Wings of Love Chapter 7
Title: Wings of Love
Fandom: Transformers AU
Author: ledishae anddeathmustangg
Pairing/Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Ratchet, First Aid, Tracks
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harpies, creatures with angelic faces and the bodies and talons of the fiercest hunting avians, had long been rivals of the gryphons, the eagle/lion beasts of legendary might. Yet, being inthe wrong place at just the right time brings three would be enemies together against a common foe.
Warnings: Mature situations, mentions of rape.
Word Count: 3778
Disclaimer: All Transformer characters belong to their respective owners, I'm just having a little fun.
A/N: This was a prompt by deathmustang from lj, she gets all credit for the story idea, I'm just putting it to words. All Transformers belong to their respective creators.
Warnings: Contains mentions of interfacing and emotional turmoil.
Sideswipe shifted uncomfortably in the early predawn light. He should be preening; their tryst with the harpy last night had been electrifying. Inexperienced and uncertain Ratchet had made a wonderful lover, someone Sideswipe found himself falling for constantly. Still, Ratchet's words haunted him.
"This doesn't count," Ratchet panted as they wound down from their lovemaking, frames still entwined.
"Of course not, we didn't get you anything." Sideswipe rumbled with sated satisfaction as he grinned winningly while Sunstreaker silently turned Ratchet's face for a deep, lingering, grateful kiss.
"Then," Ratchet rasped optics dusky with sated lust as his lips parted from his golden temporary lover, "What do we call this?"
"A tryst," Sunstreaker rumbled happily.
Sobering Ratchet looked between them, "Has this happened often?"
Sideswipe sighed fidgeting once more. He clicked his beak anxiously spark twisting as the memories from the previous night continued to haunt him.
Ratchet stared at Sideswipe as the gryphon finished talking, words tumbling from him like a waterfall. Ratchet, optics dim suddenly seemed so distant. He looked downcast as if they had somehow cheapened him. He had left them then, frame shifting to grant him wings before silently gliding to the river to bathe.
"You told him friggin' everything!" Sunstreaker hissed at Sideswipe, staring his brother down savagely as Sideswipe seemed to fall into a horrified stupor.
"He's going to leave us isn't he?" The words finally slipped from Sideswipe's mouth, so horrified at what he had done he couldn't find his gryphon form. Stuck as a common mech Sunstreaker had to lift him down to the river where they tentatively approached Ratchet.
"Are there mini Sideswipes and Sunstreakers out there I don't know about?" Ratchet asked softly, desperately attempting to remain collected as he bathed, frame shivering at the twins' closeness.
"No," Sunstreaker replied flatly, "Our clan holds to taking a preventative. All youngsters are shown the herbs to take when they're old enough to be interested in finding a mate. We have always taken ours."
Somehow Ratchet had seen through them, known that something was left unsaid. He never asked though, and somehow that made Sideswipe feel all the worse. He looked over his shoulder over to the sleeping harpies, smiling painfully with the longing for that happiness to be his. Sideswipe shook himself, and launched from the tree. He would not rouse his brother or the harpies they were trying to win as their family. No, he would be productive. Nodding to himself against the cool morning breeze he headed to the river looking for fish and maybe, hopefully redemption.
Sunstreaker huffed as he lie next to the warm harpy pile, wishing he dared creep closer. Their success in winning Ratchet with their charms the night before had seemed so wonderful - until that dammed question. Why did Ratchet have to ask them about their past exploits? Why did Sides have to answer truthfully? And, most of all, why did the last words from his clan still echo in his processors like a premonition?
"But, you two promised, we'd be together!" A bright green femme cried from the crowd. "You promised!" She looked to the red plumed mech she thought she had loved and gaped at his bland shrug as he brushed past her. "What about the sparklet?"
"You wanted it." Sideswipe replied over his shoulder with a shrug, realizing only as the chorused shouts of outrage that maybe sparking up the femme without a true mating flight might not have been a good idea. He sent a mental shove towards his brother who tore out of their cave, meager belongings bundled against his chest as both took to the skies flying for their very lives from the outraged clan they no longer belonged to.
"You sparked her?" Sunstreaker demanded as they tore through the skies, eagle forearms and talons burdened with the only possessions they could claim.
"We, dear brother, we sparked her. You were no less enthusiastic."
