"I'm a fan. Big fan. Bit of a stalker you could say! Ha-ha-ha. No, joking. Hope you don't mind me shaking your hand for a few moments."
"Er- Not at all. Nice to meet you."
"Hey, Crosscut- Who was that little three fingered guy?"
Swerve ducked down behind the bar faster than a turbo fox chasing a petrol rabbit. With his cheeks flushed he reached for under the cabinet, fumbling at an array of different bottles, til he came in contact with… Ah-ha! The triple distilled engex he bought off of Sunstreaker.
He popped off the seal with his mouth, took a big gulp, and groaned while covering his faceplate. He was going to offline from embarrassment. This was it. It was time for him to join the well!
That was just sooooo smooth! The smoothest! Who in the pits calls themselves a stalker?!
Apparently Swerve does! His cheeks grew hotter as he took another swig of the bottle. He shivered as warmth traveled down his intake to the pit of his stomach. Focus on that- the burning soothes.
His helm thunked against the cool metal of the bar as he hugged the nightmare fuel close.
He'd spent the entire war fantasizing their reunion. Now that the speedster was in his bar, drinking his drinks, Swerve ruined it by saying the creepiest slag. Primus, he hated his own big mouth. Everytime something good happens to him he wrecks it! Heh…like the wreckers.
Focus! Maybe he could ask Brainstorm to invent a new thingy to permanently cease his talking? That would be nice. No more blabbering about uncomfortable topics because the sound of silence is so freakin unnerving. Wait- no.
That would just be a gag. There was no way in hell he was going to ask Brainstorm for that. That would make things waaaay too awkward even for him.
Swerve took another long sip. Why was he like this? He was unlikeable, annoying, and only one step above being worse than a corroding t-cog. At least those were something a doctor could remove! He blinked away the frustration tears forming behind his visor.
"Swerve? You alright buddy?" Skids asked, surprising Swerve, as he leaned over the bar.
Swerve scrambled to wipe away any stray tears, looking away from his best friend in an attempt to save some face. Too bad Skids knew him better than that.
The theoretican noticed. Skids jumped over the counter so he could crouch right in front of Swerve. Frowning, he handed him a spare rag from the bar. Swerve took it with no complaint.
"I saw what happened," Skids admitted as he quietly took the bottle of high grade away from Swerve.
Swerve laughed. "Yeah. That was terrible. I think I won the new record for creepiest bot on board."
Skids frowned, "That's not true. I think Cyclonus still has you beat- Mech sings like a banshee."
That got Swerve to smile a bit. A real one- not one rehearsed to keep up appearances. Nah, with his buddy Skids he felt like he could be genuine. Maybe, it was because Skids was always sincere around Swerve.
"Okay, fair. But I'm at least runner up," Swerve said, wiping away some stubborn optical fluid.
Swerve watched as his friend re-sealed the nightmare fuel and placed it off to the side. Skids then turned his attention back to the mini bot. He gave him a contemplating look before smiling.
"Sounds like you need a mulligan."
Swerve paused, "A mulli-"
"Yes, a mulligan. A do-over. That first time shouldn't count. You weren't ready." Skids said it like it was obvious.
A sinking feeling took root at the bottom of his tanks. He leaned away from his friend not liking where this was going. He was half tempted to snag his liquor back in preparation.
Skids, as if reading his processor, hid the bottle behind himself. "I'm being serious, Swerve. That wasn't indicative of the real you. It was a spoof- and it happens. Come on, let's go together to smooth things over." Skids said, offering him a servo to help him up.
Swerve cringed. "The real me isn't much better," he said, taking his friend's hand anyway.
"Nonsense, you're great! And if he doesn't see it then it's his loss. Plus, Swerve, you're one of the funniest mechs I know, and between you and me- Blurr enjoys a good laugh."
Hopefully the laughing wouldn't be at him. Swerve sighed standing up to his full height. He searched the bar to find where Blurr was then looked back to Skids. The theoretican beamed at him in victory.
"Come on, it's Swerve and Skids! Skids and Swerve. We got this together buddy. Let's go!" Skids said, looping his arm with the minibot's and pulling him in the direction of the racer.
