Hellos! After this chapter, we'll be done with the super-angsty story-arc! I've already started chapter 36, and it's gonna be fun and cute. X)

Um... you'll have to bear with Praxus's MY grammar for a little bit, but then I switch over to normal grammar. I felt like experimenting with language, and it was interesting, but it wasn't a joy to read, so I didn't do too much of it.

Congratulations to SJSGirl for leaving the 500th comment! We have plans for a cute songfic. ;)

Chapter 35

He shuddering in house alone- All alone- one most scary thing- If hurtful something come none MY could save him- MY mistreat him because he difference but they always protect because he member-

He looking around- What sort food needing found? Not know- He take all food maybe- See which make the Starlight happy? Yes? Yes-

He opening cupboard peer inside- Reads- No! He closing door fast- Reads hurt him… Reads hurt him if he look words- He opening another cupboard- Hope it have food_

He pausing- He looking first cupboard again- Would words on reads actually hurt him? He wondering- The Masters telled him Starlights only drink MY life-En- But_ the Starlight did spitted out his MY life-En- No like- They did lying at him- They might did lying at him other things-

Why They lie about Starlights? Why They no want him near Starlights- Why? And why They no want him near reads? What if_ if he touch read? He pausing- Fearing- He trying for reason- Processor not have function for reasoning- Why? Why not? He very very very wanting know why now-

Slowly- Slowly- Slow- He opening cupboard of reads-

"Ss-!" he hissing fear at reads- Scary read- Hiss- Hiss- Hiss- Fingers touching one read- He picking up read fingers shaking- Wings shaking- He only one with wings like these- Except the Starlight- She have wings like his-

Waking up read- screen glowing- Touch touch- He closing optics fearing- But_ what if_? He opening optics slowly- Slowly- Slowly- He looking-

Words-

"With a gentle touch, the Creator sent a spark of life into the metal form that He had made, and He watched, optics gentle, as life filled the form and made it hum with vibrant life-potential."

He stopping taking optics from words- Was he hurt? He closing optics and checking- He fine- He opening optics for read more-

"The living form grew warm from the spark of life within it, and its systems evened out, the hum fading as it settled into perfection. Then the form opened its optics, and a golden light shone from them."

"Oh!" He almost dropping read- The Creator maked a living form with Golden optics? Oh! Red and Blue not only colors for optics! Oh! Oh! OH!So Purple not too strange! He grabbing another read-

"It's important to help your sparkling learn to speak by speaking with her. Of course, at this point, your little one won't be able to correctly pronounce most words, but that won't stop her from trying."

Sparkling- Little one- The Starlight was little- Was she a sparkling?

He finding picture of "Sparkling-" OH! Yes! YES! The Starlight was a sparkling- Not a Terror as he been telled- Not piece of starlight from the sky that he pretend- A sparkling-

Hungry sparkling-

He putting reads away- now searching food for his sparkling- He will call Starlight a name- Starlight a good name-

Search- Search- Where monsters keeping food?

Search more-

"Hey. Wh-What do you think you're doing?"

He freezing still- He alone from MY now here mech in room- Instinct saying kill mech but instinct saying mech might know very thing Starlight needing for eats-

Slowly- Slowly he turning- He seeing red and gray mech holding pistol-

…

Prowl paused the memory scan and deepened it at that point, and then he felt Praxus squirm a little.

~Hurts,~ Praxus whispered, and Prowl felt the younger mech trying to push him away.

~I'm sorry, but I need to have more specific detail here, ~ Prowl told him. ~Resisting will only make it hurt more,~ he added, and he felt Praxus's anxiety welling up.

~Is it all going to hurt more?~

~It might to some degree because it's more invasive,~ Prowl replied regretfully.

Resignation filled Praxus.

~I apologize.~ Prowl sent a wave of sympathy to him and then pressed back into the memory, trying to block out Praxus's whimper.

…

The mech was holding a general-stock Driver 14-07 ion-pistol. Not specialized. Indication: not a weapon mech. Everyone into weapons specializes or modifies general-stock Driver 14-07 ion-pistols.

"I looking for food," Backstab said, widening his optics and lowering his chin and wings. This posture always placated The Masters; maybe it would work with this monster. "Mine house burn down," he added, shaking his helm sadly. "I sorry, sorry. I thinked house empty. I need food for mine s…Starlight. Her hungry."

"But, you're a Decepticon." There was an accusing tone. Hand with gun shook: indication, not a shooter. Weakling.

"Don't shoot me, please." He dropped to his knees and curled, whimpering. "I just young…!" He hid his face and grieved as he'd seen weaklings do while pleading for something called 'mercy.' If weaklings did it among themselves, maybe it would work with them. "Decepticon houses burn same like Autobot houses," he said piteously. "Decepticon young get hungry same like Autobot young get hungry. Her very hungry. I have nothing for her. I not hurt you. I just looking for food for her so her not starve. Her die without food. Her need food…!"

"Um… Alright, it's okay…" the mech said slowly, sounding uncertain. "This town was just massacred by Decepticons yesterday; I… I have I the right to be suspicious."

Backstab was encouraged. His play-acting was working well. "Them evil rouge Decepticons," he said. "Kill everyone, Autobot or Decepticons. They think they become supreme over all Decepticons ever. They kill mine family. All dead. Mine femme gone. I gone out with Starlight, and I come back, find nothing."

The mech sighed. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "We've got more in common that we'd think, I guess."

"Yeah?" Backstab calculated that it was now safe to put his helm up, and he looked up at the sad-faced mech.

"I had a femme and sparkling, too. I was out getting some rock samples, and I came back to nothing but this house. They're gone."

"They dead," Backstab stated.

The mech lowered his helm. "I don't want to think that. I'm hoping that they escaped."

"Oh." Backstab not know what to think of this response. "Maybe? Mine not escape. Mine femme dead. And mine sparkling hungry. Please… h-help? Her just a sparkling."

The mech nodded. "I'll help. Sparklings are sparklings, no matter what side. And both sides get hurt."

