A Priori, A Posteriori

He was terrified, this was Pyro after all. He tugged on the chain connecting him to Pyro’s berth. He was going to be offlined or worse!

Glit led Pyro to his quarters, “Steeljaw is gone for the next decacycle. He wanted to bring you with him but he said he needed to get a feel of the other mechs there first. So he left you a gift sweetie.”

Glit opened the door, “You are his master but you can give him back to Steeljaw or one of the other mechs if you want.”

Pyro growled, “I don’t want it.”

Glit sighed, “Steeljaw hasn’t fragged him and he made me give him a special upgrade just for you.” Glit nudged him into the room and then left.

Pyro growled at the mech on his berth. “I don’t like you.”

The mech nodded, “I am sorry sir. I’ll leave if you let me. You won’t see me again.”

Pyro frowned and stalked forward. He reached out to unhook the mech but paused. It was warm close to the mech. He touched the mech and purred cuddling against him for a moment. “Are you one of Steeljaw’s berth pets?”

He trembled, “N-no sir. I mix energon. That is all, I mix energon and clean. I try and stay out of Steeljaw’s way sir I don’t want to bother him.”

Pyro pulled the mech down and snuggled against him. That was ok,  he would snuggle with this mech that Steeljaw left him. Maybe would make him prettier later though.  He hadn’t decided yet. He gave a sharp poke to one energon line to test that and watched as the mech whimpered and a small bit of energon oozed from a line. Yes maybe later.

He lay limply in Pyro’s arms and let the other cuddle against him. Primus he didn’t know who he had angered but if he could just survive the night he would be thankful.

Omega wasn’t the sharpest tool in the drawer, but he wasn’t stupid. He smiled as his mech arrived. It always felt like they didn’t get enough time together. He scooped the cyclebot up, cupping him gently between two servos. He could hold him in one but he was always worried about dropping him if he did that.

Other Mechs didn’t understand their relationship, but they were precious to each other.  He nuzzled his cyclebot carefully and purred when he felt the tiny kiss that was pressed to his cheek. It had taken a while to explain to the medic why he wanted the ability to up his sensitivity. He wanted to be able to feel his cyclebot.
Slider laughed, “You are thinking a lot again love. What is on your processor?” Slider didn’t care what others said, they were perfect for each other, the perfect balance.

“You.” It was hard for him to converse normally, he just didn’t get much practice with anyone but the medic and his cyclebot. “Mechs, think we cannot hear them. Mechs say horrible things.”

Slider frowned but then smiled and nuzzled him again. “Let them. I love you and you love me and that is all that matters.”

Omega’s engine rumbled, “love you.” He wouldn’t crush the other mechs, just because he didn’t want to see his cyclebot frown. He lay back a bit and stroked his mech’s frame. “We missed you.”

Slider smiled, “I missed you too. You want to hear about what I have been doing?”

Omega nodded, focusing all his sense on his cyclebot, his Slider.

Slider rambled on about the past few days. Missions, gossip, everything as Omega listened. When he had first started meeting with his lover he thought his silence meant he wasn’t listening. Then he learned the truth. Omega was so quiet because he listened so much.

Omega stroked Slider’s frame when he finally finished talking with one finger and slowly relayed his thoughts. Slider encouraging him to speak and express himself in a way he never had before.

Slider shivered when Omega’s finger began to linger on parts of his frame. “Omega. Now? Here?” He liked interfacing with his lover, even if it wasn’t any conventional form of interfacing. Omega though normally preferred to do it in a more private place.

The larger mech nodded and a small compartment opened in his chest. It was near his spark a place where normally a medic would access to scan his systems. It was the most sensitive part of his frame and he was looking forward to surprising his lover with his new upgrade.

Slider slipped inside and smiled when the armor closed over him.  The area was lit with the glow of Omega’s spark and it was warm and comfortable to him. It was a place he never wanted to leave. He started to touch. Stroking over large relays and sensor nodes.

A few times the charge off Omega’s overload had brought him over the edge multiple times so he always wanted to--he froze as something slid up his leg.

Soft bundles of wires pressed him up agains the most sensitive panel of the chamber and began to stroke his frame. “Omega!” He gasped out as they teased his seams and wires delicately, lovingly.

Omega rumbled around him as he chuckled, “Upgrade. For you.”

He moaned, his lover had upgraded himself for him. He’d never thought he would ever have a lover willing to do that. He felt Omega plug into his systems and he cried out in pleasure as the larger mech flooded his frame with energy.

Omega felt the echoes as Slider overloaded but they weren’t done yet. He was going to repay his lover and overload him like he couldn’t before.

