Silverstorm became aware that he was awake very slowly. His entire body felt different than before, and there was an ache that reached to his core. He lay very still, thinking back on what had happened.

After they had pressure-cleared that large vein, Primus had gotten a large burst of energy, and he'd insisted on performing the surgery to alter Silverstorm's form so that he could become a flier. Preparations had been quick. The last thing Silverstorm remembered was a wash of dizziness and a flush of heat through his veins as Primus smiled at him.

Now he was awake, and he felt entirely different from before. A soft finger pressed against his neck, feeling for a pulse. Pipes spoke to somebody.

"He's looking better," he said quietly.

"I think so, too. He looked off yesterday," Mirage replied.

"Shouldn't he be awake?" Red Alert asked. "Primus said it would be only a few hours, and he's still asleep. It's been two cycles."

Silverstorm slowly registered that they were worried about him. He needed to make a noise, move, let them know he was okay. But was he? His entire body ached fiercely. Fighting through the resistance of his muscle cables, he shifted and groaned. The concerned murmuring went silent, and a strong hand slid into his own.

"Prime? Are you awake this time?" Mirage asked.

With a monumental effort, Silverstorm cracked his optics open to stare up at Mirage's concerned face. Mirage gave a cry of delight.

"He's awake!"

There was a scramble of movement, and he was suddenly surrounded by his younglings, who were beaming at him. Mirage squeezed his hand gently, and Silverstorm let out a hiss of pain. At once, Mirage relaxed his grip on his hand, but he didn't let go.

"Sorry. Primus said you'd be in pain."

"He also said my patient needs energon as soon as he wakes up," Pipes said. He disappeared from above Silverstorm. There was a noise and then Pipes reappeared. "He needs to sit up. Somebody help him."

"This is going to hurt, Prime," Mirage said, wincing.

Silverstorm swallowed then offlined his optics as Mirage gripped one arm and Blurr gripped the other. When they pulled him up, his vocalizer let out a yelping whine such as he'd never heard before. His body felt limp and strange, and his vision narrowed to a slit as he gasped for air to cool his suddenly hot systems.

"Easy, Prime," Sunstreaker said. "Easy."

"Lean him against the wall and keep him propped up for now," Ultra Magnus said from a short way away. "He looks ill. Let him breathe before you give him his energon or you'll be wearing it."

Without a single complaint, the younglings obeyed. Mirage and Sunstreaker hovered on either side of him, ready to catch him if he slid one way or the other. Pipes sat down beside him, perched on the edge of the berth so he wouldn't accidentally bump his Prime.

When the sickly hue of his optics faded and they were mostly blue again, Pipes guided Silverstorm in drinking a quarter cube of medical-grade energon. It wasn't his favorite form of energon. He preferred mid-grade most of the time, and high grade on special occasions. But medical-grade energon was stuffed full of nutrients that promoted healing and wellbeing, so it was useful, though it wasn't very tasty.

When the contents of the cube were settling in Silverstorm's fuel tanks, he swallowed and spoke for the first time.

"How did it go?"

"Complete success," Pipes responded at once. He plucked up the datapad with the information on it, scanning it with his sharp optics. "There were no complications. But it exhausted Primus. The surgery took four days of nonstop work, and he's resting in the temple, but we can call him if there's an emergency. He stated that he hasn't performed this particular type of surgery in a long, long time, but from what he remembers, you'll have to relearn how to do pretty much everything."

Silverstorm grimaced briefly then chuckled. "Again," he said. The other younglings laughed. "Well, I did it once, I can do it again. Is there a program I'm supposed to follow?"

"He gave me a few exercises that should help get you started. But for now, you're berth-ridden. Sorry, Prime," Pipes said.

"Hey, that just means I get to have company," Ultra Magnus said brightly. He held up his half cube of medical-grade energon in a toast. "Welcome to the medbay, the most boring place in the world."

Silverstorm chuckled again then looked down at his hand. He could see it and feel it, but it wasn't like it used to be. He tried to flex his fingers, and they twitched. A nauseating ache filled his spark, and he had to clench his jaw shut to keep the energon inside. He was sure his optics had gone white when his younglings looked alarmed. Pipes leaned forward and pressed his fingers to his throat again.

"Too high. What did you just do?"

"Tried to move my fingers," Silverstorm muttered.

There was a pause. "Just your fingers?" Mirage asked, dismay in his tone.

"Yeah. Just my fingers."

"Well frag," Sunstreaker said simply. "That's not good."

"It's what I was told to expect," Pipes said grimly. He faced Silverstorm. "No moving. At all. You need to heal for a few more days before you even try to move."

"Okay," Silverstorm murmured tiredly.

There was a soft knock at the door of the medbay, and everybody turned to see the fliers. Silverbolt scanned the room then walked in, followed by the rest of the Aerialbots.

"You look horrible," Slingshot said bluntly to the Prime. "What happened?"

"I tried to move," Silverstorm said dryly.

"Can't move but can talk," Slingshot said. "Slag. Almost perfect."

Silverstorm knew Slingshot well enough to know that he was only teasing. He smiled.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage. You can always leave the medbay if you don't want to hear me."

"Don't you go messing with him, Slingshot," Pipes said. "He needs rest."

"Mind if we sit for a while?" Silverbolt asked kindly.

"Too many people," Pipes said. "Some of you need to leave."

