cellphone screen with the Humvee of Horror displayed on it* That's what she wears.

Cragbuster: *turns quickly, oily tracks glinting down his cheeks*

Dutch: o.0

President Pratt: *meep, moves to hug a Cragbuster leg*

Cragbuster: *quizzical and uncertain look for the President*

President Pratt: Everything'll turn out okay. *much hug*

Cragbuster: *reassured that he understands her action. Quietly, with static* Thank you.

President Pratt: *more hug and a patpat*

Dutch: *softly* Maybe you better step back now, Boss.

President Pratt: *blink blink* Oh! *will move to do so*

Cragbuster: *blink of confusion, but then remembers the image on the screen and scans it and the data with it* *quietly* I have it. Thank you.

President Pratt: *small nod* You're welcome.

India: *starts to search through the phone again*

Cragbuster: The pilot won't need an alt mode.

President Pratt: They won't? *puzzled*

Cragbuster: She. *nods to the silent purple girl*

pilot: *shakes her head*

India: *shrugs and puts her phone away, then passes the pretzel bun because she just found out it's been dipped in something by having it drip on her*

President Pratt: *happily noms milk-soaked pretzel bun*

bots: *wait patiently for her to speak again*

Cragbuster: *looks like he's looking far, far away*

Grumbler: *snorts at her, but still waits with the patience*

President Pratt: *finishes the bite she's nomphing, will give the bots a puzzled look. Forgot what she was talking to them about*

India: *elbow*

President Pratt: *squeak*

Wheeljack: *just pinged the Presidential phone*

President Pratt: *acks and fumbles for her phone*

Wheeljack: //I just saw the news! DO NOT call Ratchet!// *sounds like she's flipping out*

President Pratt: ... *confused* What? Why?

Wheeljack: //Because she's already urking over finding out some friends she thought was dead ain't! Seein' her son she lost when he was a hatchling'll send her inta premature separation!//

President Pratt: *jaw. DROPS* Her SON?!

Wheeljack: //Yeah! And even code similar!//

President Pratt: *blink. Blink!* *deleted*

Wheeljack: //This *unprintable uncomplimentary* named Clarion gave 'im to her when she was still a senator back before the war. And then the *really uncomplimentary* took 'im back just 'cause Ratch wouldn' change her frame ta somethin' that could hang off'a his arm at parties. Hauled the little guy off, 'n then got himself blown ta scrap.//

President Pratt: ... *low, drawn out string of curses in multiple languages*

India: *shows no change of expression as she steps on her employer's foot*

President Pratt: *squeak*

Wheeljack: //*bleep!* Too late. I gotta go deliver Ratchet's newspark.//

President Pratt: *boggles* Oh, *explicative*! *to India* Ratchet's going into labor. *hands moving a mile a minute as she thinks out loud* We'll have to have Diehard meet with Cragbuster and his crew, and find someone to make sure everyone's healthy... Augh, and then we have to make sure that stupid *bleep* and her idiot husband don't try to make the situation worse. *pinches the bridge of her nose, is trying to think and focus*

Dutch: Your bun ist dripping.

President Pratt: *acks and nomphs bun*


that evening


Ratchet: *comes online with a soft groan, then blearily blinks and tries to figure out where she is* *confusion clears as she realizes she's in her family's bedroom, which means that she's very likely on the bunk. Will try and lift her head to look for Perceptor, WakeJumper and Ambulon*

Perceptor: *sleeping on his face on her chest where her protective grill usually is, one arm around a plump little form who shares his blue colour and who is actually shorter than he is*

Ratchet: *brows draw together in confusion, will scan and study the little bot*

sparklet: *female, and a bit too young to be born, but contented as she lays there sleeping hard. Also carries a mix of Ratchet and Perceptor's coding*

Ratchet: *very soft gasp, will move to put a gentle hand over Perceptor and the sparklet*

Perceptor: *slight motion and a sending of affection without waking*

Ratchet: *wibbles and tries not to cry*

Rubber Ducky: *is a soft mow from next to the bunk*

Ratchet: *looks that way, confused*

Cragbuster: *sitting on the chair by her bed, his expression full of apprehensive concern and his arms full of his sleeping younger brother, sister, and her very wakeful half grown kitten*

Rubber Ducky: *mow. Wanna pee*

Ratchet: *puzzled frown. Is trying to work out who this very familiar-seeming bot is* *quietly, so as not to wake Perceptor and the sparklet* The kitten needs to be let down, so it can go to its litterbox...

