Grunting and carefully clearing his frame of Sparklings, save for Hudson who was clinging to his shoulder, Jazz half-ran, half-stumbled over to where Ratchet was carefully laying Prowl down upon the ground. The old medic was grumbling under his breath about "idiotic processor designs," among other things that were clearly old grievances about Prowl's frame design. Optimus walked over, hand going out to steady Jazz as they reached Prowl at quite nearly the same time.
Lennox, who had very casually leapt away from the falling mech, returned with questions. "What the hell is going on here? He gonna be all right?"
"Yeah," Jazz replied, calming Hudson, who had startled at the adult falling. "He's got some ol' glitches from his processor designs that he couldn' upgrade outta, an' will crash if somethin's too emotional for 'im to process, or too illogical f'r his battle computer, logic centers, an' central processor to calculate and balance out simultaneously. And that is how most of us operate, only non'a us have as complex a system as Prowl has."
"So, as an example, him seeing you alive would cause this?"
"That would have hit all three centers with enough illogical and emotional issues for seven mechs, with emotion to spare. Primus forbid that he let his emotions out of the slaggin' box every so often," Ratchet grumbled as he tried to plug in and restart Prowl's processors in a careful succession, only to find that he was firmly locked out. "Slagging idiot!"
"What?" Jazz asked, trying very hard and failing to keep the panic out of his systems. "What?"
Ratchet sighed, pulling the cord free and glaring at the prone mech. "He's changed his codes and failed to update his medical file with them. I can't get in." He looked up to see a ring of Autobots carefully giving them room, but all intent at seeing what was going on. Even the Sparklings were hovering around Ironhide's feet and watching. Picking one face and Spark signature out of the crowd, he called, "Aid! You have his codes?"
"Yes, but he didn't like me poking around in there whenever he had crashed," the fledged apprentice replied, walking over and crouching beside Ratchet, holding a data pad out for the CMO to take. "But these are them."
"Kids, listen up," Ratchet addressed the Sparklings. "If you ever want a processor as complicated as Prowl's, you let me know before you get your upgrades. Because I do not like rebooting mechs when they crash, and not every medic can reboot a crashed mech. Do you understand me?"
A chorus of affirmatives met him, but with one glaring exception. As Ratchet slipped into Prowl's CPU with ease and feeling the Sparkling within the grown mech hold onto his consciousness with panicked, frenzied metaphysical motions, he divided his attention for one moment longer. "Faust?"
"I like thinking big things. I like pushing my processor to capacity. But I don't like the ache that follows," the Sparkling admitted, watching the CMO with his steady red gaze, showing a maturity that was well beyond his young years.
"Huh. We'll talk later, bratling. I have to boot one panicky, annoyed mech before I start thinking about what to do about you." He dove into the connection, finding the loop of thoughts that was trapping Prowl in his mind and breaking it with practiced ease. :Looks like you need a bit more help before I bring you completely online again, kiddo.:
:How is he alive? He was dead! Confirmed dead! I mourned him! I couldn't ping him!:
:Easy, Prowl. Easy. You're showing your age, and I know that you like to appear millennia older than you actually are.:
:But he's not dead!:
:I know. I was there when he was revived. I helped him come back from the Matrix.:
:How-how-how-impossible-how-why-WHY-WHY-LIED-TO-ME!:
:Necessary lie, kid. I'm sorry. I wish that I hadn't had to lie to you. I wish that Prime hadn't made that decision to lie to you. But it was to make sure that you could function if Jazz was killed again.:
:What? Why? Are his systems that bad off?:
:No, truthfully, his systems are still hovering around seventy-five percent recovered. However, because he is still getting his frame and reflexes back to where they were. Jazz is a target if he's discovered again. You saw him fall. Prowl, we didn't tell anyone how he was killed for a reason.:
:Tell me. I need to know. I was going to Bond with him when I saw him again!:
For this, Ratchet gave in to his instincts and curled around the trembling presence that was Prowl's mind, still locked in its panicked mode that only Jazz was able to bring out to the surface and subsequently calm. For now, though, as a former mentor and surrogate caretaker, he was able to work within the SIC's processors to calm him and help him settle and balance himself out. :I know, kiddo. I know. Prowl, he was ripped in half. Literally.:
:Who. I'll kill him.:
The CMO didn't dare pull away from the coldness that radiated from the mech's words and presence. :It was Megatron, and he's already dead. I checked personally and thoroughly. I tried to save Jazz, kiddo. I really did. But I just . . . I wasn't fast enough.:
Prowl seemed to contemplate this, Ratchet having let his own self-anger and hatred of feeling helpless when he should have been fast enough, and he began to finally calm down from the frenzy that was whirling around his mind, bringing him closer to stability. Ratchet, in that time, had began to reset and reboot Prowl's processors to the point where the SIC could be brought out of the forced shut-down that was now keeping him on the ground.
