"Ow!" Jazz exclaimed for what like the hundreth time. Anger was beginning to well in Ratchet's spark but he said absolutely nothing as he reached for something to dull Jazz's pain somewhat. He needed the mech awake and aware to see if he could repair the optical sensors so Jazz could potentially regain sight.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to be as careful as I can. If you would only keep still, I wouldn't be causing you as much pain," Ratchet finally mumbled absently. He noticed something about the wounds that he hadn't before. It served to simply anger him and he was left gaping for a moment before a threatening growl left his vocalizer unbidden. He stood and the sound made Jazz tense in fear.

"Something wrong, doc?" he asked quietly. Ratchet paused to look at his young patient.

"I just need the help of another medic," he managed to say gently. Slowly Jazz relaxed and it allowed Ratchet to walk away without feeling too bad.

The nano-klick Ratchet walked out into the hallway, two younglings and a sparkling were staring up at him with expectant optics. He nearly took a step back at having his personal space so suddenly invaded.

"Is Jazz gonna be okay?" the oldest youngling asked. Ratchet just frowned down at him, questions already forming in his processor that he needed to have answered or risk going mad.

"Ratchet? Did you need something?" Elita interrupted, snapping the medic's attention to her.

"Yes. I need to speak with Wheeljack."

"But he has Optimus with him."

"You can handle a sparkling, can't you?" Elita instantly ran off into Wheeljack's wing to fetch the inventor while Ratchet turned back to the remaining younglings. "What are your designations?"

"My name is Prowl," the white and black doorwinger answered instantly. He nodded his helm in a show of respect before motioning to a similar painted sparkling with doorwings, "This is Bluestreak."

"An' I'm Smokescreen," the eldest doorwinger stated proudly. "But you didn't answer my question. Is Jazz gonna recover?"

"He should, yes. I just need to check something first," Ratchet replied. A rather worried Wheeljack walked up then. Without explaining a thing, Ratchet disappeared back into Jazz's room, dragging Wheeljack in after him. The door slid shut in the faces of the little younglings outside.

About a breem later, Jazz was sitting up, a blue visor gently being positioned over the optic-less sockets by skilled servos. Ratchet made a soft sound as the visor finally clicked into place, lighting up after a moment to give the impression of being used for sight. Jazz was currently blind, and for the time being Ratchet could do nothing about it. The youngling would have to get used to having a visor first before Ratchet started to get him adjusted to having sight again. Visors worked differently than regular optics and would give a different range of sight that would only serve to confuse Jazz at first. And so Ratchet had decided to at least hook up the visor in a way that would allow it to use some of Jazz's energy to keep it online so he would be used to that first before introducing sight into the situation. Ratchet leaned back to admire his handiwork, since visors were fiddly things, and Wheeljack gave a slight hum of approval.

"How do I look?" Jazz asked in a quiet teasing voice. He flinched slightly when one of the medics stroked his helm briefly, not expecting the sudden contact.

"What matters more," Ratchet began, "is the fact you'll recover your sight. The damage, while extreme, is repairable. For a while you'll have to come to the center so we can adjust it slowly to avoid overwhelming you. Do you understand?"

"I'll be blind for a while but I'll be able to see again eventually. Do I have to wear this? It's uncomfortable..." Jazz whined. The older mech chuckled making a smile once again grace Jazz's face.

"I will bring the others in while I go back to Elita and Optimus," Wheeljack said as he passed Ratchet and gave his coworker and boss a pat on the shoulder plate. Ratchet just nodded.

The door was opened and the two younglings and the sparkling rushed in to see Jazz while Wheeljack simply stepped over them. Prowl was instantly by Jazz's side, curiously gazing up at the youngling on the berth.

"Where do you four live?" Ratchet asked in the process dragging their attention to him.

"We, uh, don't," Smokescreen answered with a shrug.

"You... don't..." Ratchet started before he realized, his optics widening slightly. 'Oh no' he thought to himself. He refused to look at them. If he did...

He glanced down to find all four of them looking up at him with pleading optics. 'Primus help me.'