Spike has finally managed to convince Ratchet to let him help, even if the mech keeps a watchful optic on him as he takes out and cleans the small—for a Cybertronian—parts of some kind of welder, when Hound and Gears enter the Repair Bay.

Curious, the boy looks up, and is rewarded by a bright smile and an annoyed look.

"Hey, guys!" He waves a hand, putting the small gear back in place a second later before giving the newcomers his full attention, something that the ambulance is too busy with whatever he's doing with another tool to do. "What brings you here?"

"That." The Minibot answers, pointing at where Laserbeak is recharging in his restraints.

Or looks like recharging. Spike thinks the Cassette is genuine, most likely having fallen into recharge due to boredom, but one can never be sure.

"Gears has been ordered to bring him to the brig." Hound explains as the medic gets up to help the mech on guard duty, leaving the boy looking up at the tracker. "And I've decided to come save you from boredom, if Ratchet's finished with you."

"Yes, I'm done with him. For today, at least. No way am I going to risk blowing his processor by trying to give him too much data at once." The ambulance answers with a small shifting of some armor plates, a gesture Spike has come to recognize as a shrug.

"Are we going for a ride?" He asks Hound as soon as they are out of the Repair Bay, Laserbeak's indignant squawking at being pulled out of recharge and the two Autobots' cursing as the Cassette pecks them going silent as the soundproof doors close.

"If you want to, that was my plan."

Spike beams.

And whoops, enjoying the warm air of the desert ruffling his hair, the sun reflecting on his sunglasses and the feeling of his leather jacket over the back of the driver's seat as the tracker moves over rock and sand with the same ease the twins would on paved road.

"You know, this is also an awesome way to enjoy my birthday gift!" He shouts over the roaring of the wind and the engine.

"How so?" Hound's voice asks through the speakers, sounding curious, as they approach a canyon.

"'Cause a military jeep is one of the coolest rides I could ask for—" He reaches for his jacket and, a bit awkwardly because of the seat belt, manages to put it on. "—this! Commander Spike Witwicky ready for action!" The mech laughs.

"Well then, Commander, Autobot scout and tracker Hound at your service. Shall I guide you to the topmost point of these approaching canyon walls, Sir?" The teenager snickers for a couple of seconds, before relaxing against the seat and resting an arm on the rolled down window.

"Proceed, soldier. We'll settle an outpost as soon as the area is secured."

"An outpost for what, Sir?" The boy frowns for a second, looking up at the pure blue sky as he thinks—and a smile appears on his face as he realizes he has just given himself an answer.

"For the Skywatch Operation, scout Hound." He answers pompously, and the soft rumble that shakes the seat isn't so much because of the engine than of the laughter the Autobot is trying to keep silent.

"As you order, Commander Witwicky! No Seeker or Cassette will slip past us!"

They both finally break down laughing, and the rest of the drive is spent in silence.

When they finally get at the top of the canyon, the first thing Spike does as soon as he's back on the ground is take off his leather jacket.

"Bad idea bringing this to the desert." Hound comments with a smile as he sits down next to the boy, making sure his shadow covers the human.

"Well, it was better than leaving it at base. Who knows what would have happened if Perceptor had found it!" The Autobot laughs, resting back on his servos calmly.

"Yes, you're right about that. He would probably have tried to find out what it's made off, and you know what this means." The boy can only hug his jacket closer to his chest with an exaggerated look of horror. "Samples!"

"No! Not my baby, anything but my baby!" The tracker laughs again, but Spike sobers at his own words, Prowl's lowering and rising trembling doorwings once more at the forefront of his thoughts.

"Hey, everything alright?" Dark eyes find blue optics and Spike doubts for a second.

"Just… Ratchet explained about creation and newsparks." He answers at last, the worry in the green mech's features enough to help him decide. "And then, Prowl woke up, and explained why Laserbeak may be Starscream and Soundwave's creation, even if he says he's not."

"And?" Smiling softly at the Autobot's perceptiveness, Spike looks away for a second before turning to the tracker again.

