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It'd been barely a turn since the war started, and the once elation that the mechfriends had shared over the knowledge that Orion's forge was now hosting a new spark Ratchet's sparkling had changed rapidly into feelings of horror and barely-there hope, now bordering on hopelessness.
The dwindling rations they had, had forced Orion to cut down on refuels, only consuming energon when he feared for the wellbeing of the newly forming spark in his forge, along with Ratchet's gentle persuasion. He'd give up his own rations for Orion, and he frequently did so, unbeknownst to his lover.
It felt as if the war would never end, the constant rat-tat-tat of gunfire against frames of bots both alive and dead and buildings, the sickening screech of ripping mesh and metal that came with every fallen mech from outside the walls of their makeshift shelter, too close for comfort. Primus help us, Ratchet found himself thinking, no- praying. Begging for their child to make it out of this war alive, for his Orion to make it out in one piece.
Each day, the bombs of war became closer and closer, and no one in their midst could get any sleep through the constant sounds in the night. It was taking a toll on Orion, who now had deeper eyebags from tossing and turning every time the sun went down. Ratchet worried and fussed over him, the situation reminding him of when they'd first met. The nightmares.
His frame was now reminiscent of that time too, mesh thinning out, plating slowly becoming less dense. He looked more gaunt than ever, despite the additional EM field emanating from his chassis where their sparkling grew.
It was late one night, Ratchet's limbs wrapped around his partner on their little spot on the tarp a makeshift berth with salvaged cushions on Orion's side (Ratchet had insisted he didn't need any) and caressing his lover's chestplate, that the topic of names came up.
Ratchet had suggested a few that, subconsciously, he realised, reminded him of his own family's names. Listing them out as he went, before hearing a small whisper from Orion, as the other mech stared up at the stars.
"Hydraframe."
The word was said quietly, but with such conviction that Ratchet couldn't bring himself to object at all, if he were going to. It was a beautiful name, and he made sure to say as such, rubbing a thumb over Orion's plating again, gentle and slow, as if trying to feel the sparkling's sparkbeat through the layers of mesh and plating. It was too early for that, they both knew.
"Why Hydraframe?" He asked softly, following Orion's gaze to the stars, optics tracing the constellations along with his lover.
"Just... feels right." Orion answered. He didn't want to mention how it popped into his processor like some premonition put it there, but all the same, there was a tugging in his spark that pulled him to choose that name. It felt right.
Ratchet had simply hummed in reply, wrapping himself further around Orion in response.
Another turn and two lunar cycles later, and Orion's plating was slowly losing it's colour. Reds and blues fading into muted versions of themselves, the gauntness in his frame spreading right down to his digits, and the gaps and divots in his plating showing more and more sensitive protoform by the day. His mesh was steadily depleting, but he took solace in the fact that it was all going to his sparkling, if the growth of the tiny EM field and weight on his spark was anything to go by.
As long as his child lived, he could deal with whatever happened until then.
Or so he thought.
Ratchet was getting worried. Orion was starting to look like a ghost and there was no hiding the existence of their carried sparkling from the others anymore but he'd completely stopped refuelling. Granted, energon was scarcer than ever, but all Orion did now was recharge, obsessively cradling his chassis whenever he was awake, and refusing rations whenever they were offered to him. Ratchet's sparkbeat was irregular with worry, and he'd even tried to get some of the others to try and feed Orion something, but to no avail.
Ratchet held his love at night-time, feeling the way his frame lightened with each night that passed by, and found himself wishing fervently that the sparkling would arrive, so his Orion would refuel again.
Their joy returned when Hydraframe was born, and once Orion's frame recovered (just barely), his smile had returned at the sight of their healthy sparkling, playing with her and holding her despite his dwindling energy. Despite his slowly collapsing tanks from lack of energon. Despite his frame that shook uncontrollably, he still smiled. Because she was here. His pride and joy, him and Ratchet's, together.
Nothing brought him more happiness than watching her, either laughing or crying, (though mostly the former), but alive. Against all odds.
A few days later, however, horror washed over Orion as he checked up on Hydraframe some hours after he'd laid her to recharge, and found her still. Cold. Rigid as she lay atop the sheets he'd gathered for her on the first night.
Opening her optic lids with his digit-tips gently, he fell back in fear at what he saw.
Nothing.
None of the glowing blue he was so accustomed to seeing, just an empty blackness, seemingly never ending. He let go of her and reeled back with a shout, calling for Ratchet.
His partner rushed over to a sobbing Orion, immediately wrapping his arms around him with a worried exclamation, looking between the sparkling and his lover with increasing confusion and concern.
"What's going on?!"
Orion stutters and trips over his words, garbling through tears and pointing rapidly at Hydraframe's sleeping body. Ratchet, still holding Orion close, moves to check on her, finding her chest rising and falling as normal, and her pulse at a resting pace.
His optics falling back on Orion's frantic behaviour and sobs, he goes to check on their sparkling again. The same result. Oh, Orion... it must be the hunger. He thinks.
"S-She was gone.." He rocks himself back and forth on the floor, sobs permeating the room as his near-translucent frame trembles with barely contained grief. Ratchet picks him up gently, guiding him to see the little sparkling's frame, chest rising and falling, and guides his hand to her wrist to feel her pulse.
