Darkness and Lightning 11: Between Now and Hiding
Wing dreaded these orns. He was to spar with his manipulative creator. The first time he'd seen Axe since he'd learned Drift was carrying his sparkling. Wing made sure his field and body language gave nothing away other than the aura of one well-fragged as he entered the training arena, easing onto the arena floor to begin warming up. He watched Axe discreetly from the corner of one optic.
His creator was watching him sharply; judging, gauging, trying to find something he didn't already know.
Despite that being perfectly normal from Axe, now that he actually had a major secret, it was unsettling.
Finishing his warmup, Wing turned to face his creator, holding his swords in a ready stance. He watched, wary but ready, as Axe stepped into the circle with him, his designation-sake sparring weapon out. Once again Wing wondered how many about to extinguish had mistaken the real one for this near-perfect replica. Though even the duller-edged training pole-ax had enough mass behind it that Axe could easily bludgeon a mecha to deactivation.
"How is your mate doing?" Axe asked in a conversational tone that didn't fool his creation in the least.
"Drift is fine," Wing answered, eying Axe's weapon with the wariness it deserved. He'd been swatted halfway across the room by it more than once while sparring with the larger mech.
"What happened?" Axe moved, making an easy swing for Wing's shoulder.
"Energy drain. Drift driving himself too hard again." Wing blocked with one sword, trying to get around the ax to land a blow of his own. "Seems to be a habit of his, either from the near-constant training and practicing or fragging me into the berth, or a combination of the two."
Axe snorted, a sound of genuine amusement as he twisted out of the way. "He takes after my mate that way. He is still obedient to you?"
Wing puffed a bit. "Even if he wants to argue with me, one dose of that wide-opticked look you hate so much will get him to melt and agree to anything. Putty in my hands."
"Good," the large mech purred, working around to swing at Wing's midsection. "You would do well to keep him under control. There is entirely too much fire in his spark for his own good."
"That fire is what makes him so intriguing, and so fragging good in the berth," Wing replied, dodging the blow and darting in low. He just missed hitting one of Axe's legs.
"Believe me, I know," the big mech laughed and swung again, a blow that Wing ducked under. "You are not that different from your carrier, you know."
"Aside from being smaller," was the cheeky retort. Taking advantage of his smaller size, and a quick burst from his nacelles, Wing managed to dart under the bigger mech and tag him from behind.
"And cheeky," Axe retorted with a sharp swing of the flat of his blade that sent Wing tumbling helm over pedes. "You're good, creation, but not perfect. Yet."
Wing had been swatted around many times by his creators. Tucking in helm and limbs, he rolled to his feet quickly enough to avoid another swat. "I'm working on that, though!" The dark jet came in as if going high, then dropped and went for Axe's legs and ankles. He'd pulled that on Dai Atlas once, and it had been very funny watching the deep blue mech flail before landing on his face. It had been worth having to hide from Dai Atlas' temper for the next two orns.
It worked on Axe, this time, though the black triple changer was faster to counter-balance himself with his weapon and thrusters. It was enough to leave him open for a second strike, however.
Taking advantage of the opening, Wing struck again, fast and as hard as he could. Darting out of range, the dark jet turned to watch his saner creator clatter to the ground, stunned by the double strike. He remained there for a moment, blinking at Wing.
"Sneaky little glitch," he rumbled, praise and threat all in one as he got to his pedes and got serious.
"Considering who I'm facing, better to be sneaky than overconfident!" Wing dropped into a guard stance, balanced lightly on his pedes, ready to either strike or bolt. "Sneaky I can usually get away with!"
A gleeful glint of violence crossed Axe's features as all hint of playfulness dropped away.
Oh, slag, was what crossed Wing's mind. He knew he was in for it now. Gritting his dentas and tucking in his wings as close as they could go, he braced himself for the flurry that was to come. He always thought of Dai Atlas as the fast one, because he liked to grab at random moments, but here in the sparring circle it was Axe you really needed to watch out for.
The first swing he managed to block, the second was dodged. The third caught his ankle as he leapt out of the way and sent him tumbling.
Wing managed to turn tumble into controlled roll, springing back to his pedes just in time to deflect another strike. It sent him skidding backward, heel plates scraping sparks on the floor, but at least he managed to stay upright. Gold optics darted rapidly over the blur that Axe had become, searching almost desperately for an opening that he knew was most unlikely to happen.
The next blow landed squarely against Wing's side, buckling plating and cracking internal struts.
Wing yelped, the strength of the blow again sending him flying. That was the disadvantage of taking on a larger mech; Wing was smaller and lighter, so the greater strength of a larger opponent could swat him around like a ball if he wasn't careful.
Managing to stop before he hit the wall, Wing attempted to defend himself, but he already knew it was futile. Axe came at him with a burst of speed and a strike that connected with his undamaged side, caving the armor in and cracking more internal supports before slamming him into the far wall.
Wing cried out a second time, losing his grip on his practice swords. The dark jet went to his knees, arms wrapped around himself, hunched over. After a moment he managed to raise his helm, gold optics spotting a black blur coming his way.
