Guilt was not a feeling Swindle was used to. He was a conmech and a damn good one. He took pride in his ability to trick others into giving him what he needed. Namely, credits. Lots and lots of credits. But he could admit, if only to himself, that this time he had gone too far.

He honestly hadn't planned on selling his brothers as spare parts. He had approached El Presidente to haggle for parts for Onslaught. He figured if his eldest brother was up and running then the tactician would have a plan to get the others back to Hook. How his original plan changed to selling his brothers was a little… fuzzy. Swindle remembered El Presidente mentioning it, promising that he would repossess all of the Cybertronian equipment he sold, and promising a good deal of money in exchange. But the safety of his family was the one thing that had never been for sale.

In the end, Swindle figured, it was probably the promise that he would get his brothers back unharmed, combined with the substantial payment, that had swayed him. He could see now that despite the huge profit it hadn't been worth it. He had lost his brothers' respect and trust.

Sighing, he knew that he couldn't avoid them forever. He had done so ever since they had returned, swapping shifts to make sure that he could recharge when they were on their own shifts. But his luck had run out, and he had no choice but to return to the Combaticons' shared quarters to recharge. He needed to before his next shift. Soundwave was going to be overseeing him and he did not want to mess up. He stood reluctantly, not meeting anyone's optics as he left the mess hall. He encountered no one in the halls, which was good. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with other mechs. The trip was too short, and he soon found himself standing in front of their living unit.

Swindle entered the unit quietly. His is brothers were livid with him right now and he didn't want to provoke them. Megatron had put them all on half-rations, given their failure against the Protectobots and Swindle's part in almost destroying Bruticus. Their leader had said that if they couldn't even manage their youngest teammate then they were banned from the battle field until he was under control; their lack of contribution to the army meant they only needed minimal rations. Or so Megatron decreed. And they were confined to the Nemesis until further notice. That was simply the rust flakes on the oil cake; his betrayal alone was sure to earn him a severe, ongoing punishment. Onslaught was very good at those.

He crept down the hall to the common room but paused when he saw the light peaking out under the door. He could hear voices inside.

"Little bastard loves his credits so much he should sell himself. Earn back some of our rations with his body, see how he likes it," Vortex muttered darkly. Brawl laughed. The sound was cruel and grating, and pierced Swindle's spark.

"Yeah. Swin definitely owes us. Motormaster was mouthin' off at me, thinkin' he's better than us. Sayin' that his team may be glitched but at least they are loyal. Had ta punch his face in to get him to shut the frag up."

"Che, Motormaster is a brute. That's the only reason those younglings fear him." Blast Off didn't take his optics off of his datapad. He said nothing about their wayward brother, though his optics were bright with anger. Vortex noticed immediately.

"Aw come on Blasty, even you have to admit you are pissed off at Swindle."

"Furious. And don't call me Blasty."

Swindle had heard enough. He slipped away quietly, not wanting his brothers to know he was spying. He was in enough trouble already. And they did have a point. He owed them so much. He was a liar and a cheat, but he had never, never meant to hurt his brothers. They were all he had, and he was lucky they had taken him back. Perhaps he should seriously consider Vortex's suggestion. He had made it too far down the hall to hear Onslaught say,

"That is enough. I do not care how angry you are. Swindle will be punished, but it will certainly not be with prostitution. If any of you even joke about it to Swindle you will serve triple his punishment. Am I clear?" Brawl look startled, while Vortex rolled his optics.

"Geez Ons, you make it sound like we were serious."

Swindle did recharge, but set his alarm to wake him early. He needed the time to think. He had possibly found a way to earn his brothers' forgiveness. If they suggested it to him he would comply without complaint. If not, he would do it anyway. He was nervous – it had been ages since his last interface – but he had crunched the numbers and knew that if he stuck to the plan then he could earn back enough credits to compensate for their energon loss in four quartex. He could do this. He just has to stick to the plan.

His first target was Scavenger. He knew that the digger was often overlooked in favor of his gestaltmates. He sought the Constructicon out after his shift with Soundwave, making sure to have a bright smile plastered on his face.

"Scavenger my mech! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Why?" The construction vehicle's tone was wary. Swindle pouted.

"I'm hurt. I approach you with the deal of the vorn, and you greet me with suspicion. Fine, I will take my deal elsewhere." The jeep turned away, counting on Scavenger's curiosity to get the better of him. Sure enough, he made it only five paces before Scavenger called him back.

"Fine, I'll bite. What's the deal?" Scavenger tried to look uninterested, but Swindle often had such interesting merchandise! It couldn't hurt to take a look.

"Well my friend, I have noticed that you seem rather… tense." Swindle idly traced a seam in the digger's side, demonstrating exactly what he meant by "tense". "Now I'm not a mech who likes to see his friends suffer," Scavenger snorted. Swindle carried on as though he hadn't heard, "So I am willing to fix your problem – for a fee, of course."

"Of course," Scavenger said skeptically. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. You 'face me, we both feel good and I earn a profit. As easy as that. Deal?" The Constructicon considered the outstretched hand. Swindle was being awfully blunt, but that was probably because the last time he had tangled with the Constructicons had gone poorly for him. Hook was vindictive and had waited a long time to get revenge. Swindle still wouldn't go to the medbay without one of his brothers. But it was true that the pair were kind of friends – they had bonded over being the youngest in their respective gestalts. As for the fee, well it had been a very long time since his last 'face that it would be worth it. Probably.

"Deal."

Swindle led the other mech to an unused storage room. He had managed to smuggle a berth into the room by bribing the mech on monitor duty to look the other way. He suppressed a shudder as he thought about the look Astrotrain had given him. That mech was scary smart even though he chose not to show it; the dealer knew to expect a visit from the trainformer soon. For now, however, he had a Constructicon to entertain.

"So here's the deal: four hundred credits for a full interface, two hundred for just oral, and five hundred and up if you want to throw in any fetishes." Scavenger stared blankly for a moment. Swindle sure loved his credits if he was willing to go that far to get them.

"Any fetishes?" Swindle honestly would have preferred to say no fetishes at all, but the Decepticons were kinky fraggers, and he knew he could make more by agreeing.

"Nothing that causes permanent damage or is life threatening. Beyond that, I don't care. The kinkier the fetish, the more it will cost you." Scavenger considered. Four hundred was high for a simple interface, but to imply that would insult Swindle, and he would lose his chance altogether. But he really, really did not want to explain to Scrapper and Hook where four hundred credits had gone. Pulling out a credit chip he handed it to the jeep. Swindle looked at it. Two hundred. Not the amount he needed, but a part of him was relieved. He could do this, no problem. If his smile was a little fake Scavenger didn't notice.

Edited to fit FFN Guidelines. Available on Ao3

"Frag you're good," the purple and green mech purred appreciatively.

"Of course I am!" Swindle boasted. A comm call from Bonecrusher interrupted anything else Scavenger might have said.

"Well, I've got to go. Pleasure doing business with you." Scavenger practically strutted from the room. As soon as the door shut the cheery grin slid off of Swindle's face. He was two hundred credits closer to forgiveness. That was all that mattered.