Swerve could feel his spark rate increase tenfold as they made their way to the booth. Skids, bless his spark, opened up his EM field to help calm Swerve's down. His composed presence was like a soothing balm to his anxiety.
Swerve, so focused on staying grounded, was surprised by how quickly they reached the round booth. Crosscut, who was sitting next to Blurr, paused his conversation as they approached. Blurr looked over at them with newfound interest.
"Hey Skids, who's your friend?" Crosscut asked, leaning into his seat.
Oh, they apparently knew Skids. Swerve really shouldn't be surprised- Skids is a very lovable guy. It made sense. It just never occurred to Swerve that his bestie was close to his idol. It never really came up in conversation. Small universe.
"This is Swerve, my amica. Swerve, these two are my friends Blurr and Crosscut. Swerve here is a big fan and I thought it would be a good opportunity to introduce you all to each other. Now, scoot over," Skids said so casually.
Swerve on the other servo was star struck. Not by the fact he was about to sit next to Blurr. No, he was stuck on the fact Skids introduced him as his amica.
Yes, they called each other best friends. It mostly was something Swerve started. But, to hear Skids say it with his full chassis made his helm feel light headed. In a good sort of way.
Dazed, Swerve gave them a little wave as a greeting. He slid into the booth first which sandwich him right next to Blurr and Skids.
He could feel his spark pounding in his chassis. Any moment now he was sure it was going to burst out and run away. If it did, Swerve would be jealous, because he too longed to make a hasty escape.
It didn't help that his knees were almost touching the racer's. He would literally die if they accidentally made contact. He didn't want to come across as a touchy weirdo, so he made sure to push more towards Skid's side.
"So, your amica huh? When did that happen? I thought for sure if anyone it would be Getaway," Blurr said, taking a sip of his drink.
Skids looked across the bar to where his fellow spec op resided. Everybody at the table followed his line of sight. Getaway was busy laughing at something Tailgate said. Then, in a not so subtle move, slung his arm across his shoulders. Swerve thought he was playing a dangerous game with Cyclonus nearby.
"Yeah, that's fair but Getaway has had his servos full lately- And between just the four of us, Swerve is more fun to hang with. And we got a certain ring to our names; Swerve and Skids," his amica said, holding out a servo in a grandiose gesture.
The bartender couldn't help but smile at that. Ha! In your face Getaway! He thought, Swerve is the better friend!
"Back at you buddy! It's not every day you befriend a mech willing to chill in the air vents to help prank people."
Skids laughed, "oh Primus, I almost forgot about that. I think Trailbreaker is still trying to get the lime green off."
Swerve playfully stuck out his glossa, "It's what he gets for not paying his tab."
Crosscut held up a servo, "Wait- Wait. You managed to paint Trailbreaker green?"
Swerve chuckled as he rubbed the back of his helm, 'Yeah-.. we did. Kind of feel bad about it. I didn't realize it would activate his barrier. It took him thirty minutes before the poor mech could wash it off. By then most of it had already dried."
Skids looked at them sheepishly, "Yeaaaahh, not our brightest moment. Definitely most colorful."
"Definitely Trailbreaker's most colorful." Swerve finger gunned at Skids.
Blurr snorted at the comment. Swerve whipped his helm in that direction surprised. His cheeks heated seeing the mirth that was written on the speedster's face. Blurr thought he was funny…!
"Swerve, that's awful!" Skids said but still laughed.
"Getaway could never," Swerve said playfully, nudging his bestie.
"Getaway could never," Skids agreed before turning his attention to his other friends. "Speaking of awful.. I thought we could break the ice by playing a game. Swerve, you still have that human game you were revising?"
Swerve paused in an attempt to recall what Skids was referring to, "..You mean, cards against cybertron?"
"Yeah! That one. Last time we played you almost gave Ultra Magnus a spark attack. It should be perfect for us".
That caught Blurr's attention, "What's that about?"
"Oh! It's um-" Swerve fidgeted with his servo, "it's a card game where everyone draws ten cards and then there's one prompt. The goal of the game is to respond to the prompt with either the most hilarious or messed up card you got. Here, let me-!" Swerve quickly dug through his sub space before finding the deck of cards. Victoriously, Swerve placed it on the table.
