Twisted Glimpse

by ForgottenAlias

A sequel to Word's Unspoken. We see Soundwave and Rhea's relationship grow as she slowly adapts to a Cybertronian body. Earth and Cybertron are allies and old prejudices are fading. But if everything is looking up, who is Steven? A military man seemingly unconnected to our familiar Bots who is haunted by nightmares that slowly start to seep into the waking world.

21. Chapter 21

Author's Notes: Welp, this was one heck of a long writer's block for me. Sorry for the sudden unexpected hiatus, here is hoping it is now a thing of the past. To attempt to make it up to you, we have a very long and also eventful chapter today. LOADS of stuff goes down so buckle up. And I have a few warnings to go with it!

CONTENT WARNING: We have officially arrived my people. At the end of this chapter, there will be sexual content, and not just an intimate conversation between characters or that fading to black before it gets good crap. It's happening! That being said, to maintain the lower age rating for this story, I have assured there is absolutely nothing sexually graphic during this scene, I am very careful with the language I use to keep it from being too "mature" so if you are put off by vulgar vocabulary regarding sexually explicit content, then fear not, I've got you covered.

And with all that said, it's good to be back! Please leave a comment sharing what you think and as always, enjoy!

---

Date: Present day, September 30th 2021 3:00 a.m.

Steven

The pain dragged on longer than it ever had before. Red glowing eyes glared down onto him, and he struggled and tried not to scream as the unbearable heat threatened to cook him from the inside out. Half in this nightmare, half in the waking world. He could feel the contradicting coldness of the table he was strapped to, and his blankets as he kicked them off the bed. It took so much effort, but he managed to break out of the nightmare.

He fought the urge to puke. He sat gasping on the edge of his bed, wallowing in his sweaty sheets until the fog totally lifted from his brain. The sleep pills he got from the doctor made the nightmares worse. All it accomplished was keeping him locked in sleep, making it almost impossible for him to escape his nighttime tormentors.

He drank what was left of the stale water from his nightstand. He was still groggy, but he was calmer. He cycled through a few deep breaths. He inhaled smoke. Not enough to choke, but the presence of any amount of smoke at three in the morning was cause for alarm.

Fire. Was the house on fire? Why wasn't the kitchen fire alarm going off? He hurried to his feet, still dizzy from the medication dragging him down. He wobbled past his stubborn gun safe and into the hall. He stopped in his doorway. The changing note. He couldn't let that burn. It was the only clue he had to whatever the hell was going on in his life. He hurried back and snatched it from the nightstand, stuffing it and his cell phone into the pocket of his pajama pants before hurrying back out.

The kitchen light was on, and it made the smoke more obvious. Pots and pans were clanking about. He stumbled into the kitchen to find his new roommate Ben struggling to suffocate an open flame on the stove top. One of Rhea's Southern Cooking books was open on the counter, but its contents were forgotten as Ben quietly cursed to himself.

Steven snatched a pot lid from the cabinet and slammed it onto the pan, successfully smothering the fire. Though it was too late to save whatever the charred remnants Ben was trying to prepare, it had at least kept the house from going up in flames.

Ben blinked at him. He was still shaken. But then he saved his ego with a crooked grin, "So, as it turns out, I can't cook. Had to at least try."

Well, that was something the two had in common.

Steven shut off the stove without a word and then walked over to the kitchen closet. He opened it, then pointed to the fire extinguisher, "For future reference," he grumbled, then shut the door again. He was still groggy thanks to the meds, but he had the foresight to glance at the wall above them. The fire alarm was suspiciously absent. He found it on the kitchen table next to Rhea's laptop. It had been unhooked, and even the backup batteries were removed for good measure.

Steven slowly whirled around on Ben with an annoyed grimace.

Ben smiled awkwardly, "I was afraid it would wake you, and it wouldn't shut up."

Good to know he had been so drugged out of his mind the blaring alarm didn't even rouse him. In a way, tonight's round of nightmares were well timed. With a sigh, Steven went to the coffee maker and started brewing a fresh pot. And he made enough for two people. Like he did when Rhea was here. It was a nice feeling.

The nostalgic experience was short lived as the smell of burned who knows what wafting in the air reminded him Rhea was definitely not here. She didn't burn food. "Can I ask what possessed you to take up the culinary arts at this hour? Was tomorrow to far out?"

Ben chuckled and started to attempt cleaning up his extensive mess. "It had been on my mind, sort of. I wanted to see if it triggered any memories."

He wasn't looking at Steven. He was being evasive. "Did it?" Steven asked.

"Nope. In fact, I may have even less memories than I had before starting," Ben joked, "I'm sorry I woke ya though. That's not a very nice thing for a house guest to do their first night visiting."

Steven poured himself a cup of coffee, then offered a cup to Ben. He left room for the young soldier to add to it. Steven left his black. The more caffeine to counteract the effect of the sleep meds, the better.

Ben thanked him brightly despite the ungodly hour. He was up in a flash to rummage in the fridge for milk to add to his coffee. He poured out almost half of the cup's coffee back into the pot, so he had more room for milk and sugar.

He sat down at the table alongside Steven, who had already started nursing his coffee. Ben added three scoops of sugar to his mostly milk drink, stirred it and took a sip. He wrinkled his still sunburnt nose and then added another two additional scoops. That seemed satisfactory.

"I really don't mean to be nosy," Ben hummed behind his cup, and he sounded uncomfortable to even start the topic. Steven had a sinking feeling what he was going to ask. "What was that magic note you had in the bar?"

Steven tapped the side of his cup. Staring at the table, desperately not wanting to explain this insanity to anyone. But for reasons that still eluded him, Steven had allowed Ben into his house. And Ben said 'magic' note. So, the kid witnessed the note change. He was in this now.

If he had seen the note change, that meant Steven wasn't totally crazy. There was something to this, he just had no idea how it was possible.

With a heavy sigh, Steven retrieved the note he had shoved into his pocket when he thought the house was burning. It was well worn to this point, having been bent a hundred times and carried in pockets and wallets and shoved into dressers and even the trash a few times.

This time, it was totally blank. No hint of the words it held only a few hours earlier. Not even eraser marks. "I don't know what it is. I found it under my gun safe the morning Rhea went missing," Steven admitted.

His brain was screaming at him not to share this mind melting story. If he shared, it would spread, and he would get kicked out of the military for his slipping mental faculties. But he carried on regardless. He was still hazy from the drugs, that was probably why. "When words appear on it, it looks like it's written in my handwriting. It told me to find you, and it was right. It is always right. I just don't know how…" He pointed to a pile of camera equipment shoved in the corner of the living room. "I assumed I was writing it, maybe in my sleep. For a week, I recorded myself sleeping. I didn't catch anything out of the ordinary, but it still changed. Then yesterday's event at the bar proved it wasn't me. Or at least, not-" he had no idea what he was saying. He put down his almost drained cup to rub at his temples. He was drinking the beverage too fast, and it was giving him a headache.

Ben slowly slid the blank paper across the short distance to look directly down at it. He poked it. Then he lowered his head to the table, "Hey," he whispered to the note. "Magic paper Steven, you hear me? It's your buddy Ben. You feel like talking again?" He waited on bated breath for the words to respond. Of course, it remained blank. Ben didn't appear disappointed. He seemed the patient type. "You'll have to help me out here, considering I don't recall crap. But does crazy stuff like this happen in the military often?"

"No," Steven growled in total frustration, "Usually, it is regimented and logical. That's how it always has been. In the past two weeks, the whole world seems to have just gone crazy," he glanced up from his tirade, and saw Ben looking at him with worry. He sighed, "Sorry. This isn't your issue. You go back to bed. I'll clean this up." He started to stand, but Ben was quickly shaking his head.

"Um, I'll help. Like I said, I couldn't sleep. In fact, I really don't want to go back to sleep. We're sharing stuff, right? Can I share something kind of crazy?"

Steven arched a brow at him, "Crazier than a magic post-it note?"

Ben shrugged. "Maybe. It's been kind of hard to sleep since you found me. Basically, every night since I woke up at the hospital, I've been having these, bad dreams."

Steven slowly sat back down at the table. He staired at Ben with a sinking feeling in his gut, but he didn't interrupt.

"In these dreams, I can't move. I think I'm like, a prisoner. And there are these monsters. These creepy tentacle faced things with glowing red eyes. And they are torturing me for information, but I'm in so much pain, I don't understand what they want me to tell them. The doctors at the military hospital gave me meds to sleep better, because they said it was probably just from my head injury. But the meds just make it worse. And since I can't sleep, it's like I am seeing these monsters in the real world. Crazy right?"

Steven could only stare open mouthed at him in total and utter shock. Ben was having the same nightmares. Both in the dream and waking world. The exact same nighttime torture from the same monsters starting the same exact day. When Rhea vanished.

What did any of this mean? He and this poor brain damaged soldier were mutually going crazy? Was that how Ben saw the words change on the note in the bar? They were both untethered from reality? He just didn't think so. He wasn't nuts, but something truly crazy was happening around them.

"Oh oh! Look!" Ben gasped, startling Steven almost enough to jump from the table. He looked down where Ben was pointing. The note had something to say.

'There is a crack in the barrier. She is trying to reach you, but now they will start reaching for you too.'

Very ominous. But who was the 'she' his little note self was referring? Could it be-

His phone buzzed in his pocket, again almost scaring him out of his skin. He dug in his pocket to retrieve the device. He intended to silence it, as he assumed it would be his Commander inquiring how his forced vacation was going. His house lights were on at three in the morning after his fire alarm started blaring for who knows how long. He was sure it woke up a few neighbors and they were sure to complain.

And that was the moment his heart almost stopped. The text message was from Rhea.

Steven stumbled to his feet and almost dropped his phone as he struggled to unlock it. Ben, the magic note, the nightmare monsters, everything was secondary. About a thousand things rumbled through his mind at once as he pulled up the text. Why was she texting and not calling? Should he text back, or was she in trouble and couldn't talk? Would calling now put her in danger?

With sweaty fingers he swiped open the message. There under his last correspondence with his beautiful girl was a new message.

'Are you receiving me?'

'Yes!' He typed as fast as he physically could. He trusted her. If she was texting, that meant she was not able to talk. He continued typing just as fast, 'Where are you, Rhea? Are you in trouble? Do you need to be picked up?'

