Part 4b! I didn't split it up, the author just did it this way.
The penultimate chapter of "Primus' Gift", or rather the penultimate chapter of what we have. Now with bonus random OCs that nobody gives a damn about!
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part 4a
"Midnight? Who's Midnight?" Arcee asked as everyone else began to whisper.
Scourge: He’s an OC with a dramatic name, he must be important!
"Midnight is my brother." Ultra Magnus saw the looks on their faces but he didn't care.
Scourge: Neither do we.
Cyclonus: We’re going to be attacked by mirrorverse RiD Optimus Prime, oh dear.
He couldn't believe that this was happening. He had thought he was safe. For nearly five million years his personal hell had seemed to vanish.
Cyclonus: Is it just me or do these writers really like the term ‘personal hell’?
Galvatron: I’m hardly surprised, they’re good at creating them.
But now it had returned… and now his child was in danger.
Galvatron: Please, as if anything would happen to the babies. The author has no way to create dramatic tension, since we don’t care about the characters’ past pain and the present pain will be minimal at best to preserve familial bliss.
"Your… brother…." Hot Rod looked at him and then towards the safe room. His 'maternal instinct' was telling him to go be with his son, to protect him.
Galvatron: Ah, we finally have a term for the brainwashing that the babies perpetuate on surrounding mechs.
Cyclonus: It’s a clever process, I would love if we could get some of it for ourselves. But I don’t think it’s worth impregnating the Autobots with Decepticon spawn.
But when he looked back at his mate, he knew who needed him more.
Cyclonus: Non-baby priorities? The conditioning must be wearing off, take him to the reeducation chamber.
Optimus now spoke up. "About nine million years ago, Ultra Magnus, Alita One, myself and several of the older Autobots were created by Vector Sigma.
Galvatron: We didn’t ask for your biography, Prime.
Cyclonus: For Cybertron’s sake, the author isn’t even bothering with the cartoon at this point. It’s regular fiction with our names pasted on.
Scourge: Considering how popular those kinds of fics are, she may have picked a winning strategy.
Ultra Magnus and Midnight were created using the same basic structure and were called brothers.
Scourge: Incoming needless exposition!
Cyclonus: Wait a moment, we already have plenty of brothers, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker aren’t identical. This is just a bad excuse for a palette swap.
They had a mental link between them like that of the Gestalts, except it was much stronger."
Scourge: That’s not how brothers work. That’s how Reflector works.
"At times," the City Commander said. "We could even read each other's minds."
Cyclonus: Is this Magnus talking or the narration? Or is Magnus talking to the narration? And if so, can I send a few choice messages to the narration too?
"Why does he want to hurt the children?" Tracks asked.
Galvatron: A better question is “Why wouldn’t he want to hurt the children?”.
"Seven million years ago, the link was broken." Ultra Magnus' eyes dimmed as he recalled first feeling that his brother's presence was gone.
Scourge: And his immense feeling of joy at finally getting his brother to stop making rude psychic comments while he was having sex.
"He went mad, attacking and killing whoever got in his way. We managed to capture him, but he escaped.
Cyclonus: Don’t bother giving us the details or anything, that might actually be interesting.
Scourge: Rape is the only interesting violent act, obviously.
For centuries, he's been a plague.
Scourge: And you don’t even want to know how he’s transmitted. Let’s just say it involves wet celery and egg whisks.
He comes every few centuries to kill. It's been nearly five million years since he last showed up.
Scourge: …wait, what?
Cyclonus: Impressive. She manages to contradict her own plot in the span of a mere sentence. I would consider that a new record.
We had hoped he was dead."
There was silence as they all took this in.
Galvatron: Murderous killing machine threatening the very existence of the Autobots…on a Thursday? Who could imagine such a thing?
Finally Springer spoke.
"How will we recognize him? If he looks like Magnus…"
Cyclonus: Then find someone who looks like Ultra Magnus and kill him. Or at least lock him up, if you’re really too stupid to tell them apart.
"He is dark blue and gray. You can't miss him."
Scourge: Because our most defining feature are our color schemes, obviously. That’s why Sunstreaker is commonly mistaken for Bumblebee.
"Ultra Magnus has been fitted with a locator just in case," Prime said.
Galvatron: In case of what?
Scourge: Trying to flee the fic?
"As of now, no one may enter or leave Iacon;
Scourge: Hope someone brought a bag lunch for the Witwickies.
Galvatron: One mech. One. Mech. I don’t care if he’s Magnus shaped, either he can be easily stopped by the guards or he’s powerful enough to blast through their roadblock anyway.
the children are to be kept here in the Command Tower during the day and now we're at Red Alert."
Cyclonus: Yes, put the children in the place we most need to be secure should we come under attack. I’m sure they won’t accidentally fire any missiles at Moscow.
Scourge: *as Red Alert* How did you get into my room? You’ve all been turned against me, haven’t you? You want to reprogram me and use me as a breeding machine! I’m on to your plot!
Cyclonus: What little plot there is.
---
"So it looks like we won't be going anywhere for a while…" Thundercracker groused. "I don't like the idea of you being here."
Cyclonus: We don’t like the idea of being here either.
Galvatron: More bird Transformers. Anyone else feel like game for dinner?
He gently caressed First Aid's stomach. "I don't want that monster to get near you guys…"
Scourge: And now, seeing as First Aid’s stomach is now a separate entity, we’ve crossed fandoms with “Evil Con Carne”.
"As long as you're here," First Aid whispered softly. "I feel safe." He rolled over and reached up, pulling his lover down towards him and in a matter of moments, codpieces were off and their fears were forgotten as they made love…
Scourge: Times and places sex is not appropriate: during preparations for an impending enemy assault.
Cyclonus: That’s never stopped you.
Scourge: We had a five hour ETA and nothing was happening. And that’s another thing, all this is ‘making love’, some beautiful and passionate event that’s magical every time or some rot like that. Where’s the frantic supply closet sex? The casual handjobs before refueling time? Or, Vector Sigma forbid, the one night stands?
Cyclonus: You’re getting too into this, Scourge.
Scourge: I think it’s starting to get into me. Remind me to do a virus scan after we leave.
---
Deep inside of Cybertron, in Vector Sigma's chamber, a creature of the night slowly moved towards the awesome super computer.
Scourge: *putting on an Eastern European accent* He vants to suck your life force!
Cyclonus: Really. A single mech is able to infiltrate Autobot-controlled Cybertron during a lockdown and go to the heart of Vector Sigma’s chambers without being noticed. That seems completely plausible.
Galvatron: We should hire him, he seems to be more competent than everyone else in this fic.
His name was Midnight.
Scourge: Did we really need to be told that? There’s only one scary mech in the plot right now.
Galvatron: Did we care?
He calmly raised his weapon and fired.
Cyclonus: In a better fic this might actually lead to a need for pregnancy in the wake of the loss of the only other source of Transformer life. But I doubt it.
---
"Magnus!" Hot Rod shot up in bed panting. His body shook as he looked around. His lover sat up and stared at him. "Magnus…"
Scourge: Have you been putting clothes on me in my sleep again?
Cyclonus: Pick a scene and develop it! This fic jumps around more than Blurr on a ethanol high.
Galvatron: And it keeps confusing its dialogue tags. Now it looks like Ultra Magnus is a pokemon.
"What's wrong? Honey, what is it?" Magnus tried to calm him down. He managed to make out some of what Hot Rod was saying.
Scourge: Honey? We have ascended to new levels of bad.
Cyclonus: A congealed sticky substance made of regurgitated insect fluids, that sounds very romantic.