Greenlight had been the most easy femme in their clan. Any new bachelors just come of age, or gray tips, sworn against mating to serve as clan guards that got lonely, she was with them. Their tryst had been great. She was throaty and willing, raising her tail for them with little prompting. But, they had never missed their preventative. That made him angry, how could that femme accuse them of being creators when they had taken such care?
The others' encounters had been a confirmation of sorts, ensuring that neither had returned the femme's advances without taking precautions. Trysts were common for gryphons, it was part of their courtship. Trysts proved their earthly skills while the flights showed off their strengths, their capacity to protect each other and their ferocity in battle. These were integral to finding their lifelong mates. So how could they have sparked her?
It was easier to have flown from their clan. Greenlight's words had just clenched their fates, ensuring Arcee would seek their deaths. They were taboo, split sparked twins who sought to share the same mate. Sunstreaker paused, Greenlight's accusation churning in his processors. They had never promised her anything.
"You two look lonely," Greenlight purred, rubbing seductively against Sideswipe as she lifted her tail to Sunstreaker. She had smelled so good, fresh from the bathing pools, her feathers scented with the winds. Alluring and tantalizing they could not help but take her advances, knowing that this was as close to realizing their hope of sharing a mate they would ever get.
Sunstreaker huffed and rose, unwilling to remain cramped so close to what he desired and moved to the edge of the bole they currently rested in. He flicked his tail, shifting his wings as he settled in the dew laden branches. He could feel Sideswipe's despair, his own depression as his mind spiraled around last night.
"Do you hate me, for having Aid?" Ratchet asked softly at Sunstreaker's side.
Flinching, Sunstreaker looked to the harpy, drinking in the figure drenched in the sun's first light. "You never mated to his creator, so how can we?"
Ratchet sighed, "So, how's this supposed to work?"
"Can we get through our probation period first?" Sunstreaker asked desperately, "Just, let us win you? Let us train your kids and take it from there?"
Ratchet studied the gryphon, suddenly chuckling at the despair he saw in those optics, "Did you two think I would hate you? Just because you two had found a trysting partner?"
"Uh, yes?" Sunstreaker replied, optics brightening with hope despite the abashed uncertainty that filled his processor that the harpy would willingly stand so close.
"Don't relax just yet." Ratchet warned flatly as Sunstreaker's optics brightened, "You two basically accused me of being a harlot for having Aid before I even fully understood that I was a carrier. I can't just forgive you two for that, then dropping the little tid bit that you had had trysts, plural, before you even left your clan. If you two want me you better stop jumping to conclusions that topping me once or twice means you know anything about me."
"You asked if there were little gryphons from us." Sunstreaker spoke up, flinching as Ratchet's optics slitted dangerously. "Uh, well, we were wondering, is it possible to become immune to preventatives?"
Ratchet blinked, standing up straighter to think. "It can happen, why do you ask?"
"The only way there would be little gryphons is if Sides and I and -um, a previous partner? - were immune at the same time."
"I need to know what this preventative is and if she took something different, or the same thing." Ratchet glared out into the sky thinking over the various forms of preventatives that could be created. Sunstreaker pulled a small scarp of rare parchment out of sub-space. On it was detailed drawings of various plants, lists of colors, and where they grew. It was beautifully scripted, each image looked real enough Ratchet expected the delicate leaves to shiver in the rising breeze.
"This is amazing," Ratchet looked at Sunstreaker in awe, optics glowing in amazement at the elegant scrawl bearing Sunsreaker's name at the bottom.
"We've never been good with plants," Sunstreaker shrugged off the look he was getting from the harpy, knowing that he would do something drastic to the harpy if those intense, blue optics didn't cease their spell on him.
Finally, Ratchet looked back to the parchment, studying the listed ingredients. "This is pretty common, and I've never heard of anyone becoming immune to it." Ratchet paused frowning, "But, there is a counter measure."
"A what?" Sunstreaker asked, the spell Ratchet's optics had woven around him vanishing in an instant.
"If someone wanted a spark, they could take the counter measure and not suffer any ill effects." Ratchet filled in, "Someone would have to give it to both parties though."
Sunstreaker shook his head, "Our clan leader was never very fond of us, we've always made our own."
