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Accord City buzzed with a strange sort of strangled anticipation.
The last time the city had this type of atmosphere was during the solar cycles leading to the official conjunx ritus ceremony between Megatron and Optimus Prime. Decked in their ceremonial finery, luxurious capes, with Megatron’s helm and face painted with war symbols and Optimus’s face traced over in intricate designs, they exchanged their vows and - at the insistence of their human friends - overlarge wedding rings. For the first time in front of such a large crowd, Optimus parted his facemask and was the first to kiss his sparkmate before the final sentence proclaiming them sparkmates had even been uttered.
Now, Optimus wondered somewhere in his processor on what event was more anticipated among their joined forces. The wedding had been beautiful, elaborate, and emotionally charged public event. The general sentiment was joy and relief mixed into one, that they could finally lay down their weapons as a whole.
But this event was to be far more private.
His train of thought was interrupted when the sparkling kicked, sending a wave of discomfort and pain through his lower belly. He continued reading the reports coming in from Prowl regarding human-Cybertronian relations and placed a servo on his back, making a noise of discomfort deep in his chassis.
At that moment, he felt Megatron’s electromagnetic field mingle with his, a nanoklik before he felt the large mass of his sparkmate sidle up behind him. He smiled and hummed a gentle note when one of those large servos closed over the gentle mound of his middle, and a nasal ridge and mouth met the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spinal strut.
“You’ve been working overtime for two cycles now,” Megatron murmured, his voice deep as he kissed the back of Optimus’s neck. “Come to berth.”
“I have a lot to get done-”
“Not when you’re a decacycle overdue.” There it was, that commanding voice that he’d always loved, a raspy yell but now soft and gentle with him.
Optimus laughed. “Even if emergence began now, I won’t become incapacitated.”
“I thought you had an entire army under your command,” Megatron rumbled. “Put one of them in charge.”
“Megatron, I can’t do that to them, especially since I’ll be out for a while-”
The other mech’s voice lowered to a dangerously lascivious tone that always sent a thrill of excitement through his neural net. “I know a few ways we can get emergence going.”
Optimus paused a moment, and then signed off on his console. Turning around - and noticing the stares from Bumblebee and Hot Rod, he took Megatron’s servo into his. He smiled at his sparkmate and then turned to the two mechs. “I should be back within the next solar cycle, given that this one,” he placed his other servo on his middle, “doesn’t make their grand entrance.”
::I’m glad I talked sense into you::
::Frag you. You know I can’t resist your spike, especially at this state::
There was something mischievous in Megatron’s spark, but Optimus didn’t think about it as he none-too-gently tugged his sparkmate out of the room, out of the building, and towards their home. Along the way, whomever was outside and about gave incredulous looks their way, and they made no attempt to hide their glances down at Optimus’s swollen middle.
He could almost hear their thoughts. Still?
He was none too pleased with his state as well. As much as he knew he would enjoy the outcome of this entire ordeal, looking upon the little face of the being he and Megatron had created from themselves, he would not miss the side effects of it.
Megatron’s smugness radiated from him like a sunbeam, and it took all of Optimus’s self control to not jump him right then and there if only to wipe that smug grin off his face. He managed to make his way to their home, a little bit of a ways from everyone else, and the moment they stepped inside and locked the doors behind them, Megatron’s lipplates were smashing against his, and he met the eagerness with equal fervor.
The other mech growled deep in his chassis and pressed him against the nearest wall, and Optimus could tell how much his sparkmate was having to hold back due to his condition. Delicate though he may have been in theory, Optimus didn’t feel quite so delicate as he grabbed his sparkmate by the waist and pushed him towards their berthroom, using his additional mass to exert dominance over the other mech.
If Optimus Prime had been told five stellar cycles ago that he would one day be bonded to his oldest enemy and peace would finally be had between the Autobots and the Decepticons, he would have gently chuckled at the commenter and asked if they were willing to share whatever marvelous drink had conjured such thoughts.
If he’d been told a stellar cycle and a half ago that he would be here, he would have counted that as impossible; he and Megatron were quite old, after all, and the chances of not just conceiving, but carrying to term were low. But here they were, trying to induce emergence by way of fragging . He’d heard the stories and only half-believed them and thought he couldn’t possibly be that desperate to get the sparkling out once it seemed that they would overstay their welcome.
Reality was, of course, quite different.
He was tired of the increasing discomfort he felt day in and day out. It amazed even himself how he could still be so agile as he pushed Megatron down into the berth and climbed over him. His mate had already released his spike, and Optimus moaned softly as he felt the wet length against his thighs. Were fire not going through his neural net, he would have teased the mech further, but he simply retracted his own panel and sank down, gasping at the wondrous tugging he felt on his anterior node as Megatron’s thick spike speared him fully.
One of Megatron’s servos reached for him, digits splayed out, and Optimus took the servo into his as he began rocking his hips, smirking down at his sparkmate as Megatron’s helm thunked against the berth and he groaned, trying to roll his hips - but again, the heavier frame won out. Optimus lifted his hips up slightly, trying to completely release Megatron’s spike but found that he couldn’t quite do it all the way, so he slammed back down and gave a very flirtatious roll of his hips.
Well. As flirtatious as one could muster while quite heavy with sparkling.
It didn’t seem to matter much to his sparkmate, who was looking up at him with passionate supernovae for optics. Megatron’s other servo stroked along his flank and then settled on his hip, digits gripping him as Optimus continued rocking on the thick spike. He rippled the calipers along the length, chuckling softly as Megatron let out a most obscene moan.
“You fragger,” Megatron grunted. “Who would have thought of this, stellar cycles back?”
“I know I wouldn’t have, but here we are,” Optimus laughed and then gasped as he felt his sparkmate’s length pulsate . “Oh is that how we’re playing it? Fine,” he set his faceplates in a determined expression - which brought a look of something resembling terror on Megatron’s face - and then he clenched around the spike in his valve even harder, a viselike grip, and rolled his hips again. The stimulation made Megatron gasp, the former warlord looking at him with an expression so unbelievably soft that Optimus couldn’t believe it was all for him .
He began riding the other mech with fierce abandon, panting and smirking at the debauched expressions Megatron was making up at him. Ignoring the twinges of pain in his lower belly and back, he leaned backwards and placed his hands on Megatron’s thighs to support him as he rolled his hips up and down.
Megatron’s servos, both now freed, came to rest on his middle and stroked along the curve. The look of longing in his sparkmate’s faceplates made Optimus’s spark twinge, and his field flared out and enveloped Megatron.
The old warlord’s vents hitched, and then overload hit him, crackling white charge exploding all over Megatron’s frame as he roared his release. Optimus clenched around the spike, once, twice, and then overload hit him as well. Through the fog in his processor he was able to maneuver his servo to rub at his throbbing anterior node, crying out as a second, smaller overload hit him.
Gently, he felt servos grab onto him and then move him so he was on his back. He felt Megatron’s front press against his side, and Optimus turned his helm for Megatron’s lipplates to tenderly meet his own. A strong, thick arm wrapped part of the way around his belly, and for the first time since they’d headed home, the sparkling moved.
Another twinge of pain rippled across his middle and back, and Optimus groaned, pulling his face into a look of discomfort.
Megatron caught onto it. “Are you in emergence?” he asked. His voice had a hint of nervous excitement.
Optimus ran a scan of his systems, and shook his helm. “Not yet. I think my frame didn’t appreciate such strenuous activity.”
The former Decepticon purred in his audio receptors. “Then allow me to take the reins in this instance.”
Before Optimus could think to ask what Megatron had planned, his sparkmate was on top of him, hovering, kissing his way down his front and stopping briefly at the swollen middle to kiss all over his belly, before trailing his way down to his still-exposed valve.
The Prime lost himself to the sensations of Megatron’s talented glossa stroking up and down the length of his plush valve lips, setting his sensors on fire again. He looked down, and was upset that he couldn’t see anything over the mound of sparkling between them, and then simply felt around with a servo to grasp onto his sparkmate’s helm.
He could feel Megatron’s smirk as he licked up and down and ate him out eagerly, and oh it was divine when his mate speared him with two digits, scissoring them and opening him further.