He started to shuffle the deck, only to be stopped by a warm servo, "May I?" Blurr asked with a devilish smile.
Blurr could do whatever he wanted if he kept looking at Swerve like that! He swallowed down those words and instead opted to mutely nod. He passed over the first stack of cards as he tried to keep his mouth shut.
"Ten cards you said? Here- watch this," Blurr smugly said as his servos began to move.
Frag, was it hot in here? It felt scorching to Swerve. Or was that just his face plate?
He didn't know. All he knew was Blurr moved so effortlessly. He watched, in awe, as the racer shuffled the cards like a professional casino dealer. He dished them out in a blink of an optic.
Swerve was too stunned to speak his thanks. The only higher function his processor allowed him was the ability to pick up his dealt hand. Primus, his mouth felt dry. He needed a drink.
"Uh! Next round of drinks are on me!" Swerve blurted out then deflated in his seat, even more flustered. "It'll make the game more fun. Hey! Ten! Bring us a round of the good stuff"
Skids rearranged his cards with a smile. "Awe, Swerve. You don't have to do that."
Swerve perked up a little, "What do you take me for? A bad host? Nah, my amica gets free drinks. So do our new friends."
Crosscut, who up to this point was pretty quiet, cheered. "Free booze? Don't mind if I do!"
Blurr flashed the bartender a smirk. "Remind me to return the favor when I reopen my bar. Now the rules of this game.."
Return..the favor…? The implications of going to the racer's bar made his spark skip a rotation. He was thankful Ten was quick with that drink request. As soon as it touched the table Swerve took his and took a sip to forget his shyness.
Blurr sat up and casually slung his arm right around Swerve's shoulders. Just to get more comfortable of course! Swerve forced his vents not to stutter as Blurr leaned in close to Swerve's bubble. It was super close… of course, it was just because he was curious about the rules of the game. That's all! Haha, no other possible reason.
Swerve tried desperately to focus on that, but the musky scent of engine oil transfixed his mind. Blurr smelled amazing.
Swerve hoped he smelled good too. Not that he should smell bad! Or uh he wasn't trying to be creepy. He just hoped Blurr felt comfortable being this close to him… Worse case he probably smelled like high grade. Maybe with a hint of energon goodie..
"So um! Me and Skids will do a practice round so everyone can get a gist of it. Alright! First prompt is-" Swerve pulled a card from the black pile, "What brought the orgy to a grinding halt?"
Of course that was the first card! Swerve brought his cube to his mouth to block his burning cheeks. He stole a glance at Blurr who glanced back with an amused smirk.
Skids thought for a second then placed down a white card. Swerve scrambled to pick it up with his clumsy fat digits. He dropped it once before quickly flipping it over.
"A rust infection", Swerve was the one who snorted this time, "hilarious and gross. Good one bud- But yeah, the game pretty much works like this. One person draws the prompt and chooses a winner. The other players play a white card to fill in the blank!"
Blurr hummed moving close, to the point their knees were touching, to Swerve. The bartender couldn't control his sharp in vent this time. He tried covering it up with a fake cough.
"Excuse me- dust got caught in my intake," Swerve lied, while trying his best not to accidentally touch Blurr more.
Crosscut looked from Blurr to Swerve then took a sip of his drink. Swerve got the impression that the ex-senator knew something that he didn't. What that could possibly be was beyond the minibot.
"Since Swerve did the practice round I'll go next, and we can go clockwise in order. Sound good?" Skids asked, already inching a servo towards the black deck.
The entire table all individually made sounds of approval. Skids grinned flipping over the card for everyone to see. His optics brightened.
"Help Ratchet! I got _ stuck in my aft!"
Swerve smirked knowingly, "What's up your Aft- weeelll…" Swerve smacked down a white card.
Blurr, somehow, beat him to it. His card was already in front of Skids. Swerve blinked, amazed at Blurr's speed. It made him feel better that Crosscut was taking longer to pick.
"Okay, let's see what's up my aft port," Skids said, shuffling the cards around. "Up first is- Help Ratchet! I got scraplets? Stuck in my aft! Pff, it's the question mark at the end that gets me. Next! Help Ratchet! I got a fusion cannon stuck in my aft port!" Skids wrinkled his nasal ridge. "Hard pass. Lastly- its… Oh for the love of-Swerve, Really?"
