TITLE: Feedback
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis

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He woke with a headache.

A whole body ache.

Everything was a mass of pain.

Sound was… muted.

Sight was… barely there.

Blurry shapes and muffled noises.

He blinked. The world remained blurry and the sound was warbling more than it was clear and audible. Like a dust bomb had exploded around him. Grayish white light.

He blinked again and tried to focus on the shape not far away. It was huge, filling his whole vision. Dark and metallic, if he was any judge. A mostly blind, blurry-visioned judge.

His mind struggled to cope with the pain signals. He couldn’t really define the pain, where it came from. It was as blurry as his vision. No sharp pulses, just… pain.

He tried to move and it was simply a twitch of fingers.

Huh. Fingers. Yeah, he had fingers, and he could see them. Apparently he had flung out an arm and he was looking at weakly twitching fingers. His own.

Cool.

He frowned.

His fingers looked… weird. Not like his own as he remembered them. Then again, his mind tried to make him understand, his fingers were there. And they sometimes looked weird and strange and freaky and…

… covered in burned-golden runes and glyphs and squiggly lines.

Allspark code. Yeah, now he remembered.

And with the memory came more. There were scenes flashing through his mind that must have happened and he thought they did, but like after a concussion grenade he felt like scrambled eggs inside and out.

Something moved and he moved, too. Surprised by the reaction of his body, the instinctual movement, he was slightly off-kilter and still blurry-visioned, but he was now crouching down. The animal part inside him was very much aware of how vulnerable he was, how much he had to rely on those old instincts, and they acted accordingly.

There was a mad scrabble to one side, followed by a whine and he forced himself to focus on that. His eyes cleared a little more, but before he could think of getting closer to the shadow, the massive metal thing to his left moved.

Not much, but it did.

Optics lit up. Red optics.

Decepticon!

His mind cleared rapidly and it was like something inside him charged, purged his system, and he was very clear-headed from one second to the next.

Will Lennox reacted again, and again it was instinct, and again he didn’t think. Energy flared up and released.

Energy bubbles enveloped the enemy and he collapsed once more..

Something whined shrilly in alarm and there was metal scraping over rough ground; the optics flickered, then went dark again.

Lennox panted, feeling drained, his body starting to shake. His vision was clearing more and more, just like his memory was coming back.

Him and Ironhide on the road, coming back from Yuma. Some kind of trap. Explosions… fire… pain… and then the cry of his partner as something hot and powerful had punctured his armor and buried near his spark.

Ironhide fell.

Energon gushed out of the wound.

Blue optics flickered.

Died.

And then a spark Will knew so intimately like no one else stuttered and died as well.

Lennox had reacted by instinct at that moment, becoming what the Allspark had given him. He had attacked the Decepticon and turned the world into a war zone, his sole intention to kill the one who had injured his partner.

Possibly killed his partner.

His head whipped around, looking frantically for Ironhide and he found a sizable mech not far away, in the middle of a world that had been desert once but looked like alien landscape now.

“Ironhide,” he managed, voice rough and weak.

He stumbled over to the motionless mech, runes flaring all over his body, and he wondered why he was still looking like a protoform, why he hadn’t reverted back to his human self. But those thoughts were more superficial than anything else. He was only thinking of Ironhide.

The wound was still there, terrible, crusted in sand and energon, but underneath the mistreated armor Will saw the faint glow of a spark. He felt the tiny pulses through the contact of protoform skin on dented armor. He knew Ironhide was still there, still alive, just in stasis-lock to protect himself.

There was movement again and he turned, energy crackling over one hand as his body prepared for defense.

The shadow ducked, red eyes flickering, and the sharp extensions along the symbiote's back twitched and then flattened in fear. Ravage was clearly trying to become one with the ground, to be invisible. Sharp claws scrabbled over the molten ground and he bumped into one of his fellow symbiotes. Lazerbeak, Will realized.

Both looked rather scorched, too. And both were in raw beast mode.

Behind them, the large bulk of Soundwave lay unmoving, and he looked like something had truly fried him.

Soundwave.

Shit.

Hell…

And Lennox remembered the moment the large Decepticon had made a grab for him.

It had been an attack out of the blue, a trap set to snare him and take out Ironhide in the process. They hadn’t expected it, they hadn’t had any intel on Soundwave being on Earth, and all Will had been thinking was ‘shitshitshit’.

All had been over quickly – and then it had begun. Ironhide had suffered such massive damage, he had gone down and remained unmoving. Soundwave had thrown everything at the well-armored weapons specialist; maybe to kill, but definitely to immobilize. He had succeeded, but he hadn’t counted on Will’s desperation and the development of his powers throughout the past months.



He felt like he was about to be torn to pieces. Every molecule seemed to be flung in a different direction until it bounced back from some kind of soft wall, and then reassembled. He screamed in agony; the pain was overwhelming.

Energy ripped through him, out of him, at the enemy. Anger and fury and pain and desperation and fear for Ironhide combined, igniting something inside him that was howling to be freed.



Lennox shook his head as if to dislodge the scattered memories and stood on shaky legs in his protoform shape, covered in angry glyphs, and still the energy was there; strong, powerful and aggressive. Ready to strike. The symbiotes felt it and kept their distance, looking freaked. He heard their whispers, their communication, all hushed and scared and low-key. All had signs of a very angry meeting with his energy bubbles.

Ironhide was down for the count. Will had no idea if he could contact the rest of the Autobots. Soundwave could come around any second once more. And the symbiotes might not be afraid of him for long, though they looked like they would rather bolt than stay, only their loyalty to their master keeping them here.

Red optics flared once more and Soundwave sat up. It was a slow move, scanners suddenly running on full. Lennox felt them bounce all over his transformed body, reflected back at the damaged Decepticon, and it was with some satisfaction that he noticed the winces. He knew that hurt. Especially someone as sensitive as Soundwave.



And then there was a presence in his mind, scanning, asking, prodding. He tried to escape the searching presence, but was finally caught.

He lashed out.

The presence shattered with a scream of surprise and agony.

The pain subsided, but the defensive powers rose, striking at the enemy. Will’s mind collapsed, unable to keep up under the pressure. He surrendered control to instinct, felt everything shift and take on another form.

Approval whispered in his mind with voices he had heard before. The Primes.

Finally he was only encompassed by blackness.



Now very much conscious and one hundred percent in control, Lennox raised his right hand, energy bubbling within his curled fingers. Uneasy chattering erupted between the symbiotes, some high-pitched shrills and a lot of clicking warbles. He had no idea how strong he was, how much he would be able to do, how much Soundwave had recovered, but he would fight to the end. Ironhide was still down, so it was all up to him, since he had no idea whether or not there was any cavalry coming any time soon.

Keeping half an eye on the symbiotes he was surprised to notice that he kind of understood their communication. Unlike Sam he couldn’t understand Cybertronian as such, but he caught the gist of things now.

They were truly terrified, mentioning his title as Prime again and again. Some were outright staring at his mark, drawn between submission and flight.

Will tensed, ready to access his considerable powers as Soundwave steadied himself. He was towering over the protoform hybrid, his red visor-hidden optics studying him with no reflection of an emotion. Sand was flaking off him, debris had been lodged in the many scrapes and cuts, and half of his body was charred. The symbiotes were clustered close to their master. If a wide-eyed stare was possible for a mechanoid, they were closest to it. They were clearly afraid of Will, respectful, and cowering. Soundwave… was just studying him. Even with the scorched features and the visored optics Lennox could still discern some facial movement. None of the injuries sustained would be able to really keep him down for long.

