Listen younglings and listen well, for this is your only warning. Your creators told you the Nightwalkers had vanished, that there was nothing in the darkness that could hurt you, that you were safe in the daylight. They were wrong. Darklings beware the fae, optics bright with green new life. Youngling beware they, the creatures of darkness that withstand the day. And all beware the hunters who, bind together both the two.


The crowd of desperate mechs broke off their song of hope, their voices cracking as they screamed in fear. Overhead the shield sparkled, flashing white and dark green as patches of pale sky broke through the barrier. First Aid whirled from where he stood fear pounding through his spark as he looked at Ratchet. Swallowing tightly he realized Ratchet's optics were open, staring in frozen horror at something on the floor. Optics tracking to where his master looked Aid then saw the death grey mech on the floor stirring as if coming to life. Yet, no color brightened the death grey frame, no words issued from his slack, lifeless lip components. The movements were jerky, uneven. Then the figure rolled stiffly onto its side pushing up on arms and knees before locking lifeless optics with Aid and lunged.

With a scream Aid threw his small dagger, watching as it arched in slow motion to slam wetly into the gray's optic orbital – the gray never flinched. Optics widening in horror Aid backpedaled from the gray falling backwards when his pedes failed him. Terrified and knowing death was a few intakes away Aid cringed, bracing himself for the painful death that was bound to come when he was torn to shreds by the walking gray. Only to squeak when the gray's head thunked heavily onto his abdomen, the rest of the gray frame collapsing on top of him, stale energon leaking over him, soaking through his robes.

Trembling, vents hitching in fear Aid looked up to his savior, a hopeful grin spreading across his faceplates, "Blades!" He was surrounded by his brothers, Streetwise hefting him to his pedes.

"Little brother, throwing knives now." Groove grinned, "Not the safe image you've always projected."

"We have to help Ratchet!" Aid yelled, "We have to get everyone to sing again or everyone will die!"

"Then sing," Hot Spot nodded to Aid, pulling several of his emergency response unit to flank Aid and rekindle the song, sending faith and hope to bolster Ratchet's failing strength. Around them, in pockets of twos and clusters of more, mechs took up the song once more, lending the healer the power of their will.

Renewing the song, Aid watched over his master. The faceplates that had turned so pale slowly renewed their gray color and the rich green light returned to the shields. Nodding to himself Aid raised his voice further, entreating more to join the song of hope as his brothers corralled the living and hacked at the walking gray.


Sunstreaker crouched low, his form once more that of the golden lycan. He scented the air sending confirmation to his brother that these were not more illusions. Before them, in a deep chasm below the surface stood their creator, master and father surrounded by over a dozen figures robed and cowled radiant with the necromancers' power.

::How do we fight them?:: Optimus asked in the silent vampyre speech keeping their words between their processors and the miniscule bond all nightwalkers possessed.

::Kill them all at once. We have over a dozen nightwalkers to take out the necromancers.:: Sideswipe fell silent, optics dimmed t near darkness landing on the behemoth form of Galvatron.

::What is the detriment to your proposal?:: Prowl sent, dark door wings held high in mute worry.

::We can't kill Galvatron.:: Sunstreaker grumbled. ::A childe of the nightwalker cannot attack its creator. Sides and I were fed upon once we were full grown, making us his children and his childes.:: The nightwalkers stilled, all looking once more to Galvatron's massive frame. The necromancers around him all stood at tallest to his shoulder, their frames stick thin compared to his massive bulk. Where the necromancers were slight of build he was heavily armored, his dermal plating replaced with something thicker, resembling a super powered Ironhide.

::Take care of the necromancers. I will handle Galvatron.:: Optimus ordered, then flung himself over the edge of the crevasse to roar is challenge as he landed directly on top of Galvatron, sending the necromancers into a disordered fury as they all fled in different directions ripe for the picking.

Feral grins showed as Optimus descended across the remaining nightwalkers as Prowl led the charge against the necromancers. Easily ripping the still pulsing spark from the closest of the dark magicers as the rest swiftly decimated the necromancers into little more than twisted plating and ash.

"You think to defeat us so easily?" The last necromancer shrilled, clutching an energon stained hand to his chest, "You may kill us nightwalkers, but the mortals will be little more than mindless grays that will swallow all of Cybertron in darkness! The town was blanketed from out sight hours ago and now the grays have gone to other towns! They are eternal death, unending darkness that nothing can stop! You will all starve and Cybertron will die!"

"Sorry," Sideswipe grinned as he cornered the last necromancer, "Dawn fae trumps necromancer." With disbelief spreading across the necromancer's face Sunstreaker ripped the smaller mech's spark out through the back of his chest letting the creature fall, gray and lifeless to the ground. Face still twisted in stunned bemusement.

"Where's Optimus?" Prowl demanded over the din of weary nightwalkers and the beginning stirrings of the grayed frames becoming reanimate.

"Here, Galvatron fled when his necromancers fell. This will not be the last of his deeds." Optimus looked off into the darkness surrounding them and sighed, "The darkness of Galvatron will not be ended in but a single day."