Time rushed by and before he knew it, Megatron had pulled his digits out and moved so he hovered over him again, and Optimus leaned up as much as his frame would allow him and kissed his sparkmate fiercely, fiery need coursing in his neural net as Megatron’s thick spike entered him again, thrusting gently.
Optimus wanted to goad him on as always, challenge him to go harder and faster, but he cursed the current state of his frame and simply arched his neck, leaning his helm back. Megatron’s lipplates attacked his neck cables, kissing and suckling them.
“Do you look forward to the end of this,” he smirked salaciously, “so I can resume giving you those rigorous poundings you desire, Optimus?”
Optimus’s vents let out a chuff and he groaned as another thrust shifted him a little further up the berth. “I look forward to the end of this in general. It was far more fun putting our sparkling in than it will be getting them out.”
Megatron’s intakes stuttered, and then he stopped as he let out a boisterous laugh. Optimus squirmed and huffed indignantly at the loss of stimulation as Megatron said, “Oh, who knew you had such quips in you, my spark.”
“You’ll stop hearing those quips if you don’t keep fragging my lights out ,” Optimus rumbled threateningly.
His sparkmate laughed but obliged, and all too soon afterwards, Optimus was a heavily venting mess on the sheets, staring blindly at the ceiling.
Megatron’s arm was around him again, slung over the curve of his belly and servo resting on his hip, with the grey mech slowly and tenderly kissing his finial. The sensation sent pleasant little shivers up and down his spinal strut, and Optimus sighed and closed his optics as the last of his overload ebbed away.
He scanned his systems again. No luck thus far.
“So?” Megatron asked curiously, bunting his helm against the side of Optimus’s face.
The Prime turned and faced his sparkmate, smiling. “Nothing yet. We’ll have to wait.” He moved a servo to cover the one that Megatron had on his hip. “Our little one’s not in any hurry to get out.”
His sparkmate let out a whining noise, one that he never would have thought Megatron capable of making. “They have to emerge at some point. Do we give it another cycle before we resume our antics?”
As incredibly tempting as it was to think about, Optimus was feeling exhaustion settling over his frame and he simply smiled at his sparkmate. “Perhaps in a few cycles. I’m feeling quite… drained.”
Megatron looked slightly dejected, so Optimus moved his servo to stroke at his faceplates. He laughed softly when Megatron’s expression shifted into something soft, and he leaned into the touch, engine rumbling.
“Those reports you were reading when I went to the command center,” Megatron asked curiously, kissing over the side of his face again. “What were they about? More news about that oil field just outside of the city that they wish to plunder ?”
Optimus had a bit of an internal battle with himself as he wondered if it was such a wise idea to tell Megatron about it. He closed his optics and sighed heavily. “Can you put a cushion under my back? I'm aching.”
A questioning rumble came from his side, and Optimus knew that Megatron would not give up the issue.
“The reports that Prowl was sending me earlier,” Optimus said, shifting and allowing Megatron to put a mesh pillow under his lower back to alleviate the pressure on his pelvic plating. “The humans are being insistent on seeing our sparkling as soon as they’ve emerged.”
Megatron’s affectionate field changed to a thunderstorm for the brief moment it was still twined with his. He felt Megatron draw it back. “We’ve told them no already. We’re not even going to allow the rest of our joint factions see our sparkling for a while. What case for special consideration are they making now?”
Optimus sighed and reached for one of Megatron’s servos, gently stroking it. “I told Prowl to continue to decline the urgency and tell them that we’ll grant them photos in the future. But definitely not now.” He shifted how he lay, trying to move the cushion under his hips and sighing in relief when Megatron did it for him.
“I don’t understand why they’re so insistent, those little insolent, slime-filled creatures,” Megatron hissed under his breath, and for all his want to come to the defense of the humans, Optimus didn’t have it in his spark to disagree entirely. “As said before, they would loathe it if we had Hook or Ratchet look in on a human emergence cycle. Why should we grant them permission?”
“There are human television serials focused on their emergences, so I don’t think I’m very shocked at their obsession. But the lack of privacy…” Optimus trailed off, knowing that Megatron shared the same sentiments. He made a face of disgust and shook his helm. “I’m not eager to have what will be the most emotionally intense solar cycle of our lives on display for absolute strangers.”
Suddenly, an intense wave of pain came over Optimus’s frame. He yelped and shot up in berth, accidentally knocking Megatron in the face with a servo as he sat up and hunched over, curling into himself and steadying his frame by putting his servos to his side.
One of his mate’s large servos was immediately at his back. “Vent, in and out. Is it starting?”
Smiling at the hopeful tone in his love’s voice, Optimus checked his system readings.
“It’s starting. We have to go.”
.-.-.
A loud, wet squeal broke the silence in the medical bay, turning into a sharp cry. Optimus felt his spark expand to a size thought never possible, and he let out a laugh and turned to Megatron, who was laughing as well and kissed him deeply, taking his face into his servos.
Through the turbulent emotions in his spark, Optimus heard Ratchet’s joyous cry. “It’s a femme!”
“She’s here,” Optimus whispered hoarsely, optics shining brightly. “She’s here, Megatron.”
“You did it. By Primus, you did it,” Megatron said, his voice thick and the expression on his faceplates one of utmost joy. “You’re incredible and perfect and I cannot express how much I love you, you soft-sparked slagger.”
Ratchet was wiping the effluvia off of the sparkling as he gently laid the bit on Optimus’s chassis. The Prime let tears stream down his faceplates as he leaned in and kissed the top of the crying sparkling’s helm. Almost instantly, she calmed down.
“Hello little one,” he whispered, awed as he looked at the tiny little being that he’d carried and created within himself for all this time. Primus, she was absolutely perfect, his and Megatron's love and sparks given a face, bared to the universe for everyone to see. “Hello,” he said, watching her tiny digits flexing and curling, her bright optics blinking at him. She cooed and then her face twisted up in distress, her electromagnetic field flaring out and mingling with his.
“I know, I know. It was an ordeal, wasn’t it?” he murmured gently. “It’s a large universe, very open, and it’s very cold. Quite the opposite of what you were used to. I can’t imagine that being cleaned felt pleasant as well. But you made it, sweet-spark."
The mech next to him finally spoke, shaken out of his awed stupor. Megatron ran his digits over one of the bitlet's helm fins and whispered, "Oh, precious one. You’ve no idea how happy we are to meet you.”
She reacted to the touch, turning her helm towards her sire. Her blue optics brightened, and she stretched an arm out, her small servo brushing against his wrist. Optimus smiled at her, letting droplets of fluid trickle out of his optics. Primus, how she was so precious.
There were fluid droplets gathering at the edges of Megatron’s optics. Optimus reached out with his free servo and gently stroked his sparkmate’s upper arm. “Here,” he gathered the sheet around the newspark and handed her over to the other mech, “mind her helm.”
The little femme cooed and blinked her wide optics up at Megatron, and oh how Optimus had never seen his sparkmate so enamoured of anyone. The former Decepticon gazed down at this tiny little life, so small and precious, the most precious being in the universe, his crimson optics wide and bright and happy .
The line of Megatron’s lipplates quivered, and then he kissed the little femme on her helm crest. “I will tear down the universe at your behest. The moment you ask for it, it will be done.”
And there it was. Optimus, half-amused, sighed and gently thumped his sparkmate’s broad chassis with the back of his servo. “Megatron, no.”
“She deserves nothing less,” Megatron proudly said as he cradled the newspark and cooed softly at her, gently stroking her face. “I will happily go to war if she asked us to.”
“She’s a beautiful little flight-frame, you two,” Ratchet’s voice said, cutting through the turmoil of softness and emotions.
Flight-frame?
He saw Megatron’s servo lift the sheet covering the bitlet and there it was - wing nubs. They exchanged a stunned glance, and then broke out into smiles. Optimus laughed. Megatron leaned in and kissed him again.
“How?” Optimus meant to keep that in his processor, or perhaps over the sparkbond with Megatron, but he let it slip out before he could stop himself.
