~~Nesting~~

By Ayngel

Disclaimer: I do not own transformers, or make any money from this story.

*Fic Content Warnings*: M/M SEX; MECHPREG. This chapter - concept of mechpreg further discussed. Otherwise, this fic has very sappy parts, and other chapters contain explicit mechsmut (P&P, Spark, Sticky). Fic is about mecpreg, replication, problems in 'pregnancy,' offspring/sparklings and issues in youngling-raising.

Contuinuity: G1 Season 3

Characters: Hook and Scrapper (and all the Constructicons) and later, First Aid

Summary: Tempers flare and tension builds when the other Constructicons find out about Scrapper's receptive 'state.'

Many thanks to Anonfeather for being so helpful with this and for beta-ing.

And thanks to all readers and reviewers 3

Chapter 4

The sheer anger emanating from the other mechs in the room took Scrapper by surprise. He found himself shrinking back, any confidence in his leadership rapidly diminishing as the raised voices grew louder.

"How could you?" Scavenger was right in front of him. His tail swished angrily, the excavator's usual cheeriness replaced with undisguised fury. "You know how I feel about you Scrapper!" he yelled. "And I'd just like to know …" he gestured in Hook's direction. "What makes you think he's a better co-creator than me?"

Scrapper couldn't even think of a reply. His optics darted across to Hook. Right then, he wanted nothing more than to be beside him. But he could not even see Hook past Bonecrusher's large form, which positively scintillated with fury.

"So you really think you can protect him?" Bonecrusher's fists were clenched balls of tight metal. "Because that's what both him and this creation are gonna need …"

"He is such an aft!" Scavenger threw his hands in the air.

"What you gonna do Hook? Hoist out your crane and swing 'im outta harm's way…. "

"Is that what you want?" Scavenger's hands were on his hips. "Your creation to be raised by an aft?"

"Look, Scavenger …" Scrapper began.

But Scavenger hadn't finished. "You've never listened to me!" he yelled. "You're not even listening to me now! Well I'm telling you, Scrapper, no-one's gonna blame me this time. When this is all over and he's left you get left high and dry-"

The door opened, and Scrapper's attention was diverted to the arrival of Mixmaster and Long Haul. Scrapper saw to his horror that the mixer sat down, his head in his hands. The distress in the ordinarily cheerful mech was obvious. "I always w-wanted to be a r-r-replicator," he kept repeating.

"There, there…can't choose these things, y'know?" But Long Haul's obvious efforts at consolation didn't seem to be working.

Scavenger and Bonecrusher kept yelling loudly their concerns – but Scrapper wasn't listening to them. Instead, he focused on Mixmaster's stammering: "I always wanted to r-r-replicate with Hook. What h-h-happened? Its S-s-scrapper's fault. He did this on p-p-purpose. He's manipulated his own p-p-programming."

No! Scrapper started across the room. "Mix, I didn't - I wouldn't even know how …" but a green arm restrained him and pulled him protectively to one side.

"Don't buy into it!" Hook hissed. "Let's get outta here."

Scrapper nodded. He thought this a good idea – even if his instinct was to go straight to the stricken mixer. But their exit was blocked by Bonecrusher and Scavenger.

"How about we take this outside, Hook?" Bonecrusher's knuckles cracked. "I'd like that. Because if we don't sort this the right way then you don't have any idea what I'm gonna to do to you …."

"I hate you Hook," Scavenger was at his side, his face a livid mask. "I can't even think of you as a team mate any more …!"

"Get out of my way!" Hook snarled, sounding every bit as threatening. Scrapper found himself hanging on to his hand helplessly - pathetically - his ordinarily confident leadership programming completely overwhelmed. He was unable to muster even the thoughts to deal with this, as Mixmaster's lamentations became louder.

"See what you done? You ain't goin' nowhere …" Bonecrusher's fist thwacked into the palm of his other hand. He and Scavenger seemed bigger; menacing. More like the Decepticon warriors they'd become and less like the construction mechs they always had been and still were. The treads on their legs rippled aggressively.

