(no subject)

[akisawana]

Three paracycles ago, Thundercracker would never be breaking into a discreet medical facility with his sieziegos. Starscream may have been the Minister of War, but he’d never actually served. Skywarp was involved, though, and that meant Starscream had his pedes on the ground for this one.
It wasn’t too strange for Skywarp to write instead of use his still-unfamiliar comm. array, Starscream said. But something about the note had alarmed him. Thundercracker didn’t need to understand whatever hidden message there was, not when it had come from half a planet away from where Skywarp was supposed to be, not when it had come to a mech that Skywarp had barely spoken to off-duty.
After some of the missions on the Umi planet, this was almost easy, and the two of them went in alone. Thundercracker didn’t ask where the keycard had come from, and Starscream didn’t ask about the weapons.
The door opened easily to Starscream’s keycard. He stuck his head in and swore profusely. “Thundercracker!” he yelled down the hallway. “Get over here!”
Thundercracker looked down the hallway one last time but no- the research facility relied heavily on the automated security system Starscream had hacked. Nobody was coming. He shouldered his rifle and hurried to the door Starscream was standing in front of.
It opened into a cell, one wall a tinted window, allowing the occupant to look out unseen. There was a Seeker-sized berth, a desk with a console, a vidscreen, a couch…and a pile of scuffed black plating barricaded behind a broken shelf.
Skywarp was black and purple and totally unsuited for the subtle cruelty of court, but at the same time nobody quite disliked him -between Megatron’s patronage and his own sense of humor, it just wasn’t worth the energy. Thundercracker liked him well enough, and once they’d spent an entire ceremonial dinner snarking together about the Praxian embassy in the back of the room with the other nobodies.
He’d asked about Skywarp when the Seeker had disappeared. Starscream, who’d been Skywarp’s friend since the back end of forever and introduction to Megatron, said that he was helping a family of walkaways from the unchanged adapt to normal life, as Starscream had once helped Skywarp. Starscream had received a few letters that he frowned at, Megatron a few more. Thundercracker himself had been sent one eventually, a short note about how boring it was, and how he wished Starscream’s sieziegos could save him.
That had set Starscream off, since saving Skywarp was his exclusive domain, ending in this midnight raid on Jhiaxus’ research facility, and Starscream pushing him towards the huddled black form on the floor.
“Get him up, see if he can move,” Starscream hissed. Thundercracker knelt in front of the barricade, considering the situation. He could see one crimson optic, a little too dim to be healthy, peering around the side. Surely Skywarp recognized his oldest friend, so why was he hiding? He must have a good reason. Starscream turned on the console and began typing furiously, keys clicking fast as acid pellets. Thundercracker knew the rage wasn’t directed at him and he still felt like joining Skywarp.
“Hey, Skywarp,” he started, a little lamely to his audials, “it’s me. Thundercracker. I came with Starscream.”
“I know who you are,” Skywarp whispered. “Are you real?”
After three paracycles missing, Primus alone knowing what happened, Thundercracker couldn’t be too offended by the question. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re real. We’re really getting you out of here.”
Skywarp looked wary at Thundercracker’s offered hand. Skywarp, who more than once had been tricked into believing someone wanted to be his friend, when really they wanted a back door to Megatron’s audial. “You could be another hologram,” he said.
“Would a hologram know what really happened the time you fell off my roof?” Starscream said, plugging a dataslug into the console. “We’re on a time limit here.”
Skywarp put his hand in Thundercracker’s, and Thundercracker helped him over the barricade. “Easy, easy,” he murmured when the black Seeker tripped over nothing. He wrapped Skywarp’s arm around his own neck, his arm around Skywarp’s waist, supporting him as much as he needed. “Starscream, he’s hurt.”
“Do we need to carry him?” Starscream demanded, staring at the console like that would make it download faster.
“I’m fine,” Skywarp said. “Just, my gyros are fragged.”
Thundercracker had a brief vision of running from drone guards, Skywarp tripping into him and the two of them taking down Starscream, sliding down the slick hallway floor and coming to a stop at the feet of an Enforcer or two. “I can get him myself,” he said. Skywarp didn’t argue as Thundercracker hoisted him on his back, between his wings. Starscream flashed the two of them a quick frown.
Starscream didn’t say anything, though, just yanked the dataslug out of the console nearly hard enough to snap it. “Let’s go,” he said, holding his borrowed rifle at the ready and leading the way out into the corridor, all white ceramic and the faint chemotraces of medical-grade solvent and greenish lighting. Starscream moved swiftly for his chosen exit, no hesitation but no fear. Thundercracker, burdened with another mech, nearly had to run to keep up, but keep up he did.
Starscream led them out to the roof, and Skywarp lifted his head from Thundercracker’s neck at the caress of night air. “Our pickup’s in fifteen minutes. Try not to die before then,” Starscream said, hands gentle as he helped Skywarp off of Thundercracker’s back to sit on the roof, leaning against a large metal…box. Part of the ventilation system, maybe. Thundercracker just knew it hummed, and Skywarp’s plating rattled against it erratically as he shook.
“This is really happening,” he said. “You really came.”
“Of course I came for you, airhead,” Starscream sniffed, standing watch at the edge of the roof.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” Thundercracker rumbled, because Skywarp’s impending nervous breakdown needed to wait until he was sure the newly-freed Seeker wasn’t going to keel over in the middle of it.
Skywarp shook his head. “They did something, I can’t feel anything,” he said slowly. “I don’t exist.”
