Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The stoic mech looked down on Prowl. The third frame youngling felt his wings start to droop. However, Prowl forced them up in a proud stance. Faintly he could hear his carrier whisper in his processor to never cower to those who thought him inferior. Because more likely than not, they were the inferior one.

Prowl still doubted. His carrier had been talking about his glitch back then. The mech that stood so judging right now did not know about it. He thought Prowl lesser regardless.

Looking questioningly to his right, Prowl pleaded silently for his brother to make the mech before them to stop looking at him like that.

Barricade flared his sensor panels, his EMF always seemed to have a twinge of superiority and pride in it. He stood up to the mech before them. It didn’t seem to bother Barricade that the mech completely towered over him.

“Please, Captain.” Barricade… somehow didn’t beg. It didn’t seem to be in his programming. Prowl had never heard him say please before this cycle. Barricade definitely didn’t seem to enjoy it. He growled out the glyph from somewhere deep inside his vocalizer. The rev of his engine almost drowned it out. “He has nowhere else to go!”

The Captain turned his ominous optics from Prowl to his brother. “There are rules for a reason, Barricade.” The tall mech rumbled. Prowl flinched at the way he dragged out his brother’s designation. “The seas are no place for a youngling, especially one of his upbringing- landlocked, nowhere near the wild energon. Take him home, we will be departing in a-”

“There is no home!” Barricade barked, wings flaring.

Prowl winced, looking around the bustling harbor. Some mecha glanced up curiously at his brother’s outburst, but ultimately looked away and went back to work.

Captain didn’t seem to like being cut off. His plating bristled as he glared Barricade down. However, he stayed quiet as Prowl’s brother went on a rant.

“We were kicked out.” Barricade admitted bitterly. “It’s why I took on this excursion. We were desperate for the shanix. I hated that I’d have to leave Prowl alone that long, but it’d be worth it if we still had a place.”

Barricade’s plating slumped. “But the creds came too late. We were out on the streets before we knew it.”

Prowl looked away from his brother, sensor panels drooping. This time his carrier’s voice was too faint for him to care.

The collision that had snuffed their procreators was still fresh. It had only been a few vorns ago. They had just been… gone.

Prowl was lucky to have just gotten his third- and final- youngling upgrades. Otherwise he was sure he would have gone into the system. And he’d only heard bad things about younglings with glitches like him entering.

His last couple decavorns as a minor would be spent with his elder brother, much to the court's dismay. It was concluded that separating Prowl from Barricade would likely only cause the youngling more distress, intensifying the glitch. It didn’t hurt that their creators had been well off and had the right friends. Prowl’s custody transfer to Barricade went by quickly, allowing the brothers to face their next obstacle in life.

Their creators had owned a lovely home that Barricade and Prowl couldn’t afford. Even with the shanix trust their creators had set up for them, Barricade ended up begrudgingly selling most of their assets as he scavenged for a job. They ended up getting a decent dwelling that gave them a roof over their helms.

…for a while.

Glaring at the Captain, Barricade huffed and flared his sensor wings. “I can’t leave Prowl here. He’ll either be swept into the gangs as a starved Empty or experimented on by the government once YPS snatches him up. I won’t let that happen.”

“So bringing the youngling on a deca-vorn expedition is your only option?” The Captain growled, optics narrowing. “The sparkling is better off with YPS than your irresponsible aft. You’re lucky I’m taking you on this job. Just take him to an Enforcer station to surrender custody and be here before we set off.”

Prowl felt his sensor wings flare dramatically at the statement. Although Prowl knew Barricade probably wasn’t the best replacement for their creators, he at least tried. He also knew Prowl better than any other mecha. He was the only mech ever able to talk Prowl out of a crash. Not even Carrier was able to do that! 

Gathering his confidence, Prowl opened his intake to argue on his brother’s behalf but froze when Barricade warned him off with his EMF. The way Barricade glared intensely at the Captain told Prowl they had taken their argument to the comms. Prowl flicked his sensor wings rudely but stayed quiet. He could feel his frustration and anger build up. Already some errors were popping up on his HUD. 

Instead of worrying, Prowl let Barricade fight his own battles. Even if this particular battle focused around Prowl. It was better to focus on his venting so he wouldn’t crash right then and there at the harbor.

The thing was, even though there might be more qualified caretakers out there for Prowl, he wouldn’t want them anyway. Afterall, they could have shown up to Prowl’s court cases. They could have shown they cared about him individually and not just trying to be controlling. That’s all YPS cared about. Control. Others didn’t want to deal with a glitched mechling, even if for only a couple of vorns. Because their designations would forever be tied to Prowl’s. 

Looking over at Barricade, Prowl felt the usual guilt start to take over. No one wanted him, and Prowl knew Barricade wasn’t an exception. He just felt obligated since they were kin. Prowl knew that if he didn’t exist, Barricade would have easily gotten along without him. Every asset in the trust would still be his. He would still have a home to go back to after this job. To the Pits, Barricade probably wouldn’t even be forced to take dangerous voyages across the Rust Sea if Prowl hadn’t been around. 

Prowl was just extra baggage. A pathetic weight that his brother was forced to drag around. 

A glitch in the perfection that made up Cybertron. 

More errors came up. Prowl flapped his sensor wings, focusing on the air currents flowing over them. He tried to figure out what Carrier would say in this situation, but the whispers in his memory files were too muddled. 

::Stay with me, Prowl.:: Barricade’s gruff voice was suddenly saying in his helm. Prowl looked over at his brother in surprise, but Barricade was snarling up at the Captain. However, his EMF mingled with Prowl’s. The comfort and understanding in Barricade’s field made Prowl latch onto it instantly. ::You’re doing good, brother. Count the masts for me, okay? And give me the mean estimate of how many solar sails are on each mast. Can you do that?::

Prowl pinged an affirmative, looking out at the huge ships docked at the harbor. His processor instantly started crunching the numbers. He’d always been good at math. 

The city-state of Praxus didn’t have a huge portion of territory that bordered the Rust Sea. With the city-state being so large, many Praxians have never seen the sea even though they didn’t come from a landlocked nation. Prowl was one of them. 

However, Barricade had spent most of his sparkling and youngling vorns by the sea. It wasn’t until their creators had Prowl- and realized he had a glitch- that the family had moved toward the city-state center to get better medical attention. His experience close to the sea made Barricade eligible for marianna and sea-faring jobs. 

The last vorn had been Prowl’s first time in contact with the Rust Sea. He had been in awe of the massive ships that floated on the surface. Many sneered at them. When put against the more sophisticated star cruisers and outer space exploration, traveling the Rust Sea and other energon and solvent pools seemed dull in comparison. 

Prowl knew that to not be the case. He had studied up on the subject when Barricade dragged them out here. The Rust Sea along with the mecha and machines that traveled through it had as rich a history as Cybertronians interacting with other worldly species. In fact, because Cybertron has been so focused on what was above, they didn’t know as much about what was below. 

It was like a huge puzzle. And they didn’t have even half the puzzle pieces to entirely understand it. 

This knowledge made Prowl understand why the Captain was hesitant to take such an inexperienced mechling on his expedition. But Prowl wasn’t going to back down, and he knew his brother wouldn’t either. Prowl knew all the likely outcomes, and haranguing the Captain into taking Prowl was the best consequence. 

A servo clapping Prowl on the shoulder pauldron jolted Prowl out of his counting. His sensor wings flared up as he looked over at the new mech that joined their little group. He was a tall, red and black mech with thick plating. Prowl looked him over to see deep scarring over his armor and protoform. He had sensor fins on his helm. One was busted while the other seemed to have piercings along the side of it. His EMF was wild and chaotic. It rubbed Prowl the wrong way. 

“What’s going on here, folks?” The mech asked smoothly, gazing lazily between Barricade and the Captain. “You're already throwing fits, Barry? Can’t say I’m surprised. You always had a temper.” 

Barricade’s sensor panels flared at the mech, but- to Prowl’s surprise- he relaxed them after a klik. Prowl’s brother stared the new mech down, optics boring into the other. 

“Wild Claw,” the Captain sneered, not seeming to like the interruption. “You’re supposed to be going through the checks. I won’t have the Dystopia sinking just a league out of the port.” 

The new mech- Wild Claw- scoffed. Prowl flailed a little when Wild Claw started to lean on him. “Please, the ship’s fine. Terrain’s finishing up with the logs and we’ll be able to set sail.”

The Captain huffed. His plating puffed out a moment. “I expect more responsibility from my first mate, Wild Claw.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason the Dystopia ’s crew is called the Rejet Hull.” Wild Claw grumbled. He finally glanced down at the mech he was leaning all his weight against. “Did we drag up a cabin youngling to tag along? Can’t say I’m surprised with-”

“Negation.” The Captain said firmly, cutting off Wild Claw. “The sparkling comes from Barricade’s line. Your crew mate was just going to-”

“File the data work necessary to bring him abroad.” Barricade sneered, crossing his arms over his chassis. He glared at the Captain. “I’m not leaving him behind.” 

“Cool.” Wild Claw said. He finally took his weight off Prowl. Taking the opportunity, Prowl put Barricade between himself and Wild Claw. “You have all the required documents?” 

Latching onto the opening, Barricade nodded. He unsubspaced a datapad. “Just need confirmation that Prowl is recognized by the Dystopia to be a part of her crew.” 

“First mate signature ought to be enough.” Wild Claw figured, looking over the documentation. “Since she’s not a sparked ship, someone will have to be doing the signing. Hand it over, Barry.”  

“Absolutely not!” The Captain scolded. He went to snatch the datapad away, but Wild Claw was faster. He raised the pad above his helm, out of the Captain’s reach. It was only then that Prowl realized how tall Wild Claw was. 

The Captain rumbled his engine. “Give it here, Claw. That mechling isn’t going anywhere near my ship.”

“ Loaned ship.” Wild Claw corrected gleefully. “Loaned by my noble house, if I remember correctly. And the ship will be mine one day, just you wait.”

The Captain scoffed, his disbelief radiating in his field. “You’re a bastard’s child, Claw. Your spark chamber doesn’t even belong to you.” 

Wild Claw’s engine revved loudly. “Hey! I made a deal with my sire. I work under you for a decavorn and I get my carrier’s ship.”

“Assuming you can last.” The Captain sneered. “You’ve already proven you can’t take orders.” 

“Respect be earned, my captain.” Wild Claw answered smoothly. “You’ve done nothing to earn loyalty from your crew.” 

“That goes both ways, youngin.” The Captain growled, plating flared.

“Yeah, but I’d say you’d need ours more.” Wild Claw drawled. He nodded towards Prowl. “Let the kid board. If you don’t let him on, Barry here will just make him a stowaway.”

“Wish him all the luck.” The Captain spat. “I’ve never let turborats get past me.” 