:So he's really alive.:
Hearing the measured words, feeling the calm settling around the mech, Ratchet replied, :And sitting next to me and panicking like the mate he is, even if he's hiding it well enough. I need you to do one thing, though, when you come back online.:
:Mm?:
:Save chewing Optimus out about this until you're away from the Sparklings and have a moment of complete privacy. Especially Jazz's Sparkling. I want your word on this.:
:Why?:
:Primus, I forgot how difficult you could get. Because the child is scared, Prowl. You fell, you shut down, and the Sparkling needs his caretakers to be Primus Himself. That's how Sparklings are.:
:Primus can die,: Prowl snarled bitterly. :Primus can take his own life.:
Growling both aloud and within the connection, Ratchet mentally shook the mech before him. :Your parent did you the severe injustice of suiciding because he was brought back from Primus, only to be driven on by duty alone! He was selfish, he wasn't thinking of you! All he wanted to do was to return to Primus because the mundane and boring everyday life didn't challenge his processor the way that battle did! We know this!:
:And what's to say that Jazz won't do the same? He knows what Primus' Bosom feels like! He knows what peace is! You can't know that he wouldn't return there!:
That was the last straw, and Ratchet finally released his legendary temper at the mech he had personally raised, fostering him when the old Tactician had taken his own life. : Jazz came back because he loves you and needs you! You, you slagging slow-processored glitch-mouse! He's needed, he's loved, he's wanted, and while I was in his processors as they came back online, I was watching how much they were focused on all his thoughts and memories of you. Not Prime. Not duty. Not helping the humans or keeping morale boosted, all of which came later, after he was conscious. He was focused completely on you. Do you understand what I'm saying?:
It took a moment, and then Prowl nudged at Ratchet in his mind, a clear indicator that he wanted privacy again, and was stable enough to recognize that he was an adult who had need of privacy. :I need to know for myself. And I will not put my fist through Prime's processor when I come back online, much as he deserves it for hiding all this from me.:
That was as close of a vow that Ratchet was going to get, and in recognizing it he withdrew from Prowl's processors, onlining them completely and unlocking his frame last, making sure that he wouldn't lash out first and ask questions later, giving him time to identify the mechs around him before he settled his optics on Jazz's worried face.
With a soft cry, one barely heard above the sound of his mechanics and hydraulics, he sat up and pulled Jazz close. He pressed his face against the silver mech's, shaking and whispering the original Cybertronian designation of his lover over and over, doorwings drooping completely along his back to rest on the ground. He clutched at the still-scarred armor of his co-officer, his best friend, his lover, never wanting to let him go.
Bluestreak was trying his best not to keen in happy sobs as he felt Prowl's unfettered emotions through the sibling bond. He knew that until Prowl was completely back in his own mind and settled from recovering from the crash, he'd get the overflow of all the emotions from the officer's Spark. This had happened before, when First Aid had to reboot him after he found out that Jazz was dead. That time, though, both Bluestreak and Smokescreen were there to shoulder the weight of the unfettered, and quite frankly, rather startlingly deep emotions that emitted from Prowl. The mech felt arms belonging to two separate mechs rest around his waist and his shoulders, and he relaxed between the twins in a show of trust, letting his head hang just enough that he could hide his expression of pure relief at not having to deal with Prowl's emotions all on his lonesome. He may be only a couple centuries older than Bumblebee, but that wasn't enough time to give him the full maturity to handle the stress of supporting an unstable mech's emotions. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker squeezed him gently, hands resting just under trembling doorwings.