Thundercracker led him through the careful flexing of each major joint, and ran his own hands across each armor plate. No fluids were leaking, nothing seemed torn, and Thundercracker guessed that Jhiaxus had employed a sensor block, to deaden the sensation without damaging motion. Skywarp’s transformation was disabled, and his thrusters physically plugged. Starscream told them not to mess with anything that wasn’t an emergency.
“Astrotrain’s bringing Ratchet,” he said, pacing and throwing the occasional glance towards Skywarp. His hands opened and closed in fists a few times. “Try not to die until then. Everything else can wait.”
“Ratchet?” Skywarp looked up at Thundercracker. “Why would a senator be coming?”
“To make sure you’re okay.” Thundercracker put his hand on Skywarp’s knee, and though he couldn’t feel it, Skywarp put his own hand on top. “And so the Prime hears from a neutral source, just what he’s arresting Jhiaxus for.”
“They’re arresting?” Skywarp’s optics, already dim, were starting to go glassy with shock.
“The Prime and the Lord High Protector personally. Otherwise, they would be here.”
Skywarp opened his mouth to say something, but Starscream interrupted him with a sharp click. “You are supposed to be not dying,” he said. “Shut up and get on it. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“We’ll explain later,” Thundercracker said. “Right now, don’t worry about anything. We’ll take care of you from here.”
Skywarp nodded, and very carefully leaned his body against Thundercracker. “Thank you,” he half-whispered, as Astrotrain came in for a landing.
Large enough for three Seekers and a swearing Ratchet Astrotrain might be, but it was still best if Thundercracker stayed back, letting Starscream do the concerned-friend hover. And once Astrotrain landed back at the sprawling Palace of Primus, in Lord High Protector Megatron’s crystal garden, Skywarp was loaded up on a rolling medberth and swarmed by Megatron himself.
There was a place for Thundercracker, close enough as a friend to be there of his own accord, not just as a friend of Starscream’s. That place was outside the door of an extra bedroom, looking generally scary and keeping nosy no-goodniks away. Inside was crowded enough, Megatron and Optimus Prime, Starscream and Ratchet, two of Ratchet’s assistants…Thundercracker would go in later, when there wasn’t such an overwhelming press of bodies surrounding Skywarp. When he wouldn’t be in the way of helping. He resolved to stand outside and wait -he was a soldier, he’d stood outside in worse, for less.
Soldier discipline didn’t stand up to Skywarp’s panicked shout of “NO.”
Thundercracker flung in the door and analyzed the situation -Skywarp cowering in a corner, Starscream in front of him screeching at Ratchet, Ratchet yelling right back, while the two assistants tried to fade into the paneling and the two rulers of Cybertron rumbling at each other like oncoming stormclouds. Thundercracker crossed the room before anyone erupted, put his bulk between Skywarp and, well, everyone else. Skywarp, optics now fever-bright, reached for him, closed his hands around Thundercracker’s wrists. “Don’t let them,” he begged, “don’t let them do it, please, don’t let them!”
“Don’t let them do what?” Thundercracker asked, drawing Skywarp close to him. Nobody seemed to have even noticed his arrival.
“Don’t let them kill my mori!” Skywarp wailed, collapsing against Thundercracker.
“Nobody’s going to kill your mori,” Thundercracker said, embracing the black Seeker that sagged limply against him. Dimly, he registered the subject of Ratchet and Starscream’s argument -Starscream was living up to his name, while Ratchet was trying to get him to calm down enough for rational discussion. Silently, Thundercracker wished him luck. “You’re still carrying them?”
Skywarp nodded, taking one of Thundercracker’s hands and pressing it under his own spark chamber. “The implantation finally took,” he said. “Eight of them, only a deca-cycle old.” Then he frowned, looking up at Thundercracker. “I don’t want them taken away like the others.”
“Nobody’s going to take them away,” Thundercracker promised, leaving the nebulous “others” to be someone else’s problem. “Why would you think that?”
“Ratchet said there were too many, that I wasn’t…that it would be dangerous to keep them.”
“You’re a Seeker, right? Danger is what we do.” Behind him, Starscream’s voice was reaching glass-shattering pitch and volume. Ratchet yelled right back that it was Skywarp’s choice, not Starscream’s. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” He tugged Skywarp towards the door, trying to not catch anyone’s attention.
Space-cold darkness washed over him, and a purple flash through his very core, and suddenly he was standing outside in the hall again. Skywarp let go of Thundercracker, swayed on his feet a little, and steadied himself with a hand on the wall.
Teleporter.
“This way,” Thundercracker said, leading Skywarp towards a place he knew no-one would think to look. Skywarp didn’t say anything as he followed Thundercracker through the back hallways, down towards where the palace guards spent their downtime. Thundercracker had a dorm room here, though he never used it, and he thought to stash Skywarp there and feed him after their first stop.
Knockout owed Thundercracker a favor via a circuitous path involving a nurse, a mickey, and a lost bet. Breakdown was the doctor’s sieziegos, as Thundercracker was Starscream’s, and if they had merely been pallakos like Skywarp and Megatron, this might not work. But he was also a decent enough sort when it came to people in trouble, so Thundercracker was confident he wouldn’t turn Skywarp away.
“Is Skywarp with you?” Starscream comm’ed Thundercracker.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m taking him to Knockout to get checked out. What was that all about?”
“Ratchet got Skywarp upset. You keep him safe, I’ll keep them out of your way. They’re about to start searching room by room.”
“You don’t want us to come back?”
“No, I want Skywarp to calm down enough to think rationally, which he can’t do in a room full of people.” Starscream sighed over the line. “I’ll explain later, or he will. Don’t let Knockout do anything he doesn’t absolutely need to.”