"No, but we need that fire now!" Trailbreaker bellowed as he and others continued to hack and chop at the grayed necromancers. Severed heads snapped their jaws, shorn hands reached and clawed while every other piece removed from the grays took on the quest for destruction.

"Incomin'!" Ironhide bellowed from high above their position, dropping down sealed pellets of magnesium and water. The nightwalkers cast the pellets onto the fallen grays, then doused the writhing fragments of the grays until all was cast within the brilliant white glow of magnesium.


"This – is – impossible." Blades panted as more of the grays rose from where they had fallen. Ratchet's shield kept any who suffered illness from dying, but those already grayed were taken by the curse and rose once more.

"How do we stop them?" Streetwise looked from among his brothers to the writhing corpses that marked the barrier between the living and the ever growing horde of grays. Crypts filled with long dead nobles now stood with open maws, their deceased contents disgorged back upon the world. Crematoriums filled with the recent dead awaiting reclamation by the will of the Unmaker now stood empty. Every mech recently deceased and those long dead had risen, the ancient catacombs filled with eons of the dead had emptied with the power of the dark curse and now the living faced the dad overpowered five hundred to one.

"With magnesium fire, stand aside lads!" A strong femme's voice commanded harshly. Moving swiftly Streetwise, Groove and Blades fled to the right leaving a wide swath between the horde of grays and the femme. White fire rent the air, scorched the metal plating of Cybertron and cast the grays into the wind as so much ash.

"What was that?" Hot Spot demanded as he raced up to his brothers staring in impressed wonder at Iacon's new imperial guard commander, Chromia.

"My genius younglin' cooked this up a few years back. He called it a mag-blaster." She patted the strange weapon fondly, like patting a new sparked youngling and smiled proudly. "I've had a few more whipped up now take 'em and let's ash some grays!"

The standing guards roared their accord and gathered while Blades and Groove just looked askance of one another. "'Ash some grays'?" They chortled together as they grabbed mag-blasters of their own and turned the tide of battle.

With the new weapons and casks of magnesium powder and purest water the grays were decimated by mortal hands. The femme guard contingent brought down fire power rivaling that of Primus' legend and all capable carried flasks and vials from oldest femme to youngest sparklet as Iacon was cleansed of the gray plague. As the air filled with gray ash and powder, the vibrant dark green shield overhead continued to shine overhead. With the city bathed in the green light of the Dawn Fae's power none could tell if it were day or night, only that groons had passed along with too many good mechs.

Hot Spot took in a deep vent of death scented air and looked about him finally seeing the outer perimeter guards through the ranks of grays. "I can see them! Keep firing and we will break through this scourge."

Their efforts renewed the guards on both sides of the undead horde sent uncounted numbers of the grays to eternal darkness. White hot fire rent the green-tinged light decimating the grays by the dozens.


"Wha's the holdup? Daylight come or summut?" Ironhide drawled at the entrance to the surface as his guards and Optimus' nightwalkers limped towards home only to balk at the shimmering, swirling green light blocking the entrance.

"Worse," Wheeljack panted tiredly, "Ratch's shields are up. No nightwalker can get through, Pops, unless you want us all to turn into ash."

"How the slag? This sector was evacuated, there's no way he'd be holed up in these parts." Ironhide scowled pensively worrying the implications in his processors. A shield this far out spelt one of two things. Either the grays had broken through the ranks of guards topside, or Ratchet could make one slagging huge shield.

Prowl looked to the strange twins, optics scrutinizing them before landing on Jazz. "Can a mortal get through?"

Jazz shrugged and slipped to the shield, ramming his hand into the light before any could even register what he was doing. Sideswipe gasped, Sunstreaker growled and many hid their faces in their hands to keep from seeing Jazz destroyed – only to balk at his suddenly, perfectly healed form.

"I'd take that as a yes." Jazz grinned hugely, shoving Cliffjumper into the light and through to the other side with a smirk.

"Slag you! If you're wanting to know what this does to a mech find out for yourself!" Cliff roared as he turned on Jazz glaring through the shimmering green force field.

"Great, mortals get through fine." Sideswipe huffed, "What about us?"

"Get a mortal through to Ratchet and tell him to let you through?" Bluestreak offered hesitantly, leaning up against a slick, white niter coated wall as he watched the darkness around them with haunted optics.

"No time," Sunstreaker scented the air through the barrier suddenly tensing, wolf-like frame trembling with his low rumble. "I smell mortal death."

"Duh." Wheeljack smacked his helm with the palm of his hand as he pulled the small pack from over his shoulder that had been untouched through the day's battles. "I think I can get us through." He flashed his audio fins proudly while Bluestreak fondly shook his head with a small smile. "This is an energy reflector device. Once I – or should I say a mortal that won't spontaneously combust – put this within the shield we'll have a portal through safely."

"You're trying it first, Jack." Sideswipe smiled, "Ratchet always said you were reckless, this time if you combust he can't blame it on us."

"You just want to stay on my brother's good side." Wheeljack waggled his optic ridges suggestively then handed the small, squarish device to Ironhide with an innocent flash of his audio fins at his creator.

