Ok, so here's the situation:

I have been given a generous correction via inbox by -who shall not be named- concerning my Cybertronian anatomy

So to clear things up:

Sole pads=Peds

Hands=Servos

Helmet=Helm

Terminal links=Digits

Repcycle=The time of a sparkling's development -this one comes later on-

However, my bond-connections will go as such:

Bond= A bond can be achieved three ways (as far as knowledge goes for me and/or Cybertronian data), by a sparkbond, a siblingbond, or a sparklingbond

BUT

A Cybertronian may have a 'link' with comrades as a means of solely sharing thoughts and/or feelings between the connected. A link has (and probably will again -sorry! :/-) been said in my earlier chapters as a moment of dual emotions experienced by both parties of the bonded and peer status. A 'link' in this case is basically just a form of describing the connections between the bonded or a being to their comrade(s). I kinda have my more 'original' descriptions in there as well, mainly so I could have my own path from the usual pieces found around the fandom universe :) But I have a list of everything that I use as reference if anyone would like me to post that before each chapter, including body parts, programs, and time.

I'm sorry if I'm not really up-to-date on my terminology, but I'm kinda new to both the Fanfiction-writing world and to fully comprehending the Cybertronian body/frame. I'm sorry if I mess up on something, but please feel free to contact me if you see something wrong! All suggestions are welcomed!

Of The Spark And Heart

Part 1

Chapter 11

The room had grown strangely still. The noses died almost as quickly as they had started. Fera blinked her heavy eyelids and she slowly lifted her head. Rethalia looked up from her spot as well, pausing before cautiously moving back towards Sol. She hovered a protective hand over Fera and her mother, as if she planned on protecting them from whatever lay on the other side. There was a brief series of a few more shots and another rumbling, and then it all stopped. Just like that. Silent. Fera stared hard at the door, shoving her feet at the table beneath her so she could get up in a squatted position. Her mother was also watching the door, lifting a hand to grab Fera's arm.

Quiet. More deadly stillness. And then footsteps.

They were hurried, blending unrhythmically as more than one figure thudded down the hall. Hound couldn't be heard, but the steps were definitely not human. Was he too shot down? Was he dead? Fera's blood went cold and her face became a stoney mask. Rethalia curled a fist before her and Fera stole a quick glance towards the fembot. Despite her smaller size, Fera knew she wasn't Prime without a reason. For once, she felt safe behind a towering 'Bot. She was just glad that Rethalia was on their side.

"Get them in the rooms now!" it was an older sounding voice, rough around the edges. Ratchet. Fera nearly fell back in relief. Rethalia's hand lowered and she waited. There was the sound of opening doors and rushed footfalls as he moved about. The door suddenly hissed open and the yellowish-green mech appeared inside the doorway. The armor on one shoulder was missing, blue energon spilt across small areas of his chest and limbs.

"Rethalia we-" he stopped immediately in seeing the body on the table. "Primus, what happened?!" he demanded, rushing into the room. Rethalia quickly stepped out of the way, giving him room. "I was not there, Ratchet, I can't tell you that."

Ratchet growled and began to go to work quickly and skillfully, opening different panels and shifting Sol's plates so that he could reach the damaged areas. "Sol was protecting us." Fera found her voice and she stood, using Sol's body for support. Ratchet cast a darting look her way and then he grabbed the tool cart Rethalia had been leaning against.

"From an atomic bomb?! From the looks of his busted pipes and shorted circuits, I'd say he was blown from the inside out!" Ratchet exclaimed, peeling away damaged parts and then welding new seals. The metal melded together and formed a thick bond.

"His spark is fading- Rethalia, please bring me the extra sparkpump, the one he has now isn't giving him more than 10 percent." Ratchet directed. Rethalia moved away and came back with the extra piece, handing it to Ratchet. "This should get him stabilized for now." he came to a more calm pace, "Rethalia, what you did may have very well saved his life." he stated, standing. Rethalia gave a respectful nod and backed up slightly so Ratchet could have more room. "It is my duty to help those in need. And beside that, he is a Guardian Ratchet. There was no choice." she responded. Ratchet just went about his work, seeming not to hear her.

Fera sank back to her spot sitting beside Sol, her heart feeling lighter. He was going to make it. He was going to be ok.

The thought nearly caused a grin to cross her face.

Optimus gently let Sideswipe slip from his arms and onto the berth, the smaller mech's arm leaving his neck. Sideswipe sported a blasted kneebolt, the covering blown apart. The sensitive wires around the area sparked and bright energon flowed from the wound. He also held other, smaller wounds over his body "Thanks Optimus." he said appreciatively. Optimus nodded and moved back to allow Ratchet to tend to the wounded when he saw fit. Smaller human men ran around below him as he entered the hall, bringing the wounded through to their own medical rooms. That was one thing Optimus saw good in the humans; they were very loyal and kept a notable sense to help the needy.

He moved through the concrete hall and paused to allow Hound to support Wheeljack on one arm. The white mech held his hand over his tank cavity, an oddly accomplished look on his faceplates. He had successfully been able to override the system and close off the east wing, shutting the Decepticons off from advancing through the doors. This led them to go for the breaks in the walls, but those were soon covered by four Autobot warriors, including the leader himself. Along with a stumbling Skywarp, they retreated outside the hole they had come. Bumblebee had shot after them, standing over Sideswipe's fallen form as a sort of protective measure. Optimus had called off the smaller scout and had picked up Sideswipe since the mech appeared unable to stand on his own.