“You mean don’t let him extinguish the embers.” Thundercracker paused to give Skywarp a break, pretending to be lost. He didn’t like the sound of Skywarp’s vents from walking such a short distance.
“Skywarp needs time to think about it,” Starscream said. “I don’t particularly care what he does, but he shouldn’t be making this decision so quickly.”
“He told me he wanted to keep them.”
“Exactly. Don’t let anyone scare him out of it. He needs time to think about it, and I intend to give it to him.”
“You don’t know Knockout very well,” Thundercracker said.
“No, I don’t.” Starscream sighed over the line again. “Less than you know Skywarp, and that’s saying something.” Starscream didn’t say that Skywarp was his best friend, his little adelfos, and it bothered him that Thundercracker knew him barely at all. He didn’t have to. They’d had that fight enough, and it wasn’t even that he didn’t like Skywarp -but Skywarp was Megatron’s personal guard in addition to his pallakos, where Thundercracker didn’t have a standing assignment. Thundercracker always meant to spend some time with Skywarp outside of work, but then Skywarp had been sent out to help runaways on the strength of a lie.
And that had led to Skywarp leaning against the wall as they fled the wrath of Ratchet. “I know where we’re going now,” Thundercracker said once Skywarp’s vents had slowed to normal. “This way.”
Knockout may have been a grounder, but he had Seeker somewhere in his coding; he was all long silver legs, shiny red metal, and well-deserved vanity. “Isn’t it a little early for a bar fight?” he greeted Thundercracker, smirking at the way Skywarp hung off his arm.
“It wasn’t a fight,” Thundercracker said, half-carrying Skywarp to the closest berth. “Could I trouble my favorite medic to take a look at my friend?”
“Your favorite medic, hmm?” Knockout asked. His words may have been light and drawled, but his hands were anything but as he helped Skywarp steady himself and initialized the scanner. “What do you want?”
“Discretion,” Thundercracker said.
Knockout looked at the scanner and made a thoughtful noise. “Not much to be discreet about,” he said. “You have some heavy traces of zabuyelite in your system but the antidote has already been administered. Everything I can see has been treated. And your tin roof’s rusted, but I’m betting you knew that.”
“Eight times over,” Skywarp said. “Ratchet must have fixed up everything before he started in on me.”
“Well, I’m not sure what you want me to do,” Knockout shrugged and put the scanner away. “Everything I could have fixed is fixed already, and for eight embers you’ll want to go to a specialist, which I’m not. Unless you want me to take them all out now.”
“No!” Skywarp said, cringing away from Knockout.
Knockout shrugged again and laid a hand on Skywarp, stroking his forearm. “Alright,” he said. “I’m not asking any questions. But you need to get to a specialist, not only because of the number, but zabuyelite can interfere with their development. Not right now this second,” he added, when Skywarp tried to slide off the berth. “Soon, tomorrow, but you have time to rest. Stay here, make Thundercracker bring you a cube, and tell me before you go.”
“Thank you,” Thundercracker rumbled. “I owe you one.”
“But I still owe you two, don’t I?” Knockout asked, and smiled. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
“I don’t want…” Skywarp began.
“Don’t worry about it,” Thundercracker cut him off. “I’ll go get you that cube, and then we’re going to stay right here until they get around to finding us.”
“But…okay.” Skywarp laid back.

The ceiling was disturbingly unfamiliar when Skywarp woke, and it took him a klik to remember what had happened.
He’d sat there and drank the cube until Starscream had swept in. His friend had led Skywarp to a room deep in the Ministry of War, an unused room that once had housed off-duty guards and still contained a berth. Starscream had stayed until Skywarp had fallen offline, talking with Thundercracker quietly in the corner. Thundercracker kept looking at Skywarp the same way Ambulon had.
And he’d been rescued before that. Rescued and repaired and rescued.
The Pit was he supposed to do now?
Fuel. Skywarp had eight tiny embers to take care of. That was what had kept him from popping his own head off, and look where that got him. Safe, with Starscream again. They had saved him,and now he needed to take care of them himself. Skywarp swung his legs off the table and shook his head until his gyros stabilized.
There was a comm. console in the wall, and Skywarp used it to page Starscream. His friend’s voice was just as irritated as ever.
“The energon dispenser code is 47489,” Starscream said. “Drink and I’ll be right there.”
Skywarp punched in the code and it gave him a cube. He sat on the berth, and didn’t think about anything but how awesome it was to drink regular energon that wasn’t drugged. Probably wasn’t drugged. The chance of the energon being drugged was so small it might as well not exist. And even if it was drugged, it probably wasn’t enough zabu to make him woozy.
It was good energon, made for warriors. It would fuel his embers well. He imagined them learning to drink out of open cubes, wearing them as hats. They would be adorable.
There was a knock at the door, more giving warning than asking permission, and Starscream opened it.
“Good morning,” Skywarp said with a smile. He was free and he had embers to take care of and he knew exactly what to do and he could totally do it. It was a good morning.
“Right,” Starscream said. “Ratchet wants to see you. He promises not to even mention that you have a choice.”
“Okay.” Skywarp sipped his cube. Delicious, untainted energon.
Starscream tilted his head. “Are you okay?”
Skywarp was going to say yes, because he was, but he opened his mouth and all the energon attempted to fly back to its homeland. He leaned forward and did his best to catch it in the cube, and if he was honest, he was rather proud of how much he managed to get in.
Not all of it though, and Starscream said a bad word or two, then called for Thundercracker’s help. He braced a hand against Skywarp’s shoulder, and patted his back awkwardly, and swore some more. Thundercracker came in with some sparangi, handed two to Starscream and knelt to clean up the floor.
