The Repair Bay is quiet when Spike enters, the day after the… thing in the Rec Room, but that doesn't mean it's silent.

Ratchet's tinkering with some kind scanner at Gears' bedside, the Minibot observing the Medic calmly, while Huffer is sitting on the bed next to them, both of them looking as good as new, though with the new patches an unpainted gray, and filling the room with the soft clinging of armor and almost inaudible whirring of joints.

"Hello, Spike. What brings you here?" The ambulance asks without looking up, and the boy answers with a nervous smile.

"Just… wanted to see how you all are." He answers, not sure what to think.

Huffer and Gears may not be the friendliest of Autobots, but they're certainly not as bad as they could be, more like just annoying with all their grumbling.

But yesterday they were plain tactless and insensitive jerks.

Regardless, the teenager reminds himself that he'd been talking with Prowl before, and that he hadn't noticed any sign that the SIC hadn't left the past in the past.

Yet…

"We're all fine. I'm letting Huffer out once I'm done with a couple of scans, but Gears will have to stay until the end of the orn. About a couple days more." The Medic answers, pulling the scanner away and finally looking up. "Bluestreak is recharging in his room, but he'll be let out about the middle of next week, when I'm sure all sensors are working and everything is properly calibrated."

Silence.

"And Prowl?"

Ratchet's face twists in a scowl, optics paling slightly in genuine anger.

For a moment, Spike almost laughs. Looks like Tactician has sneaked away despite the Medic's protests again—

"He's being sent to the brig as soon as Smokescreen's done with him." The ambulance growls, and the two Minibots nod in agreement.

"What?"

"Do I need to check your audials?"

"No, but—Prowl is being sent to the brig? And they aren't?" The teenager repeats, signaling to the other two mechs with the Medic, who look insulted.

"We just let our opinion be known. Again." Gears scoffs, Huffer nodding in agreement as he grumbles under his breath.

"Prowl attacked a fellow Autobot, so he's being sent to the brig. What's so unbelievable about that?" Ratchet asks, calmer, as he turns the scanner to the Hybrid.

"They were provoking him! Sure, he shouldn't have snapped, but—"

"Provoking?!"

"Stop." The Medic orders, and the Repair Bay stills at the authority he rarely makes use of. "Spike, you've got to stop thinking about Cybertronian as if we were humans. Your species may have individuals with different color schemes, but you're all the same species. Cybertronian are not. Different frame types are not like people with different skin tones."

In the silence that follows, the swishing of a door opening and the steps approaching are far louder than they should, along the annoyed whistled clicking.

"Smokescreen! Language!" The ambulance admonishes, and the Doorwinger stops for a moment, startled, before he sees Spike.

"Oh. You know he can't understand Cybertronian, Ratch."

"But I can. So watch your voice box or I'll offline it."

"Ugh, fine. It's just… Praxians!" He lets out, throwing his hands up before he plops down on an unoccupied bed.

"But—"

"Don't." The gambler hisses, cutting the teenager before he can't get another word out, though he relaxes when he sees his startled expression. "Yes, I'm a Doorwinger, no, I'm not Praxian. I'm from Iacon, a completely different city. You may even say we're different breeds." He explains, a hint of humor in his last words that make the boy turn back to the Medic.

"Ratchet?"

"What?"

"I… don't understand."

"What?"

"… Anything."

After a moment, the Medic puts his scanner down and turns with a hiss of hydraulics that resembles a tired sigh.

"Come here." The boy obeys, and lets himself be pulled on the bed next to Huffer, where he sits down, looking up at the mostly white mech with wide eyes. "When you hear 'Cybertronian', what do you think about?"

"Giant robotic beings from the planet Cybertron that can transform into other things."

"And?"

"I don't know?"

"You think of us as one. One species with different breeds. Like dogs." Slowly, Spike nods, and the Medic crosses his arms against his chest. "Well, we're not. We're one species, yes, but frame types are not different breeds. They're like different species altogether."

"Like… cats and dogs?"

"Some, yes. Others… Most of the frame types are either 'cats' or 'dogs'. Able of living together among themselves and others, with the occasional disagreement, but mostly? They follow the same rules. Don't hurt the humans, obey them. And in this situation, 'civility' is the human."

"I don't…"

"Don't hurt each other, respect private property, everyone's allowed to have their own opinion, that kind of thing." Smokescreen supplies, and, after a moment, the teenager nods.