"Hey, Prowler," Jazz whispered in Cybertronian, his voice shaking, trembling and trying to show strength. "I'm home. Welcome home."
Pulling back just enough to glare at his mate, Prowl hissed in a dialect of their long-dead world, "Don't you ever die before I do! I can't do this a second time!"
Jazz replied in the same high-class Praxian song-tones. "I won't. But don' expect me to out-live ya by much longer, either. My Spark ain't that strong."
"Pitfires. Says the dead mech."
"Mm-hm. Gonna kiss me 'hello' in front of a human, too?"
The ridiculousness of the statement startled a laugh out of Prowl, and before he knew it, he was doubled over, laughing. Nobody mentioned or shuttered an optic at the almost-hysterical edge that it had, even if everyone saw how Jazz leaned closer, one arm curled protectively around Hudson, who was watching Prowl curiously with compassion upon his young face. Smiling, the smaller and marginally-older mech stroked Prowl's face with infinite gentleness, moving his hand to rest upon one shoulder before he stroked it down the arm and took his hand. "Hey. Prowler."
Controlling himself, vents heaving and looking around to see everyone watching them with smiles, with sympathetic looks, and with curiosity in the case of the Sparklings and humans, Prowl released his gaze so that it could rest upon Jazz, sighing with relief at seeing the optics, not the visor. "Yes?"
"Meet Hudson. Our Sparkling."
And he then had himself an armful of Sparkling, who stared at him for one long moment before chirping adorably and cuddling closer to his chassis, sighing. The little mechling's voice drifted up to curl around his audios, capturing him as completely as Jazz's voice had all those millennia ago. "Your Spark is as warm as Jazz's. I knew that Sideswipe wasn't telling the truth when he said you didn't have emotions." Hudson turned his small face against the armor, sighing happily.
With a smile, Prowl whispered, "I get to stay here with them?"
Optimus crouched, but had his Serious Face on, the one he used for assigning serious missions. "Prowl. You are to remain with a hand-picked crew of caretakers which will consist of both Autobots and humans. Your mission, your duty here, is to raise fourteen Sparklings with their assistance. Among those I have chosen is Jazz. And if you two are to Bond, I believe I'm speaking for everyone in saying, 'hurry it the slag up!'"
"Prime."
Grinning like the mischievous mech he secretly was, Optimus answered, "Yes, Prowl?"
"Get your aft out of my personal affairs or I will personally remove it and volunteer you for being my exclusive sparring partner for the next hundred years."
Jazz's purring Cybertronian laugh was intentional, and the sound of it sent a thrill up Prowl's spine, reminding him of all the times where that laugh had lead to a smile, to getting out of trouble, to . . . other things. Such things that humans would probably rather not witness, considering that they believed Cybertronians to be entirely genderless. Looking down at the Sparkling again, catching the faint whiff of fresh fumes, he murmured in Praxian once again, "You repainted him to look like us."
"Well, human kids look like their parents. Why not have our Sparklings look like us?" Jazz replied in Old Polyhex.
Sparklings. More than one. Prowl smiled, enjoying the sound of that, even if a section of his Spark was shuddering with dismay. How could he say that, if he could die and never return to them? What if Jazz couldn't handle having more than one Sparkling, and . . . left?
A small, hesitant voice asked after Jazz's reasoning, "Do . . . do you like me, Prowl?"
The mech in question lifted the Sparkling up to optic-level, stroking his small helm with a gentle finger, shoving all thoughts of Jazz leaving to one side. Nodding seriously, Prowl replied, "I like you very much, little one. Jazz loves you; why shouldn't I? Because Jazz loves you, that's reason enough for everyone to love you, but that's my personal opinion. Jazz is special to me."
"Damn. I went from 'Bond-worthy' to 'special' in a year's time? Slag, I ain't felt this demoted since I failed my first mission."
"Yes, well, you died."
"Ouch."
Sideswipe chuckled before catcalling in Cybertronix, "Keep the flirting until small optics aren't watching! Nobody wants the mental image of you two foreplayin' it up!"