"Yeah. We lossed everything." He watched guardedly as the mech moved toward a cupboard. Some mechs might pull out hidden weapons here, but Backstab calculated: not a weapons mech, probably not have more guns, and trusting, not try anything. The mech got out an unknown thing and a couple bottles. Then he got out a cube of Energon.

"How much Energon do you need?"

Backstab got up. "Just couple cubes, maybe? We going to big ship and base, soon."

"Alright. Here you go." His fingers almost touched Backstab's as he gave him the things.

Backstab put the things in subspace without a word, and the mech looked slightly, very slightly a little bothered.

Backstab paused. The word 'thank-you' was a word The Masters made him use to them when they gave him anything good, and they would give him grim looks before hurting him if he didn't. He wasn't sure why the mech was looking at him this way, but he wouldn't let the mech hurt him. He gave the mech a protective look.

The mech's look softened. "It's okay," he said. "The things are yours for the keeping."

Backstab hesitated, suddenly feeling that he didn't actually know how he was supposed to interact with a non-battle creature. Maybe… maybe… he had done something not-acceptable and it bothered the mech. The mech wasn't hurting him for it, though. Oh… the mech had no power over him to hurt him.

"Is there anything else you need?" the mech asked.

"Blanket." He always felt the lack of a blanket when his was gone. Starlight would want one, too.

The mech nodded. "I shoulda thought of that. Here…" He got out several nice little blankets in pastel colors. "She'll love these. My sparkling does."

"Yeah…" The blankets were very soft in his fingers, and they reminded him of what it felt like to touch Starlight.

"Anything else?"

"Um… no." Then he was done with the asset. He could kill him now, neutralize the threat. He paused. He wasn't sure.

"Alright. Have a safe trip."

"Yeah." He studied the mech a couple moments, and the mech looked back curiously.

"Is there a problem?" the mech asked.

Backstab not sure at all. The mech was nice like a brother to him. Rules said no killing brothers. He glanced around. Then he saw something. "That picture over there. Spark-ling have wings. You not have wings. Why?"

"She's adopted."

"A what?"

"Her creators are dead or missing, so we take care of her like we are her creators."

"Oh. I see." His creators were dead or missing, too. Rage. The Masters took care of him. They hurt him. "Do you hurt her?" he demanded.

"No!" the mech looked shocked and distressed. "We love her dearly and cherish her with all our sparks. We would never hurt her. Ever."

"Mine hurt me," he said. Distrust. He distrusted this mech' words. He thought he might hate the mech, too, if he had hurt Starlight.

"I'm sorry," the mech said gently. "I'm truly sorry. Guardians should never abuse their wards. It's not right. And we would never do such a thing."

"Never?"

"Never, mech, I tell you. Never. Sparklings are too precious for that. So are younglings. And adults shouldn't even be treated as they often are. All this fighting and warring and terrorizing… It's… it makes my spark hurt. We're here to love, not to fight. To build, not to tear. I'm sorry that you've been hurt."

Backstab cocked his helm, intense confusion flooding his mind. "Okay," he said uncertainly. Then he backed towards the door and left.

He walked away from the house.

"Safe travels, mech," the strange mech called from the door. "Best of luck to you with your sparkling. The winged ones are special."

Backstab stopped and looked back. "Why are they?"

"They just are."

More confusion. He went away. He had to feed Starlight.

…

Prowl gently put the memory away. He felt… felt overwhelmed. Also, his helm was starting to ache from exposure to all the unchecked feelings that Backstab had gone through. It was paining his logic core.

~Okay?~ Praxus asked anxiously.

Prowl set out an affirmation. ~Yes,~ he said quietly. ~Just… a little overwhelmed.~

~Oh,~ Praxus said uncertainly.

~Can you show me when you first punished her now?~ Prowl asked reluctantly. He knew he would hate this.

A path appeared, fear swirling around it.

~You're going to look deeply into my thoughts and feelings and connected memories, aren't you?~ Praxus asked. That was his fear, along with the fear of more pain.

~I might if I deem it necessary. I probably won't, though. I believe you didn't wish to harm her. Just a light look will probably suffice.~

Praxus's feeling of hope that edged in was dark, and his voice had a whimper in it when he spoke.

~You'll waken the memories, won't you. You'll stir them so I remember them more sharply.~

Prowl heard Praxus's tone start to get panicky. He remained still, wishing there was some way around this. He didn't want Praxus to have to relive those memories of punishment; he knew the punishments had to have been horrible. ~Be still,~ he said. Then he opened his optics slowly. He'd shut his optics to shut out all the distractions, but now he needed to talk to them for a moment.

Prowl focused on the other bots in the room. Chromia, the nearest, looked troubled and concerned, and Ironhide looked grim and concerned. Prime had the very, very calm look on his face that he had sometimes when he was troubled. Elita looked stern, almost afraid. Ratchet's helm was lowered, his optics on the table as if he was ashamed and uncomfortable. Soundwave alone looked impassive.

"Who," Prowl said quietly, "Who wants me to stir up Praxus's memories of his punishments and make them more sharp? I'm about to touch the file where he reviews them before making a decision on how to discipline Starlight, and he's afraid of it. He doesn't want to see his suffering in such detail again. Which one of you wants me to go stirring up those memories that make him scream at night? Who wants me to remind him why he's so terrified of bigger mechs? –and higher-up mechs and officers? Who wants me make him relive the reason why he's so afraid of taller femmes? Who wants me to make him recall in detail each type of lashing and beating and flogging he's received? Each cut, each welt, each bruise? And the absolute feeling of vulnerability and powerlessness? And the excruciating pain and humiliation? Who wants me to do that?"

Silence. A silence of shame and discomfort as the big bots considered what they had asked Prowl to do.

"Tell me, Elita," Prowl bit out, the sharpness of his order making her flinch.

"None of us do," she answered, looking sick. "I-I believe none of us thoroughly considered how… how this would be." For her to stumble over her words showed how shaken she truly was. As communication officer, she never stumbled on her words.

"Discontinue the sync, Prowl," Ratchet said quietly, optics still down.

