Author's Notes: This fic was inspired by bowsie22's fic: To Bond or Not to Bond?, with a similar idea of another mech stealing Prowl's mate, but with some differences and a little more focus on Bluestreak.
Sorry for the poor narration, the sequence of events and timeline are quite messy and skewed respectively and I didn't name the characters much, so you might have to guess whose POV the scene's from. But I meant to make you do that (the guessing part).
I do not own Transformers.
Bond
Pure and unconditional love was the first thing he felt when he became aware. The emotion was strong and never failed to soothe and comfort him. Eventually he began to recognise and later differentiate the two sources of this love. They were a constant since he could remember.
Jazz and Prowl leaned into each other, smiling as they watched the sparkling recharge soundly in his crib. His doorwings would twitch occasionally, but he merely shifted into a more comfortable position and continued to recharge.
"I still can't believe it Prowler... is that sparkling really ours?" whispered Jazz, optics never leaving the small grey mech in front of them.
"Yes Jazz, he is." One arm slid around the saboteur's waist and pulled him closer.
"Didn't think you'd spark... it didn't seem possible – not that I regret it. Things just aren't going to be the same in the base anymore, after Ratchet and Optimus tells them."
"We will deal with it when it comes then. But for now, perhaps we could decide on his designation?"
"Hmm, he's really active when he's awake, not like now when he's recharging. And he makes lots of sparkling talk too."
"How about... Bluestreak?"
No one knew they were bonded, though almost everyone was sure the two would get together eventually. It came as a shocking surprise when they announced the arrival of Bluestreak, but everyone welcomed him and warmly congratulated the newly discovered couple.
All but one mech.
He had had his optics on him for a long time. His desire and feelings for him had grown ever since they were first introduced. They had worked on the same team countless times, he knew everything about him, on and off missions.
The betting pool was a constant source of frustration. He had loathed the thought of that perfect mech in the arms of a cold, unfeeling glitch. When it was announced that they had produced a sparkling, he knew what had to be done.
Soundwave had always enjoyed "playing" with the Autobot tactician.
The constant was no longer. One source had abruptly disappeared.
It had suddenly became fainter while the other, though still sending waves of love and comfort frequently, had started to radiate despair.
He had never received such feelings and emotions before. It was something very new and disturbing. Never had any one of the sources let him feel frightened or sad. But the moment he cried out, his spark would be flooded with love and comfort again.
When the weakening source had vanished and he had cried, the other did not soothe him, but had joined in on the pain and sadness that flowed through them both.
The sheer reality of "his" situation made "him" purge "his" tanks. Comfort and support from Elita and her team was appreciated, but it didn't change anything.
That Decepticon had interrogated him for information and resorted to the most painful methods that even he was unaware existed. Megatron had seen the results of his officer's fruitless efforts and after running out of patience, suggested another use for him instead, one that had evoked varying reactions but a general agreement.
The modification had been torture in itself. No sedative or pain-relievers were administered. His armour was simply torn off and his wires slashed and reworked. His anguished screams earned him more pain which occasionally sent him into stasis lock. There was no use sending anything through the bond to relieve the pain, however tempting or risky it may have been. It had been tampered with, severely weakened and later manually blocked.
When it was complete, "he" had been roughly thrown into a cell to let "his" internal systems repair "him" before a lucky Decepticon would enter and have some "fun".
If it wasn't for Elita's infiltration team sent in to gather intelligence before the first session could begin, Prowl was sure he would have deactivated "himself".
A long time passed before he felt another connection. He had two sources again, but the new one was completely different. No love or any sort of affection came from it, only disgust and hatred. It was channelled only to him and bypassed his other parent, so he was unaware and didn't believe him when the issue was brought up and discussed. By then he had learnt to manipulate the bond however, and had thus shut out the new source, leaving the first original one in place and blocking any negative emotions from the other.
His father spoke fondly of his mother and shared many memories with him. He still misses him terribly but hides his sorrow. It seeps through their bond sometimes, and he finds himself missing him as well. He knew what he looked like, Jazz had shown him pictures. The real thing was much preferable though.
Elita and Chromia had tried their best to calm her down. She was clearly distraught after the experience and longed to return to her mate and youngling, but the intelligence gathered from the now destroyed base was less than pleasant.
