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Chapter Text

Silverbolt is falling, twisting frantically to try and regain equilibrium, but his panic has shorted out his stabilising circuits and his left engine just won't fire no matter what he does. He wants to scream, but no sound will leave his vocaliser: either it's fritzed along with his systems, or his terror has choked it silent. He knows he has to calm down – has to give his systems a chance to reset, to bring that engine back online – but all he can see is the stream of numbers from his altimeter, counting him down, down, down to the unforgiving ground...

Something white fills his sensors, ducks beneath him and matches his speed, eases closer; suddenly he's not falling any more. There is warm metal under him and the deep, steady thrum of another's engines. In a surge of panicked instinct, he transforms and grabs on tightly to whatever protrusions his shaking hands can find.

"You're safe, I've got you," comes a gentle voice – concerned, but soothing. "Are you all right?"

"I... I think so."

Silverbolt presses his forehead against smooth white plating; his saviour levels off, and his panic eases a little as he finds he is settled securely on a broad back. One of his hands is gripping a fin far too tightly, and with a twinge of guilt he eases his grip, though the other hasn't complained. He can't quite bring himself to let go.

"Thank you," he murmurs after a moment.

"I saw you were in trouble from higher up," is the reply – an explanation, and a quiet evasion of the gratitude. "I'm Skyfire. You must be one of the Aerialbots?"

Skyfire – he knows the name from the datafiles he's been reading, trying to keep up with his new responsibilities – one of only three Autobot fliers, until recently, at least – a shuttle, that's why he's so big – a scientist, generally found working alongside Perceptor or Wheeljack. Somehow, he's never been around when the Aerialbots are off-duty. Silverbolt clings to these scraps of data almost as tightly as he is still clinging to Skyfire.

"I'm Silverbolt," he replies shakily. "Um. Nice to meet you?"

Skyfire laughs, not a mocking sound, but a pleasant one that sends vibrations through Silverbolt's body. Silverbolt smiles, a little wanly, more grateful than he could even begin to express for the warmth of another's plating right now, and for how sturdy and safe his companion seems.

"What happened?" asks Skyfire.

"My engine died." Silverbolt remembers to start running diagnostics; they try to tell him that his engine isn't there at all, which a quick sensor scan contradicts, so something awful must have happened to the wiring on that side. "I don't know why – it was fine when I set out."

"Were you injured in the battle earlier?"

"No – well, I was hit a couple of times, but it was nothing – Ratchet had more important things to look at..."

He doesn't mean that to come out so defensive, but Skyfire doesn't call him on it.

"Do you mind if I scan you?"

"I– no, go ahead."

The scan tingles and crackles over his bodywork, gently probing his circuitry, taking surface readings from his systems. Silverbolt's never liked medical scans, always found them uncomfortable and intrusive, but Skyfire is so considerate, so obviously concerned for him, that the slide of his energy field against Silverbolt's is soothing, even pleasant. Skyfire is murmuring to himself softly, the way Perceptor does sometimes when he's working on a problem, but Silverbolt doesn't really listen to the words. He likes Skyfire's voice – it reminds him a little of Optimus Prime's – and even though he knows he should be worried about the damage to his engine, for the first time in weeks he feels himself relaxing.

"Looks like null-ray damage to me," says Skyfire at length, and Silverbolt jolts guiltily back to awareness. "You're going to need the capacitors replaced."

"Null-ray?"

"Starscream's weapon." A faint suggestion of hardness creeps into Skyfire's voice. "It's insidious. If it doesn't knock out your systems right away, it can fry enough connections that the whole circuit will collapse under pressure later on."

Silverbolt twitches despite himself, trying to block out images of his fall to Earth continuing unarrested.

"I... should have stayed for a check..." he mumbles at last, too shaken to do anything but admit his folly. "If you hadn't been here..."

"But I am here," says Skyfire firmly, and does something with his turbines that sends a low, reassuring rumble through Silverbolt from nose to tailfins. Then he adds, with just the hint of a smile in his voice, "And now you know why post-battle check-ups are supposed to be mandatory."

Silverbolt laughs – not because it's funny, really, but because the words could have been condescending, disapproving, and they aren't – Skyfire isn't questioning his ability to lead his team or pointing out the failings of himself or the other Aerialbots. Silverbolt thinks he hears a soft chuckle in return, but it's hard to tell over the noise of Skyfire's engines and the rush of their slipstream.

"What were you doing out here, anyway?" asks Skyfire, gaining a little height to skim over a tall spire of cloud that reminds Silverbolt of his brief glimpse of Cybertron.

"Practising," Silverbolt admits. "I... almost froze in the battle today, while I was dodging Starscream... that's how he hit me." He pauses, then figures he might as well just come clean. "I'm not good with heights."

He expects laughter, maybe that incredulous question – a jet who's scared of heights? – or silence, tinged with pity or contempt. Instead, Skyfire says, quietly and without embarrassment, "Neither am I."

"But– you're a shuttle!" exclaims Silverbolt thoughtlessly, gracelessly, and hates himself a second later – but Skyfire does laugh, then.

"Exactly," he says. "I was built for space travel – to navigate a void and work in distances of light years. Knowing that I have only a few paltry miles to work with... feeling gravity pull me down instead of just tugging the edges of my sensors... being so close but much too high up to hold on to anything solid... it's hard even to describe." Skyfire pauses. "I think you have an idea of what I mean, though, don't you?"

"Yes," whispers Silverbolt "Yes, I do. How do you cope?"

"I find other things to think about. I watch the stars. If it gets too much, I go higher."

"Higher?" Silverbolt shudders. "I don't know if that would help me."

In response, Skyfire fires his jets and begins to climb. Silverbolt feels a thrill of fear as his altimeter starts rising towards its limit.

"What– what are you doing?"

"You'll see. Trust me."

And he does, that's the strange thing, especially when he feels the faintest, hesitant brush of Skyfire's energy field over his own, like a hand trailing down his wing. Somehow, he can't help but trust Skyfire.

They climb higher, higher – the air above them thins, the stars brighten until they blaze, and the cold creeps into Silverbolt's sensors, but Skyfire's intangible shields protect them both from the worst of it. The slipstream falters and vanishes, and Silverbolt knows that if he wanted to he could sit upright now on Skyfire's back. He stays where he is, listening to the steady roar of the other's jets, finding the lack of air resistance calming. He doesn't feel like he's high up anymore, even with his altimeter maxed out.

"Look," murmurs Skyfire, dipping a wing. Silverbolt looks.

Earth curves beneath them, a dark, graceful arc. Silverbolt can see, with his sensors stretched, the lights of billions of humans – clustered, scattered, strung out like beads – can catch glimpses of moonlight on the vast, shifting seas. Behind them, a crescent of blinding gold marks the dawn, blazing its way around the globe that spins serenely on its axis.

He is higher than he's ever been, but Silverbolt finds that the fear won't come. They seem to be hanging there – him, Skyfire, and the Earth. Carefully, slowly, he sits up to get a better look.

"I find it helps," says Skyfire softly, "to remember that, no matter how overwhelming it seems close to, it is just another object in space."

They drift for a while, watching the dawnline spread further as the Earth spins; for millions far below, the sun comes up.

Finally, Skyfire begins to descend once more, and Silverbolt lies down flat, making sure of his handholds. Re-entry causes Skyfire's shields to flare brilliantly as he slides like a meteorite through the atmosphere. Silverbolt watches the play of light, fascinated, determined not to think about the Earth rushing up towards them – but then his altimeter comes back online, hysterical numbers demanding his attention, and he can't help himself, he glances down – and that smooth curve has swallowed them, so that they are plunging down from on high like a falling star...

"Silverbolt?"

He draws a shaky breath. "Yes?"

"I won't let you fall."

It's not just reassurance, it's a promise – the words, the tone, the way Skyfire sends another tentative pulse through his energy field to run lightly over Silverbolt's wings. He's never met anyone quite like Skyfire, so steady, so gentle, but with a faint, sharp current of something bright running deep below the surface. He likes it, wants to touch it again, find out where it leads.

"I'll hold you to that," replies Silverbolt, and turns his sensors upward, back towards the peace they have just left behind, and thinks about the stars.

Chapter Text

Silverbolt would never, ever have asked, but he had a hard time hiding his relief when Skyfire said, "I'll walk you to the repair bay."

It wasn't that he was scared of Ratchet, exactly - not the way Fireflight was, and Primus, they were going to have to do something about that before Fireflight missed any more tune-ups - it was just that he was well aware of their medical officer's low tolerance for idiots. And flying off without a post-battle check, only to be carried back to base on another mech's back after a near-crash, was about as idiotic as Silverbolt could ever imagine being.

"Thanks," he said, and Skyfire shot him a knowing smile in response. Silverbolt returned it sheepishly.

He couldn't help sneaking covert glances at his companion as they walked. Skyfire was new to him. He hadn't been deployed in any of the aerial battles Silverbolt and his gestalt had fought since their arrival on Earth, and although Silverbolt had seen his name on the roster and knew vaguely who he was, they'd never really met - until a few hours ago, when Skyfire had caught him mid-fall and talked him out of his panic after one of his engines had abruptly ceased to function.

Even then, Silverbolt had only seen him in his alt-mode - well, 'seen' was perhaps a mis-statement, 'clung to' might be nearer the mark - and although he'd been aware of Skyfire's size as a shuttle, he hadn't quite expected him to be so big in root-mode as well. Most of Silverbolt's own mass shifted into subspace when he transformed, leaving him only somewhat bigger than his gestalt-mates, so he had expected the same from Skyfire. And he supposed it must happen - Skyfire was nowhere near big enough in robot form to account for all his alt-mode's mass, he'd have to be almost Omega Supreme's size for that - but obviously not to the same extent as Silverbolt's own transformation.

The strange thing was how quickly he stopped noticing, though. Skyfire moved with unexpected lightness, and seemed to take up less space than his bulk demanded. He was also surprisingly quiet-voiced, and adjusted his pace so that Silverbolt didn't have to take two strides to his one, with the result that, by the time they reached the repair bay, it startled Silverbolt all over again when Skyfire had to duck to get through the door.

There was no-one there but Ratchet: there hadn't been any major injuries in the battle earlier, and those who'd fought were doubtless patched up by now and off enjoying their downtime elsewhere. Ratchet was sorting tools idly, and glanced up with mild inquiry that turned to a sharp scrutiny of both Skyfire and Silverbolt as they hesitated inside the door.

"And where have you been?" Ratchet tossed the last spanner into its box with a loud crash-clatter, and turned to fold his arms over his windscreen, optics narrowed at Silverbolt. "By the time I'd sent your brothers packing I'd lost sight of you. And you--" he added, glaring at Skyfire, "--I've been trying to get hold of you for a while now."

"I'm just keeping Silverbolt company," Skyfire replied quickly - possibly a shade too quickly, a fact that didn't seem to be lost on Ratchet. "I wasn't in the battle--"

"Oh, no, you don't." Ratchet had crossed the bay; he now took hold of Silverbolt and guided him briskly over to a table, giving him a light shove on the back to indicate he should sit down. He turned back to stare down Skyfire. "Two years since your last overhaul is two years too long."

"It's somewhat difficult to stop by while on a mission in deep space."

"You've been back three months."

"... it slipped my mind."

"Well, I want you in here the day after tomorrow, or I might just slip into Prime's office, got that?"

Ratchet turned his back on Skyfire and begun to run a scanner over Silverbolt, perched nervously on the table. Skyfire's face darkened, and Silverbolt thought he was going to argue, but then he seemed to make some silent effort, and his expression smoothed into resignation.

"Alright. I'll come by after my shift."

"Good. Now..." Ratchet frowned at his scanner and turned a probing look on Silverbolt, "... what have you gone and done to yourself, you silly young thing?"

Silverbolt braced himself.

"My engine malfunctioned. I couldn't get it to restart - I can't even tell it's there."

"Null-ray damage, Ratchet, probably from when they were intercepting the Seekers," Skyfire put in, and somehow his calm voice made it sound less like Silverbolt's fault and more like something that could have happened to anyone. "It's taken out the capacitors, but I couldn't see any other damage in my scan, and the other engine on that side should be functional."

"Hmm." Ratchet prodded at the wiring under Silverbolt's engine, making him jump. "You realise that this sort of thing is exactly why you're not supposed to leave until I've given you the all-clear?"

Silverbolt hung his head.

"Yes. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

To his surprise, Ratchet gave a short snort of laughter, shook his head, and clapped him on the shoulder in a not unkind manner.

"Now that's a first. Alright, lie down, if Skyfire's scanned you and come up clean then I don't expect there's anything wrong that I can't fix before the rest of the pack come looking for you." He moved toward the newly-sorted tools, pausing to throw a knowing glance at Skyfire. "You can clear off now, I'm not going to eat him."

"Just making sure," Skyfire replied, deadpan. "I've heard rumours, you know."

"Get out before I decide to start stripping your circuits here and now."

Skyfire palmed the door controls, smiling faintly, and paused to look fully at Silverbolt.

"I'll see you later," he said, but there was a hint of a question in it.

"I'd like that," Silverbolt replied at once, and kept his optics on him until the door slid shut and blocked his view.

Skyfire heard the door open, but did not immediately turn around. For one thing, the circuitry he was studying was complex, and he'd only just succeeded in picking out the area he would need to work on; if he looked away now, before he'd marked it, he'd have to spend another ten minutes finding it later on. For another, he wasn't particularly in the mood to talk to anyone, and he felt an unreasonable resentment that his solitude had been disturbed. Wheeljack or Perceptor, whichever one it was, could wait until he was ready.

There was a long silence, and then a hesitant, "Hello?"

Startled, he looked up then despite himself. It was neither Perceptor nor Wheeljack - usually the only ones to wander into his lab unannounced - but the Aerialbot he'd encountered a few days previously. Skyfire had been meaning to look him up ever since - he'd been surprised by how much he'd liked the young flyer - but his inadvertent appointment with Ratchet had rather distracted him, as well as souring his mood.

Now Silverbolt was hesitating in the doorway of Skyfire's lab - not precisely nervous, but clearly wondering if he had intruded where he wasn't wanted. Skyfire regretted his ill temper, and turned around fully, managing a smile.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't realise it was you."

"I didn't mean to disturb you." Silverbolt smiled back, rather more warmly than Skyfire thought he deserved. "I just thought I'd... come and say hello. But I can go if--"

"No, no, that's fine." Skyfire gestured vaguely at the workbench he'd been leaning over. "It's nothing that can't wait. How is your engine?"

"Oh, fixed, completely..." Silverbolt's optics dropped for a second. "Well, as much as I can tell, I haven't really... tested it out properly yet. But Ratchet gave me the all-clear."

Most other flyers would have been back in the air the second they were permitted, but Skyfire couldn't blame Silverbolt, given the circumstances of their first meeting, if he were a little hesitant to return to the skies. Not for the first time, Skyfire wondered what quirk of fate had conspired to give Silverbolt his fear of heights. His own dislike of them was easily enough explained - rationalised - and while it made him tense and jittery to fly so close in to a planet, he was able to handle it through long experience. Silverbolt's was more fundamental, if the panic that had that had overtaken him was any indication. Skyfire resisted the urge to ask; it had been obvious when the subject had come up before that it was a sensitive topic for Silverbolt, and he didn't want to pry.

"Then it should be alright," Skyfire said. "Ratchet does usually know what he's doing."

He hadn't meant his own lingering irritation to slip into his voice, but Silverbolt's quizzical frown told him that it had.

"You don't get on with Ratchet?"

"Oh, no, I... respect him deeply, truly I do, we just... disagree, on occasion, about certain things."

"Like the frequency of check-ups?"

There was a tentative teasing note in Silverbolt's voice, Skyfire thought, but he couldn't be entirely sure. He'd never been particularly good at reading people, and Silverbolt was not, he suspected, the open datapad he appeared to be. Either way, it was easier to grimace and shrug, and enjoy Silverbolt's unexpected laughter - he had rather a lovely voice - than to try and explain.

"But I suppose you're used to each other by now," Silverbolt went on. "How long have you known him?"

"Just over three Earth years," Skyfire replied. "Apparently it takes at least a vorn to get in his good graces..."

He trailed off, because Silverbolt looked confused, and Skyfire wasn't sure what had caused it.

"But weren't-- I mean, I thought that the Ark crew had all been together for years - vorns, I mean - before you came to Earth."

Skyfire suffered a moment of disorientation. The story of his entombment in the ice had done the rounds of the Ark so thoroughly just after his awakening that he'd become used to everyone knowing. He'd even resigned himself to the faint mistrust and pointed remarks brought about by his past involvement with Starscream and brief stint as a Decepticon. But although the tale had been fresh enough to be repeated to the bots brought out of stasis a few months later, it had largely faded into obscurity by the time the Aerialbots had been brought from Cybertron.

Most of the Autobots were friendly in an offhand sort of way these days, and if Skyfire still felt something of an outsider amid the close-knit Ark crew, well, what was that but the truth? It was as Silverbolt had said: the bots of the Ark had been working together as the core defenders of Iacon long before they'd set off for Earth. Skyfire might have been there three years, risked himself as willingly as anyone else against the Decepticons, but he was still, in the eyes of most, a newcomer.

As was Silverbolt, Skyfire realised, even more than he himself: the Aerialbots had been fullsparked with all the knowledge they would need to function, but nothing could hide the fact that they lacked real experience, were far younger than even Bluestreak. That coupled with the fact that they were flyers had built a barrier between them and the other Autobots before they'd even had time to settle in - not helped by what Skyfire had heard had been a near catastrophe when four of them had decided to up and leave immediately. It had been Silverbolt who'd brought them back, apparently - Silverbolt who had found a way to persuade, cajole, and manoeuvre them into returning to the ranks. Skyfire had barely seen any of them first hand, at least until his encounter with Silverbolt a few days ago; he hadn't exactly been avoiding them, but his brief glimpses of the group had reminded him uncomfortably of Starscream, and between long-distance patrols and his lab work, he hadn't had to try very hard to evade their company.

Silverbolt, though, Silverbolt was different, he'd seen that straight away. And it was unexpectedly pleasant to meet someone who had no preconceptions about him.

"Actually, I didn't set out from Cybertron with the Autobots," Skyfire said. "They rescued me shortly after their own awakening on Earth."

"Rescued?"

Silverbolt had been hovering in the doorway; now he came fully into the lab, optics alight with interest, and Skyfire realised that he was rather bigger than his brothers - nothing like Skyfire's own size, but it made him feel less like he had to be careful of his every movement. He'd seen the humans' Concorde racing through the skies on his patrols; the curved wings of the supersonic jet lent themselves well to Silverbolt's tall figure. Skyfire located a little-used chair lodged under a workbench and pushed it towards him with a smile.

"They found me trapped in ice in the Arctic." It was the first time he'd told the story himself; he found he rather relished the prospect. And there was no need to mention Starscream at all. "I first came to this planet over ten million of its years ago..."

Silverbolt, it turned out, though he was neither a scientist nor particularly well-informed on scientific principles, had a quick mind and seemed genuinely interested in anything that Skyfire was working on, with the result that Skyfire quickly got used to having him around, and looked forward to his visits. Silverbolt mostly showed up just after he'd gone off-duty; Skyfire soon realised that he liked to escape from his gestalt for a while, especially when they'd been practising manoeuvres.

Manoeuvres, he was learning, were the bane of Silverbolt's existence: the combination of Air Raid (who liked to improvise), Slingshot (who had no patience), Fireflight (who had no attention span), and Skydive (who was a perfectionist) was a recipe for disaster.

"It wouldn't be so bad," Silverbolt was saying glumly, "if I thought they cared whether they got it right. But Slingshot and Air Raid just think it's funny when they mess up, and I'm not convinced Fireflight even knows which way he's pointing half the time."

"And Skydive's no help?"

"No, when he gets annoyed, the others act out just to wind him up." Silverbolt sighed, leaning back against the workbench and darting a rueful look at Skyfire. "I'm starting to think I should just give up altogether, leave them to their own devices."

"The problem is," Skyfire said, concentrating on carefully fitting together two components he'd just finished working on, "that the Decepticon Seekers, whatever else you may say about them, are extremely good formation flyers. Which gives them the edge."

"I know..." Silverbolt picked up one of the pieces of quartz Perceptor had left on the bench and started playing with it absent-mindedly. Skyfire had stopped being bothered by that habit when he'd realised that Silverbolt never touched anything that he was using or that looked like it might be important. "But if Slingshot decides something's 'boring' or 'geeky', it's the Pit to get him to do it, and the other two follow his lead."

He lapsed into silence, frowning slightly, and Skyfire let the conversation lie, aware that Silverbolt was following a train of thought somewhere. He picked up a soldering iron, and was more than half done before Silverbolt spoke again.

"You know, I'm doing it all the wrong way."

"I doubt it, but what do you mean?"

Silverbolt was turning the quartz over in his hands, watching the way the light ran in waves over its glittering surface, but Skyfire didn't think he was really seeing it.

"I keep trying to make them see how important it is that we improve our formation work, but Slingshot hates being reminded he's an Autobot..." An unhappy look touched Silverbolt's face for just a second, but it was quickly gone. "... but what you were saying a minute ago, about the Seekers - that's the sort of thing he does care about. They all do. Air Raid still thinks Thundercracker is Primus on wings, and half the time after a battle they're more interested in talking about what the Seekers did than what we did."

There was a touch of defensiveness in Silverbolt's voice. Skyfire had heard about the incident with the chronosphere both at the time and, in recent weeks, from Silverbolt himself, and he was aware of how little some members of the Ark's crew trusted the Aerialbots. That they were flyers was bad enough; that they idolised some of the Autobots' most-hated enemies was tantamount to treason in the optics of some.

But Skyfire had barely been in this war himself, and while he despised the Decepticon creed and had no wish to see them win, he found it difficult to forget, as so many of his comrades seemed to, that those on the other side of the battlefield were not so very different from the ones he had chosen as his allies.

"I can't say I really know them well enough to comment." Skyfire put down his tools, waiting for the solder to cool. "But from what you've told me about them, I think you're probably onto something."

That won him a smile, one of the unrestrained, startling smiles that Silverbolt occasionally let slip. Skyfire never could stop himself returning it. After a moment, he looked down at the bench and picked up the device he'd been working on.

"I need to test this outside," he said. "Would you like to come?"

It was early evening in the desert beyond the Ark's main entrance, and more than a few Autobots were out and about, enjoying the fine weather with racing or idle conversation. One or two of them called greetings. Skyfire led the way off the main approach to the Ark, past a shoulder of rock that gave them a modicum of privacy, and stopped at a flat area of ground that looked suitable. Kneeling down, he set down the contraption - roughly the size of his hand - and paused to look critically up at the setting sun.

"So what is it we're testing, exactly?"

"Hmm?" Skyfire turned to find Silverbolt bending over to look. "Oh, it's a solar power converter. We've been working on it for the last couple of weeks, Perceptor and I, but the results have been disappointing."

Silverbolt did not take a step backward, but from the wary look that came into his optics, he wanted to.

"I take it that's what those explosions were the other day?"

"What?" Skyfire frowned as he tried to cast his mind back over recent notable events in the science division. "Oh, no, that was something Perceptor's been putting together with Grapple and Hoist. Believe it or not, it was supposed to blow up like that."

He paused, and smiled despite himself at the unconvinced expression on Silverbolt's face.

"Contrary to what living in close proximity to Wheeljack may have led you to believe, ninety-five percent of experimental technology does not detonate the moment it malfunctions."

A smile tugged at Silverbolt's mouth, and he knelt down opposite Skyfire, regarding the device with renewed interest.

"Ninety-five percent? Is that an official figure?"

"Definitely. Very official. Ask anyone, although not until I've had a chance to tell them about it."

Silverbolt laughed, optics brightening pleasantly.

"In all seriousness," Skyfire went on, pulling out a screwdriver to calibrate the little device, "if these things don't work, they generally just don't do anything at all. And then," he added with a sigh, "you find yourself left with an immensely complicated desk ornament. Back on Cybertron I had a whole cabinet of the ones I couldn't bear to take apart, at least until St--"

Skyfire stopped speaking so abruptly that his vocaliser crackled static.

It had been almost a year since he'd last slipped up and mentioned Starscream's name, and that had been with Perceptor, who had known them both before the war. Skyfire had only made the mistake in other company a handful of times: the dark looks he'd got were enough to teach him to mute his vocaliser on that topic. It wasn't fair, of course - you couldn't immediately train yourself out of thinking, talking, about someone who'd been your closest - occasionally only - companion for vorns. Especially when, as far as he was concerned, it still felt like his partnership with Starscream had been a mere couple of years ago, instead of millennia. It wasn't fair, but it was, he had learned, simply how things were now.

Silverbolt was looking at him with concern.

"Are you--"

"You're in the light."

"What?"

Without really thinking about it, Skyfire took hold of Silverbolt's arm and tugged him around to his side of the converter, so that Silverbolt's shadow no longer fell on it. A moment later, he realised that such contact might be unwanted - but Silverbolt came without protest, and sat down casually at Skyfire's side with only one brief, questioning glance before accepting Skyfire's unspoken desire to change the subject.

"Is it the best time of day for this?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. It has to work in low light levels, you see."

Skyfire reached out and flicked the 'on' switch. Despite his earlier assurances to Silverbolt, he caught himself relaxing minutely when it failed to explode. His lab was next to Wheeljack's, after all.

It took a few seconds - three point seven zero one two nine, according to Skyfire's timer - but the converter began slowly to spin on its axis. Skyfire made a pleased noise, leaning forward and pulling out a hand-held scanner to measure the output. The little converter sped up even as he was taking the reading, whirring happily. To Skyfire, it sounded proud of itself, and he turned to his companion, intending to share the whimsical thought.

"Hey, Silverbolt!"

Silverbolt, who had been watching the spinning device with interest, jumped and turned towards the voice with a startled, almost guilty expression. It was gone in a nanoklik, replaced by one faintly apprehensive. Looking in that direction himself, Skyfire saw the rest of the Aerialbots bearing down on them from the direction of the Ark.

"Where the slag have you been?" demanded Slingshot - the only one Skyfire could identify offhand, mostly by his manner - as they drew level. "We've been all over the Ark looking for you."

"If you count the hangar and the common room as all over the Ark, we need to work on your sense of direction," jibed one of the others. "You hit your head on the ground one too many times?"

"Wasn't me who broke formation and--"

"Can we drop that already?" whined a third. "I said I was sorry."

"Several times. Once every time you--"

"For Primus' sake," snapped Silverbolt, "did you come and find me just to drag me back into this? I'm busy."

Four pairs of optics focused in sudden, intense scrutiny on Skyfire. He had the impression that he didn't add up to much in their combined opinion. It would have bothered him more if he hadn't also been aware of how terribly young they all were. Silverbolt always gave the impression of striving to appear rather older than his scant years; his gestalt-mates held no such aspirations.

"Doing what?"

Silverbolt was stiff and on edge, though he was hiding it well; it was only that, with his back partly to Skyfire, the faint tremor of tension in his wings was more apparent.

"Talking," he said. "What do you want?"

"Whoa." One of the predominantly white and red ones that wasn't Slingshot took an exaggerated step backwards. "Did you hear that? I think we made him mad."

"Hardly," said the dark-coloured one, with a sideways smile. Skyfire suspected him of playing up to his brothers' encouragement, and tentatively identified him as Skydive. "Cranky, maybe. Are you cranky, Silverbolt?"

"I'm wishing I'd locked myself in my quarters," Silverbolt retorted with some spirit. The others laughed; it was obvious that baiting their more serious team-mate was a favourite pastime. "I thought you were going to refuel and practice at the shooting range?"

"We were," said Slingshot, folding his arms belligerently, "but then we started wondering where you'd skipped out to."

"Yeah," piped up the second red-and-white, frowning with what might even have been genuine hurt, "you've been running off without us all week."

"Longer than that."

"More like a month."

"We're feeling like you don't love us any more, Silverbolt."

It was rather entertaining - from the outside - though Skyfire could tell Silverbolt was becoming steadily more irritated. They could certainly give the twins a run for their money.

Unfortunately, some of his amusement must have shown on his face, because the more forceful of the red-and-whites turned on him with a scowl and a curt, "Something funny?"

"Not at all," Skyfire replied mildly, forestalling the beginning of a reprimand from Silverbolt. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm Skyfire."

The Aerialbots stared at his outstretched hand with unanimous suspicion. Somewhere in the back of his processor, it made Skyfire a little sad that they had learned to be so wary so soon of anyone outside their tight-knit group. Somewhere else, an alarm went off: that look was so very reminiscent of Starscream when Skyfire had first known him, of the flighty, haughty, hostile outlook that had led naturally to the Decepticon cause...

"Skyfire, huh?" The red-and-white who had challenged him set his hands on his hips and glared up at a bot twice his size with no apparent sense of irony. "What are you doing with our wingmate, anyway?"

"Air Raid," began Silverbolt, voice sharp and furious.

"I was showing him something I'm working on," Skyfire replied, willing to play along with them for now. "Would you like to see? It's--"

"Ugh, you're kidding." Slingshot overrode him rudely, casting a disgusted glare at the little solar generator still spinning merrily away to itself on the ground. "He's as bad as that Perceptor. Come on, Silverbolt, we're gonna do four-on-one on Skydive at the range - he reckons he can take us all."

Slingshot turned away as if the matter were settled. Silverbolt's optics had brightened to almost-white: Skyfire had never seen him angry, and he found the sight unexpectedly appealing. It was, he thought, something about the way Silverbolt's self-control only hardened with his rising fury.

Air Raid was snickering; the one who was probably Skydive was smirking. The last - Fireflight, by process of elimination - was watching the generator with rapt fascination.

"What's keeping it spinning?"

Air Raid groaned.

"Batteries, probably, what do you think? Come on."

"There's no room for batteries." Fireflight had got down on his knees, pressing his helm to the ground to peer underneath the spinning converter. "And it's sparkly."

"That's the focus crystal," Skyfire said. He wasn't sure there was a lot of point, but Fireflight seemed genuinely interested, and he'd wanted to explain it to Silverbolt, anyway. "It means we don't have to have panels and panels of vulnerable solar cells - we can just install one of these every couple of metres and--"

"Bored now," Air Raid cut in, grabbing Fireflight by the nosecone and pulling him upright with a yelp. "Come on, Silverbolt, we need you to keep score, everyone else always gets distracted, and Skydive cheats."

"I do not."

"Only when he thinks no-one's looking," Slingshot shouted over his shoulder. Skydive took off after him, Air Raid and Fireflight launching themselves into pursuit a second later.

Silverbolt stood frozen for a long moment, then turned to Skyfire with a look of such abject embarrassment that it wrung Skyfire's spark a little. Even his wings seemed to droop.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Skyfire reached out tentatively to touch Silverbolt's shoulder. The gesture seemed to go further than the words; Silverbolt relaxed under his hand, even mustering a wan smile. "Are you going with them?"

"I'd better, I suppose. If I don't, they're bound to shoot each other to pieces, or blow up the Ark, or Primus knows what else..."

Skyfire bent to pick up the solar converter, which was running slower now that the sun was truly below the surrounding crags.

"See you tomorrow?"

The look of gratitude, and relief, that Silverbolt turned on him was well worth the price of putting up with his less charming gestalt-mates; Skyfire didn't hesitate to smile back.

"Come on, Silverbolt!"

"Definitely," Silverbolt replied. "That is, if I'm not in the brig for killing them."

Silverbolt caught up with them just as they reached the entrance to the Ark - not because he was faster, but because they'd stopped to wait for him.

"Primus, what a lunk!" Slingshot's voice dripped with scorn, a quick toss of the head towards where Skyfire had paused to greet Jazz making it obvious who he was talking about. "What did you want with him, Silverbolt? Can he even get off the ground?"

Silverbolt's last thread of patience snapped. There was a lot he wanted to say - that Skyfire was kind, and intelligent, and had a subtle, wicked sense of humour if you looked hard enough - that Silverbolt could talk to him, and that he actually listened - but he knew what mattered to Slingshot, and what it took to earn his respect.

"For your information," he said, in what he felt was a fairly restrained manner, all things considered, "he's faster than any of us."

"Yeah, well, so's Omega Supreme," said Slingshot. "But he's not exactly..."

Skydive smirked faintly, and imitated the rocket's lugubrious tones to perfection:

"Omega Supreme: slow in other ways."

"Omega Supreme saved our lives, at considerable risk to his own, in case you've forgotten," said Silverbolt, walking on past them into the Ark. "And Skyfire is... is my friend."

"We have to work on your taste in people." Air Raid caught him up and slung an arm cheerfully around his shoulders, though he had to stretch a bit to reach. "You're going to end up completely boring if we don't do something about it."

"I don't know, I thought he was kind of neat," piped up Fireflight. He had been looking thoughtful; now he cocked his head curiously at Silverbolt. "What is he? I mean, he's got wings, but he's too big to be a jet..."

"His alt-mode is a shuttle," Silverbolt replied, clutching at a strand of conversation that wasn't going to end with him either beating his gestalt brothers senseless, or going and begging Ratchet to wire him into Defensor. "It's not an Earth design - he wasn't rebuilt by Teletraan-1, you see, so--"

But only the first part of his answer had penetrated. Slingshot howled with laughter, while Skydive sighed and Air Raid shook his head despairingly. Even Fireflight giggled a bit.

"A shuttle?" Skydive had that condescending note in his voice, the one that Silverbolt found almost more annoying than Slingshot in full swagger or Air Raid at his most cocky. "I thought they'd retired sentient mass transit long before the Ark set out."

"Can you imagine flying groundcrawlers backwards and forwards all day?" said Slingshot to Air Raid. "I'd dump them out at fifty thousand feet."

"Don't call them that." Silverbolt pulled away from Air Raid, walked a bit faster. "You sound like Decepticons. And I never said Skyfire's primary function was transportation. Sometimes he's helped carry the Autobots, but first and foremost he's a scientist and explorer. The shuttle alt-mode lets him go beyond the usual range of spacefaring vessels."

That had Fireflight's attention.

"He can fly through space? He's that kind of shuttle?"

"What other kind of shuttle were you thinking of?" inquired Skydive.

"Well, I don't know, those ones that go between cities on Cybertron, you know - we saw them in that vid file..."

The conversation veered off as Skydive and Slingshot got distracted needling Fireflight, and Silverbolt let it go, giving up on setting his brothers straight for now. He knew what they were like: until someone had met their obscure criteria for respect, they were mocking to the point of cruelty of anyone who attempted to enter the Aerialbot circle. Even Omega Supreme, who had earned their grudging admiration, was the subject of more than one unkind remark. It was part of the reason Silverbolt had been - not exactly hiding the time he spent with Skyfire - but not exactly trying to draw attention to it, either.

The other part was... hard to define, even in his own mind, beyond a sort of formless desire to keep Skyfire to himself.

"If it shuttles things backwards and forwards, why can't I call it a shuttle?" Fireflight was demanding loudly. There was a clang and a yelp. "Air Raid!"

Silverbolt sighed, and reminded himself that he did love his brothers, really, and that even justifiable homicide carried heavy penalties under Autobot law.

Chapter Text

The common room was quiet at this hour of downtime - well, it had been quiet until the Aerialbots had descended on it, at least. The fact that Slingshot, Skydive, and Air Raid were having another argument was a factor, but really, it was rare for the group of flyers to go anywhere quietly.

Fireflight liked it. He sort of knew that it was annoying for other people - like Mirage, leaving the room in a hurry as soon as they entered, with a glare and a muttered remark that the others, fortunately, didn't catch - and he sometimes felt bad about it, but then, other people were always doing things to annoy the Aerialbots, so wasn't turnabout fair play? And besides, didn't they deserve some slack - and some credit - for their status as the Autobots' only air forces?

And Fireflight loved being surrounded by the constant push-and-pull of his brothers' voices. Even when they were teasing him - even when the arguments grew teeth and ended with someone sulking and the others loudly pretending they didn't care - even when Silverbolt lost his temper (rare) and shouted at them (rarer) - he felt everything was right as long as it wasn't quiet.

Wedged in next to Silverbolt on the smaller couch with the other three descending into (mostly) friendly death-threats on the bigger one, Fireflight felt that all was right with the world. And pressed up this close to Silverbolt, he could read his wingmate's energy field like a datapad: despite a faint thread of frustration over the day's training, and the low-level anxiety that never really seemed to dissipate, Silverbolt was content too, and that made Fireflight sigh happily and snuggle in under his brother's arm get his wings petted.

Silverbolt obliged, glancing down at him questioningly.

"We did okay today, didn't we?" said Fireflight.

