A/N: Again, thank you all for the reviews and how you took that little thing with Prowl. I am glad you reacted favourably. Ok, I anticipate this being a LONG chapter. You know that I do not own Transformers.

Oh, by the way, I don't own 'Mrs. Doubtfire' either. I also know it's not exactly in the G1 timeline, but I threw it in there because I like it.

Warnings: Slight not-too-explicit consensual sticky and looking at interface equipment for medical examination.


Turning Point – Chapter 7


"Ooohhhh!"

"Yeah babe, c'mon."

"J-Jazzzzz!"

"Unf, that's hot! Uh….hah, gonna overload if ya do that again."

"Jazz! OH! Unnggg….."

"Prrrroooowwwlllleerrr! Ggrrrnngghh!"

The couple panted on their berth, spent from their morning interface, Jazz collapsing onto Prowl's chestplates, feeling and hearing the steady thrum of the spark beneath and relishing the fact that the spark was his. Forever. Looking up into the sated faceplate's of his mate, Jazz grinned slightly and leaned up to touch their lips together briefly before slowly pulling out, hissing as Prowl's valve clamped on his spike as if to draw him back in. He threw a mock glare at Prowl, who only smiled benignly back.

Moving from between the lubricant slicked and splayed thighs, slumping to Prowl's side and throwing a lazy arm over him, he purred happily, "Oh sweetspark, that has got to be the best way of wakin' up!"

"Mmm," mumbled Prowl, "I disagree. As long as I wake up with you, it's a good morning nevertheless." He got another kiss from Jazz for that comment, and felt over the bond how Jazz felt like glowing with the compliment and the love in which it was said. Jazz settled back onto Prowl's shoulder with a soft sigh, simply enjoying the tranquillity of their time alone, before their duties came into play.

"Ya know, Ah've been thinkin'-"

"Oh, that's dangerous," Prowl teased, jabbing his mate playfully in his abdomen.

"Hey! Anyways, Ah think ya shouldn't talk to our 'guests' yet," Jazz said.

Prowl frowned. "Why? It could help them."

"Ah know ya wanna help anyone in the same situation as ya, love, but at least not talk to the fliers yet. They might go back to the Nemesis, even after what they've gone through, and them knowin' ya have been hurt like that…well, Ah don't want the info in Megatron's hands," Jazz pointed out, as usual, concerned for his gorgeous mate. "Soundwave ya can talk to, he wants to stay though."

The chevroned mech saw the complete logicality in his mate's response and nodded, clasping Jazz closer to him and stroking his upper arm.

"I see. We have to get up now," Prowl mumbled in Jazz audio, causing him to shiver in delight.

The visored mech pouted, "Aw, but lyin' here with ya is the best thing in the world!"

Prowl laughed softly, and with a wicked smirk, began tickling the slightly smaller black and white mercilessly, finding the nodes that made his lover shriek with laughter and thrash in uncontrollable fits. Finally, when Jazz was gasping from giggling too much, Prowl relented, a knowing smile on his dignified face.

"Prowler, you are one…hehe…evil mech," Jazz panted out as he calmed down from the tickle fit.

"I know. Now: shower, energon, and then, to work."


When Thundercracker woke up, for an astrosceond, he had no clue where he was. Because for one thing, the berth he was on was firm, but also comfortable.

The Nemesis had never had so pleasant a berth for any soldier who was not an officer.

His optics calibrated fully, and he looked up to see an orange ceiling. He frowned up at it, and realisation slowly trickled back. He gave a soft grunt, rising up and stretching, noticing in the periphery of his vision that Skywarp was up and sitting at a small table at the foot of the berth. He was drinking slowly from a cube of fresh energon, looking contemplative.

Shaking his wings a little, Thundercracker said quietly, "Morning."

Skywarp shot him a quick smile and replied, "Morning."

The blue Seeker knew this was not his lover's usual morning behaviour. Usually, he would just teleport and squeeze him tightly from behind and give an almost too happy 'Morning TC!' But he said nothing. He had not been touched during their ordeal, only watched, and who knew what was going inside the black Seeker's mind. He took his own cube from the dispenser so thoughtfully provided and sat opposite the usually bubbly flier.

Again, Skywarp gave Thundercracker a smile, this one not as blinding as the first, but more sincere. It put Thundercracker at ease a little bit. It meant the world to him to see that smile from Skywarp, and he mumbled, "It's good to see you smile."

"I'll always smile for you, TC," Skywarp said, reaching a hand out and lacing it with the other flier's, keeping their hands linked in a soft grip.

They looked into each other's optics for a few moments, looking for something in the other wordlessly. Crimson on crimson, they relaxed further, and Thundercracker lifted the purple hand to his lips and gently brushed his lips over it.

Skywarp sighed in relief. Relief of what, he wasn't quite sure. Thundercracker's demeanour was putting him at ease. It also made him voice the concerns that had been going through his processor since he had woken up.

"Hey TC…uh…I was wondering…" he began.

