Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.

Chapter 43

There was nothing quite like the silence that came after an explosion. It was not something even experience changed. No matter how many vorns of battle a mech saw. When something as loud as ships getting blown out of the sky happened there was always a flinch. Even from a mech like Ironhide. The bright white flash of light and then the audio shattering boom that followed had the massive ebony mech twisting from the shower of plasma, metal, and fire that followed.

For a moment it was explosive chaos as the blast caught the haul of the black ship, engulfing it in a wall of blue fire before the systems of the ship, the energon, and plasma inside of it went up in a flare of bright light. The flash was so bright it blinded them all to the ship twisting to crash hard into Blue's sending them both to the sand and stone.

The crash of unyielding metal into stone rocked the ground and then there was silence. Only the crackling of flames which might as well have been none existent over the ringing in all their audios.

Silence . . . .

Ringing of the explosion echoing in their audios leaving the mechs shaking their heads before what just happened actually caught up in their processors.

When it did Optimus, the twins, and Ironhide broke from the line at a run toward the two balls of flame.

Jazz shoved himself to his peds, shaking from the ringing in his audios and the quivering ball of fear locked away in his spark vault, but no matter how bad his spark clenched he did not run for the fallen ships. Instead he spun on his heels and pulled Prowl off his aft.

"Help Blue!" He hissed, but a cry from up the hill stopped them both.

Optics darting up the hill to find Outrider catch a limp Smokescreen before he hit the dirt. It wasn't so much the fall that stopped Prowl's spark. It was the dull grey that had taken over his brother's bright paint.

Grey.

Grey like dead nanites.

Grey like death.

Prowl's throat constricted to the point he couldn't breath as Outrider slipped his arm under Smokescreen and pulled him up to rest against his chest. The Praxian lay limp in the larger mech's arms, the twin blades having already clattered to the ground from fingers leaking streams of energon down burnt fingers. Cobalt optics were dim and narrow as the massive red mech stared down at him shaking his head.

"Stupid idiot." Rider muttered, starting back down the hill. "Shouldn't have held it that long."

Prowl didn't get to sprint up the hill. Ratchet beat him to it.

Rider snarled at him before he got close though. "Leave it. He'll be find. Go help the damn idiot that thought a transport ship could take on Mayhem. Make sure that bastard is dead."

"He doesn't look fine!" Ratchet yelled back at him.

"Well that's because those swords are really fraggin' messed up and he's stupid to hold onto them that long. He'll wake up." At least Rider was pretty sure he would. He'd never actually turned this color before. He'd passed out sure, but he'd never turned grey.

Rider could feel him though. Through their link.

He wasn't dead.

However, Prowl and Jazz were a little too busy freaking out to notice that. However, that was not Rider's problem at the moment.

By that time Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had reached the wreckage. Not giving a damn about the foreign ship, they tore into the downed cargo ship through the cracked and flaming cockpit. It didn't take a lot of digging. A few quick yanks, panting breaths, and wide optics and Sunstreaker got a handful of smoking grey metal that looked more like a doorwing then shattered ship and yanked with all his might.

A pained squeal exploded through Bluestreak's vocal processor at the handling but at that point the golden twin didn't care. If he was screaming it meant the idiot was alive.

Heaving the smaller bot up and out of the burning pile of shattered glass and metal he let Sideswipe grab him by the back and haul them all backward just as another explosion rocked through the ships again blowing them back in a hot wave of charged air. They landed with another series of yelps and groans before Ironhide's hands somehow managed to get a hold of all three of them at once and start yanking. Before the billowing smoke and hot air cleared their coolant field optics the ebony mech had pulled them several feet away from the wreckage just as another boom went off from inside the fallen ships.

Optimus had tried getting close to the other fallen ship, but with every boom that went off he was forced backward. There was no getting close. There was also not much chance of anything still being alive.

So keeping his battlemask in place the towering Prime kept his shield raised to block as much of the waves of heat and flying scrap as he could as he hurried over to where Ironhide kept pulling the twins and Bluestreak backward. They were a good bit back before Hide deemed it safe enough that he could turn his attention from getting them back to making sure the grey idiot was alive.

Letting Sides and Sunny swing around and shove themselves to their feet Ironhide yanked Bluestreak before him and rapidly began checking the coughing and leaking mech over. He seemed okay. Brunt, dented, leaking, bruised, and coughing up his vents but in one pieces. It was more than could be said for the glitch that tried to kill them.

He didn't have to be Optimus to know there was no spark still leaving in that growing inferno.

Whoever the bot was, he was dead.