Silverbolt hesitated, but when he replied, Fireflight could feel the truthfulness of it in his field.

"Yes, we were okay today." A smile tugged at his mouth. "Maybe tomorrow we can attempt to move from 'okay' to 'good'."

Fireflight fixed him with a bright, guileless stare that was not as unconscious as people generally thought.

"I don't know, that might be dangerously ambitious."

Silverbolt laughed, and that made things definitely alright. Silverbolt had been off all week, angry with them for making fun of his friend - and truthfully, Fireflight didn't really get why the others disliked him so much when they didn't even know him, and that spinning top thing had been neat - and more snappish than usual when they'd messed up in practice. His sarcastic description a couple of days ago of the Seekers' probable opinions of the Aerialbots hadn't been nice at all; Fireflight had gone off by himself and practised that one turn over and over until he got it right, just because Silverbolt had painted such a vivid picture of Thundercracker and Starscream laughing their tailfins off at his clumsiness.

"Did you hurt yourself in that last crash?"

"No, I'm good. Bent a flap, but Skydive put it right."

"Still, get Ratchet to look at it before tomorrow."

Fireflight mostly hid the wing-twitch, but couldn't stop Silverbolt feeling the ripple in his field. Silverbolt looked down at him with a mixture of despair and reluctant sympathy.

"He's not going to shout at you for a bent flap, Fireflight."

"He always shouts at me."

"How about if I ask Hot Spot to get First Aid to do it, then?"

Fireflight was silent. He liked First Aid, no matter what Slingshot had to say about his pacifism, and he'd much rather have him than Ratchet... for anything except wings. First Aid's experience was mostly of ground vehicles and his own gestalt-brothers. He was good enough with the main circuitry, but he didn't yet have the particular expertise needed for wing repairs - or various other delicate operations - which was why they were all supposed to report to Ratchet rather than sneaking off and getting First Aid to look at it. Not that that stopped Blades and Streetwise from going to their brother rather than the Ark's chief medic, especially if they had, just for example, got themselves a new set of dents from the Aerialbots.

Silverbolt sighed, and seemed about to launch into yet another explanation of why Fireflight didn't have any reason to be scared of Ratchet. Fireflight was often tempted to counter these with a similar explanation of why Silverbolt didn't have any reason to be scared of heights, but he wasn't that cruel. But then Silverbolt's optics brightened and a quick flicker of recognition/pleasure went through his field. Following his gaze, Fireflight saw that the big, white shuttle - Skyfire - had just come into the common room. He didn't seem to have noticed the Aerialbots (which was an achievement in itself), as he was absorbed in a datapad as he crossed the room to the energon dispensers. Silverbolt watched him go, obviously thinking of calling out, while Fireflight wondered what it was like to fly through space, and how big Skyfire was in his alt-mode, and if he'd show Fireflight the pretty spinning thing again, if Fireflight asked, and explain how it worked in his nice voice. He also wondered why he'd never noticed Skyfire around before: it wasn't like he was easy to miss. Fireflight was sure he'd have seen him if he'd ever been in the common room at the same time as they were.

Having obtained a cube of energon, Skyfire looked up from his datapad and around the room, and his optics finally met Silverbolt's. He smiled a greeting; Silverbolt smiled back. Fireflight grinned in what he hoped was a friendly sort of way, and Skyfire smiled at him, too, so that was alright. He looked like he might come over here and talk to them, which would be nice: the other three would probably needle him, but they'd get over it if he turned out to be cooler than he looked. And if Silverbolt liked him so much, he pretty much had to be.

Slingshot, however, had noticed where they were looking and twisted around to see for himself. He gave a snort of disdain.

"Don't look now, Silverbolt's friend just turned up to lecture us on exciting bits of metal again."

"Aw, no way."

"Shut up," said Silverbolt, glaring at Slingshot and Air Raid.

Skyfire was close enough to hear them; rather than being put off by the comment, however, he seemed to take it as his cue to approach.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

The question was directed at Silverbolt, who said, "Of course not," before the others had time to put him off. Air Raid groaned loudly and Slingshot glared at Skyfire. Fireflight, spurred on by the fact that Silverbolt's field had gone ripply and uneven with annoyance and a funny kind of tension, jumped to his feet helpfully.

"You can sit here if you want."

"Like he'd fit," said Air Raid.

"Probably break the couch," added Slingshot.

"It can take heavier weights than mine," Skyfire replied without the slightest acknowledgement of their rudeness; however, he waved Fireflight back to his seat. "But I think I'll pull up a chair. The couches weren't really designed with wings in mind."

"Bet he breaks the chair," muttered Air Raid to Slingshot and Skydive, just loudly enough to be overheard.

"Bet Silverbolt kills you as soon as we're back in the hangar," Skydive replied, though he didn't look too impressed by Skyfire's presence either. "Behave."

Skyfire hesitated over what to do with his datapad and energon cube, but Silverbolt offered a hand, and Skyfire passed them over with a quick smile of thanks. Towing one of the free-standing chairs over to the Aerialbots' couches, he hit several adjustment switches with the ease of much practice, causing it to unfold into a configuration more suitable for Skyfire's size.

"I didn't know they went that big," Skydive said, in what might have been mistaken for polite interest if you didn't know him. Silverbolt, who did, flashed a sharp look in his direction and was met with a bland expression in return. "You'd think there'd be an upper limit."

"There is," Skyfire replied, either unaware of Skydive's subtle jibe or choosing to ignore it. "And in all honesty, it's not much above this setting, but fortunately for me, Grapple and Hoist stuck to the standard schematics instead of cutting corners when they were building the Ark."

He took his things back from Silverbolt with a "thank you", and sipped from the cube

"Why didn't they make the couches like that?" Fireflight wondered aloud. "My wings are cramped."

"The couches were a later addition," Skyfire said. "They're a human concept, really - Grapple just scaled up." He gave Fireflight's wings a sympathetic look. "I don't find them too comfortable, myself."

Fireflight would have launched into an explanation of how the thing about the couches was that they let you pile on top of your brothers much more easily than the chairs, but Slingshot butted in before he could.

"Why do you even have wings?" he demanded.

Even Air Raid shot him a startled look for that one: it felt dangerously close to a suggestion that said wings be removed, and you did not threaten a fellow flyer's wings. You just didn't. Slingshot hunched up defensively.

"What? He's too big to use them for real manoeuvring and he doesn't need them in space. Why isn't he just a rocket like Omega Supreme?"

"You'd be surprised how little size really matters," Skyfire replied, evenly enough but with just a hint of something steely under the words. "My shields reduce friction and help with the displacement problem, and I have extremely powerful auxiliary jets. I've no doubt you have a better turning circle than I have, but I have no altitude ceiling and my systems are calibrated to handle far greater extremes of gravity and pressure than yours. I can go where you can't follow, and I can come down fast and from an angle you're not expecting. I'm not primarily a fighter, but deep space exploration was dangerous even before the war: you don't embark on it without being able to outrun - or, if necessary, out-gun - anything, sentient or otherwise, that you might encounter."

Silence. Fireflight realised, to his amazement and secret delight, that Slingshot had been rendered momentarily speechless. And he couldn't remember the last time that had happened. Which settled it, really - Skyfire was clearly someone worth getting to know. Fireflight leaned forward eagerly.

"Have you been to many other planets? Are they all like this one?"

He was aware, as Skyfire turned to him with a smile and began to talk, of three of his brothers shooting him surprised, annoyed looks - but he was also aware of the spike of gratitude in Silverbolt's field, and the way he began to relax, slowly, and the way he listened to Skyfire with as much interest as Fireflight.

Definitely worth getting to know, Fireflight thought, and started asking questions.

"How many of those do you have now?"

Silverbolt didn't try to hide his amusement. Skyfire smiled in response, but he didn't look up from the tangle of wires he was sorting through. All around him, a small armada of solar energy collectors wobbled slowly, making the most of the dim daylight someone had managed, with some creative use of mirrors, to funnel into the lab.

"About fifty," Skyfire replied, carefully separating out one handful of wires, only to pause and cast his optics over the bench to either side of him with some irritation. "Give or take the ones Wheeljack's wandered off with. Can you see my tool tray anywhere?"

Silverbolt stifled a laugh, and came further into the room, trying to spot the missing tray. Skyfire's lab, usually tidy and subdivided into his areas of study, was currently lost under a mass of wires, spinning-top energy collectors, and miscellaneous bits of circuitry that had been hooked up to them. Given that most of the wires were colour-coded, it looked like the room had been buried under an explosion of carnival streamers. Silverbolt had to wonder how Skyfire planned to escape without getting hopelessly tangled up - and then he spotted the tools, almost hidden under a small mound of coiled cabling that Skyfire had obviously laid aside without looking. He picked his way through the cluttered lab, grabbed both tray and wire, and offered the former up to Skyfire with a grin.

"Thanks." Skyfire took the tray, snatched a handful of plastic binders, tied up the bundles of wires, let them drop onto the bench, then straightened up with a sigh and a rueful smile for Silverbolt. "We need to test them en masse, he said. Your lab has better light, he said. And now he's run off somewhere and left me with the mess."

"This would be Perceptor?" Silverbolt found a moderately clear bit of bench to lean against. Absently, he uncoiled a bit of the wire in his hands and started to play it around his fingers. "I thought he went out on the mission earlier."

"Oh, he did. He's perfectly justified in not being here." Skyfire cast a despairing glance over the chaos around him. "I should have insisted we used his lab, that's all."

Silverbolt thought about Perceptor's lab - a strange, cluttered domain where the piles of stuff went so high that there were rumours of visiting human scientists still lost in there - and was privately of the opinion that unleashing this tide of wires and moving parts on it could only have led to bad things. Skyfire looked so put out, though, that he decided against mentioning it.

"Why so many?"

"Oh, there are a number of things we need to check." Skyfire poked one of the converters with a finger, watching it wobble on its axis and then regain equilibrium. "What happens if one of them malfunctions, how the energy collection is distributed, that sort of thing. The next step will be setting them up outside and running a simulation in full daylight, but Perceptor thought we should test the load levels first."

The wire Silverbolt was playing with was fine and springy, and it had somehow got tangled around his fingers and stuck in the joints. He started trying to work it loose as subtly as possible.

"And then we'll be able to use them to gather energy for the Ark?"

Skyfire hesitated for long enough that Silverbolt took his attention off the wretched wire and looked up at him curiously.

"Something like that," Skyfire replied cautiously. "It's actually... not something I can talk about at the moment."

"Oh." Silverbolt was aware that the science team worked on a number of projects classified top secret, but he couldn't exactly see how the little solar converters qualified. After a moment, he said, "You know, you'd better not let Fireflight in here. He'll never leave."

Skyfire laughed.

"He doesn't run out of questions easily, does he?"

Silverbolt wanted to say a lot, all at once, then - to thank Skyfire, somehow, for the way he'd handled Silverbolt's brothers the other day - to apologise for their behaviour, yet again - to ask if he really hadn't minded Fireflight's relentless interrogation and the increasingly rude interruptions from the other three - or if he'd rather Silverbolt kept out of his way when he was with the rest of his gestalt. But an incautious twist of one hand drew the wire suddenly tight under his left thumb, cutting into the seam there, and Silverbolt couldn't hold back a grimace of pain.

Skyfire frowned, came across the space between them, and caught Silverbolt's hands in his to stop him moving them further.

"What have you done to yourself?"

"I'm not sure. It got tangled when I wasn't looking, and..."

"Hmm. Hold still."

Skyfire found a loose end Silverbolt hadn't even noticed, and began to carefully work it free of the cat's cradle of wire he'd managed to construct between his fingers. Skyfire's hands were large, of course, but Silverbolt had noticed before that they were surprisingly deft; his fingers were long and slender, and tapered more than most, so that he was more than capable of picking out the fine wiring. Silverbolt found himself briefly fascinated, watching them work, so that it was only when Skyfire had managed to unloop the last of the mess, and pull it free of Silverbolt's fingers, that he realised neither of them had spoken the whole time.

"Um. Thanks." Silverbolt smiled up at Skyfire, ignoring the way his hands felt slightly electric now, the way his plating did when he'd used his lightning in battle. "I suppose that serves me right for fiddling."

Skyfire was examining the wire he'd pulled off Silverbolt's fingers, frowning.

"Where did you find this?"

"On top of your tool tray. Why?"

"I've been looking for it all afternoon." Skyfire put the coil of wire down carefully in a clear space, where it was obvious, and cast Silverbolt an amused look. "I think I've been doing this too long. Would you like to go and get some energon?"

"Of course--"

The lab communication panel - buried somewhere under a heap of wiring and a pair of barely twitching converters - gave a peremptory beep. Just as Skyfire turned towards it, Silverbolt's comms pinged, and he opened the channel automatically.

:Silverbolt? Jazz here. We need you in ops, the mission's gone bad.:

:On my way.:

Silverbolt cut the connection. "Skyfire--"

"I know." Skyfire had managed to uncover the screen, and his expression was troubled. "They want me there, as well."

He began to make his way carefully through the cluttered lab towards the door. Silverbolt moved quickly to follow him.

"I didn't think you were usually called in to front-line engagements..."

"I'm not." Skyfire reached the door, palmed it open, then held the controls until Silverbolt was out in the corridor. "Which means something has really gone wrong."

:Can you see them yet?:

:Negative, but if they've managed to fall back to the extraction point, they should be within range of my scanners any moment now.:

:Okay.: Silverbolt pulled up a bit, rising higher in their formation, and radioed to the others, :Spread out, guys, we're almost there.:

The cacophony of responses - Air Raid's whoop of glee stood out particularly - was hardly professional, but was at least enthusiastic. Skyfire shuddered in relief as they spread out, though he managed to keep it down to no more than a quick wing-flick, easily disguised as turbulence. He wasn't used to having other flyers around - certainly not young, reckless flyers who liked to show off, or easily distractable ones who occasionally drifted slightly too close for comfort - and it was proving an unexpected strain trying to keep in formation with them. Skyfire had to fight the urge to pull out and head for the edge of the atmosphere, had to choke down the prickly, trapped feeling that this close flying had scraped up from a forgotten place in his spark. It had been millennia since he'd flown in atmosphere with anyone but Starscream (and how many vorns of their acquaintance had passed before he was comfortable with the Seeker on his wing?) and since his emergence from the ice he had become accustomed to his solitude in the air.

It didn't help that Silverbolt, despite technically being in charge of this operation, seemed reluctant to give him orders. Skyfire could sympathise with his hesitation - their friendship was rather new still, after all, and Silverbolt was younger than him - but Skyfire was not a formation flyer and he didn't have the Aerialbots' link to tip him off.

Still, they had made it this far, and now the Aerialbots had fanned out, giving him space, and Skyfire could concentrate on his part of the mission. Three bots too badly damaged for the ground fighters to get them out - he tried not to think about the fact that Perceptor was one of them - and they needed Skyfire to get them clear, get back to the Ark, before the main retrieval force swept in to try and turn the tide of the battle.

His sensors pinged.

:Got them.:

:Any sign of Decepticons in their area?:

:Nope, not a one,: said Air Raid, despite the fact that he wasn't the one who'd been asked. He was up high, higher than Silverbolt, rolling playfully with his flaps, and clearly spoiling for a fight. :I can see laser fire to the east, though!:

:It looks kind of like firebugs, from up here.: Fireflight, of course. :Hey, did you see that? That big green flash? What was that?:

:Probably a pulse weapon,: Skyfire told him. :Silverbolt - I'm getting Decepticon energy signatures making for the retrieval point from the north. Can you keep them busy while I land?:

:We're on it.: Silverbolt put on a burst of speed, drawing out ahead of their rather ragged formation. :Aerialbots, attack on my mark!:

The five young jets shot forward, and Skyfire had a few moments, before he had to start thinking about his own flightpath, to watch them in action. He had seen Seeker wings before - mostly in the recent battles, but once or twice before the war, when Starscream had dragged him to flight tests and galas - and was familiar with their precision work in formations. The Aerialbots... well, the most that could be said was that they were vaguely trying to keep together (no, that wasn't fair - Skydive and Silverbolt were holding their part of the pattern) and that when Silverbolt gave the order to attack, they obeyed without hesitation...

... and in perfect, unconscious synchronisation. Even though Air Raid barrel-rolled as he came down laughing, even though Slingshot fell behind as his faster team-mates put on a final spurt, even though Fireflight had to pull up sharply to avoid a spur of rock he had failed to recognise as an obstacle... watching them was like watching one being that happened to be in five different places. They always knew where the others were, and when Silverbolt gave an order, they obeyed it not in time with the words, but with some unheard, unseen cue that seemed to run invisible between the five of them. They had none of the polished perfection of a well-trained Seeker wing - but all the raw, wild grace of a natural dancer. Laser fire arced and flared, and the Aerialbots spun through it with such dizzying ease that it struck Skyfire in the same way as watching a breaking wave, or an incoming storm - something seemingly directed, with an intensity of purpose, and yet utterly without conscious control.

Gestalt, Skyfire thought, really appreciating the concept for the first time.

Then he was pulling the hard turn needed to get him down to the landing site without getting caught up in the battle, and he didn't have time to do more than keep his comms open and cast the occasional sensor sweep backwards towards the conflict. The landing was a tight one - there wasn't really room for a vehicle the size of his alt-mode to get down on it, but by initiating a partial transformation, he was able to make it. Before he could even get his ramp down, Ratchet was ducking under one wing, supporting a grimed and battered Sideswipe.

"How bad is he?"

"I've been better," Sideswipe replied for himself, lifting his head enough to shoot a weak grin at Skyfire, and then lifting a wobbly arm to show off something he was clutching tightly. "Look! M'leg came off."

"Shut up and sit down," snapped Ratchet as he hauled his sniggering patient into Skyfire's cabin.

The next few minutes were touchy ones. The laser fire started as Ratchet was coming back with an unconscious Perceptor. From the Aerialbots' comm talk, Skyfire gathered that it was the Combaticons to the north of them; he tried to suppress a surge of worry. The Combaticons were far more experienced soldiers than the Aerialbots... but he had to concentrate on his own task, sheltering Ratchet and his patients (Beachcomber was the worst off, but Skyfire didn't like what he'd seen in his quick scan of Perceptor) as much as he could without transforming. Just as Ratchet had secured Beachcomber, and Skyfire was closing his cabin doors as quickly as he could, there was a pause in the firing - and then a roar of challenge, and suddenly they were being bombarded by huge blasts of energy, vastly more powerful than the Combaticons' individual weaponry.

:Silverbolt!:

:Bruticus,: was the terse response. :We'll take care of him.:

Skyfire heard no order, but all at once the roar of the Aerialbots' engines changed their note, and cut out, and those devastating energy shots were turned from Skyfire to an unseen target. He risked a brief sensor-glance to the north, registered Superion grappling with Bruticus, forced down anxiety, and fired up his own engines.

The first part of the take-off went smoothly, but just as Skyfire thought he was clear, he realised he was going to clip the rocky outcropping at the far end. He had to bank so hard to avoid it that Sideswipe was flung across his cabin with a shout of alarm, although Ratchet had managed to strap his two unconscious patients down firmly enough that they didn't do more than slide a bit - and the medic himself had a grip like a vice on one of Skyfire's bulkheads. He made the turn, clawed for height, and after a few tense seconds, his scanners told him he was clear. With a quick reassurance over the comms - and a wince, Sideswipe had hit some sensitive panelling pretty hard - Skyfire came around to the heading that would take them back towards the Autobot base.

A barrage of laser fire cut the sky to ribbons around him. Skyfire choked down a curse: the Coneheads were supposed to be on Cybertron! How were they diving out of the sun at him in the middle of this minor skirmish gone so terribly wrong? He threw himself into evasive manoeuvring, but there were three of them, and they were faster - if he could just get higher, get some space, he'd be able to hold his own, but they knew that, and they were keeping him pinned to the earth, barely above the treacherous crags.

Then, with a howl of challenge, the Aerialbots caught them up. Air Raid dived recklessly through the Seeker formation, forcing them to scatter - at no little risk to himself - while Slingshot roared past them and then twisted on a wing, catching Thrust unawares and scoring across his fuselage with a derisive shout.

:Are you okay?: Silverbolt sounded worried as he drew level; Skyfire replied quickly in the affirmative. :Sorry we weren't here sooner - Bruticus took his time to go down.: A note of grim pride entered his voice. :But he won't be getting up again for a while.:

:Hey guys,: Skydive called over the shared frequency, cool and amused, :want to play tag?:

A chorus of shouts and cheers answered him. Four random blurs of colour momentarily became one coordinated line, diving down at the Seekers, then split into two pairs that angled in towards each other, crossing paths and then fanning back out. Fireflight and Skydive flew straight under the noses of Dirge and Ramjet, who turned at once to give chase, and Skyfire wanted to radio a warning, because the Seekers were right on their tails--

-- and then Air Raid and Slingshot were strafing them with gleeful whoops and derisive shouts, their own flightpath the mirror of their wingmates', setting up the perfect shot. It was an old manoeuvre, but effective if done right - and devastating when its targets were clearly not expecting any sort of co-ordination from their opponents. Ramjet spiralled groundwards with a squawk, while Dirge pulled off a hasty and painful-looking turn and roared skywards so sharply he almost stalled.

:They did it.: Silverbolt sounded halfway between pride and disbelief. :They actually did it!:

:Did you see that, Silverbolt?: Fireflight spun in sheer delight, leaving his brothers to chase down Thrust, who had already turned tail and was fleeing back towards the Decepticon forces with unseemly haste. :I didn't mess up!:

:You were brilliant!: Pride had won out. :Now we just have to--:

:Incoming!: shouted Air Raid. :Blitzwing and Thundercracker, heading for the main force!:

:Leave them,: ordered Silverbolt. :We have to stick with Skyfire.: A pause, then, with dismay, :Air Raid, get back here! Slingshot!:

:Don't be a turbo-chicken!: taunted Slingshot. :C'mon, Silverbolt, help us take them down!:

:Our orders are to head back to base with the wounded--:

:Screw that!:

:Slingshot!:

It was against battle protocol, but Skyfire opened a private channel to Silverbolt.

:Go after them. I'll be okay - we're clear of the danger zone now.:

:I can't just take off and leave you,: retorted Silverbolt, anger and frustration replacing that too-brief delight.

:I'm not defenceless. Go and keep them out of trouble.:

Silverbolt hesitated a second longer, then with a grateful dip of one wing, he turned and sped after his wingmates.

For a few minutes, Skyfire flew in silence, sensors strained back towards the battle.

"You gotta hand it to them," said Sideswipe finally, grudging respect in his voice. "They've got the manifolds."

"And all the common sense of a toaster oven," snapped Ratchet, busy with Beachcomber's damaged chest armour. "Get over here and help, would you?"

It took Skyfire so long to find Silverbolt that he began to worry. Silverbolt might have gone out flying again, and although, when he put his head into the repair bay, Ratchet told him that he'd given the Aerialbot leader the all-clear, the idea of Silverbolt flying alone, in the dark and in his current frame of mind, made Skyfire fret.

Not that he could be at all sure of Silverbolt's frame of mind, of course, but with one of his team in the repair bay and the other three in the brig, Skyfire guessed that it wasn't likely to be good.

In the end, Skyfire made up his mind to go out looking, but he didn't get more than a few steps from the Ark's main entrance before he heard voices - and one of them he knew at once was Silverbolt's. Turning to follow them, he found his way onto the well-used path up the lower slope of the volcano that lead to a broad plateau where the more outdoors-inclined Autobots were in the habit of spending their free time. Silverbolt was sitting on one of the large rocks that lay strewn about the area, talking to a predominantly blue mech that Skyfire took a moment to identify as Hot Spot, leader of the other gestalt team, the Protectobots.

Silverbolt looked up at Skyfire's approach - but as soon as he registered who it was, his optics dropped, and he refused to meet Skyfire's concerned gaze, toying with the cube of energon in his hands. Hot Spot turned, and relaxed infinitesimally - Skyfire only then realised that he'd been tensed - shifting in his seat to give a quick wave. Skyfire nodded in acknowledgement, but his optics were on Silverbolt, who was clearly uncomfortable - had he made a mistake in coming out here? Maybe they didn't want his company. Skyfire hesitated, half thinking he should just make an excuse and leave right away.

But Hot Spot seemed to see no problem with him being here; his faceguard was off, letting Skyfire see his quick, easy smile.

"You looking for us?"

"Yes," Skyfire replied, although it wasn't quite true, because he hadn't had any idea Hot Spot was here. "I just wanted..." He stopped, turned his attention back to Silverbolt. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," replied Silverbolt, apparently fascinated by the shimmering energon that cast a faint glow up onto his face. "Ratchet said I was free to go."

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Well, I'm fine either way."

"You're not," put in Hot Spot. "But you'd feel better if you'd drink that stuff instead of looking at it."

Silverbolt made a non-committal noise, tilting the cube so that the energon - high-grade, Skyfire realised, from the colour - made small waves against the side of the container. He still wouldn't look up, and Skyfire decided that he had better beat a retreat. An uneasy sort of ache had started near his spark at Silverbolt's clear desire he be elsewhere.

Hot Spot forestalled him just as he opened his mouth. With a sigh and a shake of the head, the blue mech turned an exasperated glare on Silverbolt and then picked up one of several cubes on the ground by his feet and held it out towards Skyfire.

"You'd better sit down," Hot Spot said, "this might take a while. I guess you know those little idiots - sorry, Silverbolt, but they really were this time - have got themselves in the brig again?"

"And the med bay," Silverbolt said, too quietly. "Believe me, I've had enough of defending them for one day."

"Fireflight's fine," Skyfire told him, coming closer and picking out a large enough rock to serve as a seat. Hot Spot's clear desire that he join them allayed some of his anxiety. He knew Silverbolt considered Hot Spot a good friend; if the other gestalt leader thought Skyfire's presence would be welcomed, Skyfire would take the chance. "I just stopped in at the med bay a few minutes ago. Ratchet says he'll be awake and fully recovered by tomorrow."

"He wouldn't even be in stasis if he hadn't panicked when Ratchet tried to work on him." Silverbolt finally lifted the energon to his lips and took a long drink. "And as for the others..."

"You can deal with it tomorrow," Hot Spot interrupted firmly. "None of them are going anywhere tonight. Help yourself," he added, as Skyfire took the offered cube and sat down, "I raided Groove's stock, there's plenty."

"Thank you," replied Skyfire, just as Silverbolt seemed to come out of his thoughts, looking between them with startled contrition.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I should have... have you two met? Hot Spot--"

"Yeah - Skyfire, right?" Hot Spot held out his hand and Skyfire, taken aback for a moment, recalled the Earth custom and shook it. "You helped us out with that operation in Ecuador... but you kinda vanished after that."

"I went off-planet for a while - surveying some of the further reaches of this solar system for resources."

"Well, I always meant to thank you for getting First Aid out of there when you did, so drink up." Hot Spot turned to Silverbolt with a grin. "Don't you remember? I said you should meet him, knew you'd get along."

"You did?" Silverbolt frowned. "I really don't recall..."

"I think you were in the middle of that whole argument with the FAA at the time. I'm surprised you could remember your own name by the end of it."

"Don't remind me," sighed Silverbolt, optics on his drink again, face falling back into unhappy reflection. "Primus, what a mess. Tomorrow I'm going to have to try and write it up into some sort of form that doesn't make my entire team look like dangerous lunatics..."

"You're exaggerating," Hot Spot said bluntly. "Even Prowl admitted they made a difference to the retreat."

"Was that before or after he asked me if I thought five days in the brig was really long enough?"

"Okay, I'm not saying he's your biggest fan right now--"

"The worst part," said Silverbolt in a low voice, "is that they were really trying, up until Slingshot got carried away..."

"Yes," Skyfire put in, "they were. And I think you're both being much too hard on them."

For the first time, Silverbolt looked directly at him, startled, and Skyfire made sure to meet his optics and hold them.

"You did a good job, all of you," he said. "Don't forget you took out Bruticus - and the way you dealt with that Seeker wing was superb. I've never been able to get people out that fast, or with so little trouble. I usually have to fight, and that adds time on until we can get the injured to med bay... as it was, Ratchet had Perceptor and Beachcomber back at the Ark before they got anything close to critical. Perceptor's awake, even, because Ratchet got his systems stabilised quickly enough that he didn't have to go into a deep stasis sequence."

Silverbolt made as if to say something, but the words didn't come. At the expression on his face, Skyfire put down his energon cube and leaned over to touch Silverbolt's arm. For a moment their energy fields overlapped, and Skyfire felt the hot rush of shame from Silverbolt - humiliation, that Skyfire had witnessed his gestalt's failure first hand, and guilt, that he'd been put at risk. No wonder he had been avoiding Skyfire's optics. And that look on his face...

"Did no-one think to bring any of that up in your defence?"

"Ratchet wasn't there," murmured Silverbolt. "But even so, they disobeyed orders--"

"Offhand," Skyfire interrupted, "I can think of almost a dozen instances where I've witnessed the twins directly disobey orders. I've heard of dozens more."

Silverbolt began to speak - to say it was no excuse, no doubt - but Skyfire carried determinedly on.

"Mirage has a bad habit of acting on his own initiative, without clearing it first. So does Jazz, for that matter, but he's got enough rank to get away with it. You must have heard Huffer and Gears disputing the mission briefs? Half the frontliners get carried away and go too far - and the other half hesitate when they're given an order."

The two young gestalt leaders were staring at him in open amazement now.

"In case you hadn't noticed," Skyfire told them gently, "this is an army of civilians. Not only that, its structure and discipline has been strained almost to breaking point here on Earth. I'm not saying," he hurried on before Silverbolt could protest, "that it makes what happened earlier okay. But I think you're holding yourself, and them, to unrealistic standards if you think they can master in a year what half the Autobot army has taken vorns to get a grasp of."

Skyfire found his cube again and took a sip. It was a nice blend, not great quality, but pleasant enough.

"And I don't suppose anyone has mentioned any of that to either of you, have they?" he went on. "I know how hard it is for some of them to remember that not all of us have been fighting from the start. Even Optimus Prime - who should know better, in your case, at least."

"Hmm." Hot Spot finished his cube and toyed with it thoughtfully. "Now that puts a different spin on things. Are the twins really that bad? I'll have to remember that next time they start in on Blades..."

"Let's put it this way, I don't think Prowl was joking when he threatened to take out their transformation cogs and sell them to the humans last week." Skyfire saw Silverbolt almost-smile, felt a quick spike of relief. He hated seeing Silverbolt look so defeated. "But their sparks are in the right place. At least," he paused, frowning thoughtfully, "I assume so. You'd have to ask Ratchet, he's had to put them back together enough times..."

Laughter - from both of them, but Skyfire was watching Silverbolt. He hadn't lost the tension in his wings, but he no longer had that guilty, frustrated look in his optics.

"Oh, Primus," sighed Silverbolt after a moment. "I wish they weren't all in the brig. Or the med bay, in Fireflight's case." He hesitated, added quietly, "I've never had to hand them all over at once before."

"We'll keep you company," said Hot Spot without hesitation - perhaps understanding, better than Skyfire could, exactly how Silverbolt felt.

"You don't have to," Silverbolt protested at once.

"It's a nice night," Skyfire said, settling himself more comfortably on his rock, taking another sip of high-grade. "Which reminds me - did I ever finish telling you that story about Epsilon Seven?"

Chapter Text

The sun was coming up behind them as they cleared the west coast of the United States and roared away over the Pacific. As soon as San Francisco dipped below the horizon, and they were clear of the shipping lanes, the five jets came down in altitude until they were flying barely above the ruffled ocean surface - though 'barely above', in the relative terms of the sky, was still at least as high as the average skyscraper. Skydive thought privately that it was probably more risky flying low down like this than at the higher altitudes, what with the others' tendency to play around, but it made Silverbolt feel better, and really, whatever Air Raid said (truthfully enough) about needing to stretch their wings, this excursion was primarily concerned with making Silverbolt feel better.

"So how did you get us out early?" he said into the contented silence that had prevailed since they'd settled into the flight. "It's a good thing you did - Air Raid was about to go cabin fever on us."

"I was not."

"You so were," Skydive said. "Normal mechs don't know that many verses of 'Who Put the Wingnut on the Wing Nut'."

"He made some of them up," put in Fireflight.

"That's even worse."

"Just because you don't appreciate my creative talents..." Air Raid's voice was cheerful, however, too overjoyed to be on the wing to take real offence. "But I'm not complaining about getting out early. How did you do it, Silverbolt?"

Silverbolt, when he had come to collect them, had been far too quiet. He hadn't even risen to Air Raid's teasing, and the four of them hadn't had to exchange glances - what need was there for optic contact when their linked sparks could flicker-pulse the unspoken worry/guilt/exasperation their leader so often inspired in them? - to make the decision that they needed to go flying, all five of them, somewhere far away from the Ark.

"I told Prime," he said now, voice rather tired, "that three days made the point as well as five. He agreed. And frankly, they can't spare us that long."

"Damn straight they can't," said Slingshot with satisfaction. "Wish they'd thought of that before--"

"Shut up, Slingshot."

Skydive and Fireflight spoke in unison, and for once, Slingshot did, though not without gunning his engines once in protest, pulling a little ahead.

But it was Silverbolt who couldn't let it go.

"I wish you'd thought of that," he said, voice rather cold and cutting. "I wish any of you thought at all."

"Oh, come on, Silverbolt." Air Raid rose a little higher, the better to catch the offshore breeze. "We saved their afts out there!"

"We had orders."

"They were stupid orders."

"They were," Skydive put in before Silverbolt could respond. "Skyfire had a clear run back to the Ark, and we were in a perfect position to cover the main force. You're supposed to be the Air Commander - you don't have to stick to a plan if the situation changes."

"Especially not when the plan's made by someone who can't even fly," muttered Slingshot.

"And if I thought for a second," snapped Silverbolt, "that any of you - with the possible exception of Skydive - had been thinking along those lines, you'd have a point. But can you honestly tell me that you had anything in your processors except showing off?"

"Sometimes you gotta go on instinct--" Air Raid began, but Silverbolt wasn't finished.

"The thing is," he went on, louder to override Air Raid, "the thing is, you're right, but can't any of you see - if I can't trust you to do as I say in the middle of a battle, how can I trust you enough to change plans on the fly?"

"You can trust us when it really matters," Fireflight said in a small voice.

"And when's that, exactly? How many Decepticons do we have to be fighting? How many Autobots have to be down? Or does it only really 'matter' to you if one of us is in danger?"

Silverbolt's voice had risen; he wasn't quite shouting, but he was angrier than they'd heard him in a while, and worse than that, there was something raw under the words, something that made Skydive's wings twitch and his spark contract. All at once he wished they hadn't set out.

"Never mind that Fireflight was almost scrap metal - if Bluestreak hadn't managed to get in that shot at Thundercracker, you'd have had worse than a broken cockpit!"

"Well, if you'd been up there with us instead of skulking down with the groundcrawlers--" began Slingshot, ignoring the short burst of static - shut UP, Slingshot - Skydive sent him on a private frequency.

"Don't call them that! I was trying to co-ordinate with the surface command--"

"You were scared to go up high! As usual!"

"Slingshot!" snapped Skydive. That was going too far, and they all knew it, all knew what lines you did not cross.

"It works both ways," said Slingshot, ignoring him. "It works both ways, Silverbolt! How can we trust you if you're down there with them instead of with us?"

"For Pit's sake, why can't you see it's not about them and us?" Silverbolt suddenly broke formation, all at once climbing steeply into the clear sky. "We're all Autobots!"

"Tell that to them!"

"Wait, Silverbolt, where are you going?"

Fireflight had the unhappy note in his voice that he always got when Slingshot and Silverbolt really fell out, and Skydive, pulling up to follow Silverbolt, felt that same sick unpleasantness lurking in his own spark. It wasn't just the argument: it was the way Silverbolt drew away from them like this, shutting himself off with his fears and the lurking sense of inadequacy they just couldn't seem to shake from him.

"Higher!"

"You don't have to," Fireflight pleaded, "we're okay down here, it's nice flying over the ocean--"

"Come on, Silverbolt, don't let Slingshot get to you, he's a dumb glitch who doesn't know what he's talking about," said Air Raid.

"Like you haven't said the same--"

"Shut up, Slingshot!"

Skydive would wonder, for a while afterwards, if Fireflight did it deliberately; eventually he came to the conclusion that no, it was just how Fireflight's luck - good or bad - seemed to run. The red jet, pulling up to chase after Silverbolt, tried for far too steep an angle; within seconds, his engines sputtered into a stall, and with a small shriek of alarm, Fireflight tumbled back towards the ocean.

