Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PROLOGUE

Sparks of hope.

Sparks of new life.

The Emberstone had brought a new balance on planet Earth, slightly chaotic and still working through to reach its peak. The wave that hit the planet not only restored every cybertronian life fallen to the Space Bridge Weapon, but created new Wells all over the world, some easily accessible, some deep into the crust remaining hidden for years.

Terrans were here to stay and proliferate.

It wasn’t long before there were news of new protoforms emerging from these Wells. It wasn’t a large number at first, barely around a hundred from all over the world and governments acted quickly upon their discovery, promptly assisted by cybertronians, all eventually reporting to Optimus Prime’s HQ.

Optimus Prime had a lot on his hands after the Weapon had been neutralized…

Alongside agent Jon Schloder and Megatron, they completely reformed G.H.O.S.T. as true equal-side partners, renamed “Sp.Ark.” (the name was still somehow a work-in-progress, suggested by both Optimus and Schloder, something connected to a Special Ark, about bringing everyone together… they tried different things, but the name simply stuck, much to all the other bots’ excitement, especially Megatron’s…even Elita gave up at some point), expanding their praxis as wide as possible to all the different organizations in other Countries. Their main goal was to provide a deeper equilibrium between humans and cybertronians, including a guided introduction for former Decepticons on Earth coexistence –no more forced capture and imprisonment unless strictly necessary- and to evaluate the Terrans’ situations, guaranteeing them guidance into society.

An important broadcast has been shown over the world, a message from Optimus Prime himself alongside the most estimated human leaders from every continent, a call to all humans and cybertronians in the highest hope to build a wonderful future for everyone. It had been translated in more than 1000 languages (of both terrestrial and cybertronian origins) and the list still grows.

Unfortunately, as it was expected, there would have been quite a few obstacles to achieve their goals. Despite coexistence between humans and cybertronians starting almost half a century before, some things in species never change, and some bad apples still approached with indignation, hostility and in very rare cases, even violence. 

Some Countries were those cases and two Terrans were born in such territories. Despite countless attempts to diplomacy, those two new life forms were never registered in the Global Archive and never shared a contact. Optimus deeply feared for those Terrans after seeing their life force disappear from their scans…

Former Decepticons surprisingly responded more positively than expected to this new broadcast. Many came out of hiding desperately wanting to live their lives in peace, encouraged by the latest events and seeing how many of the former Decepticons high ranks had joined the cause. Back in the day, seeing Megatron joining the Autobots was outraging, a deep-cut affront, a visceral betrayal… but many soon saw past that… exhausted by what millions of years of war had scarred them with. They were all given a new guidance, a new meaning, a purpose, a new start. With a lot of work, many found their peace, a job, an instruction, a home.

There were still a few bots who preferred to stay neutral or directly out of the main events.

The new Terran members approached as well, followed by eager human or cybertronians or even mixed families, and soon Academies were built in the biggest capital cities.

The Maltos were easily chosen to be a beacon for every other Terran, the crest shown by Quintus Prime was their new emblem and many wore it with pride.

Within 10 years, the number of Terrans reached a million.

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“Is there any progress? Report,” Megatron proudly stood before the reworked frame of the Groundbridge, reallocated from the underground level of the base to an upper, better accessible story. It was way more stable and more efficient than ever, the phenomenal work their engineers put into it gave bots and humans a new way of transport, despite being incredibly controlled. There were 52 active Groundbridges around the globe and counting, yet only one has been worked on in the hope to achieve Spacebridge level. For now they were simply updating the Bridgenet for the 53^rd opening, based in Italy.

“Reaching complete update in 6 hours, sir. Italian side will be ready to celebrate the opening by midday, our time.” Tarantulas said from the control panel.

“Marvelous,” said a cheerful well known voice as heavy steps echoed in the big chamber. Megatron turned to see Optimus approach the frame, standing next to him. “it surely put me in the mood to visit the Country.”

Megatron raised a brow at him, “I’m surprised you haven’t seen it yet. Lovely place,”

“You kept me busy enough here, Megs,” His voice was low as he commented and Megatron didn’t even need to look at him to know about the grin on his face, he could almost feel it. “And made me feel somewhat peckish, would you join me?” 

“By Primus, if I hear another joke about energon pizza,” growled the grey bot.

“Eh, I still take pride I made you laugh,” Optimus turned on his heels, congratulated the lead scientist and his team for the continuous amazing job and waited for Megatron at the door.

After taking a deep, sharp in-vent, Megatron fought hard to not smile as he felt his lips twitching and curling at the reminder of that stupid joke from some time before. He pinched between his eyes, cleared his throat and followed Optimus out.

The top floors were finally getting busy with a lot of people and bots coming and going, sign of the start of the day and change of shifts. It was still breakfast time and the majority of the staff was heading towards the canteen.

Megatron didn’t even take a step out of the elevator that his intercom beeped. Bringing a digit to his audial, he listened in. From the frown alone, OP understood something was up, but the other bot waved him off. “I’ll save you something then. Maybe.” He tried a humorous grin and headed out, while Megatron pressed the button to descend again, to a deeper level this time.

“Elaborate, Shockwave.” Megatron’s calm voice echoed in the big dark room, catching everyone’s attention. A myriad of screens covered every single wall of the chamber, the console panels crowning the whole picture with many little lights.

The scientist raised his head, his big eye flashing bright. “Allow me to let the one who discovered it talk. It’d be…logical.” He showed the palm of his hand towards Nightshade.

The little Terran typed quickly on the console and on the big central screen behind them and an audio analysis program opened playing a file. It was subdivided in different layers and a few peaks were signed in red. They were incredibly small, but showed a clear repeated pattern.

“We picked up a signal from the deepest quadrant of our network! We’ve been monitoring it for the last 12 hours and we deduced it’s artificial for sure!” They cleared their throat, “Sir,” Nightshade smiled proudly, standing straight with their wings behind their back. There wasn’t truly a need to address Megatron so formally, not even on the job, but it was still pleasant to the commander’s audials.

Megatron looked at the young one with a sort of fondness. Having a bright mind, it was the right call to put them to work with a team of specialists, with Tarantulas being their main mentor. Nightshade had indeed put an immense work to reshape the structure and if it wasn’t for them, there wouldn’t be the main courses of the Academies. Many things had changed in 10 years and the Terran proudly showed their new upgrade on their frame, now looking more to what humans call “harpy”, with big owl wings attached to their arms, metalling feather-tips carefully not touching the ground and a long feathery tail as well, eyes big and bright as ever. Their colors remained somewhat the same, if not slightly lighter shade with rims in silver.

A 3D map of the network was projected in the center of the room, showing as far as the cybertronian satellites had scanned in the starry sky. The Solar system was barely a speck at the very center of it and a red dot flashed weakly in the corner of the room. Megatron analyzed for a second the position, whatever it was it couldn’t come from Cybertron (if it was still an active planet…), wrong direction and probably way too far to send anything at all. If they had to base themselves on the 3D map, Cybertron would be positioned easily out of the State from their location.

“Artificial.” He looked at Nightshade, “A ship?”

“It does match the general pitches of a cybertronian ship! But we still don’t have enough to clearly identify what kind of ship.”

“We can exclude militia ship. Otherwise it would be… illogical.” Cut in Shockwave.

“How so?”

“Too high pitched and regular. War ships don’t produce this kind of signal.”

“Very well. Is there more?”

“We calculated all the possible trajectories based on what we registered so far, and there’s a high chance it’s travelling towards Earth.”

“How high?”

“2,67% an hour ago, sir.”

“5,98% currently.” Updated Soundwave, who was on one of the far consoles. Both Nightshade and Shockwave looked at him slightly surprised and intrigued.

Megatron nodded and turned to all. “Do send hourly reports and keep this signal hunt on high priority.”

“Yes, sir!” A general response boomed in the room.

Chapter Text

Nightshade slowly opened the small side door and took a peek inside. The lights were already off in the warehouse and the spotlights focused on the stage. It was hard to understand if they already started, so to not bother the stream, the wisest thing to do was to hop in the air and painstakingly silently glide behind the small audience and search for their spot on the top seats.

“Ehy, you made it!” Thrash excitedly whispered as his sibling popped in view at his side, “You risked getting a text from mom,”

Nightshade’s eyes widened in fear and their metal feathers trembled at the thought, “Forgive my tardiness,” they whispered as they waved a hand to all the presents who noticed their arrival, mostly family members, and Optimus and Bumblebee included, who sat on the lower seats on the right side of the warehouse. “Some student needed 30 more minutes to complete their test.”

“You go too hard, teach,” Thrash snorted tagging at the sibling’s tie, which Nightshade gladly removed and put in their shoulder-bag with relief. There were days they thought that working as well in one of the Academy’s courses was a bit too much, but for them nothing brought more joy to see dedicated students (both humans and Terrans) work hard for achieving amazing results in astrophysics. Shifts between Academy and Sp.Ark. were tightly set, often Nightshade barely had a day off a week, sometimes none at all, but they were a workaholic, and when they had half day off, they were often back to work remotely from home.

“Am I late?”

“Not at all, they are still setting the streaming.”

Down below, right in front of the stage in the dark, stood Hashtag attentively working on a big screen next to a big camera. She was the one in charge of all the cameras, lights, streaming settings and chat moderator, a pure example of multitasking with still energy to sell. All this was for her mostly a biweekly appointment with her brother Jawbreaker, who now sat in his alt-mode in a comfy raised chair on the left of the stage.

Stygi-talk was something they both came up with a few years back, starting mostly as an experiment to find their own path and simply for giggles on the internet, yet it quickly became a very loved program online, especially by the new Terrans, often struggling to find their way of being. JB took at heart many stories their followers shared and he used his calm way of speaking to give good advices based on his own experiences. He was as surprised as anyone else to be able to hold a show like this, but he was a natural in talking, interviewing and especially listening, things that brought often big titled guests on the stage with him, Optimus being his first ever and reappearing in a few occasions. JB was especially loved by Terrans still looking for their alt-mode and even by cybertronian history enthusiasts, he had to thank his father Alex for introducing him to it and sharing his same passion. Not only that, but JB found himself being a fan of poetry and since he mentioned on the show that Megatron had been his mentor on this hobby of his, the chat exploded, begging for months, even on Hashtag’s influencer account, to have him as a guest.

The SILENCE sign turned on and Hashtag raised her hand, counting down with her fingers. “And we’re live in 5… 4… 3… 2…” The 1 was mute and the live signal turned on.

The catchy jingle played and the stream started with a close-up of JB.

“My, my, good evening, good evening to every bot and person, big, small and in-between, and welcome… to Stygi-talk,” JB calmly -yet with a little note of excitement- started with his classic intro, “I’m your Question-master JB and today, eh, as you all have probably guessed from our previous little teaser, today we have a very special guest that so, so… so many,” he puffed in disbelief, “of you have asked us to have here on our show. It’s been a little difficult to reel him in, but here we have him with us. Please all welcome sir Megatron himself,”

The moment the camera zoomed out to show both bots on the stage, the chat became a river of overly-excited comments, they were so fast that Hashtag seemed to struggle for half a second to keep track of everything.

Megatron almost shyly waved at the camera as he sat tightly in his big chair, but kept his appearance with dignity and professionalism. “G’d evening, g’d evening, and, eh, thank you for having me, JB,”

The stygibot’s tail moved excitedly from a side to the other as he got comfier, “It’s us who have to thank you! We all know you have a tight schedule, we really appreciate your presence here on our little show.” JB was handling a little tablet and he shook it slightly as if to show it off, “we have a good list of questions for you tonight! And if it’s alright for you, later on we’ll have a couple of questions live from our followers. Of course we’ll keep it moderated,”

“Of course,”

“So! I doubt there’s any need of introduction seeing how our chat is imploding on itself…” He cleared his throat, “Although, would you still introduce yourself to our followers?”

“Gladly. My name’s Megatron,” his voice boomed, “and I’m part of the Prime team at Sp.Ark. Organization.” He brought a fist to his chest, “My duty is to guarantee safety and peace among humans and cybertronians,”  

JB nodded in thanks, “So, one of our first topic we wanted to discuss with you is born from my mentioning of poetry and how you’ve been my mentor for it. Many people simply couldn’t believe it! And yet we’ve known each other since a little after I came online,”

“Indeed, we have. And you still surprise me on how you and your siblings have all grown up.”

There was a little moment of touching embarrassment among the Malto siblings and pride beamed from both Dorothy and Alex.

“Come on, Megatron, there’s my family in the audience,” JB tried to hide behind his tablet and the chat filled up with hearts.

“Good!” the cybertronian said out loud, “the world needs to know how the whole Prime team is proud of you all for everything you’ve done and continue doing today! Brave, courageous, fiercely fought against mighty opponents! You’ve been a beacon of hope for all humans and Terrans alike for years!”

Optimus, from the audience, gave him two big and high thumbs-up, copied by the Malto parents, while the kids just wanted to disappear… Robby, now 23, and Mo, 19, sank so much into their seats that only their hair was almost visible. Next to them the Terrans were highly venting out of blushing, Twitch was trying to melt into her seat camouflaging with its colors, Thrash pulled his goggles down keeping his hands over his face and slid so hard down he was now sitting on the floor, crunched against his long legs, Nightshade tried to look away hiding behind a wing. Hashtag couldn’t move from her position and tried to ignore the insane chat. Even Bumblebee tried to convince OP to put down his arms, feeling second-hand embarrassment for the kids.

JB cleared his throat whispering the feeblest Thank you in history, shook his dino-head and kept his chin up, desperately trying to start the topic immediately. “How… How did poetry impact your life, Megatron? How did you discover it?”

The next half an hour had been relatively peaceful and an interesting in-depth story of how Megatron discovered the old art back on Cybertron, on how he could express himself through it asking questions nobody wanted to ask at the time and expressing thoughts that were seen uncomfortable, yet keeping them hidden in sight through the art of words. “It kept my sanity in check for eons, but at the same time it accumulated a frustration deep within that caused me to lose sight of what was important, and filled me with rage! And hate! And there… I fully lost myself for so long it’s still hard today to think it was even possible. Only in recent decades I was brave enough to return to my poems, although my first works have been lost for so, so long.”

“You indeed mentioned me how poetry kept you sane, so to speak.”

“It literally did, it wasn’t a way of speech.”

“How did you return to the art?”

Megatron’s red eyes darted for a moment towards Optimus before staring at a vague spot in front of himself, deep in thought. “It was… somewhat the most natural act I could have done after someone showed me what I desperately needed the most and I was given a chance I still today don’t think I’ve ever deserved. I was honored with trust, compassion and understanding, more than I could ever even dream of. It broke me partially out of that cocoon I build on myself eon, after eon, after eon, and it’s been an incredible and patient load of work. I was encouraged to latch on my original believes and express them in the only sane way I knew. More people followed that sentiment and kept… my head out of the water, as humans say. Unsurprisingly, one of these people has been your mother Dorothy.”

From her seat, Dot was shaking her head with a bright smile on her lips.

JB too had a nice smile, “How long have you two known each other? How did you meet?”

“It was right after the war had ended, for 25 years I’ve been proudly considering her a dear friend of mine, for years we’ve been part of Platoon Cyberstrike!”

As the interview was going on, Hashtag had come across a nagging constant question in chat, becoming so annoyingly present that at that point she had to interrupt the show raising her hand.

“What is it, sis?” JB asked, surprised.

“Sorry, guys, but we have hundreds of people in chat asking the same question and it’s driving my filters nuts! Agh! Ok ok ok calm down, chat! Ough!” She quickly sent the pop-up message to JB’s tablet so he could see what chat was begging to know.

“So uh… you know, it’s something I never actually asked and I’m curious myself. If it’s alright I’d move to the chat’s most asked questions.” Megatron nodded, intrigued as well. “With more than 2.000 people behind it, the question is How old are you? They’d like a precise number…”

Megatron blinked and snorted surprised, he wasn’t expecting such an interested in that. “In human years I’m 19.736.854. I may not be young anymore, but I think I’m doing quite well for my age.”

A good solid moment of silence dropped like a brick in the room, even the chat seemed to freeze up, the only one not surprised was OP.

Megatron looked around confused, “What?”

Soon tempest fell upon the stream and the chat was flooded with compliments, shocked reactions, mentioning being old enough to meet actual dinosaurs (that one commenter got obliterated for being dumb, starting a sort of war among comments). Even Megatron’s arm’s display flashed with a text from Elita-1, “YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN ME?! BY 1K?!” He quickly dismissed it, half smiling, surprised she was watching.

Until one single comment created a domino effect and just broke Hashtag, making her laugh out loud for how stupid it was. She quickly sent it to JB’s tablet and even he had a moment of disbelief, closing his eyes trying to not laugh.

“What is it?” Megatron asked, entertained.

JB puffed out from his nostrils and tried his best to read, “A follower whose name I refuse to say out loud,” he snorted, “says and I quote You don’t look a day older than a million, bunch of hearts emojis, Keep slaying, queen.”

A loud choke sound came from the audience…

Even Megatron barely kept it in, biting his lips to not laugh, “Thank you, dear follower, whatever the last statement means, thank you I suppose…” He pinched the bridge of his nose and loud steps echoed in the warehouse towards the exit, when a thunderous laughter and wheezing just forced him to look.

It was Optimus right outside the main big doors bent in half absolutely losing it…

Everyone looked astonished and way too influenced by his laughing that the small audience started as well and clapping.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” JB stated, half gasping, “that was Optimus Prime and that’s it, we lost him as you can hear him in the background, we broke him. Good job, chat…”

“Oh Primus, now he’s going to giggle all night…” said Megatron, rubbing his face with a hand.

Hashtag didn’t lose the chance to immortalize the scene and quickly turned the camera around just to see Bumblebee trying to calm OP down, but the moment he patted his arm, Optimus who was just starting breathing again, bent over once more and lost it, his laughter absolutely contagious to everyone in earshot. Bee just turned around, dropping his arms in disappointment.

The chat surely didn’t miss what Megatron had said and soon the most prominent questions to pop up were:

What does he mean?!

How does he know?!

Are they married?!

At that JB simply let the tablet drop to the floor, not even when OP appeared the first time it got so chaotic…

The camera returned on him and Megatron, both looking defeated as the echo of OP’s laugh continued in the background.

“Thank you, Megatron for coming here today, if it’s ok for you we’ll have you again another time to talk exclusively about alt-modes,”

“Yes. Gladly. I’ll see to get free next week… I’m not bringing Optimus though.”

The chat went crazy.

“Have a good night, ever-”

The stream froze.

Chapter Text

“That was quite a tumble, kid.”

Nightshade’s eyes fluttered open just enough to notice Tarantulas at their side. They were lying on a padded berth with a soft light filtering through an obscured window. A sharp pain pulsed through their right wing and their neck was stiff. “I might have miscalculated the strength of the wind this morning…”

Tarantulas’ mandibles twitched as he crossed his arms, “You crashed on Schloder’s new van.” One of his spider-arms stretched to the endtable at their side, “The medic had to pry this out of your rear feathers.” A couple of fluffy pink dice jingled from his claws.

“Oh goodness… I shall apologize as soon as I can.” Nightshade raised their left wing wanting to rub their eyes, but immediately noticed an unnatural lightness, their feathers had been clipped on both wings. “What…?”

“A precaution, the doc said, for a better balancing. Your right wing was… in shambles. Your vitals are being evaluated in the other room, but the doc is more than positive that you’ll survive.”

Nightshade suddenly gasped, “I need to inform the principal! And my family ought to know too!”

“Easy, there, Top Gun,” A spider claw gently pressed on the good shoulder, firmly keeping Nightshade glued to the berth, “Shockwave already informed the Academy and Megatron called your mother. Now stay still.”

The medic bot unceremonially entered the room holding a datapad, he was a tall, slender individual with an optical enhancer raised over his head. “Well, good to see you are awake. Let’s go, the procedure won’t take much time, we’ll patch you up nicely and set you to rest for a while.”

“Wait, doctor!” Panic started to rise in Nightshade’s voice, “How long do I need to rest? I have duties to attend to and… and…! I cannot leave my team with such an amount of work, not now that we’re studying a new audio source and my students need my guidance, I cannot abandon them now that finals are rolling out!”

The more Nightshade ranted on, the more the medic looked done, he even stopped listening to them and turned to Tarantulas, “It’s going to be an odyssey to keep them away from work, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea. I’m considering chains.”

“Being your apprentice, Tar, I’m considering magnets,” The medic and the spider-bot shared quite a lot of history since they used to work in the same labs during the war, and Sharpenclaw never had a worse patient than Tarantulas. “Alright, kid, enough yapping! I say rest, you rest! Off we go, I want you and your mentor here out of my clinic yesterday!” He sharply detached the levitating berth from the wall and pushed poor Nightshade to the operating room.

Tarantulas couldn’t help but laugh a bit seeing his young pupil’s big eyes pleading for mercy as they disappeared behind the door. Stories of Sharpenclaw being able to scare Megatron back in the day still roamed around the base, But the Terran was in very good hands, so Tar left the room from another door. Right outside in the big hall the rest of the Maltos anxiously awaited, accompanied by Megatron, who took charge in updating the rest of the cybertronians.

The scientist took a moment to calm down the family, but quickly reassured them Nightshade was awake and aware, they were in good hands and that they’d be out in probably 30 minutes.

“My… poor Shade, they are going to be incredibly crossed.” Mo barely held a chuckle.

“There’s no way we’ll be able to keep them away from work…” Groaned Robby.

“Well, we could make their stay at home as comfortable as possible!” Twitch peeped, “I’ll get extra pillows!”

“I’ll get the sweets they like so much!” JB offered.

“And I’ll make a playlist of their favorite movies and music tracks!”

Thrash sighed aloud, eyes to the sky, biting his lips to not snort, “I’ll grab the books,”

Dot and Alex shared a well knowing look, unsurprisingly both sharing the same thought the medic had.

“Magnets?”

“Magnets.”

After some time, the door finally opened and the medic gently pushed Nightshade out. All their wing feathers had been trimmed (the doctor would re-file them once they were healed), their right arm showed a temporary metal sleeve wielded on to keep it in bent position and close to the chest and the neck was trapped in a net collar with a soft net window to the side, where it had been operated. There had been some rewiring and the doctor closed the neck up nicely, leaving almost no scar, but there was an absolute need of rest for minimum two weeks.

Nightshade could grumble all they wanted, but no work and full relax for the time being was a must. “…I feel like a ruffled chicken.” They sighed.

“You’ll feel worse tomorrow morning,” the medic dryly cut in giving them a not-so-gentle pat on the good shoulder. “So, plenty of rest, plenty of Quintex, yadda yadda yadda. See you in two weeks.” And with that he disappeared, slamming the door behind himself.

The harpy bot sighed in half a chuckle, “Hi, everyone…”

The siblings all formed a protective circle around them, storming them with questions, if they were ok, if they were hurt, usual things, and poor Nightshade, being way too used to turn their head around almost 360°, had to awkwardly turn their torso to face each of them.

“Alright, alright, alright, everyone, let them breathe!” Dot stepped in, playfully shooing the kids aside and grabbing Nightshade’s hand in hers, “My poor tall baby… Come on, let’s get you home, honey, I knew it was way too windy today.”

The Terran squeezed her hand in reassurance, “It’s alright, mom, just allow me to go grab a few thing in the lab-”

The sharp yet brief tug Dorothy pulled followed by a look that could kill… everyone present in the room froze, even Megatron seemed to flinch. “We’re going home, honey. Now.”

“Yes, mom.” Nightshade quickly responded out of breath.

“That’s my good baby,” she patted their hand before sharply turn towards Tarantulas, “You!” The spider-bot was immediately standing at attention, his long limbs on his back quivering, “Go fetch Night’s stuff, anything they might need! JB, Thrash! You help him! Twitch, Robby, Mo! You go home and get all the necessities ready! Megatron! Open doors and keep every bot on sight out of the way! Hashtag, Alex! You drive! MOVE!”

“YES, MA’AM!”

Hashtag gently parked inside the family’s barn and the elevator activated at her signal, letting her drive in the underground bunker. She had to particularly careful because of not much room for maneuvering, but she still fitted nicely. Having Nightshade, mom and dad on board she had to remodel her modules giving her a longer stand so that her sibling could also lie down. Her alt-mode had changed a couple of times in the last years, but her last was something she was very proud of. It was a modular mode that allowed her to add parts to her four-wheel self and change length when needed, also adding little structures inside like berths or seats. While her Terran body changed into a slicker figure, keeping a rich violet tint, with lilac details and very thin golden linings. The back door opened and Dot helped Nightshade out while Alex hopped out from the driver’s seat.

Nightshade’s corner had been promptly prepared for his arrival, transformed into a blob of pillows with a table that could move over their berth for snacks and various objects, and the main tv had been set with a Gamecube and Nightshade’s favorite game Windwaker (they loved visiting the Rito village, characters they took as inspiration for their current look) next to a Switch with Breath of the Wild (same reason). Once the Terran was dropped for comfort, Dorothy made a quick list of things.

“Alright… Quintex bites, syrup, icy snacks, noodles… Yeah, there’s everything.”

Quintex was the name of what previously was simply known as “cave water”. Within a short time it had been studied and found out it had many properties similar to Energon, and it quickly got used to create any kind of solid resource Terrans could use as fuel, with the cherry on top being having different flavors.

The elevator returned down and a very winded down JB and Thrash got into the bunker, loaded with too many carton boxes.

“Just a couple of things, Tarantulas said…” He transformed before one of the boxes flipped and fell to the floor, catching it in his hands and flopping himself on the ground. JB’s dino legs gave up and Twitch and Hashtag were fast to help him unload.

Dorothy gave Nightshade a big old kiss on the forehead, “There you go, nice and cosy. Although I’m afraid we all have to work or class.”

Thrash straightened up groaning, hands on his lower back hearing something clank, “I have no plans for the day, mom, I can stay.”

Nightshade’s eyes widened and they cleared their throat, “No, no, it’s fine, go back to your duties, I’ll stay here and… relax… play some videogames… read a book or two…” They really tried a smile…

A heavy communal glare came from every single relative, none of them took the bait.

Dot turned to Thrash, “Please, honey, do stay,”

“Eh, gladly. I even grabbed some magnetic bands.”

“It is not funny!” Nightshade complained aloud.

“And here you go, shaken and with three ice cubes, as you like it.” Thrash cheerfully added a long twisty straw into the drink and passed it to Nightshade before sitting next to them on the berth.

“Eh, you didn’t have to do it.”

Thrash gave them a challenging look, half smirking, “I can always take it back,”

“No, no! That won’t be necessary, not one bit, your offer has been greatly accepted, thank you very much!” They took a happy sip of their Quintex drink and immediately seemed to feel its effects. Thrash looked in need to rest and simply fell back, using Nightshade’s legs are pillow, taking a deep in-vent. He had spent the last hour reassembling the few things he had collected from the lab with JB, following his sibling’s instructions on how to have a display here and a container there. Plugging them right was easy enough, the machines would update on their own under Nightshade’s control, they only lacked the access to the main lab, which would be granted probably the next day.

Nightshade took a good look around the bunker, so many things had changed and yet in their room so much remained the same. It’s been a long while since they’ve been there, they had mostly spent their time at Sp.Ark. in their own office, even at night, coming back home maybe two or three times a month. Their corner was untouched, just like any other little bunk their siblings had used throughout the years, only but for Thrash’s. Every other kid had left the nest, as Alex used to say, Robby and Mo had moved out of town for college and work, JB and Hashtag had moved to the warehouse where they made their show and Twitch had tried different things at first, but stayed at Sp.Ark. working often with Megatron and Elita-1 on training courses. She was quite proud of her training with double swords and she had her own team of students she took care of.
Thrash though… he never moved out of the bunker and had tried all kinds of different hobbies and jobs, worked often with Bumblebee and Breakdown on speed courses and scouting and his actual job for the moment was being a ranger in the park with mom. He seemed to enjoy it quite a nice amount, he knew all the trails and helped in so many occasions with lost tourists, which were always ready to end in very dangerous situations.
Yet something seemed to bother him and Nightshade knew well what was always gnawing at their brother and it all was because of the connection they all lost ten years ago. After Quintus’ power nullified the Weapon’s damages, so creating new Wells for Terrans to be born from, the Cybersleeves had been struck by such an overpowering wave that they reset, so to speak, harshly disrupting the siblings’ connection among themselves. There’s been some mending with Quintex, so the sleeves regained their sword and shield abilities, but the siblings could no longer feel one another’s feelings.
It was quite jarring for all of them after such a long time one being able to feel another’s presence within a certain distance and took a while to readjust and adapt. The whole family learned to communicate more openly, more than they were used to, still always keeping a healthy balance. Thrash struggled the most, but also unfortunately learned to bottle feelings up and hide it to not worry anyone around him. Seeing the siblings then leave surely didn’t help and Nightshade guessed Thrash tried different things to distract himself and not face the issue again.

Nightshade silently sipped and looked at their brother thoughtfully. “You changed your paint again.”

“Mhm,” Thrash mumbled, without opening his optics, “I needed something similar to my original one,”

“I see though you added nice details, they suit you so much better. I’m glad you got rid of the camo look.” They chuckled.

“Yeah… that was a stupid phase. At least it was short-lived.” Thrash became notorious for having changed paint in a few occasions, trying more sportive look or natural or trying something Dot called “Goth phase”. Now he wore again his ivory color with teal and amber-gold rims, like back in the day, but added the amber tone to his goatee, on top of his helm in a sort of colored thin crest and around wrists and ankles.

“I still have nightmares of it time to time,”

“I still have nightmares about you singing at that karaoke event a few years a-”

“That never happened.” Nightshade cut short, embarrassed.

“Ah! Sure, Bird-brain,”

Nightshade grinned, giving him a challenging side-eye. “You broken wheelchair.”

The siblings looked at each other and both burst out laughing.

“Haven’t heard that in a while!” Thrash’s vents huffed as he sat up, pulling one ankle on the bed.

“Haven’t had many occasions to say it out loud lately, though if I remember correctly, your favorites were Lop-suckling rotor, No-gas kart and Wheelie bin”

Thrash wheezed at their side, “Ohhh did you just call me piece of trash?! You’re lucky you have a cast or I’d wrestle you on the floor!”

Nightshade gave a toothy smirk and opened their left wing, “I’d still know how to lock you, I tell you!”

And within a sprint, Thrash launched forward in an odd excuse of tackle, letting himself being trapped under Nightshade’s precise neck lock, a move they mastered in a short time since they grew up among quite a crew of siblings who loved to roughhouse way too often. It had, though, a calming effect on the older sibling and soon their grip softened into an embrace.

“I missed you, you dunkadoo.” Thrash pressed himself against their frame, “You scared us all shitless today, you and your fancy falling from the sky like a rock.”

The owl bot had to admit as well how much they had missed having their siblings around. Despite being a more reserved kind of bot, more for spending time analyzing data and brainstorming over mechanical ideas alone, nothing could ever replace that warm feeling their family ever gave them, loud happy screams and all. “…Maybe it was a sign the universe gave me to say go back home for a while, to take a break from work.” The wing tightened around the ivory-teal frame.

“Should have done that earlier if you ask me.” Thrash huffed.

Nightshade chuckled and patted his back, “…Mario Kart?”

“Double dash?!”

“Sure,”

“Oh, you’re on!”

“Good morniiiing!” It was 7 o’clock when Alex’s voice cheerfully beamed into the bunker carrying a full tray of Quintex treats for the Terran kids. “Thraaash! Shaaade! I brought you something special to start your dayyyy!” All he got as an answer was a loud groan as Thrash came out from his recharging state.

Alex happily trotted towards the sound, “Come on, kids, up and shine, today is a gorgeous d- Where is Nightshade?!”

Thrash snapped fully awake although struggling to focus his optics, “Wha-wha-what?!” He pawed next to himself and dag under the pillows only to find a nicely written note.

Don’t get mad at me, I’ll be quick! -NS

Thrash groaned even louder and showed the note to Alex, “How… They’ve spent all night long uploading files for their classes! Two month worth! I was expecting to find them recharging!”

Alex heartedly chuckled and put down the tray on a table, “Come on, son, let’s go get the chicken that escaped from the coop before your mom gets a call.”

So far so good, no one at Sp.Ark. had spotted a tall Terran wearing a long elegant black and grey poncho (a gift from Twitch for last Christmas) and with their crest plates rearranged around the neck collar… Nightshade had seen very rare members walking about the floors and none took the lab staff elevator, which functioned only with the scientists’ cardkeys. Before going to their workstation level, Nightshade took a moment to stop by Schloder’s office, well knowing he wasn’t in until much later. Getting into the room was an incredible easy task, technically the whole security system had been recoded by them and Hashtag, they knew all the masterkeys of the structure. The owl bot punched the code in and swiftly got inside taking a breather, being unable to turn their neck around made sneaking so much harder. With a sharp in-vent, they moved to the desk and, taking pen and paper, they started writing down a message. It was in situations like this they were happy to be ambidextrous.

My biggest, most sincere apologies for what my clumsiness caused to your new van, sir.

I’ll be more than happy to rebuild it myself as soon as I’ll able to, adding a couple of perks of your choice.  -NS

Nightshade, satisfied, quickly walked out of the room locking the door again and tip-toed towards the elevator raising their feet-claws just enough to not clink on the smooth floor. Once again in the elevator, they pressed the right button and relaxed for a minute… only to not expect at all Tarantulas standing before the doors as they opened, and he looked incredibly crossed.

“O-Oh! Hi, good morning, Tar! Splendid day is today, not as windy as yesterday!” If they could, Nightshade would be sweating bullets.

“What in the name of this planet are you doing?” One of his long spider arms swiftly snatched the cardkey from their lanyard. “Not that is much different for you to have this or not since you know all the codes of the base, but allow me to send a message that you refuse to hear!”

Nightshade didn’t protest, but their eyes grew wider in plead. “Oh, please Tar, I just wanted to check why I wasn’t granted access yet, I have everything set at home,”

“I would have done it already, but doctor’s orders,” he didn’t add that in case he’d have given access to Nightshade to work, Sharpenclaw would have used Tar’s spider legs as golf clubs… “Now please return home before I call your mother,”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t you sass me,”

“Tar, please, I just want to check a couple of data,”

The dial started ringing loudly from Tarantulas’ audial…

“Judas.”

Once returned to the nest and scolded, the bird Terran was quickly back on their computer, exchanging a few of emails with the principal of the Academy they worked at, as well as replying to some of their students asking about their well-being (followed by so many wishes to get well soon and return to class). Nightshade thoroughly uploaded even more material the students could access to online while they were waiting for the video-call with the principal.

“Jane, it’s such a pleasure to see you again,”

A thin, very stoic looking woman in her 60s appeared on the screen, pointy glasses tightly pressed against her face and blonde hair collected in a high bun. “Nightshade, the pleasure is mine, I’m glad you’re doing fine, the news of your accident scared the whole academy!”

“I’m more than fine, although the stiffness is a slight annoyance, but I assure you, I’ll be back in no time.”

“That is all what we like to hear, although… about your request,”

“My thought of teaching remotely would quicken recovering the time lost!” Nightshade gleefully exclaimed, his talking going for the tangent.

“Indeed, that’d be incredibly useful,” The principal tried to politely intervene.

“I could easily send in class one of my assistant-bots,” they continued as if they didn’t hear her, “having a screen, a camera,”

“Nightshade…”

“Multiple arms for different activities, always wondered if I should install some on myself,”

“Nightshade.”

“Could also install on the students’ tablets a program to give me direct access t-”

“Mx. Malto.”

The Terran quickly shut up and bowed their torso in apology, half smiling. They sure were known for their fast train-of-thoughts. “My apologies, Jane, I’m simply very excited.”

“I well know, Nightshade, I know… this is why I’m saddened to say that this thing cannot be done.”

Nightshade blinked in confusion, “Wha… Why is that? I don’t think I’m overstepping…”

“No, no, not at all, Nightshade, if it was for me I would have given you full management, but… uh… I received an email from your medic and he said –and I quote- that <<his patient should never interact with any kind of working activity, either in person or remotely, because of the need of ABSOLUTE REST for the following two weeks. STRESS is an incredible negative factor on the healing of delicate circuits that I have operated on my patient and therefore no contact out of personal interest should ever be made.>>” She made a face shaking her head, “As you can see, Nightshade, I’m legally bound to not make you work.”

Nightshade was dumbstruck and they simply stated aloud “Not working gives me stress!”

Jane sighed nodding, “I’m aware, I’m aware… unfortunately as you can see, my hands are tied and, if I can read correctly between the lines here, if I don’t follow your medic’s instructions to the letter I might fear he’ll collect my spleen during the night.” She shivered, “As illegal as that can be,”

“I understand…” Nightshade’s metallic feathers drooped sadly. “As much as I’m sure Sharpenclaw wouldn’t go that far, I still wouldn’t risk it myself.”

Jane shared half a chuckle with them, “And we’ve been already assigned a substitute teacher.”

“Oh… that was fast.”

“He’ll start tomorrow after passing through Sp.Ark. documentation office, I don’t know when he’ll arrive in town though.”

Nightshade pursed their lips, intrigued, “May I know who’ll it be?”

“Don’t be nosey, now, Nightshade, I certainly cannot tell you he’s a Gen 2 Terran named Atlan O’Donnell. Forgive me, but I can’t tell you.” She nonchalantly clasped her hands together.

“A pity,” they smirked.

“And since I care about my spleen, this call never happened, so I wish you a well-deserved rest, Nightshade. Take care of yourself, can’t wait to have you back.”

The rest of the day went by peacefully, Nightshade was left alone in the afternoon as Thrash was off to work up the mountains to rescue some dumb guy lost on a trail. They could relatively follow him, being connected to the trail cams their mom installed all over the park, also enjoying some sighting of a curious animal passing by. The chat the siblings shared beeped more often since Nightshade was at home, whenever one was free he or she sent a message to know how things were going, to share a silly meme or send dumb vocals.

Nightshade never stopped working on their pc, trying to dig out information from the archives, but every time they tried to access, they were denied.

It was at night that they decided to pay another visit to Sp.Ark., waiting patiently for everyone to sleep and recharge… Nightshade had to admit they promised to not do anything stupid… they were just going to check their own office after all.

Once again, reaching the facility, entering through staff doors even without the cardkey and stealthily arriving to their office was quite a child’s play for Nightshade, though it’d have been easier if they could glide.

There was a note on their desk… from the handwriting, it was from Tarantulas.

Won’t even bother to alarm anything, since you’d easily bypass… I know you’ll eventually pop in here, you little menace.

GO HOME

Nightshade chuckled “I’ll go in a minute, don’t worry,” and connected to the archives.

         >New arrivals

         >Terrans

         >Documentation

“Ah, there it is… Atlan O’Donnell… indeed gen 2, born one year after me… Australian, born from a Well in a natural reserve a few kilometers off Cooma… lovely family, I see… three older human siblings, studied abroad and moved with the family in Texas a few years ago. Alt mode… a red Scout Bobbed Limited motorbike with customized details.” Indeed in the photos of the Terran, it was shown his alt mode and his Terran mode, having a set of red shoulders, helmet, gauntlets and shins, a removable orange visor, white rims and a grey colored faceplate and rest of the body, yellow bright optics.

Nightshade read through his curriculum and was impressed by the many studies and courses his colleague had done, they would love to meet him!

Arrival… 8:00am.

Nightshade excitedly took note and turned everything off, ready to sneak back home and nobody ever even seen them mov-

“If Sharpenclaw sees you here, he’ll put a cast on your legs too. After promptly breaking them.”

The unbelievable sheer luck of the owl bot brought them to find Megatron right around a corner simply waiting.

Nightshade squeaked in shock, their metal feathers rattling as if ready to battle. Took them a moment to calm down… “You saw me going in, didn’t you?” They asked, defeated.

Megatron snorted, “You’re not as stealthy as you think, Little Owl.” The young Terran made a face, grumpy, blaming it all on the cast. They sighed deeply. “Fear not, I’m not calling your mother.”

Nightshade looked up at him squinting, suspicious, “Nor anybody else?”

“Ah, you have my word.” At that, the Terran smiled relieved, “Come,” The cybertronian headed towards the staff exit, each step he took, Nightshade took four, but he kept a slow pace so the Terran could keep up. “You just reminded me of someone,”

“How so?”

“Sneaking into archives for data. Same style, less messy.”

“This someone always got caught?” They chuckled.

“Always. And it was always me getting him out of trouble.”

“And who would that be?”

“Who told you I’m telling?”

Nightshade wiggled a claw at his teasing, “Was it Optimus, wasn’t it?”

“I said nothing and you shouldn’t presume.”

“Ahah, in what kind of archives did he get into? What was he looking for?”

Megatron stopped and looked down at him, crossing his arms, “I might share this story once you return officially without both cast and collar.”

“That’s unfair, if it was Twitch, you would have told her immediately.”

“Now, don’t go thinking I play favorites!” The old bot chimed, ruffled, “That’s certainly not the case. And wipe that grin off your face,” Suddenly hearing heavy steps in the distance, Megatron signed them to get closer and moved his leg to cover the Terran.

Walking at full speed, almost marching, doctor Sharpenclaw appeared from behind a corner, passing past his superior. “Evening, sir,” He grumbled

“Doctor. Emergency call?”

“Some idiot landed sideways, now he has a leg walking towards the future and one towards the past, he’ll arrive in two minutes.” He sharply stopped to look at him, sounding surprisingly serious. “You wanted to talk to me, right? I’m free at noon.”

“That’ll be perfect, thank you, doctor.” They shared a nod and the medic trotted off towards the medibay.

Once the way was clear, Nightshade tapped his leg, “Are you alright?”

“Uh?” Megatron responded absentmindedly, “Yes, of course. Just a private matter I need checked. Let’s get you home,”

Their short walk towards the Malto property was incredibly pleasant under the night sky, lots of nocturnal animals hooted and sang around them, with only a breeze caressing their frames. Megatron mostly took the time to update Nightshade about the signal they found, not that there was much more to say if not that it was definitively a ship heading towards Earth without a doubt. The cybertronian promised they would be granted eventual access to their work after talking to the stiff doctor, because indeed Megatron noticed that it was for the best and for anyone’s sanity to have Nightshade work, Sharpenclaw likes it or not. Also the Terran updated him about the substitute they’d love to meet in the morning, so Megatron granted him access to the facility under his authority as a visitor, he’ll eventually send out a circular to the staff.

Their talking was sharply interrupted by a loud revving and the spotlight of an ivory motorcycle soon flashed from the horizon. Coming to a screeching halt, Thrash transformed mid-air landing a few inches from Nightshade’s face, pointing an accusatory finger at their chest. “You had promised to not do anything stupid! –Hi, Megs!- You have no idea how mad I am!” The contrast between the menacing tone through his teeth and the cheerful salute was jarring.

“I swear I did nothing wrong!”

“Be grateful mom and dad don’t know you’ve sneaked out! Not yet at least!”

“I see you’re taking it from here, Little Bike?”

“I sure am! Thank you for accompanying them this far, Megs,”

“Both pleasure and duty. I’ll see you tomorrow morning in the offices hall,”

The inquisitive look the two-wheeler gave his sibling made Nightshade shiver in fear…

“Dad, is it really necessary?” Ask Nightshade entertained.

“But of course! A proper welcome to a new member of the famous Witwicky Academy should be a tradition by now! T-shirts, tie, flags, hat, a basket of local Quintex treats! That’s the minimum,” He proudly held everything in his arms, carefully balancing the whole thing, “I feel like back in college!”

Nightshade chuckled, “Well, you did offer to be his guide after all.”

Thrash was standing next to them, arms crossed and looking impatient. He groaned, “There’s so many people here! So many queues, so much waiting! Feels like being in a damn airport.”

“Patience, son, I’m sure he’ll appear any time now.”

Thrash huffed, “I’m going to grab a snack, want something?”

“Oh, nothing for me, thanks.”

“Same, son. Go, go, we’ll meet in a bit,”

Thrash simply hopped on his wheels, moving them under his heels, and turned around, quite eager to exit the big yet claustrophobic documentation office… completely not seeing the Terran zealously approaching the trio from behind and the two crashed one into the other, both ending on the floor in an explosion of documents, wheels up in the air.

“What on Earth…?!” Thrash collected himself in a groan and quickly helped the other Terran by picking his many papers on the floor. “I’m so sorry, man, I really didn’t see you coming!”

The other bot sat up quickly and grabbed all he could, “Nah, mate, it was me, you good?”

“Yeah, nothing bro…ken…” As he was handing him his folders, their eyes met and Thrash immediately recognized the newcomer as the substitute, Atlan O’Connell, and for a brief moment… he froze.
He saw his father helping him up and felt a clawed hand grabbing his own arm and being pulled up. Nightshade promptly patted dust off his frame and adjusted his goggles on top of his head. Atlan seemed to linger a bit, smiling at him as he reorganized the papers, but was quickly abducted by Alex who excitedly welcomed him in Witwicky.

Nightshade waited their turn to introduce themselves, but in the meanwhile they couldn’t avoid noticing how Thrash’s vents were loudly whirring and turning hot.

Chapter Text

“You think it’s been fair, Optimus?” In a clean move, Megatron swiped two of the Prime’s pieces from the Fullstasis game, leaving his opponent in deep thought.

“Why wouldn’t have been? Quintus Prime’s decision had never been clearer.”

Megatron looked at him in silence, his features barely evoking any emotion, but his optics showed a violent whirl of tormented sentiments. His vents whirred in a short sigh while Optimus made his move.

It’s been only a few weeks since Quintus’ power literally resurrected every single cybertronian and Terran on the planet… and Megatron had struggled since then to understand why he was chosen to be resurrected by the ancient Prime.

“Megatron…” The called bot raised his optics from the piece he just lost to meet his companion’s, “Please,” The pleading tone in Optimus’ voice made the ex-warlord’s vents hum slightly louder for half a second, a rare hint of deep emotion slipped out, “stop tormenting yourself.”

Megatron held a grimace from forming on his face and made his next move, slow and calculated, his fingers lingering on the piece for a second longer than normal before detaching, signing the end of his turn. The piece he moved was the chief piece, now standing tall in the middle of the board… exposed… defenseless. “Can you blame me, Prime?” Rage seeping through his teeth, his head now held low.

It was Optimus’ vents’ turn to whir slightly aloud as he sat up, analyzing his companion’s stand. Since Megatron had joined his cause, there had always been an immense show of struggle from him, never shown to anyone but to Optimus and they had often ended in deep conversations. The fact they had known each other since before the war wasn’t anything new, although very few knew they went back way before anyone could imagine. They came online together, grew up together, worked together before something catastrophic forced them to take paths so different and so apart they almost forgot what they shared deep within and forced them one against the other…

But Optimus had never let go of that thin thread they were connected to and they both had to thank that simple thing that they now both sat next to each other, playing an ancient cybertronian game in peaceful times.

Optimus took his five most powerful pieces on the board and moved them back, “The Primes have forgiven you…” and then moved one of them, the counterpart of Megatron’s, forward, right in front of his. Exposed. Defenseless. “I have forgiven you.”

Megatron looked at that piece in front of his. How easy would have been to simply conquer it. A painful quick move was all it was needed and the game would have been over. Yet Megatron wouldn’t make a win move. He couldn’t.

Something deep in his mind emerged, a memory he thought lost to time, when neither Optimus nor himself looked the way they did now. They hands looked so small in his memory, delightfully moving pieces on the board for joors in animated and often illogical battles, having their fun in their own personal bubble, until neither of them wanted to win or lose causing the game to end.

He looked up at Optimus only to be met by hopelessly hopeful, warm optics and a gentle hint of a smile, so brutally pure and honest it dissipated all the primordial rage Megatron felt within a soft gasp.

“… you were always a fool, Pax.” His piece was gracefully moved on the side of Optimus’, making it a voluntary draw.

His companion’s audial antennas twitched at that name, which for so long hadn’t escaped Megatron’s lips. Unexpectedly, Optimus’ hand carefully moved over the other bot’s before he could move it out of reach, now both pieces under their palms. “Why so?” He asked ever so gently.

Megatron’s optics fell on their hands for a moment, “Because you stubbornly want to fix what is unfixable and find what is impossible to grasp.”

“And yet… you proved yourself again and again in the last years, more than you imagine. You honored the chance you were given, Megs, you kept all your promises,” the grey cybertronian seemed to relax, his shoulders weren’t kept as tightly, gently lowering. At this point, Optimus had unperceptively moved his seat around the small table, leaning closer. “And I’m proud to think I kept mine,”

Megatron’s index moved just slightly, rubbing against Optimus’, and the Prime promptly ventured in slowly entwining their fingers, “And… what would it be?” He whispered, finding himself dangerously leaning closer.

Optimus inadvertently took a sharp in-vent, “I found you again, Dee.” And seeing how Megatron still slowly kept leaning in, he eagerly closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together.

-

Megatron remembered well that night about a decade ago and still wondered if it’s been the best thing he had ever done or the most stupid. The memory of their kiss starting gentle, shy, exploring and daring… to quickly transform into something more passionate, intimate, reclaiming a primitive desire they both shared and ignored for eons and eons. The last thing he recalled was that at some point Optimus pressed him hard against the wall and he had playfully called him a “goddamn son of a glitch”.

They had one of the most honest, deepest talks they ever shared that night, but especially profoundly personal. For once they forgot the world around them, they forgot who they were, they forgot who they’ve become. They felt again like simple cybertronians on their home planet, living their lives like civilians… one studying to be a Major Archivist, the other working as a Safety and Security Supervisor.

The rest was history…

Optimus finally took word on the small stage, his arms open wide and welcoming, his tone as cheerful and fatherly as ever, eagerly giving his speech to the newcomers in Witwicky. Only that morning they had about two hundreds new members, among them humans and Terrans alike, and only two cybertronians.

“Now that each of you has been given all your new documentation and a dutiful guide, please all take note of your new locations.” Only 26 members were staying in Witwicky, the others were going to be distributed towards the nearby provinces. “Each of you will be located to one of our Villages, where you’ll be provided anything you may need from services and guidance, whichever you stay here only temporarily or for a long period. Feel absolutely free to contact your tutors for any problem or change you’ll face anytime,”

Megatron was proudly standing silently a few steps behind him, arms behind his back and attentively listening to his partner. Or so it seems, but in reality he was barely listening to anything around him, his thoughts were deep into memories of Optimus and himself, triggered by the memory of their first kiss, which lead to something more… private. Indeed, Megatron showed an immense self-control, giving nothing to view. The only little thing that he allowed to be out of line was where his optics landed. There was an almost invisible sign on Optimus’ back, visible only to whoever knew it was there. Megatron had to admit doctor Sharpenclaw had done an incredible job in hiding those signs and he almost emitted a snort remembering how embarrassed OP was. On the other hand, Megatron took pride of his handiwork.

He too had to hide a few signs left by Optimus and for some reason his were almost all focused on his neck.  

His train of thoughts was lost as Elita-1, who was standing at his right, leaned closer still facing the audience. “How long has he practiced this?” She whispered, half grinning. Optimus had started his long discourse on the history of Witwicky and its importance to Terrans.

Megatron leaned closer to answer with a voice just as low. “I haven’t recharged in five days if that answers your question.”

Elita bit her lips, “Was it really because of him rehearsing or something else, Megs?”

“Keep the sass for the youngsters, E-1.” He did show he was trying to not laugh.

“Oh, here it comes the part where he struggled the most… Will he fumble?” Megatron gave her a look as if to say Think again, and signed with his optics to look at the Prime. Surprisingly Optimus continued his speech uninterrupted, smoothly checking his left arm where he scribbled a series of words with a sharpie. That didn’t escape Elita’s keen sight and looked at Megatron surprised, “Was that your idea?”

The grey bot scoffed, “Who else? But the… unorthodox execution is all his.”

“Millions on his aft and he still has to memorize a discourse.”

“Never had, never will.” His lips curled in a fond smile, “But he’s always been a great improviser.”

They kept listening for a few more moments until they both recognized another bit where his memory would tumble. And Elita gently elbowed Megatron pointing with her chin way behind the crowd. And as if summoned, Bumblebee, Breakdown and Twitch held out a big banner with written three long lines which Optimus promptly read out loud, even showing some emphasis which effortlessly kept the crowd’s attention. Once he was done, Twitch high-fived first BD then Bee and the banner was quickly rolled up and hidden.

Megatron arched a brow towards Elita, “Idea of yours?” He pursed his lips, nodding impressed, “Not bad. Not bad, at all,”

After the introduction discourse, the crowd was moved into the main hall where a little refreshment awaited them before being finally distributed to their final destinations. Arcee, Schloder and Bumblebee took over for directing and answering any questions the many newcomers had, while Optimus, Megatron and Elita moved to the transportation gates for a final check on the lists. Optimus was still gingerly beaming with satisfaction since his discourse, all this event was kept monthly –aside from emergency transfers of personnel- and he really cared to give a good impression on every youngster who arrived at Sp.Ark. HQ. Also, Megatron had told him he did an amazing job and gave him a warm pat on the shoulder.

Megatron’s intercom rang as he gave OP the last lists and he raised a finger to his audial to answer. “Doctor,”

“Sir, I just got an hour spot cleared if you want to see me earlier.”

“I’ll be right over.”

“Hm? What is it?” Optimus asked, curiously.

“My appointment has been brought forward, I’ll see the doctor now.”

“But… you’ll miss the departures,”

“Better meet Sharpenclaw when he’s in a good mood before I risk losing an arm as I enter his office.”

Optimus thought about it for half a second and agreed, “Want me to come with?”

Megatron scoffed in a smile, “No need to hold my hand, I’m a big bot.”

“I’m a big bot too, but I’d love having my hand hold when facing our doctor.”

Barely holding a chuckle in, Megatron patted his arm and turned on his heels, “I’ll see you later.” And headed towards the medibay.

Once he was out of earshot, Elita and OP shared a look.

“He’s up to something,” The Prime sighed, serious. “I’ve been wondering for a while.”

“Want me to tail him, plant spy-chips all over the corridors, hack the cameras and find out what he’s scheming?”

“Elita…”

She shrugged, grinning. “Sorry, old habit,”

The medibay was surprisingly busy that morning, lots of nurses and surgeons of any kind walking about in a hurry, yet all quickly cleared the way as the big frame of Megatron walked down the corridor. Dr. Sharpenclaw’s office was at the very end, his door open. The head-doctor signed him to get in and get a seat.

“So, what can I do for you, sir?” He quickly brought up Megatron’s medical profile on his screens. As always, the doctor looked irked, but Megatron knew well that was just his neutral expression.

“It’s rather a delicate affair, my request,” Megatron opened his gauntlet compartment, extracting a rather small glass vial and ever so gently placing it on the doctor’s desk, “I need this filled.”

Sharpenclaw, for the first time in decades, was left speechless, taken aback… He collected the fragile looking object in his hands and thoroughly analyzed it, his eye enhancer stretching out like a reversed spyglass. Immediately, he deducted the material it was composed of, realizing nothing -and he really meant nothing- on this forsaken little rock would be able to even scratch the little bottle, giving it an importance unseen on Earth. The little transparent object was simple in its design, yet the details showed a design only seen on ancient Cybertron. “Where did you get this?” His enhancer retracted as the doctor looked up at the other cybertronian.

“I made this. A very… very long time ago.”

“…Remarkable.” He sighed, placing it again on the desk. “Filled you say…” The hard expression on the doctor’s face suddenly melted away, a rare smile appeared on his old features. “And I thought romance was dead among our kind and surely wasn’t expecting this kind of gesture from you, sir. Does he know?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course.” The doctor straightened on his seat, “Yet, at least.” He turned to the interphone, pressing a button.

“Yes, doctor?” A young man’s voice came through.

“Kevin, cancel all my appointments for the next six hours, reassign them to surgeons, interns and analysts, make them work for once.” He ordered in his usual harsh tone.

“…Yes, doctor.” His young assistant had worked with Sharpenclaw for years and well knew his temperament, well knowing to not take offence by his rough way of talking, although that request left him a bit surprised.

“Follow me, sir, to my private OR.” He said getting on his feet and heading towards a side door.

There was a small anteroom after that, where both cybertronians stood still, waiting. They heard the door behind and the door in front of them lock and the space around them heavily pressurized. They barely felt the change, but it would have been deadly to an organic (there were strong security systems to avoid any kind of accident). Four little devices, one in each corner, emitted a light forming a square, which quickly dropped to the floor and back up to the ceiling, scanning the two cybertronians. Once sterilized, they were accepted in the OR, the anteroom depressurized and the locks on the second door were lifted. The lights came on as the doctor entered the big room and invited Megatron to sit on the chair in the middle. Once done, the chair automatically leaned back and raised higher so the doctor could have easy access to Megatron’s chest.

Sharpenclaw sat next to him on a stool and a hovering console was moved closer to him, a few holo-screen popped into view above it. He did a lot of typing, it was mostly a detailed statement of the operation he’d perform, some info on the patient and checking on Megatron’s health in general. “I’m surprised you haven’t been sick in many decades. Incredible constitution, sir.”

“I guess with age, I just become rougher.”

“More stubborn for sure.” The doctor dared a huff of vents, amused. Megatron let it slide, he wasn’t that far off from the truth. “I’ve never performed this operation on Earth. It has been… quite a while.”

“Do you still remember how to do it?” Megatron grinned, only to receive a truly deadly glare, to which he huffed, just as amused.

“You’ve always been my favorite patient, sir. Don’t lose that privilege. And trust me,” at that point the computer asked strict permission for accessing the machinery needed and a slot opened in the console. The tiny bottle was uncorked and placed into it upside-down, then the doctor raised his right hand and five incredibly long and thin needles protruded from his fingertips. He rotated the hand, aiming the tips into the slot, around the bottle, and he securely pushed the needles in deeply, to be read and access to a key control, being so granted to operate. “I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s why you’ve always been my favorite doctor.” Megatron affirmed, almost cheekily.

Sharpenclaw scoffed, half annoyed. “Brave of you to say that while under my tools, sir.” He retracted his needles and four long tentacles emerged from his back, curving around his frame in an <S> shape, two from above and two from below. A few panels from the ceiling and from the floor opened and a series of mechanical arms appeared holding different tools, all looking specific for one single job, being sharp and precise. “Now open up, if you please.”

Megatron obliged, the plates of his chest opened, layer after layer, to finally exposing his Spark chamber. Sharpenclaw was quick to lean forward, eye enhancer stretched to the limit to analyze all, from the most miniscule connections to the tightest micro-panel to remove. Unfortunately though, there was a need of considering the incredible amount of scarred tissue, which signed Megatron’s inner frame from past battle wounds. Some even tickled the doctor’s memory, those were his handiwork from eons before.

“This might take a little longer than expected. Good thing I have a lot of patience.” He grabbed four tools in total, of which pincers, a lancet and an electric flame tip, and dove in full focus on the main vein of the chamber. He just needed to reach a specific layer of the vein so to puncture it and start the extraction of the Core energon. The doctor worked meticulously, peeling and searching for the right point of the micro-panel, all while Megatron simply did his best to relax. Falling in recharge not an option, the doctor wanted his patients awake the whole time, alert and communicating anything that felt wrong. Chit-chatting was out of the question as well, unless the doctor specifically asked for it, which was almost never.

“You will feel this,” he announced before piercing through and Megatron struggled to not flinch.

What was a relatively standard procedure of fifteen minutes, it got dragged on for almost one hour, as the doctor painfully had to restart three times because he kept finding scar tissue that he couldn’t in any way work on. He was almost mesmerized about how the deeper he went, the more old wounds he found. He even took a two-minute break, daring to suggest extracting an easier kind of Inner energon. It wasn’t due to the difficulty, but the doctor never liked having a patient being operated on so close to their Spark for too long.

“I cannot, doctor. Not this time.”

Sharpenclaw looked straight into Megatron’s optics and nodded in a sigh, showing a kind of compassion he never shared. “The things one does for love…”

As the doctor returned to his quest, Megatron blinked at him surprised to hear those words, but unexpectedly he felt the corners of his mouth curl in an agreeing soft smile.

“Quite an amount of these scars of yours are new to me. I never operated on you so deeply.” He said after a very long period of silence.

“Wounds from before the war, doctor. From the Pit.”

Sharpenclaw’s expression changed from a deep frown to a worrisome look. Not many knew of Megatron’s past, but he was aware he had been sold to be a gladiator after the announcement of the new Prime, trapped on a far moon of Cybertron. Whoever had left those wounds on his patient, they really aimed for his death. He continued his work without any further ado. 

Eventually, Sharpenclaw emitted a relieved sigh, victorious even, when he finally reached the right layer. He froze the tools in position to keep the layers of the vein open just enough and a new arm appeared directly from the console, stretching a thin tube with a needle on the tip. The doctor typed commands and the arm moved with uncanny precision into the layers, aiming for a specific micro-capillary. Megatron in-vented sharply as the tube started pulling. A bright white liquid colored the thin vector, filling the whole length until it reached the bottle.

“After this I highly suggest to recharge for at least 30 hours.”

“I’ll gladly do it, doctor.”

Sharpenclaw turned around to face him, “It was a memo for me, sir.” He scoffed. “I’ll keep you constantly monitored though.” The extraction continued easily. Megatron naturally felt weaker, but it was manageable to not fall into recharging.

“You know, sir… I was reminded of what Windchaser had done for me.” Megatron tilted his head, listening carefully and keeping a respectful silence. He knew of the doctor’s conjunx, about how he died in the war to save a soldier called Starscream. “The fool had confessed to me with a Core energon offer. He looked excited, bright tired smile and all. I did accept his offer of course, but you know what else I did? I locked him out of our personal quarters for days.” He failed to hide a smile. “The sheer courage he had to go to another doctor to have his energon extracted,”

“The audacity, doctor.”

“Indeed,” Sharpenclaw turned around to face the screen, unable to hide the sadness in his voice, “the audacity.”

“… How long have you been together?”

“21 millennia as partners. 473 millennia as conjunxes.”

“An honorable amount of time, doctor.”

“I won’t deny it.” He cut short, still facing the screen for a long while, before finally turning to him. “Seeing your gesture, it makes me optimistic. Of all people, you were the one I would have bet against, sir.”

“I’m aware I don’t look like the romantic type.”

“No, you don’t.  And despite having been working for you for so long, it’s still incredible to think it, especially with Optimus Prime if you allow me to add that detail.” He shifted on his seat, clearing his throat. “Although I won’t deny that your doing today is a form of long lost art we all should be valuing. It does give hope to our kind, to… what’s left of us.
Do cherish it. A conjunx life is a marvelous thing.”

Megatron solemnly nodded, “I will, doctor. You have my word.”

Chapter Text

Thrash walked in the back of the group like a beaten dog… He hated how his introduction went… After seeing how professional both his dad and sibling were, he, for some reason, just literally coughed his name out to the new teacher and he could bet he looked like a goddamn idiot… Although Atlan was very polite and he had a nice accompanying smile with his own introduction. After that, he was fully abducted by both Alex and Nightshade and for the moment Thrash was glad.

After Optimus’ discourse, the trio was in deep conversation about academy themed stuff, on how Alex would show him around the structure to meet the whole teacher committee , visit the different labs and the little museum and Nightshade would give him all the materials necessary on his classes and a detailed document with notes about all their students. Thrash couldn’t help but chuckle on how deep down his sibling was a sort of maniac of control.

When they finally got out of the bus (a slightly taller one than a bus only for humans, with seats and room adapted to Terrans and readjustable space for humans and smaller frames. Cybertronians avoided public transport, following in alt-mode was way much preferred), they found themselves in a medium sized parking lot inside the borders of a Village. These complexes had been built within a few years since the second wave of Terrans and were a sort of hub for whoever started an internship or working in the area after being registered through Sp.Ark. offices or branches. It had a series of accommodations that would smartly adjust to any kind of occupant -or occupants- and had always a central plaza with essential stores and services.