Not that Hide was anywhere near sadden by this prospect, but he had wanted to do it himself.

Then, suddenly, he was being shoved away and Ratchet had taken his place. Medical scans already running and hands flying as he checked over the young Praxian. Patching as he went while Blue did little more then lay there and cough. Granted there wasn't much else he could do with Ratchet pinning him down and working, but his head was spinning and his audios were ringing. He couldn't have stood up if he tried.

Not that Ratchet was going to let him try.

In a flash of silver Jazz was there. Frame shaking and claws trembling as he pressed past Hide to lean over Ratchet's side as he worked.

"Is he okay?"

Ratchet ignored him as the mech coughed and he worked.

Hide growled lowly beside Jazz.

"Were is Bee?"

Seeming to startle at the question Jazz looked up at the huge ebony mech before glancing down at his chest. Quickly popping the pressurized locks on his chest plating and peeling it back, cracking his spark vault locks as well until he pulled a quivering bundle of yellow plating free and handed him to Ironhide.

Hide tucked him to his chest in a protective fist before backing away from the heat and burning ships. He needed to get the mechling away from it and fast so he left the young gunner to the medic, the twins, Optimus, and Jazz and retreated to where he could see his brother crouched in the sand holding Smokescreen and keeping Prowl from getting a hold of him.

That wouldn't end well, but for now he had a mechling to worry around.

Bee was quivering, terrified against his chest. To afraid to even wonder out loud what was happening around him. Instead he just clung to the thick metal of Hide's armor. Tucking into the grooves between the armor and trembling the tiny mechling stared to with wide optics. Trying to make sense of what was going on around him but having no grasp to ever do so.

His spark pounded hard and shaky in his chest. Instinctively reaching out in an effort to find comfort as much as to find all those that were supposed to be around him. Their sparks were flared, scared, and angry, but alive. For now alive was all Bumblebee was concerned with.

Behind them, crouch in the sand Ratchet was sealing the last puncture he could along Blue's chest as the still rattled Praxian blinked up at him wondering why suddenly there were two of him when Jazz growled out next to the medic, repeating himself.

"Is he okay?"

Ratchet huffed, leaning back on his heels and nodding. "Yeah, he'll be fine. Rattled and his audios are damaged, but fine."

"Good."

And with that Jazz shoved the medic backward, launched himself forward, took Bluestreak by the shoulders and started shaking him hard enough to rattle his armor as the saboteur screamed at him pretty much what every one of them were thinking..

"YOU IDIOT! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR PRIMUS DAMN MIND!? WHAT THE FRAG WERE YOU THINKING!?"

Blue had no reply, but that was more because he was being shaken so hard he didn't dare open his mouth for fear of biting off his own tongue. That and Jazz was more than a little scary right now with his claws digging into the gunner's armor and his visor darkened but not at all hiding the dangerous gleam in his optics.

Nor did he stop shaking him.

"Alright!" Ratchet snapped, latched hold of Jazz's shoulder and yanked him backward. "That's enough. He's rattled enough without your help!"

"Oh mute it!" Jazz swung on him with a snarl. "Go help Smokey!"

"Smokey?" Blue's head finally stopped spinning enough that he could actually make sense of what he was hearing. Bright optics flaring wide when he did as he sat up right.

No!

He'd done it so none of them died! It couldn't have happened! Not after he—

"Calm down, Blue." Jazz's voice softened as he knelt back down in front of the grey mech. The anger that had burned within him cooling off to let him realize how much of it had just been fear. Granted he was still fraggin' pissed at the doorwinged fool, but an explanation for this stunt could be had after the sniper stopped panicking.

Smokey might still be unsure what to feel about Bluestreak but Prowl and Jazz both knew Blue had already made up his mind. He'd flip the frag out if he saw him right now. Not that Jazz was doing much better but Rider seemed to think he was okay.

Even if he looked the furthest thing from it at the moment.

Ratchet had reached Rider by then, kneeling down in front of the huge red warrior only to be growled at again as he pulled his best friend against his chest. Ratchet didn't pry, for one in his life. He simply sat there and watched, keeping a hand on Prowl's shoulder as they watched the color slowly seep back into his frame.

Outrider sat there in the sand staring down at the Praxian's faceplate. Watching his protoform and his plating start coming back to life as the bond between them heated up as well. Smokescreen was waking up, slowly. Shifting slightly Rider pulled to into a more upright position, careful of the doorwings drooping behind his back.

The first thing Smokescreen processed again was pain. A numb, throbbing kind of burn that started in his chest and radiated outward in every direction. He ached. All fraggin' over.