"They told me about the Newspark Law." Hound winces, and that is what makes the human tense. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Hey, it's alright. It's just, they shouldn't have told you about that when you were just beginning to learn about newsparks." The Autobot soothes him, waving his apologies off with a smile. "They should have told you about other things. Like… oh, yeah! Do you know about the confirmation?"

"When the, what's the word… carrier?" A nod, so Spike smiles and continues with more confidence. "When the carrier spark has made sure a newspark is viable."

"Exactly. And do you know this is when the carrier becomes aware of the newspark?" The boy shakes his head, because they've told him about when a newspark is non-viable, but not about when it's viable. "Well, it is. It takes about 16'6 of your days for the carrier spark to fully scan the newspark, and, once the confirmation is given, the development will begin. It takes between 66'4 and 83 days for the newspark to stabilize and get enough energy to be transferred to a Newspark Protoform, and the whole process, since the instant of creation until the activation, is called maturation of the newspark." Spike nods, noticing how it's similar to human pregnancy, minus the bellies.

Or, well. No one said anything about bellies.

Feeling a lot more insecure, he looks up into a suddenly curious Hound's optics.

"The newspark… does it 'grow' in the sense of 'getting bigger' during the maturation?"

"Well, yes, a bit. A newly created newspark is barely more than the laser core, which is why the maturation needs to happen, for it to stabilize the data and grow the halo."

And Spike ends so confused there are no words going out of his open mouth.

"Huh?"

Minus that.

"Spark physiology. All sparks are spherical bodies of energy arranged in different layers." The Autobot explains with a smile, giving the boy some seconds to shake the shock off, making sure he has his whole attention before continuing. "At the very center of the spark is the laser core, plasma so highly concentrated that it's in constant fusion reaction." And Hound has to stop again as Spike's brain reels at that.

"What? You mean—you guys are radioactive?" The tracker laughs.

"No, we're not. I said 'fusion reaction', not 'nuclear fusion reaction'. I know what you are going to say, that it's the same, but trust me, this is the only words I have to describe it in English. We have a whole vocabulary in Cybertronian for this, but…" The clinking of a plating shiver, aka Cybertronian shrug, fills the silence, but Spike is already calming down.

It won't be the first, nor the last, time language is a barrier they can't cross.

"Alright. So your spark is always working." Hound nods, relaxing in his seating position.

"Yes. In a way, they are like stars. Really tiny stars, mind you, but stars nevertheless." Awed and fascinated, remembering Ratchet's tale about Primus' spark, stronger than any star, being what created theirs, the human gestures for the tracker to continue. "As you said, our sparks are 'always working', as the laser core is in constant reaction because it's where the Energon is consumed. It also has a codependent relationship with the other layers of the spark, in that it radiates the energy and gravity that sustains them, but is kept together and stable by their presence."

"So it anchors them, and the others anchor it." Spike summarizes with a nod, which Hound returns.

"Exactly. Around it is the intermediate layer, also known as the data storage. It's a liquified mix of plasma and electricity always in constant movement, and is responsible for the stability of the laser core by exchanging energy between it and the halo. It contains the coding that determines the frame-type, personality and even the primary color scheme, all of which is copied to the processor when the spark is transferred to the Newspark Protoform." Seeing the boy's dumbfounded look, the Autobot smiles in amusement. "In human lore, I think you call that a 'soul'."

Spike leans forwards, keeping himself upright by resting his arms against his pulled up knees.

"You guys have a physical soul?" A warm, almost too warm because of the sun beating on it, servo caresses his back, grounding him, and the teenager finally manages to meet the tracker's optics.

"Yes. It is what gives us life, and what helps us give it to others. We are alive because we have a spark, but if those sparks didn't have an intermediate layer we wouldn't be. In fact, we really are sentient because of the whole of the spark, since its layers are so intertwined and interdependent that it's impossible to pull them apart and keep the spark alight."

"That's… weird." Hound laughs.

