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Jetfire groaned, and opened his eyes to Ratchet frowning down at him. His spark did an uncomfortable, near-painful pulse as he looked around, seeing the damage the Ark had suffered. One end of the hallway was collapsed, metal warped and torn and electrics sending off sparks. “Did we. . . crash?” The shuttle’s voice was slightly staticky. There was a crack in his visor that made the inbuilt HUD flicker distractingly, and he turned off as many elements of it as he could to minimize the headache it was giving him.
“We did, and it knocked us all into stasis for who knows how long. Teletraan and Optimus are still figuring out what happened. Wheeljack tells me that calling the Ark’s black box banged up is an understatement.” Ratchet stood up. “Come on, I have spares of your visor in medbay, but we haven’t been able to get in and assess the damage yet. You’re going to have to deal with the damage for now.”
Jetfire stumbled to his feet, Ratchet taking on some of the taller mech’s weight. “Optimus wants you on the Bridge. Something to show you, apparently. He won’t tell me, but he had that look in his eye.” Oh, Jetfire had worked with Optimus since before the Prime’s ascension. The shuttle knew what that meant.
They moved down the hallway, turning a corner and passing a posse of minibots carrying some debris away. There was much more noise than Jetfire was expecting - he realized that a considerable amount of the Ark’s crew must have been awake and busy doing work.
Jetfire ignored another twinge from his spark, dismissing it as he nodded in greeting to Trailbreaker, who sat just inside the bridge at one of the consoles. The black mech appeared to be going over a diagnostic readout.
He stumbled to a stop at hearing an achingly familiar voice, and his finials twitched forward in interest. For a moment, Jetfire thought he’d just been hearing things, but then there it was again: Blacklight’s voice, tired but relieved.
Jetfire’s spark throbbed painfully, and he recognized it now for what it was - the closeness of a bond partner after a long, long absence. He’d simply mistaken it for his weak spark being up to its’ usual nonsense.
Someone stepped aside to reveal his conjunx, who had her back to him while she talked with Optimus. The Praxian’s doorwings hung low in tiredness, and he saw Infra laid across her shoulders, sleeping. Jetfire could not see the minicon’s siblings anywhere.
Optimus caught his gaze and brightened, saying something to Blacklight, who whirled around. Her face changed into a wide smile as she saw him there, still leaning on Ratchet for support.
She turned back to Optimus, briefly, who waved her off and gave her a gentle push in the direction of Jetfire. Blacklight rushed to her conjunx, dodging consoles, debris, and other Autobots along the way.
By the time she reached him, Ratchet had managed to shuffle them both over to a wall, which he let Jetfire slide down and rest against.
Blacklight fell into his offered hug with a light sob, the impact startling Infra awake, who bolted off her mother’s shoulders with a surprised yowl. She landed and turned to see what happened, climbing into the hug as well when she realized it was Jetfire.
None of them said anything, Blacklight pressing her face against his mask, minding her chevron. Jetfire’s engine rumbled in contentedness as he held them close.
They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, paying no mind to the hustle and bustle around them, or the Ark groaning as the ship protested from the efforts made to excavate and support collapsed hallways and rooms.
There was much work to be done, and many more reunions to be had.
But for now, it was just the three of them.