Okay, posting this here since LJ says it's too big to post there. Written for the November 2010 challenge at the tf rare pairing community. Warnings for rape, non-con, sparkplay, eventual sticky, AU-ish-ness, and a very very angry Thundercracker. Also, I really, really, really can't thank rageai enough for her help on this. She's amazing.

Well this is lovely, Skyfire thought to himself ruefully. My third battle out and I'm already stuck. He huddled in the dark and damp, just barely able to make out the crack and report of rifle fire mixed with the heavier thundering boom of artillery through the rubble that had sealed him into the cave.

Ice, caves, I'm getting sick of being trapped.

It felt as though the ceiling was pressing in on him, suffocating him, making him long to see the sky and stretch his wings. He very carefully made himself stop thinking about being underground; dwelling on it would only make him nervous. Instead, he took stock of his situation.

He flexed every joint, pleased to see that the damage he had sustained was not disabling. The cavern was not quite big enough to allow him his full height, though he could stand so long as he stooped over and was mindful of his wings. He was just about to examine his surroundings a little more thoroughly and then see if he could make use of his comm. unit when a soft groan made him jump, helm striking the ceiling.

There's someone here with me!

He looked around hastily—whoever it was, that groan had not sounded good—and there, poking out of the rubble, was a black hand and the very tip of a blue wing.

So Thundercracker—his opponent du jour—had been stuck in here with him.

Well that's just great.

Skyfire silently lamented his luck, and went to work digging the blue Seeker out of the debris, trying not to cringe at every pained noise the smaller mech made. Decepticon or not, he couldn't bear to leave a living creature in such condition.

He winced when he finally pulled the jet free; it was obvious that Thundercracker would need extensive repairs. Skyfire was suddenly glad of his time with Starscream—the solitary nature of exploration had necessitated familiarizing himself with Seeker systems. It should not be too difficult to get him stabilized enough to survive until he was rescued.

If he was rescued. Skyfire had no illusions about the compassion of Decepticons.

Still, if he could do something to help the wounded jet, he would. He set to work, patching what he could. A soft pain-filled whisper drew his attention to Thundercracker's face—he was online.

"You Autobots are too soft," the Seeker wheezed, red optics flickering fitfully.

"Perhaps," Skyfire said quietly, resuming his repair-work. "You'd rather I killed you?"

Thundercracker looked away. "…no."

"I thought so." The shuttle's voice was wry.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't," the blue jet murmured dully, but Skyfire just shook his head and carried on.

Silence, heavy and awkward, stretched between them as he labored over the Seeker's frame, but he really didn't have any idea how or even if he should fill it. The situation brought back painful memories of Starscream, and yet it could not be clearer that Thundercracker was not his wingleader. The blue Seeker barely grunted when Skyfire's repairs hurt him; Starscream had never been so compliant. The only time Thundercracker really protested was when Skyfire began to pull away some of the glass-like material of his shattered cockpit, removing shards that were perilously close to his spark.

"What are you doing?" Thundercracker rumbled dangerously, but Skyfire could hear the panic underlying the deep voice. Crimson optics brightened fractionally as damaged systems reacted to his fear, and the blue mech kept his body almost unnaturally still.

Skyfire removed his hands, regarding Thundercracker calmly. "I'm removing debris from around your sparkchamber. I've no interest in spending the time and effort in repairing you only to damage your spark," he said, his tone soft.

"You'll forgive me for not believing you," the Seeker rasped dryly, but he turned his gaze away and made no more objections to Skyfire's poking in his chest beyond a few uncomfortable sounds.

"I'm not Starscream, you know," Thundercracker said at length, and Skyfire looked up in surprise. The blue mech shifted uncomfortably with the attention, but continued nonetheless. "And fixing me isn't going to win you any points with him."

"…I never expected anything of the sort," he replied, a little unsettled by the abrupt new direction of their conversation. "I know where I stand with him."

Thundercracker looked skeptical. "You two have a history together. It's not an unreasonable assumption, even if you're telling yourself differently."

Skyfire huffed in exasperation. "Does it really matter what my motivation for fixing you is? Once we're out of here, we'll likely never see each other again outside of battle." He was angry now, and it took a conscious effort to keep his hands from shaking as he continued his repairs. Why did Thundercracker have to persist? This had nothing to do with Starscream, and just once Skyfire wished someone would refrain from making the connection between the two of them. It was over and in the past, and he preferred not to dwell on it if it could be helped. Briefly, before he could stifle the idea, he wondered if Starscream had the same problem.

Thundercracker only gave an odd little shrug, then returned to his blankly disassociated stare at the ceiling. "I think it matters a lot," he said, but he didn't explain himself.

Sighing, Skyfire decided to just chalk it up to Seeker eccentricities, and leave it at that. He was beginning to think that all of them were self-absorbed neurotics; perhaps there was a flaw in the build.

"Battle's stopped." Once again it was Thundercracker who broke the quiet between them. He sounded disinterested, but he gave the shuttle a sidelong look that betrayed him.

Skyfire looked up at the injured Seeker, then cocked his head, listening—and he realized that he couldn't hear the fighting anymore. "Either that, or they've moved out of our audio range," he replied mildly. He was nearly finished with what repairs he could make under the conditions, and turned his attention back to his self-appointed task.

Thundercracker continued as though he hadn't spoken. "Your friends will probably come looking for you soon," he said, still seeming detached. He was quiet after that, and Skyfire finally soldered together the last broken energon line and moved away, settling next to the supine flier with his back against the wall of their temporary prison. He remembered to check his comm unit, but got nothing but static. He couldn't see to fix the damage by himself, so he resigned himself to waiting.

