Oh dear lord… I never thought I would ever stoop this low, but I have. Male pregnancy. Bah. No one should be surprised that Terrorsaur and Waspinator are my victims. Arcane-Angel's prompt made me do it. At least this kind of scenario makes sense with the Transformers fandom, though. There are femmebots, but everyone's a freaking robot. Regardless as to whether or not a robot is "female" or "male" by definition, that should not stop a mech from becoming with spark. Its not like robots have genitals or sexually defining tidbits or anything. Aside from exterior structure, both femmes and mechs would be internally the same. They're pretty much asexual after all, right? That was the whole logic behind this piece, but I had a blast writing it despite the general weirdness factor. This one is my favorite hands down. Why? Well, with the consideration that this is my final piece for my three-shot fanfiction trade with Arcane-Angel, this is the only story that had a certain amount of slash that I was happy with. If you're confused about what a three-shot trade is and where those other two stories are, look in my story list for "Crosshairs" and "Claustrophobia."

Morning sickness, also called nausea gravidarum, nausea, vomiting of pregnancy (emesis gravidarum or NVP), or pregnancy sickness… One of the first signs of pregnancy…

~Wikipedia

Part three of a three-shot fanfiction trade with Arcane-Angel: Terrorsaur/Waspinator & Sparklings

i

Waspinator could only stare, lost for words.

Personally, he first noted there was something oddly wrong with Terrorsaur several weeks prior. Several weeks prior, both bondmates had been in the middle of an interface with their sparks thrust together when something had clicked inside of Terrorsaur's chest. Neither of them had paid it much heed as they were far too preoccupied with the whirring sensations of their bound sparks. The following morning, Waspinator had noticed something was first wrong when Terrorsaur slept in far later than usual. The crimson flier was a heavy sleeper to begin with, true, but that morning he hadn't even responded to Waspinator's prodding when the wasp got up, effectively tripped over his own two feet, and landed face first on the ground in an undignified heap of green and striped metal. The commotion itself was rather loud but Terrorsaur, sleeping like the dead, was entirely oblivious to it. Not wanting to disturb him, Waspinator thought it best to let him sleep and he discretely turned off his bondlink's telepathic connection with the other mech as to not accidentally stir him with his thoughts. He completed both of their shifts - Megatron was somewhere else at the time and entirely absent from his throne, so the tyrant couldn't chew Terrorsaur out for missing monitor duty - before heading back to their shared quarters. Upon walking in, Waspinator saw that Terrorsaur was awake… and the poor mech had been violently ill. The crimson flier sat kneeling over the wastebasket in the far corner of the room with his whole body convulsing and hunched over the steel bin while he purged his fuel tank of its fouled contents. Waspinator had stayed with him for the rest of the time that followed until he got well enough to stagger to his own two feet.

Waspinator reactivated his telepathic portion of the bondlink with the other mech. You all right?

Terrorsaur groaned lightly and leaned heavily against his mate where they sat on the berth together. Fine, he muttered. I've been better though.

Waspinator saw to it himself that the entire wastebasket was disposed of. Terrorsaur had stalked off to get something to eat - he complained that he was suddenly hungry before leaving his wingmate lover's side - and his thoughts were elsewhere while the wasp prepared to toss the contents of the basket into the lava pits below the main deck. They once had an incinerator on the ship, yes, but that had gone underneath the lava pits when the Darkside crashed into the energon rich planet. It was not as if it was a loss though. After all, the entire lower portion of the ship was a giant incinerator. The emerald Predacon stepped close to the shore of a lava pool as though it were a malevolent beach and he almost threw it in before he noticed something peculiar… the energon in the wastebasket was not fouled at all. It was partially processed but did not look like it was tainted. That ruled out food poisoning, for one. Waspinator recalled that he also had energon from the same vat as Terrorsaur had. He hadn't felt sick at all, and this left the wasp puzzled as to why Terrorsaur's body refused the nourishment as aggressively as it had.

His mate felt his concern and he spoke through their link. My body just has a minor bug is all. Nothing a little extra recharge won't fix.

How are you feeling now? Waspinator did not give a second thought when he tossed the wastebasket into the fiery pool. It sank out of sight with a gurgled sizzling.

Terrorsaur's voice was slightly more energized now, though there was a hint of exhaustion clinging to the corners of his tone. Much better, he said.

Except that he didn't get better.