There was a startled moment of silence, and then they were all diving to intercept, in severe danger of getting badly in each other's way, except that even bitter words and hot tempers couldn't damp down the spark-sense of how they all fitted together in the air. Air Raid and Slingshot were the closest; flying almost wing to wing, they raced to get themselves between Fireflight and what would be, at his speed, an impact easily as painful as on land.

"Fireflight, transform!" Silverbolt shouted, and even in the midst of panic, Fireflight obeyed without a second's hesitation.

Air Raid and Slingshot, at the last second, slowed their speed. Fireflight, flailing helplessly in his root mode, landed sprawled over their backs, one arm automatically clutching at Air Raid's nosecone, the other scrabbling for purchase on Slingshot's fuselage.

"Whoa, easy!" Air Raid dipped and for a moment looked like he'd have to drop Fireflight or crash, but he managed to pull back up. "You okay?"

"Uh huh." Fireflight's voice was very small, but he shifted his grip back along Air Raid's cockpit. "Thanks."

"We can't fly all the way back to land like this," Slingshot complained, though the fight had gone out of his voice, and Skydive didn't think the faint tremble in his wings was just the effort of keeping Fireflight up.

Silverbolt had drawn level with them; now he slid down even lower, skimming so low above the water that the spray must have been tickling his undercarriage.

"Can you get him onto my back?"

It took some careful manoeuvring, all at high speed, (and a small, analytical part of Skydive's mind wished that there was someone else here to see what they could do when they had to) but fortunately there was nothing in front of them but ocean, no need to turn or climb. Fireflight got a good grip around Silverbolt's fuselage with his legs, and then, very gingerly, let go of Slingshot and Air Raid, who immediately peeled off to give Silverbolt space. Silverbolt wobbled a bit with the added weight, but when Fireflight lay down flat, he pulled up smoothly enough to a safer altitude.

"Head back to the Ark," Silverbolt said, and there was no argument, even from Slingshot, as they wheeled around in a wide curve and flew straight back into the rising sun.

Well, almost no argument.

"You know," said Fireflight, "if you went up high, and I jumped off, I think I might be able to transform and fly and then we wouldn't need to go back--"

"You're not going to try it," said Silverbolt firmly.

"Okay," replied Fireflight, meekly enough. And then, so softly that they almost didn't catch it. "See? When it really matters."

In the end they didn't get as far as the Ark. Silverbolt landed on the first stretch of empty desert he came to, allowing Fireflight to slip off his back and stretch cramped servos, but rather than taking off again in his alt-mode, he transformed and stood on the sand next to Fireflight, watching the other three circle. He didn't say anything; he didn't have to. He heard Skydive exchanged a wordless radio-blip with Air Raid, and the two of them came in for a landing, followed, with only a few moments' hesitation, by Slingshot.

When they were all in root mode, Silverbolt walked up to Slingshot.

"What would you do?" he said quietly.

Slingshot, braced for a fight, stared at him blankly for a long second.

"What?"

"If you were in charge?" Silverbolt folded his arms over his chest and kept his optics locked with Slingshot's; sometimes there was no help for it but to take Slingshot on his own terms. "What would you have us do? Go off on our own? Ignore all our orders until they lock us up for good? Join the Decepticons?"

"Are you ever going to let that go?" Slingshot snapped, and you'd have to know him well - know him by spark - to catch the echo of hurt.

Silverbolt did know him that well. The anger went out of him all at once, leaving a gnawing guilt in its place.

"I'm sorry."

Fireflight or Air Raid would probably have responded to that with easy affection, willing to forgive and forget; Skydive might have swallowed his pride and returned the apology. But Slingshot was Slingshot, and it would take a miracle to get those words past his vocaliser. Slingshot stood frozen for a klik, fists clenched, and then turned away with a growl and a helpless, violent gesture of one hand.

"I don't know, okay?" His shoulders hunched, wings flicking in agitation, and Silverbolt didn't need to see his face to read his emotions. "I don't know what I'd do. I don't know what you should do. I don't know why I hate taking orders from them, but I do!"

It was as close to an apology as he was going to get. Silverbolt knew it, they all knew it, Slingshot himself probably knew it, deep down under all the prickly words and posturing. Guilt yawed wide, along with a dreadful weariness, and the cold, clammy feeling that he just wasn't good enough for this.

"I know, Slingshot. I'm sorry."

Slingshot didn't respond. After a moment, Silverbolt sat down on the sand with a sigh. As if on cue, Fireflight darted in close and tumbled down next to him, leaning up against his larger brother for reassurance as much as support. Air Raid drifted nearer, and Skydive followed, and Slingshot turned back around and looked down at them and, with a grimace, said, "I hate sand in my gears."

"I'll clean them for you," Air Raid promised, flopping down on the sand almost across Fireflight's and Silverbolt's feet, wriggling until he was comfortable. "It's nice and warm, anyway."

That was all it took; within moments they were all stretched out on the sands, already hot in the mid-morning sun, staring up at the clear, blue, endless sky. With the exception of Fireflight, who clung to Silverbolt like he was welded in place, they weren't touching physically, but they didn't need to; their energy fields lapped into each other, sharing emotions and not-quite-thoughts, a private sea of self shared between the five of them, almost as close as if they were combined.

"I wonder if we'll ever get off this planet," Skydive mused aloud.

"I like it here," protested Fireflight softly.

"It is pretty cool," said Air Raid. "I like the weather. Did you know if it rains on Cybertron, it's acid?"

There was a murmur from the others; no, they hadn't known.

"We belong here," said Silverbolt.

"We don't belong anywhere," Skydive corrected him. "We're not like the Protectobots; they didn't program us to want to look after humans."

"I like humans," said Fireflight. "Spike went flying with me last week. It was fun."

"Hot Spot isn't programmed any differently from how we are," Silverbolt said. "He and the others just had longer to learn about Earth before they were brought fully online."

"Nice," muttered Slingshot. "Wish they'd thought of doing that for us."

"The circumstances were different."

"Don't you ever think," said Air Raid, unusually serious, "it isn't fair?"

"I think," said Silverbolt with quiet conviction, "that Optimus Prime did the best he could in a difficult situation. I think we're doing the best we can with what we've got. And I think I'd rather be here, like this, than still in stasis in Vector Sigma's databanks."

"Sometimes I wish I could remember who I was before," Fireflight said. "Except then I think, what if we weren't all together, back then?"

"I don't." Silverbolt shifted fractionally, one foot scraping Air Raid's arm. "It would be like waking up and finding everyone you knew was dead." His voice dropped. "I don't know how Skyfire lives with that."

"What do you mean?" asked Air Raid, for the first time failing to react to mention of Skyfire's name.

Silverbolt told them.

"Oh," said Fireflight, into the silence that followed. "No wonder he looks so sad."

Silverbolt sat half up so he could look down at Fireflight in surprise.

"He doesn't."

"Yes," said Fireflight, meeting Silverbolt's optics with that quiet inexorability he sometimes displayed, "he does. When he thinks no-one's watching. When he's watching the other Autobots. He looks sad."

Silverbolt settled back onto the sand, unnerved that he hadn't noticed... except, now he thought about it, he could see what Fireflight meant. He just hadn't thought to put it into words.

"I still don't like him," said Slingshot abruptly, as if he'd come dangerously close to seeing someone else's point of view for once, and wanted to cover up.

"He can't half fly, though," murmured Skydive, almost to himself. "Didn't you see him the other day? Those Seekers didn't land a single shot."

"Some of us were busy with your dance number," Air Raid replied, and for the first time since they'd landed, the cheerful, teasing note was back in his voice. "That was fun, you know. Can we do it again?"

"They'll be expecting it next time," Skydive said. "Though we might be able to use that against them, too."

"So we come up with something even better," said Air Raid. "And by 'we' I mean 'you', oh master tactician."

"I'm sorry," said Silverbolt, torn between disbelief and laughter, "did I just hear you volunteer for manoeuvre practice?"

"Well," groused Slingshot, rolling over onto his front, his wing coming into light, but definite contact with Silverbolt's, "it wasn't like we knew it was useful before, was it?"

Skyfire had become so accustomed to Silverbolt turning up after his shift was over that, when he appeared in the lab unexpectedly, Skyfire thought for a minute that he must have lost track of time. But no - a quick check of his internal chronometer confirmed that it was indeed the middle of uptime for both of them. That, coupled with the fact that Silverbolt looked so serious, had Skyfire momentarily worried.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, but could I... ask you a favour?"

"Of course."

"I was just wondering... could I work in here for a bit?"

Skyfire belatedly realised that Silverbolt was carrying a stack of datapads, several stamped with the glyphs that meant no unauthorised access, and that he wasn't upset, just stressed and distracted. Skyfire's spark went out to his friend - but he hesitated.

Silverbolt caught it, smiled tiredly.

"I promise I won't distract you," he said. "I just... need somewhere quiet to get this done. The common room is too noisy and even if I lock myself in my quarters, one of the others is always interrupting."

Of course - Silverbolt should, by rights, have an office of his own - it was one of the privileges of command rank - but the Ark was already stretched to the limits of its capacity, and having to find basic accommodation for ten new recruits hadn't helped. Well, Skyfire thought, casting a glance over several of the projects now in his lab, they might be able to do something about that soon. And in the meantime, he could at least make Silverbolt's life a bit easier.

"I won't be very good company," he warned, moving to clear a space on one of the work benches - most of the solar generators were gone, but there were still more piles of wire and bits of mechanism lying around than Skyfire's tidy mind was really comfortable with. "If you don't mind being ignored..."

"Honestly, that's exactly what I need." Silverbolt followed him across the lab, the relief and gratitude in his face enough to compensate for Skyfire's misgivings. "I sent the others out to the shooting range and made a run for it."

"Do you need to use Teletraan-1?"

"Umm... that might be helpful, actually, if you don't mind..."

Skyfire activated the computer terminal and found Silverbolt a chair. Then he hesitated. No matter what Silverbolt said, it seemed rude to just go back to his work... but Silverbolt looked up at him and smiled, already with more energy than when he'd come in, and said, "Thanks. If you want me to go at any point, just say."

"Stay as long as you want," Skyfire replied, putting one hand momentarily on Silverbolt's wing, a nearly unconscious gesture. Silverbolt leaned briefly into it; then Skyfire stepped back, and Silverbolt reached out to turn on the first of his datapads.

And to Skyfire's surprise, that was all there was to it; after the first half hour or so, he found it remarkably easy to forget Silverbolt was there (well, except for the vague, pleasant awareness of his presence that always coloured the time they spent together) and simply carry on as usual. He should, Skyfire realised after a while, glancing at Silverbolt's back, have known that Silverbolt wasn't someone who had to talk for the sake of it. For a moment Skyfire studied his profile as he scanned over something on one of the datapads - he was frowning faintly, but in concentration, not annoyance, and it was rather captivating - charmingly intent.

In the end, Skyfire became so engrossed in his own work that he was startled when his internal alarm went off, signalling the end of his shift. He looked over at Silverbolt in surprise, but Silverbolt was still working quietly, using Teletraan-1 now to run flight simulations over and over, making notes on his datapad.

"Silverbolt?"

"Hmm?"

"Didn't your shift end a while ago?"

"Yes," Silverbolt replied distractedly, "but I need to just... oh, I'm sorry--" He looked around, chagrined. "-- shall I go?"

"Not unless you want to." Skyfire came to stand beside him, watching the simulation on the screen. "I have plenty of things to get on with and I usually do run over into downtime... how about another hour, and then we go and refuel?"

"I suspect it's going to take more than an hour to get anywhere with this," Silverbolt sighed, "but that sounds like a good idea. And Air Raid's been trying to comm me, I should probably let them know where I am."

"What is it you're doing? If it's not classified."

"I'm trying to put together a long-term strategy against the Decepticon air forces." Silverbolt toyed with his datapad dispiritedly. "Prime asked for it - we can't keep letting them catch us out like they did a few weeks ago. But there are so few of us, and I don't know where to start..."

And you have no experience of this sort of command, thought Skyfire, and no back up, and I expect Optimus made it sound like it should be as easy as falling off a girder, because that's how he is... he's so confident everyone will do their best that he doesn't remember to explain that he doesn't expect miracles... which is probably why he gets them, of course.

An idea that had been slowly coalescing over recent months reared up at the forefront of Skyfire's processor. He considered it, watching Silverbolt get distracted by his simulation once more, weighed up pros and cons, and made a decision.

"Can I help?"

Silverbolt turned to look at him, surprised, and then smiled hesitantly.

"Do you know anything about aerial strategy?"

"Not especially." Skyfire found another chair and sat down. "That wasn't what I meant. I'm a scientist first, and I am generally of more use to the Autobots in my lab, but I can fight - and, more importantly, I can fly. Lately I've only been assigned long-distance patrols and emergency retrievals, because this particular project took priority, but we're in the process of wrapping up the last of the initial research - it's going to be up to Grapple and Hoist now, at least until they start needing consultations on some of the details."

Silverbolt's rapt attention was on Skyfire, simulations and reports forgotten.

"I was going to see about continuing my research into Earth history and culture, travel around a bit," Skyfire went on. "But... I could request more front line assignments. If it would help you to have another pair of wings..."

"It would... but," and Silverbolt looked like he was torn between gratitude and guilt, "I wouldn't want to... it seems like such a stupid waste, to have you fighting when you could be--"

"-- indulging my curiosity?" Skyfire shook his head. "To be honest, I don't feel... that I've entirely pulled my weight since I joined the Autobots. To start with I wasn't sure how I felt about any of it - I knew I didn't want to stay with the Decepticons, but ten million years of war is hard to get your processor around..."

Silverbolt nodded, warm understanding in his optics.

"... I've been trying to carry on as much as I was before the ice as I can. But I'm starting to realise..." Skyfire cast a glance over the lab, such a little room, reclaimed from a ship of war, full of projects he hadn't chosen to work on and promises he'd never expected to make. "... I can't just ignore it. If we all had that luxury, there wouldn't be a war - or maybe we'd have lost long ago. There are certainly enough on the other side who take pleasure in it," he added, with a twist of personal bitterness.

"Skyfire..." Silverbolt reached out, apparently unconsciously; his hand brushed Skyfire's. "Your work is just as important as fighting."

"I know." Skyfire caught hold of Silverbolt's hand, giving him the reassurance of field contact to see that Skyfire meant what he was saying. "Don't worry, this isn't a crisis of confidence. And I'm never going to be a career soldier. But I want to do something... that isn't sitting in a lab... to help."

To help you, he finished, unable to quite say it aloud.

His fingers slid between Silverbolt's, easily interlocking; Silverbolt dropped his optics to look at their joined hands, as if fascinated. Skyfire caught the swirl of surprise and concern in his field, along with a faint ripple of something Skyfire could not name, but that was a lot like the mirror of the way he felt whenever he had occasion to touch Silverbolt: electric, full of promise.

"I..." Silverbolt's fingers tightened for a moment, then he drew them reluctantly away from Skyfire's. "If you could... if you did... it would help. We... need more long-range capability and that's mostly down to me... the others can't go so high and they don't have the staying power. But... are you sure...?"

"I'm sure. I'll speak to Optimus Prime about it as soon as we've finished with all of this." Skyfire gestured to the lab, then reached over and turned off the computer terminal decisively. "And I think we should go and refuel now." Then, seeing Silverbolt's hesitation, "I don't make promises I don't intend to keep."

"I know," said Silverbolt, smiling in a way that made Skyfire's spark flip over, made him sure that Silverbolt, too, was thinking back to their first meeting. "Skyfire... thank you."

"Don't thank me until you've tried working with me," Skyfire replied, as they both got to their feet. Silverbolt stretched, wings trembling faintly from the release of tension. "I'm not really used to following orders."

"You can't," sighed Silverbolt ruefully, "be any worse than the rest of them that score."

"I thought they'd been better recently?"

"Oh, they have." Silverbolt gathered up his datapads, checked they were all switched off, and subspaced them. "Mostly. When they remember..."

"Skyfire?" Perceptor sounded amused. "You have a visitor."

"I have a... what?" Skyfire straightened and turned towards the door. "Oh - hello, Fireflight."

"Hi!" Fireflight was peering over Perceptor's shoulder with great interest, and Skyfire was glad that they had cleared out the last of the solar converters the day before. He had visions of finding the young jet completely cocooned in wires. "I was looking for your lab and then I got lost and then Perceptor--"

"... found him under one of the samples you brought back from Pluto," Perceptor finished, without rancour. He was a hard mech to rile at any time, and from the look of things he was finding Fireflight quite entertaining. "He wanted to know if he could hear the sea in it. I told him to ask you."

"The sea?" Skyfire was baffled.

"Groove said," Fireflight began eagerly - edging around Perceptor to get into the lab properly, optics bright with interest as he took the place in, "that Carly said that if you hold a shell to your ear you can hear the sea, but there weren't any shells big enough for me to try it, and then I saw that one in there..."

"It's not a shell," Perceptor put in, "it's actually a very interesting formation of metamorphic and igneous rock that may well have significant impact on current theories as to the origin of the planet--"

"Oh. Well, maybe that's why it didn't work. Do you think if I could find a really big shell--"

"Do you know," said Perceptor thoughtfully, "You've just given me an idea. I must just go and re-examine the mass spectrometry..."

With that, he was gone. Fireflight hardly seemed to notice, too wrapped up in contemplation.

"-- or maybe it needs to be a particular kind of shell..."

"I suspect," Skyfire interrupted, unable to hide a smile, "that either Carly was teasing Groove, or he has misunderstood. Maybe you could ask her about it?"

"I guess. But she's not coming to visit again until next week."

Beneath the chatter, Fireflight seemed fidgety and uncertain. Skyfire carried out a quick mental evaluation of his workload, decided that he could spare some time, and switched off the equipment he had been working with.

"Was that why you came looking for me?"

"Oh, no." Fireflight looked with interest at the machinery. "What does this do?"

"It tests the density and durability of metal alloys."

"How does it do that?"

Skyfire eyed Fireflight thoughtfully. Though the younger mech's bright optics didn't waver, he did shift slightly from one foot to another.

"I don't believe," said Skyfire, "that anyone has that short an attention span."

Fireflight seemed to hunch in on himself, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"I'm just interested."

"And I'm happy to explain it to you, but first of all I'd like to know what's brought you here." Vague concern reared its head. "It's not Silverbolt, is it? Is he alright?"

"No, no, Silverbolt's fine. Well," Fireflight hesitated, "I mean, mostly fine, you know they keep giving him more and more to do..."

"I know."

"But no, nothing's wrong. Except," and Fireflight finally looked up, optics pleading, "could you look at my wings?"

"Your wings?"

"I, um, I did something to the left one. While we were out flying earlier. Air Raid had a look at it but I think he made it worse, and now it kind of hurts and I feel all off balance when I'm in the air, and please don't tell Silverbolt--"

Now that he'd started, Fireflight seemed determined to say everything in one breathless rush.

"--he's got so much else to worry about and he'll tell me to go to Ratchet and I can't and--"

"Fireflight, slow down."

Instinctively, Skyfire reached out and took hold of Fireflight's shoulders; he'd always found physical contact worked well on highly-strung flyers. Fireflight didn't shy away from the touch, and the jumble of emotions Skyfire picked up through the brush of their energy fields spoke volumes for his state of mind. He'd heard people say (unkindly) that the jet hadn't a thought in his processor; Skyfire was coming to realise that it was more the case that he had too many, and didn't know how to choose between them. He reminded Skyfire strongly of Perceptor, back when they'd first met at the Academy, except that Perceptor had always had a more rigidly categorical mind, could file and sort his myriad ideas while he followed one to its conclusion.

"Silverbolt said you'd had medical training," Fireflight said, as if that explained everything.

"I'm qualified in field repairs," Skyfire corrected, "and I've done a lot of work on integrated functional systems, but I'm not a medic. But," he went on as Fireflight's face fell, "I'll have a look."

With Fireflight perched on the workbench to put him at a better height, it wasn't hard to spot the problem: the flaps on the left were sitting crooked, not properly retracted at rest and, Skyfire suspected, stiff and unresponsive in flight.

"I'm just going to scan you," he told Fireflight, who made a small noise of consent. "How did you damage it?"

"Um." Fireflight wriggled as Skyfire's scan sent ripples through his energy field, and then said, sheepishly, "I hit a tree. Only a little one!"

"How did you manage that?"

"It was growing all by itself on the top of the cliff, and I was trying not to hit the cliff, but I didn't know the tree was there, so I didn't pull up enough..."

Skyfire considered the skewed flaps, and the results of his scan, and a suspicion began to form in the back of his processor.

"Can you move it backwards and forwards?"

"Sure."

Fireflight winced as he flexed the damaged flaps, but Skyfire had seen what he was looking for.

"Okay, hold it there..."

Skyfire grabbed a pair of pliers and poked them into the gap, took a moment to get a grip, and pulled out a pliant section of tree branch.

"I think," he said, "I've found the problem."

Fireflight turned to get a look at what Skyfire was holding.

"Oh," he said, surprised. "Was that in my wing?"

"It was." Skyfire examined the branch and compared it to his knowledge of Earth flora. "Looks like a young birch. You must have flattened it if you crashed into it at speed."

"It did fall over," Fireflight admitted, "but it just fell over all in one piece, so I put it back and it seemed okay."

"Well done," said Skyfire, trying to hide his amusement. He put the branch down on his workbench. "How's the wing now?"

Fireflight flexed his flaps cautiously - Skyfire didn't need to scan to see that they were sitting easier now - and sighed with relief.

"Much better."

"You should really go and get it checked in the repair bay, in case there are any fragments in the hinges..."

Fireflight stiffened up, hands suddenly tight on the edge of the bench, and Skyfire was still close enough to feel the flash of real fear that went through him at the suggestion. Startled and more than a bit alarmed, he set down the pliers and, very gently, turned Fireflight to face him.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Fireflight said to Skyfire's chestplate. "I just don't like med bay."

"Especially if Ratchet's in it?"

Fireflight made a mumbled, non-committal noise. Skyfire had heard from Silverbolt about Fireflight's issues with Ratchet, but he had attributed it to a phobia of repairs more than actual fear. That flash of reaction, though - that was nothing like Silverbolt's problem with heights, or the nerves Bluestreak suffered when he had to go into voluntary stasis. It was a stark, focused terror, and it was directed solely at the chief medical officer.

"Fireflight?"

"I don't want to lose my wings," Fireflight whispered.

Skyfire stared at the huddled young jet in front of him, for a moment too shocked to say anything at all.

"What are you talking about?"

"He said," Fireflight went on, voice so quiet Skyfire could barely hear him, "he said if I keep flying into things he'll take my wings away and turn me into a, a dodgem car, and then Sideswipe-- and the others all-- and I know I'm clumsy and I know I don't look where I'm going enough--" his voice rose to a wail, hands coming up to grab at Skyfire's chestplate for support or comfort, "--but I can't lose my wings!"

"Fireflight!" Skyfire caught hold of his hands and wrapped his own longer fingers securely around them. "No-one is going to take your wings away from you. Or reformat you into anything other than what you are."

Fireflight's head came up, optics so bright with Primus knew how many months of stacked-up terror that Skyfire's spark went out to him. He thought about the kind of things Ratchet said when he was annoyed - silly, throwaway threats that no-one could possibly take seriously - no-one except someone too young and impressionable to know better - and Primus, no-one in this place had a clue how to deal with flyers, of course Ratchet wouldn't realise what it meant to be grounded... and Skyfire himself was only just coming to realise how deeply Fireflight felt things, how seriously he could take quite innocuous occurrences. He was the very definition of gullibility, believed everything anyone said to him out of the conviction that they couldn't possibly want to lie; Skyfire knew just what sort of response that was likely to get from the next mech along, faced with a hushed question about whether Ratchet really would... especially if the next mech along had been Sideswipe.

Skyfire discarded his first impulse, which had been a brisk, no-nonsense denial, and spoke instead as soothingly as he could.

"I know Ratchet says things like that sometimes, but he doesn't mean it." Skyfire consciously expanded his field so that it lapped against Fireflight's, opening up his own emotions to show he was completely in earnest. "In fact, if he's threatening to turn you into something ridiculous, it usually means he's relieved you're not badly hurt. You never hear him making jokes like that when someone's really injured." A thought occurred to Skyfire, all at once. "Fireflight, do you know what a dodgem car is?"

A mute shake of the head.

"It's a kind of toy for humans," Skyfire explained. "A little miniature car designed to crash into others as much as possible. You couldn't possibly... he was just teasing you for bumping into something. When was this, anyway?"

"A while ago," Fireflight murmured. The disproportionate terror had eased, but his optics were still fixed pleadingly on Skyfire's. "After the time I went to Alaska by accident. Are you sure he didn't mean it? He shouted at Slingshot."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. What was Slingshot doing at the time?"

"Um, trying to stand up, I think."

"It's my experience," Skyfire said, "that Ratchet usually only shouts at people if they're doing something stupid. No offence to Slingshot."

"Oh, no," said Fireflight, with a flash of that brilliant smile, "Slingshot is pretty stupid sometimes. Right after that he fell over and knocked off a whole rack of flasks."

Skyfire imagined Ratchet's probable reaction to that, and was torn between wincing and laughing. But the shadow of that fear was still in Fireflight's face, and he was determined to erase it once and for all.

"Ratchet would never dream of changing anything about you without your permission," he said gently. "Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. There are rules, you know, about that sort of thing."

"There are?"

"There are. And on top of that, I know he would be horrified if he knew you were so scared of him because of a thoughtless remark. In fact," and Skyfire took a step backwards, tugging at Fireflight's hands so that the younger mech slid off the workbench with a startled squeak, "we are going to go and talk to him right now so he can tell you exactly what I've just said."

"Are you... are you sure he won't shout at me?" asked Fireflight, looking up at Skyfire with wary hopefulness.

"He might a bit," Skyfire admitted, tugging Fireflight gently towards the door, "but I absolutely promise he won't mean a word of it."

Chapter Text

It was the first time Fireflight had seen Ratchet speechless. Ever. He was almost more scared by that than he would have been by shouting. He wasn't allowed to hide behind Skyfire, but that table over there looked big enough to give him cover...

Then Ratchet seemed to recover; his face went through a rapid sequence of emotions and ended up in a familiar scowl that had Fireflight edging, despite himself, one step nearer to Skyfire's reassuring presence. Skyfire's hand brushed his wing lightly, his field tranquil, and Fireflight's nervous spark settled down again.

Then, to Fireflight's utter amazement, Ratchet laughed, shook his head, and cast a strange glance at Skyfire - like he didn't know whether to thank him or throw something at his head.

"You're quite a piece of work, aren't you?" Ratchet stalked towards Fireflight, paused a foot away from him, and lifted a hand to poke him in the cockpit. Fireflight tried hard not to squeak. "Want to know a secret?"

Fireflight wasn't sure if he did, but he nodded anyway, because even if Ratchet wasn't shouting, he did still look terribly fierce. Ratchet put a hand on his shoulder, leaned in to speak directly into his audio receptor.

"I've never reformatted anybody. Primus help me, but I like all of you just the way you are." He leaned back, gruff good-humour on his face, and something that was almost a smile. "Besides, if I ever change my mind, those twins are first on my list. You'll have plenty of time to get away."

Ratchet stepped back, but not before Fireflight caught the dusty taste of an unspoken apology in the momentary mingling of their fields. Startled, he would have said something to acknowledge it, but Ratchet had turned away briskly and was already speaking again.

"Now, let's see that wing of yours. Didn't anyone ever teach you that the scenery's for looking at?"

Hastily, Fireflight launched into his explanation for a second time, tumbling over the words in a rush of relief and surprise, and somewhere in the middle he remembered something he'd seen on the canyon floor, and asked Skyfire about it. And the wonderful thing about Skyfire was that he didn't seem to think there was any such thing as a stupid question, and even if he didn't know the answer he could take guesses, or suggest where Fireflight could go to find out, and he didn't mind at all if the conversation started off with lizards and ended up on whether or not turning seventeen barrel rolls in a row really could make you dizzy enough to crash, or if Air Raid had just gotten distracted.

"The five of you," Ratchet put in eventually, just as he ran a high-powered vacuum nozzle under Fireflight's wing flaps, making him giggle and squirm, "are meant to combine into one mind, not share it. I'm starting to think you've only got one processing loop between you - and Silverbolt's the only one who puts it to use!"

The words didn't sting, not when Ratchet's energy field kept making glancing contact with Fireflight's, telegraphing little currents of amusement, exasperation, and - amazingly - affection. Fireflight wondered if First Aid knew that Ratchet was really kind of nice, then decided that probably he did, because why else would he have gone back to the medbay after the first time Ratchet had kicked him out? It was a bit like the way Slingshot bristled up until he was three times his own size with nasty remarks and scowls, but Fireflight had been in his spark and knew better. He wondered if everyone was like that: one thing on the outside, something else on the inside.

"There. Done."

Ratchet stepped back, and gave Fireflight a light push. Fireflight obediently hopped off the table, and turned around with a hesitant, hopeful smile. Ratchet fixed him with a stern look and raised his spanner to point at Fireflight's nose.

"And what have we learned from this?"

Fireflight had to think about that. Don't fly into trees, seemed the obvious one, but the thing was, it wasn't like he meant to, so it didn't do him much good. Watch where you're going, was another, but he did try, honest... Don't let Air Raid dare you, was the one Silverbolt kept on about, and he supposed there was some truth in that, but then, it was so much fun daring Air Raid back... and he didn't think Ratchet would appreciate You're actually secretly nice, although Fireflight thought that was the really big thing he'd learned, even though really it was Skyfire who'd shown him that, not something he'd found out for himself...

"Skyfire knows everything," he said aloud. "Even more than Silverbolt."

"I beg your pardon?"

Skyfire sounded so startled that Fireflight was worried he'd offended him, but Ratchet's unexpected roar of laughter distracted them both. After a moment, Skyfire's expression settled isomewhere between embarrassment and surprise, while Ratchet thumped his hand on the table once or twice and finally got control of himself. Fireflight's internal comm bleeped at him.

"Oh!" he said. "I've got to go, Air Raid and Slingshot are coming to find me--"

"Primus forbid," replied Ratchet dryly. "Go on with you. Out! And I don't want to see you in here again for at least a week."

Fireflight scuttled towards the exit, but Ratchet called after him, "By which I mean I don't want you knocking over any more Earth flora, not that you're to run off and hide if you do, got that?"

"Got it!"

Just as he darted through the door, he heard Ratchet say to Skyfire, "Well, that's two of them. Which are you going to bring me next?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You seem to be collecting jets." Ratchet sounded like he was grinning, but Fireflight didn't have time to turn around and check. "Or are they collecting you?"

*

:So, what, we need a minder now?: Air Raid grumbled over the Aerialbots' private frequency as they reached cruising altitude.

:I'd like to see him try,: retorted Slingshot, hostility bristling in his voice. :If he thinks he's gonna tell us what to do...:

:Silverbolt's in command,: said Skydive, and it was only the faintest inflection on the words that made it clear he was reminding Silverbolt of that fact. :Not Skyfire.:

:Just so long as--:

:Get off the private comms,: Silverbolt cut in. :Public frequencies only when we're on patrol.:

Air Raid tilted his wings this way and that, letting the slipstream play around the flaps, and chewed on his resentment in silence. A small part of his mind was aware that not only was Silverbolt right about the regulations, but that it was slagging rude to have a conversation on a private channel like that; thing was, normally it didn't matter when they were on patrol, because normally it was just the five of them.

He didn't know exactly why Skyfire was tagging along. Silverbolt had said they needed to get used to working with other people in the air, but since Skyfire was the only other Autobot jet (if you didn't count Powerglide, which Air Raid, personally, didn't), Air Raid figured what he really meant was that they needed to get used to working with Skyfire. Which presumably meant that the shuttle was going to be around a lot more. Great. Just great.

Air Raid gained a little height, and shot a quick, glancing scan at Skyfire, who was flying above them (and Air Raid didn't like that much, either; it made him feel pinned down and claustrophobic). The larger flyer gave no indication of noticing, or that he'd been aware of the conversation going on around him. Watching him easily keep pace with the Aerialbots, engines thrumming unhurriedly, Air Raid's spark twitched with something between envy and resentment. They were the Autobots' air force; they were the wings of the Ark; they were the kings of the air. Omega Supreme was powerful but awkward in atmosphere; Cosmos useless for anything but surveillance; Powerglide had too short a range for more than quick reconnaissance. It had been easy to dismiss Skyfire when they could laugh at his size and mock his alt-mode, but now they'd seen him fly, Air Raid was too honest a 'bot to ignore the fact that he was at home in the air as they were.

Thing was, Silverbolt liked him. Fireflight liked him too - wouldn't shut up about him, in fact, ever since Skyfire had engineered some mysterious cure for Fireflight's fear of medbay. Fireflight hadn't really explained what exactly that had been about, but the part that struck Air Raid was that Skyfire, somehow, had been able to do what none of Fireflight's brothers had. And Air Raid was torn between wanting Skyfire to butt out of their lives, and wondering what was so great about the guy. He just seemed... dull. Too bland and mild-mannered. Probably a stickler for the rules and bound to disapprove of any playing around while on duty.

Well, let him disapprove.

:Hey, guys,: said Air Raid, :bet you I can reach the edge of the cloud bank before the rest of you!:

He shot off out of formation without giving them a chance to respond. Slingshot gave a spluttering yell of protest and was on his tail in a second. Skydive was barely a wing length behind.

:Air Raid!: snapped Silverbolt. :Cut it out!:

Air Raid waggled his ailerons defiantly at his gestalt leader. Stupid Skyfire, messing things up. Normally Silverbolt would race with them. Normally he wasn't so uptight about things like staying in formation. Not when it was just the five of them.

Slingshot was nosing up under one wing, trying to make him lose speed by altering course. It didn't work so well on Air Raid as it would on another flyer - the gestalt link gave him too good an awareness of just how close Slingshot was to let him get spooked - but all the same, it meant he had to concentrate harder on his flying, and before he knew it, Skydive was level with him.

:Should've given yourself a bigger headstart.:

Slingshot suddenly side slipped, tilted up on one wing, and flipped right around Air Raid in a barrel roll. Gestalt link or no, Air Raid was startled enough to duck away from the unexpected shadow that flashed across his canopy, and the precious few seconds he lost gave Skydive more of a lead, and allowed Slingshot to slip back into position just a fraction further ahead.

:That was impressive,: remarked someone, and it took Air Raid a minute to realise that it was Skyfire - he'd all but forgotten they were talking on the open channel.

:That was cheating,: Air Raid retorted, pushing his afterburners to their limit and chasing after his brothers.

:Hey, now, cut him some slack - it's not like Slings is going to win an outright race,: Skydive put in.

:Frag you!:

Two brothers ahead of him, one a good long way behind, refusing to play - but what had happened to the fourth?

:Hey, Fireflight? Where are you?:

:Winning,: came the prompt, cheerful response.

Air Raid quickly cast a scan ahead and on both sides, but there was no sign of Fireflight.

:What the frag...:

:He's away over to the west,: came Skyfire again, sounding puzzled but amused. :Flying almost at right angles to your course.:

Air Raid exchanged a wordless burst of static with Skydive and Slingshot.

:Um, Fireflight? Did you get your nav system scrambled or something?:

:Nope,: replied Fireflight, indecently smug, :but you never said which edge.:

Aw, wingnuts... Sure enough, the cloud bank was longer than it was wide, and while Air Raid and the others raced for the still distant clear air directly on their flightpath, Fireflight was bare seconds from the closer edge to their left.

:That doesn't count--: Slingshot was yelling, even as Fireflight shot out into space, crowing with triumph.

:I think, technically, it does,: said Skydive, resigned. He slackened his speed, letting Air Raid and Slingshot barrel past him. :Guess that's the race to Fireflight...:

:Nah, it totally doesn't count,: Air Raid replied, gunning his engine harder now that he had a clear run. :You knew what I meant, 'Flight!:

:Hey!: Fireflight had been doing victory loops; now he spun around on an intercept course, though he had no hope of catching up while they were at full burn. :It does count! You just said 'to the edge'! I figured you meant the nearest edge! It wasn't my fault you all went off the other way--:

:Knock it off, Fireflight,: said Slingshot, still hassling Air Raid's slipstream.

