Chapter 26: Harbor

Eventually, Sideswipe retreated to his quarters, wanting to escape before the rest of their comrades returned and the medbay started flooding with people who might be judgmental or, worse, sympathetic of him. He was grateful now that Optimus had made him room with Ironhide for the duration of Sonic's stay; it meant that his own quarters held no trace of his son. There was nothing stopping him from flopping onto his berth and pretending it had never happened.

Well, other than the growing ache in his side saying that he needed to empty his filtration system soon, but he was content to wallow in the pain until he could get Ratchet to switch the whole thing off.

Five days. It had only been five days. Hardly anything in the great scheme of things. In a century, none of this would even matter. He wouldn't remember the squeak of his son's developing vocalizer, or the shape of his tiny thrusters.

Sideswipe opened his memory files and pulled up the handful of image captures he'd taken of his son during their time together. He'd never been great at the whole image capture thing and should have asked Mirage or Perceptor to take a few while he had the chance. Most of what he had was either blurry or ill-framed, but a few had come out alright: Sonic lying on his tummy looking confused, Sonic staring up at him while he fed, Sonic fast asleep in his berth…

With a sharp twist in his spark, Sideswipe deleted the lot. It was better this way. There was no point remembering and longing for things that would never happen.

He rolled over on the berth and curled around himself, intent on burying himself in the oblivion of recharge for however long it took to stop feeling things.

It was his filtration system that finally woke him several hours later. His internal readouts were now filled with error messages about backups in his auxiliary lines, and it felt like the tank was digging into his spark itself.

Wincing and cursing, Sideswipe struggled upright and headed for the door. As much as he didn't fancy visiting the most likely full medbay right now, the only alternative he could think of was draining his auxiliary tank by mouth, which just felt… oddly obscene. He slapped the door controls, and then jumped back with a shout when it slid open to reveal Optimus Prime standing with his servo raised as if to knock.

"Ah. Sideswipe." The Prime shuffled his pedes and cleared his throat a couple of times. "You, um… You were heading out?"

"Uh… Yeah. To, uh… to the medbay, sir. Did you need me for something?" It was odd for him to be here in person rather than just sending a comm.

"No. Or, yes. Or… Actually, Prowl wishes to speak with you."

"Oh."

Sideswipe was still unclear on exactly what role the intelligence officer had played in all of the mayhem that had gone down today. It sounded like he'd knocked Sunstreaker over the head and attempted to return Sonic to the Decepticons singlehanded, but while Prowl may have had a history of disagreeing with Optimus's orders, Sideswipe had a hard time imagining him openly rebelling against them.

"Can it wait until after I see Ratchet? I need him to fix… something."

"Of course."

Optimus was quiet for the walk to the medbay, which somehow made everything ten times worse because Sideswipe was certain it made it look to anyone who saw them like this was some kind of shame march, and maybe it was in a way. At least when they reached the medbay it was emptier than he'd expected. Ratchet took one look at the frontliner's uneven gait and waved him over with a roll of his optics.

"You might get one more batch before it shuts off completely," he grumbled as Sideswipe respooled his tube, the pressure on his internals finally relieved. "I've got a pump you can use on your own if you need to."

"What're you gonna do with all the extra?" Sideswipe wondered. They had at least five Sonic-sized servings of ultra-filtered fuel that he'd stockpiled over the last couple of days.

"Keep 'em around. It's good for a couple years if your freeze it," Ratchet shrugged.

"Good for what, though?" Sideswipe wrinkled his nose at the thought of someone else possibly drinking his energon.

"Well, we've had two confirmed cases of conception in the past year, and word through the space bridge is there might be a couple more on Cybertron. We're on the verge of a sparkling boom, and there's always someone who needs extra newspark fuel."

"Yes," Optimus put in, sounding thoughtful. "I imagine a refresher course on contraceptive methods will be in order once things have calmed down a bit."