Terrorsaur was sick again once more that night - this time off the side of the ship thankfully, as they had both been outside perched on the hull of the downed vessel for some fresh air - and Waspinator had to help him walk down to their quarters. Terrorsaur was complaining that he was hungry again. He did not get sick anymore after that, he was almost constantly hungry. Waspinator often found that he had to share his own rations with his bondmate to curve his hunger and, while he did not necessarily mind it, he was becoming worried. Terrorsaur was at a loss as to where his ravenous sense of hunger had come from and he tried his best to ignore it. That attempted endeavor had failed miserably. Once while they were hunting the planet's organic life forms to satisfy the metabolisms of their beast-modes, Terrorsaur took down two fully grown moose bucks at the same time and ate them straight down to the bone in a single sitting. Waspinator could barely finish the one doe deer he caught. It was always known as a general rule of thumb that Waspinator had a ridiculous appetite with a stomach made of steel - this was meant figuratively, of course - but Terrorsaur's sense of it left Waspinator absolutely confounded. It was as if the flier was eating for two and not one.

That thought made Waspinator particularly nervous. He ignored it to the best of his ability. The "best of his ability" was not very good at all. Other than being a professional walking jigsaw puzzle, let it be known he was not very skilled with anything… Terrorsaur had beamed at him once or twice through their bond to say he was great on a recharge plate, but that was a different matter all together.

At least a week had passed since Terrorsaur's bout of morning sickness and drastic appetite change. After that first week, Terrorsaur still was not getting better. Now he had gone from having an extreme metabolism to also having problems sleeping. His insomnia was not terrible for the first few days but, by the end of the week, there were many nights that he spent pacing aimlessly back and forth in their room before retiring to bed. Even then, sleep still came hard to him. One evening, Waspinator clocked the time from when Terrorsaur laid himself out on their shared berth and the time it took the crimson flier to enter recharge was four megacycles. The most amount of sleep he ever got was three hours. The least, to Waspinator's dread, was twenty minutes. This made Terrorsaur just as sluggish as snappy. One day, when Scorponok said "good morning" to the both of them in as friendly of a tone as he could muster, Waspinator had to restrain Terrorsaur from lunging at the scorpion mechanic in beast-mode with his wings flailing and beak snapping in blind fury.

To say that Megatron had been less than pleased with the fiasco was an indirect understatement.

Terrorsaur was put under house but, even while he was forced to reside within his quarters, he still couldn't rest. Waspinator was deeply concerned that part of this had to do with the fact that he was suffering from the effects of being unable to go outside - next to his fear of seeing Waspinator hurt during battles, Terrorsaur was absolutely terrified of being confined within enclosed spaces for too long - but that turned out to be the least of his problems. Terrorsaur's health suddenly seemed to drop out from underneath him like a fissure tearing open in the earth. One minute, Waspinator was able to feel Terrorsaur through their bondlink perfectly fine… that was, at least, until the wasp felt agony rip through Terrorsaur on the other side of the bond. Then the link completely cut out.

Waspinator nearly mowed Inferno and Scorponok over while he raced back his and Terrorsaur's shared room. Inferno and Scorponok followed him out of the irritation that he had nearly run them over, but that anger turned to extreme worry when they saw how spooked Waspinator was. Both of Megatron's lieutenants followed Waspinator and all three reached the wingmates' shared room in less than a cycle. Waspinator kicked the door down - it was never a wise thing to underestimate his strength when panicked. The moment's terror was certainly no exception to the rule - and all three of them found Terrorsaur sprawled out on the ground in a crumpled heap. He was not breathing. Horror lanced through all three mechs, but the horror was so much more potent in Waspinator. He almost couldn't remember what happened next. The wasp recalled diving forward and cradling Terrorsaur to his chest and then, the next thing he knew, he was unfocusedly watching from the sidelines in trembling terror while Scorponok administered CPR. Inferno had run off to alert the others. No one else was needed thankfully, because Scorponok managed to bring Terrorsaur back from the brink. The pale mech gasped and his straggling spark started to burn normally again. He was unconscious.

Scorponok sat up and asked Waspinator to help him lift Terrorsaur onto the berth. Waspinator helped him automatically. His mind was still in a haze from the near loss of his bondmate, but then the sound of the red flier returning to snapped him out of his daze once and for all.

Terrorsaur's normally screeched voice was a quiet rasp and his eyes were closed. "What happened?" Through the bondlink, Waspinator blearily felt him reach out to him and Waspinator sent him a reassuring pulse of adoration. Terrorsaur responded back, though the returning pulse was weak.

Scorponok spoke. "Cardiac arrest," he said just as Inferno raced in. The fire ant looked just about ready to hurl the water bucket he was holding at Terrorsaur's face but Megatron thankfully stopped him. The tyrant ducked into the room and stood off to the side to look his downed red flier over. The Predacon leader asked him how he felt.