"Yes?"

Skywarp vented. "Um…I don't want to go back to the Nemesis. But I don't want to be an Autobot either. And there doesn't really seem any place to go. We can't go back to Cybertron. It's pretty much sucked dry, plus it's got Cyclops, and-"

Thundercracker broke in, "Cyclops?"

"Shockwave…one optic?"

The older Seeker merely arched an optic ridge, which made Skywarp giggle a little, before he went on. "So...yeah, not Cybertron. We don't have any other planets we really want to be on. Not to mention we'd be alone out there. I also kinda like it here. This Prime's always been better than the one who gave the order to bomb Vos. I want to know what you think."

Thundercracker gave the teleporter a mirthless chuckle. "Being Decepticons for so long, it feels odd, not to go back to the Nemesis. I also know that we will no longer be safe from Megatron's whims if we go back, and I cannot risk your safety…nor mine," he said in a low voice. "I agree with you. I don't want to be an Autobot. I really actually don't want to fight anymore. If we could just exist here until the end of the war, then it would be fine. I don't see how that will happen though. We'd be a drain on resources, and I doubt the Autobot's would want that."

Skywarp sighed and tightened his hand momentarily over Thundercracker's. It made his spark pulse with the simple gesture. Skywarp was worried. And he hated to see his lover worried.

"Or," he spoke again, an idea coming to mind, "if we just help out, but don't take their symbol…do something useful, like train those Aerialbots or something similar. Maybe then we could stay. We'd be safe."

Skywarp snorted, "Aerialbots? Those excuses for Seekers? Yeah, they'd definitely need our help."

Thundercracker ignored the comment. The protective streak he usually kept hidden was coming out. With slow movements, he brought his hand up to the black jet's cheek, gently cupping it and stroking his thumb over the pale plating. The innocent, yet sometimes wickedly dangerous, faceplates of Skywarp had matured slightly in the last two days. And oh how he wanted to kiss away any doubt, to wash away the defilement, but he knew the other Seeker had to initiate it. Only then would Skywarp would be ready for such intimacy again. He felt it as the younger mech leaned into the touch, optics dimming slightly with the contact.

"I want to try something, TC," Skywarp said softly.

"Go ahead," TC rumbled softly, leaning forward.

Just was slow as Thundercracker had lain his hand upon his cheek, Skywarp leaned forward so their helms were touching, nasal ridges almost brushing.

"Don't push yourself," the blue Seeker warned.

With a sigh, Skywarp whispered, "I'm fine like this…but I'm not ready to kiss you. It…still feels wrong."

"What if I kiss you on your cheek or your helm, or your neck? Do you feel uncertain when you think about me touching there?" Thundercracker asked softly. Skywarp shrugged, but didn't answer definitively. The older jet felt that response told him enough. He moved forward and to the side, brushing his lips over a cheek seam, and then up over the nasal ridge and to the black plated Seeker helm, designed to be appealing and streamlined. He peppered light kisses there, being slow and light, ready to back away at any sign of discomfort. He pulled away, optics again searching on Skywarp's.

The black Seeker was smiling a little, and he said, "That felt really right, TC. I didn't feel freaked out at all."

Thundercracker gave Skywarp's hand another reassuring squeeze, releasing them just as the door gave a little chime. The Seeker's glance at each other in question, but Thundercracker got up and opened the door, surprised at seeing his trine leader standing there, Skyfire behind him.

"Uh, hi," Starscream said softly, "can I come in?"

Thundercracker darted a look to the shuttle, who was just standing there, looking a bit uncomfortable. Starscream noticed where his gaze went and said, "Skyfire's just going to go get some stuff before he comes back. I want to speak to you both alone."

The tricoloured jet stepped through, throwing a look back to his caretaker and moving to the small table in the quarters as Thundercracker shut the door and followed.

"It's good to see you," Starscream smiled a small smile at the youngest trinemate.

Skywarp stood and threw his arms around the Air Commander with a small sob of gratitude. "You stopped him from taking me in the valve. You were so, so brave, Star." He pulled back a little, feeling the other mech fidget, "And I have so much to thank you for. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you had to do that, sorry that me and TC never realised whenever you joined us for an interface-"

"It's not your fault," Starscream halted the apologies in a quiet voice. "If anything, it is mine for not speaking up before. I was too cowardly."

"It's not anyone's fault but Megatron's. He is diseased and sick for even starting on you, Starscream," Thundercracker broke in, stepping closer to his trinemates and putting his arms around them, giving them solid comfort. Starscream forced himself to relax. He had hidden his pain so many times before that it was second nature now. He had another reason for coming here, and knew he had to say it now before he lost his nerve.

"I want to do the Trine Ritual," he said quietly, nearly so quietly the other mechs couldn't hear him.

Skywarp and Thundercracker looked at each other with surprise etched onto their faceplates. It had been such a long time since they had done it, but they couldn't think of a better thing to do.

