A/N: Sorry it took a whole week to get this up. School is starting to kick my trash. I've got two papers due before Dec 6 so I'm not guaranteeing any more updates until after that time. As much as I would like it to be otherwise, school is supposed to take precedent over trashy Transformer fanfiction. Here's an extra long update! As always, reviews are appreciated.

***

"Fraggitall! Over three weeks and you haven't gotten one scrap of useful information from the little slagger!" Ratchet cried, savoring the excuse to blow off some steam and prod at First Aid a little. "Now hand me that arc-welder!"

The patient on the table shifted his gaze to the mech standing at his other side, who was carefully removing a section of crumpled, battle-scarred plating. The red and white Protectobot put the sheet of metal on the table next to him, shaking his head.

"Your hand becomes an arc-welder Ratchet, what do you need mine for?" First Aid asked with his eternal calm. The patient narrowed his optics as the doctor's mouthplate stopped moving before turning his head back to the medic on his other side.

"Mine's overheated right now." Ratchet snapped with a smile. "And you're changing the subject."

First Aid passed his welder over the prone Autobot's opened chest to his colleague. "I'm not changing the subject. It's true I've gotten less information from Frenzy than I had expected to at this point. But keep in mind that he's only been awake for one twelfth of the time. Altogether he's only been online for about a day's time since I first told him about Optimus' offer." He tapped his faceplates. "Do you have the five-micron snips?" he asked.

The patient watched Ratchet's faceplates very carefully, as he handed the tool over. "How has he been reacting to the offer?" the medic asked over the hiss of the arc-welder.

First Aid adjusted the overhead light to get a better look at what he was doing. "He hasn't really talked about it, and I wouldn't really expect him to. It's got to be a hard thing to adjust to, getting used to the idea of switching sides. Since the sparkling started moving he's taken a much greater interest in knowing what's going on as far as its condition is concerned. He has seemed more…upbeat…ever since I told him though. Which is amazing considering how he must be feeling physically."

Ratchet grunted as he adjusted the setting on First Aid's welder to make it hotter. Running it cooler may keep it from overheating and wearing out, but it was so fraggin' slow. First Aid pretended not to notice. "How's he holding up? In your opinion I mean…Slag, it's been so long since I've worked in sparking, I hardly remember what's normal anymore."

"His body's starting to show the strain." First Aid replied, not taking his optics from his work, "It's the usual problems that crop up after the half-way point, only exacerbated: discomfort, nausea, some pain in the systems the protoform capsule is pressing against. But it's doubly unlucky that his systems seem to run hot and dirty normally. He's burning through everything faster than we can replace it: oil, energon, hydraulic fluids, and especially those nanites. I've never seen a mech or femme produce so many nanites, and then burn through them so fast. Perceptor's taken a huge interest, and of course, he has his theories."

Ratchet sighed behind his smirk, "And what do you think of them?" The patient on the table made a face as the medic gently smoothed the cooling weld, and pulled out some pliers to fix a bent hydraulic.

"I'm more concerned with Frenzy's condition than I am the reasons surrounding it. Perceptor's theories may be interesting, but they haven't led to anything that I can put into practice to help." First Aid lifted out the damaged portion of the auxiliary fuel tank that he'd just snipped away, and got started preparing a patch over the clean square hole he'd cut. "I'm most concerned about Frenzy's cosmotron. If it starts to give out we'll need to deliver right away."

Ratchet nodded his head. "Well hey, it's only about one more week until the sparkling's viable right? It's two months in a week."

First Aid shook his head, serenely serious. "If we were dealing with a regular-sized mech or femme two months should be plenty of time for the sparkling to mature. The Minibots usually go two and a half months, since their systems have to work harder. I delivered from a few of –these- back on Cybertron." He said tapping on his patient's chest. The Autobot on the table looked at him quizzically. "But if Frenzy were to deliver in three weeks his sparkling should be twice the size that it is now, and its systems should be much more mature. If we only had the sparkling to consider I would say it would be best for it to be carried for another five weeks, at least." The doctor leaned in close to inspect his finished patch before nodding to his colleague. "Frenzy's stable now, and things are going about as well as I could expect. But it could all go downhill very fast."

