Actions

Work Header

Soundwave: Tired

Summary:

Soundwave has a mission to complete.
Rumble has a door handle to eat.

Who will win their battle of wills?
Who will pay their hospital bills?

Notes:

For my beloved Spoils. Happy birthday to the most amazing friend anyone could ask for. Love you!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It wasn't that Soundwave…regretted having sparklings. He loved the twins deeply, he could feel his spark swell with adoration every time they hit a new milestone. They were his first creations from the spark, and while he didn’t love his adopted cassettes any less, it was a special privilege to create new life from your own.

If they would stop eating things they couldn’t chew.

And the other cassettes had been, well, easier to manage. He never met Buzzsaw nor Lazerbeak as sparklings, and Ravage had more adopted him rather than the other way around. Soundwave had only ever known his three cassettes as full adults, with fully developed processors and impulse control. They were never rough-and-tumble bitlets with eyes bigger than their tanks, not to Soundwave.

When Megatron had commanded him to build a network of cassette spies to spread throughout the Autobot-controlled Senate, Soundwave decided to…exploit the vague phrasing and fulfill a long-time personal wish: a sparkling of his own. A beautiful creation he could mold into a competent and deadly mech, someone who could watch from the shadows and play the role of puppet-master just as Soundwave did. Beastformers had their advantages. Buzzsaw and Lazerbeak could surveille any mark unnoticed and Ravage had a preternatural stealth to her step that no bot could match. But they would never be accepted into casual society, not the way a humanoid mech like Soundwave was. A cassette that could go undercover into Autobot society and report back to its carrier would be a formidable asset to the Deception Cause, and Soundwave knew his creation would do great things for the future of their movement.

If they would stop eating things they couldn’t chew.

Twins had been a surprise, but a welcome one. Instead of one great genius, Soundwave would have two.

He named them Rumble and Frenzy. Rumble: to spread the message across the fabric of society, to create the rumblings of uprising. Frenzy: to agitate the masses, to whip them into a frenzy of war. His sparklings would rule the universe from behind the throne one day, using Megatron as their own personal puppet and figurehead.

If they would stop eating things they couldn’t chew.

Soundwave wondered how he was going to explain this fiasco to Megatron.

The mission was simple. The Decepticons had uncovered the location of a discreet Autobot meeting point. Under the cover of darkness, various members of the fascist Autobot government would gather to discuss the next steps in quelling the civil unrest. Every recognizable Senator, figurehead, enforcer, and stakeholder would be in attendance tonight, and Soundwave could not miss this chance. He and his cassettes, along with Deadlock, were to eliminate the security forces and wiretap the meeting audio to record and take back to high command.

Deadlock was in charge of eliminating security. Soundwave was in charge of the wiretaps.

This mission was imperative to the coming success of the Cause. It would be weeks before another gathering took place, and the Decepticons could not afford to wait that long for intel. It had to be tonight. It would be tonight.

If one of Soundwave’s horrible, trouble-making, chaos-causing little devils hadn’t decided to eat a door handle.

Rumble, in his infinite, 6-orbital-cycle-old wisdom, decided to have a mid-afternoon snack in the form of the iron transport door handle Soundwave was taking to the rendezvous point with Deadlock. The little idiot had managed to lodge the handle upright in his jaws. Thus, he couldn’t chew, couldn't swallow, couldn't even close his mouth, and Soundwave was too fearful of damaging his creation to just yank it back out. It had gotten wedged between two rows of his teeth, and while he was worried for his creations safety, Soundwave also wanted to keep all of his digits intact and away from hungry sparkling mouths.

It was clear Rumble had no issue eating anything in his line of sight.

Once it became clear the handle wasn’t going to come loose without medical intervention, Soundwave redirected the transport to the nearest medical center and wondered if having sparklings was the wisest idea.

The nearest medical center turned out to be the Greater Iacon Medical Center. A quick cybernet search told Soundwave the hospital was renowned for its pediatric care and surgery unit, so the twins would be in safe hands.

What the search did not tell Soundwave is that the emergency room waiting lines at the Greater Iacon Medical Center were incredulously long and slow. At least the twins were having a good time. Rumble was cradled in his hand, jaw still pried open, but he was giggling and drooling as his twin scampered along the top of Soundwave’s cassette deck to peer out at all the new sights of the hospital.

“Next!”