"I yield! I yield!" Wing managed to get out, hoping Axe would stop this time. The dark jet could never tell if the surrender would be accepted or ignored in any given match. It was worth the try at this stage, when he had no hope of defending himself anymore.
A rush of relief flooded him when the black blur stabilized into his carrier once more.
Deep blue optics flashed, taking in the damage and the posture, and Axe nodded, turning to put his practice ax away. "You are good, but you are not that good."
Wing almost collapsed in a heap with relief as Axe accepted his surrender. Slowly, the battered jet picked himself up, staggering to his pedes. He managed to retrieve his practice swords and put them away before making his way out of the room.
"I'm getting better," he retorted. "I just need practice. And time."
"Which you are receiving," Axe replied before Wing disappeared behind the closing door.
Drift nuzzled his very happily sated mate, the bond humming with pleasure-contentment as they cleared up under a shower of solvent. "Can we go out today?"
"Certainly," Wing replied, cuddling closer to Drift, spreading his wings out under the solvent spray. The solvent felt very nice on his control surfaces and the flat planes of his wings. "It'd be nice to get out into the city for a while."
"There's a new artist in the Shaku market I think you'd like," Drift murmured, a teasing, playful edge to his emotions, along with a bit of uncertainty.
"Oh?" Dark audial fins flared out, reflecting the jet's interest. Golden optics lifted to meet Drift's deep red. "Sounds like a good place to start. Once my legs decide they want to cooperate again." Wing shifted his weight, testing his balance.
"She makes ... pretty things," Drift said vaguely as he put some focus on buffing the visible paint transfers from his mate. "That stuff you're always looking at."
Nacelle pinions pricked up. "Then I would love to see her work," Wing purred, reaching for another buffing cloth and working on Drift's frame. They drifted into silence as they worked, content in the other's presence, health and good mood.
Wing happily leaned against Drift as they walked through the city streets, a concession to Drift's hatred of flying and their opposing alt modes. The Shaku market was on the far side of New Crystal City, far enough that they'd taken a transport most of the distance. As a neighborhood market it was small, but the vendors were all from within walking distance.
Bright gold optics took in the surrounding city. It wasn't often that Wing ventured this far from the Citadel; Knights were rare sights here, so the two of them walking down the street, Great Swords glinting in the city lights, were attracting stares. Wing mostly ignored the looks. Drift quietly preened.
Their first stop was a confection shop. It didn't have any jellies, but they had come for a snack. Two paste filled confections and Drift guided Wing towards the far end, where a good sized shop had a fair number of mecha milling about.
The dark jet hummed happily as he nibbled at his confection, savoring the taste. He followed his mate, one wing flicking out and then pulling back in as he took in the sights of the market. Noticing the crowd, curiosity seeped into his field and through their bond as he realized that was where they were headed.
A little closer and he realized that this merchant didn't just specialize in 'pretties' as Drift had put it, but in collars and other jewelry for marking another as claimed.
Wing's optics lit up, and he hurried over to have a look at the offered selection. The dark jet slid around a larger mecha, who turned to snarl at him before catching the baleful glow of Challenger of Ways' hilt gem and recognizing a Knight of Shadow. Wing paid no attention to the other mech, humming softly as he inspected the items on display. They ranged from simple chain loops to elaborate full frame designs that doubled as bondage aids.
He could feel Drift's amusement at his excitement as the dark Knight hung a bit further back.
One of the collars caught Wing's optic, and he leaned forward to study it. Red, gold, orange, and black gems glittered under the market lights. Imagining those vivid colors against Drift's dark armor, Wing started to purr. The fiery colors would show wonderfully against the gray and black.
"Would the Knight like to see it on his lover?" a rich green and blue femme asked politely from just outside arm's reach.
"Would love to," Wing replied, stretching out a tendril of thought through their bond to lure Drift closer, looking over his shoulder to give his mate that look Drift called the "lost little puppy optics" at the same time.
With a long suffering sound the dark Knight moved forward and stood, his helm bowed to expose the back of his neck and allow the collar with its long bib of jewels to be closed around his neck.
Wing adjusted the collar and set the light magnetic clips to hold it in place, then took a step back, tilting his helm slightly to one side. His purr increased in volume as he sent Drift an image of what he saw, the bright gems against the dark armor. It looked stunning.
~I don't know about that, but ... it's not too bad,~ Drift grudgingly consented. It was more than a bit gaudy for him, but it made Wing so blasted happy.
"I love it," the dark jet purred, fishing in his subspace pocket for his credit stick.
~You'd better be willing to wear something of mine,~ Drift grumbled as the merchant smiled brightly and made the transaction.
Somehow Wing managed to flutter his optics at Drift. ~Like what?~ he purred in response, tilting his helm toward the displayed items.
The dark Knight laughed, shaking his helm before his gaze swept over the offerings. He looked at Wing several times, picturing various items, from a simple chain collar with a red stone in a tiny chainmail bib to gemstone ones similar to what he wore before landing on an elaborate brass collar with a bib of chains attached to two intricate crescent moons, supporting between them a delicately-shaped star or flower centered with a red gem. Below it hung a second, smaller star or flower shape, bearing another glittering red jewel. The cabochon-cut stones caught the light as if glowing from within, their color matching Drift's optics.