Not that that he hadn't thought he would, but damn. This hurt.

A slight whimper left him before he could stop it. Optics squeezing tightly shut even if he didn't have them open in the first place. His frame gave an annoyed quiver with the repression he was trying to do of the burning inside him, but he ignored it. He needed to convince his optics to open. He needed to know if he missed.

The swords were no longer screaming in his processor so that was an upside. Though he could feel the energon dripping down his fingers and the aching in his burned palms. He didn't need to look at them to know they were blistered, leaking, and probably kind of nasty looking. They certainly felt like they looked nasty.

As he slowly got his processor to stop informing him how many things he'd fried or broke this time he felt the hold that was around him. Strong and familiar, the same time a slight prodding at their link came from Outrider.

"Smokey?" He questioned softly, tone very obviously trying to gently pull Smokescreen back to the land of the processing without sending his frame into a panic from the pit he'd just put it through.

Groggily even in spark Smokescreen forced out a response. "Hey . . . Rider."

He could feel the sigh of relief that went through the huge mech. "You bastard, you scared the pit out of me."

If Smokescreen could have convinced his frame to laugh right then he would have, but considering he still hadn't managed to get his optics to open he settled for a fond pulse that didn't hurt too much between their sparks.

"Sorry." He managed. "They were really pissed off."

"Yeah. I noticed." Rider grumbled, a glance over to the still smoking blades that lay about an arms length from him. Even if he really just wanted to toss them into the fire burning over there he knew he couldn't. He also knew it wouldn't work.

Those blades didn't die so easily.

"You planning on looking not dead anytime soon?" Outrider questioned, looking back to the mech in his lap. "Prowl and Ratchet are kinda freaking out."

"Oh. Yeah. Prowl."

"Yeah. Prowl."

Smokey hadn't really meant to say that over the bond but well it wasn't like Rider didn't already know.

Sucking in a deep breath that made him shiver from the spikes of pain it made explode through him Smokescreen forced his optics to flutter open. Then immediately regretted the decision when the light of the fire behind the shadows over him made his head throb causing him snap them back shut, groan and roll in Rider's grip. The larger hunter let him twist to hide from the light until with another groan Smokescreen managed to get a good enough grip of himself to lever himself up. Winching he squinted toward what he thought was Prowl and gave a weak smile.

"Well I did tell you War was pretty convincing didn't I?"

A choking sound bubbled in Prowl's throat before he yanked Smokescreen out of Rider's lap and to his chest. It hurt, really it did, but Smokescreen let him. Biting back another groan he let Prowl squeeze him. Let the elder mech and the medic start checking him over and letting Ratchet start to try and fix the burns on his hands.

There wasn't much he would be able to do. They would heal faster then he would think. His whole frame would, it was part of how the swords worked. After all, it wouldn't do them much good to kill their host every time they threw a fit.

No.

He wouldn't die, but he sure did hurt. He would hurt for a while longer too but he could deal with it. This wasn't the first time they had laid him out this bad.

Which was what Rider was trying to tell Ratchet and Prowl as the black and white mech clung to him and Ratchet hissed about his injuries. They weren't listening to the larger hunter though so Smokescreen shoved himself back from Prowl's chest just enough to look up into those bright blue optics.

"Chill out, Prowler." He muttered, voice low and filled with static. "I'm fine."

"Fine!?" Prowl hissed, wanting to shake his stupid little brother but too afraid he'd hurt him. "You don't look fine!"

"I've had worse. Believe me." Smokey chuckled even if he knew the ways in which he'd been hurt worse than this would in no way make Prowl feel better. That was why he didn't bother to try and tell him. He simply pushed himself up right in his lap letting Ratchet have his way in patching up his hands and checking over his vitals. While he did that and Prowl's hands pet over his drooped doorwings and still slightly dim chevron Smokescreen cast his gaze around him.

Outrider had pushed himself back to his peds walking to Hide who stood a pace or two away holding what had to be the mechling against his chest where he couldn't see anything. Smokescreen didn't blame him for that. He didn't want to mechling seeing this anymore then the adopted sire to him probably did. Then he threw his gaze toward the burning ships narrowing his optics at the sight of Mayhem's ship burning alongside the one he had been trying not to hit.

Seemed he hadn't done a very good job, but another glance and he found Jazz had that stupid grey Praxian in his arms and was getting him to his feet. Optimus stood with them as well as the twins all of them looking various levels of pissed but Smokescreen couldn't help with that. He wasn't too interested in trying. He hurt and didn't really feel like getting up.

