Atonement
Chapter 3—Step Up
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.
Kaon, Cybertron
Galvatron, Lord High Protector of Cybertron, stared up at the ceiling of his quarters, thinking. Recharge wouldn't come, so he rolled off his berth, pacing. The silence in his mind was disquieting. The human saying "alone with his thoughts" fit. He'd been, in effect, healed by the Autobots' Matrix of Leadership when it cured the Hate Plague. The madness in his mind and spark was gone, and along with it, the taint of Unicron.
As Megatron, his mania had been held in check; his unmaking at the hands of Unicron changed him in ways he could never imagine. Being reborn as Galvatron had taken only moments, but he'd perceived it as taking much longer. And the torture. . .Primus, he would never forget. Unmade, stripped down to nothing, then remade into a creature something other than the proud warrior he once was. More than misguided, perhaps, but Megatron at least had his wits about him. Galvatron, for a time, was something else. Now, he was trying to make up for all the wrongs he'd done. Once, he'd been right in his conviction, but he'd been corrupted by power. He would not, could not let that happen again. He knew what was at stake, not just himself, but his homeworld.
Ah, yes, himself. Galvatron allowed himself a wry smile at that. He knew what would happen if he stepped out of line, if Optimus Prime even suspected he was planning something. It wasn't a threat, but statement of fact. Prime would kill him, or, if he didn't have the courage to face Optimus in combat once again, he'd better be willing to offline himself. At least Optimus gave him a choice, but it was one Galvatron was not going to exercise. He'd been through too much to give up the chance he'd been given. There was no penance in the universe that could make up for the lives he'd taken and the destruction caused, but by the Matrix, he was going to try. Damn Prime, damn the Matrix, and damn Primus. Galvatron walked out to the balcony, and took off, heading toward Vos. A certain Seeker was long overdue and apology, and much more.
88888
Earth, Autobot City
Ratchet watched as Prowl backpedaled away, knocking over a tray of instruments, and called after the other Autobot as he ran from the med bay. The sparkling didn't even startle at the noise. Not a good sign, the medic reflected, checking the monitors. He couldn't get her to feed, which was the most pressing issue for the sparkling, considering her prematurity and size. She'd die, and soon, if he couldn't get her to turn the corner. He sat down on the berth by Springers, rocking the sparkling. She didn't rouse, but it made him feel better. Rocking younglings was something Cybertronians had in common with humans. It made Ratchet feel better, rocking her, trying to let her know she was cared for, and she had a reason to live.
Prowl's reaction, however, was something he could do something about. He commed Jazz, knowing the specops commander was on duty, letting him know to be on the lookout for Jazz.
Except Jazz was already aware of the problem from the look on his friend's face when he walked back into ops.
"Prowler, what is it?" he asked.
"My quarters, we can talk there," Prowl said.
Jazz followed him, noting the tension in Prowl's frame in the short walk to his friend's quarters. Prowl let himself in, and Jazz followed.
Prowl didn't even wait until the door closed. "It's Springer," he said. "He's in the med bay. I don't know how long he'll be out, and that's not all. He was sparked."
Jazz didn't move. He knew Prowl and Springer had been involved for a short time, but not that the relationship was that serious. "Was?"
"The sparkling is alive, but how viable. . ." Prowl said. "You should see her. She's so small. . ." His vents hitched, and he hit his knees, sobbing. Jazz knelt down beside him, wrapping his arms around his friend. And that was where he stayed, holding Prowl until the sobs abated, and the other mech fell into recharge.
88888
Just after 0400. The med bay was dark, and it took Springer a few moments to remember why he was there. A glance over at Ratchet, who was in recharge face down on a console, reminded him of just why he was in the med bay. The triple changer sat up slowly, grimacing at the pain in his spark chamber as he moved. He pulled at the various wires connected to his frame, ripping out the energon line last. It smarted, but it was the least of his worries. He had to get away.
0600. The angry comm from Ratchet roused Hot Rod from recharge. :Find Springer and bring him back before I do: was enough to get Hot Rod out of his berth and on his feet. Luckily for Springer, the first place Hot Rod looked was where he found his friend—Lookout Mountain. Hot Rod followed an energon trail across the observation platform, finding Springer sitting on the edge. The green mech had one hand pressed over the seam in his chest armor.
"Figured you'd be the one to find me," Springer said.
"Damn straight," Hot Rod said. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I needed some time to think," Springer said.
"About the fact you should be in the med bay, maybe devoting some time to your daughter?" Hot Rod said.
"I made a mistake," Springer said. "The kid'll do fine without me."
"That sparkling will die if you don't take care of her," Hot Rod said. "She's not doing well. And how can you say a new life is a mistake? Why didn't you tell me? Don't you trust me anymore?"
Springer shot him an angry look. "Like you've had much time for anyone or anything but Prime, or duty," he said. "You probably wouldn't have had the time to listen if I did want to talk."
"Well, I'm here now, aren't I? So talk," Hot Rod said.
"Prowl's gonna kill me," Springer said. "I knew we should've called it off long before we did."
"Prowl's the sire?" Hot Rod asked, trying to keep the shock off his face.
"Hot Rod, for a while, after he got out of the med bay, he was so lost. He didn't think he had a place anymore, with Optimus dead, and you Prime, you were so busy, you didn't notice," Springer said, struggling to stand, but he made it to his feet. "You were trying to put Cybertron back together, and Magnus riding you so hard. . ."
"I'm glad you found each other, but the pressing issue now is getting you back to the med bay so Ratchet can patch you back up and you can get to know your sparkling," Hot Rod said.
"Like I told you, she'll be fine. Prowl's cut out for this parent thing, I'm not. . ."
Crack. Springer hit the ground, not believing his best friend had the gall to hit him. Then Hot Rod was jerking him to his feet.
"You're going to do the right thing," Hot Rod said. "This had nothing to do with me being a Prime, or Optimus, or anything else. This is about you doing what you need to do to make sure your daughter lives. Are we clear?"
Springer nodded in affirmation, but he started to shake.
"We better get you back to Ratchet. Can you transform?"
"I shouldn't try," Springer said.
"That didn't stop you before," Hot Rod retorted, slipping an arm around the other mech to hold him up.
"I wasn't bleeding then, or seeing stars," Springer said.
"Primus. . ." Hot Rod muttered. He commed Optimus, asking the other Prime to meet him atop the mountain. "Optimus is going to come give us a ride back."
"Great," Springer muttered.
"You're lucky it's him and not Ratchet," Hot Rod said.
"Optimus is better than Magnus, too," Springer said.
"You're gonna need every ounce of sense we can knock into that processor of yours," Hot Rod said.
Springer snorted, but he leaned against Hot Rod, throwing his arms around his friend.
"Rodi, I'm afraid," he said.
"Optimus and I will be there for you, no matter what happens," Hot Rod said. "She needs you, so does Prowl."
"You promise you'll be there for us?"
"I wouldn't make a promise I can't keep," Hot Rod said. "Who's the grown-up now, eh, brother?"
Springer snorted. "It's a cold day in the Pit, with you being the grown-up," he said.
Hot Rod smiled, touching his helm's to Springer's. Maybe things would be all right.