He'd sat there long enough to start drifting into standby when Thundercracker spoke again. "It's so cold," he whispered, and Skyfire started back to full awareness. He looked to the blue Seeker, frowning in concern—then leaned forward in alarm. Thundercracker's optics were dull and listless, his vents a little rough…but what caught Skyfire's attention was the soft glow of his spark, clearly visible through the broken canopy of his F-15 alt mode. It flickered and surged erratically, where before it had appeared strong, stable.

It meant that he had misjudged how badly Thundercracker was damaged, and he moved to kneel over the smaller mech, horrified at the thought that he might die here beside him, with Skyfire helpless to save him. That he was still the enemy didn't even register; it never occurred to the shuttle not to try.

He wracked his memory banks for a way to stabilize the Decepticon jet's spark even as he gently felt around the sparkchamber for any damage that he may have missed, but Skyfire was no medic. Even if he had been, his emergency repair kit was woefully inadequate to this sort of task; the only means available to him was—

His hand drifted up to his chest, touching the seam where the armor joined, hesitating. It was dangerous in more than one way; Thundercracker's spark could destabilize his own and kill them both…and there was always the chance of bonding, if he gave too much of himself. He looked down at the smaller mech's spark once again, seeing the flickering growing weaker and more unpredictable, and he knew that he couldn't bear to stand by when it was within his power to act.

Not giving himself a chance to think better of it, he opened his plating, allowing the steady glow of his own spark to light their frames. He bent over the smaller mech, and Thundercracker's spark, feeling another energy source close and desperate to ease its dangerous instability, all but arced across the gap to touch his own.

Skyfire gasped at the immediate, greedy drain on his systems as the Seeker's spark pulled heavily on his, struggling to align its faltering cadence with his steady one, twining itself with his very lifeforce in a frantic bid for survival. Distantly, he could hear Thundercracker's helpless moan, and realized with a start that his own voice had joined that of the blue jet.

At first, the way that Thundercracker's spark seemed to clutch at his own was unpleasant, each surge sending a jolt through both of their frames, but slowly, as their sparks began to come into synch…

He shuddered as heat started to spread through him, originating from the center of his chest and growing to set his circuits abuzz. Their sparks drifted in and out of alignment as Thundercracker's kept trying to stabilize itself against Skyfire's stronger rhythm, and every time they came into harmony, the shuttle got a flash of what the smaller mech was feeling, shock and terror starting to combine with a horrified sort of pleasure that mirrored his own.

Skyfire moaned again, this time in unwilling ecstasy, and the moments of synchronization grew longer, until it was the disharmony that became the brief and jarring interruption of sensation. Thundercracker's spark was no longer scrabbling urgently against his, but pulsing strongly instead, though still relying on him to set their newly shared sparkbeat. Pleasure redoubled, and this time it was Thundercracker who cried out, his deep voice breaking into static. He arched into Skyfire's chest weakly, though the shuttle could feel that he was trying to fight it with every bit of reserves left to him.

It was a futile effort in the end, however, and the moments of discord between them grew shorter and further between—and then vanished altogether. With a burst of horror that he had no idea how to hide from Thundercracker, and that the blue jet shared with him in any case, he realized that they were going to overload…and then they were swept up in a tidal wave of emotion and sensation, Thundercracker clutching at him as Skyfire's body went rigid above the Seeker. Pleasure burned through both of them, lighting up every circuit in their bodies, sparks spitting from those places in Thundercracker's fuselage where faulty connections had not been repaired, singeing Skyfire's plating.

Slowly, slowly, it began to recede, leaving both of them shaking in the aftermath of release, and for a long time they were both quiet save for the soft sounds of their systems cycling down.

"What have you done?" Thundercracker's voice, when it finally came, was harsh with despair and terror and accusation. "What have you done?"

Skyfire didn't know what to say. He sat up and away from the battered Seeker, their sparks separate in their own chests again, but the distance did nothing to lessen his awareness of the other mech.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hiding his face in his hands; he could feel his wings quivering at the sudden flicker of contempt and disgust that made Thundercracker's lip curl.

"You stupid Autobot," the Seeker growled. Gritting his jaw against the throbbing of broken components, he struggled to a sitting position. Skyfire looked up at that, optics too bright, frightened. Thundercracker looked even worse now that he was upright, his entire body dented and tattered, one wing completely crumpled. Terror and pain that didn't originate with Skyfire beat a tattoo in his spark, but Thundercracker gave no outward sign of anything but anger, crimson optics glaring balefully at his new bondmate. "You stupid fucking Autobot. You had no right to do this to me!"

"I couldn't just let you die!" Skyfire snapped back, wings flared, instinctively defensive.

He was taken aback with an irrational wave of hurt when Thundercracker laughed at him, acidic and mocking. "Oh, this is so much better," he sneered. "I would rather you let me die than this. What's the matter, Autobot, you couldn't have Starscream so you jumped at the opportunity to have something similar?" The depth of loathing that accompanied the question was so powerful that it left the big shuttle speechless, gaping at Thundercracker with wordless distress.

Even more surprising, after a moment, the Seeker dropped his gaze, suddenly deflating, staring listlessly at the floor. "Well, you're a fool," he said bitterly. "I can't be what you want."

And now it was Skyfire's turn to be angry. "Don't you dare act like I wanted this. Don't you dare. I never wanted to bond to anyone, not to Starscream, and certainly not to a mech I've only ever seen at the other end of a gun!" Thundercracker sneered at him again, but it didn't carry as much heat as before, and he quickly looked away. "I was only trying to save you. I didn't know what else to do," Skyfire continued softly, his own gaze skittering away, dejected. "I just didn't know what to do…"

"Stupid slagging Autobot," Thundercracker said in a low voice. He projected fury as fiercely at Skyfire as he could, but the shuttle could feel the layer of weary fright buried deep beneath the façade. He gave another cold, abrupt laugh. "If Megatron finds out about this, he'll kill me anyway for being compromised, and then we're both fragged." The smile he gave to Skyfire was thin and hard and humorless.