And off to the medbay they'd went, stepping over the mangled bodies of fellow Cybertronians. Brothers. All of them were of his own kind... the thought made his tanks churn and he had to avert his optics to keep from feeling that callused grief. So many were dead, all of them fellow brethren. There was even the human soldiers who crawled or ran or hurried over the floor to get to each other that disturbed him. Ratchet carefully walked beside Optimus, scanning the bodies for any survivors. This was the gruesomeness of being a medic, Optimus assumed; just scanning for the half dead so that could emit a mercy shot and end the suffering. Only one had this treatment however, adding to the many whom litter the grounds now.

Now, his most important concern was finding his sparkmate. She had been unable to hide her fear and her concern over their bond, resulting in the often distraction of the Prime. He could sense Liora as well, healthy and safe. But, now all he could manage to feel was the limited connection they all three shared. He lifted a servo and set it on his chassis, looking down the hall to the last door.

"Get them into the rooms now!" Ratchet commanded loudly. Optimus felt his only good audio receptor shake with the tone of the medic and then it rang with the sound of yet another unlucky 'Bot on the wrong end of Ratchet's wrath. "Optimus, you too." Ratchet directed sternly.

Optimus looked down at the shorter mech, dropping the servo. "Where is Rethalia?" he asked, completely ignoring Ratchet's prior comment. "In the last room, why?" he questioned suspiciously. "I wish to meet with her." the Prime answered simply. As if it were obvious. Ratchet snorted and drew a quick scan over Optimus' body. "Over my deadspark!" he cried, promptly stabbing a finger towards an empty room. "Your ventilation filter is crushed along with the spring in your lower left chassis. Your left audio receptor is busted and your kneebolt is ready to give any nanoclick. If you don't want a mangled leg Optimus Prime, I suggest you heed my direction." Ratchet was a good mech, direct when he needed be, and gentle when required. He was also one of Optimus' eldest friends, meaning he could sense when the medic was about to snap.

Alone and without a proper medical aid, Ratchet was left to take care of every mech by himself. His fairly young and new apprentice Cloudsong was back at the base in Washington D.C, awaiting the return of her peer.

"Ratchet, I-" he was cut off when Ratchet held up a blunt tool in his servo, waving it around in a small circle almost threateningly. "Your sparkmate can wait Optimus. As your medic, and a friend, I don't advise anything but getting quick attention." he noted. Knowing anything he said would be quickly put to rest by the stubborn mech, Optimus nodded and turned towards the appointed room, lifting a servo to cup a gash in his forearm. Ratchet could be heard walking the opposite direction, towards the back rooms. He was right, and now that Optimus had listened, he could feel the searing pain from his kneebolt and the array of other wounds around his frame.

But that wouldn't keep him from whipping around as the door to one of the medical rooms opened and Ratchet's voice carried down the hall. "Primus, what happened!?" he exclaimed. Optimus quickly turned on his peds and strode down the hall, ignoring the creaking and groaning of his weary armor. He reached for his sparkmate, but he only got a blocked link. Frustration climbed in his spark and he let steaming hot air pulse from his vents. Suddenly, his kneebolt gave out and he growled in the pain, falling against the wall. His arm came up and supported him as he fought for balance.

"Optimus, are you ok?" one of the humans called from below.

It was an unfamiliar troop, stopped dead on the floor and looking to the towering Autobot concernedly. Optimus slowly pushed off the wall and he nodded, holding up his leg and only allowing his toelink to sit on the ground for balance. "Your concerns shouldn't be with me soldier. Focus on your fallen comrades." he ordered, shuttering his optics. The young male nodded briskly, running away without another word.

"-spark is fading-" Ratchet's muffled voice came from the other side of the door and Optimus' cranial unit snapped up. Absolute dread filled inside of him, humming in his spark with painful waves.

Rethalia. Liora. Optimus shoved himself forward, ignoring his weakened kneebolt and starting down the hall again. Desperately he reached through their link, but all he got in response was a blocked bond. His tanks churned and his CPU raced. One arm was against the wall to help him as he stepped slowly across the floor, moving down towards the door in worry. She was there. She had to be. His spark wouldn't survive if hers were to perish. And he felt he didn't want to go on anyway if that were to happen. That family unit was all of himself and his very essence, everything he possessed and could give. Without them...he wouldn't allow himself to even compute what that would be like.

Finally reaching the room, he threw himself across the walls, falling roughly on the opposing wall. The door slid open at his approach and he stumbled inside, searching the room desperately.

"Rethalia!" he called out.

Ratchet was by the observations berth, tending to the still form of a Cybertronian. Fera and her female creator Sarah Lennox were seated by their side. The slim and graceful form of Rethalia Prime stood off to Ratchet's side, standing back patiently. She turned swiftly at his call, her optics wide. The wall she had put up came crashing down, flooding him with relieving surprise and concern. "Optimus? Are you alright?" her smooth voice rinsed over him and he sagged in the sound of it.

His form gave out and he slid down the doorframe, sitting on the floor. The kneebolt that had given out was basically useless now, giving him no support. Tiredness and weary heaviness weighed on him and Optimus vented when seeing his sparkmate alive and well. She hurried to his side, dropping to her kneebolts. The sky-blue color of her optics darkened as she looked over his pained expression and scrapped helm. Her lithe digits came up and she softly grabbed his faceplates. "What came over you to force yourself here? That was completely senseless of you!" she scolded. Optimus grinned, ignoring the waves of pain and numbness below his kneebolt.