Turning his gaze back closer he found his still smoldering sword laying in the sand near him. He hadn't figured Rider would leave them laying anywhere. The bigger mech might hate them but he knew well they had saved their afts more than once.

That and he knew Wardrums would skin them both alive if they lost them. War didn't hand out his toys. Ever. It was a testament to just what the Knight thought of them that they hung from Smokescreen's hips at all. So while it was true he wasn't built to really use them they would defend him and that was all War had been after when he handed them over all those vorns ago.

With only one warning, that fighting what they wanted was unwise.

At the time Smokescreen had looked at him like he was crazy. Wondering how the pit swords could want anything. It wasn't very long however, before he had figured it out.

Those blades . . . well to say they had a mind of their own was a bit of an understatement. They were . . . alive. Smokescreen never understood how but they very much were.

"What the frag was that?" Ratchet biting out the question drew Smokescreen optics from the swords to find the medic leaning over him with worried and angry optics.

"Which part?" Smokescreen coughed once and then cleared his vocal processor and tried again. "There was a lot you could be asking about."

"Them!" Prowl snarled, pointing to the smoking blades laying in the sand. "Those are not swords! What the frag—"

"Actually they are swords." Smokey sighed, leaning back into his brothers chest trying to figure out the best way to keep Prowl's logic center from freaking out about swords being alive. So far he wasn't really coming up with anything good. "They're just . . . not normal."

"Not normal?" Ironhide rumbled. "Those things are a little more then not normal."

"That would be because their magical." Outrider rolled his optics in a huff drawing Hide's, Prowl's, and Ratchet's optics to him. "And yeah, that's pretty much the look I had to when he told me the first time. But it's true. You just saw it. The damn things are magical. And alive."

The mechs stared at him. Just stared at him.

Even when Optimus joined wearing the same look. Even when the twins blinked back at him. When Jazz crouched down next to Prowl and Bluestreak fell to his knees beside the black and white mech.

But really, how could they be blamed for it? It's not every orn somebot says a pair of swords are magic. Let alone that they were alive.

Shaking his head in disbelief Optimus walked to where the twin blades lay in the sand, kneeling down, and reaching for them only for Smokescreen to bolt upright and yell to stop him. He was two nanos too slow though and a bolt of hot, blue energy sparked off the blade Optimus reached for burning into his outstretched fingers.

Optimus yanked back with a yelp, the hot charge of left over energy racing through his fingers, up his arm and into his chest before he managed to get back from the flare of burning energy. Ratchet shoved himself to his feet again catching the towering commander before he could end up on his aft.

With startled optics Optimus turned his gaze to Smokescreen who sighed, shaking his head.

"I tried to tell you." He shrugged. "They won't let you touch them. Only me and Rider can touch them. We're the only ones War coded them to outside of himself and Dust."

At that Rider left his brother's side. Strolling over in front of the Prime, bending down, scooping up the blades, shrugged, and took them to Smokescreen. Prowl's optics narrowed at them, but he did nothing to stop Rider from handing them over. Even if Smokescreen's hands were still too burnt to hold them.

He simply laid them in his lap, feeling them pulse happy with the accomplishment of Mayhem's death. Well at least they were appeased now. They'd be easier to manage.

"You had better start explaining." Prowl told him, their optics meeting as he gazed down at him before the turned his optics to Bluestreak. "And you better do the same."

Blue gave a nervous chuckle and Smokey rolled his optics.

All of it being laid out before them didn't take as long to explain as Smokescreen figured it would. There wasn't much to tell on their end. Wardrums for all his secrets wasn't all that much of a complicated mech once the chance that he was telling the truth about being a Knight stopped being ridiculous and a bot started taking it seriously.

After that pretty anything was fair game.

He was a thing of legend which meant he could do pretty much anything he wanted and it not be too far-fetched. His magical swords that were living . . . sort of. That hadn't been that easy to explain because Smokescreen didn't actually get it either. All he knew was they could talk into his processor. That they used his spark energy to power themselves. That they were temperamental bastards that annoyed him more than anything else but he had to admit they were damn useful. They had also saved both him and Rider more times than he could count so it was kind of hard to hate them.

The upside of the explanation was that Prowl didn't glitch. His optics twitched a whole pit of a lot, but he didn't glitch. Smokey was counting that as a victory, or at least close enough.

Bluestreak's explanation however did not go anywhere near as smooth. Rider and Smokey had simply sat back and stared at him as he tried to get a word in edge wise around all the yelling Prowl and Ratchet were doing at him, but what eventually came to be was the gunner lowering his head and mumbled out.

