So- Picture this! A minibot walks into a bar. He wakes up seeing double! It was a classic zinger bots that had been spewing for centuries. Unfortunately for Swerve, and let's be honest, all the patrons of his establishment, he took the joke way too literally. Now, here he was with a fresh out the forge minibot in hand.

It was a good joke! A funny one! But, he might have to add it to the list of permanently banned phrases since it might induce a ptsd episode within him. Damn, they just shorten it by finally removing 'clocks'. He was really proud of Whirl for that one. Then he had to ruin it by adding his own.

Swerve slumped in the uncomfortable chair provided by the fine staff of the medical bay. How was it possible that one chair could cause such strife within his aching frame? It was like they hired Brainstorm to invent furniture as a new form of a torture device. The uncomfortable pain it provided would cause a bot to go insane.

Swerve shifted in the seat once more in vain before giving up. If he moved anymore he was likely to wake up his latest wacky new adventure- A living breathing sparkling!

Man, he sucked at picking quests. Creator Hood was not even in his top twenty list of quests he wishes to partake in. Nah, it wasn't even on the list. It was more of a foreign concept all the way across the galaxy than anywhere near his processor.

Yet, here he was, cradling the Lost Light's newest member to date. Newer than even sweet naive Tailgate. Which, in itself, was kind of impressive. He didn't think it was possible to know less than their sweet sweet ex- waste disposal bot….

Swerve couldn't help but wonder if this would land him a Rodimus Star. It was just- he did some many 'firsts' with this traumatic experience. What an absurd thought. Swerve's processor was stuck on stupid thoughts like that lately- Such as his crotch was the Lost Light's first ever slip n slide. Or that Rewind could probably make funny compilations of everyone's shocked faces at the bar. Hell, for a brief moment he could have been considered a hat.

..

Yeah, some of his thoughts were more cursed than others. He really couldn't help it though. Since his mouth couldn't run a million miles per hour, because it risked waking his newspark, he was left with the dark echoes of his own processor. A horror he didn't wish upon any other bot…

…

…..

….

Once more the sounds of medical equipment filled his audio receptors. It was the only sound in this way too quiet room. He needed a distraction. Something to keep the reality of the situation from swarming his processor.

Swerve shuttered his optics as more intrusive thoughts bubbled to the surface. He was for sure going to be featured on the Lost Light's Insider. Great. It wasn't like he was recently featured not even a week ago for surviving the mutiny, then the week before for the holographic earth incident. Or for the bad engex… Yeah…

He sometimes wishes it was physically possible to die of embarrassment. He'd be six feet in the grave by now with that list. Sadly, Ratchet reassured him that it wasn't possible. Maybe with Brainstorm's help he could make a ray or something...

Swerve sighed feeling frustrated at his own processor. There were better things to focus on instead of an embarrassment ray. So, what if the entire ship saw your fun hole stretched wider than an elastic band around a watermelon? It happened to the best of us.

..Yeah right! He was never going to live this moment down. What's worse is he's clueless on what to do.

Ratchet told him he could start by naming the poor thing. He couldn't keep going around calling her an 'it' or 'bitlet'.

What an excellent idea! Swerve, master of goofy names, now having to name a living cybertronian. Primus, that was a horrible idea. He didn't have the spark to tell Ratchet that he named his bar 'Swerve's', not because he was some type of narcissist, but because he couldn't think of anything that wasn't a blatant rip off of Cheers! Now he was expected to bestow a worthy name onto his surprise creation.

…You know things are slagged when briefly he considered letting members of the Lost Light pick out the new spark's name. The only reason he scrapped that idea was because mechs were inputting joke names like 'Whirl Jr', 'Racer McraceFace,' and 'Sparkeatter 9000's'. That was on him. He should have known better than to ever trust these afts with the naming of anything. Let alone his bitlet. None of them could take it seriously. None of them except for maybe-...

Skids. Skids would have helped him pick out a good name. He'd probably have been one of the first bots in line to visit them. Swerve could almost see it- That big blue doofus with a vile of innermost energon in one servo and a cute little plush for the new bit in the other. He'd laugh saying he took on sewing last night just to make it. It would be such a Skids move to pick up a new hobby and master it in one night. That is-if he was still alive.

He missed Skids. He missed Skids more than he would ever let on. That bot was the spark of the ship, their moral compass, and the best friend Swerve ever had. Yet, like with anyone who becomes too close to him, he died. First it was Ironfist, then it was Pipes, and now Skids. Best friends were hard to come by, yet so much harder to keep.