Right after the entrance there was a small open area with a tiny kiosk in the middle next to a detailed map, but Alex knew the place incredibly well and knew exactly where to take Atlan by simply looking at his apartment number. Although, they didn’t lose much time in checking the apartment, Atlan just dropped his bags and he seemed ready to have a full tour of the town before work. Despite showing a good composure, there was a little flame of eagerness in his optics and he seemed ready to roll his wheels.

“Well, it’s almost lunch time and there’s a lovely place where we could go!” Alex chimed in, excited, “Just let me text Hashtag, maybe she can join us earlier,” The original plan was to have her pick them up after the Village tour and leaving Atlan to settle in. “And let us not stay too long though, because a certain owl chick should be at home! Right, professor-on-sick-leave?” He looked at Nightshade with a scolding frown, “If your mother finds us out I’ll be sleeping with Fluffy Ears for a week.”

[…]

“Oh! So this Fluffy Ears is a cow! I thought she was your dog!” Atlan exclaimed excitedly, almost topping over his drink, “So you have a ranch,”

“Oh, no no no, she’s the cutest cow ever!” Hashtag promptly showed him a long slideshow of pictures of the animal in question she took over the years, since she was a little adorable calf until now being a huge adorable walking beef. “She’s our mascot at home! And she had her third baby last spring, look how cute they are, he’s all like his mom!”

Alex gingerly patted her arm, “Honey, don’t overwhelm him with all of those photos!”

Atlan laughed, honestly loving to see each of them, “I don’t mind at all! My family has a ranch too down in Texas and we used to have a cattle station back in Australia, I’m used to all kind of animals,”

“…Station?” Nightshade blinked confused.

“It’s what we call a big ranch down under.” 

“What kind of animals do you have?” The lady Terran asked, excitedly.

“Buffalos,” Atlan winked.

Alex laughed, “Our ranch isn’t a big thing, a few cows, a few horses, a cute donkey and some chicken. And three cats!”

“That’s still a lot! How do you manage, you said you all work,”

“We have two helpers who come every day and we take turns when we can. Doesn’t seem like it, but my kids here are all very busy!” Alex proudly pulled in Hashtag and Thrash grabbing them by the arms and giving them a good shake, “They have grown too fast!”

“Dad, please, don’t cry!” Hashtag whined, “If you cry, I cry!”

Thrash quickly freed himself from his grip and scooched a bit further away from the embarrassing scene his dad and sister were causing in the middle of the restaurant…

“And what about you?” Atlan chuckled in Thrash’s direction, his chin leaning on a propped up hand, “What do you do?” There was an odd tone in his words, which were almost purred through a grin.

The ivory Terran was caught off-guard by the direct question, since his introduction he had been uncharacteristically shy, “I… ehm…” He really struggled to keep his vents quiet.

Both Nightshade and Hashtag shared a surprised look and the owl bot promptly came to his rescue, “He’s a park ranger! He works with our mom at the National Park not too far from town,”

“He’s the best ranger!” Hashtag exclaimed aloud, now standing behind her brother, her hands on his shoulders, “There’s no better tracker in the region! The many times this guy saved some poor lost explorer’s sorry butt! Just the other day he pulled out three -and I say three!- people out of a deep canyon all of his own before the helicopter arrived!”

“Ok, ok, cut that out!” Thrash angrily shook her off himself as she laughed, “I just did my job!”

“Fascinating,” Atlan said, impressed, freezing Thrash on the spot, “so you must know the area quite well,”

“I… I do.”

Hashtag and Alex shared a grin and she was on her brother’s shoulders again, “He knows all the best places downtown and all the best viewing points in the park for marvelous panoramic views!”

“He should be your tour guide,” Nightshade chimed in from behind his glass as they took a long sip.

Thrash gave them an incredulous look…

“Indeed, indeed, he’s more suitable than me,” Alex easily agreed while as well having a nice sip from his own drink.

Now Thrash gave his dad an incredulous look…

“So true, so true, he knows all the town’s secrets,” Hashtag patted both his shoulders.

Now Thrash gave his sister a big The fuck you guys doing?! look…

“That could be fun,” Atlan was quick to agree with them all, giving Thrash one toothy devilish smile that made the other Terran’s vents burn up. “I always love exploring a new place. We should plan up.”

“You have class in an hour, correct?” Alex asked.

“Yes, professor.”

“And I’d imagine it’d be wise to let you rest after that. Tell you what, young man, why don’t you join us for dinner tomorrow evening?”

“Right! Everyone’s home for dinner tomorrow!!”  Hashtag said out loud, squeezing Thrash’s shoulders so hard he yelped in pain. “Oh! Sorry…” she whispered at him.

“Meeting all of the gen 1 siblings… that’d be great, I gladly accept!”

“That really makes me happy,” Alex raised his drink to toast, “I shall make something special then and we could plan different tours! And, tell me, is your family in town too? They can come if you like,”

“Ah, no, they remained in Texas for the moment, but my sisters will visit in two weeks, they’ll come and collect me as my task here is done.”

“How many sisters do you have?” Hashtag asked, finally returning to her seat.

“If you asked me that question last year I’d have answered two with a brother being the second born, but today I simply say three. All humans, by the way.”

The Maltos all blinked in confusion before they understood what he meant.

“Oh she transitioned!” Hashtag said.

“She did! And now I’m the only one knight protecting the princesses,” he joked, proudly bringing a fist to his chest, before slumping, “not that they really need any protection… they spectacularly kicked my bully’s ass back in the day… I think he’s still limping today.”

The Maltos heartily laughed and everyone raised their drink to have a little toast.

“Well,” Alex checked his watch, still chuckling, “let’s head to the Academia and go to work.”

-

The chat dial rang in a cacophony of ring tones when finally all the Malto siblings joined the video call Nightshade started.

Mo: “Ehoooo party time!”

Twitch: “Yes yes yes party! Nobody touches Pom Pom, she’s mine!”

Thrash: “Nobody is touching Pom Pom, sis, chill! She’s not that good anyway! NOT AS GOOD AS BOWSER, BABY!”

Twitch: “How dare you, SIR! Take that back!”

Hashtag: “Can we keep this murderous energy for the minigames, please?! EHY, MOVE YOUR SORRY ASS CURSOR AWAY FROM WALUIGI, HE’S MY CHARACTER!”

JB: “Can we just have a relaxing time for once?” He picked Yoshi

Nightshade: “…Wrong game, JB, this is Mario Party.” Birdo was their pick.

Mo: “More like Murder Party!” Dry Bones.

Thrash: “Ehy who’s missing?”

Each looked at their own camera and in unison they sighed aloud a disappointing: “Robbie.”

Their chat immediately got flooded with text messages all directed to their older brother, spamming him with stupid gifs and memes until he joined the call in a rush.

Robbie: “OK OK CUT IT OUT I’M HERE!”

Mo: “Always laaaaaaaate! What’s this time? You set the kitchen on fire again?”

Robbie: “Some people need to do laundry! Ehy, you already started?! I haven’t picked my character yet!”

Nightshade: “Oh, I did that for you.” They smirked while the others giggled.

Robbie: “SPIKE?! What you mean Spike?! Luigi is my boy!! Change it!”

Nightshade: “Sorry, can’t hear you, dear brother.” They loudly sipped from their drink through their adorable curly straw as they picked the board.

Robbie: “Thraaash!”

Thrash leaned back on his seat, appearing in Nightshade’s video call, at their left: “Sorry! Can’t hear ya!”

Robbie: “That’s not fair!”

Twitch: “Serves you right! Now shush and punch the dice!”

The game was set with the highest number of turns and a custom setting –thanks to Hashtag- to have more chaos with minigames and Bowser chances, just to put some more spice into the mix. It didn’t take long for the game to turn into a battlefield, more than usual so to speak.

Mo: “So, how’s the n­ew teach?”

JB: “True! How is he?”

Twitch: “Yeah, you guys told us nothing!”

Nightshade and Hashtag briefly shared a look with one another.

Nightshade: “He’s quite nice! Well prepared on my subject and my students sent me emails saying he was very capable, despite a bit nervous. He’s charming!”

Hashtag couldn’t hide a grin: “AH! Well, someone got charmed alright!”

Thrash suddenly started coughing, really choking on his own drink.

Twitch: “Woah, wait, what you mean?”

JB: “Ehy, T., careful there, you ok?”

Thrash disappeared from his camera for a second, still coughing, but gave his brother a thumb-up.

Robbie: “Some student already has the hots for the sub?”

Nightshade chuckled and patted Thrash’s back: “Well, not exactly a student of mine.”

Finally everyone connected the dots and when Thrash reappeared on his screen, he felt all their eyes on himself and his vents started blaring loudly.

Twitch gasped excitedly, making her voice shriek a bit: “NO WAY!!!”

Mo: “DUDE! Oh my god, this isn’t happening!” She started fanning herself, mirroring Twitch’s enthusiasm.

Robbie: “HAHAHA! YOU?!”

JB: “He must be incredibly handsome, then!”

Thrash to JB: “…He seems interesting.” He didn’t have the courage to look into the camera as he was trying his best to not smile.

Mo: “Our little bro’s heart grew three sizes this very day! He makes me so proud!”

Twitch: “They all grow up so fast! He used to be so small!”

Thrash to Twitch: “WE’RE TWINS! And I’ve always been bigger than you!!!”

Hashtag: “And you should have seen him at the restaurant when we were all out for lunch! Being awkwardly silent and all shy… his vent whirring constantly whenever Atlan talked to him!”

Nightshade: “And the way he talked to him, ah! Such marvelous display of curiosity, he was really loving the idea of having you as his personal guide around town and the park.”

A loud chorus of “OOOHHH!” came from the other siblings, the game momentarily forgotten while Thrash was doing his best to hide his face.

Nightshade: “You should have seen his first impression too,”

Thrash whispered: “Please have mercy of me…” But it had no effect…

Nightshade: “Such a spectacular entrance they both made, crashing into one another in the middle of the documentation office as if you were both magnetized.” They chortled as all the other siblings exploded in a thunderous laughter. “Never seen you tilting so hard,” They squeaked as an arm appeared in their screen and a hand pressed against their face.

Hashtag: “And you’ll never guess it, guys! Tomorrow Atlan will join us for dinner!”

The excited screams coming through the call were so loud to be cut out or transformed into static.

Twitch: “OHHH, you’ll definitively sit together!”

Mo: “I’ll bring the flowers!”

Hashtag: “I’ll create the most romantic playlist on the face of the Earth!”

Robbie: “You can have my most elegant bowtie, T.!”

JB: “I still have some heart shaped cushion somewhere!”

Nightshade: “And I shall make a lot of heart shaped ice cubes!”

Thrash: “You guys are all such little shits!” He really tried to look angry, but he was smiling in his furious blushing.

Chapter Text

“Forgot about me?”

Megatron stopped mid-stretching as he was rolling his shoulder and turned to see Optimus standing at the door, half-smiling. “I tried multiple times.”

Optimus punched the starting button on the wall and entered the training room, the door quickly shutting behind him. “Am I that annoying?” His tone teasing as he approached the other mech.

“Unbelievably so.”

Optimus was now standing mere inches from him, shaking his head, but still smiling. “Shouldn’t you be recharging? If Sharpen sees you here he’d cut off both our arms and legs and build himself a new chair with them.”

Megatron scoffed in a grumble, “I was tired of the pool. I really needed some stretching.” He suddenly froze at the feeling of OP’s hand against his cheek.

“You’re restless, Dee. What is it?” He leaned in and he was glad to see his partner leaning his forehead against his.

“Eh, you worry too much, Prime.”

“Rightfully so!” He pressed a fingertip against his chest.

“Nothing to worry about, trust me on that.”

“Dee…” Optimus gave him a reprimanding look.

“Pax…” Megatron responded with the same tone, just slightly teasing.

The Prime’s antennae dropped back in defeat. “You’re insufferable…”

“Oh, don’t act as if you don’t like it.”

“Come on, Dee, you can tell me things!”

 “Mhm,” He gently grabbed his chin and just as softly pressed his lips against his, “You’ll know in due time. For the time being, care to join me?”

A little puff of smoke escaped from each of Optimus’ shoulder pipes. “In which way do you mean?”

Megatron annoyingly flicked his finger hard against his headcrest to get him to focus. “In training.”

“Oh! Ehm…” He cleared his throat, “Right, right. Of course.”

Summoning a holo-panel from his arm, Megatron set the room course to one of the hardest difficulties, “And you better keep your eyes open or I’ll have to drag you myself back to our room, hopefully in one piece.”

“Is that a promise?”

Megatron gave him a look, fascinated. “Pest. Flirting on the battlefield,”

“Like old times,” He winked and his face plate shlink’d close. “Also, we might not want to be disturbed.” He cheekily set his communication system on Emergency only, which Megatron copied as well.

The simulation promptly started at the right command and pillars quickly grew skyward and the lights died down into a somber darkness, forming a claustrophobic environment. Veins of purple light cracked the walls and crystals morphed in from the rocks, pulsing as if alive. The cave in front of them went deep into the ground and its floor seemed to morph under their feet in small waves under the pressure.

“An energon mine?” Optimus asked confused.

“I didn’t pick this setting… Why didn’t the announcer speak?” He tried to reset the chamber, but only got an update where their goal was at the other side of the cave.

“A new challenge? Wheeljack hasn’t told me anything about it. Maybe it’s a placeholder, still a work-in-progress.” He checked his map and deducted the only way to reset it was to reach the goal. “A rescue mission. Still fun to me.”

Megatron could only shrug and accept the conditions, “I hear many turrets up ahead.” His cannon was ready on his arm, loaded and hot, “Let’s go get them,” He grinned seeing OP’s axe shining bright at his side.

“Let’s go get them,” He proudly repeated and fist bumped him.

---

“So, who won last night?” Dot cheerfully asked while holding out a tray of themed cupcakes, some for humans, some for Terrans.

There was a unison sob of defeat among her kids, “JB…” Only the dinobot seemed to smile proud, ready to receive his treat.

“He demolished us…” Nightshade whined as they were preparing the table in the garden.

“Never tasted defeat so hard like last night…” Hashtag cried as she helped them.

“He stole all my stars…” Robbie added dramatically, “All gone in one swipe.” His expression was a recall to war flashbacks.

“It was bob-omb after bob-omb after bob-omb…” Twitch echoed him, swinging back and forth on her seat.

Dorothy smiled brightly as she gave her sweet-o-saur kid the winner cupcake, shaped as a “?” cube. “That’s my little strategist,”

“Thanks, mom, I learned from the best,” He winked.

“Oh, shush.” She nonchalantly gave Alex, who was lurking around her aiming at the tray, the winner cupcake for humans and he saved it for after dinner.

“Alright, everyone!” Alex announced, clapping his hands, “Our guest will arrive in a short time. Inspection! Table?”

“Check!” They all answered in eager unison.

“Seats?”

“Check!”

“Lanterns? Decorations?”

“Check! Check!”

“Grill? Oven? Quintex treats and pastries? DRINKS?”

“Check!”

Alex wiped a single tear from his eye, touched, “Just like when I had family gathering with my Lolo. Too bad Bee and Breakdown couldn’t join us.”

“Mhm, you know they planned this night out for a while.” Dorothy said and Alex pouted sadly.

An ivory motorcycle was rushing at full speed through the highway, with a young lady riding it and wisely choosing all the shortest routes to reach the Village, though the dashing through other vehicles wasn’t her idea.

“Ah, eager to meet him again?”

That almost caused a screeching halt. “…I just don’t want to be late and make a bad impression.”

 “Relax, we’re early.” Mo suddenly snorted, “I think you already made your first impression when you crashed into him.”

The sound the bike made was incredibly angry.

“Haha, oh come on, don’t be mad at me.” She patted his panels. “Nothing tops Robbie’s prom invitation to Annie.”

Thrash scoffed, half laughing, “Yeah, that was embarrassing. It’s a miracle she’s still with him.”

The siblings laughed it out and took the Village exit.

Right as if summoned, standing in front of the kiosk, Atlan patiently waited. He still looked eager and tightened his backpack’s straps for the nth time to make sure the treats he was going to give the Maltos’ were secured. The ivory bike eventually appeared at the gate and circled around him with a bit too much enthusiasm, enough to lift its back wheel when it stopped. Mo elegantly dismounted and removed her helmet, shaking her puffy hair, and Thrash transformed in a hop, twirling in a quick breakdancing move before landing on his feet.

Atlan blinked impressed before focusing on the human, “Oh, g’d evening! You must be Morgan,” He stretched out a hand to shake it with her, which she energetically shook back.

“Call me Mo! My, I love your rich red, great colors!”

“Atlan. Back at home Down Under, we call it dingo-blood red,” He grinned proudly.

“That’s metal as hell, I love it!”

“Ehy, Dingo, I hope you don’t mind getting that paintjob dirty, man, it’ll be dusty going home,”

“I was born in the outback, Vents, I lived in red dust!” Atlan cheekily answered, thumb thumping against his chest, and the two Terrans shared a toothy challenging smirk, half chuckling.

“Then try to keep up!” With a smooth rotating back flip, Thrash sent his sister up in the air and transformed right before she was on his saddle, making her yelp, and poor Mo didn’t get any time to slap his panels irritated that she had to hold on for dear life and quickly wear again her helmet as Thrash darted at full speed doing a wheelie, made a quick circle around Atlan and sped away backwards facing the red Terran.

Atlan snorted and shook his head, transforming quickly and riding after them, What a cute punk.

“Can you slow down a bit!?!?” Mo roared into their interphone, holding on tighter than she wanted to as Thrash zipped through traffic on the highway.

“How can I slow down with Mr. Aussie right on my backpipe?”

“You’re acting like a jerk, you know that?! We have to guide him home, not lose his tracks! If you want to challenge him do it when I’m not risking slipping off your saddle at each turn!”

Thrash fell silent and considerably slowed down keeping the right lane. “…Sorry.”

Mo took a breather and patted the handlebar, “You’re acting worse than Robby when- WOAH!”

He swiftly did a 180° never losing the momentum and faced Atlan, “Next exit is ours! Follow the road until you see a path branching off on the left! Hard to miss!” Atlan flashed his light twice signing he understood and Thrash did another 180° to readjust himself on the road.

Men… Mo could just sigh.

The dirt path that branched out was immediately disappearing into the forest, but kept being wide enough for a big car to drive through. It zigzagged deep among trees and boulders and went uphill to reach the main road again which took the longer way. They passed a bridge and after a short while the lights of the Maltos’ property could be seen shining through the foliage.

Thrash stopped right in front of the barn, not too far from the table had been set. There was an amazing smell of BBQ and oven-cooked Quintex delicacies, including pastries for later dessert. The area was colorfully decorated with garlands and small flags above the table and in front of the barn the game night games were set for later. A little radio played some good music to set the mood. Mo hopped off him and waited for him to transform to gently punch him in the thigh. He yelped, but laughed not complaining. 

Atlan was half a second right behind them, transforming back on his two feet and catching his backpack as it moved out of his saddle compartment. “Wow, this is so gorgeous! Amazing place!” He was quickly caught in a warm welcome to the Maltos’ establishment and dragged to the center of the area to meet all the remaining family members.

Dorothy was the sweetest and she happily introduced all her children, who in turn approached him with so many honest compliments Atlan didn’t even know how to properly react. Twitch was the most eager to meet him and she was absolutely flattered they shared a slightly similar color scheme. Atlan promptly offered the family his gifts, all products from his family’s ranch, among them a couple of small buffalo cheese wheels, scarves, shirts and metal pins all themed after the bovines. Twitch got a bit too excited over the pins and she was the first one to snatch hers finding it simply too adorable to not have it. He also had Quintex cookies shaped like baby buffalos and Hashtag almost cried for how cute they were and she immediately took pics of them and posted them on her blog.

“Here,” He sneakily plopped a magnetic pin on Thrash’s chest.

Obviously the ivory Terran’s vents puffed for a brief moment and he inspected the gift. “Eh, really cute. Your sisters drew it?”

“Actually I did,” He grinned.

“Oh, you’re an artist!” Twitch overheard him and gasped as she had an idea, “You have to stay for game night then! We’re playing Pictionary!”

“ALRIGHT, EVERYONE!” Alex called their attention slamming two grill utensils together, “Take a seat! Time to eat!”

Without losing any second Nightshade, Hashtag, JB, Twitch, Mo and Robby quickly occupied a spot sending looming stares at their brother, who stood there in half shock. Thrash had to thank them for not pulling any weird romantic shenanigans as they had said the night before, but they had never promised they wouldn’t try giving him a push, so to speak. On the right side in order there was Robby, Hashtag and Twitch, on the left side Mo (opposite to Robby), JB and Nightshade. Twitch looked at Thrash with a feline wide grin and she patted the seat at her left.

“You can sit next to me, Atlan,” Nightshade chimed with a little of enthusiasm.

And so Thrash was trapped sitting facing the Aussie… And worst of all, the parents sat right next to them, Alex at Thrash’s left, Dorothy in front of him. He could feel all his siblings’ eyes on him time to time…

Food was quickly handed all over the table in big plates and bowls and each could pick anything they wanted. Atlan at first was a bit shy to take more than one portion, but soon Dorothy reassured him nobody was going to bed hungry under her watch and he could grab as much as he wanted as there was more in the kitchen.

Conversations were immediately on topics like Atlan’s life, his family, how was he finding himself so far, what did he plan to do after the sub position… mostly work questions, to which he evidently got a bit tired of. He had to admit he didn’t have any true plan after the two week trial, he wanted to actually know if teaching could be his path of choice for a career, so far he liked it, his first days were very positive. He eventually tried to be the one asking questions, wanting to genuinely know about the famous Maltos. All Terrans knew their history, but he wanted to know from the source directly and he wasn’t disappointed.

Despite the perfect setting the siblings had established for their brother, Thrash kept unusually quiet once again, so much even Alex and Dorothy noticed. Atlan was talking to JB and Dot took chance to send a questioning look at Alex with an almost imperceptible tilt of her head as to point at Thrash’s behavior. Alex hid his smile behind his napkin, quickly glanced at Atlan twice to point at him as the reason and wiggled his eyebrows. Her own eyebrows rose in a pleasant surprise, with a face as if to ask Really?, to which he solemnly nodded.

After dinner and getting plates, utensils and leftovers inside, the whole family and guest moved to the game night corner and they had a good list of fun activities. There had to be often teams and for some reason, Thrash thought somebody was cheating when pairing the players because he was in the same team as Atlan for like half of the times. He really didn’t mind, though, Atlan was a very good player. One of the highlights of the evening was surely Pictionary, which it quickly became hilarious due to some people not able to even draw a straight line.

“Is that a rat?”

“A mouse!”

“A very fat CEO,”

Thrash groaned loudly shaking his head and added a weird pair of very big hands on top of whatever creature he drew on the whiteboard.

“A sea lion with very deformed fins!”

Everyone was so lost they were just spewing whatever came to mind and losing it, laughing out loud.

“A flying pig playing cricket with stars because of genies falling in love…?” Alex dared to quote his favorite childhood Disney show.

“A PIG?! WHERE DO YOU SEE A PIG, DAD?!? It’s a DRAGON! A goddamn dragon! The wings! The teeth! The damn fire!!!”

“You were supposed to draw Toothless! How is that Toothless?!?! You hit him on the nose with a pan!!!” Twitch got so angry because it was her prompt.

“And you’re out, honey!” Dot said aloud, trying to not laugh as well.

When Atlan got at the whiteboard he had to draw a cow and, being an artist, not only he nailed it, but he made it so cute that Hashtag wanted to immortalize the drawing on her blog with his permission.

The evening games went on longer than expected for how much fun the whole gang was having and Atlan too felt so at ease he had to be convinced the games were over and he had to return to the Village. He was even offered to stay for the night, but he had class by the morning and seeing how far the Academy was from the Maltos’ place, he preferred to go back, but still thanked them dearly for the offer.

“Ready? I’ll get you home,” Thrash volunteered.

Atlan struggled with the backpack now filled even more than before with extra food and gifts, but managed to not fall. “Oh, right, you’re my personal tour guide after all.” He chuckled, but his balance looked very precarious.

“Ehy, I can carry that, if you want. I have extra room.”

Atlan sighed in resignation, a little help was more than appreciated, so he gave him the tote bag with the food pulling it out from the backpack. “Thanks.”

Dot gave Atlan a quick pinch on the cheek as if he was her son, “At least you won’t starve for a while! Thank you again for coming, it’s been a lot of fun to have you over.”

Atlan laughed, “Thank you all for having me! If you all happen by the ranch, dinner is on me!”

“Come on, let’s go, it’s getting late!” Thrash smoothly transformed popping the bag in his sidecar.

And so they were off with the Maltos wishing their new friend a goodnight.

The ride back to the Village was relatively quiet, both for being tired and stuffed to the brim to even focus on talking. And they both realized they didn’t even exchange their frequency contacts, so they couldn’t even talk on the communicator.

“Well, here we are,” Thrash hopped on his feet catching the bag in mid-air in front of the kiosk.

Atlan tiredly transformed and huffed still feeling a slight sensation of jetlag, after all he had a few hour difference between home and Witwicky.

“Want me to accompany you to your door?” He asked noticing his wooziness.

Atlan straightened his back and smiled at him, “Such a gentlebot, you are. I’d appreciate it.”

Thrash’s vents went hot for a moment until he forced them to shush, clearing his throat. He also volunteered to hold his bag for him until the door.

“Today was a wonderful day for me,” Atlan cheerfully said as they were walking to his apartment, “and ended with a wonderful evening, I had a lot of fun with your family.”

“I’m glad. Very glad. I hope my siblings weren’t too annoying?”

“Not at all and your parents are delightful. Say, you still up for being my guide around town?”

“Sure. And the park too if you’d like.”

“That’s be great, mate. When would you be free?”

“I don’t have a set schedule, I’m never in the office, only my team stays in, I’m often up the mountains patrolling and I’m called when needed.”

“Uh. Say… tomorrow afternoon? I get out of class at 3pm.”

“2:55pm you’ll see me outside the Academy then.”

Atlan couldn’t help but smile at the cheekiness of the other Terran, “May I… eh, get your frequency? In case I need to call you. If… anything changes.” He cleared his throat and offered his arm.

“Oh! Oh, sure,” Thrash raised his and with a smile he shared his frequency having the back of their arms getting in-

“Contact?! Are you sure about it?!”

Megatron let out a gruff groan as Optimus almost impaled his optic with the sterile cotton tip… He had a small wound above it, right under his brow and to avoid Sharpenclaw and his team to know about it, Optimus offered to take care of it as they got in their room. The Prime realized his distraction and mouthed an apology to his companion. He sighed and listened in as a soft clean cloth was then gently pressed on the wound.

Elita sounded incredibly thrilled on the radio, “I have it confirmed by the whole team, OP, you NEED to see it!”

“We’ll be right over,” He closed the call and quickly checked the small damage on Megatron’s brow. “There, there, just a scratch!” He gave it a peck and looked at Megatron while cupping his cheeks, but all he got was a stern stare. “Oh, come on, I said I’m sorry…”

“We’ll talk later.” He closed his eyes and angrily got on his feet, ignoring Optimus’ pout.

They quickly arrived in the underground lab, Optimus entered first, his stand proud as a militant, yet very eager to hear the news. “Update.”

Shockwave was the one to answer, while Soundwave and Elita witnessed in silence. The room was dark, all the secondary screens had been dimmed down and the central one was brightly showing a note from outer space. “The ship has sent out a one-way-protocol message directly to Earth through an enhanced signal. A Prime is required to gain access to its contents.”

Optimus nodded and walked closer to the console to analyze the screen. The message was in clear modern cybertronian.

Sender: QUANTUM LEAPER – Civilian ship

Destination: Planet EARTH – SOLAR SYSTEM – QUADRANT 582-B-9001 – GALAXY TUH-L’L 243-S

“In the highest hope this very message reaches Optimus Prime”

Insert data: ______________________________________________________________________

As if on cue, Optimus inserted a couple of commands and opened his chest, allowing the Matrix to connect directly to the console through a single wire. The code sent to the requesting control-checker immediately granted the system to access to the compressed message. It took not even a fraction of a second to reveal its contents.

           In the highest hope this very message reaches Optimus Prime, the crew and passengers of

           the vessel QUANTUM LEAPER requests a safe-way to reach planet EARTH.

A whole data pack had started downloading, in it a detailed 3D scan of the ship, showing to be an incredibly big vessel equipped with 100 escape pods, 25+500 dormitory rooms, an extremely powerful shield, no (registered) weapons, followed by more info about infirmaries, cargo hold, entertainment halls of different nature.

What followed was a document with the entire vessel’s most technical information which Shockwave and Soundwave promptly compared with their databases. “Quantum Leaper” as a name wasn’t in any of their files, but its previous cruiser name was, being an abandoned vessel from Cybertron. Many optimizations and modifications had been done on the ship to allow it to travel so far from its origin and so fast as well.

A Cybertronian vocal message started:

           “The war is over.

           Cybertron thrives.

           Cities are still being rebuilt. Capitals have been restored and are populated.

           Our mission is to reach planet Earth to reconnect it to Cybertron and bring home any

           Cybertronian left behind.

           We bring engineers, builders, medical professionals. A list of the personnel on board will be provided.

           We bring resources and raw materials, machinery and fuel.

           Anything needed to reconstruct the Spacebridge.”

On the screen a very specific frequency number appeared.

           “Use this very frequency to respond and allow us to know you received our message, Optimus.

           Allow us to travel closer to our destination and soon we’ll be in reach for a direct call.

           I’m looking forward to it.”

The name of the captain appeared at the very end, but Optimus –who listened in stunned silence- didn’t need to read it to know who it was.

“Ratchet…”

Chapter Text

“Look at him, he still has to stay still a moment.” Twitch warmly giggled as she gently wrapped her arms around Nightshade’s shoulders, leaning her chin on top of their head, very careful to not lean too much weight on them.

It was a few minutes past 3am and the two siblings were the only ones left in the bunker, while their brother had taken a walk outside. All the other siblings had returned to their own places, only Twitch had remained behind wanting to help Thrash taking care of Nightshade and keeping them company a little longer.

The owl bot raised their eyes from their screens to look up at the camera monitors on the wall where they could see Thrash up the trail right next to the ranch. He was pacing up and down, looking way more into high gears than necessary, more energetic than he’s been in a while and his siblings noted immediately as he returned home after leaving Atlan at the Village. “It’s been months since we’ve seen him like this, hasn’t it?”

“Annnnd he’s doing another lap.” They heartedly laughed and Twitch buzzed in midair, but not letting go of Nightshade. “We should join him, some fresh air would do you some good too.”

“Just let me finish here and we can go,” In the last few hours Nightshade had delightfully discovered they were granted a partial access to the archives from work, although there was no live feed of the progress from their team, only reports of the previous days. They looked incredibly overjoyed to see new data and the fact there was a confirmation the ship they had viewed on the radar was indeed cybertronian really excited them.

“Shade, it’s the fifth time you read it, come on, off we go, up your feathery butt! It’s not going anywhere for sure, Thrash might!”

Considering their brother’s happy mood outside, Nightshade had to agree with her and disconnected, giving full priority to Thrash. “You’re right, you’re right,” They carefully got on their feet and Twitch kissed their cheek before hovering fast to the door. “Admit it, though, you want me to join you outside so you can keep an eye on me,”

“Pfffft! No, what are you saying! I’d totally trust you being left alone in the vague hope you won’t sneak out in the middle of the night again hoping to get answers on why Megatron couldn’t grant you full access already,” By the end of her talking, she was staring them down with crossed arms.

A metal feather ear-crest jolted in annoyance, “…Touché, sister, touché.” Nightshade clicked their tongue and the elevator moved up.

Thrash was in fact on his 16^th lap of the ranch, going full speed and even drifting on curves. Rare annoyed moos called him out when he made too much noise, but he still tried to not bother the animals. With a final wheelie, he rotated just before the gate of the ranch under the trees and transformed, ending his solo race in a dust cloud, although he was so tired he just landed on his rear, panting, his vents whirring loudly as he leaned back on his hands, but he had a bright smile printed on his faceplate. He waited a couple of minutes and off he went again speeding following the railing.

A loud rumble met him halfway, a very familiar engine sound followed by another just as loud and familiar engine revving up. The far racecars screeched on the road next the train tracks and sharply turned into the field, and Thrash blinked his light at them, speeding up to meet them.

The white car with colored stripes caught the smaller bike in a circle before quickly transforming and grabbing him in his arms, “Look if it isn’t my favorite three-wheeler!” A vicious noggie attack was unleashed on the poor young Terran, who promptly squirmed and protested aloud, “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?!”

“Breakdown! Let go of me!!!” Thrash kicked and wiggled as much as he could, but Breakdown only squeezed him tightly until Bumblebee arrived and scowled him with a look, only then he was released and given a big smack on the back.

“Ehy, Thrash! All in one piece?”

The Terran stretched his back “Hi, Bee!” and felt something pop, “Ugh, hopefully yeah,”

“It’s been a while!” Breakdown beamed, “how you doing? Training for a race out here and we weren’t told about?”

“Ah! No, no, I’m not racing, just feeling a bit hyper!”

Breakdown grinned, “Need a coach then, little mech?” He took stance raising his fists, which Thrash mirrored, and threw a couple of punches which got expertly dodged or parried, “Still remember what I taught you, uh?”

Thrash grinned back and within a very fast dodge to the right, he quickly climbed on BD’s shoulder and locked him in tight grip with his legs around his neck and blinded him with his arms, “Also what Bee taught me!”

“Cut it out you two before you get hurt…” Bee often felt like he had sparklings to take care of when in company of those two, but he was still chuckling.

An excited gasp caught their attention, “Breakdown! Bee!” And a drone lady was immediately glued to BD’s red cheek, “So happy to see you home! How did it go? Who won?”

“Me!”

“Me!”

The bots both exclaimed excitedly before glaring one another for the affront.

“What on Earth are you saying! I won!” Bee retorted, thumb bumping against his chest.

“You wish, slowpoke!” He helped Thrash down on the ground, “I finished 13 milliseconds before you!”

“In what reality, BD?! I could see you in my mirrors!”

“Because you were going backwards for how slow you were!”

Thrash took a deep breath letting the mechs bicker and, realizing something, he nonchalantly pulled Twitch down by the foot to have her audial closer, “Did you just leave Nightshade alone?”

“They promised to stay nice and still at the gate while I fetched you,” Despite what she told them earlier, she still wanted to give them a chance.

“And you fully believe that?”

Twitch’s smile though slowly transformed into a tight flat line as she bit her lips… within a twist in the air she turned into a drone and sped back at the gate. The puff of dust she raised caused the two bigger mechs to stop their bickering and Thrash gingerly told them to just follow him home.

The little drone zoomed fast through the air and the trees, though was very relieved to see Nightshade where she left them, waving at her with their left wing.

“You thought I’d run away?” They chuckled seeing her so anxious as she transformed.

“With you there’s always a chance, dear sib,” She gave them a good look from head to toe and she could feel them sweating, so to speak, “You’re not where I left you.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“You moved 5 inches away from the barn!”

Shade’s crest points lowered back as sign to start panicking, only to spring up right at the sight of Bee and Breakdown, “Oh look who’s here, hiiiii!” They gulped dry.

“Primus almighty! I was told you got hurt, but woah look at you!” Breakdown carefully leaned a big hand on their good shoulder, “Are you alright, kid?”

“Stiff, but good,” they patted his fingers.

Thrash snorted, “I’d be more worried about Schloder’s van,”

“Ehy! I promised I’d fix it as soon as possible!” Nightshade pouted.

Breakdown blinked, “Did you demolish the van…?!”

“Oh yeah, reduced to a pulp.” Thrash answered instead, laughing.

Bee suddenly tapped Breakdown’s shoulder signing he was going to answer a call and took a few steps back for privacy. It was odd that OP called him at such hour…

Breakdown hissed through his teeth, “Good old Sharpenclaw fixed you, uh? You’re lucky you only got two weeks, once he locked my back tire for a month after a mission back in the day.”

“And they’re pushing their luck constantly!” Thrash huffed, slightly angry, “Resting at home, my rear pipe, always trying to g-”

“What you mean there’s been a contact?!”

Everyone turned to stare at Bumblebee.

All at once, Bee and Breakdown both received an Emergency meeting notification from Optimus:

Major event – Meeting in the lab 19-84 – 0330h

and Nightshade gained full remote access to his work at Sp.Ark. HQ with a little note from Tarantulas saying:

For both my and your sanity, return to work, I know you’re getting bored and I’m tired of your emails!!!

PS: Sharpenclaw will have my head for this…

The two cybertronians looked at each other in confusion and alarm.

Bee had closed the call before receiving the notification, “If it was bad, he’d have said so,” He reassured. “It’s big though,”

“I gained full access finally! I can see what’s happening from my lab,” Nightshade confirmed after checking their gauntlet controls.

“Do check then, Breakdown and I will go to directly there.” He quickly transformed, “Let’s get an update later!” And off he went with Breakdown in fast pursuit.

The Terrans returned fast in the bunker.

“What kind of contact you think we got, Bee?”

“Optimus didn’t share, but I have the feeling it’s the ship that has been sighted a few days ago.”

“Was it like… at the very corner of the map? How is it possible they contacted Earth from so far away?”

“Beats me…”

The two cars sharply halted at the main staff gate of the huge building, transforming to walk in, when they heard the blaring sound of a jet. It did a wide vertical loop to lose enough speed to transform in the air and elegantly land with a loud thump in the field not too far off. Starscream straightened up and approached the gate as well, giving the duo a cold look.

“A homecoming, I see.”

“So it seems,” Breakdown grinned at him.

“Are you alone? Where are the others?” Bee looked concerned for a second.

“Nova Storm and Skywarp remained at the Nest. It’s been a very rough week.” In fact, Starscream himself looked quite exhausted and irritable, “I hope it’s quick,” he grumbled passing through the gate pretty much stomping, “can’t wait to recharge for a month.”

Bee and Breakdown shared a look, smirking.

“Quite a beauty sleep, he needs.” BD whispered in a Yoda voice.

Bee forcefully pushed him in, trying to not laugh.

Many things had changed in the ten years period and the Seeker’s situation was quite a cherry on top. At first had been a rough reconciliation, especially between Starscream and Megatron, but with a lot of patience, work and many meetings, things seemed to end up neutral between the two, although there was always a little chance that things could get tense if any of the two was not in the right mood. For the sake of everyone, it was mutually decided to have neither of them working in the vicinity of each other. Optimus guaranteed Starscream, Nova Storm and Skywarp a place they could call their own, where they wouldn’t ever be disturbed, and so the Seekers Nest was built up in the highest mountains of the area.
Yet, as things tend to do with time, big changes soon approached with the arrival of new Terrans seeking guidance and Nova Storm and Skywarp were the first to eagerly volunteer to help as they could. As eventually foreseen, a good number of Terrans had found their path up in the sky and, despite the big help of the cybertronians present on the planet, no one would be a better tutor than a Seeker for whoever transformed into a jet, a plane or anything similar. For whoever wanted to dominate the skies, they needed a true master of flight.
It didn’t take long for Starscream to start craving being useful as well, mostly out of boredom and wanting a new purpose in his life. Times had drastically changed and he needed to adapt. He had a lot of thoughts since his revival years prior and the speech Optimus Prime gave afterward made him revalue some principles… and he too, like Megatron, had struggled to understand why certain Decepticons were given a second chance… Since then, he had promised himself to give his life a new meaning, a fresh restart, to find a way to earn the forgiveness for all the evil he had done, which honestly speaking it was equal to Megatron’s, if not in very rare occasions even worse. His desire for power and control still boiled inside him and he had seen how his manipulative ways still surfaced in just his way of being, yet he received a big help to find a balance thanks to a couple of medics that later joined his own base. Things ended being easier to manage with time, the Seekers Nest became quite busy with activities and Starscream found his own role that gave him the importance he wanted and the happiness he needed.
He indeed –and naturally- had become the leader of the Nest, literally taking under his wings the young ones seeking guidance to become a true ace of the sky and eventually find their own path in life.
He’d never admit though how he was fondly seen by the Terrans and how much he actually cared for them, becoming among them a true fatherly figure. He knew about the nicknames they gave him, such as “Papa Eagle” or “Papa Jet”, yet he always seemed to ignore them when he overheard, but a small smile could appear on his faceplate on rare occasions. Though he had a reputation to maintain.
Huge thanks were due to someone in particular, a certain internet-crazed purple Terran with whom Starscream truly developed a deep unexpected friendship. Hashtag had showed him quite a way to form an honest bond, she truly made him feel special in a way he hasn’t felt in hundreds of millennia and he was proud to call her his friend. At some point she even offered to call him simply “Uncle Star”… he didn’t oppose to it. There was once he offered her to join the Nest changing her alt-mode, but unfortunately it didn’t work out since she found it very uncomfortable and heights scared her, so whenever she wanted to visit she’d either go the classic ground way or would take a ride. Starscream was extremely disappointed… but he respected her choice.

Starscream kept the doors of the elevator for Bee and Breakdown and the trio silently went deep down underground. As they descended, a little detail didn’t escape Bumblebee’s eye: Starscream –who was standing in front of him- was keeping his wings low and they were almost imperceptibly twitching. It was no secret he hated being in Sp.Ark. HQ, even more underground. In a moment of unexpected compassion, Bee desired to comfort him, but he didn’t even manage to raise his hand that he felt an icy glare piercing him. Starscream said nothing, but walked out fast of the elevator as soon as the door opened. Breakdown noticed his attempt and simply patted Bee on the arm.

The room was crowded with cybertronians… Elita, Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave, Grimlock, Arcee, Tarantulas… there were a few assistants led by Wheeljack, a few medical team members led by Sharpenclaw… a soft yet apparently excited murmur invaded the lab.

Optimus was the only one standing in the middle next to the main central console. “Bee, Breakdown, I’m glad you made it. Same to you Starscream, your presence is a good sign. Where are your sisters, though?”

Starscream only made a simple brief nod at the Prime, “Apologies, your leadership, they couldn’t make it.” A sharp look was quickly sent towards Megatron, who responded with only a blank expression.

“Hm. I will leave you then to update them.” He turned to Wheeljack, “Is that everyone?”

“Of all who answered the call, yes, OP.”

Optimus nodded and straightened up, “We’ll send a major update to all the others after a meeting with the Representative Council then. Very well,” Silence heavily dropped in anticipation, “good evening everyone, we thank you all for coming to such a short notice, but we have news that is of absolute interest to our kind here on Earth.

A few days ago a signal from deep space has been intercepted and within a short time we realized it was a Cybertronian ship. A few hours ago we received a message. It was explicitly directed at the presence of a Prime to be able to open it and to everyone’s surprise, the sender is my old friend Chief Medical Officer Ratchet.” A louder murmur rose, especially from former Autobots, excited and surprised. Even some former Decepticon gasped in astonishment, like Sharpenclaw who studied and initially worked with the medic eons ago.

“Ratchet?!” Bee called out, “So it means…?!”

Optimus caught his train of thoughts and raised a hand to silence the room, “As all of you know, with the end of the war 25 local years ago, we lost the only connection to our homeworld and its fate has been oblivious since that day. We all thought we had lost friends and family back then, abandoning them on a dead planet, forcing the ones with the rare resources to take out to space.” He puffed out his chest proudly and his tone of voice changed in triumphant, “But I want to relieve all of you from such dark thoughts as we got a final confirmation that Cybertron thrives! Many of the main cities have been rebuilt, many civilians have returned home and Ratchet himself is bringing here on planet Earth a huge team to rebuild the spacebridge and give us all the chance to return home!”

A loud cheer escaped the majority of the presents, but who had previously identified themselves about the Decepticons, despite being thrilled to go home, they all somewhat showed concern. Both Optimus and Megatron had expected so and the ex-leader of the Decepticons took a step forward. “I’m aware why many of the present aren’t cheering as loudly as some others, yet I can assur-”

“You can assure what, Megatron?” Starscream hissed venomously aloud, “Surely you won’t think that mechs like such myself AND yourself would be openly welcomed back on Cybertron! The moment we and the majority in this room -from both sides, may I add- take a step on the planet we’d be executed!”

Megatron silently stared at him recognizing a mood it’d be better not to face and Optimus stepped between them promptly before some of the present mechs started panicking.

“We are not currently updated on the political situation on Cybertron, but you ALL have my word as a Prime that you are all under my protection.” He firmly stated, “I’ve seen every single one of you proving to me they’ve been able to change for the better. Every. Single. One of you.” His index stomped on the console to underline, “I want this to be clear, I will vouch for every cybertronian on this planet the moment I’ll face any new political figure on Cybertron and I’ll guarantee safety under my name.” He directly looked at Starscream with a stern yet hopeful look which seemed to stun momentarily the Seeker. The smaller mech blinked, bowed his head and said nothing else.

That averted, Optimus continued with a more optimistic tone, “As for the time being, we were only able to exchange messages twice with the ship and I’ll be honest, it’s a mystery on how they’re able to reach us, by Soundwave’s calculations, the ship is way too far to be able to communicate with us. They are using a boosted frequency we’re unable to replicate, only their side is able to receive our messages through a specific path we were given. It is very limiting in content and it takes a long time to download. Our next exchange will be a complete list of the crew, which should arrive any minute now.” He didn’t even finish the last syllable that a beep of an incoming message chimed in the room, which Soundwave accepted from his console. “Never mind, here it is.” Optimus chuckled. A few columns appeared on the screen and the list started unraveling, showing a profile picture of each member followed by name and mansion.

• Ratchet - Captain
• Drift – Second in command - Navigator

Megatron frowned seeing Drift’s picture, “Deadlock…?”

• Rodimus – Second navigator – Final route decider – Stellar charter keeper – Teller of the best jokes
• Ultra Magnus – Security Enforcer and Safety Inspector
• Brainstorm – Chief Engineer
• First Aid – Chief Medical Officer

Slowly each group got filled as names rolled in, more technicians, more engineers, more builders, more medics, and the longer the list got, the more excited the mechs in the room were. Many recognized friends and even family thought long lost. Names from either Autobot or Decepticon faction and many civilians enriched the teams. Soon the room became cacophonous with glee.

Names like Ambulon, Perceptor, Skids, Nautica…

Although it was names like Skywarp that stole a soft gasp from Starscream. The very last thing he’d imagine was to meet again his brother…

It took a very long time to download the full list, but every single mech was glued to the screen until the very last name appeared in bright neon characters. The list was then rendered available to every cybertronian in the room.

“Optimus,” At some point Shockwave called from his console and the leader promptly approached his side to look at his screen, “an attachment has been sent, a second message directly to you. Encrypted.” He said unemotionally at a low volume.

“Do send it to my private channel, I’ll look at it as soon as possible.”

“Logically.”

Optimus returned to the main console next to Megatron, who looked more thoughtful than usual.

“There is a good number of former Decepticons in this list.” He whispered.

Touching his arm, Optimus acknowledged it with a nod and turned towards the crowd, who took a full minute to calm down. “Everyone, please, a last moment of your attention. It brightens my spark to see so much joy in so many of you, but I must ask you to keep this event as secret as possible until I will have a meeting all the Representatives, whom I’ll contact immediately. I trust you all in your discretion if you want this ship to be allowed to approach Earth, because despite everything I remind you that we are still Guests on this planet. Do update the missing members and for at least a couple of days not a word to any human nor Terran.” 

Despite some reluctance by rare individuals, all of the presents answered with a definitive “YES, OPTIMUS PRIME!”, which gave Optimus a well needed reassurance. Not that he truly needed it since he knew that deep down he could trust all of them on this particular matter, even the more unruly of the bunch. Even Starscream.

Optimus released them with a promise to update them as soon as there was other major news, only to keep Elita, Bumblebee, Soundwave and Shockwave to contact the entire Human and Terran Representative Council for an emergency meeting as soon as possible. He also left a task for Soundwave to answer the message with a list of their own. For the time being, he headed to his office on the floor above, followed by Megatron.

“What did you receive?” Megatron asked locking the door behind him.

“That’s what I’m going to find out,” he heavily sat at his desk and immediately connected to his own computer. His fingers were fast on the holo-keyboard, the archivist still lived in his habits. Megatron eagerly yet silently stood behind him.

An audio was unlocked.

“Optimus, I believe you’ll want to keep the following information private for until we’ll be able to talk. It is a short list that completes the one I previously sent. During our long journey many odd things had happened and we gained a few new members. Again due to limitations, I won’t be able to add much data.”

• Echo – Communication specialist – Nurse in training

               Class-1 S.E. – NOT DANGEROUS (in bright red)

• Knock Out and Breakdown – Plastic surgeon/Racer and Ex-Wrecker

               Conjunxes – Not dangerous

• Thundercracker – Ex-Seeker – Biologist – Not dangerous
• “Starbit” – Missing data

The first individual looked rather odd in his picture… sharp features, odd black seams below his red eyes, mask covering half face, crown-like helmet. His colors were quite neutral in light grey and hints of purple in his helmet. Neither Optimus nor Megatron knew what “S.E.” meant. Yet Megatron had a feeling of dejavù that made his circuits shudder.

The two conjunxes seemed harmless enough, if Ratchet had welcomed them onboard they were fine in OP’s book.

“As if one Breakdown isn’t enough…” Megatron half-joked on the name the two mech shared. The odd thought of them looking rather similar in a few alignments crawled in his mind…

“Isn’t Thundercracker Skywarp’s brother?” Optimus asked.

“And Starscream’s. Yes.” Megatron looked thoroughly at the picture, “This isn’t the Thundercracker I know, but he definitively looks similar enough to be him…”

About Starbit there was absolutely nothing, just the name in quotes.

“Well… that was something,” Megatron commented annoyed.

“I hope we’d be able to share a call in the nearest future, there’s a lot we need to talk about.” He felt his companion’s hand on his shoulder.

“Indeed. It’d be curious to see his reaction to us.”

Optimus snorted, “Oh, he’ll take it well.”

“Hopeful as usual, eh.” He gave him a warm squeeze and headed to unlock the door, “Back to work, there’s a lot to…” He suddenly froze right outside at the view of Twitch sitting on the floor against the wall, curled up with her knees against her chest, arms wrapping them and her face hidden until she heard the door open. “Little Bird, what are you doing here?” He kneeled down to help her up.

She wobbly got back on her feet, but she looked utterly in distress and tired, “Please…” She whispered in a trembling voice, “Tell me you’re not going…”

“What you mean?” He said ever so gently, holding her hand on his finger.

She was barely holding tears at that point, “What Starscream said… Please do not go back to Cybertron…”

Megatron blinked confused, “How do yo- Oh…”

Since the moment Nightshade was granted access back to work, they were able to remotely check his station’s new data and they only wanted to call Tarantulas to ask a few questions. His tutor had answered the call, but when Optimus started the meeting the call was forgotten and Nightshade was able to listen in. They didn’t mean to spy… and they should have soundlessly closed the call… but they didn’t. They were still part of the team who located the ship and they wanted to know way too much about all the available details, and guiltily listened in with Thrash and Twitch at their side.
When Starscream mentioned a possible execution if either him or Megatron returned to their homeworld, Twitch became unbelievably worried and the longer they waited for the meeting to be over, the more inconsolable she became. When the assembly was closed, she darted off towards Sp.Ark. HQ.

“We didn’t mean to listen in… but please, Megatron… tell me you’re not going…”

Megatron’s expression saddened at the thought, but he might eventually need to go back to Cybertron. It wasn’t a promise, but it could need to happen, although it might take years before the spacebridge would be ready AND functional, “This is a topic to be discussed in the very, very far future, my Little Bird…” He gently pulled her up to hover closer to his face as he got on his feet, “for the moment, I’m not going anywhere.” The next thing he saw was her trying to stay positive, nodding and drying up her tears with a hand, then he simply felt her tightly wrapping her arms around his neck and all he could do was to hold her close, focusing on the warm reassurance Optimus’ hand gave him on his shoulder.

Chapter Text

Knock…

         Knock…

                         Knock…  

The slow banging on the side of the jet loudly echoed in the private hangar as Skywarp annoyingly tried to get Starscream’s attention. She’s been trying to talk to him alongside her sister for a couple of hours, but at this point he was just pretending to be recharging.

“Staaaar… We know you’re awake, your wings are twitching.” Nova whined again, leaning her back against his side.

Since he had returned to the Nest before dawn, Starscream seemed restless and nervous. The twins had been promptly updated on the situation and they quickly understood why their leader acted so erratically, the lack of rest wasn’t for sure the main reason. Seeing “Skywarp” on the list of the incoming ship had triggered so many alarms that Starscream closed on himself for a few hours. The fact was that Skywarp, the sister next to him wasn’t the original one. She and Nova Storm were born a long time after Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp and still grew up with them. Her original name was Skybreacher and she wasn’t born with the ability to teleport at all. She had inherited it from Skywarp and the fact they both eventually shared the same name was initially an idea of his to annoy Starscream. He thought it was hilarious.
That’s one of the many reasons why Starscream had often violent outburst on him and when Thundercracker tried to step in his defense, the older of the siblings heavily doubled down, using words he had learnt to immeasurably regret. That was by the time war had moved on Earth and Starscream was simply unmanageable, had no tolerance with anyone and among the siblings there’s been a huge fracture.
When the spacebridge had been destructed, an immense guilt gnawed at Starscream’s core for years and his anger towards Megatron only grew.
The only thing that he managed to recover was his relationship with the twins and they were able to reconnect.

At the nth knock, the jet heavily grumbled and he begrudgingly transformed to face the twins. “…can’t a mech have some rest, for Primus’ sake.” He hissed full of venom, but neither of the twins seemed appalled.

“Are you going to seriously discuss it or you’d like to keep sinking in guilt? To be honest, that’s a pathetic sight,” Skywarp huffed, arms crossed.

The look he sent her could kill and his fans blared hot in annoyance, “There is absolutely nothing to discuss, Sky,”

“Oh, cut that crap, Star!” Nova suddenly pointed a finger at him, “Just admit you missed him! We all did! Admit you’re happy he’s coming here of all places! Admit you want to talk to him again! That you want to reconnect like you did with Sky and me!” Starscream seemed ready to burst out in rage, but his expression slowly turned into a stunned sadness as he kept listening, “You’ve always cared for him and Thundercracker, stop acting like that’s not the truth!” Starscream tried to rebut, but nothing came out, “Oh I don’t wanna hear a word, mister! None of that! I know when you try to turn things the way you want!”

Feeling with his wings against the wall, Starscream ever so slowly let his pride deflate a bit, even Sky looked impressed on the result of Nova’s little outburst.

“…what should I do?”

“Apologizing for starters would be nice!”

A little flare of rage and pride seeped through, but Starscream quickly realized she was right… The way he departed from his brothers wasn’t one of his most flattering moments… He looked at both in a silent call for help.

“The ship is still very far out in space, isn’t it?” Sky asked, he nodded.

“Primus knows how long it’d take to reach us and who knows if the Representatives would allow it to land in the first place,” Nova added, “And surely none of us wants to see you float in a tar-pit of guilt, Star. So…”

“Send him a message.”

“A voice message,”

“Optimus might be able to send it.”

And for that there might be the need of Hashtag.

“I’m sure you’re aware of recent events,” Starscream asked the little Terran as they both sat in his office, facing each other with the desk in between.

“Unofficially, but yes." Hashtag carefully answered, noticing the thick fog of uncertainty and insecurity in the room, while Sky and Nova standing at her left. “I was wondering why there was a second Skywarp…” She suddenly gasped, making everyone jolt, “Did I just discover your biggest secret and now you’re going to eliminate me?!”

That stole a soft laugh from Starscream, her quoting odd human movies was always amusing and a good way between them to make things easier. “No, no… Skywarp on the ship is our brother. Skywarp here is just… eh…” He gesticulated moving a hand in circles, not finding the right words.

“My real name is Skybreacher,” she chuckled, “I took his name as a joke after he shared his teleportation ability with me, it simply stuck.”

She gave her a look, “Girl… and you tell me that now? Like that, out of the blue?”

“You never asked,” Sky snorted.

“You think you know someone…” Hashtag laughed it out, quoting another movie. “So, what can I do for you, guys?”

“We thought it was a good idea to reach out to him with a message… would you record it for us?”

“But of course! Video? Audio? What you need?”

“Audio only would be better, we’re quite limited for the moment,”

A little red light blinked on Hashtag’s left side of her head, “Alright, ready whenever you are! Should I add some awesome sound effect? Some music? A good intro?”

Despite having thought out what to say before calling Hashtag, Starscream was a bit taken aback for how quick she was to start recording.

“Hold on, Speedy,” Sky gently placed a hand on Hashtag’s shoulder, “As much as we all are excited to see our brother, this is rather a serious message,” Hashtag was as fast as lightning to close her archives.

“This… uh…” Starscream continued, “well… you see, my brother and I haven’t departed the best way and I’m mostly to blame. I wanted to reach out wanting to reconnect and… apologize.”

“Oh… oh, ok.” She quickly straightened her back, smiling, but taking the topic seriously, “Start when you want, Uncle Star,”

He didn’t even try to say the first word that he immediately felt self-conscious and stared at, “It’s not easy with you all gawking at me like that.” He hissed.

Hashtag shrugged and noisily twirled her chair around, giving him her back and the twins were suddenly very interested in the ceiling.

A snort escaped from his vents, “How have I managed to work with you for so many years…”

“Come on, Star! You thought about what you say!” Nova whined, “Just stop stalling and let it out!”

Starscream slammed his hand on the table, “Because forcing me now will work! I don’t know how to start, how can I even sound sincere like this? And I bet the moment he’ll see my name he won’t even bother to listen to it!”

“Alright, alright, guys, a moment,” Hashtag calmly intervened among them standing up, “Sky, Nova, you want this to work, right?”

“Of course…” They said together.

“You all care about your brother, don’t you?” She turned to Starscream after they nodded, “You too, correct?”

“Of course I do!” He snapped, offended, but his mask quickly faded, “Yes… of course.”

“Good! Good! Trust me, I know a thing or two when it’s about apologizing to your siblings, it’s never easy, not even for the silliest things. You want to apologize, right?”

“Yes,”

“And you mean it, right?”

“Yes.”

“Because you love your brother, right?”

“Yes! Yes! How many times do I have to say it, stop analyzing me, for Primus’ sake!” He hissed annoyed, “I was the first of the batch, I saw them all being born! We’ve been together for eons, we fought together, we flew together, we stuck together! I want him to know I was wrong, I want to know why Thundercracker isn’t in the list, I want to know they are both ok!” He was gritting his teeth out of rage and took him a moment to stop his vents from whirring. “Can we get this over with?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “This is exhausting.”

Hashtag excitedly clapped twice and sat back down, “Big in-vent, big guy, let it all out! Let your spark speak to you!”

“Could you be less cheesy?” He grimaced.

“Nope!” She gave him two proud thumbs-up and Starscream groaned, giving her a look… the patience he showed to this kid…

There have been a few false starts, all felt robotic at some point, so Starscream simply rejected the scripted speech he had prepared and improvised. In an extremely rare occasion, he really put all himself in his words, with an honesty that moved all the presents. Even Nova and Sky eventually joined him and they too shared their thoughts, worries, wishes for their brother in space.

In the end it was quite a heartwarming message, spiced up with Starscream’s usual melodramatic style in rare occasions, but still he sounded incredibly truthful and eager to meet his brother again.

Hashtag’s red light turned off and she wrapped the file nicely as he tiredly asked to put it on a device to deliver, protected by a password he chose, well knowing what to put, so nobody but Skywarp could have access to the audio file.

“Tell me when you’re d-”

“Done!”

Starscream blinked surprised, he was still standing up from his chair when she handed him the card. “I often forget how quick you are.” He took the device and eyed it for a few moments, “I trust you kept only the important part in?”

“Hellooo? I’m a pro!” She crossed her arms.

“Alright, alright…” He sighed deeply to decompress and both his sisters hugged him, proud of him, but he quickly shook them off trying to keep his image intact. Nova and Sky laughed and sassily leaned their arms over his shoulders.

“Well, time to deliver it,”

“Want us to go with you?”

“Get off, I said!” He shook them off again, more angrily, “No! I’m going alone.” He stomped to the door and stopped to shyly thank Hashtag for her help. And he was off.

The Terran was quite proud of the results and she had indeed kept her word keeping only the core of the message in the file, but she wasn’t told she couldn’t add the Director’s cut after it, or as she liked to call it the Red Light On cut.

His footsteps felt heavy and loud as he walked to the elevator, many of the employees moved quickly out of his way simply by noticing his shadow. He didn’t pay them any attention, he only needed to reach Optimus’ office, deliver the device, leave. Though his train of thoughts quickly screeched to a halt as he found the office’s door open and Megatron at the desk working on a good amount of files.

Starscream didn’t dare to knock.

Megatron stopped typing recognizing his footsteps even under the cacophony of war. He didn’t lift his optics from the screen. “Yes, Starscream?”

The way the bigger mech said his name, even in the calmest tone, still deeply triggered Starscream’s core, a visceral reaction he’d never be able to control and he loathed it. Though he quickly reminded himself of the oath he took in front of OP and forced his nerves to calm down. “Where is Prime?”

“Busy.” He looked away from the screen and gestured Starscream to enter and have a seat if he wanted, “Anything we can help you with?”

Starscream only took a step into the room and stood. We. He grimaced at the thought of his former leader and their worst enemy being actually bonded, the idea was hard to understand, but, as Starscream got to learn during his time on planet Earth, to each their own. …He really didn’t want to entrust Megatron with his personal issue. “No.” He sharply stated and took a single step back out of the door when he got back to his best senses. He stood there, his back to Megatron, his fists and wings twitching in frustration… but he couldn’t help himself, he really wanted to send his message as soon as possible so to hear back as soon as possible, he wasn’t in the mood for waiting.

He turned around noticing the other mech patiently attending for any move of his, well knowing Starscream’s body language. The thing that bothered the seeker the most was the lack of mocking in his optics, not a single note of derision, not a hint of gloating on his features… It wasn’t the first time Starscream noticed it in Megatron, but sure he was the perfect example of change and deep self-control. Or Optimus Prime had a tighter leash he could imagine.

“Yes…” He took out the card from his wrist, “I saw Skywarp is on the ship,” Megatron nodded in acknowledgement, “I have a message for him… if it is possible to deliver it to him.”

“For the moment we are unable to send audio or video files through the frequency we have to use to communicate with the Quantum Leaper, although I’m sure it won’t be an issue in the next incoming days.” He stretched out his hand, offering to take the card.

Starscream sighed in disappointment, showing his lack of patience. “How long it’ll reach Earth?”

“Shockwave wasn’t able to deliver an exact date yet, the ship has an odd erratic speed.” Not having received any card, he retreated his hand, “Estimated weeks or months. And consider it’ll need a permit to land and quarantine protocol will be carried out.”

“Quarantine?!” Starscream spat, “We didn’t go through any quarantine when we landed here!”

“Back then there were no Terrans nor accommodated Cybertronians who now risk any kind of infection from external agents.” Not to add the spacebridge had somewhat sterilized any possible pathogen that might have been dangerous to Earthlings and that the hosting planet had been simply very extremely lucky.

In short, it might have taken quite some time before Starscream could talk to Skywarp.

The seeker just stepped closer and handed him the card. “Do not bother to try to listen to it. It’s locked.”

Megatron gently took the card in his hand, “I wasn’t going to.” He simply stated. “Anything else?”

“No.” Starscream calmly said and headed towards the door, “You will deliver it, won’t you?”

“As soon as we’re able to.”

The seeker seemed to stall in the doorframe, his eyes darting around for a moment in confusion. Soon enough the sound of typing returned in the room as Megatron dismissed the topic as done, not bothered by Starscream’s presence.

“Thank you…” He calmly said, almost in a whisper.

The typing stopped and a just as calm “You’re welcome,” responded.

With that done, the seeker walked away.

Megatron wrapped up the reports he was working on and took a minute to contemplate.

There was a constant little weight in his arm compartment nagging at him, a soft clinking as the precious liquid moved inside as a taunting reminder of why he had asked the doctor to extract it.