"I was worried for you Rethalia. Why had you blocked our bond?" he inquired softly. Rethalia's optics shuttered and she drew close, holding his cranial unit to the base of her neck. The warm humming from her systems soothed his cranialache and lulled him. "Your safety was at stake, I couldn't offer you distraction." she explained gently, rubbing her thumb digit over his busted audio receptor. The gentle strokes of the small digit sent his CPU into a soothing tranquility. She was here. She was alive. "Our bond is all I think of in battle otherwise." he stated, bringing up his servo to lay over her own. She sighed and leaned back, searching his faceplates.

"Whether I be in battle or on another planet, you always seem to find me." she murmured, grinning sadly. Optimus grinned as well, slipping his digits through hers. "It is because you are everything to me Rethalia. No matter what, you are my very spark." his vocal processor was just above a whisper, their exchange meant only for them. "Primus, Optimus! I don't have the time for this!" Ratchet yelled from across the room. Both Optimus and Rethalia looked back at him. Ratchet was stretched as far as his arms would allow, one servo-deep in a black and red chassis while the other was aimed for a distant tool cart.

So Sol had been the one injured.

Rethalia squeezed Optimus' hand and she started for Ratchet, handing him the tool he was after. "Glitchin' support strut... severed coil wire... Frag! His main spinal relay is clipped!" the flustered mech hurried over Sol's body as he constantly found himself removing and replacing small parts. Rethalia kept handing him different tools and eventually when he seemed fully stocked with every equipment piece he would need, Rethalia moved back towards her sparkmate. "I'm not certified with larger grade injuries, but I can mend a few of your smaller wounds." she explained gently, kneeling down again. Optimus nodded and didn't hesitate to open his chassis plates.

His sparkmate reached in and he felt the dull brushes and dips of every move. Wiring buzzed and his CPU scanned the intruder before his spark registered her, suddenly rejoicing in her close presence. Her small digit bumped into one of his more sensitive wires and he drew in a sharp intake of air through his vents. Rethalia backed off, yanking her servos away as she felt his sudden pain. "I'm sorry." she murmured in apprehension. Optimus shook his helm and took her servo in his, lifting it up himself to bring it close again. "It is alright." he assured her.

Rethalia moved back to her work, slower this time. Her hand came close to his spark at one point and his frame shuddered slightly. He hoped she wouldn't notice, but then a small smile crossed her lip plates and she did it again. Lowly, his processor made a noise that he thought he'd long been unable to make. Both of their faceplates shifted in shock and Optimus made an action to hide the noise by clearing his vocal tube. Rethalia gave a soft chuckle at his attempts and she reached deeper into his chassis to collect a few singed or melted wiring.

"I should do this more often." she noted in a suggestive, dark tone. Optimus' form started, his gears jumping.

She just laughed at his surprise and laid the broken and useless pieces to the side. "Don't move Prime, or this will hurt a lot more than it need be." she warned. Just as he was about to question her confusing statement, he felt a painful lurch in his inner circuit grid as one of the attached lines were wrenched from the plug. He locked his oral sheets together and held back the cry he felt rising. His vents whirred and his CPU jumped with the sudden feeling. The slender wire she had pulled was dropped as she hovered in concern over his inclined body. Before his oral plates busted -again, but that was a different story-, Optimus let them unclench and that allowed the muffled, soft moan to escape his vocals.

The air suddenly met with a series of small, high-pitched grindings from a surgical saw, meaning Ratchet must be operating. But that could only signify that Sol's wounds far surpassed his own. It sent a deep unadulterated sense of worry through his systems. He was only just experiencing his life cycle, meeting the new-found wonders of what Earth had to offer. Optimus darted his optics in the small mech's position and he found the tiny human Fera standing to crane her neck over Sol's body. She just bled worry and curiosity, surprising Optimus with the depth of her concern.

"Don't worry about Solas, he will be fine. We got to him in time, and Ratchet is only replacing a few minor parts." Rethalia had noticed her sparkmate's direction of his optics and she leaned down to help him to sit again.

"I had entrusted Fera and her female creator to him. Are they alright?" he wondered, shifting to get more comfortable. Rethalia grinned softly and started working on sealing the gash on his arm. "Of course. Solas is a very capable Guardian, even if he's injured." she gave a short chuckle and Optimus looked down at her. He had a good 6 feet on the fembot, meaning he had to either slouch or she would have to stand on her kneebolts to reach his chassis comfortably. Her scorcher started up and she paused. "I have a few painkillers if-"

"No, I have dealt with worse. Continue." he said. Giving a nod, Rethalia leaned into the wound and pressed the bright flame to his armor.

A wince crossed his faceplates as the stinging and burning started up. The metal around the wound heated up and began to melt into bright orange goop. Rethalia set down the scorcher and stood, turning to search the nearby tool carts. It wasn't long before she found what she was after, returning soon after she left. It was a flat piece of scrap, a temporary seal until Ratchet could get a hold of him. She pressed it firmly against the liquefied material and sat back on her heals, laying her delicate servos over her lap. "That should harden in a few joors. Before then, I think it would be best if we waited for Ratchet to look at your more serious wounds." she noted. Optimus nodded, holding the newly applied piece in the open so it could harden.

