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Ratchet stood in the middle of his (his!) med-bay. His violated med-bay. Now, normally, Ratchet had no problem with the other mechs coming in at any random time for one of the more common synths, and in fact, he had an entire wall just for that purpose, with the synths on shelves covering 1/3rd of the wall, with the remaining 2/3rds covered by a large white board with the names of every mech on base and their dose size. That was one thing. He had trained them well, they all knew to look at the board before taking the synth. But this? Not only had they taken his special sedative-synth, but they had also injected two mechs with no previous history of having used the synth, a dangerous task as a medic never knew just how the synth would react to each mech’s systems. If that hadn’t been bad enough, he had just found out about it less then a human hour ago, when they had told Ratchet to come to the brig as there was a prisoner that needed his attention. When he had seen the state his friend was in, he demanded to know why he hadn’t know, only to be told that he hadn’t been informed that he was ‘Too close to the situation at hand’. Too close? He’d show them to close! It was probably needless to say that he had had the both of them, Skyfire and what looked like a clone of Starscream, only with blue optics and Autobot insignias, moved to the high-security wing of the med-bay.

Ratchet moved swiftly to the reinforced-glass of the observatory, gazing down at his friend and the clone. As he looked down, he saw that the screen monitoring Skyfire’s CPU output had fluctuated, he was waking. He was about to go enter the wing, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him short. He glared over his shoulder at Prowl who stood there with wings erect, as unruffled by his glare as if it had been a mild breeze.

“Prime’s orders. No one goes in until they both wake up.” Prowl said. Ratchet felt his anger flow out of him, leaving him drained. It was a good idea; see what they would reveal while alone, and besides, it wasn’t Prowl he was angry at. It wasn’t his fault the poor mech was programmed the way he was. Ratchet reflected that one day; he’d have to track down that faulty line of code that inhibited his ability to show his emotions. Turning back to the room, he saw that Skyfire had sat up and was in the process of removing the connecters to the monitors so that he could close his chest plates. As Ratchet watched his friend, he neglected to notice Prowl moving up to stand beside him, watching the large mech below closely.

~~

Skyfire woke.

When a transformer wakes, it is nothing like the slow process a human goes though, the transformer is in recharge and then awake. That’s all there is to it. Skyfire used to believe that. Used to, that is, until he had entered the Science Academy and was assigned a dorm with the only other flyer in the school, a seeker named Starscream. Starscream seemed to take it as a point of pride that he took no less then 30 human minutes to fully rise out of recharge. As Skyfire looked over at his old lab-partner, he reflected on the fact that no matter how many things change, some things stay the same.

~~
Starscream woke slowly, as was his wont. He knew that he should really get around to re-programming his recharge cycle, but he had often figured, why? He wasn’t a front-liner. He wasn’t even a warrior. He was the last minute scientist Megatron brought because the mech realized it would be difficult to secure trade agreements without knowing the slightest thing of how the other side thought and reasoned.

He flickered on his optics and was on-line immediately, despite having more then ten minutes left in his recharge cycle, memories snapping into place, reminding him that he wasn’t at his quarters on the ark, this was somewhere else. He sent out a low level scan and wanted to sob at the results. He was in a cell with Skyfire. Obviously the Autobots had found out and had taken them for interrogation. He tried to remind himself that this wasn’t home, that the Cons were Bots now, with all the emotion to it, but there was still that little corner of his CPU crying out, Why? Why me? I’m nothing! Really! I mean, I’m manipulative, but anyone would be after going though the Academy! But he firmly squashed the voice and sat up, looking around. The cell was Spartan, filled with only two berths, a group of monitors, two mechs, and two cameras he could see and probably twenty more he couldn’t. He looked over at the larger mech, seeing the tired lines of his body and spoke up, because he was willing to do anything to drown out that little section of his CPU.

“So, what are you in for?” Skyfire visibly startled, obviously not expecting to hear any such thing. Once he got over his startlement, he gave Starscream a look so dirty, Starscream was surprised he wasn’t dead yet. Starscream quickly sent a message in Seeker-Cant, saying that Skyfire should, : razz lay along, slagit!:: through a quick serious of wing-flicks and engine hums.

Skyfire apparently got the message, as he relaxed and said casually “Well, I apparently did something horrendous enough to warrant my being stalked and tagged like an animal. You wouldn’t happen to have had anything to do with that, would you?” He tagged the last statement with an over-the-top glare.

“Me? Have anything to do with it? Never!” And they were off. In the middle of the friendly debate, Starscream wondered how he could have become so close to a mech in less then two months that it felt like they had been friends for orns.