Ratchet snorted as he closed up the last few panels on their patient, "And you're supposed to be the optimistic one…" he cracked. "You about done?"

First Aid gave the patch one last look-over before his closed up the panel he'd been working through. The damaged panel would be repaired, but their patient was okay to walk around the base without it, as long as he was careful. "Yes, I'm all finished. Anything else you want to ask before we turn his audio receptors back on?"

"You think the kid can handle this?"

First Aid tapped his faceplates. "I've no doubt that if he really wants it Frenzy will come out of this with a sparkling." He gave a light chuckle and shook his head, "But whether or not he'll be able to handle that is anyone's guess. If he stays, Ratchet, that kid is gonna need a lot of help."

"To bad we don't have some bleeding-heart doctor to hover like a traffic 'copter over them both." Ratchet grinned. Then reached behind the yellow head of their patient and flipped his audio receptors back on. "Heya Bumblebee, how're you feeling?" He asked.

The little, yellow Minibot shot the two medics a thumbs-up. "Feelin' just great doc! And other doc! Thanks you guys."

"Hey, that's what we're here for." First Aid said patting Bumblebee gently on the back. "Now you can move around base until we get this plate finished, but be careful."

The Autobot Scout started moving eagerly to the door of the medbay, "Sure thing First Aid!"

"And next time you're fighting Decepticons, Bumblebee, try not to jump in front of the laser blasts." Ratchet called after him. The yellow bug waved them goodbye, distracted.

Bumblebee strolled down the halls of headquarters, lost in thought and looking for someone, anyone, to ask about what he'd read from Ratchet's lips while his audio receptors had been turned off. Who's having a sparkling around here? Bumblebee wondered, and why is this the first I've heard about it? Catching sight of Bluestreak, the little car hurried to catch up with him. If anyone around here knows what's going on, it's Bluestreak.

***

As the wall of the cell swung open Optimus Prime resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was frustrated. Sure, he'd anticipated this. But he'd started to hope that he would be given the opportunity to present all the facts to the Autobots clearly and at a carefully chosen time; instead of fighting the rumors that had seemed to spread like an oil spill, quickly touching everyone and with no clear indication of who had said what, when.

Somehow Bluestreak and Bumblebee had gotten wind of something, and like the friendly, curious mechs they were they'd asked everyone else about it. Facts came together, high-grade loosened lips, and soon the whole story, and then some, was buzzing around base. It couldn't have been Tracks who'd let it slip first, he may not be able to keep quiet about his own appearance, but he did know how to keep official secrets; at least until everyone around him knew the secret, and knew it wrong. And the corvette hadn't known Frenzy was carrying. Prime strongly suspected that someone on the medical staff was to blame, but he really wasn't in the mood for a witch hunt. After all, with both First Aid and Ironhide indicating a strong possibility of the Cassetticon staying with them, if not switching sides outright, it was about time the rest of the Autobots were told. Not that their opinions would have any bearing on Optimus' decision. But they were going to have to live with it. Him. Them.

Optimus suddenly regretted his decision to talk to Frenzy from behind the bars. It seemed too cold. After all Frenzy shouldn't feel like he was some kind of zoo animal just because he was a prisoner. However, the way the Cassetticon slowly sat up on his berth, staring at him with irritated curiosity, let Optimus know that closing the wall again and heading into the cell would only make the situation more awkward. I should have been down to see him before this… Prime thought. I should have been checking up on him. But he'd been busy. Primus, he was always busy. Running a two-front war against a foe that cannot be attacked directly without incurring precious civilian casualties, dealing with the complex machinations of human governments--the leader of the Autobots had little time to sit down next to the young, carrying mech, and tell him how much he'd been weighing on Prime's mind.

Besides, according to First Aid and Ratchet, Ironhide was doing an admirable job looking out for the Cassette in is free time. He'd had lots of free time lately. Optimus had made sure of it.

"Frenzy," Optimus said, carefully. "How're you feeling?"

The Decepticon leaned his back against the wall, looking exhausted. "I swear to the Pit and Primus that if one more fraggin' Autobot asks me how I'm feeling I'm gonna flip a freakin' gasket," he said, slow and even. "How the frag do you think I'm feelin'?"