It was the ritual that all trines had to perform. It was not merely a duty or obligation, but a promise. A promise to be loyal to the trine, to the trinemates, and to protect them from any harm. It helped to reinforce the trine, to bring the energy fields in synch – thereby being more effective when flying and performing death-defying manoeuvres if need be. It was a signal of the deepest commitment and devotion without having to be lovers or bondmates, a sacred thing within Vos. They had not been able to do it without the Conehead's noticing and so they had not refreshed the unspoken vows they had taken as a trine in quite some time.

"When?" asked Skywarp.

"There is another thing in the way of it. We need to fly to complete it, and the only way the Autobots will let us do that is if we do not return to the Nemesis. So I must ask you both. Are you going to stay or go?" Starscream asked tentatively.

"No way in pit. We are staying. Not to be Autobots, but staying," Thundercracker answered his tine leader.

The usually proud jet nodded, sagging slightly in relief. "Good. I am staying also. This is my out, and I'm taking it. I don't want to have to live in fear of being taken against my own will ever again. But I have my concern for the Coneheads. Whether we like them or not, I still command them, and they are my responsibility."

"They are tough," assured Skywarp, "And we can always say to Prime we really need to have this war ended and Megatron locked up or dead once and for all."

Starscream didn't like it, but accepted it. With them gone, the Coneheads could be placed in the line of fire, but he hoped that Megatron was so intent on getting his better trine back that he wouldn't worry about the other mechs.

"How are things with Skyfire?" Thundercracker asked.

Starscream did a funny sort of expression between a grimace and a smile, and he replied, "A little awkward. He's got an extra berth in his room, so I recharge there and that's fine. But he keeps encouraging me to talk about what's been done to me over the years, and I'm finding it difficult because I've always hidden what's happened to me. I hate feeling weak because I cry every time I begin to talk. He's just there, holding me, unselfishly, and I can't help but be reminded by the way I've treated him."

Thundercracker gave his trine leader a light pat on the back and suggested, "Tell him. You've let him hold you and you've cried already. It's really good for you to get it out."

"Hmm. You are right in theory, but reality isn't quite…well, anyway, I better go and let Prime know we are staying. I'll see you later," Starscream said, frowning in thought.

As Starscream began to turn out of the trines embrace, they all got a comm. to report to the medbay.

"I wonder why?" wondered Skywarp aloud.

"No clue," Starscream replied, walking out the door and seeing Skyfire walk up with a cube of energon at that moment. He gave his friend a small smile, taking the cube and drinking deeply. He began to walk to the medbay, Skyfire and his trine behind him in silence.


Ratchet waited, twirling his wrench absent-mindedly.

He didn't wait long.

The group of four fliers trekked in quietly, and awaited his instructions. "Starscream, please go in the room you were in when we first brought you here. Skyfire, you can do whatever you want for the next half an hour, as long as it's not here. Skywarp and Thundercracker, on that berth," the medic pointed as the mechs obeyed his instructions without a grumble, groan, or protest. It was a change from most of the Autobots, who had to be dragged to the medbay sometimes as they complained loudly.

When Skyfire left, Ratchet got the small cube of fluid he had prepared earlier and approached the Seeker couple, who were holding hands, safe in this environment.

"Now, I'm just going to do a quick check-up on all your systems. I want to see what your overall level of maintenance and health is. I am doubtful of Hook's work, even if he is a perfectionist," Ratchet said to them, and the gestured to the cube of clear fluid. "This is a sanitiser. Skywarp, I felt it prudent to give you this. It sanitizes all surfaces of any contaminant. This one is safe to gargle with, but under any circumstances, do not swallow. Or else I'll have to flush all your tubing, and that won't be fun."

Skywarp perked up. He knew the hidden words in the mini-lecture amounted to something like, 'use this, it actually gets rid of the physical trace of transfluid,' and he was glad for the medic's thoughtfulness. He took the cube, gave Ratchet a quick grin, going over to a sink and gargling the clear fluid.

Meanwhile, Ratchet had plugged in a general medical scanner into the nape of the blue jet's neck, feeding directly from the neural activity in the wires. He watched the readings carefully for any viruses or glitches in code. The machine beeped, and Ratchet hummed in concentration as he studied the results. "You need a few firewalls, but those are easily installed. You have no viruses or glitches, your spark pulse and strength are fine and you have no signs of rust, cosmic or otherwise. However, you need to up your fuel intake a bit – but that may be the quality of the energon from your faction. And, if you intend to stay, then you must see me in a month to have your tanks flushed. Not fun, but essential."

Thundercracker merely nodded. He kept the date of next month in mind. If they were going to stay, after all, it would be good not to piss off the resident medic.

Skywarp walked back and sat on the berth, smiling a little and twining his hands with his lover's once more. He handed the empty cube back to Ratchet and said, "That was just what I needed."

"You are welcome. Your turn," Ratchet stated, indicating the scanner and unplugging from Thundercracker and switching to Skywarp. He went through the same process, waiting for the machine to finish before reading out the results.