"Ah just don't think Ah wanna know." Ironhide shook his head despairingly as he set the box within the shimmering green shield and pressed a simple switch on the side. The box opened, creating a ring of metal that allowed the shield to ripple and bend until a perfect circle broke the green expanse.

"Nightwalkers, advance." Optimus barked, leading the way as all the undead passed through the portal as the mortals simply walked through the barrier, their wounds healing instantly within the green light.

"Ah still can't wrap mah processors 'round this. Yer sure Ratch's doin' this?" Ironhide asked, looking over his once more pristine plating and relished the loss of the old aches from too many hunts that were suddenly missing from his muscle cables and servos.

"This is just a shield, Pops. You ain't seen nothing yet." Wheeljack grinned with his lighted audio fins as he turned from the barrier and headed into the city's heart that resounded with the distant strains of songs of hope and the screams of death and battle.

"What in the name o' Primus?" Ironhide breathed once they came to a rise that overlooked the main square. Ratchet stood in the middle of the square bathed in bright light, as civilians stood around him bearing magnesium and water, singing songs of prayer while bathing the approaching grays in magnesium white fire.

"Ratchet." Sideswipe and Sunstreaker breathed, looking down on their lover sheltered within a ring of mortals and chants of faith. Their optics froze on the white frame stunned at what they saw. Ratchet's frame seemed transparent, his chevron missing along with any hints of cherry red on his hands. Instead of the sleek helm and large, intimidating gray chevron there were only several sets of nearly delicate white spikes jutting out and back from his faceplates. He seemed slender, more streamlined and somehow the healer's robe looked to be of the finest silk and heavy velvet shimmering with gems encrusted in the very cloth itself.

It could have been a completely different mech, save for Aid standing diligently at his side hovering over the motionless frame. "Let's get down there. Our people need us." Optimus spoke with soft hesitancy, hoping that there would still be an Iacon to salvage. The words ripped the twins from their inspection of their lover and brought them back to reality. They looked to Wheeljack and Ironhide, frames tensing with unease when neither reacted to Ratchet's sudden change in appearance.

Without looking back the group raced to the main square, discovering the outer ring of guards blocks in from the town gates. Sentries halted them repeatedly as they approached the main force and armed escorts accompanied each of them to watch for signs of graying.

"Status report." Prowl barked out of habit, his stern command making the guards not engaged in sentry duty or fighting salute out of reflex, none caring about the violet optics he bore. These desperate times made old fears vanish and all could only focus on one species of monster at a time.

"Exterior guards show no escapes out of town. We are nearing the magic barrier's origin and the inner guards protecting its source. The grays are being decimated, but we're getting worn out." All the guards were exhausted, optics dim, some trembling with lack of energon. This close to the textile district there were no energon houses or pubs. The threat of fire was always huge and mechs had to go blocks away for rations.

"Sides," Sunstreaker looked to his brother, nodding slightly to the troops. The red nightwalker sighed expressively then pulled a strange machine from the pack across his back that never left his side.

"Fine," He pulled a lever on the arcane device, sending gears whirring and buzzing until a trickle of rich, amethyst glowing energon filled a waiting cube. "I've got rations for everyone. Someone man this thing so we can move on. Get everyone fed –" Sideswipe looked at the nearest guard, optics shining a dangerous dark violet hue, "– and this gets back to me unharmed."

"Uh, uh – understood." The guard trembled looking in terror between Sideswipe and Ironhide.

"Don' fret Gearshank, these two's with mah lads." Ironhide sighed and absently smacked Sideswipe up the back side of the helm – only to freeze seconds later when he realized just what he had smacked.

Sunstreaker cackled while Sideswipe glared and rubbed the back of his helm. Behind them Cliffjumper cackled at the scene, "One big happy family, yeah right." The mini-bot muttered just loud enough for the nightwalkers to hear, sending Wheeljack and Bluestreak into fits of laughter.

Together the mixed crew of nightwalkers and mortals traveled through the dangerous territory between the battle lines of guards as they headed towards the town center and Ratchet. Every corner was a death trap, each street a battlefield they had to cross swiftly and all armed with the mag-guns the femme contingent had equipped the entire city with. Optimus' nightwalkers led the group while Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's travel group guarded the rear. Surrounded by nightwalkers, Jazz, Ironhide and the other mortals kept their ammunition in reserve, swapping loaded mag-blasters for empties as the nightwalkers took down scores of the grays.

"Over there!" Bluestreak pointed with a grin towards the pillar of green light. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe grinned hugely at each other urging the rest on faster, anxious to get to their lover.

"Slow down yer engines." Ironhide barked at the pair with a dark scowl. "Ah don' know what kind o' mischief you've gotten mah younglin' inta, and Ah jus' plain don' wanna know. But, if the pair o' ya do one thing ta him Ah'll know 'bout it and Ah'll come fer ya. Never doubt that."

"So does this mean we have your permission or are you just turning a blind optic?" Sideswipe asked with a cheeky grin.

"It means," Ironhide held a loaded mag-blaster under the red nightwalker's chin, blue optics boring into mischievous dark violet, "That it's up to his carrier, and she's tougher than me." The former hunter grinned darkly, "Ah'd be nice ta Chromia if Ah were you."

