Wings of Love Chapter 8
Title: Wings of Love
Fandom: Transformers AU
Author: ledishae and deathmustang
Pairing/Charachters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Ratchet, First Aid
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 in the wrong place at just the right time brings three would be enemies together against a common foe.
Warnings: Emotional turmoil, cub-con, sticky
Word Count: 7298
Disclaimer: All Transformers characters belong to their respective owners, I'm just having a little fun.
A/N: Transformers AU, fantasy, all frames based on G1 designs. Thanks to Death Mustang for prompting the idea!
Warnings: Descriptions of physical romance, dub-con, and angst.
Ratchet soared through the brisk morning air, enjoying the heady fragrance of the sea slowly warming with the rising sun. He always loved the sea, it was lonely and melancholy as it eternally wove its way to shore and out again. Nothing stood to welcome the seas, and any that had, had long since worn away with the tide.
Looking over his shoulder Ratchet caught a faint, glimmering speck of white shimmering in the sun and smiled wanly. First Aid was in the sky watching over the others who toiled in the sea. Guilt gnawed at Ratchet, he knew what the younglings would find. He knew the nets held only death and only a miracle would ensure any survived their encounter. Yet, vorns ago, he had been trapped in one of those very nets…
Ratchet staggered along the shoreline, stumbling in exhaustion as he looked for shelter praying for something, anything that would let him rest. He was so tired. He moved in a haze, optics bleary from lack of recharge, tanks groaning uncomfortably from going too long without food. Nightmares kept him awake constantly on the edge of slipping into recharge, made him tremble in the isolated darkness of night expecting Tracks to return at any second.
The memory of the mech's talons holding him down, forcing Ratchet to accept the older mechs' spike still tore through the young healer apprentice. He remembered the agony of Tracks' assault, still bore the scars along his aft and thighs from powerful talons that made him submit. Now, now everything was so much worse.
Ratchet looked down groggily at his shadow, taking in the silhouette that looked so much like Wheeljack's. The shoulders were broad, the waist thick, and the once broad hips now slim and narrow. The shadow before him bore the frame of a mech, but for Ratchet it was a sentence to carry the sparkling of his attacker. The sea called, seemed to summon him to its depths, promising dark oblivion and succor from the constant exhausted anguish.
Weak, weary, starving and desperate Ratchet walked into the rolling tide, pushed past the early waves and stumbled over something. He fell, taking in the sight of a youngling scrabbling within a net that glowed with an eerie bluish-green light. Driven by an instinct he could not describe Ratchet pulled his exhausted frame through the surrounding waters, and cut the small creature from the netting.
Once free the bindings fell away from the silvery-purple frame revealing a manticore kitten bearing the face of a beautiful femme-ling. She was beautiful and in that one second of clarity Ratchet realized through his exhaustion that he was too tired to swim. With the last of his strength he shoved the femmeling towards the surface and felt dark oblivion claim him.
"Ratchet," A sonorous voice called Ratchet from his memories startling him into landing roughly in the soft, black sand. "Once more you come to me sparked." The figure seemed to fade in from the brilliant sunlight darkening like a wraith solidifying into a living being.
"Yeah," Ratchet sighed, shifting from harpy to mech before the other, "How is she?" He looked towards the ocean and the lonely rock partially exposed in the low tide where he had nearly met his end those vorns ago.
"My eldest is well, she misses you." The other turned his blue frame towards a low cliff riddled with wind and sea scoured caves. They headed for an unimpressive shallow hollow. The purple mech leading them through a narrow back switched tunnel that opened up into a massive open cavern cluttered with netting and trinkets. One wall curved inwards making a storage nook holding a larder of stored energon, another across the massive open main cave held many scattered toys and several beds nestled against the far wall. The place was homey, filled with the energy of happy younglings and family. "My other younglings miss you as well."
"I miss them too," Ratchet replied, smiling wanly at the comforting home he had wandered into, remembering his first time waking up here after his host had rescued him from the sea…
Consciousness came to him slowly, he only cared that he was warm, comfortable and his tanks felt contentedly full. It was bliss. Ratchet smiled slightly, burrowing into his covers, inhaling the scent his creator always imbued the blankets with - he was not at home!
Ratchet flung himself from the comfortable berth, staring uncomprehendingly at the strange, round nest-bed he had slept in, blinked stupidly at the tiny, grayish manticore that hid behind the bed from his sudden movement.
"Ravage." An emotionless voice intoned, startling Ratchet further, only to stare in horror and confusion.
"Listen, Soundwave, I don't remember if I ever thanked you -"
Soundwave held his hand up silencing Ratchet, a single optic shining from behind the elaborate mask he wore shining fondly at the harpy. "You saved Ravage from the katharó, allowed me to nurse you and convince you that bearing a spark would not end your existence. It is I who has never properly thanked you."