:No fair!: Fireflight whined. :Hey, Silverbolt, it does count, right?:

:I think it does,: Silverbolt replied. There was unexpected amusement in his voice. :If you don't state your terms clearly enough at the start, Air Raid...: Oh, so that was it - Silverbolt wasn't above a little payback. :I say the race goes to Fireflight.:

:Silverbolt...:

:Don't be a sore loser, Air Raid.: Skydive had dropped behind; he was practising solo manoeuvres as he waited for the non-racers to catch up. :It's not like you were going to win anyway.:

Over Air Raid's protests and Slingshot's renewed complaints that it hadn't been a proper race, Skyfire unexpectedly cut in: :I don't know, I think he might have surprised you, Skydive. His alt-mode is--:

:Nobody asked you!: Air Raid snapped.

There was a startled silence on all sides, and it was only then that Air Raid registered what Skyfire had actually been saying. He felt like a total, utter moron, but what the Pit was he supposed to do about it? Skyfire had shut up without further comment, and Air Raid couldn't quite seem to get any of the possible apologies out of his vocaliser.

:That's enough messing around,: said Silverbolt. The light-heartedness had gone; he was back to sounding distant and stern, and Air Raid knew that was mostly his fault, and felt even worse. And even more annoyed. :Air Raid, Slingshot, slow up and wait for us. Fireflight, keep on your course. Skydive, stop doing that.:

They obeyed in mostly-silence, except for Fireflight, as he drew level with Air Raid, saying meekly over the comms, :We don't have to count it as a real race if you don't want to.:

:It's fine,: said Air Raid. :You won.:

He could feel Fireflight's uncomfortable uncertainty through their link, but he ignored it as Silverbolt and Skyfire finally caught up. Skyfire settled back into place above them, his shadow falling across Air Raid's wings and making him want to tear off again. He hated having someone over his head like that. He hated people trying to get in between him and his brothers. He hated stupid patrol duty when Silverbolt was in an uptight mood. He hated the slagging cloud bank for being narrower than it was long.

:We need to head north two degrees, and then go on up over the mountains,: Silverbolt was saying. :Hound and Trailbreaker reported traces of past Decepticon activity on the plateau there. It's been abandoned, but we need to go in and do a sweep.:

:Boring,: Air Raid blipped to Slingshot, who gunned his engine in sulky agreement. :Bet we find absolutely nothing.:

As it turned out, he was right, in a way. The Decepticons found them first.

*

You had to hand it to the 'Cons, Air Raid thought, somewhere in between dodging Thrust and whipping around to try and shoot Ramjet off Fireflight's tail: their timing was perfect.

Or, from the point of view of the Aerialbots, really, really bad.

Ten minutes earlier, and they would've been fine. Ten minutes earlier, and they would still have been flying in a group, before Silverbolt decided to split them up to cover more ground. They needed to get on with the rest of the patrol, he'd said, so they wanted to check this area over as quickly as possible. Skyfire had disappeared up a few thousand metres to do something or other - Air Raid wasn't clear what, but Silverbolt seemed to think it would be useful - and then Air Raid and Fireflight had headed up an interesting canyon to the north-east while Silverbolt took Skydive and Slingshot with him to the plateau Hound and Trailbreaker had mentioned.

They'd been due to rendezvous in five more minutes. Seriously, couldn't the Decepticons have waited?

Because right now Air Raid and Fireflight were pinned by the Coneheads - and slag, were the sons-of-glitches ever crowing about it - while the brief transmissions he'd gotten from Silverbolt, before they'd been drowned out by the crackle of jamming static, had indicated that they were up against Starscream's wing, and coming off just as badly. Maybe worse - Silverbolt's last comm had cut out suddenly, and Pit, he wasn't built for flying down low in these canyons, but he had to be okay, just had to, Air Raid would've known if he wasn't...

"We've gotta get back to the others," he shouted to Fireflight.

Ramjet was still doggedly on his brother's tail; Air Raid gave up shooting at him, put his nose down, and accelerated. Ramjet might like crashing into others, but he wasn't so keen to be on the receiving end - his nerve broke just before Air Raid's, and he twisted away with a torrent of foul language and a couple of desultory laser bursts.

"How?" Fireflight sounded panicky, but still in control, and he was flying well. "They've got us pinned down! We can't get enough height to reach that plateau..."

Over the shared comms, Skydive suddenly cut in loud and clear, though he wasn't talking to them - :For Pit's sake, get them off Silverbolt!:

:Trying,: snarled Slingshot. :Fragging Skywarp...:

"Air Raid, look out!"

Fireflight's yelp and the warning shriek of proximity sensors came at the same instant. Ramjet had rolled around until he had a clear run at Air Raid - "Turnabout's fair play, Autodolt!" - who was already too close to the rocky wall. There was nowhere for him to go - Ramjet was going to slam him into the cliff, and while the Seeker's reinforced nosecone would probably cushion him from the worst of the impact, Air Raid's unprotected fuselage wasn't likely to come off so lucky...

Then all at once Ramjet was engulfed in a barrage of laser fire that came from somewhere directly overhead. Taken by surprise, the Decepticon had no chance to dodge, and several of the blasts pierced sensitive wings and scored deep black scars into his cockpit. Ramjet howled in equal parts rage and pain, and dropped out of the air like a stone. Air Raid was so startled that he almost flew into the wall on his own.

:Skyfire!: Fireflight sounded like he'd never been so glad to see anybody in his life, and Air Raid was inclined to agree. :We've got to get to the others, I think something's happened to Silverbolt--:

:My long-range scanners are being jammed,: Skyfire replied, and although he sounded grim, his voice was still remarkably calm. He was well above them, free of the canyon trap, and even as he spoke, a few more well-placed shots forced Dirge to abandon the attack he'd just started and peel away. :I saw you two were in trouble, but I couldn't spot the others anywhere.:

:We can find them,: Air Raid said, heading for the window Skyfire had opened up, feeling a surge of relief and fierce joy as he pulled away from the deadly cliffs, back to the clear night sky. Fireflight was hot on his tail. :Through the link. We always know where we are.:

He wasn't sure that made sense, but Skyfire seemed to understand.

:I'll follow you and try to keep these three off your backs.:

:Two,: Fireflight piped up, and Air Raid could feel his surge of renewed confidence. :I think you took Ramjet out for the count.:

:Ha! One down, five to go.: Air Raid concentrated on his innate sense of his brothers' sparks, turned in that direction, and opened his engines up to full burn. :We'll make them think twice about cowardly sneak attacks! I bet it was Starscream's idea. Leave him to me!:

:No,: replied Skyfire with such unexpected venom that Air Raid would have turned to stare if they'd been in root mode, :I think you had better leave Starscream to me.:

*

When Silverbolt snapped back into consciousness, the first thing to draw his attention was that he was on the ground, which was never a good sign in the middle of an aerial battle.

The second thing was that he hurt.

The third was that there was an awful lot of laser fire splashing across the rocks to either side of him, he was still in his alt-mode, and he had no idea how long he'd been offline. Instinctively, he transformed.

... now he hurt a lot.

:Slingshot? Skydive?:

:Oh, thank Primus,: replied Skydive at once. :Can you get back in the air?:

Diagnostics had finally kicked in, red flags scrolling down Silverbolt's peripheral vision. Even without the cascade of bad news, a glance at the steep terrain around him negated any possibility of take-off from his current position.

:Don't think so. What's your status?:

:Fragged off.: Slingshot certainly sounded it. :I'm gonna weld these slaggers' nosecones to their afterburners...:

:Starscream's wing are on us,: Skydive interrupted. :They've been trying to take you out since you crashed, we've been keeping them off. Sounds like Air Raid and Fireflight are in trouble too.:

:Skyfire?:

:No clue.:

Overhead, Thundercracker roared suddenly into a dive directly at Silverbolt, cannons blazing. Silverbolt ducked into the meagre shelter of a small overhang, pulled his gun from subspace, and fired off a couple of bursts that made the blue Seeker think twice about his assault. He peeled off and shot out of sight.

:Okay,: Silverbolt said, though the situation was far from it; the word just gave him a second's pause, time to pull himself together. He ran a cursory scan of the terrain, checked for incoming Seekers, then scrambled painfully up the slope until he reached a handy fold in the rock that gave him a bit more cover. :I need you two to force them this way so I can--:

:We're not forcing them anywhere,: Skydive cut in, :they've got us pinned - they're not coming down below the cliff tops and we can't get above.: The spatter of laser fire punctuated his words. :We shouldn't have come down into the canyons.:

:I know that. Shut up, I need to think.:

Silverbolt tried his hardest not to snap, wishing that just for once Skydive would keep his advice to himself. It wasn't any use now, and Silverbolt had known he'd made a mistake the moment they came under fire. He just hadn't expected to find anything of interest, let alone two full Seeker wings. Primus. He was going to have words with Hound and Trailbreaker when they got back.

Assuming they did get back.

No, that was ridiculous and panicky and not helpful. The first thing they needed to do was break this carefully laid trap, and while Silverbolt getting grounded wasn't a good thing by anyone's standards, it did at least present him with the possibility that he could climb up to the top of the canyon, which the Seekers probably hadn't anticipated. Possibly. Hopefully. He shifted, trying to see a good route up the slope, and bursts of pain from various parts of his body jarred his processor. More diagnostics flashed up. Silverbolt did his best to ignore them.

:Keep them distracted,: he said. :I'm going to try and climb--:

:Hey guys!: Air Raid's voice rang out over the comms, disgustingly cheerful. :Miss us?:

:Oh, you decided to turn up, did you?: replied Skydive, managing to sound bored right in the middle of a roll that took him perilously close to the canyon wall, but threw Starscream momentarily off his tail. :Thought you'd found something better to do.:

:Yeah, well, you know how it is, places to be, people to shoot in the tail...:

Relief washed through Silverbolt as Air Raid and Fireflight came barrelling down madly from on high, scattering Thundercracker and Starscream, and forcing Skywarp to teleport out of combat range. Slingshot took immediate advantage of the opportunity to gain height, while Skydive stayed low for long enough to pay Starscream back with a few shots that grazed his wings. Less welcome was the sight of two more Seekers coming in after Air Raid and Fireflight, but at least they were evenly matched now, five on five, even if Silverbolt was on the ground...

One of the pursuers suddenly side slipped and lost height as he struggled to evade a volley of shots from higher up. Skyfire swooped down, harrying the unfortunate Seeker almost into the ground, then pulling up to go after the other one.

:Silverbolt? Are you okay?:

:I'm fine,: Silverbolt answered, trying not to let his nearly overpowering gladness into his voice. :Where's Ramjet?:

:Down, I think. Can you fly?:

:No, but I can shoot. Stay high and make sure the others don't get boxed in again.:

:Copy that.:

Overhead, Silverbolt's brothers had come together in a rough formation, a moment of unconscious synchronisation, and they didn't need the joking back-and-forth to show their relief: it pulsed between all five joined sparks. Silverbolt caught sight of Skywarp flashing out of existence, and snapped off a warning. When the Seeker reappeared a few seconds later, he was very nearly in Air Raid's direct sights. The undignified squawk that accompanied his hasty warp to safety had Air Raid, Slingshot, and Fireflight howling with laughter. They weren't out of the slipstream yet, Silverbolt thought, but even the steady drone of increasingly urgent diagnostic warnings couldn't stop his spark lifting. He ruthlessly shut out the alarms, braced himself against the pain, and began to climb up the steep slope to get a better view of the battle overhead.

:Hey, Slingshot,: Air Raid was saying, :why don't we do that thing?:

:What thing?:

:You know, that thing.:

:Oh. That. Yeah, sure, whatever.:

Silverbolt didn't see what manoeuvre they pulled, but it was punctuated by a gleeful holler from Air Raid, a roar of overtaxed engines, and a trailing yelp from whichever unlucky Seeker they'd caught in their crossfire.

:You should really keep your ailerons level for that last part,: Skydive commented.

:It worked, didn't it?: retorted Slingshot. Then, :Watch your left wing!:

:Skydive, roll windward!: Silverbolt snapped, seeing the danger - Thundercracker sliding in from seemingly nowhere, guns trained on Skydive's fuselage. Slingshot and Air Raid were still looping back from their run, Fireflight was playing catch-as-catch-can with Thrust... :Skyfire, get Thundercracker off him!:

:Got it.:

Skyfire didn't so much as hesitate, going into a smooth dive that was spark-stoppingly graceful to watch. Just for a second, Silverbolt forgot the battle - forgot how much he hurt - in the awareness of how beautiful Skyfire's alt-mode was, gleaming silver in the moonlight, diving like a swan into the battle.

Laser fire crackled across the ground behind him and scored agonisingly over his wing. Silverbolt threw himself to the side, but the shots kept coming, hounding him into a frantic scramble for the cliff top as his attacker roared closer. There was no time to turn and shoot back; Silverbolt made one final effort, hauled himself over the cliff edge, and barely managed to roll out of the way as his pursuer fired what would have been a direct hit if Silverbolt had been a few seconds later. Then Starscream flashed overhead, a streak of red and silver, and Silverbolt kept rolling, coming up on his knees, readying his gun. Starscream spun on a wing, throwing out Silverbolt's first shot, but the second hit him under one engine - not enough to bring him down, but certainly enough to put a wobble in his flight. In a few seconds he'd be in position to strafe Silverbolt again, but if Silverbolt could just get off a couple more shots...

Except then Starscream did something completely, utterly insane - he transformed in mid-air, letting his momentum carry him forward and down. Silverbolt's shots went wide - he'd been aiming where Starscream would have been if he'd still been flying in jet mode - and before he could register what was about to happen, Starscream had crashed bodily into him, throwing him to the ground with the force of a gestalt's fist.

The impact made Silverbolt's systems momentarily glitch out. He came back online a split second later to the feeling of Starscream's hands on the fuel lines in his throat, and mocking red optics boring into his. He struggled, but although Starscream was smaller than him, he was deceptively strong, and Silverbolt was injured. His gun was on the ground some metres away.

"Let's see how well they fly without you playing ground control, shall we?" Starscream's hands tightened crushingly, fingers seeking out weak spots with clinical accuracy. "Or how Superion does without a body..."

Warnings were screaming in Silverbolt's audio processors, and his vision was crackling as vital relays were interrupted, but somehow, he managed to get his hands up to scrabble at Starscream's forearms. Starscream sneered at the effort, but Silverbolt wasn't trying to throw him off.

He just needed a conduction loop.

Lightning leapt and crackled between them. Starscream's high-pitched shriek almost deafened Silverbolt. The Seeker's grip slackened and he threw himself backwards to break the circuit. Silverbolt cut the electrical surge immediately. His root mode wasn't designed to handle the volts that he normally channelled through his nosecone: he could feel his circuits scorching from the current. Awkwardly, he started to scramble to his feet - only to be met with a blast from Starscream's null-rays that threw him straight back to the ground.

"Wretched little upstart," Starscream spat, dragging himself onto his knees and keeping his weapons trained on Silverbolt. "You dare call yourself an Air Commander?" He got to his feet, not without some effort, and stalked slowly forward. Silverbolt could hear the whine of his weapons charging. "I'm going to start by nullifying all your primary relays, and then, when you're completely helpless, I'm going to tear those ugly wings right off your--"

Whatever other delightful entertainments Starscream had planned, Silverbolt wasn't destined to find out. Just as Starscream raised his arms to make good the first part of his threat, laser fire exploded at his feet, forcing him to leap backwards. A split second later, the ground shook as Skyfire dropped out of the air in root-mode to land bodily in front of Silverbolt.

Silverbolt fully expected Starscream to beat a hasty retreat. Instead, the Seeker made a hissing, furious noise, raised his null-rays, and fired directly at Skyfire's spark. Silverbolt choked out a warning, but Skyfire had already side-stepped; his gun was in his hands, and the next thing Silverbolt knew, Starscream was sprawled on the ground spitting curses.

Somewhere above them, two of Silverbolt's brothers whooped gleefully and there were the sounds of a Seeker getting thoroughly shot to pieces. Silverbolt could feel his damaged systems preparing for an involuntary shut down, but he struggled to remain conscious. At least Starscream was out of the battle - Skyfire could disable him easily with a couple more shots.

Except Skyfire didn't shoot. He seemed frozen, watching Starscream struggle into a sitting position. He only moved when Starscream started to raise his null-rays - a pointed gesture with his gun that made Starscream subside, glaring furiously.

"Ill met by moonlight," said Skyfire, a sad sort of whimsy in his voice. It was gone when he spoke again. "Are you going to leave, or are you going to make me shoot you?"

"You wouldn't dare!" Starscream retorted, optics flaring.

"Try me."

Starscream hesitated, but self-preservation seemed to win out over defiance. A sly look came over his face, and when he next spoke, his tone was almost conversational.

"What's dragged you out of your lair, traitor? Did you finally get tired of Autobot drone-work? Or are you demeaning yourself as their taxi again?" He smirked, openly provocative. "Do tell."

"It's nice to get out once in a while," Skyfire said, with that deceptive mildness that Silverbolt had learned was a sign of suppressed anger.

Apparently Starscream knew it too; his smirk broadened. He seemed no longer aware of the battle around them: his entire attention was on Skyfire in a way that sent prickles of unease all through Silverbolt's field.

"And do you enjoy the company? Don't think I didn't see you taking orders from that newsparked brat behind you." Starscream darted a malicious look in Silverbolt's direction. Silverbolt wished he could reach his gun. Or he'd settle for standing up, actually. "You should stay in the lab. It's pathetic, seeing how far you've fallen."

"You've spent enough time in space to know that direction is relative, Starscream." Skyfire's gun arm tensed, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Go."

"Or what?" Starscream's voice was poisonously sweet. "Would you really shoot an old friend?"

Silverbolt's optics were starting to lose power; he thought distantly that he needed to check up on his brothers, but he couldn't seem to make his comm work. Even speaking - or reaching out to Skyfire, who looked, at that moment, so very alone - was beyond him. Almost unconsciously, he opened himself up through the gestalt bond and tugged. There could be no words in that spark-deep communication - no commands or requests - only a formless, intense burst of feeling shared with the four sparks linked to his.

"Silverbolt?" gasped someone over the comms, but Silverbolt couldn't reply in words: his systems were going into shutdown, warnings telling him to conserve power until he had been properly repaired. All he could do as he slipped into darkness was hold onto that one imperative: help him!

*

"...is he waking up?"

"I dunno, that burn damage looks bad..."

"Guys, maybe we should back off and give Skyfire some room."

"I'm done, I think. He should be fine as long as he stops fighting full stasis."

"Why would he do a stupid thing like that? Hey, Silverbolt, can you hear me? Shut down already!"

"Yeah, we've got things covered - the 'Cons have run home with their tailfins between their thrusters, nobody's hurt--"

"Hey!"

"Okay, nobody's hurt except the guy who got himself shot in the aft..."

"Hey!"

"Oh man, you've got actual scorch marks all over your scrawny--"

"Frag you!"

"Guys--"

"Wow, he really has got scorch marks--"

"It's okay, Silverbolt - you can shut down now, I'll carry you."

*

"How are you feeling?"

"Better." Silverbolt lowered his datapad and, rather guiltily, blanked the screen so Skyfire wouldn't see the report he was working on. It was all very well for Ratchet to tell him to relax and get some rest, but his subroutines were still firing on their highest level after the battle, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to get any satisfying defrag until he'd put down some of his observations and conclusions from their encounter with the Decepticons. "Are you okay? I know you got hit a few times..."

"Nothing major." Skyfire crossed the medbay after a quick glance in the direction of Ratchet's office, and from the cursory scan Silverbolt was able to make, he was telling the truth. "It's been seen to. It was you we were worried about. The others said you fell pretty hard."

Silverbolt looked down to hide his grimace. There were few things more humiliating for a flyer than being shot right out of the air, and he had hardly even had time to react when they'd come after him. They had concentrated their attack on him deliberately, he was pretty sure - even before Starscream had cornered him on the cliff, the three Seekers had been going out of their way to separate Silverbolt from his wingmates and disable him in any way possible.

Thinking of Starscream stirred a question in Silverbolt's processor, but he squashed it down before it could escape, something uncomfortable and heavy settling his spark.

"It's mostly damaged wiring and an overloaded circuit or two," he said, watching Skyfire come closer out of the corner of his optics. It was amazing how lightly he moved - not as graceful on the ground as he was in the air, but Silverbolt had never seen him knock against anything, nor make any more noise than the average mech. "Ratchet's running an overnight diagnostic to check there's no incremental damage, but he says I'll be fit for duty within twenty-four hours."

"I think you've probably earned more of a break than that," Skyfire replied with mild reproof, but there was a smile on his face as he took a seat by Silverbolt's berth. "Besides, I gather that Prime wants to rethink the air patrol patterns to prevent a repeat occurrence."

"He does?"

"Well, you did make it pretty clear that you didn't appreciate being ordered straight into a trap..." Skyfire's optics slid to the monitoring equipment hooked up to Silverbolt's body, and though his voice was still light, Silverbolt thought there was a trailing tension in his wings and hands. "Right before you passed out the second time, which I think may have emphasised your point."

"I. Uh." Silverbolt fought a losing battle against the embarrassment that coloured his voice. "It really wasn't intentional - I can think of more comfortable ways to make a statement..."

Skyfire laughed, then, and the tension eased out of him. Silverbolt cast a glance at his discarded datapad with a small frown.

"Still, I'd thought he'd want my report before he made any sort of decision..."

"Prime trusts your judgement," said Skyfire, and cocked his head at Silverbolt's startled expression. "What? Do you think he'd have given you command if he didn't?"

Before Silverbolt could reply, Skyfire reached over and picked up the discarded datapad, flicking the screen on to reveal the incriminating report. Silverbolt snatched futilely at it, but Skyfire held it easily out of reach, with the sort of faint smirk that Silverbolt was more used to seeing on Air Raid.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting?"

"I am resting," Silverbolt grumbled. "I can't relax until I've got it all out of my processor..."

But Skyfire was reading the report in earnest, now, the laughter going out of his face, and Silverbolt remembered all at once what he'd been writing about just before Skyfire came in. His description of the trap and how he suspected it had been set up specifically to disable the Aerialbots, and Superion, had digressed into half-formed thoughts on Starscream and the threat his Seekers represented to the Aerialbots - the kind of thing Silverbolt would edit out of the final report, but needed to put down in words to get it straight in his own mind.

"I was just, er..."

"Yes," Skyfire said slowly, without raising his optics, and Silverbolt took a moment to realise that he was responding to the words on the screen. "I think you're right. Starscream does not like to be challenged on his own terms. He rarely has the patience for such involved strategy, but I suspect he considers your existence a personal insult. And he can be... extremely persistent when he feels his pride has been assaulted."

He didn't sound overly bitter, but there was a tightness to his voice that Silverbolt didn't like. He found that he really didn't want to go any further with this - didn't want to know what it was, exactly, he'd witnessed - but the next words seemed to line themselves up inexorably in his vocaliser until he had no choice but to speak them.

"You... you seemed to know each other. More than, I mean, not like..."

Skyfire sighed, and put down the datapad, gaze straying to a far point on the wall and staying there, as if fascinated by the pipework. Silverbolt almost thought he wasn't going to answer, and he was almost glad. Then Skyfire seemed to make up his mind.

"We knew each other before the war," he said. He was picking his words with exquisite care; Silverbolt wondered how many others he was discarding. "It was... it was Starscream who freed me from the ice."

"Oh."

The implications of that sank in slowly. Skyfire's earlier explanations came rushing back - he'd been misguided, he'd said, and not properly understood what was at stake when he'd initially joined the Decepticons. Silverbolt had wondered, at the time, what he wasn't saying; someone as good as Skyfire couldn't have made such a huge error in judgement lightly, he'd thought. Now here was the answer, so obvious Silverbolt could have kicked himself: wicked, treacherous Starscream, who'd so easily bewitched Silverbolt's own brothers, who could talk his way out of anything up to and including treason, who was, despite everything, so fascinating to Autobot and Decepticon alike that neither side had ever put an end to his sly existence...

"So you were...?"

"We were research partners." Skyfire dropped his optics to his own hands, flexing the fingers lightly. "He was a scientist, once. We explored the galaxy together. That's how we ended up here. How I crashed."

"... oh."

"He wasn't always so..." Skyfire gestured helplessly, lacking words to describe Starscream. "We used to be friends. But not, I think, any more."

Well, of course not, Silverbolt almost blurted out, but the sadness in Skyfire's voice stopped him. He couldn't imagine how his clever, kind, generous friend could ever have tolerated Starscream's grating personality - but then, it had been so many millions of years ago.... Silverbolt felt, all at once, very young.

And he wished he'd put a few thousand volts more through Starscream when he'd had the chance, self-preservation be fragged.

Skyfire was sitting just close enough that Silverbolt could touch him, if he stretched. His hand landed rather awkwardly on Skyfire's knee; Skyfire's gaze snapped to him, startled, but then he relaxed minutely, and shifted his chair a bit closer, taking Silverbolt's hand in his own.

"It was a long time ago," Skyfire said, with an air of finality.

And Silverbolt could have let it go at that, knew the door was being held open for him to make his escape, but the look on Skyfire's face just then had gone straight to his spark and stirred up something that was half the protective instinct he felt for his brothers, half something new and strange. He made himself push his own feelings about Starscream aside, and tightened his fingers on Skyfire's.

"Was it?"

"What?"

"It can't have been a long time for you," Silverbolt pressed on. Skyfire hardly ever said it aloud, but ever since Fireflight had pointed it out, Silverbolt had started noticing that particular expression on his face - the look that said he didn't feel he belonged. "That must be hard."

Skyfire gave a surprised half-laugh; his field, curling against Silverbolt's, flared an odd mixture of pain and relief.

"Yes," he said, optics meeting Silverbolt's, "but it's getting easier."

Chapter Text

"I think," said Skyfire, when the pyrotechnics had died down, and he felt it was safe to lower the arm he'd thrown up protectively in front of his optics, "that we may have made an error in that last set of calculations."

"You don't say." Perceptor had been the quickest to react. His voice was coming from under the workbench. "Am I likely to retain all my limbs if I emerge?"

"You're a pair of cowardly crankshafts," Wheeljack told them cheerfully, wiping soot off his faceplates with no evidence of dismay. He hadn't even reacted to the sudden ignition of their pet project; Skyfire could only assume that long experience had taught him to recognise the severity of a lab incident in mere nanokliks. Or possibly his reflex subroutines were just burned out. "That was barely a toaster fire. At least we know it works."

"For a given value of 'works'." Skyfire prodded the sad mess that had melted itself onto his workbench with a tentative finger. "We know it produces the sort of energy range we need, but as for it being in a useful form..."

"Oh dear, I've just had a thought," came Perceptor's disembodied voice. "Did anyone think to compensate for the double switchback we installed in the tertiary module?"

There was a pause, as the two standing 'bots looked at each other. Skyfire groaned, and Wheeljack's fins flashed the peachy colour of embarrassment.

"Yeah, that'd be it. Frag. Sorry, guys."

"Neither of us thought of it either," Skyfire pointed out.

"The switchback was my bit, though, I shoulda..."

"We learn by doing," Perceptor intoned solemnly from floor level. "And occasionally by exploding."

Skyfire leaned over the workbench to peer curiously at his friend.

"Do you plan to rejoin the land of the vertical any time soon?"

"It's surprisingly pleasant down here, actually. I was thinking of getting comfortable."

"Oh, Primus, not you as well..."

That got him a curious look from Wheeljack, while Perceptor laughed merrily and unfolded himself neatly from under the workbench.

"Fireflight," said Skyfire, for Wheeljack's benefit.

"He does get into the strangest places," Perceptor agreed, wandering over to examine the mess they'd created. "Though he generally has the most excellent reasons."

"I'm a little afraid to leave them alone together," Skyfire murmured to Wheeljack, who snickered. Perceptor pretended primly not to hear.

"What's with that, anyway?" Wheeljack asked, tilting his head curiously at Skyfire. "Every time I come in here lately, you seem to have our entire air force for company."

"Only Silverbolt and Fireflight," Skyfire protested. "Silverbolt just needs somewhere quiet to work, and Fireflight... I don't know, Fireflight is so interested in everything, I don't have the spark to turn him out. He's no trouble."

Well, except when he inadvertently poked something, dropped something, distracted Skyfire at a critical moment, or couldn't take a hint and shut up for five minutes - but Skyfire, with a little prompting from Silverbolt, had discovered that the best approach was the direct one. Fireflight was surprisingly amenable to being told it was time to go, and Skyfire found that he didn't mind the distraction when he knew that he could put an end to it whenever he needed to.

Besides, Fireflight wasn't really in the lab that much - he was just hard to miss when he was there. It was Silverbolt who seemed, increasingly, to be a fixture, sometimes just for a couple of hours, sometimes for most of a shift, if he had a lot of paperwork to get through. Skyfire was starting to find that he missed it when Silverbolt was elsewhere - he missed having someone to talk to, and even the companionable silence when they were both busy with their own tasks.

"Some of the circuitry seems to have survived," Perceptor commented. He had been delicately picking apart the scorched pieces of metal. "Could you lend me a servo, Wheeljack? I think if we can salvage the resonance amplifier and some of the osmetrics, we should be able to have another working model by the end of the shift."

"I'm on it."

Skyfire surveyed the pall of smoke that lay over his lab, reached over to activate the environmental clean up controls, and then checked his internal chronometer. There wasn't a lot he could do until his companions had rebuilt the device - his work mostly involved the later stages and managing the resultant energy conversion. It was frustrating to be left idle when they were so close to a breakthrough that could fundamentally alter the entire Autobot mission, but he didn't think he could concentrate on anything else for the time being.

"I'm going to go and refuel," he said. "Comm me when you're done?"

"Sure." Wheeljack was busy prying the melted heat pump off Skyfire's ruined workbench. "Hey, Perce, you think you could snag that loop there--"

Skyfire left them to it. The halls of the Ark were quiet as he made his way to the common room. The primary shift schedules had recently changed, so that most 'bots were either on duty or deep in recharge at this point; only a few were enjoying downtime, and most of those seemed to have vacated the Ark to enjoy the reportedly sunny weather they had been having. Skyfire hadn't been outside the Ark for days, too caught up in his projects; all of a sudden he felt the urge to stretch his wings.

Well, he didn't need to refuel that badly. Skyfire changed direction, heading for the entrance.

It took him a moment to register the sounds coming from around the next corner - hushed voices arguing, the odd bump and scrape, and a clatter as someone dropped something, quickly followed by a whispered, "Quiet!" and a murmured apology. Skyfire slowed warily. He was well aware of the sort of thing that bored Autobots got up to in their downtime, particularly the younger ones, and he had no desire to be caught in one of Sideswipe's notorious pranks.

That voice had sounded familiar, though. With a feeling of foreboding, he peered around the corner.

Sure enough, it was the Aerialbots - well, three of them. There was no sign of Slingshot or Silverbolt. The thing that really drew his attention, though, was not the sight of Fireflight, Air Raid, and Skydive trying to sneak along the corridor out of sight of the security cameras, nor even the bizarre assortment of tools and components they were carrying, but the - thing - they were dragging along between them.

"What are you doing?"

All three of them jumped guiltily. Fireflight gave a small squeak and dropped a length of pipe - for the second time, judging by the similarity of the noise it made when it hit the ground. Three pairs of optics watched it roll down the corridor and stop at Skyfire's feet, before snapping upwards to his face. Fireflight immediately relaxed, worried expression melting into a smile of greeting, but the other two looked like Skyfire was the last person on Earth they wanted to see.

"Hi Skyfire!" said Fireflight brightly. "Look what we made!"

Skyfire bent to pick up the pipe, briefly scanned it to make sure it wasn't dangerous - not that he really expected it to be - and held it out. Fireflight darted forward to take it, leaving the other two to support their... creation.

"Oh, I'm looking," Skyfire said. "You made that? I thought perhaps you'd found it in a swamp."

There was a snigger from Air Raid. He patted the monstrosity affectionately.

"That's the idea," he said. Then, unable to resist showing off, "Does it work?"

"Well, it looks very... organic..." Curiosity overcame trepidation. "What did you make it from? It can't be plastic, the texture's all wrong."

"Some stuff Carly told us about," said Fireflight. "Pap - er - papper something?"

"Papier-mâché," Skydive corrected. "Pulped paper and glue."

"You wouldn't believe the mess it makes," Air Raid added. "Then we had to paint it, and varnish it to make it look all slimy..."

It did look slimy, Skyfire had to admit. In fact, it bore a striking resemblance to those toads Fireflight had been so interested in a week ago. The mottling effect had been painted on with painstaking care, and someone had fashioned a pair of truly creepy glass eyes that bulged from the misshapen head. The odd bits of supporting framework that hadn't quite been covered by the papier-mâché only added to the alarming effect, giving it a sort of techno-organic air. It also looked suspiciously like it had been constructed from the scrap metal that had mysteriously disappeared from Skyfire's lab, and which he had assumed Hoist had picked up.

Skyfire made a mental note to be more wary of Fireflight's innocent expression from now on.

"It's very convincing," he said. "But if you don't mind me asking, what is it for?"

Air Raid and Skydive looked like they did mind him asking, but Fireflight replied blithely, "We're going to prank Red Alert!"

The vague amusement that had been hovering in Skyfire's processor disappeared.

"Is that a good idea?" he asked carefully.

"Aw, come on," Air Raid said. "You know what he's like! He's way over the top about the security stuff, he'll go nuts if we set this up somewhere he's not expecting. It'll be hilarious!"

Skyfire had to consciously mute his vocaliser to stop his immediate, angry response: that there was nothing 'hilarious' about sending Red Alert into one of his famous meltdowns. Lecturing them wouldn't help - Air Raid and Skydive already had that air of defiance, and Fireflight simply didn't think they were doing anything wrong.

That was the problem, Skyfire guessed, looking at the three of them - they couldn't see that what they were about to do crossed the line from a harmless prank into a genuinely cruel act. Not to mention compromising Ark security. They were too young, too self-centred - too convinced that everyone else was out to get them. Skyfire's brief surge of anger towards them disappeared, leaving only the problem of how to avert yet another trip to Prime's office - and yet another bad day for Silverbolt.

"May I ask you something?"

"Sure!" said Fireflight, at the same time as Skydive said, "Depends what it is."

"How would you feel if someone pushed Silverbolt off a cliff to scare him?"

There was a moment's stunned silence, and then a babble of three voices that amounted to the fact that anyone who messed with Silverbolt like that was screwed in the processor and they, the Aerialbots, would kill them dead. Skyfire waited patiently for the indignation to die down.

"I know Red Alert can seem strange or ridiculous sometimes," he said when he was sure they were listening, "but he dedicates himself completely to protecting the Autobots - you, me, all of us. Did you know that he doesn't ever take leave? And he's always linked into the security grid, even in downtime? The reason he is so highly strung is that he never stops thinking about keeping everybody safe - he puts that above everything else, even his own comfort. And I don't think that taking advantage of that would be very funny."

They stared at him. Skyfire was deeply relieved to note that their expressions were a mixture of shame and surprise – he'd guessed right, there had been no intentional cruelty in their plans. Fireflight, indeed, looked horrified, and Skydive gave the impression that he wished the ground would open up and swallow him – or at least the papier-mâché monster he was still clutching.

"Well what are we supposed to do with this then?" Air Raid demanded resentfully, shaking said monster so that its carapace rattled. "We worked on it for ages."

"It doesn't matter, Air Raid," Skydive murmured. "We'll think of something, let's just go."

Skyfire hesitated, knowing he shouldn't really encourage any sort of prank - but the Aerialbots looked so honestly crestfallen that he was driven to try and make some amends for spoiling their fun. And it wasn't like it would do any harm...

"Why don't you put it in the common room?" he said, and was immediately the focus of three startled gazes.

"Nah, that's never gonna work, it'll be too obvious," Air Raid said. "They'll just laugh."

"How about that little alcove just behind the energon dispensers?" Skyfire had once been surprised by Spike and Carly crouching in said alcove armed with water pistols full of paint; fortunately it hadn't been him they were lying in wait for. "You can't see into it until you're right there."

"And people would be thinking about their energon," Skydive said, picking up on Skyfire's train of thought easily. "They wouldn't see it until they'd poured out a cube..."

"They'll take a sip and totally freak out!" Air Raid finished, delighted. "Oh Primus, that's perfect!"

"Yeah," Fireflight put in, "but there's still people in the common room. How're we going to get it in there without everyone seeing?"

"You're telling me," Skyfire said with a smile, "that you can't figure out a way to distract them?"

"Course we can!" Air Raid grabbed the monstrosity, marched over to Skyfire, and shoved it at him. "Come on, you can carry this thing, you're bigger than us."

"Wait, what?" Skyfire had the sensation of a large pit opening up underneath him. "Oh no, I'm not getting involved in--"

"It was your idea," retorted Air Raid. He was grinning in a way that had Skyfire distinctly worried. "You're not chickening out now!"

