And Chaos Ensues
Chapter One: A New Life
Prowl x Smokescreen
::bond::
=comms=
Thoughts
Telepathic communication
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, adjusting his doors to accommodate the new position. It had become the norm over the past half-orn and in that time he had only left his office for recharge and energon when needed, which seemed to be more often than he was used to. Ratchet seemed happy with the improvements to his habits and refused to check him to see what was wrong because "it might make him revert to his bad habits". The one time he willingly goes to the medic when something felt off and he was refused help. It was enough to make him feel like screaming.
The Decepticon klaxon on base – a recording of Starscream's screech – blared across the ship. The Praxian bolted from his office, an announcement following the alarm having called for all available Autobots. Either this was a big attack or the area they were required to protect was large.
Prime was apparently going to reuse one of Prowl's old battle plans as he was already ordering those who beat him there to positions around the nearby power plant. He was waved off as the Matrix-bearer knew that he already knew where he needed to be. The position made him uncomfortable as he had no back up outside of their sniper, Bluestreak, and he felt horribly exposed with such little cover. This area didn't have as good of cover as the original place the plan had been designed for and his normal back up was off on another mission helping some humans with a natural disaster or something similar.
=Bluestreak, I'm going to need some good cover fire.=
=I'm on it.=
=Thank you.=
Not but a long moment later, the Decepticons appeared over the battlefield and the ground-based mechs landed to go hand-to-hand against the Autobots. Prowl drew himself into the smallest target possible where he crouched and took aim at the mech working on mauling Cliffjumper. Almost as soon as he pulled the trigger, the mech's arm became a mess of disintegrating armor as acid ate away at it. Most of the firepower focused on him for a klik and with the small amount of cover available to him, he was hit several times. There was a sharp tug at his spark that was out of the ordinary and a sense of fear.
"Well slag," he muttered, placing the safety back on his rifle and subspacing it, his arms and doors sore and scorched from laser blasts, before darting across the field of battle. He had to get to Hook before he became part of Devastator. He had to be sure of his theory.
=Prowl! What are you doing?= Bluestreak shouted across the comm. link.
::Hook. He has to confirm my theory.::
::Contact Soundwave. He'll stop them from shooting at you.::
The black and white grinned at his youngling's advice. Soundwave, he thought loudly to catch the telepath's attention. I need to get to Hook. Is there any way for you to call them off?
Soundwave: will order that Prowl is to be protected.
Thank you.
A path seemed to magically clear for him across the field and straight to Hook. Apparently this was to be easier for him than expected even though he refrained from transforming into his vehicle mode. If what he suspected was occurring was actually happening, he couldn't for fear of major damage, at least after a spark-tug. His sprint across the space would have made Blurr proud. As it was, a few of the Autobots stopped and stared – one of which was Ratchet.
Prowl slowed before launching himself on the Constructicon and bowling him over onto his back. "I need you to scan me and see if I'm sparked again. It feels just like it did when I found out I was going to have my Blue."
The green and purple mech laughed as he pulled a spark scanner from his subspace and the rest of his gestalt closed rank around them so they would be uninterrupted. Such a procedure was delicate and one rarely performed in the middle of battle. There were a number of sparklings and younglings running around the Nemesis, but the Ark only had younglings and, other than Bluestreak, they had not been sparked from a Creator and Carrier but the AllSpark. His answer to the unasked question was, "You should trust your instincts more."
The Datsun sighed heavily. "I guess I have to tell Ratchet, but I'd rather have cuddles." A pout crossed his faceplates.
"How about I go with you or give you a youngling to cuddle?"
The doorwinger perked up. "Youngling?"
Scrapper reached out and grabbed Wildrider as he went to run past the Constructicon gestalt and threw him into the middle of their circle where he was suddenly latched onto by a purring Praxian. He looked at Hook in undisguised consternation. What was going on?
"He's carrying. Will you make sure he gets to Ratchet safely?"
Before he could answer, he was being dragged away from the Decepticons by the happily purring mech. He shrugged. There wasn't much he could do and you never piss Carriers off. They have more than a little bit of a temper. As he finally began walking next to the black and white without being dragged, the mech's purr grew a bit louder and he rubbed the side of his helm against the Stunticon's arm. He acted different from the Decepticon Carriers, but he didn't' want to annoy him so he kept quiet.