The twins gulped in unison, glancing at each other before noticing Cliffjumper miming a finger across his throat signaling their demise with a slag-eating grin. Sunstreaker scowled at the miniature red hellion, then smacked the larger one beside him up the back of the helm just for spite.

"Come on, we'll face down Ratchet's carrier after we make sure Ratchet hasn't overworked himself again." Sunstreaker murmured worriedly, turning from Ironhide to rejoin the group. Ironhide watched the pair move on perplexed. How could eons old monsters love? How could he entrust them with his son?


Chromia panted, weary and worried, she could not remember the last time she had seen Ironhide or any of the mechs. Her femmes were worn out, low on ammo and so slagging tired they could barely stand. Here on the outskirts of the city they fought the grays and searched for survivors all hoping to regroup with their mechs soon.

"Mia!" Starblaze cried, bright optics shimmering with hope, "Over there! We can see the Source." She pointed towards the central square that was finally within sight, the pillar of green rising from the ground to form the city sized shield shining brightly in the strangely hued light.

"Thank Primus. Alright femmes, we can see the main square, everyone stay sharp! The last thing we need is to get distracted and dead." Chromia barked into the battle din, reloading once more and joining the fray. Her troops marched on, breaking down the area into quadrants, sending flames to consume the few remaining grays in their district.

"I see them! Over here, Chromia, Starblaze!" The femmes finally saw them, the front line of the inner guard mopping up the last of the grays between the inner and outer lines.

"Thank Primus. Gearshift, Drift!" Firestar called with a grin as the femmes tightened ranks, refusing to let their guard down this close to home. They crossed the last half block, their battle line nearly a quarter of the city long closing the inner and outer lines and securing a fraction of the city from the plague of grays.

"Welcome back, I've got a surprise for your ladies." Gearshift smiled, holding up a cube of energon enticingly to the femme commander. "Get them inside and rationed. Then you're to move towards city center. We've got things here, especially with you ladies having cleared the district." The gray-green mech nodded his thanks, sending fresh mechs to take over the front lines while sending the weary back in to rest.

"Get your girls in to rest. You can head out after three groons rest, that's all the time we can spare for you." Gearshift smiled on the closest femmes, grateful their numbers had not been overly decimated. Still, the haunted echoes in their optics spoke volumes to how desperate their battles had become.

"Affirmative, you heard the mech, step to!" Chromia barked and slapped Gearshift on the shoulder as she passed letting him know her thanks through the simple gesture.


"Ironhide!" A familiar voice echoed across the courtyard, joy and despair ringing in the femme's tones. The call made Ironhide spin on his heel, optics bright as he looked upon his femme with hope and exuberant joy.

"Chromia!" He bellowed racing to embrace the slender blue femme running towards him and lifting her high before crushing her close to his chest sharing a deep, lingering kiss. "Yer alive an' prettier than ever, darlin'."

"You're incorrigible ya old flatterer." She smiled, caressing his face gently as she pressed their helms close.

"You two are corrupting your innocent younglin', Ma." Wheeljack spoke up with a slag-eating grin lighting his voice, audio fins flashing merrily as Chromia, startled out of her reunion smiled warmly and threw herself at Wheeljack.

"My youngling!" She squealed, hugging Wheeljack with crushing force he only just felt. "When did you get back? – And why are we crawling with nightwalkers?" She asked darkly staring at Optimus, Prowl, Trailbreaker, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe with dark, furious optics. Despite her harsh tone a trickle of fear for the mortals of Sanctuary ran down her spinal struts.

"Careful femme," Sunstreaker growled darkly.

"Or what?" Chromia asked with deceptive calm, hands tightening on her weapons as she locked bright blue optics with two sets of dark twilight.

"Small wonder where Ratch gets his violent streak." Sideswipe grinned at his brother then frowned at the piercing stare Chromia gave him. The femme seemed terrifying despite being half their mass and only marginally armed.

"Ratch? How do you know my youngling?" Chromia demanded icily, her optics narrowing to mere slits as she stalked towards the suddenly cowering nightwalker pair, "Tell. Me."

"Love, they're the ones that saved Healer's Wrath from the nightwalkers." Ironhide began, only to shut his mought as his mate turned on him, optics slitted dangerously as the pieces beganto fall into place.

"Then they're the ones that -!"

"Yeah, they bit our lad, but he's Dawn Fae, immune and safe. It's been months and he ain't turned yet. They've guarded him evah since, 'Mia." Ironhide held his femme's shoulder gently, conveying with touch his sincerity.

"Wait, Ratchet's here?" Chromia turned on her mate, optics bright with fury. Her optics tracked Ironhide's pointing finger looking to the green, glowing pillar of light and the location of her son. "Y – you mean, he – he's the Source?"

"Yes," Sunstreaker spoke, "And he's been putting out high energy for groons, maybe orns. We have to get to him, or he might terminate from exhaustion."

"Ratchet," Chromia gasped and raced towards the green pillar and her youngling, hoping to get there as the others followed her before Ratchet's spark expired.