"It felt wrong."

Prowl had stared at him for a long time with that and he went on.

"After you left. In my spark. Something just . . . felt wrong. I had to go, Prowl. Something said I had to follow. I know I shouldn't have but look I—"

"Enough Blue," Optimus finally let the young sniper out of his explanation with a sigh. "If you hadn't of shown up I've no idea what we would have done. You did the right thing. I wish you would have commed somebot and told them you were doing it, but still you did the right thing."

"If I'd have called Prowl he'd have said no. If I'd have told Elita she'd had tied me up in my room."

"That's probably true." Jazz couldn't help but chuckle.

So the explanations of magic swords and foolish snipers came to an end without too much shouting, but more than anything it ended because of Bumblebee. The tiny mechling had stayed silent, curled against Hide's chest while all the talking was done. Hide's fingers petting over his antennas and doorwings. The bond between them pulsing brightly with the guardian attempting to keep the mechling calm while it all went on. He knew he couldn't keep the mechling distracted from the carnage for long though.

A dead hunter, blown up ships, and all the rest of it had rattled Bumblebee and he had a right for it to effect him that way. But when those watery blue optics tilted up to him he knew it had all bubbled to a head. There was only so much a youngling his age could take.

He'd been quiet far longer then he should have had to be. But that didn't stop Ironhide from swallowing hard and sighing when the confused and teary question came.

"Hide." He whined.

The ebony mech turned his dark optics down to the little thing hanging by the groves of his armor staring up at his faceplate.

"Can go home now?" Hide spark clenched at the watery words. "Me wanna go home now."

"No Bee," He shook his head slightly, pulling the mechling up so that he could burrow into the thick cables of his neck. "No we can't go home yet."

"Why?" Bee sniffled, snuggling and holding on. The other mechs went quiet at the confused, scared sounds. Sparks clenching and growing cold at the fear that this time there was nothing they could do to change. Not even Ironhide could do much for this one.

He could only hold the mechling close in both his spark and his hands letting him cry out his confusion. There was nothing else he could do. Because no matter if he wanted nothing more than to turn around and take his mechling home it would solve nothing. The bounty had to be stopped or more to this would keep happening. No matter if it was hard for Ironhide to admit or not it was the truth to say he couldn't stop everything.

One way or another some shadow was going to sneak in and they were going to show far less concern for his well being then Rider or Smokey had.

Under it all though was something else. Something he really didn't want to admit to but was starting to have to. The fact that part of all this was him wanting a piece of this Wardrums.

Hidden away in the hollowed out crevasses of wind and rain among what was left of the stone pillars two sets of burning red stared out over the horizon to the inferno that was slowly dying in the morning light. No matter that the smaller of the mechs had wanted to fly out there and find out what was happening the thick, strong, large claws of his mate wrapped around his arm stopped him.

Even if it made Vortex turned around and glare through his visor.

"Why not?" He snapped up to the towering form of the purple and black shuttle crouched down beside him in the darkness of their hiding place.

"We're only suppose to be watching." Blastoff rumbled out, his deep baritone even in a whisper enough to shake the hanging stalactites over their heads. "Nothing else, Vortex."

"Ah but, Blastoff."

"Ah Blastoff nothing." The shuttleformer growled. "Do you really think you can take on the Prime? Are you that conceded?"

The grey and brown helicopter huffed. "No, but you could."

Rolling his optics Blastoff shook his head, leaning back against the cold wall behind him. Staring out into the growing morning light. "Soundwave said under no circumstances are we to engage. We are only supposed to be watching. He wanted to know if those mechs were with them."

Reaching into subspace with a flick of his claws Vortex pulled out the datapad Soundwave had given them. Powering it up and letting the image capture flicker to life on the screen. Why it was so important about a tri colored Praxian and an over grown red and black mech being with the Autobots the 'copter didn't know. Nor did he really care. All he cared about was one thing; this mission was boring.

They didn't even get to kill anything. Couldn't even pick a fight.

Because no, they were just suppose to be watching.

Vortex wanted to punch something.

"But why?" He whined, glaring out into the rising morning on the desert. "We saw them. They're there. And the Prime brought half his command staff to the freaking middle of nowhere! Along with the youngling! We should be blowing them all up!"

Blastoff rolled his optics behind his own dark visor. "Do not underestimate those mechs, Vortex. If they were not skilled we would not still be fighting this war."

"We're only still fighting this war because blasted Megatron went nuts."