He hummed and lifted the elegant object up before turning to Wing expectantly.
Wing looked at the item, admiring it for a moment before chirring softly and tilting his helm, allowing his mate to settle it around the dark jet's neck. It gleamed against his armor, the black background showing off the delicate designs of the piece as it magnetized in place.
"Yes, that suits you nicely," Drift purred. ~Though I must admit a simple red one with a leash would be even better.~
~Not straight red,~ Wing warned, going serious for a moment. ~Members of Shogun's harem wear red collars, and the last thing I want to do is get on his bad side.~ Memories slid across the bond, of what had happened the last time someone crossed Shogun where that group of seven mechs and femmes had been concerned.
An optic ridge was raised, but the warning was accepted. Red with a band of orange-gold along the center came with the amended image even as Drift turned to pay for the jewelry.
Wing relaxed, his purr resuming. He reached up to lightly run his fingers over the center gem of his collar, watching his mate. So simple in so many ways, especially in how he marked what was his, including himself. Deep red, the color of his spark, permeated every such choice. From changing his optics to this collar, to the simple one ... the red always matched his spark.
It was sweet in many ways, the simplicity in thought made him so much easier to control, yet it also made him much more difficult to push past the few true moral lines he had. Yet once a behavior or thought was set, it would stay.
Wing smiled, leaning against Drift's shoulder, his purr vibrating through both of them. ~Where to now?~ Wing cooed, his optics sweeping the market.
~Perhaps our little hideaway?~ he purred in return and guided them out of the stall. It was an expensive day already, credits they should not have spent in truth, but also likely to be the last time they could indulge for a very long time. The thing growing inside him would see to that. Illicit as it was, there would be no support from the city. Rare as sparklings were, they would pay black market prices for most supplies to avoid discovery. And all that was before the cost of having him vanish for several metacycles.
~Sounds good,~ Wing crooned, following Drift out of the market. They would still have to cross the city to get to their den, though. Since their bond had been discovered, the pair had finished building their hideaway and had been stocking it with supplies. Extra energon, supplements Drift would need later, and other things that would come in handy later. Wing had even managed to secure some metal-mesh pillows and covers for the berth.
All in all, it was quite comfortable and would be viable to remain hidden inside for a solid metacycle already.
Wing combat-booted, bringing him to wakefulness almost instantly at Drift's gasp and sudden movement on the berth and out from under him. His optics zeroed in on his mate, who was sitting up, one hand over his spark chamber and very wide, over-bright optics. The bond was flooded with shock-can't be-oh Primus.
Dark wings and armor plates stood on end as Wing was almost immediately in a crouch, ready to spring. It took him a nanoklik to settle down, reaching out to touch Drift's arm. ~What is it?~ he asked, worry threading through the bond.
~It ... it ... I heard it.~ Drift stammered back, the memory of a very distinct personality, playful and already defiant, reaching out to him with a not-quite-word of greeting with it.
Golden optics widened, and any thought of a threat was immediately forgotten. Wing leaned closer, excitement leaking through the bond. ~You heard it? Our sparkling?~ Dark wings fluttered out, trembling with happiness.
In reply Drift opened the bond fully on his side, offering Wing what he was getting in real time. The sensations weren't words yet, but they were a bit more than simple emotions.
It knew when it felt Wing that there was a new presence in its world too, and reached out to him with curiosity-welcome.
Wing replied with welcome-awe-joy, his golden optics going wide. The dark jet was all but bouncing next to Drift. Anyone who might have caught a glimpse of him would have been able to tell that Wing was overjoyed about something.
"You are entirely too excited about this," Drift chuckled, amused at Wing's reaction.
The three-way communication was enough to tire the new spark out and it settled into silence once more, though as he had been for several decaorns now, Drift was well aware of its state.
"Why shouldn't I be?" Wing's whole body went through an odd, happy wiggle, wings fluttering like an Earth butterfly. "Our sparkling communicated with us!"
Drift grunted, though there was amusement in his field as the bond dimmed to the regular level. "I still think you're entirely too excited by it."
Wing nuzzled him, leaning against Drift's chest. An image of the dark jet being in the same state sometime in the future sneaked across the bond.
"We don't even have this one in a frame and you're already planning another?" Drift laughed playfully, even as it crossed his processors, and the bond, for that future to be as soon as Drift could be seen in public after the separation.
Wing tilted his helm. "What's wrong with that?" His shoulder spires and nacelle pinions perked up, the dark jet shifting to press himself against Drift.
"Cost, raising two at once ... not having this one or the other do without because it has a sibling..." Drift shrugged, even as the idea of Wing carrying thrilled him on a level he didn't care to think about.
The dark jet tilted his helm, flicking out a wing to tap gray and black armor. "We'll manage," he murmured, tucking his helm under Drift's chin and purring contentedly as he was embraced. "We'll manage."
"You're on your own when you tell Redline," Drift warned, even as they both knew he would do it, and happily.
Wing chuckled. "It'll be worth it to see his expression before he explodes. As long as I make sure to duck the flying objects."
"Just remember, you wanted it," Drift rumbled, too amused to worry about the difficulties.