Ratchet’s voice cut in again as he continued cleaning the little femme’s face. “It could be a mutation, or if you both go back further enough in your familial lines you’ll probably find a flight-frame.” He removed the sheet that had been used to wrap the bitlet and brought out a new one, swaddling her in it. The femmeling chirped sharply at the disturbance, her bright optics glaring at Ratchet.
Optimus was still in shock. He gazed at the area where the sheet covered what he now knew were little wings, thankfully not emerged otherwise manual removal would have been required. He reached out and stroked the bitlet’s helm, watching as she leaned into his touch, his gentle touch that she’d been yearning for.
“A flight-frame,” he whispered in awe. He gazed at Megatron again.
The warlord smiled at him; Optimus noted how it didn’t entirely reach his optics. “I, regretfully, know a few mechs that we can ask about this.”
.-.-.
Optimus tucked the sheet around the sparkling - Andromeda, they’d decided, telling Ratchet her name and oh how Optimus was so proud when Ratchet made a noise of approval. He clicked his glossa against his dentae and cooed gently at her as she stirred. A tiny servo peeped out from the folds of the blanket that she was wrapped in.
“Did you send the announcement?” he asked quietly.
Megatron gave a slow nod against his shoulder strut, not having removed it for the past half-cycle. “And I’ve contacted them .”
The Prime chuckled. “I would say ‘good’ but I’m not certain if this is such a good thing.”
“It’s Starscream and his gruesome twosome. By that definition, it’s never a good thing.”
Ratchet entered the room, a look on his face as he said, “You three have visitors. They’re very insistent on seeing her,” he gestured to the sparkling cradled against Optimus’s chassis. “I can’t imagine why,” he commented dryly.
Optimus nodded. “Let them in.”
::Are we going to regret this?::
::Megatron, hush::
A flurry of frames entered a moment after Ratchet exited and crowded around the berth.
“Oh that explains a lot ,” Starscream said, gazing at the tiny bundle in Optimus’s arms. “Thundercracker felt it first, and then he told Skywarp and I. Hmph. I thought his sensor-net was glitching.”
Optimus protectively wrapped his arms further around Andromeda, who squeaked softly in her recharge and twisted her face up in a yawn as she dreamed. “What exactly do you refer to?”
“Those wings,” the seeker said, tone full of attitude as if his point should have been incredibly obvious. “She’s a flight-frame. Flight frames can all sense one another.”
Glancing at Megatron next to him, Optimus raised both of his optic ridges. His sparkmate gave him an equally quizzical look and then looked down at the sparkling whose wing buds were fully hidden by the blanket, as Starscream sneered, “Of course you both wouldn’t understand. Ground grunts like yourselves aren’t as educated as us flight frames are, so I don’t know why I expected you to know .”
Megatron’s electromagnetic field filled with tension. Optimus reached one of his arms out, gently touching Megatron’s shoulder to calm him, before he reset his vocalizer and looked again at the Air Commander. “I’m curious to know how flight-frames can “sense” each other, Starscream,” he said in the most polite tone he could muster. “Would you care to enlighten us?”
One of his wings twitched, and then Starscream gazed at his trine for a moment, then looked back at them. This time, Thundercracker spoke. “That last meeting that was held with the humans when Megatron threatened to, what was it? ‘Coat the table in human blood’ I think it was. Anyway, we were exiting after they all scampered off, and she sent a pulse out. I caught onto it.”
Optimus remembered. It had been that meeting where one of the government ambassadors, on behalf of the president, had insisted on being present for the birth. Megatron roared and onlined his cannon, all the humans scattered for shelter, and Soundwave stepped in to physically restrain Megatron from shooting as Optimus was not in a state to do so.
After hissing that this event would be private and stay so, the humans had been taken out under heavy guard, and Megatron buried his face in Optimus’s shoulder, muttering more threats and growls of how dare they .
A strong movement from the sparkling had preceded a curious pulse in her electromagnetic field, intrigued by all the commotion she could only just hear. From his peripherals, Optimus saw Thundercracker’s helm turn his way and his optics focus intently on him for a klik, then watched him saunter off with the rest of the Trine.
“There’s a frequency embedded in each spark signature,” Thundercracker was now saying, his voice shaking Optimus out of his memory. “Grounders have their own specific one, as do triple-changers, and fliers. We’re able to pick up on them more easily because, well,” he gave a one-shouldered shrug, and his wings twitched.
Optimus stared at the blue seeker for a moment, then down at the tiny flight-frame in his arms. Her optic covers fluttered, and she yawned again, one of her tiny servos reaching out for no one in particular. One of Megatron’s servos caught it, gently stroking the pad of his thumb over the tiny hand, before lowering it.
::Don’t::
::We don’t fly, Megatron. We know nothing about flight-frames, and their language and traditions. It would be best for her to be exposed to and learn from them::
::Even if this were Cybertron, she wouldn’t be a Vosian like all my Seekers! I didn’t think it would be this involved! She doesn’t have to learn from them specifically, I-::
::Megatron, at some point she will need to fly. And to decipher wingspeak. As her creators, we absolutely have to give her that at the barest minimum::
::But why does it have to be them ? Why can’t it be your shuttle mech-::
::Jetfire goes in and out of Accord City at a moment’s notice. He is busier than your Seekers are::
::Optimus, I’m telling you, this is bound to go awry::
::Well, I’d like to hear any other options if you have them::
A dark look crossed over Megatron’s face, but he seemed to surrender. Optimus placed a servo on one of Megatron’s, caressed the back of it with his digits, then turned to face the Trine. “Given that Megatron and myself cannot fly, we were wondering if you three may be up for helping us with the more…” he trailed off and then looked at the bitlet in his arms. “Flight-specific aspects of her upbringing.”
Starscream’s wings did a little dance that took Optimus, and Megatron - if the small jolt to his side was any indication, by surprise. Both mechs looked at each other again as Starscream said, “Why, I thought you’d never ask.”
Andromeda chose that moment to wake, bright blue optics peering up at her creators before noticing the new bots among their midst. She turned her helm to look at them, and chirped inquisitively.
Skywarp laughed and put his servos to his face. “Oh, she’s so cute!” He grabbed Thundercracker’s shoulder and lightly shook it while looking incredibly gleeful, prompting the blue seeker to glare at his purple counterpart. He made a motion with his servo, as if trying to get Skywarp to control himself.
Starscream puffed his chassis out. “Well?” he asked imperiously. “Are we going to be allowed to hold our new charge?”
::I’ve a terrible feeling about this, Optimus::
::I hate to jump to conclusions so quickly, but so do I. I hope it is nothing::
.-.-.
“Oh! She kicked me!”
“I did warn you, Bumblebee.”
The yellow scout stuck his glossa out at Andromeda, and she stuck hers out in response, her tiny wings fluttering. Optimus smiled as Bumblebee laughed and stuck his digits into the tiny crib, tickling the bitlet and eliciting shrill giggles from her.
“I know I say this all the time, but she’s so cute,” Bumblebee said happily, the little horns on his helm twitching. Andromeda caught onto the motion and reached her servos outward, as if trying to grab onto them. “Are you sure she’s really Megatron’s? Didn’t think he could make something so adorable.”
“My answer is the same as it has always been,” Optimus replied lightly. “Given that he is the only mech I’ve laid with in these past few thousand stellar cycles, I should hope she is.”
“Ugh, gross. But that’s what I get for asking.”
Optimus chuckled and sat next to where the crib was, cooing softly at his little daughter. She turned her attention to him and chirped, wiggling her small pedes. “Yes, it’s me,” he said, picking her out of the small berth and cradling her in his arms. She beeped and snuggled into his chassis, her wings fluttering again.
“She keeps doing that wing thing, moving it like that,” Bumblebee said, mimicking it with his servos. “What does it mean?”
“I am not certain what it means. I know that Starscream and the rest of his Seekers make a motion similar to this when they are excited, but,” Optimus glanced down at the bitlet now snoozing happily against his chassis, “I may also not be understanding the context.”
“Well,” Bumblebee said, leaning forward and peering at the sparkling, “I can only tell that them putting their wings higher up means they’re ticked. Everything else, don’t know.” He looked at Optimus. “So you and Megatron are gonna start handing her off to the Seekers at some point, right?”
