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spikezonebby · 5 months

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Okay, okay I wanna see what you come up with for this song. “Sew My Name” by Josh Pike (the live version at the Sydney Opera House is the best version in my opinion).

GN!Reader x TFA!Ratchet with a dash (or more than a dash) of cathartic angst.

Sew My Name - TFA!Ratchet/GN!Human!Reader

Word count: 1,667

You liked to leave your mark wherever you went.

For as long as Ratchet had known you, you loved to leave something of yourself behind. You thought it important that the universe knew you existed in some capacity. You carried a knife around in your back pocket so you could carve your name into tree bark. One evening, you had asked him to show you how to sew. You wanted to know, so you could sew things into the collars of your clothes.

Ratchet always thought clothes were kind of a strange human invention. What good was armor that didn’t protect anything? Winter clothes, that was a different story. Humans had less-than-stellar temperature regulation so it made sense that you needed that.

Didn’t stop you from shoving your hands into the warm mesh just under his chassis whenever you got chilly, though.

If Ratchet had had any idea how much he’d miss the little things you did, he would have savored it longer. Been a bit more hesitant to pluck you off of him, or tried to close the distance between you a little more.

Bumblebee was lucky, the little scrap. He was lucky because his favorite organic was actually a techno-organic and would live a long, long life alongside him. For Ratchet, it seemed like with every visit back to Earth from Cybertron, there was less of you to go around.

Then one day, there wasn’t any of you left.

You passed away on a seemingly innocuous Tuesday evening and he didn’t even hear about it until the next time he came to Earth to check up on Sari. She broke the news to him, and he wasn’t even sure if he felt sad or not. Perhaps he’d been mourning all this time in preparation for the news, knowing how short organic lives were. He knew what he did feel though.

He was angry. Angry, raging, pissed off beyond belief that you could put so much of yourself into the universe, only for it to not even blink or grimace in your absence. He wanted to drag Primus himself down by his audials and give him what for.

“Doc-bot, I didn’t even think you were that close with them.” Sari said, setting a hand– or were they servos now? He still wasn’t sure with her unique anatomy— on the back of his calf.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I was their primary doctor! Not only that but they were a part of the team, weren’t they?”

Sari didn’t really have an answer for him, she wasn’t really looking at him even when he turns to face her. After the battle with Megatron and his copies of Omega Supreme, things changed. It was largely for the better, with Team Prime being accepted as heroes. Prowl’s death, though noble, shocked all of them to their cores. It’s been decades since then and Sari had gone from a teen to an upstanding young femme, struggling with her father’s own slowly decaying mind. Ratchet hated to say it but he always figured Issac would go before you, not out live you.

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair.

“What happened? I thought humans could live to be over a hundred years old.”

“I don’t know.” Sari admits, “I wasn’t really close with them. It just… got hard to talk to them, ya know?”

Ratchet hadn’t thought about that before. Sari, with her unique nature, may very well be the only person capable of understanding both the human and the Cybertronian angle of time. It made sense that Sari would slowly become unable to relate to you, a fully organic human being, the older you got…

It made him wish he’d spent more time talking with you.

“They did want me to give you something though, Ratchet.” Sari speaks up after a tense moment.

Sari had always been a girl that packed light, but Ratchet had entirely overlooked the bag she’d been holding. It was just a plastic bag but the real mystery was the parcel held within. Something small and light, bound up with a red ribbon. Sari sets it in his open servo and immediately he’s drawn to the softness of it.

It’s fabric, whatever it is. You were known to be a purveyor of various hobbies, it isn’t strange to think you might have gotten into fashion before your passing. Last he’d heard, you had taken to raising these insects called ladybugs. And before that, you had had an infatuation with sailing and the early history of your planet’s nautical culture.

He should have seen the signs of you slowing down way, way before this.

He unwraps the gift, revealing the folded fabric. A long strip of soft and silky material carefully hand embroidered with delicate gold. It reminded him of a thin scarf. On the very end, he finds his name stitched into it by hand. There’s the taste of something bittersweet on his glossa then, knowing he taught you how to do this. You kept up with it all these years later.