"You are similar to Thundercracker here in that you need a few firewalls and better energon, as your systems are not running at capacity," informed the Autobot, "but you have a few additional problems. Your warp generator needs to be looked at and repaired as you have a few wires torn out. And you also need some maintenance to your thrusters. It reads here they have not been cleaned or recalibrated in some time, and that needs to be done if you stay. Apart from that? You are healthy and working in optimal parameters." As Ratchet concluded, he asked, "Are you both going to stay?"

"Yes," they answered simultaneously, no doubt in their minds.

Ratchet nodded. Good. He wouldn't have to shackle them to the medberths and fix them then. He then informed them of when to come back and get those problems looked at before he dismissed them and went into Starscream's room.

The tricoloured Seeker was on his berth, back to the door, muttering something and scribbling on a datapad. Ratchet wanted to ask where he had got it from, then realised it was one of Skyfire's smaller ones. Clearing his vocaliser, Ratchet said, "I take it you are staying here with us on base?"

Starscream spun around, but relaxed upon seeing Ratchet. He scowled a little and replied, "Not as Autobots. We want to stay and be useful, but we are not taking a faction symbol."

Ratchet nodded. It was understandable of course, and such a radical change could not be expected of Starscream, who had been a Decepticon from the start. He moved forward, holding the medical scanner and silently asking the question to check Starscream's systems. Starscream narrowed his crimson optics, but nodded, allowing the red and white mech to plug the machine in.

As before, Ratchet read out the results. "You need more of our better quality energon, more rest, more firewalls, a thrusters check, a few panels on your wings need to be adjusted to make you more flight-efficient, and…wait…a virus? In your vocaliser?" Piercing blue optics looked at Starscream, wanting an answer.

"You honestly think my voice was always this screechy? Another of Megatron's brilliant plans to break me," Starscream sneered, turning his face away in shame. He had a nice voice once. Under pain of deactivation did Hook refuse to fix him.

Ratchet felt his cooled rage bubble up to the surface. How had none of them known that Megatron had always been this vile? He shook his helm and looked at the rest of the results. He did not say these out loud. No use as there was so many. He sifted through each, getting a datapad out of subspace and making a list of what needed to be done at Starscream's appointment. After doing so, he gave Starscream an apologetic look and said, "I need to look at the valve replacement to see if everything looks good. We will only know if it lubricates well enough when…well, you'll know." He finished awkwardly, but Starscream merely nodded and sighed in assent.

Starscream shifted on the berth, lying half-propped up and legs bent at the knee, held wide. Shuttering his optics, he sent the signal to open his panel. He wanted to cry out, to scream, to cover himself up, but reminded himself that this was clinical, this was for medical purposes.

The chevroned mech took pity on the flier, moving forward to do the inspection, gently pressing around the valve, scanning the area, using a thin metal rod to test the inside, trying to be precise and swift. Starscream was visibly tense, hands clenching.

Retracting the rod, Ratchet said, "It's fine. Well done."

Starscream ex-vented shakily. It had taken all of his will power not to jerk away. He was relieved, however, that he had not reacted more negatively.

"Am I free to go?" he asked softly.

With a small chuckle, Ratchet said, "You sound like an Autobot already if you are asking that! But yes. Skyfire left me a message and said he's in his lab. Do you know the co-ordinates?"

With a nod, Starscream gave the medic a thanks and left, heading for the lab, where Skyfire had promised to distract him from himself, but made the proviso that Starscream talk about his trauma. Starscream knew he was being subtly manipulated, and he couldn't find it in himself to care. As long as it was Skyfire, then he would blab until his vocaliser was sore.


It was warm. It was comfortable. It was oddly right for both of those things to be there.

Under the brilliant red crystal of his visor, Soundwave unshuttered his optics and flicked them around. He was in his new room , and had in the middle of the night, pressed up against Blaster, who was still in the depths of recharge. Soundwave felt his faceplates heat in a blush. His face was practically on Blaster's chest, and he had threaded a leg through Blaster's while one of his friend's legs was thrown over his upper thigh. The intimacy of the position almost frightened him, but it did not make flashbacks appear on his HUD, nor did it made phantom aches flit across his sensor net.

If anything, he felt…awkward.

He was also a little concerned how Blaster would react.

After all, Blaster had been the one to worry about them resting together on the same berth, afraid that he could push Soundwave into a trembling, scared and vulnerable fit.

With slow movements, Soundwave moved away, careful to replace the space where his body had been with a pillow, finding the tempting urge to laugh at Blaster grabbing onto it and snuggling close to the soft object. He crept out of the room with a great longing just to spend the day with his cassettes and do nothing but hold them and watch them play.