Wing chuckled. "I'll remember." He settled down, letting his optics turn off.
Shaking out his wings, Wing slipped into the den, humming softly as he checked to make sure he hadn't been followed before opening the door and slipping inside. He'd taken a job as a courier to earn extra credits, making several deliveries to various places around the city. With his speed and the fact that he was a Knight, he got the best courier jobs, the ones that paid the most credits for the least actual work.
After locking the door behind him, Wing turned, looking around for his mate. For a split nanoklik he felt a burst of panic when he didn't see Drift, only to feel amusement filter over the bond.
"In the storeroom, lover," Drift called out.
The dark jet trotted across the main room of their lair, into the storeroom. It was filling up with items the pair had been squirreling away since finding out Drift was carrying. On one side was a growing pile of items the sparkling would need.
Spotting Drift, Wing bounced over to the other dark mech, letting out a chirr of greeting and was swept up in an embrace and fierce kiss. It was the sense of welcome across the still-fresh bond with his sparkling that overjoyed him the most.
"Doing inventory. We need to shift what we're buying," Drift nuzzled him.
"How so?" Wing returned the nuzzle, then shifted against Drift as he noticed a change in the familiar contours of his mate's body. Pulling back a little, Wing looked Drift over, flaring his audial fins. "And it'll be me doing the shopping... You are not leaving this den for a while."
Red optics flicked before a quick system inventory informed Drift of what Wing saw and he groaned. "I hope you're ready to take on double chores," he grumbled with a resigned huff. "There are enough supplies for both of us to carry," he motioned to the collection of mineral supplements and extra energon than what they were entitled to as Knights. "We need to focus on what the sparklings will need as they grow. Apparently the nanite conversation rate for a sparkling is poor compared to a full mecha's self-repair systems. They go through energon fast too."
Wing nodded, making careful note of what his new priorities should be in New Crystal City's markets. "I can handle the double chores... I got stuck with them for over a vorn after I brought you back to the city. And it will be worth it." He smoothed one palm over Drift's torso.
A low hum vibrated Drift's entire frame as he leaned lightly into the touch and reached to kiss Wing again. Across the two bonds now attached to Wing's spark came the unique sensation of Drift's arousal-need and the new spark's entirely different foundation of desire for more of Wing's spark-energy to strength itself and the bond with its other creator.
Wing chirr-trilled, communicating through both bonds how eager he was to indulge both needs. He stepped closer, leaning against Drift, pressing his frame against his bonded's.
A low, rumbling growl escaped Drift's systems as he pushed Wing against the nearest wall and pressed his knee between his mate's legs. Wing braced his back against the wall, flaring his wings against the cool surface. He lifted one leg, wrapping it around Drift's hips, valve cover already open and dripping with lubricant.
In their agreed effort for a flier, this had become a rare pleasure for them both. It was almost always Wing inside Drift. Now with Drift's need to reclaiming his status, to not be on the receiving end, the first thrust was quick and violent.
His denta bared against Wing's throat, nipping and growling as he thrust hard and fast, pistoning his hips against Wing's with a savage abandon.
Wing rolled his helm back, baring his throat. He rocked into each thrust, taking Drift in deep. The calipers of his valve expertly worked Drift's spike in time to the gray and black mech's hard thrusts. Black fingers hooked into Drift's spaulders, reached around to scrape over his canopy.
The charge crackled between them, driven by Drift's need and Wing's passion. It was intense enough that they nearly didn't hear the thudding knock on the vault-like door.
The growl Wing let out sounded more like a rabid beast than a thinking mecha. Gold optics flickered toward the door, his grip tightening on Drift. He was inclined to ignore whoever was out there, but whoever it was would only get more annoying until they were acknowledged.
Drift was more than inclined to ignore it. His mouth found Wing's as he continued to drive into his mate, deep, fast and hard enough to cause sparks where their sensor nodes were scraped despite the incredibly thick lubricant coating the passage.
Wing loved it, both the pleasure and the pain. Both were intoxicating, driving his charge higher and higher very quickly. His fingertips caught in Drift's circuitry as they slipped into armor seams, alternating sharp tugs with long strokes. The dark jet shifted slightly for a better angle, the tip of Drift's spike jamming hard against the cluster of sensors at the top of Wing's valve and drawing a sharp cry from the dark jet's throat.
One last slam into that top set of nodes and Wing screeched in an overload that rushed through him, exploding across his field and plating into his mate. With a final deep thrust Drift lost himself as well, his roar echoing in the stone room as he flooded his mate with hot transfluid to soothe the scraped nodes even as it poured more energy into them.
Wing's fingers dug into Drift's seams and circuitry, his back arching, leaving streaks of black on the rock wall. Golden optics flared white. Then the dark jet slumped as he came down from that incredible high, trusting Drift and the wall to hold him up until his legs decided to cooperate again.
Another loud pounding knock drew an irritated growl from Wing's vocalizer as it interrupted the moment.
"Should deal with that," Drift rumbled as he pulled out far earlier than he wanted to, shifting to lower Wing to the ground while he went to punch their unwanted guest in the faceplates.