Will’s eyes were on the mech’s forehead, seeing the string of writing on the metal. None of the glyphs jumped out at him like it had with Hot Rod. He could discern ‘synergy’ and something about Soundwave’s high-ranking status. Weirdly enough it looked like the writing was mirrored on the other side, just with miniscule differences.

Suddenly Soundwave nodded once. “Prime,” he said evenly.

Will showed no reaction to the address, but something inside him curled up tightly. He gritted his teeth. Bubbles appeared between his fingers.

“Bearer of the Matrix.”

Still Will kept his silence.

The Decepticon slightly bowed his head. “Defeat: admitted.”

“You’ll leave?” Lennox clarified.

Brief silence. “Affirmative.”

“And you won’t come back? This is over?”

It got him a deepening of the red optics. “Yes. We will leave,” the communications specialist answered, never looking away. “I will accept my defeat by the avatar of the Matrix.”

Lennox didn’t feel any kind of triumph. He was too tense for that. And he also wondered what the heck Soundwave was talking about.

“Leave,” he said coolly, almost making it a command.

Another bow of the head. The symbiotes chattered and warbled anxiously, cold fear evident. It was so strange to have them afraid of a simple hybrid human. Will didn’t know whether this was just a game or not.

“You are a Prime,” Soundwave stated. “Position: understood. Status: untouchable. Powers: incalculable. Risk: too high.”

Will felt surprise flash through him. He flexed his fingers, energy crackling along the rune-covered digits. Untouchable? Hardly.

Soundwave opened the different compartments for his symbiotes to attach to and the small mechs quickly did so, clicking and chattering in relief. Lennox shivered under the unreadable stare. Soundwave was giving him the creeps.

“We will meet again, Avatar Prime,” Soundwave finally said.

Who?

“Yeah, well, I’m not looking forward to it,” he said out loud.

The Decepticon’s optics brightened very briefly. “Neither am I.”

It almost made Will laugh, though he hardly felt like laughing.

And then Soundwave transformed, shedding flakes of metal and paint, and shot off. He was heading for the outer atmosphere and Will’s sharp eyes were able to follow him until the clouds swallowed the Cybertronian jet-form.

Lennox shuddered in relief. He turned to the motionless form of his partner, scanning over the prone body, then looked around the battle-scarred landscape, assessing the situation he was in. From their last position before the attack he had to be about two hours from Yuma, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by desert.

Molten desert, he concluded. Whatever he had released, it had been almost apocalyptic.

Will looked at his hands, the runes stationary and bright. The others were moving all over his armored arms and body. When he flexed his fingers, tiny bubbles emerged and hissed softly, popping out of existence with a sparkle of energy. He didn’t feel very drained right now. The dizziness had disappeared and his strength was coming back. He was recovering pretty quickly.

A cloud at the horizon alerted him to approach of something or someone. Preparing himself for another fight, he scanned the approaching form and only relaxed when he could identify the vehicle as Prowl, followed by Sideswipe and Jolt.

“Thank God…” he whispered and let the weapons disappear, the bubbles disperse – and how the heck could he suddenly do that when the past year he had struggled not to blow himself into a mountainside each time?

Apparently near-death and stress situations solved a few things, while bringing up a whole new set of problems, too.

“What in the name of Cybertron’s Pits happened here?” Sideswipe exclaimed as he transformed. His weapons were out and he was quickly looking around for any kind of enemy.

Prowl didn’t speak many words, he simply called Yuma for help. Lennox didn’t step aside when the tactician approached, taking in the damage done to Ironhide. Blue optics met ice-blue ones.

“What happened?” Prowl demanded.

“Soundwave happened,” Lennox answered levelly.

Sideswipe growled and Jolt quickly looked around the devastated landscape.

“He’s gone,” Will added. “If you can believe him for good.”

Prowl’s optics narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” Sideswipe wanted to know.

“Yeah. Ironhide was the one who took the brunt of the attack.”

Because he had been the target. Because Soundwave had wanted Will, not Ironhide. Ironhide had been collateral damage.

“His spark is still on-line,” Prowl stated, scanning their friend.

Will gritted his teeth. He knew that. He felt it. He just wanted to get out of here, get Ironhide to Ratchet.

“Man, you really let loose,” Jolt murmured, walking cautiously over the slick ground.

Will tried not to think about it. He had recreated the landscape around him.

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The Constructicons and two Chinook helicopters arrived half an hour later, losing no more words than necessary as they prepared Ironhide for transport. Ironhide was lifted off the ground, wrapped in tarp, and Will shivered a little as the motionless form was flown away. Scavenger gave him a once-over.

“You can’t change back?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“I haven’t tried so far,” he replied truthfully.

The other mech hummed softly. “Ratchet is coming to Yuma and is already on his way. If you won’t transform you’ll have to be airlifted.”

Long Haul walked up to them. “Me or Mixmaster can change our camouflage form and get him to base.”

Scavenger didn’t look happy about that, clearly. Will knew why. If he was unable to change shape, something might have happened to him. Scavenger wanted to know if this was a conscious decision or instinct. If it was instinct, he might be stuck as a protoform as long as he couldn’t let his guard down, as long as he felt like he had to defend himself.

Lennox tried to calm himself, consciously initiate the change, and finally the world was a lot different, though he was only marginally so. He might no longer look like a protoform, but his skin hadn’t lost the Allspark looks. Neither had his eyes lost their ice blue glow.

Scavenger gave a nod of approval and transformed, opening a door to let him get inside. Prowl and Sideswipe had already disappeared to accompany Ironhide, and only the Constructicons and Jolt had remained here. Hook, Mixmaster and Jolt would take care of the battlefield; the others would get Lennox to Yuma.

“Relax,” Scavenger said softly. “You’ll be with your bonded soon.”

Will felt something that came close to annoyance jitter through him. Scavenger seemed to sense it because he hummed in a mixture of amusement and apology.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence.


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Kangchenjunga, the third highest mountain on this planet. Soundwave had chosen a lonely, cold, ice-ridden place to hide and give himself and his symbiotes time to think and recover. Situated in the Himalayans, between India and Nepal, the mountain range was as good a refuge as any other place. Because of its remote location in Nepal and difficult access from India, at least up here he wouldn’t be stumbled over without getting advance warning. He was shielded quite well against satellite sweeps, though if Blaster were truly looking for him, Soundwave wasn’t safe anywhere.

Cold winds whipped over the plateau he had chosen to rest on. He had a good view of the peeks surrounding him and Soundwave had to admit that the pristine beauty of this place was more calming than he would have thought. The cold didn’t affect him. His kind could travel through space without suffering in any way, so the Himalayan temperatures would have no effect either.

He had aimed to kill the Autobot, but the matrix bearer had stopped him; had actually defeated him. It was a new feeling, one he couldn’t categorize. Respect was one of the emotions he felt. Some would swear every oath that Soundwave was incapable of feeling, but they would be wrong. The bond to his symbiotes showed that. He might be their master, but he also cared about every single one of them. They were his warriors and his tools, but also part of him. He hadn’t gone as far as Blaster, sharing part of his spark with them, but they were very close.