Still trying to wrap his processor around the idea, which Ratchet seemed certain of, that at least half of his comrades were going to be parents within the next few years, Sideswipe followed Optimus's direction toward a curtained-off berth at the back of the medbay. His spark was in his throat as Optimus pulled back the curtain and motioned him inside. Prowl wanting to talk to him had never been a good thing in the past, and he couldn't imagine what the mech would want to say to him that was so important it was one of his first requests upon coming out of major surgery.

"'Sup, Sides?" Jazz greeted him from a chair beside the berth before leaning over to nudge the recharging figure propped up on it. "Hey, Prowler? Sidewipe's here."

The intelligence officer's optics flickered back online, and he focused them on Sideswipe with a grunt of acknowledgment. He looked… Well, he looked like he'd been blown up, though someone had scrubbed most of the dirt and soot off so that his color scheme was once again two-toned.

"Have a seat, soldier," he ordered, indicating a stool on the other side of the berth.

After a moment's hesitation, Sideswipe moved to perch on its edge, every inch of his plating tensed.

"So… what's up?" he ventured, drumming his digits on his knees.

"I thought you deserve an explanation for why I tried to kidnap your son," Prowl answered.

"Ah… Oh. Yeah. Okay. Um… Sure." Sideswipe may not have known what to expect, but it hadn't been this.

He waited, but Prowl just continued glowering resolutely at a spot on the ceiling, his jaw clamped firmly shut.

"You want me to do it?" Jazz asked quietly when the silence started to stretch well beyond awkward.

Prowl shook his helm and drew in a deep breath. "I had a sparkling," he blurted all at once. "Near the beginning of the war. His name was Pace. He was..." The crease between his optics started to smooth. "...perfect."

Sideswipe reset his own optics several times, unsure what to do with this information, and then Prowl went and dropped an even bigger bomb on him: "But his sire was a seeker."

The word 'hypocrite' began welling up the back of Sideswipe's throat.

Prowl's shuttered his optics with a beleaguered sigh as if he could hear the young mech's thoughts. "Yes, Sideswipe. With a Decepticon. I was young and stupid and thought she loved me more than she loved the fighting." He paused and swallowed thickly. "Point is, I ended up a high-ranking Autobot officer carrying an enemy's sparkling."

"That… couldn't have been easy." Sideswipe was itching to ask what had happened to Prowl's Decepticon lover, but had a feeling that was one part of this story he wasn't going to get.

"I tried to hide it, but Ratchet figured it out when I started sleeping through shifts."

"I shoulda figured it out before that," Jazz muttered.

"We pretended Jazz was the sire, but when he came out with wings… I had to tell them the truth. Optimus didn't think it was wise to keep him around. 'An Autobot command center is no place for a sparkling—especially not a Decepticon's.' He said that to me. Said Pace wasn't safe at the base. That it wasn't safe for anyone to know he was mine. Wasn't safe for me to have such a massive distraction in my life… So I let them take him."

The intelligence officer paused again, swallowed thickly several times, and Jazz reached out to take one of his servos. Sideswipe suddenly recalled the look on Prowl's face when Optimus had first said they'd be bringing Sonic to the Ark with newfound clarity.

"They were taking him to a neutral colony they'd be passing on a recruiting mission," Prowl went on, his voice taking on a slightly strangled quality. "Optimus knew someone there who was willing to take care of him. They called me two days after they left. I knew something was wrong. Ratchet looked so… And he was just lying there. On the table—he was so tiny, and… he looked so cold, and I couldn't…"

Sideswipe didn't know where to look or what to do with his servos. Prowl was still just staring at the ceiling with a hollow look in his optics that was somehow worse than if he'd been crying. The intelligence officer took a deep breath, and when he continued, his voice was more even.

"We never knew why it happened until Skywarp and Megatron called last night. My son was a seeker. He died because I wasn't there, and I wasn't going to let that happen again."

"That's…" Sideswipe didn't have words for what that was. "I'm so sorry, sir."

"I didn't call you here for your pity," snapped Prowl.

"Well, what did you call me here for, sir?" Sideswipe demanded, irritation flaring. Really, he appreciated the explanation and how difficult it must have been for Prowl of all people to give it, but he had enough grief on his plate without his superiors adding to it.