Skyfire began, "The Autobots—"

"Fuck the Autobots," Thundercracker hissed, not needing a bond to know what Skyfire was about to offer. "I'm a Decepticon. I'm not going to turn into some tame slagging pet that you can parade around to make you and your soft-sparked friends feel better about yourselves."

Skyfire looked away, dismayed by the profundity of the blue Seeker's abhorrence at the thought of living among the Autobots. It was almost as though it ran counter to his programming—which, it may well do so, the shuttle realized. Thundercracker was a war machine, built and programmed for battle, and that was probably part of what had driven him to join the Decepticons in the first place.

"Don't try to analyze me," Thundercracker spat, and Skyfire flushed with the dawning comprehension that he was as open to the Decepticon as Thundercracker was to him. He could feel the Seeker's estimation of his intelligence drop even further, and gave a resigned sigh even as Thundercracker favored him with a tiny, mocking smile. Then, the blue mech looked up as something Skyfire had honestly forgotten all about reached their audios.

The only way he knew that the sounds of digging and the faint calls of Skyfire's name scared Thundercracker was through their fledgling bond; the Seeker didn't react outwardly beyond his initial glance. "Cavalry's here, eh?" he asked, grinning humorlessly.

Skyfire just looked at him for a moment, not sure what to say to the wave of bleak despair that hit him from the smaller mech, then stood up carefully and called, "Down here!" There was renewed shouting, and the sounds of digging intensified. The urge to assist from this side was nearly overwhelming, but he was as likely to bring the whole ceiling down on their heads as get them out any sooner, so he stayed well clear of the debris keeping them sealed in.

"You might as well sit down," Thundercracker observed with grim amusement. "It's not like it won't take them a while to get through." Skyfire gave him a disgruntled look, but he sat, earning himself another flash of amusement as Thundercracker laboriously inched himself over to sit with his back against the cave wall. The moment was short-lived, however, and they quickly lapsed into tense silence once more.

Skyfire kept sneaking peeks at the blue Seeker, but, despite the dread and apprehension growing in exponential leaps and bounds in Thundercracker's spark, the smaller jet looked unmoved, his expression carefully bored. Occasionally he got a brief impression of hysterical laughter, and he frowned at that until he realized that Thundercracker was laughing internally at him every time he caught him looking. "I'm not going to vanish," the Seeker drawled finally, lips twitching with the effort of holding back his snickering, though Skyfire thought that the hilarity was as attributable to Thundercracker's nerves as anything else. The shuttle just shook his head and looked away again. It was a small eternity of listening to the rescue party getting closer before the pile of rubble closing them in began to shift, and Skyfire sat up straighter, alert.

"Figured out what you're going to do with me, Autobot? You're running out of time," Thundercracker taunted, the tension in his voice belying his attempt to sound condescending. There was no way the Seeker would be able to get away, not in his damaged condition; he was completely at the mercy of the Autobots. Skyfire could feel him calculating how many he might be able to kill before they could subdue him—and felt him come to the realization that the answer to that might possibly be none.

He drew himself up, presenting as proud and unyielding an image as he could muster, somehow looking cold and regal and every inch the defiant Decepticon warrior despite how pitifully close to offlining he clearly was. Skyfire found himself being impressed despite himself, and he quickly returned his gaze to the direction from which their means of rescue was approaching, not noticing the brief look of surprise and consideration that Thundercracker threw him.

Relief and trepidation mingled equally within Skyfire when at last the entrance was unblocked, and several mechs shone lights in their direction. He heard someone say in excited tones, "Here he is!" and a voice that he recognized as Ratchet tell the others to move out of his way.

The medic shouldered his way inside before coming to a dead halt, making the others behind him nearly run into him and setting off a round of cursing. "There's a 'Con with him!" Cliffjumper said, pushing to the forefront, bristling with weapons.

"I see that, Cliffjumper," Ratchet said dryly. Skyfire dared to glance at Thundercracker, and saw immediately why Ratchet didn't appear alarmed: the Decepticon was struggling to point his damaged weaponry at them, but the barrels wavered so badly that, even if his cannons were capable of firing, he wouldn't have been able to hit anyone with them. It was obvious that the Seeker was feeling threatened and reactionary, and Skyfire was struck with the urge to put himself between Thundercracker and the Autobots.

"You okay, Skyfire?" Ratchet asked, looking back and forth between the two fliers. "Anything badly damaged?" The medic knew that Skyfire knew his own systems well enough to perform a self-diagnostic.

"I've got some damage, but I should be able to transform and fly out of here under my own power," the shuttle replied softly.

Ratchet nodded thoughtfully, optics flicking over his frame in visual confirmation of Skyfire's words. "If I find out otherwise when we get back to base, I'll reformat you," he threatened casually, without any real intent, prompting a smile from the large flier.

"Of course, Ratchet," Skyfire said, still with a small smile. His smile quickly faded, however, when the medic took a few steps toward Thundercracker, hands out to show himself unarmed.

"Looks like you're another story, Thundercracker…"

"Don't come any closer, Autobot," the blue jet gritted out, face tight with the effort of keeping his weapons up. "Just get your friend and leave."

"Don't tell me you're going to fragging fix him, Ratchet!" Cliffjumper once again spoke up, scowling and stepping forward himself, and getting an unsteady weapon trained at him, as well. Another mech—Ironhide, Skyfire realized as he came within radius of the others' headlights—moved closer, roughly shoving against Cliffjumper in a move that had to be purposeful, ignoring the smaller mech's irritated 'hey!'.