The line moved forward some. Frenzy peered out over the edge of Soundwave’s shoulder to stare at the mech in the line next to them, helm dipping and bobbing as he watched the mech's wings twitch. His back pedes tensed, body drawing low to the ground as his face scrunched in concentration. Well versed in his bitlets antics, Soundwave reached up and snatched Frenzy off his shoulder before he could make a flying leap at the seeker. He popped open his tape deck and dropped a seething Frenzy inside, teeth gnashing in rage as his plan was thwarted. He snapped the deck shut just before Frenzy started screaming to spare the audials of the others in the waiting room. There was a loud clang and Soundwave stumbled slightly as Frenzy attempted to headbutt his way to freedom.

At least he was energetic. Soundwave was only slightly worried about processor damage.

“Next!”

Finally, the line moved forward. Soundwave reached the little glass window of the reception desk, where a tired looking green and pink mech with a thick visor and beaded finials sat.

“Name and social serial number.”

Soundwave blanched, just for a picosecond. He was technically a fugitive of the state, and giving an Autobot-controlled hospital his personal information was as good as turning himself in. In the chaos and general disappointment of the day, he had forgotten about that. In the span of a synapse firing, he flicked through his memory banks to the information file of a deceased gladiator Megatron had defeated in the ring.

“Cygnet; #182-11-3212.” Soundwave intoned. Cygnet was a migrant from lower Tetrahex, it was highly doubtful an Iaconian hospital had her information.

“It looks like I don’t have you in our systems, sir, I’m gonna need to take some of your information.” The pink and green mech clacked on the keyboard. Soundwave checked the time. T-minus 7 groons until the mission was a go. Frenzy loudly thunked against his chest compartment again. The nurse looked up briefly, but decided she didn't care enough to ask.

“What’s your issue today, sir?”

“Sparkling: Unsuccessfully eaten transport handle.”

She glanced up for longer at that and noticed the little lump of Rumble cradled in Soundwave’s servos.

“Right. How old is the patient?”

“Rumble: 6 orbital cycles.” In his servos, Rumble squeaked at the sound of his designation.

The triage nurse typed some more. “Date of emergence?”

“2nd Cycle, 503.” There was another bang as Frenzy continued his escape attempts.

“Alright, it looks like I’m gonna need you to fill out some insurance forms,” the nurse reached over to a file cabinet and pulled out the oldest, most decrepit datapad Soundwave had ever seen. She flicked it on, then harshly smacked the side when the screen failed to flicker on. With a dim flutter, the screen came to life, a thick black bar of dead pixels running down the center. “Fill those out and return them to me.” She slid it through the little divot in the desk.
Soundwave tipped Rumble into one servo and picked the datapad up. “Estimate: expected wait.” Soundwave could not miss this opportunity.

“We see patients in order of check in and emergency. We’ll get to you when we get to you. Next!”

Soundwave was bustled out of line by the labor build behind him. In his servo, the datapad flickered off again.

_________________________________________

2 groons. It took two groons for Soundwave to finally be called back to the actual hospital. It was now T-minus 5 groons until go.

Soundwave had ended up using the insurance information of the dead gladiator. Shockingly, Cygnet had an excellent life insurance policy. Made a mech wonder why she ended up in fighting rings, and who that payout went to…

After Frenzy had worn himself out, Soundwave released him from captivity and popped him back onto his shoulder.

He was taken to a secluded corner of the medical bay, a specific pediatric section of the emergency room. It had little cartoon sparklings painted on the walls and infographics on sparkling growth and development coated the blank sections.

A nursing drone flew in and instructed Soundwave to deposit Rumble into the medical crib stationed by the wall. From there, the bot took various measurements: protoform density, reflexes, temperature, weight. He was screened for rust, mouth ulcers, metal and mineral deficiencies. Rumble was poked and prodded by the nurse drone while Soundwave loomed in the corner, obsessively checking his chrono. The tests and screens took arduously long.

A full groon passed. T-minus 4 groons until go.

Finally, an actual doctor arrived in the room. Apparently her designation was Quickfix, but Soundwave wasn’t really listening. Instead, he was combing over the intel files provided for this mission, cataloging them to his personal database so the originals could be disposed of without a trace. It was only when the words ‘emergency surgery’ flowed into the room that he clocked back into the conversation.

Soundwave closed the files. “Query: Repeat sentence.”