Ratchet smiled at the siren, despite his monotone voice Ratchet knew Soundwave cared dearly for younglings, "I brought him, this time. First Aid is back there, in the open lands removing ghost nets from the sea with his half brothers." He shifted, slowly realizing that a new tension had developed between them, one he was swiftly recognizing as the attraction he felt towards the twins. Only the twins were not here. Ratchet swallowed tightly forcing away the memories of nights spent in this cave each rotation surrounded by the siren's mixed breed young. In hind sight Ratchet could see the other's desire burning in the lone, visible yellow optic.
"I - I can't accept the thanks you want to give." Ratchet breathed, only now after tasting the courting the gryphons were swiftly winning his spark over with could he recognize the silent devotion Soundwave had offered him each time Ratchet showed up on the shore. "I am with someone, this spark's creators."
"You have taken mates?" The melodic voice asked somberly, dropping an octave into a rich baritone suddenly devoid of any hint emotion as he lifted his mask to reveal his full face perfect and unblemished in any way. The yellow optics bared from the sheltering mask deepened to fill with a dark emotion Ratchet could not place.
"No - well - not exactly?" Ratchet scrubbed his face with his hand and sighed as he lowered himself onto a low bench. "They caught me during heat, flew me down and caused this." He tapped the plating over his spark for emphasis. "Then they came back." Ratchet sighed once more, head bowed and his arms resting heavily on his knees before he looked back up at Soundwave with fingers laced, "They're courting me."
"You finally found harpies willing to take you?" Soundwave's voice hitched as if catching a sob, "I am happy for you."
"They're not harpies, 'Wave. They're twin gryphon mechs." Ratchet looked back to the ground missing the calculating gleam that filled Soundwave's optics before the siren mech schooled his features once more into a potent mix of desire and misery.
"This," Soundwave spoke softly as he set his mask aside on a nearby table, "Is not thanks. This," Soundwave smiled salaciously as he approached optics bright with a rumbling murmur bordering on a song, "Is my lullaby…"
Ratchet panted and thrust deeper into the welcoming heat. Gasping, he knew only pleasure, his hands running over the frame below him eliciting moans that changed the murky haze dulling his processors to anything beyond this haven of desire. Slowly the sound he had not noticed faded, leaving only the writhing, pleading, panting of his berth-mate to echo in his audios. Optics shuttering in ecstasy Ratchet thrust faster, harder, taking his pleasure as the other shrieked - his? her? - pleasured cries.
White hot lust and desire threaded up his back struts forcing Ratchet to shudder as release came unexpectedly. Ratchet wailed as he loosed his lust deep within his partner. Panting, trembling he collapsed over his unknown lover. Spent and exhausted Ratchet wondered how long he had been with his unknown lover. Slowly the dark haze over his processors began to clear and the last vivid memory before this seductive darkness came back to him making him snap his helm up to look at his lover's face, and freeze. "Soundwave!" Fury warred with confusion as he hastily pulled his spent member out of Soundwave's still trembling frame, and backed away from the siren. "What the slag?"
"Good question." A dual tone rumbled echoed through the cave, resonating as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe strode furiously towards Ratchet where he stood still exposed next to Soundwave sprawled lewdly across the berth displaying his used valve for all to see.
"Sunstreaker? Sideswipe? My younglings?" Ratchet asked disjointedly looking askance from Soundwave to the twins and back fearful of what happened to his brood.
"They're resting," Sunstreaker growled dangerously, "Along with three little heathens claiming this one as their carrier." Sideswipe finished the statement grounding out the words, slowly peeling Soundwave's plating with the fury in his optics.
"So this is where you have been," Sunstreaker snarled, lips trembling in fury, "All day while we oh so dutifully watched your little harpies."
"All day?" Ratchet asked, shame forcing his interface panel to seal once more as he scrubbed his hand over his face. "I came here to ask for your permission to cross siren lands without being accosted by your people! They've been courting me, doing everything right and now -" Ratchet bunched his hands into furiously trembling fists, "What the slag is wrong with you?" Fury mingled with betrayal in Ratchet's optics as he stared down Soundwave. The siren only closed in interface panel with a contented smirk as he gracefully stood and donned his mask.
"Objective, accomplished." Soundwave intoned flatly, his lone shining optic gleaming with accomplished pride over the three other mechs in his cave. "A youngling with Ratchet is assured."