"Sigma…. Midnight…. Danger…"
Scourge: Maybe it’s an Autobot version of the NATO phonetic alphabet.
Cyclonus: Sierra Tango Foxtrot Uniform, Hot Rod.
Shit! He's trying to destroy Vector Sigma!
Cyclonus: …’shit’?
Scourge: Yes, it is.
Galvatron: Hot Rod is psychic now, intriguing. That really gives him no excuse for pretending he never got my calls.
He shot out of bed while Hot Rod rushed to get Rodimon. As he was just starting to tell Optimus what Hot Rod had said…
"ULTRA MAGNUS! RODIMON'S GONE!"
Scourge: Whoo!
Cyclonus: *applauds*
Galvatron: I’m sure he’ll be back. He’s just gone to report to his Quintesson masters.
It was as if his heart had been ripped out.
"Damn you…"
Scourge: That was my favorite organ!
---
"Stop…."
Midnight turned and calmly faced the child. It had been nothing for him to capture the boy. He was so young and naïve.
Cyclonus: Please no.
Scourge: *pats Cyclonus’ wing* He doesn’t, don’t worry. It’s just the author being inadvertently creepy again.
"Why should I stop?" He studied the silver face for a moment.
"Perhaps you would prefer it if I fired on you instead…" He raised his weapon and prepared to fire.
Galvatron: Fire on him!
Cyclonus: Do it! Do it!
Scourge: *waves little ‘Go Midnight!’ fans*
Rodimon held his breath but didn't move. Daddy and Papa had told him to always be brave.
Cyclonus: In preparation for the day that someone might one day slay him and free them all.
Galvatron: Good, that makes him an easier target.
He'd grown up surrounded by war so seeing a weapon aimed at him had little effect.
Scourge: Really? I grew up surrounded by war and I usually have the sense to panic when people point guns at me.
Cyclonus: Perhaps people point guns at him on a regular basis, but just never have the strength of will to fire.
"Papa will be here soon and he'll be angry."
"Oh yes… Your Papa." Midnight smiled cruelly. "I'm looking forward to seeing him again."
Scourge: Has everyone slept with Hot Rod?
He then knelt by the boy. "Tell me… Do you know the codes for the Command Tower?"
Cyclonus: We usually just go in through the ceiling.
"No." Rodimon instinctively shrank back as Midnight moved closer.
"I think you do… Give them to me…"
"I don't know…"
Scourge: Paging Chris Hanson…
"You're lying!" Midnight raised his hand to slap the boy.
"I wouldn't if I were you."
Cyclonus: You have no idea what awesome power this creature contains.
It was the woman. Her silver hair seemed more vibrant and her naked flesh glowed softly. Large silver eyes gazed at him with sadness.
Scourge: Great, the giant celestial bint is back. And with better shampoo.
Cyclonus: More vibrant than what? Midnight’s never seen her before, how would he know?
"Who are you?" Midnight snarled.
"I am your mother."
"I have no mother. None of us do."
Galvatron: I like this Midnight fellow. He’s one of the few people here with a decent grasp of reality.
He couldn't believe this. It had to be some sort of trick. He was getting nervous now.
Galvatron: Does seem to get scared rather easily, but the Decepticons can overlook such flaws.
Scourge: *grumbles*
Looking down at Rodimon he tried to think of a way to get what he needed.
Cyclonus: Throw it at her! The two powers will destroy each other.
"You're confused. But that's understandable.
Scourge: He’s not the only one confused.
After everything that's happened to you, it's nothing short of a miracle that-"
"You know nothing about me!" he shouted. How could she know the pain he'd been through when he didn't know it himself?
Cyclonus: Even he doesn’t know what gratuitous rage-inducing experience he’s supposed to have had.
Scourge: Should have read the script like everyone else, Midnight.
"I know that your heart is heavy with guilt. And that it was broken…" The woman then smiled gently. "But it can all be worked out. Your brother will accept you again."
Galvatron: You can always get a new one.
Cyclonus: After killing untold numbers of people for no particular reason. You might want to get him a card too.
"It's not his acceptance I want!" He couldn't even speak of what he longed for. To do so would bring back all the pain.
Cyclonus: Alcoholism is a horrible strain on one’s life.
Galvatron: And in this case I understand the desire for a stiff drink.
Scourge: I’d settle for a limp one at this point.
---
Perceptor looked up as the head scientist came through the doors.
Cyclonus: I thought Perceptor was the head scientist. Of something. I’m not sure what he’s head of in the first place.
Galvatron: Science, obviously.
"Ahh! Silverwing, I was hoping you'd be in today." They so rarely saw the older Transformer that it was an honor to have him stop by.
Scourge: So rare that canon doesn’t mention him at all!
Cyclonus: As Perceptor completely doesn't care that a dangerous mech is on the loose. Science waits for no Cybertornian.
Since securing his position years ago the older Autobot had submersed himself in his work. There were few alive who remembered him in his youth.
Cyclonus: Mostly because no one had seen him since he burrowed into his research notes and made a nest of quantum theory postulates.
Not that he was old. By Cybertron standards he was still considered young.
Scourge: So he’s so old that few people remember him when he was young, but he’s actually not old. What?
At six million years though, he felt five times as old. He had gained life from Vector Sigma and lived in the Dents, a type of Transformer ghetto.
Scourge: More unnecessary exposition that nobody cares about off the port bow!
Cyclonus: Fire at will, Mr. Scourge.
When he had joined the Autobots, it had been because he hated having to fight his own people for a sliver of energon and wanted a better life.
Galvatron: Sliver? What, has this fic wandered into Energon now and we’re getting our fuel from crystals?
Scourge: Well, this fic does seem to involve a lot of random but eager hookups. It makes a bit of sense.
But he had been tormented because of where he came from. It had taken several centuries for him to gain a little respect. But one had seen his worth.
Scourge: Boohoo, you showed up two seconds ago. Nobody cares about your stupid tragic past, just hook up with your destined love interest and get on with it.
The silver and blue Autobot nodded a greeting to the other scientist and went into his office.
Gone were the days when he survived in a small hole watching the days gone by.
Galvatron: Now he survived in a large hole watching the days go by.
But he longed for something from his past he couldn't have.
I was never good enough…
Scourge: I swear, this plot is more predictable than a dirty movie. And those have the plots written on the back cover.
---
"Ultra Magnus?" Hot Rod looked at his lover in concern. The City Commander had grabbed his head as if in pain but at the sound of his mate's voice looked over.
Scourge:He can telepathically sense his brother’s rage at the idiocy of the plot.
Galvatron: Yet another reason to hire him, he has the ability to give Ultra Magnus headaches.
Cyclonus: My lord, I think most of the Autobots can do that.
"I'm fine." The rescue team had been headed past the science building on their way to Vector Sigma when he felt the familiar stab of pain. Oftentimes he would be going past it or the library when the pain came; but he had gotten used to it.
Scourge: He gets headaches around large collections of knowledge?
Galvatron: I thought that was Hot Rod’s problem.
Cyclonus: Random pains in specific areas and he never stopped to think there was some sort of connection, or that this was a problem worth worrying about? Idiot.
Scourge: Remember, this is the same guy who can’t figure out contraceptives.
But seeing the worried expression on Hot Rod's face was something that he wasn't used to.
Galvatron: What with all the baby troubles and romance issues, I would think that would be his default at this point.
"Honestly, I'm fine…" His voice trailed off as he saw another Autobot come out on the balcony two stories up. His silver wings shone softly in the night and he wore a mournful expression.
