Marine Teals

'Asdffgh': symbiotic bond

:sdfghsj: comm link

Chapter 10

Everything hurt like a slagger.

Distantly Soundwave's audios registered the background noise as conversation. Autobots. It took his mind too long for his liking to recognize the voices as Ratchet, Ironhide and Prowl's. His CPU was muddled and hazy, numb from the tranquilizer and the wound.

He didn't need to online his optics to know he had been restrained to the medical berth. Soundwave tried sitting up, only to jerk back violently as a searing pain burned his sides. Primus, it felt as if Megatron had shoved his fusion cannon into his docking chamber and fired at maximum power.

Rushed pedesteps, then he was immediately pushed back down onto the berth. "Stay still." Ratchet growled. Soundwave looked at the Autobot medic in silent inquiry. "Yes, you're our prisoner. Yes, we deactivate your defense systems and dampen your telepathy. And no, don't you dare move without my permission. So help me if you tear open that fresh weld. That crazy son of a slagger would deactivate himself to come back and haunt my balls."

Soundwave was about to open his mouth to ask who Ratchet was referring to when Warpath limped his way into the medbay, a sizeable dent on his left leg. Ratchet sighed. "Thundercracker again?"

"We literally had to wrestle the fragger into the brig. He kind of calmed down a bit until dumbaft Huffer said Soundwave'd be in a separate brig." The red tank glared at Soundwave accusingly. "Fragging threw me, he did. While handcuffed. He's like a rabid cyberhound!"

The tapedeck sighed internally. Thundercracker was giving away too much sensitive information - the kind that'd allow the Autobots to easily blackmail him. But secretly Soundwave was quite flattered, knowing how his capture affected the pacifist seeker. Still, Soundwave didn't know what to make of their current positions. He knew that thinking of their latest escapades would be counterintuitive right now, but he couldn't help it. He had nearly straddled the Seeker's lap in a lapse of judgment to be more physically intimate. His mind went on autopilot: he had clung to the others, nearly melting as Thundercracker's warm servos tentatively cradled his body.

It was bad enough Soundwave cared. It was worse because he knew Thundercracker truly cared. It would've been easy not to act on his impulses if the Seeker had just stayed away, or had kept his distance from the tapedeck. But no, he just had to keep coming back to torture him. Thundercracker's words had been like sweet coolant to a sore vocalizer, and Soundwave was feeling giddy and strange, and pumped with adrenaline, and irrational, and all the other bad feelings that he shouldn't. For a moment he had felt invincible, and that he could do anything and everything. To hell with the consequences.

So he did.

He thought maybe Thundercracker was making him more stupid, because whenever the teal mech's around he tend to use his processor half as much.

"... It's not like the mech has a say. Our policy is to separate prisoners. Especially when the prisoners are a sociopathic mind creeper and a rampaging flyer."

Soundwave snapped his attention towards Prowl and narrowed the light behind his visor. That wouldn't do, since either of them would be able to escape on their own. The thought of being near Thundercracker made him nervous and uncertain, but there was no other choice. The telepath thought of negotiation, but there was nothing he could offer, and that'd make his intention so obvious. Thundercracker would likely be spiteful and not even bother speaking to his guards.

Maybe Thundercracker throwing a tantrum was a timely advantage. Autobots were way too compassionate and empathetic for their own good, and likely had some speculations of the bond between him and the teal mech. All he needed to do now is to perform a little trick. It would mean he'd be giving away a tactical advantage that not even the Decepticon armada knew, but it'll hopefully be worth it.

He ran a quick check of his systems. Good, still intact. The Autobot medic couldn't have known.

So Soundwave offlined his audios and visor, shut down his sensory and balance neural nets after timing a full-system reboot, sucked in a deep breath, and screamed.

"... So, that's what happened."

"Ah can't see a flip'n thing! The slag just happened-"

Ratchet calmly gripped Ironhide's jaw and firmly held it in place, and the other mech took it as a sign to shut up and sit still. The medic then popped open the left audio panel to peek inside. "Aaaaaaand... here's the broken wire."