"I don't know," the intelligence officer sighed, shuttering his optics now. "Because I felt bad for once in my life? Because talking about him makes it feel more like he actually happened? Because Ratchet pumped so much morphite into my system it feels like I'm on the Cloud Walk at Six Lasers?"

Fair enough, Sideswipe conceded, picking at a spot of chipped paint on one of his digits from where he'd hit his brother earlier.

"At any rate, that's all I had to say. You can go now."

The young mech looked up sharply. Were they seriously just going to drop that on him and send him off? But Prowl had an arm over his optics now, and Jazz was kindly but firmly waving him off.

Sideswipe stood up, and Six Lasers had been ash and slag long before he was a mech, but he imagined the odd disconnect between his processor and his legs as they carried him out of the medbay was rather what the famous Cloud Walk must have felt like. He paused outside the door, leaning against the wall beside it while he tried to process it all.

Prowl had a son. With a Decepticon. The idea of Prowl being with anyone was absurd enough, but… a Decepticon seeker? And a femme at that! And they'd had a sparkling. Well, Prowl had had a sparkling. Primus knew if this unnamed Decepticon had ever been aware of her son's existence. Had she known what she'd had and lost the same way that Sideswipe had? The young mech wondered how long Optimus had let his first lieutenant keep his son before taking him away. How old was Pace when he died crying for a creator who thought he was doing what was best for him? And Optimus had still been willing to risk keeping Sonic after the Decepticons had told them what would happen.

The medbay doors slid open next to him, and it was the Prime himself who walked out, stopping when he caught sight of Sideswipe.

"Ah, Sideswipe," he began. "I was looking for you. I'd wanted to—"

"To what?" the young mech interrupted sullenly. "Ruin someone else's life?"

"No, I…" Optimus hesitated, something Sideswipe couldn't recall having seen him do before. "To apologize."

"To who? Me? Skywarp? Prowl?" His roiling emotions were finally starting to converge into one focus: anger. "I don't understand! I thought you knew what you were doing! Isn't that why we all followed you!?"

The Prime put out a servo as if to steady his soldier, but then seemed to think better and withdrew it. "I understand. Truly I do. The Matrix does provide guidance, but its messages are not as straightforward as we might hope. It often leads us down paths full of twists and stumbles that make it difficult to see the destination."

"I don't want a sermon, Prime! I want my son!" Sideswipe shouted, slamming a fist into the medbay doors. "Why couldn't you just let well enough alone? I never would have cared if you hadn't made me meet him!"

"I mobilized the operation to claim your son because the Matrix told me that it would lead to the swiftest end to our war," Optimus told him, voice full of grave sincerity. "I regret that it also caused you so much pain."

"How was that supposed to end the war?" Sideswipe demanded. "If anything, the Decepticons hate us even more now!"

Optimus blinked several times. "Have you not heard? Megatron has declared a truce. We are meeting to discuss the terms tomorrow morning."

Sideswipe gaped, his emotions caught in a loop as his processor tried to pick one to focus on again. This time, it settled on indignation. "And if things hadn't turned out the way they did? If Sonic had died? Would you have considered that a necessary price to pay for peace?" Another thought pushed its way to the forefront. "Was Pace a necessary price?"

Optimus's optics dimmed with a grief so sudden and genuine that Sideswipe almost regretted his words. "I do not have the luxury of making choices based on the comfort and happiness of individuals," the Prime spoke in a quiet voice. "My role is to guide us toward the best possible outcome for our race as a whole, and that often means making painful sacrifices on individual levels."

"But—"

"Sideswipe, all sparks connect to the Matrix, and I hear your voices as keenly as any Prime's. The pain you feel at giving up your son, the pain Prowl felt losing his, Skywarp's agony when I ripped his son from his arms, even Megatron's grief regarding Starscream—I carry all of that within me everyday, but do you know what else I carry? Hope. The hopes of the thousands of Cybertronians still living, Autobot and Decepticon alike, that this war will someday end, and that they will be able to return home. I cannot ignore that. I cannot trade your pain for theirs. All I can do is trust in the Matrix and follow the path it shows me to making those hopes a reality."