"Then you should have nothing to worry about - provided she didn't make you drink anything just before hand." Ratchet handed back the paper, fingers trailing lightly over Sunstreaker's talons before he steeled himself and turned towards his younglings.
"If, somehow that did happen, would we be worth it?" Sunstreaker asked softly towards Ratchet's back.
"I don't know," Ratchet replied honestly, "But I hope you prove to be." He looked affectionately at the golden gryphon with a small, fragile smile.
"Would you two just kiss each other and quit the drama?" Blades asked roughly as his young voice cracked with the first hints of puberty, "Some of us actually want to get up." The others giggled as they sat up, catching Ratchet looking flustered and Sunstreaker scowling. Hyper and hungry the young harpies surged past Ratchet and into the skies circling as they looked for the red gryphon, and hopefully another fishing lesson.
Ratchet scowled at his shadow extending down the road before him. His once slender waist was thickening rapidly, as were his normally bony ankles. Soon, he would no longer have any of the damned traits that marked him as a mech carrier. He sighed, hating the truth before his optics. He was sparked, and those dumb, alluring, endearing, obnoxious gryphons were the cause. He blamed them entirely, they caught him in heat, found him, trained his younglings, took care of them and they were damned attractive. It was not fair.
Worse, his younglings had figured it out before he had. Streetwise and that book, the little bookworm had read up on carrier mechs and saw the signs. Ratchet wished he could have stayed in denial for a while longer. Now that it was real, knowing this time what he was going to be experiencing over the next vorn while the spark grew in his chest, he wasn't sure he could go through with this.
The sparkling would be a hybrid, some strange mixture of harpy and gryphon, and no guarantee it would carry to term. Harpies had never believed in terminating a spark, never condoned the death of a new life, but would he be doing the mixed creature a favor? If he was not carrying the gryphons would leave, and he would be back to just his five mechlings. It could be enough, just the six of them. It would have to be.
Ratchet flinched as worried fingers brushed away a stray tear he had not realized was there. Looking up he found Sunstreaker and Sideswipe looking down on him worriedly.
"What's wrong?" Sideswipe asked while his optics raked over every square inch of Ratchet's plating.
"Congratulations," Ratchet swallowed tightly, "You're going to be creators." His face fell and he could only bury his face in his hands, sucking in air as he forced himself from breaking down.
At a loss, the twins drew Ratchet close, rubbing his back and arms soothingly while they tried to fathom this reaction from the harpy. "Aren't you supposed to be happy?" Sideswipe asked and instantly regretted it. "I mean, uh um - thank you?"
Ratchet only shook as insecurity filled his lines. Sunstreaker sighed, pulling Ratchet to his chest, lightly pressing the harpy's helm to his spark. "Part of this is here." He put his hand over Ratchet's spark chamber, "Part of you is here. Whatever happens we will be here for you, mating flight or not."
"What if - what if it doesn't carry?" Ratchet asked softly, hesitant to voice his fears. Trembling at the thought of enduring the sensation of the young spark guttering in his chest before it was ready for harvesting.
Sunstreaker looked to Sideswipe at a loss, faces set in near panic their shared bond was mute while they tried to formulate something that would keep them in the harpy's good graces and him at their sides. "Ratch, we would grieve, it would be horrible. I don't - can't imagine, but we would also stay by your side, irregardless. We will not let you suffer in any way, alone. That is, if you would keep us?" Sunstreaker spoke gruffly while Sideswipe tried not to gag at the mushy crap his brother was somehow spewing with a straight face.
"You two are making me sick." Ratchet mumbled into Sunstreaker's chest plates, shoulders trembling slightly with the first stirrings of mirth.
Smirking Sideswipe leaned close, "We would bring you the richest fish from the sea on platters of gold and delicacies from the furthest mountains stewed in rich energon wine. We will rub your feet and feed you the sweetest mountain berries while you lie in our laps safely sheltered from the world."
"Please stop, I beg you!" Ratchet cackled, at the horrendous image. "I'm a carrier mech, not some sappy sparked gryphon femme."
"Why were you crying?" Sideswipe asked in all seriousness, "I thought new sparks would have been celebrated."
"Sideswipe, I don't have a territory, no permanent place. If this spark carries I'll still be raising a youngling as a wanderer. That is if the spark is viable." Ratchet sighed, rubbing his face clean of his tears.