Scourge: Cue Shakespeare.
Cyclonus: Bit hard to see from two stories down.
Galvatron: They have balconies?
And then it clicked.
Scourge: The on switch for the giant Science-powered death ray, that is.
"Oh Primus…" How could he have been so blind?
Cyclonus: Why was he settling for just one powerful yet physically appealing mech when he could have a mistress on the side?
The answer to his brother's insnity was right before him and he had never noticed! It was so obvious to him now.
Cyclonus: He hadn’t gotten laid yet!
Galvatron: Nonsense, it’s obviously a side effect of too much television.
Scourge: In-snitty? Insuh-nity? How do you even pronounce that?
"Magnus…"
Scourge: When’s your next trip out of town?
"Hot Rod, go in there and ask for Silverwing. Tell him to go with you to Vector Sigma's chamber. We'll need his help."
Scourge: Oh, and bring a chicken, some turtle wax and five slices of aluminum siding. I’ll explain when we get there.
"Why? What's going on?" "Just go!" Magnus hurried to catch up to the others leaving Hot Rod standing there perplexed.
Cyclonus: *as Magnus* Don’t ask me, I’m just following the script.
After a moment he headed in. It didn't take long for him to be seen (rank does have it's privileges). He walked into the large office and looked at the figure behind the desk.
*Scourge pokes the Magically Appearing Laptop, which begins to play a soft sax riff*
Scourge: He was a tall, orange mech with legs that went halfway to Nebulon. His optics were a bright blue-we all had blue optics, but they were exceptionally blue on him. He had the look on his face of a troubled mech, a mech who’d take comfort from anywhere. And I…I was just the private optical sensor to give it to him.
Cyclonus: You seem to have lost your fedora, Sweep Noir.
Scourge: You try fitting anything over this scope. I had a hard enough time getting the trenchcoat on.
"Ahh, the Chosen One. To what do I owe this honor?" Silverwing leaned back in his chair and studied the boy before him. He'd heard many legends about him.
Galvatron: There are no ‘many legends’. There’s just an extraordinarily vague one about lighting an unspecified darkest hour and that one only went off a few years ago.
"We need you to help us. Ultra Magnus' brother Midnight has my son and…"
"I'm sorry. But I can't help."
"But… My son…"
Galvatron: It’s a baby, isn’t that reason enough? Babies supersede all things.
"It's not my problem. Now if you'll excuse me…"
Cyclonus: I have to work on finding a way back to my home dimension. It’s called ‘reality’, I don’t think you’ve ever been there.
Hot Rod jumped to his feet and blocked the other's path. "My son is in danger! That madman will kill him if we don't help him. Please," he begged. "Don't let my baby die…"
Cyclonus: Why not?
Scourge: Help the baby or Midnight? I’m in favor of helping Midnight.
Galvatron: Just ORDER him to do it, you’re consort to Ultra Magnus! Start using your rank and stop acting like some romance novel bint.
---
The Autobots froze when they got inside the chamber.
Cyclonus: They had been unaware that Midnight was actually the secret fourth face of Animated Blitzwing.
Rodimon was huddled in a corner with his hands over his head and seemed all right.
Cyclonus: Damn.
Galvatron: I’d have preferred him with his head over his hands.
Midnight was howling curses while the woman tried to reason with him. None of them had ever seen her before so they were shock.
Scourge: -shock-shock-shockwave? It would explain the lessened intellect and overload of fluffy gay love.
Cyclonus: Didn’t someone see her last chapter? They have very short memories around here.
Galvatron: After Kremzeek and the Quintessons, I doubt the Silver Surfer’s disowned sister is going to shock anyone.
"Papa!" Rodimon cried scrambling to his feet. Midnight whirled and caught him before he could get away.
Cyclonus: Oh no, he’s been enslaved too! He can’t bear to give up the baby.
"Midnight!" Ultra Magnus raised his weapon prepared to fight. But Midnight knew him better than that.
Scourge: It wasn’t past the second commercial break, there was no way Ultra Magnus could defeat him.
"You won't fire. Not when I have him." His grip tightened on the boy as he looked for a way out.
Cyclonus: I control his power! You are helpless to resist me!
"Let him go…"
Wrapping a hand around the small neck, Midnight sneered, "Why would I do that?"
Cyclonus: When have Autobots not disregarded motive in favor of making irrational pleas?
Galvatron: Now is your chance to redeem yourself. Kill the monster and end his reign of saccharine cuteness.
"Midnight! Stop!"
Scourge: It’s hammer time!
Cyclonus: Wrong Ultra Magnus.
It was if Time itself had gone in reverse. Midnight's eyes shone as he remembered…
Scourge: After all that pelvic thrusting I’m not surprised we finally got a time warp.
Galvatron: And then Ultra Magnus shot him while he was distracted. Problem over.
His scent, his smile, his eyes, everything about him. Their one night of passion blazed in his head as he looked at him for the first time in seven million years.
Galvatron: *a few sparks fly from his helm, a sure sign that things have gotten even stupider* You’re joking, this entire affair is over a one night stand gone wrong?
Scourge: You’re surprised? Nobody has any other motivation in this fic besides sex and babies.
Cyclonus: I’m very sure I don’t want to know what kind of scent a scientist has. Probably acid and Bunsen burners gas.
His hands lost their grip as he moved forward. Rodimon stumbled to Papa's arms and twisted around to look. The others; Optimus, Kup and Springer also watched in astonishment.
Galvatron: As Rodimon’s head fell off, having twisted 360 degrees and snapped his neck.
Silverwing stood there at the entrance to the chamber, Hot Rod right behind him. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Midnight would never listen to him.
Scourge: Wait. Silverwing’s only six million years old, but Midnight had sex with him seven million years ago. Either time travel’s involved or someone’s found an entirely new way of robbing the assembly line.
"Silverwing." It had been so long ago that he had held him last. If he had known that he would awaken in the morning alone he would never had closed his eyes that night.
Cyclonus: People do have jobs, you know.
:: "I never loved you. I was just using you."
"No! I don't believe that!"
"Believe what you want. I always thought you were rather dense. But you were a good lay…" ::
Scourge: Loveless sex, disregard for baby…so far I don’t think he’s too bad. Doubt it’ll last, though.
As the memories of that day surfaced, rage overcame him. "You!" His hands wrapped around Silverwing's throat. The Autobots tried to stop him but some sort of force field sprang up trapping them.
Cyclonus: Out of nowhere and never to be explained again, I take it.
Scourge: And now I’m honestly not sure who to cheer for, the one-night-stander or the cruel killer.
Tears glistened in Silverwing's eyes as he stood there; the pain he felt was nothing compared to what was in his heart.
Cyclonus: We’ve probably reached our limit on organ jokes, haven’t we?
Scourge: Nope. And if his eyes are developing tears he should really take better care of them. They’ll start leaking.
He remembered the look on Midnight's face when he told him he didn't love him. It had hurt to say that to him. He hadn't wanted to, but he knew he could never deserve his love.
Scourge: Right, my support just went to Midnight.
Cyclonus: If you act like a selfish scrapmonger to indulge your low self-esteem and personal angst then no, you do not deserve anyone’s love. At the very least you only merit their disdained pity.
"Midnight!" Hot Rod cried. He tried to get at him and was thrown aside. The anger that had been building up for years and tormented him exploded as he tightened his hands. He didn't even notice that Silverwing wasn't struggling.
Galvatron: Thrown aside by the power of flashback, obviously. And I would say his anger’s already been exploding for a while if he’s randomly shooting Vector Sigma.