It wasn't a concept Sideswipe had ever considered, his knowledge of the Matrix nebulous at best, and for the second time in so many minutes, he felt as if someone had seized his helm and forced him to stare out a window on a foreign world full of shapes he didn't recognize.

"I did not choose this path myself, Sideswipe," Optimus continued, "but I have done my best to walk it once my pedes were placed upon it. As much as I disagree with his choices, I cannot tell you how often I have envied Megatron's freedom to make them as he pleases, taking the paths that will let him see those few he cares for safe and happy regardless of the other outcomes. We have all made sacrifices to bring peace to our world. My only hope is that yours might be the last."

Starscream woke feeling warm and floaty and just a little bit loopy. When he went to wiggle his digits experimentally, he met resistance on his left servo and realized gradually that this was because another set of far larger digits was intertwined with his own. He blinked his optics on, one at a time, and found himself staring at the familiar walls of one of the private annexes in the Nemesis's medbay. Megatron was seated on a chair beside him and sprawled halfway onto the berth, deep in recharge.

According to Starscream's chronometer, it had been almost half a day since they'd left Prime on the battlefield. He recalled having sudden agonizing convulsions in his abdomen shortly after taking off, and Megatron swearing at him and calling him an idiot as they set down in a field so the Constructicons could stop him from dying on them all, and precious else after that.

Well, he was here now, and he only hurt in a vague, distant sort of way, so they must've done their jobs.

With some effort, Starscream managed to reach his free servo over and flick Megatron on the nose. The big dolt snorted awake, his servo spasming and nearly crushing Starscream's as he did.

"Starscream," he growled, rubbing at the end of his nose. "I see you're feeling better."

"Release me, you buffoon," the seeker insisted, tugging on his captured servo.

"No."

"What? Why?"

"I don't want to."

Starscream rolled his optics and gave the servo up as a lost cause. "What's been happening while I was out? Have you and Prime managed to ruin everyone's lives yet?"

"No, I haven't had the stomach to deal with Prime yet," Megatron yawned. "Soundwave has arranged a meeting with him for tomorrow morning."

"Oh, good. I should be able to attend by then."

"You will do no such thing."

Starscream pulled his face into a scowl. "You don't honestly intend to leave your second-in-command out of treaty negotiations, do you?"

"As does Prime. From what I understand, we both have a knack for choosing lieutenants who tend to be more trouble than they're worth."

"Ugh. I don't know what Skywarp was thinking going back for that Primus-fragged idiot."

"And I don't know how it happened that I was the one sitting on a pile of bombs, but you were the one who managed to blow himself up. Anyway, from what I understand, we largely have Prowl to thank for the return of Skywarp's son."

"I would've gotten him out on my own eventually."

A fond little chuckle rumbled up out of Megatron's chest, and he reached over to brush warm digits across Starscream's cheek. "It's good to have you back."

"I was only gone for five days."

"All the same."

There was a moment of silence and awkwardly avoided optic contact, and then Megatron leaned in to close the gap between them. The air left Starscream's vents as the warlord kissed him like he was trying to breathe the seeker in in turn—like he needed him the same way the organics needed oxygen.

"I love you," Starscream found himself gasping the second his mouth was free. "Fraggit, I love you so much, you fragging bolt-head!"

"Likewise," Megatron rumbled, pressing their forehelms together. "Bond with me?"

"You'll never have a single heir if you take me as your mate."

"I know."

"And you'll be frustrated almost every day of your life."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You're insane."

"And you aren't?"

Starscream grinned, caressing the other mech's battle-worn cheek. "Just promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"You'll make Prime officiate the ceremony."

Megatron snorted, ducking his helm with laughter.

"It's a perfect revenge! What else did you declare peace for?" Starscream demanded haughtily.