“Eh, but your crew usually has your back, don’t they?” The eccentricness in Wild Claw’s EMF flared. “I’ll make it my mission to get the kid to set sail with us, just to spite you.”

The Captain’s engine roared.

As the two bickered, Barricade and Prowl watched. Prowl looked up to his brother, wondering who Wild Claw was to him. More than coworkers, he concluded. Barricade never let any mech- not even their creators- call him Barry. Although he didn’t seem pleased Wild Claw called him this, Barricade didn’t grumble over it. 

“Fine!” The Captain suddenly said, field seething. “The sparkling can come.” He spat, making Prowl’s sensor wings perk up. The Captain glared Barricade down, there was a heavy weight in his optics. “You give him the coding for the ship?”

Barricade winced, wings dipping for a moment. “Uh, no, sir. I didn’t think they were transferable.”

The Captain sneered, obviously not pleased with the answer. 

“Oh, it’s fine .” Wild Claw said, brushing off any concern. “The kid won’t be left to his own devices. He won’t need them anyway.”

“This is going against so many regulations.” The Captain grumbled, but seemed defeated. “Fine! But I will not- under any circumstance- be held accountable for injuries sustained by the youngling.” 

“Great, you want that in writing?” Wild Claw asked as he started signing the datapad.

The Captain straightened, plating bristling. “Preferably.” He grumbled, optics narrowed.

Wild Claw looked up in disbelief. “Mech, I was joking . What do you think is going to happen?” 

It started up another score of bickering, one Barricade easily entered. Prowl stayed out of it. When the warring EMFs got too much, he went back to his counting. Ships had come and gone, making him start over his calculations. 

A couple joors later- with some scrambled together contract- Prowl found himself following his elder brother up the boardwalk that led to the ship’s deck. His spark spun a tad bit faster as he realized he was going on a trading expedition over the Rust Sea. Below them, the mineral rich energon sloshed against the side of the ship. It was an eerie cycle when the wild energon went still. 

“Stick close to me.” Barricade ordered gruffly. “We’re going to my quarters. I hope you brought those tactic games you love so damn much, because you’ll probably be spending a lot of time cooped up.” 

Before Prowl could answer, the mechling found someone leaning their arms on each shoulder pauldron. His sensor wings flared, just barely avoiding Wild Claw’s chassis. The taller mech peered down at Prowl with an off-putting grin. 

“Aw, c’mon, Barry.” Wild Claw teased. Annoyance flared through Barricade’s field. “This is a chance of a lifetime! Let the kid stretch his struts. We can always use another pair of servos on deck.” 

Barricade looked Wild Claw over suspiciously. “We’ll see.” He said testily.

Wild Claw just laughed. 

He stopped leaning on Prowl, much to the youngling’s relief. It was short lived when the tall mech slapped him on the back, right between his sensor wings. 

“Welcome to the Dystopia, Prowl.” Wild Claw exclaimed. He walked next to Prowl as Barricade started leading them toward the lower decks. “You’ll be in for the adventure of your lifetime!”

Chapter Text

Prowl looked out the porthole. All that he could see was a white fog that seemed to thicken by the klik. The third-frame youngling clutched his datapad closer, feeling an unease wash over him.

It had been half a vorn since the Dystopia had left the harbor. Other younglings would have thought a trip out onto the Rust Sea would be a dream come true. They’d see an adventure of a lifetime. One that couldn’t go to waste. They’d probably get under ped and shenanigans would occur.

However, Prowl wasn’t like that. A lot of things have gone wrong in his short life. His every move was scrutinized because of his glitch. One mistake and mecha would point it out gleefully. If Prowl wasn’t perfect then he was seen as rust infecting Cybertron’s great many cogs. 

‘You’re a youngling, Prowl. You’re supposed to learn and explore. No one’s perfect all the time, especially when that someone hasn’t experienced everything the world has to offer. Branch out. As long as you learn from the mistakes you make, then you’ve done nothing wrong in your life, my sparklet.” 

Prowl looked down at his datapad, clutching it tighter to his chassis. His carrier was the only one he knew of that didn’t treat him differently for being glitched. His sire had been… awkward, like he didn’t know how to act around Prowl. Carrier had hated his attitude. A lot of his creators’ fights centered around him. 

Then there was Barricade. He was overbearing and protective, especially after their creators joined the Allspark. Prowl didn’t think his brother would have been so dominating if he hadn’t worried about his glitch. 

When they went to school, Barricade made sure no bullying happened under his watch. Like it mattered, after he had gone onto secondary schooling, the bullies had swarmed Prowl. It would have almost been better if Barricade had let his peers pick on him. Then Prowl would have had support from Barricade while he had still been there.

Instead, the bullies mercilessly attacked him. Be it by mere words alone or just their endless presence being picked up by Prowl’s sensor wings. They barely ever got physical. However, when they did, it would be to trip him, push him, flick at his plating, or (rarely, but it would happen) go for his wings. 

It had confused him to no end when the bullying started up after Barricade left. He could understand it somewhat. Their top suppressor was gone. But Barricade could only be by Prowl’s side for so long during the early vorns. He was grades ahead of Prowl, afterall. Why hadn’t they just attacked when Barricade hadn’t been around? 

The question ate at Prowl. And the emotional frustration of not knowing/understanding put his glitch into fits. 

After some hard crashes and social observation, Prowl had come to the conclusion that his bullies picked on him because they wanted a reaction. Not just crashing and glitching out (although that seemed to be a bonus) but if Prowl gave them any attention, they’d call it a win. 

So Prowl started to close off. He acted like the peers that taunted him were ghosts. For a while, it just worsened the bullying as they tried to get a reaction, but their words and actions soon dwindled. It didn’t go away. It would never go away until he had graduated. But it had become manageable. 

The bullies had taught Prowl to always have a neutral mask on. Emotions were what they wanted, so Prowl never showed the feelings he had. Even when he wasn’t in school, Prowl tried not to react. It had made his carrier worry, thinking his glitch was getting worse. Especially when Prowl started hiding himself away so what little emotions he could feel without crashing wouldn’t surface. He found no emotions better than too much. 

His carrier had been trying to ‘snap him out of his funk’ when the inevitable day arrived. Both creators were suddenly gone, and the world around Prowl changed. It made some emotion seep back into him, if only to try and mourn his creators. Then by making the courts see Barricade as a pseudo-creator figure so his life could somewhat remain stable.

That had left him in a cramped crewmech’s quarters, looking out a porthole to the foggy sea around the Dystopia. He holed himself up in Barricade’s quarters to avoid reacting. His brother would even bring him his energon. The only members of the crew Prowl had interacted with were the Captain and Wild Claw. If they were anything to go by, Prowl thought it strategic to stay below deck.

Until now, his plating clamped tight against his protoform. The sight of endless nothingness made his spark cycle irregularly. Something inside him screamed at him that everything wasn’t okay. 

Getting up from his cramped bunk, Prowl made his way outside Barricade’s quarters. The wall separating it from the rest of the crew’s area was just a quickly strung up tarp since Barricade wasn’t high up enough for true sleeping chambers. The crew was kind enough to want to give the only youngling on board some privacy, so they gave Barricade and Prowl the corner. 

Pulling the tarp aside, Prowl felt his doorwings pin against his back when he saw some of the crew were already in their bunks recharging. He looked at his HUD to find it just past their star’s setting time. Most of the crew would be clocking out soon for some processor defrag while the ship was armed with a skeleton crew. Prowl knew Barricade would be making his way down in a few breems.

Still, Prowl felt the foreboding turn of his spark couldn’t wait and made his way to the deck. 

The Dystopia wasn’t the biggest sailing ship Cybertron had to offer, but it wasn’t anything to laugh at either. It was easy to get lost, another reason why Prowl hadn’t wanted to explore. He knew how to get from the deck to his quarters, and from both locations to the kitchens. Wild Claw had also forced him to know where his private quarters stood. Not like Prowl ever ventured in that direction. 

As he made it up the steps to the world above, Prowl bristled when hearing that familiar voice.

“Whoa, look who crawled out of the metal work!” 

Bracing, Prowl felt irritation rise in him when Wild Claw’s plating entered the corner of his optic as he used Prowl as his leaning post. A cocky grin came across the tall, red mech’s face. “Finally stopped brooding like all the stereotypical third-frame younglings and are ready to join us real mecha?” 

Prowl just glared at Wild Claw. “My vorns would have been tremendously easier if I was ‘just like all the stereotypical third-frame younglings.’ But, unfortunately, I am not. Maybe I wouldn’t have met your acquaintance if I had been.” 

“Ouch, kiddo.” Wild Claw said, grinning. “You here to hurt all the crew’s feelings, right down to the spark?”

The leering tone made Prowl bristle. “Get off me.” He sneered calmly, flaring his wings. 

“Yeah, yeah. Your frame, your rules.” Wild Claw said easily, raising his servos and walking up the rest of the steps. “I’m assuming you’re after your brother? Follow me.” 

Wild Claw beckoned Prowl forward as he went out the doors. Prowl stubbornly stayed put a klik before reluctantly following after the first mate.  

Seeing the fog in person was so much worse. It was thick and cloying. Prowl blocked his ventilation systems, not liking the feel of it seeping into his internals. His frame instantly started to heat up- likely due to his anxiousness- but in the end it benefited him by keeping the chill air at bay.

Mecha bustled around performing their different duties. Most were sluggish, ready to hit the recharge slabs. The exception was Wild Claw. His cheery demeanor walking through the exhausted mecha made Prowl’s ire for him grow.

“Here you are, sparklet.” Wild Claw said, spinning around to face Prowl when they stopped at one of the masts. 

Prowl tilted his helm, confused. He looked around for Barricade, finding no black plating anywhere.

“I am not in the mood for games.” Prowl declared, glaring at the first mate. “Just tell me where my brother is and-”

“Here, Prowlie.” 

Prowl’s helm snapped up. His sensor wings flared in surprise to find Barricade climbing down from the steelcrow’s nest. Prowl felt his spark fall out of rotation a moment watching his brother take a rope and swing off the rusted ladder prongs to land on the ship’s deck.

Barricade’s sharp optics narrowed on Prowl a klik before turning to Wild Claw. “What are you doing bringing Prowl up here, Claw? He doesn’t need to be around you losers.” 

Wild Claw cackled. “Oh, excuse me for bringing this little sparklet back to his big bro.” The first mate swept a servo out. Prowl moved a klik too late, and Wild Claw snatched him up. Wrapping his servo around Prowl’s chassis, Wild Claw brought him close, rubbing at his helm. “Can’t have him wandering off and getting lost in the lower levels, now can we?” 

Prowl squirmed in Wild Claw’s hold, hating the strange EMF mingling with his own. The restraining arm suddenly disappeared only for both servos to push in between his wings. Prowl floundered, tripping over his peds. Before he could really panic, Barricade was catching him. The elder Praxian glared daggers at the first mate. 

