In the light of the Moon
Even to her, there were some things about the fire-hued twins that were a mystery. But the rest was not. Moonlight turned her sky blue optics to her brothers as they lounged on the hillside in the cool of the evening, watching, listening, learning. Her audios were sharper than most assumed, and she was always listening to what others said as they passed. 'Look at them, the maniacs' 'She's as stir-crazy as those two' 'She can't really be their sister, can she?' 'How can she stand them? The yellow one's psycho, and the other's not much better'
What she could not understand was how others did not understand why she loved them. They were hers, and she was theirs. That was how it had been, and how it always would be. The reason why she had been built in the first place was so that they could love her and receive her love in return.
There were some who said that she could never be one of them, who scoffed at the thought that hardened killers could accept a newcomer into their fold, that they could feel affection for anyone else.
But none of them understood. They saw the twins separation from others as arrogance, their exclusiveness towards so many others as alooftness. But Moonlight understood. They did it to protect themselves. In a world where death could touch hundreds in an instant, they refused to risk connections that would leave them bereaved. Yes, they had friends and comrades that they missed and mourned for and would should anything befall them, but in their relationships there was always a line that would not be crossed. They knew that in their bond of brotherhood that if one died, the other would too, thus neither would be left to face the world alone should one brother fall. That was what protected them, shielded them, and gave them the courage to charge into battle.
And now, Moonlight had been brought into the exclusive relationship.
The Covenant of Primus taught that sparks slept until they were merged with their mortal forms, which was when they awoke and came into life. But even before she was awake, Moonlight knew she had been aware.
It was her brothers who did it, bringing her to the brink of life, that elusive, timeless place between asleep and awake. It was the only way that they had the security of loving her the way they loved each other, by bringing her into the death-pact that they had been sparked with.
On the same night she had been brought to the Ark, they had taken her from the chamber that held her. While she was still tabula rasa, a blank slate unmarked by life, they had held her in their hands and imprinted their spark energy onto her, bringing her spark into kinship with theirs and branding it with the same energy pulse that they carried.
There were only two ways that a spark could change its pulse. One was the ancient ceremony of bonding, where two sparks intertwine and become as one for but a moment before returning to their bodies, re-branded with a pulse exactly alike. The other, equally ancient, was the ceremony of brotherhood, where two bring their sparks into alignment and the main thrum of the pulse is made the same, but still retaining nuances of their own in the ebb and flow of energy. Even though her brothers were twinned from the same spark, each spark had their own quirks. Same, but different. Just like how they wanted her.
From the moment of her first awareness she had known her brothers. She had not known exactly who they were or what happened around her, but merely gained impressions, hints of emotions and flickers of ideas. First had been a constant flow of excitement, love, eagerness, anticipation. The touch of someone new, a friend. Then something bad happened. Worry, anxiety, a separation, longing, all overlaid by a quiet confidence that it'll all be alright. Then something worse happened. Grief, despair, mourning. Another separation, this time her from her brothers. She recalled feeling alone. Alone, but never abandoned. Finally, reunion, anticipation, and then awake.
Moonlight's attention was drawn outwards again as Sideswipe told a joke, all three laughing as the sky darkened overhead. But she didn't miss the slight flicker of pain that creased Sunstreaker's perfect brow. He was still recovering from a bout with the Predacons, and for a time the medics thought that he would not live through the night.
In that dark time, Moonlight could not help but wonder what death would be like. She knew that the survivors would perish should one of their trio fall, but the manner of their demise was a mystery. Would it be quick? Hers and Sideswipe's sparks drawn away by Sunstreaker before the monitors surrounding him ceased their keening death wail. Or maybe it would be a sudden, overwhelming, undeniable and inexplicable need to drive a knife between plates of armor or place the muzzle of a gun under one's chin. Would it be slow? A struggle to continue on, nursing the gaping wound left by the dead brother until it finally drove them to madness and death.
Moonlight shook her crested head, banishing the dark thoughts. It would be quick. No one would let the others suffer. They loved each other too much for that.
She watched her brothers again. Yes, she was as crazy and gung-ho as they were. It was only to be expected. The fire and energy of her brothers burned hot in her, and she freely ran wild with them, which for some reason seemed to surprise people. But it shouldn't have. "After all," the femme thought to herself with a smile, "the moon casts no light of her own, only that which she reflects of her brother the sun."