Prowl felt a little malice run through his system. "I'm not done yet, Ratchet," he said, his tone silky.

"Prowl." Ratchet's tone was hollow. "Discontinue the sync."

"I told yah, I'm not done yet. Don' make me more furious, medic. Yah don' want that." Prowl flicked a glance around the table then turned his focus back on Praxus and closed his optics again. He suddenly realized how furious he truly was. His accent had slipped out, and that only happened when he was deeply enraged.

He pushed the feelings aside and focused on Praxus. Praxus was in complete and utter awe of him and deeply impressed, a tiny bit terrified, too, but awe and amazement were the stronger feelings. They washed around Prowl then stood back in reverence as he grew conscious of them.

~That was…~ Praxus searched for a word. ~That was wow.~

~"Wow" does not function as a adjective,~ Prowl said, fighting to be logical.

~Yes, sir,~ Praxus said, still in deep awe, and Prowl sensed that if he'd said Ironhide's paint-job was a twinkly lavender paint-job, Praxus would have answered him the same way. The Prowl realized that that Praxus must have sensed his thought then, for Prowl felt a little bashful amusement seep in beside the awe.

~Are you alright with showing me the memory where the mech hurt Starlight?~ Prowl asked.

~It's not pleasant, but I will do so.~ Praxus backed his words by highlighting a path.

Prowl followed it and then accessed the memory. He viewed it as lightly as possible, growing aware of how much Praxus's helm was starting to hurt. He saw how run-down the alley was, and how carefully Backstab secured the tarp over several beams. He knew how hungry Backstab was, too. It was a painful hunger that had lasted several days. They had a little amount of extra Energon that he'd acquired, but it was for Starlight. She needed some time to be awake for a while. She'd not had this time because there had hardly been any Energon available. Now that they had some, she got to eat it, and Backstab sipped quarter-rations.

Prowl felt the aches from the hunger, and he felt Backstab's terror when the mech-ling realized that someone had come upon them unawares. Backstab's longer-range sensors had been down because there'd not been enough Energon to sustain them.

There was fear then rage then hate towards the strange mech. Overpowering rage tore through every cord in Backstab's system when the mech hurled Starlight into the rubbish and struck her. MY launched into the hostile. Mission: destroy unacceptable monster.

Prowl fought back the need to gag as MY sank his fangs into the mech. MY bit and bit again and tore the monster with his fangs as he kept up a nonstop barrage of punches and kicks and talon-claws.

When the mech stopped moving, Backstab stopped attacking. Backstab was covered in the mech's life-En, and the mech-

Prowl shoved the memory away quickly, fighting a sick feeling. He was in a war. He fought. He killed. He saw damages, triage, wounds. He felt that he should have been able to look at the damaged mech, but it was too horrific.

Also. Praxus had attacked Auri for upsetting Starlight.

~I swear this wouldn't have happened to Auri!~ Praxus cried out in horror as he realized what Prowl had thought. ~I swear, I swear, I swear! I would have glitched out before going MY. Remember?~ He sounded desperately afraid that Prowl wouldn't remember or believe. ~I went MY on this mech. He triggered it. I couldn't became MY here now without triggering the glitch-out. Auri's safe from very much harm, I promise. I promise, Prowl.~ He was pleading now, and his physical form was shaking.

~Sh-shhh. It's alright. I see that now,~ Prowl reassured him gently. ~You're alright.~

~Prowl?~

~Yes?~

~Could that work for a food situation, too? I… I understand if you must scan more, but my mind aches all through and through, and it's seeping into my body.~ He sounded close to tears.

~It will work, Praxus. Yes. I am done.~

Relief flooded through Praxus, crashing down around Prowl's consciousness like a tsunami, relief so immense that it hurt.

Prowl gently retraced his steps back to the firewalls and went outside the firewalls before removing the code that locked them down.

The walls didn't rise, though.

~Anymore words before I un-sync?~ Prowl asked.

~I want Ratchet back,~ Praxus whimpered. ~I w-want him back so badly. M-my g-guardian.~ He let Prowl feel some of his raw pain, and Prowl gasped softly at just how excruciating it was to not have Ratchet's slight guardian bond.

~Praxus, I… I need to go now.~ He couldn't take five more seconds of this.

~Yes. Thank-you… thank-you for being gentle.~

Prowl ended the sync and cupped his hands around Praxus's helm, guiding it gently to the table as the younger mech crumpled.

Prowl ran a soft scan on Praxus to make sure that he was alright, and the results were reassuring. Praxus was just tired and stressed and suffering a helm-ache, nothing extraordinary considering what he'd just been through.

Silence around the table.

Then Prime shifted.

Prowl looked at him very calmly, one hand still resting on Praxus's helm.

"Did you verify the truthfulness of Praxus's statements?" Prime asked quietly.

"Oh, that I did, sir," he said. He looked around the table. "Have any of yah questions?"

Silence.

"Are all yah satisfied now?" he asked.

More silence.

"Well?" Prowl questioned.

"We request nothing further," Elita said.

"Good." Prowl's optics moved to Ratchet. "Chief Medical Officer Ratchet, sir."

Ratchet shifted.

"In light of th' evidence, Praxus is keeping his Starlight. If y' want a full report, yah'll have to wait a couple days, but y'r givin' the sparklin' back this hour." His tone was threatening.

"Understood," Ratchet said guardedly. He had half a hundred questions, but he knew not to ask them until Prowl's accent had faded. He knew that the lilting accent would crop up only when Prowl was absolutely furious, and rarely was Prowl ever roused to such fury.

"Now, for some reason, Praxus wants yah t' restore y'r guardian bond wi' him. I'm s'posed to tell yah jus' so yah'll know, since he wrecked hi' damn vocs screamin' at the pain of the loss. Not like he's got feelings or cares or anything."

Ratchet nodded, his face burning. "I-"

"I'm done here," Prowl bit out. "I'm done wi' the day. No one bothers me until tomorrow. No one." He got up, taking his hand from Praxus's helm. He paused. "An' anyone who hurts Praxus will answer t' me. As will anyone who fails t' take care of him," he added. Then he bowed curtly and walked from the room.