Quickfix gave him a quick smile. “Don’t worry, I’m sure your insurance will cover the cost. It looks like the handle is putting a severe strain on his temporomandibular joint, so the handle will need to be cut out. The joint has been flexed to its full capacity, so widening his bite to remove it is not an option, and sparkling teeth are just extensions of their protoform and cannot be pulled out like an adult mech’s can. So, surgery is our only option!”

She was rather bubbly for an emergency room doctor.

“But it’s all gonna be okay, we’re gonna take great care of this little man!” Her voice dropped to a sickeningly-sweet baby-talk whisper, “Because he's the cutest little bitlet in the whole wide world! Yes he is! Yes he is!

In the bassinet, Rumble giggled around the handle, more drool flowing out of his mouth. He had rolled onto his back to expose his belly to the tickling digits of Quickfix, and now had his back pedes clenched in his front pedes, further exposing his squishy tummy.

“The surgery itself is barely even surgery. All we’ll do is sedate the bitlet, then use a string saw to cut through the handle and extract it from his mouth! Shouldn’t take more than 3 groons!” Quickfix’s digits danced up and down Rumble’s protoform, eliciting little giggles.

Soundwave gave a mental sigh. “Time: Of the essence.” Frenzy started to growl at the excess attention his twin was getting and the lack he was receiving.

Quickfix’s helm snapped up at the noise. With a squeal, she clasped her servos together in adoration. “Oh my Primus, there are two of you!” She launched up off of her rolling stool and crowded into Soundwave’s space, delicately lifting Frenzy off of his shoulder. “My goodness, aren’t you two just the cutest little things this side of Cybertron!”

She cradled him in her elbow and began to bounce him as her other digits came to pet his little helm. “Their color is so beautiful, you must be one proud creator!”

Despite the tight time frame, the light insurance fraud, and the insufferable doctor, Soundwave did straighten in pride.

Rumble and Frenzy were fascinating to watch. They had been gifted with an extremely rare protoform mutation; iridescence. As the lighting shifted, they both flashed between crimson red and a deep periwinkle purple in a mesmerizing display. It could make telling them apart a nightmare to other mechs, but Soundwave knew his bitlets spark frequency intimately and could always differentiate them. Ravage just guessed which one was which and refused to take corrections.

“Rumble and Frenzy: Perfect.”

Quickfix giggled. “Yes, I think I might agree with you there.” She reached out and handed Frenzy back to his creator. “Now, I’ve sent in the order for surgery, so he’ll be taken up by a nurse drone in a few minutes. In the meantime, let’s discuss after care! The most important thing is-”

“Query: Rumble’s Surgeron.” Soundwave interrupted her oncoming lecture. He needed to know who would be presiding over his sparklings medical care so if anything went wrong, he could destroy them.

Quickfix didn’t skip a beat, “Pediatric Specialist Ratchet of Vaporex! He’s the best surgeon in the whole dang hospital if you ask me! And he’s friends with this cute Enforcer. Oreon? Oria? Something Pax, I think.” She sat back on her stool and busied herself prepping Rumble for surgery, still rambling on about cute enforcers.

Interesting. Very interesting. The Cause was aware of Ratchet of Vaporex, especially his illegal clinic in Rodion and the mechs it turned out. They took in many of his patients after he had saved their lives and convinced them to make something of themselves. But The Cause didn’t know he was close to any Autobot enforcer. Perhaps a weakness to be exploited later on…

Soundwave filed away that information for later investigation.

A nursebot flew into the room and announced its presence with a beep. Quickfix glanced up from her stool.

“Oh perfect, the operating theater is open already! Well, this is where you and I part ways, sir! A nursebot will be around to give you aftercare instructions. I’m off to a brand new adventure!” She gave a sloppy salute and flounced out the door, leaving behind a trail of diffusing optimism.

_________________________________________

The surgery was tortuously long. All they were doing was sawing the handle in half so it could be removed from Rumble’s mouth, and apparently that took 3 and a half groons. While he waited, Soundwave made arrangements to drop Frenzy and a healing Rumble at a Decepticon safehouse on the way to the mark, where Ravage would be keeping watch until Soundwave returned.

Rumble was nestled deep into the cushioning of the bassinet, and thick bandage wrapped around his jaw and neck to compress the strained protoform and accelerate healing. According to the nursing drone who had dropped him off, the anesthesia would be wearing off soon.