Barricade quickly turned back to his brother, looking him over. “You okay, Prowlie?”

“Yes,” Prowl responded immediately, although the sense of foreboding stayed with him. He took a step toward his brother, nudging under his arm. “Just…worried.” Prowl looked out over the sea, the fog was thick and plentiful. The more Prowl stared, the more his plating crawled.

Something wasn’t right.

Barricade gave Prowl a soft look, stroking the smaller Praixian’s chevron with two digits. “That’s alright. Let’s head back. My shift’s over anyway.”

“Actually, it ends in two breems.” Wild Claw interrupted, a teasing smirk on his faceplates. 

“Oh, shut up, Claw.” Barricade snarled back, wacking the first mate on the side of the helm. “Can’t see anything through the fog, anyway. Won’t do us any good with me stuck up there.”

“Fine, fine. However, I’m going to have to-”

“Do what? Write me up? Who cares, we’re in the middle of nowhere!” Barricade snarled, his usually amused annoyance turning angered.

“Hey, I’m just trying to follow protocol. I thought that was something you of all mecha would appreciate-”

“Mech overboard!” 

The call had both Barricade and Wild Claw at rapt attention. The last of the crew on deck were all huddled by the side of the ship, frantically shouting and pointing down at the liquid below.

Wild Claw muttered a curse before running over, Barricade not far behind. “Stay here, Prowlie.” The mostly black Praxian urged his younger brother.

Prowl flared his sensor wings in annoyance. His jaw clenched as Barricade rushed toward the group.

I’m done being useless. Prowl thought, jogging over. His wings flared, picking up the mumbled conversations of the crew.

“How did they-”

“...could be so stupid.”

“Who?”

“Does it matter? Get the…”

Coming up to the edge of the huddle, Prowl leaned over the edge to see that indeed there was a mech in the water. He wasn’t right at the edge of the ship (that would be suicide since the pull of the ship’s engines would probably shred him) but out a ways in the sloshing liquid. He was almost lost to the fog. 

“Don’t worry, mate.” Wild Claw called out from the middle of the group. A couple mecha were scrambling to follow his orders. “We’ll get you out.” Wild Claw turned away, muttering about “idiot deserves what gets him.”

Prowl turned to really study the mech. He seemed tiny, but that could have just been the distance between them. Everything seemed small from the Dystopia ’s deck. Besides his size, Prowl thought the mech seemed weird. He was just floating there, standing still even when the gentle waves lapped right over him. 

From what Prowl could make out, the mech was black with some white accents. That made him uneasy. Although Prowl didn’t interact much, he did know that most of the crew had vibrant colors. They stood out against the monochrome ship whereas Barricade and Prowl blended in with the background. Prowl didn’t think there was any other black and white mecha on board…

That unsettled feeling from earlier started taking over. Prowl looked over at his brother. He seemed to be unraveling some rope. The rest of the crew were getting together on one of the lifeboats. Their motions were frantic and hurried.

Prowl hesitated to call out to his brother, but he couldn’t push down his anxiety. Stepping around the crew, Prowl went up to the elder Praxian. “Barricade?”

“Prowl.” Barricade’s helm snapped up, optics intensely looking Prowl over. “What did I say? I told you to stay away from the edge!”

“I…I don’t-” Prowl started to stutter. The harsh tone made Prowl tense up. The younger Praxian felt his spark speed up. He brought a servo up to press against his chassis plating. A warning popped up about overheating systems on his HUD.

Seeing his brother’s distress, Barricade immediately softened. He put a servo on Prowl’s shoulder and squeezed. His EMF enveloped Prowl comfortingly. “Why don’t you go below deck.” Barricade suggested easily. “I’ll be down in a breem or so once-”

“What the frag is that thing?!”

Chapter Text

Barricade and Prowl looked over to see the crew in a riot. More mecha had come above deck. The crew gossip was notorious for getting curious mecha to come hither when they sensed something was arised. 

Every mecha seemed to be pointing and shouting at the mech in the water.

“...there’s a tail?!”

“What kinda messed up transformation sequence…”

“It’s just a myth!”

“-sharticon!-”

Barricade sighed exhaustedly when he heard the sharticon snippet. He pulled Prowl away, not wanting his little brother to see a mech get brutally murder by the mechanimal. “C’mon, Prowlie, nothing to see here. Go back to the bunks and I’ll join you in a moment.”

He nudged Prowl towards the doors to go below. When Barricade stepped away, Prowl clung to his brother’s arm, shaking his helm. “No! You have to come too!”

“What- Prowlie!” Barricade exclaimed as the youngling used all his might to haul Barricade with him. “I’m needed up here. I-”

“How many mecha does it take to prepare a lifeboat?” Prowl asked with blazing optics. “There’s plenty up here to give a servo. We need to…”

“We need to what, Prowl?” Barricade asked gently, reeling his brother in to deepen their EMFs connection.

“I-I… I don’t know!” Prowl wailed, hugging his brother close. “I don’t feel right. My spark-”

Barricade’s sensor wings flared in alarm. “Your spark?!” When he got a confirmation through their fields, Barricade felt himself start to panic. He knelt, taking Prowl’s helm and stilling it so he could look at the younger Praxian in his optics. “What’s wrong with your spark?!”

“I don’t know!” Prowl said again, frustration. “It- it just feels weird, okay, Cade? Something’s wrong, something’s happening and I don’t like it.” 

“Okay, Prowlie, okay.” Barricade said, soothing his brother as he held him. His servos protectively went over Prowl’s chassis. He looked out in their foggy surroundings, protective protocols flaring to life. He couldn’t lose another spark close to him. 

“Please, can we just go.” Prowl asked again, trying not to wince at his brother’s servo’s on his chassis plating. Ever since he’d walked away from the edge of the boat, his spark had started to… Prowl didn’t know how to describe it. Almost itchy. The urge to claw his plating up and sink his digits into his core to try and relieve the feeling was growing. “If they really need you, they’ll comm.” 

“Alright, Prowlie.” Barricade said reluctantly, looking at the rest of the freaked out crew. By their exclamations, the sharticon was already devouring the poor mech. There wouldn’t be any boat sent out. And his little brother came first. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Wild Claw said sharply. He was coming up from below decks with a confused scowl. 

“Prowlie doesn’t feel good. I think his glitch is acting up.” Barricade explained. Prowl winced at his glitch being brought up but didn’t say anything. Barricade had used the excuse before to dip out of school when they were both feeling out of it. The mentors usually didn’t know how to interact with Prowl because of it and gladly excused them for a cycle of normality.

“Fragging perfect timing.” Wild Claw snarled sarcastically. His tone made Prowl’s sensor wings twitch. He’s heard the first mate in various tones, but never something so… mean. Wild Claw tracked Prowl’s flinch and the light in his optics changed. Armor plating loosening, Wild Claw sighed. “Can you just help me get the non essentials back below deck real quick? The dolt overboard can get all the attention he wants next cycle.”

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Barricade said with a grimace. Wild Claw’s field darkens.

“Great. Can’t wait to explain that to the Captain.” 

Barricade looked over at the doors and back to Wild Claw. “Didn’t you…”

“Fraggers gone and disappeared. No idea where he is.” Wild Claw explained.

“Maybe he’s the one overboard.” Barricade said with a flash of denta.

Wild Claw returned the smile. “Yeah, if only.” His jovial mood turned serious after a moment. “We’ll worry about his reaction later. Right now-”

“First Mate Wild Claw, sir!” Some mech explained, getting Wild Claw’s attention. “You have to see this.”

“Whatever it is.” Another mech sniped. “I can barely believe it and I’m seeing it with my own optics!” 

Wild Claw frowned, striding forward. “What are you talking about?” 

“The slagging merformer in the rust!”

“What?!” Wild Claw and Barricade exclaimed in disbelief. They pushed past the crowding mech- Prowl not far behind- to get a look. 

Prowl ended up just behind his brother and Wild Claw, unable to see. He flared his sensor wings in annoyance before squirming his way between the first mate and Barricade. Wild Claw was cursing up a storm while Barricade’s EMF went dead. 

Once he had a spot at the rail, Prowl looked down. He gaped at what he saw.

The monochrome mech from before sloshed through the stained energon. The fog that had mostly obscured him before was starting to fade. It showed geometric swirls of white pattering his black paint and vice versa with his white accents. A sleek blue visor covered his optics. That blue echoed back in some parts of the intricate patterning on him when the light hit his plating just right. Small sensor horns curved on the sides of his helm.

And instead of kicking peds- were the smooth, powerful strokes of a black and white swirling patterned tail . Two sets of transparent dorsal fins sleek off the sides of the tail while powerful tail fins cut through the water. The whole appendage moved creepily. Most aquatic creatures’ tails moved side to side or up and down. Not the merformers. He’s easily churned the energon in a cycling motion. It might help that the tail was almost three times the size of the mech’s upper body. 

“Are we sure we don’t have Rusted Processor?” Barricade grumbled lightly, referring to a common sickness that engulfs sailors (usually new timers). One of the main symptoms was hallucinations. “Because I’m sure we’re looking at a myth.”

“What’s a myth?” 

Everyone turned to see crew members that had remained below deck starting to make their way up. They grumbled and snarled, not liking their recharge cycles to be interrupted. The deck got louder as everyone in the crew realized and saw what was in the water.

“Okay,” Wild Claw exclaimed as the noise escalated, “okay, enough! Everything’s fine.”

“Yeah, sure.” A rowdy yellow and brown bot said. “You know what those things do in the legends? We’re doomed! We’re all going to die!”

That got the noise to get louder, shouts and frantic babbling drowning out any reason.

“We’re not going to die!” Wild Claw said, not getting a response. 

Prowl watched the growing chaos hesitantly. He easily went when Barricade drew him closer. The elder Praxian flared his sensor wings out to give Prowl space while soothing his field over the youngling’s. Prowl turned toward Barricade, sensor wings pinned to his back plates. The noise made his helm pound and spark ache even more. 

::Shut up!:: Barricade suddenly shouted over a wide frequency comm. It got everyone to turn their rapt attention to him. Overboard, Prowl heard an ominous splash of the rusted energon.

Glaring at the crew, Barricade rumbled his engine. ::No one’s dying. So there’s… a merformer. It hasn’t done anything. If we leave it alone, it’ll likely leave us alone. No more freaking out, it won’t do any good.::

“What Barricade said.” Wild Claw announced aloud. “We’ll keep an optic on it, but otherwise just ignore it. Go back to your shifts. It’s likely just someone subprocessoring their hallucination after getting Rusted Processor. Recharge and fuel can remedy that.”

“All this excitement for nothing.” The yellow and brown bot exclaimed. “Why’d I even wake up out of recharge.”