"That mech's still here?" Ratchet questioned from his spot beside Sol. Rethalia twisted her spinal support so she could see Ratchet behind her and Optimus looked over her. "I though I told you to wait in the room." he had a large rag in his grasp, rubbing it between his servos. "You'd better hope I don't get my hands on a moderately sized wrench, or your kneejoint's not going to be the only thing I'm fixing." he threatened lightly, setting a servo on his hipbolt. Optimus heeded his friend's warning, allowing his mate to help him stand. She wasn't strong enough to support his weight like he needed, so he used the doorframe as well. "And I don't doubt you will Ratchet." he managed, draping an arm over Rethalia's shoulderbolts.

Ratchet huffed and crossed his arms, seeming satisfied with himself. "However, I must ask you before I leave," he began, catching the medic's attention. "if Solas Kaon will recover from his wounds?"

Ratchet's lip plates burrowed into a deep frown. He seemed to hesitate at answering this, standing in study of his leader. But then he shifted on his peds, looking to the ground and back. "If I tell you what you want to hear, I'd be lying Prime." he admitted, his tone hard and grave. Optimus' very energon ran cold and he felt his form tense against his mate's smaller frame.

Once again, Ratchet took pause and he looked behind him. Fera could be seen, sitting atop one of Sol's plates on his leg. She had one tiny hand on his body while the other sat on her lap, her face aimed towards the table. After a few nanoclicks, he found that she was deep in the human recharge cycle called 'sleep'. Her female creator however was standing nearby, her arms crossed and her eyes watching them intently. "We don't need lies Ratchet, we need answers." Optimus said firmly, peering back from the female human. The medic nodded and turned his support on his patient. The steady beep of the pulse monitor registered over and over, beating barely below normal. Almost all of the young mech's armoring had been stripped from him, placed aside so that the pieces could be fixed later.

"What Rethalia did may very well have saved his life. But, and I'm going to be blunt about this, he still isn't out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot." Ratchet went on. Rethalia's digits tightened around Optimus' and he did the same with hers. He felt her worry; her remembrance of her fallen friends... "But how is his spark? Will he be permanently damaged?" she asked, seemingly trying to distract herself. Ratchet drummed his digits against his upper arm, the greenish-yellow plating still freckled with fresh and dry energon. "At the moment, I've halted the main leak in his circuits. However, his casing retained some major damage and his conversion shaft is completely snapped in half. He may never be able to transform. And that's if he survives the casing transplant and replacement of his spinal relay program and cord." he explained almost sadly.

It was a medic's job to never become attached to patients. But as Optimus knew, this rule had gone out the window the decacycles after Ratchet had become a permanent member of his team. Now, even if he was a rookie, Sol was a member of that team, meaning Ratchet held some sort of bond with the younger mech. Sol was just upgraded to his final frame before trekking to Earth, meaning he wasn't more than a few thousand decacycles old. Barely out of the teenage stage in human terms. In fact, it was predicted that Sol was one of the last sparklings before Bumblebee was created. Optimus raised a servo and set it higher on the doorframe. "Just do whatever you can. For now, we can only hope." he stated. Ratchet nodded once and turned back to Sol, not even caring to tell Rethalia to take away her sparkmate.

Optimus helped her to turn his body, allowing them to exit the door. They hobbled down the hall as Optimus held his injured leg off the ground as best he could, stepping with his other while his sparkmate tried to support as much of his weight as possible. They came to the appointed room and Rethalia pressed in the code and the door slid open. The room inside was dark, masking everything in shadow. However that changed as Optimus and Rethalia walked inside, activating the motion-sensitive lights. It was much like the room Rethalia had been in, but less crowded. There weren't as many machines or devices to be hooked into some unlucky Cybertronian and there were barely any toolcarts.

Slowly, ever so carefully, Rethalia led her sparkmate to the berth at the far back wall of the area. He twisted around in his own power and slipped atop the surface, softly giving a pained moan. Rethalia stayed close, just inches from his kneebolt. She gently set her servos on his upper legs, over the main armor. "What happened to you?" she demanded concernedly. Optimus shifted and curled his digits over the edge of the table. "The battle Rethalia, and I don't really know when. I did file a few shots from various sources, but that is all." he admitted. Rethalia sighed and walked around to sit by him, their shoulderbolts brushing as she leaned into him. "You're going to give me a sparkattack one of these orns, I just know it." she murmured humorously.

Optimus gave a low, comforting vibration of his chassis and he bumped her softly. "I do not intend to make you worry." he said, ducking his head closer. Rethalia gave him a few soft laughs and she looked up at him. "I'm sure you don't. And maybe after you've recovered, you may show me exactly what this world has to offer." she suggested, smiling. Optimus grinned himself, finding the ability quite enjoyable. Wrapping a servo around her tank cavity, he nodded and answered, "Yes, of course. You yourself will have to heal also however." he almost laughed when Rethalia did a very unPrime-like thing: pout. Her bottom lip plate stuck out and she quivered it dramatically.

But she didn't hold it long. She was soon dropping the act, unable to hold the laughter inside of her. Optimus joined her, absolutely elated at the lighthearted moment he got with his family unit. When their joy died down, Rethalia sighed and let her cranial unit rest on his shoulderbolt. "Liora wishes to see her mech creator." she murmured, bringing his servo from her tank cavity to rest on her abdominal slips. Optimus tenderly rubbed the smooth, layered surface and he looked down.

