The Time of Our Lives (part 8)

Ratchet and Clank
Summary: Ratchet and Clank experience many adventures, big and small, in their lives. One thing is for certain, however: they will be together through it all. (Word prompts and snippets)
Genre: Friendship
Rating: T
Characters: Ratchet, Clank
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Trust

There were no doubts about the trust between the dynamic duo. Easily, they could communicate exactly what they wanted during the heat of battle or in the midst of a terrifying crisis. And most of the time, they didn't need to even look at each other to do it, let alone speak. Something about their actions, or when and how they did certain things, they somehow knew what the other was thinking. At times, with a quick glance, it almost seemed as though an entire conversation had passed between the two. It was almost unheard of for two people to be so in sync, but for Ratchet and Clank, it came naturally to them.

This was the case, of course, when they were on the field. In most other situations, however…

“Clank! You just gave away my position to the enemy base!”

“Perhaps if you had refrained from putting those guards out of commission and listened to my plan instead, you would not be compromised.”

“Shut up and give me a hand! I don't have any continues left!”

Merciless button tapping and irritated banter proved videogames to be quite a different story.

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Guilt

In more ways than one, Ratchet could easily describe Clank as being ‘crafty’. He could play mind tricks, or get him to do something he wanted to do with only a few words, should he choose to. Guilt-tripping seemed to be a strong suit for him, and try as he might, his little warbot friend always found a way to get around his defenses.

“You know you will regret this later on,” Clank spoke up, eyeing Ratchet as he reached for a can of soda. Ratchet seemed to hesitate for a moment before swiping the can off of the counter.

“And why exactly would I? I'm thirsty, and here's a perfectly good drink. End of story.”

He cracked it open and was about to take sip until he heard chuckling from his friend.

“I suppose you are right. All of that exercising did take quite a bit out of you. There is no harm in working off the sugar you take in today, tomorrow, right? Cancelling out all of your hard work… but as long as you do not mind this endless cycle, then there should be no problems.”

Clank turned and began walking away, grinning victoriously when he heard, after a pause, a can of soda being slammed into the trash can with a resounding “Dammit, Clank! Reverse psychology sucks!!” from his friend.

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Innocence

“So, you’re what, 10 years old now?”

Clank glanced up at the odd question, and closed his book. Strange, as they had been sitting in silence (minus the constant tinkering sounds from the vehicle Ratchet was working on) for nearly and hour, and the question seemingly came out of nowhere.

“I am approximately 11.36 years old, at this time. Why do you ask?”

“Ah, I was just thinking… you’re a little over 10 years old now, but man was I different when I was your age!”

If he had to describe that line of thinking in one word, it would be ‘interesting’. As he’d come to learn, Ratchet became thoughtful when he was occupied with a job for long periods of time. Or rather, he had a tendency to think too deeply into sometimes trivial or even mundane matters.

“There is little to compare. When I was built, I was fully operational with a mature mindset. You, on the other hand, were born, and from childhood, you developed skills over time.”

Clank had offered Ratchet a bored-yet-perplexed look, but Ratchet wasn’t deterred. He placed his tool back on the workbench and waved his hands in front of himself.

“No no, see, I get that! But think of it like this: when I was 10, I had an entirely different mindset than what I have today! You’ve changed a little bit since we met, too, but you’ve always been kinda the same,” he rubbed the back of his head before continuing, “it’s hard to explain, but… do you know what I’m saying?” Clank mulled over the words briefly, before coming to a plausible conclusion.

“Are you speaking in terms of ‘innocence’, perhaps?”

Now Ratchet appeared slightly perplexed. He seemed to think this idea over before replying.

“I… guess so? Or maturity, maybe. I don't know. Forget about it.”

He quickly picked up his tool and resumed working, as though embarrassed for bringing up the topic in the first place. But Clank was intrigued now, and didn't want to drop the conversation just yet.

“ I do understand what you are speaking about. In regards to maturity, I would say you have plenty more growing to do,” Clank smirked knowingly at the indignant “hey!” from his friend, and continued, “but as for innocence, there is a childlike wonder that may have been lost in life. You are almost 26. And for a robot over 10 years of age, anyone could say I am, considerably, old.”