"Well, if you have it from the very beginning, you get used to it." He jokes, tapping his chest plates, and Spike snorts.

"I guess. And the other layers?"

"Only one more. The halo." The tracker answers, smiling calmly once more. "It's the outermost layer, and it is completely composed of electricity. It's responsible for keeping the laser core together and as plasma. It also regulates energy output, since it makes sure the pulses from the intermediate layer and laser core are strong enough to reach every part of our frames, but not too much to end frying our wiring. The halo evaporates the Energon, too, and carries it in its molecular state into the spark."

"So, it feeds the spark and acts as a messenger between it and the body."

"Precisely! You're a quick learner, Spike." The boy smiles widely at the praise, though shrugging a bit in modesty. "Also, in a spark-merge, it is the halos that mix and exchange the coding. It's also to the halo that a newspark will anchor itself, and, if it is viable, the halo will convert Energon and feed it to both the carrier spark and the newspark." Spike nods, happy about his new knowledge and the fact it hasn't ended with anyone crashing.

"So, there are no changes in the carrier Cybertronian during the… what did you call the process?" Hound's smile is a bit too big and sharp, and the boy does a double take.

Is the tracker… smirking?

"Maturation. And yes, there are, which is what I first wanted to tell you about." Feeling slightly worried, the teenager doubts for a second, before reminding himself that this is Hound, and Hound won't do or say something that will put the human in shock knowingly.

"Which is…?" He asks, softly, and the Autobot's smirk—yep, definitely a smirk—widens a bit.

"Do you know how a Cybertronian realizes they are carrying a viable newspark?"

"Morning sickness?" He blurts out without thought, and is rewarded by Hound doing the double take this time.

"What now?"

"Morning sickness. Sometimes, when a woman gets pregnant, they'll throw up in the mornings." The Autobot's optics dim, most likely contacting someone who can explain things better than the slightly flustered human—

And brighten so much and so fast that Spike sees white splotches when he closes his eyelids.

Hound's hysterical babbling is almost too fast to understand, but it's impossible to do so, anyway, because he's speaking Cybertronian.

So, despite the almost frantic and pleading look he's giving the boy when he finally falls silent, Spike stays quiet for some seconds.

"If you repeat that slower and in English, I may be able to answer." The tracker's engine hiccups in what must be embarrassment, because the mech huddles a bit into himself with a small grimace.

"Sorry. I asked if you've developed a cure for this 'morning sickness'." The Autobot answers more calmly, and the boy frowns in confusion.

"Huh, no. It's not really a sickness." He quickly adds, an idea popping up. "It's called a 'sickness' because when people feel like they're going to throw up, they say they are going to be 'sick'. But it isn't deadly or anything."

"How can it not be?" Hound whispers, less horrified and more lost than before, and Spike ponders things to find the best way to explain.

"Well, even if they end up throwing up, pregnant women eat a lot, so it isn't like the baby will be lacking something." He finally sets for, and the Autobot relaxes so visibly, leaning forward, that he ends as half of his height. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes. It's just… if a carrying Cybertronian was to suffer from this 'morning sickness', it would most likely lead to loss of the newspark, or deactivation of the carrier." Spike's mouth falls open as Hound straightens. "As I was about to say, one realizes they are carrying because the redirection of energy to the newspark lowers the carrier's energy levels drastically. It isn't cause of deactivation, it's just a warning, and the Cybertronian adjusts the energy intake once they know about the newspark, to have enough for both. But such an uncontrolled energy loss at the beginning of every orn? That… wouldn't be good." He finishes with a grimace, and the human winces in return.

"No, I guess not…" The boy whispers in return, shivering a bit.

