So, now that it is weeks later than I promised this would be up... I fail at deadlines.

Anyway, Warnings: as should be expected by now, hints of past abuse, mech x mech relationships, and hints at possible underage marriage (due to cultural misunderstanding).

And, now, read and enjoy!

Chapter 4:

Thing swam around in the aether, toodling about until his trine came to visit again. He was trying very hard not to like his new trine because he knew that all the sweetness and kindness would not last long past his emergence from frame stasis. That orn was fast approaching too, as Smokey had told Thing that his lucid moments at the spark level were getting longer, a sign to the medics that it was almost time to wake up. Thing was really sad about that upcoming orn because it signified the end of the adventure stories, the retelling of epic pranks, and the affectionate cuddles, especially the cuddles. Thing sighed to himself, he often dreamed of what it would be like to be snuggled by Prowl in the real world, but he always crushed those dreams before they went too far, they felt too much like hope. It was foolish to hope.

Thing felt a nudge against his awareness that he had come to associate with the approach of his trine-brothers. He was surprised to feel both of their presences this orn. Prowl had a very busy schedule and could often not come at the same time as Smokey. Thing held himself back from rushing up to them out of ingrained caution; he was still trying to squash that pesky hope before it broke him. Thing's trine held no such reservation though, and as soon as they were sure he had noticed them, they slipped over to nuzzle him, one on each side. Thing tried not to give in to the warm fuzzy feeling of safety but he was losing that battle a little more every time it happened.

The three sparks sat there in silence until the bond was re-strengthened, then Smokey nudged him. "Good news bitling!"

Good news was never good for Thing and in his resultant apprehension he probably left Smokey hanging too long before answering timidly. "What?"

Smokey drooped at the obvious hesitation but pushed onward cheerfully anyway. "Ratchet said you get to wake up this orn!"

Thing blanked out his emotions. He could not let them feel his panic. He knew that it was a good thing, for them, because they would no longer have to put so much effort into pretending to be nice to him. Thing did not want to go back to that horrible farce of a functioning, but resisting his spark's hope was getting to hard to do.

Thing schooled his emotions and replied enthusiastically. "That's awesome!"

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Prowl slowly came back to himself and glanced at his brother. "Did you feel him there at the end?"

Smokescreen nodded forlornly. "He still believes we will hurt him."

Prowl looked down at their trine-brother. "What do we do?"

"We start small." Smokescreen replied determinedly. "and we don't give up, no matter what."

Prowl reached out to stroke the grey mechling's cheek strut. "Never."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Jazz waltzed into Prowl's office with the intent to make the mech take a break; the Praxian was working twice as much in his grieving and was going to collapse. However, when the saboteur entered he saw that Prowl was slumped over his desk with his helm pillowed on his arms. Jazz immediately silenced his pedsteps and crept around the desk. If he allowed Prowl to recharge in that position he would wake with several stiff and painful linkages, therefore, it would be best to move him. Jazz knew he had enough strength to carry Prowl to the mech's quarters, but it would raise far too many questions. The couch in Jazz's office however, could easily be reached without anymech seeing the Praxian, and was comfortable enough to serve as a temporary berth.

Just as the Polyhexian was about to touch his friend's shoulder pauldron to begin moving he heard a tiny whimper. He leaned down to see if Prowl was alright and saw the dim blue reflection of lit optics in the desk surface.

"Prowler," Jazz called softly. "Are ya alright?"

Prowl shot up like someone had electrocuted him. "Jazz! What are you doing in here?!"

The Praxian's outraged exclamation was suspiciously defensive and Jazz narrowed his visor. He soothed a servo over an agitated shoulder, not the flicking doorwing that he really wanted to stroke, and explained in a gentle tone. "Ah was comin' ta see if ya wan'ed ta take an ene'gon break wit' meh, but Ah thought Ah'd caught ya sleepin' at ya desk n' was gonna move ya ta someplace mo' comf'table. Ah heard ya whimper, ya okay Prowler?"

"I am fine Jazz, I was merely resting my optics." Prowl replied neutrally.

Jazz's visor narrowed even more. "Ya whimpered."

Prowl looked away. "I was yawning."