“Oh! I know what that is!” Sari chirps, and in an instant, her jet pack pops free from her back and boosts her up onto the medic’s shoulders. On her way up she snags the fabric from his grip, and with practiced ease, balances herself just behind his helm. She wasn’t as small as she used to be but still small enough.

“What on Cybertron are you doing?”

“Gimme a sec here!”

And a second is all she needs, because she loops the fabric around his neck cables and starts folding and twisting. Then, turns it around on him so the delicate puff of fabric is on the front of his chassis, hanging down and standing out as a stark, bright shock of color against his white paint. Like an ascot or a necktie or some other name for the vast many types of cravats there were on Earth.

“Guess they didn’t think you looked spiffy enough, Doc.”

The established base had tons of reflective surfaces, so one of them, a monitor, made a good enough mirror for Ratchet to adjust his new tie a bit. It was pretty, like Sari said, spitty, on him. He appraises himself, turning this way and that.

“Huh, not something I woulda gotten myself.”

“Pfft. That’s probably why they got it for you.”

“I didn’t think I was gone from Earth for that long for them just to… vanish like that.”

Sari shifts so she’s resting her arms and chin atop Ratchet’s head, legs throne over either of his shoulders and hoping her weight and her presence are soothing to the old medic. She squishes her cheek into the top of his helm.

“I don’t think anyone actually has a schedule for when they plan to kick the bucket. It just… happens. They probably wanted to give it to you in person but just ran out of time.”

Ratchet could picture it. You, old and greyed and still insisting they ride around on his shoulder while he talks about all of the numbskulls back at headquarters. Then they poke his cheek and tell him to stop being so grumpy, and give him their gift.

“Hey, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t wanna but…” Sari’s big blue eyes find his face in the monitor’s reflection, scrutinizing his expression for any minute detail. “Did you like them?”

“Of course I liked them. Why else would I put up with them? I like you, don’t I?”

“Awww, you do?” She flicks the unbroken point of his chevron, “Cute but that’s not what I meant. I meant like-like.”

“Oh, you mean like you and Bumblebee?”

Sari sputters and gives him a quick bop on the helm, “Yeah, yeah sure! If you need an example.”

“Honestly, Sari?” Ratchet begins, rubbing the golden seam of the tie between his fingers, “I…I don’t know. Cybertronians live so much longer than any organic life. It stands to reason that we fall in love slower too.”

“But that isn’t a ‘no.’”

“You’re right, it’s not. It’s not a ‘yes’ either. I guess, maybe, I could have if there was just more time.”

Sari doesn’t respond to that, not verbally anyways. She drums her fingers atop his helm, then he feels her squeeze him a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry.”

“And I’m Ratchet.”

That gets a snicker out of Sari. She pats the top of his helm and then he can see her in the monitor as she jerks her thumb back behind her.

“Bee wants to go grab some highgrade if you wanna join us.”

“Who’s ‘us?’”

“Me, Bee, Bulk, Jazz, and hopefully you. Optimus is still busy– Because when is he not– but he promised to call us all tonight.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Does there have to be? All my old friends are finally together so, why wouldn’t I wanna hang out with them all? Don’t have to have a reason besides just saying you miss someone.”

Sari always was the glue of the team. Her and Bee, friends against all odds. Young bots that just loved one another and loved all of the people around them, even if they could be a little annoying.

“Yeah, I don’t gotta head back to Cybertron for a while yet. Might as well show off their gift, right? And hope Bulkhead doesn’t spill highgrade on me.”

“Aw yeah! That’s the spirit!” Sari pumps her fists, then bounces on his shoulders, “Giddy up, let’s goooo!”

That gets a laugh out of Ratchet. Yeah, it was probably better that he spent some time with friends anyways. You would have wanted to if everyone was in the city at the same time. Even if he didn’t like to have a drink himself, he’d drink to you. To your memory.

So that the universe knew that you really had your name stitched onto his very spark. That there was some piece of you that couldn’t be erased. He wouldn’t let it be erased.

#transformers #transformers animated #tfa ratchet #tfa sari sumdac #reader insert #Ratchet/Reader #thank you for requesting!!#robot-hoard requests #song fic #request fill #hm i think thats all of them #transformers/reader #transformers x reader #transformers animated/reader #tfa/reader #tfa ratchet/reader #maccadam #maccadams

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