"You sang me into, into - fragging you so you could have a harpy hybrid?" Ratchet demanded feeling the old, familiar despair of being used trail up his lines. He had finally gotten past Tracks' memory, gotten over his despair and self-loathing following the older harpy's attack on him years ago with the Twins' devotion and caring. Now, Ratchet felt a new set of hate and shame filling his spark, but this time he had no qualms about attacking the one that caused this.
"Harpies raise their own younglings, take great pains to take on those of others, surely you would not abandon one of your own coding line?" Soundwave asked cajolingly and Ratchet felt himself trapped.
"You don't even know if you're sparked!" Ratchet roared turning on the siren, praying for a reason to tear the other's carrying camber out through his intakes.
"Incorrect assumption." Soundwave leered proudly, "Each visit you have taken damage while in the sea. Each attack granted me parts of your frame. I have consumed you, Ratchet and any I consume and interface with yields viable offspring."
Sunstreaker watched the exchange between the harpy and the siren with increasingly sickening dread, Rathet was livid. This was not of his doing and Sunstreaker knew the siren wanted something else.
-:- Wait, this means that Ratchet is both a carrier and a creator? -:- Sideswipe sent over their bond including deviant images of what they could do with Ratchet when he had carried the spark in his chest too close to term and normal interfacing would no longer be an option. The images made Sunstreaker's mouth water and interface array tremble at the thought. Then another, worse idea rose in his own processors. The siren and harpy had been hot together, Ratchet taking the larger Soundwave, but how much more delicious would it be to be taking Ratchet as he took the siren? Beside him Sideswipe trembled at the thought and both quickly forced the hungry wolf stares from their faces as they took in the escalating verbal battle between the smaller fliers.
"Viable offspring!" Ratchet demanded aghast, "You admit to being the unknown creature beneath the waves that has clawed and bit me each year for the last six just so you could eat me enough over time to carry my sparkling? Good-bye Soundwave." Ratchet turned nearly fleeing from the cave as several forms raced in from the outside bowling him over.
::Hunters!:: The small manticore shrieked wordlessly, her voice piercing each of their helms as she cried. ::Soundwave, they're here.::
"We leave," Soundwave bellowed shifting his voice into a thrumming purr that sent mindless terror through the others forcing them to follow the blue siren as he fled his cave and descended into a dark tunnel underground. They ran as his resonating song continued to enthrall them forcing them to flee regardless of exhaustion.
They ran, optics blind to the reaching roots that stuck through the walls and ceiling of the ancient tunnel. Their pedes moved without their input following as Soundwave pushed his beguiling voice to its limit controlling the eleven figures that raced in his wake. Throat parched and rough with too many hours of singing his mind-ensnaring song, Soundwave staggered, pushing himself and his companions until they reached the far distant opposite end of their tunnel. There, with the night dark sky just beyond the ragged mouth leading into the chirring chorus of night birds and insects they faced the jungle on the far side of the sirens' lands and there, in that last smooth spot before the tunnel exit Soundwave's final vestiges of strength left him.
"Rest." Soundwave ordered and let the song go. Immediately he collapsed, gasping as the long run while singing the others into following caught up to him, sending him into deep, strut-less, unknowing recharge.
"What - the - Pit?" Ratchet looked around at the strange place he found himself in as he gasped exhaustedly, the run was a blur. From the moment he was bowled over by a tidal wave of younglings until now, it was all a disjointed dream.
"Carrier?" First Aid asked as he panted optics bright with fear and confusion. Ratchet huddled close to his younglings, holding them tight.
"Are any of you hurt?" the harpy mech asked worriedly, finding himself looking over all the younglings in turn until all sat huddled together, unharmed.
Ratchet looked to the gryphons, worry blossoming anew as the pair lounged in their gryphon forms beaks wide open and panting. Their heads shook occasionally while their optics remained unfocused. Ratchet watched them with intense optics, hesitating as a waft of spent transfluid from his filthy frame reached his nostrils. He had trysted with Soundwave. The thought left a bitter taste in the back of his throat, but he still had promised the pair that he would let them try to win him. Now, he feared they would leave.
Ratchet looked down helplessly at Groove and Streetwise curled in exhausted slumber in his lap. He had thought, yesterday, when they had arrived on the beach, that he could finally start loving the pair. Now, he was not sure they would want him anymore.
Slowly Sunstreaker and Sideswipe regained their breath, and let the last lingering effects of being bespelled left their frames. Once they could think clearly they looked to Ratchet. The harpy looked miserable, sitting with his young ones so close, almost as miserable as he had looked only yesterday when he realized he was carrying and the spark might not reach full term.