"One thing at a time, Ratch," Sunstreaker rumbled, "First we get the spark to term. Then we worry about the rest."
Ratchet leaned against Sideswipe's shoulder wishing his fears could quell with their words. Slowly as stringe silence filled his audios, making him tense until he looked around, spinal strut stiff with silent fear. "Where are my younglings?" He looked around sharply, finally noting the absence of his young and feared as his realization was followed by the distant, lonely call of the sea.
"We left them at a tide pool trying to catch - strange, disgusting things." Sunstreaker replied unable to tell what the strange armored creatures were that held massive claws before them like shields and walked sideways on too many legs.
"Are they roundish, solid, like to pinch?" Ratchet asked finally letting his mind turn to his younglings and away from the worries of the new spark. The gryphons nodded, turning him from the last rise on the dirt road to the final few feet leading to the sea. "They're called crabs, and despite their appearance they are rather tasty."
Sunstreaker blanched at the thought of eating the vile looking things but said nothing, instead focused on watching Ratchet. The last ten days on the road had been a constant adventure, the hunters were absent in the region and they finally got to see Ratchet in action as a healer at the last way station. Despite the games with Ratchet's younglings and their - mostly failed - attempts at wooing Ratchet they were getting antsy and suppressing their irritation with the situation, Ratchet and each other was starting to wear down on them.
They moved across the strange, soft shifting purplish sands along the beach, the gryphons grimacing as fine particles worked into small gaps in the plating. Sunstreaker shuddered, shaking back paws and talons with every step, frustration mounting as the irritating particles refused to leave him and only found ways of working deeper into the plating.
Ratchet finally cackled, "You look like a manticore kitten in its first bath!" Sunstreaker only scowled, optics slitted dangerously as a semi-feral light glowed behind his optics.
"Keep laughing harpy, you get to clean this sket out of my plating." The yellow gryphon snarled, growling further when they left the soft, shifting sands of the beach to the denser, moist sand of the shore where the dampness made the particles sticky clinging further within his underplating. Their steps took them past the thick band of pitch black sand and sticky rust red grit before the sea. There, past the first jutting spires of rough crystal rolled the sea, white caps resembling charging unicorns locked in an eternal dance between the vast garnet hued ocean and the shifting black sands.
The brilliantly hued frames of the young harpies shone like jewels on the shore all surrounding a small pool giggling and screeching as they scrabbled with strange wriggling creatures pulled from the shallow, ruddy hued depths. Ratchet paused, drinking in the sight of his younglings playing. The days since the gryphons had joined them had been hard on the younglings. They woke before dawn, faced off against the gryphons in training bouts until mid morning then traveled all day only to learn new techniques in hunting before night fell. Each night they slept like the dead and woke only to repeat the same cycle over again. He had never seen them so happy.
Ratchet had never pushed them so hard. Yet, now with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe playing trainers Ratchet had the time to remake his medical kits and train Aid in some of the simple uses. With a small smile on his face he looked to the small belt Aid wore containing the small bulging satchel that carried his first healing kit.
If Ratchet forgot his increasingly masculine looking frame, the absence of his bearing scar and the slight weariness that was going to become his constant companion his life would be perfect. Shoulders sagging he huffed slightly, it was a lie. He was bringing a new spark into the world. He had no territory, no harem and he was still wary of the gryphons that continued to hesitantly court him.
"Uncle Ratch!" Blades called out scampering across the rocky shore to the damp sands bearing strange, multi-legged creatures that writhed in their desperate attempts to escape. As he approached Sunstreaker leapt backwards, keeping as much distance between his frame and the wet, slimy looking monsters from the tide pools. "Aren't they awesome!"
Ratchet knelt, opening his hands to take some of Blades' burden. "All of these can be eaten. Crabs and lobsters are especially good." Ratchet smiled, stroking Blades' helm proudly, "Why don't you and your brothers gather as many of these guys as you can, and tonight we'll have a sea side picnic."
"All right! Hey guys! We can eat them!" Blades raced back to his brothers all grinning as they spread out among the other pools collecting the many colored spiny creatures.
"You expect us to eat that?" Sunstreaker rumbled disgustedly.