Prowl was stumbling around as if he'd forgotten how to walk, and the Praxian soon crashed into a shelf and landed flat on his back when he kicked his left leg up too high.

"For the love of Primus, I told him to stay put! Wheeljack, would you mind...?"

From the monitors, Wheeljack sighed, shuffled quickly to Prowl's side and hauled him onto a nearby berth. Then he started scanning Prowl's vitals for malfunctions. Prime slowly took in the scene, shuttered his optics in surprise, then looked at the Decepticon secured on the med berth. Soundwave's visor was a dim glow as he silently observed the Prime.

"... Soundwave did all this?"

"Yes."

"Sorry, but, uh... one more time. I'm still a bit confused."

"Soundwave woke up, tried to move, I held him down. Warpath came in because fucking Thundercracker keeps struggling and fighting back. He told us how Thundercracker went berserk when Huffer said he and creepy telepath here would be in different cells. Prowl said it's protocol. Then Soundwave screamed his vocals off, and our internal sensory and balance systems glitched out like crazy." Ratchet shivered lightly, remembering the piercing sound drilling into his audio drums, the acute pain making him stagger and dropping into a kneeling position. That was the most unpleasant and nauseating feeling he'd ever had, as if he had a hangover after someone had put his processor in a blender.

Ratchet put back the audio panel, and Ironhide sighed in relief, happy to regain his sight. The white medic then placed his servos on Soundwave's throat, and he tensed up immediately. The Decepticon's visor light darkened to a bruising crimson, and Ratchet had a feeling the other mech would gladly bite of his digits if he didn't remove his servos in the next two seconds.

He suddenly felt ridges and welts that shouldn't be there, and it took him a moment to realize they were scars. Ratchet was intrigued, and tried to tilt Soundwave's head up to better see the scars on Soundwave's throat, but the mech held his helm firmly in place. He could tell Soundwave was angered at this intrusion, and dropped his hands.

Why hadn't anybody noticed in all these vorns? What happened to Soundwave?

He decided against voicing out his new discovery. Decepticon or not, Ratchet was not a privy mech, and personal things weren't supposed to be intruded on. "Turns out his vocals are modified to produce sonic waves that disrupt electrical flows and cause all types of minor malfunctions. The vibration can even snap thinner wires and cables."

"And that's why Ironhide was temporarily blind, and Prowl couldn't walk a straight line."

"Yep. One of my audios spazzed, and my right knee keeps folding and unfolding sporadically. Immediately I called Wheeljack over through the comm, he fixed me up and then we called you."

"And... Soundwave didn't even bother to escape during the entire episode?"

"That's the weird part. When he screamed, the effects were immediate, and we all fell into a panic. I quickly turned to Soundwave because this was an opening he could take. But the 'Con was just lying there watching us. He didn't even so much as flex a cable."

"I thought vocal mods were extinct. Too complex, not enough resources and professional skills around. I know Frenzy has special drums in his torso that also produce sonic attacks, but that's much more simple to implement." Optimus mused. "It would be bad for us if the Decepticons have more mechs with the mod."

"Well, that's the thing." Wheeljack chimed in excitedly. "It was an innate mod. Most mechs had their mods implemented artificially by medics or technicians, but Soundwave's vocals were modified naturally at sparkbirth." The eccentric scientist then bounced lightly on his pedes like an overenthusiastic sparkling. "From a scientific perspective, he's a fascinating specimen. Innate mods are a rarity, and the number of mech with born specialties could be counted on two servos."

"No, we're not letting you experiment on him. I gave Thundercracker my word, and I have my honor." Ratchet glared at Wheeljack, and the mech deflated. Primus knows how Thundercracker'd react if they accidentally let slip that they fiddled with Soundwave, and in an army with more than a few gossipers and big mouths, the chances are abnormally high.

"Did you disable the mod?"

