Well, I really pushed it down to the wire this time didn't I. I would apologize for waiting until Dec 31st, but that would mean being sorry for my first ever Triple Post, which I am very much not sorry for.

Warnings: brief mentions of past trauma to a child.

Enjoy chapter 1 of 3 of the triple post. Happy New Year everyone!

Chapter 6:

Smokescreen rose slowly from his recharge cycle, the dark-cycle before had been very productive and he had desperately needed a nap. He stretched luxuriously and shook out his wings. He noticed that it was very quiet, and that was even taking into account that Bluestreak was still not speaking or playing. Smokescreen thought that perhaps the little one might also be taking a nap and tip-pedded over to the mechling's berthroom. It was empty at first glance so the blue and red Praxian looked in all the hidey-holes throughout the room. Still no sign of a grey mechling. Smokescreen was beginning to get worried, but it was possible that Bluestreak might have hidden away somewhere else in the suite.

A joor's worth of increasingly frantic searching produced no youngling and Smokescreen made a comm call he had not anticipated ever having to make.

-:- Prowl, the bitlet's gone! -:-

-:- What? -:-

-:- Bluestreak! He's gone! -:-

The line went dead and Smokescreen began to pace. It would not be long before his brother arrived, then they could panic together and turn the base upside down to get their mechling trinebrother back.

~Meanwhile~

Bluestreak/Thing wailed his terror and upset into the comforting gold shoulder of the mech who held him. His crying earlier had caused the golden mech to wake up and smack the red one for scaring a youngling. After that Sunstreaker had scooped him up to cuddle. However, despite figuring out that he was, in fact, safe with these mechs, Bluestreak/Thing could not stop crying.

Then the safe arms moved and he was held up to face the big mech. "Hey, you're okay now, time to dry up the coolant-works."

The deep, yet nice voice startled Bluestreak/Thing out of his emotional cycle and he was able to calm himself down to minor hitching when he vented. Sunstreaker smiled faintly and tucked the youngling back into his shoulder.

"There now, that's better, isn't it?" he said gruffly. "What's your designation sparkplug, and where'd you come from? I didn't think we had any sparklings on base."

Bluestreak/Thing sniffed softly. "I'm… Bluestreak."

He wanted to make sure that at least one mech knew his special name, that way when his trine took it away it would still be known and safe.

"I'm sorry for my idiot brother, it's been a while since he had a playmate with the same mental capacity as himself." The gruff voice said again.

"Hey!"

Bluestreak/Thing giggled. A black servo tapped his and he looked up into the face of the red mech. "Sunstreaker is right about one thing bitlet, I do like to play. I have a couple of games here that Sunny won't play with me, would you?"

Bluestreak/Thing thought about it. The brothers were very nice and not tried to hurt him even once. "Okay."

~Back in the Land of the Panicking~

Smokescreen and Prowl walked swiftly through the halls attempting to retrace the path of their wee trinebrother. Prowl had contacted Red Alert within moments of being informed of his mechling's disappearance. Unfortunately, it was Red's darkcycle off and the cameras had not been as stringently maintained, something the white and red Gygaxian was rectifying even at that very moment. Added to that issue, was the fact that Bluestreak was almost the size of a minibot and therefore very difficult to detect in the few cameras that were pointed in the direction of his flight. The last viable frame showed him headed in the direction of the enlisted quarters.

Neither Smokescreen nor Prowl could figure out what would possibly draw him down there, especially since they had stressed that it was off limits for safety reasons. Asking the mecha traversing the area brought no answers for few of them had actually been in the area during the time in question and those that were had not noticed the little mech for all the minibots. Fortunately that changed when they reached the forbidden wing.

A brown tankformer rushed up to them as soon as they turned the first corner. "General Prowl! The twins have someone's sparkling locked in their room!"

The distinctive haze of lock-up started to wash over Prowl at the mention of his youngling's whereabouts. The twins were less than respectable by normal mechs' standard, and though they seemed to respect Prowl, in their own way, they were still pitfighters from Kaon. Their rough manner and harsh upbringing would not be favorable to a delicate youngling's frame or meta. Prowl held himself together though with the thought that it would not have been long since Bluestreak had been trapped, elsewise the brown mech would have reported it to Security.