"Very well then …" Hook growled and tightened his grip on Scrapper. His body stiffened as it always did when preparing for combat. It wasn't dissimilar to that; especially from the way Bonecrusher and Scavenger were advancing.

"That's ENOUGH!"

The authority behind the voice froze everybody. Turning back, Scrapper saw that Long Haul had risen, weapon in hand. Gone was the usually quiet and melancholic dump truck. In his place was the Constructicon coordinator, whose outbursts were rare but not unknown. He had taken this stance before, when Scrapper had been out of action.

And Scrapper was relieved at that moment – oh so relieved – that he had appointed Long Haul in that role; for at such times as this, the green masked form was a force to be reckoned with. So much so that the violence went out of Bonecrusher and Scavenger's optics and they fell meekly back.

"That's better …" Long Haul kept the gun trained on Bonecrusher and Scavenger for a few moments. Then he put it away. "Scrapper?" He jerked his head towards the now vacant seat next to Mixmaster. "Over there …. you need to give each other some tender loving care." Scrapper stole a glance at Hook, who squeezed his hand and nodded.

Scrapper let go of the hand and joined the mixer, who regarded him with haunted optics. But Scrapper couldn't return the look. His optics remained fixed on the others.

"Scavenger! Siddown over there."

"But…" the excavator protected.

"NOW!" Long Haul glared at him. "We need to clear up a few things around here. Mainly your place in the scheme of things …"

The excavator went to speak again, but Long Haul's optic ridges furrowed. Scavenger gave up. He sat.

Long Haul turned to Bonecrusher and Hook. "And as for you two..."

Bonecrusher's anger flared again. "We can settle it on our own" He snarled, taking a step towards Hook. The crane's fists clenched - but he found Long Haul between himself and Bonecrusher.

Thank Primus, Scrapper thought. He just did not know what would have happened if Long Haul hadn't done that.

"I really don't wanna get than gun out again," the truck growled. "Now you will cut this load o'pit and listen. Because neither of you is gonna benefit from an all out scrap and nor do you wanna break your fist on my loading tray. Believe me ...

...

A few moments had passed. Scrapper could do little for Mixmaster, it seemed. Besides, he'd just had to recover enough of his leadership protocol to get up and stand beside Long Haul. Now he was doing little more than just standing. But at least he was there ….

He glanced uncertainly at Hook and Bonecrusher from time to time, now sitting disgruntledly side by side. Scrapper was still glad of the quiet but determined authority of the truck next to him.

"First and foremost, we have no idea how Galvatron's gonna respond to this," Long Haul was saying. "We know that Megatron would probably have accepted it – just. Although he'd probably have grabbed the protoform at seperation and had it whisked off to the war academy or some such thing …"

A chill went through Scrapper's spark. Could that kind of thing really happen?

Even when the others were shouting, wonderment at a creation of his own had still been flashing through his processor. Scrapper still could not believe he was actually welcoming that prospect. And – even crazier – his fleeting thoughts had been all about … well – holding the newly detached protoform in his arms and then nurturing it; guiding it into maturity. He hadn't even considered it getting taken away.

But he should - of course. They were Decepticons, weren't they? Creations were raised to be functional in the cause, not have nests made for them, and home comforts lavished. He glanced at Hook, wanting support – but his would be co-creator was staring straight ahead.

Scrapper's spark froze. Hook thought the taking away was a good idea! Did he? Scrapper didn't know. In fact, he realized with dismay that he knew very little about Hook's intentions at all, once the 'act' was over.

Oh how Scrapper wished the others hadn't come in, and that it was just him and Hook here now. He could have just lain here with him and they could have carried on talking. It wasn't just that Scrapper wanted to hear the technicalities. It had seemed as though he had never really talked to Hook before – and there was so much to say.

They must talk more – about this. Then, when they'd decided that their creation – their sparkling – definitely wasn't going to the war academy, they could recover their previous arousal and they could get on and bring it into being...

"Galvatron's that unhinged, for all we know we'd find ourselves branded soft sparks and on the receiving end of a fusion canon." The others muttered agreement with Long Haul, and Scrapper was again shocked to attention. He looked at Hook in alarm – but the crane was now staring at the floor.

