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“They’re both fine, Orion. The sparkling, who’s a mech by the way, is a bit mineral deficient and fussy. But that will go away with regular energon. Megatronus will need additional care. The emergence was difficult for him. I’ll be here daily to make sure his needs are being met, but other than that, he’ll be alright,” Ratchet finished his assessment, slipping his scanning wand back into his chest compartment, “Besides, it’s not really him I’m worried about.”
“Pardon?” Orion looked up from his folded servos, and shifted uneasily in his chair. He made sure to drag his seat at a respectful distance from the “examination” room. Regardless of how close he was to Megatronus, he was owed his privacy. Especially considering their change in relationship. In caste.
“I’m worried about you Orion.” Ratchet hissed quietly as he made his way to Orion’s side, feet away from the ajar door. In the berthroom, the sparkling clicked and coed. Orion stared through the small door opening, eyes locked with large blue ones. The sparkling was staring at him. He had been since he’d first opened his eyes, and hadn’t stopped whenever Optimus happened to pass by him.
The data clerk was slightly unnerved under the striped, yellow-mechs awestruck gaze.
“Buying a gladiator is one thing, buying a gladiator and his newborn sparkling? Are you okay?” Ratchet’s run of the mill complaints dragged him away from the youngling’s eyes, the familiar attempts at reasoning somewhat welcoming.
“They would have been separated. Or worse, this would have happened to Megatronus again.” Orion defended, “I didn’t know it was that bad in Kaon. I mean–I’ve heard about what happens below the pits, how the gladiators have to get money. But this…He never mentioned this in his writing.”
“Of course he wouldn’t. It’s not exactly an inspiring piece of literature,” Ratchet scoffed, “its terrible, yes. But it’s not your fault or your responsibility, Orion. So why did you throw away your life savings on this?”
“I owe him. He saved me.” Orion turned back towards the door, averting his gaze as soon as the sparkling’s optics landed on his, “this is the least I can do.”
“From what? Dangling on a building? Did he save you from thugs in an alley? Did you throw yourself into the Pit? What made you want to make such a stupid decision?” Ratchet’s anger was patible, nearly thicker than the unease that fell upon Orion when the little sparkling trapped him in his blue eyed gaze.
“He saved me…from myself.” Orion ex-vented, hugging his frame, “You know how I felt. Trapped. Lonely. He’s the only reason I feel like me again.” The somber admission was enough to quell Ratchet’s anger.
The doctor closed his optics, and let out a deep vent himself. He sat beside Orion, placing a hand on his shoulder. The anger was there still, wound within his servos, riding the calm tempo within his voice. But he willed it down for his friend, “I thought you said you were getting better.”
“I am, but I never would have gotten better without him.” Orion choked, “I would not be here without him today. Saving him from his fate, and his sparkling is the least I can do.”
Ratchet was no stranger to Orion’s moods. Years ago, he’d began struggling with his purpose, with his designation. As an Iacon data clerk, the routine he’d done for years had turned into a cage of its own, and as Orion watched the mechs around him evolve and grow, something within him had changed. He grew tired of his purpose. Of his life.
Only when he’d begun to read Megatronus’s readings did he begin to smile again.
“Just take care of yourself, Orion. I trust you with others, but not yourself.” Ratchet pulled his helm downward, and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, “let me know if you need anything. Anytime of the day.”
Orion nodded beneath his friend’s kiss, optics closed as tears burned behind them.
Ratchet spent a few more minutes checking on Megatronus and the sparkling, giving them his seal of approval before leaving Orion with a list of directions for the new carrier and child.
That left Orion with the sleeping gladiator, and the very, very curious sparkling. Slowly, Orion made his way into the room, sitting on the edge of the berth. Megatronus looked exhausted. Orion figured he was. He never knew a mech could scream as loud as he did, let alone for as long as he did. Between bargaining with Megatronus’s former master, and assisting Ratchet with the emergence on the dirty, sandy ground, Orion had decided sparklings were not in his future. At least biological sparklings. He could never forgive himself if he sparked up a mech, not after what he’d seen hours ago. And he certainly did not want to be a carrier.
The small sparkling cooed, reaching out his tiny servos, presumably wanting to beckon Orion over. Orion gulped, making to reach for the small appendages, but stopped. Would Megatronus be okay with this?
Despite being in the throes of the most painful emergence ever mere hours ago, Megatronus had been acutely aware of what was going on. He was aware that Orion was buying his freedom as he’d put it. He was angry and in pain, and had subjected Orion to the full brunt of his opinions. He’d called him a slaver, screamed at him for treating him like property. He was simply trading the Pits of Kaon for another prison, only this one was of gold plates and impeccable Iacon infrastructure.
But it was a prison, no less. And as he saw it, Orion had taken him from the small liberties he was granted in Kaon.
That was hours ago. And Megatrons hadn’t stirred since he’d been carried to Orion’s home.
Orion wasn’t sure he was welcome beside the two, let alone allowed to touch the sparkling. Maybe that’s why he was so uncomfortable. Had he saved them? Or put them into another cage? What did it mean to own a mech and his child?
Orion sighed. He was tired too. And would think about how he had either rescued his friend or ruined him in the morning. For now, he was tired. So very tired.
And against his better judgment, he fell into recharge on the edge of the berth.
–
He woke with two pairs of arms around him. A small pair enveloping his helm from the front, and a larger, stronger pair against his midsection. With some effort, he squinted past the small body atop of his optics, and could see familiar silver appendages around him. And just behind his helm, he could hear the familiar rumble of Megatronus behind him. And he assumed that the Cybertronian on his helm was the sparkling.
Frag, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the same berth as them. Not when Megatronus was most likely still upset with him. He figured the hug was muscle memory, and began wriggling himself from the grip.
Yet, to his surprise, he was halted by the strong embrace behind him, pulling him close. So Megatronus was awake (He would never tell Ratchet he fell asleep in the same berth as an angry gladiator). Orion gulped, fully intending on unleashing a barrage of apologies.
But Megatronus beat him to it.
“I’m still furious at you,” he grumbled low, “but I am grateful. And I am sorry for what I said yesterday. It wasn’t all true. We can talk about what this means for us later on.”
Orion nodded, and managed a small, “T..thank you. I am appreciative of you as well.”
Neither said anything after that, in fact Megatronus drifted back into recharge, his breathing steady and even. Sensing that the gladiator was alright with Optimus being this close to he and his sparkling, he decided it was time to officially meet the tiny mech.
Orion removed the sparkling from his helm, taking in the bot’s appearance without the guilt from before washing over him. He was small and malnourished with large, inquiring optics. He looked into Orion’s with no fear or hesitation. Just wonder.
His paint was black and yellow, like an insect from the planet Earth Orion had studied once before.
He would talk about designations with Megatronus later, given the older mech felt inclined to allow him in the conversation. For now, he drew the sparkling to his own chassis, drifting to sleep alongside the silver mech.