28 Contracts
Title: 28 Contracts
'Verse: 2007 Transformers
Characters: Ensemble.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing. Prompts are not in chronological sequence.
Notes: Expansion of this fic.
1. Naughty
“They’re not his, you know.”
Barricade looked up from cleaning his plasma rifle (a gift from Prowl and Bluestreak to commemorate his latest promotion) warily. Starscream had that look in his optics, one that spoke of malicious intent and mischief. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, you’re Megatron’s spawn, definitely. But your brothers aren’t. And they’re the better for it too. You’re not too shabby, even if half your coding comes from our glorious Lord Protector. Then again, my codes are in you as well. But Prowl and Bluestreak will be smarter, sharper, all in all better than you ever will be.”
“You lie!” He sprang up, sending his cleaning tools flying, just barely catching the weapon before it could do the same.
Starscream smirked at him, tone wicked. “Why would I? I had to have you, because of the contract, but they… Ah, I carried them, Barricade, I’d know who sparked them. And it wasn’t Megatron. Why do you think he’s such a fragger to them? He can’t kill them, obviously, but all it takes is a little… accident, hm? And you wouldn’t want anything to happen to your brothers, right? They do so idolise ‘their big brother ‘Cade’, after all.”
“… Damn you, Starscream.”
“Now, is that any way to talk to your carrier? You get that from Megatron, you know. The brutish lack of refinement. If you want to damn anyone, damn him. He was the one who forced me into this. Oh, he’ll say I signed of my own free will, but I know better.”
“Are you done?”
“Oh, not by a long shot. But I’m finished with you. Bye, ’Cade.”
The flier sneered and left the room, cackling with delight when he heard the mech inside snarl and slam a fist against the wall.
2. Happy
He swallowed hard, looking everywhere except at Prowl, forcing out the words that made his spark want to go out. “Jazz loves you. And anyone who bothers to look would know you love him. You make my little brother happy, and that’s all I need.”
“Smokescreen…”
“No. Don’t look at me like that. You want us to be able to choose freely. Very well, I chose to step back. I’ll be fragged before I let you bond with me because you feel it’s your duty to.”
“Smokescreen. Shut up.”
He shut up, assisted by a black and white mech sprawled in his lap, kissing him soundly.
3. Silly
When Prowl finally released him, Smokescreen gaped at the other bot, only for the chevroned mech to chuckle at him. “Silly mech. Did it not occur to you that you might be loved as well?”
When he continued to gape, Prowl snorted and climbed out of his lap.
“I can’t negate the bonding contract, but I found some leeway within its bounds. We can choose which of us bonds to whom.”
“Bluestreak?!”
“If you both bond to me, he’s free to find his own bonds, and I know he has his optic on another pair already.”
“Pair?!”
“My carrier is a jet, and they bond in trines whenever possible. Both Bluestreak and I have inherited that predilection. Smokescreen, weren’t you the one who told me that Primus is fair?”
“Yes but-”
The black and white mech raised an optic ridge at him. “Do I need to kiss you a second time?”
“… Well… I wouldn’t mind it if you did.” Smokescreen smirked, the effect somewhat ruined by his embarrassed air. Prowl only laughed, catching and tugging him close.
“Silly mech.”
And then they kissed again.
4. Angsty
He couldn’t stay. He’d slip up, and Megatron would slaughter them the moment he found out.
Nodding sadly at the pair who were watching him forlornly, he transformed and took off, unable to stay in the Lord Protector’s employ any longer. As he flew further and further away, he saw another pair of mechlings slip out from the shadows to comfort the two who he should never have had to leave.
Silently, Skyfire cursed Starscream for telling him. He could watch Prowl and Bluestreak, teach them, love them as a guardian and caregiver even, if he’d just been left in his blissful ignorance. Silently, he pled, knowing they wouldn’t hear him
‘I’m sorry. Take care of them for me. Please. Good bye.’
5. On-Vacation
The best part about getting a period of leave, Barricade decided, was the looks on his brothers’ faces when he showed up on the doorstep of the family home, processor full of stories to tell them and subspace full of trinkets and image captures from all the places he’d been posted to in service to the Cybertronian army.
6. Horny
“You don’t mind? That I want both your brother and you?”
“Prowl, I held back because I didn’t want to break my brother’s spark. Now that I know you want us both, I see no reason to deny myself what I want.”
And with that, Jazz pounced, and he and his quarry went tumbling back onto said quarry’s berth.
“And, I’m a greedy little fragger who wants all I can get of a particularly attractive mech. Especially when he feels honour bound to make me scream his name in overload as many times as possible.”
7. Transforming
Their first transformation (Prowl had put his off until Bluestreak could join him) should have been a joyous event, but they had heard their creators’ argument late in the cycle, after the guests had left and they were supposed to be in recharge.
“It’s all your fault they don’t have flier forms!”
“I’ll have you know I am capable of taking flight.”
“You were sparked a groundbound deadweight! Because of you they’ll never fly! The only reason you have those protocols at all is because of our bonding!”
“So make sure they bond to fliers, if you’re so hung up on that.”