Blastoff suddenly rocked up right snarling down at the smaller mech that only came to the flat panels of the shuttle's abdomen even when the smaller stood on the tips of his toes. "Watch your tongue!"

Vortex snorted at him. "Why? What does it matter?" Throwing his arms up around the empty cave around him he laughed. "Who's gonna here me? Besides that, who's gonna take me seriously!? You know I'm right but I'm a joke to all the rest of them, Blastoff! They all think I'm a fraggin' mental case!"

"You are a fraggin' mental case." Blastoff sighed, but behind his visor his optics were growing sad.

"WELL YOU BONDED WITH ME SO WHO'S THE BIGGER MENTAL CASE!" The helicopter screamed, rotor blades flaring out in jagged spikes behind him. "And we can't even act like it!"

Blastoff flinched at that one.

"We can't—" Vortex cut off, spinning around and crossing his arms around himself in a youngling type manner of trying to hug himself. Squeezing his optics shut and trying to count his breaths in the way he had learned . . . in the way Blastoff had taught him, to calm down.

His rotors gave another few unhappy flinches as the hard vent of Blastoff's sigh washed down over them in steamy air but Vortex ignored him. Even when the towering mech crouched down onto his knees behind him to put them as close to optic to optic as they could get.

"Vortex." Blastoff's tone was a quiet call even if he was looking down at the mech right in front of him. The thick grey and brown armor that made up the helicopter tensed, his rotor blades flaring apart and then yanking back together, but he did not turn around.

Blastoff let out a sigh. Reaching out he softly run the tips of his claws down the plastered together rotors. As he figured they flared angrily, yanking away as Vortex hissed, but as soon as they reacted they stopped as the hissing came to an end. He might be angry but the overly touchy 'copter would never turn down a touch. Not when so often they had to pretend they cared little more for each other then the gestalt link that had been forced upon them by Starscream.

The hid their secret well.

Not even their gestalt partners knew they were bonded. However, Blastoff suspected that Onslaught might have guessed. He was the gestalt alpha after all and his link between them could read more than any of them would have liked, but he never said anything. Why, Blastoff didn't know and he tried not to worry about it.

As long as Starscream or Megatron didn't learn of it they were relatively safe. The trouble was though there was one mech still among their fraction that knew. Then again, that had never surprised Blastoff.

Soundwave knew everything.

Everything.

There were no secrets to him. Nothing hidden.

He knew it all.

And yet . . . he did not rat them out.

Sure he'd blackmailed them before, just as he was doing now, but the loyal shadow at Megatron's side had never told him that there were bonded among his warriors. A crime that these orns was punishable by death.

Megatron didn't want anything between his soldiers that could make their undying loyalty to him come second. And a sparkbond was fully capable of doing that. That was why after Knockout and Breakdown disappeared Megatron had outlawed bonding among the ranks.

Forever.

And to get his point across he'd killed any pairs he already knew about.

Blastoff remembered that orn well. Remembered watching Astrotrain and Comet get murdered. Watching Sunstorm, Bitstream, and Hotlink get slaughtered. Nova Storm and Ion Storm. Dead End and Dragstrip.

And many more.

He killed them all. Just because of the sparkbonds they had made. Because they loved somebot.

Because they became a liability.

If Knockout and Breakdown could leave he thought any pair would leave. So he stopped them before they could. Killed them all for no reason what so ever.

Blastoff would never know for sure but he was almost certain that had been the last straw for Thundercracker. That when he was forced to watch three mechs he'd known in Vos, had fought beside, had risked his life beside get murdered because their trine was different than just a political link he was done. That was when the proud seeker had decided to take the one forced brother he had that was the punching bag of half the fraction just because he was different, turn his back on this insanity, and never come back.

Without even saying goodbye.

Thundercracker had known about Vortex and Blastoff. TC had been Blastoff's only real friend outside of his mate. The big blue seeker having tried to help them after Starscream threw a fit about something they didn't even know and ordered bots that didn't even know each other to be forced into becoming combiners. Thundercracker had said it was wrong what he did, tried to stop the mech he had been trined to with no say either, but there was nothing he could do to stop the head of his trine.

However, that had not stopped the mech from helping them when they woke back up as something they never wanted to be. It was in his helping them that he figured out Vortex and Blastoff were already bonded.

It had terrified Vortex and Blastoff had actually wondered in that moment how much trouble he'd get in if he killed the SIC's trine brother, but Thundercracker had proved their fears wrong. He'd simply stared at them for a long time before turning and walking away.