Wild Claw turned sharply to the complaining bot. “And why are you up here?”

“Captain sent us.” The bot said easily.

It only seemed to annoy the first mate more. He huffs in exasperation. “And where’s he at?”

“I don’t know,” the yellow and brown bot shrugged, “I just got a comm to get up on deck. Emergency or something’.”

Before anyone could react to the statement, an eerie sound suddenly emits into the air. EMFs freeze up and still as the high pitch yet deep sound rings out through the air. Voices overlap each other, soft and rasping. The fog that had been dissipating curls in the air like a living thing, seeping onto the ship. Bots back away, plating clamping down.

The high pitch, rasp whispers were followed by hissing. Some… energy enters the fields of the crew, reaching out to their sparks. Prowl cowers away, the energy invasive and chilling. Barricade’s grip on his shoulder goes slack, his plating loosens.

“What was that?” Prowl’s brother mutters. 

“...what?” Prowl whispers, the energy thickening and cloying, seeping into his very seams. The sounds around them become louder. A silence enters Prowl’s processor. He shakes his helm, but he can barely think as it blankets over him.

“A new protocol has just been activated.” Barricade mumbles to answer Prowl’s question. But he’s barely heard over the noise.

“...oooooOOOOooooooOOOO…”

“...aaahhhAAAHHHaaahhhAAAHHH…”

Prowl turned away from his helm away from his brother and looked out as new voices joined the noise. Their star has long ago set, leaving inky blackness in its wake. No other stars are visible, the fog blocking it out. Prowl vented in and out, and felt the thick gas fill his intakes.

The singing continued in a comforting pattern. Yet the energy surrounding them made Prowl feel even more uncomfortable. The voices that reminded him of his carrier twisted like a nightmare come to life.

“...oooooOOOOooooooOOOO…”

“...aaahhhAAAHHHaaahhhAAAHHH…”

“Oooooahhh. Oooahhh.”

“OOOHHHooohhhohhh.”

“What’s happening?” Prowl whimpered. He rubbed at his spark, the pain sharpening like a knife was piercing the outer core.

No one answered him. Everyone was looking off in the distance. Their field had expanded out, but become muted. They easily mingled with the weird energy around them, becoming one. Even Barricade’s. It made Prowl cringe. He stepped away from his brother and looked up, only to still. Barricade’s purple optics were faded, almost white. His whole frame slumped like a dumb Empty. He stared at Prowl- through Prowl- towards the rusted energon. 

“Cade?” Prowl hissed. He could barely hear his voice from his audials. The high pitch noise bled through his processor, making way for the creepy singing. The youngling put his servos over his audials, trying to block out the noise. He cried out, but the sound only mixed with the whispers and singing.

“Into the sea…”

The glyphs shook Prowl out of his misery. The fog seeped into his processor fading a moment. He looked out into the inky blackness, dread filling him. The physical fog draped certain spots of the black a dark gray. And through that grayness, he saw shapes emerge from the water. He dreaded to know what they exactly were .

“Hold you close to me…. (into the sea).”

“Slide neath the waves… (hold you close to me) [into the sea].”

“Down into the cave…(slide neath the waves) [hold you close to me].”

Whoever (plural) was singing had started a round. The voices harmonized. The energy in the air becomes more crazed and suffocating, sinking into Prowl’s spark. It drove the feeling to rip out his life source to be nigh impossible to ignore. 

“Kiss me love… (down into the cave) [slide neath the waves].”

“Come rest in my arms… (kiss me love) [down into the cave].”

“Dream your dreams with me… (come rest in my arms) [kiss me love].”

“Slide beneath the sea…(dream your dreams with me) [come rest in my arms].”

“Come to me my love… (slide beneath the sea) [dream your dreams with me].”

“Forget the land above… (come to me my love) [slide beneath the sea].”

“Into the sea…”

The round repeated a few times. Prowl felt the ship start to rock. Or maybe it was just him. He swayed, feeling like he could collapse. His tank churned and he felt the urge to purge. He dropped down to his knees with his arms hugging tight around his abdomen. He coughed and gagged, his spark itching. The sounds weren’t heard.

Movement caught his optics. He looked up in misery to see a mech start to walk toward the edge of the ship. His movements were jerky and stilted. Like a puppet with an inexperienced master. Or a mech trying to fight against slave coding.

“...(forget the land above) [come to me my love].”

“...[forget the land above].”

The round ended and everything went uncannily silent. Only a ringing white noise that kept the processors of the crew completely lax and pliant. Every once in a while, there’d be a splash too. Prowl held in his vents, his itchy spark rapidly spinning.

Then- with a crashing crescendo- the singing became again. The ooos and ahhhs rose, the lyrics rounding again but with more complex intervals, and in different languages. The amount of voices multiplied rapidly. They all blended together beautifully. Prowl couldn’t even make out a single glyph or voice, all melded together until they seemed to be one, breathing mesmerizing beast. 

Soft clanging of metal on metal got Prowl to look up. His vision was swimming, going back and forth. It made pain bloom through different parts of his processor. He watched that one crew member jerkily edge toward the side of the boat. He leaned over, further and further. Until he tips overboard.

Prowl could only stare at where the mech once was. No screaming arises. Only a sharp whistling sound before the crashing of waves.

The splashing didn’t stop. Hisses and shrieks echoed numbly, almost drowned out by the singing. Along with it came the sound of shredding plating, snapped lines, crushed commentents. A vocalizer shouted out- or tried to- but it only gurgled as the hisses, shrieks and… munching continued. 

In less than a breem, they went silent. Only the soothing, harmonized notes rang out. 

Prowl could feel himself trembling. His processor was heating up, and a warning showed up on his HUD. 

Slowly, the entranced crew members that stood motionless around Prowl move toward the edges of the ship. Their fields mute and plating slacked. They tumble over and splash into the energon. Prowl winced and tried not to look. He didn’t want to see that. 

Movement close by made Prowl look up. His brother was looking toward the energon with faded out purple optics.

He started to walk forward.

Chapter Text

“Barricade!” Prowl cried out, watching his brother stumble toward the ledge. The younger Praxian’s wail didn’t register to the elder.

But it did gain others’ attention.

Hisses and snarls sound over the throbbing song. Hushed whispers spoke in a maleficent glossa before going silent. The song rose in volume. 

Prowl scrambled toward his brother. He got in front of the dazed Praxian, bracing himself against Barricade to try and stop him. The taller slowed down but didn't seem deterred. Prowl cried out in desperation when Barricade jerkily scooted him out of the way.

“Barricade!” Prowl said again, frustration and hopelessness flaring in his field. He grabbed his brother’s servo, but Barricade easily tugged it free. Prowl felt himself start to tremble, the wild, conflicting emotions starting to rile up his glitch. He looked at his dazed out brother and suddenly got an idea.

Gathering himself, Prowl got up in Barricade’s face again, an itchy spark beating wildly. He stared Barricade in his white-purple optics before slapping him as hard as he could.

Prowl flinched, cringing away. He waited for retaliation but it didn't come. Onlining his optics, Prowl watched miserably as his brother continued forward. Most of the crew had already tumbled overboard. Prowl refused to register the awful sounds that followed the splashes. It was pretty easy with the droning, harmonious singing. 

“Into the sea.”

“Hold you close to me.”

“Slide neath the waves.”

“Down into the cave.”

“Kiss me love.”

“Come rest in my arms.”

“Dream your dreams with me.”

“Slide beneath the sea.”

“Come to me my love.”

“Forget the land above.”

Prowl shuddered, shaking his helm to try to get the lyrics out of his helm. There were so many different voices rounding each other that each lyric was sung at the same time. 

Movement caught his optics, shiny black against inky black. Prowl dreadfully looked only to see Barricade’s sensor wings limply dangling from his frame. Prowl stared a moment. A memory file was pulled up. One of the only memories Prowl has of his sire.

“If you ever find yourself in danger, Prowl, you need to know your assailant's weaknesses… in a fellow Praxian, a simple dislocation technique in the sensor wings can incapacitate them. All you have to do…”

Following the memory’s instructions, Prowl stalked up behind his brother. He grabbed hold of each sensor wing hinge. He toggled them a little and winced when they hardly moved. His sire whispered to him as he hardened his grip. He pushed until there was a dull thud before increasing the pressure on the top of the hinges while simultaneously pulling the bottom of the hinges out.

A harsh scraping sound emitted before a sickening snap. The wings went slack. Prowl barely had time to jerk back to keep them from hitting him in the face. Barricade’s vocalizer squealed reflexively before his biolights flashed and went dark. Prowl’s brother toppled down to the floor with a bang.

Prowl winced, his own sensor wings waving in sympathy before he shook himself off. He ran around Barricade’s limp form to grip his servos and heaved him back. He started the short yet time consuming trek toward the doors going down to the lower decks. In his brief, bare-strut tour of the ship, Prowl remembered Barricade talking about escape submersives. Memories of his carrier watching their races made Prowl confident they could zip out of here before the merformers could give chase. 

…at least, he hoped.

It’s our only hope. Prowl thought, determination coming across him. There was no way they could just stay on the boat. If legend remained true- and it had so far- they would end up sinking the ship. Besides, whatever was affecting the crew could start seeping into Prowl. And he really didn’t want to walk himself to his death. 

Pinging the doors to open, Prowl was alarmed when a blaring “access denied” answered him. Sputtering, Prowl took up Barricade’s servo and slapped it on the control panel. Panic rose up when the glyphs unauthorized personnel popped up.

“What? How?!” Prowl wailed, slamming his own fist on the panel. The same glyphs showed up. 

Inventing and ex-venting rapidly, Prowl was helpless as he watched warnings on his HUD pop up. He rubbed at his itchy spark and shook his helm. He had the urge to bash his fists against his helm until his processor restarted. Instead of doing that, Prowl looked down at his unconscious brother and tried to remain calm.

He didn’t know how he cooled down enough for most of the errors to go away, but Prowl gave his chassis plating a scratch before trying to think. He looked over the doors critically. They were too strong for him to try and pry open. Too reinforced for him to break them down…

Prowl wracked his memory files. Inspiration came from the spy movies his carrier used to watch along with the time where shanix got really tight and Barricade resorted to…

Snapping his helm over to his brother again, Prowl’s optics caught on Barricade’s limp servo. He picked it up gently, feeling for the subspace seam that held Barricade’s tool kit. Prowl’s wings flicked up when his servo entered and pulled out a thin black box. He slid it open to the different types of lock picks inside. 

Taking the tools out, Prowl went over to the panel and pried it open to show the inner wiring. Barricade had raided a energon dispenser when they ran out of creds to pay for fuel during the trials for Prowl’s custody. Barricade had shown Prowl how to hack the crude system. It was a fairly easy process- to Prowl, anyway- and he hoped that the control panel would be as easy to hack.

