Optimus was alerted to the fact that there was something wrong in his base in Iacon when the soldiers started running by his office, shh-ing each other. They casted nervous glances towards his office, and so he got up.
He walked into the soldier's bunker and crossed his arms. The smiles and giggles faded as they looked up at him and they dropped their helms in shame.
Inside their circle was a box that formerly contained three newborn sparklings. They were still sticky with Energon and their carrier's birth fluids, and they were tiny. One of his soldiers were cupping one in his servos, stroking the helm with a thumb.
"Okay," Optimus said softly as he uncrossed his arms. "Who was carrying when they came in here?"
The tension in the room vanished and the ones holding the sparklings jumped up to show the Prime.
One was all red with blue optics. The second was white and red and wailing loudly in fear, his blue optics squeezed tightly shut as if he was scared of seeing the mechs. The last was also red and white, but he was calmer and purring gently.
"This one we called Perceptor, but Percy for short," the mech said, holding up the little all-red sparkling.
"This is Red Alert," offered the mech holding the wailing sparkling. "We think he's a little shook up and anxious."
The quietest mech held up the last sparkling. "We don't have a name for this little one yet," he said softly as he stroked the little one's helm with his thumb.
"Where did you find these?" Optimus took the wailing sparkling, who suddenly calmed down and blinked wearily up at Optimus. The Matrix thrummed in his chest and he smiled gently. He held him closer to it, looking around the room to find the answer.
"In the Dumpster out back," one of the soldiers (Mirage, who was the youngest) "They were sobbing and we heard them while we were exercizing, so we checked out the source, and there were sparklings in the Dumpster! Can you believe that?"
He sighed and he took the three sparklings away. The soldiers blinked at him sadly. "What? Do you think we can just keep them?"
"Well," Mirage started as he rubbed his helm.
"They can be comforters!" someone shouted, and the soldiers nodded in agreement.
Optimus looked down at the sparklings and he sighed. Anyone in this base had to be older than twenty-one million years old, and the mechs were not allowed to spark sparklings. Interfacing was encouraged, and sometimes Optimus Prime himself would find relief with his soldiers, but sparklings were not allowed.
"War babies," he grunted. He considered boxing them up again and hoping some homeless femme had left her sparklings there for safe keeping, but the sparklings were newborn, and hadn't been cleaned. The triplets were born, shoved in the box, and had imprinted on the soldiers. To take them away now would mean to make them orphans twice over. So he shook his digit. "If I hear one sob out of any of you about this, I'll restrict your Energon!"
The soldiers prepped themselves, and a few mechs closed their optics.
"I want you dirty bag of framework to take care of these fleas as if your lives depended on it."
Optimus was promptly tackled, and he laughed softly under the mechs. The sparklings were taken from him and bundled into gentle servos while another mech ran to retrieve a bucket of warm water.
The sparklings mostly enjoyed the water and being bathed. Red Alert sobbed louder and louder until he was finally passed off to Inferno, who was slightly older than Mirage. The sobbing sparkling soothed immediately and even laughed for the first time.
One of the soldiers rubbed his audio. "Either I'm deaf or Inferno made some magic happen with that kid's vocalizer."
Inferno chuckled down at the sparkling and he stroked his helm with his thumb, tickling his pedes with the corner of the rag. Red Alert giggled, and the soldiers prodded him.
"Ooooh, mated at first sight!"
"Shut up," Inferno grumbled, but he smiled at them. He laid Red Alert down on his pillow and he curled up on his bunk.
Perceptor was held in the bucket, and he splashed and laughed softly. He was a giggly little thing that trembled in delight and took an instant interest with datapads. He paddled his little pedes in the water and squeaked when he was taken away from the bucket. He squirmed and giggled in the towel, gripping the fabric and yawning softly as he fell asleep under the gaze of the troops.
The last sparkling was asleep in Optimus' servos, who was convinced this one had the spark of a medic. As soon as he whispered it to the sparkling, it twitched and mewed, curling its tiny servo around his digit. That was enough proof for Optimus, and he surrendered the little one to his field medic, Ratchet.
"Alright," he said as he clapped his servos. "Lights out in five. Interface with who you want. I will be in my office."
Ironhide followed Optimus to his office, and the larger mech sat down on his desk while the Prime stroked his face.
"It's too bad I can't spark ya."
"I know you would," he purred and he guided the mech onto his lap, kissing him and gently cupping his cheek.
In the morning, Optimus woke up with Ironhide still impaled, and he set him on his pedes after waking him up. "Let us check on the sparklings," he purred gently.
The troops were still sleeping. Most of the mechs were on the floor, tangled in several other arms of several mechs, and few mechs were exposed to their Prime. The sparklings were tucked in pillow cases and kept away from the fragging mechs.
Optimus woke his troops and helped them clean up themselves, the floor, and for reasons Optimus wasn't sure he wanted to know, the wall.
The sparklings were left to sleep while the mechs went out to train, who were going about it happily and quickly, and when Optimus dismissed them to shower, they were in and out so quickly Optimus didn't get to see his regular chair-mate in the shower. They were already tending to the fussing sparklings.
Optimus watched as he leaned in the doorway, smiling. He usually didn't let himself think this, but the thought slipped.
Everything will be okay.
Why would he think such a thing?