Amid a chorus of groans and protests that nobody wanted to think of those two getting playful, in such a manner, Prowl stood and held Hudson to his chest while he strode over to Sideswipe. The mech in question held Iris up in front of him, grinning from around the Sparkling's giggling form as she curled her legs up cutely and let her optics look several times bigger than they were in actuality. Of course she thought it was a game. She was Sideswipe's get, no matter the manner in which she was Sparked. Prowl grumbled under his breath and turned back around to help Jazz up. "Ratchet, I'll need downloads and all prior status updates of Jazz's condition if I'm going to be around here for very long."
"Now I'm a charity case! Whoo! I'm moving up in the world!"
Kup smiled, watching the duo move slowly to a sunny hill with their Sparkling, knowing that while there would be a celebration at some point, right now it was about focusing on the moment, focusing on what to do next. So he looked at the Sparklings gathering around Ironhide's ankles. Crouching down, he settled his hands upon his knees, coming closer to their level, addressing them. "Well, looks like you haven't been learning manners very well. I haven't heard one Sparkling introduce themselves to us!"
"But adults are supposed to introduce themselves first!" Torch protested haughtily. "We're Sparklings and special."
Kup leveled a look at the Sparkling, one that had Bluestreak hiding a grin behind his hand as he remembered that same look given to him whenever he had mouthed off. It held equal parts annoyance and disappointment, and when directed towards the child in question, it often got the same results. "And you heard this, where?"
"Uh . . . Optimus?"
So Kup interpreted the statement in a fashion that would get the best results, showing how often he had dealt with Sparklings. "Oh? That so. Lad! Have you been teaching the littles not to introduce themselves?"
"Never in a thousand years would I teach them such behavior; you and Ratchet were two mechs who personally trained bad behavior and manners out of me, if I'm remembering correctly." He turned to look at the twins and Bluestreak, who were starting to splinter off and away from the main group, needing time to catch up. He spied Iris being transferred from the silver twin to his golden counterpart. Kup stayed with the group, while Ratchet and First Aid moved away to start talking about pressing medical matters. So it was just him, Kup, and Ironhide still with the Sparklings.
He settled himself down. After all, he knew that Kup was famous for his stories. Why couldn't he, as an adult, start to look at the stories and history lessons from an adult perspective for the first time in his life?
After, of course, Torch had been gently but firmly put in his place, and this time, it was looking like the lesson stuck to the little Spark. Kup certainly had a gift.
.o.
Epps rode in Jolt's back seat, bookended by two Sparklings who had all but glued themselves to his sides. He had one arm around each warm body, soothing them as much as he possibly could with gentle tones. Jolt, who obviously had never been around Sparklings before, was helping as much as he could, whistling and chirping what small language he remembered from his Sparkling days. Finally, Leafy, then Toast, fell asleep against him. He relaxed further into the back seat with a sigh. "Man, my own girls aren't this hard to put to sleep."
"Ill timing, then."
"Oh?"
"We're here."
Muttering obscenities under his breath, Bobby Epps sighed and stroked the small helms as they pulled into the driveway, then down and around to the back. He blinked at seeing so many new mechs sitting under the flood lights, then asked, "Did you know that we were getting reinforcements?"
"Nope. This . . . holy Primus Himself. Out. Out!" His yell startled the Sparklings awake, and when Epps had difficulty getting out of the small car with the two clinging to him, Jolt partially transformed so that he could get out and stand with one small child in each arm. "Jazz!"
"Jolt? Slag, man, how's it been?" the pleasantly-tired, familiar and deep voice replied.
Epps stared long and hard at the mech he thought was dead, seen as freshly dead in torn in half with fluids still leaking from his frame, then turned his attention to the larger mech beside him that was all but curled around the silver form, as if protecting him from something. Blinking to Lennox, who shrugged and indicated that they were a couple with a subtle gesture, the large black man turned to look at Ratchet. "So where are the other little terrors?"
"Sleeping, as all good Sparkling should be at this hour. Primus, where did you find these two? Under a bridge?"
"More maltreated Sparklings?" Optimus growled. It made Epps real glad that he hadn't been the one to get the mech angry. He and Optimus respected each other, and both had the same intolerance for bureaucrats, sycophants, and people who were more interested in their oversized paychecks and making others do the hard work for them.
"Not as such. The people in charge of Leafy here, and yes, I think we should change their names to something a bit more respectable, had been keeping him in a barn. The other people had beenliving in the barn with the other Sparkling. Their house had been condemned, but the barn hadn't been."