He pointed his gun at the Decepticon, calmly drawled, "I think maybe we ought to let Prime decide what to do with him," and watched the injured jet thoughtfully.

"I think you ought to go frag yourself, Autoscum," Thundercracker sneered. Ironhide narrowed cold optics at him, unimpressed, and didn't waver.

"We're not going to just leave you out here to rot, Seeker," Ratchet said in exasperated tones. "Maybe you should be a little more grateful to mechs who are willing to fix you."

"You're not going to touch me," the jet growled, crimson optics flicking back and forth between all of the mechs present, as though trying to gauge which was the greatest threat. Something like determination began to filter through the new link between Thundercracker and Skyfire, and the shuttle found it worrying that he wasn't getting any other indication as to what the Decepticon was planning.

Ratchet moved a few steps closer. "Don't you want to be fixed?" the medic asked, growing more wary as he came within Thundercracker's reach.

"Don't you want to be fixed?" Thundercracker's mincing singsong sounded almost like Starscream, and for half a moment Skyfire wondered if he was being deliberately mocked by the imitation. The jet's optics narrowed, any faint trace of mirth or insincerity leaving him as he replied to the question coldly. "Not by you." He spared a brief glance around at the mechs surrounding him; and Skyfire knew he wasn't imagining the way his optics lingered on him for an instant longer than anyone else. "Not by any of you."

The shuttle dropped his gaze, confused by just how much that had stung. Thundercracker's behavior should have come as no surprise; being hurt when the Seeker lashed out was completely illogical.

"We've fixed you before," Ratchet reminded the blue flier, and got a sneer in return.

"When I was unconscious and couldn't stop you," Thundercracker retorted, dripping disdain. "And I said stay away from me," he added in a hiss, red optics glowing brighter in warning as Ratchet once again reduced the distance between them. Skyfire could feel the tension vibrating in the smaller mech's frame, the readiness for a fight-or-flight response translating itself as a tightness in his own spark, making him feel twitchy and on edge.

"Careful there, Ratch," Ironhide cautioned, taking a step closer himself, gun still raised, though he looked more likely at this point to yank Ratchet backward than to fire on the damaged Decepticon.

"Yes, do be careful, Ratchet," Thundercracker purred with silky menace, clearly gearing himself up to fight if the medic dared do anything he didn't like. Once again Skyfire got the impression that he was sizing everyone up, trying to figure out the best way to blast through all of them and make his escape despite his crippled systems.

Ratchet gave both mechs an annoyed look, and finally stepped close enough to reach for Thundercracker—and that proved to be the tipping point. Skyfire had only a split-second flash of fury and determination before the Seeker exploded into motion, attacking Ratchet and using him as a springboard to launch himself toward the entrance of their temporary prison.

Someone cursed, and everyone made a grab for the injured mech, though thankfully no one seemed willing to open fire in such close quarters—but in the end, Thundercracker writhed and fought…and won free. Realizing with horror that the Decepticon jet meant to take to the skies if at all possible, and that he would likely kill himself in the process, Skyfire took off after him, emerging from the cave just in time to see Thundercracker ignite his engines and lift off.

Not thinking, just reacting, his own engines roared to life, thrusting him into the air after the battered blue jet. It was easy to overtake him—but when he reached out to catch the faltering mech, Thundercracker attacked him with just as much fury as he had shown everyone else. Skyfire was stunned by the ferocity and focus with which the damaged Seeker fought his hold; the blue mech had not seemed capable of such resistance. It was sheer determination, as well as the combined advantage of size and strength, which enabled him to maintain his grip on the smaller jet as Thundercracker battered at his frame in ways designed to make him let go. "Stop!" he cried, desperate to keep from hurting his new bondmate, but Thundercracker was making it impossible.

After what felt like an eternity, the Seeker's vicious attacks at last began to lose strength, and Skyfire began to think that maybe he might be able to finally bring him more or less safely back to the ground. Then, before he could actually make a move to do so, Thundercracker stilled completely, staring up at him and glaring with complete fury and resolve—and let loose with a sonic boom that left the shuttle reeling in the sky.

It was a small eternity before everything began to come back and he managed to right himself despite the lingering disorientation. He realized that he had lost several hundred feet of altitude—and then, with a sharp jag of shock, he realized he had lost more than that. He looked down just in time to see Thundercracker strike the ground, and he cried out in denial and the backlash of pain. He allowed himself to drop like a stone, maintaining just enough control to keep from injuring himself when he landed.

He ran to the prone jet, the first to reach him, and bent over him frantically. Thundercracker's optics were dark, his vents still—but there, Skyfire could still feel the faint pulse of his spark, frighteningly in tune with his own, instinctively clinging to his life force for survival.

He only became aware that other mechs had joined him when he felt a tugging on his arm, making him look up to see Ratchet speaking to him—but he couldn't hear anything. Thundercracker's sonic weapon had overloaded his audio receptors. He found himself being gently pulled away from the twisted body on the ground, too inexplicably grief-stricken and trembling to resist, stunned by the thought that the Seeker had risked this, would much rather die than spend the rest of his life being bonded to Skyfire.

Sound very gradually began to come back, though it was tinny and quiet at first. He still felt dazed and unsteady on his feet, so he lowered himself to sit on the ground, never taking his optics off of Thundercracker and the medic working over him furiously. He only became aware that Wheeljack was trying to get his attention when he felt the smaller mech pat his knee.

Skyfire had to bend forward and strain to hear him. "Would you like to lie down, so I can take a look at you?" the engineer asked, and Skyfire blinked a bit stupidly, uncomprehending, before finally nodding and easing himself down onto his back, allowing Wheeljack to check his systems and make necessary repairs. He knew that the smaller mech kept looking at him worriedly, and he thought he could hear, beneath the buzzing in his audios, a few apologies for causing him pain—but his own body felt numb. The only pain he could feel was humming through the new-made spark bond.

