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Whirl steps gingerly off the shuttle. It’s still weird walking around without the cuffs on his wrists or the weights on his ankles.
He’s free.
Finally free.
It doesn’t seem real.
“Whirl! Whirl! Over here!”
Primus, that voice is so small and excited. Whirl looks over and there they are, Tailgate bouncing in his excitement and Cyclonus standing at his side as stoically as always.
“Hey! Look who it is!” Whirl opens his arms just in time to receive Tailgate’s full weight bowling in under his cockpit with enough force to make even Whirl take a step back.
“You actually came! Cyclonus said he’d asked you and I know you messaged that you were coming but you’re actually here in Tetrahex right now!” Tailgate shrills in excitement and clings to Whirl, tucked firmly in against him. Whirl can feel his tiny engine thrumming. He doesn’t even try to remove Tailgate, just moving himself out of the way of other mechs trying to disembark. Not to be helpful, certainly. Just so they stop bumping into him as they try and get by.
“Hey, I said I was coming! What, did you think some ‘Con was gonna jump me on the way here?” Whirl reaches down to begin the process of carefully prying Tailgate off of his middle, but Tailgate makes a sound of protest and clings tighter.
“Tailgate, let him go,” Cyclonus comes forward to help pry him off of Whirl, but is kept from doing so by being caught up in a crushing hug from Whirl as soon as he’s within reach.
Tailgate giggles at being squished between them and Whirl’s spark might explode with happiness at having them both held so close, Cyclonus’ engine humming over Tailgate’s and straight through Whirl’s entire frame.
“You’re happy he’s here too, Cyclonus! Don’t act like you don’t want a hug too.” Tailgate is beaming. Whirl can tell even though he’s not looking at him.
“Let’s get you both home,” Cyclonus squeezes Whirl once more before releasing him in favor of removing Tailgate from his death grip on Whirl. Tailgate finally relinquishes his hold in favor of snuggling into Cyclonus’ chest.
“Did you have any bags, Whirl?” Tailgate asks.
“Nah, Wreckers travel light,” Whirl says, like it’s a choice and not that he couldn’t have anything of his own in Garrus-10. Cyclonus gives him a look that says he knows, but doesn’t comment. Whirl knew he wouldn’t, and he loves him for it.
Cyclonus gently sets Tailgate back on his feet and transforms, blasting off into the sky. Tailgate transforms as well and a little blue and white car tootles after Cyclonus. Whirl hesitates a moment. They want him to follow. Cyclonus said as much. But...
The high beep of Tailgate’s horn and the roar of Cyclonus’ engines directly above him catch his attention. Cyclonus is circling overhead, clearly waiting for him to transform and join him. Whirl jumps up, transforming mid-leap and using the advantage of his particular alt-mode to launch himself straight up at Cyclonus. Cyclonus roars out of the way at the last moment and Whirl follows in hot pursuit. He doesn’t even pay attention to where Cyclonus is leading him, caught up in the chase and in being in the air again. Eventually, but too soon, Cyclonus angles himself downwards for a landing. Whirl is almost disappointed to follow him. Tailgate is already waiting for them, bobbing in his excitement.
“It looked like you guys were having fun up there!”
“It’s good weather today,” Cyclonus says. He’s even smiling just a little, and his optics are all soft in that way he gets with Tailgate.
“I wish I could fly when I see you two up there! It looks like so much fun!” Tailgate’s visor is bright with joy.
“Maybe next time I’ll take you up there with me. We’ll race Cyclonus and kick his aft.” Whirl leans down to stage-whisper to Tailgate, who giggles. Cyclonus drapes his arm across Whirl’s shoulders.
“Let’s go inside.”
Whirl looks up and realizes that they’ve landed in front of a pretty large house that looks new and neat and so very much like a home.
“Cyclonus designed it for us.” Tailgate takes hold of Whirl’s claw in his tiny hands. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“What, grumpy here made this? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Whirl elbows Cyclonus relatively gently.
“Drift paid for it.” Cyclonus almost sounds embarrassed.
“What? Thought you were loaded!” Whirl stares at him. “Were you just making all that slag up?”
“All my money was in land on Cybertron. Cybertron’s destruction, of course, means all of my money is gone. Was gone. With Drift’s help, I’ve been reinvesting,” Cyclonus explains, eyes on the house.
“You’re talking like you’re business partners or something.” Whirl gives Cyclonus a suspicious look.
“We are. We have been.” Cyclonus smiles a little more. “He’s a good partner.”
“Okay, we can talk about Drift later, but I wanna show Whirl the house now!” Tailgate tugs on Whirl’s claw.