"I'll kill 'em."
"Easy, big guy," Lennox warned Ironhide, patting a black plate of armor roughly by human standards.
The Sparklings clung to Epps as Ratchet reached over to rest two fingers along each small back, getting readings of their systems with only a few small scans. "Well, they need a good refuel, the language packs, and a defrag followed by forced medical recharge, but aside from that and from being scared little fraggers, they're not that bad off." Chittering in Sparkling-speak, he got their attention, holding out treats for them both, teasing them away from Epps. "What were their names?"
"Leafy and Toast. I'm not kidding, either." He stood still, not moving towards or away from Ratchet, making the kids make this decision.
"Hm." Taking a moment to pause once they were close enough that he could scoop them up, Ratchet did so, settling and holding one in each arm, letting them seize the treats, showing them that curling close to a mech's torso wasn't anything to be afraid of. With a sigh, he felt one of them settle into recharge, the other one settling and warily looking out. Their names were quite obviously derived from their armor color. Leafy was green, Toast was a golden brown. Leafy was currently clicking in his sleep, the equivalent of snoring.
The sound drew smiles from the tired mechs sitting around them. Kup, who had a pair of Sparklings asleep on his lap and a third draped over his thigh, was grinning. "I remember when you clicked in your sleep, Ratchet."
"I remember Prime clicking in his sleep."
"I can top that."
"Dare you."
"I remember Sentinel Prime as a two-day-old Sparkling clicking and fussing in his sleep."
So Ratchet ignored being one-upped and kindly laughed at in order to synch up with the sleeping Sparkling first, implementing the language packs, activating them and setting them up beside the Cybertronian languages so that cross-referencing wasn't going to be a problem. He then found that the Sparkling didn't like the short name of Leafy. So with a smile, Ratchet tagged various words having to do with the color green for the Sparkling to look at, with a note in English stating that he had an entire two languages to choose a name from, and to choose two, one in each, was also acceptable because of the two peoples that he would be interacting with. During this time, half of the remaining mechs had drifted into recharge, finally able to relax around trusted friends.
All while Ratchet worked, he was gently stroking the awake Sparkling's shoulder and back, reminded of the times that he had done this with Youngling twins, who still caused him enough grief that would flatten and break a lesser mech. Thankfully, these two didn't seem to have the same phobia about hardline upgrades as Iris did, and "Toast" willingly turned so that its port was revealed. Smiling, Ratchet moved swiftly, handing the Sparkling another treat when he was through. "Well, you're well behaved for a skittish little creature."
"Humans scare me. But you don't. Because you're a bigger me."
By the pitch and cadence of the little voice, Ratchet could see that this one would be a femme. "Hm. And what name did you wish to choose, little one?" His question was punctuated by Prime's vents sticking before blasting open in a "cough," indicating that it was time for another cleaning. Primus forbid that their leader ever let anyone but Ratchet or his Sparkmate to help him clean off.
Glaring at the recharging mech, who had merely shifted in his sprawled-out slumber, Ratchet shook his head, hearing Ironhide say, "At least he feels at ease enough to go into a full defrag while we're here."
"I blame it on the officers," Sunstreaker said with a grin from where he was lounging, his golden frame catching and reflecting the light from the fire that the humans had lit and settled around.
"Funny, I blame it on the frontliners and the Autobot's best slaggin' sniper bein' 'round," Jazz said with a grin, stretching his legs out before settling back against Prowl again, entangling his hand with his lover's, one arm curled around the sleeping Hudson.
Ratchet shook his head, looking down at "Toast," his optics quirking up to indicated that he was still waiting for her answer.
"I like Sepia."
Researching the word and connotations, Ratchet smiled and nodded. "It's a good name. Now, I think that it's time that a certain Sparkling went to sleep."
"I wanna stay with the brown man!" Sepia burst out, looking as if she were about to panic.
Ratchet stroked the side of her face with a gentle fingertip. He frowned slightly, voicing his thoughts. "You said, though, that you were afraid of humans. Why do you want to stay with Epps, the man who brought you here?"