"I'm not exactly designed for sneaking around--"

"Didn't you just say something about a distraction?" asked Skydive sweetly.

Faced with three determined expressions (and one googly-eyed one), Skyfire had no choice but to capitulate.

".... and then," Air Raid was saying, vocaliser almost overloading from sheer glee, "Cliffjumper says 'Geez, what's wrong with you?' and turns around and he sees it and yells..."

"I think the phrase Spike would use," Skydive put in, "is 'screamed like a little girl'."

They went off into gales of laughter again, and Silverbolt couldn't help the bemused smile tugging at his mouth. He'd had a bad feeling when he'd taken off with Slingshot, to the point where he'd wondered if he should ask Hot Spot or Skyfire to keep an eye on the rest of his gestalt. He'd half expected to find them in the brig when he got back.

Instead, he'd returned to find the common room buzzing with suppressed amusement as dozens of pairs of optics kept a not-very-stealthy watch on the energon dispenser - and its lurking 'watcher'. His brothers had even tried to catch him and Slingshot out, but it was hard to play a trick like that on someone who was linked into your subconscious and could pick up on the anticipation, so he hadn't more than jumped slightly, and Slingshot's response had just been, "You should've made the eyes glow."

"And Red Alert hasn't said anything?" Silverbolt asked.

"That was the best part!" crowed Fireflight. "He commed Skyfire to find out what we were doing, and when Skyfire told him what it was for, you know what he said?"

"No?"

"He said," Air Raid cut in, grinning like a loon, "he said, 'Make sure you get Sideswipe.' How awesome is that?"

"I can't believe you did it when I wasn't here," Slingshot complained. "Did you get Sideswipe?"

"Oh yes," said Skydive with a grin. "He spilled energon all over Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker was not amused."

"But Sideswipe thought it was such a good prank he went and got his vidcam and set it up to catch everyone else's reactions," Fireflight added. "So you guys can see them later!"

"I can't wait," replied Silverbolt dryly - though, to be honest, it did sound funny. There was just one minor detail he was having trouble with. "Tell me again how you roped Skyfire into this?"

The three who'd stayed on base exchanged a quick, complicated glance that made Silverbolt wonder what it was they weren't telling him. It was hard to get worried, though, when they were all here safe and well, and no-one was calling for them to be put in the brig, and most of the Ark seemed to be as amused by the results as Air Raid was.

"He was just sort of in the right place at the right time," said Skydive. "Or possibly the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Yeah, he was a really good sport about it," Air Raid added. "He's not so bad."

Slingshot snorted derisively, but Silverbolt was too pleased - and exasperated - to care. After all his efforts to get them to accept Skyfire - after Skyfire had proved his willingness to fight beside them - it was just typical that it would be something stupid like this that would start to thaw the ice.

As the other three went back to recounting their triumph - Slingshot demanded to know if they'd got Blades yet - Silverbolt leaned back in his chair and opened a comm line.

There was a pause before Skyfire answered.

:Hello?:

:So should I be worried that you're corrupting my gestalt, or vice versa?:

:Er.: Embarrassment was clear in Skyfire's voice. :I would say that I can explain everything, but I really can't. I'm not even sure how it happened.:

:From the sound of it, Air Raid happened. He does that.:

:Yes, he's certainly got a way of sweeping one along with him.: A pause, and then, with studied off-handedness. :How did it turn out? I had to get back to the lab before anyone came into the common room.:

:I take it you're asking this purely out of scientific curiosity or something?:

:Of course.:

:At last count, they got most of the last shift and some of the next one. They have video footage. I'm sure they'd be only too thrilled to show you.:

Skyfire laughed down the comm line, and Silverbolt realised he was grinning in response.

:I hope they didn't distract you too much from your work,: he went on. :Fireflight didn't pull you out of the lab or anything, did he?:

:No, no, I was taking a break. And as a matter of fact,: there was suppressed excitement in his voice, the kind that made Silverbolt want to see his face and the light he knew would be in his optics, :we've finally done what we've been trying to do for the past month. I'm just writing it up now.:

:That's great!: Silverbolt wasn't entirely clear on what Skyfire had been doing - mostly because it was highly classified - but he'd gathered it had something to do with energy conversion, and ways to maximise it without draining the Earth's resources the way the Decepticons had so often attempted. :We should celebrate! Hot Spot's always offering to pass on that high grade of Groove's, I should take him up on it.:

:I'd like that. In fact, maybe we could--:

All at once, a harsh, prolonged tone cut across his voice - the signal for an incoming priority communication. With a quick apology to Skyfire, Silverbolt switched channels.

:Silverbolt.: It was Optimus Prime himself, deep voice as calm as always, but with a hint of some thrumming emotion below the words that made Silverbolt sit up straight and tense. :I know your team is on downtime, but we have an urgent situation that requires immediate response. Can you be in my office in five breems?:

:Yes, sir.: Silverbolt cast a quick look around the common room; some of the senior officers were already hurrying out. :Should I tell my team to prep for launch?:

:Yes,: replied Optimus, :I think you had better.: There was a pause, and then, to Silverbolt's amazement, an amused note crept into his leader's voice. :And do commend them on their painting skills. Prime out.:

The Autobots, as a rule, reacted rather than acted - something that Skyfire suspected, in his more cynical moments, had contributed to the length of the war.

But when they did act, he was learning, they held nothing back.

:We need cover in the north quadrant,: came Prowl's voice, calm as always.

:On it.:

Skyfire sent a couple of parting shots after Blitzwing, then peeled off in a loop that took him back towards the main engagement. Spread beneath him were most of the Autobot forces - barely a skeleton crew had been left in the Ark - and even his cursory glance was enough to tell him that the Decepticons were fighting a losing battle. The initial force had been caught unaware, pinned neatly between the space bridge and the rocky walls that surmounted it, and when Megatron had arrived leading reinforcements, they had been manoeuvred expertly into a similar trap.

It helped that, although the two triplechangers were making a nuisance of themselves, most of the Seekers were conspicuous by their absence. Skyfire had spotted Dirge - keeping low and using the terrain as camouflage - but the rest of his wing, and the entirety of Starscream's, had failed to put in an appearance. Skyfire had the impression that this was not merely happy coincidence, that Autobot command had counted on it, but he wasn't privy to their counsels. Silverbolt probably knew - but Silverbolt was too busy to answer questions right now.

It wasn't the first time Skyfire had seen Superion in battle, but it was the first since he'd got to know the Aerialbots better. It was strange and rather unsettling to catch glimpses of the massive figure engrossed in its guard detail by the space bridge. Superion wasn't exactly clumsy, but he didn't move with the grace of his component parts. When he spoke, his booming voice was slow and careful, and whatever thoughts occupied his processor, they were glacial compared to the lightning-darts of the young jets who came together to give him form. Skyfire wasn't sure, but he had the impression that both Superion and Defensor were the bearers of much older sparks than those that Vector Sigma had gifted to the gestalt teams themselves. It was as if they had been intended as guardians of their young charges. He noted the idea for later research, and dived down to warn off the pair of Stunticons who had been attempting to cut their way through Prowl's detachment.

A blast cut across so close to Skyfire's nosecone that he jerked up instinctively, losing way and almost sending himself into a spin. The hot wash of ozone across his plating and the thrum of attendant radiation told him all he needed to know about its point of origin, and he flung himself into a sideways slip just in time to dodge a second shot. He'd been on the wrong end of Megatron's fusion cannon once or twice before, and he had no desire to repeat the experience. A quick sensor scan confirmed his suspicions: the Decepticon leader had found himself a vantage point and was deliberately targeting Skyfire. So far he hadn't taken to the air himself - Decepticons might be able to fly in root mode, but they weren't especially manoeuvrable compared to those with aerial alt forms - but Skyfire realised that, as the only Autobot currently in the nearby airspace, he was likely to remain Megatron's target.

He relayed this information to Prowl, searching the ground as he did so for the familiar blue-and-red of Optimus Prime. There was no sign of the Autobot leader.

:Try to keep him engaged,: was the surprising response.

:Are you sure?: Autobot battle policy was generally to leave Megatron to Optimus.

:Yes,: Prowl snapped. :Keep his attention away from the space bridge.:

Another massive blast grazed Skyfire's wing, and he fought the urge to climb for height. He was going to have to attack Megatron directly, he realised - it would be too obvious if he just dodged shots while staying conveniently in range.

Ironically, he'd be happier on the ground - he was one of the few 'bots who had the size and strength to take Megatron on face to face - but there were enough Decepticons in the area to swamp him if he landed. He was pretty sure his guns didn't have the power to do more than superficial damage to Megatron's notoriously tough plating - but then, he supposed if Prowl wanted the Decepticon leader distracted, superficial damage was all that was needed

Steeling himself, Skyfire went into a long dive, firing wildly as if over-confidence or anger had prompted him into such a foolish course of action. He briefly heard Megatron's roar of challenge as he twisted out of the way of another shot, but it was drowned out by the sudden blare of warnings in his audio receptors. Either one of Megatron's fusion blasts had come closer than he'd thought, or he'd been hit by someone else - an energy surge from his shields had rippled through the rest of his system, leaving them at less than half power. Hoping Prowl would hurry up with whatever it was that needed to be done, Skyfire turned grimly into another attack run.

His luck ran out on the fifth pass. Megatron waited just a fraction longer between shots, catching Skyfire square on the undercarriage. Pain lanced deep into his body as the powerful blast tore open plating and shredded circuits in its path. Skyfire pulled up sharply, clawing for height, and the next shot scorched his right wing from tip to leading edge. Only iron self-control kept him from howling out loud.

:Prowl--:

:Just a few more breems!: Prowl's voice was tight. :I'm sending the twins your way. Can you hang on?:

:I'll try.:

The damage wasn't so severe that he couldn't fly, but it hurt, and Skyfire knew he was dripping energon from severed hydraulics. He forced himself to ignore it, coding quickly around his own subroutines to minimise the pain signals, and made one more turn. He could see Sideswipe and Sunstreaker some distance away, but they wouldn't get to him soon enough unless he did something else to distract Megatron. And now Soundwave was scrambling towards his leader, something in the urgency of his movements suggesting that he knew exactly what Skyfire was up to...

One more. Just one more and I can--

Then Megatron wasn't there. For a moment Skyfire thought he was too late - then he caught the tell tale flicker of silver in Soundwave's hands. Skyfire pulled up so hard he almost stalled himself, but Soundwave followed the movement as though he'd seen it coming, and even from this distance Skyfire thought he could hear the whine of Megatron's alt-form - even more powerful than his fusion cannon - reaching critical charge...

An enormous hand swiped out of nowhere and grabbed Soundwave bodily, sweeping him off the top of the outcropping and then letting go so that he was flung helplessly into space. Skyfire managed to level out, and found himself almost nosecone-to-optic with the looming form of Superion.

:You are hurt.:

Superion sounded nothing like any of the Aerialbots - his deep voice was slow and stern, with a low rumble of anger under the words that startled Skyfire.

:Not so badly,: he replied, banking gently to avoid the giant 'bot, and wincing in pain despite his words. A quick glance downwards showed Soundwave struggling upright, and a battered Megatron returning to root mode. :Thank you.:

Superion rumbled wordlessly, his optics focused on the Decepticons arrayed below them. For a moment Skyfire caught a faint susurrus on the edge of hearing, as if he were picking up distant comm transmissions.

Then, all at once, Superion transformed - although it was more as though he simply fractured, limbs detaching and great optics going dim as the Aerialbots flew apart from each other. Seconds later, the five jets were airborne, falling into easy formation as they shot towards the Decepticon forces.

:Silverbolt!: came Prowl's furious voice. :Your orders were to guard the space bridge--:

:You wanted Megatron distracted, didn't you?: Silverbolt replied crisply. :If we drive them back on this side, we'll break their formation.:

:My projections do not indicate that--:

:You're not seeing what I'm seeing up here,: Silverbolt interrupted. Skyfire was amazed by how confident he sounded; there was nothing defiant in his voice, and nothing uncertain. :I know the plan, but we can end this if we strike now.:

The Aerialbots were already engaging; Skyfire saw Soundwave dive for cover, while Megatron snarled invective at the sky and tried in vain to target Skydive and Air Raid, who were taking it in turns to harry him with obvious glee. Higher up, lightning crackled over Silverbolt's wings and struck several times in quick succession among the Decepticons on the ground. Skyfire thought he heard a whoop of delight from the Autobots engaging them.

:Very well,: said Prowl at last. :If there's any chance of Decepticons breaking through to the space bridge, your first priority is to return to defence. Understood?:

:Understood.: Silverbolt swept around for another run. He was keeping high, Skyfire saw, while the other four dived in and out, somehow never in the way of Silverbolt's lightning strikes. :Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, can you give us backup?:

:Frag yeah!: Sideswipe had reached the crag; he transformed and began to bound down the other side. Sunstreaker was bare seconds behind. :Just point us at the fun!:

:Come around from the south and cut Breakdown and Drag Strip off from the other Stunticons. I don't want them combining. Skyfire--: Silverbolt hesitated for the first time. :How badly are you hurt?:

:Not too badly,: Skyfire replied, not quite truthfully. :Where do you want me?:

:Go high and head off anyone who makes for the space bridge.:

:Got it.:

Even as he opened throttle and headed skywards, Skyfire could see the Decepticons wavering. The Aerialbots didn't give them even a second to regroup; somehow the four of them were everywhere, darting to and fro like swallows on a summer evening, but shooting with deadly accuracy. Then the twins crashed in, right on cue, a pair of berserkers if there ever were, and in the midst of it all Silverbolt struck again and again, his lightning finding its mark more often than not, and shattering the Decepticons' confidence with every crash and glare.

Skyfire levelled off and started sweeping the terrain with broad scans, circling above the battle and keeping his sensors strained for any sign of Decepticons approaching the captured space bridge. He was in pain, but from here he could see Silverbolt's wings catching the sunlight, flashing silver and gold; could watch that beautiful, slender form dive and swoop without a shadow of the fear he fought so hard to overcome. It made Skyfire's spark pulse faster, and made his discomfort easier to bear as he set himself to hold out until the end of the battle.

The party had been going on for almost three hours, and didn't show any sign of winding down in the near future. The fact that most of the Autobots were utterly exhausted - Air Raid heard someone saying that Prowl hadn't recharged for three days straight and he was still up there debriefing the officers - only seemed to make them more determined to keep going until they fell over.

Well, Air Raid wasn't going to be outdone on that front, even if his right arm was twinging a bit under the new plating Ratchet had welded on. He wasn't exactly clear on what the objective of today's attack had been - most of it was top secret - but apparently they'd achieved it and then some. They'd even managed to hold onto the space bridge, with the result that the high-grade fuelling the party was Shockwave's finest, and better than anything Air Raid had ever tasted.

And every so often, someone would come up to the Aerialbots, clap one of them on the shoulder, and compliment their shooting, or their flying, or (in Sideswipe's case) their 'fine Decepticon-fragging technique'.

Air Raid was loving every second of it.

"Still no sign of Silverbolt," Skydive said, leaning over to speak into Air Raid's audio receptor. "Do you think he's in trouble?"

"He better not be." Air Raid took another swig of high grade. "We kicked aft out there. Everyone says so."

"Isn't it nice to be appreciated?" Skydive's tone was trying for sardonic, but it didn't quite get there. Air Raid could hear the same pride in it - tinged with amazement - that was thrumming through the link between them. "All the same, you know Prowl hates people going against orders..."

"None of the other officers are here yet either."

"Hmm." Skydive toyed with his own high grade. His attention focused on something over Air Raid's shoulder. "There's Skyfire. Did you see him when we landed? His wing looked awful."

Air Raid turned; sure enough, Skyfire was at the edge of the crowd, looking this way and that. The signs of repaired injuries were obvious on his side, chest and wing - he'd probably only just got out of the repair bay. His optics met Air Raid's, and he made as though to come towards them - then paused. Air Raid saw his optics travel over Skydive, Slingshot, and Fireflight, obviously realising that Silverbolt wasn't there, and just as obviously unsure of a welcome in his absence.

Air Raid only hesitated for a second. Then he shifted his drink over to his left hand and raised his non-sore arm to wave. Skyfire took the cue, making his way through the crowd until he reached the chairs the Aerialbots had commandeered.

"I see you're enjoying the spoils of victory."

"Oh, no, the energon's perfectly good," Air Raid said cheerfully.

Skyfire stared blankly at him, then burst out laughing, although Air Raid wasn't sure what was funny. Skydive seemed to be in on the joke, though he was trying to look like he wasn't smirking behind his hand.

"Hi Skyfire!" Fireflight jumped out of his chair. "Are you okay? You were leaking an awful lot."

"I'm fine." Skyfire looked around, then reached over and picked up one of the cubes of high-grade piled on a nearby table. "Well, mostly fine. Is Silverbolt still debriefing?"

"Guess so."

Air Raid watched as Fireflight herded Skyfire over to his own chair and made the larger 'bot sit down. Slingshot broke from whatever it was he and Sideswipe were working on in the corner long enough to scowl at Skyfire and shoot a glare at Air Raid and Skydive. Air Raid stared him down; after a moment, he turned his back pointedly.

"But where are you going to sit?" Skyfire was asking.

Fireflight looked thoughtful. Then a mischievous grin appeared on his faceplates, and a split second later, he was sprawled comfortably in Skyfire's lap.

Skyfire, for his part, looked so utterly taken aback that it was Air Raid's turn to break down in gales of laughter.

"You don't mind, do you?" Fireflight asked innocently.

"Er..."

"Just push him off," Silverbolt said from behind Air Raid. Air Raid twisted around in time to see amusement warring with exasperation on his brother's face. "He makes a nice clunk when he hits the ground, and it's the only way to get through to him."

"Hey!"

"I don't mind," said Skyfire, though he still looked rather surprised. "But watch out for the welding."

Fireflight obediently shifted away from the new plating, but otherwise showed no signs of abandoning his perch. Skyfire had made a serious mistake there, Air Raid thought, snickering to himself; if you let Fireflight think he could get away with attaching himself to you, he tended to do so at every opportunity. They all liked field contact - with each other, with the handful of people outside their gestalt that they trusted - but Fireflight always seemed happiest when he could snuggle up to another warm body. Air Raid wondered if Skyfire realised he had just let himself in for chair duty for the foreseeable future.

Silverbolt was leaning on the back of Air Raid's chair, close enough that Air Raid could feel the churn of emotions skittering through his field - elation, weariness, pride, and a bright, sharp spike of joy that kept playing over the others.

"How was it?"

"Good." Silverbolt rested a hand absently on Air Raid's helm, smiling down at him so brightly that Air Raid almost laughed aloud. "We did well. You did well. All of you."

"Did Prowl give you a hard time?" Skydive asked, but Silverbolt was shaking his head even before he'd finished the question.

"He, uh." Silverbolt's optics strayed momentarily to Slingshot. "He commended me, actually. To Prime. For making the right call."

There was a split second's silence; then they were all talking - shouting - at once, cheering Silverbolt and each other, riding high on amazed pride. Sideswipe even grabbed a cube and offered a toast Air Raid couldn't make out, but that Slingshot and Fireflight took up with tumultuous approval. Even Skydive was grinning - not smirking or trying to pretend he was too cool to laugh like he usually did, just grinning like a loon.

In the middle of it all, Air Raid caught sight of Skyfire looking from one of them to another, his gaze lingering most often on Silverbolt, a half-smile on his face. Even with Fireflight practically bouncing up and down in his lap, he seemed not quite to be a part of things. Air Raid opened his mouth, meaning to say something - he didn't know what - but Silverbolt was quicker off the mark. Crossing the space between the chairs with three easy steps, he slung himself against the arm of Skyfire's chair and smiled down at him. Air Raid didn't hear what he said, but it made Skyfire laugh - and whatever thoughts had been holding him back from them seemed to vanish.

"Right!" Sideswipe yelled over the din. "It's time to get down to some serious drinking!"

He and Slingshot manoeuvred the table they'd been crouched over into view, revealing dozens of small cubes of energon.

"Ultra high grade," Sunstreaker put in, seeming disinclined to move from his sprawled position on a nearby couch, but watching the proceedings intently. "Kinda not quite allowed on base. One shot for every Decepticon that ran like a turbofox today. Last one standing gets to keep anything left over."

"Hang on a second--" began Silverbolt, but Air Raid joined his brothers in shouting over the protest.

"Just this once!"

"We've totally earned it!"

"Jazz and Ironhide are over there getting smashed on that stuff Ratchet makes in the chem lab!"

"It's okay, Silverbolt--" that was Slingshot, in the tone of voice Air Raid associated with some sort of very stupid dare that he was bound to end up taking, "-- we're not expecting you to have any. We all know what you're like with high grade."

Air Raid knew that Silverbolt never fell for that sort of thing. He was completely above rising to Slingshot's teasing. Besides, it wasn't like he couldn't hold his energon - he'd just never drunk enough high-grade for them to have any idea what he was like over-energised. There was no way he'd take Slingshot up on it.

Silverbolt straightened up, glaring at Slingshot, reached out, grabbed one of the energon cubes, and downed it in one quick swallow.

Air Raid thought maybe his jaw bolts had come unhinged. The look on Slingshot's face was priceless.

Silverbolt slammed the cube down, not even having the decency to cough. Even Sideswipe looked impressed.

"I can outlast you," he said, quite calmly.

Slingshot stared at him for a few seconds more, then threw his head back and laughed.

"Bring it on," he said, and reached for the next cube.

"I can walk," Silverbolt protested, though he wasn't entirely sure it was true.

"Let's not put that to the test," replied Skyfire. He was carrying Silverbolt easily, though Silverbolt seemed to remember that he'd had his share of the high grade. "I'm amazed you're still capable of coherent speech, frankly."

Silverbolt murmured one more token protest before he let his head rest back on Skyfire's shoulder and shut off his optics, which seemed to have become difficult to keep properly calibrated. Much the same way his stabilisers were no longer correctly distinguishing up from down. He didn't think he'd ever been as overcharged as this, and he wasn't sure he liked the sensation, but he was fuzzily certain that it had been worth it.

He tried to explain that to Skyfire.

"You may not think so tomorrow morning," was Skyfire's amused comment. "The twins have turned distillery into a lethal art. Just because you didn't end up on the floor with Slingshot..."

"Wait, Slingshot..." Silverbolt made a half-hearted attempt to get his feet on the ground, but the ground was somehow not exactly where he'd expected it to be. "I should get Slingshot back to our quarters, I should..."

"Stop wriggling, I'm going to drop you if you're not careful." Despite the warning, Skyfire's arms were still reassuringly secure around him. "Your brothers will look after him."

"They were writing on him," Silverbolt protested. "With that neon paint that takes forever to get off."

"Such is the fate of those foolish enough to drink ultra high grade until they pass out in the rec room," Skyfire said solemnly. "But Skydive and Fireflight are sober - relatively sober - and they promised faithfully to drag him back as soon as Air Raid and Sunstreaker were finished."

"Oh. Good." Silverbolt leaned his head back and idly watched the ceiling lights go by. "... so if I'd offlined before Slingshot, you'd have just left me there to take my chances with graffiti, would you?"

"Well, no," Skyfire admitted. "But fortunately you saved me the effort of rescuing you by managing to stay conscious."

He stopped walking. Silverbolt lifted his head to look up questioningly. Skyfire's optics were a subtly different shade of blue from the other Autobots', which Silverbolt had noticed before but never really thought about. Right now they were warm and bright, with none of the distance that sometimes crept into his expression.

"Silverbolt? Are you going to open the door for us?"

"Huh? Oh."

Why, yes, here they were standing in front of the Aerialbots' quarters. Silverbolt reached for the door panel, missed, and almost tipped himself out of Skyfire's grasp.

"Oh Silverbolt." Skyfire was laughing at him again, but it was a gentle, affectionate sound without a trace of mockery. "You're really not used to this, are you?"

Silverbolt steadied himself by grabbing onto Skyfire's shoulder. His fingers automatically found chinks in the armour to slide into and give him a better grip, and he felt Skyfire twitch slightly, startled. His gyros seemed to have destabilised again, and the walls were spinning gently around him.

"I, um, don't think I..."

One of Skyfire's hands came up to rest securely against his back, dispelling Silverbolt's momentary fear that he was going to topple over backwards. Skyfire had such wonderful hands, Silverbolt thought distractedly - so large but so deft, so careful with everything they touched. He liked watching them while Skyfire worked. He liked feeling them on his plating even more. Not that there had been many opportunities for that before tonight. He wondered if he should get overcharged more often.

"Can you open it?" he said, and managed to get the entry code out of his vocaliser without stumbling too badly over the digits.

The Aerialbots' quarters were quiet and dark, and Silverbolt was rather relieved when Skyfire didn't attempt to turn on the lights. He hadn't realised that the corridor lighting had been bothering his optics until they came into the dark. Maybe he had them tuned too high? He tried scaling down the sensitivity, but then he couldn't see anything at all, and no matter how he tried, he couldn't seem to adjust the settings with any sort of precision. He gave up and cycled them back to their original level, and found that while he'd been preoccupied, Skyfire had walked over to the first of the inner doors and keyed it open.

"No, it's not that one--"

"I'd just figured that out," replied Skyfire. "Now I know where the rest of that scrap metal went. Is this Fireflight's?"

"Him and Air Raid. Skydive and Slingshot have the one over there--" Silverbolt attempted to point, almost smacked Skyfire in the faceplates, and subsided sheepishly. "--er, and mine's in the middle. I'm really sorry about this," he added, pricked by the vague awareness that he was not at all on his best form.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're by far the most eloquent and well-behaved case of overcharge I've ever come across."

Skyfire's field lapped reassurance against Silverbolt's, and he realised he could feel a difference: Skyfire was more open than he was most of the time, his field warm and relaxed and mingling more freely with Silverbolt's. Silverbolt amended his previous thought: maybe he should get Skyfire overcharged more often. He let his head rest briefly on Skyfire's shoulder, and then it seemed natural to shift so that his forehead was pressed lightly against Skyfire's neck, tucked against the larger mech with the easy familiarity he shared with his gestalt-mates.

"You only have the three rooms between you?" Skyfire was asking as he opened Silverbolt's door and keyed the lights on low.

"It's all the space there is," Silverbolt murmured. He was suddenly, devastatingly tired; recharge was an irresistible prospect. "Still better than Hot Spot's - at least the ceilings are high. The Protectobots all ended up right back near the engine room. It's really cramped there."

"We might be able to fix that soon," Skyfire said. "I'm going to put you down now. Ready?"

Silverbolt wasn't - he thought he'd rather Skyfire just held onto him forever, actually - but he was more preoccupied with what Skyfire had just said. Even as he manoeuvred his way without much grace onto his berth, his processor was trying to follow that thread to its origin.

"What do you mean?"

"Can't tell you just yet." Skyfire sat on the edge of the berth with a sigh of relief, and Silverbolt suddenly remembered his injuries. "It's secret. But it's not going to be for much--"

"Did I hurt you?" Silverbolt interrupted, focused on the new thought. He leaned forward, reaching out to touch the new plating. "You shouldn't have been carrying me, you're barely repaired..."

"It's fine, Silverbolt. I'm just tired. You didn't hurt me."

"Are you sure?" He ran clumsy fingers over Skyfire's fuselage, but there was no tell-tale energon leakage to imply he'd damaged the rivets and sealant Ratchet had used to patch him up. "Megatron was really going for you - I thought he'd downed you with that last one..."

"My shields are stronger than most. I was glad to see you, though." Skyfire's hand came to rest on Silverbolt's, gently pulling his fingers away from ticklish plating. "You were amazing out there, you know that?"

"We were?"

"You were."

Oh, look, Silverbolt had just been thinking about Skyfire's hands and now here they were in his. Skyfire made no attempt to draw away as Silverbolt turned one palm-up and ran his thumb over the sensor nodes where it joined the wrist. The touch did something to Skyfire's field, made little arcs of echoed sensation dart through it, and Silverbolt liked the way they cascaded on into his, and liked the way Skyfire curled his fingers gently around Silverbolt's as if he didn't want to risk Silverbolt pulling away.

"You were," Skyfire said again, and this time, Silverbolt realised, the you was meant just for him. "Anyone can see why Optimus gave you command."

Silverbolt looked up and met his optics, feeling all at once like he was poised on the brink of something - not a precipice, because there was no fear, only exhilaration. It was more like the moment before you turned and saw someone you had been waiting for a long time. He twined his fingers with Skyfire's and said, "Thank you."

"For what?" Skyfire sounded genuinely startled, and even with his processor running at half speed, Silverbolt felt a twinge of sadness about that.

"Always saying the right thing," he said. "Being out there with us. Carrying me back here. Helping my brothers play stupid tricks on the other Autobots. Catching me. Everything."

His systems, coming rapidly down from the energon high, were begging for shutdown. Silverbolt could already feel the beginning of a processor-ache that was going to make the next morning a deeply unpleasant experience. He tried to hide it, but their fields were mingled enough that Skyfire felt him wince.

"Here." Skyfire disengaged one hand, pulled something out of subspace and held it up for Silverbolt to see. "Ratchet was handing these out earlier."

It took him a minute to register the details: the red stamp and the letters that indicated a medical datachip, loaded with a self-executing program that would lock out low-level pain signals. They were good for one dose only, to prevent misuse, but Skyfire was holding two.

"Use one now so you're not kept awake," Skyfire said. "The other one is for tomorrow, when you will, I promise, really need it."

"Thank you," Silverbolt said again, this time with such fervent gratitude that Skyfire laughed as he put the two chips onto the shelf by the berth.

"I'll leave you to recharge."

He hesitated for several seconds, seemingly as reluctant to let go of Silverbolt's hand as Silverbolt was for him to leave. Then, with a smile, he brought Silverbolt's hand to his lips and gently kissed the backs of his fingers. He got to his feet and turned to leave.

"I'll see you next shift," Skyfire said, pausing in the process of keying open the door. "Or the one after."

"It's not going to be that bad," Silverbolt mumbled, finally letting himself flop backwards onto the berth. The impact jarred his head unpleasantly and he fumbled for the datachips on the shelf. "... is it?"

"Maybe not, but you deserve the rest," Skyfire replied. "Recharge well."

The door swished closed. Silverbolt found the datachips, but paused to listen to Skyfire walk across the small outer room and then out into the corridor.

His processor was beginning to ache in earnest. Silverbolt fingered one of the chips, and thought about Slingshot, with his smaller frame and less efficient energon processors. If his hangover was going to be bad, Slingshot's was going to be worse.

He left the chips where they were and reached up to turn out the light.

Chapter Text

The Autobots' luck held - or the Decepticons' was exceptionally poor. Though Megatron made an attempt to retake the space bridge, Optimus Prime had seen it coming; Red Alert's defences and Prowl's deployment of troops held their own.

For the first time since their awakening on Earth, the Autobots had easy, stable access to Cybertron. Rumour was rife with speculation on what that might mean. There was talk of returning to Iacon, but Skyfire doubted anyone really believed that was likely. Cybertron was as drained of energy as it had been when they'd set out millions of years before, and besides, they couldn't leave Earth in the hands of the Decepticons.

The space bridge was, at the moment, their most precious commodity, and it had to be guarded at all costs. Constant patrol shifts and the tension of waiting for the inevitable Decepticon counter-attack began to take their toll - tempers were short and many of the Autobots were itching for a fight. No-one seemed to know exactly where the Decepticon Seekers were, which meant everyone was expecting them to show up at any given moment. It made for jumpy patrols - especially since, to keep the space bridge covered at all times, the Autobot flyers were stretched even thinner than usual.

Skyfire took his turn without complaint - he even volunteered for extra shifts, since he could stay in the air longer than most of the others - but after a week of it he caught himself wishing the Decepticons would just take the space bridge back and be done with it.

"Now, now, I'm shocked by your lack of proper Autobot fervour," said Perceptor mock-primly when Skyfire mentioned this. He held the disapproving look for barely a handful of seconds before breaking into a rueful smile. "And I agree completely. I'm not cut out for this sort of thing any more than you are."

"It's a pity we can't move the wretched thing closer to the Ark."

"The thought had occurred, but I don't believe we would be able to successfully recalibrate the vectors without—"

"I know, I know."

Skyfire sighed, leaning back in his chair and taking another sip of energon. The common room was crowded. He usually avoided it when it was this busy, but at the moment he had no choice but to refuel whenever he had the chance. At least he and Perceptor had managed to find a corner to themselves.

"I gather Silverbolt is working with Prowl on the defence patrols," said Perceptor after a moment.

"Yes... it makes sense, the ground forces have to fit in around what we can cover from the air." Skyfire didn't add that the responsibility was weighing heavily on his friend, or that on the brief occasions he'd managed to speak to Silverbolt, his optics had been pale with weariness. "I've hardly seen him all week, he really needs to—“

He was interrupted by a crash, a babble of raised voices, and someone - he thought it was Cliffjumper - cursing roundly. Skyfire and Perceptor both looked around in surprise, to see that the attention of the rest of the room was focused on a pair of struggling mechs - and Skyfire realised belatedly that he'd been hearing the sounds of an argument for several minutes, but that it hadn't really registered. Then he got a good look at the two mechs in question, and had to stifle a groan.

Slingshot and Blades. Skyfire hadn't even noticed the Aerialbot come in, and obviously no-one else had been paying attention to the impending disaster of having the two of them in the same space without any of their teammates present. It wasn't entirely clear what had originally sparked off their shared animosity - the best Skyfire had been able to come up with was that they were too similar, both too proud to back down from a challenge, both unable to resist getting in a jab at a perceived rival. Silverbolt had confessed that he and Hot Spot went to a good deal of trouble to keep the two apart on a daily basis; no amount of intervention seemed likely to reduce their mutual loathing, and letting them 'get it out of their system' only resulted in excessive collateral damage.

And with that thought, Skyfire was abruptly, startlingly angry. He had a good deal of sympathy for the Aerialbots as a whole, and had never taken Slingshot's obnoxious attitude to heart, but Primus, didn't the little idiot realise that this sort of thing just made Silverbolt's life even more difficult? Skyfire was sure he did care, underneath the attitude, for his wingmate's wellbeing - Slingshot got into enough fights defending Silverbolt, though Skyfire wasn't sure Silverbolt knew about that - so why couldn't he keep himself under control for five minutes together?

Skyfire wouldn't normally interfere. It wasn't his call, and he held brawling in great distaste. But at the memory of the last time he'd seen Silverbolt - had it really been two days ago? - distracted and exhausted - Skyfire unfolded himself from his chair and strode past the onlookers. He passed Sunstreaker, who was shouting "Bend his rotors!" with a fervour unbecoming of an Autobot, and stopped Hound, who was just about to wade in, with a hand on one shoulder.

Pausing to assess the struggle, Skyfire chose his moment, stepped forward, and managed to grabbed the two combatants by the backs of their necks, hauling them off the ground and away from each other.

Neither of them took very well to this, Slingshot wriggling like a rattlesnake and Blades trying to claw at Skyfire's hand, spitting out a stream of curses, but Skyfire just held them up higher, keeping them at arm's length so they couldn't kick him, and waited a few minutes. The rest of the room had gone silent.

"Are you going to come to your senses any time soon?" he asked, tone as mild as he could make it. "Or am I going to have to bang you together until you stop moving?"

That earned him scattered laughter from the spectators, and Blades finally seemed to realise the ridiculousness of his position. He went limp, scowling through his humiliation. Slingshot, snarling, twisted in Skyfire's grip and fired his thrusters. Various nearby Autobots leapt back from the fiery outpouring with shouts of alarm.

"Stop that!" snapped Skyfire, giving Slingshot a good shake without even thinking about it. "Do you want to get yourself in the brig again?"

Slingshot cut his jets with a look of pure loathing for Skyfire, who glared right back, patience close to breaking point. He transferred his gaze to Blades, who seemed more perturbed by it than Slingshot.

"I'm going to put you down," Skyfire said. "I suggest you find your gestalt and stay out of trouble for the rest of your downtime."

"Okay." Blades attempted nonchalance, a tricky feat when dangling in mid-air. "Sure. I'll do that."

Skyfire resisted the urge to just drop the helicopter, instead setting him down and watching pointedly as he beat a hasty retreat. Only then did he lower Slingshot back to ground level. The small jet twisted out of his grip immediately, bristling with fury.

"You've got no right--"

"Shut up," Skyfire snapped back, winning startled silence from Slingshot, and a soft whistle from Sideswipe. "The only reason I'm not dragging you off to Prowl is that I don't want to cause Silverbolt any more trouble."

That hit home unexpectedly - just for a second the furious arrogance cracked, and Skyfire saw a rare flash of guilt on Slingshot's face. It was gone almost too quickly to be sure.

