Chapter 4: A Not So Secret Secret
"There you are. I've been looking for you, you little camera cutie."
Rewind flinched back against the wall behind him, staring in trepidation at the flier now looming over him in the middle of the darkened hallway. He'd been one of the unlucky mechs to overhear the Decepticon bragging about his past unicronian depravities, even IF he'd claimed to have a change of heart soon after. Why had he let Domey return to their habsuite alone?
"Hey, hey… relax. I'm not here to hurt you," Misfire said, reaching out to poke the smaller mech gently.
"Then why did you stop me?" Rewind asked, his camera shivering in time with his body.
"Actually, I have a favor to ask you," the unicronian stated, taking a quick glance around to make sure they were alone. Opening his servo, he held out a data chip. "I need you to make sure that everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, on this ship has a chance to see this. I don't care how you do it, but do it soon."
"Um… What is it?" the smaller mech asked, unable to resist taking the chip.
"Something that will change the future — in a good way. It's nothing bad, I promise," Misfire insisted. "Cross my spark, and hope to fly!"
"What if I… refuse?" Rewind asked, flinching back again when the larger mech's crimson optics flashed a sickly green.
"You won't." The deadly light was gone, replaced by a radiant smile. "By helping me with this little task, I will owe you a favor. No one would be stupid enough to turn down a favor from a member of the Destructive Fist." The flier waved the autobot away with his hand. "Now go, little mech. And tell no one of our encounter," Misfire warned, his voice laced with dark intent. "Bye!"
Rewind waited until he was out of sight before breaking into a run. In the depths of his spark, all he longed to do was throw himself into Chromedome's arms, and bask in his protective embrace.
"And you know what went wrong? People like YOU. The thugs and the sadists and the psychos — people for whom the war was a convenient excuse to inflict pain. Yesterday, my faith in the Decepticons was restored. I met five Scavengers — and they were average and normal and brilliant, and they fought on my behalf when I really, REALLY didn't deserve it. And I know you look down on them, but each one of them is worth ten of you.
So what I'm about to do, I do for them — and for everyone else the D.J.D. has murdered. This is for everyone who's ever turned and fled in protest at what the Decepticons have become!" the k-class mech announced, his impressive chin glinting in the sunlight.
"I don't believe it — you're running!" the leader of the D.J.D. announced, glaring up at the figure.
"No, Tarn — I'm jumping!"
Gasps of amazement echoed Swerve's bar as the gathered mechs and femmes watched the little Scavenger leap from the clifftop, plummeting to the ground below.
"Clear the area!"
KROOM!
"Well, THAT was a letdown. I thought k-class were supposed to pack more of a punch."
The film continued, showing the D.J.D. leaving the planet to search for Overlord. And, to everyone's delight, the k-class mech survived thanks to the skilled servos of Spinister.
"I've seen that guy. He's friends with the unicronian. You know, the crazy pink one."
"No way! He's on this ship right now?"
"I can't wait to meet him!"
Fulcrum hadn't realized he'd turned down his audio receptors until he was sitting on a stool at the bar, about to sip his energon. Without much thought, he turned up the volume, and took a swig of his drink.
"This is for everyone who's ever turned and fled in protest at what the Decepticons have become!"
He immediately spat out the glowing liquid, his optics widening as his own disembodied voice echoed the bar. "Is that my…?"
"Yep," answered Misfire, wrapping his arms around the k-class mech's neck from behind. Rubbing their cheeks together, the unicronian kissed him loudly, and then plopped down onto the seat next to him.
"Who filmed it? And how did it get in the hands of an Autobot?" Fulcrum asked, his gaze landing on the video being broadcast against the far wall.
"I gave it to him!" Misfire announced cheerfully. "You're welcome!"
"But… Why?" Fulcrum whined, his field tingling with embarrassment.
"That is… a secret," said Misfire mischievously, putting a single finger to his lips.
"You are so unhelpful," Fulcrum groaned, drowning his confusion in his drink. The sound of clapping soon caught their attention as the video flickered off.
"Again! Play it again!"
"Noooo," groaned Fulcrum, burying his face in his hand to avoid catching anyone's attention.
"Wow, Fulcrum," an awestruck voice said, turning their attention to the little blue and white minibot now standing next to them. "Was that you?"
"Yeaaaah," the k-class mech admitted. "You're Tailgate… right?"
"I am!" the minibot responded, his blue optics lighting up in delight. "You were so brave to stand up to the… what were they called again?" Tailgate glanced up at his horned companion, who was standing firmly next to him with his arms crossed over his impressive chest.
"The DJD," Cyclonus answered in a clipped tone.
"Yeah, them!" the minibot agreed, extending his servo up toward Fulcrum.
"Um… You want my drink?" the decepticon asked, raising a brow at him.
"No, silly. I want a handshake. Cause you're so coooool!" Tailgate insisted, eagerly shaking the taller mech's servo the moment it was held down to him.
"Thanks, but I'm not really anything special," Fulcrum insisted, despite the light flush now crossing his cheeks.