"Disabling the mod means disabling his vocals as well. So he's kinda mute at the moment. I don't want him blowing our heads off when we discuss his sentence."

Ratchet paused for a bit, then turned to Prime. Thundercracker's over-protectiveness and sudden change in character only happened when Soundwave was involved. Soundwave might just be reciprocating the sentiment, which put their relationship in a different light. He'd try and interrogate the Decepticon Communications Officer after everyone had deserted the med bay.

"I think... and this is pure speculation, but... he might have voiced his disapproval. He wants to be put together with Thundercracker."

"That's against protocol." Prowl said instantly.

"Yes, I know what the blasted protocols say!" The white mech snapped. Textbook much? "Still, it'd be best to put them together. Thundercracker would definitely not cooperate and he's quite aggressive. Soundwave's presence might calm him. Besides, I want to negotiate with someone who's not murderous and I feel unless we put the two together, that wouldn't happen."

"Frag no, Ratchet! You've finally lost it."

Blaster walked in and eyed Soundwave. Returning the gesture, Soundwave's visor light narrowed into slits as he turned to fully face his rival. Ratchet scowled at the red and yellow carrier.

"Who told you Soundwave woke up? I'm not going to suffer a hissy fight between rival carriers."

"Warpath. And I've got more self-control and pride than you give credit for."

"How is Teletraan-1's systems, Blaster?" Optimus asked gently.

"Almost back to normal, Prime. Half a day and all will be well."

"You still haven't figured out the virus' origins?"

"I'm still confused about that. There's nobody in the Decepticon army that I know of who has this level of expertise! Even I can't make a virus like this."

"That you know of. What if you don't know? My bet is that they recruited someone new. You don't know everything." Wheeljack shrugged, and Blaster glared at him. "Hey, it's true. You're great at your job, and you're one of the best in your field, but you're not the Piece de Resistance of the entire course."

"Gee, thanks a lot, 'Jack. Rub it in, why don't ya?"

Ratchet sighed in exasperation. "Are you all here just for idle chitchat, or actual business? Because I will be ejecting you all out of my medbay as soon as Prowl can walk straight. Including you, Prime."

"Actually, I'm here for Optimus." One final dirty glare at Soundwave, and Blaster shifted his attention to the Autobot leader completely. "Megatron hailed the Ark, and apparently he wants to negotiate with you. He also said you two have some personal issues to settle."

The moment Blaster mentioned Megatron's name, Optimus Prime stiffened immediately, his body tense, his optic bright. "Let's go to the command room, then."

"He wants to talk with you. Alone. No audience."

Prime lapsed into quiet thought, and his right servo came up to gently scratch his collar. Then he nodded.

"... Hail the Nemesis, and link the transmission to my private monitor. Make the link private, disable any recording or broadcasting to that channel. And please deactivate any camera or microphone that may be lurking in my room." His voice took a hardened edge, one the Prime rarely ever takes, only when he was dead serious and intolerant of any disobedience. "Nobody is to know the content of our exchange. If I found out about any eavesdropping, there's going to be severe punishments. Clear?"

"Clear, Prime," said everyone.

"Good. Blaster, lead the way."

Optimus and Blaster swiftly swept out of the medbay. Wheeljack put away the medical tools as Prowl climbed off the berth and tentatively planted one pede on the ground. He walked around slowly and gave a small nod. "Prowl's all good now, by the way."

"Good. All of you, out."

Once everyone has left, Ratchet locked the door, covered all the cameras that he'd found installed in the room in the many years on the Ark. He pulled up a chair next to the Decepticon's berth, trying to think of what to ask and ways to phrase his sentence, because it was always difficult to pry info out of the stoic mech. They sat for a while, just observing each other until Ratchet broke the silence.

"Ok. 'Yes' by blinking your visor light, no by offlining it. Clear?"

Soundwave was practically radiating with contempt, but he blinked.

"Were you asking to be put with Thundercracker?"

A blink.

"Is there anything between you two?"