“Yeah, yeah, show me this house. Let me see how good Cyclonus is at designing houses. Is it all dark and gloomy inside?” Whirl lets Tailgate tug him along, Cyclonus following at a comfortable pace.
“Of course not!” Tailgate looks up at Whirl indignantly.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s see.”
Tailgate pulls Whirl in the front door into an open and airy foyer. Of course it all has to be open. Cyclonus is a flier; he wouldn’t want to live somewhere cramped.
“See, and then the living room is here, and there’s the kitchen and the fuel dispenser, and the washracks are here...” Tailgate chatters happily the entire way through, not even leaving enough of a pause for Whirl to get a word in edgewise.
The house is beautiful. It’s big and open and full of light and full of all the signs of life that Whirl hasn’t seen since the Lost Light. A small stack of datapads on a side table. A harp standing in the corner with Cyclonus’ composition table tucked in next to it. Vid discs by the television.
“Wait, wait, I wanna show you the berthroom!” Tailgate pulls Whirl into the berthroom and Whirl has to take a moment to stare. The berthroom is enormous. The berth is similarly huge, more than large enough for Cyclonus and Tailgate with extra space besides.
“What do you two need all this space for? You have whole combiners staying overnight?” Whirl asks.
“Cyclonus likes having lots of space and I think it’s nice!” Tailgate chirps. “Look at these pictures of us that Rewind gave us!” He points at the wall and Whirl dutifully goes over to admire them. He can feel Cyclonus hovering behind him, silent but clearly watching.’’
There’s the expected array of pictures of Cyclonus and Tailgate, both alone and with other friends, on the Lost Light and afterwards. But there are also pictures of Whirl. Whirl with them, Whirl on his own, in moments that he hadn’t known anyone was watching but, of course, he should have known Rewind would catch him. Whirl tucked in with Cyclonus and Tailgate at movie night. Whirl working on a watch, focused in on the delicate mechanisms. Whirl at Swerves with friends, laughing at something that Nightbeat is saying. Whirl himself having trouble speaking.
“You’ve got...a lot of pictures. Of me.”
“We missed you,” Cyclonus says simply.
“Are you okay, Whirl?” Tailgate looks up at him, gently squeezing Whirl’s claw. “You look sad.”
“Hah, me, sad? Never.” Whirl looks down at Tailgate, who immediately brightens.
“Can I show you the best room?”
“Best room? What’s that?” Whirl glances over at Cyclonus, who’s almost-smiling in that way of his.
“It’s a surprise! You just have to see it!”
“Yeah, yeah. Show me.” Whirl glances back at the wall of pictures one last time.
“You’ll like this,” Cyclonus says softly as they leave the berthroom.
“What, is it some kind of weird sex dungeon?” Whirl asks. Cyclonus shakes his head and Tailgate squeaks in embarrassment.
“No! Nothing like that! Here, it’s that door there. You’ve got to go in first!” Tailgate points at the door in question.
“By myself? You sure this isn’t some weird trap?” Whirl asks, even as he opens the door.
He steps into a big, well-lit room. It looks relatively sparse compared with the rest of the house. There’s a workbench, but Whirl’s not sure why Tailgate and Cyclonus are so sure he’s going to like the room that Cyclonus clearly uses to maintain his swords or something. He decides to humor them and steps up to the workbench. There’s a stool there that looks to be at the right height for him. He gingerly takes a seat at the workbench.
A quick glance over his shoulder reveals Tailgate practically vibrating with anticipation in the doorway and Cyclonus standing at his shoulder. His eyes are sharply focused on Whirl.
“Open the drawers!” Tailgate blurts out before he claps both hands over his masked mouth as if to contain himself.
“What, did Cyclonus get a bunch of tiny swo--” The words die in Whirl’s vocalizer as he opens a drawer and finds what the two of them are so excited about.
Tools.
Tools for clockmaking.
Good tools for clockmaking.
Another drawer contains supplies.
A third has more tools.
A look to his left shows a shelf of datapads. The first one he picks up is one of the seminal texts on clockmaking.
Whirl sits in a stunned silence.
They built this for him.
They made this space for him, not even knowing if he would ever come.
A pair of tiny hands settles on his arm. A larger pair rests on his shoulders.
“You built all this...” Whirl’s vocalizer gives out and he just shakes his head.
“Because you were wrong,” Tailgate says, sounding very serious.
“What?” Whirl just stares at him.
“You told me a long time ago that love stories never have a happy ending. And you were wrong.” Tailgate moves from merely touching his arm to hugging it.
“This one does,” Cyclonus rumbles, and he joins Tailgate in hugging Whirl as well, larger frame covering Whirl from behind. “For all of us.”
Whirl is quiet for a long moment while his vocalizer tries and fails to reset.
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it does.”