Cyclonus: The author could do with figuring out paragraphs. Is Hot Rod angry or is Midnight angry? Or is everyone just frustrated with not being able to know who’s doing what?
"Midnight! You're killing him!" Ultra Magnus shouted as he tried to break the barrier.
Galvatron: Magnus is a bit slow to grasp the point, I think.
"You used me… You whore," Midnight hissed. He had given everything to him only to have his heart ripped out.
Cyclonus: This author is really bad at coming up with metaphors, that’s the second time she’s used that one.
Scourge: Whores are generally the ones being used, I think someone’s misunderstood the concept of prostitution. Also, never give everything on the first date, you need to leave the really interesting stuff until you’ve figured out wrist size, pain tolerance, and where the vulnerable gaps in their armor are.
And only moments after Silverwing had left him standing there, he had found Magnus and some Femme chatting happily. His mind cracked as he watched them. Why couldn't he be happy?
Scourge: Her gender had a capital letter because she was the only one on Cybertron. Just like all the other Sues.
Cyclonus: Don’t they have the weird mental link thing? Magnus should have been on his knees sobbing.
Galvatron: Possibly he just didn’t care..
He took his anger out on them nearly killing her and in doing so the link was severed.
Cyclonus: It doesn’t matter who she was, because like most of the characters in this fic she will never be mentioned again.
"Midnight! Wait!" Hot Rod pushed himself up. When Silverwing had told him about his connection with Midnight and the affair that they had disguised as a working relationship (even hiding it from Magnus)
Cyclonus: Another scene that would have made sense to actually see rather than mention in a one sentence reference, in a fic that was focused on something other than pure romantic angst.
he had spoken in a tone filled with regret. "he lied to you that day, he was lying when he said he didn't love you!"
:: "I never loved you. I was just using you."::
Scourge: Telepathic rejection. Ouch.
"Lying…"
"Yes! He thought you would be better off without him. But he didn't think this would happen!"
Scourge: Shattering your self-esteem and making you incapable of forming intimate relationships in the future was totally fine, but when you started trying to kill people he regretted it just a bit.
Silverwing looked up as he felt the grip loosen.
Scourge: *as Silverwing* Why did you stop? I didn’t make the safeword gesture, did I?
Midnight looked down at him in confusion. "You were lying?" Why would he do that? You weren't supposed to lie to the one you loved. "Why?"
Scourge: We’re not? News to me.
Cyclonus: One supposes they mean important things, not what you’ve been doing with your credit card account.
Scourge: eBay is important.
In a voice so soft they had to strain to hear, Silverwing whispered, "The things they said about me… If they knew, if anyone knew we were together they would turn on you.
Galvatron: Who is they? Turn on them how? Stop being so blasted vague!
Cyclonus: I fail to see how this is supposed to make it all better. Horribly emotionally scarring your partner isn’t made any better because you secretly loved them but thought you couldn’t handle people talking about you behind your back. In fact, it’s probably worse, at least the first isn’t a lie.
I knew the day I met you that I would never love another but I also knew I didn't deserve you…" To speak the words that he had wanted to say seven million years ago filled him with more sorrow.
"Not deserve… How could you not deserve me? I didn't deserve you!" His hands fell down to the trembling shoulders. For so long he had been trying to figure out what he had done to be tortured like this.
Scourge: Shouldn’t have pissed off that gypsy demon.
Cyclonus: Whose hands went to whose trembling shoulders? Is he hugging himself?
[Didn't I prove to you that night that I loved you?]
Scourge: No, mostly that you’d slept through sex-ed class and had never watched a porn movie in your life.
[I thought it would be better for you if we weren't together. It hurt you to keep it from your brother.]
Cyclonus: Wait, are they going psychic now, or comlink, or…
Scourge: Do we have a reason for his brother to care that he was banging Silverwing? Was he actually a whore or something?
Galvatron: Do we have a reason for anything in this fic?
"Losing you hurt me more." Caressing the other's face he turned to Hot Rod. "You are the Chosen. I give myself up to you."
Scourge: In as sexy a way possible. You've got one kid already, you can't be that bad in bed and no way I'm going back to this bastard.
Ultra Magnus felt the link getting stronger as his brother's heart began to heal. He closed his eyes and he could see what his brother had been through; all the pain of losing the one he loved.
Scourge: Sounds like a thoroughly unpleasant experience. Why are soul bond and mental links supposed to be good things again?
Cyclonus: Because the writers usually have absolutely no idea what it’s like to understand the inner workings of another person’s psyche. And how disturbing they can get.
Would I be like that if Hot Rod left me? He looked at his son and smiled softly.
Galvatron: Of course not. The baby would never allow such a display of free will.
Scourge: Going into a homicidal fury because he’s just not that into you? We should be so lucky.
He was fine and Vector Sigma was safe. Hadn't justice served itself?
Cyclonus: Apart from having kidnapped your parasite spawn, threatened the very core of Transformer life, cursed out Primus, killed large numbers of Cybertronians, and demonstrated signs of extraordinary emotional and mental instability…yes, I’m sure he’s going to be a model citizen.
Apparently Hot Rod felt the same way. Smiling, he held out his hand. "Let's go home. All of us."
Cyclonus: You live in Iacon, you are home!
Scourge: Everyone’s going back to Hot Rod’s place? Maybe we can finally get that foursome.
Galvatron: They’re probably just going to have tea and biscuits. While watching Disney movies.
---
Several days later, Silverwing lay in his lover's arms. It had been seven million years since his only time and they had been spending the past few days making up for it.
Scourge: In extreme, passionate ways that all happened to be missionary position in the dark. Because sex can’t actually be fun because it’s sex, it has to be a deep display of emotional intimacy beyond the reaches of words or any other nonsexual activity.
Cyclonus: Are you going to be printing up pamphlets on proper emotional states for sexual activity and mailing them to the Autobots? You’re starting to get zealous.
Scourge: *defensively* I might. The Autobots could use more stress relief anyway, it makes them less aggressive in battle.
"Are you all right?"
Silverwing snuggled closer. "Mm."
---
Scourge: Well! That looks like the end of the fic, time to go! *stands up quickly*
Cyclonus: *plays along and also stands up, unsure of Scourge’s game*
Galvatron: It doesn’t look like the end of the fic.
Cyclonus: Fics end abruptly all the time, I’m sure it’s just bad writing.
Scourge: I’ll stay in here and clean up, you two go on ahead.
Galvatron: *exists the theater with Cyclonus, looking very suspicious of their intentions*
Scourge: *waits until they’re both gone before sitting down again*
"Milord, the results are in."
Scourge: More of our customers prefer the refreshing taste of Pepsi to Coca Cola.
"And what have you discovered, Cyclonus?" Galvatron gazed at his lover who was peacefully sleeping on the bed. He turned back to the screen.
Scourge: You know, fake-Galvatron, he does have a comlink. You don’t need to randomly turn on the TV to talk to him.
"The boy will be able to carry the child to term, but I would advise extreme caution given his delicate condition."
Scourge: For instance, you should probably stop using a cattle prod during sex. And give him lots of calcium. We’re not sure why, but it can’t hurt.
"Very well. Give me the details later." Cutting the link, he made his way over to the bed. Star Fighter had conceived his child less than a week ago and he wasn't going to take any chances.
Scourge: If this little thing is the spawn of Galvatron, I don’t know if anyone could carry it to term. It would probably blast its way out ahead of schedule and go try to conquer the nearest shiny object.
"Sleep well, Beloved…."