Cragbuster: *looks down. Softly* WakeJumper, the kitten needs the litterbox.

WakeJumper: *sleepy sounds as she unshutters an optic and clicks softly to big Bubby*

Cragbuster: *smiles at her* Rubber Ducky wants down.

Rubber Ducky: *wriggles agreement*

WakeJumper: *yawns and moves so she can put Rubber Ducky down* *clickerfit*

Rubber Ducky: *used to climbing bots. He bounces down easily and runs from the room*

Cragbuster: Shhhhh. *softly* You don't want to wake o-your baby sister. *remembered what Wheeljack told him just in time*

WakeJumper: *more yawn, will snuggle Bubby and big Bubby*

Cragbuster: *cuddles the hatchlings and looks back to Ratchet*

Ratchet: *very small smile on her face* *softly* They're certainly fond of you...

Cragbuster: *snort. Nod* Yes. They wouldn't permit me to leave after I looked in.

Ratchet: *very soft, amused snort* *also sleepy blinkings as she tries to keep from nodding off* *softly* What is your designation?

Cragbuster: *hesitantly* My mother named me Cragbuster.

Ratchet: *slight frown as she tries to remember if she knows anyone by that designation, is almost certain she's heard it somewhere before*

Cragbuster: *gently* You should rest.

Ratchet: *soft sigh and a small nod* *more to herself than to Cragbuster* Know I've heard that name before... *will move to get comfortably situated once more*

Cragbuster: *gentle touch for her shoulder* Do you want the warmed tarp?

Ratchet: *nods* *quietly* I think Perceptor and our daughter would enjoy the warmth as well. *still slightly puzzling over where she heard Cragbuster's name before*

Cragbuster: *reaches one handed and pulls the tarp up, apologizing to someone at the foot of the bunk as he does so*

Rung: *quiet, woozy murmur from where he's been tucked into a storage shelf*

Ratchet: *will try and scan out of habit*

Rung: *just a bit stressed*

Cragbuster: *his own medical grade sensors pick up what Ratchet is doing* He tried to watch the exhuming of Cornflower's protoform.

Ratchet: *so much confusion* Exhuming?

Cragbuster: *sends her a file of her sparklet's birth*

Ratchet: *studying the file for a few moments, and then she's boggling with flat-footed shock*

Cragbuster: *leans forward with concern* What's wrong?

Ratchet: Her shell formed within my frame?! *so very shocked and rattled by this*

Cragbuster: ...Your self repair protocols built it.

Ratchet: *now understands why Blackout refuses to talk about how Chrome came into being* *and is feeling a bit woozy herself*

Cragbuster: *free hand gently tucks the tarp around her, then turns it on* Circulate.

Ratchet: *working on that, will rest her head against the pillow as well*

Cragbuster: *starts to hum softly, a song he doesn't know that he learned on his mother's knee after it had been written exclusively for her at her order to a street musician*

Ratchet: *falls silent for a few moments, trying to place the tune*

Cragbuster: *doesn't notice except that she's calmed down. Settles back in his seat to gently rock the two hatchlings in his arms, still humming*

Ratchet: *stiffens suddenly, optics going white as memories she'd locked away suddenly flood her processor as the musical key unlocks them*

Cragbuster: Ack! Ratchet? *scanning!*

Perceptor: *sits up, his own eyes white*

Ratchet: *pained sounds, systems reacting to the sudden influx of data*

Perceptor: *crawls up to put his hands on her face and try to block the onslaught* -Ratchet? Can you hear me?-

Cragbuster: *sits back and anxiously watches his mother's husband, trusting the trained medical unit to know what to do*

Ratchet: *mental presence is reeling and trying desperately to hang onto Perceptor's voice as a point of focus* *sudden, pained keen, and then she's sagging against the pillow again*

Cragbuster: What's happened??