"I'm sure I wouldn't know." Optimus answered.

"Yeah, well ya wouldn't know any better if I told ya."

"Fair enough," Optimus kept his voice neutral. "I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to make you more comfortable. First Aid tells me that you're in for another four or five weeks."

Frenzy snorted, "Well he's the expert, isn't he?" he snapped sarcastically as he flipped on the TV and started channel surfing. "I would be more comfortable if I wasn't stuck in a boring, orange box, surrounded by cable-yanking Autobots who are constantly comin' in here to tell me slag I already know. But since THAT isn't gonna happen anytime soon…" he trailed off, staring at the TV.

"As long as First Aid okays it, I would be willing to grant you some supervised time outside your cell." Optimus offered, "First Aid or Ironhide could take you around, let you meet some of the other Autobots."

The Cassetticon perked up, "The other slaggers know now? Ironhide said mosta the grunts didn't know."

Optimus nodded, "We tried to keep it on a need-to-know basis, it's true. But you must know how hard it is to keep things secret on base. Once it got out, there was no sense hiding it anymore."

"It was that lube-sucking microscope wasn't it? That slagger will not stop talking for anything!"

"We don't know who it was. And it doesn't really matter. What matters is that they know, and many of them have expressed an interest in meeting with you."

"I'll fraggin' bet they have!" Frenzy sneered. "Probably got some scores to settle."

Prime shook his head. "No Frenzy, they just want to talk to you. They're curious, not vengeful. Any sign of confrontation, on your part too, and whoever is supervising you will take you back to your cell."

Frenzy leaned forward, to get a better look at the tall mech on the other side of the bars. "You're serious?"

The Autobot Leader raised a finger, "Yes. The only condition I have is that you must first talk to First Aid, Ironhide, Ratchet or myself about what…"he paused getting a grip on his anger before it could rise, "what happened before. Why you were attacking the lighthouse, why you were alone, among…other…things." Frenzy had lain back down on his berth as Optimus started listing the questions. He rolled over and faced the wall. The dents were still there.

Prime waited, for what seemed like a long time to him. Then he checked his internal chronometer, noting that he had a meeting with Prowl and Silverbolt soon. Why aren't there more breems in a cycle? he thought. "Frenzy, why don't you talk to us?" he asked, covering up his frustration with compassion. "We're not going to hurt you."

"Just let me go." The figure on the berth moaned into the wall.

"We're not doing that either. Not until you talk to us." Optimus replied firmly.

"You can't keep me here forever." Frenzy retorted, without moving.

"It's a very long time until we get to forever, Frenzy."

Another long pause as Optimus ticked down the seconds he had remaining until his meeting. Finally he closed the wall back up and walked away. Close to convincing him, First Aid? Really? I'm not convinced. He rubbed his optics, pushing the situation out of his processor as best he could. He couldn't let it affect his meeting with Silverbolt and Prowl. It seems like we're just going in circles… he thought before he banished it completely from his mind, for the moment at least.

***

Frenzy rolled over and glared up at the grate. There was a flicker across his face, and then he glared even harder, looking at the two yellow optics that had been staring at him for the past couple seconds. It's about fraggin time! Eleven days; what the slag is wrong with them? I was starting to freak out again. I mean damn, eleven days! Eleven days of feeling more and more exhausted and uncomfortable every breem. Eleven days of avoiding questions and steering conversations to safe topics so he wouldn't make 'em suspicious. Eleven days of feeling the little slagger kicking him harder, and then harder. Eleven days of that stupid cowboy crap. Those strut-shiners have got some serious explainin to do!

There was a faint scratching noise, and a low, deep, hum that only a Cassetticon could have heard thrummed through the cell. A jamming frequency? Frenzy peered into the corners of the room. He hadn't noticed any cameras, but that didn't mean there weren't any. And Beaky knew how to jam a camera so its own creator wouldn't know it was reading false.

A small, purple, rectangle was pushed through the holes in the grate, and Frenzy grinned as the rectangle grew, and transformed as it fell. Stupid fraggers, made the hole perfect Cassetticon size. The red and black Decepticon stood up as his brother landed.