Scourge: Don’t mind if I do! *scurries out of the theater, after making sure all the text has left the screen. One more chapter to go…*
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part 4a
"Midnight? Who's Midnight?" Arcee asked as everyone else began to whisper.
Scourge: He’s an OC with a dramatic name, he must be important!
"Midnight is my brother." Ultra Magnus saw the looks on their faces but he didn't care.
Scourge: Neither do we.
Cyclonus: We’re going to be attacked by mirrorverse RiD Optimus Prime, oh dear.
He couldn't believe that this was happening. He had thought he was safe. For nearly five million years his personal hell had seemed to vanish.
Cyclonus: Is it just me or do these writers really like the term ‘personal hell’?
Galvatron: I’m hardly surprised, they’re good at creating them.
But now it had returned… and now his child was in danger.
Galvatron: Please, as if anything would happen to the babies. The author has no way to create dramatic tension, since we don’t care about the characters’ past pain and the present pain will be minimal at best to preserve familial bliss.
"Your… brother…." Hot Rod looked at him and then towards the safe room. His 'maternal instinct' was telling him to go be with his son, to protect him.
Galvatron: Ah, we finally have a term for the brainwashing that the babies perpetuate on surrounding mechs.
Cyclonus: It’s a clever process, I would love if we could get some of it for ourselves. But I don’t think it’s worth impregnating the Autobots with Decepticon spawn.
But when he looked back at his mate, he knew who needed him more.
Cyclonus: Non-baby priorities? The conditioning must be wearing off, take him to the reeducation chamber.
Optimus now spoke up. "About nine million years ago, Ultra Magnus, Alita One, myself and several of the older Autobots were created by Vector Sigma.
Galvatron: We didn’t ask for your biography, Prime.
Cyclonus: For Cybertron’s sake, the author isn’t even bothering with the cartoon at this point. It’s regular fiction with our names pasted on.
Scourge: Considering how popular those kinds of fics are, she may have picked a winning strategy.
Ultra Magnus and Midnight were created using the same basic structure and were called brothers.
Scourge: Incoming needless exposition!
Cyclonus: Wait a moment, we already have plenty of brothers, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker aren’t identical. This is just a bad excuse for a palette swap.
They had a mental link between them like that of the Gestalts, except it was much stronger."
Scourge: That’s not how brothers work. That’s how Reflector works.
"At times," the City Commander said. "We could even read each other's minds."
Cyclonus: Is this Magnus talking or the narration? Or is Magnus talking to the narration? And if so, can I send a few choice messages to the narration too?
"Why does he want to hurt the children?" Tracks asked.
Galvatron: A better question is “Why wouldn’t he want to hurt the children?”.
"Seven million years ago, the link was broken." Ultra Magnus' eyes dimmed as he recalled first feeling that his brother's presence was gone.
Scourge: And his immense feeling of joy at finally getting his brother to stop making rude psychic comments while he was having sex.
"He went mad, attacking and killing whoever got in his way. We managed to capture him, but he escaped.
Cyclonus: Don’t bother giving us the details or anything, that might actually be interesting.
Scourge: Rape is the only interesting violent act, obviously.
For centuries, he's been a plague.
Scourge: And you don’t even want to know how he’s transmitted. Let’s just say it involves wet celery and egg whisks.
He comes every few centuries to kill. It's been nearly five million years since he last showed up.
Scourge: …wait, what?
Cyclonus: Impressive. She manages to contradict her own plot in the span of a mere sentence. I would consider that a new record.
We had hoped he was dead."
There was silence as they all took this in.
Galvatron: Murderous killing machine threatening the very existence of the Autobots…on a Thursday? Who could imagine such a thing?
Finally Springer spoke.
"How will we recognize him? If he looks like Magnus…"
Cyclonus: Then find someone who looks like Ultra Magnus and kill him. Or at least lock him up, if you’re really too stupid to tell them apart.
"He is dark blue and gray. You can't miss him."
Scourge: Because our most defining feature are our color schemes, obviously. That’s why Sunstreaker is commonly mistaken for Bumblebee.
"Ultra Magnus has been fitted with a locator just in case," Prime said.
Galvatron: In case of what?
Scourge: Trying to flee the fic?
"As of now, no one may enter or leave Iacon;
Scourge: Hope someone brought a bag lunch for the Witwickies.
Galvatron: One mech. One. Mech. I don’t care if he’s Magnus shaped, either he can be easily stopped by the guards or he’s powerful enough to blast through their roadblock anyway.
the children are to be kept here in the Command Tower during the day and now we're at Red Alert."
Cyclonus: Yes, put the children in the place we most need to be secure should we come under attack. I’m sure they won’t accidentally fire any missiles at Moscow.
Scourge: *as Red Alert* How did you get into my room? You’ve all been turned against me, haven’t you? You want to reprogram me and use me as a breeding machine! I’m on to your plot!
Cyclonus: What little plot there is.
---
"So it looks like we won't be going anywhere for a while…" Thundercracker groused. "I don't like the idea of you being here."
Cyclonus: We don’t like the idea of being here either.
Galvatron: More bird Transformers. Anyone else feel like game for dinner?
He gently caressed First Aid's stomach. "I don't want that monster to get near you guys…"
Scourge: And now, seeing as First Aid’s stomach is now a separate entity, we’ve crossed fandoms with “Evil Con Carne”.
"As long as you're here," First Aid whispered softly. "I feel safe." He rolled over and reached up, pulling his lover down towards him and in a matter of moments, codpieces were off and their fears were forgotten as they made love…
Scourge: Times and places sex is not appropriate: during preparations for an impending enemy assault.
Cyclonus: That’s never stopped you.
Scourge: We had a five hour ETA and nothing was happening. And that’s another thing, all this is ‘making love’, some beautiful and passionate event that’s magical every time or some rot like that. Where’s the frantic supply closet sex? The casual handjobs before refueling time? Or, Vector Sigma forbid, the one night stands?
Cyclonus: You’re getting too into this, Scourge.
Scourge: I think it’s starting to get into me. Remind me to do a virus scan after we leave.
---
Deep inside of Cybertron, in Vector Sigma's chamber, a creature of the night slowly moved towards the awesome super computer.
Scourge: *putting on an Eastern European accent* He vants to suck your life force!
Cyclonus: Really. A single mech is able to infiltrate Autobot-controlled Cybertron during a lockdown and go to the heart of Vector Sigma’s chambers without being noticed. That seems completely plausible.
Galvatron: We should hire him, he seems to be more competent than everyone else in this fic.
His name was Midnight.
Scourge: Did we really need to be told that? There’s only one scary mech in the plot right now.
Galvatron: Did we care?
He calmly raised his weapon and fired.
Cyclonus: In a better fic this might actually lead to a need for pregnancy in the wake of the loss of the only other source of Transformer life. But I doubt it.
---
"Magnus!" Hot Rod shot up in bed panting. His body shook as he looked around. His lover sat up and stared at him. "Magnus…"
Scourge: Have you been putting clothes on me in my sleep again?
Cyclonus: Pick a scene and develop it! This fic jumps around more than Blurr on a ethanol high.
Galvatron: And it keeps confusing its dialogue tags. Now it looks like Ultra Magnus is a pokemon.
"What's wrong? Honey, what is it?" Magnus tried to calm him down. He managed to make out some of what Hot Rod was saying.
Scourge: Honey? We have ascended to new levels of bad.
Cyclonus: A congealed sticky substance made of regurgitated insect fluids, that sounds very romantic.