He was raging, burning, seething at what he'd seen and experienced –at what Praxus had experienced-, at what he'd had to stir up and revitalize in the younger mech's mind, and that he'd had to do it. Silently, mentally, he was swearing at the other bots, cursing at them. He was doing the same to himself as well, for running the scans on Praxus. He knew that wasn't logical. He knew that running the scans had been logical. But logic had decided to take a break. Raw and painful emotion was coursing through his system, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He just had to hold it in check until he reached the challenge course, the battle-training area, and then he could let loose. He would transfer every ounce of rage and feeling into his fists, and he would decimate every punch-able object until he was finished.

"Prowl-?"

"NO!" He roared, whirling to face the bot, "I'VE HAD IT WI' EV'RY DAMN BOT ON THIS HELL-"

Auri's little mouth fell open, and her optics widened with shock.

Prowl felt the burning rage in his body flood his cheeks in the form of shame as Auri took a backward step away from him. He opened his mouth, but the apology stuck and no words came out. He lowered his helm.

"It's alright, Prowl," Auri said softly, but Prowl heard a tremor in her voice. "It's okay. Y-you're stressed out. I know you didn't mean it…" She was trying to sound reassuring. She sounded more like she was going to cry, though.

"Don't cry," Prowl whispered, lifting his optics to hers. "You're right. I am stressed. I didn't mean it. I… didn't mean it to you. Everybody else, though. I…"

"It's okay, Prowl." Auri gave him a sympathetic little smile as if she understood. Maybe she really did understand. She always did, didn't she? Somehow? Was this why he loved her? He didn't know. He did know that he loved her, though. He… He wanted to kiss her…. wanted to step close and bend his helm to kiss her, pressing his lips against the bare metal skin near her optic.

He…

He glitched out.

"IRONHIDE!" Auri yelled. She wasn't big enough or strong enough to catch Prowl very well, but she broke his fall as best she could.

Ironhide was there, almost before the two wingers were fully on the floor. Prime had sent him to keep an optic on Prowl, so he'd been standing in the doorway, watching, not daring to intrude.

He lifted Prowl off Auri, and she got to her pedes with a little grunt, shrugging one scuffed shoulder to check it for discomfort. She was fine. She wasn't sure about Prowl, though. Ironhide was putting him on the couch.

"Is he alright?" she asked softly.

Ironhide looked over. "He will be alright. He's stressed…. And stressed some more. And upset. He's had too many emotions for the day."

Auri gasped. "Where's Starlight?" Her expression had gone from concerned to absolutely terrified.

"She's under the couch," Ironhide said gently, reassuring her with his tone.

"I told her to stay…" Auri looked distraught.

Ironhide approached her, a tender look in his optics. "Praxus taught her to bite to defend herself, so I'm willing to bet that he also taught her to hide when big bots start to yell." He put a hand on her helm and gently made her look up at him. "It can be tricky and trying to look after little bots, but they usually don't mean to be bad. Praxus is a higher authority to Starlight than you are, so she's going to follow his orders when they conflict with yours. And… you'll usually have to respect his wishes."

Auri nodded. Then hope filled her face, brightening her optics. "I'll have to respect his wishes- Does this mean he's getting to keep her?"

Ironhide smiled. "Yes, is does," he said. "Prowl's scan showed that Praxus wasn't lying and didn't mean for Starlight to be harmed. So, Praxus will get to keep his guardianship of Starlight. He's an ignorant little guardian, so he'll need some help and guidance, but he's smart, and he cares very much; I'm sure he'll do well."

Auri heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm glad," she said. Then she went over to the couch and got down on her belly to look under it.

Starlight hissed at her.

"Hey, Starlight. It okay. You can come now. It all safe," Auri told her encouragingly.

Starlight stared back at her with undisguised doubt.

"Come on," Auri coaxed, "It alright." She started to reach out for Starlight.

"No!" Ironhide said quickly. "Don't that. She'll bite you."

Auri paused then looked up at him. "She's not gonna bite me, Ironhide. She knows me, and she likes me."

"Any other time, probably yes, but not right now, Auri. She's been upset, so now she'll be defensive, and she will most likely bit you."

"Oh, Ironhide." Auri was dismissive and turned her attention back to Starlight.

Ironhide opened his mouth. Then he shut it. He didn't really like those times, but sometimes he had to keep his mouth shut and let his little one learn the rough way.

"Tum on, Starlight; it otay," Auri coaxed with baby talk, reaching for her. Then, she screamed. "AHHHH-AIGEEEE-"

Ironhide pulled her away from the couch by the ankles, and Starlight's little teeth were firmly enough lodged in Auri's fingers that she came, too, growling. Auri was still screaming and howling.

Ironhide gave Starlight a firm tap on the rump, making the sparkling cry out and let go of Auri's fingers at the same time. Then he scooped the tiny winger up and deposited her on Prowl's back just above his wing-connectors. She looked upset, but in a matter of two seconds, she'd realized the she was with her Cuddly, and she calmed down, curling up and snuggling against him.

Ironhide turned his attention back to his still-howling Auri. Auri had curled up, and she was cradling her injured fingers to her chest as she bawled.

Chromia was there beside her the next moment, dropping down and pulling the femme-ling onto her lap. "Sh-sh, it's okay, Auri," she said soothingly.

Ironhide glanced over at Soundwave as the mech entered the room.

"What'd you do to her?" Chromia asked Ironhide.

"Me?" Ironhide asked, "I warned her that Starlight would bite her if she reached under the couch for her."

Soundwave spoke from the doorway. "You could have stopped her."

"She needed to learn," Ironhide stated briefly before turning his back to the Con and crouching down before Auri and Chromia. "Sparklet, calm down," he said gently. "Let me see it."

Auri hiccoughed and stuttered and whimpered and held her bitten finger for him to see.

"Aw, that's not that bad, Auri-Spark," Chromia said. "I mean, I'm sure it hurts, but the damage is hardly notable. We'll get Ironhide to bandage it so the life-En will quit seeping, and you'll be fine."