Finding them on the pull-out mattress, Soundwave felt his spark warm. Ravage was already up. Being the classic eldest sibling and watching over the younger with soft optics. He turned, regarding his creator with a knowing look and shuffling over to make some space. The telepath took it, bringing a hand up to stroke along the feline's ears. Ravage knew what had been done to him and he had accepted it. He may not have liked it, but let his creator know that it changed nothing on how he or his siblings saw Soundwave. If anything, it made them admire him more for being strong enough to protect them and to use logical thinking to ensure that they were protected forevermore.

Feeling the presence of their father, one by one the cassettes woke, smiling up at him and getting up to sit around him, communicating wordlessly over their bonds.

It had been a long time since they had just sat and let their energies mingle as they used no words to talk. As a communications expert, Soundwave had instilled in each creation not just to communicate with verbals, but with non-verbals, pictures, sounds, gestures, and even optic flickers and movements.

The cassettes told him that they could adjust to life here. It would be odd for them not to spy on their once enemy, but instead to live among them. Soundwave took those feelings in stride, assuring them that they were not expected to change overnight. A soft sound drew his attention to the hallway, where Blaster stood with his cassettes, blinking blearily with the remainders of recharge.

"Hey, thought I'd give ya a heads up. Prowl's on his way here to go over some stuff with you about deferring and…stuff," the other cassette bearing mech informed, walking in.

Soundwave nodded, a little uncertain.

Blaster threw a grin his friends way and said, "Jazz said something about him. He'll be good with you. Professional and understanding, ya know?"

Soundwave tried to feel confidence, but couldn't. He merely stroked a hand over Ravage's cat-like helm in thought.

The other mech grimaced as he said, "I have to go on duty with my guys for half the day. The dispenser is full and Ratchet wants to give you and your guys a thorough check-up. So by the time that's done, my comms shift should be over and we can just chill after that, yeah?"

"…yeah," Soundwave replied. Inexplicably, he thought then of how he had woken up, feeling himself warm at the thought. If he asked, would Blaster do the same that night? Thinking about recharging alone made him fear the demons and terrors within his own mind.

"Right…well….yeah, Prowl'll be along soon, and I'll see ya," Blaster said a little awkwardly, giving a little wave before leaving, the door shutting with a sense of finality.

"Nice one boss," Rumble drawled, "Way to make someone feel like they did something right."

"Meaning?" the larger mech asked.

"He just spent the night comforting you and you barely give him more than a word. And he's been really decent to us," Frenzy supplied, stretching and poking his creator's side seams playfully.

The navy mech blanched, feeling guilt swamp him. He belatedly realised he had been so impersonal. Blaster now probably thought that he had left because he was afraid or scared, or possibly had a flashback due to the proximity of another. Soundwave felt the urge to bang his helm against a wall. He just felt like he couldn't do anything right. The soft chime of the door broke his thoughts and he stood, only to have the door cycle open to reveal Prowl.

"Morning Soundwave," the doorwinged mech greeted, "may I come in?"

Soundwave nodded. After all, who was he to argue with the SIC of the Autobots?

Prowl strode in, heading for the table in the corner, beckoning to Soundwave to sit there as well. They sat opposite, Prowl calm and collected as usual, Soundwave hesitant and nervous. He felt odd to be around another mech, the past few days with Blaster feeling like millennia.

"This is going to be slightly boring. It's mostly about what comes with being an Autobot, the treaties we've signed, what rules you are bound by and so on," began Prowl, taking a datapad out of subspace and laying it in front of the other mech, tapping it and saying, "This will be your new personnel file, so I will let you fill that in while I talk. The preliminary idea would be for you to work comms with Blaster, as it is a position you are used to. Are you agreeable to this?"

"Yes, sir," Soundwave replied, taking the datapad and swiftly filling in the information. A pang of nostalgia hit him as he remembered the time he had done this for the Frequency Academy and then again for joining the Decepticons.

"Good. Now, first of all…"

Soundwave listened attentively to the Praxian mech as he finished up with the datapad. Prowl was efficient and professional, going through all the necessaries methodically. A small smile curved his lips. He had done this once he had gotten to the position of TIC with the Decepticons, being the informer for most, if not all, the new recruits. However this was much different. The way Prowl talked – Soundwave could feel the silent passion and dedication that the black and white mech felt for his cause. Something stirred within him in the middle of an explanation about banned recreational items.

Inspiration.

He had not been so inspired ever since Megatron's first speeches back on Cybertron. The conviction Megatron held back then was eerily similar to how Prowl was talking now. Even talking his way through a pile of rules, Prowl spoke with commitment and confidence.

It really cemented in his processor that he was actually going to be an Autobot, something he had vowed never to do. There was no other option, and instead of shunning the idea, he intended to embrace it.

He and his children had been fighting for a losing cause for too long.

"Now, just one more thing," Prowl said, finishing on informing Soundwave. The ex-Con nodded and handed his datapad back. Prowl took it and placed it in his subspace without looking.

"I know you may be reluctant to share such information, but if you have any knowledge about the Decepticons and their plans or any other relevant information that can be used to tactically tip the favour against them, I would appreciate if you told me," Prowl continued, folding his hands in front of him patiently.