Orion only sobs further in confusion, turning and burying his face in Ratchet's chest, clinging to him tightly. Ratchet wraps his arms around him, rubbing his backplates with a sad look, and holding his feeble frame as gently as possible as Orion cries himself to sleep.
It's getting worse by the cycle, Orion's state. Ratchet's own energon reserves are steadily depleting, but he's sick with worry, unable to consume any rations now. Instead feeding what he finds to Hydraframe, trying his best to refine it to better suit her systems, though that becomes harder every passing day.
He sees, on one occasion, what Orion was crying about that night, and it makes him nauseous with helpless concern.
He was playing with Hydraframe one afternoon, watching her giggle as he shook a rattle toy that'd been gifted by one of the older sparklings in the shelter, having outgrown the toy, when suddenly she'd slumped in her place, optics totally offlined.
Ratchet had jumped in panic, immediately gathering her in his arms and carrying her to what was left of their medberth to do a full frame scan.
What he found was devastating.
Frame integrity at 56%. Energon absorption abilities down to 30%.
She was... she was slowly, slowly offlining. Their sparkling, their pride and joy... their very sparks combined. She'd be gone soon.
Ratchet was devastated, but as a medic, and a partner, he had to break the news to Orion.
It did not go over well.
"There must be something we can do!" Orion protested from where he laid, too weak to cling to Ratchet now in the way he used to. It was eating at him, the startling lack of strength he had. He knew it was soon, he knew he didn't have much longer, but to know his sparkling was the same? Because of his actions? Orion wanted to cry.
If he had any coolant reserves left, he would. If his tear ducts weren't so dry from lack of refuelling, he'd sob and wail and cry his spark out, because what else was he to do? Wait, helplessly as his own love was left behind by the both of them? As the sparkling he had chosen a name for, offlined right there in his arms, as he now knew she would?
No. He had to do something. He couldn't just watch as he lost his entire world. He had to do something.
And something he did.
"Orion? Orion?" Ratchet called out, unable to find his partner in his usual spot, and cradling Hydraframe on a hip strut, he searched their makeshift shelter, only to find no trace of his lover, save for a note.
Be back in a while.
Worry flares up in him, and he almost drops his sparkling at the thought of his Orion, his love, out there in the battlefield on his own. He tries to comm Orion, only to be met with static. He must be out of range. Or worse. Slag.
His concern spikes when Orion doesn't return, and just as he's getting ready to go and look for him, in comes stumbling a barely recognisasble mech, the only markers that it's his beloved Orion are the dull red and blue of his plating and frame, face battered beyond recognition, frame filled with wounds, and Ratchet rushes towards him with a cry.
"Orion!"
It takes only days for him to deteriorate further, no high-grade around to disinfect his wounds, the base having completely run out of fuel as well. Hydraframe clings to her carrier, sensing deep in her little spark that something's wrong, though she doesn't fully know what.
Orion lays, half-dead, on the surgical table, as it's the only surface they have left, the medberth now laying in tatters from yet another strike. His venting comes shaky and in shuddering, wheezing intervals as his frame struggles to stay online.
But he'd brought Hydraframe processed energon for sparklings, having nearly died in the process, so it was worth it. She'll live, a little more. He smiles for her, tells her stories whenever his voice isn't too shaky. Tries to stay strong, though he knows his time is soon.
Ratchet waits up with him every night, holding his limp servo and stretching out his tangled EM field as far as it could go, as far as it could comfort. One of those nights, it finally happens. Ratchet knew it was coming, but that didn't stop it from hurting like half his spark was gone. Ripped away, as Orion Pax wheezed his last vent, spark flickering and then going out, slowly, agonisingly.
Ratchet let out a loud sob. He didn't cry, he never did, but this was an exception. The love of his life, gone. Because of the war, because he'd sparked right as all hell broke loose. Because of Ratchet.
It was all his fault, he thought, as he gazed down through sobs at the blurry form of his lover's corpse. He sat there until morning, mourning the half of his spark he'd never get back.
Hydraframe is alright for the weeks that follow. The energon rations seem to hold her well, and she grows slowly.
It's during the month that follows that things change again.
The rations dwindle, and eventually finish. She babbles in gibberish sentences, happy nonetheless, hugging her papa (papa, the one word she knows) whenever she can.
Her carrier hasn't been here for a while, and she misses him. He used to talk to her in that soothing voice of his. She misses that.
She wonders where he is, and hopes he comes back soon.
Ratchet holds Hydraframe in his arms as the sun sets, and tears run down his face as he watches her laugh in that garbling way of hers, and if it was the only thing he could hear, he'd be less aware.
Less aware of the way her spark crackles and fizzles in the way a dying one does as she lays in his arms, less aware of the slight flicker in her optics as they begin to go out. She continues to babble nonsense, before making a face of pain. She can feel it now, he's sure. It twists at his spark, stabbing at the deepest part of him that nothing else can reach.
He holds her like that in the light of the setting sun, only able to watch and try to soothe as she returns to the AllSpark, as her own spark fizzles out quietly, but not quiet enough to not reach his audials.
He sobs even quieter, mourning the loss of the last thing that ever made him whole.