Optimus nodded. “Not until she is much older. Megatron isn’t thrilled with the idea, if I’m being honest.”
“I don’t blame him! Have you seen how he and Starscream still gripe at each other?” A look crossed Bumblebee’s face, and then he said, “That was rhetorical, of course you’ve seen it.”
“That I have. But we will handle that when we come to it; there’s little use in worrying about any other ways that Starscream might try to influence her. Thundercracker and Skywarp don’t worry me as much, but Megatron has known them for far longer.”
“Why not ask Jetfire and the other Aerials if it’s that much of a concern?”
“Starscream and the rest of his trine were there first.” Optimus remembered how Megatron had bristled at the idea of having to call them, and how he’d regretted doing so either way. “If I had contacted another Aerial, perhaps Air Raid, we might have been able to avoid bringing Starscream into the equation. And I suppose I am too much of a peacekeeper at spark.” Optimus sighed. “Jetfire also has more responsibilities to tend to in his role as ambassador than the Elite Trine do. So at the moment, they are our only option.”
Andromeda stirred and whimpered in her recharge. Optimus stroked her helm and did his usual check of her - fuel tanks, temperature level - and deduced she was likely having a stressful dream. He cooed gently at her, and watched as her faceplates softened and she yawned widely.
“How old is she now?” Bumblebee asked, curious.
Optimus watched as her optics flickered online and she peered at him, warbling softly. “Half a stellar-cycle.” He smiled at her. “Yes, it’s me again, little one. This time has flown by so quickly. It’s almost as if only a decacycle ago I was still carrying.”
Andromeda chirped happily.
“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” Optimus laughed. “You overstayed your welcome. I think you would have stayed there longer if your sire and I hadn’t started to force you out.”
The sparkling chirped gaily and patted a servo on her carrier’s chassis.
“We cannot coddle you until the end of time, even. Tonight,” Optimus got to his pedes and cooed at her, “you will be sleeping in your own berthroom.” He looked at Bumblebee and smiled at the look of confusion on his faceplates, then clarified. “It’s finally completed.”
“Oof, watch she cries all night and you and Megatron both fall asleep at the ceremony tomorrow.”
Oh. Right. That had been what Bumblebee had come here for in the first place. Optimus sighed. “Yes. That. I take it Prowl and Ultra Magnus have finalized the itinerary?”
Bumblebee smiled brightly and brought a datapad out of his subspace, handing it to Optimus. “They just need you or Megatron - or both - to look over it and approve or make any changes.”
“I would love to make a change and cancel this ceremony entirely,” the Prime said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. “But I cannot do that, so Megatron and I must make do.” He read the datapad and nodded, handing it back to the scout. “I’m mostly worried if there will be any attempts to take her.”
Bumblebee snorted. “The humans would be stupid to try. But, Spike’s got the Army on standby, and Ironhide and his team have some firepower to show off.” He made a pose with his arms that only faintly amused Optimus.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want,” Optimus muttered sarcastically. “Weapons around the first sparkling to be born in many millenium.”
.-.-.
Megatron returned from his day of ensuring Accord City was running smoothly and promptly kissed the sparkling, then buried his faceplate in Optimus’s neck cables. Andromeda warbled curiously and patted her servos on her sire’s arm.
::Was it truly that terrible?::
::Oh Optimus, you have no idea. And Starscream and the rest of his Trine are still so insistent on getting some time with our daughter::
::Why would they want to, when she wouldn’t be able to retain any information they’ll give her?::
::Your guess is as good as mine::
Optimus sighed and stroked the back of his mate’s helm, then led him to their berthroom, passing the sparkling off to him. Andromeda emitted baby babbles and cuddled against her sire, allowing Optimus a brief respite.
Now, Optimus looked over from his seat and his datapad with a biography of the most recent American president to look Megatron lying on the berth, the small bitlet to his side as he stroked his fingers over the baby’s faceplates. Andromeda batted at her sire’s digits and chirped softly every time she made contact. She kicked her tiny legs, and the unfurled wings on her back flicked and twitched excitedly at their little game. Megatron leaned close to her, almost face-to-face, and she beeped at him and kicked a leg out.
"You will be the fiercest warrior Cybertron has seen, my little one," the former Decepticon crooned as he grabbed the bitlet's legs and playfully bent them at the knee. She babbled a little bit and waved her servos. “I think even the Fallen himself would run from you.”
Clearing his vocalizer, Optimus gave a chuckle. "We ended this war so she, and everyone after her, would never have to be warriors."
Megatron made a snorting noise, which momentarily startled the bitlet as she blinked up at him in confusion. "You're so soft. It's a constant in the universe, Prime. Anyone will start a war for the most ridiculous of reasons, and it would be prudent to at least teach her how to fight."
"'Prime?' What happened to calling me Optimus?"
"I was speaking to a Prime just now." There was a little air of mischief in Megatron's tone. "Not my bondmate and the carrier of our sparkling."
Optimus gingerly got to his pedes, setting the datapad aside on a small table, and walked over to the berth. The little femme squeaked and wiggled excitedly as her carrier came close, her electromagnetic field flaring out happily. Optimus laid down and pulled the sparkling to him, curling around her and humming contentedly as he kissed her helm. His spark bloomed with utmost love for this incredible, small being.
"Being Prime and carrier are roles I can hold at once. As both, I hope she will never see conflict." He paused a moment, and then tickled her with a digit, smiling as she squeaked again. "Other than the conflicts I'm sure she will witness when we try to see whom she loves more."
Megatron scoffed. "Primus, you're so soft."
Optimus gave his mate a look meant to cut him down a little bit. “You, who cried more than I did when she wailed for the first time, when I was the one that carried and bore her from my frame, are calling me soft?"
“Oh, hush it, won’t you,” Megatron said, but there was no malice in his voice. Instead, there was a wide grin as he curled up next to the both of them, intense love in his crimson optics.
It was funny to think about - the sparkling was the only living Cybertronian who would never know fear at the sight of that grey face and helm, and the red optics gazing into their souls. All she saw was her sire, and how much she loved him.
The sparkling beeped up at her sire and her wings flicked.
“Do we have to present her tomorrow?” Optimus asked softly, more to himself than to his mate, but he would welcome an answer anyhow. He sighed and pressed his faceplate against the sparkling, spark blooming at the soft little warbles she let out as she reached over to pat a servo on his helm. “There is little need for everyone to see her paraded in front of them like…”
“Like she’s purely for their entertainment?” There was a note of disgust in Megatron’s voice. “We’ve put it off for so long, but those pesky governments,” he sneered a little bit but his expression softened as he let the sparkling play with his digits, waving in her face, “how they are so insistent on seeing what an infant of our species looks like.”
That was a fact that Optimus knew well enough. He’d remembered how Earth media had been in a frenzy when the news reached them from Accord City and they’d deciphered what the terms “sparked” and “carrying” meant. First had been the projections of their incredibly binary concept of gender roles. “Megatron Fathers Infant Cybertronian on Optimus Prime.” How that title from one of the more esteemed news outlets had rankled Optimus. He resented the onus of the sparkling’s creation being put entirely on Megatron. Then came the comparisons to their transgender population - he almost yelled that no, that he was not a “transgender male” as he was not a human nor a male in the first place. Additionally, were he inclined, he could sire sparklings himself. But he didn’t say that.
Then Ratchet and Wheeljack’s attempts at explaining their process of procreation had deemed them all “intersexed.” It was apparently far too much for them to comprehend the fact that every Cybertronian possessed the ability to sire and carry young.
After that came the hysteria of an invasion. There had been one end of the politically extreme spectrum that accused him of conceiving and bearing young on “American soil” to better his and Megatron’s chances at being fully considered American citizens - not that that was their intention in the first place, and Megatron had been offended at the mere thought. Optimus recalled that particular political rant with faint amusement.
“Oh of course I want to be an American, of course I want to partake in consumerism and capitalism and the genocide of the indigenous humans that first lived on this landmass. Not to mention, the oppression of those that so happen to have a higher concentration of melanin has its own appeal. How wonderful, to be denied basic healthcare because I can’t afford it! Rather they should WANT to be Cybertronian, how dare they demean us in such a manner!”