Grief was a hard thing for a bot to deal with. Yet, it followed him around like a bad case of rust. It ate away at one's spark until they were nothing but hollow on the inside. Swerve wondered if he'd ever feel whole again. If only the ship had a psychiatrist of some kind. Maybe then he'd feel better about the friends he lost.

..Swerve turned his attention to the warm frame nestled against his chassis. She was sound asleep with one servo pillowed against her helm and the other tucked away in her swaddle. Swerve was a bit jealous; she was fast asleep, unaware of her carrier's worries.

That was fine. After such a rough start to life Swerve thought she deserved a good rest. At least this way Swerve had the chance to really take in her presence.

He admires the cyan blue plating of his daughter's small frame. It matched that of her sire's yet at the moment he couldn't help but compare it to his best friend's navy blue. Deep in his spark he hoped that his sparkling could grow up to be like him. Friendly, brave, and a good soul. A fantastic soul that gave his spark to save his friends.

…Skids, he now realized, saved more than just the Lost Light crew. His spark dropped to his tanks. Skids save her life. Not only that, he saved it more than once. Skids was the one who found him out of his mind, slowly wasting away in his habsuite during the Swearth incident. Actually, doing some more mental math it was all likely that Swerve, timeline wise, must have been sparked by the time they were trapped on the Necro World. The DJD could of ripped his creation straight out of him and played with her corpse like a puppet just to torture them. They could have snuffed her light out before it even had the chance to shine. A new fresh wave of grief washed over Swerve. Once more, he was so thankful towards his friend.

..He couldn't thank him. He didn't get the chance before he'd heard Skids join the well of the all spark. But, in his own way, Swerve would use this opportunity to show how much his friendship to Skids meant. He was going to name his beautiful new creation after him.

Skirt? No, that sounded like human clothing. Skids? That seemed too direct… Swerve and Skids. Skids and Swerve…What sounded good together? Skwids? ... No, Swerve was pretty sure that was an animal... Maybe he should combine their meanings? Okay, let's just break it down Swerve.

His name meant to 'change direction'. Skids' meaning was rather similar. Kind of- it involved movement. What words involved moving?

Swerve thunked his helm against the edge of the chair thinking of names. He wanted a name that would really coincide with that, while giving remembrance to his buddy. She really did change the direction of his life. No, she veered his course. Veer. Yes!

"You're gonna be named Veer!" He cheered then right away cringed as she stirred in his arms.

Yeah, maybe he shouldn't wake the baby. That was dumb. But, he couldn't help it. The name was just perfect- It was a name that would make Skids proud! He hoped somewhere out there in the great cosmos his bestie was smiling upon him. The legacy of Swerve and Skids would live on! Now as the famed 'Swerve and Veer'.

Swerve wiped away a stray tear from under his visor and grinned. Yeah, the quest of creation wasn't up there on his list but now he was going to make the most of it. If not for himself then for that blue son of a gun looking down at them. Once it was safe for him to drink again, Swerve planned on toasting to it.

A knock on the door cut his little celebration short. Swerve straightens up expecting for Ratchet to come in to give him another long winged speech about self care and the wonders of birth control. What he wasn't expecting was for one of the co-captains of the ship to walk in. He was at least thankful that it was Rodimus and not the scary ex-warlord.

"Hey buddy, uh, how are you two feeling?" Rodimus asked slowly, sauntering over.

"Oh! Uh-", he looked down at his sleeping daughter then back to the speedster, "Not bad for showing off my goods to the world. Achy as hell but Ratchet says it will go away with rest. Veer, here, is a little worse for wear. She'll make a full recovery with the proper attention."

"..Veer? That's her name?"

"Yeah…Thought it was nice. It fits her," Swerve said in a very hush tone.

Rodimus grinned then whipped something out of his subspace, "Well, then I'm happy to announce that Veer here has won a Rodimus Star for Lost Light's most adorable little stowaway!"

Swerve choked on his own saliva for a moment. He double take at the miniature size golden plated star Rodimus had in fact- really got custom made. He was joking about receiving one but apparently the Captain took it to spark.

"Rodimus that's-"

"Awesome? Fantastic? The coolest thing you have ever laid your optics on? Yes, all of that is true. That is why,with pride, I give it to you, and your sparkling. Congrats buddy. You earned it after…all of that."

Swerve cringed. Yeah, okay, he definitely was the talk of the ship if Rodimus came here himself. What a lovely thing to have swimming in his processor after such a nice moment. He sighed inwardly but outwardly accepted the gift with his free servo.

"Thank you captain, we really appreciate it," Swerve said with a plastered smile.