The minibot grinned like a mad mech. "Go on! Read it-" Swerve said between laughs.
Skids face palmed. "Help, Ratchet! I got a data slug stuck in my aft. Swerve-"
The minibot laughed so hard he snorted. Skids rolled his optic but still threw the card in his direction. Swerve caught it then gave him an apologetic but not so apologetic smile.
"Okay- what's the story behind that?" Blurr asked, taking the winning card from Swerve's servo.
Skids huffed nudging Swerve, "it was supposed to be a hypothetical between friends"
That forced Swerve directly into Blurr's side. He stiffened at the touch, panicked, then promptly froze as the speedster smiled down at him. For a full second he was lost in the racer's cyan optics. Oh no, Blurr was gorgeous.
"Go on?" Crosscut encouraged, staring at them.
Skids crossed his arms. "Swerve asked hypothetically would I shove a data slug up my aft to sneak it out of decepticon territory."
"In my defense! You asked me hypothetically if I would do the same. We both agreed- a million times yes. It shall be called the mighty aft quest," Swerve said proudly.
That earned another chuckle from Blurr. "You two shoving stuff up your aft ports often? And what would you use as lube? You're behind enemy lines."
At this point the shots of nightmare fuel had fully integrated into his system. Swerve was feeling good. Good enough his mouth was starting to loosen.
Swerve blushed before puffing out his chassis proudly. "Blurr, I am willing to do anything for the autobot cause. My supple port would be proud to take one for the team. Right Skids? And what I do behind my habsuite doors is between me and Primus"
"Primus regrets our existence buddy with this conversation. But yes, for the aft quest, we are prepared to do our duties as autobots," Skids snorted out before taking a swig.
Crosscut snagged a card next with his own chuckle, "Alright, aft holes. The next one is 'What are my creators hiding from me?'. A little lame…"
Blurr, like last time, put his card down first. Skids took his time before neatly placing his next to Blurr's. Swerve couldn't decide between two cards so he yeeted the one closer to Crosscut at him. It flew for about half a second before landing on the table.
"Okay, first one is- Wrecker erotica. Number two- SHOCKWAVES MISSING SERVOS!" Crosscut blurted out with a hard laugh. That one earned a good giggle fest before Crosscut continued. " -The frag is a teenage mutant ninja turtle?"
Swerve sheepishly grinned, "Sorry- still haven't changed all the human cards out. It's a TV show"
"Ah- Well, I'm going with Shockwave's servos. That's awfu!l" said the ex senator.
Blurr chuckled, "Thought so- give it over."
"Don't you mean hand it over?" Swerve blurted out before he could control himself.
Smirking, Blurr took the card, then vocalized a rim shots sound at Swerve. Ba Dum Tish! The metallurgist placed a servo over his beating spark then stared up at the speedster. No one had ever done that before.
"Okay Blurry, you're up." Crosscut stated while finishing up the last of his drink.
The mech winked at Swerve before turning his attention back to the game. For a brief second Swerve thought he was going to crash- or at least reboot. He couldn't believe that just happened.
Blurr eagerly flipped over his prompt, "When all else fails I can still self service to _"
It suddenly felt ten degrees hotter in the bar. Swerve plastered on a polite smile and tried his best to reign in his mouth before he blurted something inappropriate out. He didn't want to ruin this again.
"What does cybertron's fastest mech jack it to…let's see.." Crosscut said while rubbing under his mask as if he was thinking about it.
For a moment Swerve tuned them all out so he could focus on his cards. What would be funny while at the same time not a creepy answer? There was one card he'd been saving… Maybe he should play it now since it was a safe bet.
Something must have happened because when Swerve looked up Blurr was flipping the playwright the bird. He wasn't sure what exchange he missed but he could have sworn Blurr's face looked a bit…pinker.
Skids glanced at his amica with this smug look on his face before placing his answer down. Crosscut did the same. Swerve was feeling a bit alienated since it felt like he wasn't included in whatever was going down. He pushed the feeling back and played his card.