With a tired little groan, red optics slowly shuttered open. Tiny pedes flexed as Rumble gave a weak stretch and Soundwave shot up from his chair to go check on his little bitlet. At the sight of his approaching creator, Rumble gave a happy little squeak that turned into a purr as Soundwave scratched under his chin through the bandaged, just the way Rumble loved. Soundwave sagged over the bassinet and dropped Frenzy in so he could nuzzle with his brother.

The nursebot in the corner spun around to face Soundwave, pamphlets grasped in one claw. A monotone voice, even more monotone than Soundwave himself, erupted from its crackling speakers. “Sparkling will require minimum 48 groons of rest. Sparkling should be monitored after anesthesia wears off for same duration of time. Sparkling should be fed with specialty bottle included in aftercare package. Sparkling should not be fed high-grade energon, mid-grade energon, or supplement-rich energon for 72 groons after surgery. Please scan this QR code to rate your service at the Greater Iacon Medical Center Emergency Department.” On the drone’s screen, a little box popped up with a line of cartoon faces, ranging from a frowning red face to a smiling green face. The arm holding the pamphlets reached forward to offer them to Soundwave.

Soundwave scooped up his sparklings, gently placed them in his chest compartment, and swept out of the room, ignoring the drone entirely.

_________________________________________

The checkout process didn’t take nearly as long as the check in process. Soundwave was once again offered more pamphlets, and had a huge baggie of various aftercare supplies pressed into his arms by a haggard-looking triage nurse. The baggie included that specialty bottle the drone had mentioned, some low-grade energon, and a very nice note from Quickfix calling his creations ‘adorable and perfect’. Soundwave debated throwing the note away, but then decided to tuck it into his subspace. Quickfix was factually correct. Rumble and Frenzy were adorable and perfect.

T-minus 15 breems. It would be a stretch. The safehouse was 7 breems from the hospital, the rendezvous point another 5 after that.

Soundwave hustled out of the swinging double doors of the hospital into the scorching air of Iaconian summers. The transport he had called during the check-out swung into view and pulled up to the curb of the sidewalk, gull-wing doors automatically opening.

Soundwave scrambled in, grabbing the manual-pull of the doors and slamming them closed before shuffling the plating on his arm and jamming his jack into one of the ports of the transport console. Running a quick bypass, Soundwave entered the transport's speed controls and mutually overrode them, putting an unlimited cap on the max speed of the transport. While he was jacked in, he also overrode the traffic safety coding. Time was of the essence here.

The transport lurched off of the pavement, thrusters coming online as it rose into the sky. With a muffled thwoom, Soundwave was thrust back into his seat as the transport shot off across the airways of Iacon.

With one arm retracting the jack and tucking it away, Soundwave used his other servo to pop his tape deck and extract the twins from within. He set them onto the seat next to him, where they immediately started wrestling and scrapping with one another.

Ignoring their antics, Soundwave shot off a message to Ravage informing her of their Estimated Time of Arrival. He received a single ‘.’ in confirmation. He next pulled up the Decepticon High Command information complex and navigated to the ‘Tracked Operatives’ section. He scrolled, then opened up a file dubbed ‘Deadlock’. Good, the page showed a little glowing dot over the rendezvous point. The mercenary had arrived early. Soundwave checked his chrono again. 13 breems until go.

They were going to make it. All of the chaos of the day would no longer matter because the mission would be successful and The Cause would gain vital intel and Soundwave would not be thwarted by the inane antics of his creations and Megatron would never hear of the disaster his Communications Officer had suffered–

There was a loud clang, then the sound of metal shearing metal. Then the panicked squawk of a sparkling with something lodged in its mouth.

Soundwave froze. Then slowly turned his helm to the seat next to him.

Frenzy sat in that seat. Frenzy sat in that seat with a petulant look on his face. Frenzy sat in that seat with a petulant look on his face and the door handle of the transport lodged in his mouth.

Soundwave was wrong. He did regret having sparklings.

Notes:

Soundwave doesn't regret having sparklings, he's just tired.

dont ask me how units of time work in this fic, idk i made it up.

Please leave a comment and kudos, and follow my on tumblr @fishsticks19 or my Tf sideblog, @bomboobi! If you throw me a fic idea on @bomboobi, theres a chance i may write it!