And he'd never mentioned it. Not once. Even when they got the seeker alone and questioned him about it. The only thing he'd said was that he and no one else had any business knowing what they chose to do with their sparks. That their sparks were their's and they deserved to be able to do with them what they pleased.

That was the orn Blastoff and Vortex found themselves having a friend.

After that the mechs had helped each other as the war raged on all those vorns ago. They had helped TC look after Skywarp as best they could. Trying to keep the mech the fraction called crazier then Vortex out of trouble. It worked out pretty well too. Vortex and Skywarp got along rather well. They had a similar strange sense of humor and while Vortex had far more of a mean streak then the seeker did it was the helicopter's mean streak and his reputation that had suddenly made quite a few back off from torturing the messed up mech they took out their hatred of Starscream on.

Then, everything had changed.

Skywarp had almost been killed and even more of his tentative grip on reality was destroyed, Knockout and Breakdown disappeared, Megatron ordered the slaughter of all the bonded bots in the faction, and like smoke TC took Skywarp and vanished.

Blastoff and Vortex survived the slaughter of the bonded bots only because the only two they had thought knew their secret was Thundercracker and possibly Onslaught.

Thundercracker had been their friend, and had never liked the fraction he stood with let alone Megatron.

And Onslaught, well if he'd have told and they'd have been killed he along with Swindle and Brawl would have died as well.

So they got out alive because they had always kept quiet about what they were, and because Megatron didn't care anything for the combiners in the first place.

Then, one night, Soundwave had come calling with a threat and a proposition. One they couldn't have argued even if they had tried. He would keep their secret if they did certain things for him . . . off the record.

Why he'd done it to this orn Blastoff didn't know. He hadn't allowed himself to question it. He just made sure Vortex and himself never messed up. They couldn't afford to. He would not watch his mate die and he had no plans on going to pit anytime soon so Soundwave would just have to be appeased.

Even if they hated it.

All of it.

The question between them had risen now and again, especially after Thundercracker and Skywarp disappeared, why were they still hear? Why did they bother to stay?

"I hate it." Vortex whispered, his voice still hard but he leaned back into the shuttle's touch all the same.

Blastoff couldn't think of a good enough response so he stayed silent, petting at the helicopter's blades lightly and sending a warm pulse through their bond.

Blinking tired optics toward the horizon Bumblebee sat in Hide's palm curled against his throat while the massive ebony mech stood staring out at the expansive landscape around them. Bee had never seen anything like it, and his sniffling for home that had gone on last night ended once the sun rose and he got a look at what lay before them.

He had never seen so much . . . much.

In the early morning light it was hard to tell where the sky ended and the endless red sand began. Staring out at the openness with wide blue optics he flicked his antennas back and forth letting out a curious chirp that drew Ironhide's deep optics to him.

"What that?" Bee chirped.

Hide snorted with a soft smile as he looked out over the never ending desert. "That, Bee, is the Sea of Rust."

"Sea of Rust." He mimicked, tongue tripping over it just a bit. Jazz and Sides chuckled at the sound.

Bumblebee was positive he'd heard Jazz talk about this place before, but he'd never imaged what it might actually be like. Now that he saw it he realized his imagination paled in comparison.

"Cool."

Rider huffed a laugh, shaking his head but there was a fondness in his optics as he stood beside his brother looking over at the little mechling burrowed in against his neck. Smokescreen stood on his other side. Prowl had stuck close to him even when they finally went to recharge last night. Keeping Bluestreak within reaching distance at all times as well. The problem now though, was they had reached the end of how far they could go together.

From here on out Outrider and Smokescreen had to take the mechling on their own.

Ironhide and Prowl—while they had known all along—weren't happy about that. However, they were going to have to get over it. It was how the plan had been laid out. They got in and hopefully got out again without needing their help, but the others would just be a comm call away with backup.

The next hardest part Rider was worried about was not getting Prowl and Hide to let them go. It was how they were going to convince the mechling to let go of his sire and come with them into the unknown.

For the most part Rider was pretty sure the mechling liked them, but liking them and trusting them to take him away from his family were two very different things all together.

"What gonna do now?" Bee asked, glancing around at the members of his family that stood gazing out into the growing morning over the desert.

"Well Lil' Bee," Jazz drawled. "Got a surprise for ya."

"Jazz," Ironhide's baritone warned.

Jazz rolled his optics behind his visors and went on anyway as Bee perked up.

"Surprise?"

"Yep." Jazz nodded. "Your gonna go on a little walk with Rider and Smokey."