"'Bout time you fraggers got here! Dammit Rumble I was--"

Rumble charged over to him, his visor flashing with anger. Frenzy tried to back away but was blocked by the berth, so he sat back down. The purple Decepticon grabbed his shoulders and squeezed them in his grip until Frenzy was sure he was denting his plating.

"Who the FRAG do you think you are?" he hissed.

"Bro, I—"

"Don't you 'bro' me you glitching, little lube-stain! Do you know the slag I had to go through cuz you had to run off and deal with your goddamn emotions?" He shook his brother slightly. "Dammit Frenzy do you know what I had to do? How much whining and wheedling and bitching it took ta get Soundie to let me come in here and talk some sense into ya?"

"S… S…Soundwave?"

Rumble dropped Frenzy's shoulders and started wagging a finger violently right under his visor. "That's right aft-wipe, Soundwave was all ready to write you off! Figured if you wanted to get back to us, ya would fraggin' have done it already. You know the rules: keep up or keep inside. Get back however you can, cuz ain't nobody coming for ya!"

Frenzy was too flustered to process any of that, and kept glancing up at Laserbeak in the grate. "But…"

"But NOTHING!" Rumble hissed again. I seemed like it was taking a supreme effort to keep from yelling. "Soundie sent Buzzy and Beaky out to look for you the first couple days, sure. Cuz he's that kinda guy. But when Megatron asked where Laserbeak was after he wasn't back in time for a fight Soundwave had to wait until things quieted down to start looking again, and he wasn't really in the mood to look to long and hard by that point. Dammit Frenzy, I had to tell him everything and then some! I don't think I've ever lied so hard in my life! And nobody had any fraggin idea where the hell you were!"

Rumble was pacing back and forth now, glancing up at the Cassette in the grate again. "Right Beaky? Pit, it wasn't until we checked the local news that we saw about that stupid squishy lighthouse."

He stared at his brother in disbelief. "A lighthouse? Really? You are as fraggin dumb as you look. I mean, you didn't even make basic cable on that one! If you're gonna throw a tantrum, go someplace easier to slam into and with morea those earth-bugs to squish. Destroying public property without casualties doesn't get you shit for publicity these days."

"So…" Frenzy started tentatively.

"I'm not fraggin' done yet! Ya gotta hear the whole fuckin' story so you can know just exactly how much of a stupid little lube-sucking, aftwipining, glitch-head you've been. I mean, shit Frenzy, you got a Betamax for a brain? I could slaggin' download your whole stupid mind onto a defective floppy disk and have some crippled, organic meatbag rip it up with his bare hands, couldn't I?!" Rumble smiled humorlessly, allowing himself to enjoy a little bit his revenge.

"So after Beaky had FINALLY tracked you down, what does he fraggin record?" Rumble gestured frantically around the room "This shit! What the hell is all this shit?" his arms transformed to drivers as he talked, and Frenzy became terrified that he would smash into the things he was railing against and give them away. Ironhide was never very far these days. "Medical monitors? Energon lines? Weird fraggin locked container things!" He swung his driver threateningly at each one. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I…uh…" The red and black Cassetticon was suddenly very embarrassed as he tried to avoid looking around the cell that seemed filled with medical equipment. Primus, I'm such a slaggin moron… He couldn't finish his thought out-loud though, since Rumble was suddenly right in his face, his visor inches from his own.

His brothers voice was a hiss of choked anger, and beneath it something else. "What the hell are you doin' Frenzy?" Something about he way he asked it…Frenzy knew his brother already had most of the answer.

"I…I thought you guys would be coming for me sooner…" Frenzy mumbled, though he finally was feeling his anger start to stir. It had taken long enough in his opinion. Rumble oughtta understand…

"So?" The question was almost a threat.

"So, I couldn't fraggin' let them do it." Frenzy willed some of his anger to come out in his voice. "And eventually it was that or this. The goddamn cable-tuggers, wouldn't let me go and wouldn't give me any other choice."

"You're still sparked up, aren't you?" Rumble accused, sneering.

Now Frenzy was really mad. It was refreshing after eleven days of persistent, boring, hope. "I thought that you, you at least, would be comin' for me sooner!" He spat. "I mean, yeah, the rest of the slaggers'll leave us behind, but we're fraggin' brothers. We're fraggin' Cassettes! We're supposed to have each other's backs!"

