She sat at the edge of her berth, staring at the door, waiting. Her servos clenched and unclenched in her lap, fighting her nerves as a mess of emotions tugged at her heartstrings.
Finally, after a week and a half in the NICU, Hotshot was healthy enough to be transferred to the nursery and meet his carrier for the first time.
The sound of the door sliding open made her jump, and her sparkbeat sped up as a nurse walked over with the newspark swaddled in a blanket. Quickshadow tensed, feeling the small bundle placed in her arms. She held her breath, scared she would drop him if she dared move an inch.
The nurse carefully removed the blanket and taught the new carrier how to hold him properly. The tiny bot squirmed in her arms and sputtered in his sleep, bringing her to tears as she stared at his tiny face.
She instantly noticed that her son primarily inherited Heatwave's traits in both build and color palette. A yellow helm and red frame with hints of her silvery-white finish. But his frame was compact, like hers, and his tiny servos were miniature versions of hers.
"H-Hey, darling." she swallowed the lump in her throat. He briefly froze upon hearing her voice, almost like he recognized it. He likely did, given that she talked and sang to him all throughout her gestation period.
Feeling more at ease with holding him, she carefully held him with one arm and lifted her servo to tickle his chin. Hotshot let out a string of short laughs and tried to wiggle away from the incursion.
She'd never smiled so much in her life, and for a moment, she forgot all her worries and dilemmas. For a moment—as brief as it was—everything was perfect. But despite her overbearing ecstasy, she thought of Heatwave and hated that he was missing out on this moment.
Quickshadow leaned closer and pressed two kisses on his forehelm, silently vowing to protect their sparkling with her life.
She pulled away and was met with sapphire optics, identical to hers, staring up at her. She stared back, temporarily forgetting how to breathe correctly, mesmerized by how well the blue complimented his red frame. It made him that much more perfect in her mind.
The door squeaked open, disturbing the comforting atmosphere that enveloped the two. Hotshot's face scrunched up at the noise, and Quickshadow grinned. He looked just like his sire.
Another nurse walked in holding a piece of paper that turned out to be a birth certificate. "Have you chosen a name yet?" she asked, clicking a pen open.
Quickshadow nodded and shifted on the berth. "Hotshot."
"A lovely choice" The nurse registered the name and had the newspark stamp his servo-prints on either side. "Sign your name here." she pointed at one of the two blank lines at the bottom of the document and extended the pen to her.
Quickshadow hesitated a little and ended up signing her name as Slipchain as a precaution.
"Pardon my asking, but following protocol, I have to ask; is the sire still in the picture?"
Quickshadow tensed her hold on the sparkling, unprepared for such a question. The nurse immediately apologized for making her uncomfortable.
She shook her helm and scrambled for a response. "...He's—". The nurse shook her helm, assuring her she didn't have to answer if she didn't want to. She left shortly after, leaving the birth certificate with Quickshadow.
A medic stopped by that afternoon. "Well, you're set to make a full recovery in a few weeks!" He smiled warmly and went over some ground rules she had to follow as an outpatient. "Take it easy for a few months, no heavy lifting..." she tuned him out, focusing her attention on the sleeping mechling in her arms.
"We'll have you sign the discharge papers tomorrow morning. Get some rest." he gathered his things and left.
Night soon fell, and both Quickshadow and the sparkling were soundly recharging. Hotshot turned out to be a heavy sleeper, a trait he undoubtedly got from his sire because his carrier easily startled at the slightest noise. But despite being a light sleeper, the amount of recharge Quickshadow lost these past few weeks had finally caught up to her, and she was out as soon as her helm hit the pillow.
It was a few hours before sunrise when the hospital's security cameras flickered for a nanosecond. Opposed to doing their jobs, the security guards were engaged in a card game and waved it off as a minor technical error and nothing more. But of course, it was something more, and unbeknownst to them, a figure had bypassed security and slipped into the building completely undetected by any motion sensor.
Eclipse slowly closed the door behind him and checked to make sure he was in the right hospital.
"I'm sorry, visiting hours are over. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
He flinched and whirled around, surprised to see a receptionist at the front desk. Bad enough, he used the front door, but he'd also forgotten to check to see if the coast was clear. He could practically hear Quickshadow scoffing at his carelessness. He scanned the lobby, and when he didn't see any other witnesses, he immediately approached the receptionist.
"Sir, visiting hours are over." She repeated, suppressing an eye roll. It was 3 in the slagging morning, for crying out loud! "You can come back tomorr—"
Her helm hit the desk with a thud, and Eclipse reeled his servo. He'd have to remember to thank Quickshadow for teaching him that move...or he could save himself the trouble and keep taking credit.
After making sure the receptionist was still breathing, he moved her so she looked like she'd fallen asleep. With her computer still on, it only took him a minute to figure out where he needed to go.
After roaming around the building and almost getting caught a few more times, he eventually found the room he was looking for and took great care to enter as silently as possible.
Finally inside, he stood at the foot of the medberth, analyzing the femme as she recharged. A smirk stretched on his dermas, seeing all the scuffs and dents that covered her entire frame, all damage from the explosion he set off.
He was nothing less than a meticulous planner, and after he found out she was carrying, an escape attempt was expected, and he had to be prepared.
He'd known her for years, and even though she had changed a lot in the five she was gone, the one thing that remained constant was her paranoia, and he used it to his advantage.
Not mentioning anything after he figured out she was carrying was an attempt to trap her in a state of constant anxiety, and letting her get a glimpse of freedom, only to rip it away at the last second, was to place her in a state of regret. Both were manipulation tactics that aided him in breaking her.
She was so emotionally unstable that she hadn't noticed the tracker he planted on her after she blacked out from the explosion. She was usually wary of foreign devices on her.
