The Father And The Daughter - Chapter 1, Fun While It Lasted

Today was the greatest day of Ratchet's life. It was the by far the most humbling experience of his short twenty-three years. He was terrified, yet also felt a strange sense of calm within him. He was unsure whether he was ready for this, yet knew he was, and that he would never be any more prepared than he was right now. He was struggling to make sense of what was happening as he felt his hand being crushed to paste, Angela's screams of agony ringing in his ears, all while the smell of disinfectant was suffocating him with its sharp, antiseptic scent.

And then, just like that, it all stopped, and was replaced by the sound of a crying baby. In a daydream-like state, he watched a nurse wrap up the tiny lombax in blankets, and then handed to his wife of less than two years, Angela Cross. She looked exhausted, her face gaunt with pain. Her curly hair was an unruly mess, with a few strands sticking to her forehead, which was slick with sweat. As she took the baby, which was now settling down, she looked at its delicate features. Its eyes were closed, its small ears were folded back, it had the tiniest nose, and a small, unruly tuft of fur on its head. Upon Angela's first glance, she instantly fell in love with the tiny creature. The last thirteen hours of sheer agony had been worth it.

She looked up at Ratchet, with a small smile, which lit her up her entire face. "Do you want to hold her?" she asked quietly, her voice hoarse from the screaming.

"Of course I do," he replied, returning the smile. He walked over to the window of the hospital room, grabbed a chair, and brought it across to Angela's bedside. He sat himself down and outstretched his arms to receive the baby from Angela. Being passed from one parent to another disturbed the baby lombax, who gurgled slightly, before settling down again. Ratchet peered into the bundle of blankets and inhaled sharply. "She really is cute," he whispered, unable to control the wave of sheer adoration that crept into his chest.

"She definitely takes after me then," Angela returned wearily as she watched the new father with their daughter, her spirit still strong. He was so gentle with the way he handled her. He automatically supported her head with his hand, while cradling the rest of her body in his free arm. She found it reassuring to see that he was a natural. She, on the other hand, found handling children a little trickier. She was grateful that no one had noticed that she had very nearly dropped the child moments ago, a single, shameful moment that she, under no circumstances, would divulge to anyone else. It was a secret she would take to her grave.

As Ratchet peered back to the blanket bundle, he saw the little baby slowly open her eyes, which were a sparkling, vibrant emerald-green: her father's.

The new parents gazed adoringly at each other. Struggling slightly, Angela sat up and leaned across to peck Ratchet on the lips, the pair lingering in the kiss longer than she had originally anticipated. As the broke away, they both shared a look that said, Things are great. They both knew that things from now on would be wonderful.

They hadn't slept properly in months, and it was far from wonderful. Lorna typically woke up every few hours, much to her parents' frustration.

"You get her," Angela mumbled sleepily, "I did it last time." And with that, she turned over. They'd agreed long before the baby was born that they would alternate getting up during the night, a system which prevented many, many arguments.

Ratchet felt his eyes burning from the lack of sleep, and his ears were ringing from the harsh bawl of his daughter, which was a sound he was all too familiar with now. With a groan, he hoisted himself up and got out of bed. He wandered over to her crib by the window of the bedroom, and peered in. The poor little lombax was clearly upset, her face screwed up as she screamed at the top of her tiny lungs. It amazed Ratchet how so much noise came from such a small creature.

"Come on little lady," he said soothingly as he scooped her up. "What's the problem?"

She continued screaming, thrashing her small arms around. He took Lorna and headed to the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" he whispered as he turned on the kitchen light, illuminating the room. He tugged open the fridge door and retrieved a small bottle of milk. He placed it in the bottle warmer and set a short timer. While he waited, he gently rocked Lorna. Unfortunately, her cries didn't die down. He looked around the apartment, which Clank very kindly gave to him and Angela shortly after they got engaged and realised that they would soon need to buy a house. Although this apartment was fine with a baby, it would be more difficult as she grew up, especially if he and Angela decided to have more children.

He would have to think about that one. Ratchet and Angela had always wanted kids, and had agreed on three, but they started their family much sooner than they expected. With Ratchet being 23 and Angela 25, they were a little younger than they had planned, and decided it would be best to wait a few more years before trying to have another. But Ratchet was happy being a younger parent, as was Angela. Angela had been working at MegaCorp for the last six years. As far as she was concerned, her job was safe, especially as she was a highly-valued employee. Ratchet, being self-employed and generally relaxed about everything, wasn't worried about work either.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ping of the bottle warmer. He retrieved the bottle, and quickly tested the milk to ensure it wasn't too hot for Lorna. Satisfied with its temperature, he then put the bottle in the baby lombax's mouth, which she drank from greedily. "Slow down, you'll make yourself sick," he whispered to the baby. The thought of cleaning up vomit at this time of night made him shudder in disgust. Lorna steadily drained the bottle, and settled down, her eyelids getting heavier and threatening to close. "Oh no you don't," Ratchet said as he put the bottle down and lifted her upright, "you are not falling asleep on me." He gently patted her back, and she gave off a surprisingly loud belch which reverberated around the kitchen.