Auri whimpered and sniffled.

"And next time, you listen to him. Okay?"

Auri sniffled and nodded.

Ironhide wiped disinfectant over Auri's finger with infinite care and tenderness, and then he took a soft cloth to the little digit as gently as he could to dry it.

"Ironhide," she said softly, watching him unroll a bit of gauze.

"Yes, sweet-spark?"

"I'm sorry."

Ironhide leaned over and kissed her helm. "It's alright."

"Will you just swat me next time?" she asked. "This hurts worse than a spank."

"Um…" Ironhide repressed the urge to chuckle fondly at her. "Hopefully, you will listen next time."

Auri dried her face with her free hand. "Yeah. You're right," she said, and Ironhide smiled reassuringly at her.

She kept still as Ironhide wrapped the gauze around her finger, but she bit back a couple tiny whimpers of pain, and her optics were brimming with tears by the time Ironhide was done.

"Why's it hurt so much?" she whimpered, huddling against Chromia.

"Cause it's a finger, Aurilaze," Chromia said gently. "Fingers and hands feel the most."

Auri sniffled. "I do know that… but… I didn't realize it so much."

"Yeah…"

Auri looked at her finger and then looked over at Prowl on the couch. "I hope Praxus never bites me," she said, her tone one of awe. She'd calculated what it would have felt like to have Praxus bite her hand as he'd bitten Prowl's, and her high estimation of Prowl had risen a bit more.

"He better not bite you ever," Chromia stated. "I'll raw his cute aft if he does so."

Auri frowned unhappily at her. She knew Chromia was overprotective and not overly kind to mechs, and she didn't want Chromia hurting her poor Praxus. Praxus had had enough abuse.

"I'd rather… I-I don't want you to do that," Auri said softly. "I'm sure he wouldn't bite me on purpose."

Chromia looked down, shamed. "I… I'm sorry. I was talking rough, Auri," she said, her tone humbled. "I shouldn't have. I actually don't think I could let myself hurt Praxus even if I wanted to."

"Okay," Auri said softly, reassured. Her Praxus would be safe.

OoOoOoOoO

Prime looked over at Ratchet, optics thoughtful. Ironhide had just left to watch over Prowl.

"Will Starlight be able to leave Med-Bay, or does she need to remain here for monitoring and care?" Elita asked the medic.

Ratchet shifted. "She will need to remain here for at least a week," he said quietly. "She looks fine, but as I said, her systems are brimming with problems that need taken care of."

"Understood," Elita said, nodding.

Then there was the angry sound of Prowl shouting in the other room. "…HAD IT WI' EV'RY DAMN BOT ON THIS HELL-" Then the shouting just stopped.

Chromia looked down at the table. "That's probably Auri he yelled at," she said.

"It could be Jolt or First-Aid," Elita said, but she was doubtful. The junior medics knew when not to approach Prowl.

"Ha." Chromia was sarcastic. "We wish." She rose. "Imma go check on them. Ironhide may need an extra hand."

Then, "IRONHIDE!" Auri's yell met their audios.

Chromia looked mad and darted for the door. Where was her glitchin' mech if Auri had to yell for him?

Soundwave's face showed a flicker of concern, and then he got to his pedes with effort to limp from the room.

There was quiet in the room between the four remaining bots. Prime was silently regarding the two mechs before him, and Elita was thinking and feeling her mate's emotions over their bond. Ratchet sat with downcast optics, fingering the corner of his data-pad and doing nothing else. Praxus hadn't moved since Prowl's exit.

"Elita," Prime said, breaking the silence but not surprising her. "Would you please close the door? We have some more discussion here, I believe."

Elita rose and did his biding, and she saw Praxus's wings shudder a little.

"Ratchet," Prime said as Elita sat. "I understand that you formed a guardian-ward bond with Praxus. Is this true?"

"It is, sir," Ratchet answered quietly. He knew he should meet Prime's optics when speaking, but he could not bring himself to do so. His shame was overwhelming.

"And I have been led to believe that you broke this bond. Is this also true?"

Ratchet nodded. "Yes. S-sir." He stumbled on his words because it hurt to admit to what he'd done. A broken bond was a painful thing to experience. He'd done the breaking, so it hadn't hurt him. Praxus's burnt voc-processor attested to the pain that the youngling had felt.

"Am I correct in guessing that you broke it because you believed that Praxus had abused Starlight?"

"You are." Ratchet's reply was barely audible. Here was the worst part. The fact that he'd jumped to conclusions and been hasty. He hadn't even asked Praxus what had happened; he'd just assumed wrong-doing and kicked the young mech from his bond-center. He'd cared so greatly for the troubled young mech, but then he'd flipped out when he'd seen the obvious, outwards signs of mistreatment on the sick and tiny sparkling. Both of those young ones needed care, and he'd been wrong to turn against the one who needed a guardian more than anything. Praxus's body was fine, but his spark and processor were damaged.

Ratchet slowly lifted his optics to Prime, realizing that his leader had not said anything for a while. Prime looked back at him, and his expression was trusting yet expectant. Prime expected him to do something. The right something.

The right something would be hard. Admitting wrong was always hard.

"Praxus…" Ratchet said slowly. His spark ached as he began to fully realize how badly he'd treated the young mech. Praxus had been an outcast among the MY, an outcast to society. Ratchet had taken him in, made him trust him, and then rejected him in a nanosecond. How cruel was that? Beating Praxus would have been kinder than rejecting him so harshly.

Ratchet almost choked at the sheer brutality of his rejection.

Then he steadied himself and got to his pedes. He went to Praxus's side of the table and approached the motionless winger.

"Praxus," he said gently, standing to the winger's side. "Are you online?"

Praxus moved a hand.

"Mech-ling, I… I owe you an apology of… of such immense proportions that I almost don't even know what to say. I… I'm sorry. You were hurt and scared and scarred, and I took you in to be my mech-ling to guard and keep and heal. And… then… I… I got so angry when I saw Starlight's condition that I forgot to remember yours. I was wrong to act as I did, Praxus. I was so, so wrong. And I am sorry, sorry from the depths of my spark. I ask your forgiveness, and I offer my guardian bond again if you do want it."