He saw all the damage he caused yet didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse. In fact, he felt it wasn't enough. After all, nothing could mend a broken promise.
Gold optics slowly trailed to the corner of the room, where a bassinet caught his attention. He glanced back at the recharging femme, debating whether or not she'd sense his presence and awaken. But she looked to be out cold, so he tried his luck and quietly inched his way toward the far end of the room and hesitantly peered into the bassinet.
Inside lay a red newspark, peacefully recharging curled up in a fetal position.
Ill thoughts immediately invaded his mind. He felt his energon boil, knowing another mech had sired her sparkling, and to top it off, the newspark barely resembled his carrier.
His processor soon cleared but centered on a single thought. He always kept a dagger hidden away in his armor. He could easily extinguish the sparkling's spark right then and there. It was just a matter of severing his vocal cords, and he'd die without a sound, choking on his own energon.
His intrusive thoughts were getting the best of him, and he found himself reaching for the hidden blade. That's when the small bot began to stir and awoke, his optics flickering online and making his would-be killer freeze.
Hotshot's optics met his, identical to his carrier's in every way, shape, and form. The newspark stared at the intruder curiously, completely unaware of his malicious intentions.
Eclipse was holding the dagger. One swipe was all it would take—one quick clean swipe. But he remained unmoving.
He didn't know why he hesitated. Maybe it was because the poor thing couldn't fight back, or perhaps because killing something so innocent would weigh down on him for the rest of his lifecycle, or perhaps it was his optics and how much they resembled his carrier's. He didn't know, or rather, wasn't sure which one it was.
Closing his own optics, he pulled himself together and slowly brought the blade to the sparkling's neck.
Hotshot stared at the foreign object, intrigued by its shiny surface. He tried to reach up and grab it, but the blanket he was swaddled in didn't allow him the mobility. He gazed up at the strange mech, confused.
Hotshot's optics bore into his soul, seemingly challenging him to continue. But Eclipse was a statue. He couldn't do it. He still loved her.
At least, that's what he told himself.
Hehadloved her once, a long time ago, but chose fame and praise over her and ruined their relationship by treating her like a mere possession and parading her like a trophy.
She broke off the relationship after she realized what he was doing—or tried to. Eclipse wouldn't let her go.
He had always been the outcast—the misfit agent—but the minute his colleagues found out he was courting Quickshadow, it was like they were completely different bots. Compliments wherever he went, invites to gatherings he once thought he'd never receive, and recognition for how observant and skillfully minded he was. All because of her.
Having graduated from the espionage academy with the highest honors, possessing a sharp yet alluring personality, and just being straight-up attractive, Quickshadow was well respected and liked among their peers.
No one asked her why she spent so much time with the academy runt; they thought it was simply out of pity. And when word got out that they were together, they switched up and included Eclipse in their social circle for the first time.
The praise quickly became addicting, and he couldn't get enough, hence why he unknowingly strained their relationship and caused their break up. The first out of many.
Quickshadow was smart. She knew she needed to leave him, but Eclipse was clever and slowly found and developed ways to get her to stay.
He longed for things to be how they were before. Back when she was so naive, she actually thought he was with her for love.
On the surface, he didn't care how much his actions affected her but deep down, he knew how wrong and messed up he was. That was likely the real reason he cowered before the sparkling. His shame wouldn't let him harm the newspark—that and the fact that he would serve as leverage over the femme. He realized threatening Hotshot's life or safety would be the easiest way to get her back.
Feeling confused and frustrated, Hotshot started squirming and felt something cold on his metal. His sensors were overwhelmed by an unknown but unpleasant feeling, and despite not knowing what was going on, tears welled up in his optics, and a cry started building up in his throat.
Eclipse was pulled from his thoughts by the sparkling's whines and flinched away at the sight of energon leaking from a thin cut.
Stupified, he scrambled to leave, but not before wiping some of the energon off his neck, smearing it on the edge of the bassinet, and removing the tracker he put on the femme. He'd play fair this time.
Lastly, he dropped a small item next to Hotshot just as his cries amplified.
He took that as his cue to get out of there and vanished out the door.
A distant cry nagged her to wake up, each whimper louder than the last. Exhausted, she stirred, trying to place the noise. Realization struck, and her optics shot open.Hotshot!
Abruptly standing up, she rushed over to the bassinet to check on him and was mortified to see energon streaming down his neck. The fear of losing him resurfaced, and she didn't hesitate to press the emergency button.
She scanned the bassinet and saw the energon on the rim. She furrowed her optic ridges, baffled at how he could've possibly sat up and hurt himself while swaddled in a blanket.
As she reached in to lift her sparkling out, her servo grazed over something strange, and she pulled what appeared to be a folded paper.
Her breath hitched, and her vision blurred at its contents. Two words had her on the verge of a panic attack.
'Found you.'
The handwriting was undoubtedly Eclipse's, and she felt sick to her engine. Trembling and trying to take deep breaths, she sat at the edge of her berth and tried to stop the room from spinning.
A few nurses swarmed in seconds later, asking what the matter was, but she could hardly manage to shrug. They treated the sparkling's cut, telling her accidents happen and he would be okay.
"..I didn't—" she started but bit her glossa, too overwhelmed to form a cohesive sentence.
The two nurses left, promising to check up on the sparkling before they were discharged in the morning. Quickshadow tossed the note to the side and buried her face in her servos.
He'd been here. He hurt Hotshot. He hurt him with her being in the same room. Her jaw clenched, and a few tears escaped her optics. What kind of a carrier was she?
She glanced over at the recharging newspark with a knot in her throat, admonishing herself for not protecting him. "..I'm sorry...I'm so sorry."
She'd never forgive herself.
"I'm sorry."