The battle was won.
The war, too, though that would take awhile to sink in.
Fingers shaking from exhaustion, and body so weary it felt as if his struts were bending under the weight of his own frame, Ratchet rose from examination of the dead, grey,
corpse lying in the mud. One of many, this terrible day, but this one more politically important than any other.
Into his comm, he pronounced, :
Optimus didn't celebrate.
The others did, but Optimus was somber and serious. He hadn't cracked so much as a smile in several days.
Ratchet had the code to Optimus's quarters, and not just because he was the Autobot's Chief Medical Officer. He used it now.
The door slid open, revealing that Optimus was seated on his berth, back to the wall, and half a cube of Sideswipe's strongest in one hand.
Optimus had the cube halfway to his mouth, and he froze in surprise as the door opened. "... Ratchet. You generally knock first."
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