The Polyhexian leaned his hip against the desk in a subtle gesture of how Prowl was not getting out of this. "Ya kno' Prowler, Ah considered us ta be friends, close friends, n' friends don' lie ta each otha'. Mah audials'r tha best in all o' Cybertron, n' Ah kno' wha' Ah heard. Ya mah dearest friend Prowler n' if som'at is hurtin' ya Ah can' jus' stand by n' watch ya hurt."

Prowl stared at Jazz for a long time, and the saboteur could see the war going on behind the Praxian's optics as he decided if he felt comfortable sharing with Jazz. He finally nodded in agreement and spoke in a hushed tone. "The problem does not lie with myself alone but with my trinebrother."

Jazz's sensor horns flicked forward in concern. "Is Smokey okay?"

Prowl shook his helm. "The problem is not Smokey, it is the new member of our trine."

Jazz felt his spark sink. "New trine member?" He asked weakly.

"Yes," Prowl nodded. "The youngling we recovered from… from the wreckage, he had been prematurely trined and the only way to save him was to give him a new trine."

"That's allowed in Praxus?!" Jazz responded in shock.

"No, it most certainly is not." Prowl would have been offended, but he knew Polyhex was not nearly as safe as Praxus. "Only the worst of the criminal element did so, it was a way of ensuring loyalty from victims of protection rackets by taking their younglings for trine slaves. The treatment of the youngling was dependent upon how well the family paid the mob."

"Oh, Ah see." Jazz understood, he really did. A part of him had been concerned about why Prowl thought it was acceptable to take a youngling as a mate, but given the circumstances, Jazz felt that it was justified. The only problem now was how to ignore his breaking spark long enough to help the Praxian through his obvious troubles. "So, wha's tha problem Prowler, ya should be happy ya saved him."

Prowl slumped. "His first trine were particularly low scum and took great pride in torturing and demechanizing him. They called him an it and referred to him as 'Thing' to the point where he believes Thing is his real designation. He is so traumatized that I do not know where to start to begin helping him!"

Jazz laid a servo on the clenched fist Prowl had made on the desk. "Ya start wit' lil things tha' ta him'll seem like big things, like his name. Mechs who are traumatized like tha' tend ta test things repeatedly until they're absolutely sure tha' it's real. Tha' means tha' when ya tell him somethin' ya better mean it, n' mos' importantly, ya gotta be completeleh consistent wit' him, no sudden changes in ya routine."

Prowl looked at Jazz gratefully. "I, can do that. But will it really work?"

"Yes. It'll take time, lotsa time, n' ya might have some 'ccasions where he backslides, but 'ventually he will learn ta trust ya."

Prowl nodded. "It sounds like you are speaking from personal experience."

Jazz shrugged. "Ah once had a brotha', n' Polyhex wasn' always tha safest place."

"I see, I am sorry to have brought up unpleasant memories for you." Prowl understood, but it was too raw a wound to share, even after so many vorn. Perhaps some orn he would have healed to enough to speak of it commonly as Jazz did his.

Jazz clapped Prowl's shoulder pauldron. "Nothin' ta 'pologize fo'. Now, if ya'll excuse meh, Ah gotta go see a mech about a cassette."

Prowl's lipplates twitched in a tiny, very deniable smile. "Farewell Jazz, and thank you."

Jazz skipped merrily out of the office, and then the department's wing, only stopping to slump in broken-sparked despair when he was two corridors away. Prowl was lost to him.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

If Mirage had not been a noble of the highest order he would have been vibrating in his plating by now. After a few decacycles of their paint display Hound and Trailbreaker had reverted to their old paint schemes with the exception of some fine highlighting on their helms. Mirage was so flattered by this that he made no objections when they did not immediately do anything else. This orn however, his two suitors had strongly suggested that he not dawdle in getting back to his quarters after his shift. If it would not have been such bad form he would have abandoned his post to rush back to his room, but Mirage was a gentlemechs who honored his commitments even when they were inconveniences. As soon as he was off-shift was a completely different matter though. Mirage was so excited to see what his suitors had left for him that he chose to forgo getting his dark-cycle meal.