Since they got the first contact, things got incredibly busy at the base and Optimus was often pulled left and right for updates and soon he’ll need to be fully concentrated for the emergency meeting with the Council. That’ll take a long time, a lot of energy and will cause a lot of travelling. Primus knows when OP will have a moment of peace.

…When they’ll have a moment of peace.

Being his companion, of course meant being at his side in any circumstance and active part of all the meetings.

Starscream’s eagerness had a sort of contagious effect on him, should he wait until things would be more accessible again, who knows when? Or propose before the true chaos landed?

He indeed had waited for SO long to arrive at this level, though things had so changed and…

He needed an expert’s suggestion.

He dialed Dorothy’s number.

Chapter Text

“Morning, Megs,” Dorothy yawned as she approached their favorite spot to share a chat and some gossip. It was a nice picnic area not too far from her office, wide enough for cybertronians to rest comfortably and with platforms built around huge trees for humans and Terrans to be at their same eye level. She climbed the staircase to the first platform, careful to not lose her grip on her scorching coffee. “Come on, confess your sins to Sister Dot,” She raised her cup to him before taking a sip with a smile, “What can I do for you?”

Megatron actually snorted, “If I’d have to confess all my sins, we’d be here for years,”

“Ah, you should hear what I did when I was in college.” She sipped again, nonchalantly. “So, what did you need to talk about?”

“It’s… quite a delicate matter,”

“Mhm, I gathered,”

“Have you read my reports of the night?” While they were working after the meeting, both him and Optimus simply decided to officially and prematurely update the Malto family about the arrival of the cybertronian ship. Half of her kids already knew about it anyway… She, of course, nodded. “Useless to say things might get very busy and possibly complicated for Optimus.”

“And yourself,”

He nodded, “I guess I just had the worst timing for choosing to do something important. This is where I’d like to hear your suggestion,” He opened his gauntlet compartment and extracted the precious vial, placing it next to her, which was almost comically as tall as her. “Are you aware of what this represents?”

There was no need for her to answer seeing her softly gasping as she saw it first in the compartment before he took it out. “Oh, Megs…” She said ever so sweetly, her hand over her heart… “About goddamn time!” Her sudden outburst made him jolt. “Primus knows how long Orion has been waiting!”

“Uh… Well…” He cleared his throat.

“Are you seriously considering pulling an Alex move on OP? He suffered like a beaten dog for two days before I had to go back to the ac-” She abruptly stopped herself before she started thinking of how sweet and gallant and nervous her dear Alex had been back then, “I’m sorry. Go on,”

“I guess you just gave me the answer…”

“No, no, forgive me, Megs, please do go on,”

He shook his head, smiling. “I don’t want it to feel rushed or under the wrong circumstances, I wanted to take my time and talk to him in a moment of peace. It’ll get chaotic soon enough and who knows when we’ll have a minute to share. He’s already going in with both boots, as usual,” He chuckled, “Although I feel too eager in my spark to wait weeks, months… years… for when we’ll find a new balance with the incoming wave of cybertronians.” He recollected the vial and gently twirled it in his fingers, “I should have done it long ago, when I had just forged the bottle. Who knows how things would have gone…”

He turned to face her feeling her warm hand against his cold metal arm, “Enough waiting, Megs. Life threw enough wrenches at you and OP pulling you apart for such a long time. It’s been hard enough to have you two reunited, if I were you I’d talk to him as soon as possible, love.”

His vents whirred for a long moment of thought and he shook his head again, smile still present. “I’ll never feel worthy of this, not after all I’ve done and caused.”

She warmly slapped his arm, “That’s not up to you to decide and you well know what Optimus thinks.”

“The fool…”

“Amen to that.” She sipped the last drop, “Not that you are much different or you two wouldn’t be compatible,” She smirked behind her cup feeling Megatron’s deadly glare.

“Ahh.. you’re not wrong.” He sighed. “I like to believe we’ve been compatible since the very beginning.”

“I can hear your romantic poetic gears turning from here, Megs.”

He nodded, placing back the vial, “I… shall write him something.”

“Go! Go, what are you doing still here? Get your aft off my grass and get to him before he changes his mind!”

“HA! Optimus Prime changing mind? That would be news.” He noisily got back on his feet, straightening his back. “Thank you, Dot.” He warmly looked at her, glad for the little talk.

“Mhm,” She leaned on the handrail, balancing her empty cup, “Anytime, Megs. Now get back in the air!”

He smiled, feeling much like a sparkling scolded before getting back in the game, and off he went.

The rest of the morning at the Rangers Station was somewhat busy, with two of the three teams out patrolling, checking camera trackers, shelters and path maintenance, some members even stopped in crowed spots for directing. The remaining team, Thrash’s, was indoors going through the daily checks on equipment, changing broken parts and filling forms. The Station’s Air Rescue Helicopter, an ex-decepticon called Ray, recharged in her little roof-spot while the team members checked her extra equipment.

“Ehy, mom,” Thrash gingerly entered Dorothy’s office holding a paper bag, “You forgot something,” 

“Hi, honey, what you got th- Oh, dear goodness, is it from dad?”

“Mhm,” he gently plopped it on top of the biggest pile of documents on her desk and leaned his hip on it, almost sitting on it for his height, “He called me from the picnic area a bit ago and said he added extra sandwiches or you’d starve.”

Dorothy shook her head as she collected her lunch bag, “Bless than man. Thank you, honey.”

He bowed his head and gave her a little recap of the work done and how the other teams were doing up the main paths. One of those paths had been closed the day before because of a small landslide and it’s been cleaned and reinforced for reopening in the early afternoon, though all the signs and protections needed to be reinstalled. “My team is ready to go,”

“Perfect! I’ll join you then,” She was on her feet before Thrash could blink, but he was still faster in catching her by the shoulders.

“No, no, no, no, no...” And he gently yet firmly flipped her, turning her 180° and directed her back to her desk, “You eat first.”

She put her hands on her hips, smiling at him with a bit of pride in her eyes, “You’re worse than your father.”

“I shall tell him that,”

“Oh, trust me, he knows.”

“I saw Megs flying off this morning,” He said after a while, grabbing something for himself from her mini-fridge. He had messaged his team to be free until 1pm for lunch so to join his mom for a snack.

“Yeah, he came to me for a little pep talk,”

“Him?! A pep talk?”

“You know, spark problems.”

Thrash squinted at her, “Hard to say it’s health problems or love problems… either way hard to believe he has any.”

“Hehe, no, it’s not health issues, you know nothing can sink him, ah! No, no, he just needed a little push, he’s planning to do something very sweet and important with Optimus and I told him to hurry the hell up seeing how things might get busy in the very next future.”

Thrash stopped mid-munching, quickly catching her meaning, half guessing, “Wait… hold on… You mean he’ll propose to OP?!”

“Yeah, that’s the plan, hon,”

The Terran frowned big time, “I thought they were already conjunxed!”

“Well, not officially,”

“I thought they just kept it private,”

Dot gave him a look, “From us, love?”

Thrash blinked in thought, “…Yeah, you’re right.” His eyes fell on the drink he was holding in one hand, “That sure is very sweet,” he smiled, his mind clearly travelling somewhere, which didn’t go unnoticed by Dot.

“Speaking of sweet,” His brow furrowed again confused and looked around himself, wondering if she wanted one of the candies she had in a tiny chest on the desk, so he offered her one. She started laughing, cupping his hand in hers, “No, no, I meant you,”

“Me? You always tell me I’m sweet and adorable,” he grinned.

She shook her head, smiling, patting his hand, “I mean I noticed how you acted in front of a certain new Terran,” It was her time to grin when he gently pulled his hand away to try to hide his face as his vents loudly betrayed him once again.

“…Is it really that obvious?” He whispered as he looked away.

She chuckled, “Oh, honey, there’s nothing to be ashamed of! He looks like a fine lad, fun, smart, polite, and he sure showed to have enjoyed his time at dinner! And I also noticed he seemed to enjoy your company,”

Thrash turned around to face her, his fingers unconsciously tapping his arm, “Well… he did ask my contact first,”

“See? He appreciates you! Why don’t you two go out as a treat? Get to know each other, show him around, have fun!”

“That’s… what we already had planned today… I’m picking him up at 3pm.”

The sound she made was overloaded with awe. She got on her feet so to awkwardly reach his cheeks over the desk and squish them, “That’s my baby! Always thinking ahead like I taught you!” She sighed sweetly and forcefully pulled him in a mama-bear hug, “My babies are growing too fast…!”

He sighed deeply, unable to escape from motherly love, “Mom… you’re crashing my pipes…”

“Nonsense, you got those reinforced,” She cut short and squeezed his torso even more in a lulling motion, “Hm, hm, hm! Big, strong and as sweet as my favorite candy! You fill my heart with pride!”

His vents whirred even louder, “Mom, we have to go back to work!”

She stole a couple more seconds and finally agreed with him, only to get a call from one of their scouts up the mountains, nearby the closed up path.

Blee-beep!

“Oh? Another notification?” Nightshade frowned at the screen.

“Which one is it?” Twitch checked from behind their seat, “Camera 5, northern trail.”

In front of them there were three big screens, the one on the right had Nightshade’s lab work about the incoming ship and crew, which they started thoroughly studying, the middle had a bunch of constantly updating data on the crew members, and finally the left one a totally separated issue with the camera feeds from their mother’s system. Something has been triggering all the twenty cameras up the closed up path, but it mostly seemed a system glitch. A very odd one. So Dorothy had asked Nightshade and Hashtag’s help.

Nightshade was still in their cosy bunker with Twitch keeping them company since Thrash was out for work and they still had to take a break since they were granted back in the archives. They couldn’t help it being an easily excited workaholic… They were given access to the camera’s system remotely and were making sure everything was up to date. Their data was shared with Hashtag, who was working from her own office at the warehouse, and so far she had found nothing deep in the code out of the ordinary.

They eventually saw Thrash walking in front of a camera with his finger to his audial. Behind him the forest seemed wounded by the recent slide, raw earth had been reworked, fallen trees removed and the path cleared, but only in a small section as if that was the very tip of the ruined land. Lush big trees still circled the area. “Here it is…” He took a moment to inspect the item, which was firmly set on a tree trunk, knee high. “It’s all good, there’s no sign of tampering,”

Nightshade joined his call, “And from here looks alright, it recognized you and it just gave the right silent notification. Found nothing interesting in the footage,”

“Seems like you might have spirits around you,” Twitch joined too, giggling.

“You say that, but you’ll never guess what Pathfinder told the rest of the crew earlier! He was so shook we took him to the medbay,”

“Ghosts up the mountains? Like in old folklore?” Nightshade asked skeptical.

“Eh, another Wakwak hunt like back in the days, uh?” Twitch shook her head. “Could it be that it’s some subterranean gas being released from the slide triggering the c-”

Blee-beep!

It was again camera 5 and Thrash eagerly looked around himself to see whatever had caused it to ring. “There’s nothing here… and no the air quality is normal,” He said that after checking his sensors on the arm.

A low, deep rumble started to slightly shake the ground…

Blee-beep!

It was now camera 6, only half a mile ahead on the path, right behind Thrash. It was then they could see a couple of young trees tilting and falling from afar.

The moment Nightshade got to view camera 6, it got cut from the feed as the tree it was attached to feel on it. It was still working, but it was blind and deafened by a lot of noise.

Thrash immediately contacted his team and made sure everyone responded as he rushed back to the camp up ahead sending the drones to look around the newly ruined area. Nightshade and Twitch quickly told him to be careful before he closed the call.

The feed from the rest of the camera was still working fine and they could see on the screen the team speeding through, rushing away from the landslide. From camera 7 they could see in the very background the trees nearby camera 6 just falling over and blocking again the path just cleaned the previous day. There were no animals running away, they had probably fled the area hours before, although they heard the zoologist of the team commenting that it was odd that there were no birds or bugs to be seen.

Dorothy gave the order for evacuation and for safety she preferred to close also the nearest trail and so one of the shelters. She later called all the geologists and hydrologists to have the area re-evaluated. Team One was designated to move people down the mountains, towards the safest areas. Team Two searched on the higher paths, looking for people and animals in need of assistance and for updating the many shelters in the area. Team Three, Thrash’s, gave constant feed on the active movements, connecting to Ray, who was up in the air with her three helper drones.

“Atlan! Atlan!” Twitched waved her arm to be seen.

The other Terran quickly got out the main door of the Academy, frowning as he was now able to read the messages Thrash had sent him, looking more and more worried as he also saw the special edition local news. He finally noticed the drone Terran and rushed to her. “Twitch!”

“Ehy, glad to see you,” She gingerly greeted him.

“I only saw now Thrash’s messages, is he ok?! I saw the news,”

“Oh, yes, yes, don’t worry, he’s alright! He apologizes he couldn’t come personally,” But her words seemed to fall in a void as Atlan really seemed concerned. “Ehy, really, no need to worry, my brother’s a pro and he has an excellent team! These things happen up the mountains especially after the recent strong winds. And, ugh, don’t listen to the news, they always overly exaggerate facts!” Atlan seemed reassured and closed the video-feed from his gauntlet, tightly holding on his bag of documents. “Why don’t you come for a treat? We can wait for him while being cosy.”

Atlan nodded gladly, “Add a dark coftex” –a sort of strongly caffeinated Quintex drink- “and I might relax too.”

Twitch blinked confused and eventually chuckled, “Sure thing! Lets’ go!” She hopped in the air, followed by him on the road.

They darted smoothly on the road towards the Malto property, but before the bifurcation, Twitch had a sudden idea and halted, “Change of plans! We go to the Ranger station directly!”

“Are you sure we can…?”

“Of course, it’s my mom’s office! And honestly, they have better coftex there.”

“…” The red bike tilted slightly in consideration, “Ok, I’m sold. Show me the way!”

She picked the way around the mountain, it was a longer drive, but very panoramic, with a stunning view of the valley and the mountains were Thrash and his coworkers were at.

“Oh, wow…” She suddenly stopped on the main curve which allowed a bit of room for a platform, transforming to have a better look. The view was stunning for sure, but what froze her wasn’t the beauty, but the horror of the far forest showing a brown and black spot on the side of the mountain. “The side sank…” Atlan was quickly next to her to witness the awful new yet not too wide empty patch. They could see the shelters at the starter point of the path down below, a lot of people had been gathered and many were being checked by medical crew, but nothing seemed too serious, the area there was untouched.

The sound of a far chopper caught their attention and they could see Ray with a cable below her, at the very end a Terran in a basket stretcher with Thrash hooked by his side to it, balanced by a coworker on the other side of the object. Twitch analyzed its trajectory quickly, “They’re heading to the Station! Then it’s nothing serious or they’d be flying to the hospital! Come on, let’s go!”

They were fast on the road again and from their higher position they could see Team Four, Five and Six rushing on the road below, joining and giving the shift change to the others.

The courtyard of the Station was brewing with activity, Dorothy briefing the team leaders and directing scientific teams to a side, the builders to another, reports from the previous days’ works had to be restudied and the territory had to be reformed and reasserted.

Twitch noticed Thrash coming out from the medbay and asked Atlan to wait a second as she flew to her brother. “By Quintus’ beard, you’re dirty!”

Thrash was trying to at least get his face clean with a big wet towel, “Just to hug you better!” He snatched her like a praying mantis before she could run away and got her too nicely covered in dirt, pine needles and mud. She squeaked aloud trying to push his face away, but in the end she just gave in, squeezing him back.

“Glad you’re ok, you skunk!”

“Well, I beg your forgiveness, your majesty, for not working in a flower field!” He caught a glimpse of red with the corner of his optic and turned to notice Atlan taking a few steps closer, shyly waving. Realizing his awful conditions, his vents flared up in shame. He loudly cleared his throat and waved back, “I… wasn’t expecting to see you here. Hi.” He awkwardly smiled.

“Eheh… it wasn’t planned, I just followed her and her promise for a good coftex.”

Thrash turned to glare at his sister, “Of all places… here for a drink?”

She gingerly wiggled her shoulders, arms behind her back, “I improvised,” but she gasped as he locked her in a grip with an arm.

“Tell me your sisters aren’t like this,” He asked Atlan.

“Oh, much worse, consider yourself lucky!”

He abruptly let her go as she gave him a good bite. “Lucky?!” He then sighed with a snort, “Would you give me 20 minutes? Allow me to change.”

“Of course,”

“Could you lead him to my office without getting lost?” He asked Twitch, who grinned all smug.

“As you wish,” She cheerfully hopped in the air and carefully went to hold Atlan’s hand, almost dragging him in the building not before the Aussie could steal a glimpse of Thrash removing his torso equipment as he vanished in another door.

Thrash’s office was not big and clearly showed that it wasn’t often used. There was still a bit of mess on the desk and the air needed some change for sure. Twitch had the good idea to open the window and let the air and sun refresh the room. 

The light hit the wall behind the computer and shone on the many photos Thrash adorned the board with. So many of him with his siblings and parents throughout the years, Bumblebee and Breakdown showing in a few as well, same for Optimus and Megatron during training. A bigger picture stood in the very center of it showing the whole family and friends with the caption below saying “Starting anew with a bang!” – Jan 1^st 2024

If memory didn’t trick him, Atlan was sure that picture was taken just a few months after the New Wave Event. “So many beautiful pictures,” He cheerfully commented, “that one in particular is gorgeous.”

Twitch gingerly sat on the desk, nodding, “Think that was the first pic we ever took after the Wave. We all needed time to process the whole thing and we really wanted to start over, so we had a great festival on New Year’s Eve. It’s been a nice reset for all of us, despite a few things still linger.” He looked at her with a curious questioning look, “Like my left eye. I was momentarily blinded in it and it still falters time to time.” She didn’t add it was because she was damaged instead of killed while her brother shielded her from the Weapon’s power. That was a topic she avoided talking about for obvious reasons.

“Oh… and doesn’t it bother you? Have you tried having it fixed?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, “Back in the day Terran medicine was almost unknown, the doctors at the HQ sure helped me, but they had to base the surgery on cybertronian knowledge, which is similar but not the very same. They still stabilized it a lot and it doesn’t bother me at all.”

“Thrash, hon, did you file th- Oh!” Dorothy rushed in the room holding a datapad, “I heard voices I thought he was here.” She turned to Atlan looking surprised, “I sure wasn’t expecting to see you here, dear, but it’s a pleasant surprise nonetheless! You came to pick him up?”

Atlan clumsily said hi back with a shy smile, “We can say that, in a way… he did text me he got caught up at work.”

“We sure had a very busy day and there’s still so much to do! Had to call the other teams earlier for back up and change.”

“Oh!” Twitch jolted hearing her ringtone, “Night needs me at home,”

“Tell them to keep us updated on the cameras, we keep getting odd feedback from the whole system now.”

With a swift jump in the air, Twitch transformed and nodded, “Will do, mom! See you later, Atlan, have fun!” and she darted out the window, up in the sky.

Now, Dorothy finding herself alone with the teacher, surely didn’t want to leave him awkwardly waiting on his own and she had a couple of minutes to spare. “So…” She smiled brightly, “Heard you had fun last night, I’m quite glad.”

Atlan fidgeted a bit trying to feel at ease, he soon found her sweet motherly tone to have a calming effect, “Yeah, it was a very entertaining night, some of those games were new and fun to learn.”

“Good, good. Do you have any plans for the afternoon?”

“Uh… Thrash wanted to show me around, but I’m not sure now, he might be too tired and I don’t want to bother him too much…”

“Nonsense! My boy is as strong as an ox! But, tell you what, there’s a nice cafe downtown where every afternoon there’s a small movie club meeting where they show classics from the 80s to the 2000s, sometimes even much older, they pick three to watch each day and if you want you can join the club for discussion or just leave anytime. They still use vhs in some cases!”

“That… sounds awesome! Although… I don’t know what Thrash might like…”

The smile on her face got so much wider and she let secrets out info like a river, “He’s an adrenaline junkie for movies like Mission Impossible and Die Hard, but he’s also a huge old Disney and Kaiju nerd. His favorite movies are easily Godzilla, How To Train Your Dragon and Pacific Rim, and,” she lowered her voice, getting closer to him, “he’ll never admit it, but he’s a fan of love stories. He adores The Little Mermaid from 1989, but his favorite Disney Princess is Belle.”

Trying to not chuckle, Atlan brought a hand to his face to hide his own smile and the fact he loved every bit he just heard. “Is that for real, ma’am?”

“Every single little word I just shared, kiddo, and please, again, call me Dorothy, told you already yesterday.” She pinched his cheek right before Thrash stepped into the office. “Oh, there you are! You in one piece?”

At first he was taken by surprise seeing his mom there with Atlan and gave her a suspicious squint which was reciprocated with a sly hidden grin. “Of course, but I’ll spit pine needles for a week for sure.”

She gently tapped him on the hip with the pad. “You sent the reports?”

“Yeah, I did,”

“When? I didn’t see the in,”

He groaned, “I did 15 minutes ago!”

“Are you sure?”

“Mom,” He whined, “Yes. I’m very sure. I also sent you an e-mail!”

“Didn’t see that either,”

“You never check my messages!”

“I will check, I will check,” She said unperturbed, “As long as you sent it in so I can share with the others,”

He groaned aloud as she pinched his cheek too, trying to wiggle out of her grasp.

“My, did you put on the perfume dad got you for Christmas?”

A loud whirring filled the room, “Mom, do you mind?!”

“And look at you, you waxed your chest plate too,”

“MOM!”

“Haha, ok, ok, I leave you two to your evening, go, go and have fun!” And she trotted out, proud and satisfied.

The slow painful turn Thrash did to look at Atlan… “I’m so sorry about that…”

On the other side, Atlan was really trying to not laugh, “You should see what my mom does to me, I guess they do this as a sport, especially with sons.”

“More like a torture…” He rubbed his eyes, defeated.

“So…” the red Terran snorted, “About that coftex,”

Thrash raised his head, enlighten. “I know a very good place!”

“And…” Atlan tried to send a bait, “What about a movie? The big tour could wait, I’m sure you’re tired after today.”

The other raised a brow, intrigued. To say the truth he was dead-tired, but he was never going to admit it, “Happens that café has a little cinema, their next shows are at 6pm, we could catch it, though they don’t have anything new, it’s a sort of vintage home cinema.”

Atlan smirked satisfied that he took the bait, “Oh that sounds fun! What are we waiting for?!”

And so the two bikes rode up the mountain to get downtown.

Megatron could barely keep his optics open… he was silent, uncharacteristically unfocused, rigid. That was the third meeting of the day, always the same faces of the Council, always the same monotonous voices on different topics all connected to the arrival of the Quantum Leaper. He was tired to hear the word “Quarantine”…

Despite there being a bit of concern, there has been an excited general agreement to allow the new incomers to land and a few Representatives offered their names for housing the Quarantine site, although the exact location will be later decided after their own in-Country poll.

All bureaucratic things Megatron couldn’t care any less about.

Although, being the Cybertronian Representative on Earth, Optimus took everything at heart. He had shared all what had been publicly sent from the Leaper, allowing himself to add that soon there will be new updates on the possibly missing data due to the distance in between.

When the final meeting of the day was finally concluded, Megatron was the first to stand up. The Conference Room was in a building not too far from Sp.Ark. HQs and he was more than glad to be in the air again, Optimus seemed the same to be on the road.

“You’re awfully quiet,” OP said through their private channel, his voice full of concern.

“I’m always quite.”

“…Not this much. Tired?”

“Exhausted. Bored out of my circuits.”

Optimus did notice how his tone seemed harsher than usual too and wisely waited, well knowing his partner.

And indeed, Megatron let the small bubble boil over and sighed, “Can we just have a relaxing evening?”

Optimus inwardly smiled, “Of course,” He said warmly. He had sent a full report of the day to Elita way before they reached the HQs and requested to not be disturbed for the rest of the day. Oddly enough, there were no updates from Ratchet since they had sent their own list of cybertronian members on the planet.

After a quick refreshing cleaning, the two old mechs heavily laid on their berth, Megatron on his back with Optimus against his side, under his arm. They both drew a deep in-vent, letting out a steamy puff. They enjoyed the silence and the dark for a good bit with closed optics, while gentle fingers caressed one’s side and the other’s fingertips traced the cords of the neck. Megatron caught that hand under his chin and kissed the palm, keeping it against his cheek.

“Today has been exciting,” Optimus joked, making the other snort.

“Just like a game of Yturiahn chess, where they take literal days to make a move.”

“It wasn’t that bad! We made huge progresses!”

“Sure, sure,” He pulled him tighter to himself, “And things are just going to be busier from now on.”

“Mhm, things will get exciting, I promise,”

“That is guaranteed, I’m eager to hear Ratchet’s response to your last message.” He said without enthusiasm.

“…Ehy,” He slowly wiggled out of his grasp to lean on top of him, cupping his cheeks in both his palms. A reassuring pulse from his EM field vibrated through Megatron’s body, which responded with a very same pulse, but Optimus felt a very light tic of uncertainty. He frowned and leaned his crest against Meg’s helmet. “Talk to me,” He whispered as his thumbs rubbed his cheeks. “This has nothing to do with the incoming ship, hasn’t it?”

Megatron ever so slightly shook his head and painfully lifted his optics to meet Optimus’. Their inner lights were the only bright things in the room. With a little effort, he lifted himself on one elbow, meeting his lips halfway up in a gentle, shy yet needy kiss. Optimus sat on his lap and pulled him up to meet him in a tangle of arms and loud whirring of vents.

“Dee… what is it?” He panted, pulling him close, cheek against cheek, keeping his head steady with a hand as he kissed his cheek.

The grey mech squeezed his waist in his arms, in-venting deeply with his lips pressed against the other’s neck, “Orion…” He softly traced the jawline of his companion with his lips and finally met his lover’s to press onto, “I humble ask for your forgiveness for choosing such a busy time like this, but I do not see any imminent other option in the future,”

Optimus frowned, not understanding, “What for, Dee?” He suddenly gasped as he felt his lover’s figure literally change under his fingers. Megatron’s frame hummed in a loud silence, all his panels vibrated, his edges smoothened, his look changed… What Optimus found before himself was a sight he’d have never been able to imagine and what shocked him the most was the actual meaning behind it.

Megatron, or better D-16, sat up proudly still holding his hips in his big hands, his frame now temporarily reverted into a phase a cybertronian would show to some other mech only when deserving of true, absolute, utter trust. His frame still big, strong and recognizable, but completely devoid of armor and color, only his red bright eyes and the pulsing red rims in-between his joints highlighted his protoform phase.

Optimus gawked at him in complete unanticipated shock, staring deeply in his optics.

Dee broke the heavy silence between them with a gulp and a shaky in-vent before daring a whisper, “An Act of Intimacy…”

Within what seemed like an eternity, Orion responded, at first in an awkward, unprepared way, finding hard to deactivate his own armor. He really wasn’t trying to look like a goof, but his knee-jerk reaction stole a chuckle out of Dee. Soon, he too showed his colorless protoform frame, with bright blue eyes and rims. “An Act… of Disclosure…” He shyly smiled, shaking his head in disbelieve as his chest plates opened to reveal his spark chamber encased within the Matrix.

With optics reflecting rich blue light, Dee stared at the exposed spark as if enchanted, entranced… Unable to resist, he gave the transparent shield a kiss, sending shiver down Orion’s spine. “An Act… of Profference…” With a swift move, the bright shining vial appeared between them as offer for his companion and as well his chest plates spread to reveal a bright lilac spark.

The moment Orion saw the little bottle, everything connected to reveal the big “scheme” his companion had been hiding for so long… He should have known, he could laugh at himself to the verge of tears for how dumbly blind he has been. With an ever so delicate move, he clasped his hand around Dee’s, accepting the Offer with immense pleasure. “And an Act of Devotion…”

“An Act of Devotion.” Dee firmly underlined pulling him as close as possible, stealing a soft gasp from his now Conjunx Endura’s lips. The vial was finally moved into Orion’s gauntlet compartment as if to seal the Ritus and the two bare mechs pulled each other so hard their Spark cases clinked together, making them jolt and lose balance for a brief moment, but they quickly found each other’s lips as they fell back on the berth.

Nothing else was going to bother them that night, not before dawn.       

Chapter Text

People say the little town of Witwicky has changed a lot in a decade and it sure did. It still kept the old heart of a town in the middle of the mountains, but also gained the vivacity of a bright urban city, focused in a no-driving area where many activities flourished, especially after sunset.

Thrash guided Atlan through the main veins of the town to one of the main entrances to the activity area. There was no gate nor officer to keep things in check, there was actually no need, just a couple of hip-high poles that when Thrash surpassed by just the frontal wheel, he felt a soft hum to his t-cog as reminder that was a no-driving area. He comfortably transformed, followed by Atlan who adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, and signed at him with a nod to follow him.

The small street they walked in had sort of festival lights hanging above, all in a warm colored atmosphere, gently swinging in the breeze that might promise an incoming storm. They all tinkled almost following the rhythm of the pumped-up music coming from the main plaza up ahead. Restaurants were starting to be full to the brim with people and Terrans and all around there was a very cheerful atmosphere. All around there were all sort of stores that stayed open until 10pm, a couple of mini theatres, a cinema, a cabaret and different services like a bank, an info booth and such. The plaza had different stands with food, trinkets and art crafts, and way in the back in a small corner a little team of med bots and paramedics to intervene if needed.

Atlan was looking around quite impressed, “You know, all this reminds me of home,”

“How so?”

“The town I was born into is much smaller than Witwicky, all the markets and stores were a sort of meeting during the morning in the hot spot and pretty much everyone knew one another. It was very tight and personal yet very bright and lively like this plaza. Uh, I kinda feel nostalgic now,” He sighed, placing his hands on his hips.

“And… is it similar down in Texas?”

Atlan gesticulated in a vague gesture with his hand, “Sort of. Less spiders for once.” He snorted.

On the other hand, Thrash shivered, “Uh-hu, I forgot about those down there… are they really that common and deadly?”

With a toothy smirk, the Aussie huffed out of his vents, “Worse than you can imagine. Why? You don’t like spiders?” He purred.

“Yeah, they’re cute… from very far away.”

  “Let me change your mind with this, look at my old Bertie, she was our spider,” He flipped out his holoscreen from his arm and proudly showed family pictures with a huge, blue-greyish fuzzy spider lying on his head.

Thrash’s vents let out a puff of air as if it was his last breath, “Bertie, you say. Adorable.” He said out flat trying to not imagine the monster move around. “You and Tar would get along quite well.”

Having put the photos away, he looked at him with a questioning look. “Friend of yours?”

Thrash nodded, “Nightshade’s mentor, he’s an arachnid mech.”

“Oh, would be interesting to know him!” He excitedly exclaimed wondering if the mech was a scientist as well before giving Thrash a look, frowning. “Ehy… did I make you uncomfortable? I-I apologize, it wasn’t my intention, mate, I was just… fooling around.”

The other young mech laughed it off, “It’s all good, dude! Don’t think something this small can scratch my circuits!” He brought his fist to his spark.

Atlan caught the occasion seeing him puffing out his chest and walked in front of him, sharply stopping him on his tracks. He gave him a good look from head to toe with a sort of devilish grin, causing the other Terran to freeze in confusion and his vents to start whirring. “Well… after all I saw you in action today at the park. Call me impressed by your steady nerves, Vents.” He moved away with a satisfied expression as Thrash coughed looking away, trying his best to shush his now loud whirring.

A sudden palm hit Thrash hard in the lower back. “Isn’t this my favorite boy!”

The Terran yelped caught off-guard and immediately sighed recognizing the man’s voice. “Mr. Wilkerson, hi.” He was quite old looking man, scrawny and half bent forward, yet very well dressed, vintage even, with a very accentuated style from a different century, with a bob hat, a walking stick that looked to be more expensive than a car and glasses so thick to be bottle ends.

“My boy, how you doing, it’s been a while!” The old man tapped his legs with his stick before noticing Atlan, “And who’s the young fellow here with you? Come on, boy, introduce us!”

Thrash squeezed his eyes in a snort, he couldn’t get mad at the man, “Sir, this is Atlan, he’s new in town, I’m showing him around. Atlan, this is Mr. Henry Oliver Wilkerson, my… old employer and… owner of all the theatres in town.”

Atlan quickly took and shook the boney hand he was offered. “Pleasure, sir!”

The old man seemed very pleased and tapped Atlan’s legs with the stick. “Good grip, good grip, strong lad you are! Just like your friend here,” the stick hit Thrash’s metallic shin, “best lad I ever had!” The red Terran looked at the other with a curious look. “Come on, lad, tell him what you did!” Thrash barely managed to make an “Uh” sound that the man cut him off, talking proudly. “Best operator I’ve ever had, I tell you! All the movie reel bobbins in order, always found all the films, presented the best combinations for events! Ha!” He pretty much slammed the stick again against his leg, this time Thrash winced in pain, “Still can’t understand why you left! Punctual, careful with delicate equipment, knew what you were doing! You knew all the incoming movie titles and found all the unfoundables!” Atlan frowned at the word, but got the meaning. “So,” Mr. Wilkerson cheerfully changed subject, “Where you two youngsters are headed to?”

Thrash was still rubbing his shin as he coughed out his words, “We’re going to the Old Timer,”

“AH!” The man exclaimed aloud catching a small crowd’s attention, “My treat, my treat, I’m going there too. It’s my treat for you two, today we have Chaplin!” And off he trotted at full grandfather’s speed with his stick tapping on the floor.

Atlan got closer to Thrash’s audial and whispered, “Let me guess, you were tired of the stick,”

Thrash snorted, “One of the reasons,”

The other laughed too, “He reminds me of my maternal grandpa, same way of talking,”

They followed the old man to a café with a vintage looking insignia, the name Old Timer carved in wood, adorned with a curvy frame and carved details. Thrash opened the door for the owner and let Atlan in first too, a bell above them announced their entrance. The old man bravely waved his stick to the staff as a salute and all young humans and Terrans excitedly saluted back, even more when they noticed Thrash coming in too.

“My treat! My treat! Have a good vision, kids!” And he trotted off towards one of the small movie rooms, the one signed with “Black and White”, the only room with an ancient projector showing primarily mute movies and archive footage of news of the last century. It was a room incredibly loved by history and cinema students and enthusiastic fans.

The room of the café was incredibly furnished with all sort of movie memorabilia, from actors photos to signed scripts to frames from original cells, photos of studios, behind the scenes, puppets of animation characters, it was almost a little museum. There were also shelves upon shelves of dvds, vhs, vinyl disks of soundtracks, newspapers, books about movies… anyone could have access to them and even bring them home for a short time with a library-like system. Atlan was caught in awe with the whole display…

“My, my, isn’t it Thray-thray,” a feminine voice purred from behind the counter, “Gotta love when Henry thinks we’d make you pay for anything here,” She was a tall, quite curvaceous Terran with a bright cyan frame over a white main body, golden rings adorned her all over her joins and her plump lips and nails. Her left eye was particularly glassy as she was clearly modded over a projector.

“Hi, Spotty, what’s new under your light?” He leaned on the counter, setting a leg to rest across the other.

She automatically started preparing his usual drink in a big fancy glass. “The usual, dear. Though let me tell you, you look awfully tired.”

He rolled his eyes, “Check the news and you’ll know why,”

“I saw, I saw, calm your engine,” She teased, then eyed the red Terran lost among the titles of the vhs. “And what can I get your friend?”

Atlan slightly jumped at Thrash calling his name, his vents whirred a bit out of embarrassment, and he joined them at the counter, “Hi, sorry, I was fascinated by the many movies I haven’t seen yet,”

She smiled and threw Thrash a look to which he responded with a glare, “Hi, darling, what’s your name? You look new. I’m Spotlight. Spotty if you please.”

“Careful, she bites,” Thrash mumbled.

She hissed at him, “You’ve always been a jealous bitch,” At that Thrash almost choked on his drink. She ignored him to elegantly turned her attention to the other Terran as Atlan looked at them in amazed shock. “So, sweetie?”

He cleared his throat, “Atlan and uh,” He snorted, “A coftex. As dark as death, darling.”

“Hmmmhmm, see? Time to time you sure bring a gentlemech, Thray-thray, and with such a lovely accent, love.”

“Don’t make me call your brother, Spotty,”

She groaned as she prepared the drink, “See?” She said to Atlan, “He’s always ready to call the cops on poor innocent me,”

“Sure, innocent my aft, wait until I tell him about when you t-” He quickly parried something she threw at him.

“Eat a cookie and shut the hell up, love.” She said with a smile.

“Your aim still sucks,” He didn’t duck the next cookie on time, getting crumbs all over his face.

Atlan shook his head and thanked her for the coftex and the extra mini treats she placed next his cup. “Was it like this every day when you worked together?”

Spotty moved to Thrash and placed her arm over his shoulders, he did the same with her and they pulled each other close. “Oh we never got bored here,”

“She’s the main reason I left,” his smile betrayed him.

“You wish!” And she planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a golden mark.

He recoiled in disgust, wiggling out of her iron grip and quickly wiped the mark off his skin with a napkin, “I’ll need bleach to get rid of this now,”

She laughed and shook her head. “We sure missed you.” There was a hint of a sad note in her voice that caught Thrash a bit by surprise. He tried to ignore it hiding behind his glass as he sipped. “You guys staying for a movie?”

“That was the plan,” Atlan answered with a shy smile, “What are the movies of the day?”

She pointed at a small blackboard sign where the five rooms were listed with the respective movie chosen for the day, all starting at 6pm, about 20 minutes from that moment:

• B&W room – The Tramp
• Red room – The Emperor’s New Grooves
• Blue room – Blues Brothers
• Green room – The Dark Crystal
• Black room – John Carpenter’s The Thing

Atlan analyzed the titles tapping his lip with a finger, “Something light? The Thing is way too creepy… Love the Dark Crystal, but I’ve seen it too many times… Blues brothers?”

Thrash shook his head, “Too much car gore…”

Atlan nodded, agreeing, “I’m not a fan of those old movies,”

“Same. I’m up for The Emperor’s New Grooves, love that movie.”

The other Terran seemed a bit embarrassed, “Can you believe I never watched it?”

The look Thrash gave him… “Excuse me, dude?!”

“E-Ehy, it’s still on my list!”

Thrash turned towards Spotty at the speed of light, “Tell me you have two seats available,”

She grimaced since he should know the rules of the house, “You see the FULL sign next to it?” She pulled a couple of fancy paper tickets from a little booklet and held them in front of him, grinning, “Only because it’s you and you want to impress your friend here,” She happily gave them the VIP tickets, gaining quite some petty satisfaction in seeing Thrash’s pouting embarrassed as he snatched his ticket from her claws. She winked handing them also a couple of candy packs too. “Have fun, boys.”

Atlan snorted, “I like your style, Spotty.”

She nodded towards his companion, “Thank him for teaching me all I know,”

Thrash huffed giving her a look, he knew what she was doing and he couldn’t even get mad at her. He tapped her headcrest with the candy bag, shaking his head and lead Atlan towards the Red room.

The room was indeed a little space for about forty viewers with comfy theatre chairs for both humans and Terrans raised on a wide staircase. At the end of the room stood, mounted on the wall, a very big tv with dvd-vhs reader below. The VIP chairs were the ones on the top row, a bit bigger and with leg rest, nothing too fancy though due to tight room. They were showing old trailers while waiting for the movie to start and the room was starting to fill up. Thrash let Atlan sit first and he plopped on the chair next to him, getting comfy. The Aussie though seemed a bit thoughtful.

“Thrash? Do you mind if I ask something personal?”

“Hm? Not at all, shoot.”

“You and Spotty there seemed quite close… Were you two dating? Did you really leave this job because of her?”

Thrash blinked very surprised, not fully grasping where that question could be coming from, “No, no, no, you got it wrong, dude! We were never a thing,” he said half laughing, “She’s just like that, very spunky and touchy, if you know what I mean. We just shared good vibes! And kept each other out of troubles, haha. Sorta.” He popped a candy into his mouth, “She has nothing to do with me leaving, I just needed a change.”

“Oh!” Atlan chuckled ashamed, “Haha, sorry for implying-” He felt a sudden elbow-bump against his arm.

“No harm! You worry too much,”

“So… is this movie good?”

“Just wait and see!

Atlan was still laughing when they walked out of the place and still snickering even while munching on the chips. Useless to say he adored the movie and was a huge fan of Kronk. “Wendy kept telling me it was good, but I’d never thought it was this good!”

Thrash chuckled to himself as he sipped his drink through a funny curly straw. They had decided to go for a fast food restaurant, picked their dinner at the drive through and they drove to a nice looking –now deserted- pic-nic area in a playground not too far. Within a few years Terran food got quite interesting and the human influence was very evident. With a nice mixing of different metals fused into the Quintex and “cooked” at different temperatures the result was very loved among the Terrans and it was later shaped as French fries and burgers with different consistencies and tastes. Same with drinks.

Thrash took a good bite trying his best to not spread sauce all over his legs. He got the biggest combo being in deficit and in a big need of recharging, though he didn’t want to leave yet. He felt a good spurt of energy, but he knew it wouldn’t last long, he missed when he was newly born, just a sip of juice would recharge him for days… now he needed maybe three times the amount and recharges after heavy activities. It was normal among older Terrans though. “My siblings and I watched it so many times, I think,” he used his thumb to clean the corner of his mouth from a big glob of sauce and licked it, “it’s the movie we watched the most.”

“Hmm I think the most played movie in my family is uh… probably How to train your dragon or the Super Mario movie.”

“The one from the 90s?” He snorted.

“Good Primus, no.” Atlan laughed.

“Ah! That movie was atrocious, but I still have a soft spot for it, my mom grew up with it and none of us can hate it.”

“What about the Marvel movies?”

“They were good at first, but it got so oversaturated quickly. My sister Hashtag knows them to death, I stopped after the first Avengers.”

“Yeah, same. I didn’t mind some of the series after, but they got boring quickly.” He finished the last chips and took a sip, “Star wars?”

“Ah, watched them too many times, they’re fun but not truly my thing. I’m more for Godzilla.”

Atlan smirked, “Kaiju lover?”

“Mhm,” He packed all the paper in the bag and looked around for a bin, “Love me a good giant monster,” He saw one not too far and aimed at it hoping to score a point like in a basketball game. The empty drink flew right in, the wrapped up bag bounced on the rim. Thrash groaned and hopped on his feet to go get it. Atlan followed chuckling.

“Do you have any figure?”

“But of course! And a couple of big movie posters.”

“Of which movie?”

“Shin Godzilla and…” He suddenly looked a bit embarrassed, “The… Little mermaid from 1989…”

Atlan noticed that little hesitation in his words and maybe stood looking at him a couple of seconds longer than expected. He couldn’t help finding his whirring cute. “Those are great ones!” He exclaimed in honesty. “Huge contrast between the two for sure, imagine if they had a crossover,”

A small smile formed on Thrash face and he snorted out loud. “Ariel would absolutely befriend Godzilla.”

“Who needs legs when you can ride a monster on land?”

The two looked at each other barely holding it before they burst out laughing at more silly ideas.

They remained in the area for a short while still, talking more about movies and what else to watch again at the Old Timer after finding the monthly list online. At that point Thrash struggled to stay awake and Atlan noticed.

“Let me get you home this time,” he offered.

“No, no… nah… As your personal guide, it’s my duty to get you home safely, I know all the shortcuts in the area, I can get you to the Village and be back home in a blink!” It was admirable the way Thrash puffed out his chest, but at the same time a little bit laughable.

Atlan frowned. “Don’t be reckless for me,”

Thrash pouted, “Seriously, I’m not being reckless, I’ll gladly accompany you home,”

Seeing such strong determination, Atlan gave in, “Alright, alright. But next meal is my treat.” He gave him a cheeky smile and transformed, ready to go.

Suddenly reinvigorated by the promise to share a (sort of) dinner again with him, Thrash twirled happily in bike mode and darted off with Atlan at his side.

It was quite late when he reached the barn, but the garden lights were still on. He could hear activity and some talking coming from the barn, immediately recognizing Bee and Breakdown’s voices. Bee was sitting in a corner which he had customized to his needs a long time before and checking a holoscreen where a long list of names scrolled through. He was analyzing the whole archive of the crew of the incoming ship. More data had silently arrived to complete it, more details for each member and he was curiously checking what some old friends of his were up to. Optimus had also shared the small add-on he had privately received. Breakdown was lazily resting on big hay bales adding comments. He apparently was annoyed that there was another mech with his same name.

“My, oh my, isn’t it our Thrash returning to the nest,” Breakdown chimed seeing the Terran’s frame at the barn’s door.

“Ehy, kid, where you been? It’s quite late,” Bumblebee looked up from the screen, seeing him tiredly waving at them.

“I was out with a friend,”

Breakdown sat up, yet tilted his head at him, “Ohh, look at him, Bee!” He said with a devilish tone, his grin wide on his face. He hopped down and took two steps, towering over the young one as he leaned forward, hands on hips. His UI immediately analyzed his appearance, finding wax on his chest and a perfume still lingering on his frame. “Are you sure this wasn’t a date, kid?”

Thrash’s vents flared up in a loud whirring, but out of mostly rage, “I barely know the guy! I just wanted to make a good impression!”

Feeling the need to be the Mother Hen of the situation, Bee got on his feet and gently pressed BD’s shoulder back to move him off Thrash’s personal bubble. “Breakdown…” He warned.

The mech quite ignored his companion, “Kid, you should have come to me first! I am an expert in the field, I can and will give you precious tips!” Bee gave him a very unimpressed look. Even Thrash there looked at him not buying it at all… “I can tell you how to really impress your potential companion, the best tips from a master himself! How do you think the great Bumblebee came running towards me at full speed, finding me irresistible and uncatchable on the race track?” He suddenly yelped as Bee’s grip on his shoulder tightened almost to leave a dent.

“Why don’t you allow me to clog those pistons of yours for a second, hm?” He said with an ice cold tone before looking down at Thrash, “Now, the worst thing you can ever do is asking date tips to Mr. Cunning Charm over here, because you really want to know how it went when he tried to kiss me the first time?”

“Sweetspark, I was only kidding, come on, really…!” Sudden terror colored DB’s face.

“Now imagine the perfect moment to finally share such sweet emotions and-”

“Bee, don’t…!” Breakdown tried to push him away to avoid such a spilling.

But Bumblebee held on, “and I’m there thinking Finally, we’re reaching the Finish Line at the same time,”

The other mech was trying his best to not cry-laugh at this point, “I’m begging you, Bee!”

The yellow mech locked his arms under one of his and raised out his free hand, fingers being lifted at each statement, “He made himself randomly laugh as we were closing in,
stepped on my foot,
laughed even harder as I was cursing,
spat on my face,
tried again despite me being mad,
missed my lips completely,
bit my nose instead!”

Breakdown was melting on his frame laughing out loud, his arms held for dear life around his neck.

“And the next thing you see is him on the floor, curled up and desperately crying for the next 15 minutes.”

Thrash barely held a snort, “I don’t think there was this need to destroy his ego like that, Bee.”

Bumblebee moved his arms better around the other big mech to hold him up, patting his back as BD loudly whined over his shoulder, not daring to face Thrash. “Time to time he deserves to be slowed down a bit,” Bee chuckled, at that point he was literally holding his whole weight. “Still, jokes aside, Thrash, date or no date, I haven’t seen you smile like this in a very long while, this new guy sure has a positive effect on you, do get to know him better, even just for a good friendship.” Thrash did show a good look under the exhausted face and his vents once again whirred pleased. “Though, now go to berth, you look ready to crumble.”

Thrash had a sudden big yawn, “I sure am… Thanks for the talk, guys, have a good night.”

“Night, kid.” He said as the Terran activated the elevator to go down in the bunker.

Breakdown only grumbled something against Bee’s shoulder, his pride was way too hurt to look and act decently. Bumblebee simply took him to his corner to the screen and let him rest sitting on his lap and hugging his torso.

“Can I stay here all night?” Breakdown asked after a while.

“Depends, what do I get in exchange?”

BD lifted his head and, looking as cocky as always, “Something I owe you one hundred times over?”

Bee huffed unsurprised, “Start counting,” and after a brief exchange of a knowing look, their lips pressed hard together.

Downstairs Nightshade was in their corner with all their screen on, multitasking and full-on focused in their assigned task by Optimus. Their claws were fast on the keyboard, but having a wing still in the cast, they had to work something out moving half of the keyboard against their chest which Twitch helped wrapping it around their torso. They could very easily go wireless, immersing themselves into the computer without the need of typing, but they preferred to keep their dexterity active.

They were given the very important task to create a transmittable database for Ratchet with all the main information about the planet’s physics and chemistry, about Terran’s history and biology, human society before and after the arrivals of Cybertronians (which he was briefly aware of) and much more… They were working within a small team of field experts who’d collect data and send it to them to be processed. At the same time, they were working with Hashtag about the oddities in the camera system at the ranger station, which apparently had spread to other camera systems in the area. Hashtag was digging through a ton of forums, social media and reports of any kind finding many cases in the whole State. That issue was somehow worked in the background though.

Twitch was hovering around them using a small, soft, puffy duster into one of the holes of the web-cast around their neck to give them some relief from a rim itch. “There he is! Our adventurer! How did it go?” She excitedly exclaimed seeing Thrash skating down the bunker, almost dragging his wheels. She darted to him to give him a welcome-back hug, “So, what did you do? What movie did you go to see? Did he like the place? Did you have fun?”

At that point Thrash had reached his berth, time just to raise a thumbs-up at Nightshade’s salute that he just abandoned himself to gravity and his lights were out way before he even landed on the padded structure.

Twitch gasped taken aback covering her mouth with her hands, even the owl bot looked surprised. The two siblings shared a look then just burst out with a soft chuckle. She simply hovered over her brother’s back and gently pulled him better on the berth and covered him with a thin blanket.

She returned to Nightshade, sitting at their side and leaned her back against their good arm, crossing her leg and gingerly holding her shins with her hands. “I guess Atlan had quite an effect on him, hm?”

“Indeed. He should have come here time ago, hehe.”

Within a few minutes of silent typing, Thrash’s arm beeped as a couple of messages arrived. At first the two siblings let it be to respect their brother’s privacy, but at the third beep they thought to check to be sure it was nothing bad. Twitch flew to Thrash and checked his gauntlet. “Oh, it’s Atlan. He’s asking if he’s home safe.” She chuckled and put back the arm under the blanket before returning to Nightshade.

“I have his contact.” They said and opened a new chat window. “Hi, it’s Nightshade! Fear not, Thrash is home safe, he just crashed on his berth. I’ll tell him you asked of him as he comes out of recharge. Have a good night!”

Quickly, they got a reply. “Thank you, professor, I was ready to call for a missing mech! I’ll call you in the morning for an update on the lesson of the day. Have a good night.”

Twitch giggled, hugging Nightshade’s neck, “They are so cute.”

And so the rest of the night continued with only the sound of typing and a soft snoring.

Chapter Text

The blaring ringing of the alarm going off was quickly echoed by the groan that escaped Megatron’s vocal box. And just as loud was Optimus’ snoring into his audial as he was using Megs’ left shoulder as a pillow. Optimus wasn’t even aware of the ringing and continued his peaceful rest, only to be abruptly woken up by crashing noise of the alarm flying against the wall.

His long audials tilted up as he half-rose, ready for action, but eventually snorted and fought the sleep out of his optics as he noticed his companion rubbing his face with a hand. “That’s the fourth one in two months.”

“Get a less annoying one next time.” Megs croaked.

 Optimus flopped back on him, cuddling tight against his side. “Do we have five more minutes?”

“No.”

The other groaned aloud. “I’m sore.”

Megatron tilted his head to face him, giving him a look. “You are sore? Get off…”

With a long exaggerated whine, OP rolled on his back, optics tightly shut in protest. “I’ll call in then.”

“You’re the one hosting the meeting.”

“I might delay it.”

“After all we went through to gather all the Representatives with such short notice? Forget it. You still have a week of meetings to go.”

 OP sighed in a chuckle. “Fine. You’ll be joining me in the afternoon, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, fear not. But I’ll leave at the first quarantine being mentioned.”

“Fair enough.” He purred as he felt the strong arm he was still leaning on bend down to reach his chest. Gentle fingers ran over the now closed rims of the chest panels.

“Wanna go first?”

“Go, go, I’ll check some file.”

Megatron retrieved his arm and sat up with a bit of a struggle. Optimus gently pushed him up with a hand caressing his back. He sat up feeling an absolute mess and his left hip felt rusty. He swung his legs over the berth and the next thing he knew was that his left leg simply gave up and he crumbled to the ground like a falling tower.

“Woah ehy! You ok?!” Optimus quickly pulled himself over the edge only to see Megatron on his back, glaring up at him.

 “I can’t feel my leg.” He said flatly.

Optimus snorted though. “Here, here,” He gave him his hand and at first he managed to help him sit up, but he slipped and he too plummeted down off the berth, perfectly landing on his companion, laughing out loud.

“Pax…” He said defeated, collecting him on his lap, “If this is a new tactic to avoid going to the meeting…”

“I swear it’s not!” He rolled off him and tried himself to get on his feet, but his vents huffed loudly in pain, “Ah… I didn’t know certain spots could hurt…” He bent over as a strong cramp got his abdomen. He still helped his partner up.

They looked at each other with a bugging feeling, like something wasn’t right, and they both stared at their berth… They didn’t even notice the padding ripped open during the night… At that point there was no more need to clean it.

Megatron cleared his voice, “I’ll install a new one tonight…”

“I’m ordering one right now.” Optimus was biting his own lips to not laugh, but he was in the middle of a giggle fit and he almost ordered ten instead.

Moving an arm over his shoulder, he used OP as support. “Shower. Now.”

They wobbled towards their private cleaning-room, holding onto each other at every step like drunken mechs, but within a few minutes they could walk on their own. There was a moment of sort of surprise as they saw themselves in the big mirror. They sure had both forgotten they were in their armorless form, but what caught them was the presence of something new. Right at the very base of their necks, perfectly centered, shone a tiny pearl of sort, bright with their respective Conjunx’s spark color. Optimus’ was lilac, Megatron’s was cyan.

The two mechs stared at each other with big eyes before looking back at the new object.

Optimus grabbed Megs’ arms, hurriedly pulling him down, “Is that…?!”

Megs gently but firmly grabbed his chin, awkwardly pulling him up to analyze his neck, “A Conjunx Va-iik?!”

Va-iik was an ancient word used to describe a profound spark bond, which got modernized –and translated to English- simply as Conjunx Pearl. It formed due to an incredibly intense core fusion and due to its appearance typically after a Ritus, it got popularized as a symbol of the status of a relationship, very much like wedding rings for humans. It could appear any time really, but always between cybertronians who really wished to be bonded for life.

Being really sure of what it was, their surprise quickly melted into an overwhelming touching pride that drew them together in a tender kiss.

But Optimus quickly showed eagerness and started giggling under his breath.

Megatron just slowly closed his optics for a second, in-venting deeply. “You’re going to show it around to everybody, aren’t you?”

“Wha-?! Pffff! No, no, of course not, haha, what did you take me fo-o-or?”

He was absolutely going to show it to everyone…

Corridors at the base were usually deserted after breakfast time, thing Megatron couldn’t complain about. After he restored his armor on his frame, he somehow was glad the va-iik wasn’t in sight, it was well hidden in his collar and out of public eye. Optimus’ on the other hand… it wasn’t fully exposed either, but was surely more than Megs’ and if Optimus wanted he could easily show it off. Which he did, because he did already send Megs a lot of messages saying he got congratulations over and over. Megs wanted none of that attention. Their relationship was nothing new, but he still preferred keeping things as private as possible.

There have been little updates from Ratchet and Shockwave had requested a low-priority meeting due to some odd anomalies. Megatron was aiming for the elevator at the end of the corridor when the sound of big clawed paws echoed from around the corner.

A huge mech lion leisurely walked towards him, red lean body with a mane made out of white sharp quills, his shoulder’s height reached easily Megatron’s elbow, and on his back a saddle held four crates, two per each side, containing tablets and what seemed medical equipment.

“Doctor, good morning.” Megatron easily recognized one of Sharpenclaw’s four mods.

The lion tilted his big head in salute, “A morning starting with repairs, sir.” He stopped, sitting down a few feet back from him and just stared as Megatron approached closer. “I presume he said yes?” A big toothy grin appeared on the felid muzzle.

The tall mech stopped in surprise, annoyance colored his face. “How on Earth did you see it from down there?” One of his fists moved to his chest as if to make sure the va-iik wasn’t exposed.

Sharpenclaw’s expression returned quickly neutral. He blinked. “See the ever-so-slight limp you’re so trying to hide? You can fool civilians, but even a nurse in-training could easily spot that, sir. I was also merely joking, but I’m glad things worked out nicely between you and your partner.” He gingerly got back on his paws and walked next to him, “My living quarters are much nearer than my office, no need for equipment for a simple hip realignment. Free of charge.”

Megatron let him walk past, barely containing himself, his vents whirring hot for a very brief second of embarrassment and rage. He took a very deep in-vent to cool down and turned on his heels. The gall of that mech. And he followed the lion to his quarters.

Sharpenclaw’s main room was a wide space with a simple desk in the back at the very center and a “coffee table” with two comfortable looking sofas in a corner. All around there were shelves upon shelves of tablets and books divided in sections for Cybertronian Medicine, Human Medicine and Terran Medicine. The latter was kept with some room to fill as new things about the Terrans were discovered almost every day. Among those shelves there were rare empty ones which he had used as resting spots, being a big cat he too liked being high up to admire plebs from above. Also he had developed a passion for wood and he had acquired within years a lot of wooden covering to hide the metal and concrete surfaces of his quarters. The reinforced titanium column in the far corner was colored as a huge tree trunk and obviously used a scratching pole.

Sharpenclaw placed down the crates using his four tentacles, which appeared from his back, and transformed back to his usual lanky mech look. “Now,” he turned to face Megatron, who simply stood in the middle of the room. “I also see an awful amount of cover-up on your neck.” He pointed with a claw at the metal paste generously spread on the neck cordons to hide bite marks.

“That can wait.”

The doctor shrugged, “Suit yourself.” He said nonchalantly. “By your stance, you also have a frayed cable, no doubt. Still a quick fix if you are in a hurry.”

“Let’s just get it over with.”

With a nod, the doctor gave a silent command to an operation table to appear from the floor and Megatron comfily laid down on it. The medic got quickly to analyze the joint and shook his head. “Uh, I was wrong. It’s two frayed cables. No inner layers exposed at least. And all misaligned of course. Did you wake up feeling it at all?”

“Dead weight. But it felt almost normal within a few minutes.”

“Should I later check Optimus as well?” He dared a little smirk.

Megatron blinked slowly. “Getting cocky, doctor.”

“Just respectfully doing my job as your personal medic.”

Sharpenclaw sat on a stool and used his tentacle ends and thin tools that protruded from his finger tips to easily patch him up in less than thirty seconds. “Done. I’ll realign as you stand up. Now,” his stool glided towards the head of the table, “want me to check your ne-” He suddenly froze as his optics fell on the va-iik.

Megatron looked up at him, frowning. “Doctor…?”

“I… wasn’t expecting to see that.” A touched smile grew on his hard featured face. “My biggest congratulations, sir. To you and your Conjunx.” Megatron nodded in thanks, a bit taken aback. “I’m sure Optimus is showing his off.” The doctor added cheekily, “Half town must know by now.”

“Half the goddamn State, doctor.” He scoffed and sat up, already feeling the difference at his hip. “Tell me, when was the last time you saw one of these?” A finger of his gently caressed the shiny cyan pearl.

Sharpenclaw seemed to deeply think about it, “I… saw none during the war… but quite a number before it. I guess… the last one I saw was mine.”

Megatron’s head tilted in astonishment. It was true that va-iik weren’t always guaranteed among Conjunxes, even the most passionate, united couples could live on without a pearl signing their status. Megatron also never noticed anything on Sharpenclaw’s neck despite being fully exposed.

“You couldn’t know, sir, but yes, I had one too.” A series of very small panels drew back from his cordons, exposing a spent, empty pearl of the same color of his wiring parts. “Va-iik can be incredibly fragile. You need to keep nurturing it, if you want it to shine just as bright as your partner’s spark. When my bond with Windchaser got broken, scarring my spark, unfortunately my va-iik simply dried out.” The small panels quickly covered again the remains of his old connection. “Come on, on your feet, I’m not here for your pity.” He grunted, waiting for him to stand. “Now that both of you have it, it’s your duty to keep it healthy, think it as an extension of your relationship.”

“As you said… A Conjunx life is a marvelous thing, right?”

“Absolutely. Now, give me your arm,” He didn’t wait and grabbed his left arm on his own. He held it extremely tightly in his hands, pulling it towards himself. “This will hurt me more than it’ll hurt you.”

“What you mea-”

Hard to say what echoed the loudest in the empty corridors of the living quarters: Megatron’s sudden scream or Sharpenclaw’s foot hitting his hip to realign a single gear back into the socket.

A series of fast taps heavily drummed in line all over his back until they reached his neck and focused on his temple. Thrash groaned awake and waved an arm to shoo whoever was having fun.

“Ehy! Come on! Up you go! The sun is shining, you snoring walking toaster!”

“Twitch… ugh… for Quintus’ sake!” He pulled the blanket over his head, “Go bother Shade…”

Twitch was lazily hovering above him, lying in midair on her back, and she smoothly landed on his, getting quite comfy with her leg propped on a knee and arms behind her head. “Oh I would, but they are busy having a chit chat breakfast with Atlan upstairs.”

Thrash’s head peeked out from the blanket in half a second. “Atlan is here?”

“He came here to talk about work, something about next class’ topics, but if you ask me, he came all the way up here to check on you.” She giggled, “He even brought treats.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!” He bolted from his berth sending her flying and quickly wobbled on his wheels only to be abruptly stopped by her catching the back of his collar.

“Whoa whoa whoaaa! Where do you think you’re going?!” She twirled him around and firmly grabbed his shoulders, “You can’t go out like that!”

“Wha-Why? How do I look?”

She gave him a good hard look, scanning him from head to wheel. He surely wasn’t looking as sharp as a fresh rose, wax residues over his chest, crooked goggles, wrinkled cheek from a bad sleeping position, shoulder kibble all up and down, dim optic lights. “Stunning…” She flew behind his back and forcefully pushed him towards their cleaning-room. “Let’s get you fixed up!”

Upstairs, right outside the corner of the house that has been transformed into a small veranda, sat Nightshade and Atlan at a table sipping a good drink and energetically talking about the class topics, reorganizing tablets and papers in a better presentation on Atlan’s laptop. Next to them, sitting on a log, was Breakdown, just lazily listening to their conversation sipping from a container that clearly had a “B.B’s” tag on and cuddling one of the two cats that chose him as the perfect napping tree. He had a cat in arm and one in his collar, all purring content. Another cat was rolled up on Nightshade’s lap. Inside the corner of the house, Alex could be seen moving around the kitchen as he cooked and prepared treats, time to time adding little feedback on how the topics should be rearranged to have a better flow for the students.

Thrash finally emerged from the bunker all refreshed and cleaned, all his joints well-oiled and all his kibble utterly glossed up. Twitch even jokingly tried to make him wear one of Hashtag’s lip-glosses, to which Thrash protested offended, he was shining way too much already.

“And here’s our favorite sleepy head,” Breakdown teased while all three cats happily trotted towards Thrash to give him a proper welcome with cuddles and loud meows.

Thrash picked them all up and let them climb on his shoulders while giving BD a roll of optics. “Morning, morning,” Nightshade pulled a chair out for him and made him sit between them and Atlan.

Twitch remained hovering in the air, but seeing Alex struggling with a tower of items, she flew inside to help him.

“Ehy, morning, Vents, you scared me last night, I thought you were a goner!” He clearly joked.

“Nah, man, I told you I’m not easy to dispose of! While coming home I had to fight an alien invasion, stopped a bridge from collapsing and saved Big Foot from poachers,” He proudly joked, puffing out his chest and winking.

Nightshade and Breakdown shared a look, both biting their own lips. “You just got home and crashed to berth,” The owl bot said from behind the cup before struggling to not gasp in pain as a foot kicked their shin.