Soundwave canted his helm to the side, "Is it logical to give me such an out?"

"Yes."

Soundwave couldn't help but be impressed by the straightforwardness of that answer. "I will pass over any information onto a data disk and deliver it to your office when it is completed."

"Ah. Right then. In the meantime, do you have any supplies or the like that you and your creations need? Or perhaps a map of base?" Prowl asked politely.

"Pfft, ya gotta be kidding mech, we've hacked and infiltrated this place so many times it'd be weird if we don't know where to go," Rumble blurted from the couch.

Prowl fell into a stony silence, turning to look at the cassettes with an inscrutable look. Rumble seemed to realise what had been said and clapped his hands over his mouth, looking sheepishly at his siblings and at Prowl.

"Well, see to it that no such events of hacking occur from now on," Prowl said quietly. Rumble nodded, the quiet authority in that tone ringing in his audials as though the words had been shouted. 'Nice one, little glitch,' huffed Ravage telepathically, flicking an ear in distaste for the previous comment.

'Oi, I'm no glitch!'

But Prowl had evidently been satisfied by the mollified behaviour and turned back to Soundwave, whose mouthplates were set in a firm line. Prowl still couldn't believe that Soundwave left his mask open around him, but didn't mention it. No need to make the poor victimised mech feel any more uncomfortable than he was. He sighed as he realised he was just about to do exactly that with his next words. "Before I leave, I would like to give some advice if you are willing to hear it. I understand, at least in part, your mentality right now. I know how you must be feeling. Abuse does come in more than one form, and I know. If you would like to talk about why I do, my office door is welcome any time you wish to discuss it."

Soundwave quirked his lips slightly before he bobbed his helm in affirmation and answered, "Thank you. You have been most informative, sir."

"You can call me Prowl if you like," the SIC mentioned nonchalantly as he rose and headed for the door. Once there he turned back and gave his once enemy a small smile. "Do not ever forget Soundwave, that you are as strong as you were before this event. Let no mech take that away from you. And I am sincerely pleased that you have decided to stay and defect."

"I am not strong," Soundwave said, not realising he had spoken the words out loud.

The black and white mech merely said, "You are. Perhaps stronger than myself."

Soundwave opened his mouth to ask, but Ratbat beat him to it. "Why would you say that, sir?" the youngster, curiosity getting the better of him (as it often did).

The smirk on Prowl's face before he answered was as cold and bitter as dirt packed ice before he replied, "Well, if there is a sign of strength to be gauged, then your creator is stronger in myself that he didn't attempt to self-deactivate. Good day." With the loaded and shock inducing comment left hanging in the air, Prowl left, doorwings held taut behind him.

"Holy slag," the cassette twins echoed together, looking back towards their creator, who had gone stiff with that last statement.

The larger mech and their creator found himself reeling in shock. What on Earth or Cybertron would have made the stoic, seemingly untouchable tactician break down and attempt to do such a thing? Prowl had indicated he had not been sexually assaulted, so what was it? With absolute certainty, he knew he would be going to the officer's office to question, and to possibly learn. He had honestly never thought of self-deactivating. What had happened to him was debilitating, humiliating, and still made him feel a wash of hot shame, but he had not contemplated, not once, drowning his problems and escaping them by leaving for the Well of Sparks.

Knowing that his cassettes were throwing concerned looks his way, he shrugged off the thoughts and got cubes for himself and his creations from the energon dispenser, sitting with them once again. They were his reason for living. With them around, he would never be able to even think about self-deactivating. No, he would heal, in time.


"You creations are very well looked after and are in very good shape. Firewalls are up to date, sparks are strong and steady, processors and systems running efficiently. Their energon intakes are vastly better than you or the Seekers, but I expect that was because you were sacrificing your ration, correct?"

Soundwave nodded. He noted that he had been doing the gesture often lately.

He was in his private room in the medbay, creations waiting outside in the main area, being watched over by First Aid – who had reacted quite favourably to them, all things considered. Ratchet was with him, going over the results of the scans of all his cassettes and himself. Not only had they been scanned, but their Decepticon insignia's were taken off and replaced with new, shiny red Autobot ones. Rumble and Frenzy even joked how the red looked better on their frames than the purple had.

But to the matter at hand. He had skimmed Ratchet's thoughts, briefly unleashing his telepathy to scan what the medic had planned. And he had a feeling the next part was going to make him cringe. It needed to be done.

"You, on the other hand," Ratchet went on with a frown, "need to take in more energon. Not only that, but your sonic cannon is not performing up to efficiency due to a small build up of an unidentifiable substance. Overall, your health could be better, your injuries are healing well, and so I'm not going to complain too much." Ratchet then settled an apologetic gaze on Soundwave's visor and said, "I do have to check your new valve. I know you aren't ready to be touched there yet, but unfortunately, necessity is the bigger evil here. If I have by any chance not installed it correctly, or if it has not assimilated into your systems, then there will be additional problems to add to your trauma."