When he did reach his quarters it took him three tries to punch in the code so badly were his fingers trembling. Finally it pinged acceptance and he rushed in. It was most disappointing, therefore when he did not see any obvious differences to his quarters. Mirage searched for a few kliks but did not find anything. There was no way that Hound and Trailbreaker would be so cruel as to have made a joke of this, so Mirage just had to figure out where they had hidden his gift. It finally occurred to him that it was likely cloaked in a hologram. Unfortunately, unlike normal holograms those that Hound created for semi-permanent use were nearly impossible to detect by the usual methods. Fortunately for Mirage he understood well that holograms were nothing more than highly manipulated fields of light, which was very similar to the workings of his phase disruptor. So, now knowing how devious his suitors were being, Mirage activated his cloak. He extended it out as far as it would go and began to search anew.

He finally found it masquerading as his bookend when the field of his cloak disturbed the holographic field. It was an egg shaped hollow obelisk with a plain clear crystal inside. The sides of the oval obelisk were steelglass so as to not obstruct the view of the crystal, but the crystal was cut in such a manner that it could not be seen when looking directly at it. Mirage looked at it from every angle trying to see what was so special about it that Hound and Trailbreaker thought it would in any way make a good gift.

Mirage was just about ready to sit down and cry when a ping came from his door. According to his scanners it was the two mecha he did not want to see at the moment. He slammed open the door as fast as a hydraulic, automated sliding door could go, which was far slower and less satisfying than Mirage wanted it to be. He was ready to ream out both of them for their cruelty, but one look at their excited faces had him deflating like a bad tire. They truly thought they had done well, and perhaps for wildsmecha they had. This, to his own surprise, had Mirage swiftly deciding that it was the thought that counted. He was just stirring himself up to thank them for the unprepossessing gift when Hound's faceplates scrunched into a frown and he reached forward to grab the noble's elbow. "You didn't understand the gift did you?"

What was there to understand, Mirage thought, it was a plain crystal. Hound took his silence as the confirmation it was and he gently guided Mirage in to his berth with Trailbreaker following.

"Let us explain." The black mech said taking a seat in the noble's desk chair.

Mirage just looked at them, ready to nod in the appropriate places. Hound sighed and picked up the obelisk. "The first gift given in courtship is meant to be a representation of the aspects the courtiers appreciate most in the courted. That is perfectly embodied by this. When mecha look at you they see one of two things, they see that you are a noble, a mech gilded and put on a pedestal who is really no more special than your average mech…"

"Or," Trailbreaker took over. "they see your mods and see a mech to be used for their own ends, honorable or otherwise."

Mirage was ready to cry, the mechs who were to be his bondeds saw him as plain and as only having value for his spark-gift.

"That however, is not what we see." Trailbreaker continued.

Hound placed the egg shape on the ground. "While we see what everymech else does, we know that it is nothing more than a shield to protect what is hiding underneath." The scout pressed a hidden button on the side and the glass sides flipped out and down to raise the obelisk frame onto a pedestal base.

The newly unshielded crystal glittered with light and color, and Mirage could not help gasping at the sight. It was so beautiful; Mirage had never seen anything like. It had no internal power source yet it glowed brighter than the overhead lights and the colors were not merely reflections, no they were the result of the internal light refracting through the different parts of the crystal. Mirage was mesmerized and likely would have missed the rest of Hound's statement of Trailbreaker had not brushed a servo softly down the spy's forearm guard.

Hound smiled softly when Mirage looked up startled from his reverie and continued. "We see an amazing mech, who is kind, tendersparked, a mech who listens to his friends' troubles and does not judge them. A mech who stands willingly in defense of others, who loves fiercely, has a mischievous streak worthy of one of the twins but with far more practice covering his tracks. A mech brilliant enough to outfox Megatron's best, but humble enough not to boast about it."

"We see a mech with so many amazing qualities that it would take us decacycles to list them all. You are unique and that is why we chose this, the rarest of types of crystal, to express how we see you." Trailbreaker finished.

Mirage looked down, trying futilely to wipe away the coolant streaming down his faceplates. He tried to open his mouth to thank them for the astonishingly insightful gift, but no words escaped. No one had ever said such wonderful things about him, never complimented him with such strong conviction that it was all true. He was so used to back-stabbing, veiled insults, and games of power that he had thought the worst of his suitors. It was refreshing, and freeing to have such open admiration and honesty gifted to him. It was this more than the compliments that made him cry. Being able to be himself and finding acceptance would never have been a consideration in the bonding that would have awaited him in the Towers. It was such a relief.