One of the wire bundles opened Slider’s panel and stroked over his spike and valve while Omega greedily processed the information they sent him. Later he would take his mech where he could watch and not just feel, but this was their secret.

---

Later Slider lay curled up on top of Omega’s chest, a thermal blanket over him, completely spent. “I like your new upgrade but you didn’t have to do that for me.”

Omega rubbed his back. “That is why we did.”

Slider purred and pressed a soft kiss to the chest beneath him, he loved his gentle giant.

098 Incarceration --  First Aid -- Rating PG

The twins always made jokes about being  put in the brig. They said it was no big deal, a few cycles in lock up, you clean something or run extra patrols and you were out. They, in their own way made spending time in the brig sound like fun.

First Aid rubbed at his optics, this wasn’t any fun. Ratchet hadn’t even looked at him when he brought his ration. His mentor, the mech he looked up to more than anyone, hadn’t been able to look at him.

He curled up on the berth and tried not to cry. Even his brothers were blocking him out. If he was in their place he would do the same.

What kind of Autobot aided the enemy? Patched the enemy back up so they could continue fighting and killing? He had felt so bad for the tank though. Left all alone on the battle field to offline. He had tried to walk away, but he couldn’t do it.

Now he was a criminal, locked away and hated.

He’d never thought he’d end up locked up, and he knew he’d be here until the hearing and probably after. He was a traitor now, a criminal who deserved to be incarcerated.

He sobbed, his frame shaking.  The worst part was, he couldn’t even say he wouldn’t do it again.

004. Medic -- Ratchet, Jazz  -- Rating PG

He was their medic, infallible, untouchable, their source of comfort. It shook the entire crew to the spark to see him lain out in his own medbay attached to a spark monitor.

They should have protected him better. They should have kept him back, not allowing him to rush to the front lines. But their medic had just smiled and told them it was his job.

They should have insisted he was better armed. They should have pressed the blaster back into his servos. They shouldn’t have listened when he smiled and said he wouldn’t know what to do with a blaster. When he said he trusted them to have his back.

They should have kept an optic on the seekers, should have know it was a false retreat.

They had left their medic open to attack, his servos deep in another’s systems. The blast had been millimeters from his spark chamber.

He was supposed to be their medic--infallible, untouchable--and it shook them to the spark to realize he was as mortal as they were. Their medic was just another mech, a mech they should have appreciated more.

---

When Ratchet onlined he frowned lightly at the mechs crowding his medbay. He thought about yelling, telling them they were just making it harder for First Aid, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. His friends had just been reminded he too could be taken from them--he himself had been reminded of his own mortality.

He lay back down and allowed himself to be comforted by the sound of the spark monitor and the feeling of the other’s EM fields.

As he slipped into recharge he felt Jazz squeeze his servo lightly, “You’re our medic. We aren’t going to risk you again.”

But he was their medic, it was his job to put himself in danger to safe them, and so they would.  And they all knew it.

065. Run -- Blurr -- Rating PG


Blurr loved to run, he loved to run fast--fast, fast, fast, FASTER--A mere streak out of the corner of your optic as he ran by.

Blurr loved to run, he lived to run. The faster the better, and today he was putting that speed to the test.

Normally his tests involved a race track and a timer, but not today. Today they involved a life...

He had to get to the cliff face. He had to stop the mech from falling! 

Air rushed passed his audios and everything seemed to be going in slow motion. He watched as the mech’s right servo slipped, his second straining to keep hanging on.

Run Blurr, run faster! He was only seconds away now. He was going to make it!

An explosion shattered the ground in front of him trowing up dirt and rocks. He skidded to a stop sliding across the ground, covering his head to protect himself for debris. No!

The mech fell, Blurr reached, straining...

Not fast enough.

Blurr loved to run,  but he would never be fast enough to out run death.

99. Meeting -- Cosmos, Soundwave -- Rating PG


It was during a battle that they met. Cosmos was hunkered down behind a rock face for cover, praying back up would arrive in time. His patrol had accidentally stumbled across a Decepticon mining group and now they were all pinned. He slid around the side of the rock face, hoping to get a chance to get airborne or to circle back to his teammates. Making his way around a corner he turned only to be stopped suddenly by a chest-plate, ablue chest-plate, with a glaring purple Decepticon logo on it.

Cosmos cried out only to be struck and knocked to the ground. He trembled as a concussion blaster was pointed to his helm. He offlined his optics, not wanting to watch his own death. He wasn't a fighter, he was just a mech doing what he could. He waited for his death.

He felt a knee come to press into his chest holding him down, and he onlined his optics in shock. The blaster was still pointed at his head, but the Decepticon had grabbed his right servo, the servo that still had traces of the temporary paint on it.