"Nice one," he chuckled, walking back to the bedroom, turning off the kitchen light as he did so. He crept into the bedroom, making sure not to wake Angela. He darted across to Lorna's crib, and gently placed her inside, covering her up with her tiny blanket. He lingered at the crib, watching the little lombax drift off, feeling his face involuntarily stretch into a grin. When he satisfied she had fallen asleep, he got back into bed, sighing as he started up at the ceiling. Life was good.

"I heard you out there," Angela mumbled sleepily. "That is one noisy baby."

Ratchet laughed. "She did good."

"Don't encourage her."

Two years later...

"Daddy! Look!" a two-year-old Lorna chirped as she tottered over with a piece of paper, a drawing, no doubt.

"Let me see," Ratchet said warmly, scooping her up and placing her on his lap. Eagerly, she waved her masterpiece in front of her father's face, to which he grabbed it so he could take a closer look. Upon closer inspection, Lorna's 'drawing' was nothing more than some weird squiggly lines etched in crayon. She was hardly Picasso.

"What's that you've got there?" Angela asked from across the room, looking up from the workbag she was packing. Ratchet lifted the piece of paper up for Angela's viewing. Her eyes trained on the pathetic excuse of a drawing. "That's really good, Lorna!" she beamed, as she walked over to the armchair her husband and daughter were sat on and crouched so she was eye-level to the little lombax. Angela ruffled the toddler's hair, which was shoulder-length and starting to get curly, like her mother's. She looked up at Ratchet, who was grinning stupidly. "What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ratchet wiggled the paper, and mouthed, It's crap.

Angela shook her head and laughed. She mouthed back, I know, but still felt obliged to put it on the fridge. She took the squigglefest from Ratchet and walked to the kitchen. Using a fridge magnet, she attached the picture to the fridge. What is it even supposed to be? she wondered. A grind rail? She had no idea what Lorna was going to be when she grew up, but Angela definitely knew she wasn't going to be an artist. She turned back, leaning against a kitchen counter and folding her arms. Smiling as she watched, she always enjoyed observing father and daughter interact, especially now. Given that Lorna was sat on his lap, she was essentially his 'tickle prisoner', the tiny lombax squealing and wiggling while the older one laughed, dodging thrashing and flailing limbs.

"Alright then," Angela said as she slung the strap of her workbag over her shoulder. "I had better get going." She walked over to the armchair and bent over to receive a kiss from her beau. Moving onto her daughter, Angela crouched down to a level where she could easily view the toddler. "You be good for Daddy now, okay?" she said.

The infant lombax looked up at her mother, grinning a tiny-toothed smile. "Okay."

Angela gently pressed her forehead against Lorna's before pulling away and straightening up. As she walked towards the door, she heard Ratchet's voice pipe up:

"Lorna, say, 'Bye-bye Mommy'."

"Bye-bye Mommy!"

Angela turned around to see the pair of them waving at her. She gave a small wave back before vanishing through the door, which slid down and shut behind her.

"So," Ratchet said, his face being held by his daughter's tiny hands, "what do you want to do today?"

The little lombax froze, her emerald eyes widening with sheer excitement. "Park!" she shrieked.

The public play area in Megapolis was hardly a park. Given the city's distinct lack of vegetation, the space was a large, circular space of white panelling, matching the rest of the city's monochrome look, with a few climbing frames, slides, and swings. Ratchet, given his more vibrant and colourful upbringing in Veldin, didn't think much of the space. After all, you couldn't really call it a park in the traditional sense. It was too artificial. Yet Lorna seemed to adore it.

As soon as she spied the playground, she attempted to sprint towards it, only to be halted by the harness she was strapped into. The last thing Ratchet needed was for Lorna to run off, either into oncoming traffic, or to tumble off the edge of the sidewalks of the elevated city, the latter concern originating from Ratchet's own personal experience. While shooting, jumping, and flipping his way through the city searching for Clank, he had very nearly leapt off the ledges, only to land and wind himself on the railings, luckily. If a grown man could nearly fall into the misty depths below, he certainly would not put it past a toddler to do so, hence the harness use.

Thankfully, the rudimentary railings seen throughout the city were replaced with a six-foot-high chain-link fence in this play area, putting many parents at ease, Ratchet included. He unclipped the harness from Lorna's torso, and with a squeal of joy, she trotted over to the swings, Ratchet following behind with a light jog.

The lombax toddler's first activity of the day: the swings. Standing near one of the posts, she spun around and hopped on the spot, eagerly awaiting her father's approach. As he drew nearer, she lifted her arms up, awaiting to be picked up.

"You want to go on the swings?" Ratchet asked. He interpreted his daughter's ecstatic nod as a 'yes'. With a small grunt, and noticing she was getting heavier, he hoisted his daughter up and placed her in the swing. Unable to contain her excitement, Lorna began kicking her tiny legs, telling her father to push her. Chuckling to himself, he complied.