Praxus shifted and looked up at him. The purple optics studied the blue ones, and then Praxus nodded. He held out his wrist and removed part of the armor that covered the data-port on it, offering Ratchet a way to make a connection without the invasive intimacy of a sync.

Ratchet clasped Praxus's wrist lightly and put a data-cord into it from his own wrist. Praxus's fingers brushed the medic's forearm slightly, but didn't grasp it.

"Do you want the bond?" Ratchet asked him.

Praxus nodded. Then he wrapped his fingers around Ratchet's wrist firmly.

Ratchet offered the guardian-ward bond, and he felt Praxus accept it. This bond was stronger than the first one, which had been an unintentional bond. This bond allowed Praxus to share his emotions with Ratchet, and Ratchet could send feelings of his own over the bond. Ratchet felt Praxus exploring the bond a little, and he felt the mech-ling's curiosity. He met Praxus's optics and gave him a reassuring smile.

Praxus didn't smile back. And some sort of wall went up.

Ratchet felt concern start to ebb into his mind, and then, suddenly, without warning, pain tore through his spark with such force that he cried out and dropped to his knees, clutching his chest with his free hand. The wrist on other hand felt like it was burning, Praxus's grasp tight, hurtful.

"Aigh-!" Ratchet gasped as the pain increased, and he found himself crumpling on the floor. The bond. Praxus had used the bond to get into him and hurt him. Realization of this betrayal stabbed him in the spark. He'd trusted Praxus and given him the bond, and now…

"Oh," Praxus's tone was calm, "Does it hurt?"

Ratchet looked up, straining to focus through the pain. Praxus was standing over him now, expression unreadable. Prime was standing a little ways away from Praxus, to the side a bit, optics watchful.

Ratchet tried to speak, but agony filled his processor, and he choked as a wave of nausea swept over him. It was so much pain.

"Does it hurt, Ratchet?" Praxus asked coldly. "Does it? Does it feel like your spark has been torn out and shredded into little bits-s-ssss? –Like it's going through the very fires of hell and being ground into nothingness?"

Ratchet's system was venting hard now, trying to keep him cool as the pain burned hotter and hotter. His chest was heaving, and his optics felt like they were going to glitch.

"Praxus-" he gasped. "DAIGH…!" He convulsed at the new wall of pain that slammed through him, and his body was trembling. He couldn't bite back another cry pain, and he felt a whimper rise in his throat.

"I'm a little fear monster," Praxus said, his voice rough. "I fear everything and everyone. I destroy to keep myself safe from what I fear. Only, you made me not fear you."

Ratchet choked back a scream as the bond torture increased, sending a wave of dizzying agony through him.

"I am also a little rage monster," Praxus snarled softly. "I'm a little fear monster because I fear losing something; then, If I do lose something, then I become the little rage monster. I rage. I rage and I destroy. You made me not fear, and you made me vulnerable. And then you took my trust and my security and tore it all to shreds with my little hurting spark. You devastated me. I lost." Praxus's voice shook, "I lost so much. And now, the little rage monster-"

Ratchet shuddered.

"…knows different," Praxus whispered.

The pain started to ebb away.

"B-because someone taught me different." Praxus knelt beside Ratchet and changed his grip on Ratchet's wrist so that it was gentle. "Someone taught me to care and to forgive."

The burning stopped.

"We're not monsters here," Praxus said, fighting hoarseness. "If someone makes us lose, we punish. We make the wrong-doer suffer a little while, and then…"

The pain ended, leaving only a numb sense of relief.

"Then we stop the suffering. And we say, 'Please, don't do that to me again; it was wrong, and I didn't like it.' And then we comfort and say, 'It's alright. It's okay. The punishment is over.' And… and we touch…" Praxus put his free hand gently on the side of Ratchet's face. "We touch to let the bot know we don't want to hurt him anymore. We want to be close and not hurt."

Ratchet heard a tremor in Praxus's voice and looked up to find tears streaming down Praxus's face. The mech-ling whimpered then.

"Oh, Praxus…" Ratchet said softly.

Praxus keened and hid his face, his wings shuddering.

Ratchet ignored the dull pains that shot through his body and sat up to wrap his arms around his mech-ling.

"It's alright, Praxus. It's alright," he soothed.

Praxus sniffled.

"I-I-"

"Shhh, Praxus. Don't say anything else until your voc processor is better."

"But…" Praxus whispered.

"No," Ratchet said gently but firmly. "Don't do any more damage to that vocs of yours."

Praxus whined a soft protest. "I just…"

"Don't make me pull out a wrench and ding your aft with it, mech-ling. This is serious."

"Ratchet," Prime said, a gentle reproof in his tone. "Let him apologize, old friend."

"Optimus-!" Ratchet gave him a look of frustration. "I don't care about apologies! His vocal processors-" he broke off at the reproachful look Prime gave him. Maybe he, Ratchet, didn't care, but Praxus desperately wanted, perhaps even needed, to apologize. Ratchet looked at Praxus. "Alright. You can apologize. But no more than six words. Understand? One word more than six words, and I will take a wrench to your behind."

Praxus nodded, a half-smile peeking through his tears. If Ratchet was threatening like that, he was okay.

There was a quiet pause in the room.

Then,

"Ratchet," Praxus said softly, "I'm sorry, so very, very sorry for hurting you. I-" Praxus stopped when Ratchet put a finger on his lips.

"I told you six words," Ratchet reproached. "Six. Can you not count?"

Praxus didn't answer that and kept his optics down.

"These Praxians," Ratchet complained to Prime. "All of them are impossible. They just do what they want to, completely disregarding anything you tell them, never even thinking about the consequences." He stopped. Then he dragged himself to his pedes. "Get up, Praxus."

Praxus got up and gave him a quick calculating glance before looking again.

"Bend over the table. I said no more than six words, and I meant it." He took out a wrench.

"Ratchet," Elita started to protest. But, then, as she was across the table from Praxus, she saw the mech-ling smile slightly as he laid his upper body on the table, and she suddenly realized that it was what he wanted. He'd deliberately gone over six words.