"Hey, why not? It'll be fun." Sideswipe grinned hugely, "Unless Sunny's afraid of a little crab? - Ouch!"
Sunstreaker snarled as he slammed into his brother bearing both down to tussle on the sands. Ratchet stared at the pair, optics wide. The pair had been the strong, gregarious guardians of his family for the last few days and now he remembered their ferocity while he had been in heat. Remembered that they had broken through an energy cage effortlessly and chased him with single minded determination despite their new won freedom.
The pair rolled to their feet fluidly rounding on each other and lunged. They slammed their fists into each other, optics bright with unspoken emotions. Mid swing they shifted from common to gryphon landing fisted talons on one another and taking their fight to the air.
Ratchet watched them go, an inkling of realization dawning on him. The gryphons had been so intense in their pursuit for his affections, they rarely spoke of anything that did not immediately affect them, and yet something had seemed off about them. Now, he worried. Were they really this violent, willing to rip each other's plating off for a mere slight? Or was there something deeper he needed to know? Swallowing tightly Ratchet turned from the aerial fight and moved to his younglings guiding them through the shallows and keeping them distracted from the brothers' battle overhead.
"… then we high tailed it out of there!" Sideswipe grinned hugely while Hot Spot and his brothers cackled at the recounted tale of the gryphons' antics as younglings. The fight earlier had been brewing for far too long. After being captured just below the Mouth of Primus they had been the caged fighting mechs for the hunters. They had spent months, maybe longer, trapped within their prison of energy passing from hunting camp to hunting camp forced to fight others of the Free Races to the death. Now, free for almost fifteen days the sudden serenity had nearly driven them crazy. Somehow they had to strip the battle lust from themselves, or else they would lose the harpy.
The long aerial battle had quelled their anxiety and battle lust, with Ratchet somehow turning it into a way to teach his younglings more about fighting and battle. It was amazing, Ratchet's skill with Groove, Streetwise, Blades, Hot Spot and First Aid. The five were different enough in age, varied in their interests and temperaments yet, they adored their guardian.
"Will we be able to fight like you someday?" Blades asked eagerly once the laughter had died down.
"Maybe," Sideswipe replied, ruffling the young harpy's crest.
"What if we don't want to?" Groove asked somberly, looking off into the distance towards a lonely stand of scrub that marked the edge of the shoreline and the unknown plains to the south.
"Then you will know how to keep yourself alive." Sunstreaker rumbled, "Out there," he nodded towards the lonely hills, "There are mechs who will kill you for no better reason than because they can. If you want to know what's out there, you have to be able to keep yourself alive on the journey."
Groove looked up to Sunstreaker with adoring optics. No one understood his need to be alone at times. No one wanted to let him find that quiet silence his spark longed for. Yet, Sunstreaker seemed to. "If I get good enough would I last out there on my own?"
"For a while," Sunstreaker confirmed, "But try to make time to visit Ratchet when you do. Having a guardian that really cares if you're alive is rather rare. Don't ruin that affection by running away permanently."
"I won't!" Groove smiled shyly and reached out to Ratchet, taking the large red hand in his own and clinging tightly to it.
Ratchet smiled gratefully at Sunstreaker as he drew Groove closer. The middle youngling was showing signs of wanting to pull away from their family. Often distracted, he would vanish into the underbrush at times after they made camp. With the arrival of the gryphons he had taken to finding his own isolation more often, and increasingly it had been Sunstreaker to bring him back.
"What is that light?" Hot Spot pointed towards the nearby sea where an ethereal light shimmered from the shallow depths.
Ratchet looked over, frame stiffening as he swore roundly, "It's a ghost net. Hunters are here, they use nets made of light and energy to trap the free races. Some of the sea-clans can take much smaller forms and slip through normal nets. Those," He gestured towards the light, "Keep them in their larger frames and lock up their transformations."
"What happens when they get trapped?" Aid asked fearfully.
"They drown, the fortunate ones at least." Ratchet paused, "Or starve to death if they're lucky. The unlucky ones live long enough to be harvested by the hunters."
"Then we have to get rid of them!" Hot Spot demanded staring Ratchet and the gryphons down to make his point.
"We will," Ratchet promised, "Would you two help them?" He looked to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, gauging their responses as he asked.
"Sure." Sideswipe grinned, ruffling Streetwise and Hot Spots helms with their protests gracing his hearing.
