Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…

Warnings: Unbated. Animalistic mating rituals/life styles. Birthing.

Pairing: Implied Ironhide/Ratchet and Wheeljack/Ratchet, and potential future Twins/Ratchet.

AN: Hello! It's been a while since I've made anything that was not OC related, but I was simply having one of those months. However, I have been finding my slash muse being tickled over the last while and just stated a whole slew of different story bits that I just needed to get down in writing. Please enjoy!

To a certain someone who knows who she is: I will get to work on the Breakdown story soon. I'm just clearing out the clutter in my folder before it starts to overwhelm me. Much loves.

(Will edit this at a later date.)

Prompt- Mates

Mating season had never been Ratchet's favorite, but the nesting and rearing that came after was worth the effort it took not to snap at anybot that tried to mount him when the time came around. For the last three seasons though, he'd been unable to muster the required restraint to allow any ready sires close, having found them unbearably ostentatious, arrogant, or just plain inexperienced.

His last had been a huge sire by the designation Ironhide. That season, Ratchet had actually enjoyed the entire process, not just the brood carrying and nurturing, but the act of mating itself. They'd produced the most beautiful little sparkling too, all reds and blues and tall- so tall. The little one had surpassed both his sire and carrier in size by the time he'd left the den with his sire. It'd been so worth it though.

Ironhide had been a nomadic bot, and had only stayed bound to the area for the white-plated carrier's company and to help raise their sparkling to maturity. Ratchet held no grudges against him for leaving though, for he'd been warned beforehand that the time would come when the red-plated sire would once more leave to dwell the open deserts of the east. So, it'd been with a surprisingly tender nudge of affection and a kiss to his sparkling, Optimus, that Ratchet watched as the red-plated bot had disappeared from his life, taking their grown offspring with him.

Since then, Ratchet had yet to find another he'd allow to brood with him. Not for lack of looking though, and definitely not for lack of wanting. The selection of sires just wasn't what it used to be, for instead of sturdy, weathered sires with a good helm on their shoulders, the vorns of unusual peace and plenty had turned the carriers' optics away from survival and more towards aesthetics. So for a carrier who wanted nothing more than a strong, reliable, and loyal mate to pass the season with, such was not forthcoming.

The gene pool was diminishing more and more each season into bright, flashy youngsters with their crotch plates half loose and libidos a mile long. Needless to say, the young suitors dueling it out and flashing their colors for the carriers, and more often than not flashing those colors at him, did not please Ratchet and the carrier made sure they all knew it.

Still, that didn't mean the young potentials didn't come snooping around his den looking to impress and win themselves over an experienced mate who'd pass their coding on to future generations. Unfortunately, all they found most the time was a good hissing at, and for the more persistent ones, a good bite in the face when they tried pushing themselves into the carrier's den without his permission.

However, this season he'd managed to find a bot, and while he was certainly no Ironhide, he came pretty fragging close in terms of compatibility and Ratchet genuinely liked the bot. His designation was Wheeljack, and though he was a bit on the weirder side of abnormal, he was a good forager and a devoted mate that just rubbed Ratchet in all the right ways both in and out of the den.

And apparently very potent too, because Ratchet was soon heavy with a brood far exceeding the number of sparklings he'd had in any of his former seasons.

However, the good seasons were not to last and once more the rains ceased to fall, drying the lands which then bred fires as swift as the western praxian clan and as deadly as the rouges of the southern badlands. Then when the rains finally came, flash floods destroyed the den sites, flooding the underground network of tunnels, killing many of the newborn sparklings in its aftermath.

Luckily, Ratchet's stubborn nature had caused him to mate late in his search for an acceptable mate, and so he was still carrying during the flood. However, fate was not so kind as to leave him unaffected, for after the flood his mate had disappeared, said to have been seen swept far to the west by the raging waters, over the falls and beyond the reach of any bot this time of season not of aerial decent.