Breaking out of his shock Cosmos attempted to jerk his servo away and escape.

The blaster whirred as it cycled on and Cosmos froze.

"Demand; explanation."

That could be taken in many ways, and for a moment Cosmos was at a loss until he realized Soundwave still had a hard grip on his painted servo.

"Last night cycle was the twelfth orn. I preformed the corresponding ritual, to the best of my abilities." His head felt a little fuzzy and he panicked at the thought that Soundwave might be reading his mind.

Soundwave's face was a blank mask, "Statement; belief that Primus sends visions to torment you, Incorrect. Statement; Primus loves all his children. Loves most of all those that do his will."

Cosmos trembled, to hear his innermost fears spoken and then cast aside was, it was a powerful feeling. "Those that do his will?"

"Statement; those that hold true to the covenant, those that work to do the bidding of Primus, those that work towards the true future of Cybertron." The grip on his servo tightened, "Soundwave; not aware Autobots remembered the rituals." 

Cosmos whimpered as his servo was crushed, "My creator taught me. She taught me to light the lamps and drink the energon." This was so strange, what did Soundwave want? Why talk to him if he was just going to offline him? If he could just hack his processor and gain all the information he wanted.

Soundwave seemed to suddenly tense, and then releasing Cosmos's servo he reared back and struck him across the helm. Cosmos knew no more.


Soundwave stood quickly glancing down at the Autobot. Megatron had commed him and if he didn't go soon he risked his leader's wrath. Still, he never thought he would see an Autobot that knew the old ways, and to think that this mech dreamed the Primus induced dreams.

He raised his blaster pointing it at the mech's spark ready to take the shot.

Megatron commed again, demanding his presence on the battle field.

He lowered the blaster and left to respond to Megatron's call, the Autobot's mental impression still on his processor.

019. Countdown-- Cosmos, Jazz, Skyfire, Wheeljack -- Rating PG


Ten Times that they shared shy, friendly smiles across the recroom. One curious, and the other lonely but smiling anyway. Sometimes Cosmos wished he had a chance to get to know Jazz better.


Nine Days they spent together on a mission to monitor the Decepticons that went normally, and nine days that they spent in the Decepticon brig. Cosmos didn’t like to think about those days. Watching the other be hurt while he was ignored in a tiny cell. He was a nobody to the Decepticons, a nobody that couldn’t even protect his teammate.


Eight Months that passed before Cosmos got a chance to speak to Jazz alone and attempt to apologize. Jazz had just shaken his head and patted Cosmos on the head with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it mechlet,” Jazz smiled optics bright. “It is in the past and Ratchet patched me up good.”

Cosmos struggled to smile back with his optics, “If you say so. But I would like you to know I am sorry.”

Jazz walked away with a wave, “And I said don’t worry about it. Now if you will excuse me I have me a date with Prowl.”


Seven Weeks after that, Cosmos was finally feeling over the entire incident even if he couldn’t look Jazz in the optics still.

He was finally feeling able to talk to others in the Recroom again. He laughed as he sat beside Skyfire in the recroom. The shuttle was always very kind, he didn’t understand why the others mistrusted him.


Six Days after he got overcharged and kissed the large flyer he was still hiding. Skyfire had pushed him away so fast afterwards, he knew he offended the mech.


Five Klicks into his surveillance mission, he learned why. Skyfire was still seeing his old lover. He wouldn’t report them, it seemed wrong to do so, but at least he knew now it wasn’t just because it was him. The thoughts distracted him and he crashed. The injury was minor but he would still have to visit the medbay.


Four Hours of watching Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Perceptor working together in the medbay, laughing and joking, and all he wanted to do was curl up and recharge back in his quarters. Sometimes he thought Wheeljack was a bit like himself, but seeing him at work made him realize he had been wrong.


Three Things had always kept him going in the past, his belief in the Autobot cause, his belief in Primus, and the words of his creator. His creator had always told him there was a mech or femme out there for everyone. Maybe it was time to face the fact that if his mech had existed at all they were probably long offline now.


Two Tears fell from his optics at that thought. He was going to be alone forever. His spark mate didn’t exist, no one would ever really love him. His spark burned as if someone was twisting an energy blade inside it.


One Sob emerged from his vocalizer before he muted himself. No one loved him, so why would anyone care about his pain. He comforted himself with the fact he was due to have a few months in space soon. Up there he could get this out of his system. The only thing worse than a mech who was always going to be alone, always the tag along never the focus, was a mech who couldn’t accept that and be happy anyway. He’d spend his time learning to be happy again in a world where his current lot in life was as good as it could get.


Zero, nothing. Not even dancing through a meteor shower could make him feel happy again.