The wrench connected against Praxus's aft, and Elita saw Praxus smile ruefully. A second blow fell, and Praxus gave the femme a dry, almost self-deprecating look. And then he ducked his helm at the third blow, keeping it down for the fourth and fifth ones.

Then Ratchet gave the mech-ling's wing a tug. Praxus straightened and turned to face Ratchet.

Ratchet shook his helm. "You… You Praxian."

This made Praxus smile. 'You're all Praxian,' Ironhide had said.

On impulse, Praxus hugged Ratchet suddenly, surprising the old medic.

Ratchet held him for a couple moments. Then he nudged him away. "Go see what Auri and Starlight are up now," he said. "But don't you dare speak a word. Your armor will come off for the next wrench-dinging if you do."

Praxus nodded. Then he slipped away, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door shut, there was the sound of a mech sitting down heavily and dropping his helm on the table. Praxus paused. That was Ratchet, wasn't it, collapsing like that?

Prime's voice filtered through the door. "Are you alright, Ratchet?"

Praxus inched closer to the door. Ratchet's voice didn't sound very strong. "Yes… just… that hurt. That hurt a lot." There was a pause. "Oh, Prime… I… don't know what to do now."

"Neither do I," Prime's voice said quietly. "I should have stopped him, but something told me not to."

Praxus bit his lip in frustration at the bit of silence that followed. And he pressed his fingertips against his aching helm.

"Can we… can we let it go?" Ratchet's voice asked finally. "He doesn't understand that he doesn't have the authority or rank to punishment me, no matter what my wrongs were."

Elita's voice came with a thoughtful frown tone. "Coming from the Cons, doesn't he have a painfully clear image of rank and authority when it comes to punishment?"

"We're Autobots, Elita," Ratchet's voice said gently. "He knows that we're different. I guess he thought…" he broke off. "No," he said sternly. "No, no, no. No more guessing. No more assumptions. We have no idea what he was thinking. None at all. We have no right to judge him without talking to him."

"I agree," Elita agreed quickly.

"And I do know that he wouldn't lie," Ratchet added bitterly, sounding like he hated himself a little bit.

Prime spoke. "Ratchet, do you believe you could just talk with him about it tomorrow? –explaining that it was against rule and regulation for him to retaliate as he did? And that he should not act thus again, but that we will not take disciplinary measures this time?"

Ratchet sounded unhappy. "I can do that. Won't be fun, but I'll accept it as part of my punishment for hurting him as I did."

"No, Ratchet, no." Prime's voice was gentle but firm. "Your punishment is over; Praxus said so himself. He does not want you to suffer anymore."

Silence. Praxus put both hands on his helm now. He wished he wasn't going to suffer anymore.

"It is part of being a guardian, having talks sometimes that are not comfortable," Prime encouraged. "And, since Praxus is dealing with a culture shift from Decepticons to Autobots, I am sure that there will be more than a few things that you and he will have to talk about. Does he know that stealing is wrong? We do not know, but he has admitted to stealing in the past. Does he know that eavesdropping is not smiled upon? We do not know that either. Certainly the Cons would punish such an action severely, but I believe that by now he has come to realize that we are not usually harsh or cruel; he might not know just where our lines of right and wrong are drawn because our lines of punishment are so different from the Cons'."

Praxus considered this and decided that it was true.

There was a long pause, and then Prime spoke some more.

"He will need to come to understand that while we are not harsh, we are not completely permissive. There is a balance, Ratchet, and as his guardian, you will need to help him understand that balance. Hugging a friend is encouraged, but certain other touches might not be welcomed. Pausing at a door to see if someone is alright is not out of lines, but hanging around quietly to eavesdrop on a private conversation is not. He will need to learn-"

Praxus stifled a gasp as is something suddenly clicked in his processor. That word- eavesdropping- that was what he was doing-!

He jumped away from the door, not realizing that his splitting helm-ache was tampering with his equilibrium and some of his coordination. Down he went, tripping over his own pedes, stumbling to the side a little, and hitting his helm on the unexpected wall before smacking soundly into the floor.

He thought several swear words and then bit his tongue. Then he was biting back a whimper; his helm hurt twice as much now, and he couldn't figure out why his system would let him move himself up off the floor. He just needed to move this arm and that leg…

Ratchet poked his helm into the hallway, looking dry. "Prime meant for you to slip away quietly, Prax-ling," he said, half-chuckling.

Praxus's optics filled with tears. He didn't want to be laughed at. It wasn't funny. His helm hurt, and he couldn't get up. He blinked at the tears, but they insisted on staying. Then Ratchet was kneeling beside him.

"I'm sorry, Praxus," he said gruffly. "I-I didn't realize..."

Praxus blinked again, and the tears slipped away.

"Come on up," Ratchet said, offering him a hand.

Praxus gave him a sad look and wriggled a little. Ratchet had a scanner on him in an instant.

"Is he alright?" Prime asked from the doorway.

Ratchet nodded. "He will be. His equilibrium's just down at the moment, and his coordination circuits have decided to take a little break for the time being. He'll be back running around making trouble in less than twenty minutes." Then he smiled and added, "Or fifteen, resilient little fragger that he is."

Praxus smiled inwardly but felt too bad to smile in reality.

"Let's move you to the main room, though," Ratchet said to him. "It'll work better to have you on a berth for the repairs." With this, Ratchet moved to pick the smaller mech up. As soon as he exerted himself to lift Praxus's weight, though, he gasped and faltered, almost falling on Praxus.

"Easy," Prime said, steadying the medic. "Your system took a beating through… that bond torture."

Ratchet cycled air through his vents. He'd not realized how much the punishment had drained him. He straightened slowly, Prime keeping a hand near to support him if need be. Then he stood there, silent, thinking.

"I could carry him for you." Prime offered gently after a moment, quite conscious of the fact that Praxus tended to be terrified of him. His spark ached as the thought of being feared as Praxus feared him, and he longed to end that fear. Part of him hoped desperately that getting close to the young mech and actually touching him would show him that the fear was almost completely unnecessary and entirely unfounded.