"Thank you soldier, we will deal with it posthaste."

The frontliner vented in relief. "Oh, thank goodness. The twins have had him for joors and I wasn't able to report it because they knocked me out!"

Prowl's second attempt at lock-up was stalled by Smokescreen's urgent shoving as the older Praxian dashed off towards the twins' shared quarters. Black and white caught up with blue and red quickly though, and they took the next two corners as one. The desired door loomed up before them and Prowl punched in his override rather than wait for the twins to decide answering their doorchime was worthwhile.

All of their frantic running was unnecessary it turned out, to their gasping disbelief. Bluestreak was completely unharmed and sitting happily on the floor between two giant chassis getting a first class education in pranking from the red mech who lay beside him. Prowl was so relieved that he did not even make note of the pranking schematics as he rushed to scoop Bluestreak into his arms.

"Bluestreak!" he cried, "Where have you been! Why did you run off, we were so worried!"

Smokescreen echoed the same sentiment and hovered close to his recovered trinebrother. Bluestreak said nothing and seemed to shrink into himself. Sideswipe subspaced the plans for his latest epic Idea™ and stood languidly. "Sorry Prowl, we didn't know he was yours, otherwise we'd'a commed you. Although, if you're having problems getting responsible sitters for him Sunny and I would be happy to help out whenever we're off duty."

Sideswipe leaned closer conspiratorially. "Although Sunny will probably protest just for the principle of it, he really loves younglings and is a great caretaker."

Sunstreaker growled menacingly, but quite obviously did not protest. Smokescreen thanked the twins for taking care of his trinebrother and for their kind offer, then ushered off his trine back to their own suite.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Prowl set Bluestreak/Thing down on the couch and stepped back so Smokescreen could kneel in front of the mechling. Bluestreak/Thing already felt abandoned by the action and noted in his meta that Smokescreen, surprisingly, would be the violent one. He braced himself for the coming blow, but it never arrived.

Instead a sad, hesitant question was asked. "Bluestreak, why did you leave the suite without waking me up? We have been so worried about you."

It had to be a trick, it just had to be, so Bluestreak/Thing crossed his arms and defiantly said nothing. Smokescreen looked at Prowl and the black and white took a try. "Bluestreak, we understand that it can be lonely cooped up in here by yourself, but we cannot just let you roam unescorted through the base. It is too dangerous…"

Before Prowl could continue Bluestreak/Thing cut him off. "You're nothin' but a pair of sparklin' humpin' liars! You just want to keep me hidden in here until everyone forgets about Praxus and forgets I'm here so you don't have'ta be nice to me anymore! You said I was Special, but you're nothin' but liars, just like my old trine! I bet the only reason you're takin' care of me is cuz Medic Ratchet made you do it! You don't care about me, you never cared about me! I'm the stray pet you rescued, and now you want to lock me away so you don't have to deal with me! Well go ahead, hit me, lock me up, but I'll never stop tryin' to run away from you fragging glitched, evil, meanies! I hate you! I fragging hate you!"

Bluestreak/Thing's vents heaved and he took a deep in-vent to get his cycling plant back in line. That should just about do it, now they would hit him and reveal their true colors… Bluestreak/Thing froze. Big, shiny coolant drops were falling from Prowl's optics and it stopped the mechling cold. He watched as Smokescreen stood to comfort the black and white Praxian, only to be brushed off. Prowl quickly scrubbed the tears away and excused himself from the suite. Bluestreak/Thing just sat there in shock until Smokescreen looked back at him with wounded optics. He steeled himself for the beating that had to be coming now, there was no way that such hurtful words would be let go.

Smokescreen did not raise a servo against him, but merely stated softly. "Prowl and I love you as though you had unfurled as our code-brother. We know your masters abused you and hurt you terribly, but that does not mean you get to be like them and hurt us. We want to help you heal, but that will only work if you decide you want to be healed."

Then Smokescreen left the room with the comment that he would be fetching the dark-cycle meal.

