A/N: Aaand this marks the end of the first sort-of story arc. Updates will continue like usual once a week, the next chapter will just be the start of the next sort-of story arc :D And probably the story arc that warrents the M-rating so, uh, yeah. Consider that a warning/promise-if-I-actually-manage *cough*. Also, explanation snuck into this chapter. I hadn't planned it but Ironhide wanted answers :p

Afternoon found Will waiting on one of the disused runways, flexing his clawed fingers and pacing restlessly on worn concrete in a vain attempt to rid himself of at least some of the mix of nervousness and excess energy that nagged at the edge of his processors. It would have been bad enough with just one of the things to deal with, but together they created a never-ending feedback loop, nervousness feeding energy feeding nervousness, and the Seeker part was sending almost panicked looks to the sky, torn between taking off because it could, and staying because this was important, this was Sarah, this was bonded, and Will did the only thing he could do and tried to keep from being swept away in the Seeker's emotions, too.

It had been easier when the thing had been asleep in the back of his mind, but being told it was free to fly had roused it and it had stayed awake every since... and with it came the familiar, restless, almost claustrophobic echo of the excess energy that had sent him into that desperate flight in the first place.

Another restless flex of clawed fingers, fear settling in the pit of his stomach as a dozen lines and as many possible reactions flashed before his optics and he still didn't know what to say, one attempt after another considered and dismissed as he waited for Sarah's arrival.

The sound of tires against concrete, a vague sensation of something there in the back of his processors – not a bond as much as simple awareness of the presence of someone known and trusted – and he forced himself to stand still as the familiar Search and Rescue Hummer approached him on the runway and came to a halt a bit away, a small, human figure making its way out. Hesitation, the slight tightening of hands against the door that Will only noticed because he had been watching so closely, and then Sarah shut the door and stepped back, and nervousness turned to sudden panic as Ratchet headed back towards the hangars and left the two figures on the runway alone. So small, so fragile, processors kicking into overdrive-

-Big, clumsy, confused, dangerous-

- and then the Seeker stepped in, soundless murmurs and feelings of reassurance, of trust, of care and affection and protection, and Will clenched his fists and forced the panic aside.

Soft footsteps against concrete as Sarah approached and while he had seen her a few times since he had first woken up in the infirmary, this was so very different. There had been other mechs there, someone to keep an eye on him, and she had been kept at a safe distance, and now...

He was big and clumsy and dangerous on the ground, and he hadn't been given the time at all to get used to it, and he sent a desperate thought to the Seeker even as Sarah came closer, familiar features still so foreign to him as he viewed them through alien optics.

Help me. Please.

A startled moment of surprise-

-Understanding, trust, promise, care-

- and then he was moving, thirty feet of alien war machine kneeling carefully on the runway, and there was nothing but complete surrender as he rested the back of his hands against concrete, lethal fingers kept perfectly still as the small human stopped only a few feet away from him.

Silence, waiting for her verdict with icy fear running through his every Energon line – there had always been an audience before, never been a chance to talk alone, never been a chance to really react – and then Sarah made a small sound, soft and tired and worried, and he had never been more proud of her, never felt more undeserving, than when he saw her reach out and felt an infinitely small human hand against a much, much larger metal finger.

Flesh against metal, skin against alloy, steady heat against the unevenness of his own body temperature as it responded to heat and cold and wind and rain and atmosphere, and he opened his hand a bit more, yielding soundlessly and silently offering his own encouragement in return.

She didn't speak and if her hand trembled almost imperceptibly, Will didn't mention it. Whatever the Seeker part of him might think, the breed was downright ugly from a human point of view, and the distinctively non-organic looks didn't help on the comfort factor, either. Ironhide, Ratchet, Bumblebee... Autobots in general tended to look a lot more organic than the 'Cons, metal or not, and Will was painfully aware of the sight he made, every part, every claw, every curve and joint and plate clearly created with war in mind. Ratchet was a medic. Bumblebee was a scout. Even Optimus hadn't been sparked for war, and the few Autobots who were still had less of an alien appearance than the 'Cons did.

Blue optics and Autobot insignia or not, William Lennox looked like a Decepticon, and the Seeker shifted uncomfortably in his mind at the reminder as they both waited silently, unmoving and apprehensive, for any sign at all about how the encounter would go.

A subconscious scan responded somewhere in Will's systems, revealed a normal body temperature and a slightly elevated pulse in the small being in front of him, and then she pursed her lips in a familiar, determined expression and hesitated for only a second to allow him to object before she sat down carefully in the palm of his hand, a gingerly hold on his finger with one small hand and resting the other on a wide, metallic palm.

Heat, heartbeat, softness, trust, and Will's optics shuttered, and there was nothing he wouldn't have done for her in that moment, and the soft, hesitant sound of a gentle croon whispered through the air as the Seeker added its agreement.