"Sigma…. Midnight…. Danger…"
Scourge: Maybe it’s an Autobot version of the NATO phonetic alphabet.
Cyclonus: Sierra Tango Foxtrot Uniform, Hot Rod.
Shit! He's trying to destroy Vector Sigma!
Cyclonus: …’shit’?
Scourge: Yes, it is.
Galvatron: Hot Rod is psychic now, intriguing. That really gives him no excuse for pretending he never got my calls.
He shot out of bed while Hot Rod rushed to get Rodimon. As he was just starting to tell Optimus what Hot Rod had said…
"ULTRA MAGNUS! RODIMON'S GONE!"
Scourge: Whoo!
Cyclonus: *applauds*
Galvatron: I’m sure he’ll be back. He’s just gone to report to his Quintesson masters.
It was as if his heart had been ripped out.
"Damn you…"
Scourge: That was my favorite organ!
---
"Stop…."
Midnight turned and calmly faced the child. It had been nothing for him to capture the boy. He was so young and naïve.
Cyclonus: Please no.
Scourge: *pats Cyclonus’ wing* He doesn’t, don’t worry. It’s just the author being inadvertently creepy again.
"Why should I stop?" He studied the silver face for a moment.
"Perhaps you would prefer it if I fired on you instead…" He raised his weapon and prepared to fire.
Galvatron: Fire on him!
Cyclonus: Do it! Do it!
Scourge: *waves little ‘Go Midnight!’ fans*
Rodimon held his breath but didn't move. Daddy and Papa had told him to always be brave.
Cyclonus: In preparation for the day that someone might one day slay him and free them all.
Galvatron: Good, that makes him an easier target.
He'd grown up surrounded by war so seeing a weapon aimed at him had little effect.
Scourge: Really? I grew up surrounded by war and I usually have the sense to panic when people point guns at me.
Cyclonus: Perhaps people point guns at him on a regular basis, but just never have the strength of will to fire.
"Papa will be here soon and he'll be angry."
"Oh yes… Your Papa." Midnight smiled cruelly. "I'm looking forward to seeing him again."
Scourge: Has everyone slept with Hot Rod?
He then knelt by the boy. "Tell me… Do you know the codes for the Command Tower?"
Cyclonus: We usually just go in through the ceiling.
"No." Rodimon instinctively shrank back as Midnight moved closer.
"I think you do… Give them to me…"
"I don't know…"
Scourge: Paging Chris Hanson…
"You're lying!" Midnight raised his hand to slap the boy.
"I wouldn't if I were you."
Cyclonus: You have no idea what awesome power this creature contains.
It was the woman. Her silver hair seemed more vibrant and her naked flesh glowed softly. Large silver eyes gazed at him with sadness.
Scourge: Great, the giant celestial bint is back. And with better shampoo.
Cyclonus: More vibrant than what? Midnight’s never seen her before, how would he know?
"Who are you?" Midnight snarled.
"I am your mother."
"I have no mother. None of us do."
Galvatron: I like this Midnight fellow. He’s one of the few people here with a decent grasp of reality.
He couldn't believe this. It had to be some sort of trick. He was getting nervous now.
Galvatron: Does seem to get scared rather easily, but the Decepticons can overlook such flaws.
Scourge: *grumbles*
Looking down at Rodimon he tried to think of a way to get what he needed.
Cyclonus: Throw it at her! The two powers will destroy each other.
"You're confused. But that's understandable.
Scourge: He’s not the only one confused.
After everything that's happened to you, it's nothing short of a miracle that-"
"You know nothing about me!" he shouted. How could she know the pain he'd been through when he didn't know it himself?
Cyclonus: Even he doesn’t know what gratuitous rage-inducing experience he’s supposed to have had.
Scourge: Should have read the script like everyone else, Midnight.
"I know that your heart is heavy with guilt. And that it was broken…" The woman then smiled gently. "But it can all be worked out. Your brother will accept you again."
Galvatron: You can always get a new one.
Cyclonus: After killing untold numbers of people for no particular reason. You might want to get him a card too.
"It's not his acceptance I want!" He couldn't even speak of what he longed for. To do so would bring back all the pain.
Cyclonus: Alcoholism is a horrible strain on one’s life.
Galvatron: And in this case I understand the desire for a stiff drink.
Scourge: I’d settle for a limp one at this point.
---
Perceptor looked up as the head scientist came through the doors.
Cyclonus: I thought Perceptor was the head scientist. Of something. I’m not sure what he’s head of in the first place.
Galvatron: Science, obviously.
"Ahh! Silverwing, I was hoping you'd be in today." They so rarely saw the older Transformer that it was an honor to have him stop by.
Scourge: So rare that canon doesn’t mention him at all!
Cyclonus: As Perceptor completely doesn't care that a dangerous mech is on the loose. Science waits for no Cybertornian.
Since securing his position years ago the older Autobot had submersed himself in his work. There were few alive who remembered him in his youth.
Cyclonus: Mostly because no one had seen him since he burrowed into his research notes and made a nest of quantum theory postulates.
Not that he was old. By Cybertron standards he was still considered young.
Scourge: So he’s so old that few people remember him when he was young, but he’s actually not old. What?
At six million years though, he felt five times as old. He had gained life from Vector Sigma and lived in the Dents, a type of Transformer ghetto.
Scourge: More unnecessary exposition that nobody cares about off the port bow!
Cyclonus: Fire at will, Mr. Scourge.
When he had joined the Autobots, it had been because he hated having to fight his own people for a sliver of energon and wanted a better life.
Galvatron: Sliver? What, has this fic wandered into Energon now and we’re getting our fuel from crystals?
Scourge: Well, this fic does seem to involve a lot of random but eager hookups. It makes a bit of sense.
But he had been tormented because of where he came from. It had taken several centuries for him to gain a little respect. But one had seen his worth.
Scourge: Boohoo, you showed up two seconds ago. Nobody cares about your stupid tragic past, just hook up with your destined love interest and get on with it.
The silver and blue Autobot nodded a greeting to the other scientist and went into his office.
Gone were the days when he survived in a small hole watching the days gone by.
Galvatron: Now he survived in a large hole watching the days go by.
But he longed for something from his past he couldn't have.
I was never good enough…
Scourge: I swear, this plot is more predictable than a dirty movie. And those have the plots written on the back cover.
---
"Ultra Magnus?" Hot Rod looked at his lover in concern. The City Commander had grabbed his head as if in pain but at the sound of his mate's voice looked over.
Scourge:He can telepathically sense his brother’s rage at the idiocy of the plot.
Galvatron: Yet another reason to hire him, he has the ability to give Ultra Magnus headaches.
Cyclonus: My lord, I think most of the Autobots can do that.
"I'm fine." The rescue team had been headed past the science building on their way to Vector Sigma when he felt the familiar stab of pain. Oftentimes he would be going past it or the library when the pain came; but he had gotten used to it.
Scourge: He gets headaches around large collections of knowledge?
Galvatron: I thought that was Hot Rod’s problem.
Cyclonus: Random pains in specific areas and he never stopped to think there was some sort of connection, or that this was a problem worth worrying about? Idiot.
Scourge: Remember, this is the same guy who can’t figure out contraceptives.
But seeing the worried expression on Hot Rod's face was something that he wasn't used to.
Galvatron: What with all the baby troubles and romance issues, I would think that would be his default at this point.
"Honestly, I'm fine…" His voice trailed off as he saw another Autobot come out on the balcony two stories up. His silver wings shone softly in the night and he wore a mournful expression.
Scourge: Cue Shakespeare.
Cyclonus: Bit hard to see from two stories down.