“This is why humor today is dead with the likes of you two roaming free,” Thrash hissed through his teeth, glaring at his sibling and the big mech, who was snickering on his own.

“Come on, now, kids, behave, behave,” Alex chimed as he walked behind Thrash serving him a rich breakfast. He also gave him a good fatherly squeeze on his shoulder, stealing one of the cats to keep on his lap as he joined them at the big table.

Atlan was still laughing when he pulled out a little metal box from his bag, offering it to Thrash. “I got you these, I hope you like them. I have them quite often when I’m on low energy, they give you a huge boost!” They were a sort of little candies, enriched with copper, iron and other needed metals, similar to vitamins and magnesium boosters for humans.

Thrash gladly took the box, a bit touched, “O-oh thank you, yeah after yesterday’s work I believe I need these a lot,” Atlan smiled glad.

“Did you check the latest reports? The teams worked all night long.” Twitch said, hovering behind Thrash with her arms around his neck.

Indeed as he had woken up, he found his work chat filled with reports, one sent every 30 minutes, but yeah, he didn’t read any. He quickly took a bite, holding his fork in his mouth and made his holo-screen pop from his gauntlet. “They sfill going wifh thif weafher?” The night had gone by lulled by a soft wind and clouds covering the sky, during the morning there was still a good breeze, but it was still calling for a storm for sure, which was predicted to arrive in the late afternoon. The park had been closed off to public so maintenance heavy workers could roam in with ease to reach the damaged areas. During the night a lot of cleaning had been done and geologists were still intensely studying the phenomenon and veterinarians were on patrol to help injured wild animals. Luckily there weren’t many because the wildlife had surprisingly moved elsewhere before the huge dissent. Teams 1, 2 and 3 were set to give a shift change at 9am, earlier on call if emergencies, but seeing the reports everything seemed under control. “The botanists will be happy after the ground has been secured, I bet they’re already there trembling with enthusiasm to plant new trees,” He chuckled pleased and looked at Nightshade, “News about that weird glitch?”

“Mom is sending the cameras to my lab later, she said the whole system is on alarm, but nothing is triggering it. And Hashtag found out so many episodes of this same glitch in many parts of the Country.”

“You think they are all linked?”

“Hard to say, she’s studying all the coding online as we speak and so far she found nothing.”

“I bet it’s hackers.”

“She would have seen it by now, I’m sure.”

Alex had grasped a couple of Atlan’s documents to check and silently suggested him to switch the style of a couple of graphics, Nightshade agreed and added a couple of detailed notes.

“When do you have class?” Thrash asked.

“In 45 minutes and I finish at 3pm like yesterday,” he answered flipping pages and typing on his laptop, “but this next topic is quite complex, I needed a little help to sort it out.

Thrash and Twitch let the professors work and Breakdown time to time simply moved his optics away from his own holo-screen -he was in chat with Bee- and observed interested how the young bike Terran’s expression changed. Thrash was trying to look disinterested, but he couldn’t hide how entranced he was by Atlan. He looked at him with fascination while the other brainstormed, showing to be witty, quick in problem solving and had an incredibly good memory on topics and knew how to reformulate the discourse to have it more understandable even to people who had absolutely no clue of what they were talking about. He was a good listener too and took suggestions and criticism to heart.

Thrash couldn’t detach his optics off of him.

It was then time for Atlan to go to class and out of nowhere Breakdown offered to accompany him before anyone could. Everyone looked a bit surprised and he used an excuse to reach Bee at the HQs, the College was on the way. “Let’s see if you can keep up with me, kid.” He teased and Alex wiggled a scolding finger at the mech as reminder that the highway wasn’t a race track.

“You better go slow or I’ll tell Bee!”

“Pffffffine.” Breakdown pouted.

Atlan shook hands with Nightshade and Alex, thanking them for the precious help and breakfast, and gasped at the surprise quick hug Twitch gave him. He laughed and thanked her too. Then turned to Thrash. “Well, Vents, catch you later, hm?”

“If weather and work allow it, I’ll come get you and I’ll show you the panoramic paths. Or the best shops downtown if you like.”

Atlan adjusted his backpack over his shoulder, his smile growing the longer he listened to him, “I’d love that.” He shook his gauntlet, “I’ll be waiting for your messages in case.” He winked and smoothly transformed, quickly moving next to the race car, off to the main roads.

The other Maltos all shared a knowing look and hid a giggle before all going back inside to clean the dishes.

Breakdown guided the little bike down the road, at first silently, but he soon broke the quiet. “A word, kid?”

Atlan was driving leisurely next to him, the highway was pretty much empty at that hour. “Yes, sir?”

The cybertronian scoffed at such formality, he had earlier told him it was ok to not use it. “May sound abrupt, but I want to make sure of a couple of things.” Atlan remained in silence, not sure of where it was going, “I sure noticed how Thrash looks at you, you certainly seem to have a very positive effect on him, haven’t heard his vents whir so loudly and seen him smile so brightly in a while,” If Atlan could blush, he’d be lava red, with his own vents making a lot of noise. He wanted to shyly add that Thrash was having a good effect on him as well, that he enjoyed his company a lot despite having knowing him for just a few days, but he didn’t get the chance, “But there are things that worry me and they might worry also his family. I’m sure you’re a good kid, to me you look honest, kind with your spark in the right place, but… I don’t want him to get hurt, I deeply care about him and his siblings. Thrash is a sweet mech, loyal and strong willed, but he has been having a lot on his mind lately. Whatever you decide to be, I want you to respect him, you better treat him well.”

Atlan felt somewhat a little threatened and had a moment where he slowed down, although BD’s tone wasn’t rough, it was mostly full of concern. He revved back next to him and with a confident tone he said, “I have no reason to hurt him or his family, sir! They all offered me a great support and I really do want to honor them doing my best! And Thrash has simply been a gentlebot with me, I have no reason to be a fucking goddamn brown snake stuck in his engine, mate!” His Aussie accent got more and more intense the more he talked, getting now a little bit revved up himself, “I enjoyed my time with him and I honestly cannot wait to meet him again after work,” He huffed.

Breakdown didn’t say a word for a short awkward moment, until he simply snorted, satisfied, “Eh. You’re a good lad.”

They continued their short drive with a positive note, one feeling that Thrash was in good hands and the other feeling somewhat more accepted.

Megatron huffed with relief when he stopped in the elevator, giving his poor hip a break from walking. Sharpenclaw sure worked his magic and fixed him, but not even a war wound had hurt as much as his kick… or he was just getting too old…

Room 19-84

When the doors opened he only found Shockwave at the main console, sitting, waiting. Around him all the screens were on showing still images.

“Report.” Megatron said coldly in Cybertronian, almost out of habit. “Where is the rest of the team?”

“Partly working in the Archives. Partly working in the Communication room hoping to enhance the signal. I handle the rest.” He responded in their native language, his tone thundering and detached.

“Continue.”

“There have been a series of interesting reports in the last 18h.” On one of the screens a map of the USA appeared freckled with rare red dots, timed the previous day in the afternoon, “More quickly appeared.” All North America was now freckled, some dots appeared in other continents too. “And now less are present, but some are constant in specific areas.

I initially discarded the issue thinking it was a minor series of natural events, they were reported mostly as simple electromagnetic pulses and the majority of them overlap over Quintex Wells. I didn’t analyze it until a few hours ago when we had a Groundbridge failing in Seattle. The issue has been quickly resolved.”

Whatever caused the Groundbridge to collapse must have had an immense energy.

He talked on, “Much more data has been transmitted and I received the full detailed schematics of the ship.” Between them, on the holo-screen, the whole interactable 3D map of the Quantum Leaper appeared in all its glory. A smaller holo-screen beside it, it showed a video of only a couple of seconds, presenting what it looked like a scene under a microscope of a ring appearing into existence before blinking away from view. “What I quickly discovered was the nature of these reported events, they’re not EM pulses from what could be a natural reaction of Quintex. These are portals. Blinking into existence before disappearing. I got proof when I set a trap to record one.”

Megatron was listening in silence, but he looked more concerned as his scientist went on. “You said it was a low-priority meeting.”

“Logically.”

“Continue.”

“Minor consequences due to the portals’ high energy bursts are easily manageable. But I had a theory about their origin and I investigated. As expected the Quantum Leaper is in possession of two standard sized, highly controlled Enheterium tanks,” the screen highlighted their position in the map. That kind of fuel would allow to contract and expand time at will under specific circumstances, making it so much easier to travel in space. “More than enough to allow their trip from Cybertron to Earth in such a short period of time. The name of the ship has been logically picked.
What I fear is that they have a leak. Or had.” Megatron frowned, “Knowing Brainstorm by reputation alone, the issue could have been dealt with already, but the damages will continue to spread for an unknown amount of time. I have sent a request to view their travel log.”

“What does it have to do with these miniscule portals?”

“Enheterium is a foul, often unpredictable substance that bends the laws of physics and time to other realities and beyond those. Yet it’s fundamental for excruciating long space travels helping with portals and space-time distortion. The moment the ship had set course for Earth, the consequences of that leakage –even before it happened- have travelled to this very planet.”

“How could have this leakage even happen?”

“Easiest answers of all. Either an accident or sabotage. Logically.”

Megatron considered the answer for a short moment, “If the ship had started its journey shortly after the fall of the original Spacebridge, why are we seeing the consequences only now?”

“I have no answer to that, only many theories of different nature.”

“Tell me the one you think it’s the most convincing,”

“Contact. Since that has been established, the timeline has been established. More energy focusing in one spot, more for disasters to happen.”

“Although these portals seem insignificant, Seattle accident aside.”

“They are insignificant now, but within a few hours they have been collecting more and more energy to fuel themselves. They might attract unwanted visitors or mix timelines. Which,” Megatron didn’t get the chance to ask details that Shockwave showed on the screen the list that had been privately sent to Optimus, “I already have proof of.”

The list contained the same names he had seen himself, but it was much more detailed and had about a dozen new names, none of which recognized. “I wasn’t aware of this new development.”

“It had arrived to our terminal only 15 minutes before you joined me. Optimus confidentially granted me access to show you as well. Out of the 19 listed names, 17 are categorized as quantum passengers from 8 different timelines, 2 of them have an extra label as stowaways,” the two stowaways were named Driller and Compass, a note next to them signed they simply appeared on the ship en course.

Young and Not Dangerous.

Something in Megatron told him those names sounded fake for some reason and he frowned at their photos, even their coat of colors seemed a messy attempt to cover up something. He still believed Ratchet had his reasons to label them the way he did.

“The remaining 2 names are categorized as extras, with no other data.”

Megatron saw again the same names he had seen with Optimus,

• Echo – Communication specialist – Nurse in training

               Class-1 S.E. – NOT DANGEROUS (in bright red)

• “Starbit” – Missing data – SOON TO COME

“Optimus said that this list was previously with only 5 names, 3 of which are now labeled as quantum passengers: Knock Out, Breakdown and, surprisingly, Thundercracker.” He highlighted the mechs Megatron had already seen. “The Quantum Leaper has already crossed path with different timelines and realities, gaining these new passengers.” Which was reported in the few lines written above by Ratchet himself.

“I wonder why the neglect shown in the last two names, though that “Soon to come” wasn’t present in the previous list. Any theory?”

Shockwave shook his head, his one optic unmoved. “I do wonder about the label under the name Echo. His facial features are odd and it intrigues me.”

“Have fun investigating then. Do you believe these portals might turn to be a bigger problem?”

“Logically.”

“Solution?”

“Unless the tanks can be detached from the ship, the Quantum Leaper must not enter the Solar System.”

Chapter Text

5H AFTER THE INCIDENT

Ratchet’s groan was so deep and long that anyone could have mistaken it for the ship’s main engine’s rumble. “Brainstorm… give me good news, you at least.”

“Well,” Brainstorm’s voice came from the intercom, “it’s not perfect good news, but not even disastrous bad news, it’s bits of good news, particle of good news,” the silence Ratchet gave him when he was expecting him to respond with at least a chuckle made him understand all he needed, “sorry Cap, couldn’t see you were that level of cranky.”

“Just. Give me. Feedback.” Ratchet angrily hissed, visibly containing himself.

Brainstorm sighed, “Enheterium fully secured. No contamination within the ship’s walls. No bot got ever in contact with it.” He listed with a relieved tone and Ratchet too vented-out in relief. “Every uncontainable spill has been gracefully expelled and the vacuum of space did the rest. Let the void dissipate it, I, for once, won’t even dare to touch it.”

“You’re not telling me everything.” Ratchet grumbled.

“I know, I know…Percy?... Uh-hu... Mhm…Yeah, boss, we lost Tank 2. Badly damaged, practically ripped open from the inside out. And it’s still containing 5%.”

“Any chance to be able to transfer that 5% into Tank 1?”

“And put T2 in the recycle bin? Can do.”

“What about the power?”

“It’s still way too hot down there, boss, give it (12h), the guys are cooling it down neatly though. The emergency backup is fully operational and will last (weeks), I tell you.”

Ratchet in-vented deeply and leaned back against his chair, “You and your team, amazing work, keep it up. Be careful though,”

“Sure thing! Next update in (2,5h), over and out.”

For a brief moment Ratchet sat there in the dark cockpit alone, resting and enjoying the rare peace and quiet. There has been way too much commotion in the last few hours and he couldn’t afford any more stress at all. At least the sirens had stopped blaring… “First Aid, come in, First Aid.”

“At your service, Ratchet.”

“From your tone alone I sense nobody is badly hurt,”

“Indeed! Simple scratches, light burns, only one needed a small transfusion and a rewiring. No sign of poisoning of any kind.”

“Now that’s a relief.”

“Although, you should come to have a check-up as well, Ratchet.”

The captain groaned, “We’re fine, Aid.”

“Don’t make me come there with the scanner myself,”

“Aid, I said we’re fine!”

“…No worse patient than a medic,” Aid cleared his voice box, “I’m calling Drift,”

“No need, Aid,” Drift suddenly spoke from the side of Ratchet’s chair, waiting leaning against the door frame to make a dramatic entrance, “I’m here already,”

Ratchet abruptly closed the call with the medbay and turned to his conjunx. “Traitors. Both of you.”

“Doctor’s right though,” he laughed and walked up to him. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m the first one to know my own conditions here!” He stubbornly pointed a thumb against his own chest, “And I say we’re both alright!”

“Ratty…” At this point he planted both his hands on his hips.

“Don’t Ratty me! I need no scan to know my own health, I have more experience than First Aid, Ambulon and Velocity combined! I’m still the CMO!”

Drift made a face that all said Not this again… “Not on paper and you know it, Ratty! Nobody here has ever doubted your expertise, but we need everyone on the ship properly scanned –especially you!- and you’re the only one missing.” He well knew how vexed Ratchet would get when stressed and lately his mood was all over the place… so he opted for his usual tactics: he shifted his weight on one leg to tilt his pose, making his wasp waist more… visible.

“I had a general scan already I don’t ne-” Drift grinned seeing him freezing midsentence. “Stop that.”

“Stop what, Ratty?” He shifted on his other leg.

Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning deeply and loudly in-venting. “Drift,”

“Mhm, yeah, that’s my name,” he leaned forward and placed each of his hands on each armrest of Ratchet’s seat, “Would you stop being a grouch and follow me to the medbay?”

“You did not just say that,”

“I sure did,” And he kissed his headcrest, seeing him visibly relax under his touch, “Come on, let’s go and I’ll give you the best massage you will ever receive,”

Ratchet actually snorted, pressing his forehead against his, “Trying to bribe me with something you already unconditionally do every (day)?”

“Eh…” Drift gulped, laughing nervously, “I’ll give you twice as much,” He added quickly. “Please, for Crux.”

Ratchet gave him an annoyed look and sighed. He knew that his conjunx’s worrying wasn’t due to lack of trust, Drift too has been quite tense lately and Ratchet was ready to give him all the reassurance he needed, so he gave in with a loud, long sigh. “Alright. Help me up.”

Drift quickly brought his hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles and smoothly pulled him up on his feet, moving an arm behind his big frame. The other mech huffed and stretched his back, making the already puffed-out curve of his abdomen stick out even more. As he straightened up, the bulk of his frame almost entirely hid the belly protrusion, but he was still visibly carrying.

Drift and Ratchet were quite a couple, full of contrasts in any shape and form and yet perfectly balancing each other and having an incredibly strong, healthy bond. Drift was slender and agile, a perfect sword fighter, nimble and precise; Ratchet was bulkier, only a few inches shorter than him, built for strength to –as he often stated- wrangle unwilling patients. Drift was a spiritualist; Ratchet a scientist. Drift was more for talking; Ratchet more for action. And so many more. Yet the most evident and probably the funniest contrast between them was how many thought Drift was way younger than Ratchet, looking as if he was half his age. He simply was not. Drift was actually roughly 500 human years older than Ratchet.

His secret, as he specified himself, was good healthy practices, lots of self-care, good diet, meditation and a generous amount of alloy creams to keep metallic decay at bay. Things he religiously practiced every day of his life after coming out from his drug addiction, to which he had to thank Ratchet for as he had patched him up clean upon their first meeting before the war, even during his Decepticon days, despite not as much.

Ratchet’s secret to aging was just stress.

They’ve been conjunxes for millennia.

Crux was a very recent new development. Unexpected too and for a few goddamn reasons.

First of all, the whole population of Cybertron hasn’t seen a sparkling since the very beginning of the war. For centuries there has been a debate whether the conflict caused so much psychological trauma to the population that their biology has been literally blocked by survival instincts. Uncountable theories were formed… after hundreds of thousands of years of conflict the topic was utterly forgotten, the thought of new life became almost a myth. If new sparklings were born off-world during the war is unknown.

Second, the actual process of reproduction is rather delicate and a lot based on simple luck and timing of two processes of two intimate actions. Intimacy was nothing new to the couple, having shared multiple passionate moments during their conjunx life and they sincerely didn’t think they did anything new to trigger the carrying.
The morning of the discovery had nothing different from any other morning, if not for Ratchet feeling slightly off, but then he had been feeling more tired than usual for a few days already and Drift had read his aura simply certifying that he needed rest, quantum travelling had a toll on everyone onboard in different ways. When later on Ratchet’s forge suddenly pinged a new protocol into his UI he almost had a spark-attack right there on the captain seat. He had rushed to the medbay to see First Aid immediately.
The news was taken quite well, all things considered… Ratchet remained in a silent shocked state for only a couple of hours and Drift, once quickly called to join the medbay, had something similar to a panic attack only once. Later, First Aid had to take a two day break.
Once all their circuits cooled down, Ratchet and Drift had a rather long, tender and touching talk about the situation and simply naturally decided to give it a chance, despite the many fears and dangers it’d bring. For the first few days, they left command to Ultra Magnus and navigation remained to Rodimus, just long enough for the couple to take a few key decisions. At their return to command, they broke the news to the whole crew and passengers.

Third, a carrying on a quantum travelling ship was unheard of. There were rare journals from different cybertronian ships before the war that have been saved and restored back in the old capital, on which carryings were documented in details. Due to the conflict, many archives have been destroyed and many important files have been lost, though one of the main projects on Cybertron was exactly the restoration of lost data and it was led by one of the oldest conjunxed couples, being Cyclonus and Tailgate. Their memory had been unbelievably precious.
The Quantum Leaper had started its long journey roughly one human year after the Spacebridge had collapsed and it was immediately caught by the effect of the Enheterium spillage that had yet to come the moment Ratchet and Drift had bought the ship. At first they went unnoticed, but Brainstorm had quickly caught sight of the microscopic portals blinking into existence, causing little troubles. At first he couldn’t say what was their origin, but he of course came prepared and had his theories. The Enheterium tanks were triple secured to contain damage as much as possible and good thing it was done or the ship would have been doomed to never reach Earth.
The first main quantum crossing happened just a month after departure and the first quantum passenger has been Thundercracker. The ship came across with a small planetoid that should have not been where it was and Ratchet had decided to investigate and take chance to refuel in the port they found. Though the planetoid was abandoned and the small settlements destroyed, they found Thundercracker in desperate need of medical attention. His brother Skywarp, being a passenger, stayed close to him since then. He was sure he had died and Brainstorm and Perceptor investigated as they got odd readings from TC. Skywarp was unfortunately right, his brother had died and this new Thundercracker was still him, but from a different timeline. Since then major new precautions were taken, but during their travelling more and more quantum crossings happened, making it hard in a couple of occasions to be sure they were still on their own original timeline.
Despite being effectively travelling for about a quarter of a human century, for them it’s been way a longer time, about 150 years. This odd difference was one of the complicated consequences of the spillage, but it wasn’t an issue at all for the cybertronians as long as they arrived to destination as soon as possible. If they hadn’t had any Enheterium engine, their trip from Cybertron to Earth would have lasted hundreds of thousands of years.

This got slightly more complicated as Ratchet found out to be carrying, that set an immediate stop to quantum travelling, at first at least. The news to everyone onboard caused in the beginning a huge excitement, soon followed by confusion, fear for the trip and fear for their captain’s health. Many, many came forward to provide any help possible and soon Ratchet and Drift were flooded with gifts of any kind, causing a really touching moment where, when seeing almost everything was handmade, they realized how much respect and affection their crew showed them. Despite being on a schedule, they allowed the ship to have a small break with a divine dinner party.

After that, a first wave of tests were run and, as expected and feared, Enheterium had an effect on the carrying itself and the development of the sparkling. A whole gestation would normally last an incredibly long time in human terms and depending on the class of a cybertronian it would last from 3 years (for small-sized classes) to 20+ years (for way bigger sized classes).
Ratchet’s would last 7 years and 5 months. Or so he and his medical team thought. When the first contact with Earth was made, he’d been carrying for 5 years and a month already and his sparkling was already on the last stage of development. Whenever Ratchet checked his own journal, Drift joked that the sparkling’s development looked like a rollercoaster instead of a smooth curve. It was somewhat funny at times when Ratchet felt these strong pangs where he slowly but surely consumed the same amount of nutrients five cybertronians would in a couple of days combined… there the development chart would have a huge peak. Other times, it would have a flat, where Ratchet didn’t feel the need for any extra supplement.
Despite all of that, the sparkling was incredibly healthy and neither him nor Ratchet had any complications. Drift too started developing the right organs for nurturing and taking care of the sparkling once he’d arrive and he often had the need to consume and store more magnetic natured components and simple energon mixes rich of basic metals.

Within only a few months from the news, quantum travelling was cautiously restored for the final bit of the trip to no bad consequences.

Also, speaking of the aftermath of sharing the news with the crew, a few notable things soon came obvious and Ratchet and Drift made a game out of it. There’s have been a sort of frenzy among the many conjunxed couples onboard and Ratchet and Drift would absolutely judge all of them from their own private table in the dining hall. The captain table was sort of secluded against the wall, raised too and close to the kitchens and from up there they sure had their bingo game.

“So, who do we have today?” Drift would ask as he brought his companion a nice full plate and a rich drink. A tablet would flip out of his hip compartment, flashing a list of all the conjunxed couples onboard.

“Just saw Breakdown and Knockout.” He snorted, “Look at the big guy, he can barely walk.” He sipped from his drink.

Drift gingerly ticked the couple on his list, “My, oh my. True, Breakdown is basically dragging himself,”

“And Knock is almost skipping like a kedari (frog).”

“UH! Look!” Drift whispered leaning against his shoulder, his optics aiming at Perceptor and Brainstorm entering the big room, walking among the other bots to reach the dispensers. They’ve been eyeing the couple for a while. They both eagerly waited, staring at them, following their movements as hawks eyeing an easy prey. They noticed Brainstorm walking behind, odd of him, and when the mech stopped in front of the many dispensers, they saw him straightening his back and Percy patting him on the lower part of it. He sure was sore and not from work. Ratchet and Drift shared a look before bursting out laughing, and with that they also ticked that couple on their list.

So far, Ratchet was the only one sparked.

The decision of a name has been a good challenge and finding something that would satisfy both parents was a quest of its own. Drift didn’t want anything too medic-y and Ratchet didn’t want to hear anything too spiritualistic. They opted at first for something that recalled old stars, but they were in the end too complex, although a cute nickname started to be used between them that even the medical team started using too and “Starbit” got stuck when they were all referring to the sparkling.
“Crux” was eventually chosen after a long list.

Ratchet walked into the medbay with his usual assertive pace, quickly followed by his companion. The bay was composed by a main hall where patients would be quickly looked at and then guided to a long room to the right to be properly tested. It then branched out to other small different rooms for thorough check-ups and deeper analyses. To the left there were the medics’ offices and in the center there were single stations for patients who needed to be kept under surveillance for long times. The nurse at the desk quickly announced First Aid would arrive immediately, but Ratchet barely heard him as he headed to the room on the right out of pure habit. Always a medic at heart, he went to check the current patients. He shared a few words with them and the nurses working, making sure everyone was alright. His presence though did make the youngest nurses a bit anxious, but Ratchet was never invasive and let them work in peace. Everyone seemed fine, minor little things, easily patchable too, and every single one of them saluted the captain with warmth.

He then came across the two latest additions to the passenger list, a couple of stowaways who had appeared on the ship out of nowhere only five days before. They were both very young in cybertronian terms, barely adults and clearly born as sparklings, neither forged nor constructed cold. They were practically peers if not for a little age difference. One was smaller in size, barely reaching Ratchet’s shoulder at full height, slender frame, three-pointed headcrest on his helmet, with round smooth features in his armor, signing a ground vehicle. This was Driller, the shyest of the two who never managed to look Ratchet in the optics. His paintjob was an odd one, mostly black with yellow striped bands which were randomly placed around his joints and limbs, his face a light grey, his optics were a bright cyan. His friend was a bit taller with wider shoulders and with a slightly thicker armor and bucket helm with one tall antennae on the left audial, his paintjob was in the same style of the other mech, mostly purple and white, grey faceplate and details, bright orange optics. This was Compass, a bit of a short-tempered kid, but still smart enough to not lose his cool, his alt-mode seemed to be a jet. Their names and their paintjobs made absolutely no sense… they seemed on the run, hiding something and trying to lay low.

The ship had come across multiple timelines during its journey, about 25 in total, always actively choosing to interact. Not every interaction was eventful, in a couple of times nothing happened, simple refueling, market browsing, a chance for a drink and off the ship went. In others they gained new passengers which were thoroughly checked before being granted access to the ship, many had not been allowed onboard. With these two youngsters it was the first time a timeline abruptly crossed their path, a portal blinked into existence in the middle of the engine room and the two cybertronians simply fell out of it. The engineers working there immediately sounded the alarm and the two were quickly caught into custody, their belongings confiscated and taken to Ultra Magnus’ interrogating room.  Brainstorm took charge of investigating their curious gadgets and within a few hours he was able to tell how they had managed to get onboard, further analysis on them with his own devices confirmed his words: the youngsters were from a new timeline and they had used an Enheterium radar to jump. Their only reason to do so was to reach a safer reality from their own, not adding details, just that the device they used was given by a friend of theirs who remained behind.

They weren’t very talkative and clearly looked in shock at first. After a proper scan no weapons were found on their frames nor any disease, so they were isolated and taken care of, giving them a good room to rest in and a lot of nutrients. A nurse and a psychologist were set to follow them. Although, Drift had decided to still give them also a guardian to both guide them around and keep a good eye on them, something was triggering his senses and he couldn’t pin down what it was, especially when he looked at Driller…

And so Ratchet approached them, noticing Echo applying a simple reinforcement on Drill’s thigh since the kid had been shaken during the incident and he was lightly hurt. “Nothing to worry about, I presume,”

Echo shook his head slowly and wrapped the patching up. “They are sturdy.”

“How are your hands, kid?”

Driller flinched and quickly collected his hands close to his frame, “They don’t… itch anymore, sir.” Since their first scan, Driller has been nervous about showing his hands, saying they were problematic due to his previous job which ruined them, but First Aid had found nothing about them if not for a thick sensory protection.

Ratchet nodded and turned to Compass, who quickly got at attention, “What about you?”

“Nothing to declare, sir.” He quickly said as if under interrogation.

Both of them looked very tense and part of it, Ratchet thought, was Echo’s presence. He was the guardian Drift had chosen for them, as well as their nurse, and when you have a mech like Echo onboard, you don’t need any kind of prison cell. Probably his joining on the Quantum leaper at the very beginning has caused a lot of volunteers to retreat from the quest.

Echo was a very tall, lanky mech, his armor very thin giving an agility no other mech onboard had. His general features were very sharp and his cheeks hollow, which he hid behind a mask that covered his mouth and nose, thing he cheekily called a muzzle. His helm was crown like with three points bend slightly backwards and he had kibble structures arching over his back like a sort of small cape, properly hiding his six long tentacles he kept tight underneath. He used them often when he was working, but he often had to file the ends down due to the sharp hooks, thing he also did for his claws. He had very neutral colors of dark greys on inner parts and lighter tones on the armor and his helmet had some elegant hints of purple. His optics though popped right out with their rich red colored center and black sclera, signed too by odd black markings starting from the side of his optics down to his abdomen. Right on both his sides, two small bright yellow tanks were mounted tightly into his frame, which fueled him with a concoction Brainstorm came up with to keep him nourished and at peace.

It does take a while to get used to his look, even longer to his movements. He didn’t do it on purpose, but due to his nature he moved around slowly and silently and even just how he bent his arms or how he turned his head gave everyone the creeps.

The thing was that poor Echo was a Class 1 Sparkeater, a creature that shouldn’t exist, shouldn’t think, a predator so dangerous that keeping one alive was a crime. And yet Echo had somehow remained lucid, all his neurological functions perfectly intact, his mind unbroken, which he initially said was a curse.

Echo was a kind soul though, a very decent mech, polite and loyal, with a dry sense of humor and an audial always out for whoever needs. He was a communication expert, Ratchet had to thank him for making it possible to have a very early contact with Earth, but due to his new incredible ability to sniff out spark diseases, he was offered to study medicine and, upon accepting, Ambulon happily volunteered to be his mentor. He quickly showed to be a good nurse.

He and Drift had known each other for a very long time, meeting when the swordmech had joined the Autobots, but eventually got separated when Echo was offered a new position on a far moon base. They kept in touch for a long period, but then Echo suddenly went silent. Expeditions were sent to see why the whole base too went silent, but no mech was ever found in the ruins.
Echo was much later found only by pure chance when Drift, Ratchet and Brainstorm needing to find a quantum ship seller, they ended up on a very far planetoid, where they discovered a secret illegal Pit. There gladiators and prisoners were forced to fight against alien beasts and the weakest were fed to the sparkeaters. Echo was the highlight of the show being still conscious, the patrons loved seeing him struggle to control his hunger.
He was found in a cell in awful conditions, chained and starved. Drift had immediately recognized him and begged his companions to help getting him free. Three mechs alone couldn’t do much, but Brainstorm, being the genius he was, came up with something highly explosive. In the pandemonium he created, the three of them managed to get Echo’s cell open and transported him out still tightly contained and muzzled as suggested by the bot himself and collected him on onboard of their new ship. Once everything settled down, the High Command Forces were called and the planetoid was taken under the new post-war laws.
Echo was quickly checked, healed and secured and after a long work with psychologists, he pulled himself together and found a new purpose on the Quantum leaper. Initially he had asked to still be contained, not fully trusting himself to be left roaming free, but with time he saw the positive effects of Brainstorm’s tanks and since then he never went berserk ever again. In rare occasion he still felt his predator instincts being tickled, but he never listened to them.

Echo couldn’t remember how he turned into a Sparkeater, much of his memory was a messy blur, he only remembers the base being under attack and many of his coworkers being captured. When he started remembering being in the Pit he was alone, no other of his friends and coworkers were there.

Everyone on the ship knew Echo and his story. Of course at the beginning, all of them still feared him despite the guaranty of Brainstorm’s work on him, but slowly everyone started warming up to him and he was now a well-respected member of the crew.

Ratchet patted Echo on the shoulder and whispered “Don’t scare them too much,”

The tall guy’s optics squinted as he smiled under the mask, “Can’t promise that, Ratchet. I might get hungry.”

The doctor snorted and squeezed his arm as sign to cut it out and moved on to other patients, time to time tightening what he thought was a loose patch.

“Psst, Amb, pssst!” Drift was waiting in the main hall at the door of the right wing when he saw Ambulon entering, “He’s stealing your job again.” He toothily grinned pointing with a thumb over his shoulder at his conjunx checking their patients.

“Oh Primus, give me strength!” The medbot dropped all the documents he was holding on the counter and rushed to collect his boss, “Ratchet!” He yelled in a whisper to not bother the mechs in the room.

“Caught you red-handed, captain,” The lady mech Ratchet was inspecting whispered at him with a chuckle.

“Shush you,” he responded in a fatherly tone and with the same jokily doing, he gently pressed a tiny patch across her lips, making her laugh.

Ambulon’s stomping stopped only a few steps from him. “To First Aid’s office. Now.” An arm stretched out with a finger aggressively pointing at the opposite side.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in defeat, “I’ll come willingly. It sure got boring here since I left the bay.”

Ambulon sighed deeply and let him go first, Drift was simply enjoying the show from the door.

First Aid was anxiously waiting for them at his desk, in front of him on the screen all the data Ratchet had shared on his journal and his full medical record. “Glad to see you here, Ratchet,” He warmly said, getting up to help him on the examination chair. “Thank you, Drift, for getting him,” he whispered to the swordmech.

Ratchet didn’t need any help and he grumbled as he sat down, leaning back and setting his hands over his chest.

“Perfect, now relax and,”

“Aid,” Ratchet called him out with a scolding tone, he didn’t need any assistance.

“Right, right.” He pulled down an arm ending with a soft cup which he gently pressed on Ratchet’s abdomen, first on the side, then let it slide around as the scanner worked showing results on a second screen.

“Everything is alright, Aid,” Ratchet said, half a grin forming on his faceplate.

“A self-scan in the cockpit is not a proper medical scan!” Aid almost lost his cool at his boss’ teasing, before sighing, “There’s no more difficult patient in the whole ship than you!”

Drift barely held a snort, “You’re enjoying this way too much,” he told Ratchet as he saw him chuckling.

Aid looked up at Drift, “Can I use the cup on his face?”

“Be my guest,”

“Ehy! I’m still your boss, I can drop both of you off on the next stop!”

“You would never with me!” Drift laughed.

“Don’t tempt me!”

Drift squeezed his shoulder to calm him down, only managing to make him grumble aloud.

That kind of scanner was more powerful than any other normal one for routine tests and quickly ran down a list of data about all Ratchet and Crux’s intakes. They were both incredibly healthy and well balanced despite the odd grow spurts and flats. The recent incident luckily brought nothing to either of them. Hearing that, Drift visibly sighed full of relief, squeezing the hand Ratchet offered.

“And as usual a nice pic…” He moved the scanner around until he was happy with the angle, “And here he is, the little prince…” On the screen a bright little bean-shaped frame appeared in a grey area, all four limbs tightly tucked against his little body and a round head with little hints of a crowned helmet tightly hidden. “Camera shy again I see,” He took multiple pictures trying different angles.

Ratchet observed with proud optics until he got distracted by a shiver. He looked up at Drift, who still clutched his hand in his, hiding half of his face in the other. Every time he witnessed his little Crux moving on the screen a strong overwhelming wave of emotions hit him hard enough to make him shake and he struggled to keep himself in check. Ratchet promptly freed his hand and wrapped his arm around his hips, pulling him closer to calm him down until Aid was done with the last analysis.

First Aid checked the cordon behind Crux’s nape and nodded satisfied to see working well. “And he’s roughly 89% complete. Again, way ahead of schedule, but nothing to declare. Healthy neuro-system, strong components in frame, excellent immune system. Good!” He turned everything off and moved the scanner upwards, “Although, Ratchet, you need a good recharge, you’re too close to reserve for my likings.”

“This once I’ll have to agree, the last few hours took a toll…”

“You do that,” Drift stepped in, “I’ll continue the checks,”

“And get a full report from Magnus,”

“And… I’ll talk to Rodimus.”

Ratchet sat up, rage coloring his features as the name was mentioned, “See that you do and understand what in Primus’ name was he thinking! Before I tangle his circuits myself,”

6H AFTER THE INCIDENT

Drift had accompanied Ratchet to their room and let him recharge in peace before heading towards Ultra Magnus’ office. He knocked and was promptly let in. He still found Ultra Magnus busy in tidying and maniacally fixing all his objects and tablets on his shelves and he apologized for the mess as he couldn’t get to it earlier. He didn’t absolutely need to, everyone onboard dealt with momentary chaos as the whole system shut down, artificial gravity included, and the Quantum leaper had been shaken like maracas for a good while. Drift still thought it was a miracle nobody got seriously hurt. And nonetheless, Magnus has been busy having quite a talk with Rodimus in the adjacent interrogation room, where the mech was still locked in.

Magnus handed him a tablet with the full report of the incident and the whole transcript of their conversation and he stood still, hands behind his back looking grim.

Drift immediately caught it, “It’s not your fault, Magnus,”

“I disagree, sir. I was the one in charge and I let it happen.”

“He strictly disobeyed an order, you’re not responsible for his out-of-line actions.” He firmly said before returning to read the tablet, he refused to listen to any rebut. After reading a few pages, he angrily asked him to let him in. As the door quickly slid open Drift saw Rodimus’ head rising from the table in a sudden motion.

“AH! Thank Primus it’s you! My fantastic, marvelous Amica who came to take me out from this goddamn ro-”

“What in the name of all cosmos is this (bullshit)?!” Drift cut him short, slamming the tablet in front of him.

“Woah… ehy… you want to return later after a nice meditation bit? I can wait a little more…” He tried a smile for the joke, quite shocked to see such reaction, but Drift did not change his expression as the red mech had hoped. “E-ehy, buddy…”

“Don’t. Buddy. Me. Rodimus.” He sharply pointed a finger at him, quite livid, “Do you have any idea how serious this is?! I have fifty-four mechs in the medbay! FIFTY! FOUR! You’re lucky nobody is seriously injured!”

“Ehy, I know, I know the maneuver has been a bit… bumpy so to say…”

Drift in-vented deeply and squinted his optics, “You really cannot stop joking around, can you? How long have we been on this ship? Almost since day one we all knew we were going to have issues with the Enheterium tanks, despite the multiple precautions we still had to be careful during certain procedures! And you obliterated safety and security in one single strike!”

It was Rodimus’ time to point a finger as he stood up, moving in front of him, “I only did that to keep the ship safe! To keep everyone safe!”

Yet Drift quickly made him recoil, raising his voice, “You absolutely did not! You weren’t supposed to do such maneuver in the first place AT ALL! Magnus had everything under control and had the ship on the right route to escape from the plasma wave! Meanwhile here we have you thinking to go towards the damn thing, craving to ride it to charge already full cells, causing a serious ripple effect that could have killed us all! You did that only for the glory you still fantasize about! Being the great hero! The great captain you’ve never been! The moment you got your hands on the wheel, you fucked everything up!”

Rodimus tried a step forward, despite shaky, “I did not do it for the glory…! I did what I thought was right to…! To… To keep everyone safe!” He repeated, unsure about what to say, Drift’s raging optics were unbearable to look into.

“Magnus told you NOT TO!”

“OK! OK! I made a goddamn mistake! Is that what you want to hear?! Anyone our age could have done a mistake like that!”

Drift looked at him stunned for a long silent moment. He really wished he heard that wrong, giving his Amica the benefit of the doubt for not being actually that infantile… which unfortunately he knew he was… but another thing bothered him. “Our age…? Rodimus, you think we’re peers?!”

The red mech fidgeted, not really wanting to touch that argument. “You’re not 5 million…?”

“I’m three times your age! How do you not know it?!”

“…Ah.” Rodimus suddenly got dawned with a lot of answers he never found by himself during all the many centuries he’s been friends with Drift… and that he probably was a terrible listener.

Drift pinched the bridge of his nose really trying to dissipate his anger, miserably failing, and tried to return to the issue at hand. “No one would have made a mistake like that if HE FOLLOWED ORDERS! You and your goddamn craving of wanting to be a hero almost caused death on this ship! You could have killed all our friends!  All the many volunteers who are travelling with us to give hope to all those cybertronians forgotten on Earth! The whole project could have gone to oblivion!” At this point Drift could have pulled his own hair if he had any, his words driven by shock, and the louder he got, the more Rodimus pressed himself against the wall, “You could have killed everyone! Magnus, Aid, Echo, Nautica, Brainstorm, Perceptor, Ratchet! Me! You could have killed my sparkling!”

Rodimus could have dented the wall for how hard he was pressing himself into the panels of the room, his expression at first a mix of dread and panic, which slowly turned to rage. He grimaced and sneered as he hissed his next words, “Nobody told you to fuck Ratchet so hard to spark him up!”

The sound his jaw made under the sudden heavy impact could make a compactor recoil in horror. An horrific bloody patch colored both the wall and Drift’s now broken knuckles and Rodimus wasn’t even given time to register the punch that another hand pinned him by the throat, pressing hard on his voice-box. He was immobilized by an immense strength, the only thing he could see was the piercing optics of the swordmech looking into his in a deep reading.

That instant felt like infinity, broken only by the abrupt intervention by Magnus.

Rodimus’ voice cracked in relief once his throat was released and he dropped to the floor as his legs gave up, witnessing in a blur Drift being escorted out. The last thing he heard was Drift’s order to keep him locked up and Magnus calling for a medic.
He pulled his limbs close to his frame in shame, shaking in the resonance of regret.

Drift refused any escort and any help, he simply closed all comms and stomped his way towards his and Ratchet’s quarters, his knuckles leaking at each angry step. He was boiling inside, in his mind Rodimus’ words kept returning and echoing in a torturing mockery making him reach a level of anger he didn’t know he could feel, not even back when he was named Deadlock.

Anger…?

Within a few steps, he eventually slowly stopped, the heat of his vents dissipating in hot puffs of steam until he wasn’t panting anymore if not for regaining control.

He moved his ruined hand in his vision, it trembled out of the pain that he now was starting to feel, drenched in fluids and he didn’t know if it was his or Rodimus’. He collected that hand in his other and tried to not leak anymore since he had left a trail of droplets behind him.

What had happened in that cell…?

Since when he would lose his temper in such a way?

Drift suddenly felt sick and he had to resume his walking to help it pass. He was always collected and kept his emotions in check, never he would have dreamed of hitting Rodimus, not even when the mech actually deserved to be shut up with a slap on his mouth. Though his words hit like a sea of needles, he had never seen him so venomous nor uncaring. Sure he had always been a stubborn son of a glitch, but despite his many flows he was a good mech. He was the first one to know about the sparkling before the general announcement and he had excitedly shared his congratulations with both him and Ratchet, eager to be an honorary uncle…

And Rodimus’ eyes were screaming fear and regret…

A few more steps and Drift got caught by an immense overwhelming sense of shame and remorse. He shouldn’t have stepped in that cell as angry as he was, he shouldn’t have screamed, he shouldn’t have imagined the worst and dumped it over his friend. He should have heard him out first, calmly.

Was he being overprotective of his sparkling…? Could have he exaggerated in the fear of losing the most important thing in his life?

Quick heavy steps made him look up, immediately recognizing Ratchet heading towards him. Of course he came looking for him, after all he was still connected to the medbay calling system and he had surely heard Magnus asking for assistance.

“Ratchet… I…” Drift shivered as he whispered those words and the medic was quickly holding his hands in his. They leaned their foreheads one against the other after a long understanding look and Ratchet gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Let’s get you patched up, the last hours have been messy enough.” The doctor said in a sweet whisper, guiding his conjunx to their quarters.

12H AFTER THE INCIDENT

The room was dark when Ratchet went to sit at his desk, Drift still deeply in recharge on their berth. He had promptly fixed his knuckles and the two of them went to recharge wanting to forget the events of the day. He accessed his computer keeping the brightness of the lights as low as possible and tried to make no sound. As he heavily settled himself on the comfy chair, he felt someone complaining in a stir. He sighed and tapped with a hand the side of his abdomen to reassure the sparkling. “Easy, Bit, easy,” he whispered in a soft coo. He felt Crux relaxing and allowing him to work. Yet to emerge and being bossy already. I know where you got that from. He thought, smiling proud.

The travel log contained every single thing happening on the ship, each daily entry contained folders of reports of all imaginable kinds, the current day had the highest number of documents since the beginning of their journey. Brainstorm, as he said, kept him updated regularly and he checked each report he sent even when in recharge, waking up for a minute or two to read. All damage had been secured and fixed, the main engines cooled down enough and would start working again in a couple of hours. The Enheterium residue had been carefully transferred to the surviving tank and the other had been cleaned, compacted and recycled. For the moment the use of quantum travelling had been put on hold, after all they weren’t even that far from Earth, they could reach the planet without the use of it.

Echo had not received any update from Optimus after sending the latest update of the quantum passengers list, only an odd request from Shockwave, of all mechs. It was still weird to be collaborating with ex-Decepticons, especially of that high rank, but Ratchet couldn’t complain, many members of his crew were ex-Decepticons or briefly had been. Primus, his own conjunx used to be one too. He sighed in a soft snort, he knew Optimus would have been an awful influence from the very beginning, even when he was still called Orion Pax. When the list of cybertronians on Earth arrived, many were shocked to see Megatron, firstly, still alive, and secondly, as an ally. Many were terrified of him.
Not Ratchet though. He had known him just as long as he had known Optimus, when he was still by the name D-16. He knew both well, having been their medic for millions of years before the war. He still fondly remembers when he was still a trainee and those two were the ones he was assigned the most and probably the patients he patched up the most. They sure were older than him, but together they often acted like dumb sparklings.
When chaos happened in the capital, Ratchet had later learn that D-16 had been taken away to an unknown location and he sure remembered how desperately Orion had searched for him for a long time, before and after the Matrix had crowned him. When war fell upon Cybertron, Optimus was heartbroken to see what became of D-16 and he had sworn to stop him and bring him back on the right path. Things had gone extremely out of hands for an impossible amount of time, but Optimus had never given up on him, even when he risked his life multiple times fighting against who he thought as his dearest friend.

Indeed, Ratchet wasn’t surprised to see Megatron at Optimus’ side, nor that they were actual partners as he was told in a private letter. About the morality and the consequences of actions, it was going to be a topic that surely would be discussing about later on, but knowing Optimus, he had taken every single cybertronian under his custody of a Prime, neither faction was completely clear from judgment.

They had obliged sending Shockwave the travel log, but having had the incident Ratchet contacted Echo through inner-channel, so he didn’t need to talk out loud.

“Echo here, at your service, Ratchet.” He heard in his audial.

“Good evening, Echo, I have a new update for you to send out,”

“Sure. And I already know what it is.” Echo got his confirmation as Ratchet sent him the latest travel log entry. “I’ll send it out with the next package.”

“Any other update for me?”

“Mhm. The young stowaways are safe and oddly non-talkative as always, but they seem eager to be useful onboard.”

“Hm. We might find them something to do. I’ll summon them when things will calm down.”

Echo made a humming sound to agree. “My signal is clearer towards Earth now without the quantum disturbance. Give me a few (hours) and you might be able to have a videocall with Optimus.”

“Oh, splendid, I’m eager to talk to him,”

“I’m sure you are, doctor,” Ratchet could hear him smiling, “What are you going to talk about the most? About me, the nice civilized Sparkeater, or,” he jokingly sneered, “that little scrapball you’re so proudly carrying called Starbit?”

Ratchet rubbed his optics trying to not smile, “Tough choice. I seriously don’t know who deserves the priority.”

“I know I’m your favorite,” Echo cheekily added.

“Now, let’s not jump to conclusions,”

“Ah. I’m sure it’ll be an interesting meeting either way.”

“That is guaranteed, my dear friend,” There was an odd silence from the Sparkeater’s side, catching Ratchet’s attention, “Echo?”

“Still here,”

“… Don’t make me quote Drift, I can feel it in your… voice,” He grimaced a bit.

“Eh, you spelled <aura> wrong,”

“Echo…” Ratchet’s voice was reprimanding tone, but not aggressive, like a sweet father who caught his son lying.

The tall mech remained in silence for a long moment, “… I worry, Ratchet.”

“Understandably, but what could be any different from your position now? You’re extremely well adapted.”

“Not everyone will accept me.”

“Well, you have the whole ship by your side and I’m sure Optimus will give all himself to help you out.”

“I…” He paused another moment, considering, “Thank you, Ratchet, I mean it.” Ratchet huffed a pleased sound, but kept waiting because he knew his friend couldn’t resist adding something more to lighten up the mood, “Although, I’m tempted to wear a sign that says <I BITE> to scare the Terrans,”

“Echo.” Ratchet deeply sighed as the other mech laughed.

Ratchet remembered the small introduction Optimus had sent him about this new species born on Earth, how the first two Terrans came to life and later followed by three more, all to be eventually adopted by a human family. Ratchet had been to Earth in a few occasions not really interacting out of his base, returning to Cybertron for restocking, often staying even months to collect the most updated medical and political data with Drift, only to remain stuck after the spacebridge collapsed. When he was on the alien planet he had never heard of anything like the Terrans nor even the possibility of something similar happening. Honestly, Ratchet couldn’t help but being extremely fascinated by these new individuals and he craved to know about their biology, which he was promised to receive alongside so much other data about the planet and its population. “You know, Echo, I never asked you what you think of this new form of life?”

Echo seemed to think about it for a couple of seconds, “They have all such odd names.” Ratchet couldn’t disagree on that… “Although, it’s incredible how they got to be. I’m honestly eager to meet them.” He paused for comedic effect, “Ah, no. I mean it. I’m not interested in tasting them.”

“Echo, please stop it.” He chuckled.

The Sparkeater laughed at himself once more, “What was that tormenting phrase that famous philosopher kept repeating non-stop a while back in Kaon? You know who… Ah, yes. <Life finds a way>, he used to say.”

Philosopher wasn’t exactly the title Ratchet would give to that individual, but he had to agree he was right. As he thought so he leaned back against his seat in a soft sigh, a hand of his gently pressed below his bump, proudly feeling a certain sparkling quite active under his touch.

The ship was in deep darkness with only the emergency lights on in the main corridors and almost everyone onboard was recharging, the remaining few were still working or simply waiting it out before the ship could go back to its journey. A lanky shadow moved along those corridors, the bright lines that he had installed on his chest to signalize his presence shone as comfort. Echo met rare mechs walking around and all greeted him, getting reciprocated. Everyone was honestly pleased to meet him, giving him the constant reassurance he needed. He knew he was well accepted on the ship, but things on Earth could be very different due to one individual in particular. The thought was still tormenting him since he tried to tackle the topic with Ratchet, he wished he had not retreated and talked more about it with him.

“Going to the lab?” A mech would ask him and Echo would show them his long claws.

“Yep. Need these trimmed.”

The Sparkeater slowly walked towards the always-open door of the main lab, Brainstorm and Perceptor’s reign, and indeed he could see the couple sitting close together on a desk, lively talking about all the quantum crossings the ship had come across during its journey, followed by many drawings on many screens and the list of all the quantum passengers they had onboard, with an extra focus about the two stowaways’ still unknown timeline and their complex confiscated devices.

It had always been fascinating for Echo how conjunxes would act in the presence of each other, so trusty, so comfortable, so sweet… and so well-knowing of each other’s boundaries, strengths and weaknesses, sharing a bond he had never experienced. It was always so charming to witness whenever he met one of the many couples onboard and he couldn’t help himself wondering how would it feel like having someone to call conjunx… not that he had any high hopes seeing his current nature… he doubted there would be someone crazy enough to bond with a Sparkeater…

Echo shook his head for clearance and drummed his claws on the door frame as his typical knocking.

Brainstorm peeked forward from behind Perceptor and hopped off the desk eagerly, “Echo, lad! Come on in! Here for the usual?”

“Professors,” He greeted in a smile as he walked in, “And to see how you were doing. I see the lab is back in good shape,”

“And even better, my good mech! Even better!”

“A few structures had been damaged, but as you can see, someone got busy after his duties,” Perceptor chimed in.

“Come, come, I have upgraded your clip-o-claw-matic!”

“You scare me when you talk like that,” Echo chuckled as he was ever so gently pulled by an arm and plopped into a seat. Brainstorm instructed him to insert his hands into two distinct boxes’ fissures. “I see nothing different,”

“Oh, really?” He grinned behind his facemask as he waited.

Without any warning, Echo felt a big pressure at the tips of his fingers, felt his claws snap clean and being smothered down and waxed. All in a fraction of a second. He had gasped at the sudden action, “Well… that was a lot faster.” He inspected his hands, very impressed since his claws were unbelievably hard to clip, it took Brainstorm a long while to reach the right amount of strength to be able to do the job. “Thank you,”

“Let’s check your tentacles now,” Perceptor pressed a button and a shelf protruded from the wall so Echo could lean on. Indeed Echo was so tall that mechs would walk under his arm if he raised it. For this procedure he preferred to rest his arms and chin while standing, so also Brainstorm could work comfortably at the table. Brainstorm knocked on the back of the Sparkeater and six long, thin tentacles were unrolled from under the cape.

“Anything to report about these?”

“Nothing,”

Brainstorm analyzed each tentacle and all the claws, filing them himself with a small, yet powerful laser, the clip-o-claw-matic would have hurt Echo if used on those little talons.

Having the sides exposed, Perceptor took chance to check the tanks embed in, “Hm, I’d gave him a refill, Storm, he’s at 35% on the right and 33% on the left.” He connected his tablet to the tank journal, where he could see every action taken like refueling, usage and anomalies in detail.

“What? Already? Shouldn’t be that low.” The engineer noticed the tall mech tensing up, “Echo? Have you been nervous fueling?”

Echo guiltily looked over his shoulder, “I… might have, yes.”

Perceptor had the confirmation on the tablet, but he simply abandoned it on a table, “Have you been having nightmares again?” He carefully asked and he commanded from the console a refill. The substance was kept under very strict surveillance and only four mechs knew the commands to the refill tanks: Ratchet, Drift, Brainstorm and Perceptor, not even Echo knew the password, due to the initial thought that the substance would be addicting. Luckily it wasn’t, but to keep their friend safe and everyone else, they kept the procedure unchanged.

“No, no,” Echo quickly reassured and moved away from the shelf to sit down. “But I’ve been… worrying.” The two scientists got comfy in front of him, ready to listen, “Earlier I already had a talk with Ratchet about it, but not in real details… I fear I won’t be accepted on Earth,” He quickly raised his hands, “I know I have full support from everyone here, Ratchet told me so, but after seeing the list from Prime, I still fear it won’t be that easy,”

Perceptor connected a thick tube to one of his side tanks and let it refill, placing a hand on his back. He and Brainstorm shared a look, maybe already knowing where their friend was going. “What –or better- who is worrying you, Echo? Optimus explicitly said he’s vouching for every cybertronian on the planet.”

Echo nodded, “Even for the only one who survived the Ancient Pits. I’m sure Megatron has fought against Sparkeaters more feral than I was, I’m sure he’s still wearing scars about those encounters and I’m sure he doesn’t want to face another. If he comes to know what I am, I fear he might be able to intervene and not allow us to land…”

Brainstorm and Perceptor looked at each other with worry. Indeed that could be a problem.

Chapter Text

The sound of thunder rumbled loudly though the valley and the wind was promising a storm in less than an hour. The sky was very dark, but luckily there was no rain yet. The three siblings were quite glad of that.

Nightshade, Hashtag and JB were standing at the feet of one of the main antennae towers of the province, high up the mountains over a small plateau. That tower ended up on Hashtag’s radar the moment a peak of energy sent a few cables to fry up and the cameras of the booth at the bottom glitched even more weirdly than the ones she’s been monitoring lately. The three Terrans rushed to the scene the moment they got the signal –obviously sneaking out of the bunker after Alex and Twitch had left to go to work- and Nightshade had insisted to analyze the area themselves before the repairing team would arrive.

While Hashtag was sitting on the floor trying to connect to the camera system, Nightshade was planting a dozen of small sensor poles into the ground with the aid of JB’s tail hammering them down. They connected to them and quickly registered odd energy readings.

Jawbreaker was pacing nervously around as he waited. Something had been clearly bothering him since their arrival and now he was really showing how uncomfortable he was, and his siblings noticed. Nightshade walked up to him and offered him their good wing, which the dino-bot quickly hid under despite the trimmed feathers. “I don’t like this. I feel watched.”

“What you mean?” They asked as their holo-screen still rapidly worked into the readings.

“Are you sure it’s not the cameras?” Hashtag suggested, seeing how oddly the cameras were acting up.

The stygi-bot shook his head vigorously, “Didn’t you notice there are no animals around? Even with a storm coming, you always see some critter running or chirping about. There is something here and I want to go home.”
Jawbreaker had always been more sensitive than his siblings to changes of different nature, always well perceiving changes in pressure, temperature, weather, having a deep connection to his surroundings just like a real animal would. If he said something was out there, his family always believed him.

It’s been a long time since he acted like that.

Nightshade’s hand protectively cupped his jaw to calm him down as they downloaded all the data they needed in a rush. “We’re going, we’re going. Tag?”

 “Almost done! The system keeps booting me out! And the video files are all corrupte-AH!” She jolted surprised as one of the cameras’ eyes exploded in a myriad of glass shards. “What the…”

“What on Earth are you doing up here?!”

All three Terrans jumped in shock at the sudden screaming question, only to be greeted by a very angry drone silently buzzing over their heads.

“By Quintex’s beard, Twitch!” Hashtag angrily got on her feet, “You scared us to death!”

A loud noise of engine joined as Thrash tightly turned on the dirt track, transforming in mid-air, landing in front of the three guilty siblings, looking furious, “I knew we’d find you here! The moment the tower goes offline, I could bet my rear you’d come to investigate! If mom finds you here,” he directly talked to Nightshade, “she’d pluck all your remaining feathers! I’m tired of this routine of yours, Night!”

A sudden thump caught all their attention as the dino-bot hammered the ground. JB had moved behind Nightshade, tail up menacingly and optics into the forest below, “Guys, we need to go!” He literally started pushing them towards Hashtag with his side, away from the trees, and their sister quickly transformed to give them a ride.

“Wait! Wait! My sensors!” Nightshade tried to complain, JB wasn’t listening as he pressed on getting onboard too.

Hashtag dashed down the road, while Thrash and Twitch remained behind a moment longer, sharing a confused look. The drone-bot nodded, deciding to have a better look from way above, careful to stay way up high.

Thrash was fast behind Hashtag down the dirty road. “JB!” He called over their signal, “JB, what did you see?”

JB was rolled up against Nightshade’s side, hiding under their wing, looking quite shaken, “I-I don’t know what I saw! It was a big shadow in the trees! It was staring, it was creeping me out! I don’t know why, we fought much bigger things!” He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, “I felt like having a thousand eyes on me!”

Hashtag appeared on one of the monitors she had on the inside, “Guys, remember that mutated bear from years ago? That’s what it reminded me of, could it be another possible thing like that?”

Thrash scoffed, “Toxic dross today? Not on my watch, the park is clean! Mom has made sure of it for years!”

“Guys,” Twitch’s alarmed voice came through their channel and everyone kept quiet, “I just saw something moving deep in the trees. It was big! And fast! I lost track of it though… it was going north towards the lake. Clearly a quadruped, very light in color, almost white.”

“Maybe it was a moose?” Nightshade tried to guess, but JB energetically shook his head under his wing.

“I know a moose when I see it! This was much bigger!”

That’s all Thrash needed, he connected to the Ranger channel, both audio and text, “To all units! To all units! Team leader Thrash in Tower Quadrant. Code A-12: caught sight of an unidentified creature, proceed with extreme caution! Quadruped, very light color, bigger than a moose. It moved very fast towards North Arch Lake from the tower. Deploy guarding rangers for the repairing team.” He repeated it over the radio and quickly received a signal from all the coworkers as they received the message.

Dorothy called him on the spot, “Honey, are you hurt?”

“No, mom, don’t worry, we didn’t get in contact with the animal, only Twitch got a quick sight of it.”

With a smooth ping, Dorothy connected to Twitch, “Do you have video proof?”

“Working on it, mom! Sending it in a few seconds,” The drone-bot cheerfully responded, “There’s not much to see though, it was very fast,”

“Thank you, honey, we’ll see what we can do- WAIT! …Is that Hashtag’s engine rumbling next to you, Thrash?!” Hashtag came to a screeching halt in a panic on the dirt track, sending her passengers flying forward on her reversed seats… “…you better tell me that wasn’t your siblings tumbling down her cabin.”

“How does she do that?” The struggling whisper of JB came from under Nightshade’s frame as he caught them. That was a question they never got an answer to.

And she heard that too and connected to all her Terran kids, “JB! Hashtag! What are you doing there, you were supposed to be home with Nightshade! Did you leave them alone?! OH, what am I saying! I KNOW they are there with you!”

Nightshade recomposed themselves and cleared their throat, “Guilty, mom…”

Dorothy’s sigh was long and deep in their audial, “You three. Home. Now.” She didn’t add anything else because she already knew it was a lost battle with that sweet, stubborn, workaholic owl-bot of hers, “Thrash, Twitch, join the guards for the repairing team, collect tranquilizers if you don’t have them already and keep following the schedule of the day. Be all safe, we’ll talk later.” And she closed the call.

The five Terrans formed a circle, watching one another’s guilty face, all feeling like a scolded child caught with both their hands in the jam jar. They all shared a snort before departing on their paths.

Little did they know, two more big creatures were observing them from very far away, up high, deep into the forest.

The moment they returned home, Nightshade was immediately working on their computer, quickly analyzing a good amount of data they and Hashtag had collected. She too was working along and together they created a map of the States covered in spots, each representing an anomaly she found about on the internet or from friends she had all over the Country.

Next to them, one of the park cameras was laying on the table, connected to Nightshade’s computer.

Jawbreaker –in his bot form- was in the corner nearby, preparing a nutritious meal for all. He seemed more at ease, being in their bunker surely had a calming effect, feeling at home was always a welcome sensation, but he had always an eye for the screens on the wall showing the security cameras’ feed. Outside the storm was approaching fast, loud rumbling from above and time to time a flash of light, rain had started to pour on the other side of the mountains.

He walked up to his siblings with a full tray and observed curious, but Nightshade was way too fast for him to fully grasp his work full of formulas and walls of text. Pictures and photos were barely kept on the screens for a second. “Are you already done with the archive Optimus asked?”

“Finished it before dawn and already sent it on its way!” Nightshade proudly said, their eyes never leaving the screen. Hearing no response, they turned to him with big inquisitive eyes.

JB and Hashtag were both giving them a look…

“Show off,” JB flatly said and shoved a small bite into their mouth to wipe that gentle yet a bit smug smile they had.

Nightshade laughed as they chewed, “Can’t help it when I’m good at my job,”

“You should be reeeestiiiiing,” Hashtag chimed in, mockingly.

“I am resting!” They protested, “Working from home is quite comfortable! Especially after I was given full access,”

JB suddenly gasped at the beep of the camera lying on the table and felt a strong shiver into his circuits, triggering him into transforming in alarm. All around them everything that wasn’t connected to Nightshade’s emergency batteries started flickering, lights and all the secondary screens until the three Terrans were left in the dark with only the main computer and the main camera screens on the wall on.

“Uh. Blackout.” Nightshade calmly stated and Hashtag started her way on the internet to see if the whole town was in the same condition.

“Guys,” JB whispered catching their attention, he was in defense mode looking up at the ceiling as if feeling something walking by. The owl-bot was fast on the keyboard, checking all the feed of their family property: the house, the barn/bunker, the ranch, the ranch house… nothing was out of place, even all the animals seemed at ease despite the wind, there was no barking, no meowing, no mooing. The only thing that was noticeable was a slight interference in the feed.

“JB, I see nothing outside,”

“Tell me the door is locked.”

“Yes, of course, 10 minutes as always in a blackout.”