A cheery beep and the doors sliding open made Prowl whoop in joy. He slapped a servo over his intake when all the sounds started rushing back to him. He looked over the deck and found no crew members remaining. He cringed at the gruesome sounds that were drowned out by the singing before he started dragging Barricade inside. 

He cautiously slid/pushed Barricade down the steps when a huge groaning sound echoed around them. Prowl looked around in the darkness of the stairs. No porthole or window let him know what was going on outside. But when the ship leaned precariously to the side he knew the merformers had started sinking the ship.

I’ve got to move faster. Prowl thought. Silently apologizing to Barricade, he put his ped on his brother’s chassis before pushing him down the rest of the way. He winced as Barricade’s limp frame bounced and thudded on each step.

Scrambling after his brother, Prowl hastily dragged him down the maze of corridors where he thought the escape submersives were. 

Every sea-faring ship came with a few different types of evacuation systems. If the ship had sunk or was sinking, there’s lifeboats that are crude, yet efficient to depart from the doomed vessel. If there was more time or another reason to depart the vessel, submersives were the way to go. Their deployers were found on the lowest decks of the ship. 

Upon reaching said lowest decks, Prowl tried to ignore the energon that sloshed around at his peds. The energon wasn’t even a digit’s width high, but the fact it was there at all didn’t bode well. 

It was a relief when Prowl saw the sign with the glyph's submersive docks above the hall. He rushed around the bend- as much as he could dragging his brother- and stared a moment. Prowl couldn’t believe the sight before him.

The docks… were empty. No submersives were seen. Instead, the docks themselves were sealed so no atmosphere or liquid could leak through. Without the submersives, they looked like huge windows.

And showed what was going on outside. 

This part of the ship was completely submerged, so whatever was going on on the surface wasn’t really clear. But Prowl could make out tails. Dozens- maybe hundreds- of complex colored and patterned tails swirling around in the energon, constantly in motion. They bobbed along with the waves, their top halves above, singing their deadly song. 

Movement caught Prowl’s optic. He followed it even as his processor threatened to give under the shock. He felt his sensor wings droop as he saw some merformers circling the ship. Their shining optics and visors seemed to stare right at him. Prowl didn’t know if they could actually see within the ship or if they were sensing him another way. They couldn’t just be guessing he was there, not with how all of them stared at him. 

Their smooth motions were captivating. The up and down motions of their powerful tails settled something in Prowl. Their geometric, swirling designs of their plating was satisfying. Although Prowl’s itchy spark lurched, he felt his processor calm down as he tracked their predictable, gliding movements.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Prowl jolted, looking away from the empty docks and down the corridor. Hope flared when he saw the lights of one submersive still in its dock, but it dropped when he saw the Captain standing next to it.

The bulky mech wasn’t facing the dock, however. Instead, he looked out the empty docks at the merformers circling. When the merformers met the Captain’s gaze, their animosity seemed to grow. They hissed and snarled but seemed to keep a safe distance away.

That was until one rammed straight into the closest empty dock to the Captain. It took Prowl a moment to recognize the mer they had spotted from the beginning. Blue visor glowed bright in the murky energon along with the glimmering blue accents in his swirling paint. Sharp denta glinted as he snarled murderously at the Captain. The mer banged his fist on the thick glass and hissed.

It only made the Captain laugh. “And vicious.”

“You…” Prowl started, tilting his helm at the Captain’s calm form. “...knew about them.”

“Of course,” the Captain said, turning sideways to look Prowl over. “I was a part of the crew that captured these beasts.”

“...captured?” Prowl said slowly, looking out at where the merformers swam in the open sea.

The look and query made the Captain bark out another laugh, this one more boisterous and loud. “You can cage any creature, if you put your processor to it. Some inferior mecha might think imprisoning animals means taking them out of their environment and putting up shields or bars around them to keep them contained, weak.”

The Captain gave Prowl a smirk. “They are only partially true.

“You see,” the Captain continued, stepping up to the window to stare up at the mer glaring back at him. “Many thought merformers were a myth. Even if mecha truly believed in them, they had no evidence. Besides the corrupted files of the unfortunate survivors they had lured in.

“That was until about a centi-vorn ago when an amateur crew captured one and brought it on land to study. Caged in a tank not even the size of a submersive-”  the Captain gestured to the escape pod next to him. Prowl’s optics flickered to it, desperate hunger flared in his gaze. 

“-It wasn’t a surprise when the beast offlined in captivity. They are meant to roam, not be bound as that one had.” The Captain continued. 

“For a while, it was debated on what we should do. It wasn’t every cycle a myth became fact. Fiction, nonfiction. Especially when this fantasy seemed to crave the protoform of good, Cybertronian citizens. It seemed logical to snuff them out, but they have eluded us for this long; they were bound to do so for generations to come. Actively hunting them would lead to more deaths.

“That is when a plan was developed. What was that saying?” The Captain pondered. “If you snuff can’t them, control them?”

Prowl’s sensor wings twitched. That wasn’t a saying.

The Captain turned back to Prowl with a dangerous glint in his optics. “I am proud to say I helped capture this pod of merformers. We stalked them for vorns, trying to understand their ways. Once enough information was gathered, we set our trap.

“It’s noticeable to ships passing through, but there’s actually a plasma barrier shielding this area of ocean about say 130 nauticals squared. We made sure that anything underneath couldn’t get in or out. They hunted everything inside their ‘enclosure’ until it was barren. Then we left them to starve.”

The Captain looked back at Prowl who was trying really hard to come up with the ending but no matter what, just couldn’t .

“You see, sparkling, the ones that come up with solutions to the problems that plague Cybertron hold power. Positions of power come with threats. Threats that need to be pacified… or disappeared.”

Turning back to the circling merformers- and the one still glaring steadfast at the elder Cybertronian- the Captain smiled. “These beasts were seen as the perfect tool for doing such a task.”

“So… problems… ‘threats’... become their meal.” Prowl said, slowly mulling the horrifying discovery over in his processor.

The Captain’s smile turned into a grin. “They are very eager on their part, especially around the breeding season.” The Captain nods at the blue visor glaring. “That one’s young, probably around your age, honestly. His first mating season is coming up. I’d say if you two were the same species, you’d have excellent offspring.”

Prowl shivered in disgust, horror. His processor almost crashed just at the mere statement. He shook as he tried to hold himself together. 

You can’t crash. Or you’ll die. Barricade will die . With those thoughts in his helm, Prowl shoves the memories into a hasty file to look over later, preferably in recharge where he couldn’t crash. 

The merformer’s attention went from the Captain to Prowl. The snarl he wore disappeared and the glare softened. The look he gave Prowl was intense. He just… stared. Tension riddled his frame as he looked over the youngling. That eerie glowing visor unsettled Prowl, making his spark itch even more. Before Prowl could really guess what it meant, the mer opened his mouth and a high pitch scream emitted throughout the ship. Barricade gave a twitch behind Prowl. The youngling’s attention turned to him, wondering if he’d have to incapacitate him again.

“Oh, give it a rest.” The Captain said to the mer. The blue visor went back to glaring. “Your song doesn’t affect anyone still living. Er,” the Captain turned to sneer at Barricade’s limp form, “any mech conscious , anyway.”

“Why doesn’t it?” Prowl couldn’t help but ask. It drawed the Captain and the mer's attention back to him. “Their song,” he clarified, “why did it affect all the crew and not…”

And not me. The last glyphs went unsaid as Prowl stared at the Captain.

And not you.

“Well,” the Captain said, standing up straight. A smugness entered his field, just brushing against Prowl’s. “Can’t be falling for your own trap, now can you? Those techies who studied that first mer went in and dissected it’s vocalizer. They found out exactly how they were controlling us.

“I’m not a medic or anything like the such. But apparently it's some sort of programming. Except instead of plugging or hacking into the processor with a cable, these mecha are able to do it with their voices. Their song inputs the commands while the audials link those commands to our processors.”

The Captain shrugged. “Or something like that. It’s mostly just theory right now. Studies still need to be made. However, we have found a way to shut it out.” The Captain nodded to the mer still glaring. “We were able to retrofit a virus that only allows this pod to affect certain mecha. Specifically mecha who have certain coding put in place.”

Prowl felt himself stiffen before he gasped as a memory file popped up.

The Captain glared Barricade down, there was a heavy weight in his optics. “You give him the coding for the ship?”

Barricade winced, wings dipping for a moment. “Uh, no, sir. I didn’t think they were transferable.”

“The codes for the Dystopia .” Prowl heard himself mumble. 

The Captain gave the youngling a sharp smile. “Ya’ got a sharp processor on ya’, too bad it’ll go to waste.”

Prowl snapped out of his daze, glaring at the Captain. “You sent us all here to die!” He screamed in outrage, sensor wings flaring out.

All the Captain did was shrug. “I warned Barricade to keep you home.”

Prowl continued to glare, servos jerkily tightening into fist.

I will not crash. I will not crash. I will not crash.

A subsonic rumble shuddered through Prowl’s frame. He turned to see the mer had swam away from the Captain to float near Prowl. Prowl warily watched, feeling his frame twitch against his will as he tried to stop his processor from shutting down.

The mer stared down Prowl fiercely but without the malice he showed the Captain. Prowl heard vibrations suddenly, but the mer didn’t open his mouth. It took Prowl a moment to realize he was humming. The sound was deep and soothing. Prowl couldn’t help but relax. His wings dipped and floated with the sweet melody. 

Prowl felt his servo reach up towards his itchy spark, which… didn’t itch as much as he listened to the mer. The blue visor mer tilted his helm and stared at Prowl’s servo over his chassis plating before copying the motions. They stayed like that for a moment. Each with a servo over their chassis. The mer brought his other servo- which Prowl realized was webbed- to press against the thick glass separating them. 

Then the mer’s visor flashed. With a hiss, he flared his webbed servos, unsheathing dagger-life claws. The mer dragged a clawed servo against the glass, just barely scratching it. The servo on his chassis made a fist, like he was going to take hold of Prowl’s spark and squash it.

Prowl snapped his helm away then. He became thankful too, as he saw the Captain getting the submersive ready to deploy.

He stepped forward, wings flaring out again, opening his intake to… what? Scream? Shout? Curse? Beg? None of it would change the Captain’s mind. 

Opticking the submersive, Prowl tried to calculate the best option. It was the only escape out of this bad recharge flux. It would be able to fit the Captain’s stout but bulky stature, but not much else.

Not like the Captain cared. Even if there was room, he’d just leave without Prowl and Barricade.

So it came down to two options. 

The Captain.

Or the two Praxians.

“I thought captain’s went down with their ships.” Prowl said, trying to stall. He looked around for something to distract/stop/incapacitate/snuff(?)/ anything the Captain.