“Maybe I will!”
Prowl had curled around a shaking Bluestreak, and Barricade had found them like that a few breems later. He carried them back to their berths, joining them when they didn’t let go of him. Prowl didn’t understand. True, they couldn’t take on flier alts, but his vehicle form was a good one, because Barricade had one too. Bluestreak had made the same choice, with the same reason. He whispered as much to his elder brother, and felt the warrior mech pet his helm gently.
“It’s alright. Starscream was hoping for fliers after I ended up groundbound. He’ll accept that you can’t help how you were sparked after sulking about it for a while.”
Prowl nodded, and felt Barricade slowly powering down. He did the same, drifting into recharge, wondering just why having a flight alt sounded right.
8. Excited
“’Cade! ‘Cade!”
“What is it, brat?”
“Look!”
“I see. You beat the training AI. Congratulations, bitling.”
“Starscream was very pleased. … Do you think our other creator will be?”
“… I’m sure. I’ll tell him the next time I see him, alright?”
“Thanks, ‘Cade.”
“… I’m proud of you, little brother. Now. Let’s see if you can take on a real mech, hm?”
“You mean…”
“Yeah. You versus me. Don’t worry, Prowl. I’ll go easy on you.”
9. Book-Reading
It was one of his favourite things to do, stealing into the library to listen as Prowl read Bluestreak’s favourite bookfiles to him, or watch as the black and white youngling studied, trying to solve some problem Shockwave or Skyfire, their tutors, had set him. Sometimes, he’d be spotted, and he’d slink over to share Bluestreak’s seat or Prowl’s table, grinning sheepishly when he was reminded that he was allowed free run of the place and didn’t have to skulk in the dark corners.
But he kept on sneaking in, kept on trying to avoid too sharp sensors to observe them unawares. Smokescreen thought it was a game, but to him, it was something… else. Jazz didn’t know quite what yet, but that just meant he had to keep doing it ‘till he figured it out.
10. Dancing
Scowling, Starscream watched the two younglings chase each other, then turn their attentions on their older sibling, dancing lightly about the heavier built groundling as only the seeker sparked could. He glanced at the medical report in his hand, then back at his sparklings. If Prowl and Bluestreak took on flight capable alts, as was their sparkright, they stood a good chance of ending up with Skyfire’s particular sort of frame. Megatron would suspect his bondmate’s little ‘dalliance’ in a nanoclick.
So they couldn’t. Their flight protocols would have to be removed, their inherent coding modified to remove all possibility of that occurring.
Hiding his snarl, he called to his two youngest, his skysparks, and they ran to him, laughing. The seeker almost sneered at their enthusiasm. Sparked to fly, to command the air currents and chase the horizon, yet they were going to be locked to the ground, their wings clipped by their carrier’s own hand.
Would they still dance so lightly if they knew what he was going to do to them?
11. Jealous
He was jealous, no two ways about it. His brothers (half brothers, and it had shocked him to learn that) were rising fast in the armed forces, quicker than he had. Prowl would no doubt be offered an officer’s post soon, and Bluestreak was already leading his own strike team. Even their… consorts… were doing well, thriving in special ops.
But what galled him the most was that every free moment they had that overlapped with his own spare cycles, the four mechs were looking for him, optics bright, expressions joyful, wanting to talk to him about what they’d done and seen and learnt, eager for his opinions and judgement.
They only wanted him to be proud of them, he knew. He’d been the one to set them on this path, after all.
But frag if every time he saw one of them, he remembered what Starscream had hissed into his audio, and his spark turned just that little bit more bitter.
12. Turned-On
It was a sparring match like any other sparring match, and as usual Bluestreak was kicking their afts. Sideswipe lunged and his brother swept low, hoping the combined attack would throw the grey mech off balance enough for them to win this one, not expecting the ploy to succeed. But Bluestreak fell, stunning them long enough for the chevroned mech to twist and land atop Sunstreaker, pulling Sideswipe down with him.
They gaped at the grey mech sandwiched between them. Bluestreak flickered bright blue optics innocently at his unwitting captors before smirking, revving his engine in an unmistakable manner. Their engines responded immediately and the grey mech laughed at the way they blinked at each other, then arched against Sunstreaker as he pulled Sideswipe down for a kiss.
“Really, I have to do everything around here.”
13. Caring
It had come as a surprise, to find that he was the oldest of the four. While Bluestreak’s age was obvious, the youngest of their group being an unabashed cuddler, leaning into anyone who stayed still long enough for him to latch onto, Prowl always carried himself with such dignity and gravitas that Smokescreen felt like a callow scraplet next to him. Not that he wasn’t a callow scraplet, but it was the principle of the thing.
Still, there were little things that gave the youth of the highborn youngling away. Prowl tended to forget everything else when studying or caught up in something that interested him. Smokescreen had lost count of the number of times he’d had to chivvy Prowl off to his berth after the white and black mechling had obviously decided to ignore the needs of his systems again, this occasion being yet another.
Sighing, he bent to shake Prowl online, and when the chevroned youngling stirred, murmuring his name and blinking drowsily at him, he smiled, gently yanking Prowl to his pedes and steering the faintly protesting mechling out of the room and back to his quarters.