"So, most Cybertronian live by those rules. However, there are other frame types… If the majority are 'domestic animals' the rest are wild beasts. Some of them can be tamed, like Shuttles. Shuttles would be messenger pigeons. Or parrots. Or even those ostriches people use to ride and play polo. They're wild, but can be tamed. Others can be tamed too, but…"

"If most are dogs, Doorwingers are wolves." The red and blue mech supplies, serious, his own sensory panels held stiffly at his back. "They're almost like dogs, they can be tamed, trained, live with humans and, sometimes, they can spend their whole functions like they were nothing but just more wild-looking dogs. But they're not. They're wild. And they can snap at any time and kill someone. One of the reasons most Doorwingers lived in Praxus is because they were tightly-knit familial units. The other is because they were hard to live with. Especially the native Praxians. Those like me, Vector Sigma created and stationed in another city-state, we are dogs that look like wolves. But Praxians are wolves that behave like dogs. Most of the time."

Dread makes his hands shake, and Spike clenches them together on his lap, unable to look away from the serious blue and red Autobot.

"What does that…"

"It means they can be trusted… to an extent. You need to keep them on a very short leash. Prowl broke that leash."

"We all have our own opinions about things, and some are really different or even opposed, but we're all Autobots. We have to be able to work together despite them." Ratchet explains, voice soft. "And we're all sentient and free beings, so we have the right to talk our thoughts out loud. Sometimes that's annoying, yes, but you can't just punch whoever said something just because you don't agree with it. That's why we have a shooting range, and patrol routes, so that someone can work out their anger by filling a target with holes or by driving as long as they need it. When I'm angry, real angry, not just annoyed at this bunch of glitches, I do tool maintenance, or call Ironhide and rant to him until I'm spent."

"I go for long drives. The mountain route works best when I don't want to think, because I need to be aware of my surroundings, but I go through the desert when I'm just frustrated, letting my engine go as hot as it can." Smokescreen supplies, still as serious as before.

"I rant to Gears." Huffer adds, nodding to the red Minibot.

"And I go to the shooting range. And rant to Huffer through the comm." The prone mech answers with a plating shrug.

"Jazz disappears, no one knows where, and doesn't come back until he's worked out his anger or there's an emergency, and in the last situation he vanishes as soon as things are under control again. Optimus holes himself in his office, and it takes Ironhide and me to get him to vent his frustrations on us. Whatever the reason, and no matter the anger, we all know you don't attack another Cybertronian because of a different opinion, you just walk away and deal with it." The Medic adds, and Spike finds himself looking down at his tightly pressed fists on his lap.

"But he lost his child. You guys were… were being cruel."

"I had a creation." His neck burns at the speed he lifts his head, but the human doesn't even rub it as he stares at Gears. "After the Newspark Law was passed. I just went to the Repair Center when it was time for the transfer and let the Medics call the Enforcers to get him to wherever they did. Because I wanted the best for him, and I knew the Senate would provide."

"But…"

"Yes, the Newspark Law hadn't been passed yet when Prowl's newspark was transferred, but you heard him. He was the Prime's Second. He couldn't get distracted by a newspark, least of all back then, when the Energon shortage started becoming a problem. Besides, of course his newspark would have been taken care of. He probably was just put in medical stasis until a time they could get him a work position and a continued supply of Energon."

"Doorwingers create strong bonds, and the carrier-creator bond is the strongest of them all, no matter the frame type, so it's not unexpected he was upset." Smokescreen supplies when the teenager looks like he doesn't know what to make of the Minibot's words. "But that's no excuse for disregarding everything and going spark-coded. Feral, you might say." He explains, shaking his head with a hint of annoyance on his faceplate. "Slagging Praxians always were too much of spark-code mechs, despite having some of the best processors. Excellent Enforcers, yes, but not worth the trouble most of the time. That's why us non-Praxian Doorwingers were preferred to Praxian ones. We're far more reliable and less prone to going spark-code."

"But…"

"You still don't understand, do you." Ratchet's words are not a question, but they aren't annoyed either, more like understanding. "You need to stop thinking of us like humans. Think more like a farm. Different species living together, even the shepherd dog and the sheep. And while you can train a wolf to be like a dog, to act like a dog, there's always the risk that it may attack the sheep instead of herding them. That's why you leave the wolf as the guard dog, and get a real dog to deal with the sheep, and even then you keep the wolf under tight scrutiny. Doorwingers are excellent guard dogs when properly trained, but you can't ever completely trust them."

"You're right. I can't understand it." Spike answers after almost a whole minute, looking at the ground. "I guess there are just some things about Cybertronian that humans just aren't meant to understand."

"It's the Seekers' fault." Huffer lets out, and, startled and confused, the boy looks up. "You know Doorwingers and Seekers share coding, right?" A nod. "Well, it's the Seeker part of a Doorwinger's coding that's the problem. Seekers are warmechs by coding, mechs that guide themselves by spark-code instead of processor-code, and that means aggressive displays. Like the battlefield yesterday, all menacing noises and tackling and clawing."