However, waiting was not an option, for even should he have survived the falls, the notorious praxian clan would be sure to make short work of an outsider wandering their territory without consent. And so, Ratchet grieved the loss of his mate and the potential fate of his brood should the trials of parenthood alone be too great in this time of uncertainty and strife.

Still, he moved on, traveling north with his chassis heavy with sparklings and his hands worn and aching from fire and famine, searching for a territory to call his own and provide for his soon to be born family. Away from the flooding river he marched, pass the charcoaled fields, even beyond the jagged mountains till he reached the northern forest, a place in which the most fearsome of bots were said to dwell in the shadow of the starless canopy.

And this is where the true story begins, deep within the dark jungle, where even the sun touches not the minerals of the planet.

With caution, Ratchet searched the underbrush for any signs of predation, hoping beyond all hope that this patch of jungle would be free of the notorious sparkling eaters said to roam the deepest parts of the northern lands. He sniffed the iron rich soils and the energon grasses for signs of territorial marking, seeking to find an area unclaimed by bots he could not defend against.

After four hours of searching he found none, and with a resolute rake of his claws at the base of an overhanging ledge he begun to construct his birthing den, set and ready to conquer any obstacle thrown at him.

Digging it out took the better part of the orn, but when he was satisfied with its design, it was truly a den worth defending. Overhanging vegetation covered the low, narrow opening, and the root system of the forest above it created a natural cradle within the dark confines. Easy to defend, easy to escape should the need arrive. However, Ratchet hoped it didn't come to that before the sparklings were old enough to run beside him, for if it did his sparklings would most certainly parish, for he would die before abandoning them but he could not carry more than one at a time through the narrow cracks of the roots.

The protection came with that price, but Ratchet was willing to accept it because, in all honestly, he was out of time.

The first pains of labor struck him even before he could completely lay down the soft bedding of leaf litter, all but sending him to the ground with its intensity and forcing him to take the ready birthing position with his back arched and his legs spread beneath him. The pain came in convulsions, pushing and twisting at his insides as he struggled to remain silent, wishing not to attract the attention of potential predators lurking about outside.

In the absence of a mate, he checked himself, using his fingers to check the stretch of his valve. He prayed there would be no complications while he was in such a state, not sure if he'd be able to properly conduct a delicate procedure on himself while in the throws of labor.

The first sparkling to come was a big one, almost as big as his sparkling with Ironhide had been, and just as painful. He'd pawed at the ground, biting down on anything within his reach and holding back cries of pain before they could erupt from his throat. He was sure he felt something rip as it finally, finally came to land softly on the thick padding beneath him.

He'd managed to clean the sparkling and got it to give its first weak cry just as the next came sliding smoothly through his stretched valve opening. Apparently, after the first and biggest of his brood, the rest just came effortlessly: a blessing to the taxed and tense carrier.

Unfortunately, the smell of his recent birthing did not go unnoticed by the passerby traveling just a little ways away from his den.

The massive red bot with gleaming black claws and horns crouched down as he found traces of another bot having been in his and his brother's territory while they had been away for the last season. Not that he hadn't been expecting this, it was an usual occurrence when the owners of a territory was away, but he was surprised by the strange sent the other emitted, one that spoke of riverbanks and open grasslands.

Now, that was unusual.

Still, he and his brother would take care of the intruder all the same, like they always did. This wasn't the first time they'd had to chase out- or as was more often the case with his brother, killed- a bot that'd taken a claim to their land. It wasn't something they took lightly.

Just as he begun to rise from his crouch, the smell of freshly spilt energon and something else distinctly primal whipped through the air and straight into his face, nearly making him stumble back with the intensity of it. It immediately sent the sensors in his nasal wild, making his frame tense with anticipation.

Well, when a free meal comes calling, who is he to refuse.

He darted through the low-lying brush, weaving and dodging through the trees with familiar ease, following the scent riding so potently on the wind. He only stopped when he came to a small ledge dipped low into the roots of an impressive tree towering high above the forest floor.