14. On-His-Knees
He sighed, kneeling next to the mech seated on the berth, archival records and datapads scattered all over every available flat surface.
“Why are you doing this? I thought you liked us.”
“You and your brother shouldn’t have to be forced into a bonding.” Prowl didn’t turn from his research and Smokescreen sighed.
“We don’t mind.”
Now the black and white mechlet looked up. “Isn’t your freedom important to you?”
“It is. But you two aren’t the type to abuse the contract.” The red and blue youngling shrugged.
“But-”
He took hold of the other young mech’s helm, looking him in the optic, tone firm. “Primus is fair, Prowl. Even if we don’t always appreciate it at the time.” Spark pulsing erratically in his chest at being so close to Prowl, he stood, pulling the youngling along with him.
“Come. You need to refuel and visit the washracks. Your elder brother receives his award today, and you’re not going to show up looking like you went and rolled in a slag heap.”
15. Obedient
“Listen up, you two. You may have run wild all over Cybertron before this, but from now on your afts belong to the Lord’s Guard, and you will obey every order given to you. Your main duty will be the safeguarding of the High Protector’s two youngest. You will follow them, you will watch them, you will not let them out of your sight, understood?”
“Yes sir!”
“Good. Now get to it.”
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker saluted, and left to do their duty.
16. Dominant
“Bluestreak, this is Sunstreaker, and this is Sideswipe. They are to be our personal guard.”
“Oh! Pleased to meet you. I do hope you’ll enjoy working here.”
They’d stared at first. The mechling before them looked in need of protection, with wide optics and an innocent expression. Sunstreaker had snorted, muttering something about having their work cut out for them, sparklingsitting a pair of soft young nobles, and Bluestreak had turned that guileless smile on him.
“I’m learning to defend myself, though I have to admit I’m no Ironhide. Perhaps we should spar, so that you can help me improve?”
= = =
One solid thrashing later…
“Why do you need bodyguards again?”
“Believe me, I asked Ironhide the same thing. But he’s both extremely cautious and a traditionalist, so…” Bluestreak shrugged, smiling ruefully, then extended his hands to help the two younglings he’d just flattened up off the ground.
17. Naive
They weren’t sure what had happened to make their creator push them away. But they hoped that if they did well enough, he’d be proud of them regardless. And then maybe Megatron would like them once more.
18. Drinking-Energon
“Drink.”
“You need it more.”
“We’re capable of running on poorer rations than you. And we need you out there watching our backs.”
“Don’t want some ‘Con to shoot us, do you?”
“You fraggers fight dirty, you know that?”
“We’re keeping you safe and sound. So our means aren’t always above board.”
“I don’t need bodyguards any more, you know.”
“You never needed bodyguards.”
“What you have are two mechs who love you.”
“Now drink.”
“Fragging underhand cheats.”
“Love you too, Bluestreak.”
19. Greedy
Megatron eyed the jets streaking across the sky, then smiled to himself. In a few orns, he would set his plans into motion and his greatest desire would finally be within his grasp.
20. Daring
He could feel the jet’s optics trying to burn a hole through his chassis and into his spark chamber, and it only made his smirk grow wider. As he signed the contract that bound both Prowl and Bluestreak to younglings (groundbound younglings) sparked by a family indebted to his house, one that it seemed prudent (superficially) to cultivate ties to, Megatron glanced at his seething bondmate, daring Starscream to protest as he consigned the seeker’s bastards to their fate.
21. Exploring
The Lord Protector’s residence was huge. Every turn was a new corridor, and every passageway held innumerable secrets kept safe behind locked doors. Smokescreen thought he got lost whenever he was late for their lessons with Prowl and Bluestreak, but in truth Jazz was exploring every inch of their new home, finding places to hide and discovering unusual sights.
Smokescreen started joining him in his explorations after Jazz led him and the two highborn younglings to a room where they stayed for the whole cycle, looking at the paintings and sculptures, distracting them for a moment from the bitter fight going on outside between the Lord Protector and his bonded.
22. At The Beach
This was where they met. The beach where he’d first spotted a young seeker in the air and had been completely smitten. The flier had seen him, had landed and smirked and then tumbled him to the ground in a flurry of hands and touching and moans, and after, the smaller jet had sprawled easily over his chassis as if he belonged there.
Now, it would be where he left Starscream. He’d been sent off-world on an expedition vorns ago, and had come back to a strangely distant seeker. He’d held the mech, loved him and tried to mend whatever it was that wasn’t right. But now he knew it was something he’d never be able to fix. Skyfire cursed himself for being so willing to ignore the glaring truth. Starscream had bonded shortly after he’d left the planet, and whatever they’d had before would never be possible again.
23. Bath-Time
His instructors and fellow cadets in the Cybertronian Army marvelled at his skill when it came to hunting down bots. Barricade never told anyone that compared to getting a certain four younglings into the washracks when they didn’t want to go, the tracking trials were sparkling play.
