(Just please pretend that energon can turn into high-grade like how juice can be fermented into wine, purposefully or not. Thank you.)

Ratchet was working in the peaceful silence of the base, his digits typing on the control panels as he analyzed the condition of the groundbridge, making sure it was safe to use for the upcoming missions. After a while, he pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor, before deciding to take a short break to refuel his energon tank.

He walked to the part of the base where their energon stash was stored. It wasn’t a lot.. but enough to get by, Ratchet noted in his processor, reaching down to grab a cube, then bringing it up to his intake.

He raised an optic ridge after a few gulps, the energon tasting off yet familiar at the same. Then it clicked and his optics widened. It tasted like high-grade he used to have back on Cybertron, but not as good. He almost choked the liquid into his vents. Wiping his intake as he stared down at the almost finished cube.

“Primus below— how long was this cube sitting here for?…”

He said in a quiet grumble, sounding almost frustrated. He hadn’t had high-grade since he was a young mech, so he could only hope that he wasn’t a lightweight now. Getting drunk amidst the war would be a nightmare, especially with him being the team’s medic.