Ravage trotted over from where he had scouted around a glacier. He looked more subdued, as they all were. Lazerbeak hadn’t left the group and even Rumble was keeping his runaway mouth shut.

The matrix bearer would have been Soundwave’s ticket to bringing the scattered forces of the Decepticons under his control, but he knew it was a task he would never succeed at. The hybrid wasn’t the Allspark cube itself, he had far less power than it, but he harbored abilities that could wipe Soundwave off the face of this level of existence. He wouldn’t risk it. He wouldn’t risk the lives of so many for something calculated to be a kamikaze mission.

The image of the hybrid was forever burned into his processor. The fierce expression, the wildness, the heavy aura of power. Soundwave had been afraid. Actually, he had been terrified to lose his existence.

“What about Howlback and Squawktalk?” Rumble asked.

Yes. His missing symbiotes were still in stasis at the Autobot base, kept prisoners.

“Acceptable loss,” he answered monotonously.

For now.

Ratbat shook snow off his chassis. He warbled softly to himself. Buzzsaw was perched on a piece of eternal ice, optics distant. He sent a question.

Soundwave rumbled softly. ‘Now what?’ was a very good question. His plans had been proven wrong, even fatal for some, and the Decepticons wouldn’t follow him any more. At least most. Starscream was still out there somewhere, probably trying to establish his own rule over whoever would follow him. The former second-in-command was of no interest to Soundwave.

In a way he was now without a purpose. Cybertron had disappeared, might be destroyed or forever lost or finally nothing but a dead shell. His people were scattered all over the known and unknown universe. The Autobots were trying to survive on this world.

Nothing was as it had been before. The war had changed nothing for the better. The Decepticons weren’t ruling Cybertron; the Allspark was lost; the Autobots were secret refugees on a planet that might one day become their home. And the remaining forces were lost, maybe dead.

Yes, everything had changed. Not according to any plan they had ever had. Megatron was destroyed, and without him the empire had crumbled.

Soundwave might as well try and right his own wrong.

“We will search for Cybertron,” he told his symbiotes.

Optics filled with surprise met his calm gaze.

“You think it survived?” Rumble wanted to know.

“Probability: likely.”

It got him a shrug. It was as good as any task. It would give them something to do and Soundwave the necessary time to observe what happened on this world, especially with the hybrid Prime. He hadn’t yet given up on acquiring that power for himself.

Transforming into his Cybertronian jet mode he let the symbiotes attach themselves to their slots, then left Earth. He kept a low profile as he passed the sensors of the Ark, aware that he was picked up and watched, maybe even tracked by whatever weapons the Constructicons had developed, but he made no hostile moves.

::So, where ya goin’?::

Surprised by Blaster’s open communication Soundwave slowed down marginally. The Autobot had used an old frequency, used by comm specialists throughout the Golden Age of Cybertron. And Blaster was sending almost musical notes, a pleasing, sensual type of communication to a sensitive receptor like Soundwave.

It didn’t relax him, though. The enemy had him targeted and one of them was trying to establish a line of communication.

::Objective: Cybertron:: he allowed the line to be opened.

::Might be a lost cause:: was the careful reply, surrounded by the hum and waves of the symphonious words..

::Possible::

::I know it’s not some kind of guilt on your side, Soundwave. Bored?::

He didn’t answer. For all their differences, they had known each other in the past and they knew part of the other. While Soundwave had refused to let anyone come close to him, aside from those connected to him, he remembered enough about who and what Blaster was. Younger than him, constructed at a much later time, he had become one of the most prominent communication experts. There had been many, but as Soundwave had stood out, so had Blaster. Soundwave had been a unique spark in a unique body, he had honed his abilities and his mind, and Blaster could have become his heir. He had decided to join the Autobots.

Soundwave felt nothing, neither rage nor hatred. He had accepted the younger mech’s choice.

::Yeah, well, good luck. See ya around::

As if he wished for it, ran through Soundwave’s mind, but he sent a final note through the connection, then cut all comm lines. Heading for the edge of the solar system, past where he had so foolishly believed in his own superior intellect and built a space bridge, he let his scanners pick up whatever had been left of Cybertron’s energy trail. He knew that it hadn’t reappeared at its old position. Only a million more coordinates to check then.

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Hook, Mixmaster and Jolt had remained at the site of the battle and had taken scans and probes. Hook was puzzling over the read-outs.

“This is more than he ever released before,” Mixmaster remarked quietly.

The other Constructicon nodded. “But contained. He didn’t destroy the landscape just like that. He kept it within a certain range.”

Jolt came over to them. “Lots of residual energy still around,” he told them. “I could recharge on the stuff I feel here.”

Able to absorb electricity of any kind to recharge or to use as a weapon, Jolt was quite sensitive to the residuals around them. Hook believed him if he claimed it was enough to recharge him. He had known mechs like Jolt in the past and they had been a rare appearance among their kind. Since it was an unconventional intake of energon and required electrical storms, it had never caught on. Cybertron hadn’t been known for a lot of weather.

Here on Earth Jolt had an advantage. He absorbed electricity generated by the weather on this planet and easily refueled.

“Looks like our Prime grew up a little more,” Mixmaster remarked with a grin.

Hook gave a jerky nod. “He has always grown, but this is… excessive, Mixmaster. What he did was far beyond what I predicted he might achieve within the next decade or two.”

“It concerned his bonded,” Jolt spoke up, blue optics serious. “I’ve never been that close to anyone and can’t relate, but I can imagine.”

Hook looked pensive. Something didn’t add up. The charge that Will had released should have burned a hole kilometers deep into this planet, or spread a lot wider. It should have incinerated Soundwave and the symbiotes. It should have done a whole lot more damage than a square kilometer of molten desert.

“Are you done?” he asked Mixmaster.

“All recorded and stored. We can start bringing in the clean up crew.”

Hook sent the signal back to base. They had to change this landscape back into a desert with sand, not glass, and it would take them all night to do so, but there would be no traces left in the morning.

As for Will Lennox, he would have to talk to the hybrid. Something had happened that they didn’t know about yet.

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Lennox watched Ratchet work on Ironhide, the medic’s moves sure and rather calming, despite the gruesome task. Ironhide’s armor had been removed, exposing the structure underneath, and the spark chamber had been opened to prying eyes. Will was looking at the pulsing spark, the heart and soul of his partner, mesmerized. The treatment room had been locked down for the procedure and sterilized. Only Ratchet was allowed inside. Even Sam had to remain on the other side of the protective walls. The technopath was watching it all with a look of concentration on his face.

“He’s fine,” Sam suddenly said, looking up at Will.

Lennox was still in his battle mode and he had yet to relinquish control and become his human self again. Part of him was still wound up so tightly, and ready to blast an enemy to smithereens, it was a small wonder he hadn’t shot any of the approaching mechs or humans. Maybe Sam was here to keep an eye on the hybrid, too. Strangely, Lennox appreciated it.

Gazing at his reflection he tried to ignore the blatantly obvious Prime glyph on his temple, but it was impossible. The color of fresh gold it seemed to glow, obvious for everyone. And everyone among the mechs was giving him surreptitious looks.

After what seemed like hours Ratchet finally closed up the spark chamber and looked up, nodding at the watchers. Optimus Prime had joined them in the last half hour and he returned the nod. Ratchet hooked Ironhide up to the necessary feeds, then opened the chamber and walked outside.