24. Dishevelled
He glared. The mechs were battered, plating dented and cracked in places, but still unbroken, matching his glower with stoic faces. So Megatron tried another tack, stalking forward, tone low and disgusted.
“Traitors, just like your carrier. His bastards, through and through. You are no creations of mine!”
He did not expect Prowl and Bluestreak to meet his optics, expressions solemn and subtly saddened. He did not expect the mechs he’d helped raise (he snarled at that, the pair weren’t even his own), who’d always tried their utmost to please him, to reply as they did.
“We know.”
25. Exhausted
He was tired, very tired. So tired that all he could do when he heard the sound of approaching bots was try to quiet his intakes so they would overlook him. Hopefully. And Barricade had never been one to put much stock in hope and promises and possibilities. What mattered the most was the situation at hand, the bot with a rifle aimed at your spark, the assassin with an energon blade hidden behind their back, the enemy armada positioned too close to Cybertron for any bot with a functioning logic circuit to be comfortable with, not the fancy talk of bots who’d never set foot on a battlefield.
“ ‘Cade.”
Primus. Why them? He shuttered his optics as two mechs settled on either side of him, one carefully pulling shrapnel out of his arm, the other keeping watch, for Decepticons and Autobots both. All three of them would be killed if found like this. It was enough to make him boot up his vocaliser.
“Go. Away.”
Bluestreak didn’t pause in his task. “After we’re sure you can get back to Megatron.”
“Betraying your faction now? I shouldn’t be surprised.” He hissed, harsh and hurtful. They had to leave. Primus, let them leave.
“Taking care of our brother.” Prowl replied, and he felt the black and white mech shifting to scan another angle.
“I’m not going to tell you anything, you know. And you won’t get me to defect either.”
“We know.” Hot solder dripped into his wounds, patching them up enough to keep him from bleeding out, and a glowing energon cube was placed by his side, in easy reach. His brothers rose, and backed away, turning to leave when he called out quietly.
“Prowl. Bluestr- Blue’.”
The old nickname had his siblings turning bright optics on him, an expression of hope mingled with dread and desperate longing. Something inside him crumbled at that look, and an old, secretly nursed wound started to heal.
“C’mere.”
They were beside him again in a flash, Bluestreak tucking himself close like he’d done when they were younger.
“I can’t betray my creator.”
“Like we did, ‘Cade?” Bluestreak shouldn’t sound so defeated. His youngest brother had always been the lightest spark of their family, before everything had gone to the Pit.
“You didn’t.” Megatron had never been one of their progenitors, after all, and in Barricade’s opinion Starscream hardly counted as one, carrier or no.
“I suppose that’s true.” Prowl’s soft answer made him online his optics at them.
“You knew?”
Bluestreak whispered into his shoulder. “We guessed.”
And by ‘guessed’, he supposed they meant ‘knew without a doubt’. Great. “Starscream made sure to tell me personally.”
He felt both mechs cycle air sharply, and wished he could deny what he had to tell them next, avoid adding to their hurt when their lives were now encompassed with war and pain and suffering. “I hated you.”
Prowl nodded. “We understand.” Did they? Barricade continued.
“But I also loved you. Drove me to the point of glitching.”
“At least you’ve got plenty of experience handling that. Thank goodness for all those fights between Megatron and Starscream, huh.” He vented air at Bluestreak’s attempt at humour, but couldn’t keep the hint of a smile from creeping into his expression.
“We love you too, ‘Cade. That will never change.”
He’d never been one to put much stock in hope and promises and possibilities. But this time, he let himself believe with all his spark.
26. Well-Shagged
He’d suspected something for the longest time. A string of too convenient coincidences. And now, with his bonded lying comatose from a bout of intense interfacing, culminating in a spark sharing, Megatron had his answer. Starscream had been too distracted to hide the truth when their sparks had joined. Sitting up in their berth, the Lord Protector waited for his systems to cool and settle. Setting up a suitable reprisal required a lot of work be done, and he couldn’t do it looking like he’d just overloaded.
27. Kick-Ass
This was… perfection. Pressed back to back with his siblings, exchanging quick glances and challenging grins as they fought. Communicating without words, moving as one unit, flawlessly in sync with each other.
His fiercer battle cries interwove with Bluestreak’s triumphant shouts as the sniper brought down the fliers who’d been harrying them from the sky, watching his littlest brother’s back even as Bluestreak watched his, and through it all was the distinct murmur of Prowl in their audios, the tactician focusing everywhere and considering everything, planning trajectories and movements at lightning speed, keeping them always one step ahead of their opponents even as he took on adversaries of his own.
Soon, the bots on the other teams dropped their weapons and conceded the spar, and Barricade threw his head back and laughed.
Perfect.
28. Playing With Kids
“Well. How the mighty have fallen.”
Barricade lifted his head, then made a rude gesture at the mech smirking down at him (after first ensuring the four younglings pinning him down couldn’t see it, of course).
Ironhide laughed, and the warrior mech grumbled, then roared theatrically as he rolled over to trap his brothers and the two mechlings who’d been brought into the family vorns ago, tickling them into submission as they shrieked with laughter, trying to escape.