Wing scrambled after his mate, grabbing Drift's arm. "I will deal with it. You can't be seen, remember?" He pressed one palm over where their sparkling resided.
A flare of frustration at his condition responded, but Drift consented without actual objection, stepping back and allowing his mate to move forward. "I'll watch from the berthroom," he grumbled.
Wing leaned forward to nuzzle his mate's cheek, purring very softly. Then he headed for the door, glancing at the monitor. "Who the slag is it?" he demanded grumpily.
"Thorn. Who the pit else knows where this door is?" came the irritated reply.
Wing growled in response, opening the door and slipping out into the tunnel rather than letting Thorn inside. Gold optics flared at the larger mech as Wing let the door close behind him, making no attempts whatsoever to hide the lubricant and transfluid staining his thighs.
"Stop growling at me," the taller jet snapped. "If your comm worked out here you'd see less of me. And I'd have fewer dents."
"What the frag is it this time?" Wing crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Thorn. "I was in the middle of something!"
"You're always in the middle of something with him," Thorn sneered, his golden-veined wings flaring in irritation. "Master Dai Atlas wants you and him breems ago."
"What's Dai Atlas' problem this time?" Wing growled, wracking his processor. There was no way Drift was going anywhere near the Citadel until their sparkling separated and Drift's frame returned to normal.
"How am I supposed to know?" Thorn threw up his arms. "Just get your afts in front of him, take the beating and get on with 'facing your plaything."
Wing bristled, his armor plates starting to stand on end. "Drift is my mate, not my plaything. Remember that. And considering the mood he's in right now, putting him in the same room as Dai Atlas would be a very bad idea. I like my mate in one piece, thank you very much."
Across the bond Drift gave a small burst of panic that almost instantly went to planning.
"And denying our Master is a brighter idea?" Thorn bristled, his own sense of self-preservation kicking in. "Just move it."
Wing sent a querying thread of thought through the bond to Drift, leveling a glare at Thorn. "Eventually. Get lost."
~Working out options,~ Drift replied, a sense of 'you won't like' filtering with the words.
Red optics narrowed. "I'm not taking a beating for you two," he glared back. "Not without one pit of a payment. Your pet for an orn would do."
Wing's armor was immediately on end, the dark jet growling dangerously. "No way in the Pit," he snarled at the taller mech. "Drift is my bonded. You are not touching him."
"Then get 'your mech' out here and let's go already," Thorn snapped in exasperation, ready to push Wing out of the way to get in their den and pull Drift out himself. "He can't look any more disgraceful than you right now."
The smaller mech growled, a deep and dangerous sound. "Leave us alone."
A frustrated sound escaped Thorn as his engines roared. Taloned fingers slashed at Wing's face with every intention of blinding the shorter black jet.
Wing ducked under the slash, launching himself right at Thorn's midsection. Among the things he'd been picking up from Drift after their bonding had been some of the nastier ways to brawl, and he put what he'd learned to good use. Dark fingers dug into seams, ripping and tearing at the wiring. One hand reached around for a gold wing, yanking hard in a direction the joint was not meant to bend.
Immediately he felt the disadvantage of his shorter but heavier frame against the taller, more limber one he'd tackled. Thorn could fold himself in half and keep bending. Wing felt sharp claws dig into his wing joins, find purchase and tear outward, nearly ripping the slender lengths out by their roots.
Wing didn't have claws, but he did carry blades. One of the small daggers he carried made an appearance, and he promptly jammed it into the most sensitive sensor cluster he could reach, twisting the blade. He put his whole weight into yanking hard on Thorn's wing, hearing metal scream in protest as the wing was nearly ripped right off the taller jet's frame. Twisting, Wing struck again with the dagger, driving it deep into a seam and then dragging it down almost the full length of the seam.
Energon flowed freely, making them both slick as they twisted. Thorn's sharp denta found one of Wing's hands and bit down, shearing and crushing delicate mechanisms in the complex appendage as he shook his helm, trying to tear it off. A free hand found Wing's throat and dug into it, cutting at energon, coolant and electrical lines.
Though he didn't allow himself to be distracted by it, Wing felt Drift's fear-rage crash through their bond and the knowledge that his mate was going to be in this fight very quickly.
Wing let out a snarl, driving his blade deep into Thorn's hip joint several times, shredding the mechanisms and wiring. Twisting to free himself of the claws in his throat, Wing accepted the nicked, cut and torn lines. He braced one pede against the stone floor and shoved, managing to slam Thorn back-first into the wall hard enough to stun the slender jet. One of his own nacelle pinions crumpled against the stone, but Wing ignored the pain, stabbing into Thorn's hip to disable the leg several more times before going after his shoulder joint.
He felt Thorn panic, felt that distinct edge in the mech as he went from fighting to fighting for his spark. Energy crackled around them as Shield of the Sky was charged for a killing blow.
Only Thorn went abruptly limp and a jacked-up demand to calm down, that it was okay pushed through the bond into Wing's awareness.
Wing disentangled himself, venting heavily. His damaged wings were sending pain sizzling through his sensor net, one hand was crushed and useless, and his black armor was shredded in several places. Energon ran down his frame, dripping off onto the stone of the tunnel floor.