They had a traitor amongst their ranks but had no concrete evidence of it. Part of the information downloaded had been infected with a virus and corrupted, leaving them only with the account of the intelligence team who had looked through the data as it was transferred.
The motive wasn't even believable. Selling out the SIC and ultimately the Autobots for his mate? That move would have been disastrous and cost them valuable information if the Decepticons were able to extract it.
What was to be their next step?
It had worked like a charm. He got his new mate, the Decepticons got their toy and everybody was satisfied.
Mostly.
Consoling his new mate after Megatron contacted the Autobots with a mock apology for breaking their tactician and presenting large chunks of his armour as a visual display was not easy, but he had more tricks under his wires. It took a long while, but they eventually bonded.
Bluestreak was an optic-sore to him. He was a constant reminder of his deeds. Never hesitating to direct whatever frustrations and anger to him, he was still able to keep his mate in the dark about it. To everyone, Prowl had been ambushed while on patrol, captured, tortured and killed.
Megatron had been quick to announce it before a rescue team could be deployed.
They were treading on dangerous ground. The traitor was one of the command staff and holding a key position. If there was any accusation against anyone in there the entire army would be affected. The loss of their SIC was already a hard blow to their forces. But the more important thing was the lack of evidence. Even the motive was questionable.
Contacting Optimus and informing him of the truth would be the best option, but again, there was the lack of evidence and questionable motive. Surely he could trust his bonded?
Prowl could also return to their base and reveal the truth herself, but who was to ascertain that this was the former SIC? Her appearances had been altered drastically, she was now a femme, black and blue (both literally and figuratively), and her bond was still too weak to be used. They could wait until it was stronger, but who knew what other crimes the traitor might commit if they didn't act soon?
It was best not to think about it. They had to act now.
If they thought they could outsmart him, they had another think coming.
There was no way they could have found out it was him. Even if they had, he had covered his tracks well. They would have no concrete evidence to use against him. He had access to the security tapes and had already removed his conversation with Soundwave from the system.
It was rather obvious that the new femme on Elita's team was that wretched tactician. The Decepticons must really have enjoyed him to have kept him for so long and left him in that state. If they were trying to convince Prime...
Time for Plan B.
It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.
The plan had been to sneak into the base without anyone seeing Prowl. Optimus had been notified of their arrival and made arrangements to clear an area of the base for their entrance to meet them personally. He was supposed to question Prowl to confirm "his" identity before listening to their information about the traitor.
Instead, the pit spawn himself had barged into the room and openly fired his own accusations at the startled femme, pulling up all sorts of false information about her being the actual traitor and assasin sent to kill the two commanders when they met. Claims about the meeting being a trap and the dangerous nature of the femme poured forth as the mech raved on.
There was disbelief at first, but after replaying the conversation with Soundwave with the other party sounding like a femme, which she strongly suspected was actually his work, Optimus had shoved her behind him and the two mechs had pointed their weapons at the "traitor".
Arcee and Moonracer had tried to defend Prowl but were pushed aside by the mech as he locked on to her.
All pit broke loose after that.
He didn't know the exact details, just that there was an armed and dangerous Decepticon running loose in their base. A search team had been quickly assembled and they were hunting the enemy down.
One of the officers had told him that after a failed assassination of Optimus and Elita, the femme had just turned tail and fled. As that section of the base had been cleared by order of their leader for unknown purposes, their target could be anywhere. Fanning out to widen their search, he and a few others were sent outside the base should she have managed to escape.
As one of the best gunners in the Autobot forces, he was well-known for his aim. But to develop aim, sight was a vital tool, one which he was currently using to track the femme running into an underground tunnel concealed by rocks a good distance away.
Whether Optimus wanted to lecture her on her carelessness or hold her tight after nearly losing her, she couldn't care at the moment.
Prowl was in serious danger of getting killed by her own comrades while the true traitor was smirking away in the corner. She would have shot him if it didn't reveal that she knew the truth. It was best to expose him later while covering their tracks for the moment. The only way was to get Prowl to a safe place while she and her team acted dumb and innocent. Reputation didn't matter at this time.
Prowl did.
: Elita to Firestar, the mission is a failure. Proceed with the backup plan. :
: Copy that. Firestar out. :
Jazz wrapped his arms around Bluestreak as he sobbed into his shoulder. He was about to call his mate to help but Bluestreak was adamant about keeping this from him.