A tiny pede met his chassis. Andromeda hiccuped, intakes springing and drawing Optimus out of his reviere. He stroked her helm. “Well. I can appreciate the notion of their curiosity. But if they attempt to do any tests on her, they will be refused at every turn.”
Megatron’s optics flared a little bit and his electromagnetic field drew close to his frame, which Optimus knew was so he would not startle the sparkling. “If they so much as try to even get close to her without our express permission, they will be sent back in a - what is the term? A body bag?”
“Megatron.” Optimus looked up from the sparkling and glared. “We agreed when we bonded. There won’t be any murdering of humans. It’ll spark an incident, for one.”
As if to emphasize her carrier’s statement, Andromeda warbled.
The other mech huffed and pouted as if he were a youngling being sent to berth as punishment for a misdeed. “You’re too soft with them.”
“They are our hosts, and the majority seem at least thankful to us for ending this war,” Optimus said in a light admonishing tone. “We shouldn’t give them a reason to want us off planet again.”
Megatron sighed and he too buried his face against Andromeda. She chirped, twisting around, and then placed a servo on her sire’s silver helm, one wing flicking.
“Oh, I hope you come to hate the humans like I do little one,” Megatron murmured. “They’re too young and annoyingly persistent. They tend to squish easily as well, just like your faceplate.” He raised a servo and lightly poked one of the sparkling’s cheeks, causing the still-malleable metal to indent lightly. She chirped again, this time sharply. Her faceplates were pulled into a look of indignation.
“But unlike her faceplate,” Optimus said lightly as he kissed the top of the bitlet’s helm again and smiled at her as she stared up at him with a look in her optics - almost as if wishing he’d admonish her sire for the audacity - “humans should not be squished. We have to leave them alone." He paused, and then said, "And I'm sure it'll be hard to clean them out of your pedes."
Megatron looked at him with a slightly shocked expression, though, Optimus thought, less shocked than previously. His sparkmate was becoming used to his bits of humor.
“Fine. You win this round.” Megatron pressed his face against the sparkling and kissed a helm fin. “But one cycle, I’ll succeed in making her loathe them as much as I do.”
Optimus glanced down at the little femme that was now grabbing her own pedes, with that same intense look on her face that Megatron got when he was trying to ignore something - in this instance, her sire’s face in hers. “I’m certain you will.”
Andromeda chirped and pulled her pedes to her chassis, pointedly keeping her gaze away from her sire. Megatron chuckled and kissed the side of her helm before pressing his lipplates to the side of her torso and doing what Optimus learned the humans called “blowing raspberries.”
That got a reaction from the sparkling. She gave a shrill giggle and then kicked her legs, squirming and turning to face her sire, laughing, her previous indignance all gone.
“There’s a good bitlet,” Megatron cooed, kissing her helm fins. She flicked them in his face and stuck her glossa out. “Oh, you had to ruin it,” he chuckled.
Optimus checked the chronometer, and gently grabbed Andromeda, tucking her into his arms. “It’s getting late and we have to be up early. I’m going to put her to berth.”
Megatron pouted. Optimus handed him the sparkling again and smiled as he watched the former Decepticon kiss the bitlet’s face and murmur sweet encouragement to her - how she was so precious and how everyone on Earth could only wish to have such precious offspring. Andromeda gave a litany of warbles and chirps as Optimus picked her up again and headed to her new room.
The sparkling’s nursery was a mid-sized room located just next to theirs. He had taken great care to decorate it, meticulously placing artwork of the stars and Cybertron’s landscape on the walls, and painting a mural of the Ark flying alongside a great comet. On the ceiling was a starry night, nebulous swirls dancing with the ribbons of the Milky Way.
Andromeda chirped sleepily and yawned as he leaned down, putting her in her little berth, and tucked her underneath a warm sheet, making sure she was secure. She gazed up at him tiredly and gave him a smile and a sleepy giggle, reaching her arms out for him. He kissed the top of her helm and inhaled her sweet, soft newspark smell.
“We will always be yours, just as you are ours,” he murmured softly. “Rest, little one. You have an exhausting day ahead of you tomorrow.”
The sparkling warbled and her optic covers slid shut, almost obediently. Optimus stayed there for a little while longer, stroking her helm and face, spark and mind marveling at this perfect and small little being. He gently prod at one of her servos with his digit and had to stop from gasping aloud when she closed her fist around it.
Slowly, he pulled the digit out of her grasp and backed away from the berth, out of the room. He purposefully took slow steps to make sure she didn’t wake, and when there was a lack of noise from her room, he walked back into his and Megatron’s.
His sparkmate was sprawled out on the berth, vacantly staring at the spot across the room where their daughter’s crib had been. Megatron gave a dejected sigh. “She’s only a room away, and I already miss her dearly.”
The look of longing on Megatron’s face made Optimus’s spark twist. The Prime smiled and slid into the berth, curling around his sparkmate and kissing Megatron’s face. The old warlord grumbled slightly but pushed back into the comforting embrace. “She won’t be going anywhere,” Optimus replied quietly. “If you need to be sure, she’s only a room away, like you said.”
“After recharging next to her from her conception, it is too great a distance,” Megatron pouted.
Optimus gave his sparkmate a look that he couldn’t see. “Well, imagine how I feel. I carried her and have had to get used to her being out of my frame.”
“You wanted her out, don’t you remember?”
“Hush,” Optimus said, kissing Megatron over one of his audio receptors. “My point still stands.”
Megatron’s frame vibrated with a deep laugh.
Both mechs settled into silence. Then, Optimus let out a sigh. He tried not to make it the one that he emitted whenever he was thinking heavily about something. In this instance, his processor was on tomorrow, and how he hoped the ceremony would go off smoothly.
And in this instance, he’d failed to convince Megatron that his sigh was for nothing.
“You’re thinking about something. What is it?” Megatron murmured, clearly halfway to recharge.
“I worry,” Optimus admitted softly, running the tips of his digits over the back of Megatron’s helm. “I worry about how she will react to the attention foisted on her by those she does not know. And of course, I still worry that the humans may try to do something.”
Megatron stiffened and his field became heated. “Let them. As said, I’ll force them to dig their graves and then put them in it if they so much as lay a digit on her without obtaining consent.”
Optimus lay his helm against his sparkmate and sighed. “You promised a body-bag, not digging graves.”
“Hush, my point still stands,” Megatron said tiredly.
The Prime smiled, and then found himself drifting to recharge before he could respond to Megatron in kind.
.-.-.
She startled out of recharge, unsure of what it was that had woken her.
She blinked her optics and her systems auto-adjusted her vision to the darkness of the room. Grunting softly, she turned over onto her belly and chirped triumphantly when she managed to make the full turn. She raised the upper half of her frame with her servos, but the wall of her berth was still too tall to properly see over.
She chirped quietly and reached out for the fabric, gripping onto it and pulling herself up so she sat on her bottom. The room was too wide and too strange. How she wanted to be back with carrier and sire. She gripped the fabric again, trying to stand, but she fell back down and deep in the recesses of her processor, she cursed her inability to stand.
“You’re pretty determined, aren’t you? Starscream’s gonna love that.”
She knew that voice. Vaguely. She chirped inquisitively and tried to see if she could force herself to her pedes but fell back, this time flat on her back struts. She twitched a wing and blinked up at the looming shadow that drew closer and closer.
Slowly, the starlight filtering into her room revealed the shadow’s features. Purple, black, grey, and of course the bright red optics staring down at her.
“Hi there bit,” the large bot said in a gentle voice, smiling at her. Both of the wings on his back made a flickering motion. Andromeda’s optics caught the movement. She stared intently at his wings, and then a nanoklik later tried to do it herself. She couldn’t, and then she beeped in annoyance, twisting her face up in irritation.
“Eh, it’ll be awhile before you can do it, little bitty. Takes a long time, or at least it took me a long time. Come on,” the bot reached in and lifted her up, and she chirped indignantly, glaring harshly at him. “I’ve got some other seekers that want to see you.”