“Heh, this isn’t my ship. It’s Wild Claw’s, and he can happily go down with it.” The Captain grumbled. It brought up the argument the Captain and Wild Claw had when Prowl first met them. 

A flash of Wild Claw’s vibrant, shiny red paint entered Prowl’s processor before it transitioned to the abandoned deck. He grimaced.

Worry about that later, focus. 

“I have an actual ship, and a decent crew to go with it.” The Captain continued, typing on the dock’s control panel just outside the submersive. Prowl needed to get him away from it. “Not this wreck and it’s Rejet Hull. Usually these pets are used on Praxus’ Council’s most hated enemies- sometimes each other. Ha!”

The Captain turned his stare to sneer at Prowl. “But you and your brother are the lucky first civilians to be a part of this specter. Cybertron’s getting overcrowded. The Council decided that the unnecessaries and glitches needed to be rooted out.”

“We aren’t unnecessary. Barricade’s not glitched.” Prowl bit out, feeling himself tremble. Out of the corner of his optics, he caught movement but refused to look. Instead he glanced down and froze. 

Just behind Barricade’s toppled frame was a toolbox. Prowl has no idea where it came from, but it was open with different tools scattered inside. None of the tools caught his attention, they were too small to use. 

The pry bar leaning against the toolbox did though.

“Oh, but you are, aren’t you.” The Captain said with a smirk. It stayed in place as he glanced back at the control panel. Prowl forced himself not to freeze up at the glyphs and crept over to the makeshift weapon. “Yeah, pretty easy to figure out. All the symptoms are there. Barricade thought he was slick sneaking you on board. Really, he’s just doing the Council a favor.”

Prowl stilled, servos wrapped around the cool metal bar. Warnings blared across his HUD and he felt himself precariously wobble. He tried to keep his vents even, turning desperately to his brother’s limp frame. 

Prowlie, Barricade’s voice whispered in his audial. Prowl remembered intense purple optics staring him down. It had been from a time when Barricade had left Prowl to fend for himself- somewhat, reluctantly- in a school of circling bullies. If anyone ever tells you anything that makes you feel lesser, unworthy of that fierce spark that spins inside you. Barricade had given a mean grin then. Show them exactly why you should be here.

Because no one can make you feel inferior without your consent, Prowlie. Dislocate their wings if you have to. They’ll end up showing you why they’re not worth you time.

Standing and turning to face the Captain, Prowl didn’t think as raised the crow bar up and ran toward the Captain with a battle cry. 

Chapter Text

Prowl didn’t think as he ran toward the Captain with the raised crowbar. Although he knew it was insufficient, he closed his optics as he got close enough before wacking the Captain hard on his black plating. The jolting sound of metal on metal rang through the air a moment before fading to silence.

“You’re joking, right?” The Captain deadpanned, looking down with a brow raised at the stupid youngling.

Squinting his optics open, Prowl glared up at the Captain. “Between definitely dying and maybe dying, I’m choosing maybe dying.”

The Captain scoffed before throwing his arm out. Prowl cried out as he went flying across the docking hall. An “oof” left his intake when his sensor wings collided on the other side. Fortunately, he had flattened them before he could be paralyzed in the pain of jamming his sensor wings against the wall. Prowl rubbed his helm as a sonic shriek erupted around them.

“Don’t embarrass yourself, kid.” The Captain said next to the remaining submersive. The doors to the escape vessel opened. “Better accept your fate and spend the next few breems you can with your brother. Not everyone’s as lucky to have their family present when they die.”

The Captain started to climb in even as Prowl scrambled to get up. The youngling knew as he got to his peds he wouldn’t be able to stop the Captain. His determination precipitated and panic set in as half the Captain’s frame disappeared into the submersive. He’d failed. Barricade and him would drown while carnivorous monsters ate them limb for limb. They’d never get to start their lives over. Instead going to the Well with their crea-

A violent thunk echoed around them with another ominous groan. A dull shrieking sound came before the vessel tipped over precariously. Prowl screamed as the ship’s angle changed but gravity’s pull remained the same. He fell back- granted, not very far- onto the empty dock window as the Dystopia slowly sank onto its side.

“Those damned mers-” The Captain started cursing before he cut himself off to swear even louder as he too fell back. Prowl looked up at the noise just in time to gasp and lunge out of the way as the Captain smashed into the window Prowl had just been laying into. 

Groaning, Prowl forced himself to get up. The varying abrupt directions made his processor swim dizzily. He shook his sensor wings out a little before flaring them. Something nudged at his ped, and Prowl whirled around to see Barricade’s form stirring beside him.

Prowl worried Barricade would wake and… Prowl wasn’t sure what his brother would do. The singing was muffled within the depths of the ship. Prowl could still feel the vibrations through his sensor wings, but his audials weren’t picking up anything. He wasn’t sure if the coding trance would activate only when audials tuned into the noise or if sensor wings counted too. 

The youngling was interrupted from his musings by a trickling sound. He whipped his helm around to see the infected energon gushing in around the Captain’s groaning frame. Cracks from the Captain’s collapse had formed, allowing the ship to sink even faster. Energon leaked from the side-now ceiling of the ship.

Feeling panic trying to creep in, Prowl tried to section off his emotional protocols so his glitch wouldn’t activate. He hefted up Barricade’s upper body into his arms. He looked up, wings drooping, when he realized the submersive was now facing up. There was no way Prowl could climb up to it without leaving Barricade behind. And Prowl would rather be ripped apart with his brother than leave safely without him.

Looking down at the energon down up to his waist when he sat, Prowl got an idea. It was desperate, but allowing the water to rise and swim up to the pod seemed to be his only option.

A sharp curse came from the Captain as he tried to sit up. Prowl’s attention snapped toward him. As long as the Captain didn’t interfere, Prowl thought his plan actually had a chance of working, but he doubted the Captain wouldn’t try anything.

So he’d have to incapacitated him. 

Prowl felt a dangerous stillness settle over him. He stared intently at the Captain’s scrambling frame before looking down at the crowbar in his grip.

It’s too dull. Prowl thought before turning to Barricade. He felt along Barricade’s side until he felt the subspace seam there. He’s seen Barricade pull out a knife from that compartment before…

Prowl’s servo gripped the handle of something, he pulled it out and smiled when a curved blade gleamed in the dimming lights of the Dystopia . 

Turning back around, Prowl tried not to splash too much as he rose to his peds and walked over to the Captain. He might have outclassed Prowl with his bulk and strength, but the obtuse armor became his downfall when trying to get back up. 

The servo holding the dagger shook as Prowl made his way over to the Captain. He looked over the frame, trying to figure out what to target. Limbs were a no go. For one, they were flailing. Prowl wasn’t going to waste time pinning one down while the others attacked him. The Captain- if desperate enough (and he seemed desperate enough) could rip the appendage off to get to the submersive first. Prowl could only then hope the fragger bled out before repairs could be made. 

So he had to target something vital. The blade was only so long, however. So he’d also have to mark something that could go through it and stick into the floor.

Prowl froze, dread and anticipation filling his spark as he stared at the perfect place to stab the blade. However, it would be easy for him to get caught…

Letting instinctive programming take over, Prowl set down the crowbar in the crook of Barricade’s neck so it wouldn’t float away in the dense energon. He then silently made his was over to the Captain, his optics never leaving his mark.

His sensor wings layed down to make himself appear smaller and nonthreatening. Prowl crept closer, staying in the Captain’s blindspot. When Prowl was only a helm away, the Captain suddenly lunged upward, trying to find his balance. He came back down with a crashing curse, squirming.

That was when Prowl striked.

Bringing the blade up with both servos clasping the handle, he brought it down with all his might. The Captain’s helm just thumped against the floor. His optics widened at the sight of the curved blade coming toward them before his left optics went offline with a sharp pain.

The Captain roared out in rage and pain. Prowl hastily backed away as the bulky arms took a swipe at him.

“Glitched youngling! I’ll kill you myself!” The Captain griped. He tried getting up, but it just made the blade cut more vital systems in his processor. “You’ll wish the mers got to you first. Get over here!”

Prowl cried out when a servo thumped into his side, but it only sent him flying back toward his brother. The energon was up to his chest now when he was sitting. Barricade’s form was almost submerged now where he was crumbled on the floor. Prowl lifted him up, making sure his vents were free. Cybertronians could live without them bringing in atmosphere to keep their temperatures stable. However, Barricade couldn’t control his vents now, so Prowl made sure they were free.

“Bratling!” The Captain raged, somewhat gurgled by the energon flooding his airways. “Get back hebrebre…” The Captain was completely submerged now. He started pulling at the hilt of the blade sunk into his helm. By his muffled, enraged howls from under the energon, Prowl didn’t think he was working in his favor.

Prowl turned his attention to staying alive. He was thankful that the energon was so dense even the hardiest protoform could float as long as the armor was puffed out the right way. Prowl relaxed his plating, stretching it out to capacity. Barricade was limp enough he floated right along with Prowl as the youngling kept his brother’s helm vents above the energon.

A few breems went by just floating. It was nerve wracking, the anticipation making Prowl jittery. He clutched the crowbar in one servo, needing something to fidget with. Survival protocols were in place right now, but once he was back to natural settings he knew he’d have the crash of his lifetime. It seemed worth it, especially with each klik they become closer and closer to the submersive.

Almost there. Prowl thought. Keeping one servo under Barricade, he reached his arm up to grab at a ledge to pull them up to the opened hatch. He was only a few units away. Just… outta… reach…

Shrieking metal echoed around the shrinking atmosphere. Prowl jumped, splashing around. He turns around to see a huge tear open up, allowing more rushing energon in. His frame freezed up when he saw fins cutting through the surface before diving below.

Nononono. 

Prowl dragged Barricade closer, wanting to get his unconscious brother safely in the sub. He heaves him up, but even with the added water lifting them up, Prowl still isn’t near the top enough. 

“Sub?” Prowl called out, wondering if an AI powered it. “Computer, respond.”

“Yes, Captain.” An automated femme voice said back from inside the submersive. Prowl wanted to faint in relief.

“Activate gravity generators.” Prowl ordered. A klik later, Prowl feels the pull of the sub’s gravity against his sensor wings. He lifts Barricade up, his brother’s weight submerging him even more. Prowl refused to focus on the muffled noises coming from below. “Bring gravitational pull 20% higher than standard setting.”

“Acknowledged.” The voice said. 

In the next klik, Prowl felt Barricade’s weight get lighter as the sub started pulling him into it. Prowl cried out in joy before wincing when Barricade suddenly slammed up to have his faceplates squashed on the floor of the sub. A groan escaped him and he started stirring again.

Better hurt than dead . Prowl thought. The energon level was high enough now that he could pull himself up, the sub’s gravity helping him. His spark- spinning wildly and even more itchy- dropped when he felt something grab ahold of his ped.