'Verse: 2007 Transformers
Characters: Ensemble.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing. Prompts are not in chronological sequence.
Notes: Expansion of this fic.
1. Naughty
“They’re not his, you know.”
Barricade looked up from cleaning his plasma rifle (a gift from Prowl and Bluestreak to commemorate his latest promotion) warily. Starscream had that look in his optics, one that spoke of malicious intent and mischief. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, you’re Megatron’s spawn, definitely. But your brothers aren’t. And they’re the better for it too. You’re not too shabby, even if half your coding comes from our glorious Lord Protector. Then again, my codes are in you as well. But Prowl and Bluestreak will be smarter, sharper, all in all better than you ever will be.”
“You lie!” He sprang up, sending his cleaning tools flying, just barely catching the weapon before it could do the same.
Starscream smirked at him, tone wicked. “Why would I? I had to have you, because of the contract, but they… Ah, I carried them, Barricade, I’d know who sparked them. And it wasn’t Megatron. Why do you think he’s such a fragger to them? He can’t kill them, obviously, but all it takes is a little… accident, hm? And you wouldn’t want anything to happen to your brothers, right? They do so idolise ‘their big brother ‘Cade’, after all.”
“… Damn you, Starscream.”
“Now, is that any way to talk to your carrier? You get that from Megatron, you know. The brutish lack of refinement. If you want to damn anyone, damn him. He was the one who forced me into this. Oh, he’ll say I signed of my own free will, but I know better.”
“Are you done?”
“Oh, not by a long shot. But I’m finished with you. Bye, ’Cade.”
The flier sneered and left the room, cackling with delight when he heard the mech inside snarl and slam a fist against the wall.
2. Happy
He swallowed hard, looking everywhere except at Prowl, forcing out the words that made his spark want to go out. “Jazz loves you. And anyone who bothers to look would know you love him. You make my little brother happy, and that’s all I need.”
“Smokescreen…”
“No. Don’t look at me like that. You want us to be able to choose freely. Very well, I chose to step back. I’ll be fragged before I let you bond with me because you feel it’s your duty to.”
“Smokescreen. Shut up.”
He shut up, assisted by a black and white mech sprawled in his lap, kissing him soundly.
3. Silly
When Prowl finally released him, Smokescreen gaped at the other bot, only for the chevroned mech to chuckle at him. “Silly mech. Did it not occur to you that you might be loved as well?”
When he continued to gape, Prowl snorted and climbed out of his lap.
“I can’t negate the bonding contract, but I found some leeway within its bounds. We can choose which of us bonds to whom.”
“Bluestreak?!”
“If you both bond to me, he’s free to find his own bonds, and I know he has his optic on another pair already.”
“Pair?!”
“My carrier is a jet, and they bond in trines whenever possible. Both Bluestreak and I have inherited that predilection. Smokescreen, weren’t you the one who told me that Primus is fair?”
“Yes but-”
The black and white mech raised an optic ridge at him. “Do I need to kiss you a second time?”
“… Well… I wouldn’t mind it if you did.” Smokescreen smirked, the effect somewhat ruined by his embarrassed air. Prowl only laughed, catching and tugging him close.
“Silly mech.”
And then they kissed again.
4. Angsty
He couldn’t stay. He’d slip up, and Megatron would slaughter them the moment he found out.
Nodding sadly at the pair who were watching him forlornly, he transformed and took off, unable to stay in the Lord Protector’s employ any longer. As he flew further and further away, he saw another pair of mechlings slip out from the shadows to comfort the two who he should never have had to leave.
Silently, Skyfire cursed Starscream for telling him. He could watch Prowl and Bluestreak, teach them, love them as a guardian and caregiver even, if he’d just been left in his blissful ignorance. Silently, he pled, knowing they wouldn’t hear him
‘I’m sorry. Take care of them for me. Please. Good bye.’
5. On-Vacation
The best part about getting a period of leave, Barricade decided, was the looks on his brothers’ faces when he showed up on the doorstep of the family home, processor full of stories to tell them and subspace full of trinkets and image captures from all the places he’d been posted to in service to the Cybertronian army.
6. Horny
“You don’t mind? That I want both your brother and you?”
“Prowl, I held back because I didn’t want to break my brother’s spark. Now that I know you want us both, I see no reason to deny myself what I want.”
And with that, Jazz pounced, and he and his quarry went tumbling back onto said quarry’s berth.
“And, I’m a greedy little fragger who wants all I can get of a particularly attractive mech. Especially when he feels honour bound to make me scream his name in overload as many times as possible.”
7. Transforming
Their first transformation (Prowl had put his off until Bluestreak could join him) should have been a joyous event, but they had heard their creators’ argument late in the cycle, after the guests had left and they were supposed to be in recharge.
“It’s all your fault they don’t have flier forms!”
“I’ll have you know I am capable of taking flight.”
“You were sparked a groundbound deadweight! Because of you they’ll never fly! The only reason you have those protocols at all is because of our bonding!”
“So make sure they bond to fliers, if you’re so hung up on that.”
“Maybe I will!”