Ratchet looked up, his blue optics dark with unfathomable emotions. The twins felt their intakes still at his desperate face and knew they still loved him. "What happened out there, on the beach?" Ratchet asked softly, his optics never meeting theirs. The pair curled together in the tunnel Sunstreaker taking up weary guard position from the direction they had come and Sideswipe filling the tunnel exit with his bulk. They were quiet and pensive before finally relating the day's events.
They panted; their arms and legs trembling from toiling in the ocean until the sun was high. Sunstreaker watched Ratchet's younglings toil from the beach, nervous worry beginning to fill his lines. Ratchet should have been back, he should have been the one to wade out and haul Blades in when the youngling refused to admit exhaustion until he collapsed into the sea. It should have been Ratchet to dive beneath the waves and haul the most stubborn of the younglings to shore.
"Something's wrong." Sideswipe spoke Sunstreaker's thoughts. They both knew something had happened to Ratchet and the growing terror in their lines spoke of the harpy's death by the voracious sirens. Worried, tired and knowing the younglings were beyond exhausted Sunstreaker and Sideswipe gathered the four youngest into their arms and herded the weary Hot Spot between them as they trudged the massive distance between their location and the faint, barely visible pede-prints of two mechs heading to the distant cliff face.
"I can't," Sideswipe gasped, shaking his head. He was done, strut weary from carrying the two younglings in his arms after standing guard all night and removing nets from the sea. Together the twins hauled their lover's younglings further ashore, depositing the four sleeping harpies on a pile of spongy, dried sea kelp and guided Hot Spot down to rest beside them.
Then they collapsed. Flat on their backs, panting and exhausted Sunstreaker could only strive to get the air in his intakes. Slowly they got their vents back, slowly the exhaustion blackening their vision faded and they were left with only the blisteringly bright sky overhead and cold fear in their sparks. They stilled in unison taking in the high scudding clouds, the calls of the sea and the lonely wails of the winds across the time whittled cliff face. The keening cries of the cliffs sounded like impassioned lovers, the thought brought a weary smile to their faces. If they had Ratchet here everything would be perfect. Ratchet.
They sat up, forcing still weary and trembling limbs to accept them only to freeze midway between sitting and standing at a strange trio of monstrosities crouched behind the unconscious younglings. Leading the nightmarish beasts was a femme-faced manticore lounging contentedly on a nearby kelp mat. Beside her a bat-winged djinn hunched and a third creature crouched between them, a serpent tailed, bird winged fully hooded creature that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had prayed to never see. It was a cockatrice.
::You are trespassing, common mechs.:: The manticore hissed mutely in a creepily benign little femme-ling voice, yet the malice within her optics promised a painful retribution if she was not heeded.
Sunstreaker shifted from his common form, spreading his wings and snapping his beak that was fully the size of the little femme's helm, "We are not common mechs." His glare made her flinch and suddenly Sideswipe realized they were looking at younglings no older than Streetwise.
"Who is your carrier?" Sideswipe asked gruffly, hoping this was the right approach to the misborn trio.
"Soundwave, guardian of the sands." The little cockatrice hissed sibilantly, "And he has no love for gryphons." The howling winds from the cliffs made his voice all the more disturbing, the imagery of lovers impassioned had long since faded since meeting the misborn younglings. Now, the sound seemed more like the wail of a distraught carrier finding her hard brought youngling was a monster.
"But we have heard so much about him." Sideswipe grinned with mock bravado he in no way felt. He was too tired to be dealing with lethal upstarts, "He did rescue Ratchet, and these are his younglings."Sideswipe gestured to the five sleeping harpies curled in a small pile between Sunstreaker and him.
The three hybrids paused, tense and still as they scrutinized the gryphons, "What are your names?" the little djinn demanded.
Sideswipe filled them in on their purpose and who they were, "Besides, doesn't our removing the nets grant us some consideration from your carrier?"
"Fine, we will take you to our carrier when he returns." Ravage replied, signaling her brothers, the cockatrice, Sundor, and the djinn, Ratbat, to lie down only to freeze with wide optics staring into the distance when they all heard the distant shouts. They looked back towards the shifting sands the gryphons had come from spotting the plethora of dark figures scouring the sand. The hunters had come.
"Everybody up!" Sunstreaker barked, forcing Ratchet's brood roughly awake, urging the younglings on before him as they raced across the heat shimmering sands to the distant cliffs. Then realized it was not the wind making the desperate keening cries. The tunnel they entered had the heady aroma of interface while cries that had become etched into his processors echoed down the narrow passage.
"Stay here," Sunstreaker and Sideswipe slipped into the caves recognizing the scent of interface and the sounds of gasped pleasure and knew that Ratchet was not the innocent, faithful creature he would make himself out to be.
Sideswipe looked to his taloned foreclaws then up at Ratchet. They had been wrong in their assumptions on what had gone on in the cave, and now Ratchet knew it. "So what do we do now?"
