The support from you guys just makes me wanna sing : )
I forgot to do this earlier, pretty much all my TF curse words starting with Skywarp's POV and his oaths like 'son of a cessna' came from htt ermart.n et/writi ngs/tfglo ss/tfinsult .html. Except with no spaces.
Thanks again to whitedino for pointing out the nature of the human brain and suggesting creating a new spark off one of B's fan boys : )
It had been four days since that terrifying evening in the hills. Hotrod was still trying to make sense of Bravura's memories… The whole pattern of her mind was safely protected and backed up, but he had to organize it all into electronic memory in order for her blank hard drive to accept it back and be able to use it. The problem with her brain was that the amnesia created a lot of broken connections, and he could easily repair them… But he didn't know if she wanted to know about her old life.
From what he was beginning to understand, she'd embraced living in this strange life completely. She was afraid of returning to humanity, and she was hardly curious about her past; the only past she'd been exposed to so far had been terrifying.
Which led to another dilemma. He wanted to purge the memories of her rape, but once again he didn't know if that would upset her, knowing he had taken the liberty of picking and choosing what she would know.
He refused to erase her memories of Skywarp. He understood that relationship better now, and was even a little critical of the part of her that looked to Skywarp as a sort of mad savior. She was grateful to the Decepticon, but she was afraid of what he was. He couldn't understand why she would go to the Seeker, no matter how scared she'd been that night in their base. It made sense to her, but…
Honestly, he was embarrassed to have to comb through her mind like this. It was necessary to preserving who she was, but everyone needed a few secrets. He'd painstakingly encoded all of the memories she had natural access to, and some of the most pleasant ones from her childhood, but he was unsure now.
He got up from his berth and stepped out of his room into the hall. Watching for humans on the floor, he headed for Ratchet's sickbay.
He went in quietly. Dr. Peyton saw him and nodded him on, not bothering to greet him. She knew why he was here. They kept Bravura in the back for now, the room where they kept the autoclave and cleaning supplies.
The main reason was the odor. When her heart had finally given up, crushed by the growing metal, her human body had begun to rot. Ratchet came in periodically and cleaned what he could, but there were bits left in the crevices… They'd discussed dipping her in a very low-grade acid, the kind used to buff the shine into mechs who'd been in space too long. It would leave her frame but eat the organic parts in a matter of hours.
Hotrod switched off his olfactory sensors and sat on the floor next to the still silver body. It had grown a bit, maybe a little over six feet tall at best. She looked skinny, resembling Frenzy's ascetic frame on a larger scale. She was finally filling out, but her chest still left her spark partially exposed. He watched its glow for a long time. It comforted him, knowing that her mind was safe with him and that her body and spark were safe here.
At first he'd thought he'd made her into a spark twin, but upon his first visit, he'd discovered that while they had a clear and natural bond, it was not that of siblings. When he got too close her spark responded… enthusiastically. Ratchet and Perceptor agreed that this had something to do with her human mind coexisting with the spark briefly, impressing instincts into it.
He shuddered, thinking of Ratchet and Perceptor. The process of obtaining her memory had been disgusting. They'd gone in through the base of her skull, since it controlled body functions she wouldn't need anymore. Perceptor had used his own complicated equipment to simultaneously stimulate her brain and record its billions of reactions, sending it straight into Hotrod's memory core.
He tried not to think about that if he could help it.
He noticed she'd grown a few distinguishing features, little patterns rising up from her head, shoulders, and hips in ways that accented her delicate appearance. He'd seen it often on the youngling femmes, before they started putting on manufactured armor or growing it themselves deliberately. He didn't know if this meant Bravura's body would have the maturity of a youngling, or if it was just the metal growing in accelerated but natural steps.
Her optics were coming in nicely now, and the angle they were taking would give a her a permanently trusting expression. From what her last memories had told him, this reflected those moments she been suspended in rapture as her mind was flooded with the experience of having a spark bond, something her human body hadn't been capable of comprehending. She'd been confused, but she'd felt his spark touching hers, and it had given her a feeling of safety. That was the way she'd died.
Hotrod shook his head. She wasn't dead. She was with him now, and soon she'd have her own body back. Ratchet was guessing five to six cycles, Perceptor said it could be as long as two human weeks. They wanted to be completely sure that her body was developed enough to survive the sudden stress of emotions and movement Bravura would surely put it under. Her body was already pumping energon just fine, and Ratchet would give her a little more every few hours to feed the process; her spark couldn't power all that growth without help.
They'd been relieved that her cognitive processes were silent. They'd had a brief scare, fearing that her metal body, with it own live-giving spark, would start to come alive, separately from Bravura's memories. If that had happened, they would've had to choose between stamping out the new mind or giving up Bravura's shot at continuing as a conscious being. If it had happened, Hotrod would've carried her in his memory core forever, but it was looking like that wouldn't be necessary.
He'd been watching her body change, like watching grass grow. It was something he felt he could do forever, memorizing her lines as she lengthened and fill out, gleaming in the limited light. He was counting the bumply ridges growing together into patterns on her shoulder when Ratchet stepped in on them.