"Already, I heard rumors that we ain't been too popular for hiding ourselves here," Long Haul went on. "That we've been taking too long with the base. If he finds out this is the reason …"

/Hook!/ Scrapper rasped into the com, unable to stay silent any longer. /What are we gonna do? I can't not go ahead with this now. I – need it. But what if something like that happens?/

/It will be all right,/ Hook commed back. /Don't fret, Scrapper./ But Scrapper couldn't help fretting. And he wished more than ever that Hook was over here, that he knew what the crane was thinking.

"Hey – well Scrapper hasn't actually started the sequence yet, has he?" Scavenger now looked more cheerful. "I mean – he's still in pre-rep mode. If it's too much trouble, then why doesn't Hook just block things form going further? We could pretend the whole thing never happened – it would be just like before."

No! Scrapper heard a stifled gasp come out of his vocalizer. This time Hook did react. His optics flared coldly. He went to speak - but Bonecrusher was already talking. "Oh yeah – right!" the bulldozer scoffed. "Have you ever been in the grip of a replication imperative Scavenger?'

"Have you?" Scavenger sneered.

"As a matter of fact…"

"Be quiet!" Hook snapped. "We all know that's not an option. Long Haul, you were saying?"

Scavenger gave both Long Haul and Hook a long, sulky look. Long Haul ignored it – and Bonecrusher and Hook's dark stares. Unhappy sounds issued from Mixmaster.

"Now fact is, it's happened," Long Haul said. "Dunno when, but I do know from what we just er …" he hesitated, obviously embarrassed, "from what we experienced then, even through the closed gestalt, that Scrapper's in an advanced stage of pre-replication, an' he needs to see the implant process through."

"We also know..." Long Haul held up a hand when Scavenger went to interject, "that – whether the rest of us like it or not, Hook's gonna be the co-replicator …"

Hook could not disguise his pleasure (or relief, Scrapper noticed happily). He smiled, smugly. "Thank you Long Haul…."

A fresh round of indignation ignited. "What – just like that?" Bonecrusher growled. "I thought we were gonna discuss this!" His fists clenched again.

"Yeah – where's the logic?" Scavenger protested indignantly. He got up, his tail twitching angrily.

They were all on their feet again. Scrapper could feel the tension building like the inside of a volcano. He did not want this. No – hell – he didn't like it at the best of times. A gestalt couldn't even function with bad feelings in the team, let alone reproduce various members of it. Even mechs like Onslaught recognized the need for cohesion and stamped out conflict at every opportunity – or tried to, anyway. And now …

"It's obvious, ain't it?" Long Haul snapped.

"It's not fair! That isn't a reason …" Scavenger complained.

"This ain't a discussion …" Bonecrusher snarled.

Scrapper had to say something. Was decision making still not his main function in the Constructicons? Besides which, this was a decision about him. "It's because I want it to be Hook!" He burst out. "I would always have wanted that. I'm sorry. It's how it is!"

And now they were all looking at him. And there was surprise there, and disappointment, but a respectful element, more like Scrapper was used to. Even Mixmaster seemed better. Which took a weight off of Scrapper; even more than when Long Haul had taken control.

"Look – I can see how you all feel," Scrapper said, tired suddenly and really wanting this 'meeting' over with. "And believe me, I didn't choose things this way. I didn't even know what was going on until Hook explained it. After that, I was all from insisting on a thoroughly logical evaluation. It was just that …"

And Primus be darned, if he wasn't coming over all emotional again, his spark paining in his chest. "I didn't – realize it would be this way. But Hook and I discussed it and we decided that … I decided that …"

"I'm sorry," he looked at Bonecrusher and Scavenger. The fire seemed to have gone out of them. "It's not that I don't …but it's my choice. I want Hook." And then emotion overcame him, and he became lost for words.

He found Long Haul's hand on his arm, then, closely followed by Hook's arm around him. He melted against the crane, offlining his optics and leaning heavily against him. And instead of angry words there was a different tone in the voices. "Hey buddy, I'm sorry .." he heard Bonecrusher mutter, and something from Scavenger that sounded like agreement.