"Maybe when we alone, in our quarters." he suggested, watching her carefully. Rethalia sighed, but nodded, then allowing the sparkling's side of their bond to fully open.

A feeling of warmth started from his spark, spreading throughout his frame and their bond. It was such a small spark, definitely smaller than normal. But it was just so bright; it was as if she were a beacon in a room masked with darkness. He had missed so much time during her development that she was more than halfway through her repcycle. Maybe that was why she was so small, devoid of any interaction with her other creator for so long. The very thought brought the warmth in him to fade. So much time, lost. But no more. He would be there, for his sparkling and for his sparkmate.

It was a few more breems of this silence before the door opened, revealing Ratchet on the other side. He calmly walked in and Rethalia sat up, moving out of he way so Ratchet could get to Optimus easier. The brief loss in contact almost had Optimus jerking to retrieve his sparkmate, but he stopped himself. She must have sensed something through their bond and she reached over, taking his digits in hers. Ratchet peeled off what was left of the armor cap on Optimus' kneebolt and he set them aside. He then retrieved some unfamiliar tools and began prodding around inside of the injury, causing sharp stabs of pain to zing up Optimus' circuitry. After about a breem or so, he pulled away.

"Well, the motor joint and lower coil are shot. The actual bolt itself is cracked and a few of the hydraulics are worn. But the major part of this is that the main support pump and the shock are disconnected. They needed to be replaced anyway, but if you hadn't let me see this now, your overall construct of this limb would have been useless." he explained, turning to search for his right equipment. Rethalia squeezed his servo and he glanced over his shoulderbolt at the fembot. She was leaning on her elbowjoints, one servo with his while the other was hidden under her chassis.

It is a fixable problem Rethalia, no need to worry, he assured her through their link. She jumped, seeming to have been lost in her own CPU. She looked up at him and shuttered her optics. I know, but what if Ratchet hadn't gotten to you in time? she wondered, directing her gaze back at the medic. You could have lost your leg. Optimus tried reassuring her through their bond and Rethalia grinned, looking at the berth beneath her. Maybe I would have been decommissioned, he said curiously. Rethalia playfully shoved him, rolling her optics. And you would fare leaving all this? You would have charged on stilts if it meant the assurance of your troops, she retorted.

Ratchet returned and began his work on Optimus' kneebolt, completely unaware of the conversation going on before him. You would do the same, he noted, watching the mech. Rethalia brushed a thumb digit over the back of his servo and he felt her sadness. Yes, yes I would have. But that still wasn't enough apparently...she trailed off and Optimus moved so that he was the one holding her servo. And they knew you would have done everything. No matter what, all that matters now is forgiving what could not be prevented, he felt Rethalia's side of the bond lighten. That's exactly what Fera had told me, she noted lightly, brushing the link they shared with her sad irony. Well then she is a much wiser human than we had originally thought, he responded back, shifting uncomfortably under Ratchet's work.

"Hold still." Ratchet grumbled.

She is an interesting human, that is for sure. All humans are, Rethalia went on, less sorrowfully. Optimus held his side of the bond with nothing but support. They are a very...curious race. But they are intelligent and full of potential. I'm glad you take well to them. He felt his sparkmate smile and he looked back at her, seeing that his assumption was correct. It seems that a few of your comrades feel the same, seeing as not one, but three of your soldiers are Guardians, she darted her optics up and locked them with his. It is something they seem to enjoy after gaining a better understanding of the nature of humans. However, Sol seems to be taking to Fera less quickly than the others...maybe I was mistaken? he wondered.

Rethalia shook her helm and watched Ratchet again. He followed her lead and did the same. No, I think not. I could sense a bond already between them. It is a very unique one, but it is there. Sol was a good choice for the small female, seeing as his knowledge of the Stone of Primus and his experience in battle- she was cut off as Optimus nearly twisted around to fully face her. Ratchet snarled and raised his wrench, landing a very hard blow to the side of Optimus' noble helm.

"What part of "hold still" do you not compute?!" he demanded. Optimus ducked from the hit, grimacing at the pulse now in his already aching CPU. There was a small dent on his cranial unit where Ratchet had hit him, but that could be dealt with later.

Optimus felt the humor from Rethalia's side of the bond and he sighed through his vents, raising his digits to gently rub the sore spot. After regaining himself, Optimus returned to his original conversation. You know of the Stone of Primus? he asked. Yes of course, I am co-commander of the Autobot cause. I am also a Prime. Why would I not? she inquired, suspiciously probing his side of their link. He drew back for a moment, unsure. Optimus, what are you hiding? she had lost her humorous attitude, regaining her Prime status. He paused at what to say and that only seemed to make Rethalia more concerned.

We are sparkmates Optimus, why will you not tell me? there was an edge to her tone that pulled at the edges of Optimus' spark. He could tell her...but that would be risking her own and everyone's safety. But if he didn't, he would be seen as a distrustful presence in their bond.

"Ratchet, would you mind leaving us for a breem or two?" he questioned dully. Ratchet looked up from his work and then glanced between the mech and his fembot sparkmate. Great. Left out again. Giving a disbelieving snort, Ratchet turned and left, leaving the room in silence. Rethalia came around the berth and slipped over the top, coming close. "Tell me. Whatever it is, I'm here." she reached over and grabbed both of his servos now, watching him.