“Augh!” Prowl looked down and froze when his optics met a glowing blue visor. Swirling, symbolic black and white plating against clean cut lines of white and black.

The mer- the one that started this terrifying mess- opened his mouth. Prowl didn’t give him a chance to sing or shriek or whatever other noise he could make before he slammed his crowbar down. He smacked the mer in the center of his helm, cracking his visor. 

He cried out, webbed servos coming up to defend the wounded spot. Prowl didn’t wait, scambering into the pod. The gravitational pull righted him, making his gyros spin. He let it, walking forward with sensor wings fanned out.

“Close the hatch and get us out of here!” Prowl cried out. The AI didn’t talk, but the doors slammed shut just as the agitated mer leapt forward, blocking off the carnage of the Captain getting eaten alive by three other mers. 

The thrusters turned on and Prowl could only scream when the pod suddenly launched. Barricade and him tumbled about the small cabin as the pod shot off, straight out of the water! 

Prowl’s screaming got louder as he watched the pod breach the surface where all the other mers were swimming around. Almost immediately, warnings popped up on the console piloting the submersive. It wasn’t made for atmospheric conditions. Just when Prowl wondered if it would explode, the sub crashed back down under the rusted energon, zooming away jerkily.

Barricade and Prowl slammed back down to the floor. Prowl groaned, telling the AI to decrease the gravity back down to standard settings before climbing off of his brother. He shifted around so he was in the sub’s only chair and watched the energon rush by them.

There really isn’t anything else out here. Prowl thought as endless blue went by. He felt bad for the mers, even though they had been trying to eat him. They were just trying to survive. Who knew when the Praxian Council decided to use their carnivorous tendencies on oblivious mecha. 

Prowl rubbed at his chassis, seriously wanting to rip it off and shred his spark. It was more noticeable with him out of danger. He pulled his legs up, huddling in on himself while he tried to stay focused and not crash.

He was doing pretty poorly when another alarm blared. Prowl looked up. It was a proximity alarm. He was confused at first. Then a little screen popped up on the console. His jaw dropped when he saw the blue visor mer swimming at terrifying speeds trying to catch up.

“Sub? Is there any way you can go faster?” Prowl asked, shrinking into the seat like the mer could see him if he didn’t.

“Inhabitants would have to go into emergency stasis lock.” The automotive voice said. “Would you like to initiate?”

Prowl just shook his helm, huddling in on himself even more. His optics stayed locked onto the screen. “No, thank you.”

The sub kept flying through the water, but the mer was gaining. Prowl had no idea how he was able to keep up with a machine when all he seemed to have was a tail. Prowl’s spark seemed to be close to a spark attack as the mer kept gaining. 

Bright light made his attention turn forward, making Prowl stiffen.

I forgot about the plasma shield. The youngling thought, watching the gold light get closer. 

‘We made sure that anything underneath couldn’t get in or out.’

“Sub?” Prowl said shakily. “There’s a plasma shield ahead.”

“Aware, Captain. Shifting device on board capable of going through-”

A sonic shriek echoed the submersive. Prowl cried out with it, covering his audials and pinning his sensor wings to his back. That was loud. And it hurt. 

The sub seemed to think so too. The lights flickered for a moment. Prowl was worried it was going offline, but the gold plasma shield was suddenly there. Before Prowl could properly react, they were phasing through it and out to open sea.

It took Prowl a moment to move from his spot. He couldn’t until the proximity alarm went off and the footage of the mer left. He shook himself off, glancing back at Barricade to make sure he was okay. Beside a few dings, his brother lived.

Prowl vented, a servo coming up to his spark subconsciously. He tried to ignore any throbbing pulses as he looked over the sub’s controls. It seemed there were controls preprogrammed into the sub. Prowl didn’t know where it was going, and it didn’t want to worry about it right now. Even if he did, he couldn’t.

He vented deeply, but the shakes were already out of his control. Warnings on his HUD started taking over his vision. He felt his processor overheating. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Barricade groaned, bringing his servo up and rubbing at his helm. His chevron was dented on the left side, and he winced as the sensitive appendage’s nerve wiring pounded at his processor.

His optics flickered on weakly, he had to reboot them a few times before they blazed to life fully. Looking around, he saw he was in a dark, cramped space.

What happened? He wondered. He looked at his chronometer and balked when he realized many joors had passed since he last remembered. He opened his memory files and found most were corrupted. Barricade remembered climbing up into the crow’s nest and then…

Nothing. 

A familiar whine got Barricade shooting into a sitting position. He looked around for Prowl, surprised to find himself in one of the escape submersives. The surprise quickly turned to horror and dread.

“Prowl!” Barricade exclaimed, getting up. There was a little space behind the chair of the submersive. Barricade found himself knocking into things in his hurry and cursed. He gripped the back of the chair tightly, helm spinning. He ignored it as he turned the chair around to see Prowl’s limp form curled in it.

“Prowl!” Barricade said again, crouching down and meshing his EMF with his brother’s weak one. His servo came up to reassure Prowl and he immediately hissed, feeling the youngling’s frame badly overheating as he started to crash. “You’re okay, Prowlie. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Bar–zzzcchh-i-zzzzchk-cade?” Prowl got out. His helm tilted down to thunk against Barricade’s shoulder. “I’m… zzzch… glitching.”

“I know, kiddo.” Barricade said helplessly. He cupped positioned Prowl's helm so he could get at his port. He reeled out a specialized cable and plugged it into Prowl’s array. Barricade then started up his coolant lines, redirecting it to the med cable feeding into his brother. “I know this has to suck, Prowlie. But I’m going to get you through this. We’ll get you to a medic and fix you up good as new.”

Prowl wasn’t able to get any glyphs out. He merely whined and slumped against Barricade. The older Praxian could only curl around him in worry. He looked around the little sub and out into the endless sea, queries piling up on top of each other. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Prowl didn’t know where the sub took them. Barricade wouldn’t tell him what happened. He woke up in a med center. One of Praxus’ best, meant for the Praxus Elite. 

He hated med centers. The medics were always poking around, trying to ‘fix’ his glitch. He could feel the edits made the moment he onlined. 

He was quickly discharged, however, to his surprise. As Barricade led him from the hospital, Prowl worried what they were going to do. They had no home. The Dystopia had been their only shelter. Barricade said that the money from the job would have paid for their next housing, but the job had been set up…

The youngling was thoroughly surprised when Barricade led them to a tower . That’s where nobles lived! Sure, this was probably the tiniest tower he’s ever seen, barely had a dozen floors, but still! Prowl could only gawk as Barricade got them in and to a suite - completely furnished and stocked with energon, declaring it was theirs.

“How?” Prowl demanded, whirling around and glaring at his brother. “We went from living on the streets to nobles?”

“ Almost living on the streets.” Barricade corrected before shrugging. “And I just cashed in some favors, is all.”

“That’s it?” Prowl stated in disbelief. “That’s illogical. It doesn’t make any sense. I demand you-”

“Prowlie.” Barricade said gently, coming over and placing his servos on Prowl’s shoulder pauldrons. Prowl balked at the tired weight of Barricade’s field. “You just recovered from one of the biggest crashes ever recorded. I need you to calm down.”

Prowl stilled. “I didn’t think it was that bad.” He said quietly.

“Well, it was.” Barricade admitted. “The medics didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Silence. “Oh.”

Barricade ex-vented before kneeling to meet Prowl’s gaze. “Don’t worry, okay? I got this. We’re safe, the nightmare’s over.” Barricade paused, looking Prowl over.

Prowl looked away, shaking his helm. Barricade was never able to recover his memory files. When he asked Prowl about it, the youngling had clammed up, not wanting to talk about it. Even when that weird therapist came in to talk with him, Prowl lied and said he also couldn’t remember.

He wished he couldn’t.

“From now on, we’ll be taken care of.” Barricade said, squeezing Prowl gently. “We don’t have to worry about shanix, energon, housing… nothing.”

Barricade got up, nudging Prowl one more time before going deeper into the suite.

“We’re home.”

For some reason, Prowl’s spark flared at the glyphs. He let into the urge to scratch his chassis. His spark still itched.

A blue visor flashed across Prowl’s visor, jolting him out of his daze. He looked around at the foreign, luxurious walls and furniture. He felt unsettled. 

This was nowhere near home.

Chapter Text

Stupid! Fragging! Light! Shield! I! Will! KILL! You! And! Then! Snuff! All! Of! Your! Brethren! You! Stupid-

With each angry glyph entering Jazz’s processor, he struck the barrier allowing his resonance to get further and further away. His spark screamed after them, but his perfect match did not return.

I! Swear! Upon! The! Ancestors! Your! Cycles! Are! NUMBERED! Jazz cursed. He clawed at the golden light that was somehow like an unmovable seawall. Any pain didn’t register in Jazz’s processor, his spark already pinched. 

Soon glyphs became unintelligible to him. He hissed and growled, wanting out . He needed to get out, away from the waste land and out to the open sea. He needed to follow the tugging and pulsing of his spark. Toward the symmetrical white and black with angelic wings. They wavered and flapped with each of his mate’s drastic emotions. It was a language in itself, Jazz knew, and he craved to understand it.

And he’d never be able to if he didn’t get out! 

Two EMFs flared behind him, trying to mesh with his own. It only made Jazz more erratic because it wasn’t his mates , his resonance . He didn’t want them but him .

So he needed to get o-

“Jazzmeister!” Carrier said sternly, using his full honor-glyph designation. Jazz has only been called it a few times, and it always locked him up scared. Carrier’s wrath was something to cower to.

Except not anymore. Jazz couldn’t make himself be afraid. 

Firm servos suddenly gripped his arms, pulling him away from the barrier- away from his mate. He shrieked, allowing his sonic voice to rein free. His audial horns picked up curses under the strong vibrations. 

Every pod he knew of had a culture center around their voices. Whether they sang like crystal chimes or twined together glyphs in a thrilling tale or breathed life into an instrument. Voices were power (power that attracted the cursed land mecha [one of which was now kin]). 

From the moment he was transferred from his carrier’s spark chamber to his sentio metallico forged frame, Jazz had been special. A sparked sonic, his life forcing reshaping his frame to allow him to go further than any of his pod. He was able to hear and sing songs that didn’t exist to them. 

He became sacred before he even left Carrier’s spark chamber when the huge spark split in two, creating him and his split spark twin. The whole pod had come together to create the two unique frames. They became the creations of everyone in that cycle. 

Jazz remembered migrating across the sea, the whole energon surrounding them their home. He remembered learning to sing with Ricochet, making songs together. They had no permanent home, but having each other made up for it. 

Until the surface dwellers came. Their floating machines looming above. Nets and spears stabbing. The pod’s songs did not get any response as golden light burst all around them. As soon as the attack started, they left. 