Bluestreak/Thing sat in silence. What had he done?! He had acted just like the Malevolent One and hurt the only mechs to ever offer him kindness. A family, a real family had been given to him and he had broken it! Now he would never be loved and never have a family. He really would be abandoned this time and it was all his fault. Bluestreak sniffled and began to weep for the precious thing he had lost.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-

There was an annoying beeping sound…

…

It was getting louder. So irritating…

…

Someone poked his arm and he batted it away. Five more kliks…

…

When the shaking started, Prowl's memory core finally reengaged and he jolted up from his desk. Had he really recharged there? From the aches in his frame the answer was yes. He shuttered his optics blearily and looked over at the mech who had woke him. He promptly stopped mid-blink. It was Jazz, obviously, who else bothered to check up on him in his office, but the black and white Polyhexian was polished up like a noble's consort. It was… disconcerting. And it had stirred something within Prowl that he was hesitant to examine too closely. The opportunity to stare at the shiny saboteur was removed when the shiny mech leaned into his face and tapped his chevron.

"Yo Prowler, ya 'wake now?"

Of course he was, his optics were lit and he was moving was he not? Although, it would likely help Jazz if he were to respond. Hmm, a diagnostic on his processors might be in order if he continued to function at such a slow rate.

"I am fully functional." He stated primly.

The shiny… Jazz backed off with an enormous grin and offered Prowl a servo up. The Praxian waved away the aid and stood by himself. "Is it time for the ornly meeting?"

"Yeppers Prowler." Jazz said as he danced out of the office. "When ya weren't at ya quarters Ah figured ya'd be here, n' Ah kno' ya need ta get there earleh ta set up so Ah rushed ova' ta wake ya."

The dancing was very distracting as it made the light slide over Jazz's curves in all the right ways… No, not logical Prowl! Jazz had no idea that Prowl loved him and it was not fair to the Polyhexian to think such thoughts about him. Prowl tamped down on his emotional subroutines and began to discuss the pre-meeting duties with Jazz.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-

It was always odd to see Jazz sitting behind Blackshot along the wall of the conference room. The position was generally filled by the department's TIC, but Jazz was unknowingly being groomed for Helm of Ops, which necessitated the irregularity. Prowl was still curious about what story Blackshot had fed the saboteur to make him think his inclusion was normal because Jazz was still completely unaware of his heir status. The only reason Prowl knew was because somemech had to be there to support the transition and protect the saboteur from political usurpers, though he was forbidden from protecting Jazz from physical deposers. Apparently, it was tradition for new Ops commanders to earn their position by right of energon shed, so barbaric.

As Optimus Prime entered the room Prowl put away his observations and cued up his reports for the orn. The stately mech did not take his seat, but addressed the assembly from the door. "My friends, a great tragedy has and is befalling us."

The mecha in the room shifted with alarm.

"Last orn the Decepticons attacked the Halls of the Manganese Mountains, and using an unknown weapon, melted them to slag."

There were audible gasps around the table.

Optimus slowly traverse the room to his chair at the far end and continued. "Lord Spineback issued orders for the complete evacuation of the under-cities as soon as the attack began. Unfortunately, due to the suddenness of the invasion and unprecedented success of the weapon, only a small portion of the minibot population survived. Barely ten thousand managed to get to the safety of our outpost, though I have been informed that even that remnant would have smaller had it not been for Prince Goldbug's insistence upon waiting for cover of darkness to make the trek. Our base is not equipped to handle so many civilians and we need a plan, gentlemechs, on how to house these refugees long-term."

There was silence as everyone processed the news and its accompanying orders. The comm lines then lit up as the various department helms began tasking their mecha and acquiring suggestions. Predictably Prowl should have been first, but this time Blackshot, with a lot of help from Jazz, beat him to it.

"Prime, my mecha could easily get the minibots to Iacon using the deep level tunnels. I have conferred with ElitaOne on the matter and he has wholesparkedly pledged his femmes as guides and protectors."

Optimus nodded. "That is most admirable of them, but would not the movement of such a large group endanger their own hidden status?"

Before an answer could be given, the conference room door slid open to allow ElitaOne and his fellow Queens entrance. They arrayed themselves at parade rest before the table, each a specimen of dangerous beauty and quiet lethality, and the White Queen addressed the Prime. "We came as soon as we heard of the tragedy. We offer our aid to you however you determine we may best serve."