Blurr straightened up in his seat. "When all else fails I can still self service too… Blurr's racing career. Pff, I'm confident not a narcissist. Rodimus on the other servo…"
Swerve blushed since that was his card. He thought it would be funny to play it on Blurr's turn. In retrospect it did come across as an insult. He shriveled up in the booth a bit.
Blurr must have mistook it for a shiver. "Are you cold? Here-" the racer cuddled up next to Swerve. "My frame always runs on the warm side. Might as well share it. That any better?"
No words could form in his mouth. All he could do was dumbly nod at Blurr and melt into his side. He sat there, cuddled into his idol, like it was a normal thing to do. Swerve didn't know how he hadn't exploded from the excitement bubbling in his chassis.
"Good- Let's see, next card is- When all else fails I can still self service to- Plump valves," the racer rolled his optics then glanced at Skids.
The theoretican feigned ignorance by focusing his attention on the inside of his cube; he was in the middle of trying to fish out the energon goodie garnish with his straw. Swerve watched, curious, since Skids wore this smug smile.
That left Crosscut's card. Blurr picked it up in a slow deliberate manner while watching the playwright. It was like he was daring the ex-senator to do something. Crosscut, on the other servo, didn't appear to be bothered. He held the racer's gaze with this challenging look in his visor.
"When all else fails I can still self serve to-...Crosscut, I'm goingtofraggingkillyou. Didyoureallyputthatdown?!"
Swerve leaned in close to take a look at the card.
"..Minibots?"
Blurr quickly moved the card out of his line of sigh. "Ignorethat. Crosscutisjusttryingtomakeyouuncomfortable!"
Swerve didn't quite get it. Why was Blurr so upset by a clear throw away card? Crosscut probably just picked it because it was the only decent one he had.
"I'm not uncomfortable?" Swerve said, still trying to wrap his processor around the issue.
Laughing hard, Skids placed his servo on Swerve's shoulder. "You'll figure it out buddy. But first- Hey Crosscut, let me show you the cursed engine room I told you about!"
Crosscut was already getting out from the booth. "Sounds good. Let's see if it's really haunted."
Swerve frowned looking at the cards then at his friends that were leaving. "But Blurr hasn't picked a winner yet-"
The speedster smacked the minibot cards face down with a bit too much force. "Crosscut wins. Therenowleavebeforemypedegoesupyou-"
"Have fun you two~" Crosscut said, smirking.
Swerve caught a hold of Skids servo, suddenly feeling terrified of being alone with Blurr, "W-wait! You're coming back right?"
Skids paused, turned around, and then smiled at Swerve. All color drained from Swerve's face as the once bright face of his amica was grayed. There were cracks littering his frame- And his sunny yellow optics were black inky voids. Swerve jerked back like he was burned.
"S-skids?" Swerve whispered.
"You got this buddy. I'll check in on you soon!" Skids whispered, gentle as always, and let go of his servo.
Swerve watched helplessly as to what to do. He turned to ask Blurr for guidance only for all the air to be knocked out of him. That wasn't Blurr- No, he was cuddled against the charred remains of an unrecognizable mech. Protoform was melted into armor, his faceplate metal framing was exposed, and his brilliant cyan optics shattered from the internal temperature. Swerve gasped, ams lurched away from the racer in a panic.
Blurr smiled. "Guess it's just the two of us."
What was left of the speedster reached over to cup the side of Swerve's face. This-! This wasn't supposed to happen. Blurr wasn't supposed to be-!
Swerve shut his optics tight. Wake up-wake up-wake up! He chanted over and over again in his processor.
Rodimus Prime stood tall, with a sparkling sling strapped to his chassis, and a new spark drooling on his autobot insignia. He cradled Veer close as he paced along the corridor that led into the bar. His spoilers fidgeted, a nervous tick, as he redialed Swerve's commlink again. He still got nothing.
"Come on Swerve-!" Rodimus vented out in frustration.
It had been an hour since the crew discovered that their beloved bartender was missing. Rodimus had called off the game once they realized Swerve had been using his holoform. It went from a ship wide game to a search party in the matter of seconds.
Rodimus thought for sure Swerve was simply in his room lounging in his berth. He had assumed maybe the little guy was just having a depressive episode- which happens to the best of them! Rodimus just wanted to make sure he was okay.