Smokescreen and Outrider both leaned around Hide's bulk to stare at the silver mech with raised optics ridges. Though if they had to admit it, for a youngling, that might be a good enough way to explain it.

"Really?" Bumblebee tilted his head. "Why? Where you gonna go?"

"We'll be right behind ya." Jazz smiled at him, but there was a dimness in his optics he couldn't hide from the mechling. Not when Bee knew so well how to reach out and feel with his spark. They were uneasy with something.

All of them.

They weren't happy about this, but Bee didn't know why. If they weren't happy about it why were they doing it?

And why couldn't they go together?

"So Pip Squeak," Outrider's rolling tone drew Bumblebee's bright optics to the bulky hunter and he could help but smile at the raised optic ridge over those cobalt blue optics and the teasing smile. "Wanna go someplace with me and Smokey?"

Antennas flicking back and forth for a nano or two while he gazed back at Ironhide's little brother Bee eventually flicked his doorwings and winglets giving a positive chirp. Ironhide chuckled at the high sound before he pulled Bee up to place a firm kiss between his antennas.

Bee gave a loud purr before wiggling around and placing his own kiss to the end of Hide's nose making Rider cackle over to the side. Sunstreaker smacked him over the back of the head and Sideswipe started giggling at the glare the red and black hunter gave the frontliner.

Ironhide ignored them in favor of staring down at those big, bright optics staring up at him. "Bee," He told him quietly. "I need you to do something for me, alright?"

"Okay." Bee chirped.

"I need you to mind whatever Rider and Smokey tell you to do, okay? Whatever they tell you to do. If they tell you to be quiet, you be quiet. If they tell you to hide someplace, you hide. If they tell you to wait somewhere and not move you do it. If they tell you go with somebot you go with somebot. Do whatever they say, mechling. Okay?"

There was an urgency in Ironhide's voice that Bumblebee wasn't sure he actually understood. Something deep within those dark optics that didn't want to be seen but couldn't help but be noticed.

Bumblebee wasn't sure what to make of it. He wasn't even sure he was suppose to see it. Chances were he wasn't, but then he didn't know why. But he did understand that when Hide took tones like that he was worried and that he was trying to keep him safe. So even if he wasn't quite sure what the make of it the little yellow mechling nodded, chewing on his bottom lip, before chirping another positive.

"Okay."

Outrider stood there at his brother's side looking hard into those worried blue optic before he keyed up a comm channel and pinged him. Ironhide startled slightly at the sound. As if that was the last thing he was expecting before he turned his optics to the deeper shade of cobalt.

With a small smile curving the corner of his lips Rider told him. "I'll keep him safe, Hide. I'm not gonna let anything happen to him."

Ironhide stared back at him, optics dimming before he whispered over the radio waves. "I know, Rider, it's just . . . I can't lose another sparkling. I . . . . He's the world to me. He's the world to Mia and me—"

"And all the rest of you to." Rider whispered. "I know. That's why I'm gonna get the bounty off his head and I'm going to bring him back to you then we're gonna bomb the Rings off the face of the planet. I'm not gonna let him get hurt."

"I'm more worried about this Wardrums."

Rider couldn't help but snort. "You'd be a fool if you weren't, but I know him. I know what him and Dust really think about the two of us. I don't know why he didn't tell us about Mercy or the sparkling she had, but I'm going to find out and I'm gonna make sure he gets a fraggin' audio full for it. But when I'm done I'm bringing him back to you. Mercy birthed him he was her sparkling, but he's yours and Mia's sparkling now. He deserves a family and I'm not going to let it be taken away from him."

"You better come back." Hide's inner voice hardened. "All of you. You better all come back home. I can't lose you again either, Rider."

"You're not gonna have to." He smiled. "We're coming back."

It was with that promise, a few bright words to confused young optics, a tuck into Rider's spark vault, and a wave over their shoulders that Smokescreen and Outrider headed out into the shifting sands of the Sea of Rust. Leaving Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, Prowl, Jazz, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Bluestreak standing there among the fallen pillars of stone watching until the sun rising on the horizon took them out of sight.

Now . . . now there was nothing for them to do but wait. Wait while Smokescreen and Outrider headed straight into the gates of a pit itself with a mechling hidden away in a vault.

Hope you guys liked it. It's sorta been a rough couple of days and this chapter fought with me, but I wanted you have something. So here you go.

See you all next time.

-Jaycee

P.S. I'm doing a shorts prompt challenge on the blog. Just in case some of you didn't know. I'm leaving it open for a few more days (I'm behind) But I am working on them.