“He needs time to recover,” the medic said without preamble. “The damage was extensive, but nothing was destroyed. I repaired his spark chamber and stabilized it.”

Lennox relaxed a little more.

“I predict forty-eight hours for him to come back from this, more for his body to take care of matters completely. Soundwave apparently only meant to incapacitate him.”

“He did,” Lennox said darkly. “More than incapacitate. I thought he was dead.”

“Yes. But it was nothing that couldn’t be repaired.”

“Thank you, Ratchet,” Optimus rumbled, then gave Will a meaningful look.

The new ‘Prime’ nodded. He knew there was a debriefing waiting for him – despite the fact that he had no idea what had really happened. Instinct was a bitch in that regard.

It came as no great surprise that Sam followed them and Rodimus was already waiting in the room Optimus had claimed as his office. Yuma was currently host to a lot of mechs, as well as military personnel that took care of security.

Optimus turned to Will, the ancient blue optics giving the hybrid a slight chill. It was like looking into an abyss he knew he would never get out of.

“What’s wrong?” he heard himself ask, everything inside him clamoring that something had happened.

Optimus heaved a rattling sigh. “I do not believe that something is wrong, Will. Please tell me what happened.”

And Lennox did. He told everyone about leaving Yuma base, about the trap, Ironhide down for the count, and his leaky memories concerning what had happened next.

“Soundwave just left?” Sam blurted.

Lennox shrugged. “Yeah. He told me it’s too great a risk for him to attack me, a Prime, and that he accepts his defeat.”

“Soundwave is a highly logical mech,” Rodimus threw in. “He tried it twice and lost twice. I doubt he goes by the saying that the third time’s the charm. He knows you’re too powerful. His symbiotes would probably swear unwavering loyalty to you if you had ordered them to. You might even have swayed him to be an ally.”

“He also called me Avatar Prime.”

Rodimus looked surprised, as did Sam, but Optimus’ optics flared briefly.

“Avatar of the Matrix, to be precise.”

“You bear the matrix code,” the Autobot leader said softly. “You are part of the Allspark, even if only a small part. Avatar means embodiment, representation, manifestation. You are all that.”

“As are you! Sam was marked by the Allspark too!”

“And he is a Prime by its heritage,” Optimus conceded.

“Right,” the technopath in question murmured. “What kind of Prime? Geeky Prime? Fleshling Prime?”

Rodimus shot him a quirky smile. “We’ll find something for you, don’t’cha worry, Sam.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“So now I have a Prime name?” Lennox asked, not happy.

“You already had one. You are Will Lennox. It is your name, am I correct?” Optimus sounded slightly amused.

Lennox glared at him. “Soundwave named me.”

“No. He called you by your Cybertronian name,” Optimus corrected him. “Avatar Prime.”

“Thrilled.”

“Join the club,” Rodimus remarked.

“I believe that something has finally come to life within you that will change the future,” Optimus said, voice rather ominous.

“W-what?” The fear was back. Big time.

“You were blessed with part of the Allspark’s powers, my friend. You were given the status of Prime, were appointed the Matrix. All four of us share something, Will Lennox, now even more than before.”

“What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“We knew something happened,” Rodimus said quietly. “We felt it.”

“Felt?” Lennox echoed.

Sam only nodded, eyes very serious. “It was like I knew you were in danger, Will. We all did, though in different degrees.”

“We share the heritage of the Primes,” Optimus said in way of an explanation. “We apparently share a certain awareness of each other’s situation as well.” A small smile flickered over the otherwise serious features. “At least life-threatening situations.”

“That’s why Prowl and the others came in so fast,” Lennox said.

“Yes. Sam was at Yuma at the time. He alerted Scavenger to your problem.”

Lennox hat to sit down. “Well, shit,” he murmured.

“Quite the contrary, Will,” Optimus objected. “It is helpful. It eases another burden. We can’t be there all the time to protect each other. This way, at least, we have an alarm system.”

Lennox grimaced. “Uh-huh. The Allspark heritage is so full of surprises.”

Rodimus grinned. “Kinda. At least it doesn’t work whenever one of us is on an emotional high or something like it. Might get embarrassing soon.”

Sam cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable, and Will knew just what the technopath was thinking about. Yeah, having his intimate encounters with Ironhide shared with three others would be… a mood killer.

“Why are you still in battle mode?” Rodimus asked, breaking into his thoughts.

“Uhm. Well… I changed back to drive with Scavenger, but it happened the moment I came back to base. Right now I’m a bit lacking in control.”

Optimus studied him. “You’ll have to learn then.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Prime placed a hand on Will’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “We are all growing into this, Will. Soundwave triggered an avalanche, but nothing we can’t handle.”

Rodimus nodded. “We’ll work this out. It’s what we’re good at.” He gave Will a cheerful smile.

The former Army Ranger snorted. “Yeah, right. All I’ve done so far is winging it. Why would this be any different?”

“That’s the spirit!”

Sam chuckled.

There was a soft beep and Optimus Prime touched his left temple, listening. He looked up, surprise reflecting in his optics.

“Blaster reported in. Soundwave has left Earth and is heading out of this solar system. According to his last communication he will be looking for Cybertron.”

“He talked to Blaster?” Sam asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes.”

“So he’s gone for good?”

“For now.”

“Small favors,” Lennox muttered and got up. “I’ll be with Hide.”

Without waiting for a comment he just left. No one tried to stop him.

Sam exchanged a brief look with Optimus, sending a wordless question. He received a nod and went after their friend.

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Ratchet had waited until Lennox had left, then sent a brief request for a meeting to Optimus. He was immediately told to come in.

“Ratchet,” his leader greeted him.

The medic nodded, then noticed Rodimus’ presence as well. It wasn’t unwanted; actually, this concerned all of them, even Sam and Will, but he wanted to talk to these two first. Mainly because Will was the reason.

“Ironhide should be permanently off-line,” he now said bluntly.

Rodimus straightened a little, looking alarmed, and even Optimus showed confusion.

“Explain,” the elder Prime demanded.

“Soundwave didn’t aim to incapacitate, Optimus. He aimed to kill. He penetrated Ironhide’s armor and cracked the spark casing. It wouldn’t have been that bad if the second blow hadn't actually exposed the spark and made it vulnerable to a last, final and fatal blow.”

“That third blast happened?”

“Yes. The spark was dead, Optimus.”

“Impossible,” Rodimus murmured.

“I would agree, but then I know that Jazz was off-lined as well. Permanently. And I was able to revive his spark – with a few memory leaks.”

“Because of the Allspark,” Optimus nodded.

Rodimus’ optics flared. “Lennox.”

“He doesn’t have Allspark powers,” Optimus argued.

“No. At least he never showed them. He was never confronted with the death of his bonded either,” Ratchet told them. “I accessed Ironhide’s memory core; at first for purely medical reasons.”

Ratchet’s own processor and peripheral systems had been created to store another batch of memories if necessary. Working on seriously injured mechs required for quick downloads lest memories were forever lost through trauma. It was also used to determine what had happened in those last moments before the injury if the mech couldn’t recall the events.

“I went into the last minutes before he off-lined,” the medic went on. “I believe whatever happened, it was triggered by Ironhide’s death.”