Silence had fallen on the battlefield as Prowl walked from the Decepticon line purring with a smile on his face as he cuddled – cuddled! – a Stunticon. What in the Pit was happening? And why was Prowl acting like that? Or, for that matter, the Decepticon? Why wasn't he attacking?
Bluestreak broke the silence with a laugh and if finally registered that the Cons were looking on with indulgent smiles on their faceplates. The gunner left his position and sprinted down to the other Datsun. Excitement was clearly written in his faceplates and the away his doors swung behind him.
"So it's true right? Your hunch wasn't wrong?"
"Correct."
The grey and red mech bounced happily on his pedes. "I get to be a big brother!" Another wave of silence passed through the murmuring ranks of the Autobots. That was surprising information.
A shout of "JAZZ!" echoed across the battlefield from Ratchet. The doorwingers looked at each other.
"Are you going to tell them?"
"Nope," Prowl answered. "Wait and see how long it takes them to figure it out."
The Decepticons laughed before some of them started calling for Swindle so they could start a betting pool. There were several questions that had to be entered into the books. When would the Autobots find out the Second-in-Command was bonded and who it was? Would he have a mech or femme? Who else would he adopt while he was carrying?
Smokescreen tapped a pede impatiently as he waited for Skyfire to settle and open his hatch so that he could disembark. The week he had been gone was killer and he couldn't wait to get back to base to have a relaxing wash and then a long recharge with his mate – helping at the earthquake site was both rewarding and devastating. And after his recharge, he hoped to coax his mate into a few overloads. Primus knew they both needed that.
He bolted out of the shuttle when he was finally allowed out and almost fell on his faceplates as his legs stopped moving but momentum kept his upper frame moving. What was Prowl doing with two of the Stunticons in his lap? Smokescreen vented heavily in a sigh.
"Hey Smokey!" Prowl greeted him. "You cuddle with me and the younglings?"
"You're sparked again, aren't you?"
"Yeah. Hook's coming later to do a scan. I think he's going to have the rest of the Stunticons, the Trine, Soundwave, and Megs with him. Sides and Jazz are in time-out. They tried pranking Ratchet. Sunny is in recharge in our room. As far as I have been able to tell, Ratchet and most of the other Autobots believe I am bonded to Jazz."
The psychologist's vents hitched as he tried to hold back a laugh. "Oh my Primus." A loud laugh burst from him and the black and white grinned before joining him in a laugh.
Wildrider and Dead End purred quietly in happiness, snuggling closer to the Praxian. He had wonderful hands and he used them for soothing motions along their helms and back struts. The yellow-chevroned Praxian laughed lightly as he knelt in front of his mate, leaning forward to kiss him gently.
"Did you know Megatron's better with younglings than Prime is? I think we need to move to the Nemesis."
Bluestreak bounced into the Autobot rec room excitedly and curled up next to Smokescreen. "Did Carrier tell you?"
"He didn't have to. I knew. He cuddled the Coneheads even more when he carried you. They were adorable sparklings then."
"Do you have any idea for names yet, Creator?"
A couple of thumps echoed through the room as mechs glitched. The gunner looked at his sire in bewilderment. "I thought they knew."
"Apparently not, Blue. Let me comm. Ratchet. Then we'll go with Prowl when he meets with Hook, alright?"
Ratchet had not been happy to find that many glitched mechs, but neither of the Praxians guilty for the infraction had been around. They had, in fact, moved onto the Nemesis and their newest sparkling was welcomed into the world a few months later. Thundercracker won the bets, his answers having been:
1. The Autobots would find out when Bluestreak identified Smokescreen as his Creator.
2. He had an adorable mechlet with Seeker wings. (It was a long shot, but he had a feeling.)
3. Prowl adopted the rest of the Stunticons, Fireflight, Jazz, and the Twins Major.
He was a happy mech as he sipped his winnings – high grade. There had been other things he won, but the Vosnian high grade was his favorite and the blue Seeker had a feeling his guest was needing it. After all, how often is it hat Praxian creations weren't the ones sparked in the relationship with a non-Praxian? Fragging almost statistically impossible. For it to happen twice? And with twins? So small as to be almost incalculable.