For a moment, he was unsure as to where the exact location of the smell was coming from, until he traveled a little further down the ledge and caught a strong whiff of the scene almost directly beside him. He immediately spotted the signs of recently shifted soils and headed towards it, laying low and stalking about the opening of the hidden den set firmly into the ledge side.

Had it not been dug so recently he'd have probably missed it completely, but as it was that wasn't the case. Still, he was impressed.

He grinned mischievously, ready to lunge and bully the meal right out of the other's den, crouched low and at the ready, frame poised perfectly for balance and maximum force.

One, step, two, step, three-

"Ah!" He barely managed to stumble away as a blur of white flashed before him and pain struck like fire across his face, momentarily blinding him. He all but howled as he shook his helm and tried to lessen the sting of the sudden blow, backing up to put distance between he and his assailant.

It was a low, incensed hiss that finally brought the large bot out of his pain-induced daze. His optics instantly settled on the white-plated bot crouched defensively at the den's opening, hissing and baring his dentals in a display of obvious threat.

In rage, the red bot growled back from deep in his throat, sharp dentals bared menacingly and frame rearing up in a show of dominance, killing intent radiating off him in waves. He snapped his jaw and moved closer, staring down his opponent with livid blue optics.

Still, the other did not cower and instead stepped forward as well, clearly not intending to back down, and it was then the red-plated bot finally took in the appearance of the other. Ice blue optics dim in pain, expression twisted between rage and agony, the telltale sign of energon smeared down his inner thighs, pooling at his unsteady peds, and the intensity in which he was defending the den.

He'd just recently birthed.

Now curious, and realizing that the other was not much of a threat in the state he was in at the moment, the red bot relaxed slightly and instead moved slowly towards the other, being sure to keep out of reach. He watched as the smaller bot tensed and snapped his dentals again, clearly unimpressed by the other.

The red bot looked over the white bot's shoulder to peer curiously into the den, only to be forced back as the other charged at him, stopping just short of actually getting him.

"Go away, slagging youngling! I have no time for this." The white bot hissed, but his voice was hoarse and strained, just edging the line between threat and gasp.

With a quick lick at the energon starting to run across his lips, the red bot spoke. "You're in our territory."

"It was unclaimed last I checked." The carrier snarled back. "And I did- thoroughly."

A shrug. "My brother and I were gone for awhile, but this is our territory and you just went and dropped your litter right in the center of it." The larger bot mocked darkly, grinning condescendingly as he stalked towards the other with long, purposeful strides, a mischievous glint in his optics. "Such a trespass would usually warrant the sparkling's deaths, wouldn't it."

The growl that escaped the carrier nearly startled the other with its sheer malice, but he managed to catch himself before it showed.

"Try it and I'll rip your throat out."

"Really." He took one challenging step forward, leveling himself to meet the other's gaze square in the optic. "I don't think you could reach that high up."

Dark, foreboding rage vibrated through the small mech's entire being, and the red mech took a step back, recognizing that he'd gone far enough and it was time to stop his teasing before he really did have a fight to the death on his hands.

He immediately threw his hands up and lightened his expression. "Who do you take me for? Buckethead? Do I seriously look like I'd kill a sparkling in cold energon?" He smiled his most charming smile, trying to appear harmless.

Ratchet took one look at the other's clawed hands, predatorily sharp dentals, and the energon smeared across those taunt lips from having been lapping his wound and gave the other a decidedly pointed look.

Realizing how he must look with his face covered in energon, the red bot rubbed the back of his helm. "I was just teasing. I know I look mean, but I'm actually a nice guy." Again with the grin, but the teeth and energon ruined the intended effect.

A deeply ingrained mistrust shone clearly in the carrier's optics, and the red bot deflated a bit, knowing there was no convincing this bot as he was now, especially so close to the time of delivery of the sparklings.