“I can get that,” Skywarp said, wiping his mouth.
“Oh no you can’t.” Starscream scrubbed at Skywarp’s knee. “You are going to sit right there and Ratchet is going to come to you.”
“I’m fine,” Skywarp protested. Starscream gave him a look, and Thundercracker made a sound suspiciously like a giggle.
“Really, you call this fine? Losing your breakfast all over the floor? That must be some new definition of fine I was previously unaware of. Are there any other words with new meanings I should be updated on?” Starscream attacked Skywarp’s face with the clean corner of the cloth, holding his chin like a vrefos.
Thundercracker sat back on his heels, grinned up at them, and held his hand out for the soiled sparangi. “Ratchet’s on his way,” he said on his way out to get rid of them. “Try not to kill him, please?”
After a moment of silence, Skywarp said, “Thank you. For getting me.”
He was surprised when Starscream grabbed him in a hug, and held him tight. “You utter and complete afthead,” he said, face buried in Skywarp’s shoulder. “Total fragging glitch. I hate you.”
Skywarp hugged him back. Starscream was cool and solid and reliable and he’d never doubted for a second that his friend would come for him. “I missed you. I knew you would come but I still missed you.”
“You are more trouble than anyone is ever worth,” Starscream hissed, stroking one of Skywarp’s ailerons. “I can’t take my eyes off of you for a second. I should put you on a leash, I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again for the rest of your life. Which isn’t going to be too much longer you irresponsible rusted morosn, I could just kill you.”
“I’ll try to do better,” Skywarp said, trying to grin. Starscream had him so everything should be okay. Except it was starting to feel too much like before, when he couldn’t move because someone was holding him down, and they couldn’t give him more zabu because he’d had the max and more. But this was Starscream, and he’d let go if Skywarp asked, wouldn’t he?
Would he?
Starscream did, and without being asked. He slapped Skywarp up the back of the head, twice, all noise and no pain. “If you ever do that again, I will end your sorry excuse for an existence.”
“If he what, is lied to by a Senator with some very good forgeries that there’s a family of walkaways from Sunstorm who need his help living in reality, and one of them also can teleport? And disappears into the laboratory of a mad scientist who forges yet more documents, this time letters from Skywarp to his friends? Is this something that happens to you often?” Ratchet uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips; he must have come in when Skywarp was distracted by Starscream. In Skywarp’s defense, Starscream wasn’t much of a hugger. “Such an exciting life you must lead.”
Thundercracker, arms full of medical equipment, bumped closed the door with his hip and offered Skywarp a grin. “Perils of Iacon,” he said. “This never happens back home in Vos.”
Ratchet shook his head, and came over stand by the bed. Starscream didn’t move out of his way, and Skywarp felt gratitude well up in his spark, which was stupid because he was perfectly safe. He didn’t need Starscream standing guard and Thundercracker ready to help make an escape. “I want to apologize to you for yesterday,” the doctor said. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what was going on.”
“It’s okay,” Skywarp said to his feet. “I was pretty out of it.” And honestly, he didn’t remember much between Thundercracker helping him inside Astrotrain and Thundercracker’s hands around his wrists, taking him to Knockout.
“Now if you’re still set on having these mori,” Ratchet began, “it’s not going to be that much different from a normal forging. It will increase the risks and the drain on your systems exponentially, but I’d be more worried about what you were exposed to than anything else.”
“I know what could happen.” Better than you know, Skywarp didn’t add. The unchanged weren’t big on doctors, and he’d seen the very worst of forging before he picked his proper name.
“Good,” Ratchet said, without going into the gory details like he did last night. Starscream had yelled at him, and Megatron had yelled at Starscream, and Prime had said something quiet to Megatron, and Thundercracker had come in and pulled him out. Skywarp was starting to really like Thundercracker. Not that he had ever disliked him, but Thundercracker had been gone away to war for so long, and then he’d needed time to adjust to civilian life, or so Starscream said. Now Thundercracker was leaning against the wall, protecting the door panel from being locked. When he noticed Skywarp was watching him, he smiled reassuringly and tilted his head in Ratchet’s direction.
“Did you hear a word I said?” the doctor was asking.
“Risky, bad things can happen, I don’t care.” Skywarp said.
Ratchet sighed. “You were exposed to zabuyelite at least, and I don’t know what else. That can interfere with ember development.”
He had Skywarp’s full attention now. “What do you mean?” he asked, fuel lines running cold.
“It has some known side effects.” Ratchet opened the box he’d made Thundercracker carry in. “It can keep parts from forming properly, causing problems down the line. Missing systems, bad code, that sort of thing.”
“But he said they were only a deca-cycle old,” Thundercracker spoke up. “How much damage could happen in a deca-cycle? Especially if they’ve all survived.”
Surviving didn’t mean anything though. Skywarp had seen maridi with all sorts of malfunctions, without mouths, too-heavy limbs that tore right off, fuel lines that twisted around each other and never quite connected. And more that were survivable, optics missing, joints that didn’t bend, invisible lines of code that kept the vrefos from ever talking. Skywarp loved his embers already, and nothing -nothing! could change that.
That didn’t mean he wished pain on them.
He wouldn’t be like his genei, wouldn’t refuse to get them whatever assistance they needed, whatever outside intervention he could find. But he didn’t know, and he spared a brief moment to curse them for not teaching him, what help there was, where he could get it. Starscream might, Starscream knew almost everything, but Skywarp should know these things.