Hashtag creeped next to their feathery audials, “You sure it’s not 10 hours, right?” Oh, that little accident from years ago… their siblings never let go of it and they still teased them time to time. She got bapped on the head by that same audial and she giggled, leaning back, to then quickly reaching out for JB, hoping to pull him closer. She pulled him in her arms and collected him in her lap, holding him to calm him down. “You think it’s the same thing from the tower?”

“I don’t know… but the feeling is the same… I feel watched.”

Nightshade tried all kind of vision functions, from infrared to ultraviolet to fake colors, but saw nothing different on the screen.

They all jumped when the camera’s glass fractured in a loud pop out of nowhere.

There Nightshade’s computer started automatically analyzing a strong burst of energy, so strong and yet lasting for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Minutes flew by in pure silence until the final result blinked at the end of the wall of text, highly confusing the professor.

“What on Earth is going on…?” JB pressed himself tighter into his sister’s arms, who as well was starting to feel uneasy.

Nightshade was scrolling up and down, studying the analyses, but there was only a singular conclusion they could came up with, “This can’t be, this is interdimensional portal energy level,” They started typing fast on the report, coming up to a theory, “Tarantulas had told me about this phenomenon, but he had always said here on Earth would be extremely rare due to the very nature of the planet itself and its position in the universe. I believe this latest reads we collected are from this one portal that is trying to open up in our area.”

“You think the blackout is also due to it?” Hashtag asked.

“…Hard to tell, could be just the storm.”

“And what about the weird feeling I have?” JB asked.

“I’m not sure, but could either be an actual unidentified animal or an EM exposure from this portal, after all you’re more susceptible to energy changes,”

That didn’t calm JB down at all, not even a bit, “But I saw something, Twitch too! She said she had video proof,”

“None of us saw the video…? Maybe she thought she did, she got the exposure too.”

“I’ll call her,” Hashtag intervened and tried to contact their sister, but in vain, no signal went out. She tried calling their mom, same result.

“Wait,” Nightshade tried calling out for them too, then tried to contact Tarantulas, but nothing happened. They tried to call JB and Hashtag and there they realized the whole communication system had been muted.

“Well, also the internet is down now…” Hashtag begrudgingly stated. “Great…”

As if summoned, the power lazily returned in the whole property, internet reset and restarted and communications were open once again.

“Eh, that didn’t last long.” She chuckled, quickly sending the request for the video to Twitch.

JB seemed more at ease too as he looked up at the ceiling, “Whatever it was, I don’t feel it anymore…” He still didn’t move away from his sister’s grasp.

“I need to talk to Tarantulas,” Nightshade was already on their feet and grabbing their shoulder-bag, getting looks from their siblings.

“Then call him,” Hashtag grumbled, but the owl-bot was already walking fast towards the elevator. “Where do you think you’re going?!”

“I’m sure Tarantulas and Shockwave have already seen these peaks of energy! They can help us understand the phenomenon!”

Hashtag unceremoniously sent JB tumbling down the carpet as she abruptly got up and started running after them, “Don’t you dare touch that button! Nightshade!”

Within a good roll, JB straightened up as the other two argued in front of the elevator, but there was no winning, if Nightshade had decided to go, they would go even if the apocalypse was happening outside… at last she agreed to transport them to Sp.Ark. HQ safely. JB sighed big time and took a huge bite of the food before joining them. And to think he had just taken it out of the oven…

Indeed outside rain was pouring heavily and the higher one went, the stronger the winds. Things that were absolutely no issue for an expert flier as Megatron. He was on a small mission he had personally taken responsibility of, his goal was the high located Seekers Nest, Starscream’s empire. Although he had requested permission to land, Starscream surely liked making him stay on hold. He hovered out of the way of any trajectory of the jets busying the sky around the peak and simply patiently waited.

Megatron had time to kill anyway, he had sent a message to Optimus that he unfortunately wouldn’t be able to join him for the meeting of the afternoon. As much as he disliked disappointing Optimus, he highly preferred to hold still under the heavy rain to Starscream’s personal amusement than to be in another meeting with the Representatives.

Although he wasn’t there to have an excuse, he genuinely had a reason to want to meet the Seeker leader. Megatron had spent all morning with Shockwave, reading reports and studying more thoroughly what Enheterium truly was, only ending with agreeing again with the scientist that the Quantum Leaper had to abandon the tanks to be granted to land. Optimus had been informed of everything, if he shared any information with the Representatives was unknown for the moment, but Megatron highly doubted he did it yet. As they were talking about the issue, Shockwave had received a true reply from Ratchet’s ship and started immediately downloading the contents. The senator had seen something had changed in the way the files were encrypted, clearer, easier to download and his immediate thought was that quantum travelling had been turned off. The message contained different files, the smallest and first to be available was Skywarp’s message for his brother. Seeing that the rest was going to take a long while before they could read anything, Megatron decided to simply take a small chip and have Skywarp’s message in it to physically bring it to Starscream. Shockwave had suggested they could easily send it digitally, but Megatron had disagreed.

Megatron saw many of the youngest Terrans return to the Nest due to the weather, being in small groups escorted by either a cybertronian or an older Terran. Some showed quite the attitude to fly into a storm, some others struggled to keep up fighting against the strong wind. One in particular caught his attention, his group of four descended from the dark clouds above and the young Terran being in the last position wobbled a bit too much. The group descended fast and aligned with the Nest’s runway that led into the mouth of the mountain, though Megatron didn’t like how unstable he was. Despite his bulk, he could be agile and fast in the air and he quickly aligned in the trajectory, tilting fast at the kid’s side, protecting him from the wind.

“Up the nozzle, little flyer! Stabilizers straight! And keep those flaps down!” He ordered him in a loud tone.

It all lasted only a couple of seconds, the leader realized what was happening a bit too late, but the Terran listened to the cybertronian and he landed safely into the cave as one after the others of his group rolled in. The last thing Megatron saw before moving away from the entrance was the little flyer transforming exhausted at the end of the cave, letting himself fall on his aft in a laugh and waving at him. The leader Terran quickly got to check on his younger student.

“How long are you still going to keep him outside?” Skybreacher groaned at her brother, who stubbornly ignored her and Nova.

“He’ll get MAD!” Nova slammed her hand on his desk, only getting an annoyed look from him as he raised his optics from his screen, he was checking-in who just returned to the Nest on his list. “The last thing we want is him furious! You know how he gets!”

Starscream tilted his nose up in annoyance and indifference, “He can’t do anything, let him rust under the rain,”

“He must be here for a reason!” Skybreacher insisted and at that Starscream grimaced.

“He has NO business here in the Nest! He’s NOT welcome and never will be!”

“Did you ask him why he’s here?!” Nova pointed a finger at him.

At that point Starscream’s vent huffed hot in anger, “No and I don’t want to hear it! If it was anything important I have something called private line! I won’t grant him access now or never and THAT is the end of the argument!” He returned to his screen as his sisters groaned, but not in defeat yet. They huffed and shared a look, each of them crossing their arms, wings up in power stance.

“Such peacemaker you are!” Nova started.

“Always been all talk and no action!”

“Hashtag would be incredibly disappointed,”

Starscream’s glare could pierce through the hardest metal, “Do not play that game with me,” He hissed.

Nova threw her arms in the air before placing her hands on her hips, “Well, think again then! She’d be the first to tell you to let him in and you, the good pup that you are, only listen to her since she’s been way more patient with you then all of us combined! You loathe disappointing that little Terran, you want to admit it or not! And yet, you often still act like a goddamn brat way too proud of his own aft being the mighty leader than to remember you took an oath in front of Prime! And still, do we have to remind you that it was you who went to Sp.Ark. to ask for help to send the message, did you not?!”

“I went there wanting to meet Optimus! I never planned to ask Megatron of all mechs!” He stood up, his wings even higher than theirs.

“Did you not think that maybe it’s something related to it and he wants to talk about it?!” Skybreacher continued, “Don’t force us to call Hashtag!”

“DO IT! See if I care!” He whined, grumbling back to his seat, but seeing Nova slowly moving her finger to her audial made his circuits contort. He sent her a challenging look and she pressed the communication activator, optics into his really aiming to actually call her. His anger and grimace kept on for a long moment, but it slowly became only a mask over a very annoyed face and slid off. He groaned and contacted Megatron. “What you want?”

In a very calm tone, the other cybertronian responded. “I have something important to deliver.”

Starscream took a long in-vent. “Make it quick.” He finally allowed him to land, giving the only instruction to wait until the next group of flyers.

Megatron waited for the standard time to pass after the little flock entered the mouth of the mountain and got himself in position for the runway, touching the ground and taxiing into the cave, honestly happy to be out of the rain. He transformed, only taking a few steps when he noticed the big dryer fans on the ceilings had been switched off. Even the present flyers looked confused.

“You really want him to drip all over your office?” Nova teased angrily at Starscream.

“…Frag off, both of you.” He hissed as he reactivated the fans, but at the max temperature and speed.

Hot air blasted through, hitting Megatron like a punch of volcano heat. At least he was dry… He slowly blinked, sighing, and walked down the hallway still keeping his dignity up.

Despite the time they’ve been on Earth, Megatron had never visited the inside of the Seeker Nest, only witnessed when it was being built years before. He didn’t know the map of the place, but he surely knew Starscream and he could bet his cannon that he’d find him at the very center of the floor, in the biggest available room, sitting on a most obnoxiously royally decorated seat.

He was so right about it. He saw the seeker staring at him from the room down the hallway, in an office with the door constantly open. That almost made Megatron chuckle.

He stopped right in front of the door, noticing his frame was slightly bigger than it, and waited to be accepted in the room.

It was odd for Starscream to see the bigger mech there in his building, right outside his office looking utterly calm and again lacking any negative emotion in his optics as they looked at each other. He gave him a nod and Megatron entered, ducking to do so. “What is it so important that you had to bring it yourself?”

Megatron extended his arm and a small card got extracted by his compartment, “I just received Skywarp’s reply.” He gently placed on the desk, pushing it towards him.

Starscream looked at it in shock for a second, then glared up at Megatron. “You told me it would take many days, maybe weeks, that you weren’t able to send audios yet.”

“Shockwave found a way.” He cut short, dryly. “You should know him and how he operates. We’re also been experiences time lapse glitching due to the ship quantum travelling.”

“Then why didn’t you just send it through the channel?” He hissed.

“I simply believed it would have been the right thing to do, seeing how delicate the subject is to you and your sisters. I wanted to be sure you received it and you only.” Starscream’s attitude quickly changed and he carefully collected the card in his hands. He was about to say something, but Megatron continued. “On the matter of delicate subject, there’s another topic I presume you should all know about. There’s a second list of passengers that has not yet publicized, only Shockwave, Optimus and I are aware of it. As expected, I’m sure you’re aware of only seeing Skywarp’s name on the first list. You’ll see Thundercracker’s name on this second list,” All three seekers’ optics shone with hope hearing that name, “Although the nature of it is being titled quantum passenger. I don’t know the contents of Skywarp’s message. I don’t know if he’ll mention your brother. Only be aware that the Quantum Leaper had come across different realities, different timelines and gained new passengers from these events. If Skywarp ever mentions something about your brother, I hope this list clears things up,”

The seekers were all taken aback by what they just heard, none of them really knowing how to react.

“Another thing,” Starscream locked optics with him again, “Skywarp’s message wasn’t encrypted nor protected in any way. When I copied the file, I locked the one we just downloaded to protect it from Shockwave’s curiosity. It should be safe for a long while.” He smiled satisfied. “That’s all.”

The seeker leader’s blue optics flickered and he blinked a couple of times to keep his chin up. He nodded, but still had his pride bite him one last time. “You may leave.” He commanded, not looking at Megatron. Even his sisters seemed a bit surprised if not disappointed of his tone.

Megatron nodded back and turned, heading out. “You’re welcome.” He said as he ducked, walking out of the room. He well knew Starscream was more than grateful, but he had already thanked him when he gave him the message, so he wasn’t expecting another word of gratitude from him. Little did he know, Starscream did actually say a very low “Thank you,” as he was out of audial reach.

The old mech was back in the air and it was then he remembered something he had postponed all morning. He had promised Dorothy to let her know any development with Optimus, so he simply sent her a text saying “He said yes.”

For the next ten minutes he was literally covered in heart emoticons, congratulations and even more wedding themed emoticons, ending with her demanding to be called when he was available. By the time she asked that, he had landed back in the HQs.

“You can’t be serious…” Tarantulas sighed aloud as he found himself face to face with Nightshade as the elevator door opened. “Again?”

Nightshade cleared their throat, embarrassed, “You know? You’re right, we should stop meeting like this,” They wiggled their finger for emphasis, frowning, but only achieved to make it more awkward.

“This is beyond ridiculous, kid,” He then noticed Hashtag and JB uncomfortably standing behind the owl-bot, “Oh, great, accomplices.” He looked at Nightshade, straight in the eyes, a long spider arm of his stretched to poke them hard in the chest, “I should call Sharpenclaw to put a cast on both of your legs too! And on your tail, since we’re at it!”

Nightshade’s feathery audials trembled in a panic, “Wait! Wait! This is important! I need you to show you something!”

“We granted full remote access! What else do you need, kid? Are you that allergic to staying at home and rest?! Whatever you discovered, you could have called the lab directly!”

“I know, I know! But at this point I’m already here, so listen to me!” They messily took out a tablet from their bag and quickly showed the results of their recent analyses, frantically explaining the anomalies in the area of the latest hours and theorizing that they were connected to the peak of energy they registered.

“Ok! Ok! Slow down…” He knew it was a lost battle anyway, the looks Nightshade’s siblings gave him confirmed it.

“I believe micro-portals are opening and closing at sub-cosmic level and they might be what’s causing these weird phenomena,”

“Shade, alright, I understood you.” He sighed long and hard, “Ever heard about Enheterium?” The young owl-bot shook their head and their optics widened eagerly. “If I give you a quick introduction on the topic, would you go home? You would have found the morning reports online by 3pm anyway…”

Tarantulas walked into the lab 19-84 with speed, followed along by the Terrans, grumbling to himself as he got to his station. The half a dozen other members of the team all looked at them with questioning looks, nervously waving at Nightshade, even Shockwave, from his highest station, seemed interested. The spider-bot showed on his holo-screen the still in progress final report of the day, it contained a lot of extra links to other files that would have been attached to, all on the theme of quantum space travelling.

Nightshade was simply entranced for a solid moment as Tarantulas was giving them a very short summary, announcing what the substance was, how it was used in long distances space travels and utterly dramatic effects it could bring if misused, when Hashtag tapped their good shoulder.

“Ehm… Night? Look at the screen,”

“Oh, I am looking! I sure am!”

She would have grabbed them by the head and twisted it, but she luckily remembered about the cast around their neck. So she just tilted them twisting their shoulder, “Not that screen. That screen,” And doing so, she forced them to look at the biggest screen in the room where a flat world map was shown, pulsing with red dots. A technician announced that “Two more have been located,” and two more dots appeared on the screen, one in Europe, one in Asia. Tags appeared on each showing more data, like duration of the portal, size, energy, if underground or surface located. What caught most the attention were the lines

DAMAGES: Minimal / Unnoticeable.

VISITORS: No.

Realizing the US map they and Hashtag had scribbled was exactly comparable with the one on the screen, Nightshade shared a look at first with their siblings, then with Tarantulas. They quickly showed him their map, “This is the phenomena map we drew… it matches the portals…”

“Why are you looking surprised? You’re a genius and my pupil. Your theory is correct.” Said the spider-bot, proudly.

“So… All those dots are really micro-portals?”

“Blinking in existence only for a fraction of time,” It was Shockwave to answer. “Appearing all over the planet and partly on its satellite,” Even the moon was shown on the screen, “Now even, although rarely, upon the nearest planets.” Venus and Mars appeared too showing barely a dozen dots each.

Nightshade wiggled a claw in thought, “They really are causing electronic anomalies, aren’t they?”

“One even happened in the training room not long ago, an odd scenario loaded instead of what Megatron had chosen.” Tarantulas added.

“I have the park’s cameras acting weird and this morning the main antennae had problems,” Nightshade continued, “Did they cause bigger issues?”

“Seattle Groundbridge failed to open for a few hours,” Shockwave replied, “A short time fix. The biggest so far.”

“What about the blackout we just had?”

“It’s connected. Logically.”

“So it wasn’t the storm?”

“No.”

JB shyly tapped their wing and pointed at the screen and Nightshade nodded, understanding. They turned again towards Shockwave. “What does Visitors mean?”

The intense yellow eye of the scientist didn’t blink as he continued as cold as ever. “Aftermath of the presence of interdimensional portals. Even on sub-cosmic level, there’s always a chance that something may pass through.
The ship has already crossed paths with other timelines and brought along a list of new passengers.”

Before Nightshade could ask why they weren’t updated on the topic, Tarantulas added, “We were allowed only this morning to share this latest news of the crew, you would have found it in the report.”

“Seventeen members are quantum passengers. Eight different timelines are confirmed to have been crossed. I suspect more.” Shockwave went on, “Logically.”

“All are cybertronians?”

“Yes. No other form of life has been reported.”

“And… all of this is caused by the quantum fuel? But… something must have happened to have such events!”

“I have requested the travel log of the ship. We’ve been downloading it for the last 6h.”

“We believe,” Tarantulas chimed in, “the ship must have had a sort of accident or might still have it in the real imminent future. Enheterium doesn’t really follow the logic of time.”

As the team of scientists talked, Megatron had approached the room unbeknownst to them, accompanied by Sharpenclaw who coincidentally met heading to his office. Megatron wanted to know about any update, Sharpenclaw tagged along, curious to see if there was news about the ship. The doctor was unaware of the latest news, so Megatron updated him on their way to the lab. Neither of them had even set a foot into the room, that Sharpenclaw’s audials twitched hearing Nightshade’s voice. He got quickly a confirmation of their presence in the lab and sent a glare to Megatron. The grey mech seemed surprised at the owl-bot being there and raised both his hands, innocently. “I didn’t know they were here. Wait, doctor…!”

Sharpenclaw listened to nobody as he walked up to the center of the room, his footsteps unbelievably muffled and soundless, as stealthy as a cat’s. Some mech noticed him aiming for the owl-bot and gasped trying to get their attention, but Nightshade was on an excited overthinking blabbering moment.

“and just imagine what kind of creatures we might get to know! Other sapiens! Unimaginable marvels in technology and biology! Aliens so different from all of us that almost go behind the rules of physics! Th-”

At first it was a very light pressure over his right shoulder, the side where they had the cast on, but their metallic feathers fluttered with fear as they felt claws closing in, just tingling their frame, one after the other. Just there and then, Nightshade straightened their back shivering, their eyes going wide and their audial tilting back.

“So I presume that what the doctor has prescribed is a simple suggestion, easy to discard as simple foolery, because everybody knows the frame of a mech can easily heal when put under strain.” Sharpenclaw said in a low, offended tone, quite close to Nightshade’s cheek as he leaned down.

“Good…day, d-doctor…” Nightshade could see him in the corner of their eye, they would have faced him, but they physically couldn’t turn.

“Don’t you think I’m not aware of your previous escapades, young mech, that is why you have been granted remote access to work because workaholics like you are often annoyingly impossible to deal with,” He walked in front of Nightshade, optics as hard as ice, “I bypassed my own rule to grant it for everybody’s mental sanity, including yours! It has been done to make sure you could get the so needed rest and yet, there you are, right in front of me,” He suddenly glared at Tarantulas, making him flinch, before looking back again at them, “I hope you understand that having you here while on sick leave and with remote access available is insulting!” His eye enhancer lowered so he could use it a moment, “Just looking at you I can easily see you barely made any progress in your healing! All because you’ve been moving too much!”

Nightshade’s fan were starting to whirr out of shame, they lowered their head as much as they were allowed to, “I… assure you I meant no disrespect to your practice, doctor…”

“You don’t have to apologize to me! You have to apologize to yourself! To your body, kid! I’m sure you’re more than welcome here, I bet all your coworkers want you back in full health so to work again by your side! Look at them and at your siblings, they all have a worried look on their faces for you because you’re not taking care of yourself as you should! And now I’m forced to postpone the removal of your cast by at least a week!”

After a quick look around, Nightshade really saw how worried their friends and coworkers were, Hashtag and JB even more. They did recall the many times they tried to stop them and how stubbornly they pressed on, not listening to any of their family members. Now their vents really whirred and they bowed as much as they could. “I just wanted to share important data,”

“I can make it two weeks!” The doctor sharply cut their possible train of thought, making them flinch.

“…I shall go home. I’m sorry, everyone, I shall return as soon as possible fully healed.” As they raised their head, they tried a smile and noticed all of the scientists and technicians loudly wished them to get better soon and to not worry too much about work, that they all will eagerly wait for their return. Nightshade looked touched by their reaction and bowed again at the doctor and his mentor.

“I’ll send you the updated prescriptions, some extra supplement won’t hurt you.”

Nightshade accepted it, collected their belongings helped by the spider-bot, who warmly rubbed their back, and was guided out by their siblings.

Tarantulas cheekily leaned closer to Sharpenclaw and whispered, “If that keeps them home for at least 24 hours, I shall kiss you on the mouth,”

With an utterly disgusted look on his face, the doctor turned to his old friend, glaring at their odd pincers covering half of faceplate, “With those things of yours? Primus, help me, all mighty…” The only response he got was an elegant chuckle.

Within a few moments, the whole team quieted down and returned to work, updating Megatron on the latest developments.

Once back at home, Nightshade simply recognized they acted like an excited child who worsened their situation for real. They sat on their berth, shame returning to recoloring their features. JB and Hashtag were quick to seat at their sides in a warm embrace. “I’m sorry for have been so pushy and… I guess annoyingly excited too. I messed up.”

“It’s alright, Night, as long as you didn’t get hur-”

“Oh, yeah, you fucked up big time,” Hashtag dryly said, but despite her tone, both JB and Night could read her face as she was being playful and neither of them took her seriously.

The owl-bot heartedly laughed, “Can’t disagree with you,” Their fingers drummed lazily on the cast and they sighed, “I could use a short nap at this point,”

“You haven’t in a long while!” JB huffed out, a bit angrily, “And ate awfully too! I suggest we get a nice, warm meal first and then off you go to rest,”

“With this weather, I can only agree. Let’s have a nice lunch,”

There were still the delicacies that the dino-bot had previously prepared, but now being cold JB simply finished them off by himself in big bites and started preparing a rich meal especially for Nightshade. The owl-bot was utterly quiet, not even wanting look at their computer and Hashtag muted her line, allowing only the family members to contact her if needed.

Eventually Nightshade did go to actually rest and fell into a deeper recharge than expected, waking up only after sleeping in through the whole afternoon and evening. The bunker was silent, only a soft buzzing came from the central couches where Hashtag had fallen asleep while listening to music.

On the coffee table nearby stood a heating container with their dinner and a note,

Finally you’re getting some rest! Don’t forget to have a good bite too in this cold day

Love – mom and dad <3

Nightshade took gladly a couple of bites as they checked for emails. Sharpenclaw had sent the new orders and prescriptions that very early afternoon and also updated the Academy about his conditions.

Due to complications, Professor Malto is forced to remain on sick leave for an additional week.

That, in short. Nightshade noticed it had been sent also to Optimus, Dorothy, Alex and Atlan in copy. Nightshade had furthermore received an email from Jane, the principal, always in copy, where she sent the request to Atlan to cover their classes a little longer. Atlan had accepted in the reply. Speaking of Atlan, there were a couple of private messages from him saying that he was sorry to hear they needed a longer convalescence and he dearly wished them to get well soon. An automatic response from Nightshade had been activated before they went to rest, that they would reply as soon as possible, but seeing the time, Nightshade didn’t want to bother him.

All that made them notice that JB was missing, but they knew he had to leave in the late afternoon for having over a guess for the next day’s show, they had to work behind the scenes for the last details and the dino-bot must have simply stayed at his place.

Thrash wasn’t there either, but he had sent a message he’d be late. A little grin grew on Nightshade’s face, they knew he was probably still out with Atlan. They just hoped they were having fun.

The siblings chat was flooding with messages from everyone, especially from Mo and Robby who had worriedly asked if they were alright, their siblings explaining the events of the day. Mo had sent a lot of hearts and hugs emojis, Robby sent a lot of motivational funny videos usually millennials use with their parents as a joke, still wishing them the best rest. He also called them a dumbass for not listening to the doctor…

Nightshade took a deep in-vent as a clear reset of mind and gingerly went to check the cameras, wondering about the world outside. For once it wasn’t raining anymore, but far thunder was still audible and it was incredibly dark outside.

Although… camera 3 –the one showing right outside the barn of the bunker- was slightly flickering and something was not in place, like a darker spot against the forest background. The owl-bot promptly turned the night vision on. What they saw made them suddenly shiver. All his twelve sensor poles were set into the ground in perfect order, three by four, with a note attached on the front center one gingerly moving under the gentle wind. The first instinct they got was to rewind the footage to see who left them there, hoping to spot maybe a ranger or Bee and Breakdown, but the program didn’t cooperate, every time they tried to rewind the camera froze and glitched, even all the others that showed the area from another angle. They tried brute forcing it, but the footage didn’t budge.

Purely forgetting Hashtag was recharging in the room, Nightshade rushed to the elevator wanting to investigate the mystery themselves, hoping with all their might to not be any sort of sick prank. Once they were on the ground level, they could immediately spot the sensors and the note teasing. The owl-bot’s UI rapidly analyzed the surroundings, wanting to see footprints, hidden wires, anything, but the path was clear and they approached the note, still being alert.

Those were their sensors, alright, the ones they left at the tower that very morning. Each of them was turned off and in mint conditions. Nightshade grabbed the paper, noticing how it was gingerly stuck into a little clipper that held the sensor’s top cap closed, and they started reading, finding a handwritten message in an elegant cursive, a style of handwriting they could say was hard to see those days…

We thought you’d want these back.

My uncles and I deeply apologize for the discomfort we have been recently causing, we absolutely mean no harm to you, your family or anybody at all.

We’re explorers, but for the moment our bodies aren’t stable and we need time to adjust, so to avoid other possible blackouts or any device malfunctions we’ll isolate ourselves for the time being.

This planet is very familiar to us, but not this reality and we’re eager to study.

I so hope to formally meet in the future.

                                                                              -2D.

For a long silent moment, Nightshade gawked at the paper with big, wide eyes, their vents whirring in anticipation of excitement. The next thing they knew was that they almost tripped on their own feet while turning around and rushed back into the bunker, enthusiastically calling for their sister, the sensors completely, unfortunately forgotten outside…

Despite not having been able to witness the new visitors, Nightshade wasn’t the only one to have seen something new. Somebody else who caught glimpses of these new encounters, even before a certain drone-bot -affectionately called Little Bird- had caught a blurry video of a white creature. Despite being corrupted, a few interesting frames have been saved and enhanced, only corroborating a theory.

The lab was silent, the main lights were off. Only the main screens showed satellite pictures, coloring the room of the rich green of the forest.

And standing abstractedly blurry in a high definition environment were three figures, vaguely resembling a quadruped creature.
One white.
One black.
One brown. 

A big yellow eye stared motionless at the screens as codes scrolled up the wall, looking for what portal on their list these visitors had come from.

As actually expected, there was not a single result, the only logical conclusion was that they came from an unregistered portal that opened before their discovery.

That changed nothing in the scientist’s mind, the visceral, logical choice to capture and study the creature had already been taken.

Chapter Text

The need to be listened   

It was still heavily raining when Thrash arrived at the Academy, just a few minutes before 3pm. The front courtyard was quite busy with Terrans chatting in small groups, placidly standing under the rain without any shield or umbrella unless humans stood near them. Unlike humans, Terrans generally didn’t mind rain and the ones with a water-friendly-mode just thrived in it. Thrash was pretty neutral to it, he was just glad he got time to clean himself at the Ranger Station, he swore he could feel mud stuck in places he didn’t know he had. And he got to wax himself, which gave him a nice shimmering look especially with droplets running down his frame. He always liked seeing water sliding off himself. 

By the time classes ended, a wave of individuals flooded the courtyard making it hard for Thrash to stand out. As a solution to be easily seen by Atlan in the crowd, he grabbed his shield and creatively transformed it into an umbrella.

In no time, the two Terrans spotted each other.

They moved to the side and Thrash quickly offered his cover to him, like a true gentlemech. “Quite the weather today, uh?”

“I’m glad I got my water-proof bag or my work would short-circuit. The blackout we had earlier gave me a spark-attack already.” Atlan huffed to immediately notice the wax work on Thrash. “Elegant, aren’t we?”

The other cleared his throat, “Well… couldn’t make a good impression covered in mud after work, could I?”

“Trust me, you don’t need any of that to make a good impression,” He smirked pleased when he heard a familiar hum, “So, what are you showing me today?”

“Uh, hm, it depends.” He tried to keep his cool shushing the vents down, “I wanted to take you on the panoramic road and then up the mountains to the Little Fort Ruins, but if you want to stay dry we can go downtown, there’s the old Arcade that’s a lot of fun, they also have the best quint-dogs in town.”

“Wait, wait! You have castle ruins here?”

Thrash fumbled to find words a bit, “Ehhh, it’s mostly what’s left of an old mansion. Some rich dude was obsessed with Medieval castles and built it at the top of the mountain. Now only a tower is barely standing and a surviving room got turned into a big restaurant with a shop. The inner courtyard is a beautiful garden with creepy statues. It’s still worth checking out, it has a lot of ghost stories, ah.” By simply seeing Atlan’s wide optics, he quickly caught he was interested, “Arcade tomorrow?” He offered, quite intrigued as well. “And if you’d like I’d offer to take the best path to reach it,”

“Which would be?”

“Ever rode deep inside a forest? The thrill of an off-road ride, dodging dangerous roots and branches, getting your wheels wet in river streams? You know any of that?” He grinned, throwing a challenge.

“Ohi, I’m from Cooma, mate!” Atlan’s thumb proudly bumped against his own chest, “I was born surrounded by forests! While you here in the Americas ran from bear cubs, down back at home I had spiders the size of your wheels and snakes that would climbs up your rear pipes and kill you by clogging up your vents! I grew up well knowing where to roll my tires and I can easily stand any kind of terrain!”

 “All I see now is all talk, no action, man,” Thrash didn’t flinch, but his smile never disappeared, “Show me instead of telling,”

Atlan tsk’d, neither his smile faded away, “I like your style, Vents,”

“And I like yours.” He responded boldly. Indeed, there was a little feisty note in Atlan’s voice that he didn’t show when he was working nor when talking to Nightshade, it almost made Thrash feel privileged. “Keep up if you can!” With a smooth jump in the air, he transformed and after a cheeky donut in front of the Aussie, he darted out of the Academy property with Atlan right on his tail. 

The direction they took was not towards the park, but took a way larger curve that slowly climbed up the mountains, further out the city’s borders. It was a short drive to the Ruins, about 45 minutes from the Academy, but still very worth it because of the marvelous view. So far the bike-bots had simple random chats about the day’s events, Thrash shared about the little episode he had with his siblings at the antennae tower, when he sharply said to stop. Right on the curve of the road, a small area had been built as viewing point, specifically made in a clear spot, but still well covered under tall pines. A wide, transparent canopy covered the benches, the tables, the bins and the S.O.S. phone cabin. It was incredibly clean and well maintained. So far their drive was a constant show of gorgeous big trees and a wide view of the valley below, but from up there they could really see the whole area in all its majestic presence. A map over a rigid structure stood in the center of the area, among the tables. 

After transforming, Thrash showed him the far corner of the canopy where fans for bots had been installed. They were two simple towers that when pressed the button emitted strong hot puffs of air. They both seemed happy to be dry again. It was still heavily raining with big flashes of light coming from the black clouds above, but it didn’t ruin the view of the valley and the mountains at all, it almost made it ethereal, with the only sound around them being the constant ffsshhhh and the drumming of the droplets over the canopy. Atlan didn’t lose time and took a good amount of pictures to send his family.

“You know, haven’t seen a thunderstorm like this in a long while, not even the ones we have down in Texas are this heavy.”

Thrash raised his arm to point at a quite far tower at the top of a tall mountain, but half hidden by another rocky top. “See that? I was there this morning.”

Atlan frowned, “Did you find the animal in the end?”

The other bot shook his head, “It just went up north and we lost it. Still no clue what it was.”

“Odd that a white animal got to hide this well in the forest,”

“The other rangers are still probably looking for it, they called in the drone squad. Too bad we can’t even use the camera system, the whole thing fried up.”

“You mean there are no cameras in the whole park?”

“Not one working properly. We called Nightshade and Hashtag in to see if it could be fixed.”

Atlan looked thoroughly at the area and tried to get oriented. From up there they couldn’t see the park entrance like he did the day before from the platform Twitch brought him to, so he asked Thrash directly instead of looking at the map.

Thrash pointed at the very far right following the line of the road. Earlier they came across a bifurcation. “We took the left path, if you went down to the right you’d return to the other panoramic road where you stopped with Twitch. That platform is right behind the bottom of the mountain over there, the valley goes around like a tight C. The park is just behind the corner.”

Atlan nodded, understanding, then looked up at the top they were heading to, but saw no mansion.

“The main road goes up as a spiral here, we just need to cross a small bridge and from there we either choose the easy boring road or the much more fun adventurous motocross climb up to the Ruins.”

“Eh, with this weather, it sounds more challenging to climb,”

“Chickening out?”

“Hell, no, mate! This is a child’s play!”

“That is what I like to hear,” He relaxed leaning his hip to the thick wooden rail to enjoy the view of the valley. Atlan leaned his elbows on it in a silent agreement to stay for a couple of minutes longer.

“You know, when I was offered to work here in Witwicky I wasn’t expecting such a beautiful area. I thought it was more a military zone due to Sp.Ark. HQs being here. Instead I found a very lively community with everything any bot and human could ever need, so many services! And people here are incredibly welcoming and friendly. I have seen only a fraction, but it sure gave me an amazing impression,”

Thrash smiled as a bit of pride touched his spark, after all he was part of the group that made all of that possible, giving Terrans a place to be among humans and cybertronians. “Eh, what about the food?”

“Sorry, mate, but nothing beats a steak from Down Under,” He grinned.

“Can’t wait to make you try the restaurant at the mansion and make you change your mind then!” He suddenly leaned in bringing his hand next to his mouth as amplifier for his whisper, “And since I know the crew there, we might get a huge discount.” He straighten again, chuckling, crossing his arms against his chest “And a guided tour of the place too if you like,”

“Ha, you’re quite the character.” After a moment of thoughtful silence, Atlan looked back at him frowning. “You sure give me the impression of a guy who knows everybody in town,” he chuckled, half joking.

Thrash looked at him with big surprised optics, “I~… kinda do.” He cleared his throat, half serious.

“…Really?” He was honestly impressed.

“It was a very small town at first so… yeah… My family was under a spotlight from the very beginning and after the second wave of Terrans arrived, we were put under a brighter one. We met all the new Terrans being born in the vicinity of Witwicky and later on also the ones being brought here for guidance.”

“Well, you and your siblings being the first ones sure made you a celebrity. Even I from Australia knew about you.”

Thrash chuckled, “Eh, at first it was quite overwhelming, but things steamed down after a good while and we could finally focus on ourselves for once, each of us taking a path.”

“Hm… how long have you been a ranger?”

“Uhh… about two years.”

“Were you pressured by your mom?”

“Wha-? Ah, no, no. She had offered me to join her team a few years ago, but I had other things in mind. I just enrolled in the training course on my own, passed the exams and after one year I was promoted. She didn’t know I enrolled until she found my file in her system.” He laughed at the memory of her surprised face.

Atlan found the other bot’s laugh contagious and couldn’t help himself chuckling as well, “Did you work at the Ruins too?”

That caught Thrash a bit by surprise, “Eh, I did.”

“What about the arcade you want to take me to?” He frowned.

Vents started whirring out of embarrassment, “That too…”

Atlan noticed how also Thrash’s stand shifted more on defense. He recalled what Breakdown had told him and he knew he had touched a wire. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry…”

Thrash scoffed, as if to shake the embarrassment off, “No big deal, man! I’m not made of glass,” he offered a smile to him, but when their optics locked something seemed to tick in both bots’ sparks. Something in both of them shone in those colored mechanical eyes, their UI doing a sort of automatic analyses that was both reassuring and comforting, hard to tell if out of chemistry or emotion. For some reason they both felt like they could truly trust one another despite just having knowing each other for a short time. 

Neither Thrash nor Atlan had ever felt such sensation before that moment.

They awkwardly and quickly looked away, both unsure if the other actually felt what one felt, but they sitting down had been the most natural act. They simply looked at the rain in silence for a moment longer than either of them wanted, until Thrash was the first to talk.

“You ever done something to just… stop thinking about something else?”

“I’m… familiar with the concept, yes…” Atlan surprisingly answered. He was sitting slumped forward, elbows on knees, his fingers slightly fidgeting.

“I… lost count of the many jobs I tried in town. A month here, six there… yet nothing helped me.”

“Was it because you weren’t comfortable with the job or your coworkers? From what I saw you’re well remembered and talked about.”

Thrash shook his head, “I always found the best teams, worked with all kind of people and still managed to work well with everyone.”

“You do show passion for wanting to do a good job,” Atlan said, making the other heartily laugh. 

“I do like doing a good job wherever I go, that’s true,” He too leaned forward, “Although I never found what I truly want to do and nothing so far really satisfied me… nor gave me a good distraction.” Atlan was honestly dying to know what he needed a distraction from, but out of respect he bit his own tongue. He surely wasn’t expecting Thrash to continue a few seconds later. “So, you know my human siblings’ sleeves?”

“The cybersleeves? Yes.”

“What you know about those?”

“I know they are a relic from Quintus himself, his Shield and his Sword, and that they’d been the key to the Wave that activated all the Wells around the world.”  

Book stuff. Information anyone could find in history books. 

“What if I told you they were also the key to an empathy link among me and all my siblings?” Seeing him deeply frowning, he got he wasn’t understanding. “Ahh, how do I explain this now… It was uh, something we all shared. Thanks to the sleeves Robby and Mo could feel our emotions, they knew if we were happy, upset, whatever… and vice versa. They were there when I was born with Twitch and they immediately knew our names by simply looking at us and we knew theirs. We were born with this connection! We could find each other easily, understand them in a blink, help them quicker when in trouble, that was our way of communication! Something deeply wired in our sparks and hearts! And then…” He raised his hands to then let them drop on his thighs in exasperation. “When the link broke… we were all overwhelmed… stunned even. It was jarring. Alien. We had to learn on how to express ourselves again. We had to learn how to communicate more openly… it wasn’t anything truly new in some way, we had always done it with our parents and anybody else, but among us it wasn’t normal to say Ehy, listen I’m mad at you, we knew it by feeling it and acted upon! After a long time of being able to feel your siblings it wasn’t easy to adjust to the… silence.” He spat that last word with quite rage.

“What… caused this to break?” Atlan had been listening closely despite he wasn’t sure how to interpret it being unfamiliar with the topic.

“One said it was the Weapon… another said it was the Wave… Shockwave is sure it was a combination of both. Whatever the hell happened, the sleeves reset and despite everything we tried, we lost the link. My siblings… they all worked hard to regain a good balance and communication, they seemed to have adapted well… meanwhile I feel left behind. This,” he gestured circling his hand nearby his audial, “silence is deafening! Whatever I try, it’s always there ringing in my head. Whenever I realize my siblings can’t feel me, I feel vulnerable… lonely… And things got only worse when everyone moved out… Robby and Mo went to college, Twitch is always at the HQs, JB and Hashtag at the warehouse, Nightshade lives in the damn laboratory when they aren’t at the Academy. I mean…” His vents huffed hot in frustration, “I never wanted them to be constantly attached to my aft! But when we were all together in the bunker, I could open my optics and ask them for anything if I needed, I forced myself to make it work to try to adjust too, to feel better. With them out, I started to really feel alone.”

“Although… they always have your back, no?”

“Of course… just like I have theirs, we’re a family… they’ve always been patient and supportive, they gave their best to help me out, after all. But I fear they reached a point where don’t know what else to do to make me feel better. I don’t know either and… I don’t want to drag them down.”

“Have you talked to them about this… malaise of yours?”

Thrash nodded, “They know… Our parents too.” He puffed out his cheeks groaning, his leg started to jump up and down nervously, “I tried everything! I tried talking it out, I copied everything my siblings did to get out of it, I took jobs I didn’t even need to keep myself busy, I tried close combat to clear my mind, breakdancing, skating, DJ-ing, I haven’t stood still in years!” He sighed in a long, final hot puff from his vents, “I feel like I’m isolating myself from my family…I don’t want to hurt them…” 

Even though they weren’t looking at each other, Atlan could feel the guilt oozing out of Thrash and it made his wires contort. He waited a couple of moments to let him cool down after letting him talk in respectful silence and listening carefully in honest concern. Seeing him calming down, the last thing he wanted was him feeling like a fool for oversharing. He cautiously reached out and leaned his hand over his arm, squeezing his wrist.  That simple action really caught Thrash unguarded, but he didn’t pull away, instead he slowly raised his head and locked optics with Atlan. “You still have an amazing family,” He offered, if a bit shaky at first, “I saw that the other night, everyone was around you quite protectively if I may add,” he snorted, “Mo and JB seemed the ones closest to you, you were never left alone, I saw them checking on you often. I believe that despite everything, they don’t want you to feel left out, they all want you tightly in the family circle. To me, it seems nobody had given up on you and I’m sure they never will, they care for you way too much.” He patted his arm before pulling his hand back and watched him in-vent deeply, looking away to clearly not show possible tears that might threaten his reputation.

“I… know. I’m way too aware of that. That’s why I feel guilty, I don’t want them to constantly worry about me.”

“Well,” Atlan chimed in a tiny bit more cheerful tone, “I wouldn’t call it a family if they weren’t worrying. My mom always worries about my sisters and me even when we’re not doing anything, it’s pretty much her job.” He was glad to have stolen a small snort from Thrash. “Or it’s either her sixth sense telling her we’re up to something that miiight get us into trouble.” That made the other Terran huff as he chuckled, agreeing. 

A bright flash from a lightning sharply interrupted for a moment, quickly followed by a loud and deep rumbling. The two young Terrans simply observed and listened, staying silent until they could hear the rain again.

“If…” Atlan tried, but his words died in his vocal box for a few moments. “If I may… and if it could be any comfort for you… I do relate to that sensation of guilt,” he shifted uncomfortable on the bench, but he was pleased that Thrash was listening closely, “Whatever I do to give any help or support to my family… it never feels enough for repaying them of what they did and still do for me,” he scoffed, “I’ve been told many times that what I do is more than plenty and that I have no debt to pay at all, but after what happened I’m not so sure,” he turned towards Thrash, meeting his alert yet confused optics, “I bet you’re wondering why of all places my family came to the US, so way far from home,” 

Thrash blinked, nodding and considering, “Yeah, I won’t lie…” 

Atlan nodded as well, “Have you… ever experienced… discrimination?” 

Thrash softly gasped, almost inaudibly, from what he heard Australia was one of the better adapted Countries for Terrans to live in, “I had a couple of unpleasant meetings back in the day… from both humans and cybertronians, yes.”

“I guess all Terrans had faced it at the beginning, uh?”

“…Was it that bad in your home town?”

“Hmm not from the town folks per se. When I emerged from my Well I pretty much wandered around the forest for a bit before finding the town, there I saw many people and a few Terrans living together quite nicely. I didn’t see that much because I was, ah, was immediately taken aside by a man who later became my dad, but I saw there was a lot of harmony and the little town had a lot to offer me. What… What really tilted the balance was,” He visibly struggled to find the words, “it was my dad’s father. He… loathed me at first sight, even more than any other mech he met on the street. When I was officially adopted, things got really rough between him and my dad.” He shook his head as if in disgust, “They had never seen each other eye to eye, dad had tried all his life to be under his father’s good light, but he told me he never succeeded and things naturally crumbled down when he started going against him. 

“It was a constant fight, almost daily for three years, until Senior fired my dad from the family business and disowned him. Think that maybe from there we could have a new start over without the old fart breathing down our necks, but that didn’t stop him, he wanted me gone for good since he couldn’t get rid of all the other Terrans in town. Senior at the time owned the main businesses in town and let’s say half of the people worked for him. We started getting threats from friends who worked for him because they got fired for being associated with my dad. The closest friends still defended us even after being kicked out, but the situation became unbearable quickly.

“Mom always wanted to return to Scotland to her family, so we just,” he gestured with his hands, “sold mom’s ranch, packed everything, prepared all connections for schools and housing, and then, when we arrived at her sister’s mansion she just… didn’t want anything to do with me (nor my brother either). She knew I was part of the family, by the way, but I scared her too much, for some whatever reason. She didn’t even want me indoors, but my mom forced her to give me a room. We didn’t stay there too long, in a few months we were out of there. James and I both won a scholarship and we helped with some expenses even going against our parents’ will. We didn’t really need the money, but I insisted. There’s been some buzz then about moving to Texas due to a connection my dad had, a cousin having a ranch, and moving me and my siblings to other colleges wasn’t a problem, so once again, we packed everything up and reached our relative, who for once had nothing against me or James, now Jane.” His vents huffed heavily for a long moment as if he dropped finally some weight off himself. “I… feel awful for having caused so much trouble to my family…” He said in almost a whisper, “They went through so much hostility, so much hate, so many problems because of me… I tried to not be in their way, to not get attention, I always helped where I could, I worked so much to be…” With a sharp movement, he rose his head and looked at the mech sitting next to him, locking optics with him before snapping his own shut, unable to bear them, and jumping on his feet, “Oh for Primus’ sake, what the fuck am I doing?!” He brought both his hands to his face, exasperated, “You just poured your spark out about your own very personal issue and I just stole your thunder blabbering about my life as if it was your problem to carry and-” He sharply stopped as he felt hands firmly grabbing his wrists.

“Woah, woah… buddy… easy…” Thrash carefully guided his hands down and both took a deep in-vent to ease their engines. “It’s alright,” He gently pulled him to sit back on the bench.

“Thrash, I… god, I’m so sorry.”  

The other shook his head, “You have nothing to apologize for, everyone needs someone to just listen to you time to time,” He spoke softly feeling the need for comfort.

Atlan blinked before looking away fighting his shame and after a long moment of awkward silence, he sighed in a soft smile, “Thank you,” Thrash hinted a smile too thinking he was thanking him for having listened to him until he heard his next words, “for sharing your situation with me, I’m pleased you felt comfortable enough with me to do that. And thank you for giving me your audials, of course.”

Thrash let out a soft huffed snort, glad to hear his tone being genuinely a bit more cheerful, “Very same, dude. Feels nice to… actually let out something. Even if you have no solution for me, or I for you, it’s nice to feel listened to.” He leaned his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, still absorbed in watching the rain. Atlan copied him, nodding in agreement. “You said my family is amazing. Yours doesn’t sound any less, you know? Maybe… we both should give them some more credit… I… not gonna lie, I haven’t been the most open to them lately. I don’t… want them to see me as a burden despite I well know they never will. This feeling is quite awful.”

“It’s shit.” The other added, deadpan.

Thrash snorted. “Yeah, it’s shit.”

“Will you… consider talking to them again?”

Thrash blinked, looking deep in thought. He eventually nodded. “I can’t tell what good it’ll make… but I should keep them updated, maybe something new might come out and help.” He wondered with a positive note. “Will you with yours?”

That made Atlan tense up as he bit his own lips, “I never talked to dad about it. It was always my mom and sibs to reassure me. I’m not sure if mom knows how it actually bothers me, she always seemed playful when saying to not worry.” He nodded, “I’ll give them a call and try.”

Thrash nodded, “That’s good. That’s good,” Another bright flash colored the sky for a fraction of a second, followed quickly by a low rumble. He got on his feet, “You still up for seeing the ghostly mansion?”

“Eh, of course, mate,” 

“Ready to eat mud and pine needles? Some root too for good measure?” He grinned, challenging, and offered his hand to him to get up.

Atlan snorted as he grabbed it and got easily pulled on his feet with a nice amount of strength, “Just as much as you are, Vents,” 

Without letting go of his hand, Thrash gave him quite a good tug, “The cleanest pays for the next meal,”

Suddenly feeling a bit too close to his friend than expected, Atlan blinked surprised a couple of times, but quickly his expression mirrored Thrash’s, smug and with a bit of spunk, “You’re such a daredevil,”

“You saw nothing yet,”

They both tilted their chins up, accepting the challenge, yet neither of them was able to look away from the other. Thrash was the first to soften his smile, there was a soft hum tickling both of them, right in the spark, something really confirming they could really trust one another, a reciprocal feeling of understanding that if needed they could talk to each other. They accepted that mutual warmth in silence and with a slight nod, as if to say their thanks, to then transformed and eagerly drove towards the climbing path deep in the forest.

--- On the Quantum Leaper ---

Three hours after transmitting the last data package.

“So… They’re still downloading?”

“Mhm. And might take longer than I thought. Should have expected it, but not like this.” Echo sighed and leaned back in his booth, the maximum he could move since he was deeply wired into the communication system. 

Ratchet sighed standing at his side, but after all it wasn’t a big issue, the ship was finally back on course and the medbay was emptying, aside from one remaining patient who needed his jaw reconstructed and was kept under surveillance for the time being, not because seen to be an issue for the rest of the crew, but to keep him and Drift apart. Rodimus wasn’t accepting visits from anyone. Ratchet had a talk with Drift as he came out from recharge and simply asked him to stay in their room and relax, navigation would have been given to another mech until he got his mind clear. 

“By the speed of it, how long do you think it’ll take?”

“Minimum (6h).”

Ratchet groaned big time and puffed his cheeks out in annoyance. “Well, we have time to kill.” He looked at his own station in the middle of the room, where Ultra Magnus sat in his place. Ratchet was still in down time –ordered by First Aid- with him covering the position. If there was something Ratchet loathed was to have nothing to do, so he looked back at Echo as a thought came to him. “You said the two young ones want to be useful onboard,”

“Want me to summon them? They are,” as he talked he turned his head in the direction of the personal quarters as if able to see through walls, “still in their room.” Primus bless Echo’s ability to sense even the weakest of sparks from very far. 

“No, no, I shall.” He patted his shoulder before giving an announcement to the presents in the room, “I’ll be in my quarters. Anything happens, my frequency is always available.”

There was a choir of “Yes, captain!” as response and he walked out of the cockpit, heading to his main office.

“Drift?” He called over the private line as he walked down the hallway.

“Ratty?” A rather cheerful tone colored his conjunx’s voice.

Ratchet naturally smiled each time he heard it, “Let’s have a chit-chat with our favorite stowaways,” 

“I’m on my way,”

A few minutes later the couple met in their office and closed the door. Drift unexpectedly glued himself to Ratchet, wrapping his arms around him.

The medic blinked in surprise as he rubbed his back, feeling a magnetic pull from the center of it, “Ehy, ehy…” He scoffed amused, “You’re getting a bit overprotective lately,” 

Drift’s vents huffed in relief feeling the metallic warmth of his companion against his frame. “My code feels like all over the place, I have multiple protocols overrunning and I can’t help it,” He purred as he kissed his cheek, gently cupping the other to pull him closer.

Ratchet heavily relaxed under his touch and allowed himself to be spoiled for a couple of minutes in that warm, tight hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Much, much better now you’re here with me.”

The other sighed in relief and closed his optics, leaning on his shoulder. “Come on, I know you’re boiling to tell me, how are our auras?”

Drift chuckled heartily, “Healthy. Bright. Lively. Yours’ a bit grouchier looking.” 

“You’re telling me Crux won’t be a grouch like me? Now, that’s a shame,”

“I’m sure you’ll teach him plenty,”

“To be a grump? Nah, you are born with such quality.”

“AH!” Drift laughed pulling a bit away, “The best of qualities,”

“…You did not just say that,” The doctor said, trying to not laugh.

“I might have and I stand by it.” He smirked before sneaking a finger under Ratchet’s chin and closed the gap between them, gently placing a soft peck over his lips, purring as he felt Ratchet’s arms pulling him closer. Or as much as they were allowed since the bump pressed between them was a small yet mighty presence.  

It was there that Drift simply trapped his conjunx again his arms, pressing his cheek tightly against his, cuddling like a mad feline.

“Drift…” Ratchet well knew where this was going and tried to get his attention from under the violent showing of affection, “Drift!” The swordmech kept on cuddling, his vents purring aloud happily once he placed a protective hand over that warm bump, pride seeping out at each puff. “Drift! I need to sit down!”

At the angry command, the older mech quickly detached and grabbed his comfy chair at the speed of light, to finally push him at his desk. With a final chuckle, he hugged his neck from behind, whispering a soft apology.

In the end Ratchet could never stay angry at him… he grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips, he couldn’t blame a sire for being a sire.

Drift gingerly went to sit opposite of him, on the other side of the desk as the medic worked on the pc. The latest reports from Echo and the psychologist about Driller and Compass had been rolled in and despite the two being onboard for only a few days, they showed to be a bit more at ease around all the other mechs and their stress level had drastically dropped, but they both still showed to be cautious while moving around, very shy. “Driller has showed a particular interest in Echo’s medical studies,” Ratchet read, “showing fascination in how an individual like him could undertake a path in the medical field despite not having <the right hands>.” Ratchet raised a brow and Drift knew his gears were grinding something up, “Compass is an avid reader and shows a deep knowledge about metallurgy.” Both conjunxes shared an impressed look. “Well, that’s new.”  

“Maybe they could start with apprenticeship. A good talk will direct us to put them on the right path.” 

“Mhm. Do summon them.”

After a few minutes, someone knocked at their door and Driller and Compass were allowed in the office.

“You called us, sirs?” Compass stood a bit closer to the desk, proudly standing at attention. Driller shyly stood a step behind.

“Please, have a seat,” Ratchet politely offered, still sitting at his desk. Drift stood at his right, behind his shoulder.

The young lads awkwardly sat down, only Compass directly looked at them, maybe with a bit too much spunk in his optics, while Driller looked in front of him, avoiding optic contact, randomly noticing their files were on the holo-screen. 

“We heard you’d like to be useful on the ship,”

“Yes, sir, staying idle unnerves both me and my friend here,” 

Ratchet nodded understanding and turned to Driller, who really didn’t like the attention, “Do you mirror your friend’s status?”

Compass looked offended for a second to see the older bot asking a confirmation so bluntly after he just said so, but he didn’t say a word. Driller on the other hand, looked like he wanted to disappear, not able to look directly at Ratchet, but he nodded.

Drift crossed his arms and frowned, “Is there a reason why you aren’t looking at your captain in the optics, kid?” His tone wasn’t harsh, just merely curious and still gentle. He had read from Echo that the kid looked particularly shy in his and Ratchet’s presence, which was quite odd.

“He’s just very shy, sir…” Compass offered, unsolicited. 

“I want to hear it from him,” Drift pressed down.

“I’m…” Driller took a deep in-vent and tried his best to straighten his back. He gave his best to keep optic contact with both Ratchet and Drift as he talked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude…sirs.”

“Rude is far from what Echo had written about you, kid, I only see positive praise about your temperament and discipline. Actually about both of you, he was quite impressed by… Drift?” Feeling something tagging in their Bond, Ratchet turned towards his conjunx, noticing him standing rigid and… deeply staring.

There was a sort of strong ping over Drift’s UI the very moment Driller had looked at him. His vision was overwhelmed by fast messages of analyses of the kid sitting in front of him and the very final message blinking in the corner of his vision was:

PROTECT

“Drift?!” Ratchet called with more emphasis, grabbing his wrist. Only then his companion blinked a few times and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“I… I think my code is acting up. Sorry.” He patted his hand as reassurance. 

“It’s understandable…” Both conjunxes suddenly looked up at Driller, who seemed on the verge of panic for some reason. Even Compass was looking at him very confused. “I-I’ve seen it before in sires having their companion’s carrying on the last quarter…” 

It was Ratchet’s time to stare deeply at him, making the lad squeak. “How much you know about carrying?” 

The young one’s vents started whirring loudly and hot at that point and all he could do was to lower his head and talk clearly, “I witnessed my… senior follow a few cases and emergences.”

“Hm,” Ratchet squinted hard at him, leaning forward. “Why don’t you scooch closer, kid.”

Having no other option, Driller looked up at his friend hoping for any kind of suggestion, but Compass had none to offer, so he moved his chair closer. “Sir?” He looked up at Ratchet like a spooked pup.

The captain moved his arm forward and offered him his hand, “Shake it,”

Now Driller was gulping, “I don’t understand… You never shake the hand of a surgeon… Sir,”

“Unless when offered. I never liked how you fidget with your hands. You say they itch. I say First Aid found nothing wrong with them, only a protective coat I bet you applied yourself. Come on. Shake my hand.”

In that moment, Driller really stiffened and all his shyness seemed to disappear, “I don’t think that’s necessary, thank you for the offer,”

“Is this some kind of prank?!” Compass got on his feet, “You want your hand shaken so badly, I can do it and we can be done with this!” He reached out, but Ratchet was fast in closing his hand, tilting it just out of reach.

“I didn’t ask you. I asked him.” His tone suddenly hardened, his look could tame the worst patient from afar, “Sit down.” He ordered and all the bravery and arrogance of Compass seeped out. The lad obeyed and lowered his head, his vents huffing hot.

“We can go on with this game as long as you like, but you won’t get anything out of the situation.” Ratchet continued, talking to both of them. “We had patience enough to accept you both on the ship despite you clearly trying to make us all think your real names are the ones you gave us. Anyone onboard could see you’re under a fake ID and avoiding certain mechs for whatever reason. We know nothing about you and yet I still personally wrote to Earth that you’re part of the crew, deemed not dangerous.”

“…You don’t know that.” Compass angrily pouted, offended to be seen harmless.

“Don’t go throwing challenges like that in front of a swordmech,” He tilted his head towards Drift, “nor in front of Echo.” That made the young mech shiver.

“Now.” Ratchet continued, “We blindly trusted you and now you want to prove yourself onboard working under our surveillance. We need a guarantee now, don’t you think? I offer you a choice, I won’t force you tell me your story if you don’t want to –I wouldn’t in any case, first and foremost- nor ask you why you’re hiding, all I want to know is what you’re capable of, because surely neither of you is a miner despite you painted yourselves as such.”

The two young mechs suddenly realized that their disguise had never worked in the first place and both looked at each other full of shame.

“…If we don’t accept?” It was Driller to ask, fearful.

“You’ll be put on a shuttle and pivoted towards the closest cybertronian outpost. Consider we’re very far from home.” 

Both the young mechs vented-out in discomfort.

“We don’t want that… We seriously don’t want to hurt anybody or sabotage anything, we just want to live in peace, to find a nice place, to have a purpose.”

Ratchet seemed to think for a moment, “Is there anyone on this ship that might be an obstacle to you?”

“Ehy! You said you weren’t aski- OW!”

Everyone seemed surprised to see Driller punching his friend in the arm, shutting him up for good.

“Cut it out for once!” He angrily told him before returning his attention to the captain, bowing his head in apology, “No, sir, no mech is our enemy here. Although… many faces are familiar to us and we… we saw them being recently killed… We’re still adjusting…”

Ratchet looked up at Drift, receiving a warm squeeze on the shoulder. He nodded and sighed deeply, looking back at the two mechs. “My apologies for making such a discomfort resurface, I won’t ask anything unless you’re ready to talk.”

Much to his surprise, Driller shyly offered his hand to him. “Call me Cee.” 

Widening his optics in pleased appreciation, Ratchet also noticed the way the kid held his hand out, giving him the confirmation to his suspects. His hand was kept rigid with the thumb up. The medic leaned his own hand against his, palm to palm, letting the tip of their thumbs touch and their EM fields buzz in unison. The extremely specific tingling only medical bot could share made his whole hand prickle. “I knew you were a surgeon. Do you practice?”

Cee retracted his hand, ready to remove the coat, since its only purpose was to cover his hands from scanners. “I’m a 3^rd level trainee, but I operated already on big wounds around the sparkcase.”

“Ah, you’re more advanced than Echo then. First Aid will be happy to have you in his team.”

Cee beamed unbelievably happy about the news, finally showing some true colors of his personality. Thing that wasn’t the case for his companion at his side, who looked incredibly pissed, keeping his arms tightly crossed over his chest and looking at the wall. Cee leaned a hand over his shoulder, trying to make him turn.

“I’m not talking to you.” Compass hissed, moving his arm away from him with a sharp pull. He then got on his feet and looked straight at Drift, then at Ratchet. He looked mad at first, but within a few seconds his expression relaxed as he calmed down and offered his hand. “Quasar. Archivist. Metal expert. Engineer trainee.”

Out of pure habit, Drift shook his hand before Ratchet, so his companion could then lean his over the back of his hand as protection of non-medical mechs’ EMs. 

“Well, that opens you a lot of paths for you,” The swordmech chimed satisfied. 

“I’ll have Brainstorm and Nautica have a meeting with you, so you’ll be able to choose the better branch to work in.” Ratchet said in a very fatherly tone, stealing a small rare smile from the young mech. “You’ll start as soon you’ll get a call from your seniors, who I’ll contact immediately. Thank you dearly, both of you, I hope your stay will be more pleasant after this meeting. You are dismissed.”

Cee and Quasar bowed their head, thanking them, and they headed back to their room.

As Ratchet was on calls with the senior mechs previously mentioned, Drift was writing a very short report about the meeting to send to Echo and the psychologist to give them the latest update on their names, tasks and what team they’d join for their apprenticeship. 

Since he was at it while on call with First Aid, Ratchet asked about any new development with Rodimus. The mech had been stabilized and his jaw was as good as new, but he clearly didn’t want to talk to anybody and preferred staying isolated in observation room. Overhearing this, only made Drift feel a tighter grip of guilt around his spark.

Ratchet got on his feet –struggling a bit due to his weight- and approached his conjunx, getting a firm hold of his hand. Drift stood up as well, gently pressing his crest against Ratchet’s. 

“Regret is gnawing at my spark…” 

Bringing his hands to his lips, Ratchet kissed those newly patched up knuckles of his, “Give him some time. And yourself too. You’re both adult bots, you’ll figure it out.”

“Brave of you to call Rodimus that…”

“I know it’s a stretch, but I have no other word for it.” He puffed out his cheeks, “I’ll have a word with him soon.”

“Just… be patient. Please?”

“I know, I know. Either way, the damage has been done, dealt with and we heard the reasons and the thought process. Be assured, love, I’m not kicking him out.”

“Ah, thank you.” Drift kissed his crest while his hands automatically moved south, eager to caress the bump and make him relax. “Uh… someone is agitated.”

“Yeah, he’s been moving since I shook hands with Cee… out of nowhere. I presume he felt his EM?”

As response, Drift’s EM hummed and pulsed at its own very characteristic rhythm, a signature that Crux immediately recognized as his sire’s and slowly calmed down, giving Ratchet some relief. “He must have wondered Who the hell was that?! Who dared touching my carrier?!” He snorted, rubbing his companion’s belly’s sides with his thumbs.

Ratchet moved his arms over his shoulders as support, “I see where he got the exuberance,”

“I also hope he got my good charm,” Drift wiggled his brows, grinning.

The doctor made a face, “I only hope he didn’t get your charming pain-in-the-aft attitude,” He barely held a snort.

“Ehy, I thought it was your favorite thing of me,”

“I won’t answer that,”

Drift laughed and kissed his crest, “Want to lie down?” 

But Ratchet shook his head. “Want me to run some diagnostics?” He meant about his code acting up, “What did you see?”

“Hmm… it was after Cee and I locked optics… my UI ran an analysis on him and I had the command to protect him.”

Ratchet frowned deeply. “Are you sure your sire protocol isn’t affected by something more than the quantum travelling? Why would you have to protect him? Because he was the youngest in the room? Is it that confused?”

“Please, do give me a check-up, Ratty,” He pled in a sigh.