He allowed himself drift until Wheeljack was finished with him, letting him up with another apologetic pat. His optics immediately returned to Thundercracker just as Wheeljack went to Ratchet's side, and his audios had regained enough function to catch the offer of help. Ratchet, however, just shook his head.

"We'll have to get him back to base, or he'll never make it," the medic said grimly, then glanced quickly at Skyfire, a look of reluctance passing over his face. After a moment's hesistation, he stood, firmly making his way over to the large shuttle, and Skyfire knew what he was going to ask before he said it.

"I'll take him," he said, saving Ratchet from his need to impose. "He's too big for anyone else to carry." Ratchet gave him a look of relief and gratitude, and nodded.

They all stood back as he transformed, giving him room until he settled into his alternate mode and opened his cargo bay doors, then several mechs carefully lifted Thundercracker's body and carried him inside. He had a brief, belated moment of panic as he contemplated carrying all of them back, but Ratchet, bless his spark, was ever-conscious of injured mechs under his care, and shooed out all but Ironhide, who stubbornly refused to leave the medic alone with the Decepticon.

"Neither you nor Skyfire are soldiers. If he wakes up, there's not a slaggin' thing you could do to stop him from makin' a mess of both of you," the red mech said bluntly, eyeing the fresh dents and scuffs Ratchet bore, and planted himself right next to the offline Seeker. It was obvious that Ratchet was glad to have him there, even if he didn't seem likely to admit it.

Skyfire ran a quick preflight check partly out of habit and partly to distract himself while they secured Thundercracker inside him, waiting until everyone was settled before closing his cargo doors and running his engines up to prepare for takeoff. Once he was in the air, though, he found that he had precious little to distract him from the conversation taking place inside him; with his broken communications array, he couldn't even spend a few moments to radio air traffic control with his flight path.

"That was a pretty dangerous stunt, Ratch. He could've killed you," Ironhide said bluntly. "Protocol's there for a reason."

"I know," Ratchet replied quietly, guilt in his voice—he was aware of his importance to the war effort. "I wasn't expecting him to attack like that."

"There's always the chance," Ironhide said, calm, "and the mech actively didn't want you to fix him." Skyfire resisted the urge to flinch at that, despite knowing that the observation wasn't aimed at him—Thundercracker hadn't wanted Skyfire to fix him, either.

"What was I supposed to do?" the medic asked helplessly. "Let him die?" Skyfire did wobble a little at that, but it was easy enough to disguise as turbulence. Most non-flying models didn't have the best understanding of just how big a disturbance of airflow was required to make a flyer of his size and capability bobble.

"Nah, I know you couldn't bring yourself to do something like that, Ratchet, but we probably shoulda just tied him up, repaired him enough to keep him alive, then turned him loose again," Ironhide said once their flight had leveled out. "I don't have to tell you that we're bringin' home nine kinds of trouble, takin' him back to base like this."

There was a breath in which he thought one or the other of them might speak again, then Ratchet cursed, "Slag, looks like he's waking up—" Suddenly tense and worried, Skyfire activated his cargo bay optical sensors, just in time to see Ratchet inject something into Thundercracker's fuel lines. Whatever it was, the dimly flickering optics quickly faded offline again. Ratchet watched the blue Seeker with contemplative concern for a while, then exchanged a weary look with Ironhide before settling back down. After another klik or so, Skyfire shut down the optical feed; it was clear that nothing else was going to happen. Besides, he preferred to keep his attention on his flying, and it made him feel uncomfortably like a snoop, even though they were inside his own hold.

The rest of the flight was uneventful and silent, but he very nearly overshot his landing to see Optimus Prime waiting for them at the entrance to the Ark—what if the Autobot leader guessed what had truly happened? Optimus seemed to be an understanding mech, but would even he welcome him in their ranks if it was discovered he had bonded to a Decepticon?

It was clear that someone had commed ahead; Hoist stood unobtrusively nearby with a gurney, and neither mech seemed surprised when Ratchet and Ironhide offloaded Thundercracker onto it. Prime gave Skyfire a sober nod once the shuttle had transformed; the one Skyfire gave in return was jerky despite his best efforts.

"I want you to come directly to medbay, Skyfire," Ratchet said, and Prime murmured agreement.

"Yes—the debriefing can wait until after you're fully repaired," Optimus said, full of genuine sympathy and concern. Skyfire bowed his head briefly in acquiescence, then meekly made up the end of the small procession into Ratchet's medbay.

No one spoke much; they moved Thundercracker onto a berth and secured him there, Ironhide continuing to stand guard over the damaged Seeker, and then Hoist was urging Skyfire onto a berth, himself, asking him to lie down.

"I'm just going to take you offline, here," the smaller mech said amiably, patting his shoulder once he was lying down. "Makes things less unpleasant for you, and quicker for us." Hoist opened a panel in the side of his helm, and blackness sucked him under.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

When he came to, Thundercracker was gone, and a weary-looking Ratchet was walking across the medbay toward him. "We detected a few unusual readings in your spark, and I was going to recommend you recharge immediately anyway, so we kept you under a little longer than we might normally have done," the medic said without preamble, glancing distractedly at the readout on his berthside monitor. Shrugging, he turned the machine off and disconnected it, seeming not to notice the way Skyfire suddenly tensed. "Everything seems to be stable, though, so you're free to go," he continued, looking up to give the bigger mech a tired version of his reassuring smile. "Get yourself refueled, then to Prime's office—he wants your version of the story before he goes to talk to our 'guest'."

Skyfire nodded, trying not to look as nervous as he felt, making himself greet mechs he passed casually as he went to follow Ratchet's instructions. It was hard not to feel as though everyone was staring at him, though he knew well enough that such was not the case, and he refueled as quickly as he could without appearing to rush.