Prowl had curled around a shaking Bluestreak, and Barricade had found them like that a few breems later. He carried them back to their berths, joining them when they didn’t let go of him. Prowl didn’t understand. True, they couldn’t take on flier alts, but his vehicle form was a good one, because Barricade had one too. Bluestreak had made the same choice, with the same reason. He whispered as much to his elder brother, and felt the warrior mech pet his helm gently.
“It’s alright. Starscream was hoping for fliers after I ended up groundbound. He’ll accept that you can’t help how you were sparked after sulking about it for a while.”
Prowl nodded, and felt Barricade slowly powering down. He did the same, drifting into recharge, wondering just why having a flight alt sounded right.
8. Excited
“’Cade! ‘Cade!”
“What is it, brat?”
“Look!”
“I see. You beat the training AI. Congratulations, bitling.”
“Starscream was very pleased. … Do you think our other creator will be?”
“… I’m sure. I’ll tell him the next time I see him, alright?”
“Thanks, ‘Cade.”
“… I’m proud of you, little brother. Now. Let’s see if you can take on a real mech, hm?”
“You mean…”
“Yeah. You versus me. Don’t worry, Prowl. I’ll go easy on you.”
9. Book-Reading
It was one of his favourite things to do, stealing into the library to listen as Prowl read Bluestreak’s favourite bookfiles to him, or watch as the black and white youngling studied, trying to solve some problem Shockwave or Skyfire, their tutors, had set him. Sometimes, he’d be spotted, and he’d slink over to share Bluestreak’s seat or Prowl’s table, grinning sheepishly when he was reminded that he was allowed free run of the place and didn’t have to skulk in the dark corners.
But he kept on sneaking in, kept on trying to avoid too sharp sensors to observe them unawares. Smokescreen thought it was a game, but to him, it was something… else. Jazz didn’t know quite what yet, but that just meant he had to keep doing it ‘till he figured it out.
10. Dancing
Scowling, Starscream watched the two younglings chase each other, then turn their attentions on their older sibling, dancing lightly about the heavier built groundling as only the seeker sparked could. He glanced at the medical report in his hand, then back at his sparklings. If Prowl and Bluestreak took on flight capable alts, as was their sparkright, they stood a good chance of ending up with Skyfire’s particular sort of frame. Megatron would suspect his bondmate’s little ‘dalliance’ in a nanoclick.
So they couldn’t. Their flight protocols would have to be removed, their inherent coding modified to remove all possibility of that occurring.
Hiding his snarl, he called to his two youngest, his skysparks, and they ran to him, laughing. The seeker almost sneered at their enthusiasm. Sparked to fly, to command the air currents and chase the horizon, yet they were going to be locked to the ground, their wings clipped by their carrier’s own hand.
Would they still dance so lightly if they knew what he was going to do to them?
11. Jealous
He was jealous, no two ways about it. His brothers (half brothers, and it had shocked him to learn that) were rising fast in the armed forces, quicker than he had. Prowl would no doubt be offered an officer’s post soon, and Bluestreak was already leading his own strike team. Even their… consorts… were doing well, thriving in special ops.
But what galled him the most was that every free moment they had that overlapped with his own spare cycles, the four mechs were looking for him, optics bright, expressions joyful, wanting to talk to him about what they’d done and seen and learnt, eager for his opinions and judgement.
They only wanted him to be proud of them, he knew. He’d been the one to set them on this path, after all.
But frag if every time he saw one of them, he remembered what Starscream had hissed into his audio, and his spark turned just that little bit more bitter.
12. Turned-On
It was a sparring match like any other sparring match, and as usual Bluestreak was kicking their afts. Sideswipe lunged and his brother swept low, hoping the combined attack would throw the grey mech off balance enough for them to win this one, not expecting the ploy to succeed. But Bluestreak fell, stunning them long enough for the chevroned mech to twist and land atop Sunstreaker, pulling Sideswipe down with him.
They gaped at the grey mech sandwiched between them. Bluestreak flickered bright blue optics innocently at his unwitting captors before smirking, revving his engine in an unmistakable manner. Their engines responded immediately and the grey mech laughed at the way they blinked at each other, then arched against Sunstreaker as he pulled Sideswipe down for a kiss.
“Really, I have to do everything around here.”
13. Caring
It had come as a surprise, to find that he was the oldest of the four. While Bluestreak’s age was obvious, the youngest of their group being an unabashed cuddler, leaning into anyone who stayed still long enough for him to latch onto, Prowl always carried himself with such dignity and gravitas that Smokescreen felt like a callow scraplet next to him. Not that he wasn’t a callow scraplet, but it was the principle of the thing.
Still, there were little things that gave the youth of the highborn youngling away. Prowl tended to forget everything else when studying or caught up in something that interested him. Smokescreen had lost count of the number of times he’d had to chivvy Prowl off to his berth after the white and black mechling had obviously decided to ignore the needs of his systems again, this occasion being yet another.
Sighing, he bent to shake Prowl online, and when the chevroned youngling stirred, murmuring his name and blinking drowsily at him, he smiled, gently yanking Prowl to his pedes and steering the faintly protesting mechling out of the room and back to his quarters.