"That's not true," Misfire argued. "You were the coolest that day! Like a knight in shining… er, dusty armor."
"I have to agree — You are a hero. It is clear that you are not a warrior, but that did not stop you from standing up for your companions, and speaking the truth. I am proud to have met you, Fulcrum," Cyclonus announced firmly, startling everyone with his impassioned speech.
"It was nothing, really," Fulcrum whispered, his blush deepening at the attention.
"Oh my gosh!"
"Is that him?"
"Let me buy you a drink!"
"Tell us how it felt to face down the D.J.D.!"
Misfire grinned, eagerly abandoning his spot as the crowd of autobots surged forward, surrounding the techie-turned-k-class. Golden optics searched for him, but the unicronian just gave a little salute, and made his way out of the bar.
"I did what you asked."
Misfire glanced down to see that the camera-mech had followed him into the hallway. "Yes, it seems that you did. Don't forget, I want EVERYONE on this ship to see it — including the high command, and especially Primus! Do that, and you can ask a favor of me in the future. As long as it doesn't involve hurting Fulcrum, or any of my brothers."
"You didn't tell me there were limits," Rewind huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'm a unicronian," the flier said, in lieu of an explanation. "Now, go forth my tiny minion! By the time this cycle is through, everyone shall know of my Fulcrum's heroism!"
Rewind immediately frowned. "I'm not your tiny minion."
"Ugh, fine. My little harbinger of the truth then. Just go," Misfire groaned, giving the little mech a firm push down the hall. Once Rewind was gone, the flier's happy grin returned. Doing a little dance of excitement, he nearly skipped down the hall to find the rest of the Scavengers.
Fulcrum sleepily pushed in the code for his shared quarters on the Lost Light, nearly falling into the room when the door opened. A familiar magenta figure was sprawled out on the berths that they had pushed together in the middle of the room.
"Sweetie! You look exhausted," Misfire exclaimed, rolling off the berth to put his arms around the k-class mech. The broad-chinned mech just groaned in response. "Too many free drinks, huh?"
"Yeah. I think everyone on this ship wanted to shake my hand," Fulcrum sighed, flopping back onto the berth to stare hazily at the ceiling. The flier plopped down next to him, his smile as bright as the sun.
"Is that a Roddy Star? I'm jealous," the unicronian said, elbowing his lover in the side.
"For standing up to the D.J.D. Did you know that he gave Megatron one for abandoning his evil ways?" Fulcrum exclaimed.
"What! That's hilarious!" the flier laughed, rolling until he could fling an arm over his teammate's chest. Cuddling close, his engines began to purr as the cybertronian embraced him back.
"Do you have ANY idea what you've done by spreading that video around?" Fulcrum suddenly stated, his golden optics still focused on the ceiling.
The unicronian propped himself up so he could smile down at Fulcrum. "Of course, I do. I'm not an idiot."
Fulcrum was quick to note that while it was Miserion's green optics that were now glinting down at him, the mech's gentle smile was entire Misfire. How did he manage to meet and fall in love with the craziest unicronian in the galaxy? "I know you're not an idiot, Misfire. Love you," the techie-in-warrior's-armor said, kissing his friend on the nose. As he watched, Misfire's optics returned to their magenta hue.
"I love you, too," Misfire whispered, leaning down to move his lips softly against Fulcrum's. They'd had a number of kisses during the time they'd been together, but this was most tender. When they finally parted, the unicronian snuggled back down, waiting for Fulcrum to give in to the call of sleep. Once he was sure that his lover was truly asleep, he slipped out of his embrace to perch on the side of the berth. "You have no idea how you've changed us, Fulcrum. And because of that, I'm going to make sure you're never undervalued again."
Leaning down to place one last kiss on the other mech's helm, Misfire slipped off the berth. Letting his unicronian power flow through him, he began to rise into the air, hovering several inches above the ground. Floating toward the outer wall, he paused to cast his glowing green gaze upon the cybertronian that delighted his spark. Satisfied that Fulcrum was as safe as could be, he slipped through the wall as if he were made of pure darkness. If anyone in the nearby rooms had glanced out the window at that exact moment, they would have seen the unicronian floating in space, but they were all resting themselves, and not a single one was aware that he was out there. Which served his purposes just fine.
In another room, much farther away from the crew suites, two nearly-identical mechs snuggled on the psychiatrist's berth. Although, Unicron would deny cuddling with his brother if anyone were to walk in on them. It was during one tender, leisurely kiss that both became aware of the presence hovering in the vastness of space just beyond the outer wall of Rung's room.
"Miserion," Unicron grunted aloud, pulling away from his twin. Getting to his feet, he crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at the wall with a vengeance.
"It's alright," Primus insisted, reaching out to pat the unicronian on the shoulder. "Miserion, we know you're out there. Are you going to come in?"
At the invitation, the other unicronian slipped through the wall, solidifying fully once he was in the room. "I expected something… bigger," the flier stated, glancing around the rather small suite.