He was shaking. His eyes unblinking as he staired at the little 'Rhea typing…' message on the screen.

'I am not Rhea.'

It felt like he was slammed into by a speeding train. His heart was now on the floor as an icy dread took root in his nervous system. Someone had Rhea's phone. That meant someone had her.

He was shaking again, but this time, it was barely contained rage and fear. 'Who are you? Where is she?"

He waited for the reply. It felt like forever, but in reality, it was probably seconds.

'Rhea and I are trying to find you, but we can't get through,' Steven hadn't even noticed Ben had long since gotten up and started reading over his shoulder. He only noticed when he felt a comforting hand rest on his back. Ben was trying to ground him. After the initial scare from the touch, he appreciated it.

'Please,' Steven begged, 'Is she safe?'

The stranger on the other end paused, but only for a moment before confessing, 'She is safe, but you are not.'

---

Date: March 12th 2021

Rafael

"There is no shame in asking for help," he explained for the third time since he arrived through the Groundbridge into the Kaon North Tower. But he got it, this was hard for everyone. Four-million-year enemies and now everyone had to pretend to be friends? It would be like calling up a few of his high school bullies and asking for their help getting a job interview. And that wasn't even comparable.

Even over his phone's speaker, he could hear Laserbeak's subtle grumble, 'On the contrary, there is a great deal of shame to partake in this decision.'

Raf shrugged once their elevator doors closed to transport them down into the depths of the Decepticon command tower laboratories. "Not like this will be the first time Ratchet and Shockwave have worked together on a collab."

'True, but he was our prisoner at the time, and that was a more dignified vantage point for our team.'

Raf snickered, "Well, isn't that why I'm here? Autobots wanted to see these abnormal Cybertronian body's the moment one is found lurking around Iacon. You guys won't authorize it unless you have collateral over the Autobots during their time spent here in Kaon, so I volunteer. That's reasonable…" he considered all that, then added with another laugh, "I mean, it's not reasonable, but it sure is what we decided on."

Laserbeak vented, 'Yes, I suppose it will have to do. Though I am not thrilled with an associate of mine being the collateral.'

"Love ya too, bud." Raf snorted, "But really, it's going to be fine."

The elevator doors opened, and Laserbeak carried on down the hall, Raf stepping right alongside him. The hall was dark, not a window in sight. That made sense, they were underground. Raf contemplated he should be at least a little scared. But he stood by his assurance aimed Laserbeak's way. It was fine. He had more faith in the bots than they gave themselves credit for.

The only thing that did make his stomach a bit queasy, was remembering this would be the first time in a while he had seen Shockwave. Treaty or not, he was always intimidating. Autoclave would be there, and of course Ratchet would be along. No biggy.

A reason he volunteered as the esteemed and temporary hostage, was because he was damn curious about these other Cybertronians with green oily blood. All Cons, but at the same time, not at all. It was odd, and Raf wanted to be a part of figuring it all out. Hopefully, before they appeared to stir up trouble at the Memorial that was literally only days away. This event was like, three Earth years in the making, they needed not to have it ruined.

Laserbeak stopped them at a large, sealed entrance way with a very impressive locking mechanism. But he was connected to the consol and had it beep its approval in seconds. The door unfolded out of the way, and the massive multi chambered laboratory of Shockwave was revealed. Raf was beyond excited to see the place Rhea had been building up for years. He also needed to keep his nerdiness in check.

They walked inside, or at least Raf did. Laserbeak was hovering in the doorway, watching the hall. Right, Outside Bridges couldn't open inside the laboratory. They couldn't open in a lot of places without Con Lord's approval. A security measure, or something along those lines.

And off topic… But damn it was cold. Hadn't Shockwave had time to install central heating between horror experiments? He wrapped his coat a little tighter around himself and carried on walking. The ridiculous chill aside, he couldn't help but peek around the inside of the first chamber. Dark, that wasn't shocking. But also, so, so many shelves and wall mounted screens all handling differing Cybertronian calculations. Tables with active experiments Raf couldn't see from his ground level vantage point. Would it be a strange thing to ask Laserbeak to let him ride on his back so he could see more?

'Outside access has been granted,' Laserbeak said out loud, either to Raf, or someone else via an open channel. And to Raf's disappointment, all the equations and theories on the screens blinked off. The tables and their experiments shifted away into the floor. They really did not want any of their intel ending up in Autobot hands.

'I am here to intercept,' Laserbeak confirmed as the last of the first laboratory's secrets was concealed.

In the hallway outside the lab, the green vortex burst open. Ratchet appeared from the light, the plates making up his face all repurposed into a very prominent frown as he clocked Raf on the floor. "Rafael, are you alright?"

"I've been gone for like, twenty minutes tops," Raf pointed out. Then smiling, he added, "And every minute they shocked be with a prod demanding Autobot intel."

"Very funny," Ratchet growled. He looked back as the Bridge closed behind him. He scowled at Laserbeak, "Lead the way."

Laserbeak bobbed in a small nod and zoomed inside the lab to join Raf at his side. Ratchet stepped in as quietly as he could, and the door closing still managed to startle him. Raf patted Ratchet's ped before they both followed Laserbeak further into the now very empty lab. The second chamber was just as cavernous, and they passed it by. The third door opened, and this time, there was someone there to greet them. Someone with one unblinking red optic.

"Doctor," Shockwave said to Ratchet in greeting.

Ratchet reciprocated with a stiff and very forced nod, "Thank you, for permitting us to study the abnormal specimens." he settled on saying.

Shockwave stepped to the side, allowing them entry, "it is a mutually beneficial exchange. We have discovered little in our time dissecting the specimens. A fresh perspective is warranted."

Laserbeak vented again, but he was ignored by all except Raf. Right, Shockwave had no qualms about bringing in reinforcements when it came to scientific endeavors. If he solved the problem presented, he didn't care much for how he got there.

"What have you learned so far regarding the odd Cybertronian remains?" Ratchet asked. His unease had waned considerably in the short time since greeting Shockwave. Science would be happening soon, so there was no time to be nervous.

Shockwave further led them inside the third chamber, "The specimens are conceptually similar to our biology in almost every way, save for a few notable exceptions," A room off from the main one was where they ended up, and unlike all the others they had trekked through, this had no hidden secrets. The lights were much brighter, holograms were projected around five elevated tables with five still Cybertronian bodies on each. And the room was not just occupied with the dead.

Autoclave glanced up from gazing into a large microscope, and he brightened. Starscream was also there, seated in the corner and appearing very bord. He looked up, and he groaned. Ratchet had the exact same reaction when he spotted Starscream. Rhea had mentioned Autoclave came to work in Shockwave's lab often, but Starscream always accompanied him, even when he was busy. Something about a turbulent history between them all. Raf could only imagine.

"So, we have fallen this low, have we?" Starscream scoffed, "Begging the Autobot's rusting relic of a doctor for help? How the might of my poor Decepticon's have fallen."

Ratchet made his usual irritated huffing sound, crossing his servos in a defensive fashion, "It is an 'honor' to see you too, oh esteemed Decepticon Lord…" he cracked a rare grin, "If I had known you would be here, I would have remembered to bring a medical kit. You always seem to be in the need for one whenever we used to bump into each other."

Starscream's aloof gaze turned deadly as he glared at Ratchet. Raf ended up slapping Ratchet in the ped to stop the banter just as Autoclave gave Starscream a light slap to the arm.

"If we could remain on task," Shockwave stated, flat as ever. If he had emotion, Raf was sure he would be irritated.

Starscream waved Ratchet away, as if banishing him from his presence despite neither of them leaving the room.

/We are pleased to have you, no matter what some may say/ Autoclave snickered in his false voice. It was very similar to the type of encoded speech Bee use to need to communicate. It was oddly nostalgic to hear again.

Ratchet made his way to the closest lab table. He looked down at the motionless corpse laid out, his face serious again. Raf tried to find a good vantage point to see and was beyond grateful when Laserbeak wordlessly offered a data cable to him. He nodded and held on as it wrapped around his torso. A quick flight up with flipping in his stomach, Laserbeak deposited him on the lab table, now at waist level with the surrounding scientists… And, the subject in question. Their optics were dark and lifeless. The body was made of gray and black plates, looking very Cybertronian, but everyone who had seen them was right. They were so odd. Raf couldn't even place exactly what it was about them that was different. Maybe the color of their paint jobs? Matt and dull and very undefined from each other. Sharper chassis build types, but all similar again. All wearing the Decepticon Emblem on their chests.

Despite the subjects being very very dead, those still in relatively one piece were strapped down to the table they occupied. Not a bad idea, just in case.

"What of the sub Cybertronian spotted in Iacon?" Shockwave inquired. "Was he terminated and collected?"

Ratchet grimaced, "No, he escaped into the underground."

Starscream scoffed, "Is anyone here surprised the Autobots could not handle this one thing?"

Ratchet snarled back at him, "We don't have the luxury of having Predicons as neighbors to fight our battles! How is Predaking by the way? You two ever bury the hatchet yet or is that still a colossal problem you one hundred percent caused?"

/As you can see here/ Autoclave huffed and pointed purposely to the body, pulling Ratchet by the shoulder to regain his attention. /We have dissected beyond the armor plating, and have discovered though they look similar, many of their inner structures are arranged very differently. It took us a good deal of time to determine this odd organ here, is what would constitute their Transformation cog. Their Spark chambers are also far closer to the surface, and in addition…/ he retrieved a sample from an extraction syringe, pulling from the dead robotic creature a putrid green fluid, /This, is what we have determined to be their Energon. It is highly corrosive. I do not advise touching it without proper protection./

Ratchet hesitantly took the syringe. He ran his scanner over the contained substance. He made a perplexed face, then utilized a device just off the table to further scan it. "How can it be Energon?"

/That is the mystery/ Autoclave said, a hint of excitement in his tone.

"Chemically, it is very different," Shockwave intoned, "It is not sourced from our world, it has no additives or enhancements to change its properties, but all our tests indicate it is, somehow, the same."

"Has it been tested in a similar capacity?" Ratchet asked.