"Pfft, that's easy!" First Aid giggled blearily, nearly drunk from the day's work and terrified race for safety, "Carrier has a harem!" The last was spoken in a sing-song voice as Aid slipped back into recharge.
Ratchet started looking between the two gryphons to the lone slumbering siren and then to the many younglings between them. Eight, there were eight younglings. Two younglings per adult, it was nothing any good harem couldn't handle. The thought was staggering. How in the name of the Sisters had they managed this? He looked to the piled younglings surrounding the siren then back to his suitors and First Aid.
"Harem?" Sideswipe instantly brightened, "Ratchet, he's right! We can be your three; you can grab your territory it's everything you wanted."
Ratchet sighed, "Harems are made of femmes." Sideswipe instantly deflated at Ratchet's argument, optics downcast as the small glimmering hope of finally hearing Ratchet agree to be their mate dimmed to nearly nothing.
"That's ridiculous." Sunstreaker snarled optics flashing as his brother hunched in defeat. "Show me this writ of yours and where it says, exactly, that a harem is made of of one mech and his femmes."
"It doesn't," Streetwise yawned glaring at the noisy adults. "The writ states, 'A harem shall be initiated by the three.' There's nothing that says it has to be femmes, mechs or both, besides Uncle Jack has only two femmes." Streetwise rolled over and fell back asleep.
"Please?" Sideswipe grinned winningly, optics shinning once more with hope. "We can keep the siren long enough to win a territory, then if it doesn't work out -" He flicked a talon absently as if discarding an insect from his frame.
"Oh, no," Ratchet forced himself to stand within the narrow confines of the tunnel entrance leading to the opposite side of the shore and the path he would take leading back to the forest - he shuddered - and his carrier. "I am not taking on a conniving, thought controlling, mech-using siren just to claim a strip of land we will have no use for when we're dead and inside his tanks!"
Ratchet shifted to his harpy form fleeing the tunnel and taking to the skies, searching for a tree massive enough to hold his little family. Gliding noiselessly in the evening dusk he finally found a massive bole more than big enough for six harpies. Remembering the location he headed back to the tunnel to claim his young.
Only they were gone. Intakes hitching Ratchet froze as all his young and the two gryphons had vanished. In the dark confines of the tunnel only Soundwave's exhausted form remained surrounded by his softly keening younglings staring hopefully at Ratchet with desperate optics.
"They followed you," Ratbat whispered brokenly, his massive crimson optics looked pleadingly up at Ratchet with that spark wrenching adorableness all young things possessed in droves. "Just, don't leave us - without saying g-goodbye." His vocals hitched, a lone tear trailing down his desperate, bat-like face.
Ratchet huffed as his spark nearly physically lurched in his chest at the younglings' tears. Did this count as blackmail? He knelt by the kitten he had rescued after First Aid had been sparked and drew her and Ratbat into his arms, holding them close. Ravage's little face pressed into his chest, her tiny frame trembled with her desperate purring as silent tears streaked his chest plating. Her tiny paws gently kneaded his shoulder, delicate claws rasping softly against the smooth plating.
Around them Sundor huddled closer, his own grief at being left behind joining keening from his siblings' small frames. "Ravage, Primus, love you and your brothers because your carrier does not deserve to have me keep his sorry chassis in one piece!"
::What did Soundwave do?:: Ravage asked with a hiccup.
"He sang me into doing something I did not want." Ratchet snarled softly as he glared at the slumbering siren.
"We asked him to." Sundor approached cautiously, his claw tipped wings reaching along the ground like hands feeling where he walked before nuzzling his hooded helm against Ratchet's side. "We wanted to keep you as our creator, since we don't have any." The young cockatrice shrugged his wings desperately turning his hooded helm directly at Ratchet, beseeching with winged caresses to the other's arm.
"Please?" Ratbat asked hesitantly, "The sirens have left the shores, leaving the mainland for the distant isles. They rejected us, the three of us, as we are not pure. It was good to have us as watchdogs while on the big mainland, but they don't want monsters on the home isle. We need you, so that we can stay."
Ratchet rolled his optics and sighed exasperatedly at the plaintive bitterness the youngling held in his voice, "Your carrier is more trouble than he's worth." Then glared hard at each of them in turn, "None of you are monsters, remember that, you are hybrids and your carrier loves all of you."
'And so do I.' Ratchet kept his vocals mute on that thought not wanting to give the young ones false hope but unable to abandon mere younglings either. "Now, come on, I know you three inherited his ability to fly. I can't carry him and you lot as well." With a final huff Ratchet launched himself into the air latching his talons into Soundwave's frame before slowly flying to the distant tree bole, and hopefully, his younglings.