"Higher!" she squealed, clinging to the chains of the swing for dear life. Ratchet noticed she was terrified, yet she was also loving it. He laughed to himself. Yep, he thought, that's my kid alright. He continued pushing his daughter, while scanning his surroundings. Nearby, there were other parents, some robot, some organic, supervising their children while they played. The usual hover ship traffic was zooming around at various altitudes. As if he was witnessing his own private joke, he grinned to himself upon noticing a learner pilot stall the ship, holding up the traffic behind them. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But there was something else that had caught Ratchet's attention. He recognised it instantly: the slender head, the spider-like legs, the blue paintjob, the arm with chainsaw blades affixed to it. Even looking at them caused Ratchet to recall the burning sensation on his side, remembering the agony caused by the blades tearing into his flesh. Nanotech healed those wounds, but the memory remained. But he couldn't believe what he was seeing, even after all these years.

It was a MegaCorp Security Robot - the chainsaw model. Those were used exclusively by private corporations, yet here it was, wandering in public. Other parents stopped what they were doing to stare at the hostile-looking robot, which stared back. Unlike Ratchet, they had no idea how much damage it could cause with a single, lightning-fast swing of its chainsaw arm. Lorna swung back into Ratchet's hands, giving him the perfect opportunity to halt her and the swing.

"Daddy, why stop?" she asked quietly. She wanted to swing and did not understand why her fun had been cut short.

No one in the park dared move a muscle. And then the machine moved, its spindly legs clanking on the panel flooring, approaching a child and parent near the monkey bars. As it drew closer, Ratchet spied the torque of the blades gradually increase. He knew what was happening.

Quickly instructing Lorna to stay put in the swing, Ratchet began his sprint towards the pair by the monkey bars. With each footstep, time seemed to slow down immensely. The MSR clattered closer, lifting its arm in preparation to swing, the parent and child unsure of why this strange being was approaching them. It was agonising. Finally close enough to intervene, Ratchet launched himself at the parent and child, pushing them out of harm's way. Like a hot knife through butter, the MSR's blades cut straight through the metal support of the monkey bars. They collapsed with a cacophony of sound.

Without wasting a precious second, Ratchet sprung to his feet, producing his trusty Obsidian Blade from his Dreadzone days. With a loud grunt, he swung as hard as he could, watching the blade connect with the MSR's head, caving it in. The robot collapsed like a sack of flour, its head rolling off its neck, drawing to a halt at Ratchet's feet. He turned to the parent and child, apparently of the same species of MegaCorp CEO Abercrombie Fizzwidget, who were still on the ground, unable to process what they had just witnessed.

Extending a hand to help them up, Ratchet asked, "Are you okay?"

"We're fine," the mother replied, pulling her son closer to her. "Thank you, I had no idea what that thing was going to do."

"I've had run-ins with them before," Ratchet replied, dusting himself off as he talked. "They can be quite nasty."

The little boy, who was no older than ten, piped up. "What are those things?"

"MegaCorp Security Robots. Private security, they shouldn't be out here."

Ratchet's musings were cut short by the piercing shriek of Lorna. "Daddy! Help!"

His eyes snapped over to his daughter, who was helplessly dangling in the swing while another MSR dashed up towards her. Without hesitation, he sprinted back to the swing set, fear clutching his heart as the hostile drew closer. As he neared the MSR, he sprung into the air, and landed a hyperstrike on the robot, slicing into it from its left shoulder into the middle of its torso. Its orange optics died, and the hunk of metal remained inert, in a slumped standing position.

Not wasting a second, Ratchet lifted a now-crying Lorna from the swing, who clung to her father for dear life.

"It was a monster!" she bawled, burying her head into Ratchet's chest.

"Shh," he whispered soothingly, rocking Lorna slightly. "I won't let the monsters get you." Her bawling died down into quiet whimpering, which Ratchet fished out his communicator screen, which was buzzing in his pocket. As the screen increased its size, Angela's anxious face appeared on it.

"Ang! You won't believe what just happ-"

"Ratchet, MegaCorp has gone into lockdown."

Ratchet's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Someone gave the 'okay' for a new series of MegaCorp Security Robots to be released for private use, but they've gone rogue. They think someone within MegaCorp tampered with them, and now they're a threat to the public."

"I know..." Ratchet said, gesturing to the trashed remains of one of the models behind him. "I had to take care of a couple myself."

Angela's worried expression was replaced with an angrier one upon noticing and registering Lorna huddled against Ratchet's chest. "If anything happens to her..." she said menacingly, her maternal protectiveness shining through. Ratchet didn't say anything, which softened her expression instantly. "She's with you," Angela corrected herself. "There's no one I would trust with her more. Just... be careful."

"Of course," he replied quietly, holding his daughter closer to him. And with that, Angela cut the call.

What is going on? Ratchet thought.

Well, here it is, finally! It's been a month, and I've been tweaking Reflection and fleshing out its chapters, while also having some slight writer's block with this, but I finally got there. I hope it's as good as you were expecting, and I have high hopes for this story. Let me know what you think, and in the meantime, check out Reflection and its revisions (edited chapters are indicated right at the start), and keep your eyes peeled for the prequel story surrounding Ratchet and Sasha at some point (maybe, hopefully, I'm around the halfway mark).

Until next time!

~TWRSB