Oddly, Autoclave's expression darkened, /We have. We transfused a small amount into an Energon engine. The results were, concerning./

Autoclave drew their attention to a rolling table beside them. Raf walked to the end of the lab table to get a better look just as Ratchet was. A simple Energon combustion engine was seated there. Or at least, that was what it had been before the aforementioned transfusion. It certainly was not operational any longer. A layer of… It wasn't rust. Some other strange black substance had started to grow from the engine's joints and exposed pipes. As if mixing this odd green Energon into an engine meant for pure blue Energon was morally wrong on some molecular level and it fully rejected it before dying. Raf tried not to think what would happen if it had been transfused into a living bot.

Ratchet, rightfully so, seemed hesitant to touch the engine. Shockwave turned it over to examine the bottom and did so with his claws. "Though corrosive, contacting the substance is not irreversibly damaging. It can be washed off."

With that assurance, Ratchet got a little closer. "How odd…" he mumbled to himself.

"Our current theory," Shockwave said, "They are distant descendants of us and have evolved off world to utilize this corrupted version of Energon."

Ratchet looked up from the engine to meet Shockwave's optic, "But, they wear Decepticon sigils," he pointed out. "To evolve so dramatically, it would take more then the deration of the war."

Shockwave nodded, "It is a flawed theory. We welcome input."

Raf walked the short distance back to the body behind them. As the scientists swapped new theories, he shuffled closer to the helm of the odd Cybertronian. They had sharp fangs, a detail Raf wouldn't have noticed if their mouth plates weren't hanging open. He was aware Laserbeak was hovering behind him, observing. 'Do you have an opinion on the oddity?'

Raf touched the dead bot's face. He gave it a little push, then frowned. "It doesn't feel right," he said out loud. The scientists behind him stopped talking. A glance proved they were all looking at him.

He walked down and gave the bound servo a similar feel test. "Yeah, I don't know how else to say it, but it doesn't feel like you guys. Like, somehow it's more mechanical, if that makes any sense."

"It does not," Shockwave informed him.

Raf internally rolled his eyes, but continued his simple examination. "I mean, everything about it feels wrong. It smells wrong, it looks wrong. Laserbeak, can you give me a boost?"

Laserbeak took him again and deposited him onto the Cybertronian's chest. Raf squatted down to look into the open Spark chamber. Empty, of course, but… "The inside is dark, is that the same with the others?"

Autoclave nodded. Raf rummaged in his bag and procured chemical resistant gloves. (He never left the house without a pair. Who knew when mad science would happen.) He pulled one on, then with a grimace, he reached down and ran a finger hard around the chamber's edge. Black residue came back with the swipe. "We've tested this stuff, right?"

"Of course," Shockwave assured him. "It appears to be a natural oxidation of this subject's remains."

Raf looked back to the engine. "Is it the same as that stuff?"

Shockwave nodded.

On a hunch he hadn't fully thought through, Raf used his non gloved hand to pull out a small toy car from his bag. He was in his mid-twenties, but he still carried it around on the off chance Miko challenged him to a race. Then he adjusted his glasses and held it out to Ratchet, "Can you put some of the green Energon into this? Just the battery pack."

"That's not an Energon compatible engine," Ratchet pointed out.

"Humor me," Raf said.

Ratchet carefully took the tiny toy in his fingers and used the smallest injector they had to place some in the battery compartment. Then slowly, but noticeably, the black oxidation spread across the earth toy, its wires and even the outer plastic. "Shockwave was right when he said 'corruption.' I think whatever this stuff is these guys use to live with, is like, corrupted. Not infectious, but close to it."

/Fascinating/ Autoclave noted.

Raf changed strategies. He carefully removed the contaminated glove so he could section off a lock of his curled hair without getting the gunk in it. He glanced around the table, then found Laserbeak still watching him, "Do you have anything sharp I can cut with?"

Laserbeak quickly unfurled a data cable, then angled one of the clawed grabbers at the end, presenting the sharp side. He held out the long strand from his scalp and it was easily severed with Laserbeak's sharp claw. He took the lock of hair and dipped it into the dark oily substance halfway. He brought it back up, placed it down on the table, and waited. And it didn't take long. Just like the Energon engine and the toy car, the same corrosion crept up the lock of his brown hair until it was totally covered. He heard Ratchet and Autoclave's startled reactions, while Shockwave remained stoic as ever. "It doesn't matter what substance it comes in contact with. Whether it is Cybertronian, mechanical, or even organic. It just corrupts everything it touches. It's as if it's not even supposed to be here and everything it touches is trying to fight it off. Like, it just isn't right, on a molecular level, no offense to these guys I guess," he added and gently kicked the still body next to him on the table.

"Then it is not evolution," Ratchet confirmed.

Raf shook his head, again finding the odd substance caked onto his now dark hair strand. He was starting to get frustrated, and had to cross his arms, "No. I think wherever these guys came from, whether they were from here originally or not, wherever they were, something really bad happened, and it did this."

Ratchet looked to Starscream, who was passively listening to their conclusions regarding the odd discovery, "The next one of these odd Cybertronians needs to be taken alive. No more of your Decepticon style antics! And tell Predaking the same thing!"

Starscream did not attempt to even hide his offended scoff, "You forget who you address, Autobot fool. Barking demands of me like I am some Iacon steward…"

Autoclave clasped both hands together in a pleading fashion, /Please! It would help us determine where these odd ones come from and solve this perplexing puzzle!/

Starscream narrowed his optics at his friend, lip plates pursed. Then he threw back his helm and groaned, "Fine! I will see what I can do."

Shockwave had been so still up until that moment. When he moved Raf actually startled backwards. Shockwave was unbothered by his overreaction. With a few taps onto the closest monitor, a section of the floor split open. On the table that rose from the darkness, there was a piece of tech Raf recognized. The Cortical Psychic Patch, or at least a variation of it was neatly rolled up. Right, Shockwave had made that creepy mind reading thing in the first place. It made sense he had loads of them literally coming out of the floor and walls.

"I did not want to utilize this option unless we were in more dire circumstances," Shockwave explained as everyone watched him work. "It will be at the expense of this updated and finely tuned equipment. But there is a potential I will be able to utilize the Cortical Psychic Patch to retrieve at least some data from this cadaver's memory files. The location of some of his comrades may be retrievable."

"And who in Primus's name will we be attaching the other end of that thing to?" Ratchet growled.

Shockwave looked at him and paused. It was hard to guess what he was trying to infer in that blank red stair and few seconds' silence. Either he wanted Ratchet to be on the receiving end of the Patch, or he was silently judging the comment.

"Nobot," Shockwave finally said, thankfully, "Connecting one's mind to a dead subject would do untold damage. Or, it could risk bringing back whatever is left of the dead's consciousness into the living recipient."

Raf nodded along, for the first time understanding what the emotionless scientist was talking about. That same thing had happened to poor Bee forever ago… When they snuck onto the Nemesis and tried to find the cure to a Decepticon made virus that had infected Optimus. Bee volunteered to retrieve the cure from Megatron's, at the time, brain dead body. But Megatron was not as braindead as they first thought, because he hitched a ride back into Bumblebee's head. He tried not to openly shutter at the memory as Shockwave continued, "I will be connecting the Patch to the lab's retrieval systems. But it will take some time to calibrate, considering we will need to deliver enough energy into the subject to temporarily reestablish brain activity."

Ratchet scoffed. "Reanimating the corpse of whatever in the Pits these things are. I can't imagine it going wrong."

/Not reanimation to that degree/ Autoclave snickered, /If that were possible, death would be nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience./

Ratchet gave up arguing and went about helping with the grim project. Raf was fascinated, at least for the first hour as they hooked up endless cables and pipes and electrodes. It took all three of the scientist's total focus. Raf heard between them, if they made one slip up or pumped the body's brain full of too much energy, it would fry beyond use. But then the 'waiting' part Shockwave promised set in.

Raf was starting to fall asleep just staring at the backs of the three Cybertronian geniuses as they worked in almost complete silence. He found himself peeking over at Starscream to find some form of entertainment. Starscream was occupying himself for the first few hours with work related to his Lordship status. Pacing the shadows of the room while scanning through documents or leaving the lab to take comms he refused to take in the presence of an Autobot. Not like Ratchet would hear the call's contents, even if there was the darkest Decepticon intelligence being discussed. Ratchet was too far into his work alongside Shockwave and Autoclave.

Laserbeak had left for a time, called off by either Soundwave or some other errand. But he returned after who knows how long. Raf startled awake when he heard his boosters over him. "Nothing new," Raf told him with a yawn and sat up.

Laserbeak made a disappointed sound. He settled on the table next to Raf, joining him in their watch over the three scientists. 'In this moment of extensive free time, may I engage in a dialogue that is considered uncomfortable?'

Well, that was an interesting way to start a conversation. "Sure, hit me." Really, anything to pass the time.

'Would you consider going through the Cyberformation process as Rhea is?'

Raf shouldn't have been surprised by that question. In fact, it had only been a matter of time before it came up, and he really should have thought more about it to prepare him for this moment. But…

"I don't know, to be honest. I kind of like being human." He answered as candidly as he could.

'You enjoy being a living human, I assume?' Laserbeak specified, 'Your human life will expire.'

Raf shrugged, "you're not wrong there. But, I was talking to Frankie about the simulation-" Laserbeak openly vented the moment the simulation was mentioned. Raf cracked a grin at his reaction but pressed on, "Hear me out. The actual main reason the whole thing was created wasn't just so Cybertronians could go in and screw around in human avatars. It is a potential life extending option for humans. Like how Rhea can download her brain into a Cybertronian Avatar, well, a human can download their consciousness into the simulation and just, stay there. At least if and until you want to pull the plug yourself."

He definitely had Laserbeak's attention now. Behind his red optic band, Raf assumed he was considering the new information. That would be a change, since Laserbeak usually hated all things related to the human simulation. 'It is an interesting concept. However, if you were to take this avenue in leu of Cyberformation to extend your life, we would be unable to continue our conversations, considering Cybertronians do not exist in the simulated reality. And I am fully unwilling to take on a human Avatar.'

"I talked to Frankie about that too, and she said the whole no Cybertronian thing was not a hard rule," Raf clarified, "It really wouldn't take that much tweaking to the software to allow a Cybertronian to enter the simulation as they are. I mean, why not? It's a virtual world, we can make it do whatever we program it to."