"He started it!"

"I don't care who started it." The anger was already leaving him, and Skyfire was uncomfortably aware that he was the centre of attention of a room full of fascinated Autobots. Primus, he wasn't cut out for this. He had no idea what to say to Slingshot, and no authority to punish him. "Just... go away. Go and find something to do that isn't going to end with you in the brig, or worse."

Slingshot seemed on the point of arguing, but instead cast a disgusted glare at the spectators, a last withering look at Skyfire, and then stalked out of the rec room.

"Nice," said Sideswipe, grinning at Skyfire.

"You shouldn't encourage them," Skyfire replied testily, then added, to the room at large, "And one of you could have stopped it before it got that far!"

Sideswipe gaped at him, and in the silence that followed, as Skyfire moved back to rejoin Perceptor, he almost regretted it. He liked Sideswipe, most of the time, and it wasn't his responsibility to go around herding young idiots any more than it was Skyfire's. All the same, Skyfire couldn't shake the irritation: sometimes it seemed to him that no-one around him was willing to take responsibility for the inexperienced mechs they had created and dragged into this Primus-forsaken war.

"Sorry," he murmured to Perceptor as he sat down.

"Good for you," was Perceptor's unexpected, quiet response.

Silverbolt was so relieved to get into Skyfire's lab - where it was quiet, and comforting, and entirely lacking in brothers who seemed determined to drive him completely mad - that he was tempted just to sit down where he was as soon as the door slid shut behind him. If Skyfire had been there, he might have done it for the sake of hearing Skyfire laugh - but the lab was empty, so Silverbolt dragged himself over to one of the stools and flopped forward over the bench with a long sigh.

Even then he couldn't relax. His processor was busy running through a checklist: Air Raid is safely occupied on the firing range, Slingshot is out on patrol, Fireflight has security duty with Red Alert and he likes that so he'll be fine, Skydive is probably not sulking too much and I'm pretty sure he still has a big stack of those history of flight textbooks...

After a moment's consideration, he added: ... Blades is with Hot Spot, the Twins are both on duty on the perimeter (well away from the firing range), and neither Wheeljack nor Perceptor has been working with anything explosive lately.

So if he was lucky, Silverbolt thought, he might be able to enjoy a few hours of precious downtime uninterrupted.

He resisted the urge to wander around the lab - Skyfire got jumpy about people touching his experiments when he wasn't there to keep tabs on them - and rested his head on his arm, lost in his own thoughts until he heard the door open.

"Oh dear." Skyfire sounded like he'd stopped just inside the lab. "That bad?"

"If it's not one of them it's another," Silverbolt replied without lifting his head. "Skydive and Air Raid got into some stupid fight about manoeuvre technique, and just as I'd got them off each other, Slingshot comes in looking like murder and starts the whole thing up again by siding with Air Raid. Not to mention that Fireflight's even more scatterbrained than usual - he's gone off the patrol route three times in the last two days."

"Everyone's on edge," Skyfire reminded him, coming over to put a hand on Silverbolt's shoulder. Silverbolt sighed, his tightly-wound spark loosening at the familiar contact. "Are you off-duty now?"

"Yes. I ought to recharge, but I just can't shut down. I know you're on shift until midnight, but I thought maybe I could keep you company, if you don't mind..."

"Actually I'm not." Skyfire was running his thumb absently along the leading edge of Silverbolt's wing; Silverbolt wasn't sure he knew he was doing it, but hoped he wouldn't stop. "On duty, I mean. Prowl's just reworked the schedules again. I'm probably on downtime at least as long as you are. Would you like to go for a flight or something?"

"Really?" Silverbolt sat up, suddenly feeling better than he had done in days. "Primus, I'd give a lot to get out of here, but I don't dare leave the base... even if I'm not on shift, I ought to be handy in case..."

He left the rest of it unsaid, not even sure himself whether he meant in case of Decepticon attack or in case my gestalt gets into trouble again, but Skyfire didn't seem to need further elaboration.

"I'd suggest we find ourselves a cube or two of high grade..." he began, a teasing note creeping into his voice.

"... but then I'd have to kill you," Silverbolt finished for him, caught between wincing and laughing. "Can we just go somewhere and, I don't know... talk, or just... read or something? Hot Spot keeps giving me human books on datapad and I never seem to have time to look at them..."

"Hmm, actually..." Skyfire finally took his hand away from Silverbolt's wing, but only to catch hold of his elbow and gently tug him off the stool. "There's something I've been meaning to show you for a while, and if we've got a few hours..."

"This isn't going to be like when Fireflight has 'something to show me' and the next thing I know we've crashed in some unlikely part of the world, is it?"

"I promise," laughed Skyfire, pausing to switch off a couple of terminals and check all his experiments were idle. "No crashing involved. Just a cube of energon and a vidscreen."

Intrigued, Silverbolt followed him out of the lab.

Silverbolt knew vaguely where Skyfire's quarters were, but he'd never been inside. They usually seemed to end up talking in the lab, or going outside to fly or sit under the stars, and Silverbolt certainly wouldn't have considered inviting Skyfire back to the Aerialbots' rooms - they were too cramped, too disorganised, and definitely too full of inquisitive brothers.

Skyfire's room was bigger than most - it had to be, Silverbolt supposed - but like so much of the accommodation on the Ark, it had been reclaimed from unused storage space and fitted out with whatever supplies Hoist and Grapple had been able to get hold of on Earth. The ship had never been meant to hold so many as it currently did, even before the crash had wrecked most of the crew quarters.

The fact that Skyfire's quarters weren't crammed with personal possessions helped make them seem bigger - in fact, the place looked like he seldom used it for more than recharging. Most of what was important to him was in his lab, including the gadgets and programs he worked on in his spare time - all that was visible in the way of recreation were a stack of datapads on the desk. Skyfire didn't even have much furniture apart from his berth and a desk that Silverbolt suspected never got used.

"There isn't really anywhere to sit," Skyfire was saying as he keyed open the door. "Grapple keeps promising me a chair, but he's got so much else to do, I haven't pushed for it. I usually just sit on the berth."

"That's okay with me." Silverbolt wandered across the room, carrying both their energon cubes, while Skyfire busied himself with the vidscreen hooked into the wall. "It's nice not to feel like I'm going to collide with the furniture every time I turn around."

"Tell me about it."

"What's this?" Silverbolt went on, pausing by an object that reminded him of a gyroscope - a number of rings and discs that interlocked in three planes. "It looks a bit like one of your solar generators."

Skyfire didn't look up from the console; apparently Silverbolt's comment was enough to convey what he was looking at, not that there were many other possibilities.

"It's an orrery - very old-fashioned, I know, but I've always liked them."

"Does it work?"

"Give me a moment, I'll show you."

The orrery was sitting on a small cabinet next to the berth, so Silverbolt put the energon cubes down beside it and took a seat. The berth was the one thing in the room that looked like it had come from Cybertron. Silverbolt's had been built into his quarters as a kind of alcove, and though Hoist had done his best, it always felt slightly claustrophobic, and didn't quite fit his wings. Skyfire had one of the high-spec adjustable models, presumably because it was the only thing that would fit him; it would probably accommodate Silverbolt's entire gestalt without too much squashing. Silverbolt took a moment to feel appropriately jealous.

"There."

Skyfire finished programming the console - the screen flickered to life, but he hit pause immediately - and came over to stand by the berth. He fished a long, slender metal key out of subspace and inserted it into a slot at the base of the orrery. After a few deft turns, he left it in place and gently pressed down a small lever with one finger.

Immediately, the orrery began to move smoothly, the rings rotating and twisting around each other as the polished metal spheres traced complex paths in the air. Silverbolt watched in fascination as the smaller globes seemed to dart in and out of the larger ones, which spun with stately dignity like birds of prey ignoring the flight of sparrows. Most of them were on a broadly similar plane, but there were two that swooped up and down at almost right angles to the rest of the display. As the orrery picked up speed, the cluster of spheres at the centre of it all - which Silverbolt had thought were just inert crystals - began to glow in colours from blue to orange to brilliant white.

"This isn't Earth's solar system, is it?"

"No - the Sol system is much simpler. This is Medusa Gyr - it's out in the Epicor sector, beyond Sigma 957. The system comprises six stars, seven planets, and two debris belts. No life - the planets aren't exactly hospitable even for Cybertronians. It was one of the first assignments I ever took, and I've never forgotten it."

"Wait, you built this?"

"Yes - but a long time ago, on Cybertron." Skyfire paused, moved to sit next to Silverbolt on the berth, and when he spoke again, there was a soft note in his voice. "It's pure mathematics in motion. I've always thought it astounding that something so incredibly complex can be described in vectors and magnitudes. It took me vorns to find the key to it, to understand how the system functioned. I was afraid that when I cracked it, it wouldn't be beautiful any more - but now when I look at it, it's like watching my calculations come to life. It's probably the only thing I own that I couldn't bear to lose."

Silverbolt tore his optics away from the orrery to look at Skyfire.

"This is from before? How did you get it back?"

"By the lucky chance of bringing it with me in the first place. I'd taken it apart and packed it into subspace before I left Cybertron that last time. We were going to be gone so long - almost a vorn for the round trip - that I decided it was worth the risk of damage. Everything was so chaotic then... I had no idea what things would be like when I got back." Skyfire paused, and laughed with only a trace of sadness. "Of course, I never thought it would be ten million years. Everything else that was mine is long since lost or destroyed."

One of the larger rings was slowly tilting, lifting its planet out of the plane in a wobble that even Silverbolt could see would take thousands of years in real time. The miniature suns in the centre were spinning around each other in circuits that made him dizzy. Each planet had been carefully moulded with rough topological details, and the rings were engraved with delicate scales to indicate rotation and speed.

"It's beautiful," murmured Silverbolt, though he was thinking more of the model than the astronomical phenomenon it represented. He had seen Skyfire work on dozens of intricate projects, but they were all purely functional and had nothing of this exquisite craft. "I'm so glad you didn't lose it."

They watched the orrery spin through millennia with smooth precision. Skyfire pointed out an upcoming solar conjunction, and Silverbolt wondered what it would be like to stand on the surface of one of those planets and see the suns aligned like a spear in the sky.

"Could we go there, some day?" he asked.

"I-- yes, I don't see why not." Skyfire scooted himself backwards on the berth so that he could put his back against the wall. He stretched out one arm for his energon, bumping Silverbolt's. "It's a long trip, though - too far for a casual jaunt. We'd need a lot of fuel."

"Maybe if we can hold onto the space bridge, we'll be able to stockpile some." Silverbolt picked up his own energon cube and moved to sit against the wall with Skyfire. "I hope Slingshot's alright on his own, I didn't like sending him off but we've got to spread ourselves out as much as possible..."

"You're supposed to be relaxing, remember?" Skyfire flicked the edge of one of Silverbolt's wings with a mock frown. "No worrying about the others. They'll be fine for a few hours without you."

As Silverbolt took a sip of his energon, Skyfire activated the vid console remotely. The screen immediately lit up with a sweeping shot of an alien landscape. Silverbolt had seen enough Earth movies to be sure that it wasn't a set - which meant it couldn't possibly be from Earth. He sat up straighter in surprise.

"This is Cybertronian?"

"Oh yes. One of the classics, from long before I was even sparked. I wondered if you'd seen any."

"I didn't think we had anything from Cybertron!" The establishing shot had given way to a city that touched the clouds. "Everyone seems to watch Earth movies all the time, I thought..."

Skyfire laughed. "I should think they've seen all of these many times by now. Teletraan-1 only has a couple of hundred in the databanks, and they're all old - the entertainment industry was one of the casualties of the later vorns of the war, or so I understand. But I thought... well, I thought you and your brothers might like to watch some."

"They'd love it," Silverbolt agreed absently, listening with delight to dialogue in his own language - the script flowed differently from anything he'd heard in English, and even though he was used to the American movies his brothers liked, this appealed to his spark in a way he couldn't put words around. "We'll show them some other time."

He couldn't see Skyfire's smile, but he could feel it in the way his field had gone warm and bright. Silverbolt settled back against the wall - and then, because there didn't seem any reason not to, settled in closer to Skyfire so that their shoulders brushed and their fields could interwine at the edges. Skyfire's hand found its way absently back to the leading edge of Silverbolt's wing, working at the tension there with thumb and forefinger, and Silverbolt found it was much easier than he'd anticipated to temporarily put his anxieties out of his mind.

If he was really lucky, he thought, he might even get to see the whole movie before the next crisis landed on his head.

Skyfire wasn't entirely surprised when he realised that Silverbolt had drifted into recharge against his shoulder. He contemplated switching off the vid, but it was one he liked and wouldn't mind watching again later, so he just let it play and adjusted his position so that Silverbolt could lean more comfortably against him.

It felt good to have him close like this, their fields lightly intermingled and Silverbolt's warm plating under his arm. Skyfire had never been someone who especially craved physical contact - or even close company - until he'd met Starscream. Starscream had coupled a jet's need for wingmates with his own compulsion to claim and possess, with the result that Skyfire had become accustomed to field contact and casual touches even before they'd been lovers. He'd thought it was just a facet of their relationship, but he'd found after his awakening on Earth that he missed that closeness fiercely.

Maybe that was partly why he was drawn to the Aerialbots. They were so automatically tactile that time spent in their company was unusual if it didn't involve field contact of some sort.

Skyfire's comms pinged; he noticed with some trepidation that the caller was using an official channel rather than a personal one.

:Yes, Jazz?:

:Hey, Skyfire, sorry t' bust in on your downtime - is Silverbolt with you?:

:He's in recharge. Is it urgent?:

:Nah, don't wake him - just let him know when he comes out of it that Prime wants to see him at 0800. Nothin' major, just a couple o' reports he wants to go over. I dropped him a memo but I thought you two might be out somewhere an' I didn't want him to miss it.:

:I'll tell him. You ought to get some rest yourself, haven't you been on shift for the last two days?:

Jazz laughed over the comms. :Yeah, yeah, don't remind me. When this is over I'm gonna hit shuffle on my whole music collection and I ain't comin' out until it stops playin'.:

:How many tracks do you have, Jazz?:

:Oh, 'proximately seven million. See ya later!:

The movie was winding down. Skyfire half-watched it, thinking about Jazz's music collection - legendary by all accounts; 'approximately seven million' might not actually be an exaggeration - and wondering if it contained any of the artists he remembered. There was music in Teletraan-1, but like the vid library, it was limited. It hadn't mattered to Skyfire until now. In the years since he'd been pulled from the ice, he'd seemed somehow always busy, even when he wasn't - he'd spent all his time in his lab and hadn't even noticed the absence of things he'd once taken for granted.

Silverbolt stirred in recharge, shifting restlessly. Skyfire wondered when he'd last checked his defrag logs. Tired as he was, he ought to be completely in stasis. Skyfire ran a hand soothingly down the plane of one wing, and Silverbolt seemed to relax again. Would it be possible to lay him down on the berth without waking him? Skyfire could do with some recharge himself, but he would gladly give up his berth for a while if it meant Silverbolt got a chance to properly rest--

Silverbolt twitched suddenly, one arm coming up as if to grasp at something. Skyfire rubbed his wing again, hoping he'd settle back into recharge, but then all at once Silverbolt was awake - not just awake, but scrambling upright in a panic. The shockwave that went through his field bled into Skyfire's, jangling bright tones where there had been soft edges of relaxation.

"What--"

"Slingshot," Silverbolt gasped, almost falling off the berth in his haste. "Something's wrong. Where's-- there's no alarm. Why is there no alarm?"

Skyfire scrambled after him and was just in time to grab his arm and steady him as he lost his balance, his systems still in the process of booting up. "Calm down. What about the others?"

"Going crazy over the comms. There's no alarm..."

Silverbolt's processor clearly wasn't fully online yet, but Skyfire grasped the significance of what he was trying to say. Spark cold with dread, he half-dragged Silverbolt across the room and hit the priority comm channel on the unit. A moment later he was looking into Jazz's surprised face.

"Skyfire? Silverbolt? Weren't you just--"

"The space bridge is under attack," Skyfire said. "Right now."

Jazz's jaw dropped. "What? But the perimeter's fine, Red's cameras are comin' up clear and we ain't heard nothin' from the guard squad--"

"They're being jammed," Silverbolt cut in, optics brighter now, and the panic forced down deep somewhere where Skyfire could barely sense it. "Or they've been disabled. Slingshot's down, I-- I don't think he's dead, but--"

Jazz swore violently in Cybertronian, reaching for console controls that Skyfire couldn't see on camera. A second later, alarms were blaring throughout the Ark - the signal for Code Red, Full Scale Decepticon Attack. Jazz glanced up at what was probably another comm screen and nodded once before looking back at Skyfire and Silverbolt.

"Get in the sky, Silverbolt" he said grimly. "Get there as fast as you can. You too, Skyfire. Prime's orders - get there fast, get them out."

:Still nothing?:

:Not a blip. I can't even get a fix on the space bridge.: Skyfire was as calm as ever. Silverbolt clung to the sound of his voice like a lifeline. :It's definitely some sort of jamming, but it's nothing I've seen before.:

:Primus, how did they get the drop on us?: demanded Hot Spot. Silverbolt hadn't wanted to wait for anyone, but Hot Spot's team had been right by the Ark entrance when the alarms sounded, and Skyfire had stayed behind to take the non-flyers in his cargo hold. He was more than fast enough to catch up with the others afterwards. :Red Alert's got the whole place wired up like a Christmas tree, we've had patrols going 24/7...:

:Obviously they thought of something we didn't.: Silverbolt checked his fuel levels - thank Primus he'd refueled with Skyfire - and accelerated. The others obligingly sped up to match him. He was aware that Blades, particularly, was pushing himself to the extreme limits of his top speed, but he couldn't bring himself to slow down. :ETA five minutes. Get ready, we don't know what we'll... find...:

Halfway through the sentence, he was aware that something was off. His words seemed to drop into space; the background hum and whisper of the comms had cut out.

:Hot Spot?:

No reply.

:Skyfire? Air Raid?:

Nothing, even though they were right there. After a few seconds - during which Silverbolt supposed the others were trying their own comms and getting nothing - Skydive sideslipped in so he was flying almost wingtip to wingtip with Silverbolt.

"Jamming field?"

"Must be," Silverbolt shouted back. "But I thought they only extended a few hundred metres above ground!"

Skyfire had come lower, his shadow falling over Silverbolt's wings.

"This is something different," he called out. "It's not a standard jamming signal - it can't be, not if it's hitting us out this far. Groove says it's not registering on any of his scans, so it's not an interference pattern."

"Great." Air Raid had edged in close as well, as had Fireflight; the four of them were flying as close as a flock of birds, with Skyfire above and Blades trailing some way behind. "How do we find the garrison if we can't get them on the comms?"

"More to the point, if we can't communicate, we can't work together," Skydive said. "And we can't come up with a strategy in advance without knowing what the situation is..."

"Hot Spot says," Skyfire put in, "that he's going to have the Protectobots combine into Defensor - at least that way they'll be in communication."

"That's not a bad idea." Silverbolt strained his sensors to try and get an idea of what was going on down in the canyon that sheltered the space bridge. "We'd better stay airborne though... okay, guys, listen up, can you all hear me?"

The other three piped up in the affirmative, while Skyfire dropped back, presumably to let Blades know what Hot Spot intended.

"We're going to combine into Superion on our way down. It'll be harder without Slingshot, but we'll be able to fly - and more importantly, talk to each other. As soon as we've got an idea of the situation, we'll split off, but if I give the signal, we recombine so we can reassess. Got that?"

"What signal?" asked Air Raid.

"I'll use my lightning."

"Won't you need that to fight?"

"No, I can't just strike out without knowing who's on the ground and where. I'll just bleed off enough for a quick flash - you should hear it easily enough."

Skyfire caught them up again, Blades close in his wake.

"I'm going down now," he said. "Hot Spot's team are going to jump out just above ground so I don't have to land. Listen, Silverbolt, I've been thinking about the jamming - they can't be doing it remotely. I've got an idea of what they might have done, but it means there's got to be a device down there, and it should be pretty obvious."

"Can you track it down?"

"I'll do my best."

"Okay, stay high and keep scanning. Our first priority is locating the other Autobots and--"

"Silverbolt! Incoming!" shouted Fireflight.

"Looks like Starscream finally showed up," Skydive observed.

Air Raid made a noise that was halfway between a snort and a snarl. "And he's brought aaaaall his friends."

"Get going," Silverbolt told Skyfire, who was already losing altitude. "Here we go, Aerialbots - first thing we do is keep Skyfire covered while he offloads Hot Spot and the others. Then we combine. Got it?"

"Got it!" Air Raid opened his throttles, shooting ahead towards the six Seekers rising from ground-level. "Let's do this."

Chapter Text

It was obvious from the start that it was an unequal battle. It didn't take Skyfire long to realise what Starscream had done: come through the space bridge from the other side, bursting out with his full air force from the one direction the Autobots didn't have covered. And that bulky device in the centre of the space bridge's encircling walls must be what was jamming the Autobots - but not the Decepticons, from the looks of things - disabling all the careful traps and cameras that Red Alert had set up, allowing Megatron to lead all three of his combiners down on the garrison, who couldn't even call for help.

How and why Starscream had been on Cybertron with the Seekers in the first place was a question that would have to be answered later. All that mattered now was getting the trapped Autobots out.

Skyfire found them under siege in a tight canyon that the Seekers couldn't get into. Unfortunately, neither could he, but he managed a close enough fly-past to let them know he was there. It looked like Trailbreaker had his forcefield up, which was protecting them from the three massive combiners but preventing any return of fire. Of Slingshot there was no sign.

Even that quick reconnaissance brought Skyfire under fierce attack. Menasor grabbed for him with improbable speed for such a large mech, and his claws scored Skyfire's undercarriage painfully before he could pull up. Bruticus followed his course with laser blasts that would have peeled half Skyfire's paint from his frame if they'd connected, but Skyfire knew a trick or two and managed to escape out of range.

As he gained height, he caught a brief glimpse of Superion - missing an arm, thanks to Slingshot's absence - hovering above the battle-field. Then the combiner split into his component parts, the Aerialbots racing to head off the Seekers. Below, Defensor crested the ridge with a roar of challenge that Menasor turned towards, obviously spoiling for a fight on his own scale. Skyfire hoped Hot Spot - or Defensor himself - had the sense not to plunge down into close combat with three other combiners without backup, but he didn't have time to think about it further. Despite Silverbolt's best efforts, there were Seekers on his tail - Skywarp and Thundercracker, by the looks of it - and he was going to have to figure out what to do about the jamming field while dodging their combined fire.

The device in the space bridge was the key, that was obvious, but it was too well-protected for Skyfire simply to target it from the air. Not to mention that if it was what he thought it was, shooting at it was not only futile but dangerous for all in the area; the only way to get the sort of power it would need would be to hook it up to the space bridge's trans-warp generator directly. Which meant that the space bridge was probably open just a fraction, almost undetectably, and any sort of explosion under those circumstances... well, Skyfire could only hope that Starscream had put failsafes in place for once in his existence.

The glimmer of an idea occurred to him, even as he threw himself into a triple roll to avoid a nasty double-helix pattern of fire from the two Seekers tagging him. He quickly reviewed his glimpse of the trapped Autobots and his recollection of the shift schedule; had Mirage been down there? If so, Skyfire needed to get a message to him somehow...

A sudden crack split the air. Thundercracker and Skywarp both dodged and rolled, to Skyfire's brief amusement, even though a quick glance told him that Silverbolt was well below them. It seemed the Seekers had grown wary of unexpected lightning strikes. Seconds after the thunderclap, the other three Aerialbots were racing back to their leader.

Skyfire saw his chance. Taking advantage of his pursuers' distraction, he pulled a hard turn and roll that ended with him coming back in the other direction, bearing down on the two Seekers with all guns firing. Thundercracker went into a sharp dive to get away, while Skywarp vanished and reappeared going the wrong way and upside-down, to his own obvious surprise. He disappeared again, and this time Skyfire didn't see where he emerged; he was too busy making the most of the clear sky between his current position and where Superion had just come together for a second time.

He probably had only a few minutes; in this sort of battle the Aerialbots were far more vulnerable as Superion than they were separated, and Silverbolt knew it. They wouldn't stay combined longer than absolutely necessary, and Skyfire needed to get in close enough to speak without being overheard.

In fact, he was going to have to take a quite literal leap of faith.

Skyfire judged it carefully - made sure Superion could see his approach - and then transformed mid-flight. He wasn't built for it: he could control his descent with his rockets, he could even fly in root-mode if he had to, but he couldn't hover effortlessly the way the Decepticons could. Coming in like this, if Superion didn't realise what he was doing and catch him, he'd end up making a rather ungainly landing on the ground, which could be fatal if the Seekers got to him before he could get back in the air...

Superion's single hand shot out and scooped him out of the air. Skyfire felt the familiar brush of Fireflight's field, questioning and agitated below Superion's more encompassing and calmer energy, as the combiner brought Skyfire up near his helm. Skyfire steadied himself with a hand on Superion's shoulder - he was too big to be held comfortably even such a massive hand - and felt again the disconnect of wondering if he was speaking to Superion or Silverbolt.

"I've found the garrison and the jamming device," he said without preamble. "It's going to take sabotage to disable, though. Someone needs to get word to Mirage, if he's there, or Bumblebee if he isn't. I can't get near where they are."

Superion turned his great head to look where Skyfire indicated. There were now only two of the Decepticon combiners laying siege to the canyon: Defensor had managed to lure Menasor away and the two were engaged in a spectacular brawl. Defensor, thankfully, seemed to be winning.

"Difficult," Superion rumbled. "We will need Defensor's help."

"I can try to get his attention..."

"No." Superion looked directly at Skyfire, and Skyfire felt the definite touch of Silverbolt's field then - knew in advance how hard the next part was for him. "You have to distract the Seekers. All of them. Keep them away for long enough to get the message through."

Even as he spoke, several of the Seekers were arrowing in on Superion's position; laser fire glanced past the combiner's helm.

There was barely time for Skyfire to explain what needed to be done - let alone reassure Silverbolt that it was a risk he was willing to take. All he could do was wrap his hand tightly around one of Superion's antennae and open up his field for a fleeting instant, letting Silverbolt in as far as he could. He felt a sharp rush of emotion from his friend that made him wish fiercely for comm contact for just a few seconds, but there wasn't even time to say 'good luck' aloud; Skyfire fired his jets and shot up above Superion's head, transforming in the midst of his wildly erratic flight, while Superion spun away and opened up his afterburners as he roared to Defensor's side.

So, how to distract six Seekers and assorted Triplechangers without committing suicide... Skyfire corrected his flight and bore down on the approaching jets, targeting ailerons and wingtips. If he got lucky, he might disable one of them, and it would at least get their attention. They're not all going to come after me just because I'm shooting at them, not when they know the Aerialbots are about.

Indeed, although two of his targets were returning fire, the third had already broken off in pursuit of Superion. Skyfire rolled awkwardly and managed to direct a few shots right up Ramjet's afterburners. Ramjet howled and obligingly pulled an about-turn, but it was a temporary fix at best. He needed a way to get them focused on one part of the battlefield...

Inspiration struck - coupled with a hollow awareness that the 'without committing suicide' part of the equation might be even less feasible than he'd suspected. But there was no time to dwell on it. Turning his sensors to the skies around him, Skyfire began to scan for Starscream.

* * *

The plan was simple and direct: Defensor would activate his forcefield, charge past Bruticus and Devastator, and deposit First Aid with the besieged garrison. Hot Spot was pretty sure Defensor's shields would hold that long, though it would leave him drained afterwards - and it meant that both combiners would be missing an arm. Still, there seemed no other way to get through without putting the garrison in danger, and sending in First Aid had the added advantage that the Decepticons might assume they simply wanted to get medical treatment to the injured, rather than guessing at the message he would carry.

There wasn't much to be said after they'd agreed what to do; Defensor activated his shield and charged, while Superion kept Menasor busy.

Silverbolt, tuned into Superion's more sophisticated sensors, caught a shriek of outrage from the other side of the space bridge. One glance showed him the source: Skyfire had homed in on Starscream and seemed to be doing his best to hammer the Air Commander into the ground with laser fire. Every other flyer on the field promptly turned and headed for their leader - not, Silverbolt guessed, out of any surpassing loyalty, but because Starscream was probably burning out their comms with his demands for protection. His spark ached with a combination of admiration for Skyfire's quick thinking, and fear for his safety. In a couple of minutes he was going to have every Decepticon jet in the battle trying to shoot him down - exactly what Silverbolt had told him to do, and exactly the thing most likely to get him killed.

Silverbolt felt the fleeting wash of comfort from his brothers - it's okay, he'll be fine // look at him go, did you see that turn? // you couldn't do anything else - and, to his surprise, a single, warm pulse of assurance from Superion himself. The big mech was not exactly a part of them and not exactly separate either; the feeling when the five of them were combined was as if some old, strong presence put its hand out to steady them, though he seldom spoke to them directly.

Then Menasor got a hand free and smacked Superion across the faceplate, and Silverbolt let himself let go of self as the us/him that was Superion roared in fury and set to work trying to force the Decepticon into his component parts.

The next minutes were a blur of physical struggle and the sounds of battle ahead and all around. Then Superion managed to get in one hit too many for Menasor's battered superstructure. With assorted curses and howls of pain, the Stunticons broke apart and fled.

Except Motormaster, who launched himself at Superion's nearest leg and began pounding shot after shot into whatever systems he could reach.

Get him off get him off get him off! shrieked Air Raid, his panic and pain threatening to pull apart their own gestalt bond.

Superion launched himself into the air, dragging the Stunticon leader with him, but Motormaster hung on like grim death. Silverbolt didn't dare give the order to disengage - that would leave Air Raid in Motormaster's clutches, and Motormaster was too big and strong a 'con for any of them to take on hand-to-hand. Their advantage was in the air. Superion clawed for height, trying to shake off his unwanted passenger.

From below, a hand swept up and plucked Motormaster off like a gnat, tossing him as hard and far as possible across the battlefield. Superion spun to see Defensor, now also down a limb and looking rather battered, but otherwise whole.

"He got through," Defensor rumbled. "Now what?"

Silverbolt drew back into himself, feeling his brothers slip away as Superion fell into his component parts. Air Raid almost crashed before he managed to get himself transformed; Silverbolt didn't like the look of the smoke coming from his systems.

"We keep fighting until they take out the jamming device," Silverbolt said, loud enough for all of them to hear. "As soon as we're back in comm contact, we co-ordinate with the garrison and hold our ground until the rest of the Autobots get here--"

"Skyfire's in trouble!" Fireflight shouted urgently.

"Then come on!"

Silverbolt took off across the skies faster than he'd known he could fly, his brothers hot on his tail. Skyfire was under fire from all sides: he was still dodging and twisting grimly, but there were scorch marks on his plating and too many targets for him to do more than try and keep them at bay. He seemed to have brought Starscream down - either that or the Air Commander had fled - but the other flyers were now determined to take him out once and for all.

The Aerialbots were still too far away to do anything when Silverbolt saw Skywarp flash into existence in Skyfire's blind spot. Skyfire dropped several metres to avoid a charge from Thrust - right into Skywarp's sights.

Look out, look out! Silverbolt thought frantically - trying for just a second's more speed...

Suddenly there was a burst of fire from the ground below the aerial battle. A volley of laser shots hit Skywarp's undercarriage with pinpoint accuracy, taking out his stabilising systems. The Seeker shrieked and teleported away, but it didn't save him - when he reappeared, it was only to spiral down into a nosedive that ended with an impressive crash against the canyon wall. Skyfire looped around and shot upwards, taking the chance to get above his attackers.

Thundercracker immediately broke off his pursuit of Skyfire and dove towards the source of the shots, followed by Blitzwing. Silverbolt caught a familiar glimpse of white, red and orange, and this time he knew he screamed "Look out!" aloud, for all the good it would do.

Slingshot rolled sideways - he looked like he'd been flat on the ground in the first place - but Thundercracker's vengeful barrage caught him right across the back, throwing up so much dust that Silverbolt couldn't see how badly he'd been hit.

He heard Air Raid shout something and start to dive. With a great effort, Silverbolt caught him up.

"No! Get over there and help Skyfire drive them off!"

"But Slingshot--"

"I'll look after Slingshot! Get the Seekers away from here!"

For a moment he thought Air Raid wouldn't obey him - come on Air Raid, come on, this is when it matters - but then he barrel-rolled away, roaring towards Skyfire and the other Decepticons with a howl of fury. Skydive and Fireflight shot after him, as Silverbolt swung to get Blitzwing in his sights and opened fire.

The Triplechanger yawed aside, but Thundercracker wasn't even paying attention to Silverbolt, coming around for another pass at Slingshot, just visible now in the settling dust cloud. Silverbolt knew he wasn't going to be able to keep them both occupied, not when Slingshot was out in the open like that. He was an easy kill.

Silverbolt didn't stop to think about how high he was or how fast he would come down. He went into a nosedive and transformed just before he would have crashed. The impact almost shattered his knee joints and a dozen alarms began shrieking in his processor, but he managed to throw himself forward to cover Slingshot with his own body just as Thundercracker opened up with another volley of laser fire. Silverbolt was thrown forward, but he caught himself on his hands and bore the pain with a clenched jaw for seconds that seemed like years.

Then Thundercracker was past. Silverbolt drew himself up into a crouch, shuddering at the damage to his back and wings, but his first concern was for Slingshot.

He'd obviously been in a bad way even before Thundercracker's attack. He must have crashed badly, and one of his wings was so crumpled it made Silverbolt feel ill to look at it. There was way too much energon on the ground to be healthy and his visor was cracked on one side. It was a testament to his aim that he'd managed to hit Skywarp despite it. He didn't respond when Silverbolt spoke his name.

Blitzwing and Thundercracker had coordinated and were coming in to catch them in a classic crossfire. Silverbolt pulled his gun from subspace with one hand and cradled Slingshot against him with the other arm. He was going to have to time this right...

There - Thundercracker was a touch wary and Blitzwing too eager - they weren't quite coming in simultaneously. Silverbolt aimed and pulled the trigger, smiling grimly when the first pulse of electricity arced through the air and struck Blitzwing, crackling over plating and spiking into circuits. He swung around to do the same for Thundercracker. He wasn't quite in time to stop the blue Seeker beginning his attack - a few more laser shots stung Silverbolt's shoulders - but the firing broke off abruptly as Silverbolt managed to get a couple of solid hits on his enemy's undercarriage. Thundercracker swore loudly enough that Silverbolt heard him even without comms, and twisted awkwardly out of range. He seemed to hesitate a moment, then took off in the direction of Skywarp's crash, engines booming loud enough that it shook Silverbolt right down to his circuits.

Blitzwing was still circling, but there was enough of a pause that Silverbolt could look further afield. Skyfire was still in the air, thank Primus, and his brothers were darting around the larger flyer, harrying the remaining Decepticons for all they were worth.

He bent to examine Slingshot, trying to quell the panic that rose in his spark as he catalogued more and more injuries. Silverbolt could at least feel him now, a dim tugging at the gestalt bond, but for the first time since they'd been sparked, he had no idea if his brother would pull through. Ratchet had drilled them in basic first aid, but it was so hard to know where to start... there was energon everywhere and Silverbolt was afraid to touch the scorched edges of the holes in Slingshot's plating for fear of hurting him.

Blitzwing made as if to come down for another attack. Silverbolt fired wildly in his general direction; he was too far away to hit, but the storm of electrical energy seemed to make the Decepticon think twice. Turning back to Slingshot, Silverbolt began to work on the worst of the injuries to his body; he had some sealant in his subspace and if he could at least stop the energon leak...

"Sil... verbolt?"

Slingshot's visor flickered weakly and he turned his head against Silverbolt's chest with a grimace of pain.

"It's okay, I've got you." Silverbolt risked putting his gun down for long enough to squeeze Slingshot's hand. "You're a mess. Can you tell me what your diagnostics are showing?"

"... think they're offline," Slingshot mumbled. He didn't even squeeze back. "Should go... get out of here, it's... trap..."

"I know. We'll be okay. Just stay with me."

"Frag's sake..." Slingshot managed weakly, "leave me and--"

Silverbolt snatched his gun and fired a few more warning shots at Blitzwing, who had been sidling in for another attempt. Then he lowered his head to speak directly into Slingshot's audio receptor, keeping his optics sharp to the sky for any further attacks.

"Don't even suggest that. I will never leave you behind."