"Blue, what's the matter?" he asked soothingly, sending waves of comfort and love through their bond as they sat on his berth.
The grey gunner choked on his tears as he tried to answer. The saboteur gently rubbed his back as Bluestreak leaned further in. He had returned from the search mission and went straight to Jazz, not even pausing to let him react to his state before breaking down in his room.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was her because she looked so different than in the pictures you showed me of him and I think he got reformatted into a femme because I know who he is but he's a she now and –"
"Whoa, slow down there! Who are you talking about? Was it that Decepticon? She got out of the base?"
"Yeah, I saw her going into the underground tunnels not too far from the base and she was moving fast so I didn't have time to call for backup as I tried to go after her because I thought I could catch up and take her on myself without –"
"Did she hurt you? Do you need to see Ratchet?" Jazz tone became increasingly concerned at his creation's state. What had happened in the tunnels?
Bluestreak shook his head. "I didn't even get a scratch but I shot her and she fell down, then I walked towards her and she... there was..."
He cried harder as Jazz rocked him slowly. His optics widened as Bluestreak told his story.
A single shot rang out and its echo clashed with a pained cry and the sound of a frame crashing to the ground. As always, he hadn't missed. The black and blue femme was struggling to get up as energon bled out of a hole in her thigh. He hadn't shot her in the spark, though he could have aimed to do so.
She turned and looked at him. Her optics were not filled with fear, but with pain, sadness and... was that recognition? He had moved closer to her and pointed his gun at her spark when he felt something.
It was so long ago, too long ago that he had experienced this feeling. He recognised the love and affection coming from his... bond? Was it Jazz?
No, Jazz felt different. This one couldn't be his other parent. He would never love him. So how –
He lowered his gun as he took a step back, a shocked expression on his face plates. The feeling was familiar, albeit faint. It was love and affection, but tinged with an identity. There had been a time when he could tell the difference between two sources of love, and that was when –
The femme was smiling now. She had gotten up in his shock and rested her weight on her uninjured leg as she looked at him. She didn't move or attack. Dare he?
"M-mother?"
"Look at how much you've grown. I'm so proud of you, Bluestreak."
The love coming from her was overwhelming. His spark latched on to it, unwilling to let go, but there were still traces of disbelief. "I-is it really you?"
A small chuckle. "Yes, it is. I heard you're one of the best gunners on base. Jazz has raised you well."
Rocks rained from the ceiling of the tunnels as a loud explosion sounded and rocked the caves. Both of them stumbled as they tried to regain their footing.
"Mother!" He had taken a step forward with one arm outstretched to get to her, but she shook her head and stepped back.
"I have to go. Do not follow me."
"What?! Why? I just met you! Please stay, come back with me to –"
"No, there is a traitor among you. I'll be as good as deactivated if I return to base."
"Who is it? We have to let Prime know!"
"We've tried that, it didn't work."
"But –"
"Bluestreak, trust me on this. I'll explain everything, just not right now."
"Where can I find you?"
"...I'll be with Elita. But do not disclose this information. Promise me."
He nodded frantically. Tears fell down the femme's face as she kept limping backwards, still smiling at her creation.
"Goodbye Bluestreak."
"Mother! Come back!"
But the ceiling had already collapsed, burying the space between them and effectively sealing the tunnel's mid-section.
The bond had flooded briefly with a strong surge of love before it faded entirely.
: Firestar to Elita. The operation was successful. Collapse of the tunnels have secured Prowl's escape. She's with us at base now. :
: Good work. We're on our way back. Elita out. :
He had left out his mother's location for her safety, but he desperately wanted to let his father know. It wasn't fair to keep it from him. His other parent was another matter though.
Jazz had also started to cry. Father and son hugged tightly as they prayed for Prowl. They couldn't do anything to help her at the moment. But if they could, they would.
Bluestreak would see to it.
Author's Notes 2: The traitor is meant to be unknown because I really don't know which Autobot to call one. As for the ending, apologies if it's too abrupt or not properly tied off. I wasn't sure how to end it off nicely.
Reviews and/or criticisms (preferably constructive ones) are welcome. Thank you.
Refracted Imagination, logging out.