Ratchet sauntered over and plopped down in the seat next to him. A wide grin spread across his face, and he patted Clank’s head.

“You, old? Ridiculous! But I’ll admit that I have become kinda jaded over time, yeah.” He leaned back on his palms and hummed thoughtfully. Clank was startled when Ratchet suddenly shot up and jabbed a finger in his direction.

“Listen up! We’re both young, and have long lives ahead of us! So stop talking like we’re old coots at the end of our roads here!”

Clank blinked at this sudden outburst, and could only shake his head as he opened his book again to resume reading.

“I am not sure why you are admonishing me. You were the one who posed the question to begin with.”

Innocent? They were far from it. Jaded, maybe a little. But they did, indeed, have long lives ahead of themselves. Clank was certain that, while more innocence would certainly be lost, wisdom would hopefully take its place.

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Unstable

“That does not appear safe.”

“It is too! Just gimme a sec!”

Clank was rather alarmed when he walked into the garage, only to find a large pile of random objects stacked high to the ceiling, Ratchet being near the very top.

“What exactly are you doing?” Clank questioned suspiciously, slightly irritated when he noticed some of his books in the precarious mess. Ratchet climbed higher, careful as the stack swayed a little.

“Well, I needed something from this top shelf, and I couldn't find a ladder. And you weren't around with the jet pack, so I had to… improvise!”

“What could you have needed so desperately from up there that could not wait until I arrived?”

Clank’s suspicion only grew when Ratchet ignored the question entirely, choosing to climb to the top. Just as he claimed whatever he was going for, the pile toppled over, and Ratchet performed an impressive backflip off of it before landing safely on solid ground. It was only when he began walking back towards his desk (and completely ignoring the huge mess, Clank noted with annoyance) that the Omniwrench was revealed to be his object of interest. Though Ratchet was prepared to drop the conversation, one look from his friend told him talking would be a better idea.

“...An enemy… got in, so I threw my wrench at him.”

Clank deadpanned, quiet for another moment before reaching a conclusion.

“You threw it at a moth again and missed.”

“It wouldn't leave me alone! Pestering counts as an act of villainy, right?”

“Your idea of ‘villainy’ is, at the very least, somewhat skewed. It would be an act of ‘villainy’ to leave this mess here, however.” Clank approached the cluttered disaster and began picking his books up off of the ground. Ratchet blinked and glanced around in surprise, seemingly taking in his surroundings for the first time.

“Wow… uh, sorry about that. I'll-”

He, too, had approached the collapsed pile to begin tidying up, but a moth suddenly appeared from its hiding place, fluttering about his head and ears, eliciting a growl from the Lombax.

“I finally got you, you son-of-a-!”

Within seconds, the wrench flew helplessly up onto the top shelf where he’d retrieved it in the first place. They both stared in silence until Ratchet snatched the books from Clank’s hands and shoved them back into the mess.

“Start piling stuff up again! That is… unless you'll let me use the jetpack this time.”

Clank, forlornly, could only bring himself to bury his face in his hands.

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Bird

It is a known fact that Lombaxes have, and have always had, fur. Different colors, patterns, textures, but fur nonetheless.

It was no surprise, then, that Clank nearly burst into laughter at seeing his Lombax friend come home, sparsely covered head to toe in feathers.

“Not a word.” Ratchet shot him a withering glare, and Clank desperately tried to control himself.

“I was merely going to ask how your day has been, but I can tell you are feeling down.” This time, he could hardly suppress his laughter, and was very near his breaking point.

“Oh my god, I am not in the mood for this,” Ratchet grumbled, making a beeline for the bathroom.

“I suppose this should be no caws for alarm. After all, I do not sense fowl play at hand here.” Clank was simply on a roll, and followed him. Ratchet, carefully watching his friend behind him, smirked ever-so slightly.

“Some lady in town was tossing seeds out to birds, and, to put it simply, she got a bit carried away,” he spoke as he began shaking bits of seed out of his clothes, as if to further emphasize his point. His grin grew as he continued, “I guess you could say she was the most enthusiastic bird-feeder I’feather seen.”