"That part of a Doorwinger's coding is inactive by default. Most spark-coding usually is, unless when it is really needed. The only lines that are always active are those regulating the energy exchange." Ratchet adds when the teenager's face lights in growing understanding. "However, there are frame type exclusive coding, usually behavioral, that can be activated at will. Cargo sparks can emit certain pulses that allow them to control sparkless minor drones, like Prime's Roller, per example. Doorwingers can't access the Seeker part of their coding in normal circumstances, but they can be taught to do so, and control it. That's what separates Praxian Doorwingers from the rest of the frame type. Praxians have their Seeker coding always active. Which is the reason they keep close to their creations. It takes time to teach a newspark to access and control that coding, and once they do, they rarely leave their familial unit, and even less of those leave Praxus indefinitely."

"So… that's why you say they're like wolves?"

"Yes. Once the Seeker coding is active, it can't be deactivated. Alright, no, that's a lie. It can be deactivated by a spark-specialist, but the Praxian just tends to reactivate it as soon as he can. The only reason Bluestreak hasn't done so is because he was a newspark when Praxus fell, and because he authorized the Medic that treated him to delete and modify what little knowledge he had about that."

Spike's mouth falls open, dumbstruck.

"He told a doctor to mess with his head?"

"So that he wouldn't turn into the same sparkless creatures that had destroyed his city-state and the majority of his frame type? Yes, he did, and quite vehemently. And even then, he still behaves more like a Praxian than he would have liked, because there are some things that not even the best Medics can modify without resulting in the mech's deactivation." Ratchet explains, looking slightly annoyed.

"Jazz said he refuses to use his claws. And that Smokescreen doesn't know how to use them." He whispers, things clicking in place at a dizzying speed.

"Because knowledge of that is from the Seeker part of our coding." The Doorwinger answers with a nod. "But since our systems identify that as a defensive protocol, and Bluestreak had been shoved into a battle situation, he simply can't force his spark to deactivate that feature, not matter how much he wants to have such code deleted. So, he decided to specialize in long-range combat, and he's so good at it that he rarely gets called to the front lines. He has some other leftover coding too, like knowledge of the Seeker communications package, while I just have access to the Flier one, but he refuses to use it. Prowl, on the other servo… he's Praxian through and through, and… well, you heard what he said on the Rec Room. He refuses to believe Seekers could ever become the pure warmechs they are coded to be, even though they've proved their lack of spark over and over again."

"You weren't in the Rec Room." Spike points out, suddenly realizing that tiny detail. "You would have known that Prowl was about to attack them and would have done something if you were, wouldn't you?"

"Yes. And yes again, I wasn't there. But as a psychologist, I needed to know what happened to be able to deal with Prowl, so Red Alert sent me a copy of the security vid."

"What did you talk with Prowl just now?"

Smokescreen's smile is humorless despite the tiny hint of humor in it, and the teenager frowns at it.

"I didn't talk with Prowl. I was sent in to leash him."

Right. Wolf among sheep. The Autobots still need their guard dog.

"Oh."

"He knows he'll spend next orn in the brig, and he'll go there willingly once he's ordered to, but I suggest Gears and Huffer keep their opinion to themselves for at least another orn after he's released, for their own structural integrity." The Doorwinger adds, this time addressing Ratchet and his patients, who scowl but nod in understanding. "I'll let the rest know, and Jazz is already on guard, but it wouldn't hurt if you pounded that into certain processors, wrench and all."

"Like usual. Do you have the twins on damage control too?"

"Yup."

"Damage control?"

"You thought Sideswipe pranked mechs just because he likes to see the reactions?" Smokescreen asks, amused, and Spike has to nod. "Well, he's a prankster at spark, but he would never think about pranking anyone in the middle of a war, nor would he be allowed to. However, it helps distract Prowl and focus his Praxian part on non-damaging things, like sniffing out prank materials, checking blind spots, that kind of thing. His battle computer takes a lot out of him, but he still has more than enough to grow restless and let his Seeker programming come to full battle mode, and that wouldn't help anyone."

"So a Praxian is… kind of a hunter?"

"Got it in one!"

"Why?"

"Because that's what Seekers are. There's a reason the Energon Seekers existed back before the war. Cybertron is not a planet orbiting around a star, and while she has naturally replenishing Energon deposits, the number of Cybertronian was too big for those reservoirs to maintain. The main source of Energon-producing energy was starlight, but, once more, without a star to orbit around, it was rare when we got close enough to one to get planet-sustaining batches. So, Seekers. Some of them staid on the planet as the Defense Force, while those with space capabilities were part of the Energon Seekers. All went through Vos' War Academy to get them to control their coding before they graduated into one of the two corps. The Energon Seekers were sent to close systems to try to find Energon-producing planets, or some whose energy we could use to produce Energon, or even any that could be used to harvest their star's heat and light. They worked together with Space Shuttles to transport them back to Cybertron, and thus we managed to keep everyone energized."