Now Laserbeak was really thinking. He even nodded a few times, 'An interesting compromise…'

Raf smiled, laying back down and cushioning his head in his intertwined hands, "See? Everyone wins thanks to crazy science."

We shall do whatever must be done.

Raf shot back upright. The haunting echo of the strange female voice had slithered out of the monitor the corpse was hooked up to. The three scientists were no longer toiling. They had done it. The waiting was over.

The image on the screen was far too scrambled to make out. A mix of dark colors and pixels all fading in and out, like the weathered pictures on an old VHS tape. It was all that was left of this dead bot's memories. At least visually, it was almost totally gone. But the voice in those memories was salvageable.

A garbled and raggedy voice retorted with a growl, maybe the voice of this deceased bot himself, "You're working with them freaks… Why do we trust you?"

The female, sweet honey mixed with tasteless poison, laughed. Gentle and condescending, "Because from necessity is born allies once thought to be impossible. And I am your God, after all… That is yet one more reason to comply. The Twisted has already dug its tendrils deep in this place… We must uproot it if we are to survive."

"We lost Lord Megatron," another voice, not either of them. "Shockwave, Soundwave, and Starscream are all dead and rusting! We're all that's left of the Decepticon cause! We got nothing to lose."

Finally, Starscream was interested. It would be crazy if he wasn't, considering something just said he was dead... Not exactly reassuring.

More garbled mess Shockwave worked to dispel. The voices returned. "The Prime will get in the way!"

The woman's haunting laugh followed that assumption, "Optimus is but a shadow of his original self. I saw to his downfall myself. He is no threat to our plans. Warped beyond recognition and easily swayed if it is required… I only regret, I am not in the same position to undo him here in this place as well…"

A guttural tone chuckled, "No need, I hear the Prime is already dead here."

"All the more reason to trust in me. There will be nothing standing in our way… Find what our temporary allies require here, and then we shall move on…"

"And what of our temporary allies after we have what you want?" another snickered, tone suggesting they already knew.

"We toss them to the Twisted, and we save our own."

The screen blinked out. Shockwave attempted to bring back the feed, but it was toast. Fried, as he said it would eventually. Raf saw the edges of the Cortical Psychic Patch had oxidized with the black oil. They were left in the perplexing silence of what they had heard.

"So… What the hell did all that mean?" Raf asked.

No one had an answer.

Ratchet, who had long since dropped his anger in leu of what he heard, looked to Starscream again. "If we could ask of your side one more thing? Can we communicate with Predaking to track down one of these odd Cybertronians still among the living?"

Starscream was staring at the corpse that had produced the memory. He tisked his lip plates, but this time didn't protest.

---

Date: March 13th 2021

Soundwave

There were to many tasks to be tending to indulge, but he had promised to show more Cybertronian customs to Rhea. And this particular Cybertronian activity would be mutually pleasing. He felt the pulses of Rhea's eager field under his arm, which he had wrapped around her. They were alone also, so that was a plus.

She hummed in pleasure as she sank more into the oil they were submerged in. A naturally occurring platal shift had formed the hot oil pool only a few cycles ago, and they were lucky enough to have it happen far away from the Autobot's side of the planet, and more remarkably, it was on the surface. Half of the cave wall was still overhanging the large bubbling pool, which would keep it from being disturbed by acid rains. The other half was a rather impressive view of the open sky. The location for a shared oil bath was so perfect he couldn't have planned it better.

"Yeah, screw work, this trip was worth it," Rhea said, voicing their shared inner thought process.

He leaned his helm onto the top of hers, "I did promise to show you more of Cybertron. I have been shirking that promise."

She shrugged, "No big deal. I mean, you do rule a planet and a few colony worlds. That sounds like busy work."

"There is no excuse. Though, I do encourage you to enjoy this unspoiled amenity while it lasts. In a few cycles, it will be discovered by the larger population, and the Predacons too no doubt. The serenity of the place has an expiration date."

Rhea snorted a laugh, "Oh no, it's just like on Earth when tourists ruin someplace nice. But, I guess I can be nice and share," she cupped her hand and scooped fresh oil onto her shoulder. It ran through the grooves of her joints and transformation seems, ridding her of any remnants of rust. After another vent of pleasure, she gave him a sideways smile, "So, sorry to hear you and Starscream are dead. That's a bummer."

Laserbeak popped up from under the oil, shaking off his wings, 'According to the intel, Shockwave was terminated as well. Most unfortunate indeed,' he reminded them with a little shrug.

"I am unconcerned with the untethered memories extracted from a corpse," Soundwave said, leaning back into the oil, "But our current mission to capture one of these corrupted Cybertronians alive to ascertain their end goal is prudent, no matter how mentally unstable they all are."

"Good thing Predaking agreed to spare a few of his people to sniff them out. Otherwise, it may take a good bit of time," Rhea pointed out. "Apparently, he was glad to help. Said it will make us even for all the help the Rescue Bots back on Earth have been offering to dig up Predacon bones… The guy really does not know how to just accept a kindness."

"It is a rare commodity in the best of times," Soundwave pointed out.

She rolled her optics, "I keep forgetting, you don't know how to accept it either," she dunked her helm and came back up. He watched intently as the droplets of oil caressed her face plates on their journey back down into the pool.

"We can focus on the search for more answers once the Memorial is passed… In the meantime however, I want to reengage a conversation regarding what we discussed in the Simulation."

She looked up at him, "The sex thing?"

'Ug,' Laserbeak grumbled, cutting his side of the connection and vanishing back under the oil.

Soundwave chuckled, "Yes, and I will make it quick for everyone's benefit."

"I'm all ears, or audios, I guess."

He didn't struggle as much as he predicted he would. He had already carefully contemplated the question. "The feelings I experienced for you the last time, you said they are the same you had felt for me in the past?"

"Yep. Basically, the same thing, save for it coming from the perspective of an average human male, what we programed your avatar to have," she said.

"You harbored these feelings for the whole of our relationship?"

"Yeah, basically. Back when I was a geeky teenager to an equally geeky adult," she confirmed.

He paused, and he knew she would feel his unease in his field. And his guilt. "Before the concept of the Simulation became a reality, you were going to accept that feeling's conclusion as an impossibility. For my benefit?"

"Well, I don't know if that was exactly how I planned it out, but I guess. I mean, all humans experience the feeling, or most humans, anyway. We mostly just ignore it until a more convenient time to express it."

He blinked at her in shock, "You just ignore it?" he demanded. He may be in his Cybertronian form currently, but he could recall the experience a few short cycles ago. It was a hard thing to forget. "Its intensity was almost all encompassing. You are able to just, put it from your mind?"

She shrugged, "Mostly. I guess it's all just what you know. I'm human, so it's easy for me…" she noted her metal hand swirling the oil's surface, then laughed, "I mean, I'm not human right this second, but you get the gist. And why are you feeling guilty? Stop taking on every burden like it's your fault."

He tried to get his emotions in check, for her benefit. She leaned into his chest, and he cradled her. He didn't have anything else to ask. He reveled in the silence, the echoing of the cavern and bubbling oil around them. The subtle swish of Laserbeak fluttering under the oil's surface as he did his best to ignore them. Nervousness crept into his aura, and he didn't try to squelch it.

"Before I am called back to my duties, I would like to experience it."

The look she gave him did not reflect she had confidence in him. She looked worried, and not for herself. "Are you sure?"

He forced a grin, "Your confidence in me is charming."

She gave him a playful slap, "It's not that. I'm more worried how you'll react."

"What do you mean?" he inquired.

She shrugged again, "I've done my research too. And from a Cybertronian stance, there just isn't anything comparable. I don't want it to freak you out."

He wasn't offended per say, "Rhea, I have a considerable amount of life experience somewhere in the range of eight to nine million solar cycles. Even if that is not time spent from a human's perspective, I believe I will be able to manage," he trailed off, again admiring the bronze shine of her oiled armor, "I will be fine, as long as you inform me if I am doing everything correctly. For your sake."

She vented. Her aura suggested repressed excitement, but compared to her trepidations on his behalf, that was limited. She placed her palm to the side of his faceplates, easing him closer until the crests of their helms were touching. "Alright. Deal."

It was the longest few kliks of his life. Resting in each other's embrace in the solitude of the oil cavern as he pulled up the simulation protocol and logging them in. Laserbeak, Cybertron, and the real world would be waiting for them when they returned.

The soothing hot oil was gone, replaced with the chill of air caressing skin. Months of this, and he was still not used to skin. That was not a great realization to have before engaging in this activity…

---

Arcee

"If Thunderblast took the armor, then we won't ever see it again," she reminded Jazz. She was lockstep with him, making their way tandem down the streets of the western province of Iacon. Night had fallen, and it was quieter than it would be on a normal evening. A vote to instate a curfew had passed, just to stay on the safe side with these strange Cybertronians running around. Arcee and Jazz were higher ranking, so they could wander.

Jazz growled to himself. Arcee's answer hadn't been what he wanted to hear. "All the more reason to make this into a bigger deal then we have been. A Con stole from the Iacon vaults. Last I checked that breaks the treaty in a big way."

Arcee shrugged, "It sure does, but we have to weigh the crimes' seriousness against how much of a stink it will cause between us and the Cons. Thunderblast is, unfortunately, one of Soundwave's high generals. That means she will get away with more scrap. Annoying? Absolutely, but would you rather have the war back?"

"Yet Primus forbid we pull the same scrap," Jazz huffed.

"Because we are supposed to be holding ourselves to a higher standard," Arcee said, and made sure to roll her optics as she did so.

Jazz scoffed, "Higher standards don't win wars, last I checked," he glanced over his shoulder, then down the other way. Then he ducked into the closest alley.

"Yeah, nothing suspicious about what you just did there, not at all," Arcee said as she followed him.

"I did say for you not to follow me," Jazz grumbled, "If I'm up to no good, then you're in just as much trouble." Another glance down the alley to assure they weren't followed. He kicked down onto a hole cover in the street, and it flipped open. A set of latter rungs led down into the darkness.

"Not unless I narc on you to Magnus," Arcee pointed out with a hand on her hip plating.

Jazz was already halfway down the latter. He only paused to smile up at her, "Then by all means, go off and tell on me. Your word against mine, and I'll be long gone."