Once again, he stopped himself. With her so close, it was impossible to process clearly. His spark sang with her closeness, yet it also shrank back uncertainly. "Do you trust me Rethalia Prime?" Optimus inquired, looking down at her. Rethalia seemed surprised at this, but she nodded. "Of course. With my life." she answered. Optimus took one servo away from hers and he cupped her cheekplate. She leaned into his touch, her optics fluttering. "Then you must trust me now. It is your and Liora's safeties I'm concerned for. Explaining to you now what should be left for later may result in the endangerment of you both."

Rethalia lifted her digits and held his by her faceplates, her optics calm again and her side of the bond full in worry. "Optimus..." she trailed off. Deathly silence met her words, leaving them in a blanket of heavy quiet. Optimus could barely keep himself from holding his sparkmate close, feeling her sadness and pain and uncertainty. The light above them dimly gleamed off her faceplates and shone a light silver, adding to the light of her optics. Black and dark pink paint sat shining in the illumination overhead, filtering over her and outlining every curve of her body.

Even before she had become Prime, Rethalia was a sought after fembot. Her caring and strong personality had brought any mech to their kneebolts before her, her frame teasing them each when she denied their affections. She had announced that her spark belonged to only one mech, crushing the hopes of the many after her. At the time, she had been Areil, already in relations with Optimus' previous form Orian Pax. He was only a dockworker then, unable to offer more than a few credits every quartex. But she had told him it wasn't his pay she loved, but his personality.

They were horribly injured however, forcing each to be revamped. Ariel was made into Elita-one and Orian became Optimus. Optimus had joined the war and had swiftly moved through the ranks, taking on the status of Prime after his mentor Sentinel Prime had been murdered.

Elita also had rose quickly, becoming commander of her own unit of the Autobot forces. This had kept them apart for hundreds of decacycles at a time, their connection weakening. It was then that they had joined as one, becoming sparkmates and claiming each other as forever their own. And after being separated again, Optimus found himself briefly offlined, making Rethalia believe she had lost her sparkmate. This drove her to claim her rightful heir to the status of Prime, revamping her into Rethalia Prime.

Now, probably the last two Primes in existence sat side by side, speaking in their own ancient language about their trust. Rethalia was situated in fading strength, her worries and concerns finally taking over. Her small frame near Optimus' made her appear like a newly upgraded Cybertronian, his form shadowing over her own. His massive servo cupped her faceplates, her free one holding it there. Her other was focused on her abdominal slips, protectively covering it with her slim digits. After a few breems, her silence made Optimus feel as though she had forgotten to answer what lay before her. But then, she took in a long flush of air through her intake vents and released it.

"I trust you." she murmured.

Her cranial unit dipped forward and Optimus' spark relaxed in relief. If it meant threatening the trust of his sparkmate so that he may keep his family unit safe, then so be it. Arachnid and Rethalia had been enemies for vorns at a time, meaning that the Decepticon leader wouldn't even hesitate at a chance to torture her. She would slowly kill off their sparkling, just to wring out the information she wanted. The bonus for her would be that she was also killing off a piece of the two sparkmate's sparks. The loss of their sparkling would cause terrible pain and suffering to envelop them for vorns. No matter what, he wouldn't allow that to happen. "Thank you." he vented back, leaning down so that their foreplates touched. Rethalia said nothing, just let her side of their bond embrace his own.

Her presence was reassuring, like a fembot creator to its sparkling. It wasn't that creator-sparkling bond particularly that he felt, but just a warmth that he couldn't explain. The meaning behind it was intense and vast, like an endless surge of love and a feeling of completeness. The only way to truly feel and understand was to experience the same situation. Simple.

There was a loud crash from outside and both the Primes sat up, staring at the door in surprise. "Now look wha' ya did Mirage! Ratch is gonna blow up on ya if you don't get yer aft in gear!" it was Hound's voice. Optimus sagged and let go of his own weariness in a relase of air from his vents. Rethalia leaned against him and watched the door patiently.

Three...two...

Just as both of them predicted, the sliding door hissed open and the smaller red mech came falling through. He fell straight on his spinal support, lifting his legs high as the door came within feet of crushing them. Mirage backed up across the floor before he got to his peds, brushing himself off. He looked covered in dust from his anklestruts to the crest of his helm, the red beneath barely distinguishable. He turned and Optimus could hear the Autobot spy mumbling to himself about something involving Primus, a pipe, and a particular Autobot's flush pipes.

His dark blue optics flicked up as he turned and he froze, quickly standing straight. Both Optimus and Rethalia were sitting taller, Rethalia's servos in her lap and her legs crossed at the anklestruts. "Optimus Prime! Rethalia! I, well...um..." he trailed off and once again mumbled something in the human language of Spanish. "Perdón me señor and señora, I didn't mean to barge in here." he apologized. Optimus set his servos on his upper legs, one laid close to his exposed pivotjoint.

"Mirage, what is happening outside?" he asked, ignoring the apology. Mirage dropped the digits that had come up to rub the back of his neck and he stood at attention. "While out with the platoon of military troops, we had only come up with a Decepticon soldier who was trying to hack the systems of one of the main electrical towers just outside the state border. When he retreated, all he left behind was a compad." the Autobot came forward and handed his leader a flat device.

Looking over it, Optimus found one simple direction enlisted among the rest of the useless information: Hack main electronic systems and implant attached device.