However, Cyclonus, Tailgate, and Whirl went down there. There wasn't any sign of their friend. In fact it looked like nobody had used that room in a while; the berth was neatly made, there was dust collecting on shelves, and the air apparently smelled stale.
That's when Rodimus really started to get worried. If Swerve hadn't been staying in his room with Veer then where in the pits was he projecting his hologram from?
Rodimus looked down at the sleepy new spark, "Veer, do you know where your carrier is?"
The bitlet let out a big yawn before snuggling close to the speedster's chassis. Rodimus sighed as he cradled her very close.
"Adorable, but not useful…"
That's when his own commlink crackled to life. He answered the phone immediately- Not bothering to check who it was.
"Swerve?! Is that you? Where have you been?" Rodimus blurted out.
"Wrong bot, Rodimus. But I do know where he is" Ratchet's cranky voice grumbled.
"O-oh, yeah. I knew that.. So, where is he docbot?"
"In the medbay, with me, resting. At least now he is. Dumb aft passed out after his holoform was disrupted."
"The medbay?! Why-" Rodimus began to yell but lowered his voice when Veer stirred. Why is he back in the medbay?"
Ratchet sighed deeply, "His welds opened back up after the sparkling shower. He's supposed to be on berth rest until the patches fully assimilate with his protomesh. The kid couldn't take that sitting down. So against my sound medical advice Swerve thought using his holoform would be an acceptable substitute. Maybe you can talk some sense into him."
Rodimus paused his pacing, "His welds reopened…? Why didn't he… "
"Because he's an idiot," Ratchet mumbled.
Rodimus knew their medic didn't mean it. He was just as upset about Swerve as Rodimus was. They just-...already came close to losing the minibot once. They didn't want to lose anyone else.
Rodimus rubbed his now tired face, "I'll call off the search and be there in five clicks. I'll see you then Ratch."
Rodimus ended the call before the medic could argue. Right now, He didn't really care if Swerve was allowed visitors. Him and Rodimus had a lot to discuss.
When Swerve onlined his visor he was back in the medbay. He looked around but was too dazed to really absorb his surroundings. It all looked like sterile white nothingness except for-
Energon? He looked at his servos to find they were coated in the pink substance. Where did it come from?
Swerve looked down at his frame only to discover a gaping hole in his abdomen. It was pouring out energon, covering his legs, and the chair he sat in. He touched it in disbelief.
Then he remembered. He had a sparkling- That's right… She punctured his gestation chamber on the way out.
Swerve watched as it gushed more pink liquid out. His white armor was unrecognizable. It painted his thighs similarly to the day at the bar…
Where was his sparkling? She wasn't in his arms like she was supposed to be. Nor was she lying in a nearby crib.
That's when the silence was broken. He could hear a pain filled cry in the room. It was accompanied by the sound of buzzing medical equipment. It was unnerving.
They were sounds of agony- yet they came from something much smaller than a mech. His sparkling!
A heavy sense of dread filled his spark as he took it in. A tiny, clear box, strapped to the brim with different medical equipment. To Swerve it looked like a small tomb. Swerve was overcome with the need to sob as he got closer to it.
He knew what was inside. Swerve didn't want to look, but felt compelled to. He reached over, pressing his servo to the glass, as guilt boiled out of him.
Nestled in the middle was a swaddled new spark. Her frame heaved as it struggled to get cool air into her over taxed systems. Swerve covered his mouth as he watched her continue to cry. Seeing her like this made his spark wither in his casing.
"In all likelihood she won't survive the night. I'm sorry Swerve, but prepare for the worst." Ratchet's voice echoed in his audio receptors.
And it was all his fault. Swerve was careless when he was sparked. He was going on stupid and dangerous adventures, he neglected his frame to the point of near deactivation, and he was so stressed from all the losses they endured. All were things Veer had to pay the price for.
Now, barely a cycle old, his creation was fighting for her life. Her frame couldn't cool down as quickly as she heated up. Ratchet was pumping copious amounts of coolant in her lines to prevent overheating. Swerve could only watch and feel her pain through the creation bond.
It was maddening. Deep lined coding demanded he scoop her up and provide comfort. He knew better than to do that, yet his arms twitched at his side in restraint.