It turned out to be a weird and precautionary tale. Or seemed. 

It soon became clear drastic changes were coming their way when the golden light couldn’t be swam through.

They boxed the pod in from every angle. It wasn’t like the whispered cages and enclosures other mers rumored about. When next to one golden light wall, he couldn’t see the other side. 

But it became a cage no less. Nothing got in or out. And soon they hunted all the food they could.

They thought they’d starve. The occasional floating machine coming over them, mocking from their vessels.

Jazz soon learned to hate them. Even when he himself had never seen a land mech.

That changed when- out of nowhere- one of their ships changed, and dumped over a dozen, floundering land mecha with two legs into the energon with them.

Starved- and seeing a proper meal source- Jazz’s pod didn’t hesitate to attack. They tore through the fearful land mech. Jazz remembered revenge singing through his bond with Ricochet. They grabbed hold of the nearest kicking land mech and tore in. It had been satisfying to offline the spark within. To pry their flimsy armor off, tear through protoform, rip apart fuel lines, and shatter delicate components. 

In the end, there was enough leftover land mecha to feed them for a stellar cycle. Then the fueling became scarce again before another ship came. It floated there for some time. So much so that Carrier had gone up to investigate. He sang, and the mecha on board had responded!

The meals came somewhat regularly after that. Not enough to keep them healthy. They went through periods where their protoforms turned thin and gaunt, armor threatening to rust. It just made them more vicious. Jazz grew more and more vengeful. He ripped through the land mecha zealously. Just so they’d get to feel a sliver of what pain Jazz and his pod had gone through.

All that changed when he saw him . The angelic winged mecha. Jazz had eaten mecha with wings before. Some had big wings that helped them fly (not like that helped them when the pod got hold of them) while others were smaller. They seemed to act like sensing fins that Jazz had seen on other merformers. Those types were his favorite. Mecha reacted so strongly when Jazz manipulated them.

And tore them off.

But this small winged mech was different. He was beautiful in a simple way. Clean cut lines of black and white, so foreign to the swirling designs seen in the pod. The minute movements of those wings caught Jazz’s optic every time. Then there was that shiny red arrow atop the mech’s helm, drawing attention.

All that was taken in the background of Jazz’s processor as his spark got a sharp tug, itching to get closer . Following the pull, Jazz got a tiniest glimpse of the most beautiful spark he’s ever seen.

His resonance. 

Who was now getting away!

“Cease!” Carrier roared, the fog in Jazz’s processor finally clearing enough to hear. He was fighting his carrier, clawing against the servos restraining him. His tail flared around, trying to whack something. But Carrier easily dodged. Little by little, he got Jazz under control until he had the youngling’s servos pinned behind his back, waiting out his flailing.

“Let go!” Jazz screamed, vocalizer becoming glitchy from his screeches. Powerful and destructive. Anyone else foolish enough to tackle Jazz would have gone deaf, but of course Carrier could handle him. “I need to… I need to…”

“Calm down.” Carrier said sternly before sighing. “Bitlet.” The stern left his voice, becoming a soothing croon.

The fight left Jazz then, he went limp in his carrier’s hold. He keened, sluggishly looking up to the golden light. Any sign of his mate was long gone. 

Another sigh left Carrier. He looked over at his second creation. Ricochet worriedly hovered, never seeing his twin act so out of control before.

Nodding to Ricochet, Punch clicked at him to follow. He looked down at Jazz, feeling sorrow for the youngling. He kept Jazz’s servos pinned behind his back before tugging him along. Experience has taught him to not be fooled by Jazz’s cooperation.

The trio hastily passed other pod members who were doing their best to ignore them. A couple were crudely hacking up what was left of their meal. Punch winced at what was left of the crew. They had not been the enemy, but desperation and starvation led to their pod having no choice but to feed.

The rest were dismantling the ship. Punch hummed when he saw a mech bring out what was left of the leader. The pod’s main huntsmech remembered him from the cycle they’d been captured. The mech kept reappearing with the next meal, but the damned beast always got away. It was satisfying when the mech carrying the remains held up the empty spark chamber to be seen clearer.

Swiftly, Punch got his younglings to their temporary home. He kept calling it temporary, even if a deca-vorn has almost passed by now. He refused to accept that they’d all die here. His creations- at least- would once more live with only the shores enclosing them. 

Over the vorns, many ships had been sunk. Their remains had provided shelter for the pod. Most of their enclosure consisted of just… energon. The bottom held a barren and deactivated crystal reef. Each cycle the shards became more brittle. One strong current would destroy the remains. Around the once great crystal reef were a few mineral structures, none of which were grand enough to carve out caves.

That’s where the ships came in. At first, the pod had tried to preserve the grand vessels and live in the sunken remnants. They soon found just stripping the ships and rebuilding them to make caves worked out better. 

Punch had made his cave toward the center of the pod’s homes and around the deactivated crystal reef. He built in three different escape routes with two offshoots to give his creations space. They ended up recharging with each other regardless, the remaining offshoot usually used for leftovers- er,  storage.

He made sure to grind down the minerals to make the softest and findest sand to allow his creations a safe haven to bury into. There were many different ways to settle down into recharge. Punch found his twins loved the sand the most. He also used rope from the sunken vessels to make nets. Although foreign, he found Jazz especially liked to swing in them, especially when currents went through their makeshift home.

However, the most preferred method of sleeping was in a pile with their creator. And Punch was loath to ever say no. There should have been five in the pile adding their warmth and comfort to their twins, except…

Punch grunted, shaking away bad memory files. His mates were gone, one with the Allspark. He had to remain behind.

For Jazz and Ricochet.

And right now, they needed him.

Entering the cave, Punch immediately went to the twins’ offshoot. Ricochet swam ahead, burying himself in the sand, engine purring. Punch regarded the remaining twin where he was still pinned. Jazz remained limp and almost lifeless. Punch might have thought he deactivated if he still didn’t have his monotone colors. He winced when he saw the dents and scraps marring his creation, plus the crack running through his visor.

“Take your brother, Rico.” Punch said. The two got Jazz situated in the sand, Ricochet clinging to his form. Jazz finally came back to life, snuggling into his twin. “I’ll be right back.”

Their creator left them in the little alcove. Jazz could feel Ricochet poke at their bond. Jazz found it irritating, then annoying, before he couldn’t take it anymore and zinged him over the bond.

“Quit it.” He grumbled, squeezing his twin and wrapping their tails together even more. The sand satisfyingly shifted around him. “It already itches.”

“It’s weird.” Rico responded. “Like… I can tell there’s something on the other side. Like our bond to carrier, but… if I also didn’t have a bond with him.”

“Yeah? Well, try actually having it be connected.” Jazz snarled. “It’s incomplete . I need to merge with him, but he…”

Left. He’s gone. And Jazz wasn’t sure if... when he’d be back.

Looking back, Jazz cursed himself. His resonance had been right in front of him . Just one stroke away from being Jazz’s forever. They had been in the flooded ship together. Jazz could still taste his mate’s fear. He wanted to snatch up the clean black and white and hole the mech forever. Safe and sound in his arms.

Instead, Jazz had been foolish. He was a warrior, he should have been prepared for his mate striking out. It was proper protocol even. Jazz had to be worthy of his mate.

But once more Jazz messed up. He might be a split spark twin and a spark sonic, but that didn’t mean he was perfect. He was constantly bickering and brawling with Ricochet. He’d mess up songs, making the notes pitch too high or fall flat. Now he failed to capture his resonance. He’d shown he was unworthy. And now those angelic wings were-

“Shhh, Bitlet, let it go.” Carrier’s voice soothed. The larger frame pressed against his back, arms curling around him and Ricochet. “Everything will work out. You’re alright.”

Jazz’s vocalizer glitched along with his vision. Carrier gently tapped the cracked visor, and Jazz detached it from his face plates. Carrier tucked it away into his subspace to fix later. Jazz’s pale optics- blind to the world- stared into Ricochet’s hidden ones. The burnt orange visor dimmed at the sight of his twin’s weakness, holding him closer.

Jazz had become blind when he was a little sparkling. He had taken his sires’ bonds breaking harsher than Ricochet. Punch actually wondered if Jazz took some of Ricochet's pain through their bond. It left Jazz more susceptible to disease. A virus quickly overtook him, taking his visor with.

Ricochet, having seen the surgery his twin went through to get outfitted with a visor, got one for himself. It didn’t have feelers that integrated into his processor to power his optical suite, but it left the twins almost identical again. With the added bonus of color coding them.

With one of his senses gone and smothered by his familial unit, Jazz found it harder to ignore the itch in his spark. He wanted to shred his armor with his claws, not stopping until he reached his spark’s core and got rid of the itch.

Wiggling his arms out of the embrace with his twin, Jazz went to do that before Carrier firmly took hold of his servos, wrapping them back around Ricochet. Jazz interlocked his digits, webbing melding together. He went limp, behaving for Carrier, and hoping he’d be able to attempt the clawing against. However, Carrier held on, firm.

“I know it’s uncomfortable.” Carrier murmured in Jazz’s audial. “But I raised two resilient sparklings. You’ll adapt and thrive.”

Jazz whimpered, sinking into his carrier. “I don’t want to adapt and thrive. I want my mate.” He said, feeling like a petulant sparkling.

“I know, darling.” Carrier crooned, rubbing Jazz’s servos. “But I wouldn’t get hopeful for his return.” Punch winced at Jazz’s whine. “Not anytime soon, anyway. Do not doubt you will reunite. I assure you, your resonance will return. Primus made him just for you. However…”

Punch hesitated. The situation was complicated. Punch had caught a glimpse of the youngling mated to his own. The land youngling had been scared, and Punch didn’t really blame him. He saw the dark side of their pod. The seas could be a harsh place. Punch wouldn’t be surprised if that youngling never wanted to go to sea again. 

“Your bond is a bridge.” Punch restarted. “One that will connect land mecha and mers. Understand, my Jazz, that it’ll take time to make this bridge. Our cultures, our languages, and very frames are so different. Your mate will need time, but I assure you he’ll return. Allow him to have his time and space. Fate will make your currents cross again.”

“What if… what if they don’t?” Jazz said in a small voice.

Carrier rumbled his engine soothingly. “They will. The currents know what they’re doing. You’ll see your resonance again.”

Jazz didn’t respond, just snuggling deeper into the embraces and sand. Soon, his strained systems entered a deep recharge.

Jazz would go on to fantasize how his mate would return to him. As he got older and understood their situation more, the happy reunion would turn miscommunicated and dark. The vorns, then deca-vorns went by, and Jazz started to doubt any of those fantasies coming true.

But Carrier ended up being right. He always was. 

None of his fantasies ended up coming true. Jazz didn’t know if the reality was worse or better.