I know people are going to ask what universe this fic is set in either because I'm confusing them or because they can't figure it out right away before they review, so here it is: This came to me in the bathroom: All branches of Transformers are connected.

I mean, of course they are. Helloooooo, duh. But what I mean is, G1 comes first, then Bayverse, then Prime (I'm only doing the line up from what I know and love and breathe, but there'll be the MTMTE Tailgate and Cyclonus in here, even though I have no clue about what branch they are in so I am bound to get some errors. But from what I've seen (*cough* Images of Cyclonus and Tailgate cuddling and Tailgate complaining Cyclonus stopped singing or something and some snippets from an actual page of Rodimus being Rodimus *cough*), it's just like G1. Soooo, I'm going to treat it like G1. Don't judge me, reader XD. I told you I didn't know much of anything.

And think about it. G1 episodes Changing Gears and Megatron's Master Plan mirror the second and third Bayverse movies. Think about it! Solar Needle in G1, Ancient Device That Destroys Suns in Bayverse, Autobots get kicked off Cybertron and head towards the sun to blow up in G1, Autobots get kicked off Cybertron and "blow up" in Bayverse... And the first movie and the first episodes tie in because it's the Introductory (a fancy term I made up trying to explain my theory to a bunch of other people, I know it's gorgeous and completely original), and check out the last names: Sam Witwicky from Bayverse, Spike (*giggle*) and Sparkplug Witwicky from G1...see it? As for Transformers Prime, didn't Optimus say that it has been about six years or something since they last saw Megatron? That's a weak stick to stand on, but I'm standin' on it! And then RiD comes after TFP. That's confirmed, dude XD So brace yourselves for made up scrap to fill in the gaps.

So here it goes. As far as you know, there is no universe. This is Alex Irvine-verse. This is the "I'm putting crap together without knowing what I'm doing" verse. This is my world, where everything has a place and nothing makes sense.

Rodimus knew Cyclonus wouldn't transition well. Neither had the Sweeps (Squeeps, Wheeljack would correct with a grin and a round of drunk giggles from his buddies) and Scourge, who had faded and slowly died without Galvatron to keep their helms up. Galvatron had in fact been saved from his worst insanity and corrected so that he was Megatron once again. Optimus' plan was that Megatron would defect, turn away from his deceiving, insane ways and become nice and gentle and an Autobot.

He didn't. He focused his sights back on Earth and took off, leading Optimus, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Ironhide and Jazz back to old stomping grounds. Arcee, Hound, a new mech called Crosshairs, Drift, and Wheeljack were in hot pursuit, but it would be a few decades before they arrived. Ultra Magnus was leaving a little later, much to Rodimus' disappointment.

Although the Matrix had been taken away from him and replaced in Optimus' chest, the whole I'm Hot Rod again thing didn't go over well, so he remained Rodimus, without Prime quickly tailing after his name with comma-sir on its heels. Everyone liked Rodimus better than Hot Rod anyway. First Aid took a poll.

Rodimus was jolted back to the present when Cyclonus growled slightly. "Why have you come here?"

Cyclonus had taken up residence in the main room of the Autobot command base. He was doomed to drift around the room before settling back on the couch and glaring down at the floor. At least he was vibrant purple and still knew grammar. The Sweeps faded fast and only communicated through growls and biting before Tailgate walked in and found them all dead on the floor. The little mech would often crawl into someone else's berth after he was plagued by nightmares, which was fine. Rodimus liked the little thing in his berth. It reminded him of Daniel.

"I wanted to give you this." He held out his servos, cupped them. There was a pile of Energon goodies there, something he knew Cyclonus would appreciate. It was rich High Grade, and had the nice snap that could only be described as licorice-like that kept the Autobots from gobbling them down. Three was enough for any bot, but not for a con like Cyclonus. He could eat an entire bowl full of the goodies, and he had before to everyone's amazement.

Cyclonus looked at the goodies in his servos and he slowly cupped his servos to accept them, his optics carefully drawn down and dimmed to hide his emotions. When he was sure Rodimus wasn't going to pull them back, he set the cubes on his lap and ate them like he had never refueled before. Rodimus sat across from him on the other couch, the one Tailgate would frequently lounge in after being run all over creation. Cyclonus neither welcomed nor despised the little mech, though the mech was fond of clawing at himself and at others that were unwelcome. First Aid was too busy to tend to his wounds, too busy fixing similar wounds to be bothered with a five-minute buffer.

Rodimus reached over and made the worst mistake in his life. He empathised with the Decepticon. Cyclonus stopped eating to glare at the mech, and the next thing Rodimus knew was that the couch he was sitting on was now holding his spinal strut parallel to the floor and his helm had rebounded off the cold metal. "Primus, you're strong," he muttered.

Cyclonus' reply was a grunt and the sound of him sucking the sticky fuel off his digits before he slowly rolled over on his side and fell asleep.

Rodimus escaped, saving himself from further injury. He was headed to First Aid's MedBay, but he reeled back at the line and instead slipped into the RecRoom, or rather The Bar.