He lifted his hands carefully, the unoccupied one resting slightly below the other if she should even look like she might lose her balance, and only the way her pulse sped up slightly on his scanner revealed that she was anything other than perfectly at ease in his hand.

He should ask her about Annabelle, about how she was doing, about how they were both doing, a million questions and a million worries and a million apologies, and all he found himself able to do was listen to the sound of the silence between them, strangely soothing and comfortable as the Seeker feel silent, too, and Will bowed his head slightly and cradled the precious being in his hands with infinite care.

I love you, he said silently.

Sarah shifted, rested her forehead against the coolness of one metal finger before she moved again and curled up in his hand and Will's spark twisted at the memory of the same motion repeated on their couch back home too many times to count.

Human eyes met alien optics as she looked up, and then she smiled – tiredly, weakly, but genuine, and her response was as silent as his but still easily understood to someone as familiar with her smiles as he was.

Don't ever scare me like that again, the smile said, and then she leaned against his fingers, closed her eyes, and simply rested like a hundred times before.

I love you, too, she added in a soundless whisper.

And for just a moment, he was home again.

Ironhide had stopped pacing not long after Ratchet had returned to one of the main Autobot hangars. It was fascinating to watch from a purely medical standpoint – just about all Cybertronians could shield their bonds without even a second thought long before they reached adulthood. Watching the effects of an unshielded bond on someone as old as Ironhide was... interesting. Possibly, Ratchet mentally conceded, because he himself wasn't the one on the receiving end of it.

The restlessness Ironhide had displayed in the time leading up to the meeting between the human-turned-Cybertronian and his human bonded was clearly the effects of his bond with said Cybertronian, and Ratchet felt a bit reassured when that restless pacing had finally stopped. He had been impressed with the human female and her reactions to it all but still, it had all been in the company of someone else, and he was well aware that her response to it when she was finally alone with her bonded could be... rather less favourable, too.

He picked nothing up from his own bond with Ironhide – not surprising, considering that they were both quite capable of shielding it – and after watching the weapon specialist for long moments he finally asked the question that kept nagging his processors.

"How is he?"

Intakes vented as Ironhide waited for a moment – considering the situation, or possibly trying to make sense of the emotions he received – but he remained at ease and that was an encouraging sign, at least.

"Calm," the dark mech finally replied. "Relieved. I would assume the meeting went well."

There was more between the lines, silently letting Ratchet know that anything past that was personal and none of his slagging medical business, and Ratchet nodded slightly in acknowledgement to it all, spoken and unspoken, and knew that Ironhide would understand that, too.

Silence stretched for long moments and then Ironhide made some small sound, half frustration and half something Ratchet couldn't readily identify. "What is he?"

Ratchet's optics shuttered in a very human display of surprise. "A Seeker. I would not say 'of course', since the circumstances were rather unique, but medically speaking, he is a Seeker. You know that, Ironhide. You have seen him fly."

"That's my point," Ironhide frowned and blue optics narrowed at Ratchet. "He flies like an adult Seeker, but he can't block our bond unless I remind him to, and his processors run on core programming. Half the time when that thing takes over, it's like dealing with..."

"A sparkling?" Ratchet finished quietly. He had already gone over those same thoughts himself and with a lot more medical knowledge to assist him, too, and truthfully, Ironhide's question was not that much of a surprise. He had expected it eventually – not this soon, granted, but it was easy to forget that Ironhide did have some fast processors underneath it all.

Ironhide was silent, only a frown giving an idea of his feelings on that matter, and Ratchet continued. "He is not. Seeker sparklings do not have mating instincts the way he does and I would have stepped in if I had any doubts about the ethics of... this." The relationship that the Seeker seemed very much determined to initiate and which Lennox seemed to have agreed with, too, but Ratchet didn't mention that part, and as Ironhide snorted softly, it became clear that he didn't have to, either.

"I know it's got its optics set on me," the dark mech drawled. "That's why I'm asking. You're going to turn me into spare parts if I damage the human part, sure, I got that, but did you really think I'd want to? I want to do this right. It's not Will's fault he got stuck with this and the least I can do is keep from fragging it up any further. I have to know what I'm dealing with, Ratchet, before I frag up something on accident. I'm not..." A pause, running scarred hands over his face in a surprisingly human gesture. "Slag it. I don't care what their programming says. If he's a slagging sparkling..."

Definitely some fast processors at work, and Ratchet's hopes for the whole situation improved marginally at that – there might still be plenty of ways for it all to end in disaster, anyway, but at least Ironhide seemed aware of the seriousness of it all. "To the best of my knowledge," he finally began, "the Seeker is a mature spark that was too weak to sustain itself. I have no way of confirming that theory, of course, but observing them for the past days, it's currently the most likely explanation I have." He made a soft sound, the tiredness and frustrations of the past week having caught up with even him. "I believed it to be a fully independent spark at first but observations would suggest otherwise. Every bit of programming he has shown suggests a mature spark but it has very little in terms of personality beyond that core programming. To the best of my knowledge, anything it has done so far that has been based on thoughts more complex that basic Seeker instincts has been a result of the human side instructing it."