Ratchet hesitated, giving the Prime a long look, then looked down at Praxus. "It would help me out a lot if you would," he said carefully, his spark aching at the thought of putting Praxus through more stress.

Prime moved closer to Praxus slowly and then crouched down beside him, keeping his optic-contact steady but as non-intimidating as possible. He saw Praxus's optics widen in fear, and he saw the smaller mech's body stiffen. The door-wings were shaking.

"Praxus," Prime said gently. "I promise, I am not going to hurt you. That is neither my desire nor my intent. And I do not want you to be terrified of me. You have no need to fear me anymore than you have need to fear Ratchet or Prowl."

Praxus didn't relax at all.

"Let me just put a hand on you, Praxus," Prime said gently. "Let me touch, and you will see. I do not hurt."

Praxus froze a little more.

The Prime reached out slowly.

Praxus shut his optics.

Big hands. Jerking him by the arm so hard that it left his arm bruised and his shoulder burning with near dislocation. Next, his body hitting the wall, hard, stunning his processor and slowing his thoughts. Him slamming into the floor, his helm hitting the floor with a harsh sound. "You little glitch-!" A kick in the thigh. "Worthless, pathetic half-monster-" Another kick. Hands grabbing him, wrenching him to his pedes, pinning him to the wall. Slam. His wings burning from the impact. "Oh, right. Those wings. Those flitty," Slam. "femmey little wings." Slam. "SO delicate- ha!" Slam. Punch. His knees stinging as they hit the floor.

A big hand almost touching his shoulder. He writhed, or tried to; he was still mostly immobile. He needed to be mobile to bite and run away, though. The fingertips touched him, and he knew they belonged to someone he shouldn't bite. And he couldn't run away. He whimpered.

"Shh, easy, Praxus," The deep voice was gentle and soothing. "Open your optics, look. Close your mouth. You are alright."

Praxus fought through a slew of contradicting emotions, memories, and thoughts. Then he obeyed and opened his optics. And then he bit his lip.

"Will it help if I talk to you?" Prime asked.

Praxus could only stare back, not speak, and the sound of his cooling vents made a rough sound.

"I only want to help you, Praxus," Prime said. "It is my intent to gently lift you from the floor and carry you into the main room as Ratchet would have. I will not hurt you in this." He crouched a little closer and braced to take Praxus into his arms, and then he held his position, not moving as Praxus cringed.

Then Prime slid an arm under Praxus's back. Praxus hissed sharply, his optics wide, so very wide with fear. Prime could feel the smaller mech's body trembling against his arm.

"It is alright, Praxus," Prime said gently. He slipped his other arm under Praxus's legs and his fingers wrapped around the black-armored thigh so he could lift the mech-ling. This touch made Praxus twitch and try to recoil. "Easy," Prime tried to soothe, but the smaller mech only seemed twitch a little more. Had the Praxian not been mostly immobilized, Prime knew, picking him up would have been an impossible and possibly suicidal attempt precipitating on a battle.

Prime rose slowly, taking care to make no sudden motions or any moves that might jolt the mech-ling. And his spark ached. Praxus was against his chest, and he could feel, actually feel, how terrified the mech was of him, and not just him, but of things that had happened in the past. He could feel how panicked Praxus was and how memories were horrifying him and adding to the panic. It hurt. It hurt so much.

Prime understood to a degree, but he knew he could never understand fully because he'd never experienced some of the things that Praxus had gone through. He empathized, though. He felt for the mech-ling and sorrowed for him.

Praxus met his optics. The purple optics were so afraid, so terrified. They weren't quite crazed, though. Prime had seen optics completely crazed, and Praxus's weren't. Prime saw a stab of regret in those optics, and he saw Praxus's lips move as if forming a word.

Then Praxus sank his fangs into Prime's shoulder.

Prime stiffened as the pain washed through his shoulder and arm and partially into his chest and neck. Then he cycled air through his system and toned down the pain relays. He'd had worse pain before.

The word… The word had been 'sorry,' he realized. Praxus was much calmer now, as if biting had given him a sense of security.

Prime nodded to Ratchet that he was fine and then headed carefully for the main room. When he entered the main room, he kept his focus on getting to the nearest berth, but he knew that all optics were on him and Praxus. He lowered Praxus's behind to the berth; then he kept his one arm on Praxus's back, but the other arm he took from Praxus's legs and moved his hand to touch Praxus's helm.

"Can you let go now?" He asked, daring to move his fingers to Praxus's cheek. Slowly, then, Praxus's jaw moved downwards, and the fangs loosened from Prime's arm. "Good. Thank-you," he praised gently.

Then Ratchet was there, making Praxus's form lie down on the berth. And then Elita was there, pulling Prime away by his good arm. Then she was pressing a sterile clothe against the bite-wound.

"Natch, femme-ling-" Ratchet warned as Auri approached Praxus too quickly.

"What happened?" She asked, optics wide with concern. "Is he okay?" She ventured to put her fingertips on Praxus's arm.

"The stress of the scan…" Ratchet said, "…weakened his balancing and coordinating systems, and so he tripped himself when he moved too quickly. He fell, and that knocked the systems almost completely out. He'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Aw, poor Praxus," Auri murmured. She put an arm across the mech's belly and rested her helm against his chest in something like a hug. "My poor Praxus."

Praxus smiled slightly. He felt just a little dizzy, and his vision seemed… what was the word? Oh… blurry.

"Mmm…" he meant to say something but remembered that he'd get in trouble if he spoke. He couldn't figure out the words… anyway… something…

Don't freak out! It's not a really cliffie. Nothing terrible is happening. He just needs a little Energon, which he'll get in another second. I'm just at 9,000 words here, and that's enough for one chapter.

Thank-you to kittycatcalamity for reminding me a while back that Prowl slips up and speaks with an accent when he gets really angry. ;) You guys should check out her Transformers origin story, by the way! It's called Chronicles of Cybertron: Dawn, and I was happy to have beta-read the first few chapters for her.