"B-because he's nice! He's not like the mean people. He's . . . he's nice," she reiterated, curling her legs up and fidgeting with her hands.
Epps, meanwhile, had been walking closer to the Sparkling, smiling. He brushed his hand over her arm, getting a startled glance before she settled down. "I'd be real honored if you really do feel safe around me."
"Can you take care of me?" she blurted.
Smiling gently, if sadly, Epps shook his head. "Naw, hun, but I wish that I could. You're a real cutie, and you're a real sweet little girl, but I'm a soldier, and my wife and kids back home know that I have to do my job. I have to fight so that you, the other Sparklings, and my own people, humans, are safe."
"Even the mean humans?"
"Them, too. Just 'cause they ain't nice don' mean that they ain' worth protectin'." He smiled and brushed his hand over her helm again. "But I can visit you. Do you understand what 'uncles' are, for humans?"
"The brother of a caretaker," Sepia replied softly, optics brightening. "So you'd be family!"
"Yep!" It was hard not to grin when any of the Sparklings were grinning. "Absolutely. Now let's let Ratchet rest, huh? C'mon, time to settle down for the night."
"Nightmares . . ."
"If you trust me, I can take care of those," Ratchet murmured.
"Mmkay. Cord?"
Nodding, Ratchet plugged in, accessed a few medical-only files until the Sparkling was upgraded to a second-stage Youngling, almost adult, and started a defrag cycle that would finalize in a deep recharge. At seeing the Sparkling power down, one hand having threaded its way into Epps', Ratchet chuckled. "Well, I'd forgotten how clingy these children are. Go on, pick her up and keep her close. Primus knows that you're the first step she's going to have towards trusting humans."
Sideswipe rested his chin on Sunstreaker's hip from behind his brother, looking over his mirror-image frame at the relaxed scene. Mechs and humans resting, Sparklings laid out on mech's laps, and no fewer than three on Prime's chest. He looked at the sick woman, Dana, seeing how she rested against Ratchet's free leg, Faust watching her worriedly before her hand stroked his face, soothing him. He felt his twin's curiosity, which he answered with a data packet regarding her medical condition.
~Sides . . . she's going to die if Ratchet doesn't help her.~
~I know. And he wants to, but because of the way that humans are fussy about being experiments and all, his hands may ultimately be bound.~
There was a long moment between them as they watched Faust settle into a recharge, his head on Dana's thigh and his arm wrapped around her waist, hearing but not listening to the talk that swirled gently around them. Iris shifted in her sleep, whirring once before settling again in Sideswipe's arms. Sunstreaker looked through his twin's gaze as Sideswipe looked down at the child. Smiling, the duo felt comfortable around this small group of their ranking officers. Most of them had personally mentored them through some rough times while they integrated themselves into the Autobot forces.
~I want to help them, Sunny. Prime and his officers are really . . . they're weary. They're more tired of this war than we are. You can almost feel the exhaustion radiating from them, and for Optimus to actually be recharging?~
~I know. Yeah, let's help. I don't mind playing at being you, and I'd like to be backing Prime up for a while. Magnus was a good mech, but he's not his brother, and he doesn't know how best to handle how we operate as frontliners.~
~Point us where we have to go, and don't tell us how to do our job. He's still micromanaging?~
~Yep. He's afraid of his decisions ending in a death.~
~Glad that you're here, then. Humans understand the "point them and run away" rule, and aren't afraid to ask us for help when they have a problem.~
Sunstreaker twisted a hair, then grinned to someone behind them. Sideswipe felt Bluestreak settle by his legs, leaning on him to look down at Iris with a smile before he sprawled out behind them, draping arms and upper torso over Sideswipe's legs. The sound of metal clanging and settling caused the humans pause from their conversations, looking at the trio curiously, then with slight trepidation.
~I think they might want an explanation, Sunny.~
~Slaggit. You do it.~
~Why me? You came with Blue!~
~You've known the humans longer.~
~Ugh. Fine.~ He looked around at the humans who were now really taking notice of where he was resting his head on his brother, as well as Bluestreak all but blanketing his legs. Venting air, he asked, "Yes?"