Blackshot was surprised to see them, they had previously sent notice of absence for this meeting due to an emergency mission to retrieve the last femme resistance group in Decepticon territory. The Prime also was aware of this, but gave no indication of it as he nodded his thanks to his oldest friend.

"Thank you my dearest Queen. The questions remain though, can you safely escort such a large number of mecha through the underground without revealing your existence to the Decepticons?"

"Foh safeteh's sake we's gonna take ah minimum ah two groups over two different routes." Answered Chromia. "Our intel says that thah 'Cons still got no knowledge ah thah deep levels, bu'betta safe than sorry."

There were murmurs of agreement to the caution from most of the table and Optimus opened the plan to general discussion. Ironhide expressed a desire the check over the femmes' arsenal to make sure they had the best weapons for what could be close quarters fighting. Wheeljack offered his entire vault of dangerous toys and explosives for their use as well. Then Red Alert insisted that all the minibots be subtly interviewed for the presence of Decepticon spies as this would be an excellent method for inserting a spy into Iacon. Ratchet asked if Goldbug's youngling should be removed from duty for a period of grieving for his grand-sire, but Blackshot denied the request, it would leave Jazz's team crippled at a time when every team would be needed fully functional. Bumblebee could grieve when this was over, he was Ops, he would deal and quite possibly become even more deadly than he already was.

When no further improvements could be found and the necessary resources tasked Optimus Prime dismissed the femme commanders to their mission. Then he asked for input on the next issue. "Does anyone have suggestions for where we can house them and how we will care for them?"

Prowl looked up from his contemplation. "Lord Prime, if I may, I believe I have a solution."

Optimus motioned to him to indicate that the floor was his.

"We will send them off planet." Prowl announced, it did not go over well.

"Naw wait just'a flippin' klik!" Ironhide exclaimed. "We cain't just send away ev'ra refugee group that comes'tah us an' scatter 'em amongst thah stahs! Mech's'll stop comin' tah us if we do!"

Prowl acknowledged the outburst as valid, but he knew what was coming if they did not follow this course of action. "Your concern is sound, but new intelligence submitted only recently by Special Operations has revealed that Megatron's new campaign is, in fact, designed to systematically eradicate the neutral and Autobot-supporting populations of Cybertron. He intends to drive the survivors to us to keep us so overwhelmed that we cannot stop him. If we send the incoming groups to hidden settlements across the galaxy we can keep them safe and out of Megatron's servos until such time as it is safe for them to return."

The room was quiet as everyone contemplated that this was not going to stop anytime soon, but would soon engulf their entire planet. It was not what anyone wanted, they wanted to end this war swiftly, and for a while they thought such a goal was in reach. Now it was clear that there would be only a decimated planet and survivors scraping to rebuild a destroyed civilization. Prime's countenance said it all as he grieved, what kind of beings were they that they would bring themselves to their own destruction. Megatron would not have peace however, and it would be negligence at best if they allowed him to rule. He would be a brutal dictator and the suffering of Cybertron would only be worse. What a choice was before them, fight to eradication, or submit to a tyrant. The agreement to Prowl's plan was swift after that sank in.

When it came to Ratchet's turn to vote however, "This idea of yours is all well and good for the victims. But what about the citystates he hasn't attacked yet? Are you just planning to leave them to the Cons' tender mercies?"

Prowl turned to face the perpetually grumpy medic. "I do have a framework for a plan of action, however, in order to refine and implement it I require more information." He turned to Blackshot. "If at all possible, I need the list of cities Megatron plans to attack next along with any knowledge about the weapon used on the Mountains."

Blackshot nodded and glanced back at Jazz who acknowledged the notice for a post-meeting mission briefing. It was bad timing for the saboteur's Courtin' Plans, but war superceded all else at the moment.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Blackshot entered his office and motioned Jazz to the last open chair. Bumblebee and Mirage had already been summoned and were waiting for them. Therefore, the briefing could begin without delay.