Soundwave flinched as a brief flicker of memory crossed his mind, a sensation of an energon line breaking, slicking the brutal thrusts as growls and grunts were heard…

He vented, arms coming around to hug himself. How one thing brought him down so quick, how insecure, so worthless he was. Feeling a soft touch on his shoulder, Soundwave tilted his helm up so his visor looked into the crystal blue optics of the medic – who had been so patient, so kind and efficient.

"I am deeply sorry to do this. I'll make it as quick as possible," Ratchet promised.

Soundwave knew that there was really no use in denying the request. As the medic said, it needed to be done. Spreading his legs and getting himself as comfortable as he could on the medberth, the ex-Con found himself wanting to shut his optics and keep them open at the same time. For he knew if he shut his optics, there would be no doubt that he would replay the violation, regardless of if the touch was gentle or not. He clicked open his panel, feeling himself beginning to tremble as it was bared to the mostly white mech standing to his side.

"Good job, Soundwave," Ratchet praised, lifting his hands so the navy mech could see them and very gently lowering them to that area. His spark went out to the poor mech, who was tense and so obviously trying not to jerk away or scream. Even though it was in his function as a medic, Ratchet felt so guilty for the reaction.

Underneath his visor, Soundwave watched as Ratchet gently prodded around the opening of his new valve. He felt fear wash over him in waves. Although he knew that the medic would never hurt him that way, he feared being touched inside. Slipping into Ratchet's mind briefly, Soundwave discovered that the medic was so reluctant to hurt him, and so prevented him from bolting out the door and hiding in Blaster's quarters. He tensed and stilled, letting Ratchet work. However, practical thinking didn't stop the fear from ebbing back and forth over him, of his disgrace twisting through his spark, or the impulse to sob and cry for mercy. Without knowing it, silent tears slipped out of his optics, winding slow tracks down his face to drip off his jaw line and onto his neck plating.

Ratchet saw the tears and he prodded gently, yet quickly, doing the same test he had performed on Starscream not even an hour earlier. Knowing this would haunt him, he took the thin metal rod, putting a gel on it, and eased it in briefly to check the walls and if it had integrated.

It seemed as though the installation had gone perfectly, but the medic could not stop his spark from squeezing in guilt and he pulled the rod out.

For Soundwave's tears flowed faster now and his upper body quaked, denta were biting down on a lower lip to prevent a sound from being made. Manually closing Soundwave's panel for him, Ratchet murmured gently, "I'm done. I am so, so sorry for this Soundwave. But the good news is the valve is fine."

Soundwave jerked his helm up and down in acknowledgement, managing to choke out a shaky thank you as he tried to calm himself down. Ratchet stayed with him, moving up to tenderly stroke the side of the navy helm like he had done to the frightened sparklings who had once visited his clinic on Cybertron who had been scared. Not to call the ex-Con a sparkling, but the vulnerable state was very similar to the way sparklings acted vulnerable.

Leaning slightly into the touch, Soundwave felt himself calm a little. The medic felt familiar in an odd way. He was old enough to be older than the Prime, and so had this very 'creator' like feel around him. A fresh round of tears almost broke as he recalled never having felt this same touch from his own creator. By the time his creator got him from his job as a cleaning drone, there was never any time for attention or personal relationship. With a hiccup, Soundwave trembled again, blindly reaching for Ratchet and seeking more of that creator like feel.

"Oh, youngling," Ratchet whispered, drawing the younger mech to him and letting Soundwave weep quietly into his windshield as he continued to stroke the other's helm. Slag him for being so protective, for being such a medic, but it felt good to let another cry it out, to turn to him for healing. He had let his own spark become disillusioned and hard with war, and this was something he had not done in a while.

"The slagger that did this to you does not deserve to live," Ratchet said fiercely, gently wiping the tears from Soundwave's faceplate not hidden by the visor.

Soundwave was surprised by the vehemence in the tone, but felt a warm glow in his spark. It felt good that he already had a few Autobots on his side apart from Blaster. He let his intakes even out, not even caring at that moment about appearing so needy in front of the medic.

"Thank you," he said again, "I did not like the check-up, but…but you did it right."

"Yeah, well, good," Ratchet said, and then mentioned, "I won't tell anybot about what happened if you don't want me to."

"It would be appreciated," the telepath replied, managing a weak smile.

Ratchet merely clapped him on the shoulder and said, "All I'd like for you to do for the rest of today is watch movies. Go watch some of everything. It's not a cure, but I find that the human movies are fascinating, if primitive."

Knowing that this was not the norm for the medic, Soundwave nodded, wiping at his faceplates to make sure his cassettes would not suspect, and left. Ratchet stood there for a second, feeling a pang for something he had not wished for in quite some time.

A sparkling.

Now, if only he could find someone to love…


Soundwave had just gotten on Blaster's couch with his cassettes when the door opened and Blaster strode through, jaunty smile on his face.

"Hey guys, how was your day?" he greeted.