Epps and Lennox shrugged, as did Dana. But Graham and Burke both were watching them curiously, along with the few others from the NEST command crew that had been called in to help with construction. It seemed as if they were wondering how rude it would be to ask what was going on between the twins and Bluestreak. Ratchet sighed, then sent them a small directive. :You can tell them the broad strokes, but I do not want them to know how Sparks work. As much as we trust Lennox and Epps, we still don't know how trustworthy all of their comrades are. If either of those two decide to start asking questions, you can answer them, but privately. Do you understand?:
After the twins had replied favorably, Sideswipe said, "Sunstreaker and I share one Spark, and are as close to what you call twins as our species can get. Our Spark, what you could call our soul, split apart upon activation. We were supposed to be one mech, but fate had other plans."
"So you're actual twins?" Epps asked softly, knowing that Cybertronian hearing was sharp enough to catch his words.
"Spark-split twins, yes. Different than Skids and Mudflap, who may be close to identical in frame and temperament . . . hm. Think of it in terms of identical twins versus fraternal twins." Sideswipe felt Sunstreaker's "nudge" and moved just enough that he could pass their Sparkling over to his twin, careful not to dislodge Bluestreak. The sniper was following the conversation, but who was also close enough to recharge that his optics were dimming. "We can operate as one consciousness, but it's stressful and we're used to being two separate entities."
Sunstreaker settled the Sparkling with infinite gentleness, giving Sideswipe a moment to seize on the next topic. "And now you're wondering what's the deal with us and Bluestreak."
That got the gunner's attention, and he blinked, coming back to full wakefulness to watch the twins, who hadn't moved from their comfortable lounging with each other. He knew that Sideswipe was going to draw this out to annoy the humans a little, and that's exactly what the usually-red twin did. Finally, one of the men asked, "Well?"
Sunstreaker looked over at Bluestreak before he answered instead of his twin. "He's our best friend, and we trust him to cover our afts in battle. Hell, I trust him to target millimeters away from my Spark."
"Which has happened," Bluestreak said. "I'm the best sniper that the Autobots have, and while I know that I talk a lot when I'm not on the field or doing my job, I've never been located, I've never taken damage while covering and sniping and I certainly never make mistakes. There's too much at risk for me to make a mistake and if I slip up, people die. I mean, they die anyway, but people that I'm protecting and keeping safe will die, and those people are usually officers, so that's not something that anybody wants to risk, you know?" He blinked, then grinned, glad that he was able to talk himself out without being cut off by someone. Then again, most of the people who told him to shut up were of the usual infantry and didn't know the reasons behind the babbling.
Sideswipe thumped his side twice with a light fist. "And you're the reason why Ratchet's sitting here, not dead. Same for Prowl. And us. And Prime. Most of us several times over. Which is why you're also here for the Sparklings, I'm guessing. You, out of all of us, have saved the most lives with your actions. And you're the best mech to keep the kids safe . . . and you're due for some magnificent R'n'R under glorious blue skies, Primus-gifted sunsets, and with Sparklings to make you smile again."
:Start talking like that and I'll start flirting back, regardless of orders,: Bluestreak replied, shaking his head and relaxing again. "Man, I missed you being around."
"If they're identical, how can you miss them?" Lennox asked, curiosity causing him to lean forward, watching the trio's movements.
"We're not identical in personalities," Sunstreaker said, stroking the face of the little Sparkling in his arms, committing her to memory all over again. Primus, what a gift!
"You seem it, though. At least right now."
"Hm. Try taking your personality and splitting it in half, then take the extremes of your personality, the good and bad, and have them exaggerated," Ratchet replied before the Twins could. "They've mellowed out over the millennia, but they're still polar opposites."
"How?"
"I'm a prankster. Mischievous. Always ready to please and always ready to get a laugh. Always wanting to have fun."
"I used to be a sociopath. I still have a temper. Don't scratch my paint and I don't scratch yours. I'm picky about paint jobs. I'm an artist. I'm not as happy as Sideswipe, but I can experience his happiness and feel it as my own."
"Likewise, I can feel his anger as my own, and I can get really angry, but never as angry as Sunstreaker. We're both creative, but express it in different ways."
"We both enjoy causing Prowl grief."
"Don't remind me," the mech grouched from the other side of the fire, Jazz now firmly in recharge in his arms.
