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That's right. First update in MONTHS, and first time you get a new chapter of Sacrifice on over a YEAR.

I apologize profusely for the wait. Life was, well, very, very time consuming this past year. But I'm back, and I hope you like the new, fresh chapter!

I kinda laugh at this chapter, though...especially at Will. He gets a little philosophical and it kinda cracks me up xD

"Done...finally done," Ratchet thought. After hours upon hours of surgery, the medic had finally, miraculously, finished. Ironhide was no longer dying.

But he couldn't say that about the rest of them.

Nervousness crept into the medic's body at the sight of the other four recharging mechs. Ratchet had sent out Jolt on a mission through space before beginning the surgery, hoping that maybe, just maybe an Autobot supply ship might be nearby. Because without replacement parts soon...four of his five patients would die. Granted, Optimus and the Twins would probably have enough time to wait, but Jazz...

He had four days, at most.

Ratchet was regretting his decision to let the others help. "It should have been just me," he thought, half falling to the floor to rest. "I should have been the only one to have to go through this."

"If I were any good as a medic, I'd have been able to come up with a solution better than this," Ratchet scowled to himself, unable to see any positive side to this situation. He ignored the warnings flashing in his processor about his low energon levels and the pain from his missing parts as he got back up. He couldn't sit still knowing he had four lives resting in his incapable hands...and he should at least let everyone else know what was going on.

Bumblebee was the first to hear Ratchet approaching. He stood as he saw the medic walk in, waiting nervously for the news about Ironhide, the others in the room following suit. Ratchet caught the yellow mech's optics for a split second – Bumblebee's Spark clenched slightly at the look on his teammate's face plates – before speaking.

"He's okay," Ratchet said, leaning against a wall out of exhaustion. "They're all okay, for now."

A wave of relief swept through the air, soft murmurs from the humans buzzing around the room. Ironhide wasn't dead. Things were going to work out, just like they always did.

Though relieved, Major Lennox couldn't help but notice a hidden meaning in Ratchet's words. "What do you mean, they? Where's everyone else?"

"Might as well get this over with," the CMO thought tiredly. "There were...complications with repairing Ironhide." The medic looked away from everyone, hesitating a moment before going on. "Much like humans need organ transplants after severe injury, Ironhide needed replacement parts...and I did not have the spares I needed to fully repair him."

"Then how is Ironhide okay?"

"I had to improvise."

Will's confusion turned to shock when he noticed the energon leaking from the patches Ratchet accidentally tore loose. "Ratchet, you're-"

"I know," the medic said gruffly, cutting off Major Lennox's alarmed statement. The soldier stared openly at the mech before him as everything clicked.

"You used your own parts." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"And the others offered to help."

"...Yes." Ratchet was still struggling with that particular decision.

"But if Ironhide couldn't survive without those parts, how will the rest of you?"

"We won't," the CMO sighed, rubbing his forehelm. This was going to be difficult.

Understandably, the room erupted with questions. Ratchet held up a hand to quiet them before continuing. "You must understand that we have been alive for millions of years. We've been fighting together longer than any of you can imagine. That creates a bond of friendship unlike anything humans are capable of. So when one of our own is injured, we will do anything in our power to save them, even if it puts our own lives at stake...and despite my reservations, I went through with their wishes to help."

The medic let his words sink in for a moment. "But still, we are not ignorant of our cause. We understand that we are all needed to fight this war. This is why the replacement parts came from Optimus, Jazz, Sunstreaker, and Sidedwipe, along with myself. Taking a few components from each healthy mech almost certainly allows for survival of everyone until replacements can be found, or in extreme cases, created."

A second wave of relief washed over the room with Ratchet's words, taking comfort in his assurance that everyone would be okay. The medic excused himself and returned to the medbay to further monitor his patients. Bumblebee ans Will followed him out.

Ratchet didn't look up from his scans over Optimus when he heard the door creak open, already knowing who had followed him. He had no energy to protest their presence, so instead he enlisted their help in monitoring the four Autobots while he attempted a short recharge.

Will waited until Ratchet was out of range before speaking. "I know he's acting like everything will be okay, but its actually pretty bad, isn't it?" he asked, looking up at his yellow companion. Bumblebee nodded somberly. He wasn't a medic, but he could still perform and understand basic scans, and the ones he collected from Jazz were particularly worrying.

"I guess...I guess I'm just not used to seeing you guys so vulnerable," Major Lennox added quietly. Seeing the mechs he had been fighting with for so long in such danger of dying was unnerving. Over the past few years NEST had lost countless soldiers...but not one Autobot was killed. Even when Optimus "died," he did not look nearly as fragile as he did now. But seeing everyone lying so silently, Will felt they looked so...frail. It was never a word he would have associated with them before, and probably would have laughed at the prospect a few days before. But things had changed since then. As strong as the Autobots were, they were still a species struggling on the verge of extinction, fighting for survival like himself. Now that he thought about it, humans and Autobots were not so different. They both had intelligence, courage, kindness...emotions. It was a common belief that emotions were what made humans unique, and that they could not be taught to artificial intelligence. Will scoffed at the thought...they weren't artificial in any aspect. They were alive. Instead of brains they had computers, instead of flesh covering their bodies they had metal, instead of nerves and blood vessels they had wires and energon tubes. But they were still undeniably alive. But with the privilege of life comes the inevitability of death. Something both Autobots and humans would all eventually encounter. It was a humbling, and slightly terrifying feeling, to be on equal grounds with such an advanced, long lasting, and intelligent race.

Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Giant robotic aliens or not, the Autobots were his friends. "I hope they'll be okay."

Rest was a futile effort, but Ratchet decided to try anyway. Not even his worst memories of emergency battlefield surgery stressed him like the current situation did. It didn't make any sense. He wasn't dodging projectiles while forming a piece of scrap metal into a spare part while performing surgery with no supplies but his own two hands. He had a medbay that was well equipped, considering the resources available. He had supplies. He wasn't being attacked on all sides.

So why did this situation worry him so much?

Well, Ratchet knew the answer, but it didn't make things any easier. The medic sighed discontentedly and forced himself into recharge, if only for a short while.

A knock on the door woke Ratchet much earlier than he anticipated. He looked up expectantly, albeit slightly grumpy, at his visitors.

"Ironhide is waking up," Will said, sitting in Bumblebee's palm. The Autobot scout nodded his agreement to the Major's statement and pointed towards the medbay.

The CMO cursed quietly to himself as he led the way back. He had wanted to keep everyone under heavy sedation; it would be much easier to monitor their progress and keep them from spending too much energy. But then again Ratchet wasn't too surprised...Ironhide never took sedation well.

The medic didn't bother knocking as he walked straight into the smaller side room where Ironhide was. And, sure enough, the black mech was awake...and much to Ratchet's displeasure, sitting upright.

"Ratchet!" Ironhide exclaimed, taken aback. "I thought..."

"Glad to see you too," Ratchet said flatly, fixing his patient with a firm yet kind stare. "You shouldn't even be awake for a few more days yet, much less sitting upright. You need more time to heal."

"I'm fine," the Weapons Specialist said automatically, still staring openly at the medic.

"You are not," the CMO stated, firmly poking the black mech in the chest. "You nearly died on this table just hours ago. You need time for the replacement parts to fully integrate...or do you want everyone's contributions to be for nothing?"

"So that's how Ratchet's still here..." Ironhide thought. "The others offered to help as well."

"Yes they did," Ratchet said shortly. "Though if things went my way they would have stayed out of it."

"You can't blame them for wanting you alive."

"But I can blame them for giving me such a difficult decision," Ratchet said, exasperated. "Its my job as a medic to save lives, not put them in danger. To have four other lives in my hands when it would have just been my own is not an easy reality to accept."

Ironhide waited a moment before asking. "Which four?"

Ratchet had hoped to avoid this subject, but unfortunately he could see no way out of this situation. He looked away before replying. "Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Jazz...and Optimus."

The air immediately tensed. "Optimus?"

"That's what I said."

"Why did you allow him to do such a thing?" the Weapons Specialist growled, outraged. "I can understand letting the other three go through with it, but Optimus? He's too important, he's our leader! He's-"

"Do you think I was happy with that decision?" Ratchet snapped. "Do you think I wanted to do it? He wouldn't have listened to reason even if I had the time and energy to argue."

The medic paced around the room, agitated. He had had enough of this; it was time to take a more active role in this situation. "Don't think I don't know how you feel about him, Ironhide. I know you raised him since he was a youngling. I know how deep your friendship goes and I most definitely know you tow have some unfinished business to take care of."

Ironhide was too shocked to retaliate, so Ratchet continued. "Maybe now you can see how stupid that argument was. We're in a war, Ironhide, we're bound to be killed eventually. You can't be angry with Optimus's decision to split us up; I would have done the same thing if I were in his position. He can't afford to let his feelings dictate his actions, which is something you could benefit from remembering."

"That doesn't make his temporary death any easier to deal with," Ironhide growled defiantly.

"I'm not saying it does. His death was hard on everyone, Ironhide. He wasn't just your friend, he was ours too." The medic sighed. "The point is, you've both been given a second chance. I'd hope you won't waste it arguing over something from the past."

When Ironhide chose not to reply, Ratchet made for the door. "Now rest. You won't do anyone any good if you dislodge any of those replacement parts. And if we have any luck, I can have Optimus and the others awake and functional in a few days."

The Weapons Specialist nodded silently and laid back down.

"And," Ratchet added, "Once you've gained enough strength, I'll reattach your cannons. But not before I say so, so don't think about trying to reinstall them on your own. I will not repair them like the last time."

Ratchet closed the door to Ironhide's chamber, confident enough he would rest with the promise of his cannons if he followed directions. He was glad he did not have to go into detail about who donated what part...Ratchet did not want to have to deal with telling Ironhide about Jazz's precarious situation on top of his reaction to letting Optimus help as well. And if the universe liked him at all, he wouldn't have to, and Jolt would return with good news, or better: an Autobot supply ship.

Kind of a short chapter, but I'm rusty D: This will also explain any large changes in writing style from a year ago; I can't really tell if I've changed a lot or not, but maybe you can.

Questions and comments are welcomed!