"Ratchet!" Sunstreaker pulled the harpy close as Soundwave was deposited within their bole. "Never disappear like that!" Ratchet panting from the exhausting flight looked up with startled optics at Sunstreaker.
"I didn't disappear, you vanished with my younglings." Ratchet groused too tired to actually argue with the gryphon as his intakes heaved to regain his breath. His optics tracked to the side automatically seeking his younglings, and marginally relaxing when he spotted the eight youngsters cuddled close together with wide optics as they stared at Soundwave nervously.
"I thought you didn't want him?" Sideswipe asked lowly, sulking in the back of the bole. He lay curled in a massive ball of misery, his powerful beak resting wearily upon a foreleg. Optics dark and uncertain filled with despair and bitterness he refused to look at Ratchet.
The harpy sighed, somewhat grateful that Sunstreaker still held him as he soaked up the larger mech's warmth. "I - I couldn't leave the younglings, Sisters take me, but I couldn't. They've been abandoned by their own people, forsaken for being hybrids. According to them it was their idea for Soundwave to try to win my affections, so I would become the creator none of them ever had."
"So, keep the brats and kill off the siren." Sideswipe spat, ignoring the shivering mass of terror Soundwave's younglings had become with his words. He failed to notice Ratchet's brood huddle closer to the new trio, holding them close and protecting them with their own small wings.
"Kill him?" Hot Spot demanded, speaking up for Ratchet as he stood between the gryphon and his brothers, "Is that how gryphons think? Kill anything that makes life difficult? You sounded happy enough to force Uncle Ratch to take Soundwave as a mate when it meant you could finally have my uncle. Now he's out of your reach again so it's fine to just kill Soundwave?
"Maybe we don't want you to court our uncle." Hot Spot strode to stand between Sideswipe and Ratchet, his brothers cuddled with Soundwave's younglings glaring at the red gryphon with distrusting optics.
"Enough." Ratchet sighed and pulled out for Sunstreaker's embrace. "It was nice," he looked up at Sunstreaker with saddened optics and miserably forced a smile, "To finally be wanted. You two let me feel loved, and for that I'm grateful. But, I can't do this to either of you anymore. You two deserve to be happy, and obviously I can't be the mech you want."
Ratchet swallowed bitterly, forcing a brave smile that failed to reach his optics at the gryphon pair he had allowed himself to fall in love with. "I will return to my carrier, with First Aid and his brothers. I'll help Soundwave find a safe residence on the outskirts of the harpy lands with his younglings and you two," Ratcht swallowed tightly taking a deep shuddering breath, "You two can finally be free to court someone who is able to love only you." With his words Ratchet launched himself from their haven into the night, vanishing into the darkness with a ringing keen of grief.
Sideswipe blinked owlishly at the empty space where Ratchet had just stood feeling poleaxed and stunned. "What just happened?"
Hot Spot slumped beside his brothers, pulling First Aid into a miserable hug. "We made Ratchet miserable."
Sunstreaker shook his head and headed for the exit intent on finding Ratchet. "Wait." A rasping voice stilled him. Looking over his shoulder Sunstreaker focused one gleaming optic on the barely awake Soundwave.
"Wait," the siren repeated weakly, "Let him have time to think."
"Why? So he can get captured by hunters?" Sunstreaker snarled intent on finding the mech he had felt so close to barely a day ago, the mech who had smiled with willing optics until the siren had reared up into their lives.
"No," Soundwave sighed and wearily levered himself to sit up better. "This was my last attempt to win Ratchet. I have courted him for six vorns, yet he never noticed me. Then he came with you two and he finally realized what I have been offering. I have waited for him for so long, and I cannot go on alone any longer. I love him, just like you two do." His voice was flat, emotionless and deep. The flat tone belied the desperate emotions simmering within his one visible optic. "The Sisters' Writ does not make exception to a harem being made of mechs or femmes. This I have read. We can win him, and make him happy."
"And how do you plan on doing that?" Sideswipe spat, finally rising as he stalked to his brother's side.
"Stop acting like a bunch of selfish afts?" Hot Spot suggested with a glare at the adults, ignoring the growing pile of smaller younglings that had accumulated in his lap and around him as his siblings and Soundwave's brood snuggled together in recharge.
"That would be a start." Soundwave agreed somberly. "I have done something I cannot undo," he rested his hand over his own carrying chamber in his chest, "but I would do so again if it meant carrying something of Ratchet within me."
Hot Spot glared hard at Soundwave, "You forced Uncle Ratch to mate with you?" He moved to slip out from under his brothers, only to balk at their combined mass pinning him to the ground as he quivered in rage at the still prone siren. "You knew what Tracks did to him!"