Threatening the carrier's sparklings, even just playfully, he decided, had not been his best idea.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll leave you alone for now." The red bot said pleasantly, backing up slightly before he spoke once more. "But I will be coming to check on you. Can't just let you roam around my brother's and my territory unchecked now can we?" He reminded with a distinct gleam in his optic Ratchet found he did not particularly trust.

"Just leave." The white plated carrier hissed, optics narrowing further in warning.

The red plated bot smirked. "See you later, little carrier." And with that the larger bot slipped gracefully into the underbrush, nothing more than a flicker of scarlet in the shadows of the looming canopy overhead.

After the menace was completely out of sight and a few minutes of standing defensively in front of the den incase of a surprise attack, the carrier finally lessened his stance and entered the den in solemn silence. Once inside, he curled himself around his weakly whimpering sparklings and nuzzled into their warmth, smelling the faint mixture of energon, lubricant and something else distinctively unique on their soft armor.

That night, he dared not sleep, dared not leave his sparklings unattended, and dared not let the first tears fall from misty optics les once they begin they would never again cease.

It was a very long night.

Breaking the news of an intruder staying right in the spark of their territory had not been easy for Sideswipe, and neither had avoiding nearly having his helm ripped from his shoulders when he said he'd allowed the intrusion to go unpunished. This had all been expected though, and so Sideswipe was neither surprised nor particularly troubled of his brother's violent outburst.

The mention of the intruder being a lone carrier with sparklings, however, seemed to trigger a different kind of reaction from his usually volatile brother, and even Sideswipe, who'd shared the same spark as Sunstreaker from birth, had not been expecting the intensity in which the yellow plated bot was reacted.

"We have sparklings to provide for." Sunstreaker had said simply once his brother had finished explaining the situation in full, as though it were the most mundane thing in the world to be announcing.

Sideswipe had gave his brother a suspicious look, optics hard and calculating as he watched his twin stare off in the directing of the carrier with an intense gaze that spoke volumes of his intentions. "They are not ours, Sunstreaker. If they were, we'd know."

Sunstreaker snorted, casting his brother a narrowed glance. "They are on our land, and seeing as you accepted them, they are now ours, as is the carrier who bore them. I shall go to inspect him and the sparklings come first light." Having come to a decision, the sleek, yellow bot made for the their nesting tree and Sideswipe gave an exasperated sigh as he followed his brother up into the sturdy branches.

It was a tall, thick tree baring the scars of many winters and the frequency of clawed hands digging into the hard bark with each trip up into the leaves above. If the tree could be described as anything other then large, it would be resilient, if its apparent abuse was anything to go by.

Once the brothers had settled into the foliage, Sideswipe spoke up. "Just because the carrier's in our territory, does not automatically make he and his sparklings our territory."

"A carrier who enters another's territory knows that to do so is to invite its owner's attentions. To have sparklings in the middle of it means he intends to stick around. So either the sparklings are to be presented to us to imprint on, or we get them out of our territory." Having said that and made his point, the yellow twin took to ignoring his brother completely, instead turning to rest for the night.

Sideswipe, knowing he could do nothing to sway his brother, merely shook his helm and lay beside his brother, relaxing into the warmth that radiated off him. Just before he too slipped into recharge though, a small smile crossed his lips, small and warm.

It'd been awhile since his brother had taken a genuine interest in a carrier despite his near overwhelming desire to sire and raise sparklings of his own. He just hoped the fiery little carrier managed to catch and keep his brother's interest after the initial meeting, because the way things were going, the twins were heading down the long and pitiful path of loneliness.

This was going to get interesting.

AN: Gasp! Ratchet has babies. I want to snuggle them so badly! This is just a story bit to get those muses going and hopefully bring some entertainment in these post-Christmas lazy days. Once more, if anyone wants to use some of these ideas for their own stories, please do so. Just send me a message of some sort telling me about the story so I can read it too. I mostly write these because they're things I wish I could read myself!

Please review…