The walk to Prime's office seemed to last an eternity, and he very nearly couldn't make himself transmit the ping to let the Autobot leader know he was there, but he finally berated himself for being a sparkling and just did it. He was immediately allowed in, and Prime rose to his feet to greet him, his entire manner friendly and welcoming.

"Skyfire—I trust you're fully repaired?" he asked courteously as they both took seats.

"Yes, quite," Skyfire replied politely, forcing himself not to fidget. He hoped Prime wouldn't spend too much time on pleasantries. He wanted this over as quickly as possible, so he could hopefully hide himself away long enough to figure out what his next step should be. He could still feel the pulse of Thundercracker's spark within his own, though it seemed to be muted—perhaps the Seeker was still offline.

"Good, good," Prime murmured, then leaned forward over his desk, clasping his hands in front of him, attentive. "So, tell me what happened, from the time you were removed from the battle until your return to the Ark."

Skyfire nodded, and launched into his recollection of events immediately, with concise clarity—with the exception that he glossed over the events leading up to the bonding, merely saying that he had performed what repairs he was capable of.

"And that's the end of it, sir," Skyfire finished respectfully, folding his own hands in his lap. Prime gave a soft, weary sigh and nodded, sitting back in his chair again.

"Now the question is, what do we do with him now that we've got him?" the Autobot leader muttered, then shook his head, regaining his brisk, professional tone. "All right—thank you, Skyfire. Go get some rest; you're excused from regular duty for the next two solar cycles. Dismissed." Skyfire inclined his head obediently, and left.

The meeting had merely served to confirm the guilt he was already wallowing in. Logically, he knew that getting trapped with a very injured Thundercracker couldn't possibly be his fault, but it was clear in hindsight that the actions he had taken were, at best, ill-advised. His impulsiveness, as it always did, had led straight into trouble for both himself and the mechs around him.

He was so absorbed in his self-flagellating that he didn't notice when his steps turned in the direction of the brig, rather than his makeshift quarters—he only realized that he was instinctively following the pull of his spark when he looked up to see himself standing before the entrance of the guardroom.

He stared at the door blankly. Was this what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life? Mindlessly following the pull of Thundercracker's beckoning, disdainful spark? Perhaps—he'd heard of one-sided bonds before, where one partner did not join in the merge fully, leaving the other in painful limbo…but no. Thundercracker had seemed to experience Skyfire as deeply as Skyfire felt him, so it couldn't be that.

In his spark, he could feel that new, foreign presence stir, becoming clearer, and before he could think better of it, he keyed open the door to the guardroom.

Inside, Ironhide had been replaced by one of the frontliner twins, Sideswipe. The red mech looked up in surprise at his entrance, hastily putting down some sort of handheld game with a quickly concealed look of guilt.

"Oh, ah, hey Skyfire," he said as he straightened. "Heard you were the one who brought the Decepticreep in," and he nodded his helm at the monitor displaying Thundercracker's cell. The Seeker was just beginning to move sluggishly on his berth.

Skyfire nodded, surprised when he had to suppress a flash of anger at hearing Thundercracker referred to as such, and to cover he moved closer to the monitor. "Yes, I brought him in—he was too injured to travel under his own power, and I was the only one present large enough to carry him." He paused, then before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Do you think I could speak to him for a moment?" He winced when Sideswipe threw him a surprised and mildly suspicious look—but it seemed he had proven himself trustworthy enough despite his history with the Decepticons, because the red mech finally shrugged and nodded.

"Sure," he said. "I'm supposed to take him some fuel when he wakes up anyway. I don't suppose it matters if you take it instead." He produced a cube of mid-grade, offering it to Skyfire. "Just hand it to him through the bars, and make sure he actually drinks it, yeah? Prime'll have my plating if he thinks I haven't been giving the prisoner his fuel." Contrary to his words, he didn't seem very concerned about it. Skyfire was fairly certain that, as soon as the guardroom door slid shut behind him, the red mech had resumed his interrupted game. Apparently Thundercracker didn't rate as high-risk, at least not for the moment.

The cell that they had the Seeker in was cramped, especially for a mech designed for open skies the way Thundercracker was, and Skyfire felt a pang of sympathy at seeing him so confined. He would be able to pace a few steps, but not many.

It was clear that Ratchet knew what he was doing with aerial mechs, because Thundercracker was fully repaired, though his weapons had been removed and his paint job had been left patchy, bare metal showing through where repairs had been made. The Seeker looked up at Skyfire's approach, optics still foggy with the remnants of forced recharge. All traces flew away, however, when their renewed proximity caused their joined sparks to surge in recognition; the unsettling sensation pulled a low oath from Thundercracker's vocalizer.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" the blue mech said cuttingly once he had recovered.

"I brought your ration," Skyfire said quietly, not rising to the bait. He held the cube up to the bars so that Thundercracker could get it if he wanted to…and, eventually, after a cold and wary stare, he did so, immediately retreating to his berth with it.

"You're not going to win me over with little kindnesses, you know," the Seeker said after he had drained the cube, his tone contemptuous, lip curling in a slight sneer. "I told you before, I'm not going to turn into some kind of pet for you to display."

It seemed that this interaction was to be no better than when they were trapped in the cave, and the realization stretched Skyfire's patience. "Prime ordered that you be fed. Don't read any more into it than that," he said, his tone a bit frosty despite his efforts to mask it.

Ha. Like Thundercracker couldn't feel every nuance of what he was feeling, regardless of anything he liked to project outwardly.

Thundercracker grinned suddenly, and it wasn't a friendly expression. "Does that make you nervous, Autobot?" he asked, a predatory gleam in his optics.