.-.-.
His optics opened quite suddenly, and Optimus sat up before his processor and optics completely adjusted to the darkness in the room. Megatron made a soft noise at the loss of the mass that had been curled around his frame, and normally Optimus would have found the noise quite endearing, but his spark was in a panicked state.
He got off of the berth and headed out of the room, bolting into the sparkling's nursery.
At first glance it seemed nothing was amiss, until he reached the berth.
The empty berth.
She was here. She had to be here. There was no possible way she could have gone somewhere of her own volition, for Primus’s sake she couldn’t even walk -
Optimus interrupted his train of thought as he focused on turning the room into a mess, tearing through every possible drawer and the closet and the crevices between the walls and furniture, praying that he would somehow find a chirping and bright-eyed sparkling hiding. She had to be playing a prank on them.
There was nothing.
He let out a low noise, deep from his chassis. He wasn’t sure what it was. But clearly it was incredibly distressed, as it summoned his sparkmate, and then he saw red optics staring at him from the doorway and heard a startled voice asking what was wrong.
“She’s gone.”
“What? Optimus-”
“She’s gone , Megatron!” he shouted frantically, chassis heaving. “She’s not here!”
Megatron tore through the room too. Looked in the exact same areas that he had. His rate of inhalation increased rapidly. Both he and Megatron stared at each other, and Optimus knew that they shared the same look of panic on their faces.
Optimus found himself unable to think clearly. His processor was stuck in a loop of trying to calm himself and trying to think of the next steps they should be taking to find Andromeda, but his spark kept crying out, his soul searching for her. She was online. That he could feel. But if he tried to connect to her, she wasn’t connecting back.
It wasn’t due to her being injured, he had to remind himself. She was still young and had no idea how to navigate the creator/creation sparkbond.
“-the other rooms on this side,” he heard Megatron say, breaking him out of his loop. “I’ll check the other side, the library and the common room.”
Optimus reached his servos out and gripped his sparkmate’s upper arms, optics wide. “What do we do,” he asked, his voice shaking, “if we can’t locate her?”
A dark look came over Megatron’s face. “Then we alert the city.”
.-.-.
They’d upturned every piece of furniture, tore open doors leading to closets, and Megatron had even made gouges into walls, thinking somehow that the little femme would have gotten in there. Optimus had only just stopped him from tearing down the entire house.
“She’s not here,” Optimus whispered, his voice broken.
Megatron nodded and kissed the closest of his helm fins. “I’ll alert Soundwave.”
“I will contact Prowl to raise the alarm,” Optimus said, staring longingly at the open door that led to the bitlet’s berthroom. “We should have kept her with us. Who would have taken her?”
His sparkmate’s electromagnetic field reached out, gently caressing his own frame. It was then that Optimus realized that he was crying - fluid cascading from his optics and down his faceplate, plinking onto his chassis. He put a servo to his faceplate, about to apologize for the tears, when Megatron drew him back into his embrace and lovingly kissed his helm crest.
“What time did you put her to berth?” Megatron asked after a few moments of silence.
The Prime checked his internal chronometer. “Three cycles ago. Why?”
“Soundwave, Blaster, and Red Alert are reviewing all security footage from our area and from the city’s main districts.”
Optimus nodded in understanding. At that moment, a reply from Prowl came through on his communication channel. “Prowl is sending the alert now.” He continued reading the message. “He’s… requesting that everyone report their whereabouts to him and Ultra Magnus, and for them to verify in writing that they have not taken Andromeda. I’m going to tell him-” he trailed off as he continued to read the message. “And now he’s stating that we should stay here.”
“What good will that do?” Megatron said harshly, almost in a snarl. His plating flared out. “We have to go searching for our daughter. What is his reasoning?”
“I’m not sure. I’m just going to hope that there is a method for this.” Optimus looked his sparkmate in his luminous red optics before burying his face on the plating over Megatron’s spark chamber. “I just want her back,” he whispered into Megatron’s broad chassis.
One of Megatron’s large servos rested on his back, between his shoulder struts. “We’ll get her back, Optimus. And when we find out who took her-”
“They’ll be looking down the business end of two blasters,” Optimus interrupted.
He felt Megatron’s field react a little in surprise, and then felt him nod.
.-.-.
She wasn’t in any danger, this she knew.
But she still didn’t appreciate it. Carrier and sire weren’t there with her. When they were there, she could feel at ease.
She kind of knew this mech but he wasn’t so familiar.
He held onto her tightly as she tried to wiggle out of his embrace. She chirped and chirred indignantly and insistently, flicking her wings in irritation. Andromeda squirmed so her front was to his front, and papped her servos hard on his chest.
“Holy Megatronus,” the mech muttered as he carried her through a long, winding corridor full of flickering lights and plinking noises that Andromeda was trying very hard to ignore. “You really are Megatron and Optimus’s spawn.”
Andromeda chirped loudly and then stuck her glossa out.
A moment later she felt multiple, different electromagnetic fields brush against hers. She turned her helm inquisitively, and then tried to turn her entire body but only succeeded in turning part of the way around. She put one of her servos on the mech’s chassis, steadying herself, and watched with wide optics as the corridor came to an end, spitting them out into a large, circular dome of a room.
It was huge. Andromeda tilted her helm all the way back and blinked against the bright light.
Silhouettes. There were shapes above her.
“Oh, finally you decide to show up, Skywarp. What took you so long?”
Andromeda turned around and saw this mech, called Skywarp, pull a face of indignance, and his wings arched into the air a little higher. “She squirms a lot! I’m trying very hard not to drop her.”
One of the shapes descended. It was another mech who looked exactly like Skywarp, but he was blue like her blues. She vaguely remembered him too.
“Here, let me,” the blue mech said, holding his servos out and crouching. Andromeda chirped in alarm as she squirmed again and felt herself fall a very short distance into this mech’s arms.
“Careful Thundercracker, if we really drop her, we’ll be on the receiving end of a cannon. Megatron’s cannon.”
Thundercracker. She would have to try and remember that.
A third shape, a third mech that looked like Skywarp and Thundercracker but in multiple colors, joined them. She tilted her helm to look up at him, and then flicked a wing and stuck her glossa out. She knew this one. He was often at odds with her sire, and she would watch them squabble while safely tucked in her carrier’s arms.
“Did they see you go in and out, Skywarp?”
“I don’t think I’d be alive if they saw me, Starscream.”
Andromeda chirped sharply and wiggled against Thundercracker, flicking her wings. She glared at Starscream. Where are my carrier and sire?
“Well,” Starscream said, crouching down so he was level with Thundercracker’s chassis, and therefore optic-level with the sparkling. “This practice was supposed to be done ages ago, but after all, there’s no time like the present!”
She blinked her optics, and tilted her helm at him in curiosity.
.-.-.
::Prowl. It has been two cycles now. Have you heard any news?::
::Yes, Optimus. Almost everyone has reported in and verified they don’t have her. We have Hound, Bumblebee, and Arcee leading search groups::
::Who hasn’t reported in?::
::Some mechs I hope are in recharge, but Huffer, Gears, and Starscream and his Trine::
::Understood. Where are the search parties focusing their attention?::
::The perimeter of the city, downtown, and Bumblebee’s getting close to yours and Megatron’s place. He was pretty interested when you mentioned not seeing any tampering with the window in Andromeda’s room::
::We’ve searched the area but it cannot hurt to try and have a second pair of optics do another glance. Prowl, Megatron and I can-::
::It’s best you two stay there in case of anything::
::In case of what?::
::In case she gets left at the door by whomever took her, or in case we find her and it’s just easier for us to grab you both in one go::
Optimus closed his optics and paused the conversation for a moment, thinking of the many years he’d been on Earth, and what he’d seen before. Prowl had to have picked this strategy up from the Earth police departments, who told the creators of runaway younglings to stay put in case the child came back.
But oftentimes… the child never came back. At least from what he heard.
No. He didn’t want to fall into that line of thinking. And his only comfort at this point was that if something were to happen to her that would hurt her, he would feel it. She was still safe.