"Alright, you're finished. Thank you." Aid grasped the mech's hand in thanks after he sealed of the energon line and ceased the transfusion.

The other smiled, "It was my pleasure, I'm just glad you thought of using energon transfusions to keep the master healer alive and well. He had us worried there for a while."

Aid sighed, looking up to Ratchet's worn and exhausted features. They had been here for three orns, although it felt like eons since they had looked down on the city from the snow covered hill after the afternoon of snowball fights. The memory made him smile for an instant, before his face fell in grief.

the gray's head thunked heavily onto his abdomen, the rest of the gray frame collapsing on top of him, stale energon leaking over him, soaking through his robes. Aid looked to his brothers, pulling on fresh robes after being once more rescued from being crushed by the dead weight. His joy at being reunited lasted only moments until the severed helm began to bite, the headless frame rising to pummel the living into gray piles of slag that would rise eventually…

So many had died, so many had risen to kill more; one gray had caused the deaths of over a hundred. Now, the square was secured, open and clear with mechs rotating out of secured street level shops and houses in short shifts guarding the square on street level, underground and from the roofs. Patrols searched the city beyond the secure front, hunting grays down in every nook and hovel. The grays continued to trickle in appearing at odd intervals, and still Cliffjumper and the others remained unaccounted for.

Aid looked around, grateful to be alone for a moment. Finally, terrified, tired, missing his brothers and master despite standing right beside him. Aid had never felt so isolated. He crouched, arms over helm and keened his grief and terror from days of battle and destruction with no end in sight. Life was so dark that termination almost seemed like a blessing, to no longer feel this desolate anguish. But, death was worse than living, now. Now, if he terminated he would take others with him and lead a fresh horde of the gray.

"If someone's hurt ya I'll rip 'em apart." Aid flinched and looped up at Cliffjumper, optics wide and desperate.

"Cliff," Aid rasped, falling forward to his knees and burying his face in his smaller lover's chest, arms holding the red frame desperately close. "Don't leave me."

"I ain't going anywhere, Primus couldn't drag me." A red hand sheltered the white helm gently, holding Aid close as he murmured sweet nothings to the weary healer until the white form fell asleep curled against Cliff's chest knowing he was finally safe.

Sideswipe snickered as he looked on the pair, earning himself a glower from the thoroughly pinned Cliffjumper. "How cute, the mini-bot and sleeping beauty – hey!"

"What are you calling my little brother?" Sideswipe gaped staring into the face of a mech nearly as tall as Galvatron, easily as big as Optimus himself.

"Uh, Cliffjumper is your brother?" Sideswipe looked between the behemoth and the mini-bot in surprise.

"No, you moron, First Aid!" Another mech small and slender barked furiously.

"Oh, well, then he's alright. Cliffjumper is another story altogether." Sideswipe smiled winningly.

"Keep talkin' and I'll rip ya apart ya cold sparked monster." Cliffjumper roared from the ground.

"How sweet," Sunstreaker murmured with a dark grin promising pain, "After all this time he still thinks you have a spark."

"You'd think he'd learn," Sideswipe grinned, easily slipping from the larger mech's grasp with a conniving grin and optics darkened to nearly black gleaming a venomously dark purple. "We never had one."

The brothers shared a dark grin before looking to Ratchet moving close and taking in the creased brow knitted in exhausted concentration. "How can he still be online?" Sideswipe looked the white figure over carefully before noting the single sleeve rolled up over his elbow, a fresh bandage covering the transfusion port all mechs possessed in the crease of their elbow.

"Sirs, the healer has been performing energon transfers every few hours. It started two orns ago, Master Healer nearly collapsed from exhaustion." A mech in worker's overalls approached, clutching his elbow crease spoke tiredly. "I just finished my transfusion a breem ago. He'll be fine for a time."

"Good," Sideswipe sighed, "I hope we finish this soon." He looked out over the city tiredly. They all were tired, ready to find peace after so many months of travel and fighting. So many immortals in one group and still they had been worn past the limits of exhaustion just to get this far.

"We need ta reign this shield o' his in, shrink it till he can function properly again. This ain't healthy fer the lad." Ironhide looked his son over with concern, still wary of the vampyers standing protective guard over him. "Dear Primus, lad, even his chevron's lookin' pale."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared a confused glance then looked to Ratchet once more. He still held his strange appearance, the chevron entirely missing and now, up close they could make out the bulges in the back of his robes where wings remained folded securely.

:: What the slag?::

::He's burning off his guise.:: Sideswipe breathed, suddenly realizing why the mortals saw one thing, while they saw another. If they did not stop his work soon, Ratchet would be forever exposed as a fey.

"There may be a way to let him quit this." Wheeljack spoke finally, fingers holding his chin in thought. "There are crystals that can absorb energy then reproduce it when excited with the right spectrum of light. If I can whip one up with the right device to hold it we can replicate the shield over Ratchet's then snap him out of this."

Chromia shared a worried glance with Ironhide before looking to Wheeljack, placing a calm hand on her son's shoulder, "It might replicate the light, and maybe the color but, Jackie, how can it hold back the curse?"