With the youngster's voice ringing through the bole Soundwave's spark fell within his chest. "I knew," he nodded weakly, then looked over to the mechling, "My song did not make him do anything he did not want to. It only made him more willing to give in to his spark."
Hot Spot spluttered, optics bright with rage. "Stay away from Uncle Ratch." He crossed his arms over his chest and stared into a corner away from the siren and the gryphons.
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe glanced at each other, their bond teeming with a swift, heated argument. They had pursued Ratchet for weeks, thought they had him and lost him time and again. They had fallen for his younglings, wanting to be there for the little ones and watch them grow. Now, there was a chance that they could finally have a safe place to raise this crazy, mixed up brood, but it hinged on keeping Soundwave.
"You didn't force him?" Sunstreaker asked darkly, more than willing to rip the siren apart if he felt Ratchet had been taken advantage of.
"No," Soundwave sighed, tugging his mask off and rubbing his face tiredly. The twins stared in shock at the siren. They had been too enraged to take in the other's visage in the tunnels, but here, safe from the hunters they could admit the siren was a very handsome mech.
'No wonder Ratchet fell for him,' Sideswipe sent a mental smirk at his brother, their minds simultaneously revamping their lusty imaginings of Ratchet and Soundwave together. It was hard not to get excited about the image and only the small multitude of little optics staring at them kept the pair from grinning lasviously.
"So, what's the plan?" Sideswipe asked, startling Soundwave out of his silent misery.
"Plan?" Soundwave looked from one gryphon to the other, startled to realize they were serious about wooing Ratchet together. "First, keep Ratchet from leaving us."
"Not a problem," Sunstreaker replied calmly, smothering the rage and insecurity he felt deep inside. "We swore we would be Ratchet's guards during his carrying term, we will not go back on our word. He has no way of protecting his younglings or his new spark when he is further along. Carrying, especially traveling with so many hunters around, will make him an easy target."
"What will you do?" They asked in wary unison, watching the siren with jaded optics.
Instead of answering Soundwave looked to the huddled pile of younglings, focusing on Streetwise, "You know this writ?" The youngling nodded somberly, but stayed silent. "Despite my actions I do love your uncle, I cannot undo what I have done, but I will do anything to make it better."
Streetwise shifted, not quite understanding what had happened between the adults but knowing that Uncle Ratch was very sad. Instead of answering he looked to his once more alert brothers, taking in their scared faces.
"When Tracks did something stupid he brought gifts to our carriers, normally small things that meant a lot to them." Blades offered tentatively. The most aggressive of the young harpies had always felt out of place with his own kind, but Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had let him feel in control as he learned to hunt and fight. He didn't want to lose his new 'uncles' who made feel like he finally belonged.
Sunstreaker looked Blades over thoughtfully, the youngling had grown on him. Blades, despite being a very small harpy was more like a gryphlet. He bounded with energy, loved to fight, and took any knocks he received with the rough and tumble enthusiasm that would make any gryphon proud.
With startling realization Sunstreaker felt his spark twist with the thought of leaving Blades. The golden gryphon had come to think of the little hellion as his own, and wanted to watch the youngling grow. Intrigued, Sunstreaker leaned closer to his favorite youngling, "What kind of gifts?"
"Blades!" First Aid warned, echoing Hot Spot's vehement desire to not want the gryphons to worm their way into his uncle's spark any further.
Standing, scrabbling away from his brothers Blades resolutely stared them down as he stood leaning against Sunstreaker's massive feathered shoulder. "Hot Spot always fit in Tracks' harem. You always belong everywhere like the perfect hatchling. You're carrier wanted you!" Blades glared at his brothers with rebellious optics, "All of you!" The last was shrieked as the deep rooted pain wormed out of Blades' narrow chest. "You don't know what it's like to wonder when you'll be kicked out because you're too rough, not smart enough, not good enough! None of you have ever been called 'nothing'!"
Streetwise reeled back, optics wide. He, Hot Spot and Blades had often fought, the younger having grievances that never seemed to fade. Spots never seemed knew what to do, wishing Tracks would step up and do something. Now it seemed their sire already had - and it wasn't what any of them had hoped for.
"Blades," Sunstreaker gently buffeted the wailing harpy with lightly fisted talons. He knocked the little red and white mechling over sending him sprawling into a jumbled pile of feathers. "You don't yell at your brothers."
"In Tracks' harem all the femmes have a pecking order. Harems have hierarchy. There is the first femme, she's the one who is most by the mech-harpy's side, like his guard. Then the others take supporting roles helping to raise the younglings and fighting to maintain their territory." Streetwise shrugged helplessly with confused optics as he hugged Blades close, "But I don't know how mechs are supposed to behave."