"Of course, of course," the old warlord assured him, stroking a fond thumb across the back of the servo he still held captive. "I'll include it in the peace terms tomorrow."

"Good." Starscream shifted on the berth. "You know, under Vossian tradition, there are gifts that typically accompany a proposal."

"Well. I did have a nuclear stockpile, but someone made me dismantle it."

"Pathetic," Starscream sniffed. "Human weapons lack elegance."

Megatron chuckled in fond amusement. "I suppose this will have to do for now." And he withdrew something from his subspace. Something that glittered in the medbay lights, and once again the air caught in Starscream's throat.

It was a crown: gold and titanium with three peaks, each adorned with a deep red starfire, a gem Starscream hadn't seen since the Crystal City fell.

"When… How…" His digits twitched tentatively toward the crown, barely daring but deeply longing to touch such a work of art.

"I instructed Shockwave to procure the materials several weeks ago, and he has had our best artisans working on it ever since," Megatron explained. "It arrived through the spacebridge the day you fell into Prime's clutches. May I?"

Starscream nodded mutely, and Megatron lifted the crown to place it caringly on his helm. The seeker reached up and reverently fingered the cold metal. He heard a telltale click of an image capture and looked up in time to see Megatron's fond smirk just before the photo dropped into his message box.

"It suits you," Megatron told him before leaning in for another kiss, and Starscream had to agree.

When the knock came on their door, Thundercracker curled against Skywarp with a moan. He knew who it was, even before the mech started shouting.

"Thundercracker!" Blitzwing's voice made it through the thick steel as he continued to pound. "Thundercracker, please, open up!"

The seeker untangled himself from where he'd fallen asleep in Skywarp's possessive grip, Nubby twitching vaguely in his own sleep between them. His trinemate made a groggy noise and pulled his sparkling closer as Thundercracker rose to his pedes and stepped to the door. It slid back to reveal the triple-changer standing with his fist still raised to knock. He blinked down at Thundercracker like he hadn't expected him to actually answer.

"Would you like to come in?" the seeker offered.

"So," Skywarp was the first to break the awkward silence, looking back and forth between his trinemate and the triple-changer perched on the edge of their couch like he couldn't decide which of his forms would be the easiest to escape from this situation in, "you knocked up T.C. Let's talk about that."

"I don't want a sparkling," Thundercracker said before anyone else could speak, and both of their optics' snapped to him. "I'm not gonna terminate," he clarified. "A few million years ago I probably would've, but I think that would be irresponsible with our species' population being what it is."

"I mean, you still could," Skywarp said. "I don't think anyone would be mad at you if you did."

"I would be mad at me," Thundercracker told him. "I've been thinking about it, and it's just not what I wanna do. But I don't wanna be a creator, either. Not now."

"Oh." Blitzwing deflated slightly. "I mean… I never really wanted to be a sire, either, but… I thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad… for your sparkling."

The last part came out as little more than a mumble, the mech's visor fixed on his servos as he worried them in his lap.

"I'm sorry, Blitzwing," Thundercracker sighed, rubbing a servo over his faceplates. "I know you like me. I knew it when I let you in here that night. I feel like I've taken advantage of you a bit."

"No, I was the one… I shouldn't have approached you when I knew you were vulnerable," Blitzwing sighed. "That was wrong."

Skywarp rolled his optics, bouncing Nubby lightly as the newspark started to fuss. "Primus, why can't people just frag and walk away without making it all complicated?" He started for the door. "I gotta go get Hook to turn my filtration system back on before Nubby gets too hungry. Might as well check on Screamer while I'm at it. Good luck, T.C."

He disappeared into the hallway before Thundercracker could ask him to stay, and then it was just him and his own mistakes in the little room.

"I wanted to court you," Blitzwing spoke after a while. "I'm sorry I got it so wrong."

"What are you talking about?" Thundercracker snorted, sinking down onto the low table in the center of the room. "In terms of conventional courtships, I'd say you're still passing with flying colors for our faction. You realize that the first time Starscream and Megatron slept together it was because Starscream snuck into his room to assassinate him, right?"