Using the 3-D holographic projector, Ratchet replayed what Ironhide’s optics had recorded before permanent shut-down had occurred. It was a miniature show of actual events, downscaled to give them a better overview.

Rodimus whirred in horror and surprise, Optimus rumbled softly. Both Primes stood side by side, optics fixed on the scenes playing out before them.

It was from Ironhide’s point of view, showing them the menacing form of Soundwave approaching Will Lennox.

Will changed into battle mode.

Energy collected in his hands.

Bubbles climbed up his arms.

They were released and screamed at Soundwave, who was caught in the chest and pushed back, but he didn’t fall.

The image flickered.

Ratchet zoomed in on Will turning to look at Ironhide, terror in his ice blue eyes.

Another flicker.

The image blurred.

Lennox screamed something and then…

…just before everything went out there was an explosion of enormous proportions, with Lennox at the epicenter. For a whole second there was just darkness, then the optics came back online.

“He didn’t record the next events consciously,” Ratchet said softly. “This was on automatic as Ironhide rebooted.”

And they saw Will, in protoform mode, standing in the valley of burned and molten desert, an incredible sight to behold. He was still his normal protoform size and shape, but the skin was… this was the Allspark, right down to the last rune. Not something moving under his skin or tattooing certain parts. He was the Allspark in human form.

And like an illusion, the image collapsed, as did Lennox, and he was simply a dark gray and black protoform, fingers scraping over the glassy earth, shaking like a leaf. Around him blue energy crackled, bubbles formed and popped into nothingness, and then even that was gone.

“The same energy I registered in Ironhide’s spark chamber,” Ratchet said into the silence, looking at the two Primes whose optics were fixed on the frozen image of Will Lennox. “Will didn’t touch him. Well, not physically.”

“Then what happened?” Optimus asked, voice deep and rumbling.

“All I can think of calling it would be a remote… reactivation.”

“How?” Rodimus demanded.

“That we need to find out. Right now my only explanation is the bond between them. It isn’t a Cybertronian spark-bond like Jazz and Barricade share. It’s something new and alien to us. I believe it formed because of the Allspark shard inside Will. I think it’s more than just an expression of their closeness. This might be able to give… feedback.”

Ratchet shrugged, unable to come up with a better term.

“Feedback? Like… energy?” the younger Prime hazarded a guess.

“Possible. Like I said, we’d have to look into it, and I can’t scan Will. He’s immune to scans of any kind.”

“We have never encountered anything like this before,” Optimus said thoughtfully. “Like so many things that happened in this planet.”

“Will is unique. As are Sam and Tony. They all were influenced by the Allspark, one way or another, but only Will absorbed the last shard,” Ratchet said. “We can only guess when it concerns him. The facts I know are that Ironhide should be dead, that his spark actually died, and that something brought him back. Compared to Jazz it was different. We all know that Will isn’t the Cube and that he never revived anyone, nor created sparks. I would suspect this is something more personal.”

“But he can’t remember the events,” Rodimus threw in.

Ratchet nodded. “He might never. He acted on desperation, fear and whatever power slept inside him.”

“We need to tell him,” Rodimus argued. “This concerns him and Ironhide. Maybe together we can figure this out.”

Ratchet nodded again. “I wanted you to know first.”

“Thank you,” Optimus replied.

Ratchet left with a brief inclination of his head.

The two Primes looked at each other, both aware of the implications.

“To quote a human: well, shit,” Rodimus finally said.

Optimus nodded, optics distant.

“You think he is developing Allspark abilities?”

“No. I believe that whatever connected him and Ironhide from the day they met, it has now been confirmed as something extraordinary.”

“You can say that again.” Rodimus slumped back against the wall, shaking his head. “He brought Ironhide back!”

“The energy he can control is far beyond our understanding, and his. What he was given by the Allspark is the most powerful manifestation of all abilities.”

“Unless it’s not yet over, which I hope it is but wouldn't bet on,” Rodimus muttered.

It got him a brief smile and he smiled back.

“Now what?”

“We let things happen as they do. We can’t influence what happens to Will or because of him. I am just relieved that he has found a way to defeat his personal demon.”

Rodimus’ optics narrowed a little and he nodded. “You really think Soundwave’s gone for good?”

“For now,” the older Prime only rumbled.

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Will hadn’t left the examination room since the time he had come from the debriefing. His mind was swirling with thoughts, but he tried not to dwell on all he had been told. He simply waited for Ironhide to get better.

“It will take a while for him to come online,” Ratchet had told him.

He knew that. And he would wait. Inside the medical room he was like in a world of his own. No one came in, aside from Ratchet, and no one was bothering him.

It gave him breathing space, but also too much opportunity to think. His mind wanted to go over the events again and again. And again and again he refused.

Still, memories came back. Violent memories. He saw the attacking form of Soundwave, looming over him, the symbiotes circling carefully. He recalled throwing a few energy balls at the communications specialist, but he hadn't done much damage.

And then something had happened. It had been like part of him dying.

Ironhide’s spark stuttering.

Ravage too close to the motionless Autobot.

And then the spark had died. He knew it had. He had felt acute pain in his chest, like something was tearing him apart, severing a… bond.

And Will had lost it. Pain and desperation, fear and terror, had all combined and let him blow something at Soundwave that had off-lined the Decepticon and pushed the symbiotes away as if they had been caught in a tidal wave.

Lennox had blacked out then. There was nothing but floating in nothingness, not really unconscious, but also not all there. He had been detached from it all, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, but still aware.

Will clenched his hands into fists.

And then there had been the other presence. Weak and still further declining, so familiar, and he had reached for it.

The power surge had been incredible. It had been like he had been someone else, like he had become something else. He had felt it draw close around him, hot and heavy, with the electric tingle of a rising storm.

He had been two parts all of a sudden, merging together, along the bond, and he had felt the other spark come alive once more. It had been triumph and desperation, love and need, fear and terror. And he had embraced the spark, feeling the familiar pulses, unable to let go.

‘Prime’, something whispered.

But he wasn’t. Optimus wasn’t like this. Rodimus wasn’t like this. Soundwave had called him Avatar. In a way it was who he was: a symbol, an embodiment, a stand-in for something else.

The door to the medical room opened and Will looked down at Sam. The technopath gave him a raised eyebrow and Lennox simply picked him up to deposit the smaller human on the edge of the second table.

“I won’t ask how you are,” Sam simply said. “I know without even taking a peek, but Ratchet said Ironhide will be fine.”

Will nodded.

“I just thought you might want a friendly face.”

He chuckled. “Someone who’s not trying to figure out what the hell is happening to me again?”

“Someone who can relate,” was the wry reply. “We both get things thrown at us that we don’t want, never would want even if we’d know about them, and we have no clue what’s going to happen next.”

“Well, I’m ahead of you right now,” Lennox commented wryly. “I’ve got a Cybertronian name to go with the heritage of Prime.”

Sam pulled his legs up and rested his elbows on them. “None too bad sounding,” he said. “Avatar Prime. Beats something as obvious as Williamus Prime.”

“Ow, bad, Sam!” Lennox groaned.

“Major Prime? Ranger Prime? Lennoximus Prime?” Sam was laughing now.

“Right. Witwickimus Prime.”

“Argh, no way!”