How could he hope to raise one tenkos, much less eight, when he was barely more than half a nipio himself? There were so many things his genei hadn’t taught him, so many things he had to learn before they were born, so he could teach them in turn.
“Skywarp,” Starscream snapped, like it wasn’t the first time.
“What?”
“I was saying, I would be happy to be your doctor, if you want.” Ratchet was holding a scanner in his hands. It didn’t look anything like Ambulon’s. “My specialty was the newly- rogimed, and I’ve had patients with multiple embers before. I won’t say that your vrefi will definitely need extra care, but between the number and the zabuyelite, the odds aren’t good.”
“Thank you, I’d like that,” Skywarp said, falling into politeness as a cover for how absolutely certain he was that he had no idea what to say. Did everyone forging need a doctor, or just those who might have sick kori? How often would he have to see Ratchet? So many questions, and nobody he could ask for answers. After all, Starscream had no kori.
“You’re very welcome,” Ratchet said. Starscream was giving him an odd look that Skywarp didn’t understand. “If you lie back and open your chest up, I can show them to you.”
Skywarp did, and while Ratchet fiddled with the scanner, the doctor talked about energon supplements and the anti-emetic properties of radiation, which was a fancy way of saying it would stay down.
“Alright, here they are,” Ratchet said, turning the scanner screen towards Skywarp. There was his spark, and faintly, almost hidden by its brightness, Skywarp could see eight tiny sparkles spinning ‘round, so small, so small.

Skywarp looked up from the datapad when the door opened. When he saw who it was, he scrambled to his feet, hopefully all traces of zabu gone from his system. “Lord Megatron, sir,” he said. “I, um.”
Discomfort flashed across Megatron’s face, covered by the mask of friendliness he sometimes adopted around Skywarp. Skywarp didn’t mind that it was fake. It meant Megatron cared about Skywarp’s comfort more than his own. “Skywarp,” he said gently, sitting in the chair. “I thought we were long past that.”
Skywarp nodded, and at a gesture from Megatron, sat back down on the berth. Like most fliers, he much preferred sitting where he had plenty of room for his wings. “I’m sorry, but Ratchet said I couldn’t go with you to hunt down Jhiaxus, that it was too dangerous.”
“Keeping you safe is my priority right now,” Megatron said, leaning forward. “Starscream has arranged for a temporary replacement. Two, actually.”
“I’m sorry to be a bother.” Skywarp fisted his hands on his knees. Replacements? If anything happened to Megatron, he would find them and dent their faces. He might just do that anyways. With his fists.
“I wish we had Jhiaxus where I could see him. But I see you have a guard of your own?”
Skywarp nodded. “Starscream says it’s because he’s the best, not because he’s his sieziegos.”
“Yes, I have met Thundercracker,” Megatron said. “You are safer with no-one else.”
Skywarp looked down at his feet, away from Megatron’s gaze. Did he tell Megatron he would be safer with Megatron himself? Or did he agree and not impose on the Lord High Protector? “I’ve met him a few times before. He’s nice. And Starscream likes him.”
“And he’s certainly protective of you,” Megatron said with a raised brow ridge.
“I’m sorry!” Skywarp blurted to the wall behind Megatron’s head. “I just, I know now I shouldn’t have, but at the time…”
“Peace, Skywarp,” Megatron interrupted, putting a hand on Skywarp’s wrist. It was the first time Megatron had touched him. Skywarp had thought he would feel something, besides the same slight anxiety that still plagued him. That Megatron wouldn’t understand. “You needed to decide as soon as possible. Ratchet should be apologizing to you, if anyone owes anyone an apology.”
“He did,” Skywarp said, voice small. “I talked to him this morning. He didn’t mind, he even said he’d take care of me personally instead of transferring me to a stranger.”
“That’s good. Ratchet was the best, once upon a time, though his specialty was the newly-sparked.”
“He told me that, and that he’d brush up before they came. In case something was wrong with them.”
“So you are going to keep them, then.” Skywarp couldn’t tell what Megatron was thinking. He cared enough to hide it from Skywarp, to let Skywarp make his own choice.
Skywarp nodded. “I…want them,” was all he could force out of his swiftly-freezing vocalizer. He couldn’t tell Megatron about the eight tiny miracles he’d carried out of that pit. Of the eight before, held so close to his spark they’d died without its radiance. He couldn’t tell Megatron about the strength he drew from their fragile embers. Even if he could find the words, nobody would understand. He wasn’t going to die, no matter what the risks were. They saved him, and he’d need a whole lifetime to repay all eight of them.
Megatron traced a seam on Skywarp’s wrist with his thumb. “Good,” he said. “I know we never talked about vrefi, but if you don’t want people to know, I would be honored…if you chose to claim me as their code donor.” Most everyone would assume that anyways, since as his pallakos Skywarp had promised to interface with no-one else. But that was all they had promised, faithfulness in the berth and nothing more. In the eyes of the law, these nipii would be Skywarp’s alone, only Skywarp’s responsibility to feed and house, and when the contract ended Megatron would have no more right to them than Skywarp would to Galvatron.
Skywarp bowed his head, unable to look Megatron in the eye. “Thank you,” he said, the offer more than he dreamed of. He knew Megatron wouldn’t be so cruel as to cast him out, but to save him from a lifetime of tedious explanations? Skywarp didn’t know what he expected, but not this.
Megatron stood, and drew Skywarp close to his chest. “Anything you need,” he said, stroking the Seeker’s wings. “You didn’t think I’d make you do this alone?”
“You are so busy, with things so much more important than me,” Skywarp whispered. Just to be here, in Megatron’s arms, made everything suddenly seem possible.