He knew from the minute he held her-something wasn't right. Her protoform was too brittle, too weak for someone her size. She was sick. She didn't deserve this. He did. He was the one that should be suffering.
Those thoughts were drowned out by the sudden warmth touching his chassis. Confused, Swerve looked at his sparkling, then around the room for answers. There wasn't anything physically there that could be causing it. Then his frame started to jostle around in his seat. It was powerful enough that it caused his chair to titer back and forth. Then he gasped flying backwards in his chair.
Swerve optics flew open, disoriented, he grabbed a hold of the thing shaking his frame. It took a moment of blinking away the recharge before he could focus on what he was holding. It was a bright red servo.
".. Rodimus..? What are you…?" Swerve croaked out.
The captain was standing off to the side with a scowl cemented on his face. He tapped his pede against the hard floor in a steady fast rhythm as he stared down at Swerve. He looked seconds away from blowing up.
Swerve sat up, while still disoriented from the dream, to look at Rodimus, "You're..mad? Did…I do something?"
That stopped Rodimus in his tracks. He clasped his servos near his chin, pressing two digits against his lips and inhaled. He then deliberately exhaled slowly.
"Yes. Care to explain why you were using a hologram to hold your new spark?!" Rodimus snapped.
Oh. That. Swerve rubbed his aching helm with a frown. He knew that this conversation was going to happen if he got caught. He had been hoping that he wouldn't. Stupid pounding processor.
"I will if you promise not to yell," Swerve said wearily.
Swerve didn't have it in him to deal with loud upset mechs. He could feel pressure right behind his optics from the helm ache. His limbs felt so heavy and he wanted to call Ratchet for some painkillers.
Rodimus took a look at him then sighed. "Fine-..I won't yell. But, Swerve, buddy. You look like slag. Are you…alright?"
Was he alright? Swerve brushed a servo against his scarred aching middle. He slumped in bed feeling his own simple touch light a fire of pain on those welds. He cringed but tried to give the captain a forced smile.
"I'm making it.'' Swerve managed to stutter out.
"Swerve, cut the slag. You just- hologramed out of the bar like the Swearth incident. You clearly are not fine! Physically or mentally!" Rodimus threw up his hands in frustration. "Please, as your friend- talk to me pal. Everybody is worried about you!"
The captain pulled up the chair next to the medical berth, and sat in it. Swerve watched, surprised he was sitting in it correctly, until he realized Rodimus was cradling Veer. His optics softened as he reached out to touch her. Noticing, Rodimus moved her sleeping form a little closer to Swerve.
"If not for me then for her," Rodimus begged while rocking Veer.
The guilt from his dream came back with a vengeance. He didn't mean to worry anyone. That was the entire point of the hologram! It was supposed to be a way to take care of Veer and still run the bar while he was out of commission.
That backfired spectacularly. Swerve was just beyond thankful he was holding a stupid tray of drinks and not his sparkling when he lost concentration.
His optics started to get misty the more he thought about it. She could have gotten hurt and it would have all been his fault. Just like when she was born…
Swerve reached over to hold her tiny balled up fist. She was safe. She was right here sound asleep thanks to his friends. He could hide the one stray tear that slipped under his visor to his cheek.
Swerve quickly wiped away the optical fluid. "I..didn't want to bother anyone."
Now all of the Lost Light was worried about him. He should prepare for more pitiful looks. He was getting tired of them. First time it happened was when no one wanted to be his roommate. He could hear everyone whispering and giggling about how pathetic he was. Not even Ultra Magnus wanted to bunk with him
Then after he accidentally shot that mech's helm off. The rumor for a while was that he did it on purpose. Who could frag up a hostage situation that badly? Swerve, apparently.
There were so many more incidents. His bar shutting down for bad engex, Pipes death, Swearth, Skids death, and now Veer's traumatic birth. Swerve was sick of tragedy following him. He just wanted to feel normal for at least one week! Just- he wanted to feel less fragile.
Rodimus frowned. "Pretty sure that did the opposite buddy. No offense, you handled it as well as Whirl djd when anyone mentioned clocks the first week of take off."
Swerve would have to agree. It was just- easier to fall back into old habits. It's what he always did when overwhelmed.
