Title: Everything You Never Wanted – Interlude: Council
Author: AotA
Rating: K
Characters: Smokescreen
Setting: Bayverse, Cybertron
Chapter Summary: Smokescreen returns to contingent for the first time after he was taken from cadre and clade to be Reforged. He comes seeking the council of his kin: the council of a Focus.
Notes: speedwriting prompt that went rather off topic, unwelcome guest This occurs chronologically a fair ways into the future of EYNW, and after another interlude I'm working on that I'm calling "Reforge".

When the door opened and a figure stepped through, stillness and silence rippled through the crowd of mechs. Rows of red optics latched onto the newcomer. A flicker of comm traffic, restricted to Enforcer channels had the white body of mechs shifting subtly.

"Peace," the noble mech said, blue optics scanning the crowd before they landed on one mech in particular. His field spread out, touching in a way that was familiar to each mech in the room. The unfamiliar mech felt like kin. The mech knelt, shocking them all. No mech who bore an immortal spark would ever kneel to the ephemeral preprogrammed. "I seek council," he said simply, holding out his hands, palms facing up as long, delicate looking, golden fingers uncurled, framed by paired thumbs on each hand.

A mech stepped forward from the crowd, looking just the same as any other, but everyone watching knew that appearances were deceptive, "What sort of council do you seek, stranger?"

Blue and red optics met, "I seek the council of my first kin. I seek a mech who would stand in the place of my Lost Focus."

Dead silence.

"You declare us your first kin." It was a statement of fact.

"Yes," the stranger said.

"Then tell us," the white mech said, "who were you?"

"Smokescreen," the noble replied, "Wing of the complete cadre of the Lost Focus Prowl, former disciple of Focus Downlink."

"Downlink is no longer caged," the Enforcer said.

Smokescreen bowed his head and replied in a voice that spoke both of his grief and his relief for the old Focus, "May his spark know freedom."

"Rise, Wing-kin Smokescreen," the Enforcer said after a moment, "We acknowledge your claim of kinship, no matter the frame you wear. I am Focus Glimmer, former disciple of Focus Downlink."

"Glimmer?" Smokescreen asked as he rose to his pedes, taking a step closer, "You were much younger the last time I knew the contingent."

Glimmer gave a tense shrug-twitch of his sensor wings.

It didn't need to be said that it was the way of things.

"Your spark is younger than it was the last time the contingent knew you," Glimmer replied. His head tilted ever so slightly, "You were Reforged."

"Yes," Smokescreen replied.

Glimmer nodded, "Is your spark freer? Is the burden of living lighter?"

Smokescreen's optics dimmed slightly, "In some ways yes."

"Then in others it is not," Glimmer said, "That is the way of things." The Focus gestured Smokescreen closer and when the Reforge was close enough, white arms wrapped around Smokescreen's slim waist and tugged him into an embrace that aligned their sparks and fields. "Ah," the Focus murmured at the feel, "Your spark is warm, brother." He leaned back after a long moment, "I would have a new Imprint of you. To teach those our kin yet to come."

Smokescreen stopped, "An Imprint? Of me?"

"Yes," Glimmer said, running heavy white claws down the delicate golden trim of the vents the framed Smokescreen's golden face, "You, who were Reforged but would still claim us as your kin, we would appreciate knowing your mind for all of time as time continues to pass us by. So that we would know you should you return again and wish to claim us still."

Smokescreen's field was heavy with emotion and he gently brought their sensory chevrons together. "Thank you," he said, voice thick, "I would always claim you. I would not wish to be forgotten."

Glimmer's wings shifted and the panels wrapped around to form a comforting, protective arc, "Then you will not be." When Smokescreen calmed, Glimmer stepped back, "Now tell me, what council do you seek?"

Smokescreen sighed, "I have seen my Lost Core, my Focus. I..."

"You do not know what to do," Glimmer said sadly.

"No," the blue and gold mech admitted.

"Is he well?" Glimmer asked, sorrow shading the sadness of the expected negative.

"He is," Smokescreen said, remembering the fierce, raptorial gaze and the predatory grace that he had seen as his Lost Core had padded by among a group of mechs, part of a vigorous debate on tactics. Prowl had seemed alive in a way that Smokescreen had never known him to be. It had been like looking at an entirely different mech. "His spark was lighter than I had ever known it to be the entire time I knew him." In that way, Smokescreen felt like a failure because of that.

"Then be glad for him," Glimmer said, "Wish him continued health and well-being."

Smokescreen wasn't sure he could bring himself to be. Prowl, who he had thought long dead, had been happy in a way Smokescreen had never been able to provide.

He was jealous, and jealousy could be an ugly, ugly thing.

He wanted to have been the one to do that for Prowl, not the mech who had taken Prowl away.

"I don't know if I can," he said at last, "He was my everything."

"You can," Glimmer said, "You were Reforged. You need to remember that you no longer his Wing and that if your former Core is alive and doing well despite the spark match, then you should not jar anything. That could endanger him."

Smokescreen's optics shut off for several ventilation cycles as he tried to believe it, the way he had believed in the words of Downlink. Even after all the time that had passed, all the grief and pain and remaking of his very essence, Glimmer's words soothed the part of him that held a Focus as beloved, who knew what was right and wrong, who protected their kin from those things that would hurt them.

Everything clicked into place.

No.

No, he did not want Prowl to be put in danger from his interference.

Smokescreen bit back the sadness.

Glimmer was right.

He couldn't do that to Prowl.

Smokescreen bowed his head and placed his hands together, "Thank you, Focus Glimmer, for your council."

A white hand was placed on his shoulder, "You are kin, Smokescreen. You merely need to ask, brother."