"So, I had this friend, Dustraiser." Confused and startled by the sudden change in topic and the cheeriness in Hound's voice, Spike looks up with a questioning look. "We used to go for long drives a lot, to enjoy Cybertron's uninhabited areas. It was nice, and each memory set is worth treasuring, but there was this one time…" The tracker chuckles softly, and the teenager tilts his head, completely lost as to the point of all this. "We were about a joor away from Iacon—that would be about 6 hours—when he suddenly stopped. Scared me good, the slagger, when he didn't transform nor answer me. I was starting to think there was something really wrong with him when he finally went back to root mode, put his servos on his chest plates, and said, 'I'm carrying'." Spike's mouth drops open.

"Just like that?" Hound snickers a bit, plating tingling with its mirthful shaking.

"Yes, just like that. That's how things happen with us. Funny fact?" The boy nods, the mech's smile starting to become contagious. "I had to tow him back to Iacon, because his reserves had dropped so much between the drive and the beginning of the development that he didn't have enough to do so himself." The tracker laughs, and Spike finds himself doing so too.

Before he remembers what they talked about barely a minute before.

"Wait, wait. Didn't you say that the energy levels dropping so much could be dangerous?" He asks, more confused than worried.

"Yes, but we have fail-safes in place to avoid that, which is why Dustraiser knew he wouldn't be able to drive all the way back before his levels reached a low, though not yet dangerous, level, and his engine stopped. Also, the first wave of energy to the newspark after the confirmation is a big one, both to let the carrier know and to kick-start the newspark's development, but after that, the energy input to the newspark goes down to more constant and easily maintained levels, so there was no risk." The Autobot explains calmly, and the boy nods in understatement.

And then, Hound starts snickering again.

"Mech, wasn't that newspark a surprise, to the two of them." He muses out loud, once more attracting the teenager's curious gaze, and his prompting for an explanation. "Dustraiser had a mate, a… lifelong companion? What do you humans call those two individuals that decide to stay together during all of their function?"

"Well, that's usually married people. The man's the husband, and the woman's the wife." He answers a bit awkwardly, more so because now he knows there are no female Cybertronian.

"If you take that 'man' and 'woman' out of the equation, you could say that Dustraiser and Tensewire were married." Spike snickers at the thought, imagining two Cybertronian on the altar, one dressed in a tuxedo and the other in a white wedding dress. "And both of them were Minibots."

"Like Bumblebee and Cliffjumper?"

"The same frame-type, yes, but a different model." The boy frowns at that, but Hound just smiles calmly. "Gears and Huffer are also Minibots, but they're a different model that Cliffjumper and Bumblebee." And, feeling like an idiot for not putting two and two together, the teenager nods. "Well, they were Minibots, but their creation turned out to be a Cargo."

"I've heard that word before…"

"Prime's a Cargo." And Spike's world tilts dangerously, unwanted images coming back—

"I beg you, please tell me that there are no physical changes in the carrying bot." He whimpers, trying really hard not to think about what that means, remembering Ratchet's talk that they are just a spark before being transferred to their body—

"The only physical change is the lower energy levels and the increased energy consumption." Hound answers calmly, and the teenager lets himself fall on his back with a relieved sigh, all disturbing images finally vanishing. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no. It's just that humans grow physically, as in, their body, while they're developing in the mother's womb. So I first thought you guys grew like that, too." He explains, opening an eye to look at the dumbfounded tracker. "Yeah, silly me, huh?"

"Huh."

Spike starts to laugh at that and, after a second more to recover, Hound joins him.

"Well, I'm sure Dustraiser would be glad that isn't the case." The Autobot adds after they calm down.

And the teenager nods calmly, noticing for the first time the past tense, something that reminds him that the Cybertronian are in a war.

It's easy to forget, with the situation on Earth, about it, since the Decepticons act more like a group of cattle thieves with the Autobots being the town sheriff, as if the whole thing, despite its seriousness, was nothing more than a kid's cartoon.

And today, the evil Decepticons will raid whatever place for a new weapon of mass destruction. Will the heroic Autobots arrive in time to stop them?

He almost snorts at the thought, gaze lost in the pure blue sky.

Yes, it may feel silly at times, despite its importance to Earth, but, in truth, they all are refugees, Autobots and Decepticons both.