"Congratulations mechs. You just won first class tickets to Kaon. Your objectives are simple: get in without being seen, hack the Decepticon mainframe, destroy the weapon, and get back here with minimal damage to yourselves and maximum damage to the 'Cons. Are these objectives understood?" Blackshot stated with a gauging look.

"Loud n' clear, sir." Jazz replied for the group.

"Excellent. After we finish here, Jazz, I want you to confer with Prowl so the entry and exit plans are perfect. You're in charge of the mainframe so go see if Wheeljack has any new hacking software. Bumblebee, you are in charge of terminating the weapon, but you're not going to have Mirage as back-up so choose some support staff. Mirage, you will be covering Jazz and the exit route so you get you to choose back-up too, but not your lovers. They represent too much distraction at this point in your courtship. Any suggestions for secondary goals?" Blackshot would lay a framework, but it was up to his mechs to personalize it.

"I'd like to get some tracer tags from Ratchet." Bumblebee suggested. "If I can dart a few of the 'Cons we can get a more complete map of the Kaon base."

"A few delayed-action virus darts would probably not hurt either." Mirage added to the small assassin.

"Ah have always wan'ed a crack at Megs' personal terminal." Jazz said with an unholy grin. "Think of tha juicy details he must have stored on there."

Blackshot mentally added those ideas to the mission parameters. It drove Prowl nuts that Ops never had any mission reports, but for the safety of the operatives it had to be done this way. When the ops commander heard Jazz's wish he applauded the lofty desire, but put a restriction on it.

"You may only attempt Megatron's terminal if all the other objectives have been cleared and the exposure risk is under ten percent." He gave the saboteur a firm glare to reinforce how serious he was concerning these strictures.

Jazz nodded with an unrepentant grin and Blackshot sighed in exasperation. Jazz would be the deactivation of him yet. "Alright ya hooligans, get out of here and get ready to leave at first light."

Jazz and Bumblebee scampered out like the younglings they would always be, and Mirage followed at a more respectable pace. Just as he was about to cross the threshold Mirage looked back and said, "I never did thank you for making me a permanent sparkling-sitter."

Blackshot's laughter followed the trio all the way out of Ops' territory.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-

It had been four orns since Bluestreak/Th… no, he was just Bluestreak, he had to remember that. It was all he had left of his family, the one he had ruined before he realized what was being offered to him.

It had been four orns since Bluestreak had blown up on his trine and Prowl still was not talking to him. The black and white would come in way late after Binaura had set, just about the time when Smokey was putting him to berth, and just watch sadly from the berthroom door until Smokey tucked Bluestreak in. In the morning Bluestreak would be woken by Prowl gently stroking his helm, but as soon as he was awake Prowl would move away without a word.

It hurt Bluestreak's spark, but he knew he deserved it. He felt lucky that Prowl still wanted him even though Bluestreak had been so mean to him. Bluestreak had spoken with Smokescreen at first light this orn, it was so very hard to pull together the courage to do so, and Smokescreen had not punished him for it. The older Praxian had hugged him! And all Bluestreak had said was 'Good morning'! Bluestreak had cried at the loving kindness and apologized profusely for being like his bad masters. Smokescreen had nuzzled his helm and told him that he was forgiven. Then they had the most delicious first-meal, as a family, or at least most of one. If only he could have Prowl back too.

This thought dwelt heavy in Bluestreak's meta the whole orn and he decided it time to do something about it.

Which was why he was sneaking out of the suite one more time. Bluestreak made sure to leave a note on Smokescreen's chassis so the psychologist would not worry when he awoke from his nap. Bluestreak walked towards the busy part of the base like he did last time. He was planning to ask someone to show him where Prowl worked, but someone found him first.

A shiny white and red mech with pretty flashing horns came careening around the corner and stopped in front of Bluestreak.

"What are you doing out here alone?!" the odd mech screeched. "Don't you know it's dangerous to wander around here alone?! I told Prowl you needed a better caretaker but did he listen, no! And now I'm having to deal with the constant breaches in security!"

The mech gasped. "It's a plot. He's working for the Decepticons, I just know it!"

Bluestreak was scared, but he was more scared for Prowl. Prowl was going to get in trouble and it was his fault, again! He desperately patted the mech's shin guard to get his attention. It did not take long to do so, and once he was completely sure the mech was focused on him, he spoke.