Blue optics sparkled and the hybrid heard himself chuckle despite his dark mood. “Watch out or it will happen.”

“Won’t. I’d rather choose a name myself.”

“Like?”

“Give me a few years to think about that.”

“The way things keep happening, I doubt you have a few years.”

“At least everything didn’t happen at once,” the technopath told him. “Evolution is preferable to getting everything dumped on you in one go. I know what I’m talking about. Technopathy is only fun in sci-fi novels. Reality sucks.”

“Yeah, I understand. Same thing about living body tattoos.”

Sam suddenly grinned. “Listen to us. Two old men complaining about life.”

“We’re Statler and Waldorf, alright.”

The grinned at each other.

“Mind if I stay here for a while?” Sam wanted to know.

“No. Company’s nice.”

Sam briefly ran a superficial check on Ironhide, then gave Will a reassuring nod. “He’ll be fine.”

“I know. Hide’s hard to bring down and even harder to keep down. Ratchet said he could on-line him, but it’s better for the spark to rest a little while before bringing all systems up once more.”

“Sensible,” Sam agreed. “His spark took quite a beating. As did all the other systems. He’ll be his old self again. Speaking of which…?”

“Oh, don’t you start, too!” Lennox groused. “I don’t feel like my normal self, okay?”

Sam raised his hands. “Okay. No sweat. Just… offering.”

“Appreciated, but not right now.”

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Sam spent the next hours with him, both men talking about this and that, sometimes just sitting quietly. On and off Sam would scan Ironhide, reassure Will that things were fine.

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“You’re in battle form,” Ironhide remarked when he was allowed to exit the medical room.

Ratchet had examined him from top to bottom, inside out, left to right, and declared him fit for duty. He might have a few sore systems and his energon levels weren’t one hundred percent for now, but he was okay to leave the close optics of the medic.

His memories of the events after the sudden explosion that had separated him and Will were sketchy, close to non-existent. Ratchet had calmed him, had told him that he had restored some of those files and would release them to Ironhide when he was completely stable once more.
Somehow that had sounded… strange.

Lennox shrugged. “Got stuck.”

It got him a rumble of disbelief. “Have you slept?”

“Didn’t need to.”

“Liar.”

Yeah, maybe. He was tired, but he hadn’t felt safe or relaxed enough to do anything about it. He was in a friendly base, surrounded by allies and friends, and still…

Ironhide had nearly died.

A large hand cupped his cheek and made him look into the so familiar blue optics.

“Change, rest, recharge, then we can talk.”

“Talk?”

A thumb traced over his cheek. “Prime,” Ironhide only remarked.

Okay, so he had a permanent glyph there. The same Optimus had. And Rodimus.

“Don’t call me that.”

Ironhide tilted his head a little and smiled. “Sleep.”

Will felt his body shiver at the deep timbre that would sound suggestive any other day, but right now he felt his mind shut down and give in to the gentle command. He changed size and Ironhide carefully picked him up. Lennox didn’t protest. He just leaned against the metal armor that felt warmer than metal should, and closed his eyes.

He was out like a light before they had even left the observation lounge.

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Ironhide had watched his partner sleep for about an hour, then left the hybrid alone. Will wouldn’t wake for a while; he was too exhausted.

He knew Ratchet had removed and stored some of the most important memories, something Ironhide had gone through before. He had had too many of those downloads in the past; war did that to a mech. At least he was still alive to remember it.

Ratchet calmly connected to the weapons specialist and Ironhide let the files transfer. They in turn triggered saved files from a different partition and his optics flared at what he was finally able to recall.


Will in the middle of a field of destruction.

Energy radiating off him.

So much power, so much…

Ironhide was fading, but he was looking at the embodiment of the Allspark, at his partner… a Prime…


Ironhide shivered and met the calm, knowing gaze of Ratchet.

“Did you tell Will?” he demanded.

“No. He can’t remember details and we want him rested before we can break the news.”

Ironhide was silent, letting the memories run by again and again. “What happened?”

Ratchet venting air in what sounded like a sigh. “Optimus asked that I inform the two of you together.”


Energy. Will displacing rock and mechs alike.

For him.

Because of him.

And energy surging into his… spark.


Ironhide stopped there. He shut down the memory recall and just nodded at Ratchet.

“I’ll be with Will,” he simply rumbled.

“Of course.”

Ironhide walked down the corridor, heading back to the human quarters.

Will had saved him somehow. He knew it. Without Ratchet telling him, he knew there had been more to his damage than simple blaster shots.

He touched his heavily armored spark chamber; once again heavily armored.

Something had happened.

Something…

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Lennox slept for almost twelve hours and woke up in his hybrid human body, glyphs all over his skin, but muted in color, and a new permanent one on his left temple and spreading toward his cheek bone.

“Prime,” Ironhide read, his hardlight form a rather comforting addition to the bed. He might not radiate the warmth of a human body, but touching the holographic form was… weirdly nice.

The matrix code was still there as well, as was the tattoo around Will’s wrist spelling his partner’s name. What had disappeared was the writing down his neck.

Ironhide’s touch grew more playful and arousing and Will didn’t object. In fact, he was craving it. He wanted it. He wanted to feel and lose himself in his bonded. He didn’t want to think about the continuing changes, all the shit happening to him and around him. He wanted to just be himself, be with his partner, be everything and everyone but a Prime.

The holoform shuddered as the runes grew more intense. They had never told anyone about this, how interactive their encounters in these forms were, and Will didn’t want to be scanned – with little to no readable results – by Ratchet because of their sex life. Or whatever it might be called.

Feeling the energy build up between them, Will let go of everything, just… was.

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Matters had calmed only a little for Will. His memories were sketchy and kept bothering him when he tried to catch some rest. He knew something had happened, he felt it in his connection to Ironhide. It was almost embarrassing how he stuck to his mech partner. He couldn’t help it. Feeling Ironhide close was calming. He didn’t need physical contact; visual was okay.

Gawd, he felt like such an idiot!

Ironhide’s glanced his way now and then, and the fine smile told Will that his partner knew.

The past three nights Lennox had spent either awake and with his partner, or asleep close to him.

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In a way the news about what had happened, what had really happened, didn’t shock Lennox as much as it would have a few years ago. Maybe it was just the amount of changes, or events, or terrible and amazing things that had happened to him or around him. Maybe it was just the acceptance that his evolution from human to something no one could define and they all simply called ‘hybrid’ wasn’t finished. Maybe it was just that his state-of-mind couldn’t deal with the horror right now.

“…which means the bond between you and Ironhide needs further exploration,” Ratchet finished.

“No,” he stated flatly, looking into the blue optics.

“Will…”

“I said no,” he repeated forcefully. “It’s something private between me and Ironhide, something you call rare and even sacred! You didn’t go about poking around the spark-bond shared between Jazz and Barricade!”

“Well, no. It’s different.”

“Of course it is! They are the same species!” Will snarled angrily. “Well, sorry, but interspecies bonds are the same! I’m not going to let you probe around!”

Ironhide rumbled softly. “What he said,” he told his friend and medic.

“But…”

Optimus placed a silencing hand on the other mech’s shoulder. “I respect your right for privacy,” he told Lennox. “And I agree with your argument. This cements a bond no one of us or your own kind can understand, one that is as different from Jazz and Barricade’s as it is from Sam and Bumblebee’s.”