"Redline is going to pitch a fit," was all the dark jet could think to say as he looked down at himself, then at the crumpled shape of Thorn.
"Does he live?" Drift asked simply, blaster in hand and battle focused like nothing Wing had witnessed for himself before.
Wing debated for a moment. "As annoying as he is, killing him would raise questions I'd really rather not answer. So let the nuisance live." The dark jet flinched as he automatically tried to stretch out a wing to his mate, making the torn appendage send a wave of pain through him. "I'll have to drag his aft out of the tunnels."
"Like the pit you are," Drift growled as he reached down and lugged Thorn over his shoulder. "I'm carrying, not incapacitated. I'll haul him half way out, past most of the intersections. You can walk to the entrance and call Redline."
Wing watched his mate, but didn't say anything. Instead he let out a soft chirr, falling into step beside Drift, ignoring the steady sound of energon dripping into stone as they walked. This was going to be messy, but at least this wasn't the first ugly fight he'd gotten into. It was all but expected among Knights to mangle each other on a somewhat regular basis.
Still, it wasn't going to be a good orn.
Wing groaned as he booted, the slow, enforced kind that meant he had been in major surgery and Redline was pissed. Memories flooded back. That Drift was finally showing his condition. Being interrupted during a delicious interface with Drift by Thorn. His creator demanding he and Drift appear before him. A serious fight with Thorn that could have killed them both if Drift hadn't been there.
The verbal reaming out Redline gave him over the comm and then on the entire trip to the Citadel.
Gold optics finally booted, giving Wing a good view of the medbay ceiling before the dark jet turned his helm to look around. He could see the red and white shape of Redline not far away, chasing another Knight who'd been in for repairs out of the room, and Thorn was on another berth across the room. Well-honed reflex drew his attention to the deepest shadow in the room and the glowing points of blue well up in it.
Axe.
Uh-oh was basically what went through Wing's cortex as he spotted those blue optics glowing in the shadows. Dealing with Dai Atlas would have been bad enough. Dealing with Axe was not something Wing had wanted to deal with.
The strong, supportive brush of love across both his bonds was a welcome sensation in that moment.
"So how'd it start this time?" Redline grumbled as he stalked over and began checking Wing's vitals.
Wing bristled at the memory. "He thought I would let him near my bondmate as payment if he did a 'favor' for me." Acid oozed over the words, and black armor puffed out. "No one touches Drift but me."
Redline snorted at that, as did the shadow in the corner.
"You'd think he'd know better by now," the medic grumbled. "You're repaired. Now go deal with your creator's bellowing before he kills someone."
"Which one?" Wing grumped, picking himself off the berth and shaking himself to settle his armor. The new repairs had that tight, itchy feeling all new parts had before they were broken in, which only made the dark jet crankier.
"That one," he jerked a wrench at Axe's shadow," isn't bellowing."
"Yet," Wing retorted. He tilted his helm, flaring his audial fins. "Where is Dai Atlas now?"
"The challenge room," Axe spoke as he stepped out of the shadows. "Do call your mate. It'll take you both to handle him."
Wing winced, taking the long way to the door, very casually approaching the large open windows along one side of the medical bay. "What's managed to get under his armor this time?"
"Your extended absences," Axe scowled. "And my unwillingness to carry again."
"Considering how unstable Dai Atlas has gotten, I can't blame you for not being willing," Wing replied. He glanced over at the door as it opened to admit Shogun.
The red Knight had clearly just come from an encounter with Dai Atlas. One shoulder was sparking wildly, energon dripping from motionless fingers.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Wing took two steps toward the window and transformed, igniting his turbines at the same moment. A nanoklik later he'd vanished among the city towers with Axe's bellows disappearing with his contrails.
~Wing?~ Drift's presence became sharp in the bond, even the little one was concerned, though it didn't know why.
~On my way back, lover,~ Wing replied. ~Dai Atlas is on the warpath, and I would rather not have to undergo a complete rebuild. Both of us are going to have to lay low for a while.~
That was enough to settle Drift, at least somewhat. ~How long is 'a while' this time?~
~Rough guess, two to three decaorns before it'll be safe to show my wings in the Citadel without having them ripped off,~ the dark jet replied, entering the tunnel system at a different point and making his way through the maze of passages to the lair entrance.
~Any clue why he lost it this time?~ Drift asked, a sense of greeting waiting for Wing once the door opened.
The dark jet slipped inside, immediately bouncing over to snuggle against his mate. ~My continuous and lengthy absences, and Axe's refusal to carry another sparkling. Not that I blame Axe for being unwilling, considering how unstable Dai Atlas has become.~
"An empty nest and cold mate," Drift murmured, welcoming his mate with strong arms and a willing frame. "No wonder he's angry."
"He's always angry. This just made it worse." Wing slid eagerly into his mate's arms, purring as he leaned against Drift's frame. His purr was intense enough to vibrate through his own frame and Drift's.
Drift hummed and claimed a kiss. "How long do you think he'll be sane enough to survive?"
