Not Only A Prime

7

(POV 3rd)

It has been a month since the medical bay has been damaged by the lobbing of three unsuspecting mechs. Everyone's nerves have eased, except for one, Optimus. He's been rather, how should I say? Stressed. Not only with the sparklings but with the near constant bickering of the other mechs. Not to mention that he is now really and truly beginning to need help when it comes to moving about, which Ratchet has done his best to help the heavily carrying mech.

Now, he lay in his own berth, uncomfortable and full of sparklings. Pillows behind his helm and upper back struts. His optics dull and irritated with his own thoughts, worry being the main one. Ratchet knew this and checked on him often, often bringing a cube of Energon with him. His servos rested on the largely round tank, he just looked at the ceiling. He was not only large in the front, but he was beginning to become wide as the sparklings growth progressed, which also added to his lack of the ability to move well.

The door to the room slide open smoothly and quietly, the creakiness and scratching of the door's mechanisms in the ship have been cleaned and replaced if needed, making everything less noisy. The medic, his bond and love walked in, the door closing behind him. Coming next to the heavily carrying mech, taking a servo on the helm of the carrier, he placed a light kiss. "Hello, sweetspark." He whispered, pulling away slowly. "I got a few data pads for you, if you'd like." He stated quietly, Optimus slowly nodded and turned his helm away. "Orion?" The medic asked, worry obvious in his voice. The Prime tried to ignore it but guilt wouldn't allow him to. It nawd at him until he couldn't take it any longer holding back.

"Ratchet, I hate this." He whispered, voice cracking. "I hate being a burden to everyone, especially you. Being like this makes me feel utterly useless, pathetic." He murmured. "Look at me, I can't even move by myself. Pit, I think I'm leaving a dent in the berth from my aft." He felt his optics begin to brim with washer fluid, he didn't even care that some started to fall. "Orion..." He took the helm of the Prime, looking into the lackluster blue optics. "You've never been a burden to anyone, especially to me." He smiled at the Prime, trying to make him smile, but to no avail. "I just - I hate you seeing me like this." More of the washer fluid fell, his servos went to cover his face plating. "I don't want to look ugly in your optics, but I'm afraid that it's too late for that." Ratchet heard the Prime's denta snap closed on each other, a violent sob erupting for the Prime. He took the large trembling servos of the Prime from his faceplate, pulling them to his chassis. "You've never looked ugly in my optics, and you never will, Orion." He leaned down, kissing the Prime's lips, trailing down to the large tank.

The medic crawled onto the berth, a creaky sound was made. His servos were laced with the Prime's as he rubbed the sides of the tank, kissing here and there. The movement made the Prime purr, his engines revved gently. The revving made Ratchet smile into the light kisses he made on the round tank, enjoying the sounds of the engine.

Clunk! The sound of the Prime being kicked filled the berthroom, the smile pressed on the medic's lips. "Little ones, help me make your carrier smile, please." He purred, sliding over to the other side of the berth. He gently lifted the heavily carrying mech between his legs, rubbing the Prime's lower back struts. Ratchet could feel the stress in the struts, thus making sure his digits made good work of it. Smoothly taking his digits through each strut, beginning to feel the Prime relax into the medic with each touch. The Prime released a sigh, not one of pain, not one of pleasure.

A knock came on the door of the berthroom, the door staying closed. "Can I come in?" The one femme that Optimus really didn't want to see at the moment, Nightblade. The main reason being that he felt that being like this was embarrassing, and allowing someone he knew to see him in such a state was undermining. He replied with a low groan before going stiff against the medic, he moved his servos over the sides of the heavily carrying mech's tank. The door slid open, revealing the silver femme with medical equipment, which squeaked as she moved into the room. The door closed. "How're you feeling, Orion?" She asked while leading the medium sized equipment to one side of the berth. He didn't answer, just a nearly constant hitching of his breathing. Both she and Ratchet noticed, both held a conversation over the Private Comm Link concerning this. At the moment, she needed to scan him and the sparklings but she mildly could relate to the Prime, with not wanting anyone to see him such a state of lax movement.