If you stood in the doorway and faced the wall opposite you, to your right was the counter, behind which stood Seekers spinning bottles of High Grade for show and for tips. There was a string of mechs on the stools there, but sitting in the furthest chair all the way across the room was Ultra Magnus, sighing at his Low Grade.

"Hi, Rodimus!" cried Warble, a Seeker with a habit of talking everyone's audios off. He was a Seeker, but it was a different species from a different world dependant on sight and sound. As a result, Warble and his trinemates were bright and colorful, had huge optics and sensitive audios. They were very pretty, very vocal, and very intelligent. He, Burble, and Gurgle were supposed to be guards, but they ended up being entertainment for everyone.

Rodimus nodded at the Seeker, who was trembling and eager to talk to the mech, but Rodimus was busy. He held up a single digit and Burble, the only femme in Warble's trine, ran up to him and held out a cube of High Grade, just as he had ordered daily for months. He took the cube and plopped down across from Ultra Magnus.

"Feeling okay?"

Ultra Magnus lifted his optics away from his cube. "I am concerned for Cyclonus."

Cyclonus seemed to be on everybot's processor. Is Cyclonus okay? How is Cyclonus? Does Cyclonus need anything? Rodimus sighed and nodded. "I was wondering if we should give him a role in this base, something easy and helpful."

"He could tend to the sparklings."

They had one Seekerling and a sparkling that had once had a twin. They were trouble, half-Decepticon, and a pain to care for. The Seekerling was limp and sad from the loss of her siblings and carrier, and the twin was vicious and loved to bite the digits that fed it.

Ultra Magnus wasn't being mean when he said Cyclonus should care for them. He was merely reminding Rodimus that a job needed doing. Rodimus nodded a little.

Cyclonus was awake when Rodimus walked back into the room. He lifted his helm and snorted.

"Cyclonus, I have a job for you."

His optics softened and he rose from his couch and stumbled slightly as he took his first steps in several months.

"Yes?"

Rodimus smiled a little and led him down to the nursery. Cyclonus watched the Seekerling lay still and the mechling growl and run around its crib, chewing on the bars and himself. He lifted it, letting it chew on his digits. "This little mechling is merely playing. He is not biting as hard as he could, nor does he want anyone to feel pain." He watched the sparkling, very gently stroking its helm until he fell asleep. Then he turned to the Seekerling, who gave a shuddering breath and then laid still again.

"This one has lost everything," he sighed and he cupped the Seekerling. "Where is its carrier?"

"Dead."

"And the sire?"

"Unknown."

Cyclonus sighed. "Probably also dead..." He bent over the femme, stroking her helm and wings. "Little one...are you hungry?" He opened his servo at Rodimus and wiggled his claws. Rodimus laid a pipet filled with Energon in his waiting palm. Cyclonus glanced at it once before he poked the end under her lip and squeezed the bulb. Three little drops of Energon stained her denta and he rubbed her throat.

She wheezed.

"Mm. Little femmes like you love this stuff, but of course they love the sweet stuff." Cyclonus shook the pipet in front of her. "Maybe if you start behaving, you will get some sweet Energon."

She swallowed, and her jaw relaxed so that her mouth fell open a fraction and her glossa poked out. Cyclonus dripped more Energon into her mouth, and she swallowed until she drank everything out of the pipet. Her belly was bulging with the fuel, and Cyclonus laid her down gently on the soft pillow they were using to cradle her.

Rodimus was staring at him in wonder. "How did you do that?"

"I know Seekers, Rodimus. Don't look at me like that." Cyclonus passed him the pipet and sighed. "Alright. I'll help you raise these things, but I require full access to supplies, and the MedBay. I would like two tubs, two heating pads, and an alarm clock. The one with servos, not the flashing numbers. I need two of those, actually, three tiny blankets, and as many water balloons as you can manage. Otherwise I won't do it."

Rodimus wrote all the requests down and passed the datapad to Bladetoss, who ran it to Ultra Magnus. "May I ask why?"

"Why bother? You'll find out as soon as I get those supplies."

ooo

Cyclonus was bent over the tubs, stuffing the heating pads into them and laying the femme's pillow down in one and the mechling's blanket down in the other. He was either unaware he had an audience or he didn't care. He filled the water balloons with warm water, wrapped them into blankets, and laid two with the femme and one with the sleeping mechling. By their helms sat the alarm clocks, the ticking making the mechling relax and the femme twitch. He frowned down at the sparklings and he slowly sat back to watch them. "No guarantee they'll survive."

The others watched the sparklings cuddle up to the blanket-wrapped balloons, they're optics wide as they sighed a little. Sparklings were the future. If they lost sparklings, they lost sight of the future.

Rodimus stood in front of him. "Promise that you'll take care of them."

Cyclonus glared at him. "To the best of my ability. But no promises."

I honestly have no idea what I'm doing with this. I just started typing and I couldn't stop.