At this, the metaphorical dam broke, as their uncontainable laughter rang out through the house.

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Stale

As Clank had come to find, Ratchet had a terrible tendency to keep snacks or bits of food on hand or close-by, specifically so he could keep working without having to stop for a proper meal break. He had gotten better about this over the years thanks to some constant nagging, but he easily fell back into the habit from time to time.

It was not the fact that he didn’t eat proper meals all the time that bothered Clank the most, though.

“Ratchet, how long has that dinner roll been sitting out on your desk?”

Said Lombax glanced up from his blueprints, a chunk of bread roll in his mouth. He chewed and mulled over the question for a second or two, swallowing before answering.

“I dunno. 8 or 9 days, maybe?”

What an absolute travesty. Clank could hardly bear the thought.

“I insist that you stop eating it at once! You know as well as I do that it is stale at this point,” he exclaimed. The very idea that his friend could digest something so very bad for his system… he was a robot, yet somehow the feeling of being “sick to one’s stomach” was conveyed to him by this.

“Clank, you have NO idea how many times I’ve had to eat food past the expiration date when I was younger. This is nothing,” Ratchet merely smirked, stuffing the rest of the roll in his mouth. Clank was ready to argue back, but paused to consider what was just said.

It was true that they already didn't have too much money now, but Ratchet had lived alone for 15 years or so with nothing to his name, and probably had to make do with what he had more often than not. That fact made him feel a little sad inside, yet it didn't distract him from the real issue presently at hand.

“You are going to destroy your system if you keep this up. We have plenty of fresh food in the kitchen, and I am able to cook efficiently, as I have been told.”

He seemed to have gotten his friend’s attention now. All he'd have to do is reel him in and try to get him to kick this poor habit for good this time.

“I can cook meals whenever you would like. Perhaps the stew I had made before? You seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, if I remember correctly.”

Ratchet had perked up entirely by this point. He thought over the suggestion a few times, a small smile growing on his face.

“Well, if you're offering… that actually doesn't sound too bad….”

Maybe now, as far as breaking bad habits go, they were finally getting somewhere.

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Soar

“That is quite a ways up there,” Ratchet whistled and spoke thoughtfully, shading his eyes from the sun.

A gold bolt, glistening beautifully, was spotted high up on a cliff side wedged in a small crevice. Such an obstacle would usually be no problem for the team, but this gold bolt was stuck in a particularly small opening - one that Ratchet was certain if he himself tried to squeeze into it, he wouldn't be able to get out.

“We could try blasting it out if you get me close enough.”

“I will have to disagree with that plan. We would risk causing the entire mountainside to collapse if we chose such an unorthodox method,” Clank mused. They pondered over their options for a while longer, before Ratchet sighed. He didn't really want to suggest this plan, but they had no other choices.

“Whaddya say then? Ready to fly?”

Clank turned to face him, but rather than the vexed disappointment he expected to see, he was met with a confident smile.

“I was waiting for you to say that.”

Ratchet flashed a wide smile in return and brandished his Omniwrench. Clank hopped onto the end and activated his jet thrusters. In one smooth movement, Ratchet spun around twice and launched Clank into the air as hard as he could. Reaching the apex, the jet thrusters roared to life, lifting him several more feet through the air, just high enough to reach the crevice.

The crevice was barely big enough for Clank to fit into, but after a short struggle, he successfully retrieved the gold bolt and leapt out with no hesitation. After a few seconds of free falling, he landed safely in his friend’s awaiting arms, though Ratchet was forced to take a knee from the sudden, hard impact.

“Great job! You okay?” Ratchet asked after placing Clank on the ground and began dusting himself off.

“It was rather exhilarating, if I am being perfectly honest. I would not mind performing this maneuver again in the future, should the need ever arise.”

Ratchet pocketed the gold bolt, then grinned sheepishly.

“Glad to hear it, because I was told there's another gold bolt somewhere around here… possibly in the same situation?”

Clank blinked, then closed his eyes with a sigh. It just might become routine, at this rate.

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Fix

“That should do it, pal. Give it a try,” Ratchet wiped his brow and stood back to inspect his work. Clank tested his left arm a few times, finding a few kinks were still present. After lifting it past shoulder height, a loud, metallic popping sound rang out, and he dropped it to his side limply.