Arcee scowled before climbing into the hole to follow him, "Hence why I'm coming. I am making sure you don't do something crazy. Like sneak into Soundwave's bedroom again."

"Nobot is ever going to let that scrap go," Jazz whined. He jumped off the latter halfway down and landed on his peds. Arcee followed his example, just so he didn't wander out of her sight.

"I know a bunch of tunnels and access ways, but this isn't one of them. Where does it lead?" she asked.

Not at all comforting, Jazz offered a wicked smile, "well, it wouldn't be much of a secret access way if I just told ya, now, would it?" He transformed and floored it down the dim path. Arcee vented, shifted into her motorcycle form and punched it after him. It didn't take her long to close the distance. Navigating fast in small spaces was kind of her specialty.

They traveled the dark passage for a long while and were also headed south. That was her first hint as to where they were going. Only a few turns were incorporated into the trip, and Jazz was equally flaky when she grilled him along the way. He only stopped to activate a small fixed Groundbridge to whisk them even further along their journey. They came out the other side in more similar tunnels, but Arcee's inner navigation told her they had teleported even farther south. Oh Primus.

They slowed down for the last time, probably with the sun only a few hours from rising. Jazz stopped, transformed back, and stretched to work out his stiff joints. Arcee did the same. This part of the tunnels she knew. They were under Maccadam's bar. And that meant… "We are under Kaon." She growled.

"I mean, was that too hard to guess?" Jazz countered. He started rummaging in his subspace, and she wandered to the hidden entrance into Maccadam's bar above them. "Autobots with a government clearance, ya know, like you and me, have to enter Kaon through a checkpoint and have an escort. I am assuming we don't have that on this little venture?"

Jazz procured two devices from his subspace, and he grinned, "Good thing we ain't gonna be Autobots right now," he placed the magnetic patch onto the Autobot emblem on his chest, and the holographic particles recolored him. He went from his normal white and black colors to a mirrored variation with purple highlights. Even his visor changed, taking on a red glow. And most prominent, his Autobot emblem had vanished somewhere under the disguise. Then, still grinning, he offered her the other disguise patch.

She glared at his offering hand, considering taking off the whole servo along with the patch. "Higher standard," she reminded him, and herself, with a growl.

He shrugged, starting to take it back, "Ok, then wait down here for me to come back after doing who knows what up top…"

She snatched the patch from him and slapped it onto one of her back wings. Her Autobot sigils vanished into the darker blue and black of her temporary repaint. A slick of oil on the ground showed the reflection of her new look, a yellow opticed, unaligned stranger scowled back at her.

Seeing herself, no matter what paint or form, not wearing the Autobot emblem, awoke very, uneasy feelings. Just don't think about it…

She refocused her glowering look at the disguised Jazz. "We are not going to cause a ruckus up there. Whatever intelligence you are here for, you grab it, and we go. Got it?"

Jazz typed into a hidden pad on the wall and the pop door above them opened, "Hear ya loud and clear Cee! It will be quick but fruitful, promise."

They climbed up into the bar's back room. The lights were dimmed, unsurprising. It was even too late, or early, in most standards, for local Con drunks to still be lingering. But the door burst open, and Maccadam's smiling faceplates did not surprise her at all. "About time you two got here! I was starting to think my future sight was failing me even with the most predictable info, like Jazz's antics!" he offered them drinks as they entered, already poured and ready. "And may I say, you both look remarkably unrecognizable!"

"I knew you would have us covered Maccadam," Jazz said as he accepted the drink and took a generous gulp. He wandered into the main bar, zeroing in on the only two bots still there after hours. "Fantastic! The intel was good."

Arcee walked up, nursing her beverage and avoiding glancing at her reflection in the long mirror adorning the back of Maccadam's bar. She stood alongside Jazz at the table, taking in the two bots passed out across from each other. Grimlock absolutely towered over Thunderblast, even with him faceplates down onto the tabletop. Arcee did a quick surface scan of the smaller Con general, just to make sure she wasn't dead. Nope, still online, but every one of her systems were absolutely flooded with high grade.

Maccadam snickered, coming in between Jazz and Arcee. "I tried to warn poor Thunderblast… No bot can out drink Grimlock. But he is headed to Earth in a bit with the rest of his boys, so he decided to catch up on recharge while she recovered. He has his nice moments."

"How long she been out and how much high-grade did she guzzle?" Jazz asked.

Maccadam paused, checking his internal clock, "Ten kliks before closing, at least… And she had about ten more shots then she could handle."

"Perfect," Jazz said, and drug the Con General out of the booth and onto the floor. She landed in a tangled heap but didn't even moan.

Arcee crossed her servos, "I thought we were supposed to be tracking down those odd Cybertronians, not the Apex Armor?"

"I'm multi-tasking," Jazz explained as he tapped the side of his helm and activated the deep scanner in his optic band. "I also heard word about one of those weird bots lurking around here. After we get the Armor back, that will be our next stop."

"You think she would just have stolen Autobot property on her person?"

Jazz used his ped to flip Thunderblast over onto her faceplates, "Maybe not while near us, but this is her hometown, so I doubt she will have her guard up." He was quickly proven wrong when his scanner beeped its negative alarm at him. He scowled, "Why wouldn't she have it on her? You can't use the Armor if you don't have it with you."

"Well, she did tell you she didn't have it on her. She may have it at her place. That would be Soundwave's place too, if you recall. And we are not breaking into the Decepticon North Tower just to justify your scrap crazy ego."

Jazz stood straight, glaring down onto Thunderblast's crumpled form. "I just need to know what she did to it. After her admission back in Kaon, I did some diggin'."

"As you do even when you shouldn't," Arcee huffed.

"The point still stands. I was poking around the Con inner data files for upgrades and chassis modifications. I recovered half of a high tech schematic for plans related to the Apex Armor, plans she tried to have totally deleted. She had the Armor modified, a lot. For what purpose, Primus only knows. It may be too far modified to even work the same anymore, but for my own peace of mind I need to know. She's up to something sinister… I know it." He sat hard onto a nearby chair, carrying on his glaring match with the back of Thunderblast's helm.

Arcee glanced Maccadam, who signaled for her to sit down next him. She did so, and accepted another drink for them both when Maccadam offered it. "Not that anyone should ever, not in a million years, trust a Con's true motivation, but if drunken thunder here wanted to hurt us in some grand sneak attack, you would think she would swipe a more devastating Relic. The Apex Armor is just that, armor. She may be a Con, but she has folks she would want to protect. It may have been modified to outfit Clobber. Ya know, to protect her." Jazz scowled but didn't care to comment. He hid most of his expression behind his visor. But his aura was an open data pad. He was leaking uncertainty, worry, and only a little guilt. "Is this really about the Armor, Jazz? Or is this about lasting hurt feelings aimed at the Cons?"

He glared up at her next, "You're one to talk. You hate Sounders. I mean, for good reason, but I refuse to believe I am the only hypocrite here."

"Ok, first, I don't hate the guy. The reason for my cold attitude is… complicated. He's, it's about-" she vented and took another sip, hoping the buzz from her beverage would loosen her actual meaning from her lip plates, "I'm jealous. I already talked to Rhea about this. I still haven't talked to my human partner, Jack. I don't like how our side is handling the concept of Cyberformation. I think in part, it is coming from a good place. But mostly, it is from lasting alien xenophobia and a perceived superiority that our side really struggles shaking. Is the concept probably morally wrong on some cosmic level? No doubt, but Rhea kind of said it best. If she regrets changing, the only one to blame will be herself, and she'll come to that crossroads if and when it's relevant. But it's still her life. Her choice…"

Jazz nodded along, "And our side says it's a hard no forever, right?"

Arcee grumbled behind her cube, "Exactly."

He leaned hard into the back of his booth, "That hurts, Cee. What are ya going to do about your human?"

She desperately wished the free drink she was handed on her way breaking in from the underground had been made stronger, "I have no idea. I'm floundering here."

"Floundering?" he echoed curiously.

Arcee sort of snorted a laugh, "Human term. On Earth, they have these like, water organisms called fish, and if you take them out of water they flop around- It's not important. Simply put, I'm stuck," now she leaned back, sizing up Jazz's casual body language with a hum, "how about you? Was my original guess right about the Cons?"

Jazz tossed his head back with a sarcastic scoff, "I'm sorry Cee, but the peace won't last. I just can't dig that concept. The only reason it has for any amount of time, is cuz our side is letting them get away with murder. Sometimes, literally. They will keep pushin' the boundary until we snap, or until they do first for the fun of it. It's just what they are."

"So what? Reinstate the caste system?"

Jazz glared at her, "Now where in the frag did you hear me say that scrap?"

She shrugged, "I'm reading between the lines. Us and them. They aren't politically or morally right in any way. That makes them beneath us, right?"

"No," Jazz growled.

"Then what is it you're saying?" she demanded.

Jazz flung his hands up in frustration, "Damn, Cee I don't know! I never said Cons as a whole are like, second class citizens. I'm sayin' the movement was never legitimate, though Megatron loved hidin' behind good talking points like abolishing the caste system and treating everybot equally. The Decepticons as a whole are made up of bots just like you and me, but like any race, they have their thieves, cheats, murderers and liars. Not good people, no less equal, but also irredeemable. Like if we gave Unicron a second chance. Those are the types we are making deals with and tryin' to make happy just in the name of peace. What in the Pits kind of peace is that? You and me chose Autobot, because we weren't whacked in the fragging head," Jazz ex-vented and took that time to angry chug his drink.

Arcee's left ped bobbed up and down under the table. She was unable to look at Jazz. But her drink must be kicking in, because she did suddenly have the courage to voice her most inner thoughts she had been beating back with both hands, "I've been thinking about joining the Cons."

Jazz laughed, a little too loudly, "Nice attempt to win this stupid fight. But I don't work in hypotheticals. Like, I get the gist of what you're proposin' here. What if one of my friends joined the Cons, would my views change? Nope, cuz that wouldn't happen. It's totally not relevant."

Arcee remained silent as he continued to chuckle. She watched him finish his beverage, ex-vented with satisfaction, then gazed expectantly across the table, waiting for her to respond. She remained stone faced. His smirk started to falter. "Your joke already fell flat, knock it off," he demanded.