"Yeah not a problem buddy. I thought you could use a pick-me-up after everything. But, uh, there's actually more I want to talk to you about."

"...Okay?"

Rodimus straightened up his posture, which wasn't a good sign since that meant he was serious, and then hiked his spoilers up. It was the 'Rodimus Prime means business' look. Aka Swerve probably wasn't gonna like anything his captain was going to say.

"So uh- Here, before we get started let me just," Rodimus grabbed a nearby spare chair and flipped it so he could sit in it facing the wrong way. Swerve swore he did it just to mess with Ultra Magnus. There was no slagging way that position could be comfortable in these stupid chairs. He had no idea why he felt like doing it without the big blue present.

"Now!", Rodimus flashed them a wicked smile, "let's get down to business!"

"..To defeat the Huns?" Swerve lamely offered since his spark really wasn't in it.

"Wha- Oh yeah, from movie night. Ha! Nice. But, jokes aside, this is dead serious. Swerve, buddy old pal."

Swerve cringed ready for whatever horrible thing Rodimus was gonna ask for him. Since their captain had a habit of getting him into hot water- like blowing off a mech's helm level of hot water.

Rodimus inhaled, "When do you think you are going to allow visitors because I'm pretty sure there's gonna be another mutiny if bots don't see you and littlest you soon. Mags literally had to restrain Whirl. He was yelling something about seeing Whirl Jr, which I'm glad to hear isn't her real name. Though, uh, I gotta say names aside you really scored big because she looks exactly like-"

Swerve flushed and threw his free servo up to stop the speedster from finishing that sentence. Rodimus leaned forward in his chair with a knowing smirk. He shot him finger guns then followed it with the chanting of 'Awe yeah, get it buddy'.

Swerve groaned, "it's not Blurr-!"

"Swerve, hate to break it to you but I never mentioned who, and secondly she looks like a xerox copy. Like, Swerve, your forge could be mistaken for a printer. Just look at her! She even has the cute pointy helm crest"

Yeah, Swerve was aware of that fact. He was sure that if they took a picture of her and showed it off to strangers they'd believe it was a sparkling hood picture of the ex-racer turned bartender. The only features that screamed 'Swerve' were the chubby little cheeks on her cute round face and the tininess of her frame. Well, and her features were less pointy than that of a speedster. That, however, might be something she'd grow into. Though Swerve couldn't help but imagine how cute it would be if she stayed this 'round'.

"..So uh- I'm guessing that he doesn't know since well- you didn't know. Do you want me to like… get Blaster to ring him up? After you feel better of course!"

Call…him? Swerve energon lines turned to ice and his spark started to thud against his chamber. His vents stuttered.

He hadn't thought about that. He hadn't even considered calling that mech till this very moment. How in the world would he even say anything? Uh, hey! Remember me? We fragged once or twice while all of cybertron was waiting for the big Megatron trail. Well, guess what! I might have accidentally got knocked up and had no idea. Hope you don't mind.

Yeah, no. There was no way that was going to fly. At the same time he couldn't just ignore the problem. You can't just not tell a mech he's now a creator…could you?

Ha! Yeah, this all rides on the fact he even could just easily call up famous speedster Blurr. Let's just take a look at the engraving on his servo- Whoopie~ it's too short. Maybe he should try the other fake number? At least that one isn't like a bad tattoo forever reminding him that he's a good frag but a lousy conversationalist.

"Swerve-Swerve! Breath, hey. It's going to be okay- look..uh," Rodimus rubbed the back of his helm, "I know this is none of my business but Blurr and I go way back. Would you like me… to be there? Maybe help you smooth things over?"

Swerve shook his helm, "No- wait..maybe yeah? I don't know.. "

The bartender deflated in his chair. Blurr might actually pick up if he was under the impression someone else was calling. But, at the same time it made him feel like a creepy stalker.

"Hey Swerve, if it's too much right now we can talk about it later. No pressure, alright? Just.. keep in mind I got your back buddy. We all do. Alright?"

That was..oddly sentimental and nice to hear. Swerve studied the captain's earnest face. It was the most sincere look he ever saw Rodimus have. Swerve felt his spark throb from the wave of mixed emotions that gave him.

Sometimes he forgot that there were bots on here that considered him a friend. Swerve realized that Rodimus was part of that group of people. It made him feel less alone.

"..Thank you, for real. I'll probably take you up on your offer. Believe it or not, commlink calls give me anxiety. Maybe.. after you help me introduce Veer to the crew, can we try?"

Rodimus grinned like a mad mech, "Aw hell yeah. Let's show them our newest member! I'll get the banner ready!"