Rumble poked him, hard, in the chest, and Frenzy had to choke down a groan. "I slaggin' came for you as soon as I could, you little spark-sucker! I don't know why now. Cuz Pit knows you don't deserve it. I mean, who the slag do you think you are? You think you're better than the rest of us? Huh? You think your purge don't corrode plating? Why the hell do you think you can run off and have a slaggin' hissy fit, get captured, and then lie around goddamn Autobot Headquarters and expect us to come looking for you? If you'd just had 'em do it you could have escaped by now you glitch-head! " He poked him in the chest again, harder, and this time Frenzy let out a strangled moan and tried to slap his brother's hand away. Primus, it HURT. "That's what you fraggin' should have done! Get back however you can! Remember!"

"Is that what YOU would have done?" Frenzy snarled, too weak to push Rumble's hand completely away, but too stubborn to stop trying. Then he froze. Then Rumble froze. And something between them moved, again.

Rumble stared down at Frenzy's chest and his finger on it, and for a second the rest of his fingertips found their way to the warm plating. When the sparkling kicked again Frenzy saw his brother's visor flash before he pulled his hand away quickly like the plating had suddenly become acid.

"Pit…" he muttered.

"What would you have done, huh Rumble? If it were you and yours? Would you let the Autobots take your sparkling off-line? You know what they're like…"

Rumble stared at Frenzy's chest for a while, his face unreadable, before sighing loudly; letting everyone know that wherever the conversation had been going, the subject was now changed. "Well bro, how the hell do you see yourself getting out of this? We can't get you out through the grate, and Beaky says that that's the only way outta this cell other than the halls. And I don't know if he can jam that many sensors at once." There was a quiet metallic squawk from the ceiling, Rumble waved it off, "Yeah, yeah, I know YOU think you can…"

"Is there any way you can get the walls open, Laserbeak?" Frenzy asked, a faint caw answered in the negative.

Rumble was pacing back and forth now, realizing he'd eaten up too much of his time browbeating his brother. "Is there anyway those Autoboobs would let you outta here? Like if you faked sick or something?"

"Faked sick?" Frenzy asked incredulously, gesturing to the monitors. Rumble flipped him the bird.

"Well, is there any fraggin' way you ever get out of this stupid orange box?"

Frenzy drummed his fingers on his leg nervously, "They told me that if I talked to one of their fraggin docbots about stuff. They would let me around base supervised, an if I can get the dumb slaggers to trust me then I might get some time unsupervised."

"What kinda stuff?" Rumble asked guardedly.

Frenzy sneered. "What kinda stuff you think? They're fraggin' Autobots."

The purple Decepticon shook his head in disgust. "But they wouldn't want any, like, secret info?"

"Naw…they're suckers. Told me that I could…" Frenzy trailed off. And it was fortunate that Laserbeak started cawing softly to give him a good excuse.

"Someone's coming." Rumble whispered.

Checking his internal chronometer Frenzy suddenly swore, "It's the fraggin cowboy crap!" He hissed as he lay back down on the berth and started frantically changing the channels.

"What the hell?"

Frenzy pointed to the grate. "Get!" he shushed. "Go tell Soundwave whatever the slag you need too. And ask him what he wants me to do."

Rumble nodded and fired his thrusters, transforming as he flew through the tiny hole in the grate. Frenzy managed to find the right channel just as the wall started to open. Ironhide came in, carrying a cube of high-grade. He'd taken to drinking a little while they watched the show. Just because he knew it torque the kid's crankcase a little, and made him think about exactly why he couldn't have any.

"Heya kid. An I ain't gonna ask it cuz Prime already tol' me that yer sicka hearin it." He took his seat in and kicked back a little. "An' no, you can't have any." He rumbled with a half-grin as he raised his high-grade.

Frenzy half grinned back, and since he was trying so very hard to be nonchalant he flipped him the bird.

Ironhide sighed and shook his head, "So what's this episode, ya know?"

Frenzy shrugged, "They ain't burned the slaggin' map yet. How the hell am I supposed to know?"

The opening teaser started, and Ironhide waved him down. "Well shut yer synthesizer then! Let's see if I've got this one guessed before we get to the titles."

***