"The necromancers are dead, so the curse's origin is gone. Until a mech passes away and stays dead we have to assume the curse passes from murderer to victim, spreading like a touch-plague." Wheeljack replied calmly, optics still studying his brother who was looking frail and almost translucent in the dim green light, a strange double image forming of Ratchet somehow different in each layer. The image hurt Wheeljack's optics but still he studied the frame of his brother wondering if there was something else at work here.

"Alright, lad, what do ya need?" Ironhide asked, summoning more guards to watch over the pinned Cliffjumper, First Aid and Ratchet. As guards stood at attention around the healers Wheeljack and several alchemists worked to create a way to save Ratchet from rusting where he stood. Wheeljack's only purpose was to save his big brother, to keep his family whole in the face of all the darkness around them. Desperate for an answer he swore to find a solution, even if it killed him.


"Ugh, how can they keep doing this?" Bumblebee asked several groons later as the shield overhead brightened with the dawning of the fourth orn. "Wheeljack has worked for groons and Ratchet's still standing. I'm exhausted and I've slept for six groons."

"You mean you overslept," Cliffjumper groused, still upset and mortified that he had been pinned beneath First Aid for ten groons solid then grilled by the healer's big brothers until just moments ago. He looked over his shoulder warily at the clustered brothers five he found himself embroiled with.

"So how's the family?" Bee asked with a huge slag-eating grin, winking roguishly at his friend.

"Shut up. It's bad enough having a lover twice my size, but now I'm suddenly the littlest brother and doted on by the behemoth." He grumbled petulantly as Hot Spot and the others waved exuberantly at him, all smiling hugely as they hugged First Aid close. The poor kid had been clung to since he woke up, none of his brothers letting him out of their sight for an astrosecond.

"At least, now, you have a family." Bee replied gently, "We never had that in the dorms of the assassins guild. Just be happy they accepted you, they could have forced you to leave Aid."

"I know," Jumper smirked, "They just asked me at the end if I thought Aid was happy."

"Then it must be good enough. Come on, they need fresh bodies on the patrol line."

"Sure, beats sitting around here all day." Cliff admitted as they grabbed blasters and headed toward the distant front line. Bee smiled wistfully as his friend waved to Aid, turning without worry knowing that the healer was in good hands.


Birdsong filled his audios, the air scented with the chilled first breath of spring. Deep intakes chilled his frame, making him ache in ways he never knew were possible. Optics, aching and tired slowly creaked online taking in the dim room with a green tinted sky beyond.

"Green?" His voice rasped befuddled as sluggish processors painfully attempted to reboot, he could have sworn the sky had once been blue.

"Hey, lover," Sideswipe smiled over Ratchet looking down on the still pale and worn features of the white healer, the dark chevron seeming darker from the weariness dimming the still pale green optics. Sideswipe grinned wider, focusing his optics just a little differently he could still make out Ratchet's true features beneath the guise.

"Lover … Sideswipe?" Ratchet finally smiled, optics brightening as memory caught up. "Why is the sky green?"

"Jack remade your powers in a gem." Sunstreaker appeared beside his brother, dark optics shining with relieved affection to see their lover once more awake. "You were in a shield trance for nearly five days. Aid gave transfusions along the way, but you've weakened."

A warm hand caressed Ratchet's face gently, he couldn't tell who's hand was tracing his cheek plating, or who's thumb tenderly traced his lower lip. The hands on his plating felt so real, they grounded him making his pain and weariness more real while making his spark glad that they were there.

"What happened?" Ratchet rasped finally, bleary optics looking up to his lovers until they climbed beside him. Strong arms held him close, surrounding him in comforting warmth as they gently recounted the last few orns. They told their tale in fits and spurts, letting Ratchet sleep when he could. The day passed lazily letting the three catch up on the many orns spent apart until Ratchet finally could move himself easily.

"A lot of folks are waiting to see you," Sideswipe spoke when dawn returned once more, the distant sky beyond the shield dark with just a faint stripe of light rising below. The red vampyre stirred, stretching languidly despite spending a full orn in a berth curled up with his lover. Ratchet only held out his hand, letting his more rested lovers pull him from the berth when his frame refused to respond.

"Come on, love," Sunstreaker smiled happily puling Ratchet to him. "Your creator has been threatening us with a rough sanding and throwing us beyond the barrier to roast. You wouldn't want me to ruin my perfect plating do you?"

Ratchet smiled wistfully, "No, I wouldn't." He looked his lovers over critically taking in the tiny imperfections in their finish. "Why the slag haven't you two been taking care of yourselves?" Ratchet suddenly roared, his optics flashing in fury as he took in tiny wounds that littered his lovers frames. With a rough snort he grabbed his satchel from the corner it had rested in while he recovered and turned to making his lovers' frames shine in perfection.

"Come on, Ratch!" Sideswipe whined three groons later when their lover finally stored the last of his healing supplies. Sunstreaker slipped on a rich blue shirt with slow sensuality, optics tracking Ratchet, noting how his lover slowed becoming distracted with his show and smirked as Sideswipe repeated the process slipping on a deep bloody hued shirt that matched his plating. By now Ratchet was nearly drooling watching them only to snap out of his reverie when he remembered his creators were waiting for him beyond their comfortable quarters.