"Wow. So that's why Starscream and Skyfire came to Earth? But I thought Skyfire said they were scientists?"

"It wasn't unusual for some scientist or a team of them to accompany the Shuttles to the planets, both to ascertain the value of the Energon and study the system and planets, and so some, not to say all of the Shuttles, had some kind of scientific knowledge. For one to go through the Science Academy was really rare, but the Senate recognized and supported those with the processor capability for fields out of their frame type's usual ones. A scientist Seeker though? The bet is that Shockwave managed to get to Screamer's processor before anything else. He's an aberrant Seeker, and being the result of some kind of study of a crazy scientist would certainly explain enough." Spike grimaces at Smokescreen's words, feeling his stomach churn.

"Eugh."

"Well, any questions?"

"Why were there only Seekers in the Energon Seekers?" He manages after a bit, once his stomach stops threatening to spill his breakfast and he's managed to pond over all the new information.

"Because that's what they're coded to be. They have the most sensitive sensors of any other frame type, and legend says Onyx, the Prime Seeker, could sense every drop of Energon in a building just by standing at the door. Their battle-coding keeps them safe in asteroid belts and hostile planets, and makes them the perfect warmechs, but that's also why they were kept off planet or away from the normal population, either in Vos or the Defense Force's barracks built in the outskirts of every city-state. That's also the reason more of them survived the destruction of Vos than Praxians did Praxus', because there were less of them in the city-state when the Decepticons bombed it." The human gives a slow nod at that, taking out his notebook almost absentmindedly to write everything down.

By the time he's done, Huffer and Smokescreen are gone, and Gears is reading a datapad while Ratchet fiddles with another, sitting next to the boy on the bed.

"Thundercracker was pretty decent down in the cell."

"Same as a Doorwinger can control his coding, so can Seekers, though they're a lot harder to deal with. If Megatron was anything but a Tread Roller, he probably wouldn't have been able or willing to keep them in the Decepticons, aerial superiority or not. Tread Rollers also have warmech coding, but it's completely different from the Seeker version." The Medic explains, resting his datapad on his lap to look at the human. "Their coding is oriented to defense, which is why they were the Defense Force's ground troops, and despite being active in most of their models, it doesn't cause the trouble the Seeker's does. They are prone to reacting aggressively to a perceived threat instead of talking, but they would rather immobilize a mech instead of trying to rip his spark out." The Minibot snorts at that, not looking away from his lecture, but rubbing a servo absentmindedly over his replaced chest plates, gray until they get a chance to be painted their usual red. "They still need to be watched carefully, but far less than Seekers and Doorwingers. Besides, their varied models filled a lot more roles than any of the other two frame types, and those that had their warmech coding active didn't mingle with the common mechs as much as those that had it inactive did."

"Like Perceptor?"

"Exactly. The war has taught him how to activate it, but his work in the labs helps him keep it dormant almost to the point of it being inactive. It would take a direct threat, like a charged blaster pressed against his plating for it to go active, and even then I believe he would manage to keep it in standby depending on the situation." The ambulance answers, receiving a nod from the boy before he writes it down.

"I'm going to guess and say all this 'spark-coding' thing is like instincts."

"And you'll be right if you called it so."

"Thanks, Ratchet."

"Just doing my job." The Medic answers, turning to his datapad, and Spike looks around as he puts his thoughts in order, his brain swimming with all the new information.

Jazz enters the Repair Bay soon after, giving them a wave of a servo and his best wishes for Gears' quick recovery as he vanishes down a corridor, and when he comes back to the main room again, it's with Prowl at his back.

For the first time since they met, the human realizes just how different the Cybertronian are from each other, listening to the almost silent steps of the Doorwinger and observing his fluid, precise and perfectly calculated movements, a stalking feline next to the Third in Command's happy puppy-like's bouncing steps and cheerful demeanor.

When Prowl nods to him politely he answers in kind, but when the door closes behind the black and white mechs, he looks up to meet Ratchet's attentive blue optics with just two words.

"I understand."

AN: Alright, be sincere, how many of you saw this coming (this being the blame of what happened at the end of last chapter being put on Prowl)?

Very early update 'cause I won't have internet access this weekend and I didn't want to leave you all without the update when I already have the chapter ready, especially since the holidays will keep me away from the computer and thus I don't know when I'll have the chance to update again (most likely not until next year XP).

So, with that said, happy holidays!

Whovian41110: Now now, that would be telling ;) I'm planning on revealing it further on, though I still don't know when, so I'm not going to answer to avoid spoilers.

Qwertzu: I'm going to say that this chapter won't be of your liking, then, if you really wanted to tear the Minibots to pieces so much XP As for Prowl's newspark, I intend to go back to the topic in future chapters, so I won't reveal anything to spare you the spoilers.