Optimus turned over the compad, but nothing was attached. "There's nothing connected here." he noted, looking up. Mirage nodded knowingly and took back the pad. "Si, we had found that. It seemed that the soldier was a technicians specialist, and he'd already implanted the object." he reported. Optimus felt Rethalia's end of their bond tighten. "And that suggests that whatever was in that device is now attached to the main systems grid?" she inquired, a note of seriousness in her voice. Mirage nodded towards her.

"And we haven't found out why they wanted it. The main grid isn't attached to this base, or any of the others, so it is unclear why they would attack it." he said, slipping the compad into a pocket in his armor. "All the same, I would like you to contact Prowl and have him analyze the main grids. We will have to contact Secretary Kepler about this and make sure he informs his superiors." Optimus commented. Mirage nodded and awaited further instruction. "Did you find anything else?" he went on. Mirage shook his cranial unit and then stood still. "Did you find the main device the soldier used?" Rethalia asked, calmly watching the spy. Mirage looked to the fembot, "No, nothing was there that we could find." he reported.

Optimus just sat stiffly, seeming to be in his own universe at the moment. He wasn't really focused on the conversation between his mate and Mirage. Instead, he was scanning the information now logged into his files. In the past, the Decepticons had hacked the grid before, but they only were trying to gain control of the large satellites orbiting the Earth. The satellites had been a separate order of operation, but they were somehow connected to the main grid byway of other layered systems. It was relatively difficult at first to find them in the systems because of their ability to mask their presence, but once they were found, the virus was isolated and destroyed, cutting off their access to the main controls of the satellites.

He sifted through the files and focused mainly on the reports concerning that incident. He brought both files forward and compared them, trying to find the very thing that connected them somehow. They were similar, yes, but there was also something different about them. They couldn't be going after the same systems as the former attack had, the compad said as much. The soldier had been assigned to hack the technologies district, not the shuttle grid. Optimus shuttered his optics and his optic ridges came down in frustration. So they had accessed the same main workings lines, but they were after a completely different objective. Could they be after information? And if so, what? They had already attacked the base, so they knew it was here. There were the other bases, but it would be useless information.

If they wished to find an energon converter, that would be useless too because they already contained one. Maybe they were trying to get control of the airways, or some other form of general communication. Was it the fembots? There were no sparklings on Earth, except for Rethalia's, but only a select few knew that.

"Optimus." a voice called. He was nudged slightly and he started. Rethalia had said his name, snapping him back to reality. Mirage was waiting before them, standing patiently before his leader. Rethalia was watching him carefully. It wasn't often Optimus found himself distracted, unless it was a truly unique situation. "I apologize." he said, looking between the both of them. "Mirage, contact Prowl. I will inform Secretary Kepler and make sure we obtain information on this bug." he directed, locking optics with the mech. Mirage nodded and left after a dismissal from Optimus.

As he sat leaning on his elbowjoints, he locked his digits together and bowed his cranial unit. He could feel Rethalia tenderly rubbing his spinal support and she suddenly slipped her digit beneath a certain panel on his support. He jumped up again and all thoughts in his CPU disappeared in surprise. She pinched the small wire behind the plate and he jerked, an energetic whirr flashing through his system. Rethalia softly giggled and did it again.

"Rethalia." Optimus turned to his sparkmate and sent her a warning through their bond. This wasn't the time.

"Yes Optimus?" she cooed, doing it again.

Optimus' form nearly leapt off the table. He leaned away from her grip and she followed, digging deeper. The zing he felt from the gesture sent a laugh bubbling to his vocal processor. "No, don't do that." he commanded firmly. Rethalia grinned mischievously and directly disobeyed his order, brushing another circuit. Unable to hold it in any longer, Optimus laughed, cutting himself off as quickly as he had done it. Rethalia moved to her kneebolts and she continued to pinch the wiring under the plates. Optimus couldn't contain himself, his laughter rolling off his vocals and rumbling throughout the room. His form arched away and he reached for her before she skillfully avoided him and nimbly brought her digits under another plate.

Optimus tensed and he squirmed, moving like a fish to dislodge her.

"Stop! Retha- hahaha- That tickles!" he bellowed, his legs swinging around. Rethalia dodge his leg, but she had to reach over him to slide her servo into another sensitive spot behind his kneebolt. He finally got ahold of her arms, but he mistakenly brought her close to him, sending his balance off-center. They both were sent tumbling off the side of the berth and to the floor below. Optimus grunted as his spinal support hit the ground and Rethalia fell ontop of him, his internal fans getting the wind knocked from them. He opened his optics and found Rethalia lifting her helm from his chassis.

His servos were on her upper and lower spinal support, hers on his chassis. "Are you alright?" he asked softly. One of his legs were hung up on the berth, and thankfully it was his injured one. His other leg was slightly inclined, his knee straddled by Rethalia. She nodded and abruptly gave a giggle, leaning her chassis against his own. His frame heated up and he swallowed the excess lubricant from his tongue. "That was actually kind of fun." she commented, gazing into his optics. Optimus lifted his cranial unit and looked at her with a funny expression. "Falling off a table is fun?" he asked incredulously.