Slingshot gave a huff that might have been an attempt at laughter. He seemed to be trying to speak again, but then--

-- with an almighty roar and clap of thunder, the space bridge activated. Silverbolt looked up in time to see the brilliant light of the teleportation matrix snap into existence; he caught the briefest glimpse of the device that Skyfire had identified as the jammer, before it fell into the portal, twisting in on itself and vanishing.

There was as static-filled cry of pain that echoed oddly inside and outside his processor, cut off when the space bridge snapped closed again. But Silverbolt hardly paid it any attention, because all at once he was bombarded on all sides by open comms - his brothers, Hot Spot's team, the garrison, the main Autobot force - everyone trying to get through to each other all at once.

:Clear the airwaves.: Optimus Prime cut through the cacophony and left silence in his wake. :Ironhide, do you copy?:

:Loud an' clear, Optimus.: Ironhide sounded grim, but there was no panic in his voice. :We've got a lotta wounded down here. First Aid's done what he can, but Hound and Beachcomber need to get back to base ASAP.:

:So does Slingshot,: Silverbolt put in. :He's in a really bad way - First Aid, is there any way you can--:

:How bad?: Fireflight broke in on their private frequency, panicky. :He's gonna be okay, right? Right Silverbolt?:

:Slingshot? Can you hear us, buddy?: Air Raid didn't sound much better. :Silverbolt, is he--:

:I need you guys to keep quiet for a minute! And somebody get Blitzwing off me, he's like a fragging vulture...:

Skydive immediately peeled off from the battle with the Seekers and made an unerring line towards Silverbolt and Slingshot. Blitzwing aborted another attack run and climbed for height, giving Silverbolt some breathing space.

:Our ETA is twenty minutes,: Prowl was saying. :Silverbolt, Hot Spot, we need you to get the garrison out of that canyon so they can retreat. Skyfire, you're to take the worst wounded straight back to the Ark.:

:Understood.: Skyfire's voice was pale with pain, but he didn't hesitate. :I'll pick Slingshot up now. I'll need a few minutes' clear air to get at the garrison.:

:We can do better than that,: Hot Spot said, sounding almost cheerful. :What do you think, Ironhide? Ready to break out of that rabbit hole?:

:You're on, kid. We can take Devastator if you can handle Bruticus. And if someone can keep those damn Seekers off our backs...:

:Already on it,: Silverbolt replied, relaying the plan to the rest of his team.

A roar of jets made him jump, but it was only Skyfire coming in for a landing that was almost a crash. His white plating was streaked with black and scored deep in a dozen places, and as soon as he rolled to a stop, energon began to pool on the ground beneath his undercarriage. Even the way the door to his cargo area opened seemed forced and painful.

"Get him into the straps on the starboard bulkhead," Skyfire was saying. "They should save him from getting tossed around on the way back. First Aid's coming aboard with the others, so he'll be in good hands."

Silverbolt swung Slingshot into his arms with some difficulty, and staggered the short distance to Skyfire's open hatch. He was terribly aware of how exposed the shuttle was on the ground. Skydive had been forced to peel off to help Air Raid and Fireflight, and there were still too many Decepticons in the air above them.

"You don't look so good yourself," Silverbolt said as he settled Slingshot into a corner and quickly worked to strap him in place. "Is there anything I can--"

"No time. Don't worry, carrying the wounded has the advantage that I'll be back with Ratchet before the rest of you."

His voice was light and joking, but Silverbolt, surrounded by his field, could feel just how much pain he was in, just how much a second landing and more passengers were going to take out of him. Silverbolt pulled the last strap tight around Slingshot's battered body and hesitated for a split second, wanting more than anything to stay here with both of them.

"I'll look after him," Skyfire said, either reading his field or simply knowing him too well.

"Look after yourself, too," Silverbolt replied.

:Silverbolt,: Air Raid broke in, :incoming!:

Silverbolt threw himself out of the hatch, even as Skyfire's engines roared to life. Silverbolt transformed so fast he thought he might have pulled a servo loose, and shot into the air just ahead of Skyfire.

:Go!: he snapped, and forced himself to concentrate on the Seekers right ahead of him, rather than watching that battered white form dodge and duck through the heart of the battle.

* * *

"Hey."

Hot Spot had appeared out of the chaos that was the med bay without Silverbolt even noticing. He leaned against the wall by Slingshot's berth and put out a hand to squeeze Silverbolt's shoulder, careful of his damaged back and wings. Silverbolt tried to muster a smile, but it was all he could do to lift his head. He didn't think he'd ever been so tired, and the racket of mechs getting worked on or patching themselves was making his processor ache.

"Hey yourself," he replied. "Are your lot okay?"

"Yeah, Blades took a few hits after we split, and 'Aid's got a bad dent where Devastator kicked him, but he's too busy working on everyone else to fix it up. Speaking of, has anyone looked at your wings?"

"Ratchet had a quick look, but it's mostly surface damage so he said to do what I could and he'd get to me later."

Hot Spot shook his head. "As if you could reach your own wings! Have you got a medkit there? Good, hold still. Wait--" Hot Spot pulled out a datachip from the kit, checked the label, then tossed it to Silverbolt. "Take that first, it'll help with the pain."

Silverbolt obediently flipped open his wrist port and plugged in the chip. He should have done it as soon as he'd sat down, but even that small effort had felt like too much on top of everything else. He sighed as the throbbing ebbed from his wings, and Hot Spot began to work on putting temporary patches over the damaged plating.

"How is he?" Hot Spot asked after a moment.

"Ratchet says he'll make it," Silverbolt replied quietly, optics going back to Slingshot's unnaturally still face. "He's in deep stasis. One of those shots almost got his spark chamber. He's lucky..."

He stopped and muted his vocaliser, concentrating on the threads of discomfort that leaked through the painkiller as a way of anchoring himself. Hot Spot pressed one hand against an undamaged area of wing, and Silverbolt felt the warm brush of his friend's field, concerned and supportive.

"What about the others? I saw Air Raid over there, what did he do to his nose cone?"

"Divebombed Dirge, as far as I can tell. Apparently Ramjet spent the rest of the battle swearing at him for stealing his trademark. The other two are getting patched up as well. They fought really hard."

"You all did. We all did."

"It wasn't enough."

The space bridge was back in the hands of the Decepticons. As soon as the garrison had cleared the area, Optimus Prime had ordered the retreat. The Aerialbots had been the last back to base, just as they were the first out. No-one could say they hadn't done their part.

It hadn't been enough.

Hot Spot sighed. "Yeah, I know." Then, a moment later, "Hey, I know what'll make you feel better. Look left."

Silverbolt did, to see Skyfire picking his way through the crowded room towards them. Hot Spot was half-right: Silverbolt's spark surged gladly at the sight of him, but it was matched by an equally strong rush of worry and guilt. Skyfire looked as battered in root form as he had during the battle, and Silverbolt was painfully aware that he seemed to take more damage every time he flew with the Aerialbots.

But Skyfire's optics brightened when they met Silverbolt's, and he increased his speed to reach the relatively clear space around Slingshot's berth.

"Are you okay?" were the first words out of his vocaliser. "I've seen the others, but I couldn't find you. And Slingshot..."

"Slingshot's gonna be fine," said Hot Spot firmly. "You want me to grab you something to sit on, Skyfire? You don't look so hot yourself."

"No, it's okay, I'll just..." Skyfire knelt, rather awkwardly, so that he was on about the same level as Silverbolt. "Slingshot's going to be fine?"

"So Ratchet says," Silverbolt confirmed. He reached out automatically, and Skyfire took his hands without breaking optic contact. "He... feels so faint, though..."

"Ratchet knows what he's talking about," Skyfire reassured him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

His field against Silverbolt's was so concerned and caring that Silverbolt suddenly found himself unable to speak, because the answer, he realised, was No, no I'm not okay. But he couldn't say it - he couldn't get the smallest sound out of his vocaliser.

Skyfire's hands tightened on his, and Hot Spot put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and he realised that he didn't need to.

"I'm gonna go check on my brothers," Hot Spot said after a moment. "I'll tell yours where you are."

"Thanks," Silverbolt managed to whisper.

After he'd gone, Skyfire tugged on Silverbolt's hands, a question in his optics, and Silverbolt found himself moving almost without thinking about it, shifting forward as Skyfire moved in closer and wrapped both arms around him. Only the awareness of Skyfire's injuries kept Silverbolt from clinging on as tightly as he wanted to; he contented himself with slinging his arms around behind Skyfire's neck and burying his face in his friend's shoulder. Skyfire shifted carefully so that he wasn't putting any pressure on Silverbolt's hurt wings, drawing him in close and moving one hand to gently cradle the back of Silverbolt's helm.

"Are you okay?" Silverbolt whispered. "I thought we weren't going to reach you in time..."

He broke off, realising all over again that they hadn't reached him in time, that if it hadn't been for Slingshot...

Arms tightened around him and Skyfire ducked his head to speak quietly into Silverbolt's audio receptor.

"You had to make a command decision," he murmured. "Don't ever think I would hold that against you."

His fingers were moving absently in small circles against the back of Silverbolt's neck. Silverbolt drew in air through his intakes and found that the taut, nervous energy that had gripped his spark since they'd left the Ark was finally starting to leak away. With it went some of the tension in his body, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of Skyfire just yet, and Skyfire seemed in no hurry either. His hands were steady and sure on Silverbolt's plating and the way their fields lapped together, intertwining almost as tightly as they were holding each other, made Silverbolt feel safe and secure, and breathless and uncertain all at once.

He found himself stroking lightly down Skyfire's back, wanting to give back the same sort of comfort he was receiving. Skyfire gave a little sigh and Silverbolt felt the reaction ripple through his field. He thought he could probably just go right into recharge like this, never mind the noise and confusion around them. Had it really been only a few hours since he'd been dozing on Skyfire's shoulder? But he had to keep awake for long enough to give his report to Optimus Prime - and check on the rest of his brothers - and maybe, if he was suitably humble, Ratchet might let him stay by Slingshot's side...

At least one item on the list seemed keen to check itself off. Silverbolt heard Air Raid and Fireflight approaching even through the soothing hum of Skyfire's systems against his audio processor. Reluctantly, he lifted his head, and Skyfire drew back enough to catch his optic and smile. Silverbolt found to his surprise that he could return it, just a little.

Then his brothers descended on them: Fireflight immediately flung himself into Silverbolt's arms for reassurance, while Air Raid was complaining loudly (and proudly) about his bent nose cone; Skydive slipped quietly in at the side, optics on Slingshot until Silverbolt reassured him. And in the midst of it all, Skyfire reached for the medkit Hot Spot had left behind, moved around behind Silverbolt, and began to work on his wings.

* * *

Skyfire wanted nothing more than to recharge in his own quarters, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Silverbolt's side until Ratchet had found time to check his wings. After that they'd all been thrown out of the medbay, and then Silverbolt had to report to Optimus. He hadn't exactly asked Skyfire to stay with his brothers, but Skyfire had found himself tagging along with them back to their cramped quarters, listening to Air Raid's unusually subdued banter and Fireflight's halfhearted chatter. Skydive had been silent since he'd reached Slingshot's side, and the most obviously reluctant to leave him, but Skyfire didn't know quite what to say to him. He was harder to read than the other two.

The communal area was small by any standards, hardly big enough to hold five jets, let alone a mech of Skyfire's size, but the Aerialbots had made the most of the space by the simple expedient of removing most of the furniture. There was one big couch, obviously well used, and a number of big, steel mesh cushions that looked to Skyfire indecently comfortable right then. He hesitated in the doorway, but Fireflight grabbed his hand proprietorially and dragged him over to the couch.

"We can't go to sleep until Silverbolt's back," he explained. "You're going to wait with us, right?"

Which was how Skyfire found himself with Fireflight in his lap, and Skydive and Air Raid squashed in on either side of him on the overburdened couch. It was strange - though not unpleasant - to be so thoroughly surrounded by their energy fields. He could feel the easy familiarity with which they lapped into each other, and was startled by how readily they reached out to him, including him in their silent reassurance.

Despite Fireflight's assertion, both he and Air Raid fell into recharge after barely half an hour, the latter halfway through yet another retelling of how he'd brought down Dirge and what Ramjet had had to say about it. Skydive showed no sign of dropping off, optics glowing watchfully as he followed his own thoughts in silence.

"He's going to be fine," Skyfire said after a time. Skydive jumped slightly, and turned a questioning frown on Skyfire. "Slingshot. He's going to be fine. I'm not a medic but I can read the scanners, and he was completely stable. He just needs time."

"Oh." Skydive seemed to hesitate, almost falling back into that impenetrable silence, but then all at once words burst out of him like he'd been saying them over and over in his own mind. "We argued. Right before he went on patrol. I said some things and I wish I hadn't and..."

He clamped his mouth shut, looking away. Skyfire was hard put to move at all, pinned down as he was by Fireflight's sleeping weight, but he managed to free a hand and touched Skydive's shoulder lightly with one finger.

"If I may offer an observation," he said, "from what I know of Slingshot, which I admit is not all that much, I would suspect he would give as good as he got in any sort of disagreement."

"Well. Yes. But it's different."

"Because you're not the one lying in medbay?"

"Partly." Skydive curled in on himself, unconsciously moving closer to Skyfire and his brothers. Skyfire would have liked to put an arm around him, but he didn't know Skydive as well as Fireflight or Silverbolt, and he wasn't sure it would be welcome. "But Slingshot's not... I mean, he talks tough and he acts like he's got no brain and no spark and you could smack him down and he'd just jump up again but..."

He trailed off, unable to put into words something that he just knew in his spark, but Skyfire had an idea of what he meant. It had taken him a long time to see it, but beneath Slingshot's bravado and aggression was the same fear that haunted all the Aerialbots, whether they knew it or not - the fear that they were not good enough, that they could never live up to the expectations of their creators. In Slingshot's case, Skyfire was beginning to suspect, it was compounded by something more specific and personal: that he might not live up to the expectations of his brothers, either.

"I'm sure--" Skyfire began, only to be interrupted by the door opening and Silverbolt's weary entrance.

"You're done so soon?" Skydive asked, sitting forward anxiously. He was always so jumpy about Silverbolt's debriefs, ready to leap to his brother's defence and suspicious of the commanding officers' judgement.

"Yes," Silverbolt replied, leaning against the door with a sigh. "We're holding a full review tomorrow, Optimus wanted everyone not on duty to get some rest. I just made my report and left."

"Oh."

"I had a message from Ratchet, though," Silverbolt went on, half-smiling. "He says that now the med bay's cleared out, one of us can go and sit with Slingshot. I thought maybe you'd--"

Skydive jumped off the couch so fast that Skyfire felt it rebound beneath him.

"I'll go right away!"

"Just don't forget to get some recharge yourself, okay?"

"I will, I will."

Before he left, Skydive paused to throw his arms around Silverbolt in a long hug. Neither of them spoke, but Skyfire felt like he was eavesdropping on something personal. He looked away. A moment later the door opened and closed, and when Skyfire looked up again, Silverbolt had come to stand by the couch, regarding his sleeping brothers with an odd, discontented expression.

"I see they've got you again."

"I really don't mind."

To Skyfire's surprise, that didn't seem to have been the right response. Silverbolt noticeably drew in on himself, nodded, and turned towards the door of his quarters.

"I need to recharge."

"Silverbolt?" Despite his words of a moment ago, Skyfire abruptly wished that Fireflight were anywhere other than his lap; he wanted to jump up and catch hold of his friend's arm. Unable to move, he had only words to resort to, and they came out more honest than he had perhaps intended. "Don't go."

Silverbolt hesitated, but only until Skyfire added, almost involuntarily, "Please?"

"I'm just so tired," Silverbolt said as he lowered himself gingerly onto the couch, careful of his wings. It sounded more like an apology than an explanation. "I just..."

Skyfire shifted Fireflight over so he could reach out and slip his arm around Silverbolt. All at once whatever had been holding Silverbolt back seemed to dissolve, and he turned and pressed in as close to Skyfire as he could get, turning his head to hide his face against Skyfire's chest. Skyfire moved his hand to that spot on Silverbolt's wings - thankfully undamaged - which always seemed to relax him the most. After a few moments one of Silverbolt's hands came up to rest warmly on Skyfire's cockpit, curled ever so slightly as if to make sure Skyfire didn't go anywhere.

"I'm going to fall asleep on you again if you keep doing that," he said.

"I don't see a problem with that."

Silverbolt gave a low breath of laughter that tickled Skyfire's plating, but made no reply for a while. It was only when Skyfire was beginning to feel he might drift into recharge himself that Silverbolt spoke again.

"I guess I just wanted you to myself for a while," he whispered, offlining his optics with a sigh.

The words resonated through Skyfire's spark, triggering a depth of response he hadn't felt in a long time - how long had it been since there had been anyone in his life he cared about as much as Silverbolt?

He almost said something utterly ridiculous in response, something like you can have me for as long as you like, but fortunately he couldn't quite get his vocaliser to work, and by the time the words were hesitating on his tongue, he realised Silverbolt was asleep.

Chapter Text

Slingshot was bored out of his processor. He was absolutely certain he would go stark crazy if he didn't get out of medbay soon.

It wasn't like Ratchet was doing anything to him any more. It was all 'rest and recharge and blah blah hey are you listening, kid?' and Slingshot didn't see why he couldn't do that somewhere else. Like the Aerialbots' couch, or the rec room, or outside. Anywhere else.

But Silverbolt was on Ratchet's side, of course, and weirdly so were the rest of his brothers. Even Fireflight! That little traitor had cheerfully promised Ratchet to sit on Slingshot if he tried to go anywhere. And Air Raid had told him not to be an idiot when he'd suggested sneaking out when Ratchet wasn't looking - which was the gear calling the gasket round if he ever heard it.

So Slingshot was still in the medbay with nothing at all to do (apart from read the datapads Skydive had brought him or watch one of the movies Air Raid had left or play with the little remote control plane Fireflight had found somewhere or catch up on his reports like Silverbolt had suggested although he'd also slipped in some sort of shooting game on a handheld console - but he didn't want to do any of that right now) and every time he started thinking about maybe trying to get up and sneak off, Ratchet seemed to materialise out of nowhere to glare at him. Slingshot had gone as far as constructing an elaborate conspiracy theory that involved Silverbolt - or maybe the rest of them as well - monitoring him through the gestalt link and tipping Ratchet off via the comms, but he'd been forced to abandon it when Ratchet maintained his uncanny timing even while the Aerialbots were in recharge or otherwise busy. Obviously the mech was just psychic. Creepy.

And okay so his brothers were there to keep him company as much as they could, but right now they were out on patrol and Slingshot had been alone for a whole hour and he was so fragging bored.

It was as he was beginning a second hour of contemplating how bored he was that the medbay doors slid open. Slingshot briefly perked up at the break from the monotony, even though the gestalt link told him it wasn't any of his brothers, but sank back into sullen discontent when he recognised Skyfire. His expression darkened when the shuttle made straight for his berth.

"What do you want?"

"I thought you might appreciate some company."

As usual, Skyfire didn't react to the hostile tone. That drove Slingshot nuts. He could never get a handle on the big mech - he always seemed calm and polite and boring, even when he was angry. Pit, it had only been because they'd been in field contact when Skyfire had broken up that fight that Slingshot had known he was angry at all - he might have been absentmindedly moving the furniture for all you could tell from the outside. But they had been in field contact, and Slingshot had been startled and a little thrown by the depth he felt beneath that calm exterior. Maybe that was why he'd done as he was told and gone back to his brothers - that and the sneaking, barely articulated awareness, hot with shame, that Skyfire had been right.

Not that Slingshot was going to cut him any slack because of that.

"What, your company? No thanks."

This didn't seem to deter Skyfire either. He pulled up one of the stools Slingshot's brothers had left scattered by the berth and took a seat

"Then I shan't force it on you," Skyfire said. "But I did think you might be interested in this."

He indicated a datapad. Slingshot cast it a sceptical look. It was his experience that good things did not come on datapads.

"It's my report on the space bridge attack," Skyfire went on, though Slingshot had pointedly not asked. "I thought you might--"

"Do you seriously expect me to read your report?" Slingshot broke in, too incredulous to be properly scathing. "I'm not that bored."

A slight smile tugged at Skyfire's mouth. It made him look unexpectedly mischievous.

"You have no idea how tempted I am to say yes to that, just to see your expression," he said. "But actually I just thought you might want to know how the Decepticons pulled it off."

"Silverbolt'll tell me," Slingshot retorted, sinking back against the berth and folding his arms mutinously. "You don't have to."

"Oh, I know, but I have to submit this to Optimus first, and I don't suppose it'll get to the other officers for another few days."

Slingshot let his arms drop, taken aback. "You haven't told Silverbolt yet?"

"I didn't want to start any rumours before I'd had a chance to be sure of my conclusions," Skyfire replied - then added quickly, "not that Silverbolt would talk, of course, but these things have a way of getting about."

Slingshot hesitated. On the one hand, he didn't want to ask. That'd be like admitting defeat in some obscure way. On the other hand, it had been niggling away at him since the attack: just how had the Decepticons got the drop on him so easily? He hadn't even known he was under attack until he'd finally come back online in a smoking heap on the ground. Just sneaking in through the space bridge shouldn't have given them that much of an edge.

And if Skyfire hadn't even submitted the report yet, Slingshot would be the first to know for once, instead of waiting around for the higher-ups to decide to pass on the information to the common mech.

"Yeah, well," he said carelessly, "I guess you can tell me if you want. Not like I've got anything better to do."

If Skyfire had laughed or smirked or in any way implied he'd scored a point, Slingshot would have bristled up like a furious cat and refused to listen to another word. But the big mech just looked honestly pleased as he put the datapad down on the cabinet by the berth and settled himself more comfortably on his stool.

"The short answer is: Soundwave."

Slingshot sat up indignantly.

"That creepy-aft son-of-a-glitch? No way, I'da known if he'd tried to get in my head."

"Yes, I'm sure you would have," Skyfire agreed - and he didn't seem to mean it sarcastically, either. "The gestalt bond interferes with external manipulation - you're much more used to the feeling of other minds than most mechs, so you pick it up quickly if someone tries to establish a link without your knowledge."

"Huh." Slingshot settled down, chewing that over. "So whaddya mean it was him? Did he shoot me down?"

"No, that was almost certainly Starscream - I think he got you point blank with the null-rays. You'd have been offline before you hit the ground."

"Starscream couldn't sneak up on me," Slingshot said with utter scorn. "I'd hear him coming. His engine's got a funny whine in it, different from the others."

"You noticed that?" Skyfire sounded surprised - maybe even a bit impressed. "I agree he couldn't have got the drop on you normally. I don't suppose any of them could, actually - you seem to have good sensors. That's where Soundwave comes in. He usually has to be in close contact with a mech to influence them, but Starscream built a kind of amplifier using the space bridge itself. It was acting as a jamming device, but Soundwave could control its effects much more delicately than a normal jamming field. That's why it was affecting the Autobots but not the Decepticons."

"That still doesn't explain why--"

"Hold on, I'm getting there." Skyfire held up a hand and Slingshot reluctantly subsided, too curious to resent the interruption. "The first thing he did must have been to concentrate the whole thing on you. With that much power and only one mech to focus on, he could easily have blocked all your sensors, not just the comms, for long enough for Starscream to take you out. You were the only one who might have been able to get out of range quickly enough to sound the alarm, you see, so they had to get you first. Then Soundwave broadened the jamming to affect the whole area, and there was no way for the rest of the garrison to get help. Fortunately he couldn't use that kind of complete blocking on more than one mech, otherwise they'd have all been sitting ducks. And fortunately your brothers felt it when you were taken down. Soundwave couldn't block your gestalt link. I would have thought he'd realise that, with gestalts of their own..."

"Maybe they didn't tell him," Slingshot suggested, hiding a shudder at the idea of Soundwave spreading invisible tendrils all over his sensors. "I wouldn't tell that fragger something like that. Might need it sometime."

"Hmm. That might well be it." Skyfire toyed with his datapad as he considered. "One can generally count on the Decepticons to mistrust each other. Anyway, that was how it worked, I'm pretty sure. The amplifier was drawing power from the space bridge, which helped give Soundwave the reach to block all of us - he was bending space very slightly around the bridge. When Mirage closed it, Soundwave would have had all the feedback dumped into his processor at once. I would expect that sort of short-circuit to burn him out completely, or nearly so – if he survived, he won't be functional for a while."

"Good."

Skyfire shot him a glance; Slingshot automatically tensed, expecting disapproval, but to his surprise saw something like agreement in the shuttle's optics. It was gone almost at once, and Skyfire was getting to his feet.

"Anyway, that's it - that's my theory, at least, though I'm certain it's correct. There are two particularly worrying aspects to it, of course, but--"

"What?"

Slingshot leaned forward eagerly, ignoring the slight twinge of damaged plating. He almost would have caught at Skyfire's arm, but the bigger mech didn't try to leave without answering.

"First, that they could potentially do it again, although the circumstances were somewhat unique. I don't believe thay could power it without access to the space bridge's warp weave, so it is only a risk while in that vicinity. And second..." He hesitated. "This is strictly confidential, of course."

"I'm not gonna run my vocaliser like one of those minibots!"

"Well... the second aspect is the more of a concern, in its way. Starscream and the other Seekers must have already been on Cybertron. That's presumably why we saw nothing of them for so long. But Soundwave was definitely on Earth when the Autobots took the space bridge. He was prominent in that battle. Yet he must have come through from Cybertron with Starscream when they attacked; otherwise he could never have reached the amplifier and hooked himself up to it before you realised the bridge was open. By my calculations, there should be no way he could have reached Cybertron through normal space in the time between the two battles - even Astrotrain's top speed would fall short. So..."

"The fraggers. They've got another space bridge?"

"I don't know. It's possible, though I can't see how. That, or they've found some other means of reaching Cybertron in record time."

Slingshot knew he wasn't the most strategy-minded of 'bots, but even he could see why that would be very bad news. The whole Autobot-Decepticon balance hinged on access to Cybertron. The Decepticons had the space bridge, but the Autobots had Omega Supreme, who could reach Cybertron through normal space in half the time it would take Astrotrain or Octane, and for a fraction of the cost in energon of opening the space bridge. The Decepticons finding another means of access would be like adding holes to a bucket; sooner or later there would be too many to stop all the leaks.

"At any rate," Skyfire went on, picking up his report and turning it over in his hands, "I've done all I can without more data. After I've handed this in it'll be up to Optimus to decide what to do about it."

He hesitated on the point of leaving. Slingshot wondered if he was waiting to be asked to stay, or thanked - neither of which were responses Slingshot could bring easily to his vocaliser. But after a moment, what Skyfire said, in fact, was, "I don't believe I've thanked you properly yet."

Slingshot opened his mouth, shut it again, wondered if he'd heard right, then finally asked, "For what?"

"Taking down Skywarp. That was an incredible shot. Thank you."

Slingshot had no idea what to say to that, so he settled for a brusque nod. It seemed to be enough. Skyfire nodded back, in a more friendly fashion, and headed for the door.

Slingshot settled back in the berth and turned his thoughts to Soundwave and Starscream, and the things he was going to do to them next battle. He thought he might try using his vertical takeoff to get right up Starscream's afterburners. That'd teach the fragger to sneak up on a mech with dirty mind-control boxes...

The next time Ratchet came through, he wondered aloud if he ought to magnetise Slingshot's berth until he stopped grinning like that.

It was ridiculous to miss someone when they were around all the time. Silverbolt knew that. It didn't stop him from finally identifying the weight in his spark as exactly that: he missed Skyfire.

Or rather, paradoxically, he missed having someone whom his brothers had no interest in, who was outside the chaotic blend of his gestalt. Somehow - Silverbolt still wasn't exactly sure how - that had changed recently. Air Raid and Fireflight automatically included Skyfire in their plans. Skydive never actively sought him out, but seemed to enjoy talking to him when he was there. Even Slingshot had - not warmed to Skyfire exactly, but at least seemed to grudgingly take his presence for granted.

It should have made Silverbolt happy to see Skyfire accepted by his gestalt. It did make him happy, mostly - happy to see his brothers beginning to appreciate what he'd known all along - happy to catch Skyfire's optic sometimes and share a moment of silent understanding, a smile, while the others carried on bickering or laughing or devising unlikely plans for their next downtime. And it made his spark ache pleasantly every time he saw Skyfire do or say something so quietly caring for one of his brothers - made him want to go over to Skyfire and take his hand and sit close enough that their energy fields blended, so Skyfire could feel the almost inexpressible mix of thank you and you're amazing and you know it goes both ways, right?

But half the time he couldn't get close to Skyfire - damn Fireflight and his limpet tendencies - and the other half it just felt like something too private to try and share when his brothers were all around them. He saw Skyfire all the time in breaks and downtime, and yet it felt like they hadn't really talked for weeks. Even when Silverbolt stopped by the lab, he'd find Perceptor or Wheeljack working with Skyfire on something, or Fireflight - again - perched on a bench and chattering away excitedly.

He knew, logically, that it was easily fixed. That all he had to do was comm Skyfire and suggest they go somewhere together - or ask if he could come by Skyfire's quarters and watch another of those Cybertronian movies - or even just see if he could stop by the lab sometime when no-one else was around.

And he didn't do it. And didn't do it. Because, in the depths of his spark, he wondered if Skyfire would really want to. He obviously liked Silverbolt's brothers. When he was with them these days, Silverbolt saw that lost look in his optics less and less. It seemed to mean the world to him that the Aerialbots wanted him with them, and Silverbolt felt like a traitor - to his brothers and to Skyfire - every time he caught himself wishing things back the way they were.

The worst part was, he had no-one to talk to about it - because the person who would have understood was Skyfire, and Skyfire was, of course, the one person he couldn't explain it to.

He tried to bring the topic up with Hot Spot, but Hot Spot seemed more bemused than anything.

"So tell them all to get lost for a bit," he said. "You know you need your own space - it was you who taught me that, even."

And Silverbolt couldn't find words to explain: he didn't just need to get away from his brothers, he needed to take Skyfire with him - and he needed Skyfire to want to go.

Which sounded so convoluted even in his own head that it finally brought him up short.

This is ridiculous.

It was almost the end of Skyfire's shift, and the other Aerialbots were, Silverbolt was pretty sure, doing something he probably ought to be worried about at the far end of the Ark. Well, for once they could look after themselves. He said a quick goodbye to Hot Spot, finished his energon, and set out for Skyfire's lab.

Halfway there, he realised he could have just commed, but he decided he might as well keep going now he'd started. Besides, comming didn't feel like enough. Maybe, just maybe Skyfire would have finished early and be working on something of his own; maybe Silverbolt could sit next to him for a while and watch his amazing, clever hands at work, and maybe he could find an excuse to take them in his again...

When he keyed open the door and found the lab empty, Silverbolt's spark felt like it physically sank in his chest. He was about to step back out again, except he paused, not even sure why, because something he couldn't put a name on was wrong...

(Later, thinking about it, he'd realise that he could smell smoke, and that the bench Skyfire had been working on was covered in broken glass and scattered components.)

So he hesitated a moment longer, and realised he'd been mistaken. The lab wasn't empty after all.

"Skyfire?"

Silverbolt stumbled in his rush across the lab and clipped a work bench, but Skyfire didn't stir even at the unholy clatter as a set of carefully organised tools were knocked to the floor. He was slumped against the far wall, almost hidden behind the nearer bench, his optics grey. Silverbolt was closer to panic than he could ever remember being - there was no gestalt link here to tell him what was wrong, no way of knowing if Skyfire was even...

Skyfire's plating was at least warm under Silverbolt's hands as he shook him, and this close he could hear the ragged racing of internal systems - in no way a healthy sound, but at least one indicative that Skyfire was not completely offline. Silverbolt started to scan him, but the readings made no sense, and he realised that Skyfire's plating wasn't just warm, it was hot. That smoke wasn't from a failed experiment, it was creeping inexorably from the seams in Skyfire's chest. He fumbled for the catches, trying to release the outer armour, but Skyfire's worked differently from Silverbolt's or his brothers, and he couldn't figure it out, and the smoke seemed thicker now, and...

His comms were pinging four ways all at once, and he belatedly felt his brothers' reaction to the raw panic that had been flooding through the bond. It was enough to give him focus; enough to snap him out of the tunnel vision that had set in as soon as he'd seen Skyfire on the floor.

He clamped down hard on the bond, ignored his brothers' comm signals, and opened an emergency transmission to medbay.

Coming back online was a foggy, unpleasant process, quite unlike Skyfire's usual snap to consciousness. His systems lagged awkwardly, not quite in sync, and when he was awake enough to wonder where he was, he also became aware of a considerable amount of discomfort. His chest plates had been opened recently, and his internals felt scorched and sore despite the painkillers he could feel buffering his pain receptors.

Skyfire managed to get his optics online, only to find himself contemplating the medbay ceiling. Ah. He had a feeling that was a bad thing. He'd been expecting his lab. He bullied his chronometer into working, got a reading that was much longer than the few minutes he'd hoped for, and braced himself. Ratchet was going to tear him a new exhaust port as soon as he realised Skyfire was awake...

He turned his head, looking for the medic. His optics fell on Silverbolt instead, sitting quietly by the berth reading something on a datapad. Some of the trepidation eased. Skyfire managed a weak smile.

"Hello."

Silverbolt looked up sharply. He didn't smile back; his optics were so pale they were almost white, and Skyfire was taken aback. He'd never seen that look on Silverbolt's face; he didn't know what it meant.

"How do you feel?" Silverbolt asked, but the words weren't warm; they were clipped as though he were biting each one off as it left his vocaliser.

"Like I lost a fight with a comet, but not too bad."

Silverbolt nodded. He put his datapad down on a nearby bench with a neat, loud clack.

"Ratchet tells me," Silverbolt began, very quietly and very calmly, "that you do this a lot."

Oh, Pit.

"Not really," Skyfire replied. "I'm not in medbay any more than anyone else--"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about."

Silverbolt's voice lost a little of its icy control, and his optics flashed. Skyfire realised finally that what he was seeing was Silverbolt angry - not just irritated by his brothers or snappish under too much stress, but utterly furious. His spark sank.

"What exactly did Ratchet say? You know he tends to get carried away--"

"As I understand it," Silverbolt cut in, and Skyfire was momentarily struck by how beautiful Silverbolt's anger made him - all cold fire and diamond edges, all control over flashing fury, "you've been installing experimental tech into your own systems, as Ratchet put it, 'on a regular basis since we hauled him out of the ice, and before that, as far as I can tell'."

"It's the quickest way to test," Skyfire said. "And my systems are really quite different from everyone else's aboard the Ark - ten million years out of date, for one thing. Ratchet couldn't upgrade me if he wanted to. All I'm doing is bringing my system standards up with the current--"

"Short-circuiting yourself and almost burning up your sensor wiring is a standard system function, is it?"

"It's not like this happens every time."

"And what if Ratchet has to repair you after a battle, only to find you've put something in or taken something out and he doesn't know if he's fixing you or making it worse?"

"That's never happened yet."

"But it will!" Silverbolt's voice cracked abruptly and Skyfire winced. "Sooner or later, and Primus knows why it hasn't been sooner - Ratchet said you'd deliberately overridden every failsafe on your sensor network! If that thing hadn't shorted out, the next time you got hit by any sort of energy weapon you'd have gone into cascade failure."

Skyfire briefly offlined his optics, battling a mixture of guilt and defensiveness.

"It's not like I was planning to walk around like that," he said as calmly as he could. "I would have reactivated the failsafes as soon as I was done tweaking the upgrade."

"Except for the part where the 'upgrade' ended up doing exactly what the failsafes were supposed to prevent." Silverbolt had himself under control again and the words were coming out fast but precise. "At least as far as I understand it. And as far as Ratchet understands it, which he's mostly had to do from guesswork. Because you didn't tell anyone what you were doing before you decided to wire Primus knows what into your own damn systems!"

"Are you quite finished?" Skyfire tried to keep his voice modulated, but he could hear the sharpness in it all the same. "It's not nearly so simple or clear cut as that. I took comprehensive precautions and only--"

"Not comprehensive enough, obviously."

"-- only a freak accident could have caused what you're describing. Undetectable metal fatigue or a coding loop that would only activate under very specific circumstances--"

"Very specific circumstances which seem to have very specifically happened to you!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Skyfire snapped, and saw Silverbolt's mouth set in a hard line. "And nor does Ratchet. I am an expert in my own systems and I don't need you or anyone else trying to tell me how to--"

"I don't need to be an expert in your systems to recognise when something's dangerous! I know I'm not a scientist--"

"No," Skyfire cut in bluntly, "you're not."