"I wasn't joking. Mostly, because I suck at jokes. Smokescreen already let me know that a while ago," she said.

"Well then you suck at hypothetical situations too," Jazz snapped.

"It wasn't that either."

Jazz fully turned in his booth to find Maccadam behind the bar polishing a glass and pretending like he wasn't listening, "Would you tell her she isn't funny?"

Maccadam gave him a sad smirk, "Oh, she already knows that. And as for her switching sides, my future sight is fifty fifty on her decision right now. It all depends on what Jack's answer to Cyberformation will be," he turned from Jazz's shocked form to Arcee, "Hence, why you have been avoiding asking him?"

She nodded and carried on sipping her drink.

Jazz whirled around to snatch her free hand, clinging to her like she had just received a diagnosis of the Rust Plague from Ratchet, "No no no, why would you even think somethin' like that? You're an Autobot, through and through down to the Spark! Stop talking crazy!"

She didn't pull from his grasp. She only intertwined her fingers with him, "Like Maccadam said, I'm fifty fifty on it…"

"What would Optimus-" he started to say.

Now she yanked her hand away, "Don't even rub that in the wound, Jazz! I fought alongside Optimus too! And he was the one to preach about the importance of free will! Not losing all my friends on Earth is damn important to me, and my side is failing me right now! Do I want to become a Con? No, of course not! But this is a rare moment where their side is offering more freedom for me to save the people I love."

"UUUGGG!" came the moaning growl from Grimlock at his booth, "Noisy people, shut the frag up please," and he tried to turn his helm away from them.

Arcee slouched as she glanced Grimlock. She gave a half-Sparked shrug, "Grim over there has jumped sides about a dozen times, and he doesn't care what anyone thinks. I should be more like him."

"Just… hold on, before you do something insane," Jazz pleaded, "We'll find a way to get the Ethic's Committee to agree to Cyberformation. You don't need to jump to any other side."

She rolled her optics, "And here you said you weren't a hypocrite. Listen to yourself. Our side has deemed the whole concept is bad, but for your own gain, when you have something to lose, you think we can change it. If it is truly bad, then why find a way to do it anyway? What happened to being morally correct?"

Jazz stammered. Finally, she seemed to have shut him up. Winning the argument did not make her feel any better.

He managed a very flaccid chuckle, "So, is you wanting to join the Cons yet one more reason you hatin' on Soundwave?"

She mirrored his hollow smile, "Kinda. Him being right in this regard sort of rubs me the wrong way."

"Just a helms up. Even if the war doesn't start up again, if you jump sides, I'll kill him for putting you in this position," he informed her.

"Oh please, he's done a lot of scrap things, but making me want to switch isn't one of them. That's all me," she huffed. Though Jazz had just unknowingly set up a perfect clincher for her position in their original argument, "But say I do jump sides, and you kill our quiet Con Lord. That is sure to reignite the war, and then we are on different sides of the blaster fire. What then, now that this is not just a hypothetical or a bad joke?"

She probably shouldn't have pitched the idea, because she now worried she had truly hurt him. If his Spark broken field wasn't enough of a giveaway, then his face was. "I would never shoot at ya Cee. None of us back home would. And that's what it is, home. Your home too… Ah scrap, does anybot else know, about this?"

"Nope. It's all you."

"Frag…" Jazz said.

It was a decent thought to end on, because 'frag' was the perfect word to describe the whole scenario. She wasn't worried about Jazz spilling it all to the others, per say. Not like she would be court martialed. It wasn't the war anymore. Lose her rank? Maybe, though government work always sucked. Worst case scenario, she would get dragged before Ultra Magnus and the other higher ups, interrogated as to why she was wavering in her loyalty, then released of all important government duties.

"Ok, I think I figured it out," Jazz said, and his smile was wavering, but did somewhat return.

Arcee shot back the rest of her drink and enjoyed the buzz it gave her, "Hit me with it."

"If your human dude says yes to Cyberformation, and you jump sides. You go get him changed, I come over and kill Soundwave. Then I take you as a prisoner of war and yank you back over to our side for safe keeping while the North and South sides of Cybertron rip each other apart."

She snorted, "Jee, you'd throw me in an Autobot cell for the rest of forever just for me? I'm touched."

"Nah, it'll be like, house arrest!" Jazz said, now fully committing to the lunacy of this plot, "We get you and Jack and any other Cyberformed humans you bring set up in a nice sized place on the upper east side of Iacon. Pits, you can even bring along any Con friends ya made. It'll be great!"

"But I thought all Cons were liars' thieves and murderers? Why bring them?" Arcee countered.

Jazz stammered. He pursed his expression at her. Venting hard, he held out a hand to shake in surrender, "Ok, fair enough… Let's just agree, our side isn't always right, and some Cons are redeemable, save for Soundwave. Deal?"

She shook on that. "Good talk. I look forward to seeing the fancy prison compound you set up for me if I decide to rock the Con side."

How did the air feel lighter after admitting that horrible secret she had been stewing in? It was impossible to say for sure. But one of her friends didn't totally turn his back on her. She knew Jazz and the others wouldn't, but it was still nice to have confirmation.

Maccadam patted them both on the shoulder as he headed for the front entrance, "Sharing always helps. Secrets kill," Maccadam informed them both. Just before he got to the door, there was a gentle knocking. Maccadam opened it, and looming in the whole doorway was Clobber, standing embarrassed and awkward with D the bubble dog rolling inside between her peds. "I'm sorry to bother so late, Maccadam, but is Thunderblast…"

Maccadam stepped aside, allowing Clobber to fully witness her girlfriend sprawled on the floor. D rolled to a stop before Thunderblast, barking at her helm to wake her. Thunderblast groaned. Weakly, she brought one servo out from under her chassis and groped around the ground until she found D's bubble shield. "Ther's my littl' boy… Destroyer o' worlds…. His name promis' death ta all who hear…" she cradled D close to her Spark and went back under.

Clobber's broad shoulders fell. "Oh, Primus. Maccadam, I am so sorry."

"All in good fun. Mostly for Grimlock." Maccadam snickered.

Clobber hurried over to scoop Thunderblast from the ground, but she paused when she spotted the two in the booth watching her. "I'm sorry folks… I didn't even know the bar was still open. I hope she wasn't… too…" she narrowed her optic at them, mostly settled on Arcee.

Arcee glanced down at herself, right, disguised. Not well enough for anybot who knew them it would seem. "Hey Clobber," Arcee vented.

Her voice was all the confirmation Clobber needed, and she fully gasped in horror, "Arcee!? And this one, Jazz? Oh no! No no, guys, you aren't supposed to be here in secret! There will be so much trouble!"

"As long as nobot finds out," Jazz said, a bit of a threat weaved in his casual remark.

Arcee knocked him with her elbow joint, "We're here following a lead about one of those strange sub Cybertronians. It was supposed to be a quick trip."

"And the Apex Armor," Jazz added.

Clobber looked between them, having Thunderblast draped over one shoulder and D clutched to her with the other large claw hand, "About the Armor… She won't… we can't give it back. It's kind of hard to explain. Is there like, anyway I can just pay you for it?"

Jazz hummed thoughtfully, "Will be a hard thing to convince the folks back home."

Arcee hit him again, "So would us dawning Con get ups and sneaking into Kaon! Focus!" she whirled back to Clobber, "Has there been any strange activity tonight? Iacon is crawling with security and everybot else is under curfew, so we haven't had any sightings since the first one."

Clobber thought, glancing out the large window overlooking the street. Despite the early hour, there were still loiterers and other shenanigans happening. It was Kaon, after all. This city never slept, and a curfew was out of the question under even the worst circumstances. "I mean, I don't think so? I could call a patrol or an arial sweep…"

Arcee stood, taking Jazz with her. "No need. We'll do it ourselves and head out before the sun rises. At this point though, it is probably a wasted effort."

The door slammed open, making Grimlock groan and fully turn in the booth to ignore the noise. Oddly, Maccadam jumped in surprise.

A garish bot Arcee didn't recognize from any database stepped in, or at least he tried to. He was a little too big for the doorway to fit. Denta gnashed in frustration, he tossed in his large gun so he had both hands available to smash his way past the door. He retrieved his gun, straightened to regain at least a little of his dignity, then pointed at Maccadam, "I hear you have some sort of ability to see the future! I'll need your-" he must not have been anticipating others being in the bar, because he was taken off guard by the many sets of optics staring back. A full cartoonish moment of gaping at each other passed, before Maccadam pointed back at the newcomer, "I did not see this one coming. That means he's one of them."

Arcee jumped over the table in her way. She lunged for the bot as he retreated. Jazz was right behind her. Maccadam held out his arms for Clobber to deposit Thunderblast's limp form into. And after a quick thank you and an apology, Clobber and D were zooming out the door as well, all in hot pursuit of the strange unseen Cybertronian.

---

Soundwave

His human self-sat down at her kitchen table, waiting as she cooked excitedly as always. He watched her back, the way her dark hair bobbed as she scurried about at the stove. He liked watching her cook. He liked this place with her.

"Laserbeak is more self-sufficient, which is good to see," she commented.

He nodded, "I am proud of him. He is far more like his old self, when the others were still with us. I should have trusted him to resolve the Prion issue much sooner. He better understands other Minicons after all."

"It's the longest the factions on Prion have gone without squabbling," Rhea agreed with a snicker, and she placed two plates on the table. "Not saying it will last for eternity, but yeah, he should be proud of that too."

He studied the food before him for a short moment. Though this form of him was hungry, he took time to watch her eat first. His mind was racing still, but he was fairly sure he had himself under control. The feelings of fear and overwhelming desire were fighting each other. Unlike most of humanity, he was done ignoring it.

"I assume sleeping is akin to recharge," he said. She looked up at him, thought on it, then nodded. She swallowed so she could speak clearly, "Basically. Though, I find human sleep can be a little harder to attain."

"I'll like to try that too."

She smiled, "I think we can arrange that. Comparatively, it should be easy."

He took a moment to taste her hard work. He had come to enjoy the sensation of eating, especially if it was with her. He had come to enjoy everything about the time they spent in this pretend world. Even if it was always interrupted. It was like a small vacation away from reality every time. Were there more pressing things in the real world he should be focusing all his time on? Of course, but he decided he didn't care. Everything else could wait.