His two suitors moved to sit beside him and snuggled him between their larger chassis'.

"We love you." They said.

Mirage shook between them. He loved them too, and it terrified him.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

HUD ONLINE - 100%

SYSTEMS BOOTUP IN PROGRESS -

PLEASE STAND BY…

Thing watched with dread as the medic-supervised reboot slowly brought him closer to the land of the functioning. It felt a little strange to be able to sense his frame after so long as just a spark, but the complete lack of pain was an amazing thing to feel.

AUDIALS ONLINE - 100%

Now that his audials were online he could hear a gruff but gentle voice cajoling him along. "That's it little mech, nice and easy. Don't rush the bootcycle, let it happen naturally."

The voice was unfamiliar, but it rang with the presence of the medic that had been entering his processors to fix damages left over from Praxus. While Thing had been unable to access his processors to directly monitor the medic he had been just aware enough to be a peripheral presence. The medic had always been gentle and for this reason Thing filed the voice's owner under 'Friendly-Safe.'

OPTICS ONLINE - 100%...

OPTICAL OVERRIDE - MEDICAL CODES ACCEPTED - OPTICAL FEED REDUCED - 30%

The reduced ability to see frightened Thing, until his optics lit up and the overhead lights blinded even his reduced vision. When his optics finally adjusted he could see a broad red and white medical frame peering down at him with intense optics. "Hello there bitlet. Welcome back to functioning. I am Chief Medical Officer Ratchet, and if you will be a good mechling for just a little longer I'll have you up and moving in no time."

The intense optics twinkled at Thing and he grinned, or would have if his fine motor controls been online. He liked this medic and hoped that his masters would let him visit Ratchet after he had proved he could be a good mechling. Speaking of whom, his trinebrothers were not in the room. Where were they? Had they abandoned him already?"

Ratchet noticed his frantic glances and rubbed a gentle servo over the mechling's helm. "I haven't told your trine that I was waking you up yet because I wanted to make sure everything was going to smoothly. I am coming them now to come see you through the rest of the reboot, so don't worry, they haven't left you alone."

That was not actually very reassuring to Thing, but the medic was being so nice, so the mechling let him live in his ignorance. He patiently sat through the rest of the boot cycle, enjoying the last bit of peace before he was turned over to his new masters. Just as the last of his motor relays came online two doorwinged mecha came through the door. The taller of the Praxians was a stern looking black and white that immediately made Thing feel afraid; of course, the second Praxian's easy smile and rolling gait did not inspire much confidence either. They resembled his old masters' boss and that mech's gambling 'enforcer.' Thing slicked down his plating in appropriate submission and waited for them to address him.

The black and white eased forward and, with gentleness that Thing attributed to the medic's presence, grasped his servo. "Hello little one, I am Prowl." The mech said with surprising warmth. "Has Ratchet adequately cared for your needs?"

Thing nodded.

The blue Praxian, who had to be Smokescreen, tweaked his ped. "It is okay to speak if you want to bitlet, we will never punish you for speaking."

Thing did not believe it, but meekly said, "Ok" anyway.

Then the elders of his trine were being shoo-ed back by Ratchet so the medic could walk Thing around the Medbay and assess the youngling's stability. When he was finally given a clean bill of health Prowl reached out a servo to him.

"Come, it is time to show you your new home."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

The walk home had been telling, Smokescreen thought, very indicative of the work he and Prowl had ahead of them. Despite Smokey's cheerful tour and Prowl's murmured encouragements, the mechling had never once let his plating relax, nor had he spoken more than three words the whole walk.

Now they were in their new quarters settling their third into his room, which was not going much better than the base tour. The quarters were relatively new to all three mechs as both Prowl and Smokey had decided it would be best to give up their bachelor quarters and apply for a family suite on the second level of the Officers' Wing. One thing that noted, and he could not tell if it was a good reaction or a bad one, was that the mechling was very surprised to have his own room. It would take further study and hopefully, if they treaded carefully, the bitlet would warm up to them.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Prowl sat the little gray youngling down on the new couch and knelt in front of him. "Now that you are acquainted with our new home we need to establish the house rules."