As expected, there was a slight imbalance of hormones and Drift’s code seemed to loop over some commands as if on overrun. The only thing Ratchet could do was to give him a relaxant and through a shared wired connection, he tried to rearrange the scanning commands, but kept finding a small glitch that kept looping over a variable that he couldn’t understand where it was from. As Ratchet worked, Drift could see everything in his UI, columns of codes running up his vision, yet he never moved his optics off his conjunx. He looked at him with such deep adoration, and the more he admired how deeply he focused in his tasks, the more he seemed simply entranced by his presence alone. 

“Drift,” Ratchet warmly called him to attention.

“Mhm?” His fingers had started travelling over the doctor’s wire, gently caressing the length in the middle and climbing up to the base.

“You’re being a distraction,”

“A welcomed one?”

He playfully slapped his hand off the wire, “Let me work,”

Drift pouted for half a second, but still smiled unable to stop himself. He couldn’t help it but to simply observe his companion as he worked, his fingers fast on the keyboard as he typed all the possible commands he could use, the dosage of supplements Drift should take and a list of other things as he examined his medical record while scanning through their wiring. Aside from the little imbalance, Drift was in great shape and his frame was adjusting well for the arrival of the sparkling.

Drift’s audials twitched as he got an idea and Ratchet didn’t even have to turn to face him to know he was up to something. He also knew already what he was going to try out. With a sigh, Ratchet let him, still scoffing entertained.

The swordmech concentrated through their connection, deep into Ratchet’s most inner coding, level under level under level... ironically almost as if he was looking into his very own soul, travelling as a speck of light in the darkness of his mind. He eventually met another small speck of light, bright and obviously familiar. He approached it without fear and for a few wonderful moments the two lights danced in the dark, spiraling one around the other with intimacy and warmth.

Drift had closed his optics and only then he opened his right one to peek at Ratchet, who sat next to him with a look on his face that was both warm and saying “You’re being a distraction again,” but the doctor never said those words out loud and never interrupted him. Their hands reached for one another and their dance continued.

The two lights slowly spiraled closer until they softly touched and Drift’s EM pulsed out of instinct with a rhythm native to him and only him, causing a natural response from Ratchet, whose EM pulsed as opposite, completing the waving harmony that sealed their connection.

There was a very faint and sudden tinkle, almost indistinguishable in the silence of their minds... and yet they both heard it, causing their dance to stop. They both looked at each other with a questioning look. Ratchet’s optics darted down to his own abdomen for half a second and he grinned, fascinated. Drift copied him, but his expression also showed a hint of fear. His hand gently moved to Ratchet’s belly.

The two lights moved around in circle in the dark, one next to the other and emitted together a strong pulse. They waited only for a short moment as a very feeble response came from very far, stunning them into place. The tiniest of lights finally emerged from the darkness and wobbly approached the couple...

Drift jolted up from his seat, dangerously tagging too hard on the wired connection, risking to cause a painful detachment. Luckily it didn’t happen thanks to Ratchet’s quick response as he got on his feet too, grabbing his arm to steady him. The doctor was laughing out loud, enthusiastic and very surprised. Drift’s light had disappeared from the scenario and Ratchet’s was immediately responding to the scared little light, whirling fast towards it to pacify it. The doctor’s EM was pulsing strong in the big hope to calm down both sire and sparkling.

“That’s!! That’s..!!!” Drift’s IU was completely haywire with a fast list of commands flashing in front of his vision and his companion felt the whole thing through the connection.

“Mhm,” The medic nodded slowly, his grip on him now more firm and yet incredibly calming. “That’s Crux,” He spoke softly, sending controlling commands to make him relax. Ratchet couldn’t truly understand why Drift was so agitated...

Although, within a few short moments, Drift did calm down and both returned to their seats, “He has never...”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Ratchet said, half laughing and holding his hands in his, “Come back and say hi to him properly,”

“...and apologize,” he chuckled, “I must have scared him...” He received a small peck between his optics and he quickly returned to shine as a bright little light, ready to dance along side his conjunx and his shy, tiny sparkling.

Within a shaky in-vent, Drift leaned against Ratchet’s shoulder, sneakily closing his arms protectively around him and letting his EM pulse into its own rhythmic song. The tiny light of Crux shyly moved away from Ratchet’s, moving towards his, singing along with his own weak pulsing, obviously trying to match the rhythm. Pride made Drift’s spark swell like he never felt before.

He slowly realized how much pressed against his partner he was only when he felt arms tightening around his shoulders and there Drift simply allowed himself in being engulfed in the marvelous warmth, listening to Ratchet’s vents humming and to their sparkling’s first singing.

“I’m doubling your supplements,” Ratchet said within a warm chuckle, “your sire protocol is on fire,” and Drift could only nod, covering his optics in the useless attempt to stop his happy tears from falling.

It’s been a few hours since Ratchet’s last check on Echo and the poor mech was still deeply wired to the communication system as the download was almost at the very end. He looked exhausted and Ratchet had to forbid him from wanting to activate the call with Optimus, he’d get a minimum (2h) of intense recharge, he liked it or not, Doctor’s and Captain’s order. Ratchet’s only request was to add a note for Optimus to read, to be ready to be called (4h) after the download. Echo tried to insist he could do it right after the recharge, but Ratchet forbid that too.

“Ratchet, sir,” Ultra Magnus approached Echo’s station, stopping in front of the captain and being at attention, “Request to continue the shift,” He added, a bit cheekily.

“You know you need time to recharge as well, right?” Ratchet said, giving him a glaring look.

“Allow me to stay until the end of Echo’s task.”

Ratchet turned to the sparkeater, “How long?”

“About (1,5h),” He replied tiredly.

“Ratchet, it’s ok,” Drift approached too. He had taken over navigation about an hour prior and so far there was nothing new to the horizon. “Take some more rest, Magnus doesn’t mind.”

With a deep glare and a huff, the medic grumbled, “Look at this mutiny. Alright, alright. I’ll be in my room, update me as soon as possible and that’s an order.” He turned on his heels and walked out of the cockpit while the others really tried to not smile. The only one showing concern was Drift, though. He well knew Ratchet wouldn’t  go to rest and where he’d go instead. Guilt was again gnawing at his spark for what he did to his friend.

“First Aid,” Ratchet was still walking down the corridor when called for the CMO on their private channel. Of course he wouldn’t sit still, he was not in the mood to rot on his own berth.

“At your service!” The other mech chimed in.

“Any news?”

“...No. He still doesn’t want to see anybody.”

Ratchet didn’t even skip a beat. “Tell him I’m coming.”

“Ratchet, wait-”

“I’m tired of this brat-like behaviour of his, I better find the door open, Aid.”

The other medic sighed heavily. “Alright, alright. You’re the boss.”

Despite the roughness on the call, when Ratchet arrived in the medbay, at Rodimus’ closed door, he knocked with a gentle hand, announcing himself. He exchanged a look with First Aid as they heard no response from inside the room.

“Rodimus, please.” Ratchet insisted, but still kept a calm tone.

There was a weak reply from the other side of the door and he was allowed in. Ratchet nodded at First Aid thanking him for the patience and stepped inside.

The room was small, having only the necessary for a bot under medical care, with dim lights to not bother the patients as they rested. In the very corner of the room, Rodimus sat on the berth, hugging his legs close to his chest, his left side to the wall.

The younger bot only raised his optics to greet him, lowering them immediately. “Did he really send you to apologize? That won’t wor- WOAH! EHY!”

Ratchet had walked up to him, not really caring about his sulking, and grabbed him by the chin forcing him to turn his head, sitting on the berth. “Nobody sent me here, kid.” He gave the thin patchwork on his jaw a very quick check, “You’ll live, barely a scratch you got.” As he released him, Rodimus pressed himself against the wall, looking dumbstruck.

“Scratch, my aft, doc!” He whined and pouted, rubbing his fixed cheek, but the more he had Ratchet’s optics on him, the more he realized how childish he was being and corrected himself. He sat properly next to him, his optics darting for a brief second to Ratchet’s abdomen, “...Shouldn’t you be resting?” He almost whispered with a genuine worried tone.

“I had plenty. I needed to see how you were doing. Both due to being the captain and your friend.”

Rodimus pouted again, looking away. “I’m alright. How... How’s Drift?”

“He’s mortified... He tried to come here to talk to you, but the medics sent him away due to your request.”

“Oh... yeah...” He suddenly fidgeted uncomfortably, drumming his fingers on the edge of the berth, “Ratchet, listen... what I said... I’m sure you listened to the recordings... I, uh, I’m sorry for what I said about you,”

“I took no offence,” Ratchet said quickly, yet truthfully, “The talk you had with Drift was messy, he was angry and he shouldn’t have stepped in. You both said things you regret and you two will sort things out when you’ll be ready.”

Rodimus nodded, but still looked incredibly tense. “Regarding the incident... listen, Drift was right... he’s always been so right about me all this time! I thought I was doing good, I would have never hurt anyone on this ship! I made a mistake, a huge mistake and I’m so very goddamn sorry!” Rage was hissing through his teeth, his optics deeply colored with sorrow and regret, “I should have listened to Magnus, but instead I went after the stupid dream of glory, I wanted to show off and I gambled, Ratchet! I gambled! I shouldn’t have! I shouldn’t have, goddamnit!” At this point he was on his feet, pacing back and forth, stopping only to cover his face with both hands.

Ratchet sighed deeply, allowing him to vent, standing up only when the other mech lowered his hands, confused by the lack of reaction. “You sure did, kid,” He dryly agreed, moving his hands behind his back, “And I hope you realize it’ll have consequences,”

With a sudden in-vent, Rodimus was sharply reminded he was standing in front of the captain, “R-Ratchet, I...” He sighed trying to recover some dignity and stood at attention, head low, “Yes, sir.”

“I’m afraid I cannot allow you back at navigation nor in the cockpit, you’re degraded to civilian for the time being.”

Rodimus nodded, expecting that outcome. “Yes, sir...May I know how is everybody else?”

“You don’t have to worry that much, kid, nobody is badly injured and honestly? I think they already forgot about it. The ship is in good conditions, repairs have been done quickly. Only catch is quantum travelling not being possible, although we’re not that far from our destination, we might reach it in less than (a month).”

Rodimus nodded again, slightly relieved, but only for a brief moment, “All this Enheterium  mess is all because of me... Maybe I should have stayed on Cybertron,” He looked up when he felt a hand over his shoulder.

“Very true, very true, but in his mess I can easily say we got good things out of it, many people onboard are safe because they could reach us through the portals,” Rodimus never thought about it, indeed all the quantum passengers were probably still alive due to his mistake. Ratchet quickly caught his enthusiasm growing and squeezed his shoulder hard to keep him with his feet on the ground, “One word of you being an hero...”

“Ehy -ouch!- I deserve some silver lining here!”

“You don’t wanna know what you really deserve, kid,” Ratchet said deadpan.

Rodimus quickly moved a hand to his hurt cheek, “Ehy, I already got a good wallop...”

“And I think Drift should have done that centuries ago! Multiple times!”

Now Rodimus really pouted, but at that point he could only agree with him...

“I’ll talk to Optimus,” After a long moment of silence, Ratchet offered with a smile, “I think his guidance can only be a good thing. Would you like to work with him again if he accepts?”

That answer was almost instinctive, quick and easy, “Of course! Like good old times, I’d love that. I don’t see why he wouldn’t accept, I was his favorite!” At that, the medic rolled his optics big time...

“It settles it then,” Ratchet gave him a couple of good pats on the back and headed to the door.

“Ratchet?” the other turned, “Thank you. I’ll... I’ll make up for it, I promise.”

The medic nodded with a soft smile, “I know you will. Have some rest for now, we’ll meet later,”

Rodimus didn’t have to wait for long for Drift to knock at his door, when his shift was over he pretty much headed towards the medbay in the hopes to talk to his friend. He was welcomed in immediately and the two sat together having, at first, a good spark to spark talk with reciprocal apologies, then he very quickly turned into their usual silly, energetic banter like the Amica endura that they were, where they also panned out a list of the things to do for fun on Earth. It mostly included reckless racing in dangerous areas and, who knew, maybe also Crux would join them eventually, but Drift was quick to smother the energy down on that topic and immediately settled Crux out of the dangerous equation.

--- Earth ---

The loud rumble of two young engines echoed alongside the thunders as they climbed up the mountains, splattering through mud, pine cones, low branches and a lot of knotty thick roots that escaped the ground as if to make a messy staircase. The two Terrans were laughing, racing each other up the steep climb and revving their motors loudly each time they jumped on a huge rock on their path. The rain made it more challenging, but neither of them seemed bothered by it in the least, instead they seemed to have more fun. It wasn’t unusual to spot Thrash transforming mid-jump to either get out of an obstacle or to simply show off and Atlan was quick to call him out for cheating.

“I didn’t see it among the rules, man!” The white kibbled Terran laughed out loud as he transformed back into a bike, splashing mud as he landed in a stream.

So it was on and Atlan started doing the very same, giving Thrash an hard time to keep up for either being faster or quite distracting posing mid-air... Thrash’s vents so muddied up he almost overheated.

The last stretch of the climb was a little bit steeper and the two needed quite a push to overcome that last bit. They both ended up flying over the edge, rearing up so much they risked to do a backward half-flip over the guardrail and crash-land, but purely out of instinct they both transformed and landed heavily on the gravel of the restaurant courtyard, miraculously missing all the parked cars.

They lied flat there, absolutely dirty, laughing and panting, heavy droplets hammering over their metal frame.

“I won,” Atlan tiredly exclaimed as he sat up, leaning on a hand.

“Nah, man, I landed first!” Thrash was starfishing on the gravel, only raising his thumbs to point at himself as winner. He was wearing his goggles, but at that point there was so much mud and muck and pine needles on them that he could see absolutely nothing and the rain was making it worse.

“Eh, I saw your aft land after me, mate,”

“You wish!” He sat up pulling up the goggles and Atlan abruptly burst out laughing. “Whu- What?”

“Allow me,” Atlan blinked to take a picture and sent it directly to him in their private chat. Thrash too had a good laugh upon inspection, the only clean part of his face was his optics.

“You don’t look any better, man!” He did the very same thing and Atlan laughed even harder when he saw himself.

“Please, tell me they have a bathroom here.”

“Something better, they have a T-entrance,” he pointed out at the mansion where a nice canopy stretched out from the entrance. T-entrances were small cleaning standard portals for Terrans, very appreciated when weather was less than optimal. In short it was a very compact car-wash for bipeds. Humans liked to get into those for fun of course. To the side of the canopy there was the glass door for people to use.

The mansion was an old building visibly restructured for tourism, but still maintained the old charm of the original Gothic look. Right behind the main building the ruins of the medieval styled tower reigned over the forest. Immediately Atlan asked if they could visit it after dinner and Thrash was more than happy to oblige.

The restaurant was already half full, they noticed, and there were more people arriving parking in the courtyard. Useless to say Thrash was immediately recognized and given a warm welcome by the oldest members of the team, the ones he worked with. There was no need to ask, after some light teasing about him having a “plus one” they were given one of the best tables with a view on the garden from one of the biggest windows. Atlan was simply in awe by the many vivid colors of the plants and he would have loved a tour even under the rain.

When their food arrived, Atlan got suddenly an email. “Ah... forgive me, it’s from the Academy.” He read it with speed, looking quite surprised. “I’m asked to cover for Professor Malto for an additional week...” He looked up at Thrash, “Is your sibling ok?”

“Wait, what...?” Thrash quickly pulled up the chat he shared with his siblings, which he had intentionally ignored as he was staying with Atlan, thinking it was the usual shitposting full of memes and random talk, he wasn’t expecting anything serious. A few hours back Nightshade was found out by Dr. Sharpenclaw in the lab and sent home after a good scolding. There was a lot of teasing Nightshade by the siblings, but soon everyone wished them to really rest and get better soon, often wrapped up with a comforting “dumbass” at the end. He snorted, “They were caught at work when they should have been home on sick leave. Hold on,” he typed in the chat,

Thrash: I go away for a few hours and chaos happens, uh

Hashtag: Shuddup

Twitch: Yo Wheelie-bin finally you grace us with your response! Where you at?

JB: It was chaotic and embarrassing, thank you...

Thrash: How’s Shade? Still in one piece or Sharpenclaw used them for fowl hunt practice?

Twitch: *gif of a guy holding an axe saying: I axed you a question*

Hashtag: Believe it or not, they are asleep

Thrash: About time! So they need to keep the cast on for another week?

Hashtag: Yep

Twitch: Stop ignoring meeee

JB: Where are you, bro?

Thrash: Little Fort Ruins

Twitch: Oh sure answer the dino, not your twin, thanks

JB: *gif of a cartoony pachycephalosaurus being smug and showing its tongue*

Hashtag: What you doing up there?

Twitch: Wait you there with Atlan?

Hashtag: Woah you took him to the fancy restaurant????

In that moment, Thrash took half a second longer to start typing and the chat exploded with a series of hearts, a waterfall of teasing that got so intense that even Robby and Mo -who were busy studying with their classmates in their respective rooms- joined in and there chaos ensued for real. Thrash snappily closed the chat, his vents whirring loudly and hot.

“Siblings, uh?” There was no need for Atlan to know the content of the chat to understand what was going on. His vents started whirring too, softly, and he was smiling, leaning his cheek on a propped hand.

That made Thrash burn up even more, that he grabbed his drink and gulped it down so fast that steam came out from his vents, fogging up his side of the window. “You’re lucky you only have three,” he grumbled, coughing once to clear his openings.

“Trust me, they are plenty themselves.” He chuckled.

“...They’ve been teasing you too, uh?” Thrash asked with a new-found smugness.

Atlan quickly hid behind his glass, now he was the one whirring hot. He gulped down, ignoring his question. “So, what happened to Nightshade?”

The other Terran snorted at his reaction, “Sharpenclaw caught them, scolded them, forced them to keep the cast for another week and sent them home. I guess he later informed their bosses.”

“And the principal got to me,” he looked at the email he still had on his holo-screen.

“You’re accepting?” The tone of his voice failed to cover a possible hint of excitement.

“Of course!” He answered, mirroring that same excitement, “I’d be honored to continue teaching here a little longer, not that I have much to do at home anyway.” He chuckled and sent a fast response to the email. Within a bit, he received a confirmation of his longer stay and that all the documents will be updated and sent him in copy the next day. “I do wish your sibling to get better soon though, they seem quite annoyed by the cast.”

“Oh, you have no idea, our sister Twitch is always there to scratch them with a puffy duster,”

“Have they gone out when they should have stayed home already?”

Thrashed laughed, “Oh, have they! I got so mad, man...” He gave him a nice round-up of the occasions where his sibling sneaked out to go check how things were going at work and how they pretty much forced his superior to make them work remotely... and still sneaked out for research.

At that point, Atlan was in tear from laughing out loud.

Their meal was plentiful and delicious and the two ended up talking pretty much about favorite games, music, movies... Thrash wasn’t expecting Atlan to be a metal head, he talked about his favorite human bands like Sonata Artica, Hammerfall, Sabaton, names that meant absolutely nothing to Thrash due to him not being a fan of the genre, although he knew a few names like the human band Heavysaurus and the Terran band Cyber-Rex because those were JB’s favorite ones, but nothing else. Movies and games were more on the line for both enjoying a very nice number of the same ones and Atlan gingerly wondered if they could have a game together at Mario Kart.

“I guess we could have a nice friendly match,”

“Awh, no, mate,” Atlan sent a glare at him that made him shiver, “I’m going to destroy you,”

The silence that dropped between them was so thick and awkward that they just burst out laughing.

There were no programmed tour that day due to the weather, but they were still allowed to browse around the garden, much to Atlan’s joy, who seemed incredibly fascinated by the flora, taking a lot of pictures and notes, and Thrash walked lazily nearby letting him having his moment, not fully acknowledging that he’d been staring at him the same way Atlan was looking at the flowers.

On their way out, Thrash sneakily bought one of the biggest books on display with the story of the mansion, the legends, the many ghost stories and an in-deep section of the many kind of plants, and gave it to him.

“Are you serious?” Atlan giggled, surprised, as he collected the paper bag inspecting its heavy content.

“Why not? You seemed very interested in the garden,”

Atlan’s vents whirred softly as he saw what his friend got for him. He gasped, chuckling, “You’re nuts.” He said warmly, hugging the big book, “Thank you, thank you so much. Eh, now you’ll have me on your conscience knowing I won’t recharge for at least three days as I’ll study this brick.”

“A crit I’m willing to take,” He winked, “My pleasure, man. Come on, I’ll get you home.”

“My only hope is that the main road isn’t as muddy as the shortcut,”

“Who said we’re taking the main?” If it wasn’t for the struggle he showed to not laugh, Atlan would have almost believed him. He very much risked a punch in the arm.

The return to the Village took a long while, a bit longer due to some traffic and the rain that still heavily poured down. The two bikes were very glad to be out of the road when they finally reached Atlan’s complex.

“Well then,” Thrash exclaimed shaking the last droplets off his arms, “Same time tomorrow? I could take you to the arcade,”

“Careful, Vents, I’m a pro at Street Fighters II,” Atlan transformed, catching the book as it slipped out from his saddle compartment.

Thrash tsk’d, “Prove it,”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You scared, mate?” Thrash really tried for the Australian accent, but failed so hard that made Atlan genuinely laugh.

“Ah, leave that to me,” He suddenly frowned, “Even though my original accent is a bit washed out at this point... and my Texan accent is horrific.”

“Nah, you sound fine, but I bet the figures of speech have changed, uh?”

“Oh absolutely, even in Scotland was a jarring change.” He snorted.

An awkward silence dropped between the two, who couldn’t stop smiling at each other for a long moment, both feeling as if they needed to say something, but none having the guts to speak first, not until Thrash cleared his voice box.

“Well, I’ll let you rest...I, ah... thanks for today.” He bit his lips a bit embarrassed and made to turn around when Atlan stepped forward.

“Thrash, wait,” he froze when the other Terran locked optics with him, “I... about today...If you ever need someone to talk to, even for the smallest thing, you can call me,” he gulped, “I don’t know how qualified I can be for this, but I’m always willing to listen... if you want of course,”

Thrash blinked, a soft smile formed on his face, touched. “I’m glad you’re the one with more guts than me on this,”

“I mean it,” Atlan pressed confident.

He nodded and shyly offered “You too can call me anytime if you need anything, I like talking to you,”

The red Terran blinked pleased and his expression quickly softened, “You’re a sweet mech, you know that? If I can do anything to help, I’ll gladly do it for you,”

At that point Thrash’s vents were whirring so hot he couldn’t even keep optic contact. He sharply looked away trying his best to look casual. He coughed aloud once in the vague hope to hide his noisy blushing, “W-What you told me today, I will see what to tell my family, I have a lot of thinking to do, but I’ll do it. You’re right about keeping them updated despite everything.”

“I will too on my side... I’ll try.”

“Let’s keep each other updated then,” They both shyly nodded and took each other’s hand in an affectionate shake. “Try to not read it all in one night, ok?”

Atlan took a moment to understand what he meant before realizing he was talking about the book he was holding, “Oh! I, uh, can’t make any promises on that,”

And with that, Thrash settled it, “Have a good night, then. Remember, 3pm out of class and I want you pumped up ready for the match of the century!”

“The loser pays for all the drinks!”

“Deal!”

“And send me a message when you get home, this time try to not fall asleep,”

 Giving him a last look, Thrash grinned and transformed, performing a cheeky donut under the rain before dashing away.

The ride back home was silent, Thrash didn’t even listen to the radio, his head full of thoughts. He wasn’t even speeding, going to an uncharacteristic slow pace on the highway, keeping the right to not bother other drivers. He didn’t go that far off when he just decided to stop to a rest area, transforming to lean on the guardrail, barely noticing the rain finally transformed into a cold drizzle.
Usually situations like that made him angry, too much thinking, too much unresolved stuff, he hated that heavy weight he had been carrying for years, although talking to Atlan had sparked something in him that made him simply at ease. There was a lot on his mind in that moment and he really needed to sort it out, but for the first time he wasn’t negative about it. He still needed to get it out of his system though and the only thing that could help him was a precise exercise.

Way over deep in the dark of the landscape stood Sp.Ark. HQ and the temptation to just climb over the guardrail grew in him.

He huffed in a long sigh and suddenly snorted, just realizing then how the interaction he just had with Atlan went. He couldn’t believe he called him sweet and his vents flared up once again, but that time he let them puff as long as it was needed. He decided that he was going to keep his word to him and the first step was to get thoughts in order. He gingerly hopped over the guardrail and drove into the wild grass patch down the hill and into the open field, he bet Elita wouldn’t mind a bit of mud.

Dorothy was fixing the last things at home, getting ready to watch a late movie with Alex, finally relieved that Nightshade was taking a good rest downstairs in the bunker, JB had left a while ago, but Hashtag was with them so both parents were at ease.

Her phone rang as she got a message and she frowned wondering who could be that late. Seeing it was Elita, her heart sank.

“Dot, Thrash is here with me. He oddly doesn’t look upset, but I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Honey?” Alex walked up to her holding a big bucket of popcorn, “What is it?” She showed him the message and he later rubbed her arm, sighing. “Let’s let him have it, dear, we’ll talk to him in the morning,”

They both knew that it was better that way, let him vent, let him discharge, show him they were always there for him, though the temptation to call him and ask if he was ok was immense, but doing that could only make it worse as they knew from a past experience. The movie was on, but quickly forgotten, neither of the parents were paying it any attention despite being one of their favorites. They weren’t even an hour in that Hashtag and Nightshade awkwardly burst in from the main door holding a note.

Atlan saw Thrash go, disappearing under the rain and waited until he couldn’t see him anymore to then walk inside. He walked upstairs to his apartment and locked the door behind himself. He leaned against it for a solid minute, holding tightly the book in his arms, did he really call him sweet?! He didn’t mean the slip to happen, but it was the truth. His own vents took a while to stop whirring.

He later got online lying in berth to sent all the photos he took of the day to his sisters in their private chat, realizing way too late that among them there were the pic he took of Thrash and the one he sent of him.

His sisters went wild and immediately called him in a video call.

Stella: “OMG look at these two SO CUTE!”

Jane: “You got a dirty bot there, Casanova”

Hazel: “Indeed you enjoyed the view uhhhh????”

That’s it, his reputation was ruined.

Jane was laughing the loudest: “What the hell were you doing in the mud?”

Atlan was trying to hide in the dark of his room, his voice full of embarrassment: “Guys shut the fuck up! We were climbing a mountain!”

Jane: “You sure you weren’t climbing him?!”

Atlan: “JANE!”

The girls were laughing so hard their voices broke in static in the call.

Jane: “Man, stop revving your engine at me, I was joking!”

Atlan scoffed annoyed: “Cut your hormone doses, princess!”

Jane: “Touchy coffeemaker I see!”

Stella: “Cut it out both of you!”

Hazel was looking intensely at her own screen, analyzing the pictures: “You know, I saw him on the news a long while ago, but he surely didn’t look this nice. Despite the mud, he looks like a sweetheart,”

Atlan moved something off-screen, probably his drink, and suddenly launched himself to catch it as something heavy dropped: “Fuck fuck fuck...!”

Stella: “Try to not destroy your new home, dude,”

Atlan reappeared in the camera holding the new book and a few tissues to dry it up, luckily it was laminated and didn’t get damaged.

Jane: “Ohi, you got a new book and haven’t told us? Now, that is rude,”

Atlan showed the cover to the camera so they could see: “It’s about the place I just visited,”

Stella: “Didn’t you once said No more hardcovers, I don’t have any room on my shelves? That thing is bigger than a stone used for the pyramids,”

Atlan’s fingers drummed nervously on the cover, “He got it for me...”

The ladies all sang in chorus, a loud “Ohhhhh!”

Jane: “Oh my, he’s a keeper,”

Stella: “That’s so sweet!”

Hazel: “I’m getting the wedding dress,”

Atlan put the book down, a bit angrily and groaned at the screen: “Guys! Guys! Enough with this shit! Please! I had a long day...”

The three sisters sharply stopped laughing as they saw him rub his optics and avoid to look at the camera, all the cheerfulness gone.

Jane was the first to approach: “Honey, what happened?”

Atlan took a long moment to answer, barely making eye contact: “We had a break on the way to the mansion and... I don’t even remember how it started, but in the end we had quite a talk and...” He moved his hand in the air in a vague gesture. He sighed not giving any other info about it. “...Is dad home?”

Stella: “Yes, of course, he’s downstairs.”

Hazel: “Lanny, what’s wrong? You can tell us,”

Atlan: “It’s nothing that you don’t know already... I just need to clear some things with dad.”

The three ladies seemed to understand and also looked at one another through the cameras with a bit of hope.

Atlan: “Listen, guys, I’ll call you later, I need to think,”

Jane: “Alright, coffeemaker,” her tone was sweet and understanding, “You know where to find us,”

Stella: “Join us anytime, we’ll be here playing until dawn anyway,”

Hazel: “You know we always need a fourth!”

Atlan smiled at them and quickly told them he loved them all before closing the call.

Unbeknownst to him, all three ladies got out from their rooms and rushed to give their dad a heads-up for when Atlan would call him to have a talk. Unfortunately though, it didn’t arrive in the imminent minute...

Atlan sat on his bed, staring blankly at the holo-screen popping out from his gauntlet, staring at the contact of his dad. He falsely started a call a couple of time, interrupting it before it’d go through. He could feel his spark twirl fast in its casing and so many of his abdomen wires contracting in spasms of nervousness.

He took a shower.

Had a hot drink.

Tried to watch a movie.

The clock on the wall said it was 3:19am when he finally returned to the contact and pressed “Call” without interrupting it.

His father had been waiting for him the whole time, only snoozing a little bit on the couch, but he was quick to answer.

“Hi, dad...” Atlan could barely hold his tears from falling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry for calling so late, but... you have a minute?”

It wasn’t long before his tears became happy ones and that became the longest call he ever had with his father.

Chapter Text

“Mhm.” Elita shook her head, disappointed, “This won’t do,” She pulled the punching-bag off the ground to move it, easily heaving it over her shoulder and walked to the corner of the room, it was too soft for the purpose of the night.

Thrash was keeping himself hot for the exercise, arms up ready to strike and bouncing on the tip of his feet. As tradition when working out with Elita all his kibble had been pulled tightly around his body, giving him a very compact frame and his arms had almost a reminder of wraps like he had seen many times in anime. His wheels had been opened and he used them as wrap-up protection for his shins and his goggles had been spread as a full visor. The extensions and arches he had over his shoulders were now used as joints and arms protections, which also gave him the look of a wide-shoulder fighter. His knuckles got reinforced and it showed by the heavy dents he left in the metal punching-bags.

A very heavy new target landed in front of him and Elita patted the top of it, both affectionately and as balance testing, its base was incredibly solid.

Thrash stopped bouncing, looking discomforted, “...Are you sure?”

“What? Big T here scares you? Why not give it a try, you are way too energetic tonight,” She took position behind her very own favorite bag, firmly placing her knee against it and both her hands on the top. “Begin!”

Thrash wiggled his shoulders to test his fibers and got in position. As he was always told, before starting his exercises he always had to taste the hardness of his target to adjust his strength. He still remembered when he thought that was a stupid suggestion at first... he had immediately regretted it.

He gave it a couple of punches, not hard yet not that soft and he felt his arms ring for a few good seconds. That metal was for cybertronians and by the soft dents he could see, even Elita struggled to leave marks on it.

A fuzzy chillness started to eventually spread in his knuckles and Thrash looked up at Elita, confused.

“You feel it, uh, kid? This is why I like Big T. They use this material in surgery tools to keep the operation cold and it’s great on nerves,”

“But awful on my shoulders.”

“Yeah, those will ache for a few days for sure.”

He puffed out his cheeks and focused, he’d give it a try, but would stop if it’d get too hard. He in-vented deeply.

His punches were still tasting the hardness of the material, but the more he got into the exercise, the more at ease he felt even with such an obscenely robust material. Good confidence soon filled his spirit and his routine sped up with good thrown punches and kicks.

“Easy,” Elita calmly reminded him after a long while, surprised to feel the recoil of his hits, “or you won’t be able to move tomorrow.”

He stopped a moment to stretch, his neck popped as he rolled it and gave himself a good shake. The buzzing in his arms was starting to have a numbing effect on him, yet in a pleasant way, almost soothing. He kept hitting left and right, up and down in very rapid succession, fully focusing in the odd feeling that metal was giving him and allowing him to keep his mind in check.
It didn’t take long for his movements to become automatic as the routine went on and his now relaxed mind  dove deep into the memory of recent events.

Right outside the room, Bumblebee was walking down the hallway, in his arms he was holding a good number of tablets and he was reading from one, barely focusing on where he was walking to. Behind him his conjunx followed, looking incredibly bored, until they walked past the permanently open door of the gym. Breakdown, quickly noticing Thrash, was just as fast in snatching the back of Bee’s collar and pulling him back.

“What you do-”

Breakdown pressed a finger on his lips and grabbed his chin, guiding him to look into the room.

The couple exchanged a worried look.

Thrash was giving them the back and paid no attention to the couple, but Elita did see them.

Bee took a step in and placed all his workload on a bench, but at the raising of her hand, he stopped where he was. She wanted them to stay far and wait.

Breakdown squinted, noticing the punching-bag, “Is that Big T...?” He whispered, only to be quickly shushed by Bee.

“Was it that bad today?” Elita carefully asked Thrash.

“Bad? No, no,” He answered in-between hits. He remained silent for a few seconds, his strikes getting slower until he stopped and looked up at her. “I did something I wasn’t expecting to do,”

She leaned more comfortably against the bag, “Such as?” She was looking intensely at him. Usually when he came to throw punches at her gym, he was frustrated, angry, tired and whatever he had in his head was often messy, although this time he looked much, much different, at peace almost, and it was immediately noticeable by his body language as his exercises were clean and precise and not frantic. One of the main reasons why she never used her own bag with him before then was that she knew he’d hurt himself, but now? He was doing wonderfully and she knew it’d give him a new distraction to focus on.

He shifted his weight on a leg first, then to the other, making his arms dangle gently as half excuse for a shake, “You know the  guy who’s covering for Nightshade at the Academy?”

“Mhm, the one you crashed into after OP’s speech a few days ago?” She dared a little tease, hoping for a chuckle, which she got.

“Ah, yeah, him. I’m his touring guide, eh.”

“So I heard,” she smiled proudly. A certain little energetic drone-bot had kept her updated so far. “There’s no better bot to ask to for showing around,” He smiled, a bit embarrassed.

“Today I took him to the Ruins and stopped on the way.” He quickly failed from keeping his tone frantic. “I-I don’t know how it even started it, I felt comfortable enough to open up to him and shared how I’ve been feeling in the last years and what I’ve been doing to feel better. He listened to me and started to share his own story, but stopped, apologizing thinking he overstepped,” he moved a hand up to his elbow, nervously rubbing, but still he looked calm and composed and Elita read that well. That also surprised her since he had never shown this kind of trust to people out of the family and close friend circle, and Thrash knew a lot of people and mechs.

“Tell me, what made you comfortable to talk to him?”

“I-I don’t know... I just did... I felt I could trust him.”

“That’s incredibly nice, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yeah, without a doubt,” He looked down, his lips started slowly curling in a soft smile. “It felt right.”

“And tell me, did you feel something in your spark? A ping? A feeling of a string being gently pulled? A little warmth next to it?”  She grinned and he gave her a look.

“A-ha...?”

She sighed incredibly pleased, “Aw, kid, I think your sparks resonated. Oh don’t give me that confused look, it’s an incredibly positive thing,”

“Ok... what is it? Did... Did he feel the same?”

She chuckled, “Resonance is always between two sparks, so I’m sure he did feel it too. You said he also shared, didn’t you? I bet he was just as comfortable.” She couldn’t help but find his sudden shyness cute, the way he scratched the back of his head reminded her of something in the far past when Orion Pax acted the very same way when talking about another certain bot. She knelt down to be more at his height, “You know what Amica endura is among cybertronians, right?” He nodded. “Resonance is a great indicator for forming such a bond and trust me, it’s not that common to feel it.”

Quite a familiar whirring started echoing softly in the room as he struggled to keep it quite. He jolted when he noticed her leaning closer with her hand, which she used to gently tap up his visor and look at him directly in the optics.

“Uh, you like him,” She stated with affection.

Useless to deny at that point, so he nodded. “I enjoyed very much the time we spent together so far... eh, and he’s really nice, smart and a lot of fun,”

No wonder he came to the gym, she thought, smiling brightly. She pinched his cheek -maybe a tad too hard as she left a small mark- and patted Big T on the top before she could cheekily address the two bots at the entrance, who were suddenly relieved and ready to leave. “Now, now, now, look who the turbofox brought in,” She grinned like a cat that just caught a mouse seeing them jolting, “what you doing here, boys?”

Bumblebee awkwardly and way for too long cleared his throat, “Oh, well, you know...uh... passing through...”

Breakdown smoothly cut in, standing proudly next to the yellow bot, plopping an arm over his shoulders, “Just looking for a quiet, private little niche where we could, uh... have some quality practice time.” The smile he printed on his own face made things even worse as everyone in the room was now giving him the worst of looks, Bumblebee too with a mix of horror.

Elita crossed her arms in disbelief, of all the most ambiguous things he could say...  

Thrash looked at him deeply grimacing, “Dude! Here?!”

The way Breakdown’s bright toothy grin sharply dropped when he quickly, yet too late, realized what the hell he made it look like said it all.

Bumblebee got closer to his audial, “What the hell are you doing?” He whispered.

“I panicked!” The other racer whispered back and quickly coughed out a laugh, “Good Primus, that’s NOT what I meant!”

Elita rubbed her face in a sigh, why did she even bother to call them out...

The yellow bot sighed right with her, patting his conjunx’s back, although he couldn’t help but laugh, “We were just heading home and simply noticed you guys here as we walked by.”

“Got you quite a good amount of reports there, uh?” Elita pointed at the tablets with her chin, not surprised.

“We have enough to last us a month...” Breakdown groaned, “The last download just dropped and it’s insane!”

Elita nodded agreeing, she got her own copy too not long ago and she would read it as soon as Thrash was leaving.

“Since you’re here, Thrash,” Bumblebee continued, “Join us home?” His optics quickly locked with Elita’s for a brief moment in the hope to have a nod as sign that everything was alright.

Thrash considered, “I might still stay here for a while,”

“We can wait for you, kiddo,” BD offered, trying to hide his worry.

The Terran looked up at Elita, who shrugged.

“I don’t mind,” She said, “Let us continue then,” She watched the couple sit nearby to wait and still winked at them as sign to not to worry too much, the kid was in good hands at least for that night.

It was quite impressive and hypnotic to see Thrash punching and kicking with such energy and precision, so much that it triggered Breakdown to eventually join him in the routine. Useless to say Elita found his first attempts with Big T unbelievably laughable and pathetic, but the bot got the rhythm and style right soon enough. The only downside was that he’d be limping for a while for sure. She still admired him for trying and keeping up with Thrash as a worthy attempt to give him moral support. The thing immensely pleased Bumblebee too, it was reassuring to see the young Terran having fun, Breakdown had always had a magic touch for keeping the kid’s spirits up.

It was Elita to put a stop to the exercises, she could swear she was hearing Thrash’s frame vibrate like a diapason, but the small mech still seemed full of energy despite visibly sore. With a smooth twist, Thrash re-framed himself to his usual look and stretched, groaning as he heard his joints crack, but still grateful of the chilling sensation Big T left on him.

Breakdown, on the other hand, looked rusted, everything hurt, even closing his hand into a fist was a task and he silently regretted going to town with that punching bag as hard as he did. As response to that, Bumblebee sneakily grabbed one of his hands and gave it a soft peck while no one was looking, which deeply pleased his companion. Although he jokingly pushed him away as BD cheekily wiggled his eyebrows, showing that smug grin Bee loved so much.

Thrash had packed everything and was ready to go, but first, he walked up to Elita and raised his fist to her.

She gladly bumped it with her own, “Anytime, kid. Just take care, ok? You know my gym is always open for you,”

His expression softened as he considered a couple of things and then he nodded, “Today was good,”

And to that, she happily agreed. “Today was good.”

After everyone collected their own things, the couple and the Terran departed, heading home at a good speed.

It was still quite dark outside and there was not a soul in sight on the highway, which tickled both racers to push on the accelerator, but for Thrash’s safety, they kept their desire at bay. The small bike was riding right between them, following Bumblebee’s lead.

“You sure showed Big T what you’re made of, kid!” Breakdown chimed in after a while. He surely wasn’t going to pass on a chance to have a cheerful talk with Thrash seeing his good mood, especially after training with Elita. “I swear I saw you leaving a dent on it,”

That attempt was so easily caught by Thrash, but he was honestly glad his friend was feeling chatty, “Man, I should have signed it, now no one will ever believe it was me leaving it!”

Bumblebee was barely paying attention to their talk, but hearing them chatting so carefree really gave his spark some relief. His thoughts were still deep into the final download when he suddenly read a high peak of energy. He quickly looked into it, it wasn’t a peak of energon nor a spark... and he realized it was moving incredibly fast when something was caught into his side mirror. “Uh, guys...?!”

The other two barely had the time to react that they heard the stomping of something big running towards them, a clicking of claws on the pavement ringing like bells. In a flash, a huge creature as white as snow with dark red curved horns was right at their side running on four strong paws in a semi-blurry instant. A long thick neck and an elegant spikey-clubbed tail shone like mother pearl in their lights. The moment they all realized the creature was galloping next to them, the trio of mechs panicked at the high frequency the energy the beast emitted and transformed as if ready to fight blaring their guns out, heavily screeching on the asphalt with their metal feet, both cybertronians immediately circling Thrash. Although tension quickly dropped as they noticed the creature’s paw moving to its head as if to sign a salute.

“Apologies! Just passing through!”

And with that ethereal unidentifiable male voice, the creature kept running forward at an impossible speed leaving the three mechs standing there unbelievably confused in a cloud of dust.

Thrash though could absolutely bet that they just met the creature they were hunting down up the mountains. “Guys... I think we just saw a dragon...”

Meanwhile in Optimus’ office.

The main screen was flashing a countdown, within only a couple of minutes the connection was going to be finally live and the videocall could start. Optimus sat at his desk eager and a bit nervous, but ecstatic to finally be able to talk to Ratchet. Megatron hovered behind his shoulder, sharing the same feelings in a way. He patted his arm and headed towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Optimus frowned.

“Giving you privacy. The least I could do.”

“Thought you’d join us,”

“Seeing the circumstances, might be wiser for me to not be in the call.”

Unfortunately, OP had to agree despite his desire to have him near. “You know he’d still be happy to see you,”

“In a way,” Seeing Optimus not fully accepting it, fidgeting on his seat and holding his words, Megatron stepped back to him to squeeze his shoulder. “Believe me when I say I’ll be happy to see him again, hopefully in person after some clearance.”

He nodded and Megs walked out the door knowing he’d be eventually updated.

The screen buzzed and the communication systems finally connected. It took a few seconds to update and stabilize before a very familiar old frame would appear on view.

The joy on the Prime’s face was palpable the moment he recognized Ratchet’s colors shining through the screen and his friend’s features were finally visible, bringing a huge smile on his faceplate, “Ratchet! Ratchet, old friend!” He exclaimed in his own mother tongue.

“Who are you calling old, Optimus?”

The two mechs laughed out loud in a cacophony of excited greetings, not truly knowing at first how to react to each other.

“My, look at you, you rusty antennae, am I happy to see you!”

“You look good! How are you? And what about Drift? And the others?”

“Oh, Drift is as energetic as ever, we sure have some news to share with you lot, and the crew is just as excited as I am to land and start working.”

“By Primus, I thought I knew where to start, but I’m just flabbergasted!”

“That’s new even for you, Prime,” Ratchet chuckled, “Allow me then since we’re on a tight time limit, our communication system is being enhanced through our expert and unfortunately he won’t be able to keep our call going for very long. First of all, is your end encrypted?”

Optimus nodded, “As private as it can be. Cut to the chase, I see, eh. The role of captain suits you,”

“Don’t you start, organizing this expedition was a pain in the aft from the very start,” he joked.

“Although you gathered an amazing team, many mechs here are simply ecstatic to meet friends and family again,”

“Well, that was easily the main drive for many of us too, we couldn’t just leave you guys stranded.”

“Please, have the first word,”

Ratchet cleared his voice and leaned forward, crossing his arms on the desk, “So. The war is over.” His look got a bit more serious. He and Optimus had shared quite a lot in those short letters they were allowed to send, but nothing could escape Ratchet’s judgement and Optimus would be sweating if he could. “And I heard you were a huge part of its end. Not that surprises anyone, honestly. The rumors of Megatron actually joining you right before the destruction of the Spacebridge caused a lot of tumult on Cybertron and as the Allspark was returned, trust me, it was chaos.
Prowl, as expected, ironed out the remaining Decepticon guerrillas under the new Council’s order. The most violent and dangerous criminals had been detained and are still under trial as we speak. Many, and I really mean many ex-decepticons simply surrendered to the authorities, many others hid. Others travelled out of orbit. And I know you saw it, many are in my crew. So far they all proved to be good hard-working lads, they simply needed some guidance.

Cybertron is being slowly rebuilt and I’m sure it’ll please you to hear Cyclonus and Tailgate are the ones in charge for designing the main old cities and reconstructing the First Archive.” That visibly tickled Optimus, the old archivist in him really craved to share everything he had in his library, to share as much data as possible. That made Ratchet chuckle.

Optimus had now quite a list of questions and the next couple of hours were an intense recap of the activity on Cybertron, especially focused on politics. The new Council was mainly formed by young Cybertronians, some of them hadn’t even seen the beginning of the war, but still a few ancient representatives still worked at their side. There was a big division among them on the topic of the leaders of the factions who fought in the war, a part was on the idea to punish and cast out the Primes (now only Optimus being the only one left), others wanting them as full part of New Cybertron’s rebirth since the planet couldn’t fully function without the Matrix. Although that topic was mostly temporarily set aside as the main issue was rebuilding, everyone was tired of the conflict and of its consequences, so the focus was restarting giving everyone a chance to have a peaceful, adjusted life. Optimus had conflicted thoughts on the matter, but he took pride in hearing his people was working hard to achieve what he had fought for so many eons.

It was then Ratchet’s turn to ask questions on how cybertronians were really doing on Earth alongside humans, the little introduction he read from the letters had always tickled his imagination, and Optimus provided an in-depth recap, purposely keeping the focus away from Megatron’s matter, which he tried to keep under the table as long as he could.

Terrans were the main focus of their talk for a long while, Ratchet was captured by their nature, their simple existence was an incredible miracle and the doctor was extremely eager to meet the first-born and study their biology alongside his old coworker Sharpenclaw, who he was quite surprised to hear he was on Earth.

Ratchet was quite fascinated by how every cybertronian on Earth had adjusted and how much the humans were so mostly open to their kind. Starscream was a surprise, pleasant even, neither Ratchet or Drift would think he’d be able to change so much. Honestly also all of the highest-rank Decepticons like Shockwave and Soundwave had pleasantly surprised the medic, although there was still worrying about the scientist and rightfully so, but as long as things were peaceful and stable, he couldn’t complain.

Optimus as well shared about his work so far with the Representatives of the planet and how they were ready to welcome the new comers, sharing the quarantine plan, trying though to tackle the Enheterium topic, but Ratchet wasn’t keen on talking about it just yet and insisted on someone in particular.

There was no use in keeping avoiding the sore point and Optimus eventually gave in.

Both friends shared a painful knowing look in silence for along moment.

“I... was quite surprised to hear from you how you and Megatron are now conjunxes, but I should have seen it coming. In a way.” Ratchet carefully said.

“Ratchet...”

The medic huffed annoyed, but kept his rage at bay. “I’ve known the both of you for an incredible long time, Optimus, and I know what you both had gone through before and during the war, but... there are things I’m not sure are forgivable.”

That made Optimus sit up, his look as serious as it could be. “Ratchet, on certain topics I’m afraid I am as guilty as he is. Despite the short time that has passed from the end of the war, he has proven on multiple occasions he deserves a second chance. The Primes have forgiven him! Ratchet, the Primes! There is no higher stand other than Primus himself!” Ratchet really didn’t want to tackle any religious topic, so he just raised his hands in view, begrudgingly nodding. “The Matrix is having him under judgement still and so far It has not gone against the will of the Primes. My personal involvement has no weight on the matter.”

Ratchet sighed, as much as he wanted to meet D-16 again, he couldn’t fully judge Megatron from a distance. “...Can he be trusted?”

“Yes.” Optimus answered with no sign of hesitation, “Just as much as you can trust me.”

“And I blindly trust you, dear friend.” It was then that he noticed a glimmer at the base of Optimus’ neck as the Prime proudly showed his Conjunx Va-iik. That caught the medic off-guard and he automatically drew a hand to his own little gem in his collar, memories of him and Drift once they formed their link sweetly overwhelmed him. Full trust and understanding... He needed no other proof.

“The regret and pain Megatron constantly lives with is, in my opinion, enough punishment for his wrongs. I saw them, Ratchet, I felt them. Dee is still in there and I still want him to have a better life, to give him back what he was robbed of. I agree that there is no excuse for what he has done, but he’s still trying to pay back any way he can.”

“It’ll be a long way,”

“A path he had taken already many years ago,”

Something in Ratchet seemed to tick as he saw hope in Optimus’ optics. His own conjunx was an ex-decepticon himself, who caused a lot of pain and death in his path and was able to forgive himself only after a very long time of self-punishing and rediscovering, making amend where he could. Drift was no way near the level of Megatron’s, although... were they really that different? If Drift found his way, why couldn’t Megatron? Many conflicting thoughts filled Ratchet’s mind, it was like comparing a dust speck to a planet and for the moment he really didn’t want to think about the topic no more.

“I can only say that I’m eager to meet D-16 again,” he offered a tired smile, of which Optimus was incredibly glad for. “Returning to more imminent matters before Echo will need to close the communication,” During the whole duration of their call, Ratchet had been keeping in contact with Echo to be sure he was alright, the tall mech had taken a reinvigorating rest, but the connection still had its toll on his wires. So far, he could allow a couple of more hours. “Once we have the full clear for landing, we’ll keep the Quantum Leaper in orbit and we’ll use our shuttles for landing in groups, probably three or four at a time, depending on the size of the quarantine site.”

“All the info will be delivered as soon as the Representatives decide,” Optimus proudly said, “and I’ll make sure everything will meet all your needs, our medics and builders will start a plan as soon as possible! Tell me, are you still quantum travelling? I read about the accident,”

“No, the Enheterium tanks have been fully isolated, but I’m afraid we still suffer the effects of the leak. Brainstorm is still registering a constant dilution-constraction of time right as we travel, and damn portals popping in and out of reality like no tomorrow! I had to shut off all engines of the ship to be able to communicate with you in fear of any quantum corruption. Some droplet might have infused with the ship’s standard fuel.

The fact you on Earth had seen the consequences of the leak before we had the accident just baffles me,”

“And so far it’s been on a very small scale, Shockwave is keeping a very vigil optic on any oddity happening on the planet, its satellite and its barren neighbor planet. He highly suggested to not enter the Solar System as long as Enheterium is in your ship’s system,”

Ratchet nodded, thoughtful. “We’ll thoroughly filter all the present fluids onboard and we’ll scan as much as possible until all the Enheterium has been depleted. The last thing we wish is to endanger the whole planet and its inhabitants.”

“What about the remaining tank?”

“Only option I see is to drop it in space. It’ll be tagged and secured so we can retrieve it later.” He snorted, “Eh, Brainstorm will be thrilled,” He added, sarcastic.

“As far as you can.” Optimus nodded and gingerly commanded on the panel for something to drink, which appeared on his desk through a tube system. Since he saw Ratchet order something for himself to eat and drink an hour earlier he’d been quite thirsty. “...How’s Rodimus?”

“He’ll manage, but I’ll be more than glad if you could take him under your guidance again for a while. He’s a good lad and a good navigator, but he looks a bit lost.”

“I’ll be more than happy to have him again in my team, I’m sure we can find him a good spot to be in here.”

Ratchet nodded and grabbed the umpteenth small snack, Optimus had lost count a while ago. “Have you seen any visitor?”

“Nothing on that scale yet. Speaking of which, I’m very curious about that list of yours. Every entry of your log about a Quantum jump was fascinating,”

“More likely terrifying, Optimus, it was literally a leap of faith each time we jumped and you should have seen the struggle in understanding if we were still in our reality or not.”

“Eh, I imagine so.” He sipped, snickering. “You managed to collect a good amount of quantum passengers despite turning down so many others.”

“And yet we still got stowaways...” He groaned. “Speaking of which, their true names are Cee and Quasar.” He sighed, “They’re alright in the end, Cee is a medic, he’s under First Aid’s supervision, Quasar is an engineer in Nautica’s team. They both proved their value quickly.”

“Haha, glad to hear they’re not criminals,”

“Tell me about it, I’m already stressed as I am,” Optimus noticed he was typing again and a new plate of treats arrived at his desk, “They’re still a couple of odd nuggets though, they aren’t sharing much about themselves, seems like they’ve been through something quite traumatic,”

“What about the other q-passengers?”

There wasn’t much to share about the other fifteen passengers, simple people who wanted to work (like the surgeon Knock Out and his conjunx builder Breakdown) or needed assistance (Thundercracker). No accidents had occurred with either of them and Ratchet quickly listed their names and mansions.

Optimus counted seventeen in total, but on his list there were two more people Ratchet shared nothing about. “And what about Echo and-” He stopped mid-sentence as he noticed his friend ordering another plate and that really caught his attention, he had never seen Ratchet nervous-fueling and he had taken note that he’s been quite voracious in the last hour and half. “Ratchet, are you alright? Are you having a deficit?” He asked with a voice full of worry, maybe the quantum travelling had had an effect on his friend?

“What you mean?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“You haven’t stopped refueling in almost (two hours), my friend, I never seen you like this,”

Ratchet blinked at him and gingerly placed down the little enriched energon cube he was holding, starting to heartily laugh. They’ve been on call for hours and he had surely forgotten to share quite an important update.

“Ratchet...?”

“My, my, have I been distracted! Well, you wanted to know about Starbit too I presume,” Optimus nodded, not fully following him, but Ratchet seemed to stop mid-thinking and was now frowning deep in thought. “Ehm... now I’m in a tough spot though. Regarding Echo, the situation might be... a bit problematic, I fear. Regarding Starbit, the thing is utterly personal, which, mind you, I deeply desire to share with you, Optimus. I don’t know which one to share first.” He suddenly raised a finger at the screen, “Regarding your question, I’m more than fine, you’ll hear in a bit,” He quickly reassured him.

That heavily relieved OP, but his mind was set on hearing about Echo first. “Tell me about this fellow Echo.”

Ratchet gave a quick nod, “He’s our communication expert, nurse in training, if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have been able to get this call this early, nor have a first contact from so far away in the first place. I believe you unfortunately never met him, but he worked in one of our bases back in Eccelsium Sector before being moved to one of the moons, Kerys base.” Optimus frowned recognizing the moon base name.

“I remember that base was attacked, I remember the expedition. It was a long time ago.” Relatively speaking it was, being about 4500 years prior.

“We found him again when we were looking for a quantum ship for this quest, Optimus. On an uncharted planetoid and we found him in a secret Pit.” That made Optimus’ wires contort as his thoughts returned to Dee being stuck in a Pit for hundreds of millennia... “The poor fellow has suffered the pains of hell down there and... forgive me, but I don’t know how to elegantly put it without being jarring to hear. He’s been changed into a Sparkeater and, as insane as it sounds, he kept his consciousness. He’s not dangerous, Optimus,” He quickly and very firmly added, “I personally vouch for him! He’s stable, both mentally and physically, all his needs are met thanks to a creation of Brainstorm and Perceptor and he has worked with all his might until now. He’s a perfectly integrated member of my crew.”

Optimus was clearly listening, but he sure looked a bit taken aback, all he could think of was the trauma those creatures had caused Dee when he was forced into being a gladiator. He had to blink a couple of times to focus again on his friend’s anxious expression. They both knew what this news could bring, they both knew it was going to be complicated. He took a deep in-vent, nodding. “This is a problem. A huge problem.” He said with a shaky voice.

“Optimus, if you read the whole log, you must have seen that in the (149,54 years) we’ve been having Echo onboard, he caused absolutely no issue whatsoever! He’s not dangerous in any level,”

“I know, I know, I read so, his name never appeared in any negative report, and I do trust you, my friend. I’m... thinking though... The people of this planet need to know about him,” the more he thought about how to present him to the Representatives, the brighter he looked, “If you vouch for him, so will I, my friend, but I’ll need all the data about him you can gather and I’ll make sure the Representatives won’t have to fear anything from him,”

Ratchet looked incredibly relieved for a moment, but tension was still thick between them.

“And about Megatron... I’ll talk to him.” He said firmly. “Won’t be an easy task, but I give you my word things will go smoothly.”

That did little to reassure the medic, but he trusted his leader. “After all, there’s no other mech in the universe better than you to face him directly at this point, Mr. Conjunxed...”

Optimus cheekily took chance to proudly show again his little gem at the bottom of his neck.

“I’m happy to hear our dear Echo has your full support, it’ll keep his spirits quite high,”

“Of course! He’s officially Prime supported,” That stole a little chuckle from Ratchet, “And I’m eager to meet him as much as the rest of the crew,” The medic nodded, glad, “Now that this topic is settled, is there anything else you wanted to tell me?” He hadn’t forgotten about the last secret member crew and hearing it was something personal to Ratchet really intrigued him. He kept his drink close for having a couple of sips, the last argument made him feel his mouth dry.

“Well then, changing to Starbit,” Ratchet had an odd proud smile on his faceplate, something Optimus had seen in very rare occasions, “There’s been quite a surprising event on this very ship and said from me, a doctor, surely means something,” He pushed his chair back, “Believe me, this was neither planned nor expected. Eh, it just happened,”

At first Optimus couldn’t understand what he was talking about and seeing him standing up -struggling a bit- confused him even more. Once he saw, he almost choked on his drink. The belly bump, to human standards, wasn’t as round as one would expect, but to a cybertronian that was almost full term and Ratchet was indeed showing reinforcements on his whole frame that at first escaped Optimus’ optics.

Ratchet sat back down seeing how speechless his friend was, “Hahaha! Did the turbofox steal your tongue, Prime? Eh, Starbit is just a nickname, his name is Crux,”

Optimus coughed out a wheeze, still finding hard to recollect his words, “A sparkling?! You are having a sparkling?! The first in Primus knows how long?! You and Drift?! Drift is the sire?!”

“Who else?!” At this point Ratchet was just laughing at loud and Optimus followed him having a giggle fit and tears forming in his optics. It took both quite a moment to calm down and breathe again.

“I have so many questions, my friend!”

“You’re not the only one,” Ratchet scoffed. In that moment he received a message from Echo, who would need to detach real soon. “We don’t have much time left, by the way,”

“Oh, by Primus this is wonderful news! Ratchet! Of all mechs, you! How- no wait, don’t answer that... Goodness, congratulations are in order! Once you land I shall personally give you, Drift and Crux a Prime-worthy welcome! With special honors and a big celebration!”

”Optimus...”

“When are you due?! Will he emerge on Earth? Would it be possible?”

“Optimus, haha, please, thank you but remain calm.”

The Prime awkwardly cleared his voice-box, a bit embarrassed and recomposed himself, “Please, do tell,”

In the short time they were still allowed, Ratchet gave a speedy recap of his own situation, how he and Drift discovered the carrying years prior and how the spillage had actually altered the sparkling’s growth to no real consequences if not a shorter carrying time. Both parent and sparkling were incredibly healthy. And about emergence there was no real answer to that, it wasn’t possible to determinate a precise date, although Ratchet felt more secure in saying that it would be much safer to deliver the sparkling on the ship, so if the Quantum Leaper would arrive before Crux’s emergence, Ratchet would be the last to set foot on the planet. In that case, if Optimus wanted to meet him, he would have to board and need to go through the same custom the q-passengers had gone through, including thorough medical check-ups. To that, Optimus saw no fault and would gladly do it.

“Be sure you’ll be updated of any event,”

At this point, Optimus was giddy, shivering with emotions he was barely controlling, smoke puffing out from his shoulder exhausts. The happiness he was feeling for his dearest friend had no equal, if he could he’d hug the hell out of Ratchet and Drift and bless them with all the Matrix power he had in store.

The medic easily read him and could only snort and shake his head, Good old Optimus...

“I’ll be looking forward to hearing all you have to say then,” The Prime politely stated, containing himself.

“And with that our time is up, Echo is at his limit and I don’t desire to strain him more than necessary. Dear Optimus, has been an immense pleasure to talk to you again,”

“Likewise, old friend! Until next update in the imminent future,” Optimus was grinning, his words had of a little tease note in between and it sure struck right.

Ratchet’s optic twitched, “Call me old once again, you rusty flicker and I swea-”

The screen unexpectedly flashed a bright CONNECTION LOST right there and then, as if summoned at the right moment for comedic timing and sure enough each mech knew the other was frankly laughing at it.

Optimus heavily leaned on the back of his chair in a moment of silent deep thinking. He wasn’t expecting to hear so many important and unexpected news, but a sure thing his spark was swelling with pride for so many things. His mind immediately started running on how to work his way with the Representatives and most importantly, how to update his fellow cybertronians. For the latter a video recap to share digitally would be the easiest option. For the Representatives, he’d just go to their meetings with a presentation.

For Megatron... he’d naturally be the first to be informed, although Optimus was sincerely scared on how he’d take the news about Echo.

Chapter Text

Megatron had just returned to his and Optimus’ quarters after leaving his companion to his call when he received an unexpected call from Dorothy. Very unusual for her to call in the middle of the night. “Dot,”

“Megs, you gotta see this,”

The mech frowned hearing her voice trembling a bit, “Is everything alright?” As he spoke he was already out of his studio and heading towards the main door.

“Yes, yes, but we might have aliens among us!”

That made Megatron freeze in his steps with a screeching halt, “...Is that a joke?” He sighed, there couldn’t be anyone more alien than him...

“I don’t mean you! Come over and see for yourself, Nightshade has found something,”

“I’m on my way.”

Unbeknownst to him, right as he was walking down the hallway, a serpentine dark figure stretched his head out of shadow looking around in pure silent curiosity.

-

Ratchet was still containing his chuckle as the connection got lost, his face scrunched up half in rage half in amusement due to Optimus’ cheekiness. If he had his friend in front of him he’d fill his audials with so many (allegedly affectionate) raunchy insults that Optimus would go deaf for a week. He sighed in relief though, that was a very pleasant chat in the end.

He quickly wrote to Echo to hear from him, but he got no response. That worried him. He was about to call Drift when his conjunx simply knocked at his door, entering upon being allowed in.

“How did it go?” He gingerly asked while closing the door being himself.

“Better than expected. Do I have things to share,” He stretched out a hand and Drift smoothly caught it, pulling him up on his feet. “How’s Echo?”

Ever so softly, Drift kissed his knuckles and held his hand warmly in his. “He’s fine, he was taken to recharge,” A little grin grew on his faceplate, despite the many things he wanted to know, one in particular kept jingling in his head and Ratchet pretty much read his mind as a hand moved to his bump.

The doctor snorted, shaking his head. “Optimus is ready to throw a royal celebration,”

“As expected,” Drift laughed and got comfy next to him as Ratchet took his time to update his companion, although they were interrupted shortly after.

“Aid?” Ratchet answered his audial. In those couple of seconds of silence, his face turned into a deeply worried frown. “We’re coming,”

Drift helped him up without the need of an input, “What’s going on?”

“Echo needs us. Infirmary, let’s go.”

When they arrived at the medbay, there were a bunch of nurses right in the hall outside First aid’s office, all worrying and whispering to themselves. As Ratchet walked in, a bit of panic hit them like a wave, making room for their superior in a hurry.

“Get back to your stations! There’s nothing to see,” He grumbled as he opened the door for Drift, letting him in first, and following right after.