“Crap. Lemme try again.” Ratchet reached for his arm, but Clank turned and backed away quickly.

“You have done a sufficient job. This will do nicely, for the time being.” Clank winced at Ratchet's sudden hurt expression. He smiled sadly after only a second though, rubbing absentmindedly at his own right arm, heavily bandaged all the way up and beyond his shoulder.

“Sorry. You know I'm right-handed, so this isn't turning out as well as usual. Better if I’ve got both hands, right? Ahaha….”

That crash hadn't killed him, but the guilt he felt right then and there might as well have.

Facing a rather large enemy only several hours before, they'd been easily grabbed and tossed straight into a massive tree at one point during their fight. Impressively, Ratchet had rolled midair so they didn't hit it head first - which would certainly have killed them almost instantly. However, they still slammed into it hard enough to smash Clank’s left arm entirely and rattle up his insides, as well as completely shatter Ratchet’s right arm and cause two cracked ribs along with a concussion, rendering him unconscious for several frightening minutes.

It was only moments after regaining his bearings that Clank realized with horror that Ratchet must have taken the brunt of the blow, whether it was intentional or not. And seeing as how nearly their entire arsenal on hand was customized for his friend’s use, he could only hope he was able to keep their latest adversary distracted long enough for Ratchet to wake up.

How they managed to defeat the enemy after that, Clank could never be certain, but they weren't able to walk away from that one steadily without lots of nanotech. Even then, only the majority of their wounds healed, but the heavier damage would take more time, it seemed. Seeing Ratchet clean the blood off of his head from the freshly healed wounds reminded him once again of exactly how fragile organic beings were. Damage to his robotic self could be simply repaired or replaced, but it was not so easy for flesh and bone.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when a hand waved in front of his face.

“Hey, I kinda lost you there for a second. I asked if you’re feeling okay.” Ratchet scrutinized him a little closer now. Though he tried to hide it, Clank could tell those injuries took a lot more out of his friend than he let on, weariness making itself known in his eyes alone. He placed his left hand on Ratchet’s right arm, and Ratchet glanced at him in surprise. Clank lowered his gaze and spoke quietly.

“I am sorry, Ratchet. If I had been faster and caught onto his strategy sooner, we may have been able to avoid that attack. You were badly injured due to my negligence.”

Silence filled the room, and for a moment, Clank wondered if he hadn't heard him, but a fist gently tapping on his head a second later told him otherwise.

“Why are you apologizing? This wasn’t your fault. We're in this together, aren't we? ...And anyways, I should be the one saying ‘sorry’, since I didn't see that last one coming. You protected me when I was out for the count too… so thank you for that,” Ratchet smiled at him assuredly, but somehow that made Clank feel even worse.

“...In a sense, it is much easier for them to break you than it is for them to break me,” Clank unintentionally voiced his inner thoughts. Ratchet appeared ready to fire back a witty retort, but after considering the actual weight behind those words, he stopped himself.

“I know… I know what you're getting at. I understand. But like I said, we’re in this together,” he took his hand and squeezed it tightly, continuing, “and I don’t want you to start trying to take hits for me or something like that. Don’t forget that you have a soul, too, and can just as easily be taken out. We’re a team. We protect each other.”

Clank, speechless, could only stare in awe. Just who was this Lombax, and what had he done with his immature, wisecracking best friend?

Ratchet smiled sincerely at him a moment longer, before a smirk graced his features and he sat up straighter. He let go of Clank’s hand and jammed a thumb to his chest.

“And don’t forget who you’re talking to, here! It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me!”

Ah, there was his best friend. He allowed himself to relax, reveling in the familiarity of it all before moving himself off of the workbench.

“Where are you going?” Curiously, Ratchet began to follow him.

“We have had quite a long day. I believe it would be an excellent idea to go to sleep early tonight,” Clank responded right away, not slowing his pace.

“Ah, sleep sounds amazing right now. I second that idea.”

In the comfort of each other's company, they both slept soundly that night, knowing they’d survived yet another close call. And as for the future, they were certain to protect, support, and fix the other when needed.