There was a grumble, but everybody left besides Mirage and the Aerialbots. Fireflight was clinging onto Silverbolt's arm, staring at the Prime with curious optics. Skydive took Sunstreaker's position, then there was silence for a moment. The Aerialbots watched Pipes warily. Silverstorm could tell they wanted to talk with him, but they weren't comfortable with Pipes being there.

"Pipes?" Silverstorm asked softly.

The blue medic turned at once. "Yes?"

"Could you go to the temple and get some reading material?"

"What would you like?" he asked.

"Something funny. Fiction."

"Twinster wrote some good comedy," Mirage said thoughtfully. "He's on the second floor of the library, third shelf to the right of the entrance."

"If you promise not to move except perhaps to lie down, then of course I'll get you some reading material," Pipes said. He turned to Silverbolt. "Make sure he doesn't move."

"Of course," Silverbolt said pleasantly.

With that, Pipes left. Now it was only the Aerialbots, Silverstorm, Mirage, and Ultra Magnus. The Aerialbots looked at each other then back at Silverstorm.

"How are you feeling?" Silverbolt asked compassionately.

"Hurts all over. Can't even move my fingers."

"Yeah," Air Raid said grimly. "We can relate."

There was a long pause then Silverstorm pursed his lips. "What do you mean, Raid?"

Silverbolt sat up straight, his fingers twitching nervously as he stroked his chest. "Can we confide in you?"

"Of course."

"I can leave," Mirage said. "But Magnus can't."

"You three are fine. As long as you don't go blabbing about it until we're comfortable with the rest knowing," Silverbolt said.

"Okay," Silverstorm agreed. "What's going on?"

"You chose to become a flier," Sky Dive said in his slow, deep voice.

"Yes," the Prime said. "And?"

"We didn't."

There was a long pause, and pieces began to stitch together in Silverstorm's mind. Mirage's expression was pinched in confusion, and Ultra Magnus sat up, staring hard at the Aerialbots.

"You weren't made to be fliers, were you?" Silverstorm finally asked.

"No," Silverbolt replied. "We were groundpounders, just like the rest of your younglings."

"What happened?" Mirage asked.

"Shockwave," Fireflight said quietly, staring at nothing. "He did what Primus did for you, only it wasn't as fast, and it hurt so bad. We almost died. A lot."

"It was bad," Silverbolt said, his voice taking on an edge. "But we survived." There was a pause. "He did other things to us, too. But we're not going to talk about that right now. Point is, we understand the kind of pain you're going through, and we'd like to offer our services and knowledge to you. If you need to talk or whine or just vent about what's going on in your head, just have somebody contact us."

A warm bubble of joy filled Silverstorm, and he smiled. "Thank you," he said softly. "That's very kind of you."

"It's the least we can do," Silverbolt said, waving his hand. "You took care of Fireflight when he was panicking, despite not knowing who he was or what was wrong. You made sure he felt safe, you had your medic help him, and you've given us a place to stay that's safer, cleaner, and better overall than the mines. We owe you a lot. This is our way of beginning to say thank you."

Silverstorm tried to nod, but a wave of nausea swept through him as his spark ached again. Silverbolt grabbed his arm and instructed Mirage to ease him to lie down.

"It's best if he's lying down most of the time for the first few days," he explained. "Except for intaking energon, he needs to be flat on his back. Tell Pipes that, okay?"

Mirage nodded, helping his Prime to lie flat. "Easy, Prime," he said. "No moving, remember?"

"Yeah. No moving," he said. "Just pretend I'm nodding at you, okay, Silverbolt?"

Silverbolt laughed. "Easy enough to do. Let us know if you need anything, Prime. Absolutely anything, even if we need to stay all night with you. We've been there. We understand."

"Thanks, Bolt."

The Aerialbots stood up and headed for the door. Silverbolt gave a friendly wave as he left, then it was just Ultra Magnus, Silverstorm, and Mirage. Ultra Magnus looked disturbed as he stared at the door. Since Silverstorm couldn't see his face, Mirage decided to speak.

"Is something wrong, Magnus?"

Ultra Magnus shrugged one shoulder, setting aside his nearly empty cube. "I can't believe they're alive," he said after a long silence.

"What? Why?" Mirage asked.

"Because they said Shockwave was involved."

"Who's Shockwave?" Silverstorm asked.

"A disturbed scientist who has no conscience and no emotion. They say he's a psychopath. He joined the Decepticons as soon as he could, and Megatron promoted him to his lead scientist. He's performed some weird and awful experiments on mechs. Most of them died. If what Fireflight said was true about Shockwave experimenting on them, it's a miracle they're alive. Frankly, I'm afraid of what he did to them that they're not talking about."

Mirage glanced down at the prone Silverstorm, and their optics met. The way Ultra Magnus talked about Shockwave, his tone full of disgust and fear and anger, let them know that he was not to be trifled with. The experiments sounded more like torture than anything else. Was that why Fireflight was so spacey, so weak and afraid? Had Shockwave tortured the Aerialbots with his so-called experiments?

Silverbolt couldn't help but think about what Sky Dive had said. He had indeed chosen to be a flier, had willingly chosen to go through the nauseating pain, relearning to walk and move, and all the rest that would come with turning into a flier. But they hadn't chosen that, yet they were all fliers. They had experienced the nausea, the pain, and even the humiliation of not being able to take care of themselves, and none of them had chosen to do so. If they were admitting that Shockwave had done all of that to them, what were they not talking about? Silverstorm wanted to find out, but he'd let them take it at their pace. They'd had enough of being forced to do things, that was for sure.