After eating, they retired to her bedroom. He laid on her bed, arm draped around her and holding her close. Her eyes were closed, resting her head on his chest. She looked like she was sleeping, but he knew better, due to her small smirk. Something was on her mind.

"I have been meaning to tell you something embarrassing," she admitted without opening her eyes.

He gently drummed his fingers along her arm, "Now I am intrigued."

"Shawn Burger, the Concurrence guy? Jack and the others think he has a crush on me," she snickered.

He shrugged, "I don't blame him, you are easy to admire."

"Aw, thanks. But really, I don't know how to let the guy down easy. Conflict just isn't my thing."

"Has he mentioned anything to you personally?"

She shook her head against his chest. "Nope. I think he is too shy to."

"Then fain ignorance unless he otherwise engages in that conversation," he suggested.

She snorted a laugh, "That is precisely the plan. Glad we are on the same page."

He kissed her hair, "Of course. That is the same strategy I utilize to avoid regular conversations with the Autobot Representative, Bumblebee."

She opened her eyes to give him a cocked brow, "I think I have mentioned this more than once, but Bee wants so bad to be your friend."

"After eleven years giving him the bare minimum of my attention, I would have hoped he would have retired that desire," Soundwave grumbled, "His reasoning for wanting more than a working relationship alludes me."

"Trying to lead by example?" she offered, shrugging her own shoulders.

"He is hoping to add one more layer of insurance to maintain the treaty."

"That could be it," She agreed, though added, "Or, he really just wants to be buddies with everyone. You're the last holdout."

"I assumed Starscream was," Soundwave said.

She laughed, which was the desired effect he was aiming for, "True, but I mean, are you even friends with Starscream?"

"Fair point."

Their chuckling dropped off, leaving the silent room to dim from its natural lighting as the sun set under the windowsill. Neither of them bothered to flick the light on. Earth's twilight looked beautiful on her skin. Cybertronian dusk did also. He suspected any light would compliment Rhea's complexion very nicely. He pulled her a little closer. "I don't find enough time for you. I'm sorry."

"Well, you are king of the Cons." She said to excuse him.

"It is no excuse."

She shifted onto her elbow to give him a pointed look, "I knew what I was signing up for. And that goes for everything. Us, my changing, you name it."

He wanted to say more. He couldn't quite find the words. Near infinite access to multiple dialects and he felt as though he was mute again. So instead, he remained where he was, frozen in time and holding onto her.

Thankfully, she broke the silence, "I am amazed no one has called for us yet."

"I hope they do not. At least for tonight…"

She was looking at him again, but he maintained his gaze on the sun-stained window. He swallowed. His human form was dotting his skin's surface with pinpricks of sensation. "If you would indulge me, I want to continue our conversation, from outside. If you recall. Is this a good time?"

"Yeah, I recall. And the answer is still yes, but that is contingent on your own yes. And I guess… It also kind of depends on if we will be interrupted from the outside."

Soundwave summoned the drop menu with his free hand and went into the settings of the program. He set it so they could not be summoned unless it constitutes a life-or-death emergency. He slid the drop menu back out of existence and gave Rhea a very assured look. "Yes, I am sure. I am just, uncertain how to start."

She blinked, a little taken off guard. Had that been too bold? He had no idea what he should be doing in this scenario. For all he knew he already ruined it. She sat up, leaving him feeling disconnected as her scent left him. "Ok. How about we start with me asking a question, and then you ask one in kind. Then we go from there. You know what to expect, right? Last thing we need is for any surprise to dampen the mood."

"I do. At least, I know the mechanics of it… And it has not ceased being insane to me."

She grinned at him from across the bed, "True, but you did say the same about eating southern food for the first time."

"Yet another fair point."

"Do you have anything to ask me?" She wondered.

"Yes. In my research, I determined there was a risk of your discomfort… How do I avoid hurting you?"

"Eh, I mean, that isn't really an issue if we don't go crazy. I'd imagine that won't be a problem. Also, this would technically be my first experience too. So, I hope you won't be too disappointed," and to that she snickered. She also laid back down next to him. He was able to reestablish their bond, turning onto his side and draping his arms around her to pull her close.

"At the very least, you have a significant amount of context. I am almost blind in this regard."

"Alright, next question," she said with a playful smirk.

He had been set somewhat at ease by her laid-back attitude regarding the matter. That was, until she prefaced her question with a gentle kiss. His mind went away, and it was a struggle to get it back in time to comprehend her question. "How are you doing?"

"I am already overwhelmed," he admitted, and he was also breathless.

"Ok. Then I want to say something really important," she said, lacing her fingers together behind his head. "We are going to start off really slow. And the moment you are to freaked out, you tell me, and we take a break, or we stop."

Again, this experience was not about him at all, so he would be disregarding that option for himself. He proposed this, he dragged her here, he did not intend to turn back, no matter how uncomfortable he felt, "And that rule applies to you also?" he made certain to assure.

"Yep! Goes both ways," she said merrily. She shifted, and he rolled onto his back again, where she came to rest seated over his lap.

"Good," he attempted to snicker with a shaking breath, "I don't want this to be unpleasant for you. And I will reiterate, I have no idea what I am doing. Please inform me the moment I do something wrong."

"You do not give yourself enough credit," she hummed, tracing the edge of his jawline to his neck with her finger. "It is not that complicated. Think of it sort of like a rhythm between us. Like a heartbeat."

Any rhythm coming from him promised to be shaky at best, because the room was already spinning. It got even worse when she pulled her blouse over her head and tossed it off the bed. Oh Primus, he was no longer in control. His human avatar had taken the reigns, and he was little more a prisoner in his own brain.

"You, are a human. Do you have any experience with this?" he asked, trying to find some footing back in the reality between them. He was surprised he had linked a coherent thought together. Seeing her like this was, distracting.

Something about the question he proposed had been funny to her. "Experience? With who exactly? My whole life I have only been in a committed relationship with a biomechanical asexual alien life form."

Alright. Considering all that background, he understood the humor. He almost laughed too. But she had started to unbutton his shirt, and he felt like he had lost all his progress learning how to breathe, because it suddenly became a struggle again. "I have experience with myself. That's something, I guess… Any more questions?"

He stopped being a lump on the bed and helped in her attempts at removing his shirt. "Rhea, are you happy?"

She paused her exploration of his chest with her fingertips. "Obviously. But I feel as though there is some hidden meaning behind that."

He nodded, and his movements weren't fluid. He was a shuttering jerky mess. "We are bridging this final gap between us. Is that fact cathartic?"

She considered that. Then, strangely enough, she shook her head. "Not really. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't have left me any less fulfilled if this simulated reality was never created," she cupped his face with her hands. Pulling herself closer to meet his lips. He didn't have any more time to be confused by her answer. He melted into her. The warmth of her bare chest against his own. More of his skin tensed under the sensation of her touch. Between kisses, she smiled and said, "I have you forever, and that's all I will ever need. This right here… It's just a very fun bonus."

His false heart was beating hot in his ears. He wasn't used to electricity in this form, but it felt akin to it. Every touch and stroke sent a cascade of pulsing energy under his skin. He had no idea if it was pleasant, this was more alien than anything else he had done to date. For the first time, he was glad the Bond was suspended here, because he did not need her to know how terrified he was.

He hadn't noticed it had gotten dark until he found himself straining to make out the curves of her body. Some light came to caress her outline, forming a dim halo around her for him to admire. He could see her well enough to notice her skirt slip off and join her blouse and his buttoned shirt on the floor. He followed her example and unlatched the belt around his own waist… Damnit, stop trembling so much! He was struggling with the zipper, until she came to his rescue again. She basically was guiding his hands, and he did need the input desperately, especially when the final article of clothes left him and there was nothing between them but the alien sensation of touch and his screaming skin.

She kissed him again, and he found peace in the familiar feeling. In hindsight, that ritual was alien too, but he was better practiced in it. And he had decided he enjoyed the taste of her lips. The burning heat of her cheeks and an occasional wisp of her curly hair hanging down to tickle his face. It was intimacy he had come to rely on and look forward to. She had been so right in the past, there just wasn't anything like any of this from his Cybertronian perspective.

It would be how he survived this going forward. Push everything he already knew of the universe into a box and pretend it didn't exist until they logged back out. Let her show him how to navigate here. He had practiced that too. Learning how to let go of control and surrender it to her. Soundwave the Cybertronian and Decepticon Lord needed to be in control at all times. Understand every move from all angles and hear everything so he could analyze it.

Whatever he was here had no control. This subhuman variant of himself with no ability to regulate his body's feelings because he never had been human before. He woke up one day and had inherited everything all at once, skills Rhea and every human on Earth had mastered over a comparatively short lifetime. Being in control here was a fleeting fantasy. An impossibility. He was glad the one pulling the strings in this horrifying scenario was Rhea.

"Ya ok?" she whispered between their ajar lips.

Did he have the ability to answer her in any meaningful way? No, he did not, so he settled on deepening their connection and resumed kissing her. She luckily caught his meaning and carried on. He was so hyper aware of her dancing fingers from her place seated poised in his lap. Her nails raking through his hair and making him shutter. He focused on those fingers, the tips again tracing his face, the contours of his neck and chest. Her grasp tickled the outline of his waist and traced the bottom edge of his stomach, until they found perches much lower…

His breathing hitched, he fully forgot how to inhale. 'Alien' did not begin to describe the stroking pulses of intensity her touch was suddenly assaulting him with. He hadn't noticed he had broken off their kiss until he was struggling to sit up from under her, "Wait, stop!"

Mercifully, she did so instantly. Just as she promised she would. She sat back cross legged, giving him his space as the cascade of insanity fell away again and his mind caught up. And when clarity returned, he found her waiting, calm and only a little worried. He still couldn't recall how to breathe correctly… In, then back out, repeat… Scrap, he broke his only fragging rule regarding this whole scenario.

"I-I am sorry," he managed to stutter out.

She shook her head, "Nothing to apologize for."

"No there is, I-" he didn't even know what he was saying. Apparently, he hadn't suppressed his worry hard enough. This is for her. This is for her, why would he stop it?