“I will always make time for you,” Megatron promised. “I will never stop loving you.”
Skywarp just nodded, unable to muster words for a fear he didn’t know he had. But he should have, he should have known, he’d seen it firsthand. Pallakis had seemed like a good idea when Starscream suggested it, but now, he had no protection, no right…he clutched at Megatron’s armor suddenly, afraid of breaking the tenuous thread between the two of them. He envied Starscream, fiercely, for the promises Thundercracker had made. The promises he would never dare to ask the Lord High Protector to make.
“Let me cancel my appointments for the day,” Megatron said. “Unless you have something to do?”
Skywarp shook his head, and Megatron reached up to cradle it still in one deadly-strong hand. Skywarp had loved that, once upon a time, loved to feel Megatron’s strength surrounding him, protective and fierce, but now it just reminded him of other hands holding him down, not nearly so welcome, unable to move even enough to bite.
But he didn’t dare say anything, for if there was ever a time for Megatron to leave him, now was it.

The Prime’s office was an imposing chamber, with the weight of history and the optics of past rulers of Cybertron observing what their successors did with their legacy. Optimus’, on the other hand, was a cozy cupboard bursting with datapads and battered furniture. Skywarp knocked on the plain, out of the way door twice, wondering where the guard was, and limped in the room when Optimus shouted an invitation.
“Skywarp!” Surprised, Prime rose from his seat and hurried to assist Skywarp to one of the room’s two chairs. “What are you doing here?”
“You wanted to see me, sir,” Skywarp reminded him. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later.”
“No, it’s fine.” Optimus sat back down in his own chair. “I just wasn’t expecting you up and around so quickly.”
Skywarp shrugged. “Ratchet does good work. What did you want?”
“We arrested Jhaxius.” Skywarp felt his hands curl into reflexive fists at the mention of his name. “I was hoping you could give me an official statement of what happened to you.”
“Sure,” Skywarp said.
Optimus didn’t say anything for a long time. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said, finally.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything you can tell me.”
“Okay. That’s not much. He got in touch with me because he was doing a thing with people who’d left Sunstorm like I did, and he wanted me to come with him to talk to them. The first night there, he drugged my energon. Ambulon told me that. Do you know what happened to him? He turns into a leg, he’s got flaky paint and scary organization skills.”
“Yes, we picked him up,” Optimus shook his head. “You’re safe from him too.”
Skywarp frowned in confusion. “But Ambulon’s cool. Jhiaxus kept me drugged for a couple of paracycles, and locked up in that building where I was.” He shivered. “The window was really unnecessary because I kept walking into it.”
Optimus made some notes. “You didn’t go to Tesarus?”
“No, sir. He kindled embers in me. With science.”
“Did he,” Optimus paused. “Did he force you?”
“No, sir,” Skywarp said. “He had zabu in me and I couldn’t fight. And sometimes the energon would taste funny and I’d lose a whole day.”
“I understand,” Optimus said, tapping at his console. “Who donated their code?”
“I don’t know, sir.” Skywarp tried and failed to not fidget. “I just lost a day and woke up hot and achey, and Ambulon would fill me in.”
Optimus nodded. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“Ambulon’s a good guy,” Skywarp said. “He wasn’t happy about it but he couldn’t leave any more than I could. Oh, and he said to tell you the variable was the number of mods.”
“I’ll pass that along.” Optimus sighed quietly, so quietly Skywarp doubted he was supposed to hear it. “If there’s anything you think of later, my door’s always open for you.”
“Yes, sir,” Skywarp said, standing up.
“Or if you ever want to talk,” Optimus continued. “About anything.”
He looked so earnest, so hopeful, that Skywarp could barely stand it. Optimus had always tolerated him before, friendly when they met but never seeking him out. What did this change mean? Did he think Skywarp weak now? Too weak to take care of his embers? “I understand, sir. Is there anything else?”
Optimus stood up, slowly. “No, Skywarp,” he said, crossing the room and opening the door. “Thank you for helping.”
“You’re welcome, sir,” Skywarp said, making his escape. Megatron was off doing a troop review, but perhaps Slipstream would be free? He’d go find out, and put the Prime’s strange behavior behind him.
As he warped closer to Slipstream’s office, he spared a thought and a prayer for Ambulon. A fellow walkaway from Sunstorm, Ambulon was the one bright spot in the hazy cloud of his drugged memories. Skywarp hoped they wouldn’t blame him for what Jhiaxus did. He didn’t know what Ambulon was threatened with to stay, but he was glad the medic had stuck around. He’d been the one tolerable thing in that whole damn nightmare.

Starscream knocked perfunctorily on the door, and keyed it open. Skywarp was draped over the desk chair, waving a gamepad around as if that would help him beat the level. Some of his games worked like that; from the foul language pouring off him, this was not one of them.
“When was the last time you left this room?” Starscream asked. He remembered the first deca-cycles Skywarp had lived with him, after fleeing his family home, completely unprepared for the real world. Skywarp had sat on the couch and played video games or watched television for hours on end, unwilling to be seen by his genei’s friends on the street alone. And the first paracycles, when Skywarp had called him for permission every time he left the house. It wasn’t his fault. Skywarp knew that his genei hadn’t raised him to function in normal society, but it took him a long time to grasp just how big the differences were between regular Cybertronians and Sunstorm’s followers.
“Uh, this morning?” Skywarp guessed, turning off the gamepad with more force than strictly necessary. “Slipstream didn’t want to go hold hands at the charity clinic without someone to appreciate her snark. It was the day the addicts come in for new injectors.”