A few minutes of silence. A blink, then Soundwave offlined his visor. So was that a maybe? Or he just didn't want to confirm anything?

Ratchet hated to admit it, but Soundwave was one of the most brilliant mechs out there, not just within the Decepticon army. It was either him or Starscream, and the seeker wasn't exactly available for questioning. If they really did recruit someone new like Wheeljack had suggested, then the Autobots would be in trouble, because they had virtually no files on that unknown mech.

"Did you create the virus?"

This time, Soundwave watched the medic with something almost akin to curiosity, as if contemplating whether he should indulge the other mech. Then he blinked very, very slowly.

Oh great. Soundwave was a friggin' genius. Blaster was going to be sullen for a while.

"Your neck... has scars on them. Why? Is it related to your vocal mods?"

The Decepticon stared at him. He didn't blink, he didn't offline his visor. Ratchet waited for a while but there was no other reaction. He was simply ignoring the medic's question. Ratchet had anticipated as much.

Ratchet stood up and inject Soundwave with tranquilizers and sensory dampeners. He made sure the blue tapedeck was deep under before getting out and locking the medbay.

It took over a joor before Prime left his chamber and walk into the rec room. Ratchet had rightfully assumed he would go there when the talk was over, and had been waiting patiently near the energon dispenser. He had convinced Beachcomber that he'd take his shift, and put on a convincing (at least he thought so) act of a murderous stressed-out medic who needed a spontaneous break from routine. Beachcomber, ever understanding, had agreed. And judging from the lack of visitors to the rec room, the mech had apparently warned the others about his present homicidal tendencies.

The Prime walked in, but his strides were slow and hesitant, as if he was in deep thought. Yet there was an odd relaxation and spring to his body language. Optimus's optics were wider and brighter than normal. He was bewildered and confused, Ratchet could tell.

"Prime? You OK? Did Megatron upset you?"

The red and blue truck seemed to be jostled out of his reverie, and when he spoke, his voice was airy and barely above a whisper.

"Oh, no... it's nothing like that... It's just... I think I've just had the most civilized conversation with Megatron since the start of the war."

The white medic was a little concerned at how disoriented the Prime was being. He was looking in Ratchet's direction, but he was looking right through him. What had they spoken about that left Optimus so shocked? "Prime?"

The Prime's mind didn't even appear to be on Earth any more. "He didn't throw in any derogatory remarks, no mocking quips, no accusations. Sure, there were still sneers and contempt, but he didn't seem intent on psychologically manipulating or humiliating me. We just... talked. Like two disillusioned leaders complaining about life. It was almost... nice, in a peculiar way." For a moment, Optimus' eyes clouded with nostalgia and a hint of longing. "That was cruel of him, reminding me of bygone days... Was it his goal to make me miserable?"

The Autobot leader shrugged his shoulders. "But then again, hasn't it always been his goal to do so?"

Ratchet wanted to ask, but decided against it. Personal memories were something not meant to be pried unless voluntarily shared.

"Did he talk about prisoner exchange, or anything of that nature?"

"That's... also another strange part." Optimus said slowly. "When I asked him about it, he only said that if 'those two incompetent idiots' got captured of their own will, then they can get out on their own. These two are among his most invaluable soldiers. His indifference struck me as out of character. He seemed more interested in talking to me than anything else."

"Then... how should we deal with Thundercracker and Soundwave? They are both stubborn, and I don't think they'd cooperate unless we put them in the same brig."

"That'd really increase their chance of escape, though."

"Well, we could always increase surveillance and guards. Call me crazy, but... They seem almost desperate to stay near each other, and I don't think it has anything to do with tactical advantages."

"It... appears that way to me also. I think that's fine, as long as we're being cautious."

Ratchet passed him a small energon cube, and he nodded his thanks. After a few minutes, Optimus spoke again, quieter this time.

"He was alone in his chamber when we talked. I... I don't know. It was so personal all of a sudden."

Ratchet left the Prime to his own thoughts. They didn't say a word go each other after that.