"No," Skyfire snapped, though, unexpectedly, he realized that it did. Thundercracker's grin grew wider, sensing weakness, but he merely hmmed thoughtfully—then, without warning, he tossed the empty energon cube back through the bars at him.

The shuttle caught it by reflex, alerted by some subconscious signal through the bond, then blinked at in surprise—and nearly jumped out of his metal skin when Thundercracker laughed. It was a mean, angry laugh, but beneath it fear ran like electric current. The bond went both ways.

Abruptly, Skyfire realized why he had come here, what he had meant to ask. "Why did you try to kill yourself? If we'd been any higher up, you would've died," he blurted out before he could rein in his vocalizer…and the flash of hastily-buried hurt that death might be preferable to being bonded to him.

"Why did I—" Thundercracker sputtered, stiffening, optics widening in outrage, and the surge of fury left Skyfire feeling stunned. "You—you arrogant bastard. The touch of your noble spark isn't enough to redeem me, so it must be so horrible I wish for death instead? Are you so fucking self-centered? This isn't entirely about you, you know. Don't underestimate my ability to live with myself." He sneered, dripping disdain and vitriol. "After all, I haven't done anything to be ashamed of. I'm not the one who forced a sparkbond on a mech who couldn't stop him."

Skyfire flinched at the accusation, made worse by the fact that Thundercracker hadn't simply flown into a frothing rage the way Starscream might have done. His biting censure dripped acidic guilt into Skyfire's spark, and it contracted further in its chamber at the sense of angry satisfaction that clearly exuded from Thundercracker's half of the bond. The Seeker wanted him to feel wretched, to know the depth of his mistake, and Skyfire was completely unable to hide that the smaller mech had succeeded.

"You know," Thundercracker said, driving home the almost violent contempt he held for Skyfire, that the shuttle could feel radiating from the other mech's spark, "I would have expected that a mech who could earn Starscream's respect had to have some kind of backstrut. I guess I was wrong. You're a sniveling coward, on top of being stupid. At least face the fact that you fucked up."

Skyfire dropped his gaze to the floor. "I didn't know how else to save you. I had to act quickly—your spark would have extinguished if I hadn't," he said quietly. "And then, when you tried to fly away…you'd lost so much fuel and coolant, I was afraid you wouldn't survive to escape. I had to do something." It was true—he could never have reconciled just standing aside and watching as Thundercracker died.

"Spare me," the blue Seeker scoffed bitterly. "You think you can slap a little Autobot band-aid on me and suddenly everything's perfect? It doesn't work that way. I didn't ask to be saved. In fact, I recall specifically instructing you all not to touch me." He paused, gave Skyfire a scathing look. "Of course, you had already violated me by that point, but the situation could have been salvaged. You didn't have to do anything—all you had to do was stand there and watch me fly away. Let's keep it straight who forced whom." He shook his head in disgust. "Skywarp would probably have come after me before too long—we're not so flush with warriors that Megatron can afford to just throw me away. I would have survived. It's what I'm good at."

Despite the hurt that had closed an iron fist around his spark, and knowing that that was what Thundercracker meant for him to feel, Skyfire replied softly, "It didn't seem to me that you were doing such a good job of surviving at the time."

The Seeker gave him a cold, unimpressed glare. "I've survived worse," he said flatly. "Except for the 'being spark-raped' part—shockingly, that one's a first. Congratulations on that, by the way. It's not often I have a new experience these days."

Skyfire saw the tiny smirk when Thundercracker felt that one hit home, leaving the shuttle breathless with shock. "What's the matter, Autobot? Oh, is this your first time raping someone? Didn't stop to think that that was what you were doing, did you?" The Seeker's smile was cruel and humorless, his words pointed barbs meant to dig deep and stick.

Skyfire was too stricken to speak. He shook his head in mute protest, staring at Thundercracker in horror. For his part, the Seeker just gave him a sardonic look, well aware of the tumult of emotion he had inspired in the larger mech. "It-it-it wasn't done to rape you," he finally managed, his deep voice as small as he could make it. "I did it to save your life…"

Thundercracker shrugged, giving him a small smile. "Whatever you want to call it, Autobot," he replied with calculated indifference.

Skyfire felt the sudden urge to purge his tanks. In his mind, he knew that the Seeker was trying to hurt him, painting everything in the worst light possible, but his spark echoed with the blue mech's relentless accusations, and guilt swallowed him whole.

He didn't realize that he'd fled until the door to his quarters closed behind him, and he sank down onto his berth with his head in his hands.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Bluestreak was manning the guardroom when he finally managed to shore up his nerve and make another attempt, several wretched days later.

"Hey, Skyfire," the gunner greeted him cheerily, though concern shadowed his optics—he was friends with Sideswipe, and the red mech had undoubtedly told him about the shuttle's ignominious departure. "You here to speak with Thundercracker? I didn't think you'd be back, after what Sideswipe told me happened last time. What did he say to you that upset you so much? You shouldn't talk to him if all he's going to do is be nasty. Which, I guess I can't really blame him if he's feeling nasty, but that still doesn't give him the right to be a jerk—"

"It's okay, Bluestreak," Skyfire said, having already learned that sometimes the only way to get a word in with the grey mech was to interrupt, and that he didn't really take offense when other mechs did so. "I did come to speak to Thundercracker, actually."

Bluestreak shook his head, mouth thinning with unease. "I can't stop you from going in—he's not considered high-risk with his weapons and thrusters disabled—but really, Skyfire, you shouldn't let him be mean to you," he said, so earnestly that Skyfire had to smile.

"I'll be all right, though I appreciate your concern," he replied, his voice sincere. Bluestreak sighed in resignation, and handed him a cube of energon, as Sideswipe had done the last time he had come.