Starscream blinked in surprise. After paracycles spent drugged, raped and tortured in the clutches of a mad scientist…but no, he wasn’t going to judge Skywarp. Skywarp was an adult, and he knew how to take care of himself. Starscream had seen to that.
And unlike the other mechs rescued from Jhiaxus, this wasn’t the first time Skywarp had gone through hell, or even the fifth. Which was a depressing thought all on its own, but Starscream wasn’t complaining that his friend seemed to be functioning. Even if he had acquired a new obsession with mori.
“Well, get up,” Starscream ordered. “You’re coming with me out to lunch.”
Skywarp got to his feet, fluid and deadly and not at all like an overgrown turbo-moose. More of Starscream’s influence; when Skywarp had left home, he’d been utterly unprepared for anything resembling a job, with no education and less skills. Starscream had pushed him through getting his certificates for private security, eventually. It had taken Skywarp a long time to settle on that. It had taken Skywarp a long time to realize he had a choice to do something beyond caring for nipii or running messages. “Okay,” he said. “What’s the occasion?”
Starscream shrugged. “Haven’t seen you in a deca-cycle.”
“And so?” Skywarp asked, following Starscream down the hall.
“And so I wanted to make sure you were staying out of trouble,” Starscream snapped, but there was no heat to it. The launchpad was clear, and the two Seekers folded themselves into alt-mode.
“Where do you want to go?” Skywarp asked over the comm.
“The Rusty Taco.” Starscream banked west, and Skywarp followed. The Rusty Taco was all the way on the other side of the city, but Skywarp flew easily, chatting the whole time about some new game he was playing and all the different aliens to shoot.
Starscream listened with half an audial, watching Skywarp for any hint of physical weakness, any hint of emotional turmoil. But he couldn’t find anything beyond vague anxiety about finding a replacement before the mori were born, and wanting a third cube. Starscream tried not to be disappointed that Skywarp had bounced back so quickly, but he couldn’t help it. Something had to be wrong, and either Skywarp was lying to him -or Skywarp himself didn’t know.
But wherever it was lurking, it stayed quiet through lunch, through returning Skywarp back to Megatron. Starscream should have went back to his office, but there was nothing he couldn’t finish at home, and he had a sudden need to see his sieziegos.
“What’s wrong?” Thundercracker asked when Starscream came home in the middle of the day, and sat on the couch next to him. At first Starscream didn’t say anything, but Thundercracker muted the soap opera and pulled him into an embrace.
Starscream sighed, and nearly denied that anything was out of reflex, but this was Thundercracker. “Skywarp,” he said, leaning back in blue arms and stretching his legs along the couch. “He’s okay. How, in the name of all that is logical and sane, is he not a gibbering wreck?”
Thundercracker was quiet for a long minute, hands moving over Starscream’s arms in long, slow strokes. He rested his chin on Starscream’s shoulder. “The umizoomis never quite figured out we weren’t organic,” he began. “First they thought we had pilots, then they thought we were all drones, remote controlled, maybe.”
Starscream waited. Thundercracker usually had a point to his stories, even if he did have an endearingly annoying habit of starting at the beginning. He settled in against Thundercracker’s chest, letting Thundercracker hold him safe and protected. Such things were important to his sieziegos, even in their house, miles from any enemies.
“So when a mech was captured, he wasn’t treated as a prisoner of war, but as enemy tech,” Thundercracker continued. “And we always rescued them, or tried to, but it wasn’t exactly easy. Some soldiers we took paracycles to reach. I’m sure you can imagine what it was like for them. Less specific than what happened to Skywarp, but in a lot of ways, it was the same.” He sighed. “And some of them, when they came back, wanted to be okay so badly. To have it not have happened. And some of them were in denial -they were free and healthy and alive, and that meant they must be all right.”
“But they weren’t,” Starscream murmured.
“No, they weren’t. They were hurt somewhere deep inside, hiding it even from themselves. And the thing about hidden wounds is, well.” Thundercracker paused, and when he continued Starscream could hear the rueful grin in his voice. “That metaphor got away from me. There’s not really a good one, I think. There’s nothing quite like being held prisoner and violated in ways we haven’t even names for.” He sighed. “And even if he agreed to get help, if it’s too soon, then he’s supposed to be fixed and he won’t be.”
Starscream waited, with a patience reserved for Thundercracker alone. Thundercracker never spoke of the Umizoomi clusterfrag. “Skywarp’s not planning to kill himself, so we just have to wait for him to realize he’s not okay.”
“So we’re supposed to just play along with his delusion?”
“Yes,” Thundercracker drew Starscream a little closer. “And not make him afraid we’ll get frustrated and give up. Just wait for him to ask, and not tell him he’s doing it wrong. And help him when he asks for it.”
“That is the stupidest plan I have ever heard of, and I’ve seen Shockwave’s budget proposal,” Starscream said. “Maybe for soldiers, but this is Skywarp. He’s an idiot.”
“Then maybe he’s too stupid to understand,” Thundercracker said softly. “But I don’t think he is. I think he’s afraid of you and doesn’t trust me. That’s okay, I wouldn’t expect him to.”
“And why would he be afraid of me?” Starscream demanded.
“Well, afraid of disappointing you,” Thundercracker corrected himself. “He’s a good kid, but if you drag him down to therapy he’ll go, I’d put money on it, and he’d try, but these things can’t be forced. Not even by him. I’ve seen this before. Do you trust me?”
“Of course!” And just like that, Starscream’s irritation dissolved. Of course he trusted Thundercracker. It wasn’t his fault Skywarp wasn’t acting as Starscream expected -and for Skywarp, from Thundercracker, Starscream would take the correction.