In the room, Aid was quick to stop them to give them a very quick update, whispering, “By the time you got here, Percy got him to calm down,”

Peeking from their position, they could see Brainstorm and Perceptor in the small adjacent room where Aid usually checks on his patients and they could hear Echo’s vents huffing.

Drift carefully moved closer until Echo could see him from the smaller door frame and the sparkeater seemed unbelievably relieved on the spot to see him. “Ehy, chap, what you think you’re doing here? You should be recharging,”

Echo looked shaken and very tired sitting on the examination table, his muzzle-mask was deployed over his nose and mouth, his optics were shining (which gave the poor fellow a look that easily creeped any onlooker out) and kept his long arms about his frame, as if to keep them and his tentacles steady, and his knee was jerking up and down erratically. Brainstorm was kneeling at his side, thoroughly checking his tank and had with him his briefcase where he had stored an emergency refilling dose for him. Perceptor was at his other side, rubbing his shoulder.

“Just... a little tantrum...” Echo said, unable to look at him in the optics.

“Done! There, told you you didn’t need that much, barely a drop. Two, tops.” Brainstorm popped on his feet standing proudly and frantically packed everything while being behind their odd friend. He quickly sent a worried look towards Perceptor and Drift, briefly showing the re-filler being half depleted and putting it away before Echo could catch his lie.

Ratchet entered the scene, “Hi, Echo,”

The communicator expert bowed his head at him, “I... hope the call had no interference?”

“None at all and you gave us just the perfect amount of time to clear the main topics splendidly.” At least that made Echo smile with some pride, “I’m not here to talk about the call though, I want to know about your wellness,” He noticed him shivering and well recognized a sign of stress. Of course, being a medic in the spark, his first instinct was to help him relax, so he opened his gauntlet compartment and offered him one of his enriched energon cubes. Those nutrients had honestly nothing calming per se, but they had randomly discovered a long time before that it had that nerve-soothing effect on Echo.

“Ratchet, I can’t accept one of your-”

“Why am I not seeing you chewing?” He threatened, insisting, “Just grab it, you need it more than I do,”

Half-fearing for his life and half-laughing at the nice gesture, Echo accepted it, popping it in his mouth, briefly opening his mask. “Well, I could be worse... I could have bitten a digit off,” He tried a snort, but that came out sadder than expected. Seeing no one laughing, he looked up at Perceptor as he felt him patting his back, encouraging him to share when he had previously told him. The thing really didn’t excite him and the shivers returned to him, “Truth is... I’m not thrilled to land... I-I’m terrified of Megatron...”

That wasn’t unexpected, but it was still harsh to listen to. At that point, Ratchet grabbed the closest stool and sat in front of him. “Understandable.” He firmly nodded, “Undeniably, undisputably, clearly understandable. Although consider this, my dear friend: I just had a good talk with Optimus, haven’t I? I was going to share it eventually with you anyway, thought to let you rest first, but I can only say this is the best time. I updated Optimus about your unique situation and I’m more than happy to tell you that he, not only is eager to meet you, but he has granted you with his very own personal support to guarantee you to land and live on Earth as safely as any other bot present on this forsaken ship.”

The tremors that were invading the sparkeater’s body seemed to slowly disappear after hearing the news and Echo’s optics widened with stupor, straightening his posture, now with arms forward to sign his emotions, “Wait... you’re saying I have Optimus Prime’s support...? You mean I have the protection of a Prime?!”

Ratchet affectionately patted his skinny knee, giving it a squeeze, “That’s what I said, kid!”

“But... this means... he wants to support me, going against his own conjunx’s will?”

“My, aren’t you the luckiest mech in the universe now?” Brainstorm elbowed him, but Echo was too awestruck to react. Sure enough they all soon heard his jaw snapping as he involuntary started clicking his fangs. That was unfortunately a reaction to excitement he had no control over and despite the presence of the muzzle-mask, he still had enough room in it to do that movement. He really tried to stop it  bringing a hand to his mask, but at the same time he tried with the other hand to cover his tears that came down heavy. It was Perceptor to eventually laugh and pull him tight in his arms, and Brainstorm and Drift joined in congratulating him.

Ratchet patted his knee again and got on his feet, quickly sending First Aid a look. He joined him in the other room for a private chat. “I need your help,” He whispered, hoping Echo’s fine hearing wouldn’t pick up, but at least the tall mech was too distracted to care.

“Anything, Ratchet,”

“I need to send Optimus a file containing the whole score about Echo, but it needs to be as if Megatron would get his hands on it,” He sent him a careful look and for a short moment he saw Aid’s optic shining behind his visor. The younger medic nodded slowly, understanding. “Do not add this episode he just had, I’ll update Optimus privately.”

“Leave it to me, boss,”

Ratchet warmly patted his shoulder, “I can always count on you,”

“Of course,” Aid grinned under his mask, “and since you’re here, it wouldn’t hurt to have a scan at Crux.” There and then his superior sent him a look that could melt metal, but Ratchet still agreed, grumbling.

Optimus had taken his time in recording his short yet info-rich video about the New Cybertron and the latest agreements for the Quantum Leaper’s crew landing, he kept it as simple as possible, yet he barely could keep his excitement in. After a final reviewing, he sent it out to all cybertronians, although there was something more important he needed to do. He sent private convocations to Bumblebee, Elita, Wheeljack and Arcee, wanting them to meet him in his office asap. He would have sent it to Grimlock too, but the dino-bot was not in town. Ratchet had given no instructions upon his personal situation, but knowing him, Optimus could bet he’d want their dearest friends to privately hear about Crux. He quickly received an answer from all but Bumblebee, which surprised him. He still waited, but at the same time was deeply contemplating about talking to Megatron.

The door was open when the mechs arrived, all seemed a bit happily eager to meet up together like old times, even if partly.

Optimus got on his feet and saluted them, “Has any of you seen Bumblebee?”

“He was just at the gym, OP,” Chimed Elita, “He and Breakdown had left not long ago, they were taking Thrash home,”

Optimus nodded with a grunt, “Odd he’s not answering my summon. I guess I’ll update him personally later if he doesn’t come,”

Wheeljack scoffed, smiling, “Kids these day,”

Arcee was looking around, “Where’s Megatron?”

Elita raised an eyebrow at the Prime, “You never leave him out, OP, what’s going on?”

“You’ll see why I left him out in a moment, Elita, please, be patient,” He tried again to contact Bee, but still got no answer. Wheeljack tried too and tried Breakdown as well, but to the same result. It was quite odd, but it had happened already a couple of times in the past so Optimus just let him be. “Well, might just be wise to continue,” He clasped his hands together with a bit of excitement and cozily leaned on his own desk, almost sitting on it. “You all just received the official recap from my call with Ratchet, but there’s, of course, some other matter I wanted you to hear privately since we all are quite close to our friend.” Seeing a couple of frowns, he quickly added, “Fear not, he’s doing quite good! And Drift is at his side as always and he’s good too. In a matter of fact -HA!- the thing I want to tell you is directly about them.” He had to hold himself from giggling, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to really contain his eagerness, “Forgive me, everyone, but I’m still processing it! It’s so incredible it’s hard to believe it!”

Now every mech in the room was on their toes, eager to hear it, but Optimus was struggling to not laugh.

“Tell us already, OP!” Snapped Elita.

“Alright, alright, haha! So you won’t believe it, but our Ratchet is actually carrying a sparkling,”

The news felt like a hard splash of water right in the face and the other mechs fell silent for a good few seconds. Arcee was the first to squeal excitedly.

“Waitwaitwait! Oppie, are you serious?!”

“Oh, I couldn’t be any more serious!”

“Really?! Ratchet?? Our Ratchet?! He’s the one sparked?!” Elita snapped with enough incredibility to let her cool pose get loose.

“I couldn’t believe it myself, Elita, and I saw him!”

“Was he bulkier? And with...” Her hands signed the protuberance of a full forge in front of her stomach.

Optimus crossed his arms and nodded deeply, “And he looked almost full term.”

Arcee suddenly grabbed Wheeljack by the arm trying to contain her happiness, giving him an hard squeeze and making him yelp in the process “A sparkling! When was the last time we’ve seen a sparkling?! Or any new mech being forged at all?! This is amazing news, Oppie!”

Wheeljack quickly tried to unhook her grip in a silent plea for his arm, “By Primus! Has it been a long time indeed! But, wait a second, Optimus, does it mean he’s been travelling under quantum in his conditions? That’s unheard of! And full term? Is he coming to Earth for the emergence?”

“The quantum had apparently a very minimum effect on them,” He gave them a quick update on their friend’s conditions, “and he’ll stay on the ship until the sparkling has not been delivered, seeing the extremely delicate situation,”

“Do we know when he’ll have him?” Elita asked, worried.

“Impossible to guess, I’m afraid.”

“Talk about a surprise welcoming party,” Wheeljack scoffed, patting Arcee’s hands, which now gripped gently.

“What about the name, Oppie? Do we have one?”

“Ratchet and Drift called him Crux,”

“Eh, that’s a really cute name,” Elita stated as Arcee agreed with glee. “What about the Starbit we saw on the confidential list?”

“That’s a nickname that stuck, apparently.”

“That’s adorable!”

Wheeljack looked deeply thoughtful for a good long moment before stepping closer to his leader, “Optimus, if I may, I suggest we do something special to celebrate them,”

“I’m all audials, my friend!” He eagerly looked at him wanting to hear some ideas, but the engineer’s face said that he was expecting the very same from the Prime.

They stood very awkwardly there, waiting, in the vain hope for the other to share something first...

Upon acknowledging the silence, Optimus cleared his voice and straightened up, his vents were whirring in embarrassment.

Elita and Arcee too awkwardly waited for some idea to hit them...

“Does... anybody remember what to do in these occasions at all?” Arcee asked almost in a whisper.

Elita shook her head, “None of the friends I knew back then ever had a sparkling...”

“Never got to check myself...” Wheeljack confessed.

“And I... forgot the tradition...” Although Optimus looked positive, “I will look into it! And if I find nothing I say we try something local, I might ask Dorothy what’s traditional here to do and give for celebrating a new spark,”

“That sounds so sweet, Oppie, I love that!” The others agreed.

Elita chuckled to herself, “You know, it’s really hard for me to imagine our Ratchet’s frame right now. I bet he’s still cursing like a cargo worker.”

“I honestly would love to see him like that, he must look so good!”

“Eh, Drift is a lucky bot, indeed,” Smiled Wheeljack.

Optimus remained silent for the time his friends continued talking and gossiping about the event, they all looked so ecstatic and happy for their comrade and they all really hoped to see him and Drift really soon with all their spark... Although his long antennae slowly dropped back, not sure he felt ready and either wanting to share the next news.

Of course, Elita noticed his mood change immediately. “Optimus?”

Being called out, at that point he just opted to tell, “There’s something else you need to know and I’m terribly sorry for souring this joyful moment we’re sharing for our friend, but it’s really important for you to be aware of it. Unfortunately the topic is so different and has such a jarring contrast that I thought better to share last. And it’s the reason why I haven’t summoned Megatron in the first place,” Seeing all their piercing optics on himself, he nodded and continued, “You all remember the entry on the confidential list about a certain Echo?”

“The oddly tagged Not dangerous one?” Wheeljack widened his optics, wondering and expecting the worst.

“That statement still holds, my friends, I have Ratchet’s honorary word this fellow Echo is not to be seen dangerous at all. For the whole period of their journey there’s not a negative note about this communication expert of theirs, we have to thank him for being able to talk to Ratchet in the first place. He’s an honest hardworking mech, and Ratchet had proudly said he’s a nurse-in-training,”

“Then why this odd emphasis, Optimus?” Elita asked starting to feel unnerved, enough that Optimus gently signed towards her to remain calm.

“I’m getting to it, Elita, please... This fellow had been met with an awful fate many, many eons ago when he was captured in Kerys base,” The three mechs well remembered that event on one of the moons when the Autobots had lost the base to a violent attack. None of the researchers and workers there had ever been found. “He’s very recently been discovered as they were looking for a quantum-travelling ship and they found him in a Pit.” Optimus gave them no time to digest that, “He had been changed to the worst, changed into a sparkeater. And somehow he had kept his consciousness the whole time,”

A deep, unbreathable, dead silence dropped among the present, enough to even deafen the natural whirring of their vents and the humming of their sparks.

“...Ha-...How is it possible, Oppie?” It was Arcee to break it first with just a whisper of her voice. It was Wheeljack this time around to tightly grasp her arm as he stood next to her as if paralyzed.

Optimus’ shoulders dropped as he shook his head, “No one knows, my dear... But it’s the truth. Ratchet was adamant about him and he absolutely vouches for him! He said Echo is a valuable member of his crew and that he had never crossed a single line while travelling, there’s not a bad word about him in any report and his needs are all met thanks to Brainstorm’s work. Ratchet will soon send a full report card about Echo for us to know him in details.” It was then that he noticed how tightly Elita was clutching at her own right arm. She had many battles under her belt and just as many scars hidden under her armor to prove it. She well knew what a sparkeater was capable of and her only encounter with one of those creatures left her luckily almost unscathed, but still left a deep impression on her. “Elita...”

“This is bad, Optimus, very bad and you well know it.” She stated calmly yet firmly.

Optimus nodded, “I’m aware things might get quite complicated-”

“The moment Megatron comes to know about this, he’ll block the whole operation!” She stepped closer to him, suddenly cutting him off. “We cannot afford this, Optimus! Not now that we are so close to have a chance to see our friends and families again...”

“Elita, I assure you, I shall talk to him,” He gently took hold of her right hand in his, giving it a good squeeze, “You know him well, my friend, you’ve known Dee as long as I did and-”

She pulled her hand away, annoyed, “I’ve also known him as Megatron just as long as you did, Optimus. As much as I respect him and care about him today, I well know what he’s capable of.” She pointed at the gem in Optimus’ collar, “The Bond you two share won’t make any of us forget that. I do trust him just as much as I trust you, that is true enough, and I’m sure you’ll able to handle him once you tell him about Echo...” Her annoyance quickly dropped, turning into deep worry, “How he’ll handle himself though... that’s what unnerves me, OP.”

Optimus froze for a long moment before nodding slowly, but at the last second he straightened up, chin up and chest out, wanting to show reassurance. “I’ll make sure things will go smoothly! I know my own conjunx better than myself and I promise you, nothing will impede our friends from landing, you have the word of a Prime!”

That did seem to give the three mechs some good reassurance, but as not as much as he was aiming for...

“When are you going to tell him?” Wheeljack asked.

“As soon as possible, but first I wanted to update Bumblebee,”

“I can do that if you’d like,” Elita offered, “So you can focus on Megatron,”

After a moment of thought, Optimus agreed, “And once you get to him, scold him for missing an important summon,” He tried to joke around and was glad that Elita was recipient for it, chuckling and nodding back.

“I might finally get my chance to spank the little brat,”

“Do not leave any mark on my boy’s chassis, please,”

“I make no promises there,”

Optimus warmly laughed and waved a hand at them all, “Dismissed,” He said, still chuckling. The three mechs promptly took their leave, but as soon as they were out of sight from Optimus, they all shared a very worried look, yet they still gave each other a nod, wanting to give as much credit as possible to their leader and his conjunx.

Megatron had been spending his time with the Maltos as Dorothy gave him a call. As he had reached their property, he had immediately found Nightshade frantically working around the area, delimiting spots with scanners, cameras of different nature and invisi-fences, snapping at anyone who’d get too close to the sensors they were given back by a mysterious visitor.

“Weren’t they supposed to be recharging under doctor’s order?” Megatron had eventually asked the parents.

“Try reminding them that, Megs,” Alex answered sipping his fourth cup of black coffee.

Twitch was hovering next to them as well, ready with a new cup for her mom. She’d been called over to bring home a few instruments from work and she had loudly shared a piece of her mind for being called to practically go against the doctor’s orders again for Nightshade, yet seeing the situation she just gave in with the promise of a homemade treat they’d provide themselves. Although she wasn’t complaining, she was happy to see Megs and she had cheerfully sat on his shoulder sipping something too.

Hashtag had been tiredly collecting any minuscule input she was given and Nightshade had tried to elaborate anything they could to find the nature of the visitors consulting Megatron’s immense personal database on all the life forms he had met throughout his long life. Although there wasn’t much to work on if not for certain EM and gamma prints, nothing physical on the level of footprints, hair, skin cells, anything at all could be found. The research through the database was way too wide to pinpoint down.

Though that didn’t discourage Nightshade at all.

It wasn’t that long that Bumblebee, Breakdown and Thrash arrived in a hurry just before dawn frantically trying to communicate they saw the white creature.

Nightshade firmly snapped their claws right in front of Thrash’s nose to catch his attention. “Say that again. You saw what?!”

Thrash lightly shook his head, blinking, annoyed by the snap. “The white beast from this morning! I’m sure of it! And it looked like a dragon!” The intensity of Nightshade’s stare almost made him shiver.

Megatron raised an eyebrow at Twitch, “What’s... a dragon?”

“Remember those stories with brave knights fighting huge scaly beasts? Or those about the same beasts flying among the clouds and breathing fire? Or helping quest-lovers in fairytales?” Megs nodded, perplexed. “Those.”

“Ah. Right.”He confusedly remembered, Terrestrial mythological beasts weren’t his wider field of knowledge, but he recalled seeing a good number of Terrans choosing those beasts as their alt-form.

“Download your memory,” They demanded firmly.

“Ohi you think I recorded it?! As if I had time to do it! Ask Bee, he registered the signal it gave!”

Those big owl eyes moved to the yellow bot, making him flinch.

“Uhhh... yeah, I saved it in my h- OW! Shade!” He whined as the owl-bot very firmly grasped him by a finger and dragged him closer to their station. Despite still wearing a cast, Nightshade showed quite a strength when they really wanted something.

Megatron observed and smirked, leaning down closer to Dorothy to whisper, “I see they got that from you.”

Dorothy smiled behind her coffee beaming with pride, “Of course, they’re my babe.”

“And they also got your stubbornness, honey.” Alex giggled as she pinched his arm as a first warning.

Eventually, Megatron got on his feet, “Well, you have my archive, use it as you see fit,” he announced to the presents, letting Nightshade have their fun, he had another matter to take care of and it really didn’t please him. He had no doubt one or more Visitors had arrived in their area, he felt it around him, all his sensors were picking up an unfathomable presence and he felt watched the moment he arrived in the Maltos’ property. He had tried to find the source of the peak, but not even with Nightshade’s work he was able to see anything. What was annoying him particularly was the silence from dear old senator Shockwave, and if Megatron knew him well -which he did- he knew the senator was aware of the creatures and had kept silence. The most logical outcome Megatron could think for his choice was that he wanted to capture the Visitors and study them, undisturbed. That decision was not up to him.

“Ehy, there’s Optimus!” Twitch spotted the truck before anyone else, even before Megatron, who was so deep in his thoughts he really didn’t notice, not even through their reverberating Bond.

The Prime smoothly transformed and waved to all the present, surprised to see so many people. “Good...uh... morning, everyone, hope you don’t mind if I grab Megs for a moment?” He really didn’t pay much attention to what Nightshade was doing with Bumblebee, nor the yellow bot’s look that screamed Help me.

Megatron walked closer to him, looking sceptical, “What are you doing here? I thought you were on call with Ratchet,”

“I was! And I have sent out a recap presentation,”

Checking his holo-screen, indeed Megatron found the notification that he had previously ignored, “Ah. It was you. I thought it was Sharpenclaw’s weekly report,”

“He sent that yesterday,” Optimus looked at him unimpressed.

“Right, right,” He scoffed apologetically.

“Megs, I need to talk to you... but... could you first tell me what’s going on here? Why is Bee covered in sensors up to the tips of his audials?”

“We have Visitors,” Optimus blinked very surprised, “Nightshade got an indirect contact with one and they are trying to understand what creatures have arrived. They seem peaceful enough and Bee apparently registered an energy signal. He and those two,” he pointed at Breakdown and Thrash, “saw one on the highway,” He huffed annoyed, “Shockwave hasn’t informed us,”

At that Optimus frowned thoughtful, “No, he hasn’t. Are you sure he’s aware?”

“I know my mad scientist well,”

“We’ll... get to him, but first I really need to talk to you,”

“Optimus!” Bee stumbled forward, struggling to remove all the sensors from his chest, “Optimus, forgive me for not answering earlier, I didn’t want to ditch the meeting, but I was caught up,”

There, Megatron gave his companion a look that clearly said Explain yourself,  since he had gotten any summon. Optimus cleared his voicebox and nonchalantly waved at Bee, “It’s alright! Elita will update you,” his cheerful tone quickly turned into a lower hiss through his teeth, “now I really need Megs for a minute,” he said as he pushed the other big mech away from the property, forcing him down the road. Bee frowned and shared a confused look with DB, who shrugged. A clawed smaller hand snatched his finger again and dragged him back to where he was.

“I’m not done yet!” Pouted Nightshade, ignoring Bee’s protests. The poor bug really couldn’t think what it was going to be worse, Nightshade using him as a test subject or Elita chewing him up for missing a summon... he surely wasn’t getting any break that night...

Once finally alone in a wide clearing not too far from the property, Optimus could finally focus on Megatron.

“Alright, what is it?” The grey mech crossed his arms, half-offended for not having been summoned.

“Eh... I... I just wanted to give you the news face to face,” Which wasn’t that false of a statement and Megatron accepted it, nodding. Taking a bit of courage, Optimus gave him a fast update on Cybertron, which was a topic he knew he took at spark to hear about and Optimus really felt the reassuring veiled joy Megatron silently emitted through their Bond, although with a very faint hint of worry for the far future, which Optimus unfortunately reciprocated.
When the topic changed to Ratchet’s personal news, Megatron thought he heard wrong at first. Once he acknowledged it, he seemed incredibly pleased. After all, deep down he still wanted to call Ratchet a friend and an ally.

“A... sparkling? Uh. Thought the single concept of it was lost during the war. I’m... happy for them.” He said in his usually stoic manner, but his sentiment was genuine. Meanwhile Optimus was absolutely excited about it and showed it with glee for a while, which seemed to drag for a bit longer than necessary and Megatron immediately knew his companion was dragging time for something. He let him have his moment, trying to find the words, but the lower Optimus’ audials dropped, the more unnerved Megatron felt. “You’re stalling.”

Optimus scoffed, “No, I’m not! I’m just very excited for Ratchet and I wanted you to know it!”

Yet Megatron’s optics remained hard, staring at him, “There’s something you have to tell me and you don’t want to, Pax. I’m not wrong, am I?”

Optimus’ curtain fell in a single drop and he vented deeply, nodding, “Dee, I... I need you to focus on me for a moment,”

That calmed the other bot on the spot as a warm EM wave engulfed them both. “I’m always focused on you,”

There Optimus actually felt flattered and cheekily stole a hand of his to briefly kiss his knuckles. The other scoffed pleased crossing his arms again after such a sweet gesture, but frowned as Optimus seemed troubled to find his words. After a moment, Optimus’ hand moved to his own hub and pulled out the tethering cable, offering an exchange. At first Megatron stared at the cable head for a brief second, not fully understanding why the secrecy, but still accepted without any hesitation.

Leaning their foreheads together as a little sign of affection, they connected to one another at the same time to avoid protocols being blocked, which always made Megatron struggle. Their connection felt like a refreshing wave, relieving both mechs as cleaning and rearranging files automatically started.

Optimus rubbed his partner’s arms and moved back, looking up straight in his red optics. Dee, listen, I fear that the news I’m about to share won’t please you... His thoughts touched his partner’s receptors directly through their tethering.

Megatron simply nodded in anticipation, no real emotion colored his side of their linkage, yet he remained very calm. Pax, just tell me.

Optimus knew it was useless to beat around the bush with him, the news had to go out and direct to hurt less and at that point, he had no other choice. I came to know about the nature of a crew member Ratchet himself vouches for very, very much... It’s Echo, the communicator. He’s a good mech, he helped a lot during their journey, but... as incredible and baffling as it is... he’s a sparkeater...

The sharp, piercing pain hit between his optics like a burning rod through his brain core as his mind was flooded with ancient memories of nightmarish fights, and Optimus was only half-bracing himself for that possible outcome. Loud screams and roars invaded his audials, only briefly deafened by the loud cheers of the audience.

Megatron had jumped back even before he heard the whole word and so hard that surprised even Optimus, causing their tethering to painfully stretch, enough to cause the Prime to try to grab him and stabilize him, but ending with a sudden rupture. Optimus’s cable had managed to unhook, but Megatron’s was deeply wired into his hub and was brutally ripped, causing the grey mech to bleed out a good amount of fluids.

Optimus was heavily painting, the dreadful memories still playing in his mind as a ghostly projection, still leaving a deep phantom fear that froze him for a moment, only coming to when he saw Megatron’s wire dangling from his hub port and losing fluids. He quickly looked at his companion in dread to see his face and the only thing he could hear were his vents hissing loudly as those bright red optics pierced through him. “Dee...” He took a step closer to him, feeling through their Bond as if his partner was on the edge of deeply spiraling, “please... let’s... let’s get you patched up, hm? I’m sure Sharpenclaw will fix you up nicely as always...” He was desperately trying to keep his mind away from that edge and for a second he felt the agonizingly tight pressure around his Spark loosen up as Megatron straightened up slightly, his venting more under control.

Megatron didn’t acknowledge the bleeding from his hub nor the invitation to go get patched. He simply stared at Optimus with bewildered optics and when he talked, his tone was so calm and yet contained that sent chills down his partner’s back. “Ratchet... vouches... for it?” At Optimus’ firm single nod, his vents huffed out with loud annoyance, but he seemed for a moment to be more at ease.

“Dee...?”

“I need to think.” He cut short with a grave tone, and before Optimus could say anything, he was already in the air flying fast towards the HQs.

Optimus looked at the big frame of his companion disappearing behind the tree tops, his thoughts only interrupted by a familiar soft hum of a drone-bot.

“Megs!” Twitch hovered fast Optimus’ shoulder, surprised to see the big mech leaving in such a fashion, “Optimus, where is he going? Nightshade wanted to show him their results...” With a resolute in-vent, she decided that she needed to follow him, but was immediately caught mid-air, finding herself trapped behind Optimus’ fingers, as if he had caught a fairy in flight.

“No!” He had cried, pulling her away from that desire to follow him. It was then that Twitch noticed horrified that one of his ports next to his neck was now starting to bleed and a grey cable was dangling from another.

“Optimus...?” Twitch got on her feet, gently moving his fingers to stand straight, “What’s going on? Are you alright?” She asked with a trembling voice.

He nodded, looking slightly unsure, “My dear, for the moment would be wise to not interact with Megatron.” He placed her gently on the ground, “I’ll keep your family updated,” he hurriedly transformed and was soon driving back to HQs at full speed.

Twitch too returned to her family only to find an horrified Bumblebee who just received the full update on call.

“A sparkeater...?” The name alone made her shiver.

“What is it exactly?” Nightshade asked nervously.

For a second Bumblebee didn’t even know how to answer that, how to describe a creature so feared among cybertronians, so viciously hated since ancient times that any mech would try to kill it on sight? “Let’s say... these creatures are not welcome among mechs... It’s... when a cybertronian gets changed into a-”

“A goddamn monster, that’s what it is!” Breakdown finished for him, outraged. Since he heard the news as Bee had including him in the call, he’s been sitting nervously aside, his leg bouncing up and down, but he didn’t stop himself from sharing his thoughts. “Imagine something way worse than a Scraplet invasion! Worse than a Dweller! They fed gladiators to these things down in the Pits!”

Bumblebee tried to hush him gently pushing him back to sit down placing his hands on his shoulders.

“But you just said this guy is not dangerous, that he’s tame,” Nightshade continued a bit shocked to see Breakdown so unnerved, “I’m sure your friend Ratchet means it if he’s vouching for him,”

“That’s what’s written on the report, yeah... No clue how that is even possible!” BD growled.

“I’ve known Ratchet all my life and I trust him just as much as I trust Optimus,” Bee reassured, “If he says it’s safe for everyone, I know he really means it,”

“Bee?” It was Dorothy carefully calling him as she walked closer to him, “Then why are you shaking, dear?”

There and then, it dawned on Bumblebee that she didn’t know Megatron’s full story.

Optimus rushed through the main entrance, apologizing to few workers in his way as he walked fast down the halls to the main elevator. His spark was pulsing strongly in his chest, he had to thank the Matrix for keeping it in check as he feared for Megatron. He could feel his deep distress, yet a strong auto-control as well, which still gave a small amount of reassurance. Knowing him he could bet he was down to the heavy-training level, the deepest floor of the whole structure, the most isolated and insulated room where they both had spent a very long amount of time without fearing to deal with possible damages, even more than when in the normal training room.

To reach that level he had to change elevator a few floors above it since that level was available only to the two of them. As the doors opened he dashed out, almost ramming into a group of nurses, Terrans and cybertronians, guided by none other than Dr. Sharpenclaw.

He deeply apologized as he tried to walk past them, but they were stubbornly blocking his way as they all noticed he was bleeding.

“Sir, what happened?! You need assistance!”

“You’re bleeding, Optimus, let us patch you up,”

“Please, follow us, sir!”

Sharpenclaw simply shut them all up with a loud clearing of voicebox. “Everyone, move,” He calmly demanded and every nurse promptly got out of Optimus’ way. “Please, return to your labs, I’ll be right with you in a few minutes.”

Once the path was clear and the group of mechs was going up in the elevator, Optimus nodded his thanks to the doctor and they quickly walked down the hallway.

“Please, explain, sir,”

“It’s Megatron, have you seen him?”

“No, but I’m sure the stomping we heard earlier was his.” With a swift move of his arm, he extracted a container from one of his thigh compartments, “I recognize that is his,”

Optimus unlocked the private elevator’s door and let him in while unhooking Megatron’s wire from his hub with a hand. “Please, look after it for me,” Sharpenclaw collected the object and activated the stabilizer of the container, giving it about two days of safe suspension.

The doctor’s claws though were quick to grab his shoulder as his optic enhancer stretched forward, analyzing him. “Deep rupture in the port,” then he grabbed his chin, pulling him down to look him in the left optic, “Widened outer lens, slightly cracked inner one.” He let him go and looked at his chest, “Pump overworking. Matrix actively decelerating your spark’s spinning.” He sighed, finally looking at him straight in the optics as his enhancer detracted, “Sir?”

It was only after a quick update on the situation as the private elevator flew downward that the doctor made a face.

“Well then...” His sharp features got colored with worry and anticipation. “This is a situation I wasn’t expecting to get myself into after a quick exam with my nurses,”

“I need to see he’s ok,” He was stopped the moment he had set his foot out of the door by a gentle grip.

“Optimus, forgive me, but you said he needed to think, right?”

The Prime sighed heavily, nodding, “I’ll let him have his time alone... I just want to make sure.”

Sharpenclaw raised his hands, “I’ll wait here. After all you must come to my office to get yourself patched up.”

Optimus smiled in thanks and rushed to the training room entrance, which unsurprisingly found locked. He didn’t even think to open it overriding the commands, he just stood there, reaching out for his conjunx. A single pulse of EM was all he needed an answer to and he got it after a few seconds.

“Pax,” Megs’ voice reached him through their private channel.

“Dee, if you need anything, just call me,”

“I know. Thank you.”

“I’ll return to my duties,” He sighed, “You know where to find me.” At first a bit hesitantly, he moved up his fist to the door, gently pumping the very center of it and he was eventually very happy to hear a bump hitting back from the other side.

With that, he let his EM pulse once again and walked back to the elevator where the doctor waited.

A few hours later.

Nightshade had finally taken a break from their analysis since Hashtag almost force-fed them for lunch. Despite all the very intense work, the results were inconclusive since there was no match in the given database of alien lifeforms. As it started to rain again, the scene of analysis had been dismantled and all instruments have been moved inside. All five Terran siblings were resting indoors in their bunker, Mo was on call with them as she had time before class, Robby was not present as he was having an exam, but he was constantly updated.

They all were particularly close to Twitch, who was still quite worried about Megatron. After Bumblebee had roughly told them about his excruciating long period in the Pits, none of the Maltos knew what to think about the sparkeater they knew was coming with the ship, despite being more than once reassured this character was tame, lucid and a valuable member of Ratchet’s crew. They did remain positive though, Bumblebee -despite his initial worry- reassured them Optimus had everything under control and things could only go smoothly, though Twitch was upset she couldn’t check on the mech yet. She tried to contact Optimus, but she knew he was very busy with the Representatives, so she didn’t bother him.

Thrash sat down next to her, almost literally sitting on her at first as a joke, but still offered half of his plate. She scoffed, pushed him off and gladly took a piece of the meal. It wasn’t long before everybody heard his gauntlet beeping for a message. As he noticed it was from Atlan, he eagerly read it and a smile formed on his faceplate... although he quickly realized he had all the optics of the present on him.

Hashtag leaned closer to JB, grinning and still staring at their brother, to whisper in his audial, “I bet he just got asked out,” And as the loud whirring started, everybody gasped, “HE DID?!”

“He asked me to join him for lunch! Jeeze! Chill! All of you!”

His siblings were still all swooning ohh’s and ahh’s as he drove out of the bunker... although the more he thought about an official date, the more he gave credit to his siblings. At that point he could gather the courage to give it a full try, they had shared good meals and had a lot of fun together, but he also feared that he was rushing it, maybe some more time should pass and know each other better... in any case if things didn’t go as hoped, he could say he was glad they were friends.

The weather didn’t improve as he arrived at the Academy, some deep thundering made the ground shake for long moments and the rain was still coming down heavily, but that never dulled the mood, Thrash was more than happy to join Atlan.

There was a lot of activity in the courtyard, lots of people and mechs occupying the halls and the arches, but despite the chaos, Thrash immediately spotted the red mech waiting aside one of the main doors while students trotted out in a rush. The closer he walked the more he noticed something was off, Atlan looked simply exhausted, his optics were spent and a couple of his students wished him a good rest for when he was done for the day, yet he smiled brightly when he saw Thrash and raised an arm to salute him.

“Ehy, hi,” Thrash wasn’t that sure on how to approach him, “Are you alright, man?”

Atlan had a honest chuckle and moved a hand up to his cheek as if to cover his face, “Haha, is it that noticeable? Eh... I am, I am,” He blinked surprised when the other mech transformed his shield in an umbrella, offering him to move under, “Thank you. Say... let’s go this way, there’s a good restaurant I wanted to make you try.” They moved to the side of the main buildings, on a path very few people took during lunch break, as a clear sign he wanted as much privacy as possible. Thrash obliged and said nothing as they moved, letting his friend quickly return to his words. “You were right,”

“Hm?” Thrash moved closer.

“I did call my dad last night and... eh... it’s been the hardest easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He giggled as he showed him his holo-screen with multiple chats open, “My sisters are still teasing me about it,” There were a lot of hearts in that chat, “My mom is backing up dad and dad is still reassuring me on a lot of things,” He put those away and made his backpack hop for a better position on his shoulders as they walked, “None of us had any sleep last night,” he laughed into those last words, “They made sure I knew they are proud of me beyond belief and that I have to stop being an idiot feeling guilty for things that aren’t in my control, for choices made by others or for just being what I am... He told me that both him and mom would redo all the things they did for me and my sisters over and over again if it meant to keep me safe and happy and he wasn’t afraid to underline that he’d cut relatives and friends out if they were against us.” As he spoke it was clear he was still struggling to keep tears in, but at the same time he was also trying to not laugh. He stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face him, “Thank you... Eh, really, thank you for giving me that little push I so needed,”

A big bright smile formed on Thrash’s faceplate and his vents started humming softly, barely audible under the rain, “That’s great, dude! I’m so happy to hear that! But, eh, I did nothing really...” He looked down a bit embarrassed as he felt those spent optics more and more on himself and suddenly... he felt arms wrapping tightly around his frame and over his shoulder, Atlan’s chin leaning on his other shoulder. He froze.

“You did more than you think, mate,” He gave him a good squeeze, but seeing no reaction he abruptly let go stepping back, thinking he overstepped. “Ah... sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” But Thrash was furiously blushing, now his vents really humming hot enough to make the droplets on his frame quickly turn into steam, and his smile was still big and bright. That made Atlan chuckle and understand he didn’t do any wrong in hugging him.

“No... No...” Thrash cleared his voice, “I actually really love hugs...” He squeaked tightening his grip on the umbrella, but in his usual style, he grinned with challenging optics, “May I get another one?”

Atlan actually laughed, absolutely adoring his cheekiness, “Perhaps. Only if you deserve it,”

“Ehy, worth the shot, it could have helped my poor sore shoulders.”

“Sore?” He frowned, “What did you do?”

Thrash in-vented deeply, still half smiling, “I stopped by the gym for some kick-punching as I was going home last night. You know, the kind that you gotta do for releasing some steam,” he scoffed, “I usually go when I’m frustrated, yesterday I just went there as an excuse. I needed to think. Eh, you gave me a lot to think about yesterday and good old aunt Elita gave me something good to train on,” He half-rolled both his shoulders, “Trust me if I say it’s good, not even Elita could chip that punching bag!”

“Did... it help you a bit at least?”

“It helped a lot, man! Haven’t felt this light both here,” he knocked on his arm, “and here,” he knocked on his head, “in a long while!” His chuckle spread to Atlan as well for a moment, “You listening to me yesterday also helped me a lot, soooo... thank you,” He added sweetly, leaning his head against the umbrella stick as Atlan bowed his head, very glad he too had his time for making a couple of things work out.

There’s been a moment, right there and then, that the two young mechs locked optics with one another and felt the most at ease they ever felt in their lives, both feeling a soft hum in unison as all their vents whirred softly.

“So, are you gonna take me to this restaurant or are we going to feed on rain?” Thrash asked jokingly, unable to move his optics off of him.

“Are you going to take me to the arcade tonight?” Atlan grinned.

“That was already planned, dude.”

“Then my trea-”

Both Terrans abruptly stared at each other half-shocked as a deep electric vibration caught both off-guard and a deafening loud roar echoed all around them.

“What was that?” Atlan whispered terrified.

The ground under their feet started to shake and all the people around started soon to realize too something was wrong. Some panicked and ran for cover, others remained in the open fearing an earthquake. The rain stopped just as suddenly as the sky turned pure purple with the brightest light. That was the last thing they saw before Thrash promptly pulled Atlan down to the ground under his shield.

- About an hour earlier -

- Heavy-training room, Sp. Ark. HQs -

With a thud, Megatron heavily sat down on a propped structure, his vents hissing aloud as he panted, spent, all around him the room reconstructed once again and the AI asked for what program to run as it had reached the end of its list. Getting no response, it automatically reconstructed the latest setting, a rocky battlefield in an incredibly deep canyon, the walls made out of obsidian and gems, the barely visible sky shone a dark green way above his head. The area around him was wide and covered in shiny blue veins which cracked the ground into many wounds.

With a long sigh, Megatron relaxed, automatically stretching his cannon arm and clenching-unclenching his hand since he felt it stiff. He closed his optics for a moment feeling unbelievably tired, but he felt calm in his spark, making his own progress to keep himself under control., although he wasn’t as satisfied. For the last few hours he had shut himself off the rest of the universe, wanting to deal with the news Optimus gave him on his own, which whenever he thought about it, he felt chills deep in his spark. Ancient wounds started to ache again, nightmarish scenarios vividly returned to his memory and the only thing he could do to not see those again was to keep himself physically active. His cannon was burning hot, some smoke leaked out from both ends as he rested, but he gave it no thought for the moment.

He leaned forward on his knees, head low as he huffed, but he had to quickly get back on his feet since any moment he took to breathe, those old memories caught up to him immediately, leaving him no choice other than starting shooting.

For the last few hours, his routine had been brutally a constant of short moments of peace alternating to dangerously edging forward in a crisis. The huge alien monster collected from his database once again walked in view from behind the corner of the canyon wall and again he fought against it for his life... over and over and over again, with more and more of those huge creatures programmed to destroy him appearing in the canyon and over and over again they would be pulverized by his sheer brutality for survival, despite it being only a simulation.

Megatron knelt on the ground among the carcasses and viscera of the vicious creatures, his frame crackling with electricity as he heavily hissed through all his vents to cool down and feeling more and more his cannon burning, its wires and supports digging deep and hot into his arm, painfully reminding him of it. The mouth of the weapon left a heavy mark in the ground, melting through the simulation and reaching the layers underneath the panels. Some cable and wire popped at the heat and that tile stopped properly functioning, like a burnt pixel in a screen.

He heaved himself on his feet taking a long in-vent as the system around him automatically started cooling the whole wide room down, freezing air hit his vents like a blessing. For a few minutes he remained still and kept his mind as blank as possible. Unfortunately it wasn’t long until he realized the pain in his arm and he struggled on his feet, hoping a better position would ease it. The AI read it and signaled the air conditioning system to literally crank it up to help him. Soon snow started to fall in the room, covering the floor of the canyon and the remains of the creatures. Some of those got reconstructed into scenery, others disappeared in the ground.

The cold surely helped Megatron’s arm greatly and he could rest relieved for a while. He watched the creatures disappear under camouflage and snow while around him the white veil refused to stick. He remembered well the first time he met those creatures, vicious and extremely territorial, hunted straight for the pump in cybertronians’ frames. The simulation actually did a fair job in processing the beasts, though it was still very far from reality and despite that... even the real beasts were no match for a sparkeater, they weren’t even comparable to juvenile sparkeaters. Newly transformed ones were still formidable predators although not just as precise and ferocious... And still hell to kill.

A first meeting with a sparkeater was hard to forget. And the moment one manages to kill one does not make one feel like an invincible god. And Megatron vividly remembers it. His spark slowly caught speed in his chest as fear took a tight grip.

He was no warrior, no fighter. He had been brutally taken from his home, separated from his birthplace, from his friends, from Orion... only because of his ideology of going against certain things and talking too loudly. Only because he was too close to Orion, too close to the Next-in-line Prime.

Powerful people made sure he was no longer a distraction. Many tried to make sure he was destroyed.

And he could still hear the hiss in his audials.

He was dropped into the arena with other two mechs, their hands cuffed and all three of them chained together. Annoying useless mechs, fodder for the monsters.

Megatron moved, rolled his shoulder, rubbed his face, anything to stop thinking. He could feel Orion tagging at their Bond, cautious, curious, but his presence was always welcome and reassuring.

When the gates had opened, the loud cheering of the crowd froze in a bone-chilling silence, not even their vents made any noise. The only noise Dee had caught was a soft hissing coming from the dark room behind the gate and without even having the time to realize what was staring at him, two starved juvenile sparkeaters charged at him with a speed and agility that froze him and his companions with terror. Barely cybertronians anymore if only in looks, no conscience, no rationality, no regret. The mech chained in the middle was probably the luckiest as he didn’t live long enough to admire the sick beauty of those monsters. One of the sparkeaters aimed directly at him with a ferocity that dragged the other two mechs along and broke the chain with a single swoop of claws. Dee had fallen aside, kicking on the ground to get as far as possible, not before witnessing the feast. The chest of the poor mech had been ripped open and he was still screaming when the monster bit into his spark case, pulling it out hard enough to rip all the wires connected to it. The ground around them was a mosaic of fluids which spread even wider as the creature started chewing to free the spark from its prison.

The cracking noise of the chamber being so easily demolished still haunted Megatron.

His vents were once again whirring hot as he was more frustrated each minute, driven by the pure desire to get distracted, but that task became harder within a very short time, so much so that he loudly and angrily ordered the AI to reload the scenery into the empty icy dunes of another planet and load new enemies. A creature made out of flat crystal structures appeared swimming in the glassy sand to viciously attack within a jump.

Megatron’s cannon didn’t miss a hit...

Nor it became any cooler.

His whole arm was now in a serious sharp pain, from the tip of his fingers up to his shoulder, and where the cannon gripped it burnt. The AI instantly closed all the simulations the moment it got notice of the complication, which unfortunately didn’t please Megatron one bit, leaving him in a back-lit room of grey squares.

“RELOAD THE ASSETS!” He ordered.

“Request denied. You need medical assistance, Megatron.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Do as I said.”

The mechanical head of the AI popped out from a ceiling panel and stretched down to him thanks to a long robotic arm. Its big blue eye levelly met with him. “Denied. If you continue you’ll seriously hurt yourself and I’ll be forced to physically stop you.”

That made him scoff. “You have no such power.”

“I’ll call your conjunx.” ARK dryly said, deserving of a deep glare.

“I’m not repeating myself.” The mouth of the cannon was moved up to the big eye, only a little smoke huffed out.

“The destruction of the navigator arm won’t force me to load the scenery.”

“It’ll still give me a little satisfaction.” Right as he said that, something caught his attention in the corner of his optic and an alarm rang in his head, as if he felt watched. He swore he saw a movement up the ceiling, right where it met the wall.

“If you refuse to seek medical attention, I shall refuse to load enemies.” ARK continued, “I will only load a peaceful scenery. You have fifteen minutes to call for assistance.” And it quickly retracted out of view as the room smoothly changed into a land of blue grassy hills under a starry sky with two small moons.

Megatron cursed heavily under his breath, but at the same he took a moment to rest, trying with all his might to keep his mind at bay... He sat on a prop and looked at his arm. It didn’t look good and he was incredibly grateful of the icy wind around him.

The moment the other remaining mech had been attacked, Dee knew he was dead. With all the strength he managed to gather, he ran for the wall of the arena, desperately hoping for any kind of exit, but all the panels were shut and the crowd was loudly laughing at him. He yelled at them, cursing them for their sick game, gaining all that little satisfaction he could if he had to go down right there and then.

The first sparkeater had finished its meal and was staring down at Dee, immobile at a fair distance, but as it sprinted towards him at the speed of light, the mech barely got the time to collect the chain that still dangled at one of his wrists. Miraculously that chain allowed him to live a little longer as he blindly swung it and struck the beast right in an optic.

The next thing Megatron remembered was being pushed hard to the ground and an excruciating pain right in his chest as the livid creature searched his revenge for the affront. A loud hot hiss escaped his vents as he groaned at the phantom pain around his spark case. The sparkeater’s claws had ripped his armor just as easily as if it was made of aluminium and no matter how much Dee was desperately fighting to push it off, the beast had a target and one target only. The claws were one thing, but the teeth were another...

Megatron jumped on his feet feeling unable to vent properly, his temperature rising and now his shoulder was burning like hell.

The pressure on his spark case had been the most atrocious pain he had ever felt in his entire life, the closest he had ever felt to death, and the moment he felt the pull must have triggered his most inner will of survival because that gave him a strength he didn’t know he had. Out of pure instinct he had managed to lock the beast’s neck in the chain and with the strongest push he could manage, not only he got to shove the creature off himself but he also got to pin it down. He had pulled the chain hard enough to almost completely decapitate the sparkeater.

As the thing dropped to the ground, Dee pushed himself immediately off it and in the blink of an optic the other sparkeater was over its companion, demolishing its armor to eat its entrails and the freshly harvested spark.

The whole arena had fallen silent as Dee leaned against the wall, his shaky hands keeping his spark case from falling out of his chest.

You have killed it. Fascinating.

Megatron was panting hard, his optics stuck before him on his trembling hands. Steam was pouring out of his vents, his mouth, his nostrils, highly visible in big puffs as the temperature of the room went below zero.

That voice... he heard that and recognized it wasn’t ARK. In fact, the AI was calling out for him, loudly, frantically sending an alarm to the medbay, but he heard none of what it said if not for muffled chaos. And the Bond he shared with Optimus was ringing like a guitar’s chord being violently struck.

“HE KILLED IT! HE KILLED IT! THE SPARKEATER IS DEAD!” The crowd was screaming in horror and cheering for the new gladiator, yet Dee only knew he had made his biggest mistake because after that his life turned into a painful, humiliating run for survival.

He caught a shadow moving again around him, but at that point he really couldn’t focus enough to try to identify whatever was in the room. ARK was loudly getting annoying and it only unnerved him even more.

The memories came flooding... the many times he had received painful repairs after a battle, the many times he was sold to the highest bidder, the many times he faced a sparkeater, one stronger of the latest. All the ancient scars around his spark burned with each venomous memory in a spiraling excruciating remembrance. He could feel a presence around him, analyzing him, it was heavy on him, suffocating even, so much he could feel his chest burning hot under his armor.

An alarm started blaring and the isolation protocol initialized the full containment of the guest in use of the room. ARK was trying with all its possibilities to reach for Megatron’s attention, but it cleverly moved away from him the moment he locked optics with its big one.

Red was the one color that colored his optics and was as deep and bright as ever. With the mixing of the loud huffs of steam and the now incandescence emanating from his cannon, meeting Megatron in such state could only be described as nightmarish.

Rage was building up rapidly and within each second more and more power was accumulated into the gun.

The deafening screeches of the monsters were the only thing in his audial, the slashing of their claws and the biting the only things he felt under his armor... And the deep loathing he felt for that one last patron who tried to use him as a weapon for his own political goals against the Primes...

The shadow moved again as if prompted and Megatron locked on it.

With the most rage-filled, visceral will for destruction of those memories, the howl that he emitted had no equal. A desperate war-cry that deafened even the loudest alarm, a scream so primal, so personal, so unbelievably thunderous, enough to make the room shake. The one thing that was louder than that was the explosion that came right after as the cannon fired, followed by the brightest beam of purple light.

The one Representative who was enlightening her different points of the presentation for the Landing and Quarantine sites had stopped talking and was waiting for possible questions and feedback from her colleagues. She was very pleased to deepen the topic and illustrate the many added details of the project initially given by Optimus himself and she was eager to hear from the Prime. Although Optimus seemed rather distant, he’s been so since their meeting had started.

“Sir?”

“Optimus?”

“Ehm... Optimus?

Many of the members called for his attention, only for him to embarrassingly react as he was caught worrying over his partner. He quickly apologized with the excuse he was pondering and just as quickly analyzed the changes approving them and giving feedback. Yet the hard pull at the Bond between him and Megatron was extremely distracting. Things were getting tenser and tenser and he didn’t like what he was feeling. When he started feeling more and more erratic answers to his checks, he really started to worry. When he got no answer, he bolted on his feet, scaring the Representatives, and just with perfect timing he received an emergency call from the heavy-training room AI, ARK, requesting his assistance with most urgency.

He apologized on his way out as he rushed outside, only to feel the ground shake under his wheels as he was rushing down the road. He transformed in the middle of it, fearing with all his might what was going to come. His worst fear unfortunately came true as the piercing soul-shaking howl reached him, at first through the Bond, immediately after in his audials.

Optimus suddenly clutched at his right arm, finally aware of the sharp pain his companion was afflicted by and who surely had kept it hidden from their connection.  He cursed at Megatron’s stubbornness and took a first step for returning on the road, but he froze before transforming when a pillar of light burned through the rain and dark clouds above.

The immense raw power of that tilted beam seemed to burn even the air itself, leaving behind a trail of electrifying awful sensation that bothered even Optimus with the feeling of needles puncturing hard through his armor. The released heatwave evaporated the clouds directly and the rain disappear, leaving the sky completely barren. Though what came after as the pillar exhausted its power in a crackling tail of energy whipping into the heavens had the most devastating effects for mechs, being a paralyzing shock wave that hit OP hard enough to make him curl. He felt the hard buzzing in his audials and he took a long moment to come out from a blurry vision.

As he lifted his optics to look around, he saw no power in any of the buildings in his vicinity and the few mechs, Terrans for the most part, were on the ground or kneeling, trying to fight back the short paralysis. He looked at the shocked humans nearby, “Quick! Help them and seek cover! Get away from the streets!”

An intense tower of dense smoke had started to raise and just then Optimus realized the pure silence in the Bond. That made him bolt and drive down the road as if he had fire in his spark.

Sirens of so many civil protection teams started blaring around him, but his horn was louder and way more recognizable that he immediately got priority as any firetruck, police car, ambulance moved away for him to pass first, and no officer or paramedic has ever seen Optimus ride that fast.

In one single ping, he got multiple mechs and people on his line: Bumblebee, Elita, Wheeljack, Arcee, Schloder, the Maltos’, Sharpenclaw, Shockwave, Soundwave, Starscream. Every single one of them got suddenly Optimus’ thundering order in their ear. “EVAC! EVAC! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY! EVERY LEADER TO THEIR POSTS! DO NOT ENGAGE! I REPEAT DO NOT ENGANGE! I WANT THE NEXT 20 MILE RADIUS FREE OF CIVILIANS!”

Within a few seconds, the emergency sirens started echoing in the area like terrifying cries for danger. At least, Optimus knew everyone was on the move.

And for some members of society, things were on the move even before Optimus’ order.

The moment that dreadful shrilling rage-filled cry reached the audials of all the ex-Decepticons in the area, they all knew they had to run.

One can never forget the first time they heard and felt the Howl of War.

Many of them started to have spark palpitations and others started to panic.

Starscream was one of those who froze in a rigid state of pure terror, right with his sisters. He was on the main bridge at the Nest when it happened and all around him the Terrans looked terrified and lost, the youngest hid behind his legs.

The shock wave arrived soon after the pillar of light and out of pure instinct he knelt down and curled up around those younglings to protect them, commanding loudly at the AI to pull up the shields. The wave still managed to struck, but only lightly, creating only a dizzy numbness. When he came to, he helped the younglings and his sisters up, yet holding tightly in his arms the youngest of the fliers and yelled them to run. “GET DOWN IN THE BUNKERS!” He was extremely glad there were no fliers in the sky.

The moving wasn’t the cleanest, but all the team leaders worked hard to collect their chicks and keep them safe, guiding them down chutes and lines that gave deep into the high structure and straight into the mountain’s core. The whole immense structure was silenced and deprived of energy, only the underground was kept running.

Once Starscream entered the main bunker as last, the huge door locked behind him and silence heavily dropped on him. All around him many, many bright optics looked at him full of confusion and helplessness, the smaller fliers clutching around their captains like small chicks hiding under a hen’s wings. The youngest Terran still hiding in his arm was shaking, but soon was reassured and gently placed down to join his group.

“Is everybody here?” He asked while automatically having his UI running, scanning all the face he could see. So far, he saw all his apprentices.

One of the oldest captains stepped forward, “Starscream, what’s going on?”

The big mech looked down at the young Terran and, for a moment, he remained silent. He huffed annoyed, raising his optics to all the present and raising his voice, “Get cosy because we might stay here for a little while. None of you will move until further notice,” He turned, angrily walking towards one of the many side-rooms, completely ignoring the captain’s question, who stood there utterly flabbergasted at first, moved later only by his discipline which pushed him to follow his superior’s orders. The Terran whistled loudly to get everybody’s attention and slowly the groups started getting all the necessary in the main room for being comfortable enough to stay there for some time. Sky and Nova would join them in the work, but first they wanted to check on their brother. They found him in the dark room hyperventilating.

Optimus was only a short distance away from the Headquarters and could easily see everyone was on the move. Many trucks and helicopters had been deployed and the area was forced clear from personnel. He let Schloder to his heavy work while he headed to the massive tower of smoke. With some degree of relief, he could estimate the structure was miraculously still intact as the angle of the smoke gave that the rupture was from a hole in the middle of the open fields next to the HQs. With all his spark, he still hoped nobody was hurt.

The ground got hotter and hotter under his wheels as he got closer to the smoke and when he got closer enough to estimate the damages, horror filled his soul. The crater in the ground was easily thirty meters wide and the scorched blackened ground went deep for hundreds. With all the fume in the air still heavily escaping the abyss, it was almost impossible to see through, but of one thing Optimus was sure to know that at the very bottom of that angled tunnel he was going to find Megatron. And so he descended, sliding down the vitrified surface for about two kilometers.

As he predicted, no part of the structure had been damaged if not for the very one room his companion had been for the last few hours. Even the heaviest, most resistant walls in the world could contain Megatron’s raw power...

Around half-way down the hole, smoke started to dissipate, yet the surface Optimus was sliding on got hot enough to scorch his armor and part of it was still partly liquid and vitrifying. Unfortunately he wasn’t entirely able to dodge those patches and some material glued to his arms and legs, making him hiss in pain. Optimus tried to reach for ARK, but the AI was silent.

He landed right into the huge dark room as he had predicted, welcomed only by the emergency neon strip lights and the loud blaring of the alarm. The temperature control was all over the place, he could immediately feel icy air being blown hard from a side and high heat hitting his mask. Sparkles of high tension electricity crackled aloud from broken cables and illuminated the area with small flashes.

“Dee...?” He wasn’t expecting to hear his voice trembling, but the quiet echo in their Bond made him fear the worst. Although something in the room was not right. He hardly made out the shape not too far from him in the dark, but at each careful step he took he recognized his conjunx more and more. Yet he froze when bright red optics pierced through. He tried with all his might to reach him through their Bond, remaining absolutely immobile, the only visible thing he did was removing his mask. He got no answer.

An acute building sound made the room vibrate as Megatron awkwardly straightened up, his engine actually sounding in deep distress as he moved. His optics never left the newcomer, but the emotions he showed in front of his conjunx weren’t anything comforting. Filled with primordial hate, burying with a sharp rage... Optimus was wise to stay at a distance, but he never stopped tingling at their Bond.

A worrying deep and low clang forced Optimus to look down and he was barely able to contain his own distress at the sight. Megatron’s right arm was fully engulfed in the heavily smoking weapon, the very core of the cannon pulsing with a weak light under many small panels that weren’t supposed to be so jagged and indented as they looked. He was profusely losing fluids and needed immediate medical attention. A soft sound caught Optimus’ audials, a slow dripping echoing behind Megatron... only then he noticed the abyss at his feet, a clear side-effect of the cannon as it fired behind him as well, creating a crater continuous of the one Optimus just fell through.

Having his spark pulled, Optimus dared to carefully step closer, but regretted it on the spot as Megatron heavily huffed in a cloud of dense steam as he slowly moved his arm up, his cannon aiming directly at his conjunx. He froze, for once in his life not truly knowing what to do if not waiting.

Megatron was not in the right mindset at all, talking him out of it was the only available choice despite well knowing it could be unbearably useless, but Optimus still silently waited for a while. The immobility of the grey mech was eventually starting to scare him.

“Dee... please, lower your gun...” He tried in a whisper as he thought he saw a little window of hope, his side of the Bond reverberating like in an empty chamber.

Megatron didn’t react, his expression unreadable if not for the cruel eyes, yet soon enough the awful sound of metal bending started tickling in the room and it was visibly noticeable the weight of the weapon was taking its toll on his fatigued frame. Pain started to color his features, his expression morphing slowly, showing exhaustion, fear, regret. Tears ran down his cheeks as his eyes lost their hateful vigor, pleading for Optimus’ help.

The weaponized arm heavily dropped, almost dragging Megatron down to the ground and the Bond warmed up again between the two mechs.

Optimus caught him before he hit the ground and held him for dear life, kneeling down and holding his head in his hands, crest pressed hard against helm. “I have you, Dee, I have you...” He gasped as his vents failed to breath in for a moment and tears too started to line his cheeks, “I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”

Medics were quickly summoned, good old loyal Sharpenclaw was on his way with his team.

Optimus carefully pulled Megatron’s away from the crater to have him under the cold rain of a sprinkle still working and laid him down, cupping his cheek. The realization of how much things had gone wrong hit him hard and for the sake of everyone, especially his conjunx’s mental and physical health, Echo the sparkeater was not to land for the imminent future.

Chapter Text

On the news it was a constant showing of the abyss that opened right next to Sp.Ark. HQs. Only one helicopter was allowed to circle above, way high in the air to avoid the smoke, and the human reporter was giving live feed about the situation. Optimus Prime’s order had been followed with the area fully evacuated and all inhabitants had been distributed to the main five Villages outside the 20 mile radius. The reporter warmly thanked all the people and mechs who helped in making it clean, quick and smooth.

Chief Schloder was keeping people updated when he could, but gave no details about the accident, making it look like he was waiting himself for further instructions.

The Seeker Nest was radio silent.

So were Optimus and Megatron.

No other accidents had occurred.

The studio gave the line to their other reports sent to the Villages to collected witnesses and interviews. Many among humans and Terrans were worried, but rather positive, there were very rare occasions of people not liking mechs giving their mouths nasty air and they were often cut off.

Dorothy and Twitch collected a couple of trays of teas and water bottles from the serving lady and walked back to their family. They’ve been staying in a big hall with about other fifty people -half of them were Terrans- for about a couple of hours. All Terrans had felt the wave and some of the youngest were still a bit shaky. Twitch made a good, warming job in reassuring them and bringing them some treats and nice encouraging words. One in particular was unable to stand up and his single mom was sitting next to him holding his hand. He was awake and rather cheerful too, but too weak to walk. A few Terrans shared their Quintex to make him feel better.

Another Terran who felt it quite badly was Nightshade. They were sitting on a stretcher next to Alex, who gently placed a warm blanket around their shoulders, careful to not cover their vents. A nurse had taken turns in checking every mech in the room, even Bumblebee and Breakdown, the only cybertronians present, and had stopped longer with the owl-bot seeing them wearing the cast.  It seemed that Nightshade had been more sensible than others to the wave’s effects, yet the nurse reassured they could continue taking their meds and simply have a good rest to go back in shape. Their siblings were the first to share their Quintex, allowing them to regain a good amount of strength.

JB got himself a couple of bottles and trotted to his sister Hashtag, offering one to her. Since the event occurred they were both bombarded online by friends and fans of their little show with messages of hope they were alright. Not wanting to be annoying or disrespectful to any of the people around them, instead of going loudly online with a video, they took a close selfie and reassured everyone on their social media that nobody got hurt, they had followed the evac order and they were just waiting. They sure received a lot of warm, nice comments. Hashtag, though, was a bit tense and JB saw her trying to get in contact with Starscream again. He sweetly bonked his head against her, telling her to not worry, the big bot was old enough to take care of himself, his sisters and all his fliers. She had snorted, jokingly saying that was why she was worried.

Thrash, though, wasn’t with them, but they quickly managed to get in touch with him, which highly reassured the whole family. He and Atlan had been moved to a Village up north, the others in the west. They were fine.

“Stay down, dude. Why you want to run?” Thrash chuckled as he readjusted the pack of ice over Atlan’s forehead. The other mech was laying on a stretcher, his system had started slowly overheating after the wave as a little side effect (he wasn’t the only Terran to have had that reaction) and was quickly taken care by a nurse, given fluids and something icy to drink. He had to thank Thrash’s quick thinking as he had pulled him under his shield or he could have had a worse reaction.

The speed in which Thrash moved as he had felt something odd in the air right before the wave had been admirable. He still wished he had been more gentle, but his harsh pulling his friend down under his cover was necessary. Atlan’s shoulder still ached, but they were honestly laughing about it.

“I might need a cast like Nightshade,”

“Shuddup, man!”

Atlan had gotten a couple of urgent calls as he had arrived, his family immediately had wanted to hear from him as they saw the news. Thrash had given him privacy as he went to get something from the serving young lad on the other side of the hall and upon returning, Atlan told him his family thanked him dearly.

“Why...?” Thrash was honestly confused.

Atlan snorted, “Don’t give me that dumb look, if it wasn’t for you I’d be in a much worse shape.”

Thrash was the first to come to and despite seeing the world shake more than he felt it under his feet, he forced himself up, pulling Atlan up too and quickly took the role of the evac-guide alongside a cybertronian guy who was in the Academy. As Optimus’ order rolled into his line, things got more serious and every student and staff got gathered outside of the main structure to specific spots and eventually properly evacuated towards the other Villages. Thrash had not left Atlan’s side not even for a moment, he kept him tightly close even after one of the many ambulances collected him.

“I-I just did what was needed...” He couldn’t hide his whirring not even if he wanted to and Atlan listened closely as if he was listening to the best sound in the universe.

“It’s well known that holding someone’s hand in the ambulance is  a very important strategy for survival.” He joked and that made the other Terran burn up even more. “Hehe, thank you for real though, I could barely understand where was up and down. I’ve never seen someone move the way you did, fast, precise, brave while everyone else was panicking. If that isn’t impressive, I don’t know what is.”

“I, uh, learned a thing or two from past battles I guess,”

“I’m bowled over,” He grinned, peeking from under the ice bag, which Thrash promptly picked up and dropped it over his face.