The other mech looked up with a flash of hope in his visor.

"I don't know how I feel about you," the seeker continued before he could get his hopes up too high. "But, I mean… the other night… wasn't bad. And neither of my trinemates hates you, so… I'm not saying you can't continue if you want."

"Oh." Blitzwing's visor fritzed for a second like his processor was having a hard time focusing on one train of thought. "But you don't wanna keep the sparkling?"

"No, and it's got nothing to do with you," Thundercracker assured him. "I just haven't ever wanted to be a creator. Taking care of Starscream and Skywarp and now Skywarp's sparkling is enough for me."

"Okay. Um… So, what are we gonna do with the little guy when he comes along?" Blitzwing wanted to know.

"Oh, I have something in mind, but even if it doesn't pan out, there's no shortage of people willing to take in a sparkling," Thundercracker told him dismissively. "As long as it's not, like, Motormaster or Vortex."

"Longhaul wants one," Blitzwing mused. "He'd be a good caretaker."

"We'll keep him in mind. For now, let's talk about this courtship business."

"Right. Yes." Blitzwing straightened up.

"You know that courting a seeker means courting an entire trine, right?"

The triple-changer blanched slightly.

"Megatron's gotten away with focusing all his efforts on Starscream simply because he's Megatron, but you're not," Thundercracker continued. "If you want me, you'll have to take Skywarp and Starscream, too. Not as frag buddies, but as actual people that you'll have to put up with and care about. Are you sure you want that?"

Blitzwing swallowed hard. "I don't know. I mean, I know I want you. I've wanted you for millennia. You're just… the most remarkable mech I've ever met, and… I don't know if I'll ever be able to care about your trinemates the same way you do because you're just a better person than I am, but if it's what it'll take to be with you, then I guess I'll have to figure it out."

Thundercracker smiled and rose to his pedes to approach the couch.

"Good answer," he said as he sank down beside the other mech. Blitzwing hesitated the barest of moments before putting an arm out to pull him closer, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"Sideswipe, wait up!"

The Lamborghini didn't stop walking. He'd heard enough from enough people today, and all he wanted was to go lock himself back in his quarters, maybe forever. Jazz wasn't head saboteur for nothing, though, and a moment later the smaller mech had overtaken Sideswipe and planted himself in the middle of the hall.

"Move," Sideswipe snapped, but Jazz made no indication of doing so. For a moment, Sideswipe considered shooting him, but wasn't quite so upset as not to care about the repercussions of attacking a superior officer.

"Look," Jazz started. "When Optimus said he was gonna take Pace, I coulda stopped 'im. I coulda said somethin', coulda tried to snap Prowl outta it and get him to speak up, but I didn'."

"Awesome. We're all complicit in infanticide," Sideswipe huffed, turning away.

"Nah, mech. You ain't."

Sideswipe paused midstep.

"Your son is still alive an' out there. I know you fragged up real bad with 'is creator, but Sides, trust me. If you don' do everythin' you can to be a part o' his life, you're gonna regret it for the rest o' yours."

The younger mech turned back, and Jazz gave him a smile filled with remorse.

"Skywarp isn't gonna let me within a hundred miles of his son ever again," he insisted.

Jazz shrugged. "He didn' shoot ya when y'all was in the medbay earlier. Coulda done it soon as he got the info outta ya, but he didn'. I think ya'd be surprised how much a mech'll forgive in his sparkling's sire."

Sideswipe worked his jaw back and forth, considering.

"What happened?" he had to know. "To Pace's sire. What happened to her?"

Jazz's smile fell. "Megatron found out about them and tried to get 'er to spy on Prowl. I don' know what happened to 'er. Just that she didn' betray Prowl, an' we never saw 'er again. Her name was Nacelle. If ya manage to make up with Skywarp, maybe try askin' him about her."

"There's no way Optimus would approve of me going to talk to Skywarp on my own," Sideswipe mused.

"Yeah, well." Jazz shrugged. "That's what makes it fun, mech."