randomplaces | TG 'verse. Allspark. Till all are one.

Ratchet walked down the hall and looked into what he and Prima called the spare room. "She's going to be alright, Cyclonus."

"I know that." The former Decepticon second in command didn't look up from the small purple form that lay, intent on the song, on the berth he was sitting on the side of. "What I don't know is why I can leave the Allspark freely, while she, who has been here longer, can't."

"She was sick longer, too," said Ratchet, leaning on the door frame and crossing his arms. "The memory of that is so strong that it still affects her. When she's here surrounded by peace and healing she's fine, but in the outside... there's only her. That, and sparks that haven't got business on the outside can sometimes have a hard time of it."

"She has business." Cyclonus scowled.

Ratchet shook his head.

"No," he said softly. "She hasn't. Her time in the living world is over. Your people will never forget her memory, but they'll probably never see her again, either."

"Is that why Primus isn't healing her? To keep her here?"

"No, he hasn't healed her fully because she won't let him."

The newer ferryman lifted his head to frown at the former medic. "What are you talking about?"

"Listen." Ratchet pointed to Galvatron. "Hear her song?"

Cyclonus cocked his head, his frown deepening as he heard the discordant notes coming from his spark-mate.

"She knows she belongs here. She's become part of the song. But she's also so strongly programmed for dominance and rebellion- it's so much a part of her identity- that she can't let go." Ratchet sighed through intakes that no longer drew air. "That's as close as chaos can come to peace."

Cyclonus listened to those bright, sharp notes, turning his back on the soft sweep of Ratchet's sympathy and sadness. He could feel and hear Galvatron reaching out to the song and their creator, but he could also feel her stubbornly clinging to her identity and knew that that was what was keeping her here on this berth and away from the full communion with their creator and with the other sparks who had crossed the veil.

"She's been in the song before," he growled.

"Never for long. If she hadn't been so tired when she died she might never have let herself into the Allspark, either."

"And you're telling me that no one else has ever done this?" Cyclonus' optics were locked on his lady again.

"No. I don't think there's ever been anyone else like her. No one remembers it. You're close, though."

"Me?" He looked up again, brows drawn together with surprise.

"Yeah, you," said Ratchet, frowning at him. "You're still clinging to who and what you were while you lived."

"So are you!"

Ratchet shook his head. "I was Ratchet, Chief Medical officer of the Autobots. Now I'm only a messenger of Primus and the Allspark. A ferryman for the dead. Part of the song. I remember being Ratchet, and answer to Ratchet... but Ratchet's been gone for over two thousand years."

Cyclonus stared at him, feeling the truth of his words and shuddering slightly.

"It's like the greater Creator... the One who sang the stars into place and built the worlds and Primus with a word... said," said Ratchet quietly. "You have to lay your life down. The only way to be whole is to give your self up."

He looked up as both of them felt a call whisper through the song, then turned his gaze back to Cyclonus as he faded away to answer it. "Till all are one."

Cyclonus continued to gaze unseeing at the spot where he'd been for a long time as his mind struggled to understand.