"Like slag," Terrorsaur replied. He was not strong enough to respond to the tyrant with a biting tone.

Waspinator, unable to take the strain anymore, suddenly broke out into tears. He said nothing out loud, but he was blubbering through his bondlink almost obsessively. Primus in the Pitt, I thought I lost you.

Terrorsaur tried to smile reassuringly, but the effect was lost on his tired face.

Megatron announced that the CR chambers weren't up and running due to the maintenance the spiders were running on them - both Tarantulus and Blackarachnia were far too hard at work to care as to whether or not Terrorsaur died, so that was why they hadn't showed up when Megatron and Inferno had - but the tyrannosaurus Predacon said that they'd be up at full capacity again in the morning. Waspinator agreed to be the one to take Terrorsaur to use them. In the meantime and throughout the rest of the night, Waspinator stayed up all through the evening and into the early megacycles of the morning keeping a vigilant optic on his sickly bondmate. Terrorsaur, for once in a very long time, deeply slept. It was probably the best sleep he had gotten in what seemed to be a long time. Through their link, Waspinator could feel him dreaming about the both of them spending a lazy afternoon sunbathing out on the cliff tops of the mountain within the Predacon sector, Tanna-16. It was a lovely part of their territory with foliage, a pristine lake, a beautiful view of the sunset…

Something clicked and, out of nowhere, Waspinator saw a random tiny spark flitter out of nowhere. He thought maybe it was a butterfly at first, but then he clearly saw it was an infant newspark.

Waspinator was suddenly so greatly disturbed that he almost temporarily muted his bondlink. He did not have to though, because Terrorsaur woke up with a start and in a cold sweat. He looked at Waspinator with bleary optics and, after regaining some of his bearings, he demanded that his bondmate take him to the CR chamber. Waspinator obliged readily and without objection.

That was how Waspinator found himself lightly setting his lover down on one of the CR platforms before stepping off and allowing the lift to submerge his mate into the rejuvenating liquids of the tank. Once the computer reported that the sedatives had knocked his mate out, he entered the codec on the tub's holographic screen to begin screening for malfunctions. The computer was somewhat sizzled from lava fume and heat damage, so the overall scanning process took an entire hour longer than it should have. Once it was all done, it blipped to signal the scan had completed and Waspinator was on his feet looking over the results displayed on the monitor. He did this in under a millisecond.

What he saw baffled him. Waspinator could only stare, lost for words.

With the scan and repair cycle complete, the lift to the CR tank rose and Terrorsaur was sprawled out on it as though he had just been shot down mid-battle. Seeing his mate in such a venerable position worried Waspinator immensely - even with the consideration he had just gone through the restoration chamber for a full repair cycle - but the wasp was greatly reassured when he sat up and managed to force himself into a kneeling position. The wasp noticed that he had dark circles under his optics. Waspinator couldn't recall whether he had gotten them only just recently or not. Terrorsaur's voice was harsh. "What's up, doc?"

"Wazzpinator… thinks that maybe Terror-bot should not look yet." I think something's off with the machinery, love. Tarantulus and Blackarachnia might not have rebooted the system core on this particular CR, or at least they didn't do it correctly. I'd feel much more comfortable if we scanned you again. Waspinator greatly hoped his physical and mental voice would help soothe his mate.

It did not work. Terrorsaur snarled irritably. "Let me see it."

Waspinator razzed nervously and spared a look at his partner. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and lightly bit down on the insides of his metallic cheeks to keep from worrying his wingmate with his worried tone of voice. "Not yet. Wazzpinator thinks machine might be broken."

With a highly irritated sigh of discontent - and perhaps even panic, Waspinator presumed - Terrorsaur roughly stood. He was barely able to keep his own balance and his knees nearly buckled underneath him in his weakened state. Regardless to the fact that he had been in the CR chamber for the past megacycle while it both repaired and performed the diagnostic program for his systems that Waspinator was previously left in charge of running, the scarlet flier was still sickly looking. His optics were half closed in his exhaustion, his movements were sluggish, and he looked oddly malnourished. Waspinator was half ready to dive to his wingmate's aid if he collapsed, but Terrorsaur was able to erect himself before he could. The crimson pterodactyl almost drunkenly staggered over to the console to stand by Waspinator. "Frag you. Let me see it." I need to see it, Waspy. I'll beg if I have to.