She looked to the equipment a moment turning it on and booting it up, only to turn back to a quietly crying Prime. "Why are there tears?" Wiping away the fluids that had fallen, he turned his helm away. "Orion, look at me." When he didn't make a motion she guided him to face her, she saw the dull glow he had. She wanted to make him not cry but it seemed to make it worse. "Hey," She started, sitting on the edge of the berth. "It's all going to be fine, I promise you that." Wiping away more of the washer fluid that fell, he slowly nodded, attempting to readjust himself. "Will it be alright if I scan you?" She asked in a sweet whisper, the Prime nodded with a sniff. "Okay." She let her servo fall from his cheek plate, getting off the berth.

"Will I need to get off?" Ratchet asked behind the Prime, Nightblade readied the machine and wheeled it over. "Shouldn't need to, I kind of reprogramed it to only notice his and the sparklings spark signatures. So, stay there, make him stay comfortable." She smiled, pulling over the machine and proceeded to scan the heavily carrying mech. Finding nothing "out of the ordinary", she then proceeded to take the equipment back to the med bay. Quickly returning but now with a few cubes of Energon, not forgetting to bring a Purple and Magenta one. Silently offering the purple and magenta ones first, knowing that as long as he got those down first the last Blue cube would be the easiest to down.

But one thing was for certain, he didn't want any part of having an Energon cube. This troubled both the femme and the medic, they tried persuading him to just drink them but he would just sit silently, sending the feelings of guilt across the bond to Ratchet. Nightblade finally had enough of his denials for the nourishment that he and the sparklings needed. "I won't allow you to not have your Energon, now drink up and I won't say another word on the matter, Orion." She stated clearly, a mild frustration in her optics but none showed through her voice. Placing the Magenta cube into one of his servos, she made him grasp onto it. "It's not just the health of the sparklings I'm concerned with Prime: it's yours as well." Nightblade whispered only loud enough to be heard by Prime, with that, he downed the Magenta cube with a disgusted sigh, and the Purple.

He felt disgusted with himself, not only for the fact that refused Energon for his own health; he refused Energon for his sparklings. A strong pained jab of guilt took hold of his frame. His frame started to tremble, servos shacked, optics glazed over. Ratchet felt it all, not in full force but felt it all come across the bond like a crashing wave landing squarely on his helm. "Orion..." His breathing hitched, it's like his processors were pulled from the recycle bin because he found himself being even more demeaning to himself than before. He tried to move forward but again, since earlier wasn't an indication of success, failed. He let loose a tired and irritated groan.

"Hey, I have a crazy idea. Want to get out of here? This room at least." Nightblade walked over to the side of the berth, sitting down. Ratchet thought it would be a wonderful idea to just get Optimus out of their berthroom, it really was in a dangerous way, making Optimus grow delirious and depressive. A heavy sigh was released from the Prime, "Where were you thinking?" He grumbled, his irritation slowly faded as the servos of the medic reached around to rub the heaviest and least reachable places for the Prime and massaged it. But Night didn't think that far ahead, she thought that he would get angry and roar. Or he would get upset and start to cry again, which made her spark ache knowing that she made her friend leak fluid.

"I don't know. Why not go to the oil rooms? I haven't heard the oil running since I gave you two the key." She shrugged, still sitting on the edge of the berth. The Prime slowly nodded. "Want to help me?" He whispered, a heat rose in his face plates. She smiled, lifting up Prime over to the edge of the berth. Ratchet scooted over to the opposite side of his lover and heavily carrying mech. "I'll -" Ratchet began but stopped, leaving Prime to almost question what he was going to say, but he didn't.

"Hang tight, we're going on a journey!" Night proclaimed, taking the Prime's right arm around her neck. Then reached down for his legs, she hoisted him up. She had underestimated just how much heavier he had gotten as the time had progressed. The Prime whined in her hold as she began to walk, "I can walk." Murmuring, she shook her helm, withholding her laugh. But as she walked, he relaxed in her hold, optics beginning to flicker, this making her smile a bit. "Rest, friend." The door opened and closed behind the three, the Prime half nodding before completely falling in a tired recharge in her arms.