::Optimus?::
::Understood, Prowl. Please contact me if you hear anything further::
When he got off of the communication line with Prowl, Optimus stared out of the closest window and pursed his lipplates. He drummed his digits on his knee, then looked again at the hallway, at the open door to the nursery.
In an instant, his mind was made up. He got to his pedes and headed for the door. Behind him, he could hear Megatron’s restless pacing cease, and then heard his sparkmate speak. “Where are you going?”
Optimus turned to face his sparkmate and drew his facemask in place, jaw set. “I'm going out to search for our daughter. Primus damn what Prowl says. I’m not going to just sit and hope someone else finds her.”
Megatron stared at him, and for one horrifying moment, Optimus thought that Megatron was going to agree with Prowl - that they should stay in place to wait for any news. But thank Primus, the moment was fleeting. He saw that look of determination cross his mate’s face, and he strode towards the door as well. “Finally. I can’t stand just sitting here and assuming the worst. I’m coming with you.”
Optimus stroked his mate’s upper arm and smiled behind the mask.
.-.-.
Her spark felt… safe?
Even in midair. Where she’d never been before. Her spark had always yearned for the sky, and she remembered being out with her carrier and sire, how she’d look up and feel her spark’s calling.
She chirped gaily and extended her limbs, flickering her wings as the room zipped by her.
“Uh, Starscream, when can I stop?”
Below her and Skywarp, Starscream scoffed. “Another klik more, and if you drop her again, we’ll have to start with you all over again .”
Drop? She hadn’t quite appreciated being dropped, even though the other two mechs were right there to catch her. She wiggled in Skywarp’s arms and chirped sharply, trying to warn him.
Skywarp huffed. “It’s not fair, Starscream! I need a lot of room to be able to fly around without accidentally crashing into a wall.”
“Well perhaps if you were a little more intelligent you’d be able to actually maneuver the air and not crash into a wall,” Starscream snapped. “Walls don’t randomly warp into existence like you do, you know.”
“Hey that’s not fair either, you always wanted me to be on guard so I can warp everyone out of sticky situations!”
“Starscream,” Thundercracker asked quietly, drawing Starscream’s attention from the airborne mech and sparkling, “what’s the point of all of this?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten the initiation rites of Vos,” Starscream replied. “At least three other seekers take the newspark to the sky and fly with them to test their comfort at being airborne, and then we toss the sparkling among ourselves to ensure they show no fear.”
“But, aren’t the creators supposed to be present and doing this?” Thundercracker countered as Skywarp descended apparently now done with his turn. He watched him hold the sparkling out to Starscream.
“Mighty Megatron and Optimus aren’t flight-frames, Thundercracker, or have you forgotten that little fact?” Starscream huffed and tucked Andromeda into his arms, prompting her to look up at him and chirp curiously. “By tradition, grounders aren't allowed to be present.”
“She’s their sparkling though,” Thundercracker replied, tilting his helm at Andromeda.
“If one of them were a flight-frame, they could petition for an exception so they could both be here. But,” Starscream activated his thrusters and slowly ascended, “they’re out of luck.”
Thundercracker gave Skywarp a glance of concern, one that Skywarp - for all his lack of higher thought thanks to always being on guard - returned. “They’re gonna be searching for her soon, if they’re not already looking.”
“So that’s when Skywarp zooms back into her room and puts her back and it’s like it never happened,” Starscream shrugged. “Not a big deal.”
“But-”
“What? It’s not like we plan to harm her anyway.”
In his arms, Andromeda chirped and spread her arms out.
.-.-.
“Have you found her yet?”
Optimus sighed and bit back the terse response he wanted to give Bumblebee - that yes, they’d found her, they just really wanted to keep everyone up for funsies - and turned around. He shook his helm. “Megatron and I have been searching for half a cycle by now,” he murmured, looking at the yellow scout. “We cannot find her.” He stared off somewhere above Bumblebee’s helm, and his next words came out broken. “We failed in protecting her.”
One of Bumblebee’s small servos came to rest on his arm, and he looked down into the earnest little mech’s optics. “You didn’t fail. Sometimes slag happens and it’s not your fault.”
The Prime smiled and nodded. It didn’t comfort him in the least bit, but he was grateful that his friend was at least trying. “I know. But, as her carrier, I feel a lot of responsibility for what happened. If only we hadn’t moved her out of our room into her own-”
“It was gonna have to happen at some point.”
Well. Bumblebee did make a point there.
“‘Cause, you know, you guys can’t keep her in your room forever.” The scout offered him a smile. “You guys will find her. She’s around here somewhere, happy and chirping and waiting for you guys.”
Optimus laid a servo over his spark and sighed. “I know she’s close and she’s not in distress. That’s my comfort right now.”
Just as Bumblebee was trailing back to his group to continue searching, a ping came over Optimus’s communication link. He took a look at the bot pinging him, and immediately answered.
::Optimus, Megatron, are you both receiving this communication?::
The first reply was Megatron’s, a tired tone. ::Yes::
::Affirmative, Prowl::
::Thank you both. Huffer and Gears reported that they do not have Andromeda, and also allowed us to search their quarters and communication logs::
::So then that means-:: Optimus began, but was then interrupted by Prowl.
::Starscream and his Trine are the only ones that have not reported in. Ultra Magnus also forcibly searched their domicile, and they are not present. And, even though we did our best to not resort to this method, we tried tracking their communication link signatures. They are nowhere to be found::
Optimus looked up at Megatron, watched his facial expression turn into one of comprehension, and then one of absolute, ferocious anger.
::Thank you for the update, Prowl. We will try contacting Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker ourselves::
::They have not been picking up on any of their frequencies. I wish you luck, and will let you know should we hear anything::
“I should have known !” Megatron spat as Optimus cut the communication link. The Prime reached forward to put his servos on Megatron’s arms as the old Decepticon shouted, “They’ve been after her for eons, trying to get us to hand her off to them for some flight-frame exposure, but at each turn we denied them! And Skywarp, of course he’d be able to gain access by warping into her quarters! It was right THERE!” Optimus heard the hum of Megatron’s cannon coming online, and he firmly put his servos on the cannon and gave his sparkmate a pointed look to try and calm him down. Thankfully, Megatron seemed to get the hint, and he powered it down. “I swear to Primus and Unicron both, when we find them,” he hissed, “I will have their sparks.”
Optimus huffed. “I feel the same, but right now is not the time for your show of dominance,” he hissed at his sparkmate.
“Dominance? Prime, they took our daughter-”
“We know they would never intend to harm her. Starscream may be of dubious character, but for some reason he, Skywarp, and Thundercrack have taken a liking to her. Try contacting them.”
Megatron glared at him. “Prowl just told us they’re not answering.”
“Because his identification shows up, and we know they consider him a lesser bot because he has doorwings. He doesn’t scare them. They might cave for you.”
Megatron’s glare softened, and then the old warlord grumbled and put his servo to the side of his helm. “Starscream?” he asked, tone terse, holding back the usual slew of insults he traded with the seeker.
Optimus watched and waited for a few nanokliks, anxiously. He saw Megatron’s face twist up in displeasure, and then he tried the next one. “Skywarp, you imbecile . I know you warped into her room and took her.” A brief pause. Then, “Answer me!”
Another nanoklik later, Megatron grumbled and then switched over. “Thundercracker, answer me, now!”
Then he got a look of surprise on his face. Optimus watched him open his mouth as if to say something, then Megatron roared. “There was a noise on the other side, but then he blocked me!”
The Prime jumped at that and put his servo on Megatron, blinking at him. “If he came online with his signature even for a moment, we might be able to track them.” He spoke into his communication line. ::Prowl, Megatron was able to get a hold of Thundercracker for a nanoklik before he shut him out again. Can you ping his location?::
::Give us a few kliks and we should be able to. Hang on, Prime::
“If only Andromeda were much older and had her own communication signature installed,” Megatron grumbled lowly. “We wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Optimus had no response to that. His relief was knowing they were a step closer to locating their daughter.
.-.-.