"Interesting," the cassettes chorused, not looking from the screen where the opening credits of a movie rolled on.

Blaster's smile widened to a grin and he exclaimed, "Oh boy, I love the new symbols. Look good on all of ya." And then with a sly wink, he added, "Especially you, 'Wave. Real dashing gentlemech." All of the cassettes, his own included, chuckled at the light teasing, while Soundwave only smirked – Blaster just knowing his friend was rolling his optics under the crystal visor.

The loud voice of Robin Williams poured out of the TV speakers, and Blaster saw the scene and recognised it instantly. "Awesome! Mrs. Doubtfire! We love this movie, ya ever see it?"

The ex-Con's shook their helms in a negative and he rubbed his hands together excitedly and said, "Well, ya are in for a real treat. It's one of the better human films and is hilarious. Steeljaw, Ram, come here." Sitting down at Soundwave's feet and leaning back against his legs, the red and yellow mech patted his sides and his quadruped cassettes obliged, snuggling in. Smiling down at his cassettes, he looked back up to the movie but opened up a private comm. line with Soundwave.

:: How are you really feeling though?:: he asked, concerned.

::Would you like honesty?::

::Please.::

::Fragile. Shame, as before. And weak. I felt like a sparkling at the check-up.:: Soundwave answered, even his tone over the comm. was soft.

::Can you tell me why?:: Blaster asked cautiously. He made sure his expression gave nothing away to either his or Soundwave's cassettes.

::Ratchet had to do a valve check. I reacted both better and worse than I thought I would. The pain was coming in flashes, even though I knew Ratchet did nothing more than briefly insert a valve stick to test if it integrated into me.::

::Go on.::

::I cried again,:: Soundwave murmured, ::Ratchet looked very guilty over the whole affair. What made me feel very sparkling-like was when he comforted me like a creator and I reached for him and wept on him. He was very good about it. You are all very lucky to have a medic like him.::

::Yeah, Ratchet's a gem. And you know it's ok to cry, Wave. I'll never see it as weakness. I'll always see it as a strength, because you are letting a piece of yourself free:: Blaster replied, tone gentle and assuring. He leaned back into the blue calves of his friend and turned his helm to discreetly rub his cheek on a knee joint in comfort.

::I am very glad to have you, Blaster.:: Soundwave said, meaning it with all his spark. With Blaster around, he knew they would work through what was done to him.

::Right back atcha, main machine.::


That night, Soundwave couldn't recharge.

He was alone in his berthroom, having insisted to Blaster that he would be fine. But every time he closed his optics, memories set in and fear and self-loathing zipped through him, causing him to wake again.

At least his cassettes were deep in recharge, tucked into his chest compartment. Placing a hand over the new Autobot symbol, Soundwave tried to relax again, but to no avail. He was very tempted to seek Blaster out, to show his weakness once more and recharge with Blaster next to him. He was also very tempted just to stay online until he was too weary to be so, and then be so exhausted he then went into a dreamless recharge.

This cycle went on for an hour before Soundwave got fed up, cursing himself, cursing Megatron, and cursing the events that had occurred to make him like this. He got up and slid out of the room, moving silently to Blaster's berthroom.

Quietly, he slunk in, noting that the berth was bigger than his own. He was slightly confused when he didn't see Blaster's cassettes, but deduced that they, like his own, were in the chest slots.

Blaster, meanwhile, was sprawled on his back, a blanket half draw up to his torso, a beam of moonlight shining from the single, small window in the room, to light Blaster's features. Something within Soundwave made him just stare for a minute. He had forgotten Blaster's charming good looks, and the moonlight enhanced them. Something shot through Soundwave, something indescribable, and he found himself yearning to touch that face.

Shaking his helm, he wondered if he should just wake Blaster and ask to climb in, saying he couldn't rest. Blaster had been understanding. Would he still be so?

With a sigh of indecision, he made to back away, but a dim blue light made its presence known until Blaster's optics unshuttered fully. In a sleepy mumble, he said, "Wave? Tha' you? Can't recharge?"

"No," the navy mech whispered softly. Maybe he was a fool to do this.

"Nn…kay, c'mere, it's nice and warm," Blaster mumbled, scooting to the side so there was enough room for his companion.

Relief made him relax and he slowly clambered into the berth, Blaster pulling him closer and soothing him with a soft smile and a caress over his arm before dropping back into recharge. Soundwave felt secure again. It was such a selfish pleasure, but he felt safe within Blaster's arms – regardless of the awkward and possibly uncomfortable wake up. Once again, he took a moment to reflect how good Blaster was being to him. He felt the odd urge to cry at this. Instead, shaking the thought away, Soundwave fell, at last, into recharge's reaching arms.


A/N: FINALLY got this sucker done. Soundwave was being very difficult.

So what do you think of the 'Ratchet as a creator-like' thing? Does it work, or should I nix it? I would really love to hear what you thought about the WHOLE chapter. I'll try and get the next chapter up faster.