"Why?" Sunstreaker demanded immediately after, staring Ratchet down. "Why can't you?"
"This is siren territory." Ratchet sighed. "Sirens lure their prey by song, and are fiercely territorial. Right now we are on unclaimed land, once we pass that ridge we no longer will be. I know the siren that guards the frontier between their territory and the forest. I just need to let him know I am not alone. I can't afford to have him eat anyone or let us be eaten by others further down the shore."
"I thought sirens were femmes." Sideswipe blurted with confusion.
"Normally, they are, but like me there are exceptions. Mech sirens are like harpy carrier mechs."
"If sirens are normally femmes then what are their mechs?" Streetwise asked, face blank with a confusion mirrored by his brothers.
"Sirens stay close to shore and are normally femmes, their occasional mates are mer-mechs." Ratchet raised his hand as the others all began to protest this information. "I know, 'but what about the mer-femmes?' Right?" They nodded. "When I first came through that siren had to explain to me for six days what kind of slagging screwed up species he's a part of. The simplest explanation is this:
"Sirens and mer-mechs were once a single species. They spent half their lives swimming in the seas, and half on the shores. Eventually the femmes took more time on the shore to raise their younglings while the mechs ventured to sea for the hunting. Generations went by with the femmes being sirens mating mer-mechs from the seas. Then, on rare occasions the violent femmes would appear within the mer-folk numbers and the uncanny mechs would appear among the sirens.
"Both halves of their species use song to lure their prey into shore, so watch out. Normally they wear face guards that keep their spells at bay and make them harmless. If they don't have that on, they can and will draw you in to your deaths."
The younglings gulped nervously while Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shifted from the others giving themselves enough space to attack any unknown enemies that may come from the darkness. The group fell silent all lost in thoughts of the species that inhabited the seemingly barren shore and the all too real possibility that the hunters may not be their only concerns in the darkness.
Groove shivered in the early morning mists on the shore, frame shivering from the cold wind and colder waves lapping around his waist. His fingers were numb and his denta chattered while he struggled to remove the ninth net they had encountered since leaving their campsite at dawn. Beside him First Aid mumbled a somber oath as the net shifted underneath the waves and struck a burning line along his arm. They were all bedecked with the long angry welts that puckered their plating.
On the shore Sunstreaker watched over them from the land while Hot Spot hovered overhead searching for dangers from the sea. Sideswipe worked on a second net behind them while Streetwise and Blades struggled further down.
"I don't want to know what that is." Aid finally gagged, looking down at the nearly translucent frame shifting feebly with the tide as the waters played the grayed plating in a macabre dance in death. Below them, swirling in the crimson depths the small figure swayed with the tide. Hollow optic sockets stared out into the murky world and the mechlings could only move their hands faster in a desperate attempt to get away from the lifeless frame.
"Me neither." Groove swallowed tightly unwilling to retch in the waters and have to stand in his own vomit once again. They had all experienced that when they started hours ago, when Ratchet had deftly shown them how to remove the netting and raced off to convince the sirens and merfolk not to eat them. Right now, they all were wishing they had left with their guardian instead of trying to save dead things that were beyond help.
"When is it Hot Spots turn?" Aid whined.
"When his wings get tired." Grove replied with the infinite patience of an older sibling.
"But my arms are tired!" Aid cried, "And our arms are our wings."
Groove could only nod, they had figured that out swiftly as well when Aid had started in the air, the others toiling in the water. When his wings had gotten too tired to stay aloft any longer he had landed only to be sent out to sea.
"I bet being a gryphon is easier." Groove pointed out. "Then we'd have two sets of arms."
"No they don't," Aid replied in confusion looking from Sunstreaker to Sideswipe.
"Not arms arms, I mean they have arms and wings."
"Oh, yeah!" Aid looked from Sunstreaker to Sideswipe once again, "But why do they look so tired?"
"Uncle Ratch called them idiots for staying up all night."
"Oh, that was dumb." Aid agreed with a satisfied sigh when the final bindings anchoring the net out at sea broke severing their connection to the shore. Together they struggled towards the shore away from the swiftly deteriorating net that turned into little more than wisps of light and ether and the lonely grayed frame sinking in lonely silence into the deep.
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