14. On-His-Knees
He sighed, kneeling next to the mech seated on the berth, archival records and datapads scattered all over every available flat surface.
“Why are you doing this? I thought you liked us.”
“You and your brother shouldn’t have to be forced into a bonding.” Prowl didn’t turn from his research and Smokescreen sighed.
“We don’t mind.”
Now the black and white mechlet looked up. “Isn’t your freedom important to you?”
“It is. But you two aren’t the type to abuse the contract.” The red and blue youngling shrugged.
“But-”
He took hold of the other young mech’s helm, looking him in the optic, tone firm. “Primus is fair, Prowl. Even if we don’t always appreciate it at the time.” Spark pulsing erratically in his chest at being so close to Prowl, he stood, pulling the youngling along with him.
“Come. You need to refuel and visit the washracks. Your elder brother receives his award today, and you’re not going to show up looking like you went and rolled in a slag heap.”
15. Obedient
“Listen up, you two. You may have run wild all over Cybertron before this, but from now on your afts belong to the Lord’s Guard, and you will obey every order given to you. Your main duty will be the safeguarding of the High Protector’s two youngest. You will follow them, you will watch them, you will not let them out of your sight, understood?”
“Yes sir!”
“Good. Now get to it.”
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker saluted, and left to do their duty.
16. Dominant
“Bluestreak, this is Sunstreaker, and this is Sideswipe. They are to be our personal guard.”
“Oh! Pleased to meet you. I do hope you’ll enjoy working here.”
They’d stared at first. The mechling before them looked in need of protection, with wide optics and an innocent expression. Sunstreaker had snorted, muttering something about having their work cut out for them, sparklingsitting a pair of soft young nobles, and Bluestreak had turned that guileless smile on him.
“I’m learning to defend myself, though I have to admit I’m no Ironhide. Perhaps we should spar, so that you can help me improve?”
= = =
One solid thrashing later…
“Why do you need bodyguards again?”
“Believe me, I asked Ironhide the same thing. But he’s both extremely cautious and a traditionalist, so…” Bluestreak shrugged, smiling ruefully, then extended his hands to help the two younglings he’d just flattened up off the ground.
17. Naive
They weren’t sure what had happened to make their creator push them away. But they hoped that if they did well enough, he’d be proud of them regardless. And then maybe Megatron would like them once more.
18. Drinking-Energon
“Drink.”
“You need it more.”
“We’re capable of running on poorer rations than you. And we need you out there watching our backs.”
“Don’t want some ‘Con to shoot us, do you?”
“You fraggers fight dirty, you know that?”
“We’re keeping you safe and sound. So our means aren’t always above board.”
“I don’t need bodyguards any more, you know.”
“You never needed bodyguards.”
“What you have are two mechs who love you.”
“Now drink.”
“Fragging underhand cheats.”
“Love you too, Bluestreak.”
19. Greedy
Megatron eyed the jets streaking across the sky, then smiled to himself. In a few orns, he would set his plans into motion and his greatest desire would finally be within his grasp.
20. Daring
He could feel the jet’s optics trying to burn a hole through his chassis and into his spark chamber, and it only made his smirk grow wider. As he signed the contract that bound both Prowl and Bluestreak to younglings (groundbound younglings) sparked by a family indebted to his house, one that it seemed prudent (superficially) to cultivate ties to, Megatron glanced at his seething bondmate, daring Starscream to protest as he consigned the seeker’s bastards to their fate.
21. Exploring
The Lord Protector’s residence was huge. Every turn was a new corridor, and every passageway held innumerable secrets kept safe behind locked doors. Smokescreen thought he got lost whenever he was late for their lessons with Prowl and Bluestreak, but in truth Jazz was exploring every inch of their new home, finding places to hide and discovering unusual sights.
Smokescreen started joining him in his explorations after Jazz led him and the two highborn younglings to a room where they stayed for the whole cycle, looking at the paintings and sculptures, distracting them for a moment from the bitter fight going on outside between the Lord Protector and his bonded.
22. At The Beach
This was where they met. The beach where he’d first spotted a young seeker in the air and had been completely smitten. The flier had seen him, had landed and smirked and then tumbled him to the ground in a flurry of hands and touching and moans, and after, the smaller jet had sprawled easily over his chassis as if he belonged there.
Now, it would be where he left Starscream. He’d been sent off-world on an expedition vorns ago, and had come back to a strangely distant seeker. He’d held the mech, loved him and tried to mend whatever it was that wasn’t right. But now he knew it was something he’d never be able to fix. Skyfire cursed himself for being so willing to ignore the glaring truth. Starscream had bonded shortly after he’d left the planet, and whatever they’d had before would never be possible again.
23. Bath-Time
His instructors and fellow cadets in the Cybertronian Army marvelled at his skill when it came to hunting down bots. Barricade never told anyone that compared to getting a certain four younglings into the washracks when they didn’t want to go, the tracking trials were sparkling play.