“Thank you,” Will said, voice level. “I know the whole resurrection thing is freaky. Believe me, I AM freaking. Not right now, but later on. I can’t remember much, but what I do remember is scary enough. And from what I felt… this was a one time thing. Because of Ironhide.”

The mech in question gave a soft whirr. Will briefly touched one black-armored leg and runes danced gently over the fingers where they touched the metal.

Ratchet made a sound of disapproval, but he didn’t push any further.

“This changes nothing about who you are, Will,” Optimus said, surprising the hybrid.

“No? No speech about the Allspark and its powers?”

“I think you told us often enough that you’re not the Allspark, Will,” Prime replied, a smile audible in his voice.

“Took you long enough to remember it.”

“You are a Prime,” Optimus went on. “As such, you are what your people would call my brother. I trust you. I hope you can return this trust.”

Will swallowed, staring at him. “You never lost my trust, Optimus,” he said quietly.

“Then trust me when I say that what happened between you and Ironhide will remain a private matter. I believe that your action and the reaction were born out of fear and terror, that it completed a bond that no one can fully understand.”

Optimus met Ratchet’s gaze, a firm warning in his optics. The medic nodded his acceptance.

“Terror hits the spot,” Lennox murmured.

Optimus went down on one knee, leaning forward. He held out a hand and Will reached for the massive finger, touching it gently.

::We share a lot, Will Lennox, aside from the heritage of ‘Prime’:: he heard Optimus’ voice inside his head. ::We share a destiny. We share the joy and the burden. I need you all. Rodimus, Sam, you… and Tony.::

::Stark’s going to be so happy::

It got him a wave of amusement. ::Probably. But I need you. I always have. A Prime cannot lead alone. You cannot exist without Ironhide. It is a different, much more powerful and very much eternal bond, but not too far from what we are together::

Lennox couldn’t tear his gaze from the ancient optics.

::Thank you, Will Lennox::

He swallowed as he briefly felt Prime’s power, then the connection was gone and Optimus rose once more.

“Thank you,” Will only whispered.

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Ironhide had left Yuma with Will sitting in the driver’s seat. They had been silent for the long stretch of the 95 North, heading for Las Vegas in general and the Nevada base in particular. For now Will just stared out of the window, not seeing much. As night fell, Ironhide pulled off the 95 and along Cottonwood Road to Lake Mohave.

“Do you want to look for a room?”

Will smiled dimly. “You serious?”

“The hologram could work for a few minutes.”

“No. I’m not tired, Hide.”

The Topkick rolled to a stop next to a shed that was used for roadside vegetable and fruit sales in the summer months. Now it was abandoned.

“Ratchet restored the files containing my last memories before I blacked out,” Ironhide said.

Will stared out the window, then sighed.

“I can feel you, Will.”

Lennox’s head came up sharply. “What?!”

The hardlight hologram came into existence and Ironhide gazed at him, a strange expression in his human face.

“I can feel the connection, Will,” he clarified. “It was what saved me. It was what created the feedback.”

“The bond,” Lennox murmured.

He looked at his fingers. Runes rose to the surface. Ironhide reached out and took the fingers, curling his own around them. The runes seemed to swirl with pleasure. A smile appeared on the hardlight form’s lips.

“Bond,” Ironhide translated.

“Yeah.”

Energy rose with the runes, making the mech shiver. It was like a tremor running through the whole chassis. Lennox smiled a little.

“Thank you, Will,” Ironhide said. “For my life.”

“Our lives.”

When had they become so intense? When had Will started to feel more for Ironhide than he had ever felt for his ex-wife? How had their relationship turned into a bond rivaling Sam’s and even Jazz and Barricade’s?

Ironhide pulled him closer, hands running over his chest, sliding under the leather jacket. Lennox felt something curl inside him. It was pleasure and need, and intense gratefulness. Something thrummed between them and Will felt the pulses of Ironhide’s spark around him as if he was facing the open spark chamber directly. Instead he simply sensed it.

“Hide…”

Ironhide shook his head.

This was new for them both, but still more familiar than it should be. It was a next level in their connection, bringing them closer than a spark-bond could.

“I felt you die,” Will blurted.

“I was dead.”

“And it was… as if I had… died.”

There was a smile on the holographic features and Ironhide leaned forward, resting his forehead against Lennox’s.

“We are alive.”

They were. And it was because of what Will had done. He had revived a dead spark, the spark of his bonded, like Ratchet had revived Jazz so many years ago. Barricade hadn’t felt Jazz’s death, despite their spark-bond. He had only experienced the loss of a partner emotionally. Lennox had experienced it physically.

“Think we need to research this?” Will murmured after a while, slightly distracted by the fingers tracing runes over the skin that had been exposed by those deft fingers.

“I doubt you can find an entry anywhere.”

“Might be something in the old archive files. About the Primes.”

Ironhide laughed softly, pushing him onto the leather seats. His eyes seemed to glow a darker blue.

“Right.” He leaned forward, straddling Will. “Prime.”

“Hide…” Will let a warning bleed into his voice.

Ironhide grinned. The next words were in Cybertronian and two were Will’s new title, but the rest had his eyes widen.

“Hm, I knew you understood the basics,” Ironhide rumbled as he leaned forward.

“I thought your people didn’t go by those emotions,” Lennox finally managed.

“We might not. I do. The others might call me old and unable to adapt as easily as the younger generation of speed devils, but as Optimus said: things have changed since we came here.”

They looked at each other, aware of so much between them now. So much connected them and so much was still weaving them tighter together.

Lennox placed a hand against Ironhide’s chest and watched the runes flare brightly. He smiled at the shiver racing across the hardlight form. With an almost evil smile he let energy flow gently into the contact point and Ironhide’s whole body trembled.

“We've got some time,” Lennox murmured.

Yes, they had. And they would use it.

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Barricade had kept a close optic on his spark-bonded. He knew what had happened to Ironhide, what Lennox had done, and it had set off alarms.

Jazz was his usual, laid-back and cool self. There was no sudden silence, no pulling away, no pondering of the sky in a lonely place. Jazz was Jazz, which alarmed Barricade even more. Sure, Ironhide had no apparent memory leaks. He didn’t seem to suffer from glitches or dark holes. He was his usual self.

Still…

He caught his bonded outside the base in the cool morning air as Jazz was typing something or other onto a mobile pad. Blue optics covered by a visor shield looked up and a grin appeared on the familiar features.

“Hey, Cade. Come to enjoy the morning?”

He rumbled something and studied the silver form. No sign of any kind of negative mood.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Work. And silence.”

“Silence,” Barricade echoed, letting disbelief bleed into his voice.

“You hear anything?”

Barricade knew Jazz was listening to earth music, but he hadn’t switched on the speaker system. He narrowed his optics and it got him another wide grin.

Joining the Autobot, Barricade glanced at the mobile pad and decided not to ask. It looked like something Optimus would cc to his second to handle.

::I’m okay, Cade:: Jazz sent, glancing at him.

Barricade didn’t reply, just looked at him.

The visor was raised and Jazz smiled.

::Thanks for worrying::

::I don’t worry::

::Right. You only hover::

Barricade snorted.

Jazz’s finger tips briefly skimmed over black and white hip plating, then the connection was gone.

::Thanks::

Barricade said nothing, simply leaned against the wall and watched his partner work.