“Would you cut this mushy bullcrap out? We’re in public,”

They both had a good laugh and waited out for all of their vents to stop fanning hot. Thrash eventually left a moment to call his family again, wanting to know if they had any news.

Now he sat next to Atlan.

“I need to stretch...” The red Terran grumbled, rubbing his face.

“The roads aren’t gonna run away, dude,”

“Don’t get sassy with me,” He grinned under the ice bag.

“Mhm, someone needs a snack,” Thrash held out a little packed treat, dangling it in front of his nose, which Atlan grabbed.

“Ehy, we both skipped lunch, of course I’m starving,”

“Gives us one more reason to go out again,”

“Ah, now you’re getting cheeky,”

“It’s something I do, yes,” He proudly admitted and gasped as Atlan playfully slapped his arm.

“...You know I’d love that.” It was Atlan’s turn to be cheeky and the two bots comfortably -yet in a bit silly way- looked at each other in mutual understanding.

The news were giving updates every 20-30 minutes or so, but for the moment nothing new had came out and Optimus Prime had only given a response to Schloder to give the reporters, that the situation was under control, but the emergency level was not to be lifted yet.

“What you think had happened?”Atlan asked, finally sitting up. He felt much better, but still a bit wobbly.

Thrash shook his head, “No idea, but if OP ordered the evacuation it must be big.”

Optimus had held Megatron’s head up as Sharpenclaw moved the small device under him and let it expand to be a big enough stretcher for his Conjunx to be moved. Something that he really wasn’t expecting was the shock in the doctor’s optics as he had given only a quick look at Megatron’s arm. Only that made the doctor yell into his interline for CODE: RED. The two medics accompanying him were the only ones who volunteered, the rest of the staff was way too scared to get any closer to the hot zone, especially after hearing Megatron’s piercing soul-shattering howl. The medbay had been emptied from any patient and their curing nurses and medics, keeping only the higher-leveled members of the staff under OP’s order, although he didn’t force who was too uncomfortable to stay as long as they helped in the evac. Only a dozen staff members remained and it was more than enough.

Megatron was awake, but barely noticing what was happening around him, his optics spent and vague, but still looking for Optimus.

His right arm was in a horrible pitiful state and Sharpenclaw was quickly temporarily clogging and cauterizing every big opening he could find to stop any leaking while the hovering stretcher was pushed into the elevator. The weapon was still burning hot, enough to fog the panels on the walls, and the way it had literally brutally engulfed the whole arm, the shoulder and part of the chest with pulsing wires and fragmented scale-looking panels made Optimus’ spark spin wrong.

So far Megatron had lost an outrage amount of fluids and needed an urgent transfer. Out of pure instinct, Optimus exposed his own spark chamber and snatched the thick wire from one of the medics’ hands, plugged himself with it as Sharpenclaw forcefully exposed Megatron’s to connect the two mechs.

“Slow and small amounts,” He ordered the Prime, “We don’t want you to fall on the ground.”

The force Megatron’s frame called for fluids with was immense and almost made Optimus trip on his own feet by the shock, but he knew well how to handle him and he kept the flow as was told, also keeping the pace steady until they were in the medbay.

Megatron was quickly wired to energon reserves and a huge amount of coolant started flowing in his system. To make it quicker and steadier, Sharpenclaw opted for an old-school move and simply poured a whole basin of coolant over the weapon, making it messy and drippy, but it worked way faster than expected. The cleaning and fanning systems of the room were working at full operational speed. Once his fluids were stabilized, Optimus was carefully detached and a couple of medics forced him to sit to be medicated, his armor was heavily damaged by the vetrifying substance and he risked to contract a nasty infection.

Seeing him more stable, Sharpenclaw moved to the second healing phase, Megatron’s levels were high enough for him to be sedated without danger of him going in shock and the doctors would have an easier time working on the arm.

But the doctor immediately regretted it as he pulled down the wired syringe from the structure above.

The whole staff gasped in fear, some screamed at the crunching noise, jumping away from the patient. Optimus was quick on his feet.

Against any prediction, Megatron had caught in his right wounded hand Sharpenclaw’s right arm into a demolishing grip the moment the doctor approached him with the sedative input. His optics burned red with hate.

Containing himself with an iron will, Sharpenclaw froze, keeping his stance as non threatening as possible, not touching his patient or pulling away at all. His face was an astonishing mask of controlled pain and with a glance at Optimus, he silently asked for his help. “Sir... please... let go of my arm...” He winced as the pain started to burn.

Optimus ever so carefully moved in his conjunx’s sight, but he was surprisingly ignored, the red optics stuck on the syringe Sharpenclaw stubbornly and surprisingly still held. “Please... let the doctor work, Megatron,”

The doctor suddenly contained a scream as the vice tightened and more fluids fell to the floor.

“Dee!” Optimus didn’t raise his voice, but his tone delivered the highest urgency, “You’re hurting him. Let him go.”

For a brief moment Megatron seemed to focus on him and he visibly calmed down, but didn’t let go yet, only stopped tightening his grip. “I won’t... see them...” He growled in a low voice.

Optimus didn’t seem to understand, but Sharpenclaw was quick to connect the events and dared to say something, hoping he had got it right. “You won’t dream, Megatron...” His whole frame was trembling due to the pain, yet what he said seemed the very right thing and the grip softened. “You have my word, you won’t dream. You will not see anything until you wake up.” He looked straight into those furious optics and after what seemed an eternity, the red dimmed down and the patient painstakingly opened his hand. The relieved gasp the medic emitted was almost ethereal to everyone’s audials and his coworkers quickly were to aid him, but Sharpenclaw glared at them to stand back. Keeping his wounded arm close to his abdomen, Sharpenclaw snatched the syringe in his other hand and carefully approached the patient, whose optics never left him. Seeing he was granted to continue, the doctor finally sedated him and stepped back to be medicated, heavily dropping on the closest chair.

Optimus was trying to contain his deep venting as he saw Megatron slowly closing his optics. A hand of his was against his neck and gently cupped his cheek as the wounded mech sighed into recharge, leaning against his palm. Once sedated, Optimus straightened up and looked at the doctor, “Sharpen-”

“I’m not dying yet.” The doctor abruptly cut him off while his coworker analyzed the damage on his arm. “Now sit back down and let Macrogram patch you up, for frag’s sake...” He groaned in pain as he was barely touched and another medic quickly approached him with a syringe. “Give me that,” He angrily snatched it from him and injected himself right in the joint of his shoulder, then rubbed it to make the painkiller have a quicker effect. He seemed more relaxed within only a few seconds. “<Lord almighty...>” He mumbled in some kind of relief, his cybertronian tongue surfacing as he talked, “<Primus, if you are up there, you’re a fucking prick...>” The other medics scoffed or tried to contain a giggle as their boss leaned back in an half-drugged state.

Optimus was fixed relatively quickly, with a lot of parts of his armor removed and covered with healing patches. He’ll get properly reshaped in a few days. As Macrogram worked on him, he couldn’t stop looking at Megatron, who silently laid on the operating table. Sharpenclaw was out of service, so his second in command took the lead on the operation and a thorough analyses began. Once the patching on Optimus was done, he was kindly asked to leave the room. He was given a good supply of enriched energon and guided out, but the worry in his optics was way too obvious.

“He’s in good hands, sir,” Macrogram offered.

“I know,” Optimus nodded. “Just... call me as soon as possible. Keep me updated.”

The doctor solemnly nodded as well, “I’ll do it myself,” He excused himself and returned into the room leaving Optimus alone in the corridor.

Optimus’ spark wasn’t still spinning right in his chest, the deep fear he felt seeing his conjunx in such a state really struck him in his core. Even after everything they both went through in the unimaginable amount of time they shared in so many different ways... that view down in the training room really scared him...

He allowed his frame to drop on one of the benches, taking deep in-vents and focusing on their Bond. He could feel him, he was peaceful in his dreamless sleep, at ease, but felt no emotion which was honestly not surprising. He selfishly rested a moment to listen to Dee’s spark...

I apologize.

A chilling voice crept into his audials startling him. He quickly looked up only to be met by a close-up of a sort long muzzle with a pointy chin. The creature was big, reptilian like with smooth scaly dark-blue skin. A pointy head supported by a sinuous long neck directly stretched out from the wall, its shoulders barely peeking through, as if it was fused into it. No horns, no protuberances, no eyes. Part of its body seemed blurry at sight.

Optimus froze having not heard nor felt anything at all that would alert him of the creature’s presence. Automatically he scanned the creature and tried to compare it with any life form in his archive. He found no match.

The creature remained unnaturally immobile, waiting for Optimus.

“...What?”

About your Conjunx endurae.

Hearing that, caught him off-guard and he was now fully focusing on the creature. The way how dry and almost emotionless the creature was made the mech uneasy. Despite that, he somehow didn’t feel in danger. “Why are you apologizing? Who are you?”

My presence in the training room may have not been the wisest thing. I’m an observer. I’m a researcher. The mind of your Conjunx endurae fascinated me, his memories intrigued me, but I got too close. I wasn’t expecting such a chain reaction of chaos.

I saw him getting lost in terror, unable to stabilize himself. He sank.

The moment he locked on me, I moved so to cause the least amount of damages possible in the area.

Optimus listened closely, not really grasping the moment nor the creature’s words. He took a long moment to rationalize and the creature remained immobile. “What... have you done to him?” A hint of anger couldn’t be contained in his tone.

Nothing. I only observed. He spotted me.

He was dealing with his own memories and for hours he kept trying to subdue the most painful ones. He failed.

Thinking back about the numerous times he felt Megatron through their Bond constantly being on the edge and back to keeping himself in check, Optimus actually believed the creature... and guilt tightened around his spark. He should have stayed close to him... but at the same time he felt like an event like the one just occurred would have eventually happened and maybe this one was the safest one.

“You’re a visitor,”

The big head slowly nodded.

My brother, our niece and I do not wish to cause any harm.

We will help where we can, if we can.

Optimus got on his feet, standing proud, “I’m Optimus Prime, Representative of Cybertronians on Earth.” Having just heard the creature talking about Megatron as his conjunx probably meant he didn’t need any presentation, but still felt obliged to do so.

The human name assigned to me is Lewis.

We know who you are. All of you.

My niece is excitedly looking forward to meeting you.

Optimus had to admit to himself he felt slightly uncomfortable by the fact the creature so openly admitted he and his kin knew him, but he could also bet it was mostly due to the visitor’s cold, detached tone. “I’m looking forward to meeting your clan as well, hopefully in better circumstances,”

We shall assist you in rebuilding the structure. I shall bring you all the needed materials myself. Two days.

“I... uh... thank you. I’ll have my engineers and builders ready. And I’ll have a talk with agent Schloder about your compensation.”

Lewis tilted his head slightly to his right.

I seek no reward. Two days.

My best healing wishes to both you and your Conjunx endurae.

And just like that, Optimus was alone again in the corridor, Lewis simply vanished from his sight as if he had never existed, feeling incredibly confused and with a heavy headache that made him wonder if he had imagined everything in the first place.

- On the Quantum Leaper -

Just as Brainstom and Perceptor had predicted, the quantum leakage had still lingering effects on time on the ship’s perspective and after some incredible and extremely complex calculation and collected data, they had quite the results. The ship was still far away from Earth, but they had managed to capture the Solar System on their radars and had a good base of the time passing. It often looked like time itself was glitching, showing things moving very slowly, staying still, or going forward at abnormal speed. The couple was 99,99% sure that on Earth it’s been only 12 hours when for them had been 49,5 cumulatively. Yet things seemed to be stabilizing more and more as the quantum tank had been overly secured even more, tagged and prepared for being left behind in a very precise spot in the space map for future retrieval, just as ordered. All engineers overworked themselves to have even the minimal detail to perfectly work. A thorough cleaning had been ordered by Ratchet and Brainstorm was sure all the possible residue had been collected and isolated.

The release of the tank was a little event none onboard missed. It was even streamed on the main bridge for everyone to witness it and every mech saluted it as if it was a honorary crew member having a sort of a funeral after serving their cause for such a long time. Although it was mostly an excuse for the crew to have a little celebration and engex started to flow in its honor and musicians collected at the center of the room starting with an honorary march. It was dropped a moment before the end and they let the rhythm go skyhigh.

Ratchet, for obvious reasons, couldn’t even touch a drop of engex and he had honestly missed having a glass... He still sat at his usual table admiring the crew members and the civilians having a really good time. The dining hall was a cheerful cacophony of joy of a journey coming to its end, finally signing the end of a chapter to the start of a new very important one on Earth. He sat there looking very comfortable, almost sleepy.

Drift smoothly walked up to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. The doctor turned his head up and the two mechs shared a warm smile. “You look tired,”

“Nonsense,” Ratchet scoffed, still half smiling.

“Eh. Want something to drink?”

“Would kill for a Cleansyrex.”

“Ah, yes, the forbidden juice. Who wouldn’t?” Drift laughed and kissed the top of his companion’s head before sitting down. “Nothing at all?”

“Maybe in a bit.” He sighed and rested his head on his shoulder, “For now I just want your company,”

Drift sighed relieved and reached out for Ratchet’s hand, entwining their fingers, “Even in public?”

“This time, I don’t give a damn,” He squeezed his hand and both remained silent observing the many mechs having fun on the level below.

Among the crowd, they quickly spotted Cee and Quasar talking near the wall on the right. They’d been finally showing off their true colors, literally speaking. After their last meeting both Cee and Quasar had a nice renewal of paint, removing those stupid miner disguises that fooled no one.

Cee’s new look fully respected the standard medical code, mostly white, red gauntlets with simple white lines of the doctor insignia, a red and orange helmet with his three-point crest white, his inner rims and joints both grey and orange, his faceplate a cleaner grey, bright blue optics. His alt-mode was still a vehicle with round edges, perfect for moving patients.

Quasar, on the other hand was almost fully dark grey with rare blue details but his joints pure black. His one audial long antennae shone in bright orange at the left of his black helmet, just as his intelligent optics. His alt-mode being a jet, he showed sharper yet heavier features and small folded wings low on his back.

“I’m surprised to see them there,” Ratchet said.

“Same. I’m glad they’re getting more comfortable around. By the way, did Aid tell you about Cee?”

“That he’s a very good medic?”

“Ha! No, that he’s so scrupulous and precise in everything he does that he’d put you to shame,”

“Now then. Do I have a little rival, hm?”

“That’s a possibility,”

“I’ll test it myself eventually,”

Drift chuckled, “Of course you will,”

“What about Quasar? Any input Nautica hasn’t shared with me?”

“Nah, she told you everything. She wishes she had a brilliant pupil like him much sooner,”

“Do you think they are a couple?” Ratchet asked after a short silence.

“I was wondering the same. They look like it, honestly.”

“Hmm... more like at the beginning of a relationship.”

“Yeah, I see that. They look cute.”

“Mhm.”

“Here, it’ll calm your circuits,” Quasar brought a glass to Cee, who took it deeply frowning.

The other mech took a quick sniff and recoiled, “More like fry my circuits... The hell is it?”

“No idea, but it tastes good,”

Cee gave him a look after noticing the mark of lips on the glass, “Did you take a sip from my drink?”

“Just try it,” He said, exasperated, crossing his arms.

The young medic sighed and had a taste, but shivered for how strong it was. “It’s good... but too strong for me,”

Quasar took the glass back and had a good gulp, taking a long in-vent after. “Want something else?” Cee shook his head and leaned against the wall, looking uncomfortable. “Cee...”

“I know, I know... I’m trying...”

“You can’t keep this up for long...”

“I said I know! I just can’t...” Cee took a deep, refreshing in-vent and casually looked around, but his optics went automatically to the higher level where Drift and Ratchet sat. He quickly averted his optics, “Shit, they are looking at us...”

“So? Let them,”

“Well, it’s awkward...”

Quasar finished the drink and rolled his optics.

Cee huffed annoyed and sighed deeply, “You know what? I do need a drink. Where did you get that?”

His companion scoffed in a smile and took his hand, “Come,” He guided him through the compact dancing crowd, snaking his way through trying to not bother anyone, but cursed aloud when a mech accidentally stepped on his foot, scaring him.

Not too far from them, the tall frame of Echo sinuously moved around in his usual-unusual way of moving, a bit hunched over, but with optics incredibly alert. Every single mech was by now used to his ways and made room for him to pass. He too was heading towards the bar.

As Quasar and Cee reached the bar, they were greeted by the bartender, a small guy with four arms, a “cocktail master” as he had named himself. “Came for a refill, kid?”

“Actually no, it’s for him,” Quasar tilted his head to Cee.

“Do you have something similar, but just not as strong?”

“Mhm. What about a Lightbringer?” He showed Cee the menu and the young medic seemed convinced.

“No, no, no, Darkbrew, what’s that preposterous suggestion?! The kid should try the Velvety, he looks like someone with some taste in life,” It was Knock Out elegantly sitting right at their left, gingerly holding a tall glass of a red looking engex, with a pink foam on top and two bright small blue cubes balanced on the rim. At his left the ever-present big frame of his conjunx Breakdown having what looked more like a rustic style drink.

“You heard the expert,” Darkbrew showed Cee the Velvety’s ingredients and the young mech actually seemed to preferred it. He also noticed it was the very same drink Knock Out was having.

“Good doctors deserve good treats,” Knock Out winked at Cee, “Amazing work today by the way, darling, even Ambulon was impressed.” The red mech was mostly for frame-reworking and remodeling, but he was still a doctor for all intents and purposes and still worked at the medbay, just as much as Breakdown was a nurse-in-training. The bigger framed mech waved at the younglings, yet he didn’t look comfortable.

Cee bowed his head in thanks and sat as well, copied by his friend. “I just followed the procedures.”

“Indeed, but your style is impressive, reminds me of Ratchet’s.”

The young mech awkwardly cleared his voice-box, “How so?”

Knock Out grinned, his middle claw slowly running back and forth on the edge of his glass, “Clean speed and organization, and you’re very scrupulous of the smaller details. I believe it should be a quality all doctors should have, but alas it’s not a perfect world. By any chance, were you trained by Ratchet in your time?”

Cee almost choked on the first sip of his drink, “N-No!” He answered a bit too fast and loud, making Knock Out arch a brow, “I wish though, he was an amazing surgeon in my time too,”

“...was?” Knock Out’s attention was sharply directed on his conjunx, who laid a hand on his arm, he didn’t look that well at all. “Still hurting? Let’s get you to berth,” The red surgeon hurriedly stood up and excused himself and BD, “Forgive us, darlings, but Breakdown has not feeling well in the last couple of (days), we should have stayed in our room...” He helped the big guy standing straight and wished the young mechs a nice continuation as he carefully guided BD out of the hall.

“Hm, Knock Out and Breakdown are leaving. BD doesn’t look well,” Drift pointed.

“Breakdown has been feeling an odd ringing in his audial lately, but First Aid checked him and found nothing. He still gave him some supplements.”

“Look at Echo over there,” the sparkeater stood tall at the very end of the counter, his red optics glued to the blue big-framed mech, “Is he... following him?”

Ratchet sat up straight, wanting to look better at the crowd. “He’s not moving though,”

“Wait... look at his audials,”

“He’s after something,”

“Should we call him?”

Ratchet shook his head, “Let him search, he’ll report.”

Cee pinched hard the bridge of his nose, cursing in an old dialect and Quasar squeezed his shoulder.

“Let’s leave, Cee,” He warmly offered, but the young doctor shook his head. Cee finished in silence his drink, looking deep in thought and the more he waited, the more frustrated he seemed. “Cee...”

He slowly turned around to look up at the leading couple of the ship, high in their raised table, then turned to Darkbrew. “Could you give me something to bring the captain and his partner?”

“Coming right up!”

“What are you doing now?” Quasar sighed.

“Just... let me have this... please?”

Quasar rolled his optics and rubbed his companion’s back. “Maybe that Velvety thing calmed your circuits a bit too much,” He said, sneering the name of the drink out. “Alright, let’s go.”

Cee collected the two glasses and Quasar led the way through the crowd so to have nobody bumping into his partner. Within his sight though, Quasar spotted Echo moving closer until he was directly at their side. Despite being their guardian, the two mech weren’t fully used to his way of moving and they seemed a bit spooked.

“Echo... hi,”

The tall mech bowed his head to them with a smile. His pupils were thin and audials had small antennae peeking straight out, slightly trembling. He had Quasar in his sight and didn’t move his optics off him, “Are you alright?”

The grey jet-bot deeply frowned, “Yeah...? Why you ask?”

Echo’s head tilted, but eventually stepped back, looking more relaxed, but the younger mech was still looking at him weird. “Hm, thought I felt something. Never mind, sorry. I’ll leave you two to the good music. Have a drink for me too,” He smiled and headed straight towards the main exit.

Cee and Quasar looked at each other confused, Echo had never acted like that around them.

“He must be drunk,” Quasar scoffed and continued towards the captain’s table.

They could feel optics on themselves as they moved and indeed the leading couple was surprised to see them approach, but at the same time very pleased. “Good(evening), sir, we... brought you something.”

“Oh my, thank you,” Drift cheerfully invited them to sit, but he quickly covered Ratchet’s glass with a hand, “No engex in this, I hope?”

“Oh, no no, of course not! Darkbrew knew what to prepare,” Cee almost panicked, but relaxed seeing both Drift and Ratchet chuckle.

“Very thoughtful, much appreciated,” Ratchet gladly took his big drink while Drift enjoyed his extra dry, bubbly engex. “What brings you here?” He asked, half-smirking.

Quasar remained as stoic as his usual, while Cee seemed lost for a moment.

“I... saw you not celebrating... just thought to bring you something to celebrate with,”

“What about you?” Drift asked, “You have nothing to toast with us,” Cee was quick to stand up again, even Quasar looked at him with a worried frown, “Ehy, kid, relax, we won’t bite,”

“I... I know... just wanted to make sure you were ok, I’ll let you continue your... things.” He awkwardly made to move away, but Quasar grabbed his wrist, giving him an angry look.

Drift deeply frowned and sent a quick glance at Ratchet, who had no idea how to react. “Wait, has something happened? Is it because of something that Echo said? We saw you talk to him down there,”

Quasar forcefully pulled his companion back to sit down and stop being rude, but only got a glare back. “No, no, he was simply checking on us.”

“I’m glad to hear he’s been treating you well,” Ratchet tried to have a little conversation going.

“He’s very diligent and helpful, we cannot complain about his presence,” Quasar reassured.

Drift snorted, “Even when he looks like he’s ready to bite?”

“He never did that,” The jet-bot scoffed, half grinning.

“Happy to hear he doesn’t scare you,”

“Nah, he’s very nice.” Quasar looked at Cee, raising a brow, as if wanting to prompt him to just chat a bit, but Cee was not paying much attention. He kicked his leg right away, making him jolt.

Ratchet bit his lips, in-venting, “Listen, boys... Is there.... is there something we can help you with? I’m sure you didn’t join us just for talking about Echo,”

Cee suddenly bolted and ran down the few steps, walking fast into the crowd, leaving the other three mechs stunned, including Quasar. The leading couple looked at the remaining young bot, perplexed.

“...Something I said?” Ratchet almost whispered.

Quasar rubbed his optics and took a long in-vent, “Not at all, sir... He’s... uh... still dealing with an important loss in his life, we both are, but he’s particularly struggling. He doesn’t mean to be rude to you, you two just remind him a lot of someone and he’s been thinking that maybe talking to you might help him out on a spiritual level.”

“... Is he a Spectralist?”

“Hmm, not in the true meaning of it. Honestly I cannot be sure it has the same meaning that it had in our reality,”

Drift looked at Ratchet, sharing the same sentiment of compassion towards their young friend. “I’m not sure if I might be able to help, but I can talk to him.” He said to Quasar, but quickly turned again towards Ratchet as he felt his hand on his.

“Forgive me if I won’t join you, but I’m quite exhausted,”

“No need to, sir, you do look tired. It’s more than understandable,”

Drift gave his partner a quick peck on the cheek, “Want me to accompany you first?”

“No, no, go, I can still walk,” He groaned getting on his feet.

Quasar stood up too, almost at attention, “I can accompany you to your room, sir.”

Ratchet smiled at him, “Appreciated, but are you sure you don’t want to go with Drift after your companion?”

The jet-bot seemed to sigh as he looked down at the crowd searching for Cee, “As much as I’d love to be at his side, right now he’d be pushing me away and I don’t know how to help him...”

Drift squeezed his shoulder, “I’ll go after him,” he then smirked at Ratchet, “Don’t get lost, uh,” He winked.

“You wish,” He raised his chin at him, scoffing and Drift was off. Taking a moment to study Quasar’s body language, Ratchet well understood how helpless the young one must be feeling, “It can happen sometimes to feel rather powerless in a relationship, it’s quite normal,”

Quasar’s fingers were fidgeting behind his back, “I should go after him, but I’m terrified to make it worse...” He was still staring at the crowd.

“That’s normal to think too. If you think Drift might be of some help, maybe just leave them for this time, give him some space.”

The youngling turned to him, nodding after a moment of thought, “I might join them after taking you to your quarters, sir,”

Ratchet chuckled, “You don’t really have to do that, soldier, I can go on my own,”

“I hope you don’t mind me insisting, I... I need to stretch my legs.”

“Very well. This way,” Ratchet finished his drink and guided him through the back corridor only staff was allowed to use. “How long have you been together?” He dared to ask a couple of minutes later.

“Almost (2 years),” He absentmindedly answered, walking next to him. “We grew up together.”

“And things naturally pivoted towards a relationship, didn’t they?”

“Eh, yes.”

“Was it a nice sparklinghood?”

“Yes,” Quasar smiled a bit, “We both had a very comfortable and rich upbringing.”

“That’s quite nice to hear, here something of the sort has been impossible for a very, very long time,” Right there, he caught Quasar’s very quick glance at his abdomen, which made him smile, “I might be the first to bring it back after all.”

Quasar fell silent for a moment, “Have you chosen a name?”

“Crux,” Ratchet said proudly, but noticed a certain discomfort in the young mech, “Is it such a bad name to you?” He joked.

“Oh, no, no... It’s a good name. In my reality it’s an ancient name. I like it.”

Within a couple of turns they’d have reached Ratchet’s quarters.

“You walk like a guard,”

“What?”

“Eh, have you gone through a military path?”

“I... yeah, I’ve been part of the Archive Guards in the Capital for a short time,”

“Why that <short>?”

Quasar groaned in a huff, “My leader didn’t appreciate me,”

“I see,” Ratchet had to hide his half smile, he could only guess it was due to the short temper he had shown in a few occasions already. “Who knows, maybe on Earth you might reenter an unit and find yourself comfortable if for some reason you don’t want to continue the path of engineering.”

“I... don’t see myself going back to the militia. So far I feel very comfortable around Nautica and Skids is a nice fellow to be with.”

“That pleases me, once we land we have an enormous amount of work to do.” He finally got to his door and unlocked it by a simple touch, it wooshed open. “Thank you for escorting me, kid, for returning to the main corridor just continue down this way and keep the left, impossible to miss.” At that, Quasar nodded, although he was looking a bit down and Ratchet noticed it. He gently placed a hand on his shoulder, “You can always come to either me or Drift for talking, you have my word we’ll try our best to help you out,”

Quasar bowed in thanks, “I wish it was my place to tell you what Cee is going through... it’ll make it so much easier, trust me on that,”

Ratchet tilted his head, not fully understanding, “Will we come to know it?”

And the youngling’s answer came naturally and fast, “Yes, sir. I’m sure of it,”

“I see... I still hope your companion will feel much better for a while,”

“Better if I go check on him, sometimes I cannot leave him alone for too long.”

“Go, go. And keep us updated if you ever need anything,”

Quasar nodded thanking him again and wishing him a good rest, before heading back to the dining hall where he could bet Cee was getting drunk out of his mind. Right around the corner he just walked through, with his ever vigil optics and extra-keen senses, Echo stared.

Ratchet had not closed the door when he entered and he could see his tall frame. He waited until the sparkeater was standing right in front of him.

“Something is not right, Ratchet.” The captain quickly let him in his room and locked the door.

Meanwhile, being for once alone and taking a rare break from the laboratory activities, someone had in mind to share a different kind of activity, something on the line of romantic and tender.

Brainstorm served a couple of tall glasses with aromatic engex, the kind he knew Perceptor loved, and passed him one in change of a warm peck on the lips. Neither of them liked being around big crowds and preferred listening to the hums of engines or and clink-clanking of Brainstorm’s oddest inventions instead of live, loud music. The closeness of each other was something both scientists really deeply treasured, even when not intimate, and whenever they were allowed to, they sat close to one another in admiration.

Perceptor sat on a switched off console, one leg overlapped over the other and glass in one hand, his vents humming warmly for his partner, who stood in front of him, pressed against him with one arm around his frame. He could feel his hand caressing his lower back with affection and noticed the other hand gingerly aiming for his monocle. He let Brainstorm steal it and wear it in exchange for a research-useful cuddle, so the cyan mech kissed his forehead and pressed his cheek on that very spot. A moment of peace just like that was incredibly rare and they fully basked in it as they both tilted their heads and searched for each other’s lips...

Their noses had barely brushed together as Perceptor’s emergency line rang as Echo called signing Ratchet as listening-in. After a loud exasperated sigh, Perceptor answered, signing Brainstorm as listening-in as well. “Echo?......... WHAT?!”

Back on Earth, Bumblebee was still waiting to hear from Optimus, but he had managed to get in touch with every other mech leader, even Starscream, getting the latest updates. He had left Breakdown with the Maltos for only a moment, when he noticed the mech was sitting by himself, which he found a bit odd. He also noticed he was uncomfortable through their Bond.

“You ok?”

“My audial burns... I don’t understand why...”

Chapter Text

Broken

The decision took thoughtful consideration, but a partial return of civilians had been allowed after Schloder confirmed with Optimus that the emergency status could be lifted. Schloder had been thoroughly informed on the situation and it was decided that the event being caused by Megatron had not to be public knowledge, at least not just yet. The cause of the explosion would have to be investigated and no further information would be shared in the imminent future until things would be clearer. Schloder tactfully worked around with the news and only the higher ranks in Sp.Ark. were to know the full truth.

A new meeting with the Representatives was booked three days later.

The structure of the HQs was intensely analyzed and it miraculously had no major damage, just the bottom floor being to be reinforced as much as possible. The abyss that grew from the heavy training room though... that was initially problematic. The hole was way too deep to be refilled and a plan was formed: with a relatively small effort, it could be the base for a new increment in the HQs for the new incoming engineers. The incline was remarkably workable and they would be able to set a new structure in the abyss and fill the gaps. Architects and engineers were immediately set to work with Optimus’ promise for materials.

As the majority of cybertronians were the first to return to the headquarters, Optimus initially avoided sharing a word on the matter of the destructive event. He knew his Autobots were aware it was due to the news he had previously shared. Elita was the first to approach him right outside his office, her face a mask of worry.

“Optimus...?”

The Prime turned to face her with great difficulty, his optics unable to bear hers. “I’m glad you’re ok, Elita...” He was honestly truly relieved that no one had any accidents at all.

She leaned forward and grasped his hand in hers, “What about you?”

He gave her a squeeze and shook his head, slowly at first, “Forgive me... for failing to fulfil my promise... I caused everyone a great distress,”

“You have nothing to be forgiven for, you did what it was needed to be done and kept everyone safe,” He averted his optics, uncharacteristically trying to pull away from her, but she tightened her grip, “Optimus, what happened to Dee has nothing to do with you,” She pressed on, her tone more confident, “He needed to eventually know. How he reacted is not your fault.” By his stoic reaction, she unfortunately knew she didn’t make a dent in his thinking.

Optimus took a deep in-vent, “I could feel him keeping himself in check, he did well... then he... just sank... so fast. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I highly regret having left him alone,”

“It’s still not your fault, Optimus.” She said, vigorously, and let his hand go. “Where is he now?”

“Barometric room.”

“Is he hurt?!”

Optimus nodded, but didn’t add details, “He’s stable now. I’ll give you all further details later, Elita. Forgive me, but a different matter awaits me,” He uncomfortably cut short and headed towards lab 19-84.

“Prime,” Shockwave stood tall at his station as Optimus entered the room. He was the only one present for the moment, no other team member had returned.

Optimus stared the scientist down as he walked closer to him, “Senator,”

“I believe an explanation to the evacuation is logically due.”

“I’m certain you’re aware of the recent events. You need no clarification.” The big yellow optic didn’t blink, but the faintest flick of its light signed Optimus he wasn’t pleased.

“Alas, I might need to know the reason of such event.”

“Not at all. Either way, I’m not here to discuss this matter.”

Shockwave’s audial tilted, “Speak, old friend,”

Optimus wasn’t particularly fond of being called so, especially with Shockwave’s lack of warmth. What they used to share back then before the war is long gone, leaving only a cruel, emotionless mockery. Shockwave was aware as well and seemed to find a sort of sick enjoyment in testing Optimus still today.

Optimus slowly blinked, swallowing his pride and continued, “You haven’t alerted Megatron nor me about Visitors,”

“Logically.” He dryly said. “I’ve seen none.”

“Odd, I’ve just talked to one.”

That seemed to tickle Shockwave, probably in the wrong way. “Peculiar and remarkable.”

“How long have you been hunting them?”

A holo-screen flashed to existence next to the scientist, signing precisely the first sign of Visitors Shockwave had intercepted. “Not long enough to prepare a proper trap. Sir.”

Despite the impossibility of Shockwave to emote, Optimus could easily understand the tease, just as much as his frustration. The screen showed three strong signals of the Visitors and Optimus immediately connected them to what that creature called Lewis said. A clan of two brothers and their niece, now officially under his protection. “You won’t have any at this point. Leave them alone. That’s an order.”

Shockwave stared in silence before forcefully nodding. “Very well. My hunt is concluded.”

Optimus studied him a moment, well aware the scientist was already planning his next move, the thrill of studying and researching a new life form was probably too inviting for him to let go so easily. He’ll keep his optics on him, more than usual seeing the circumstances. “Call Soundwave back to his station, I need to talk to Ratchet as soon as possible.”

“That will be done. Optimus.” He observed as the Prime took his leave and got back to work, calling his companion back to the lab. There was a lot of re-calibrations and system resets due to the damage on different levels, so for only a short period of time the most logical thing to do was to set aside his desires, but the senator was far from wanting to just let go his research. And just with the same level of craving for knowledge, a long shadow stretched out the screen behind him, the long neck hovering right above the mono-optical mech, undetected.

Fascinating broken mind.

“Ugh, I knew it...” Hashtag groaned in front of the locked door.

“Can’t you override the system?” Twitch suggested, hovering in bot-form next to her sister’s side.

“Tried. I can’t reach anything and Starscream has the only emergency key.”

“Great... now what?”

As the evac order had been lifted, the two sisters had tried to contact Starscream wanting to check on him and his clan, but the whole Nest was still on radio silence. To Hashtag it made no sense and she thought something was going on, either Starscream was having issues or -as Nightshade had suggested- maybe the Nest system was having major troubles due to the Visitors’ presence that caused odd glitches in the area. They stood at the very feet of the whole mountain, where the main ground-way in was available.

“Well, there’s a mechanical door you can open from outside if you know the lock combo,”

“Ok, where can we find it?” She chirped a bit eager, but her bright smile dropped to the floor when Hashtag looked up at the only-flight-reachable runway. “...You gotta be kidding me.”

It sure took all her mighty propeller-strength and her unmatched determination to honestly be able to lift her more-than-twice-her-size sister. She might have been a little drone, but Twitch was more powerful than anyone would give her credit for and more stubborn than Nightshade and Thrash combined. With her arms around Hashtag’s torso, she powered-up as much as she was allowed and after a quick “And-a-1-and-a-2-and-a-1-2-3!” count and a very good jump, the two of them were raising up to the sky. It wasn’t the first time Twitch had lifted her sister, but each time had sure been a bit of a gym session for her poor propellers and the landing was a bit rough and heavy. Hashtag elegantly dropped on her feet, Twitch ruinously fell to the floor, face first.

“Come on, up-up!” Hashtag cheerfully pulled her up, brushing her vents clear, half-chuckling as the smaller Terran deeply and loudly in-vented to catch a break.

All around them was silent if not for a soft beeping light above the main entrance at the throat of the cave that signed the Full Lockdown. The elevators (which were barely used by fliers) were cut from power, just like any other instrument that wasn’t used in an emergency situation. The sisters followed the ground lights to the side entrance, where Hashtag smoothly opened the door, unlocking the mechanical sequence. “Alright, down we go!”

With a loud groan, Twitch got ready to pick her up again to go down the straight chute, but then beamed when Hashtag offered to just slide down the ladder. They still agreed to have a rope between them to avoid incidents.

Hashtag’s hands and feet were burning hot when she touched the ground and Twitch cooled her down with her propellers. “Ugh this is gonna leave a mark, I feel it,”

They arrived in a hall where all the other chutes connected and in front of them stood the huge bunker door. Seeing no other option... they knocked and did after a jingle Hashtag used constantly on her notifications. If Starscream heard that, he could easily know it was her. It didn’t take long for the many locking gears to start moving.

“There you are!” Hashtag loudly exclaimed seeing the Seeker, happy arms in the air, “Beeped you all morning to reach you! Fancy of you to finally answer me now!”

Starscream huffed annoyed through his neck vents, “Get in you two,”

“The emergency has been lifted though,” Twitch chimed in, but he seemed in a sourer mood than usual and her words made him even more annoyed as all the fliers in the bunker behind him heard her and a loud excited murmur started raising. All the young Terrans and his sisters really needed to soar.

“Can we leave?”

“Can we go out now?”

“My wings need air!”

“I need to stretch!”

Starscream suddenly snapped back at them, his voice shrilled with frustration, “NOBODY MOVES!” That froze even the smallest excited flier, scaring them and forcing them to scuttle back confused. He saw a few of his captains holding in their arms the youngest, most vulnerable chicks. Big scared optics stopped on him and, for the faintest split of a moment, Starscream seemed to regret his tone of voice, yet he harshly turned to the Terran sisters, baring his teeth, “You two. In. Now.”

The huge door slammed behind the two Terran sisters as he not-so-elegantly locked it, the AI voice confirmed the full lockdown again. Starscream grabbed Hashtag’s arm, pulling her away from her sister and towards a room he made his office out of and while passing he sent a quick glance at both Nova and Sky, receiving only a perplexed stare.

Twitch didn’t even have the time to react that she saw her sister simply disappear in the room. She turned to Nova and Sky, who honestly didn’t look too hot. “What’s going on?”

“Ehy! Star! What’s gotten into you?!” She pulled free from his grip and he closed the door.

“What the hell are you doing roaming about in a situation like this?!”

“What are you talking about? The evac order has been revoked, people are going back home,”

“Oh, really now? Was it Prime to reassure you the area is safe?” He almoat giggled, full of mockery.

“Who else? Whatever happened at HQs is now under control,” She looked incredibly confused by his tone.

Starscream seemed to simply stare at her for a few seconds in pure silence and disbelief, until his expression broke into a sneer and he burst into a hard, loud, condescending laugh that almost brought tears to his optics. It took a while for him to vent properly again, while Hashtag stood with her hands on her hips, not understanding and slightly annoyed.

“If you know something that we don’t, just spit it out! We haven’t dragged our afts up and down the mountain just to be teased by you, Star!” Hashtag snapped, actually catching his attention and pulling a string in him.

He huffed rather miffed, “Very well. Now tell me, girl...” His tone hardened, “Do you have any idea what just happened?! Don’t you understand why I won’t have any of my fliers outside at all?!” His voice shrilled with annoyance.

Hashtag didn’t react to his outburst, “We don’t have any full report yet... We’re waiting for Optimus,”

He squinted at her, his tone rather quiet. “Well, it just happens to be quite a situation out there, but you’re waiting for the Prime? His responsibility. So be it. I don’t need more crawling in my circuits right now,” He finally acknowledged the notifications that started popping up on his line the moment he had opened the door, temporarily turning off the lockdown.

With the most gentleness possible, Hashtag approached him sensing something was very off. His tone, his mood and his body language told her he was hiding something. His optics said he was hurt, he was angry, frustrated, and probably needed someone to talk to, but his pride was once again in the way. She knew that with Nova and Sky he couldn’t really talk, or at least have a proper spark to spark conversation without risking for it to turn into a loud quarrel, where they’d misunderstand one another and not really come to a closure. It only happened in rare occasions where they really could talk of emotional problems, finding a good balance, but after having seen him and his sisters outside, Hashtag guessed they already talked and all three now were hurting.

“...Star? Why did you pull me aside?”

Starscream seemed to freeze as his audials peeked her gentle voice. He avoided looking at her, but his wings moved low... His vents were huffing hot and took a moment to cool down. He in-vented deeply before looking at her in the optics. “Skywarp replied to the... thing we sent him.”

“Oh... Oh! That was fast!”

“It... was.” He sent her a look as if waiting for a rebuttal or anything snarky, forgetting for a second he wasn’t talking to either Nova Storm or Skybreacher. He was incredibly glad of her patience and the two sat on the one bench against the wall. “He was very enthusiastic to hear from us,” The lack of a hint of a smile on his faceplate made Hashtag worry a bit. “He didn’t have the best news to share though.” Steam puffed out from his hot vents, “He said... our brother Thundercracker has been lost.”

With a soft whisper, she asked, “What you mean wi-”

“DEAD!” He jumped on his feet, angrily cutting her off, “He was found dead!” He sharply in-vented realizing he was scaring her and tried a more approachable tone, “TC had... gone off alone after the fall of the Spacebridge, abandoning Skywarp alone in the capital. Sky went eventually after him and found him dead.” Despite his effort for auto-control, anger was easily getting the best of him, “He was killed. And you know what else? It was an execution! HE HAD A HUGE HOLE IN HIS SPARK! And wanna know the worst part?! On that damn ship there’s a bloody quantum doppelganger of him!”

That was such a sudden outburst of mixed emotions that really caught her off-guard, so Hashtag ever so slowly got on her feet, hands before her that seemed to calm him down, even for a slight amount. “Star... Ok, focus on me... big vent, big vent...” She tried to guide him, puffing her chest, air in and out, but Starscream completely ignored her attempt. “I-I...” For a moment, she really didn’t know how to face the situation, she was made for jokes and happy drama, not this amount of anger. She really wanted to give him a hug, to reassure him things will find their balance, but a single look at Starscream told her that was not the way with him right now. She knew he was studying her, trying his best to calm down, to have a more preferable way of communication and yet she noticed something was keeping him down. She couldn’t know TC had been hunted down by a Council-delegated squad and executed for the badge on his wings by an Autobot shooter. That made Starscream’s optics burn with hate.

“Starscream...” Carefully, she took his hand in hers and noticed how much he was shivering, “Sit back down with me,” She tried to guide him back on the bench, but he simply pulled away, looking incredibly detached. “Star... I’m so sorry, I’m terribly sorry for what happened to him...”

He sneered, “I don’t want your pity! You wanna know whose fault is it?!” He suddenly froze, deep in thought, his optics darting from a point to another. There Hashtag saw something that alarmed her. She knew Starscream quite well and by the simple look of it, she knew he was scheming something that he shouldn’t.

He straightened up, sending the command to remove the lockdown and open the door. Hashtag’s calls were ignored and when she grabbed his hand again, he pulled way more harshly than intended as he moved out of the room. All his fliers were eagerly waiting for release, but seeing him so livid, they all moved out of the way. Even before his sisters could stop him, his jets were bursting hot propelling him out of the bunker and incredible high speed. They both were fast on his tail, but they had no chance on catching up with him, he was way faster, even more than Skybreacher using her warp ability, and when anger fueled him, he was uncatchable.

“Would you stop fixing it for the nth time?” Sharpenclaw hissed. He was sitting at the console outside Megatron’s chamber, keeping his vitals under constant check and still unconventionally working despite his arm. He was heavily patched up, but after a long series of curses, he slimmed the cast himself and refused to either wear a support or allow any other doctor to have Megatron and Optimus under their care, not that there were many volunteers for the grey old mech nor anybody dared to go against Sharpenclaw’s words and risk to lose a limb. Although as Tarantulas got to know what happened to him, he quickly got in contact with the doctor and reached him in his office upstairs. Since Megatron was moved to the chamber, he had diligently followed the medical mech and even won a little bickering with him to finally being allowed to apply a support made out of his bio-mechanical webs. Sharpenclaw only agreed because he was tired, needed a hard drink and the offered support was incredibly light. Though Tarantulas kept readjusting bits over the shoulder with his long spider limbs.

“I would if you’d stop pulling too hard.” The spider-bot calmly added, ignoring his dear friend’s bad mood. “You need to go recharge,”

“I need a big glass of engex from the Lux era,” He groaned. “That’s what I need.”

Tarantulas arched his brow, his pincers twitched, “You still have a container?”

“42.”

“...And you haven’t offered me a drink in months.”

“Never got the chance to open any.”

“Well, the incoming ship offers one,” Tarantulas cheekily said and the doctor gave him a frowning look, but it quickly turned into a nod.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind opening one. You know where my living quarters are.” There was a sort of silent agreement between the two mechs to meet way later on after sunset due to Sharpenclaw having to wait for the strong meds he took to eventually wear out before going for an engex sip.

A message beeped into Sharpenclaw’s private line, it was Bumblebee. The yellow bug had been updated about Megatron’s situation by Optimus, but he had no idea of the doctor being technically out of service, so being his medical reference, he automatically asked for his aid. After a polite salute and asking if everything was good, if asked if he could have a check on Breakdown due to a very odd audial strong pain. Tarantulas glared at him when Sharpen accepted the request.

“What are you all ruffled up about?” The doctor sneered.

“Send them to Macrogram.”

Sharpenclaw grimaced, “Absolutely not! Do I have to remind you the whole mech side of the Malto family has been assigned to me? I’m their trusted doctor, you like it or not!”

Tarantulas blinked and got on his feet leaning closer to him, a long talon of his casually plucked the string that he made out of web and whispered in his audial. “Hypocrite.” He moved away hiding a big grin, the satisfaction of having caught the doctor red-handed was honestly incredibly satisfying. Even more when he saw his boiling silent expression and his white mane-quills emerge from the back of his neck, dangerously quivering. He straightened up and shook his head as if to say Oh, don’t give me that look. 

“I’ll get you a little drink, you look like you need it.” And he smoothly moved the nearby dispenser, making a small container of energon drop in his talons.

Begrudgingly, Sharpenclaw moved Bee’s appointment in Macrogram’s book.

The lights around were kept dim and the chamber was dark, only rare tiny lights were shining and blinking in slow intervals. They could see Megatron resting on a padded berth, his right arm heavily medicated after a huge reconstruction of it and part of the chest, neck and shoulder. His loyal old cannon was gone, eradicated, and sent to be deeply analyzed.

The monitors outside the chamber were signing his imminent awakening, but Optimus could feel it way before those. He had asked to be let in after depressurizing the room and insisted to have their spark chambers connected again for a transfusion and Sharpenclaw obliged seeing it as a better option than enriched energon transfer. Optimus was sitting at his left side, relaxing and focusing on their Bond. He could feel a pleasant shiver at each in-vent his companion took, a calm sensation engulfed both of them in their reverberating connection.
He knew Megatron was awake before he opened his optics.

Optimus waited patiently for him to get a hold of his surroundings and eventually their optics connected, a bright blue looking into a spent red.

Immediately Megatron’s expression went through an evolution of emotions, he found no words to express out loud what he was feeling and seeing such struggle, Optimus gently leaned in, preciously pressing his crest against his helmet and calming down that tempest of thoughts with a long, deep in-vent that escaped both mechs’ vents. One hand went to tightly hold Megatron’s left one, the other cupped his head in an intimate sharing of warmth.

They both allowed themselves a long moment of still silence, engulfed in the bliss of having their partner close.

Megatron blinked to focus his optics in the dark and eventually noticed the transfusion connection between their sparks. “What are you doing?” He was surprised by how raspy he sounded and Optimus couldn’t help himself but to chuckle.

“Keeping you well energized.”

“Fool,” He closed his optics in a gesture of thanks before continuing analyzing the surroundings. He sure noticed the poor conditions of his arm, his UI immediately scanning the damages and the many patching works he received, catching also the final report on one of the wall-screens nearby. He sighed aloud taking note of the fact he indeed couldn’t feel his arm if not for a loud buzzing and a ghost sensation of his cannon.

“It’s alright... it’s alright,” Optimus whispered leaning his lips on his helm, he had started to sense a flood of thoughts boiling up in his partner’s mind again. “The damage is minimal, we already have a plan for what to do next.” He suddenly snorted, “It actually helped you know? It made room for the new structure for the new engineers.” All he heard was Megatron sigh deeply and that killed the smile he had. “... I’m sorry, Dee.”

Though, Meg’s scoff pleasantly surprised him, “Always able to keep spirits high, Pax.” He squeezed Optimus’ hand, glad to see that smile reappear.

“That’s what I do best.” He gently brought his big hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.

“How’s Sharpen?”

“He’d tell you he’s fine and ready to go back to work. Hah, I have to sign his leave before he goes upstairs.”

“He’s here?”

“Just outside the chamber, Tarantulas is there with him.”

“...I shall apologize to him.” He started to sit up, but Optimus’ hand gently kept him still.

“If you try to get up he’ll get here and kneecap you.”

Megatron considered it and relaxed back down. “Fair enough.”

“Rest for now. We’ll... we’ll figure something out.” Despite his cheerful note, that didn’t make Megatron smile. He saw him avert his optics and felt a dark note echoing in their Bond.

With a simple move, Optimus leaned his head down, gently pressing next to his partner’s, getting cosy and protectively pulling his arm close. Megatron eventually leaned against him, opening his fingers to entwine them with OP’s, keeping him tightly against his chest. A reassurance both mechs craved and needed, which... didn’t last too long.

A deep rumble was starting to be perceived. Tarantulas’ bio-mechanical sensory system picked it up before anyone in the room and Sharpenclaw was immediately feeling it as well through his mane. There was no alarm going off, but soon very far loud banging started to sound from the few floors below. Tarantulas was always connected to the main communication lines and soon he started hearing problems from the repairing teams and engineers down the abyss. Lights went off triggering the emergency generator and the doctor was happy the chamber was not in function in that moment.

Optimus and Megatron shared a confused look, OP’s antennas tilted up as he immediately called Wheeljack to know what was going on. It was the exact moment that he heard his friend pick up that he saw Megatron’s optics widen and with a speed almost unnatural to him, he saw the wounded mech unhook OP’s end of the transfusion cable and push him aside hard enough to send him crash against the wall. The moment after it was a pure chaos of flying broken shards of glass, concrete and metal and a cacophony of jet engines roaring and blaring, a thick cloud of dust rose fogging the surroundings. Way before Optimus could open his optics, he felt a heavy hit in his side followed immediately after by another to his head. Stunned, he stumbled to stay upright until he felt the mouth of a big gun pressing hard under his chin, pinning him against the wall. All he could eventually hear was Megatron’s hissing through his teeth and feel the echo of a sharp pain through their Bond around his arm. Megatron had fallen hard to the floor, landing on his patched arm, which on impact had started to bleed. He could also hear a contained panting and vents whirring hard in front of him, but his head was ringing too loudly and the phantom pain stopped him from fully focus. But he did recognize Starscream as the seeker talked.

“It’s all your fault...” He barely said in a faltering whisper, his optics piercing through the dust cloud hard enough to be able to freeze the devil himself. Upon hearing the groan from the other mech, Starscream acted quickly, “Let’s see how you feel seeing someone you love die in front of you...” He was over Megatron with a single pounce, gun directly aiming at his spark and loading, his optics filled with hate for the mech below him, now trapped and squirming like a broken animal under his heavy foot, hissing in pain at the wound... but the more he looked at him, the less he felt it easy to pull the trigger... Those red eyes still looked up at him without any weakness, firmly holding his hateful gaze, making him quiver and doubt his choices.

Within less than a blink of an eye, the bright light of Optimus’ axe was shining against Starscream’s neck with the arched blade hooking him under the chin. “The gun, Starscream.” The Prime’s hard, firm words thundered under an immensely controlled order.

The seeker felt a shiver down his spine, his vents trembled as panic started to rise, but he firmly kept the loaded gun aimed down at Megatron’s spark. For how long and how much he had schemed to be in a position like that, Lord Megatron at his mercy, one single move and he’d be the one choosing his end. Yet... he really couldn’t bring himself to finish the job. So much had changed. Too much had changed. And still he hated both of them for Thundercracker’s fate.

There was no arguing though, he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger and he really forced himself to slow his vents down. He knew Optimus would not hurt him unless really provoked, but knowing his authority, his strength, his speed and precision from past battles, Starscream didn’t really want to push his luck.

Until an acute long ring sounded in his audial. Upon recognizing it, Starscream really felt panic growing in him.

“Interesting topic, Starscream.” The gun’s sound grew higher signing being set on the highest voltage. “I already have a reason to shoot you, don’t give me another.” It was Sharpenclaw aiming directly at his head, his good arm fully transformed into a weapon well known for the agonizing pain it caused without killing its targets. It could still kill and the seeker knew it.

The moment the jet had crashed into the room, Tarantulas had the incredible reflexes to pull Sharpenclaw close to himself and protect him from flying debris, creating a fast web for his back as a shield, but the chaos stunned him momentarily and couldn’t stop him from going after Starscream. He had called after him, but Sharpenclaw had gone into the heart of the mess. The doctor had been unbelievably fast and stealthy, guided by a very old desire to have an excuse the get the seeker in his claws. Among all the present mechs in the room, he was the only one with enough grit to shoot. And Starscream knew that well too.

“Sharpen,” Optimus’ warning was severe yet very cautious. “Please, step back.” But the doctor openly ignored the Prime, his optics fixed on the fear Starscream was sweating from his vents. “Lower your gun.”

Sharpenclaw didn’t even blinked when he disobeyed him, removing the safety of his trigger. “Him first.”

“Starscream,” Optimus now was getting a bit desperate as he recognized the doctor had really no intention of letting go.

The seeker blinked and deeply in-vented, finally lowering his weapon, the dying sound of it made everyone sigh with relief. Begrudgingly, Sharpen pulled his weapon back, but never stopped glaring at the seeker, not until Tarantulas grabbed him by the shoulders and forcefully pulled him out of the room. He harshly shook free of his grasp and very angrily walked towards the emergency elevator to the side, loudly yelling into the medbay line to send a team of medics to the barometric room floor immediately. The spider-bot was right after him, but had to follow him climbing up the elevator shaft.

That averted, Optimus seemed very relieved. He looked down at Megatron, who simply gave him a hint of a reassuring nod. The axe flashed out of existence with an electric crackle and he took a step next to the seeker, who, after moving off Megatron, remained still and in a sort of shocked state, his vents huffing aloud as he tried to stabilize himself.

Megatron sat up in a groan, he was still losing fluids, but in a very low amount, the sutures despite fresh had kept quite well, it was mostly the hit and the soreness. Optimus promptly helped him up on his feet and allowed him to sit on a near chair. As he turned to look at the seeker, also Megatron’s optics never left Starscream, looking at him with a mix of tolerance and morbid curiosity.

“Starscream?” Optimus tried to lean a hand on his arm, but the seeker immediately reacted moving away with a jolt and a glare.

“Don’t touch me,” He said under his breath, livid yet somehow scared.

Optimus’ antenna twitched at the incoming call. “Wheeljack? ... We’re ok,”

“There’s Nova Storm and Skywarp here, looking for Starscream. They’re quite hysterical,”

“Tell them he’s here, unharmed. Is Elita there with you?”

“Optimus?” She promptly joined in the line.

“Please, come to collect him and take him to a unused room. Let his sisters join you.”

“Will do. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Don’t use the main elevator. It’s... uh... inoperable.” Indeed, Starscream had burst through the big shaft coming from below, apparently he had dove into the abyss to reach the lower levels. He couldn’t have known where Megatron was, but having been his second-in-command for innumerable eons, he knew extremely well how to quickly locate him. For what reason, Optimus couldn’t tell.

Not even thirty seconds in, the squad of medics invaded the floor from the emergency elevator and were quickly assessing Megatron and Optimus’ conditions, although the Prime told them to focus on his companion as he kept an optic on Starscream. The seeker didn’t require medical attention and had managed to calm himself down a reasonable amount, enough to retreat his weapon before the medics could see it. He just stood there, looking exhausted and spent.

As if summoned, Elita appeared very punctual accompanied by the seeker twins. All three of them were quite shocked to see the conditions of the floor, but the twins quickly forgot about it as they were next to Starscream, at first loudly complaining and reprimanding him, which they stopped rather soon seeing him not responding, his optics stuck on his ex-superior.

Elita was, on the other hand, shocked to see Megatron’s conditions, “Megs...?”

“I’m alright,” He thundered, getting on his feet, gently stopping the doctors’ working on him. He turned to Optimus and very calmly said, “Let them go.”

The two conjunxes looked at each other for moment of contemplation. Optimus was the first to look away, his optics landing on Starscream. Indeed, they could both silently agree neither of them had ever seen the seeker in such a state, his blue optics were a mirror of pain. Never they had ever seen him so hurt. Optimus nodded at the twins and they carefully took their older brother away. They will eventually talk later. For now, Optimus only wanted Megatron to heal and their doctor to calm down.

It was only a few minutes later that Optimus noticed the many calls and messages Hashtag and the rest of her family had left as well after she failed to contact him. He promptly reassured the Maltos’  that there was nothing to be worried about and that he’d give all the information by the end of the day.

Megatron too had found a few messages and call, a good amount were from Twitch alone. It comforted him that his Little Bird was always vigilant for him, always wanting to be sure he was alright. For the moment he left her a little message, wanting her and her family to stay safe and to patiently wait for their next call.

Tarantulas was only a couple of minutes behind Sharpenclaw when he finally got to his quarters’ door. He just entered, immediately aiming for the studio room he knew the doctor loved to relax in. Indeed, there he found him at a small table, giving the back to the door. His four tentacles were out and working in the front, aiding his good hand to open a long canister of engex and not-so-gently slamming a glass down.

Despite well knowing his friend was absolutely livid, Tarantulas moved fast to stop him. “Ehy, ehy... Sharpen, you still have meds circling.”

“You want that drink or not?” The doctor hissed, not looking at him. He had taken only a very quick sip, not enough to go in contrast with the medication, despite his desire to get absolutely drunk.

A long spider limb carefully moved away that empty glass as Tar’s arm wrapped around the doctor’s back and tried to pull him to sit down. “Later. Now, would you rest a moment?”

Sharpenclaw abruptly pushed him off as if his touch had shocked him, but his optics told the whole tale Tarantulas needed to know. As if a book had opened right in front of him, he understood the doctor was still in deep mourning and for hundreds of millennia he had hidden the fact way too well, even from his dearest friend. Sharpenclaw had never accepted Windchaser’s death, never accepted his sacrifice, never believed Starscream’s side of the story, yet even the official report said that his conjunx upon a risky maneuver during a battle has saved many fliers’ life taking a heavy hit, mortally wounding him. In his last moment, Windchaser had shared his remaining resources to allow Starscream and another flier to return to base safely. Sharpenclaw believed Starscream had simply stolen it, dooming his conjunx on the ground. There has not been a body to retrieve, nor a spark chamber to hold, in an instant Sharpenclaw had found himself completely alone.

Tarantulas held his friend’s glare for a long moment, saw anger slowly dissipating and his body release the tension in shivers and steam puffing out from his abdominal vents. Only when Tar saw his optics soften he moved closer opening all his limbs and he was unbelievably relieved when the doctor accepted him, slowly moving into his arms.

Optimus finally took a little breather after Megatron was moved to a different medical area with half of the medical team taking care of him. The barometric room floor had been added to the list of things to fix and now Optimus was collecting all the innumerable reports the engineers were sending him about structural integrity, first designs of the new installment signed by Schloder and an estimate of the needed materials. He archived all the files and as he finished, an email notification beeped.

> Please allow me to collect the reports.
> I shall bring you the perfect amount of materials. I shall send a list for you to evaluate.

> Reply to this message with “Permission granted”. No other file will be touched.

> Lewis

Optimus seemed hesitant at first, to him it felt like he was allowing a virus in his own very personal system and yet... something really told him that if these Visitors really wanted to cause damages, they could have easily done so without anything stopping them. After all, Lewis had sent the email to his most private contact channel which only a restricted handful of mechs and people had.

He sighed and granted access to the Visitor. Not even half a second later, he saw a tiny symbol appearing over the archived folder he had created only for those reports, a pixel art of a seven finger webbed dark hand covered the very corner of it. A reply to his permission thanked him.

Optimus shook his head and rubbed his optics, he craved a treat.

As he walked upstairs he had Soundwave on the line, highly hoping to be able to get in touch with Ratchet as soon as possible, but the communicator was having troubles syncing with their signal. He headed towards the first distribution room and there he happened to see a yellow bug. “Bumblebee,”

The younger mech was alone in the small room, spacing out in front of the display beyond the glass of the dispenser. “O-Oh... hi Optimus,” The two mechs looked at each other thoroughly and with a small smile, Bee offered him the drink he had just collected knowing he’d like it.

“Thank you, Bee,” He drank it in one gulp and would likely get four more.

“So... how are you? How’s Megs?”

“He’s... stable. We’ll... have a lot to sort out eventually. For now we all crave some peace.”

“Yeah...” He awkwardly ordered another drink for himself. “At least nobody got hurt.”

“Why are you here in the waiting room?”

“Dragged BD to the doctor despite his protests, he got his audials burning out of nowhere and he doesn’t look that well. Macrogram is visiting him, but things got a bit longer as power went out earlier.”

So he didn’t know about Starscream’s intrusion yet, thought Optimus and for the moment he was OK with it.

“...Is it due to...?”

“Oh, no, no, it started way after the... shock-wave.” He gingerly moved his glass to make the drink twirl a bit. “I had to wrangle him up though, he didn’t want to come.” He snorted, trying to lighten the mood and Optimus actually snorted with him.

“Lucky bot, he is,” He raised his glass for a toast and Bee joined, their glasses clinked.

“I do my best to keep my conjunx alive,” He proudly stated, “Learned from the best,” That made Optimus chuckle.

“And you’d make even Ratchet proud, Breakdown isn’t an easy mech to handle. You made quite a pick,”

“Ugh, stubborn as hell,”

“Ah! He suits you,”

“Excuse me!” Bee laughed, “At least I never get bored,”

“Treasure that and keep hoping it never gets boring,” He gave him a good squeeze on the shoulder looking at him with so much pride it made the bug’s vent huff a bit... then in a very fatherly way, he pushed him aside. “Now would you excuse me, kid, but you’re between an old Prime and his replenishment,”

Bumblebee gasped half laughing, trying to not fall to the ground, “You could just ask for me to move!”

“Hmm no. Where’s the fun in that?” He happily ordered five drinks to go and collected them all in his arms.

“I hope you’re going to share those?”

“No, all for me. I do think I deserve them.”

Bee blinked slowly, remembering the last time Optimus had all those overly sweet drinks in one day. “...You’re gong to get an indigestion. Again.”

“Fear not, my dear young scout, I learned my lesson from last t- oh, what now?!”

He suddenly groaned at an emergency call from Soundwave and when he answered he unexpectedly found a recorded message from Ratchet, sounding slightly distorted and breaking up.

“OPTIMUS! We’re having a quantum reset after leaving the tank behind! A q-pax caught Quantum sickness, I repeat, Quantum sickness onboard! It’s Breakdown! His CNA doesn’t match anyone on the ship, it means he has a counterpart m-ch on Earth, I’m sending you the results to try for a match. I don’t know if the counterpart is similar to the q-pax or share the same name, but once you locate him, isolate him! Their lives depend on it, be quick! Brainstorm will be ready to guide you how.”

Optimus’ optics widened in shock, slowly turning to face Bumblebee who stood there very confused. The next thing he did was to rush towards Macrogram’s office to give him the CNA results he just received.