"I was, and am, a psychiatrist. I don't really need anything bigger than this. It's perfectly sized for one mech," Rung insisted, gesturing to the room.
"I could break down a wall and make it bigger. It's far too small for the both of us," Unicron huffed, his frown deepening.
"Oh… well, I suppose I could speak to Ultra Magnus about procuring the empty room next to us. And, if he allows it, we could see about conjoining the rooms, so that we each have a bit of personal space when we need it," said the orange mech.
"Always so quick to follow the rules. You should just go up there and demand that they give you the biggest room on the ship," Unicron insisted, his green optics flashing with determination.
"I wouldn't want to impose," Rung chuckled weakly, before clearing his throat. "Misfire, I've been meaning to speak with you about your… friend. It seems that a video has been making its way around the ship. Did you have anything to do with it?"
"Moi? Do I look like the kind of mech that would…"
Unicron reached out a servo and grasped him by his chest armor. Yanking the flier forward, he snarled, "Yes." Before he could say anything more, an orange servo came to rest gently on his shoulder.
"Now, Uni — I'm sure that Miserion is acting with the best of intentions," Primus whispered, his field expanding to mingle with his twin's own. A sense of calm and ease took the edge off the darker mech's normally volatile emotions.
"Very well. Then you deal with this," Unicron grunted, simultaneously releasing his subordinate, and pulling away from his other half. He sat down roughly on the berth behind them, his green optics flashing with impatience.
"Now then, let us discuss your chosen consort… I presume you mean to take Fulcrum as your consort, do you not?" Primus inquired, a patient smile crossing his features.
"Uh… about that," Misfire chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I, um… I mean, yeah. I totally want to be with Fulcrum. I'd even take him as conjunx endura if I…"
"WHAT? You would BOND with a MORTAL?" Unicron was on his feet, his dark energy surging around him in sickly shades of green, blue and purple.
"Uni…" Primus warned, his azure optics snapping to his twin. His own energy rose, a warm and comforting gold, red and blue, to press back gently against the other mech's own. The match of wills lasted for only an instant, leaving Unicron snarling, his face twisted in anger, even as his energy pulled back into his spark.
"I… I know I can't bond with him. I want to, but I'm only 1/10th of a spark. All of us, the Guiding Hand and the Destructive Fist, would have to agree to bond — and that will NEVER happen," Misfire sighed, his arms wrapping across his chest in a comforting self-hug.
"I understand," Primus said, laying a comforting hand on the unicronian's broad shoulders.
"Good, because I…" Misfire stood up straighter as he pulled back from the more powerful mech, his wings rigid behind his back. "I have a formal request, Lord Primus." Unicron raised an impressively dark brow at him from the berth, clearly skeptical of the flier's intentions.
"Go on," Primus urged.
Miserion took in a deep breath, and lowered himself to one knee before Primus — his head bowed in reverence. "When we return to Cybertron, I would ask that you gift Fulcrum with a matrix. He may be a nervous techie beneath the k-class format, but he's proven that he is brave, well-intentioned, and more than willing to stand up for what's right." The magenta flier glanced up, taking in Primus' surprised features. "And…" Miserion stumbled on, "having only one mech or femme in charge at a time isn't really a good idea. But having multiple primes, who are able to guide the Cybertronian people, might be?"
Primus opened his mouth, only to close it again. Gazing down, he considered the unicronian's suggestions. "You have… certainly given me quite a lot to think about, Miserion. I will need some time to reflect on your… proposal."
Unicron scoffed loudly, drawing their attention to him, even as Misfire got to his feet. "I don't care what you decide, as long as Miserion isn't sharing sparks with a mortal. Interface with him all you like, but I will KNOW if you cross the line."
"Of course, Lord Unicron," Misfire answered quickly, hoping to calm the stronger unicronian's temper.
"Good. Now leave us," the blue-armored mech insisted, waving him toward the door.
"Perhaps it would be best if you took the hallways on your way back, dear. I'm surprised the security team didn't notice your little, space-faring, jaunt. And, rest assured, I will ruminate on your suggestions," Primus stated, opening the door to let the flier into the hallway. "Good night, Misfire."
Fulcrum shifted into awareness as a familiar body settled behind him on the berth. Gentle arms wrapped around his middle, pulling him close to the flier's chest. "Did you go somewhere?"
"Just for a walk. Go back to sleep," Misfire whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lover's neckplates. In moments, the cybertronian was recharging once more. The sound of his sleepy engine, which seemed to purr like an earth feline, soothed the normally-hyperactive unicronian until he, too, was drifting off to sleep.
Note: Unicron's colors have changed slightly to include green, as well. His powers seem to be green or purple, depending on the universe. Primus is warm colors, and Unicron is cool colors. Also, Unicron's optics are red when relaxed, but green when emotional/angered.
Personal headcannon: When the Guiding Hand use their powers, their optics glow gold. When the Destructive Fist use their powers, their optics glow green.