24. Dishevelled
He glared. The mechs were battered, plating dented and cracked in places, but still unbroken, matching his glower with stoic faces. So Megatron tried another tack, stalking forward, tone low and disgusted.
“Traitors, just like your carrier. His bastards, through and through. You are no creations of mine!”
He did not expect Prowl and Bluestreak to meet his optics, expressions solemn and subtly saddened. He did not expect the mechs he’d helped raise (he snarled at that, the pair weren’t even his own), who’d always tried their utmost to please him, to reply as they did.
“We know.”
25. Exhausted
He was tired, very tired. So tired that all he could do when he heard the sound of approaching bots was try to quiet his intakes so they would overlook him. Hopefully. And Barricade had never been one to put much stock in hope and promises and possibilities. What mattered the most was the situation at hand, the bot with a rifle aimed at your spark, the assassin with an energon blade hidden behind their back, the enemy armada positioned too close to Cybertron for any bot with a functioning logic circuit to be comfortable with, not the fancy talk of bots who’d never set foot on a battlefield.
“ ‘Cade.”
Primus. Why them? He shuttered his optics as two mechs settled on either side of him, one carefully pulling shrapnel out of his arm, the other keeping watch, for Decepticons and Autobots both. All three of them would be killed if found like this. It was enough to make him boot up his vocaliser.
“Go. Away.”
Bluestreak didn’t pause in his task. “After we’re sure you can get back to Megatron.”
“Betraying your faction now? I shouldn’t be surprised.” He hissed, harsh and hurtful. They had to leave. Primus, let them leave.
“Taking care of our brother.” Prowl replied, and he felt the black and white mech shifting to scan another angle.
“I’m not going to tell you anything, you know. And you won’t get me to defect either.”
“We know.” Hot solder dripped into his wounds, patching them up enough to keep him from bleeding out, and a glowing energon cube was placed by his side, in easy reach. His brothers rose, and backed away, turning to leave when he called out quietly.
“Prowl. Bluestr- Blue’.”
The old nickname had his siblings turning bright optics on him, an expression of hope mingled with dread and desperate longing. Something inside him crumbled at that look, and an old, secretly nursed wound started to heal.
“C’mere.”
They were beside him again in a flash, Bluestreak tucking himself close like he’d done when they were younger.
“I can’t betray my creator.”
“Like we did, ‘Cade?” Bluestreak shouldn’t sound so defeated. His youngest brother had always been the lightest spark of their family, before everything had gone to the Pit.
“You didn’t.” Megatron had never been one of their progenitors, after all, and in Barricade’s opinion Starscream hardly counted as one, carrier or no.
“I suppose that’s true.” Prowl’s soft answer made him online his optics at them.
“You knew?”
Bluestreak whispered into his shoulder. “We guessed.”
And by ‘guessed’, he supposed they meant ‘knew without a doubt’. Great. “Starscream made sure to tell me personally.”
He felt both mechs cycle air sharply, and wished he could deny what he had to tell them next, avoid adding to their hurt when their lives were now encompassed with war and pain and suffering. “I hated you.”
Prowl nodded. “We understand.” Did they? Barricade continued.
“But I also loved you. Drove me to the point of glitching.”
“At least you’ve got plenty of experience handling that. Thank goodness for all those fights between Megatron and Starscream, huh.” He vented air at Bluestreak’s attempt at humour, but couldn’t keep the hint of a smile from creeping into his expression.
“We love you too, ‘Cade. That will never change.”
He’d never been one to put much stock in hope and promises and possibilities. But this time, he let himself believe with all his spark.
26. Well-Shagged
He’d suspected something for the longest time. A string of too convenient coincidences. And now, with his bonded lying comatose from a bout of intense interfacing, culminating in a spark sharing, Megatron had his answer. Starscream had been too distracted to hide the truth when their sparks had joined. Sitting up in their berth, the Lord Protector waited for his systems to cool and settle. Setting up a suitable reprisal required a lot of work be done, and he couldn’t do it looking like he’d just overloaded.
27. Kick-Ass
This was… perfection. Pressed back to back with his siblings, exchanging quick glances and challenging grins as they fought. Communicating without words, moving as one unit, flawlessly in sync with each other.
His fiercer battle cries interwove with Bluestreak’s triumphant shouts as the sniper brought down the fliers who’d been harrying them from the sky, watching his littlest brother’s back even as Bluestreak watched his, and through it all was the distinct murmur of Prowl in their audios, the tactician focusing everywhere and considering everything, planning trajectories and movements at lightning speed, keeping them always one step ahead of their opponents even as he took on adversaries of his own.
Soon, the bots on the other teams dropped their weapons and conceded the spar, and Barricade threw his head back and laughed.
Perfect.
28. Playing With Kids
“Well. How the mighty have fallen.”
Barricade lifted his head, then made a rude gesture at the mech smirking down at him (after first ensuring the four younglings pinning him down couldn’t see it, of course).
Ironhide laughed, and the warrior mech grumbled, then roared theatrically as he rolled over to trap his brothers and the two mechlings who’d been brought into the family vorns ago, tickling them into submission as they shrieked with laughter, trying to escape.