"You're right Sides, let's go." Ratch smiled at them knowingly as he turned away from the pair heading out towards the rest of the inn they were in this time and the creators he had not seen since deep in winter.

The twins grinned at each other, each moving to Ratchet's side and clinging to one hand each. They traveled down the corridor from their quarters to the main room, finding Ratchet's and First Aid's families sitting together sipping early rations of energon.

Ratchet sighed, "This can't be good." He squeezed his lovers hands gently then moved forward finally setting sights on his creators. The room stilled as he entered, all looking at him before they broke into applause. Nervous, uncertain and bewildered Ratchet silently waved at the others before moving to the table with his family, silently noting with distaste how only one chair waited for him.

Wheeljack waved at him cheekily, audio fins flashing a cheeky green as he glanced at their creators as if sharing some deep secret. Ratchet moved to his chair, hands resting silently ontop of the high back as he looked pointedly to Bluestreak sitting silently beside Bumblebee at a small table across the dining room. "So, one happy family?"

"Yup," Wheeljack laughed merrily, "At least until we convince our loving creators that our intended lovers haven't brainwashed us into accepting them. Then, it's their turn." Wheeljack sighed, "Blue's terrified."

"Small wonder," Ratchet pulled out his chair and finally sat down, "I'm terrifying to him."

"I wonder why," Chromia smiled fondly, "I'd like to think we raised the pair of you well." She looked Ratchet over intently, her faint smile spreading wider as she looked at her son. "I am so proud of you."

"Chromia," Ratchet huffed, neck plates prickling in embarrassment at her doting words. "I just did what I could." He looked to his hands, seeing the blood of the dead and that of their victims, "Its not like I saved anyone."

"Now, none o' that, lad." Ironhide rumbled, "Ya saved plenty, just 'bout everyone still livin'. Yer shields kept the sick from terminiatin', cured most o' them and kept the wounded alive just that much longer. You did the hardest of the work. We just did the dirty kind."

Ratchet nodded, letting his creators believe what they wanted. They had not seen the gray alive and well, they had not healed the mech to full health only to watch him crumple and die. They had not seen every instant of the fight through the all seeing optics of the shield, and been unable to do anything. He had seen his lovers trying to get through, seen Wheeljack save them when he could not even shift one tiny opening in the solid light lest he open the shields to everything.

"Ratchet," Chromia pulled him from his thoughts and placed a cube of lightly tinted blue energon in his hand, "Those nightwalkers haven't touched you have they?"

"Not in any way I didn't want them to." Ratchet replied as Wheeljack spluttered and Ironhide cursed. Chromia gaped at him, face plating heating before suddenly glaring icily.

"And that means what, precisely?"

Ratchet huffed, "Did you tumble 'Hide before you bonded?"

"Ratchet!" Chromia scolded, optics bright while Jack guffawed with his head on the table hidden within his folded arms.

"Tha's none o' yer business." Hide rumbled darkly, tone hued with mortification.

"And my business is none of yours." Ratchet replied flatly, then sighed. "I am with both of them, and I haven't a clue what they see in me. I love the hellions, probably more than I should. They keep me from overworking myself, pull me from my duties to recharge and refuel. If it hadn't been for them Aid and I would have died out there this winter."

"Ratchet," Chromia sighed. "I'm just worried. They're vampyre-hybrids, ancient by all accounts and the childes of the Beast. You may be immune, but they could have slave-bound you."

"I know, carrier." Ratchet sighed, "But they didn't." He paused before looking up to meet her optics flatly, "They can't kill me, Chromia. They are bound to me. The curse upon them by Alpha Trion binds them to me, if I die, so do they and if I grow weary of them, they die anyway."

Chromia swallowed nervously while Ironhide downed a fresh cube in a single gulp. Coming from anyone else the news would have been terrifying, but from Ratchet it just made their sparks ache. Ratchet would never willingly cause the death of another if it could be helped.

Chromia fidgeted silently then patted Ratchet's hand fondly, "I was hoping you'd tell us how you're doing now." The brothers looked to one another and sighed.

"Fine, I'm fine. Tired, and I feel hollow somehow, but when I'm with them I don't notice it as much. I think it's mostly because they keep forcing me to take small rations like clockwork, and bug the slag out of me when I get too quiet." Ratchet looked around the room, feeling his lovers optics on him but they were nowhere in sight. He smiled, knowing they were invisible, and probably right beside him. "They hover," Ratchet looked to a corner, noting the slight haze and smiled, "Even when I am perfectly safe. I don't want to face a world without them, and they refuse to stay in an empty world without me."

"Yer serious." Ironhide sighed exasperatedly, fingers pressing wearily against his optics. "Primus be, lad, they're –"

"Don't call them monsters." Ratchet glared firmly. "They're nightwlakers, just like 'Jack. They were born, just like you two. Unlike me they know where they came from and what they are. The only monster here is me. I'm some unknown creature that you happened to raise, using a name another fey gave me claiming to know what I am!"