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It was almost the same situation like the first time he had planned and executed this hair-raising stunt. One against five. One slender, rather medium-sized protoform hybrid against five very big and massive and battle-skilled Constructicons. Will knew he had gained in abilities and power since then, but he was still too young and too human to truly expect to win this one.

But Scrapper had agreed to run the scenario again, this time with Lennox starting out as a protoform. Mixmaster’s expression had been filled with amusement when they had finished preparations.

“Going to kick your butt, Prime,” he had predicted.

Lennox had smiled grimly. Probably. But he could kick back.

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled and flexed his fingers.

Mixmaster just grinned more and gave him a friendly push to get to his starting position. Will did, feeling nervous. He knew he was more ready than the last time, but still…

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The fight had been rather vicious. With his rising abilities he had also developed a better resiliency. It gave him fire power and speed, though the armor was still lacking. A direct hit by a canon could knock him out easily, if not harm the exostructure. Two blast had already bruised his shoulder and back, and something had clipped his thigh. He was hurt, but not down for the count.

Will fought back. With speed and agility and cunning. He might not be strong enough to take out five opponents for good, but he could keep them at bay.

Unless they tricked him.

And they did.

Laying in the dust, aching all over, he looked into the smirking face of Mixmaster, whose weight was keeping him pinned to the ground. Hook and Scavenger had immobilized his arms and while he could have tried to blow them away with an energy blast, he didn’t. At least he had the satisfaction that he had knocked out Long Haul, scorched Hook and given Scrapper a vicious headache – judging from the expression in the dimmed optics.

Mixmaster shot him a curious look. “Looks like control’s back,” he remarked, then got up.

“Mostly,” Lennox agreed and gave Scavenger an apologetic look. He had blown the armor right off the Constructicon’s left shoulder.

“Five against one is still far beyond you,” Scrapper remarked. “But you’re using your speed and agility better. How tiring were the hits and your own energy bubbles for you?”

“I’m okay,” Will answered. “I could use sleep and something to eat, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“You blacked out when you took on Soundwave,” Hook recalled. “High amounts of energon dispersal knock you out and apparently wipe part of your processor. It’s either a design flaw or a matter of energy release control and recharge.”

“One heck of a design flaw,” Will murmured.

“I doubt it. You’re growing into this, too.” Hook flexed his fingers. One looked curiously like it had been broken.

“I’ll throw a party the day I’ve stopped growing,” Will growled, shaking dust off himself.

Mixmaster grinned. “In a millennium or two then.”

He flicked sand at the larger Constructicon.

“Back to base,” Scrapper ordered.

They transformed and Will initiated his own transformation, though his skin stayed a dark golden and bronze with runes on it. He only shrank down to human size.

“Well done,” Scavenger said quietly as they drove back.

“Thanks.”

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Ironhide had kept an eye on the training session and had been very pleased with Will’s progress. He had grown as a warrior; way beyond his already formidable abilities as an Army Ranger. As a human he had defeated Decepticons, had survived against enemies Ironhide wouldn’t have thought a human could go up against, and now, in his hybrid form, he was becoming powerful. Very powerful.

Yes, he was proud.

Lennox was currently in the shower and from the condition the Constructicons had been in, he would also be black and blue. It would heal quickly, but for the next twenty-four hours Will would move a lot more cautiously.

Fifteen minutes later a carefully moving Will walked out of his quarters, hair damp, calm runes faintly moving over his skin. Ironhide refrained from scanning him, just gave the hybrid a visual once-over.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.”

“Take out or eat in?”

Will grinned. “Grab something from the mess over at the base, then take it outside.”

Ironhide transformed and opened the door. “Sounds like a plan.”

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Nevada was quiet at night. Outside the base the lights were out as to not to alert anyone to the presence of the facility. The darkness hid nothing anyway. The highly sophisticated Cybertronian hybrid technology easily turned night into day and the security detail had no problem spotting any kind of movement.

Away from the base, in the desert, Optimus Prime gazed at the clear sky. It was a cold, cloudless night. The stars were all out and it was a beautiful sight he could enjoy. It was rare that he was completely alone, and even out here he knew he wasn’t. Back on Cybertron he had had a partner in the form of the Lord Protector and they had shared a trust for many millennia. Megatron had betrayed that trust and left Optimus to fend for himself. Now, after so much loss and pain, he was part of something again. The five Primes shared different bonds and the strongest was with Rodimus. Whether it scared the young Prime or not, Optimus had no idea. As contrary to the idea of becoming a Prime Rodimus had been in the past, he had almost smoothly and seamlessly slipped into this new role.

Optimus smiled a little. It felt good to be able to share a burden, joy and pain, and while he sometimes felt slivers of guilt, Rodimus had assured him things were fine. Co-leading was okay. Will, Sam and Tony had different positions. They were all respected, but the Autobots turned to Optimus first, then Rodimus. Neither of the two Primes minded.

::Deep thoughts?:: a voice teased over a private channel.

Optimus chuckled. ::Shallow ones. Trouble?::

::Nah. Ratchet is still hovering around Ironhide. Hide’s close to blowing a hole into our medic if he keep continuing. The guys are off for a movie night one of the team organized. Things blow up, Will told me. Jazz has joined them and I know Barricade will lurk. Nothing out of the ordinary.::

Optimus had to agree. His co-leader didn’t need his help.

::This is easy stuff:: Rodimus commented on the stray thoughts the older Prime projected. ::I’m glad I’m not fully in charge::

Optimus chuckled and glanced at the smaller mech. ::It’s not as bad as it seems::

::You’ve more experience. I’ve only ever seen the results and you make it look easy. I know it wasn’t. Now I know.::

The connection between them seemed to hum and Rodimus glanced over his shoulder, suddenly aware of something not far away.

::Will?:: He looked back at Optimus. ::Can you… feel it, too?::

::Since the incident. I became aware of his presence when he woke::

Rodimus knew he was staring. That had been a month ago. ::So…? A Prime thing?::

Optimus rumbled softly. ::Who knows?::

::These connections… you never had them with the Lord Protector?::

::No:: was the quiet answer. ::Megatron and I had a different relationship. Ours was a shared leadership, never a shared connection::

Rodimus looked back toward the base again, quite aware of Will’s presence inside. He felt nothing else, no moods, no trickles of thoughts. Only when Optimus opened himself did the younger Prime become aware of it from him anyway. But it was humbling to be part of this, to share this responsibility with the much older and more powerful mech.

“This is weird,” he murmured.

Optimus briefly clapped him on the shoulder. “No more than everything else, I believe.”

Rodimus grinned. “Yeah. Should Tony ever develop the same connection, we’re doomed.”

Blue optics flared in amusement. “Probably.”

Silence fell between them again; a comfortable silence. Optimus was at ease and Rodimus felt it. It was relaxing him as well. He let the calmness wash over him, keeping his side of the Prime connection open. Part of him wondered what would really happen if Tony was included into this. Extremis gave him an edge already; and maybe Extremis would evolve. Maybe the five Primes would have this way of connecting one day. For now, he would keep an optic on what was happening with Lennox.

Experience had taught him to expect more to happen in the future. He had been on this planet long enough; he had seen enough; he had become more himself.

Yeah, Earth was very special in so many regards. Their home; his home. And his friends and fellow Primes.

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fin for this one. Hope you enjoyed!