Captive Part 3

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Chapter Three: The Morning After

Even though Ratchet is tired and not completely on top of his game, he still manages to smile as he watches Tracks. The downside to their kind living so long meant that kindling was incredibly difficult. The balance had been necessary before Event Zero, otherwise overpopulation would have been even more of an issue than it already had been. But ever since the catastrophic event, their populations have been dwindling. Given the energon crisis they still face, however, Ratchet supposed low fertility rates weren't entirely bad either. Wouldn't want the bitlets to starve...

He's so distracted that he does not, in fact, notice the silent mechs staring. Whether Ratchet's selfless act touched Soundwave in some way, or the mech just had a weird frame fetish, who knew? Certainly not Ratchet who had barely even noticed the others presence beyond Megatron calling attention to him the once. Then again, Soundwave is a spymaster; he wasn't meant to be noticed.

So Ratchet blithely followed after the mated pair, just happy to get away from all the eager optics of the mechs gathered in the big tent. They'd all probably just been there to see how that would turn out; no matter where you went in the world the gossip mill would be strong. Ratchet learned that while still in the Academy and even the apocalypse couldn't change that.

"Hm, so I assume the medical supplies that were stolen would be in your tent too, then?" He asks, perhaps a little more sharply than he'd meant. Still. His friends had died for those materials. He was allowed to be a little bitter at least, he thought.

"Ah, well...sort of," Breakdown says a little hesitantly, since there really was no other way to try and answer that in a way that would lessen the blow. "It's more like, our personal tent is attached to the dispensary. Knockout is in charge of any medical issues so he deals with those supplies. But everything else, I mete out. Well, Barricade too; he and I are the quartermasters."

Ratchet nods his helm, but doesn't bother saying anything else. When they arrive, the second largest tent he has seen so far is butted up against a much more modest one. Breakdown holds open the flap for his mate and creation to enter first, then nods for Ratchet to follow suit. Venting softly to himself, he does so, and blinks as he takes in the space. It's similar to Thundercracker's tent shape wise, if not a little bigger.

Made of stitched mechanimal hides like all the others. Although Knockout and Breakdown's tent had a screen propped up in the back, which unbeknownst to the medic at the moment, was where Tracks' crib was to give the two parents some sense of privacy. The domed surface of the tents made shelving impossible, but there were handmade dressers and crates for their supplies and he could see what he assumed to be their berth close to the divider in the back.

"Hang on, let me get your berth set up," Breakdown says, moving towards the back.

Though he pauses as he passes by Knockout and gives his mate a little apologetic kiss on the cheek, hoping the fact they had a guest over meant his mate wouldn't tear into him too badly later. Then he hustles over to one of the larger crates and snaps it open, and from inside, pulls out a collapsible berth. Huh. Ratchet hadn't been expecting that. Why they had it, he didn't know, and supposed he could ask later. But all he really cared about right then was getting some rest. He'd only been awake, what, about 20 minutes now? But it still felt like it'd been a whole day since he got any rest. And being knocked out from a blow to the helm wasn't exactly 'resting' either.

Once the berth was all set up beside the trunk-- several feet away from KO and BD's own berth-- Breakdown got Ratchet a few blankets as well.

"Um, well, all right. All set," he said, awkwardly, moving out of the way so Ratchet could lay down.

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