"That's..fair," Swerve admitted while admiring his sleeping daughter as a form of distraction.
Rodimus sighed, "You going to give me more to work with buddy?"
Swerve lower lip wobbled as a heavy lump formed in his throat. He could feel more stubborn tears making their way out. He knew the dam was about to break.
"It's just-.." his voice cracked, "I've… We're more hurt than I've led on. Veer had some complications, Roddy. "
That's when Swerve started to break down. The memory purge from his dream flooded his processor. She was so tiny and helpless.
Swerve thought she was going to die in that box. All because he didn't take care of himself. All because he didn't listen to his frame-
"I'm a frag up." Swerve sobbed out
Alarmed, Rodimus put a comforting servo on Swerve, "Whoa whoa whoa- Swerve, it's okay. "
"No! It's not! Rodimus, she needs daily injections-" Swerve wailed.
Rodimus frowned looking at Veer then at Swerve, "wait- why? She looks fine!"
That only made Swerve cry harder. Yes, she looked fine. They both did. But, that was far from the truth.
Rodimus watched on powerless with what to do. He grabbed the box of tissues on the end table and handed off a few to Swerve. The bartender took them and bawled into it.
It was like that for a few minutes. All the hurt, pain, and burden of this secret came bursting out of Swerve. It was like falling into the oil reserve and having to claw one's way out. It was violent and ugly.
There was a moment where nothing but the sound of broken sobs filled the room. Swerve hated himself for being so weak. Yet, here he was, crying in front of the captain more than Veer ever had.
Rodimus let him do it. He didn't force the bartender to explain. He just let him get it all out.
Swerve was thankful for that. He didn't realize how much of a burden he was carrying until now, with his spark spark stripped bare, his optics puffy from weeping, and his chassis hurting from strain. He needed all of this pent up pain out.
Swerve sniffle and looked away. "I'm sorry."
"Swerve, Primus, don't be. It's clear you're hurting- in more than one way. Don't ever apologize for your feelings." Rodimus said, setting the tissue box off to the side.
"I know, I know- Rung always told me not to self isolate-..." Swerve paused to think about what he said. "Rung…"
"Who's that?" Rodimus asked curiously.
"I'm not sure- he was there during the swea- Never mind, it does really matter. What matters is he's right. I did that self isolate thingy again. And I really shouldn't have."
Rodimus hummed. "Have to agree buddy. I mean- how can your friends help you if we don't know what's wrong?"
Swerve sighed then touched his battered abdomen. "That's fair. I just-...it's hard to admit when you're scared."
Rodimus looked to the bartender's stomach then looked to Veer, "Why don't you tell me about it so I can help. We got this together buddy."
Swerve sighed at those words. He gave the captain a sad defeated smile before leaning back into the medical berth. He rubbed his tired optics under his visor.
"Veer punctured a hole in my gestation chamber. She's technically premature, which has caused its own set of issues, but yeah…Ratchet had to go back in there and patch it back up. It was fine but I pushed it too far at the party. The original patch job reopened. It's not too bad but it hurts like the pits." Swerve admitted looking at the ugly welds.
"Veer though.. as I said before- she needs injections. Daily coolant to keep her core temperature at a consistent level. See, she has a racer frame. They tend to run hot. The issue is her internal systems didn't develop fully. Maybe with time it will be something Ratchet can fix- but as for now.. those injections are the safest option. It's-...it's why I used the holoform. Someone needed to take care of her."
Rodimus frowned, then crossed his arms. "I could of- hell anyone on this ship would have gladly helped. Swerve, I still don't get why you would use the holoform."
"Because in less than a week there won't be a crew! I won't have a million servos offering assistance. It will just be me and Veer!" Swerve snapped before curling up on himself. "I need to be used to handling it all alone."
There was a moment of silence where neither bot said anything. It was true though. Swerve was going back to Cybertron all alone. There weren't going to be friends available to help. The quest was over.
"What if I told you that isn't necessarily true?" Rodimus said with this smug grin plastered on his face.
Swerve blinked, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Swerve old buddy, pal, friendo. I missed the Ibex Cup to talk science magic with Percy and Brainstorm. How would you, and my cute co-captain, feel about hopping universes?"