Ratchet was in his happy place.

With a stack of paperwork to fill out, a steaming mug of coffee, and a radio playing a mix of classical music and smooth jazz, it was almost guaranteed that he'd be left alone for a few hours. Evenings were usually quiet, which provided him with plenty of downtime. Downtime was crucial to helping him decompress and actually relax for once without having to worry about several different things at the same time.

Unfortunately, true moments of downtime were few and far between. There was always someone who needed his attention—always something that needed to be fixed. Sometimes he wished he hadn't been promoted to chief medical officer.

He was barely three sips into his coffee when the door to his office suddenly flung open.

Red Alert stood in the doorway looking disheveled and gasping for air. Ratchet was too blind with rage to see the red stains on the front of his white button up collared shirt, blood streaming from his nose.

"I swear to god, I can't get a moment of goddamn peace in this place!" Ratchet snapped. He slammed his pen down on his desk and turned to glare at Red Alert. "What could possibly be so pressing that you— ...What happened?"

"There was a... brawl.. in the brig.." Red Alert answered between breaths, his chest still heaving. "Four officers down, instigator in custody... They're on their way now for treatment. It got ugly, doc. Real ugly. No one knows what triggered it."

Ratchet took off his glasses and stood up, trying to absorb that information. "Well who started it?"

Red Alert cracked a nervous grin, knowing what came next would surely piss Ratchet off even further. "Take a guess."

"Deadlock." Ratchet grit through his teeth. He was going to chew him out when he got up there for pulling such an idiotic stunt. "Grab First Aid from his office and get some supplies. I'll need your help if this brawl was as bad as you said."

Two broken noses, thirty stitches, and one fractured wrist later, everyone who'd been involved in the fight had been treated—everyone except Deadlock. Ratchet had purposely saved him for last so that he could take his sweet time dealing with him.

In the beginning, he said nothing, still too pissed off to find the words he wanted to say. Deadlock said nothing either, simply watching him with a blank gaze as he went about treating his wounds while anger silently festered within him. It wasn't until Ratchet had begun stitching up a cut on his face that he decided to speak.

"Even while angry, you still have the steadiest hands known to man." Deadlock mused with a slight chuckle.

"Don't start with that." Ratchet muttered. He finished the last stitch and pulled away. "It hasn't even been a day and you've already almost gotten yourself and others killed. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Our earlier conversation was too short. I had to reach you somehow, and the guards obviously refused to escort me so... I took matters into my own hands." Deadlock explained. He had this shit-eating smirk on his face that made Ratchet's blood boil.

"How surprising. I see you've fallen back into your old ways."

"I've always been this way, doc. You know that."

"No you haven't. The Deadlock I remember wanted to become a better person for the man he loved, not a reckless killer."

Deadlock's smile faded and his expression darkened somewhat. "War changes people, especially those who were betrayed."

"I did not betray you!" Ratchet seethed.

A knock on the door interrupted Ratchet before he could say more. Releasing a strained breath through his teeth, Ratchet unclenched his fists and turned to open the door. He already had a feeling about who it could be.

"Prime." He greeted Optimus with an exasperated sigh. When Optimus's eyebrows furrowed in concern, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Sorry. It's been a long day."

"I can tell." Optimus said with a small smile. He gestured for Ratchet to step into the hall so they could talk in private. "How is everyone doing?"

Ratchet crossed his arms. "Fine. I expect them all to make a full recovery."

"Under your care, they will." Optimus shifted his gaze to look through the window of the door. "And Deadlock?"

"Prowl's boys roughed him up pretty good, but he'll live."

Optimus nodded. "Good. Once he recovers, I'll have him transferred back to the brig."

Ratchet shifted his weight and glanced at the floor before returning his gaze to Optimus. "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually."

"Go ahead."

"I don't think putting him back in the brig is a good idea."

Optimus tilted his head, seemingly intrigued. "Why?" He asked.

"What happened tonight will happen again if we put him back, I'm sure of it. Deadlock does not do well when he's surrounded by aggression and violence. He acts out because he feels threatened."

"How do you know this?"

Ratchet sighed. "I treated him a while back—before the war started. He was living on the streets and had nowhere else to go, so I offered him a place to stay in my clinic."

"You were friends." Optimus said.

"You could say that." Ratchet replied with a shrug. "When the war started and I chose to side with you, he felt that I had betrayed him. I haven't seen him since then and... it appears we're still not on good terms."

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Optimus asked, his gaze growing soft with worry for his friend.

"To tell the truth, Prowl told me not to after snooping around in my files. He said it would make me look bad." Ratchet rolled his eyes as he recalled that conversation. "I trust you with my life, Optimus, and I know I can confide in you. I just... thought it was irrelevant information."

Optimus laid his hand on Ratchet's shoulder. "I'm glad to have your trust, old friend. I will talk to Prowl about the matter later." He said. "What do you feel would be the correct course of action if we do not return Deadlock to the brig?"

Ratchet rocked back on his heels. He hadn't spent much time thinking about this, so it was more of a spur of the moment decision, but he knew it would ultimately benefit Deadlock in the long run—even if it meant being around him far more often than he'd usually be. He couldn't deny that his feelings for him still remained, though they were heavily stifled and ignored for his own well-being.

It could either fail spectacularly or lead to the rekindling of their friendship—perhaps even their relationship. However, that in itself brought consequences.

He was thinking too far ahead. He needed to focus on the present.

"Given my previous experience in dealing with him, I believe having him stay here in the medbay with me would be the best option." Ratchet said. He couldn't help but smile a little when he saw Optimus's expression. "I can take care of myself, Prime."

"I have no doubts about that." Optimus replied, returning the smile. "If you have any trouble, just call."

"You know I will."

Ratchet watched Optimus walk away and waited until he disappeared around the corner before stepping back into the room.

"Optimus Prime himself wanted to talk to you, hm? Must've been important." Deadlock commented as Ratchet began cleaning up the supplies.

"New arrangements have been made." Ratchet said, keeping his tone flat. "You're going to stay here with me."

A hint of surprise crossed Deadlock's face and he laughed a little. "Psh, right. You'll keep me here until I recover, then send me back."

"You're not going back."

"What do you mean?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Ratchet quipped, a bit of his temper slipping through before he calmed himself. "You're not being sent back to the brig. I'm keeping you here so I can keep an eye on you."

"Oh, so that's it. I start one fight and all of a sudden you want to play prison guard." Deadlock scoffed.

"This isn't a prison, it's a clinic." Ratchet muttered. He turned to face Deadlock and smirked a bit. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Deadlock groaned and rolled his eyes. "No."

"That's too bad. Looks like we don't always get what we want, do we?"

"Stop treating me like a goddamn child, Ratchet."

"Stop acting like one, then."

Deadlock opened his mouth to spew some sort of insult, but wisely held his tongue and scowled instead. Yes, he wanted to be around Ratchet for the purpose of annoying him, but that didn't mean he wanted to constantly be around him—let alone supervised by him. With Ratchet around, he knew he couldn't get away with the things he could usually get away with in the brig.

Ratchet wasn't amused in the slightest. "Quit pouting and follow me. I'll show you where you'll be staying." He huffed, already heading for the door.

This would be fun.