Soundwave steeled himself for his encounter with Thundercracker as he was escorted to the brigs. When Ratchet had roused him from his slumber and told him they would be in the same brig, the tapedeck had second thoughts. His plan had worked, but now he was presented with a much bigger problem. He didn't know how to act at all around the seeker, and his lack of speech would only make it more difficult.

Thundercracker was sitting on a corner bench, his wings tense and high, servos balled into fists. When the door opens, he lifted his helm to see Soundwave being pushed into his cell. Relief was all Soundwave could see on Thundercracker's faceplate as he looked up and down the tapedeck's frame. As soon as the escorting Autobots went out of sight, Thundercracker was up and striding towards him.

The teal mech said nothing as he stared at Soundwave, and Soundwave began to shift on his feet when the tension in the cell became to much to bear. In a split second, Thundercracker's expression of immense relief warped into one of unrestrained fury, and the Seeker growled viciously at the telepath.

"You...! You idiot!"

Soundwave flinched at the unexpected outburst. He had expected Thundercracker to be at ease when he saw the tapedeck again, but instead the teal mech was outraged. His processor unhelpfully and irrelevantly pointed out to him the way the Seeker's frame brimmed with barely suppressed anger, how the corners of his mouth turned down into a frown, the tightly drawn optic ridges, straight wings, narrowed optics burning with anger... His mind also supplied to him that an angry Thundercracker was a very handsome Thundercracker.

Soundwave shivered a little at the intensity of the gaze boring holes into his helm.

"You absolutely hopeless moron... Why'd you have to take a shot for me? You're not build to shield others! My armors' much more reinforced than yours!"

He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly remembered his present handicap. So instead he shook his head lightly.

"They didn't experiment on you or anything, did they?"

Again he shook his head. Thundercracker seemed a bit puzzled. "Why aren't you talking?"

The blue tapedeck pressed his digits against his battlemask, then made a cross symbol. Thundercracker paused, then hissed furiously.

"They muted you? How dare they touch you? I'll kill them, I swear to Unicron..."

Well that was... somewhat unexpected. Seekers were naturally possessive, some obsessively so. Thundercracker's possessiveness was moderate compared to most Seekers he had seen, but never in a hundred vorns would he imagine himself the subject of such sentiment.

It had been a while since he used his playback functions. He compiled some archived snippets into a sentence. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing.

"Thundercracker: calm down. Soundwave: fully functional."

The other didn't reply, but he relaxed significantly when he knew Soundwave could still find ways to converse with him. Thundercracker stepped further into Soundwave's personal space so that their chassis almost touched, and started to thoroughly pat him down for injuries, at least as thoroughly as his cuffed servos would allow. Soundwave winced slightly as hands pressed against his side. The welds on the wounds there were still fresh and thus still tender. The teal Seeker halted his administrations and offered an apologetic smile. Soundwave lightly shook his helm to indicate that he didn't mind the sting, and that he appreciated the gesture. There was never a need to check in the first place, as the Autobot medic had always been more than capable in his profession, but the telepath didn't point that out. It was nice to have someone besides his symbionts who genuinely cared for his well-being for a change.

Thundercracker's frame rumbled as he chuckled. "I seriously want to hug you right now. But, you know." He rattled the stasis cuffs strapped to his wrist. "Circumstances."

Soundwave blinked, surprised at the ease with which the statement rolled off the tip of the Seeker's glossa. The Communications Officer would burn in the Pit before he did the same thing. Besides, Soundwave had never been a loquacious mech. Words were powerful and deceitful tools. That was partly why he never spoke more than absolutely necessary - it was always better to say little than too much.

The Communications Officer mulled over his response carefully. He did not want to send the wrong message - everything's already complicated the way it was - and in the end settled for a simple sentence.

"Maybe later."

Thundercracker's optics lit up the way they did whenever Soundwave agreed to let things go his way, and the teal mech's grin was a handsomely roguish upturn of one corner of his mouth. "I'll remember to remind you about that."