"I really don't know." Wing flicked his shoulder pinions in a shrug, returning the kiss. He nudged the other Knight toward the berthroom, his optics gleaming playfully at his mate. It earned him a laugh, the bond alive with desire and intent as Drift suddenly scooped him up and over his shoulder for the short walk.
Wing squeaked in surprise, then relaxed with a laugh, his fingers already teasing along the seams of Drift's back armor and spaulders. A wing coyly slid out to brush its tip against Drift's helm as he admired the angle of his mate's aft.
"I'd ask what you'd like after the repairs earned defending me, but I think I know," Drift grinned as he tossed Wing off his shoulder and onto the berth before pouncing on him, his kiss demanding and spike already pressurizing between them.
Wing twitched as the bonds he had with his mate and creation flared unhappily. They were both stressed, and he'd learned a while ago that there was nothing he could do to sooth either of them. If it didn't result in a quick overload, any attention just irritated Drift, and he was more prone to punch than cuddle these days. Carrying definitely did not agree with the grounder, not once his frame began to reformat and reduce his maneuverability.
Abruptly the creator-creation bond went frantic and the one with Drift completely mellowed with a sense of intense relief.
"Get Redline," Drift stalked out of the berthroom, his heavy frame far more boxy now with a protoform nearly as long as his arm inside him. "It's coming out."
Wing was moving before Drift had finished the sentence. Excitement and nervousness seeped through the bond as the dark jet wove through the tunnels to where comms would actually work. As soon as he got a signal, he used the encrypted private comm frequency Redline had given him when they'd first discovered that Drift was carrying.
A ping of acknowledgement and acceptance was the only reply, used to keep the line secure. It meant it was safe to bring Drift in.
His mate was driving, albeit slowly, towards him. Something that managed to irritate the grounder all the more.
Wing replied with a ping of his own, then returned to Drift, hovering over his mate. He knew the grounder hated flying, but it might become necessary as they approached the Citadel, if only to get Drift to Redline without anyone else seeing. Wing slowly pushed calm and assurance through the bond, though he himself was almost vibrating with nervous excitement.
Half to Wing's surprise, Drift stopped and transformed near the entrance. "Just fly us," he muttered, turning to wrap his arms around Wing's neck and pressed close. ~Go, before I come to my senses.~
Wing chirred softly, pressing his forehelm to Drift's as he wrapped his arms securely around his mate. The jet spread wings and pinions, his engines rapidly revving to full power. He flew quickly but smoothly, taking a slightly longer route to the Citadel to avoid being spotted. He flew right into the medbay rather than landing just inside the perpetually-open windows, gold optics immediately seeking out Redline.
The large medic motioned them to follow into a private room, small but equipped for the separation with multiple monitors. The table was a bit large for Drift, but gave room for the sparkling to crawl around a bit without falling off if it was the active kind.
"Do you know its designation?" Redline glanced at the pair.
"Starcrossed," Drift supplied with a grunt, accepting the help up on the table. "Hyper and she's going to be trouble."
"And she'd always pick when we were trying to recharge to start wiggling around in there," Wing added with a snort, hovering next to the head of the berth, where he could see everything but be out of Redline's way. There was no way he was going to leave.
~Pit right you're staying,~ Drift grumbled at him as he settled, one hand reaching up to twine with Wing's as they both watched Redline set up. ~This is your fault you know.~
"How long ago was the first notice?" Redline asked.
"14 kliks ago," Drift supplied. "Wing got out and commed you right away."
Wing edged over as close as he could get. ~I'm proud to take responsibility for this, lover of mine,~ he replied, amused. "As soon as he told me it was time, I was out and in contact with you. Drift surprised me by asking to be flown here instead of driving."
"Then you have five joors and seven breems, give or take a few kliks, to relax and wait," the medic told them. "And yes, you can 'face him. Just not after the notice turns red."
Wing grinned at that. "Noted," he purred, tilting his helm toward his mate and was promptly tugged into a kiss as Drift's engine revved.
With a low chuckle Redline shook his helm and left the pair to their own devices. The monitors would let him know when he was needed.
Just over five and a half joors later, Wing hovered close to the berth, fingers twined with Drift's, his frame almost vibrating. Dark wings were clamped tightly to his back to stop them rattling against his back armor.
He had been dozing on the med berth next to Drift, curled into his side, when Redline had reappeared, unceremoniously shoving the jet off the berth. Wing had been indignant until he realized what was going on, then he'd forgotten to be irritated and concentrated fully on Drift. He was watching as armor plates began to shift, hand tightening on Drift's.
It was fascinating and disturbing all at once, watching a part of a mecha's anatomy come into view that usually only appeared due to damage, but for this it was to give life...
~Don't get all mushy on me,~ Drift growled at him, even as their sparkling chirred happily across the bonds.
It was at least as eager to be out of Drift as Drift was to have it out of him.
"It is proceeding smoothly," Redline told them, watching carefully but otherwise allowing the process to take its course.
~I'm allowed to be mushy if I want to be mushy,~ Wing replied with as much dignity as he could muster. Considering that he was practically vibrating and his pedes were actually several inches off the floor, the attempt was failing miserably. The jet peered into Drift's torso as the armor shifted aside, wanting his first glimpse of the new life they had created together.