Perceptor: *softly* It's alright. She's rebooting to assimilate the data that she'd locked away.

WakeJumper: *worried clickstorm, is snuggled against big Bubby and hugging Ambulon-Bubby*

Cragbuster: *spark hammering with anxiety as he watches Ratchet's face*

Perceptor: *soft murmuring as he responds to a kitten-like squeak and slides under the tarp to comfort his newspark*

Ratchet: *nearly inaudible groan once she finishes rebooting, optics flickering slightly as she once more comes online*

Cragbuster: *scrams for the stairs!*

Perceptor: *pops out from under the tarp with baby in arms and stares after him*

WakeJumper: *so much scolding clickstorm trails back in big Bubby's wake*

Ambulon: *Sissy woke him. He's gonna complain!*

Ratchet: *twitches in response to the sound of Ambulon in distress, is trying to wake up the rest of the way*

Perceptor: *leans down and offers the affectionate gesture that usually helps Ratchet wake up*

Ratchet: *soft, pleased sound, will blink blearily to try and chase away the muzzy feelings in her processor*

Perceptor: *gently touches her nose as it moves* Do you need more, love?

Cragbuster: *has made his escape upstairs*

Ratchet: *sleepily* Might... *is trying to wake up the rest of the way. Will wince slightly*

Perceptor: *leans down and gives further affectionate gesture*

Cornflower: *squeaks*

Ratchet: *will put a stop to the kiss when she hears the squeak* *attention going to Cornflower, will try and scan the sparklet*

Cornflower: *awake, but sleepy. Is trying to figure out what's going on*

Ratchet: *will move to put a gentle hand on her back, clicking softly*

Perceptor: *softly* How do you feel, love?

Ratchet: *quietly* A bit inebriated... Processor aches like Ironhide sucker punched me.

Perceptor: You were sedated during your operation. *gently smoothing her cheek with one small hand* ...You're thinking of a melody?

Ratchet: *small nod* Can't remember where I heard it... *trails off, optics widening and becoming lighter as she recalls buying the tune for her newly adopted son*

Perceptor: 0.0 A hatchling?

Ratchet: *moving to sit up* He's not a hatchling anymore. *sways slightly*

Perceptor: Oh no. Don't get up. I forbid it! *more softly* I'll go and let him know that you wish to speak to him.

Ratchet: *wibbling as she lays back down and nods* *quietly* Please.

Perceptor: *gentle kiss for her cheek* Cornflower is seeking attention. *jumps down and runs toward the stairs*

Cornflower: *is tiny fingers exploring her mother's armour*

Ratchet: *attention going to the sparklet, will click softly and gently smooth the little one's back*

Cornflower: *tiny squeak, and continues that curious and hopeful search*

Ratchet: *thinking for a few moments, then checks to see if she has any tubing Cornflower can use to drink with* *pauses as she spots tiny hatchling feeding cups on the night stand. Will carefully reach for one*

Cornflower: *squeaky sneeze, and then an amazed look of enquiry for her mother*

Ratchet: *very soft chuckle* Bless you. *will move to situate Cornflower and the feeding cup*

Cornflower: *tries to hold cup, but can't quite figure out how to make her hands work. Looks at Ratchet again, this time with quizzical perplexity*

Ratchet: *gentle clicks, will help Cornflower hold the cup*

Cornflower: *engages fuel intake pump. Those big, sleepy eyes don't open as footsteps come cautiously back down the wide and shallow concrete stairs*

Perceptor: *softly* I assure you, she knows who you are, and wishes to see you.

Cragbuster: *GULP*

Ambulon: *bitty hmmph!*

WakeJumper: *muffled scoldies*

Ratchet: *making sure Cornflower doesn't end up with air in her tank* *will click softly*

Perceptor: *slips down from Cragbuster's shoulder and goes back to the bed to sit beside his youngest and watch her*

Cragbuster: *quietly sparksick and lonesome as he sees Ratchet's loving look for her sparklet* I'm intruding.