"Ah was gonna say incorrigible, ruthless, crude idiots with a taste fer violence. When are ya gonna get it through yer thick helm that you an' yer brother bein' what ya are don't make one whit o' difference to us. An' after this pit spawned fiasco we've been through no one else does either. Now tell those heathens ta quit skulking in that corner over there an' come join us."

"But, what about Jack?" Ratchet squawked looking with youngling-like betrayal between his brother and creators. Ratchet had been grilled this entire time and 'Jack is just accepted? It was not fair.

"He spilled yesterday." Chromia deadpanned. "Bluestreak babbled for hours after that."

"You never told me that!" Wheeljack wailed, looking to his lover with frustration only to find Blue standing at his elbow smiling apologetically.

"We're family now, but we haven't been able to get close to your lovers. They always vanish before we can talk to them." Chromia growled frustratedly.

"Ratchet has family, something we were always short on." Sideswipe suddenly materialized, sitting in a seat on Ratchet's left. "We couldn't ask him to give you up just for us."

"But don't think we would have given up on him." Sunstreaker murmured, appearing on Ratchet's right, golden hand entwined with cherry red. "If you had made him choose, we would have intervened." The dark promise that they would never have left Ratchet's side soothed Chromia's spark only slightly, but the smile Ratchet bore told her, even if things did not stay perfect, that they were happy.

"Well," Chromia grinned hugely, "When's the bonding ceremony? Oh, and since both of you were sparked, I want grand-sparks, lots of them. I don't care what talents they have, or when they come. I think six would be just perfect."

"Alright, now you're scaring me." Ratchet breathed, looking with fear between his creators, while trying not to laugh at his pole axed lovers. "Just how are three mechs supposed to produce sparklings anyhow?"

"Oh, you know, tab A, slot B and with a few modifications, one of you can carry. It's not that hard, my creators were both femmes." Chromia smiled fondly, "Just make sure my younglin' stays well and happy and if he ever cries because of you I'll be coming after you." Sideswipe and Sunstreaker gulped in fear at the femme's soft, endearing voice paired with her lethally slitted optics and ferocious snarl. Still, the thought of a miniature golden Ratchet with Sideswipe's taste for pranks filled Sunstreaker's processors and the image made his spark swell. Maybe they could, one day, have childes of their own.


"So, what now?" Bee asked in the town square as he looked up to the pristine blue sky. Mechs had finally returned to staying dead when they terminated, and with that return to normalcy so did the sky as Wheeljack's machine was powered down for the first time in half a season.

Cliffjumper sat nearby at First Aid's side sharpening several bolts on a whetstone while the healer fidgeted with his new Masters robes. Jack and Blue stood together a short distance away, Jack puzzling over a new contraption he had come up with. Blue whittled a small wooden figurine, wood dust and shavings coating his clothes in their white powder. Ratchet knelt by his healing kit refilling and replacing serums and vials while Sideswipe tinkered with his energon machine and Sunstreaker, shirt off, polished his armor in a free show that had most passerby's drooling. The three lovers' seemed to act more and more like they had never met, or couldn't stand each other. Wheeljack was betting that they were forcing the facade to keep Chromia from harping about grand-sparks again.

"What do you mean?" Ratchet asked finally, "My teaching assignment begins next week. Sides' is opening his brewery, Sunstreaker his art stand." He lifted a vial towards the sun, checking its contents for clairity, "We'll send Jack and Blue off back to Sanctuary with Jazz and Prowl tomorrow. First Aid has his first rotation in the hospital next week."

"Us," Bee glanced around the others, finger circling to include them all, "Will we become little more that a memory, 'that one winter long ago'?"

"No, Bee," Wheeljack retracted his face mask and grinned his bright gap-toothed smile. "We'll stay close, just later it will be hard."

"Cause we're mortal, and you lot don't age." Cliffjumper smiled and sighed, "Don't worry about it. Think of a mortal as a soldier, we'll be cut down eventually, it's just a matter of when, not if. One day we'll be gone, and you'll still be here, but just as long as we don't to get ourselves killed it'll be quite a while before that happens."

"Besides, we have too much to do." First Aid looked to his mentor – now, equal – "Cliff, my brothers and I are going to set up an emergency tower north of the Sanctuary. Streetwise already came up with the name Grayling, the town where every being in seen is shades of gray. We'll be able to respond to the needs of the villages faster, and when Galvatron rears his ugly helm again Iacon will know."

"And what about you?" Sideswipe grinned at Bee, "You keep asking what we're going to do."

"I – I don't know," Bee sighed, "Cliffjumper's the closest thing to family I've got."

"So come with us, I'm sure we can find a nice, small little femme just your style." Cliff grinned and waggled his optic ridges as Bee flushed.

"Then its settled, we meet up whenever we can, right now I just want to live." Sideswipe smiled on Ratchet happy to finally know peace. The group worked in contented silence, ignoring the city around them. Their small sanctuary of contented silence created a haven from those watching them with ever spreading whispers of the saviors of Iacon, and the bringer of Primus' light. Today the group rested, and tomorrow would begin the rest of their lives.

The End