"When I ran away a few orns ago I was very mean to Prowl. I hurt his feelings and now he is always sad around me. He had always been so nice. No one has ever been nice to me before, you know. So I have to make him feel better so we can be a family again. I've never had a family so I didn't know they were so breakable. But Smokey says our family's not really broke, just cracked. I think if I apologize to Prowl I can fix the crack, make Prowl all better, and maybe he will want to be a family again." Bluestreak took a deep in-vent. "The only problem is I don't know where to find Prowl, and I can't ask Smokey to help me cuz then it won't seem like I really mean it and I do mean it. It's important to be sin-sincere Smokey said, cuz it proves you really mean what you say or do…"

The white and red mech mech held up a servo to stop the flood of words. "If I help you get to Prowl will you promise me to never leave your suite again without a chaperone?"

Bluestreak cocked his helm at the suddenly calm mech and noted that the pretty horns were not flashing anymore. He did not think it was possible to calm down that quickly, but whatever luck got him to Prowl, he would take.

"I promise!" he said earnestly.

It meant that Bluestreak would be stuck inside most of the time, but it was a small price to pay for having a whole family. He still could not believe that he had gotten so lucky. Other mechs had families, but little Thing had never been special enough to have one.

The white mech knelt down to Bluestreak's level. "Okay. Then this is how we'll do this."

-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Trailbreaker and Hound stood on the landing dock. In front of them were two giant crates with their names on them.

The problem was that neither of them had ordered anything, particularly not something from off-world, but the manifest was not faked. These deliveries were for them from… someone. The only clue would likely be found in the contents of the crates.

Finally gathering himself up, Hound pressed the six-digit code included on the manifest 'pad into the lock screen to open the crate. Trailbreaker, not to be outdone by his lover, did the same. The boxes transformed away and the contents left them both in shock. Hound found himself the recipient of a stunningly beautiful pair of cyberwolves, an ancestral species of the cyberhound thought extinct for at least a hundred thousand millennia. Their metallic coats were well polished and their sleek frames spoke of meticulous attention to their health. An included datapad listed them as a mated pair and detailed their care instructions. Hound was in love, they were the best present he had ever received!

Trailbreaker's box was slightly smaller, but still held something just as spectacular. It was a biomechanical tree! It was half as tall as the defensive tactician with a thick trunk and fantastically droopy leaf fronds. The whole thing pulsated brightly with biolights all up and down the trunk and fronds. Trailbreaker's care datapad indicated that the biolights' colors could actually be changed depending on the types of minerals he fed it. The black mech was ecstatic, it was the kind of thing he had only ever dreamed of possibly having, but never had he expected it to become a reality.

It was during their gleeful babbling to one another over their presents that they discovered who had given them such wonderful gifts. Trailbreaker had happened to wave his datapad in the direction of Hound's wolves at just the right angle for the scout to spot the tiny identifying glyph on the back.

It was Mirage's.

They both stopped and frowned. How were they supposed to properly thank their beloved spy when he had just left the light-cycle before?

They both grinned evilly.

Let the plotting begin.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Prowl's doorwing twitched.

Ever since Red Alert had dropped off his security report Prowl had felt like he was being watched. It made no sense, there was no one in the room but himself. A blinking yellow notice at the bottom of his HUD alerted him to low fuel levels and he sighed. Low energon levels made him prone to sensor ghosts. To alleviate the issue Prowl picked up the energon cube from the corner of his desk and took a deep draught.

He froze mid-swallow.

He had not brought any energon with him this morning and neither had Red Alert dropped any off. His meta immediately began spinning theories of assassins and he cued up Ratchet's comm line in hopes that the medic could get there before whatever poison was in the energon had time to act upon him. However, before he sent the emergency transmission Prowl looked down at the spot the cube had appeared on and noticed a tiny pair of servos gripping his desk edge. There were also a pair of nervous looking optics peaking just over the servos and Prowl recognized his littlest trinebrother. He swallowed his mouthful of fuel and got up from his desk. The elder Praxian circled around until he could crouch down to be optic-to-optic with the gray mechling.