Galvatron: They have balconies?
And then it clicked.
Scourge: The on switch for the giant Science-powered death ray, that is.
"Oh Primus…" How could he have been so blind?
Cyclonus: Why was he settling for just one powerful yet physically appealing mech when he could have a mistress on the side?
The answer to his brother's insnity was right before him and he had never noticed! It was so obvious to him now.
Cyclonus: He hadn’t gotten laid yet!
Galvatron: Nonsense, it’s obviously a side effect of too much television.
Scourge: In-snitty? Insuh-nity? How do you even pronounce that?
"Magnus…"
Scourge: When’s your next trip out of town?
"Hot Rod, go in there and ask for Silverwing. Tell him to go with you to Vector Sigma's chamber. We'll need his help."
Scourge: Oh, and bring a chicken, some turtle wax and five slices of aluminum siding. I’ll explain when we get there.
"Why? What's going on?" "Just go!" Magnus hurried to catch up to the others leaving Hot Rod standing there perplexed.
Cyclonus: *as Magnus* Don’t ask me, I’m just following the script.
After a moment he headed in. It didn't take long for him to be seen (rank does have it's privileges). He walked into the large office and looked at the figure behind the desk.
*Scourge pokes the Magically Appearing Laptop, which begins to play a soft sax riff*
Scourge: He was a tall, orange mech with legs that went halfway to Nebulon. His optics were a bright blue-we all had blue optics, but they were exceptionally blue on him. He had the look on his face of a troubled mech, a mech who’d take comfort from anywhere. And I…I was just the private optical sensor to give it to him.
Cyclonus: You seem to have lost your fedora, Sweep Noir.
Scourge: You try fitting anything over this scope. I had a hard enough time getting the trenchcoat on.
"Ahh, the Chosen One. To what do I owe this honor?" Silverwing leaned back in his chair and studied the boy before him. He'd heard many legends about him.
Galvatron: There are no ‘many legends’. There’s just an extraordinarily vague one about lighting an unspecified darkest hour and that one only went off a few years ago.
"We need you to help us. Ultra Magnus' brother Midnight has my son and…"
"I'm sorry. But I can't help."
"But… My son…"
Galvatron: It’s a baby, isn’t that reason enough? Babies supersede all things.
"It's not my problem. Now if you'll excuse me…"
Cyclonus: I have to work on finding a way back to my home dimension. It’s called ‘reality’, I don’t think you’ve ever been there.
Hot Rod jumped to his feet and blocked the other's path. "My son is in danger! That madman will kill him if we don't help him. Please," he begged. "Don't let my baby die…"
Cyclonus: Why not?
Scourge: Help the baby or Midnight? I’m in favor of helping Midnight.
Galvatron: Just ORDER him to do it, you’re consort to Ultra Magnus! Start using your rank and stop acting like some romance novel bint.
---
The Autobots froze when they got inside the chamber.
Cyclonus: They had been unaware that Midnight was actually the secret fourth face of Animated Blitzwing.
Rodimon was huddled in a corner with his hands over his head and seemed all right.
Cyclonus: Damn.
Galvatron: I’d have preferred him with his head over his hands.
Midnight was howling curses while the woman tried to reason with him. None of them had ever seen her before so they were shock.
Scourge: -shock-shock-shockwave? It would explain the lessened intellect and overload of fluffy gay love.
Cyclonus: Didn’t someone see her last chapter? They have very short memories around here.
Galvatron: After Kremzeek and the Quintessons, I doubt the Silver Surfer’s disowned sister is going to shock anyone.
"Papa!" Rodimon cried scrambling to his feet. Midnight whirled and caught him before he could get away.
Cyclonus: Oh no, he’s been enslaved too! He can’t bear to give up the baby.
"Midnight!" Ultra Magnus raised his weapon prepared to fight. But Midnight knew him better than that.
Scourge: It wasn’t past the second commercial break, there was no way Ultra Magnus could defeat him.
"You won't fire. Not when I have him." His grip tightened on the boy as he looked for a way out.
Cyclonus: I control his power! You are helpless to resist me!
"Let him go…"
Wrapping a hand around the small neck, Midnight sneered, "Why would I do that?"
Cyclonus: When have Autobots not disregarded motive in favor of making irrational pleas?
Galvatron: Now is your chance to redeem yourself. Kill the monster and end his reign of saccharine cuteness.
"Midnight! Stop!"
Scourge: It’s hammer time!
Cyclonus: Wrong Ultra Magnus.
It was if Time itself had gone in reverse. Midnight's eyes shone as he remembered…
Scourge: After all that pelvic thrusting I’m not surprised we finally got a time warp.
Galvatron: And then Ultra Magnus shot him while he was distracted. Problem over.
His scent, his smile, his eyes, everything about him. Their one night of passion blazed in his head as he looked at him for the first time in seven million years.
Galvatron: *a few sparks fly from his helm, a sure sign that things have gotten even stupider* You’re joking, this entire affair is over a one night stand gone wrong?
Scourge: You’re surprised? Nobody has any other motivation in this fic besides sex and babies.
Cyclonus: I’m very sure I don’t want to know what kind of scent a scientist has. Probably acid and Bunsen burners gas.
His hands lost their grip as he moved forward. Rodimon stumbled to Papa's arms and twisted around to look. The others; Optimus, Kup and Springer also watched in astonishment.
Galvatron: As Rodimon’s head fell off, having twisted 360 degrees and snapped his neck.
Silverwing stood there at the entrance to the chamber, Hot Rod right behind him. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Midnight would never listen to him.
Scourge: Wait. Silverwing’s only six million years old, but Midnight had sex with him seven million years ago. Either time travel’s involved or someone’s found an entirely new way of robbing the assembly line.
"Silverwing." It had been so long ago that he had held him last. If he had known that he would awaken in the morning alone he would never had closed his eyes that night.
Cyclonus: People do have jobs, you know.
:: "I never loved you. I was just using you."
"No! I don't believe that!"
"Believe what you want. I always thought you were rather dense. But you were a good lay…" ::
Scourge: Loveless sex, disregard for baby…so far I don’t think he’s too bad. Doubt it’ll last, though.
As the memories of that day surfaced, rage overcame him. "You!" His hands wrapped around Silverwing's throat. The Autobots tried to stop him but some sort of force field sprang up trapping them.
Cyclonus: Out of nowhere and never to be explained again, I take it.
Scourge: And now I’m honestly not sure who to cheer for, the one-night-stander or the cruel killer.
Tears glistened in Silverwing's eyes as he stood there; the pain he felt was nothing compared to what was in his heart.
Cyclonus: We’ve probably reached our limit on organ jokes, haven’t we?
Scourge: Nope. And if his eyes are developing tears he should really take better care of them. They’ll start leaking.
He remembered the look on Midnight's face when he told him he didn't love him. It had hurt to say that to him. He hadn't wanted to, but he knew he could never deserve his love.
Scourge: Right, my support just went to Midnight.
Cyclonus: If you act like a selfish scrapmonger to indulge your low self-esteem and personal angst then no, you do not deserve anyone’s love. At the very least you only merit their disdained pity.
"Midnight!" Hot Rod cried. He tried to get at him and was thrown aside. The anger that had been building up for years and tormented him exploded as he tightened his hands. He didn't even notice that Silverwing wasn't struggling.
Galvatron: Thrown aside by the power of flashback, obviously. And I would say his anger’s already been exploding for a while if he’s randomly shooting Vector Sigma.