"All right then—you might as well take his fuel to him, then. No need for both of us to pester him," the gunner said, and keyed the door open. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

Thundercracker was lying on his berth, staring listlessly at the ceiling when he approached this time. He heaved himself up, joints creaking stiffly, and crossed the cell to retrieve his energon without a word. He downed it quickly and returned the empty cube, then retreated to his berth to lie down again. Much of the fight seemed to have gone out of him; he looked and felt bored and unhappy.

Despite the almost painful pull of his spark toward his unwilling mate, Skyfire was considering chalking this up as another failure and leaving when Thundercracker finally spoke. "What do you remember about the Golden Age, Autobot? It must be nearer to you than to the rest of us," and he turned his head to look at Skyfire with an unreadable expression.

At first he didn't know what to say, and he finally shrugged uncomfortably. "I was not often on Cybertron, to be honest. And I spent most of my time planetside in my lab, but…" He shook his head ruefully. "Well, speaking for myself, it's been quite the change, to go from being a deep-space explorer to researching weapons," he offered, thrown by the contrast between the Seeker's previous behavior and his current. Thundercracker hummed noncommittally, nodding—for once not reacting with outright scorn.

The absence of the vicious attack he had halfway been expecting was…encouraging, and, admittedly, it was nice to recall his former existence. Tentatively, he ventured to continue, "Until my recent reawakening, the most exciting thing that happened while I was planetside was the time we came back from a mission to find that Starscream had been evicted from his apartment, because he forgot to set up a payment schedule for his rent in his absence." He gave a small, involuntary smile at the memory—for him, it had not happened all that long ago. "They had been kind enough to find out that I was his closest colleague, and had his things sent to my place, but he was livid over the whole thing. He never did get his own apartment afterward, though. He just stayed in mine. Said it was more efficient, anyway." He chuckled softly, fondly, briefly forgetting himself and the company he currently kept.

"Sounds pleasant," Thundercracker snorted wryly, turning his gaze to the ceiling again. He was quiet for a few sparkpulses, then, quietly, with the smallest hint of honest curiosity and wistfulness, "They used to talk about how Cybertron glowed, when you saw it from space. How bright it was. Was that true? You must have seen it."

Skyfire hesitated, finding himself surprised once again. "Oh—yes, I remember it quite well. I always enjoyed exploring other worlds, of course, but there was something wonderful in coming back to see our homeworld, glowing like a jewel hung in space. I always thought it was a more lovely sight by far than the exotic foreign planets I've seen." He paused, then, tentatively, "I didn't realize you were too young to have seen it. Bluestreak told me that it was gone by the time he was sparked."

The blue Seeker gave him a dry look, and his presence in the bond was guarded. "I'm at least as old as you are, Autobot. I was there during the Golden Age, I just didn't get the chance to experience it." He offered Skyfire a small, grim smile.

The shuttle was confused. "I was under the impression that you were space-flight-capable," he said.

Thundercracker shrugged. "I am," he said simply.

Skyfire frowned. "Then why…?"

The blue mech sighed, half in irritation, half in resignation. "Because flight-capable gladiatormechs were not often allowed to fly—certainly never so far." Thundercracker's tone was matter-of-fact, but a faint note of bitterness crept into the bond before the Seeker stifled it.

"Gladiatormechs?" Skyfire asked, startled, drawing a short-lived look of amusement from Thundercracker.

"Do you know what I remember from the Golden Age, Autobot?" he asked, sitting up on his berth to face the shuttle on the other side of the bars. It must have been a rhetorical question, for he only paused a moment, then continued. "I remember the inside of my cage in the gladiator pit. I remember the roar of the crowd, cheering me on—or cheering for my head." The Seeker's smirk was completely humorless. "It was quite the sight. We rarely failed to fill the stands, you know. Have you ever been to a gladiatorial arena?" His tone was almost agreeable, deceptively so.

Skyfire shook his head, optics wide, wrenched abruptly back into guilt, struck by the difference between his pleasant, ordinary experiences and his new glimpse into Thundercracker's life. "I, uh, no, I never went," he said lamely. He'd seen bouts advertised, of course—it could hardly be avoided—but it had never seemed right, to derive entertainment from other mechs' suffering.

Thundercracker's lips stretched in a terrible, poisonous, predatory grin—and Skyfire's pumps froze for a moment in a horrible sort of anticipation. "No?" the Seeker asked, still with that frightening grin. "Oh, that's right—you can't bear to watch another mech suffer, can you? You couldn't condone pit-fighting, so you turned your head, eh? It's no wonder you're an Autobot—you fit right in with them. I don't know how any of them could still think you a traitor," he purred, optics narrowing.

"W-what?" Skyfire gasped, shocked into stammering. "What do you mean by that?"

Thundercracker leaned close to the bars; Skyfire leaned away. "You're not helping yourself by talking to me like this, you know. Mechs are prone to talk," the Seeker said softly, his voice and expression intent.

"You don't know that," Skyfire argued, sounding weak even to himself. It suddenly filled his mind, what it must look like—the recent Decepticon defector, with a known history with Starscream, coming to speak with the Decepticon prisoner for no discernable reason…the shuttle shook his head, backing away another step.

Thundercracker smirked, and backed up a step, himself. "Think what you like," he said pleasantly, optics gleaming with malice. "They certainly will."

"That's ridiculous. I'm not a traitor to the Autobots, and I'm not going to stand here and let you call me one." He managed an orderly retreat instead of outright fleeing, but just before he left, there was a flash of deep, dark, ugly mirth, and a rage emanating from Thundercracker that was so vast and frightening that Skyfire's mind could not encompass it. It left him feeling as though he were standing at the edge of a fathomless chasm, about to topple in with no way to fly. Even after he returned to his quarters, it took him the rest of the day to get his shaking to stop.