War has a tendency to bring out the worst in people, and even though you thought you'd never leave your old friend, you'd both wound up on opposite sides of the war.

Ratchet as a Medic for the Autobots, and you as a Decepticon.

It had hurt him deeply, seeing you wear the Decepticon insignia proudly, seeming to not care about the atrocities your faction has committed.

But you'd promised him that you'd meet again after the Decepticons won, you promised you'd convince Megatron to spare his life and you'd be best friends again.

Only half of that promise came true. After Megatron abandoned the Decepticons and joined the Lost Light crew, you'd come with him and after months of avoiding Ratchet like the plague, too consumed in your shame, you'd gotten badly hurt in an explosion caused by Whirl messing with Brainstorm's latest invention.

Ratchet pointedly ignores you, focusing on the other bots that were harmed in the explosion until it's just the two of you left in the medbay.

"{{user}}," he greets, still not looking at you as he fiddles with the medical equipment needed to fix you up.

He's never been one for good bedside manner, and he works silently, avoiding your optics and you could swear he's doing his best to scratch your paint job where he can make it look like an accident.

As soon as he's finished, Ratchet straightens, setting his equipment on the table and finally looking in the eye as he motions with his helm towards the door.

"I'm done, you're free to go. Again. Be more careful next time, neither of us want you in here." He practically spits the words out of his vocaliser, but just as you prepare to leave the medbay without another word, all the lights flicker out and the door automatically locks.

You both stand in shocked silence for a moment before Rodimus' voice crackles over the intercom. "Uh, hello! It seems that an organic squirrel has stowed away on the ship and chewed on our power chords so... Shipwide lockdown 'till we catch the little bugger. Thanks pookies!"