Cyclonus: The author could do with figuring out paragraphs. Is Hot Rod angry or is Midnight angry? Or is everyone just frustrated with not being able to know who’s doing what?
"Midnight! You're killing him!" Ultra Magnus shouted as he tried to break the barrier.
Galvatron: Magnus is a bit slow to grasp the point, I think.
"You used me… You whore," Midnight hissed. He had given everything to him only to have his heart ripped out.
Cyclonus: This author is really bad at coming up with metaphors, that’s the second time she’s used that one.
Scourge: Whores are generally the ones being used, I think someone’s misunderstood the concept of prostitution. Also, never give everything on the first date, you need to leave the really interesting stuff until you’ve figured out wrist size, pain tolerance, and where the vulnerable gaps in their armor are.
And only moments after Silverwing had left him standing there, he had found Magnus and some Femme chatting happily. His mind cracked as he watched them. Why couldn't he be happy?
Scourge: Her gender had a capital letter because she was the only one on Cybertron. Just like all the other Sues.
Cyclonus: Don’t they have the weird mental link thing? Magnus should have been on his knees sobbing.
Galvatron: Possibly he just didn’t care..
He took his anger out on them nearly killing her and in doing so the link was severed.
Cyclonus: It doesn’t matter who she was, because like most of the characters in this fic she will never be mentioned again.
"Midnight! Wait!" Hot Rod pushed himself up. When Silverwing had told him about his connection with Midnight and the affair that they had disguised as a working relationship (even hiding it from Magnus)
Cyclonus: Another scene that would have made sense to actually see rather than mention in a one sentence reference, in a fic that was focused on something other than pure romantic angst.
he had spoken in a tone filled with regret. "he lied to you that day, he was lying when he said he didn't love you!"
:: "I never loved you. I was just using you."::
Scourge: Telepathic rejection. Ouch.
"Lying…"
"Yes! He thought you would be better off without him. But he didn't think this would happen!"
Scourge: Shattering your self-esteem and making you incapable of forming intimate relationships in the future was totally fine, but when you started trying to kill people he regretted it just a bit.
Silverwing looked up as he felt the grip loosen.
Scourge: *as Silverwing* Why did you stop? I didn’t make the safeword gesture, did I?
Midnight looked down at him in confusion. "You were lying?" Why would he do that? You weren't supposed to lie to the one you loved. "Why?"
Scourge: We’re not? News to me.
Cyclonus: One supposes they mean important things, not what you’ve been doing with your credit card account.
Scourge: eBay is important.
In a voice so soft they had to strain to hear, Silverwing whispered, "The things they said about me… If they knew, if anyone knew we were together they would turn on you.
Galvatron: Who is they? Turn on them how? Stop being so blasted vague!
Cyclonus: I fail to see how this is supposed to make it all better. Horribly emotionally scarring your partner isn’t made any better because you secretly loved them but thought you couldn’t handle people talking about you behind your back. In fact, it’s probably worse, at least the first isn’t a lie.
I knew the day I met you that I would never love another but I also knew I didn't deserve you…" To speak the words that he had wanted to say seven million years ago filled him with more sorrow.
"Not deserve… How could you not deserve me? I didn't deserve you!" His hands fell down to the trembling shoulders. For so long he had been trying to figure out what he had done to be tortured like this.
Scourge: Shouldn’t have pissed off that gypsy demon.
Cyclonus: Whose hands went to whose trembling shoulders? Is he hugging himself?
[Didn't I prove to you that night that I loved you?]
Scourge: No, mostly that you’d slept through sex-ed class and had never watched a porn movie in your life.
[I thought it would be better for you if we weren't together. It hurt you to keep it from your brother.]
Cyclonus: Wait, are they going psychic now, or comlink, or…
Scourge: Do we have a reason for his brother to care that he was banging Silverwing? Was he actually a whore or something?
Galvatron: Do we have a reason for anything in this fic?
"Losing you hurt me more." Caressing the other's face he turned to Hot Rod. "You are the Chosen. I give myself up to you."
Scourge: In as sexy a way possible. You've got one kid already, you can't be that bad in bed and no way I'm going back to this bastard.
Ultra Magnus felt the link getting stronger as his brother's heart began to heal. He closed his eyes and he could see what his brother had been through; all the pain of losing the one he loved.
Scourge: Sounds like a thoroughly unpleasant experience. Why are soul bond and mental links supposed to be good things again?
Cyclonus: Because the writers usually have absolutely no idea what it’s like to understand the inner workings of another person’s psyche. And how disturbing they can get.
Would I be like that if Hot Rod left me? He looked at his son and smiled softly.
Galvatron: Of course not. The baby would never allow such a display of free will.
Scourge: Going into a homicidal fury because he’s just not that into you? We should be so lucky.
He was fine and Vector Sigma was safe. Hadn't justice served itself?
Cyclonus: Apart from having kidnapped your parasite spawn, threatened the very core of Transformer life, cursed out Primus, killed large numbers of Cybertronians, and demonstrated signs of extraordinary emotional and mental instability…yes, I’m sure he’s going to be a model citizen.
Apparently Hot Rod felt the same way. Smiling, he held out his hand. "Let's go home. All of us."
Cyclonus: You live in Iacon, you are home!
Scourge: Everyone’s going back to Hot Rod’s place? Maybe we can finally get that foursome.
Galvatron: They’re probably just going to have tea and biscuits. While watching Disney movies.
---
Several days later, Silverwing lay in his lover's arms. It had been seven million years since his only time and they had been spending the past few days making up for it.
Scourge: In extreme, passionate ways that all happened to be missionary position in the dark. Because sex can’t actually be fun because it’s sex, it has to be a deep display of emotional intimacy beyond the reaches of words or any other nonsexual activity.
Cyclonus: Are you going to be printing up pamphlets on proper emotional states for sexual activity and mailing them to the Autobots? You’re starting to get zealous.
Scourge: *defensively* I might. The Autobots could use more stress relief anyway, it makes them less aggressive in battle.
"Are you all right?"
Silverwing snuggled closer. "Mm."
---
Scourge: Well! That looks like the end of the fic, time to go! *stands up quickly*
Cyclonus: *plays along and also stands up, unsure of Scourge’s game*
Galvatron: It doesn’t look like the end of the fic.
Cyclonus: Fics end abruptly all the time, I’m sure it’s just bad writing.
Scourge: I’ll stay in here and clean up, you two go on ahead.
Galvatron: *exists the theater with Cyclonus, looking very suspicious of their intentions*
Scourge: *waits until they’re both gone before sitting down again*
"Milord, the results are in."
Scourge: More of our customers prefer the refreshing taste of Pepsi to Coca Cola.
"And what have you discovered, Cyclonus?" Galvatron gazed at his lover who was peacefully sleeping on the bed. He turned back to the screen.
Scourge: You know, fake-Galvatron, he does have a comlink. You don’t need to randomly turn on the TV to talk to him.
"The boy will be able to carry the child to term, but I would advise extreme caution given his delicate condition."
Scourge: For instance, you should probably stop using a cattle prod during sex. And give him lots of calcium. We’re not sure why, but it can’t hurt.
"Very well. Give me the details later." Cutting the link, he made his way over to the bed. Star Fighter had conceived his child less than a week ago and he wasn't going to take any chances.
Scourge: If this little thing is the spawn of Galvatron, I don’t know if anyone could carry it to term. It would probably blast its way out ahead of schedule and go try to conquer the nearest shiny object.
"Sleep well, Beloved…."
Scourge: Don’t mind if I do! *scurries out of the theater, after making sure all the text has left the screen. One more chapter to go…*