Sunstreaker let his processor mull the youngling's words over, an image forming that almost made him smile. Soundwave keeping a massive tree bole home for them, while the twin gryphons protected their territory and kept an optic on Ratchet as he worked in a clinic on the edge of their territory safely away from their home. It was quaint and calm, and beside him Sideswipe snickered as his processor shoved an image of the four of them engaged in night time activities in a sound shielded room so the younglings wouldn't hear.
"Fine," Sideswipe smirked at the siren, "You mind the harem nest, we protect Ratchet and the territory."
"Acceptable." Soundwave nodded, "All younglings are trained by us equally and have equal rights in the harem."
"Sorry, not happening." Sideswipe countered, "Hot Spot is the eldest, he is the head youngling until his majority. Then Ravage, until she's old enough to leave as well. Until then your younglings listen to Hot Spot."
Soundwave glared at the gryphons, lone visible optic darkening in rage as he took offense to their words.
"Oh, no, I am not head of the younglings!" Hot Spot broke in, "I'll help my brothers, Ravage helps her sibs and we'll split duties - wait. When did you three stop hating each other?" Spots looked from the siren to the gryphons in confusion, optics blinking rapidly. Around him his brothers and Soundwave's brood shared his consternation.
"We love your uncle, and he wants a home. So, if we deal with each other Ratchet has his three and can get his territory." Sideswipe sighed resignedly and looked to Soundwave with distaste. "Sort of a win-win."
"Sort of," Sunstreaker snorted unhappily. His naughty visions of he and his brother taking Ratchet while Rtachet took Soundwave had fizzeled in the face of reality, leaving him charged from walking in on Ratchet and Soundwave with no release. He shivered, thoughts of their single tryst with Ratchet a mere eleven days ago had seemed like a vorn. Interface plating tingling with desire he suppressed a shudder and forced his processors to stop thinking of Soundwave's sleek, desirable frame.
Hot Spot looked down to his siblings, now all slumbering around him interspersed with Ravage and her brothers. Despite just meeting them Hot Spot already liked Soundwave's younglings, enjoying having a femme around. Ravage was wise and feral, beautiful and canny. She was everything Hot Spot had ever wanted in a sister. Deep in his spark he wished Ratchet would take the siren as a third mate, desperately needing a stable home after their journeys.
"Sideswipe?" Hotspot looked up to the red gryphon he had hoped to call creator, "Can you help me here?" He gestured to the pile of harpies in his lap with pleading optics. Sideswipe smiled wanly, his usual happiness absent as he gently lifted slumbering younglings from Spot's frame.
Once free of his siblings Hot Spot placed his hand on the red gryphon's massive shoulder. "Thanks, I'm going to go find Uncle Ratch, and Uncle Swipe? I hope you win him, all three of you. I - I'm afraid of Aid's grand-carrier." Head down shyly Hot Spot raced from the stunned gryphons not wanting to see their faces and fled into the darkness seeking Ratchet.
"Primus take it," Sideswipe grumbled, "I like these younglings." He huffed and curled up close to the jumbled pile of younglings, an unconscious smile blooming across his features as Groove rolled over in his sleep, pressing his small face into Sideswipe's side with a soft snore.
Sunstreaker melted at the sight, and sighed, head down. "I don't think I could leave them. Not anymore." He looked to his brother with helpless optics and knew they had already sealed their fates.
"Younglings have that knack." Soundwave breathed tiredly, losing the battle to once more fall into desperately needed recharge. He dropped his mask beside him with a long, weary sigh. "Once they get into your spark they'll never let … go …"
Sunstreaker huffed as he looked the siren over. Yes, he was a fantastic looking creature. Dark blue with yellow primary feathers just a shade darker than his optics and, his face regardless if he was in common or siren form was always the same, that matte black plating that rivaled carved ebony sculpted his exquisite features.
"I think I like him too." Sideswipe mumbled unhappily. They were fighting a losing battle against their emotion protocols. They cared for the young harpies as if they were their own, they loved Ratchet, and knew Ratchet loved the siren. Despite not having any real desire for the blue mech the twins knew their beloved harpy was not capable of limiting his spark to loving only two mechs. Harpies were wired differently, and just maybe, that was what they loved most about him.
"We're slagged." Sunstreaker agreed, letting his processors drift into a half slumber as he waited with new, infinite patience for Hot Spot and Ratchet to return.
"So, why's everyone afraid of Ratchet's carrier?" Sideswipe asked absently, allowing the question to fade into silence with Sunstreaker's first soft snore.
Chapter: 4: 5 : 6 : 7