"Okay, so if you guys are all friends," that same nameless man asked, "then what does that make those two?"
"Best friends," Prowl said firmly, as if anticipating that a human was going to shove his nose into his relationship. Epps and Lennox were good to know the truth regarding their kind, but they had to remain as sexless as possible. Humans just weren't ready to know that they had complex, loving, meaningful relationships. "I have known Jazz almost as long as I've known Ratchet, and he half-raised me."
"So he's like a brother?"
"No. Twins are brothers, and those raised together by one mentor are siblings. Jazz is a friend. He was raised by caretakers in the same building complex that Ratchet resided within. We were introduced, got along, and did our best to remain friends even though we drove each other crazy because of our opposite natures."
"No truer words were spoken," Ratchet murmured, shaking his head. "Right. Humans, it's midnight. Half of our mechs are in recharge, the other half should be in recharge, and we're taking the Sparklings to the brook tomorrow to keep them out of the way of the heavy machinery that will be settling the foundations for the new buildings."
"Which is also out of sight of the mundane humans," Dana added. "I'll be joining you later, and Faust will be going with you in the morning. I'll need a ride, since I can't ride the horses anymore."
"I'm sure that will be taken care of without much of a problem. So, get to bed. If you're sitting a watch, check in with me. Prime needs some time with the Sparklings and Prowl will be on leave to rest for the next two days—"
"Slag off," the black and white growled.
"I'm CMO. I'm pulling rank. And you slaggin' need the recharge and relaxation, so don't you start getting huffy with me, kiddo."
"Prowl, listen to him, please?" Bluestreak said softly, entreating his "brother" through the bond they shared. :He's right. You're still looking a bit frazzled, and two days will do enough to take that edge off. You also crashed today, and Ratchet always made you take time off to recover from a crash. Two days isn't that long. Please listen to him, Prowl. You need the time.:
:If I have that much time, I'll think too much,: Prowl replied.
:You know that you can always overflow on me. I know what it's like to need to vent emotions and feelings and frustrations and not wanting to think . . . because then I remember all the mechs that I've killed to keep others safe.:
"Fine," the Autobot second in command grunted.
"Three days off it is."
"What?"
"I heard three days," Sideswipe said, grinning and elbowing his brother. "Didn't you, Sunny?"
"Stop calling me that. And yes. Three days. You sure it wasn't four, Ironhide?" he passed the metaphorical ball to the older mech with ease.
"Nope. Three," Ironhide said with a chuckle, looking to his human friend. "You head three, right, Lennox?"
"Absolutely, big guy. Three days. Starting tomorrow morning, right, Ratchet?"
"Primus, even the humans are conspiring against me!"
"It's because we already care about you," Dana said with a smile. Somehow, that smile warmed Prowl's Spark, even though it was the smile of a being at peace with her ending. And yet, it was that peace with the fact that she may yet die but was going to enjoy every living moment; it was exactly the balm that Prowl needed for the pain he felt in his Spark. Venting air, he nodded his thanks before settling his back against the oak tree behind him, the width perfect to support his and Jazz's combined weight, and just wide enough for his doorwings to rest against. Jazz shifted in his slumber to lean against Prowl's frame just a bit more, and with Hudson in his carrying hold, the larger Autobot felt recharge calling him gently.
So he rested his chin upon chest, and let himself power down, arms tightening around his Jazz.
He would rest.
.o.
Author's Note: Well, that's it for the first arc of this story. I have the second arc in my head as a nebulous cloud for the moment, but it's also going to be a little more light-hearted than this one while I figure out what to do with the Sparklings. So I'll be generally taking a break from the military mechs while I work on what to do. They'll still be mentioned and will still be around, but there'll be a chance for me to hit on another lose end from the introduction chapter.
And I just remembered something. Bee ruthlessly destroyed the Kitchen-bots in TF2. I'll have to figure out a way to justify that, considering what I've come to say about Sparklings in this fic.
Is anyone actually listening to the songs I'm suggesting, or should I just stop listing them?
In case anyone is listening to the songs, here's this chapter's theme:
Boombox's Theme by Tony Bacala
Updated Author's Note: Right. So that's the first Arc completely edited. Thank you for your patience! I hope that some things have cleared up, and that completely new questions have been raised!