Ratchet: *without looking up* No, you're not.

Cragbuster: *slight static in his voice* But this is a private moment.

Ambulon: *reaches up and slaps Big Bubby with the hand not holding silicon nom*

Cragbuster: o.0?

WakeJumper: *giggle*

Ratchet: *tsks softly* How do you expect Cornflower to get to know all of her siblings if one of them refuses to sit and interact with the rest of the family?

Cragbuster: *soft gasp* You remember? Wheeljack said you didn't!

Ratchet: *quietly* She was right... But things changed, and I remember now.

Perceptor: *slight smile as he looks at his wife's memories of how the older memories were unlocked, but he doesn't look up from where he's now holding hands with Cornflower*

Cragbuster: *shivers and makes the hatchlings he's holding look at him oddly and then snuggle and click as they see his lost, nearly child-like expression*

Ratchet: *will reach for you now, Cragbuster*

Cragbuster: *walks over and hesitantly sits back in his chair*

Ambulon: *abandons ship and goes to sit by Papa and try to put part of his silicon treat into Mama's mouth*

Ratchet: *small headshake for Ambulon* You eat that. *will try and patpat Cragbuster's knee*

Ambulon: *frown, pout, click*

Cragbuster: *gonna cry silently. Can't help it*

WakeJumper: *bwees softly and hugs big Bubby*

Perceptor: *soothing touch for his wife with his free hand*

Ratchet: *very soft rumble*

Perceptor: *as Cornflower stops drinking and sighs in her sleep* You should engage the sleep protocol once more, Ratchet. You're on bed rest for the next few days.

Ratchet: ... *displeased frown*

Cragbuster: *suddenly sounds just like a male version of herself* You're going to stay in bed and you're going to rest, if I have to sit on you.

Perceptor: *surprise, and then laughter!*

Ratchet: ... *jaw drops*

Cragbuster: *stern scowl falters into confusion* ...What?

WakeJumper: *poke a big Bubby* Sound lahk Mama, talkin' t' peeps.

Cragbuster: *o_o down at his little sister* I... do?

Perceptor: *nods, still laughing*

WakeJumper: *nodnod* Uh-huh.

Ratchet: *closes mouth, huffs quietly*

Cragbuster: Oh. Well. *stern look returns as he gently tucks the tarp around Ratchet and Cornflower*

Ratchet: *doing her best not to sulk* Where's Ironhide?

Cragbuster: I was told to tell you that he decided to wait to see you till you were strong enough to put up with him, and that he's currently face down in the field across the road in celebration of Cornflower.

Ratchet: *soft snort* *can tell the old soldier's afraid to stress her, and that he's hoping his contented, overcharged, conk out will be felt over their sibling bond*

Perceptor: *smiles at her* -We won't embarrass him.- *slight mischief* -For a few months.-

Ratchet: *more soft snort, wants to snuggle*

Perceptor: *slips beneath the tarp beside Cornflower. Soft clicks and a gentle sending of affection*

Ratchet: *shutters her optics, engine rumbling softly*

Cragbuster: *shifts in the chair, but then goes stock still as her hand tightens on his knee* I'm not going anywhere... *more softly* Mother.

WakeJumper: *soft clickstorm, will kissie big Bubby*

Cragbuster: *chuckles and rubs her back* Are you going to sleep by Ambulon? *glances to where the little male is a lump under the tarp between Ratchet and the wall*

WakeJumper: *considers, headshake. Snuggles and purrs*

Ratchet: *grip on Cragbuster's knee loosening as she drifts off into sleep mode*

Cragbuster: *glances over and sees that Perceptor too is asleep. Quiet sigh as he reclines his chair and leans back* Alright. But you're going to sleep, right?

WakeJumper: *small nod, will cling to big Bubby and suck on her thumb a bit*

Cragbuster: *sighs again and once more starts humming the tune he's known all his life*

Ratchet: *systems slowing down as she settles into deeper sleep, soothed by the melody and by the fact that she has all of her children here with her* *will sleep peacefully into the night*

((Written with random_xtras))