She was reaching out a hand, not to touch him again, but as a gentle invitation for him to take. He did so. A tender tug on her brought her back to him, because in direct conflict with his previously protesting words, he needed her here with him. That feeling, however fleeting, was still reverberating through him. So, this was sexual pleasure. The first introduction had almost fried his brain. How was she so calm? Was his consciousness just not built for it? How was he supposed to get through this if the first deeply intimate touch almost broke him?

She was lying next to him, stroking her fingers through his hair while he calmed down. She also had warded off the chill by draping the sheets around them. It was all helping. "Wanna stop?" she offered.

He shook his head weakly. "No."

"Wanna talk about it?"

He could do that. "Was that initial feeling normal?"

"Yep. Totally normal." She assured him. She laid her cheek against his shoulder, "What was it like?"

Terrifying. Overwhelming and what seemed to be cause for a total system reset. But, diving deeper then all that- "It… Felt good."

He caught her small, satisfied smirk illuminated by the moon light. "How about you try this time?"

"Try what?" he asked, and he hoped his apprehension was hidden well enough in the low luminosity of the room.

"You can touch me. See where it takes us," she offered.

He wondered if she fully comprehended just how much that simple concept threw him into another mental tailspin. Because as perplexing as it was for him, considering how often he did touch her, he had never wanted to do so more than he did right this instant. It was odd, because he had a long history of physical and mental contact with her. Whether her small fragile human body was nestled between the plating of his chassis, or he was caressing her face plates while she wore her Cybertronian Avatar. This was different. His need to caress her skin was driven by this hungry desire he was trying to maintain control over.

In hindsight, she was also handing over control to him in this instance, maybe to ease his racing mind. That was not a prudent strategy. He was the last being in the universe who should be leading this little adventure between them. He worried he would disappoint her. But more than that, he did want to see where it took them, and that was frightening. And exciting.

He offered her the ghost of a nod, trying to buy time as he decided what in the Pits he should do… He wanted them to be connected again. As gently as he could manage, his own hands roved over to her waist. Her skin was the same temperature as his own. Far hotter than average and starting to have the slightest hint of slickness from sweat.

He didn't pull hard, but his grasp was encouraging her to move back to him. She did, seating herself on his lap once again, before his outburst had interrupted. Her arms came to rest on either shoulder, those soulful eyes meeting his eagerly.

He felt insane as he started to exhale a haggard laugh, "Rhea, I really don't know what to do."

Her hands wrapped behind his neck, palms rubbing eagerly against each other. A tell tail sign of her inner excitement, unable to maintain its composure. "Just shut your brain off for a second, and do what feels right," she suggested.

Had he ever 'shut his brain off' in the last six million years? He didn't think so. Even when he condemned himself to silence for the duration of the war, he was always contemplating something. And here was yet another example… Instead of doing what she said to do, he was overthinking this. Maybe it really was less complicated than he was making it out to be.

Focus on her, and determine what she was doing to elicit this insane physical reaction of his alien body. Every inner commentary trying to calculate how to control what was happening, he decided he would tell it all to temporarily shut up. What did he want? What did he actually want and how did he get it?

Rhea. The answer was always her. And he already had her, just as she had him. But what he wanted in this moment was to caress her skin with his fingers and map every curve. She had given him full permission to do so. So, he did. Finally letting go enough to bring his hands to life and roam her body. It was like stoking a furnace in his stomach, blazing everything else from the world except the two of them in this bed and feeding the hungry monster inside of him.

Her eyes closed, and he drank up that complex expression of pleasure radiating from her. Her own hands found purchase on the back of his neck, repeatedly stroking there in a repetitive rhythm. It felt good, but he wanted more. He could get more.

Her eyes fluttered open to find his gaze when his fingers lingered again on her waist. Feather light and hesitant. He didn't know how to ask for what came next…

Her caressing thumbs left his neck, and again she cradled his face to kiss him. He drank up the sweetness in her lips as if she were the last source of Energon in the universe. She was breathless against him, but that made two of them. And she was in far more control.

"I want to feel you," he whispered between gentle pecks, "I'm terrified to hurt you."

She smiled against his lips, "I trust you won't. And I want to feel you too."

One final hurdle to jump. The last bridge to cross and bring them closer. He was thinking way too much about this. But he did suddenly realize what she had been inferring this whole time whenever the uncomfortable aspect of intercourse arose. She hadn't wanted to experience it simply because she was human and that was what humans did. She wanted him, and only him, whatever form that took.

He felt her touch again, low and intimate, and that same insane sensation made his mind want to claw out of his head and run. But he didn't fight it. He only nestled his nose into her neck as she fully settled onto his lap and connected them.

It was overwhelming and intoxicating. He pulled in one shallow breath after the other. Tasting her scent and savoring every twinge of her body on his. His roving hands slipped on sweat, struggling to find purchase as he longed to pull her closer to him. He couldn't get enough of her, his skin feeling on the verge of combusting into flames.

Every little noise of pleasure she made elicited another wave of ecstasy up his spine. She wasn't the only vocal one between them. He almost didn't recognize his own voice, but he was far from quiet. He felt the rumble in his throat as he produced odd little whimpering sounds fueled by each movement. He couldn't stop them. He could only mutter her name every few moments as his mind lacked the focus to form anything else meaningful.

"Soundwave…"

Hearing his own name caress him in such a way almost undid him. Her voice echoed that same hunger he had thought was only plaguing him. It carried the weight of whole galaxies, all converging on this one point in space and time at roughly the speed of light. He wanted to hear it again. He clung to her desperately, willing her to murmur his name again. And she indulged him many times in that request.

Countless breathless whispers exchanged between them. He felt her heartbeat in the rhythm they had settled into. Even in the dim light of Earth's night sky he relished the glowing blush on her cheeks. This feeling he once categorized as insane had come to overtake all other thoughts. And it was still insane, but now he recognized it as the most intense pleasure he had ever experienced. How could he make sure she felt it just as strongly?

She did. He could hear it in the soft serenade of her breathless voice. He saw it plain as day in her face that reflected the same pleasure, he felt cascading through his body. He caressed her cheek, and the spell somewhat broke, just long enough for her fluttering eyes to find his gaze again. The intensity in those eyes were like a supernova devouring everything in its path, including him. In fact, he was dead center of that energy blast's focus, and he was happy to be consumed into its dazzling light. The heat of that blast was cascading through every fiber of his being, burning through his mind and utterly overcoming him.

And it had all suddenly become too much to handle. That blast, the burning fire in his stomach, the tingle of his flesh, it all culminated into a building current of energy that was overwhelming. Was it too much pleasure? Did he want it to stop? No, yes? Primus, it was so intense he suddenly couldn't move. Trapped in his body and trembling as he fought to hold onto his sanity. Because it somehow felt like he was on the verge of death without the pain. Overcome with so much he couldn't physically take any more and he was fearful to fully fall off the edge. So, he fought it. Clenching his stomach, his teeth, anything to keep the internal fire from spreading any further. The noises he was making turned suddenly desperate, he clung to Rhea for dear life. Was she ok, or was she also drowning in a torrent of all consuming sensation and madness?

Her movements against him slowed to a manageable dance, and it provided a small hint of relief from the building torrent ready to rip him apart. She gave a gentle and comforting kiss and pressed her forehead to his. Her expression was relaxed against his tensed body, "It's normal," she whispered in his ear. She already knew he wasn't sure what was happening and was quick to assure him like always. "All you have to do is let go."

Let go. That seemed easier said than done, because he felt like he was teetering on the pinnacle of reality. But he trusted her, and they already established he had no clue what he was doing. As long as she was there to guide him through it, he could handle it. He was nodding, wordlessly pleading to her when breathing became difficult in his state.

Her smile almost undid him, but her sudden advances against him relit the fire. He was dizzy, free falling and gasping. He was still fighting it, and he was losing. In this instance, he didn't mind losing. He buried his nose and mouth in her hair, breathing in her comforting scent and fully relaxing against the torrent to let it wash him away.

He clung to her, his whole-body trembling for the longest few seconds of his extensive existence. Every one of his muscles pulsed and twitched in pleasure so intense the stars outside were suddenly dancing in his line of sight and on Rhea's beautiful skin. He fully surrendered to it, knowing he could never win. He surrendered to her until the cascading pulses of ecstasy faded back into a more manageable state.

And once it passed, leaving his whole form tingling, he had his consciousness back. He hadn't gained enough of his coherent thoughts to speak though. Instead, he pulled Rhea back against him again and laid with his arms clasped around her. She remained poised on his rapidly rising chest, occasionally kissing the line of his lower jaw.

He stroked her soft hair to calm back down. He gained enough foresight to worry their combined sweat was starting to chill her. He wrapped the sheets around them, tucking her in tight and locking them together in a protective cocoon.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," she whispered. She was trembling against him, though her smile assured she was fine. It was her body that was overwhelmed, and a few shaking hand movements cured her of her excess energy. He was amazed she was still so energized. He felt drained down to the last drop of life force.

"I'm glad I could," he said after regaining control over his voice. And he was. He was grateful for it all, terror included. He was able to experience her in so many ways and each new experience was exciting.

"What did you think?" she asked, a slick brow risen curiously.

Again, the first instinct that hit him was to chuckle, "I am fairly certain, it almost killed me. I have no inkling how you humans have managed to not go insane after enduring that level of intensity after so many eons."

She was laughing too. "Practice, I guess. And a sick sense of thrill chasing."

He dusted some hair from her face to better see her eyes, "Practice… I suppose it will take me a few more tries to gain your level of confidence in the task."

Now she was curious, "A few more tries? You ok to do that again?"

He was shocked by his own wording too, but the more he thought about it, "Yes. I would. I, enjoyed it… Did you?"

She grinned, nuzzling closer, "What do you think?" she asked and responded with a deep soft kiss. He again melted into her lips. He decided in that instance he didn't care about any other differences between them. Whatever knew trials arose regarding their many contrasts, they were well equipped to handle it.

"I love you," he breathed between kisses. The words were so simple, and he usually found them profoundly empty, but they were all he could utilize to let her fully know the depths of his feelings for her.

She broke off their kiss long enough to look him in the eyes, and she gave him a devilish grin, "Likewise, my Lord."

…Primus. He had been fully unequipped to handle how she utilized his title in such a sensual way. Having been so drained from their encounter just moments ago, he was surprised how quickly his arousal returned.