The mechling cringed in fear and remained submissively silent. Prowl reached up and delicately took the little one's servos in his own. "The first rule is that neither Smokescreen nor I will ever beat you or strike you, in punishment or otherwise. On this I give you my solemn word as a Praxian."

The mechling gasped, even he knew how serious that oath was. To give your word as a Praxian meant that if you broke your promise your wings would be ripped off and your citizenship revoked. The mechling did not rejoice however, it was only the three of them present, with no witnesses Master Prowl could merely claim that Thing had misheard.

"The second rule is that no one in this trine is to be demeaned or treated as less, be that in speech, actions, or thoughts. And that begins with our designations." Prowl continued in a firm, but gentle tone. "We saw what they called you, the non-designation they gave you to objectify you. We would give you a proper designation befitting a valued member of our trine. Would you permit this?"

The mechling had no response, nor did he have any idea how to form one. Giving him a designation made him special, why would they offer such an unattainable reward to him?... Unless it was removable? Maybe they intended to give him a designation for public purposes, but take it away when they felt he had misbehaved. It was a plausible reason and even though this new form of hurting him was already painful to think about, Thing nodded. Prowl smiled openly. "Then we shall call you Bluestreak. It is High Vosian for 'Unexpected Gift'."

'Bluestreak' barely registered the remainder of the house rules. His designation was so beautiful, he loved it already. He did not understand the reason for the depth of attachment to a designation he had only possessed for two kliks, but he did understand that the loss he would feel when it was taken from him would be far greater than he previously anticipated. It likely would have been less painful to insult his new masters by rejecting the giving of his designation.

When the rules were finished it was declared to be berthtime and both elder Praxians took great car to tuck Bluestreak/Thing in comfortably before bidding him a peaceful recharge. Bluestreak/Thing laid awake for a long time, mulling over what had happened in the short time period after the Medbay, and finally decided that the only way to find a base-line for his masters' expectations was to break their rules. It would be hard, it would be tantamount to damaging himself, but he had to know their true colors. He could not live in this hope-filled limbo anymore.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Jazz moped down the corridor not paying attention to his surroundings as he had since hearing Prowl had filled the last spot in his trine. It registered dimly that he was somewhere near the Medical Wing and he wondered if it was possible for Ratchet to temporarily delete his emotions. Just long enough for Jazz to get over Prowl, which should only take a couple hundred millennia, no biggie.

His despondent attitude meant that he never noticed when a door to his left opened and a shadowed arm reached out toward him. Jazz did not register anything until the servo attached to the arm snagged his shoulder to yank him back into the darkness, and by then it was too late.

Tamersten: I'm so glad you like it so far! As you can see Blue has finally gotten his name, I chose for it to have another meaning though because he doesn't talk yet, and personal headcannon dictates that his name only gets translated as 'speaking fast' in English.

Every1's Beta: yes, definitely an introvert, though if the outline holds true we should see some emergence from the shell in a couple chapters. Your guess on Blue's age is accurate, there will be such a scene (though maybe not til close to the end) with Blue shocking the proverbial socks off some poor mech (I'm debating making it Prime), and yes we will see at least his next frame upgrade before the end of the story. Some slight improvement in the JxP situation is coming next chapter, it will be extra slow just for you *wink*.

theoHIangurl: sorry about the formatting problem, I'll try changing the way I present flashbacks for easier reading. Miniharem? *snerk* That is an awesome description.

BookLovingPersonR.B.L: ah, then I succeeded, the feels were definitely the target. =)

Raindrop: 2am! Goodness, I hope you got some adequate sleep! Did you stay up just to finish the story?(author is very flattered if you did.)

guest: Solar Spark Verse is simply the designation I am giving to this particular set of stories so that people can determine which belong to this universe and which are not. The meaning behind it is related to something that will happen in the distant future.

Neon: Hopefully this chapter is less chaotic and more streamline. Ah, you are referencing 'The Replacements', yes Sentinel is the antagonist (despite being dead) in that story. He manipulated, blackmailed, and coerced his way through a 'relationship' with Prowl that started consensual and quickly became noncon. Prowl lived under that for so many vorns that even 2-3 decavorns later, with copious counseling, he still has flashbacks to those orns. The twins will have a more important role than I cannot spoil yet. The time between ch 2 and 3 is about 2 decacycles-ish.