Brood

As in "broody" as well as "to think something over", but also in reference to Soundwave's seemingly endless supply of children. Pre-2007 movie.
Jazas-art suggested "Birth" in reference to the end of drabble 39, "Stillborn", but I'm finding it very hard to give this pairing a sparkling XD Maybe one day, but for now, this will have to do.


He looks out over the balconies in the high towers of Trypticon, leaning lightly upon the edge to survey the grounds below. Megatron still slumbers in the room behind him, and perhaps it isn't a good idea to make his presence in the Lord Protector's private quarters known to the general public. But it's early in the morning, and the streets are quiet, so Starscream allows himself a moment of peace in the fresh, thin air.

The silence of the hazy morning is broken by soft chattering, clicking and chirping. The Air Commander looks down lazily, easily spotting Soundwave with his noisy herd of creations. The blue and silver mech strides elegantly along as his sparklings dance around his feet. They slip in between his legs and under his pedes, laughing merrily, but Soundwave does not seem to mind, nor does he ever step on them.

The Communications Officer pauses suddenly and looks up, meeting Starscream's gaze with a polite nod. Starscream nods back. Soundwave continues on his way. The flier wonders absently just how many creations Soundwave has (and where on Cybertron does he keep them all?). Only a few times has he ever seen the strange mech with all of his creations - always like this in the early morning hours. Perhaps a form of exercise, Starscream supposes.

Soundwave stops in the distance to lean down and pick up a particularly young sparkling of his, tucking it between his plating, and Starscream wonders with longing what it would be like to hold one's child so close. It cannot be a painful process to create a new spark, he thinks, if Soundwave has had so very many of them. But unlike Soundwave, Starscream does not have the gift to create life on his own.

He wanders back inside to the relative darkness of Megatron's berth-room, stopping to consider his large, silver lover. Doubtless, any creation of theirs would have most of Megatron's features (the dominant mech in every way, Starscream thinks grudgingly). Perhaps with Starscream's optics, perhaps with Starscream's wings - yes, he could live with that. So long as it had his wings. But the mental image of a miniature Megatron still lingers in his processor.

The Lord Protector wakes that morning to Starscream choking with laughter on the floor.