Rethalia slid up to get close to his faceplates. Optimus' optics widened and he let his helm hit the floor. "No, not falling. Although, this position is fairly interesting. It was fun because you laughed. I laughed. It was a happy moment." she answered gently. Optimus relaxed and he grinned gently. "Good, I'm glad you are happy." he said, his chassis rumbling. Suddenly, his spark fluttered, pulsing with a powerful beat as he noticed Rethalia's spark just above his own. Her smile begun to fade and she watched him intently. His own grin dropped and he moved his servo from her upper support to her cheekplate. He felt her side of the bond drop slightly in sadness and he stroked a thumb digit over her faceplate.

"Why can't we have more moments like this?" she whispered in a hurt voice. Optimus felt his fluttering happiness and contentment to fall. And just as quietly he answered her, "I don't know. Our time together seems all too full of sadness and pain." he paused his digit as he found Rethalia's optics sheened in opaque tears. Their shining, light-blue beauty shimmered as one fat tear rolled off her cheekplate.

And without warning, she leaned her cranial unit towards him, her optics shuttering. Optimus let her come close, but his CPU was unsure. His spark wouldn't hesitate at her closeness, but his logic and his sense would. She was lost and grieving. That would lead any fembot to do anything without thinking.

Before she pressed her lip plates to his, he paused and spoke. "Rethalia..." he couldn't find anything to say other than her designation. But his tone said it all. He felt his spark twist painfully when Rethalia's side of the spark fluctuated pleadingly.

"Optimus, please...we have been apart for too long. I'm hurting right now...just...just..." she continued to move towards him and this time he didn't stop her. Their lip plates met and a few of Rethalia's tears bled off on to his own faceplates. She kissed him passionately, filled with such breathless pain and need. He could feel her desperation- her grief. It knocked the wind from his vents.

He felt himself unable to keep his frame from heating and his vents fought to keep up with him. Her own shell warmed as well, their temperatures melting into one another as Rethalia wrapped one servo around his neck. The air around them seemed to sizzle with the heat coming off them, nearly seeming cold against their armor. Optimus' chassis fought to stay closed, his spark pushing against its casing and trying to get to Rethalia's own. His circuitry buzzed and his energon was on fire, his levels seeming at an all time high. Their bond swirled and knitted together, muddling his thoughts further. He tried, tried prying his servos from her- tried to force the fogginess from his CPU. But he couldn't. And apparently, neither could she.

Rethalia was one of the most level-headed, thoughtful Cybertronians he'd known, so this was so unlike her. Yes, they had been away for vorns, but this was the last way he would have thought she'd be acting. Her grief most likely was catching up to her, not even their sparkling comforting her. Rethalia drug her digits tenderly down the side of his helm, causing the receptors beneath to melt under her touch. His chassis rumbled and Rethalia took tight hold of his neck, as if he were going to pull away from her. Everything around them seemed lost, nothing mattering at that moment than each other. She was everything and nothing else mattered at that nanoclick.

One of her servos traveled down his chassis plates and just dipped into the scaring around the latch of his chassis. The tips of her digits traced the spot as she continued to kiss him, her lip plates moving across his mandible and her optics nothing but slits. His hand traveled up her spinal support and traveled over the contours of her plating, taking in every beautiful inch of her protoform. Her frame suddenly trembled and her vocal processors let out a soft purr.

A sparkbeat after Optimus' audio processor nearly shot with the sound of his sparkmate, there was a crude noise from the doorway.

Rethalia tensed against Optimus and both of their frames cooled in mere nanoclicks. Rethalia's cranial unit lifted and looked over him, his own bending back so he was seeing upside-down. Ratchet was stationed at the door, his arms crossed and his optics narrowed. Rethalia slowly slinked off of Optimus' body and Optimus nearly yanked her back down.

"When you said give you a few breems, I didn't think you meant for this." he commented in bitter sarcasm. Optimus looked back at his sparkmate, who was standing above him with forced composure.

There was a few wet streaks down her faceplates, but nothing more to give away the fact she had cried. Optimus sat up and pushed himself to his peds, using the table for support as he kept weight off of his injured pivotjoint. He drug himself atop the table and Rethalia pulled herself up beside him.

"Ratchet, a knock would have been greatly welcomed." he noted flatly. Ratchet huffed and came closer. Rethalia's half of their bond buzzed with the remnants of their activities and she seemed calmer. Her grief wasn't as crushing and she had allowed their link with their sparkling to return. Liora had been in deep recharge and hadn't even noticed their behavior.

"I do not permit that kind of... action in your currant state Optimus Prime. Nor you Rethalia Prime." he looked between the sparkmates with a searing gaze. "Do not blame a sparkmate for trying to unite with her mate after vorns of separation." Rethalia lectured simply. Ratchet sent another glare her way that would make any mech shudder. But Rethalia was no mech. She was a commanding fembot of the Autobot army, meaning it took a lot to even cause remote fright.

"Save that for later. When you are actually capable of sustaining that kind of ability." Ratchet scolded, coming closer. He swung open the armor of Optimus' kneebolt and he dipped in his miniature torch he held.

Rethalia slipped her servo over Optimus' and he felt the tendrils of her bond curling over his. Do not let him ruin our moment Optimus, we will continue this conversation in private, she promised over their private link. Optimus' vocal processors stalled and he jerked with a coughing fit. His vents were just getting over his moment with Rethalia and now they were put through another series of desperate gasps. Ratchet glanced up at him and he shook his helm, waving one servo to signal he was ok. Rethalia, behave, he sent firmly. But inside, just on the edge of their bond, he felt a deep-set interest.

So just a little lightness from all the doom and gloom going on around here :)