The air seemed to have been sucked out of the command room completely.

Ratchet's jaw was locked in place from the shock, and he couldn't will his uncooperative vocals to speak. That had explained everything. Ratchet felt a momentary pride in his ability to judge actions, but then looked to his side and slapped an exasperated hand on his face.

Prowl's processor had already crashed, and the unfortunate mech stood frozen near the desk. Apparently the percentage of a developing romantic interest between the teal Seeker and the Decepticon Communications Officer was so improbable to Prowl that he didn't even deem it worth calculating. But then again, half the Autobots present were staring slack-jawed at the surveillance screen, the other half just looking dumbly at each other.

Not Optimus Prime, though. At first the Autobot leader were also shocked speechless, but the perplexed expression was soon replaced by a softer look. Ratchet gawked dumbfoundedly at the melancholy in the Prime's optics. He had a nagging gut feeling it had something to do with that talk between the Prime and the Decepticon warlord.

Ratchet stared back at the monitor again. Maybe it was just a hallucination, a trick on the optics. But sure enough, there they were, proximity suggesting a level of trust and intimacy he'd thought impossible. The words were too hushed for him to catch, but they were filled with joy and playfulness. It was as if there was nobody but the two of them together, lost in their own little world.

Ratchet had been in love a few times. He was old, and throughout his life he had met an impressive number of couples, enough for him to become an insightful and attentive observer. Ratchet knew the tiny touches, the soft petting of servos, the constant desire for proximity and the way two mechs looked at each other when they were absolutely smitten with one another. The white medic carefully scrutinized the surveillance camera, looking for familiar signs. There was definitely the spark, a tiny kindle, maybe, but not yet a flame.

Ratchet switched off the surveillance cams. It felt wrong, alien even, to witness something so ... raw, so intimate among their enemy faction. It was things like this that made the medic question the Autobots' natural assumptions of Decepticons. As cruel, vindictive and manipulative as they were, they weren't sparkless. They could still love. It also filled him with the irrational hope that this war could have a peaceful ending without the annihilation of one faction.

Hoist snapped out of his stupor to inquire him. "What are you doing? We need to supervise them 24/7!"

"We don't need to watch this."

"Are you going soft on them? They could be acting for all we know!" Cliffjumper chimed in. Ratchet eyed the minibot.

"I am not, but I can assure you this is no faking. Remember Thundercracker's capture? Don't you ever wonder why he was so uncharacteristically enraged by the fact that Soundwave was shot?" Bumblebee's faceplate lit up in understanding. "I feel we should not intrude. Would you like it if others do this to you?"

"Ratchet's right." Optimus sternly said. "We should respect their privacy."

"But..."

"No. We'll wait for a while until they've fallen into recharge. Then you all can voyeur to your spark's content." Ratchet shrugged. "We're not Decepticons. Switch the cameras on in half a joor. Soundwave's systems is still weakened, so I'm predicting his recharge cycle will start soon in order to recuperate his body."

"... I guess this isn't time to talk. We're being watched."

Soundwave knew Thundercracker would try to broach the topic, but he still had the sensibility not to do it now. At least it would buy the tapedeck more time to sort his processor out. "Affirmative."

The teal seeker looked at him with desperation and confusion in his optics. "Then promise not to run away or avoid me when we get out of here?"

Soundwave hesitated before playing a very quiet affirmative, and Thundercracker said no more.

He was ushered towards the bench, where the two of them sat down and leaned against eachother. They didn't talk about why, or make up an excuse, since both knew there was none anyway. Soundwave listened to Thundercracker's quieting systems as the seeker drifted into recharge, and powered his own systems down.

Ratchet watched the two Decepticons leaning against each other, blissfully peaceful in rest, and briefly wondered what this world had come to.

I don't mean to abandon this fic, don't fret. With the first year of college, I just haven't the time to write down the ideas and connect the paragraphs into a complete chapter.

Thank you for waiting, and please enjoy.