“Then we give him time, and we let him know when he’s ready that we’re here for him, and there’s no time limit.” Starscream couldn’t stop his smirk; Skywarp had cast his spell on his sieziegos. Well, good. Skywarp needed more friends, would need more in the days to come. “Right now, they said, the most important thing was letting him have control. And unless he’s going to hurt himself…”
“Like with his insane plan to carry eight embers at once?”
Thundercracker didn’t have an answer for that. “It’s not going to be easy to do. But people try to help, and you’ve said he’ll try to please his friends.”
“Skywarp doesn’t have any friends,” Starscream said with a snort. “There is Megatron, and there are people who tolerate him for Megatron, and there are people who use him to get to Megatron.”
“And you,” Thundercracker said.
Starscream snorted again. “He is not my friend. He is my obnoxious younger adelfos that magically appeared on my roof one day and hasn’t left me alone since.” And crushed the minion Starscream had been building. “Friends like he’s going to need, he hasn’t had nearly enough time to make. You can blame that on his genei.”
Thundercracker nodded, and kissed the back of Starscream’s head. “I’ll just have to work fast then. We need to look out for him, and wait, until he can tell us what he needs. And protect him from well-meaning idiots who might accidentally hurt him.”
“Does that include himself?”
Thundercracker dropped another kiss on Starscream's head. “Yes.”

“Megatron?” Optimus Prime said. “What do you think?”
“I think we should break for some energon,” Megatron said, tearing his gaze from Skywarp. Optimus wouldn’t notice, no-one else would notice, but Skywarp was chewing on his top lip, like he always did when he was hungry. “Skywarp, will you join us?”
“Sure,” Skywarp said, ambling over. He was almost completely recovered from his ordeal, and Megatron didn’t know what was worse. That he had learned to recover so quickly, or that it had happened in the first place.
That the worst part was how Megatron had sent him into Jhiaxus’ tender mercies went without saying.
But now, to look at him, no-one would guess that anything had ever been wrong, that now he was carrying an unprecedented eight embers. Megatron keyed in down to the cafeteria with their order, plain energon for himself, half-percent for Optimus, and Skywarp’s special blend of irradiated gravidium boosters.
“Sit down,” Optimus said, sliding a chair towards Skywarp with his foot. Skywarp nodded his thanks and perched on the edge, unable to sit back fully because of his wings. He had to spread his feet and lean forward for balance, and Megatron was hit by a sudden memory of Skywarp in a chair very much like that one, hands curled around the armrests and feet behind Megatron’s head, as Megatron explored the rarely-touched inside of his thighs. Skywarp had ripped one of the armrests right off. Megatron hadn’t minded, not when Skywarp apologized so prettily.
Was Skywarp up for such things? Megatron would have to check the central cortex and find out. He couldn’t just ask him. Skywarp was a silly little hedonist who’d say yes, for Megatron’s sake if for nothing else.
“How are you feeling, Skywarp?” Optimus asked. His thoughts often followed, if not the same flight path as Megatron’s, at least the heading.
Skywarp shrugged, one hand creeping over his chest, where his foundry lay under his plating. “Okay, for the most part. A little sick sometimes.”
Megatron quirked a brow at him. “A little?”
“It’s not so bad I can’t do my job,” Skywarp defended himself hotly.
“They say the sicker you feel, the healthier your ember,” Optimus said. “If you feel you need to, we will of course allow you to rest and save your strength for them.”
“I don’t know where I’d find someone half as good as you,” Megatron said, giving Optimus a speaking look. Skywarp took it badly, when someone implied he was Megatron’s bodyguard because he was his pallakos, and not because he was one of the strongest warriors Megatron had ever met.
“No,” Optimus agreed, spreading his hands, “that would be difficult. Your health comes first, always, and it is your choice, always.”
Optimus was a real idiot sometimes, and Megatron fought to not roll his eyes. If it was left up to Skywarp, the Seeker wouldn’t leave his post until he was unconscious or dead. Megatron appreciated the loyalty, but at the same time, he didn’t want Skywarp to burn himself out. “If they are right,” he said, half a growl, “then these are the healthiest embers to ever be kindled.”
Skywarp smiled, wryly. “Yeah, they’re picky about their fuel.”
“What are you going to do once they come?” Optimus asked, leaning forwards. “You are taking a little time off, yes?”
“Yes,” Skywarp said, “until they’re old enough for the crèche. We’re turning one of the rooms in our suite into a nursery.”
“Probably the study,” Megatron said. The door opened, and a remote drone rolled in with their energon. It beeped a warning and came to a stop in front of Optimus.
“Thank you, friend,” Optimus said gravely. He passed out the cubes, and sent the drone back downstairs.
Skywarp sipped his energon. “I’ll probably have to take off a little before they’re independent,” he said. “But I have plenty of time to find a replacement.”
“You speak as if that is an easy task.” Megatron watched Skywarp closely, but the energon didn’t seem to disagree with him.
“What about Thundercracker?”
Megatron didn’t need a bodyguard, except for ceremony, and while Thundercracker was certainly the most qualified he would much rather shoot the gold-digging social climber than let him watch his back. But for the sake of his Minister of War, and his pallakos, who was the next thing to Starscream’s adelfos, he held his tongue. He could be diplomatic when the situation called for it.
“Thundercracker is too good at being flexible,” Skywarp said. “So he’s going to keep doing the floating thing, covering where we need him.”
Optimus picked up the hint easily and changed the subject. Skywarp may not have wanted to discuss his plans for the future, but he was more than willing to talk about his embers.

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