"Bluestreak?" Prowl asked. "What are you doing here? And where is Smokescreen?"

The small youngling took a tremulous intake and explained. "Smokey's still 'charging. I left him at home 'cuz I wanted you to know I was sin-cere. I almost got lost trying to find you but a nice mech with shiny horns found me and showed me the way. He said that I couldn't come without an offering and that energon was best 'cuz you don't fuel enough. He, his name is Red Alert by the way, took me to the rec room, and I got to meet the Prime! He's big. But Red got me a cube for you and then let me sneak in behind him when he came to see you. He said I had to be real quiet and wait for your wings to start twitching and then I could give you your cube. Why did he want me to wait until your wings twitched?"

Prowl had no idea how to reply. His mechling had just gone from completely solemn silence to cheerful chatterbox in the space of just a few orns and he had no idea what to do with that. He quickly picked out a single point of the overflow of words before his logic center could focus too much on the incongruence.

"Wait, what were you trying to be sincere about?"

Bluestreak's faceplates heated up, he had explained everything and still forgotten to apologize. "I'm sorry for being mean to you Prowl. I hurt you with my words and made you feel like I used to when my masters were around. I don't want you to hurt like I did and think that no one will ever love you. You are awesome, more awesome than I deserve. I'm just a worthless Thing but you gave me a family anyway. I want to be your Bluestreak and I'm sorry for messing that up."

Prowl did not say anything, but scooped up the mechling in a tight hug. Bluestreak could hear the bigger mech's spark pounding and snuggled closer to the reassuring sound. He had previously thought the bond-snuggles during his time in stasis were the best ever, but Bluestreak found himself to be very wrong. Real snuggles were so much better.

When Prowl finally began to speak Bluestreak was almost in recharge in his arms. "From the moment I met you, there was never a time where I did not love you. Even when I thought you hated me, I loved you. That fact will never change, and because of it I forgave you the moment you said you hated me. I was simply waiting for you to want me."

Bluestreak smiled so big his faceplates hurt. "So you'll be my family again?"

Prowl smiled softly. "I never stopped. From the moment my spark touched yours until the end of all time I will be your trinebrother. Nothing can ever change that."

Bluestreak's joy tripled within his spark and filled him so much he thought he would burst! He was so happy he began to cry for all the times he had not been this happy. He felt Prowl hold him closer and move them to the chair for better comfort. Then he started babbling, pouring out all his hurts in one fell rush.

"I don't know what to do, I never had a family! No one wanted me, and I was alone, and Masters said I was nothing but a charity case. That I should be thankful for their pity. They were so mean to me. They used to lock me in closets if I spoke and one time they tied me to my berth cuz I was humming the night before and they left me there for a whole orn and I lost feeling in my servos and pedes and when they did let me go I could barely move! And that was just what the Spiteful one did! I hopped down the stairs of their house and accidentally made too much noise and the Mean one kicked me off the landing and I broke my wings and they had to call the medic and the Mean one slapped me and said I should fall better next time and then they told the medic I tripped and he believed them and they called me Clumsy Thing for decacycles. And they deleted my name! I had one, a real one, and I know they deleted it cuz I found the empty spot and it had jagged edges so I knew it was deleted and not nat'rally empty. It hurt too much to think about so I just pretended that Thing was my name until I had it imprinted in my memory cuz it was easier that way and at least I had a name that way."

Prowl listened to his mechling and rocked him back and forth. It hurt to hear how his little mech had been treated, but he would never even dare interrupt or stop him. The benefit of letting Bluestreak verbalize his abuse far outweighed Prowl's mental comfort.

They would sit there for joors.

Every1's Beta: you know, you are seriously full of good ideas and my plot bunnies are growing. Also, hope the drama bomb was good enough, I think I may have been a little to angsty at times.

canikostar99: I thought about writing that scene, but it did not quite fit (author secretly stashes idea away for Sidestories).

nique17: a Sideswipe surprise indeed. Also, I never thought about it, but it really was sort of a girl-talk moment wasn't it.

Guest: oh thank you so much for the laugh, I dearly needed that. =)

squidgy: well, sadly the cliffhanger will not resolve until chapter 8, but I'm glad you liked it.