Out of the tangle of wires, cables, tubes and moving plates a slender hand, the shiny black of all protoforms, wiggled its way free.
~That feels so weird,~ Drift auto-suppressed a shudder.
~I can imagine,~ Wing replied, staring in utter fascination. His wings fluttered partway out of their tight tuck, the jet leaning forward for a better look. A hiss from Redline kept him from touching that tiny hand, but Wing's hand remained raised until Drift grabbed it and held it firmly against the berth.
A second hand appeared, then the top of a helm, smooth and rounded, pushed and clawed their way out of Drift's abdominal cavity as more parts shifted out of the way. Now they could both see the gooey lubricant-like fluid coating it.
All that was forgotten as a slender wing-strut unfolded as the slender protoform crawled further out, spreading its slimy coating into Drift's internals as it moved. Wing's optics went as wide as they could go, the jet making a welcoming chirr. He was fascinated and slightly in awe of what was happening, watching the birth of his sparkling.
~Beautiful,~ the dark jet murmured, utterly awed as it sank in that their creation was a jet. Everything they'd done, all that Drift had tolerated, had worked. Starcrossed would fly ... and fly fast if Wing was any judge.
The tiny being paused in its efforts to free itself to seek out the source of that sound and chirr-clicked back.
"Wing, bond-check on Drift. His processor functions have nearly flatlined," Redline spoke evenly.
Gold optics flared as Wing's attention abruptly refocused. Wing's gaze went out of focus for a long moment, his hand tightening on Drift's.
"He's in a trance state," the dark jet finally reported, sounding puzzled. One wing flicked slightly. "But I think he's fine..."
"Ah," Redline relaxed and focused fully on the sparkling's progress once more. "It happens on occasion when the carrier's programming believes they are a potential hazard if they feel the separation. Both of your creators are notorious for it."
Wing nodded his understanding, returning his attention to the sparkling squirming its way out of Drift's body cavity. The adult jet trilled softly, the trill ending in a series of soft clicks, welcoming the new life.
It periodically chirped or clicked in reply, but protocols kept it focused on moving upwards, to free itself of its carrier before its carrier started to pay attention to the physical world again.
A peep of distress escaped when it was nearly free as he realized one ankle joint was trapped between two tightening cables.
"You can free it, if you are careful," Redline allowed, his optics sharp and locked on the problem.
Wing nodded, easing forward. As carefully as he could, he slid his fingers between the cables and tugged them apart so the sparkling could free itself. A warm croon of reassurance rose from Wing's vocalizer, and he fluttered his pinions slightly.
With its final limb free the arm-long mass of slender limbs and too-small seeming chassis crawled further up its carrier's chassis to collapse on Drift's chest, directly over his spark, with a purr of exhausted satisfaction.
Wing almost vibrated as he withdrew his hands from Drift's internals, crooning at the tiny jetling. One hand hovered in the air, wanting to touch but not sure if he was allowed yet.
"Focus on Drift's internals," Redline suggested as he moved towards the top of the berth to scan the sparkling. "Make sure they withdraw without getting tangled or misplaced."
Reluctantly, the dark jet turned his attention to his mate's systems, moving for a better view. He watched as Drift's internals began to settle back into place, sneaking glances at the sparkling as Redline scanned it, then picked it up for a basic physical exam.
After a torturous klik the medic put the recharging sparkling back on its carrier's chest and smiled at Wing. "It seems all your efforts have been worth it. She is healthy, with a strong spark and solid airframe."
Wing puffed up. "She's beautiful," he murmured, gazing proudly at the recharging jetling. "I bet she'll be a handful to raise, but it will all be worth it." He reached out to very lightly run a fingertip over a tiny wing.
"With a designation like Starcrossed, you will definitely have your hands full," Redline chuckled, his optics focusing on Drift as the grounder's optics refocused and snapped to the new weight on his chest. "She has a strong spark and good protoform," he actually smiled. "You did well as a carrier."
Drift smiled, slow and a bit hesitant, as he lifted a hand to stroke down the sparkling's backstrut. On the other side of the bond, Wing was flooded by his mate's awe, amazement and no small amount of affection now that the little one wasn't inside him.
~She's beautiful, love,~ Wing whispered. He leaned down to lightly kiss his mate, then perched on the edge of the berth, gently stroking small wings.
Drift grunted acceptance of the statement, he knew Wing was just being Wing. ~As long as she's strong and smart.~
~She's going to be a fast flier, too, from the look of those wings,~ the dark jet commented, tracing a small wing. ~Next to impossible to catch in the air. She's going to be a handful to raise. Fast and smart and definitely a fiery little one.~
~Dreamer like you, too,~ Drift teased even as recharge protocols sought to claim him. ~She'll learn. No dreams, just fighting, obedience,~ he murmured, less than fully conscious.
"Let him rest, Wing," Redline's voice was quiet.
~We'll see,~ Wing whispered. He nodded to Redline, watching his mate slip into recharge. The dark jet gauged the situation for a moment before managing to settle himself on the edge of the berth, as close to Drift and Starcrossed as he could get. Settling in, Wing contented himself with watching his mate and creation recharge.