Another long moment of silence and while Ironhide didn't look convinced, he didn't quite look ready to argue yet, either. "So that thing when Lennox isn't fighting it is what the 'Con Seekers would be without those Pit-spawned personalities to bug us?"

"Essentially, yes," Ratchet agreed. "Let us be honest, Ironhide – any genuine Seeker would have left us in favour of Starscream and his trine at the earliest opportune moment. They have never been Autobots by nature. Why send a Seeker to this place with Autobot markings if it would turn on us within mere Earth-days? Why bind it to a human if the Seeker would be strong enough to manage on its own? If we were truly desperate, we could have forced it to bond with a mech here and bound it to us through those means instead. That Seeker spark was never intended to inhabit a body of its own. It was never strong enough to survive. "

And following that logic, it would hopefully never be strong enough to take over completely and permanently, either, but that particular bit remained a theory that Ratchet hoped he was right about. Why join the Seeker spark to a human at all if it was fated to overpower the human part, anyway? He was not the most religious of mechs and granted, Primus was a god of the Cybertronians, not the humans, but still... Ratchet liked to think that their creator would spare at least a thought for the small, organic allies that fought at their side despite their fragile nature and the brutal nature of their enemies. Soldiers or not, war or not, Ratchet preferred not to think that a loving creator would pick apart the spark of one of an allied species and use it for little more than spare parts to complete the Seeker that had claimed their base for its territory.

"The Seeker was joined with Lennox for a reason," Ratchet said quietly, firmly, like he was trying to convince himself as much as Ironhide. "The Seeker was never strong enough to survive on its own and no human spark is strong enough to carry a mech body, either, but it would not have to be. Two weak sparks joined together may burn brightly enough to remain alive, and the human side may remain enough in control to keep it from defecting at the first chance it gets."

Another frown from Ironhide and a glance at a wall in the direction where Lennox and his human bonded would be, and then he focused on the medic again.

"So getting rid of the Seeker..."

"Impossible," Ratchet said quietly. "I have no intentions of telling them that because that threat is one of the few effective weapons I do have to rein it in, but a human alone would not have the spark necessary to stay online in a Cybertronian body. Major Lennox would have lived as a human for perhaps another four or five decades, barring unforeseen events. Cybertronians live many times longer. Our sparks were intended to live in a physical body for longer than the human civilization has existed. Theirs were intended for bodies that for the most part do not live past a century. Removing the Seeker could be done but would kill them both. Lennox, perhaps, would live for a while past the removal of the Seeker, but eventually he would die as well." He straightened slightly and levelled a hard look at Ironhide, willing him to understand. "That is what you are 'dealing with' in them. They have to reach a compromise. The Seeker itself may appear simple-minded at times but make no mistake, Ironhide – it is no sparkling. It is a mature Seeker displaying its core instincts and it is all the more dangerous for it. The only common sense it is likely to have at this point is what Lennox has managed to teach it. It will learn more in time but for now, it is very much guided by its core programming."

"Flight, fight, and 'face," Ironhide summarised. "So it's not too bright, but at least I'm not... " Another half-frustrated sound. "It's an adult, at least. Frag. Did Lennox consent? He told me it wasn't all the Seeker the first time they went after me, but that was before you knocked some sense into it and I don't think he was himself back then, either. Now the thing's still interested in me, but I never asked-"

"-If Lennox agreed?" Ratchet finished. "Under normal circumstances this would fall under patient confidentiality but there is no reason to make this any harder to handle for him than it already is. I am unaware of the specifics of the compromise reached by him and the Seeker but at a guess and based on their behaviour around Optimus and myself, I would say that the compromise they agreed on is you." He shrugged. "Is that consent? That is a matter between you, your conscience, and Lennox. I will tell you this – Seekers were not sparked for celibacy. You can function perfectly fine without 'facing, whereas a Seeker will become physically and mentally affected by it. Lennox is still coming to terms with it all but he is aware of the issues of being a Seeker build. Is it consent when there is no other realistic option available? He will adapt, because that is in his spark, but until then... tread carefully, Ironhide. For the sake of everyone involved."

Ironhide turned his head again to look at the direction their new Seeker would be in, and then he looked away again with a troubled frown. He didn't speak and Ratchet wasn't going to force him to. Not all of the adaptation necessary would be on the part of the human in question and as Ratchet watched, Ironhide sat down, a tired expression on his features.

"Frag," he cursed, low and sparkfelt, and then fell silent again.

And in the privacy of his processors, Ratchet added his quiet agreement.