Of all the things that Optimus could have imagined the trine was doing with his daughter, tossing her around in the air in the bunkers below Accord City, as if she were little more than a doll, was the absolute last idea he’d had in processor. No, actually, it hadn’t even been in his processor.
But somehow it was one of the more insulting things for him to see.
They’d heard Andromeda’s delighted squealing from way down the corridor. They’d both shared a look of panic, and then bolted the length of the dark, musty, dripping hallway, coming to rest at the entrance to a large, circular room with a domed roof that had dim lighting.
Andromeda was being tossed between Skywarp and Thundercracker, who were close together, and Starscream hovering under them. She flicked her wings and squeaked gaily, chirping every time she landed safely in a seeker’s arms, almost like asking for another turn.
His instincts told him to take the seekers down. They were engaging in behavior that could hurt her. Clearly, Megatron’s instincts were telling him the same, but Optimus had always been better known for his ability to control himself. Megatron turned to him and hissed, quoted his words again, about the Seekers bringing their daughter no harm, then roared and aimed his cannon at the seekers still in the air. “I’ll have your sparks for this, you three!”
The primal part of Optimus that was bent on protecting their daughter agreed, but then he saw the bright blue optics peering out from Skywarp’s arms, and then he shoved Megatron aside and forcibly lowered his cannon, snarling at the mech. “She’s up there with them!”
Megatron’s vents expelled a blast of hot air, and then he offlined his cannon. “I would have hit Thundercracker, not Skywarp.”
“Do you really want our daughter to see your explosive anger up close?” Optimus spat acidly.
From above, Andromeda let out a joyous chirp. Both mechs looked up just as Skywarp held his arms out a little more, and brought the sparkling into better view. Her wings twitched and she waved a small servo at them.
Optimus’s spark melted.
“Starscream,” Megatron growled at the seeker that was still on the ground. “Explanation. Now .”
Starscream glared at them both and arched his wings into the air. “This is a Vosian, and flight-frame, specific tradition! You both aren’t supposed to be here!”
“WE’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE?! THIS IS OUR DAUGHTER THAT YOU TOOK, YOU INSOLENT-”
“Megatron,” Optimus said sternly, glaring at his sparkmate. “Settle down.” He looked up again and sighed. “Skywarp, Thundercracker, can we please have our daughter back?”
Both seekers looked at him, then at Starscream, then at Megatron. Clearly Megatron was the scarier one of them, as Skywarp immediately descended, and oh how Optimus hadn’t been so relieved in his life as now, as his previously missing sparkling was passed to him. Andromeda chirped and warbled, babbling. She was happy to be close to him again.
Optimus kissed her helm, and smiled when Megatron was immediately at his side, taking the sparkling into his arms and kissing all over her face and murmuring apologies.
“Did they mistreat you, sweetspark?” he cooed. “Did they scare you?”
Chirp!
“Don’t worry little one,” Megatron murmured as he kissed her cheek again, making her pap his helm. “They’ll pay for this.”
“You three,” Optimus said firmly, looking at the trine. “Explain yourselves.”
Starscream and Skywarp looked at Thundercracker, who glanced back at them, made a motion with his wings, and then sighed as he took a step forward. “Why am I always the one to explain these things?”
The trine leader gave a irritated flick of his wings. “Because Megatron’s always on the verge of choking me each time I open my mouth, and Skywarp’s too dumb to articulate his thoughts.”
“ Fine . Back on Vos, whenever we had a new flight-frame sparkling in the ranks,” Thundercracker made a gesture towards Andromeda, curled up happily and now snoozing against her sire’s spark, “we’d start putting them through tests as they got older. The first one, which you both weren’t here for, is flying around with the sparkling to see how they feel about being airborne with another bot.”
Megatron bristled. “So, when you three were insistent on taking our daughter for a brief period of time-”
“It was for these tests,” Thundercracker answered. “Starscream in particular is very insistent on performing them at the normal milestones.”
“Which are?” Optimus asked.
“Quarter of a stellar-cycle for the first test, and half-stellar for the second test.”
Optimus looked around the domed room. “So the both of you tossing her between yourselves is the second test?” he asked, a little bit incredulously.
This time, Skywarp spoke up. “We have to see how they feel about being airborne by themselves for a second or two. No one holding onto them or anything like the first test.”
One of Optimus’s optics twitched and he turned to face Megatron, glancing down at the sparkling to calm himself down, reminding himself that she was safe.
“But that’s why we do it specifically with three bots, if it’s any consolation,” Thundercracker tried to assure them. It wasn’t working. “Two passing the sparkling, and one underneath just in case of any drops.”
“Are these tests even necessary?” Optimus asked as Megatron passed their daughter back to him, and Andromeda stirred and blinked her optics as she woke.
“‘Necessary?’” Starscream spoke this time. “Not at all, unless you want to be ashamed of your sparkling when they grow up and you find out that they’re just like Silverbolt.”
Optimus narrowed his optics. “Silverbolt is a brave mech, Starscream. You shouldn’t use him as a way to insult someone else.”
“Yes, but he takes those precious moments to change into his flight mode, letting everyone get ahead of him because he’s afraid of his most basic of functions.” Starscream scoffed. “If this were on Cybertron, he’d have been laughed out of Vos eons ago. Do you want your daughter to be the laughingstock of all seekers when we can help cure her of any flight fear?”
Megatron growled. “What should it matter if her carrier is the Prime and her sire is-”
“A pair of grounders!” Starscream interrupted.
“I’ll make you a grounder, you insolent-”
At that point, after making sure Megatron’s cannon wasn’t charged up, Optimus tuned them out and looked down at Andromeda, who was looking at her sire and Starscream yelling at one another. She tilted her helm in confusion at both the scene and the noise, then looked up at him and chirped in curiosity.
“I know.” He smiled at her and stroked her helm. “They’re very loud, aren’t they?”
Chirp.
“You’ll get used to it, just as I have,” he chuckled.
“-ground pounder like yourself-”
“-boltheaded, snotty, uppity wretch of a flier-”
“-how dare, I am a seeker and don’t you forget it!”
.-.-.
Just as Bumblebee had predicted, Megatron and Optimus got next to no sleep that night cycle. By the time they’d exited the bunker, after Megatron had quieted down, and Starscream praised Andromeda for being so fearless in the air, there were only four cycles left until they were meant to be up. Optimus was only able to recharge for about half that time.
Megatron, by the looks of it, had no luck - though it was of his own doing. When Optimus roused as the first beams of sunlight regretfully filtered through the window and hit his optic covers, he looked over to see Megatron’s bright red optics keeping a close watch on their daughter. Andromeda was happily snoozing away on her sire’s chassis, curled up over his spark.
Optimus rolled over, making a noise of exhaustion and longing for recharge, and put a servo over Andromeda’s back. Her little wings fluttered and she stirred, but didn’t wake.
“Did you get any recharge?” Optimus asked tiredly.
“So I could let Skywarp warp in and out with her again? No. Absolutely not.”
“They promised not to do it again, and to tell us when they want to take her for something like that.” Optimus sat up and made more noises of exhaustion, rolling his shoulder struts.
Megatron sat up as well, holding onto Andromeda by clutching her fiercely to his chassis. “Promises hold no weight when coming from Starscream.”
“I agree,” Optimus said, taking Andromeda from his sparkmate’s arms and cradling her gently to his spark. “But I believe they hold some weight when coming from Thundercracker. He did let us track them down, after all.”
“And so he would have been the last one to lose his helm for that,” Megatron muttered.
The Prime reached out with one of his servos and touched Megatron’s arm, sighing. “No murdering of anyone in general, Megatron. Humans or Cybertronians, even if they happen to be seekers.”
Megatron turned around and placed his helm on Optimus’s shoulder strut, gazing down at the sleeping form of the bitlet against Optimus. Her optic covers fluttered and her wings flicked. Her still-small servos curled up and then loosened up as she made fists while deep in recharge.
“I’m going to imagine she’s fighting Starscream for daring to take her without at least having the courtesy to inform us.”
Optimus sighed and grabbed Megatron’s servo, guiding him off the berth. “Come on,” he said. “We have a sparkling to introduce to a number of nosy humans.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at the noisy grumbles that Megatron made.