Love… "Terror-bot will freak," Waspinator tried to convince. The wasp raised his wings in mild dread. Terrorsaur was certainly smarter than he was in every sense of the way and, granted, if he - the dumb little wasp that he was - was able to make out what the diagnostics screen read on Terrorsaur's condition, Terrorsaur would have undoubtedly been able to fully understand as well.

Coping, however, was an entirety different matter all together. Waspinator was positive that Terrorsaur would definitely either have a panic attack or have a conniption. Perhaps he'd have both at once. Maybe he'd even go into cardiac arrest, but then Waspinator nearly choked on that thought and he forcibly shoved it aside… speaking of getting shoved aside, Waspinator found that he was suddenly shoved aside. He staggered sideways but couldn't regain his bearings in time to stop Terrorsaur from reading the data on the screen. Waspinator bit his lip and studied his lover's features critically, gauging them for hints of a reaction. He saw none. Terrorsaur read over the data very patiently and his shoulders sagged in a gesture very uncharacteristic of him.

Terrorsaur's voice was light when he spoke. "Computer, read diagnosis out loud, medium low volume."

The feminine drone of the Predacon computer AI droned back. "Unit Terrorsaur detected carrying two sparks. Second spark scanned and confirmed to be devolving newspark. Energy signature matches both unit Terrorsaur and unit Waspinator. Health deterioration of unit Terrorsaur calculated to be directly linked to leeching newspark. Extreme Warning: Mother spark is unstable. Danger, danger, danger. Chances of survival into rejection stage, less than thirty percent and falling. Recommend action: Immediate abortion. Danger, danger, danger. Chances of survival into rejection state, less than thirty percent and falling. Danger, danger, danger…"

The femme computer would have continued if Terrorsaur hadn't reached forward and deactivated the monitor. When he lowered his hand and clenched his fists at his side, Waspinator could see he was shaking. The wasp tentatively reached forward. Love?

"I'm not going to kill her," Terrorsaur said defiantly, though whether or not he was trying to console Waspinator or himself was lost on the wasp as he approached and wrapped his arms around his trembling mate's waist. With that, Terrorsaur promptly turned and drove his face against Waspinator's chest. Through the link, he was muttering incessant nothings about not letting the sparkling die.

What about you? Waspinator couldn't help his worry from seeping into his voice. That did not help Terrorsaur any.

The red flier shuddered very lightly in his weakened state, and his voice was just as pathetic sounding through their link as it was in the physical world. I'll be fine. It's not me I'm worried about. Mechs… since when was the last time a mech was recorded carrying a sparkling? Wasn't that back during the Great War? Primus, that was nearly two hundred stellar cycles ago… what if my body can't handle it? What if I accidentally kill her?

What if she accidentally kills you? Waspinator couldn't stop from sounding cynical. He instinctively hugged his bondmate tighter to his body and Terrorsaur seemed to return the gesture with his already fleeting strength. Then something dawned on him. You said it was a her.

Call it intuition.

Waspinator shuddered. Primus, what are we going to do? That thing-

SHE.

She's killing you, Terrorsaur! Waspinator razzed out loud in his rising frustration. Without even realizing they had done it, both mechs had sunk to the floor so that they were kneeling on the warm metal floor of the Darkside's ebony interior. Waspinator buried his face in his partner's neck and nuzzled into his throat. You're dying and you already nearly died once on me already. You have to abort it, Terrorsaur. It'll be the death of you.

Terrorsaur did not react right away. Slowly, like water trickling through a small crack devolving in the walls of his mind, Waspinator felt the other mech thinking back to his own childhood. His absent father, his abusive mother Firehawk… the cruel femme had wanted to abort him, Waspinator remembered. That sent as much of am agonized pang through Terrorsaur's body as it did Waspinator's. Then it dawned on Waspinator why the red mech was suddenly so adamant on having the sparkling. He wanted to give it what he never had. Love, a kind mother…

A father.

Waspinator thought that maybe that was Terrorsaur's thought, but then the wasp realized with a start that it was none other than his own.

Terrorsaur lifted his head and pressed his face against his lover's throat. He planted a light kiss there before speaking through the link. I won't die on you. For all those times you've been slagged, you've never died on me and now this is my chance to return the favor and give something back. She… the damn little bitlet, she flares every time I see you. She's proof that what we have together is real. Please, I need you for this. He planted another kiss, except this one somehow found itself planted right on the front of Waspinator's mandibles. They pulled away from one another, faltered only for a second, and then they kissed again. Lightly. Carefully. Lovingly.

Waspinator readily decided that he would be there. He found that he was suddenly lost for words again, but that did not matter.

Fin