Cybertron is almost, if not completely, dead, most of the population either killed or gone, if the data the Autobots have on the number of troops—real troops, not drones—on each side is to be trusted—which it is.

And yet, here they are, always thinking about Earth and the humans first, instead of trying to cut the snake's head.

"You guys are too good." He tells Hound, who looks down at him with a curious look. "Just… thanks for everything."

"Anytime, Spike. We're all friends here, and I wouldn't be a good friend if I couldn't cheer you up or rescue you from boredom." The Autobot answers with a one optic reboot in a mimicry of a wink.

The teenager laughs, knowing the mech has taken it as thanking him for the ride and the story, instead of for taking care of his planet and species, but he's willing to let it slide.

"Hey, so, if the question isn't too invasive…" The tracker nods, and the boy sits up, feeling nervous as he remembers previous reactions. "Have you ever created?"

"Yes, and I have one successful creation." Hound answers happily, and Spike's mouth falls open.

"You have a child?" He repeats, astonished, and the Autobot nods.

"I do. No one you know." He adds, laughing loudly, at the boy's deep thinking frown. "We weren't specially close, either, and I don't know what happened after the war started, but… I like to think she got away." He sobers at that, though there's still a small proud smile on his faceplate.

"She? I thought you guys didn't have women?" The teenager asks softly, and Hound reboots his optics quickly before looking back at him with amusement.

"Perks of the language packages, it seems. Looks like it has identified 'femme' as a synonym of 'female' and has assigned it the female pronoun." He explains, chuckling a bit, and, at the lack of sadness or anger, Spike allows himself to smile back. "My Greenlight, who went to become a scientist. She always enjoyed being in a lab more than out in the wilderness, but hey, that's how things go. We are all different." He adds calmly, returning his gaze to the canyon and the vast emptiness of the surrounding desert.

"Hound?" The Autobot hums, turning to look at the human. "How could two Minibots create a mech like Prime?"

"Because the intermediate layer keeps coding from past spark-merges, sometimes for mere breems, others for vorns, or even for the rest of the Cybertronian's life. Also, when creating a newspark, some of the coding given to it, along the essential coding, may be that acquired from a different spark-merge, or even that from the creators' creators."

"Like, their grandparents?" Spike asks calmly, realizing that while looking like a previous partner would be a really wrong situation in humans, looking like another family member is not that different from what he's just been told.

"If that's the human designation for the creators of your creator, then yes." The tracker answers with a nod, and the teenager smiles.

"Wow. Talk about awkward." He snickers, and Hound gives him a confused look.

"It's not an uncommon occurrence in Cybertronian, even if having data from the creators' creators is a rare situation. Though I guess it would be to humans."

"Yes. For us, looking like family is normal, but looking like a guy who your mother hasn't seen in years?" He snorts, waving a hand in a 'no way' gesture. "If your kid doesn't look like blood-related family, it's most likely not yours."

"And you—oh, right." The tracker cuts himself, perking up a bit. "Nothing, I think I'm going to follow Ratchet's advice and let you have some time to process all the new data. So, Commander Witwicky, ready to head back to base?" He asks with a wide smile, getting up before transforming into his jeep alt mode.

"You bet, soldier!" He answers happily, getting into the car and putting the leather jacket on the passenger seat. "I can still be Commander without that on, can't I? Because it's too hot out here to wear it."

"Why, of course. A good Commander always knows what is best for his troops, and, right now, bringing you in healthy is the best for my continued functioning! I don't want Ratchet scolding me because you overheated." The whole jeep shudders before they pull away from the canyon, Spike's laughter loud enough to be heard over the engine.

AN: Own Dustraiser and Tensewire, but don't own Greenlight, even though the idea of having her be Hound's creation is mine. You can take them if you want, I only needed a scapegoat for Hound's story, but none of the cannon characters wanted to participate, so... *shrug*

Also, a nod to IDW in 'Commander Spike Witwicky' and 'Skywatch'. Couldn't not write it XP