Ratchet crouched down to the floor next to Hotrod. "She's developing beautifully. We're going to give her that acid bath in a day or two, when we're sure the more delicate circuitry is sheathed." Ratchet sat quietly for a moment, and then continued uncomfortably, "Skywarp's been asking to see her, you know. He's remarkably calm, considering he's been cooped up in the brig for days, but that's all he asks the guards when he can get them to listen."
"What did Optimus say?" Hotrod asked quietly. It was hard to be jealous of Skywarp's obsession anymore. Hotrod knew that as soon as Bravura woke up in her new body, she'd choose him. They had some kind of bond already, and together they'd repel that lump's advances.
"He's stalling, more or less. He's under a lot of pressure, what with Colonel Dicer demanding to see his goddaughter and the desire of the army to experiment on the captive."
"Do you think if they knew about her," Hotrod began, motioning to Bravura, "they would want her for experiments too?"
"Optimus is prepared to defend her as an Autobot or a neutral under our protection."
"What about… her mark?" Hotrod looked at Ratchet anxiously. "Can't we just sand it off?"
Ratchet reached down and examined the raised bumps on her left wrist guard. There, in the same proportion as it had been on her human body, was the Decepticon insignia. "I think," he said wearily, "that this will just grow back if we strip it now. She needs to be awake and conscious of her body in order to keep it from starting from scratch. Don't worry, Hotrod, she's not just a human we feel obligated to defend anymore. She's one of us now, maybe even your spark twin… Or mate. She won't be fodder for their pointless experiments."
Hotrod nodded, wishing he could touch her like Ratchet was. He'd been asked not to, when Ratchet saw her spark leaping in response to him. It created 'undue stress' for the growing femme body…
Well, not exactly a femme body. Ratchet had made it clear that hers was not a distinctly female spark. It was formed from his very male spark, of course, but Bravura identified with female in her psyche. So the spark was sort of androgynous. Nobody could tell what she was, since every test Ratchet had tried had been inconclusive… Her body was definitely female in shape, but that spark…
Not that it mattered. She would always be Bravura, even if her spark wasn't what he would've once considered ideal. He was privy to every last one of her thoughts, even the darkest and most primal ones, and he knew she was good. And she loved him…
He felt better, having spent some time with her body. He felt more whole that way, replaying some of her thoughts while watching her spark slowly disappear behind her chest plates. She was going to be beautiful when she finally woke up.
But Hotrod was curious about Skywarp's need for her. She'd been completely confused by her closer relationships, with both himself and the Seeker. So, Hotrod was confused, too. If they were going to be bonded together, he felt that he should step up and be a mech. After whispering a goodbye to her, he left he in Ratchet's capable hands and went to see the Seeker.
The brig was in a second, much more heavily secured level below that main base. Upper level meetings, confidential missions and information were issued and stored there. A substantial part of the level was made up of the brig. There were a few human sized cells, but most of the space was made to contain warrior class Decepticons. Hotrod, by virtue of being an Autobot, had free access.
Skywarp was sitting on the narrow recharge bench. Ratchet had gone in and manually disconnected the Seeker's transformation protocols, weapons, and warp drive after they'd knocked the mech unconscious. They'd wanted to let him go, but he'd been deaf to their reasoning and Ratchet had finally gotten frustrated and forced a sedative into him. Now he was moping in their brig, his logic circuits back online.
The bigger mech stared at Hotrod with such hopelessness that the Vanquish almost felt a pang of sympathy. "Where is she?" The dark mech barely raised his voice to pose the question.
"Sickbay. She's doing well, should be around a week before she wakes up."
"You realize you can never be her mate now?" He didn't say it with rancor, only as if he knew he was right.
"You're wrong." Hotrod tried to sound assertive. "She and I already share a special bond. You'll see."
"It's a special bond alright. Her spark split off of yours, if I understand right. It's like you're twins now. She'll never have you, and when she wakes up you'll both realize you can't love her like I can."
"Love her?" Hotrod scoffed. "You don't love her, you want her to be your private ego boost. Keeping her was never about doing it for her good, it was all for you. That's not love, that's just ownership."
"You're wrong, dust kicker. You think because I'm on the wrong side of the war, I can't have feelings? I risked my life to save an Autobot for her sake! I'd do it again, and I'll do whatever it takes to show her you're the last mech she could ever mate with."
Hotrod stared at the Raptor, fists clenched. The slagger sounded so certain of himself! He leaned close to the glowing bars of the cell, his voice low. "Do you remember when she came to you, that night you stole her? She was pretending you were me."
Skywarp leapt to his feet with a metallic screech. He slammed against the bars, only to be thrown back with a bright splash of residual energy. "I'll kill you! I tear out your hydraulics and make you watch me press sparks with her! I'll take your-"
Hotrod didn't bother to listen. He hit the emergency cool-down switch next to the cell and watched as the icy blast downed the Seeker in seconds. He released the switch when the Seeker quit most of his twitching, then turned and headed back up to the main level.