"We need you all." Amazingly, Hook sounded emotional too. "As I told Scrapper, I may be the co-creator but you'll all have a part. And Long Haul's right. We need to stick together. We want this sparkling in our ranks. Not – taken away somewhere or …" his voice trembled, "worse."

"Besides," he went on. "Scavenger's right. What we did – it wasn't a success as you would also have sensed. There's still a chance that…" he hugged Scrapper, "we can't replicate together. In which case it will be open to somebody else to try."

Scrapper found himself not able to contemplate that possibility, so unbearable were the implications. But mainly, he was just pleased to be next to Hook, and to feel the familiar support again that now emanated from his team - his beloved team, his family - who of course were a part of this no matter who was the co-creator. He onlined his optics to see Scavenger looking at him with wide and guilty optics.

Scrapper managed a thin smile. "It's all right Scav," he said. "I know I'm not - myself - at the moment. But we'll talk – later. But Hook's right – we're all a part of this.

...

Long Haul had departed with a somewhat subdued Scavenger. Scrapper was now talking to Mixmaster, who looked distraught again. Hook stole a glance at the mixer. A surge of guilt went through him. It should be him over there, because he and Mixmaster had had that thing, and he had always promised...

"Hook – can we talk?" Despite the events of earlier, Hook was, at that moment, very glad of Bonecrusher's intervention.

"I just wanted to apologize," Bonecrusher muttered after they stepped outside. "Seeing Scrapper like that brought on the old urges. And it made me feel – protective."

It was really quite rare for the bulldozer to apologize. Hook nodded curtly, thinking that if it were him he probably wouldn't have done so. He didn't return the courtesy. He didn't like the 'old urges' part. Besides which, why would he deign with an apology? He had never done so before – and wasn't about to start now.

"I just wanted to see that you got the whole drift of what this meant," Bonecrusher went on. "And that whoever co-replicated knew what they were doing."

"Excuse me?" Hook could hardly believe it. Any benevolence he might have felt evaporated instantly. "So what – you're an expert?" he snapped. No wonder he didn't do apologies.

But Bonecrusher laughed softly. A lopsided grin appeared on his faceplates. "You could say that. Look, I've had a few experiences with replication, both on the carrier and co-creation end."

What? "Surely you can't mean you've – had – a sparkling?" Hook asked incredulously.

"Couple, actually. Long time ago – before we all got together. First one wasn't meant to be that way but the other half of the equation decided she didn't wanna be the carrier …" he chuckled, "in those days I just assumed the femme would be. Funny how you change your tune over the eons, ain't it? Anyway yeah – there was that one. The second was an accident – but that was all right. I knew what to expect by then."

Hook was speechless. And a sudden rush of realization filled him. How many other things do I not know about the team? Because yes - that was Scrapper's job, the 'touchy feely' stuff. Scrapper and Long Haul. Whereas he, Hook, had always focused - well – more on the functional mechanics.

Bonecrusher was still regarding him with amusement. "They weren't the easiest of replications. But they survived – believe it or not. Didn't see them for a long time, because in the end the co-creators raised them, and then they got jobs in other quadrants before the war," he grinned. "But that's been the great thing about Cybertron reconnecting with the Vicinity Worlds, ain't it? I saw them both lately. You should meet 'em some time!"

Hook still couldn't get over it. For four million years he had shared a spark box with this guy, not to mention a gestalt. And he hadn't known this? Why hadn't it shown up in routine maintenance?

But then it wouldn't, would it? Because after the sequence was complete and the protoform detached, the body returned to its normal non replicative function. No obvious traces lingered. Though now, Hook recalled that Bonecrusher had had a slightly expanded pelvic cavity – which he had put down to old injuries from the bulldozer's countless fights and brawls.

"Of course, that's just the two I carried," Bonecrusher was saying. He laughed, "a fraction compared to the ones I've co-created since I got tied up with you lot. That's why I thought you could maybe use my help."

Hook felt anger rising again. "You should have reported these instances!" he snapped.

"Why? Co-creators and I always went our separate ways. They did fine without me …" Bonecrusher chuckled, "for some reason they didn't want me around full time, reckoned I might be a bad influence. Which was as well, wasn't it? Never been on bad terms with most of 'em though," he grinned, "an' they never did forget the initiation."

Hook was still annoyed about the earlier 'implications.' "I might remind you, Bonecrusher, that I am a medic. I hardly need to be told how to do it. Especially in the context of somebody else's experiences!"

Bonecrusher folded his arms. "Yeah!" he said. "But it's never been your thing, has it Hook? You're a surgeon. An' lately, before this happened - if I've been seeing things right - you've been sending mechs outside the team with even a hint of a replication agenda straight off to First Aid."

"That's because we've been in combat. I haven't exactly had time for much more than battle injuries – in case you hadn't noticed!"

Although that wasn't, as Hook well knew, the only reason. Up until now, he'd always found the emotional stuff that accompanied replication utterly irritating to have to deal with. And First Aid was so infuriatingly well suited to it. Hook had preferred to make his referrals, and just forget about them.

But it wasn't the point. "I've also had a fair few practical experiences myself!" he snapped. "I do know how to organize my – equipment. And execute the other aspects of the program!"

A cynical leer appeared on Bonecrusher's faceplates. "You followed those 'experiences' up did you Hook?" He raised an optic ridge. "The implants were successful? The protoform development complete? The separation non problematic? The formative years a success?"

"Well, I uh …"

The truth was, Hook had no idea. His previous experiences had consisted of fierce attraction to the other party and a need to interface. The overwhelming urge to feel connection on all levels had - as with Scrapper - added an extra 'rush.'

But whilst the notion of another version of himself had also undeniably added a thrill, what happened after that was not in Hook's sphere of knowledge. None of them had been a team mate, or anyone close. In fact, 'distance' after the 'encounters' had been essential – seeing how all of them were Hook's patients.

"I'd be ready to wager that your past 'carriers' weren't exactly in a position to be 'parents' with you …" Bonecrusher chuckled.

Another uncomfortable fact was dawning. He knows more about me than I do about him. And that, of course, was intolerable.

"It's really none of your business!" Hook snapped. "And just because I'm a surgeon doesn't mean I don't know the replication sequence intimately! I'll have you know that I downloaded my old manual during the procedure with Scrapper, so I'm quite capable of looking at this in a scientific manner."

"Ah but that's just it," Bonecrusher said. "Scientific ain't always the best when it comes to this. "I mean – you're telling me you downloaded an old manual during the procedure? And you went on reading it while Scrapper was overheating? Holy fraggin' pit Hook, that sounds so sexy. It must have been such a riveting lay."

The dripping sarcasm in the wake of what had hardly been a success was too much. Hook's temper snapped. "Well I guess this whole thing was a mistake!" he threw his hands in the air, the cranearm swinging, the hook clunking loudly against his shoulder. "I guess it had better be you after all, Bonecrusher. Or maybe not? Maybe it should be Onslaught or Motormaster? Because that's who he suggested you know!"

Bonecrusher's optics widened. "Seriously?"

"Why not them?" Hook shouted. "Why don't we give them a call? I'm sure one of them would be perfect. I'm sure they both conduct replication sequences in a suitably unscientific way."

"Hey chill, Hook! I already said it oughtta be you. I'm just tryin' to help …" a note of genuine concern had entered Bonecrusher's voice.

I don't need your help, Hook wanted to retort. But now he thought that maybe, just maybe, he did. He thought again of the first attempt – and failure. It was true – there were several of the more subtle aspects of this reproductive business that he didn't 'get.'

And Hook did want this to work. His spark swelled with a sudden ache. He was conscious now of Scrapper's absence, the need for him, the need to recommence the sequence - successfully.

Bonecrusher seemed to understand. He clapped a hand on Hook's shoulder. "All I'm sayin' is you won't find the secret to success in text manuals," he said. "And you wanna make it even better? Well I know I ain't the universe's answer to a lotta things – but I do know about this. Why don't you just listen to what I have to say?"

Hook nodded. Bonecrusher. Who would have thought it?

"Very well then," he said. "But don't take too long about it."