Silverbolt froze, all that lightning-crackle anger suddenly giving way to a terrible, naked hurt that hit Skyfire like a slap in the face. Then it vanished behind a distant expression that Skyfire knew all too well as Silverbolt's way of hiding his emotions.

"Fine." Silverbolt stood up and retrieved his datapad from the table. "I'm not a scientist and I don't have a clue what you were trying to do. But I would have sat with you while you did it, and then you'd have been in medbay before your systems went critical. All you had to do was ask."

He hesitated for a second as if he was expecting Skyfire to say something, but Skyfire couldn't find the words. He wanted to defend himself, and at the same time he knew he'd been stupid; he shouldn't have hooked up the sensor buffer without a final round of tests, but he'd been impatient and in a hurry, and maybe he would have told Ratchet what he was planning if Ratchet didn't lecture him every damn time...

"I have to go," Silverbolt said finally, turning away.

Skyfire watched him cross the medbay and open the door, but it was only as Silverbolt stepped out into the corridor that he managed to swallow his pride.

"Silverbolt--"

The door was shut before he'd finished, and when it didn't reopen, Skyfire knew he hadn't been heard.

Air Raid wasn't usually the one who had to fix things. That was Silverbolt's job. But since, in this case, Silverbolt was part of what needed fixing, they were left with a problem.

Three days of poking their leader had resulted in no progress beyond Silverbolt becoming increasingly short-tempered. It was bewildering and frustrating to see him so visibly unhappy for causes that were, for once, completely beyond his brothers' control. The simplest thing to do seemed to be to blame Skyfire - except Air Raid was really starting to like Skyfire. He was nice to have around - comforting and sensible and unexpectedly good fun sometimes.

And he made Silverbolt happy - usually - which was the real clincher.

So clearly it was time to Fix Things. The Silverbolt end of the problem didn't seem to be responding to stimulus, so Air Raid decided to start elsewhere. Which meant talking to Skyfire. Which meant finding Skyfire.

For such a big mech, he could be surprisingly elusive, but Air Raid eventually tracked him down to the very top of the mountain above the Ark, staring moodily at the night sky with half a cube of energon in his hand. If it had been one of Air Raid's brothers, he would have said they were sulking. He suspected that that wasn't far off the mark with Skyfire either.

Air Raid managed an awkward landing on the very narrow bit of mostly flat rock that Skyfire was using as a seat. He lost his balance at the last minute, but Skyfire quickly grabbed a flailing arm and steadied him, which Air Raid thought was pretty good of him, since he obviously didn't really want company.

"Are you okay?" Skyfire asked as Air Raid flattened himself against the mountainside and waited for his systems to calm down.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." Air Raid slid down the rock until he was sitting next to Skyfire. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not the one who almost fell off a mountain."

"Yeah, but." Air Raid wriggled closer, just enough for their fields to touch. "Are you okay?"

Skyfire was silent for a few moments, and Air Raid could feel his reluctance to answer, mixed up with a surprising swirl of resentment. It felt a lot like how Air Raid felt when he'd done something stupid and he knew it was stupid and yet everyone kept telling him it was stupid and he couldn't admit it because he was so sick of hearing it...

"I'm mostly repaired," Skyfire replied at last. "Some of my wiring needs a full replacement. Ratchet thinks he'll be done with that by the end of the week."

"A whole week?" said Air Raid, horrified. "With Ratchet?"

That won a half-laugh from Skyfire. "At least I'm allowed out."

"I heard," Air Raid went on after a pause, "you got in trouble with Prime over it."

Skyfire was silent and Air Raid could feel him closing up over whatever reaction he had to that.

"It's just, that happens to me a lot, you know, so I thought--"

"It's really not the same thing," Skyfire snapped.

Air Raid muted his vocaliser, hurt. After a moment Skyfire sighed and glanced sideways at him.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not having a good week." He stopped and stared into his energon cube, then added quietly and with obvious effort, "And it's entirely my own fault."

Air Raid was impressed. Admitting that sort of thing was really hard.

"It's just the officers being tight-afts," he said reassuringly. "They always take things way out of proportion. Like that time we put paint stripper in Sunstreaker's shower, it wasn't like it hurt anyone..."

"That was you?"

"Yeah, that was before we were friends with the twins."

"You're friends with the twins now?"

"Well, yeah." Air Raid frowned, thinking about it. He wasn't sure when that had happened, exactly, but these days he sort of thought of the twins as being on their side. Didn't mean they didn't occasionally pull pranks on each other, but they tended to be less drastic than before. "Shouldn't we be?"

"What? No - I mean, yes--" Skyfire laughed at himself, and Air Raid felt his field relax encouragingly. "I mean, I'm glad that you're friends. Though I'm trying not to think too hard about what exactly you might get up to with those two egging you on..."

"Hey! We can get into trouble perfectly well on our own, thanks."

Skyfire laughed again and there was a short silence, Air Raid following the shifts in Skyfire's field patterns curiously. Skyfire didn't think/feel the way Air Raid's brothers did - though there was a superficial similarity with Silverbolt. He seemed to go much deeper and think in more ordered patterns, and everything was divided up neatly as if he could keep it from overflowing by sheer force of will. Air Raid thought it might be good for him to stop thinking about everything so much and just go with the flow, but he had an idea that Skyfire wouldn't appreciate the advice any more than Silverbolt would.

Speaking of...

"He'll get over it," Air Raid said. "Silverbolt, I mean."

Skyfire tensed up and his field drew in, but not quickly enough to stop Air Raid feeling the hurt/resentment/guilt that went much deeper and sharper than anyone could have guessed from looking at him.

"He's just mad because you scared him. He was the same way the time Skydive and me smashed ourselves up trying out one of Skydive's tricks. It's only 'cos he cares."

"I didn't know it was him that found me," Skyfire said, quietly. "Not until Ratchet told me. I thought Perceptor, or Wheeljack... but if he hadn't come by, no-one would have been in the labs until the next shift." He stopped, then added in a rush of half-hearted justification, "I thought Perceptor was in the lab next door, I didn't know he'd been called away..."

Air Raid nudged Skyfire with a wingtip, and Skyfire cast him a quick, grateful glance. In response, Air Raid stole his energon and took a sip.

"I wasn't finished with that."

"Wasn't finished what, looking at it? You're not meant to look at it."

"It's my energon," Skyfire said with dignity, "and I'll do whatever I want with it."

"Not your energon now, is it?" Air Raid deliberately took a bigger swig. "Use it or lose it."

"I'm almost certain that's not what that phrase is supposed to mean," Skyfire said, but he was having difficulty hiding his smile. "Don't make me take it back by force."

"Ha, I dare you to try and--"

Air Raid had had no idea Skyfire could move so quickly. A ridiculously cautious tussle ensued, both of them very aware of the drop below them, but after a couple of minutes Skyfire managed to pin Air Raid long enough to extract the cube and retreat back to his part of the ledge in triumph.

Air Raid grinned at him, well pleased with the outcome. In his experience, when you could persuade people to stop sulking and get into stupid mock fights it was usually a good sign that Things were on their way to being Fixed.

By the time Silverbolt finished his shift, all he wanted to do was shut down and get some decent recharge, but his processor was already running in the tight, unhappy loops that had been preventing him from properly resting. He could push it aside when he was on duty, but as soon as his time was his own again, the same refrains would start up - the memory of Skyfire so very still and silent, the acute awareness that if Silverbolt hadn't spontaneously decided to visit the lab, he might have lain there for hours, and then the anger and disbelief of the discovery that Skyfire, of all mechs, could have been so utterly reckless...

And the fact that Silverbolt didn't know what to do now. Skyfire wasn't one of his brothers - wasn't under his command - and Silverbolt had no claim but friendship on him. Maybe it wasn't enough to give him the right to speak to Skyfire the way he had in the medbay. Maybe he should have kept his vocaliser muted and let Ratchet and Prime issue the reprimands - except he couldn't have kept quiet if he'd tried. He'd been too angry. He was still angry, come to think of it, but in a weary, miserable way that was starting to hurt more than it helped.

For almost the first time since they'd met, Silverbolt was painfully aware that he was younger than Skyfire, and that there were still vast swathes of Skyfire's past he knew nothing about. He caught himself dwelling more than once, usually in the middle of a fruitless attempt to recharge, on the thought that Skyfire would have had Starscream to help him the past - Starscream who was a scientist, and who presumably, once, would have cared enough about Skyfire's wellbeing to double-check his work. Of course Skyfire hadn't asked Silverbolt to help him out. Silverbolt wouldn't have known where to begin...

Rounding the last corner before the Aerialbots' quarters, the sight of Skyfire himself leaning patiently against the wall gave Silverbolt such a start that he stopped dead. For a moment he felt as though Skyfire must have overheard his thoughts. But Skyfire just looked uncertain, and maybe even nervous, as their optics met.

"Hey."

"Hi," said Silverbolt, and then didn't know what to say next.

Fortunately Skyfire seemed to have made up his mind beforehand, because the next part came out as though he'd psyched himself up for it. "Will you come out flying with me?"

Silverbolt hesitated for a fraction of a second, all too aware of how tired he was - but he couldn't say no. They had to talk, whatever the outcome.

"Okay."

Neither of them said much else until they were in the air. It was mid-morning but the cloud cover was heavy and dark, with spatters of rain dashing against their cockpits as they took off and the threat of thunder in the distance. Skyfire led them up through the cloud layer, and Silverbolt shivered at the prickle of electricity all over his plating. After an ascent so long that Silverbolt would have been getting twitchy if he could see the ground, they finally broke out above the clouds into a peaceful, sunlit world with blue skies overhead. The tall thunderheads that were so dark when seen from below looked pure white from up here, and the warmth of the sun on Silverbolt's wings was like a warm oil bath.

Skyfire levelled out and Silverbolt fell in with him.

"I'll be cleared to go back on duty by the end of the week," Skyfire said.

"That's good."

Skyfire tilted his wings a little as if testing the air currents, then sighed.

"I'm sorry."

There was a brief silence; just as Silverbolt had decided that Skyfire wasn't going to go on, and that he'd better say something in response, Skyfire spoke again.

"You were right. I should have had someone with me. It... never occurred to me to ask."

"Not even Perceptor?"

"He was busy with his own work."

"You couldn't have waited until he wasn't?"

Another pause.

"I suppose I could have," Skyfire admitted.

Silverbolt pulled up a bit to skim over an extended tower of cloud. Skyfire matched him.

"Is this why you don't get on with Ratchet?"

"Yes." Skyfire hesitated, then went on with only the faintest touch of defensiveness, "I can't make him understand that I am qualified to work with my own systems."

"Maybe if you let him know what you were doing, he'd be happier about it?"

"I doubt it. But I'm under orders from Prime now, anyway."

Silverbolt winced at the note of resentment in Skyfire's voice.

"I didn't tell--"

"I know you didn't." Skyfire sighed and the resentment bled out into resignation. "Ratchet had to report it, he would have been derelict in his duty if he hadn't. And Prime had to... speak to me, he couldn't ignore it. Sometimes I forget I am not my own mech these days."

He didn't exactly sound bitter, but Silverbolt wished he were in root-mode so he could reach out and take Skyfire's hand. He settled for edging closer until he could feel Skyfire's slipstream mingling with his own. Skyfire tilted a little toward him, and their fields brushed - like the tentative curl of fingers together.

"You know it's not just that, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's not just rules and regulations. Ratchet doesn't want you to get hurt. Nor does Prime. What did he say to you?"

"Oh..." Skyfire hesitated, and Silverbolt caught the prickle of discomfort at the memory. "He reminded me that, as an Autobot, I have responsibilities, among them not to 'recklessly endanger' myself - his words. He had me explain what I was trying to do, and then he told me I was under standing orders from now on to brief Ratchet before and after any work on my own systems."

"So he didn't tell you to stop."

"He..." Skyfire paused. Then, tone changing to surprise, he said, "No, he didn't."

Silverbolt could have laughed, but he thought Skyfire might take that the wrong way. His friend might be older and more experienced, but sometimes he could be as bad as Silverbolt's brothers - too proud to see past a rebuke to the things that hadn't been said aloud.

"What were you trying to do?"

"A sensor buffer to stop Soundwave ever pulling that trick with the amplifier again. The idea was to double-loop my sensor relays so as to be aware of any external attempts to affect them, plus activate an emergency firewall to avoid the jamming effect. It should work, but I'll have to rebuild it from scratch... it burned out completely."

The memory of Skyfire collapsed and unresponsive flashed into Silverbolt's processor. He tried to hide a shiver, but he felt the ripple of response from Skyfire's field.

"I am sorry," Skyfire murmured after a moment. "I never meant... I had no idea it would go so badly wrong. I never would have tried it otherwise. And I never would have wanted you to have to come in and find me like that."

"I know." Silverbolt could feel the tension between them draining away. "Just... promise me you won't try something like that alone again? No-one's questioning your abilities. But you can't forsee every possibility."

"Okay." Skyfire sideslipped fractionally closer. "I promise."

I don't make promises I don't intend to keep, he'd said. The last of Silverbolt's anxiety ebbed. For the first time in days he knew that things were going to be all right.

They flew in silence for a while, skimming easily above the clouds. It was more soothing than Silverbolt would have believed possible when he was so high up; Skyfire's steady presence off his right wing was as much responsible for that as the dense cloud cover. He rarely flew this close even with his brothers - they had a tendency to flit around more than he was comfortable with - and he found he was enjoying the distinctive mingled sensation of field contact and Skyfire's slipstream. It was almost as electric in its own way as the charged clouds below had been. The quiet thread of pleasure he felt from Skyfire reassured him that it was mutual.

"We should do this more often," he said.

"I'd like that." Skyfire seemed to hesitate over his next words, and when he spoke he was almost apologetic. "I do like your brothers, you know. I like it when we do things in a group. But I'd like it if you and I could still... spend some time without them?"

"I'd like that too," Silverbolt said, very conscious of the warmth that had abruptly swallowed his spark. "I really would."

Something big was coming. Everyone in the Ark seemed to know, even though there had been no official announcement. The scientists were working at a frantic pace - Skyfire included, as soon as he was back on duty - and Optimus's inner circle of advisers were constantly locked into secure briefing rooms with stacks of datapads. Silverbolt had a few bits of information not available to the rank and file, but he hadn't managed to put them together in any way that made sense.

So when word got out that there was to be an Ark-wide meeting within the orn, the general reaction was one of suppressed excitement.

"Maybe we're gonna take back the space bridge," Sideswipe said. "Or drive the Decepticons out of that base of theirs."

"We could be going back to Cybertron," suggested Mirage, who was for once both visible and in the mood for conversation. "Perhaps we're finally done with this planet."

"What, and leave the Decepticons to do what they like?" That was Bumblebee, who had been spending increasing amounts of time outside the Ark with his human friends. "Optimus would never do that."

"The scientists are working on something. Maybe Wheeljack's made a weapon that does what it's supposed to for once."

Silverbolt listened for a while to the increasingly wild theories, then went in search of Skyfire, who was pulling a double shift and told him apologetically that he could only spare five minutes. Five minutes was enough for Silverbolt to hand over the energon Skyfire had forgotten to get for himself, and surreptitiously take the opportunity to lean into field contact and watch Skyfire work. When he left, Skyfire was attempting to stuff a mass of wires and circuit boards into a box half their combined volume, and said goodbye distractedly, but Silverbolt didn't mind. The way Skyfire had automatically made room for him at the bench and his grateful smile when he'd taken the cube of energon were all Silverbolt needed

"I heard we're going to turn invisible and sneak into their base," Fireflight confided when the Aerialbots were in their quarters getting ready to recharge.

"Didn't Megatron try that on us already?" Skydive was the only one who'd actually read the archive reports Silverbolt had given them. "Anyway, how do we get underwater?"

"Just jump in?" suggested Slingshot.

"Right, and then how do you get back up off the sea floor? It's not like we float..."

Silverbolt let the discussion wash over him, absently leaning against Air Raid's foot. He didn't think the plan was anything so direct, but he was careful to keep his vocaliser muted. He didn't want to start any rumours by speculating on his incomplete knowledge.

By the time the Autobots assembled in the hangar bay - the largest space in the Ark - Silverbolt realised he needn't have worried. The rumours had taken on a life of their own and the current favourite theory was something to do with time travel and the Dinobots. He had a feeling that the officers - or Jazz, at least - had been encouraging the crazier ideas to keep people occupied.

Red Alert had sealed the Ark and Optimus didn't begin the meeting until a thorough sweep had been carried out for covert Decepticon surveillance - not that anyone had seen any of Soundwave's cassettes since the last battle. It seemed as though Skyfire had been right about the damage he'd taken - he was either out of action permanently, or still undergoing repairs.

Skyfire himself, to Silverbolt's surprise, was over with Optimus, Prowl and Jazz, conferring about something. Perceptor and Hoist were setting up a holoprojector near the front of the hangar; after a few minutes, Skyfire went to join them, and Optimus called for silence. The hush that fell was so expectant it crackled.

"Thank you."

Grapple had set up a small platform for the officers to stand on, but Optimus didn't really need it. He towered above most of the 'bots present, and all optics were on him.

"I want to begin," Optimus went on, "by commending each and every Autobot present for their dedication and bravery in last week's confrontation with the Decepticons. I also want to tell you something outright: we had no expectation of holding the space bridge beyond our first attack, and every day, every hour you kept it from the Decepticons after that was a bonus we could not have hoped for without your supreme courage and endurance."

There was a pleased murmur from the assembled Autobots, and Silverbolt had to offline his optics for a moment to deal with the surge of gratitude and relief that went through him at the words. Optimus had assured him that the loss of the space bridge had not been too big a blow - and that there was nothing he or his team could have done better to defend it - but he hadn't really believed it until now.

"Thank you, all of you, for what you have accomplished," Optimus said, and though his mouth was as ever invisible, the smile was clear in his voice. "We have surpassed all projections of what use we could make of our access to Cybertron, and as a result, we have brought our plans forward by almost a full Earth year."

He looked around at the hangar full of eager Autobots.

"We've all worked hard over the past few months," he said, "but most of you have been aware of only a small part of what we are trying to accomplish. Those of you who were instrumental in planning the initial raid on the space bridge will be aware that our aim was to make contact with various Autobots on Cybertron, and to awaken some who have been in stasis. In this we have succeeded - Ultra Magnus already has a sizeable force under his command."

Silverbolt scanned quickly through his databanks, but came up blank. He had known the broad aim of the mission, but Ultra Magnus was not a name he recognised. Others around the room seemed better informed - Ratchet was grinning and Ironhide had turned to exchange some amused comment with Hound. Silverbolt shared a baffled glance with Hot Spot, who shrugged. Across the room, Skyfire looked like he wasn't any the wiser either, though Wheeljack had pulled him down and was whispering into his audio receptor.

"So we're going to take back Iacon?" Mirage broke in eagerly.

"Not yet." Optimus sighed and briefly offlined his optics. "We'd just be back where we started, before we left Cybertron. We hoped to find a quick solution to our energy problems here on Earth; then, after awakening from stasis, I hoped we could defeat Megatron's smaller force and turn the tide of the war. Neither is now possible." There was a murmur of dismay from his listeners, but Optimus held up a hand. "Yes, it sounds like terrible news. But in fact, we are in a stronger position than we have been for millennia. The Earth is friendly towards us, so long as we do not seek to plunder it for resources as Megatron would. If we accept that we are here in the long term - if we abandon the idea that we will be returning home in the next month, or year, or decade - we can achieve something that has been beyond our reach since before the Battle of Tyrest. Namely, we can begin to re-energise Cybertron."

A ringing silence followed this pronouncement, quickly succeeded by a babble of shock and slowly dawning hope. Silverbolt wondered if he was the only person for whom hope was accompanied by a feeling of falling. Of course the reawakening of Cybertron was their ultimate goal - but his entire existence so far had been lived on Earth. His only experience of Cybertron was of a silent graveyard - except for that one glimpse he'd had of its past. The memory of that bustling, lively world - the idea that it could be brought back, not just 'someday' but within a measurable period of time - was overwhelming. Silverbolt tried to imagine living there with his brothers, tried to reconstruct what he knew of Cybertronian society from his reading, but he could barely grasp even the outline.

But Optimus had said they would not be leaving Earth for a long time. Silverbolt held onto that as an anchor; there would be time to get used to the idea of Cybertron later. Instinctively, he looked to Skyfire, and found Skyfire's optics already on him. Across the room they couldn't read each other's fields, but they didn't need to - Silverbolt knew Skyfire would find the idea of returning to Cybertron even stranger and more terrifying than he did. Silverbolt wanted to slip through the crowd and make his way to Skyfire's side, but then Optimus was speaking again.

"That is our ultimate goal," he said over the noise, which quickly ceased. "But it will be a long time before we can hope to achieve it. The first step is to establish a full settlement here on Earth. We've made camp in this wreck for long enough. We need to bring in more Autobots from Cybertron, we need better facilities - and I think we'll all agree we need more space. So I believe, Hoist, that you have something to show us..."

The architect grinned and glanced at Perceptor, who activated the holographic display. A three-dimensional image sprang up; for a moment Silverbolt couldn't make sense of it, until he got an idea of the scale. Then he took in the high golden walls, the buildings and towers, the landing pad for spacecraft, and he began to understand.

"We might be able to fix that soon," he half-remembered Skyfire saying, talking about the Aerialbots' cramped accommodations. And all the work he'd been doing on energy conversion... Silverbolt looked for and found star-like crystals studding every rooftop of the structure, the focusing gems of the small but powerful solar energy converters. The humans' sun was a resource they had barely tapped, and one which the Autobots had been unable to fully utilise without leaving themselves open to Decepticon attack. Skyfire and the others had found a way around that.

"We have finally completed our negotiations with the United States government for a suitable area on which to build," Optimus was saying. "These advances in solar power will prove revolutionary for their society as well as ours, once the technology is adapted to suit their electrical infrastructure. We intend to work together for many years to come."

"My friends, may I present to you... Autobot City."

Chapter Text

Cybertron. The word itself tugged strange, nostalgic strings in Silverbolt's processor, and yet as he watched the planet come closer through Skyfire's viewports, he could not have felt more like he was approaching unknown territory. He had lived there once, he knew, in a past life so remote it was barely his own. The process of resparking was strange and barely understood even before the war destroyed so much knowledge. Silverbolt had come to view the occasional flashes of sense-memory as borrowed from another person - one he might not recognise if they somehow met.

It was his home, beyond any doubt - a world built for and by his race, a world tolerant of his size and unique abilities - and yet it was a home Silverbolt had never truly known. Cybertron represented many things: a hope, an ambition, and an uncertainty he could not shake. The 'bots who'd come to Earth in the Ark looked forward to each chance to revisit their lost world. Silverbolt found it a strange and lonely place.

He wasn't the only one with mixed feelings. His brothers took turns peering out of viewports. Slingshot and Skydive were trying to out-boast each other regarding their flying ambitions down among the spires, but their voices carried an unusual hint of restraint - almost reverence. Fireflight was glued to one port and had been ever since Skyfire had told them they were within viewing range. Silverbolt didn't know what he was thinking about, because for once he wasn't talking.

Skyfire was another matter. Leaning against the bulkhead, Silverbolt was not so much brushing his field as enveloped by it. Skyfire always kept himself thoroughly shielded when he was flying people anywhere, trying to maintain privacy as much as possible, but these days his field was never entirely closed to Silverbolt, and as they approached Cybertron, the tug and flow of conflicting emotion was ever more apparent.

He could have opened a comm to Skyfire to talk privately, but he wasn't sure what he would say. There was something wordless about this approach, watching Cybertron loom ever larger in front of them. To Silverbolt it was a home he'd never known; to Skyfire, one that had changed beyond all recognition.

Silverbolt ran a hand absently down the bulkhead, as he might touch Skyfire's arm in root mode, and felt the now-familiar sensation of Skyfire's field reacting to his, twining together momentarily in little eddies of pleasure and recognition.

It was different from the link he shared with his brothers - different from any sort of field contact he'd shared before, even with Hot Spot, whose field was always open and easy to read. There was something not only comforting but thrilling in the touch of Skyfire's thoughts on his, something that made his spark ache and his sensors dim as he lost himself to it. And there was a fierce joy in feeling the echoes from Skyfire of similar emotions, of knowing that Skyfire trusted him enough to open up like this...

"Silverbolt?"

Air Raid's voice jolted him out of his reverie; Silverbolt tore his optics from Cybertron, which he had barely been registering for the last few minutes, to find Air Raid studying him intently. He realised that it was the second time Air Raid had said his name.

"What is it?"

"Just wondering when we're gonna land. You okay there?"

"Of course." Silverbolt stood up straight, moving away from the bulkhead briskly. "What's our ETA, Skyfire?"

Skyfire's voice came through the radio in the cockpit, "Twenty minutes. I'm just about to radio for landing clearance, so brace yourselves - if the Decepticons are in the mood to make things difficult for us, the signal will be enough for them to pin down our location."

Silverbolt nodded before he remembered that Skyfire couldn't see - and then remembered again that he could, sort of, by tracing the echo of it in Silverbolt's field. The others had quietened down to listen

"We'll be ready. Have you seen any sign of activity?"

"Not yet. If Jazz's information is sound, they're preferring to concentrate their efforts on whatever it is they're doing in Kaon. They don't see Iacon as much of a threat."

And they were right, of course, Silverbolt thought privately even as Skydive made some cutting remark that set the others off into a round of scorn aimed at the Decepticons. Iacon wasn't a threat, hadn't been since before the launch of the Ark. The Autobots could ship their whole army back there and it would be nothing to the Decepticon forces swelling daily on the far side of the planet. No, Optimus Prime was right - the Autobots' whole hope lay in their foothold on Earth. It wasn't yet time to reclaim their world.

Still, the Decepticons might be less blasé about these visits from the Autobots if they realised just how much energon was being shipped up, and what it was being used for. Silverbolt was aware that most of Jazz's time was currently taken up with keeping that information firmly out of their hands - and picking up as much as he could on Cybertron.

"I've spoken to Ultra Magnus," Skyfire said, breaking into the chatter and putting an end to Silverbolt's thoughts. "He thinks we'll have a clear run. I'm beginning our descent now."

Silverbolt didn't move to steady himself; he had complete faith in Skyfire's flying skills. He wasn't disappointed. It was hardly even noticeable that they were going down. As his brothers crowded to the windows to look out for Decepticons, he wandered up to the cockpit and leaned on one of the seats there, watching as Cybertron seemed to rise up around them on all sides. His fear of heights didn't even twitch.

A private comm channel pinged.

:We'll be passing over the Academy in a few minutes,: Skyfire said. :It's a big complex, almost a city in its own right. Look out for the tower above the landing strip. It was the tallest in Iacon or any of the surrounding sectors for vorns. Perceptor and I used to go up there to stargaze.:

Peering downwards, Silverbolt could indeed make out the tower and buildings around it, which must be big even by Cybertronian standards. They were dark now, as lifeless as the majority of the world, but he tried to imagine them lit up and full of people, tried to imagine Skyfire living there - working there - being a part of the teeming society that had once existed in this place. How many times had he taken off from that landing strip to visit other worlds?

:Where did you live?:

:There were residential blocks. I had rooms in one of those, though... some other people chose to live outside the complex.:

It wasn't hard for Silverbolt to fill in the omission in that sentence, the unspoken name that Skyfire was so very careful to step around - and which rang out all the louder for it. It was almost impossible to picture Starscream as a scientist, living a life without conflict; Silverbolt struggled to place him in the dimly-conjured vision of the Academy that Skyfire had painted for him.

Struggled, and ultimately put the thought aside, refusing to dwell on it. He didn't want Skyfire to feel the swirl of emotion that struck him whenever he thought about Starscream's role in Skyfire's past. It had been creeping up on him more and more lately - questions he wanted to ask, and didn't want to ask at the same time - a fierce and terrible anger when he thought of how Starscream must have hurt Skyfire - and yet an insidious relief, as well, that the Seeker had done it so thoroughly, and put himself so firmly out of reach.

:Did you meet Perceptor at the Academy?: Silverbolt asked, trying to steer both of them away from dangerous waters.

:Yes, almost as soon as I arrived. He's my oldest friend, really - I never kept in touch with the people I knew before that.:

:What did you do before?:

There was an unexpected silence, and Silverbolt felt Skyfire's field draw in all of a sudden, like he was pushing back some thought or emotion.

:I was sparked to be a pilot,: he said at last. :To transport people to other worlds and bring them back. I... wanted more control over my destiny than that.:

He broke off the private contact abruptly, making Silverbolt worry for a second that he was upset - but it was only to activate the cockpit radio.

"We're coming in to land," Skyfire said to all of them - and out of the window, the great mass of rectangular forms was resolving itself into tall tower blocks and long avenues. "Welcome to Iacon."

Cybertron! Air Raid got a thrill of excitement every time he heard the name. He'd had glimpses of empty cities on the handful of occasions they'd been here, and there'd been that memorable occasion when they'd experienced the bustle of a living Cybertron first hand, but this was the first extended visit to their erstwhile homeworld for any of them. It was a creepy, dark sort of place, to be honest, but Air Raid found himself drawn to it like a moth to headlights. He was itching to explore the huge, sprawling complexes he'd seen as they'd come in to land - and try flying through some of those great canyons of metal out beyond Iacon's centre...

He had a pretty good idea what Silverbolt would think of that idea, which was why he wasn't going to mention it. He knew Skydive would be up for slipping off to fly. Pit, all of the others would be, probably, it was just the logistics of all four of them sneaking off that was hard to manage.

Though maybe not as hard as he'd thought. Silverbolt was... easily distracted at the moment, at least so long as the distraction was large, white, and Skyfire-shaped. Air Raid had his own ideas about that, but he was keeping his vocaliser muted. He wasn't sure if his brothers had caught on. He wasn't actually sure if Silverbolt had caught on, although surely he couldn't be that oblivious, right? I mean, he was supposed to be the smart one... right? But whilst some of the Aerialbots had made brief and curious forays into the wide world of physical intimacy (Air Raid had Sunstreaker to thank for his, and felt he was currently the expert of the group), Silverbolt had, to all appearances, simply been too busy to even think about it.

Well, with any luck he'd start doing some thinking soon. They were on Cybertron for a reason - energon didn't deliver itself - but they were staying longer than they needed to. The official reason had a lot of stuff in it about "acclimatisation" and "team integration" and such, but the unofficial reason was that someone had apparently pointed out that the Aerialbots were well overdue for a vacation. Air Raid had his suspicions about who that someone had been, and it began with a 'Sky' and ended with a 'fire'. Not that it would be a real holiday as such - they were expected to join the Iacon duty roster - but it was a change of scene, and things were much quieter on Cybertron than on Earth at present.

So here they were. Skyfire had come into land in a huge bay, sealed off by immense doors, and easily capable of holding Omega Supreme five times over. They'd been met by Ultra Magnus himself and an older mech introduced as Kup, who looked them all over, declared them "another pack of young tearaways and Primus help us", and warned them under no circumstances to listen to anything someone called Hot Rod might tell them. Air Raid made a mental note to keep an optic out for the mech (and find out what it was he wasn't supposed to be listening to). Then they were being led out of the bay and into a series of identical corridors.

"This way," Kup said briskly, as Ultra Magnus exchanged a few words with Silverbolt, nodded to the rest of them, and turned down a side passage. "The big rec room's up here. That's where the energon dispensors are, though they're on strict rationing-- but you know that," he interrupted himself, with a shake of the head. "Sorry, I forget you're not comin' outta stasis like some of them. They don't know which way's up for a few orns after, and we've had a problem or two with 'bots tryin' to sneak more than their share..."

"What, really?" broke in Fireflight, shocked, even as Slingshot snarled, "Thieving glitches!" and Skydive, quick on the defensive, cut in icily, "I hope you don't think for a second that we'd even consider--"

"Whoa, whoa, easy!" Kup held up his hands in protest. "Now wait a klik--"

"They've never known anything but rationing, Kup," Skyfire said - quietly, but with his usual knack of cutting through the din to be heard. "And on the Ark it's been a court martialling offence to exceed energon rations from the moment it left Cybertron." And then, to the rest of them, "But the people coming out of stasis up here would have been put to sleep before the energon situation got really bad - that was the point, you see, to conserve what was left by putting people into storage. So they're waking up now and, to them, their rations must seem incredibly small. I know it took me a while to adjust when I first came out of stasis and arrived on the Ark."

Air Raid supposed that made sense, although it was hard to overcome the sheer outrage that had flashed through him at the idea of breaking a rule so fundamental to their daily lives. But Kup was nodding, even as he gave Skyfire a curious look.

"You didn't set out on the Ark then? I thought I didn't recognise you - got a good processor for faces, I have. You were one of them ones Prime brought in a few years back?"

"I-- no, sometime before that. I was in stasis on Earth. It's a long story."

"Hey," Air Raid broke in, because he didn't need field contact to tell just how much Skyfire didn't want to explain his past right now, "you said the big rec room, right? Is there a small one too?"

"There's a bunch'a small ones," Kup started, but was again brought to a halt by the chorus of surprised questions. "Whoa, one at a time!"

"We've been living in the wreckage of the Ark for years," Silverbolt said. He'd been rather quiet after they'd left the landing hall, and Air Raid had the impression he hadn't quite been paying attention - but he seemed to have tuned in now. "It will be a nice change to have more than one common area."

"There, now, and I was gonna apologise for the facilities." Kup shook his head. "Guess I oughta have thought how it would look to you. We've got plenty of space, at least, even if it's mostly empty at the moment. The rec room's just up ahead - should be some 'bots around at this time of shift."

He went on to start explaining something about the energon dispensers, but Air Raid wasn't listening. They'd stepped out of the corridor into what Kup had called the 'rec room' - talk about an understatement!

It was an enormous hub with a number of passageways leading into it from all directions. Above them was a clear dome; Cybertron's stars could be seen far above. Directly beneath the dome were more chairs and tables than the inhabitants of the Ark could have used three times over. Around the central area ran a raised walkway that was interspersed with what Air Raid guessed tentatively were shop booths - empty and unattended - and vidscreens with console inputs. It seemed bogglingly large compared with the common spaces on the Ark.

"Yeah, used to be a public spaceport," Kup was saying in response to a question from Skydive. "We've taken it over, tried to make it a bit more homey, but I gotta say, it's a big old empty sort of place and I for one will be glad to get out. How's construction going?"

"The foundations are down," Silverbolt said. Air Raid grimaced, thinking about the metal girders he'd been roped into hauling around the site for Hoist and Grapple. "There were some problems with the water table, but I think that's going to turn out to be an advantage. So far it's been easy to keep it all hidden from Decepticon patrols - Hound's been helping keep holograms going full-time - but as soon as we start putting the walls up, it's going to turn into much more of a target."

"Still, once the outer emplacements are assembled, the site as a whole will be much easier to defend," Skyfire said. "Best estimate for completion of the walls and guardposts is eighteen months - sorry, forty orns or so - and that's if we manage to remain undetected..."

Air Raid caught Skydive's optic. They drifted away from the conversation, which was by now so familiar they could practically recite it by heart. The construction team had been working on the foundations for six months, and the Aerialbots had been out at the site flying patrols (when they weren't being pressganged into helping with the construction) most of that time, living in cramped hangars with corrugated iron roofs when they were off-duty. Air Raid almost wished sometimes that the Decepticons would find the site - at least it would make their lives more interesting.

Still, they didn't have to go back yet.

"It's pretty big," Skydive said. "Not many people here though."

"Didn't Silverbolt say they'd only woken up a couple of dozen? I guess most of them are on shift."

The were three or four 'bots around; two were sitting drinking energon together, one was reading a datapad, and a fourth seemed to be in recharge, sprawled comfortably over two chairs. One of the energon drinkers, a pink femme, glanced over and caught Air Raid's optic. She seemed startled, her gaze flicking quickly over him and Skydive, then going to the others back with Kup. She turned to say something to her companion, who cast them a look that could only be described as suspicious.

Air Raid pointedly turned his back and leaned on the rail he'd been looking over. If they were going to be like that, he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of curiosity.

Kup was shepherding the others towards a corridor on the far side. Air Raid was tempted to stay where he was, just to see if they noticed, but Skydive had already started after them so he tagged along as well.

He caught himself missing the familiar rise and fall of conversation from the Ark rec room, small as it was. About this time would be when the minibots settled into their usual corner, and Air Raid had sort of sometimes found himself joining in with their conversations lately. Cliffjumper could be an aft and Brawn needed his processor checked and Huffer had spent the last six months complaining constantly about his bearings under the strain of constant construction work... but actually, when you got right down to it, they were okay people. A lot of Autobots were, Air Raid had been finding recently. Somehow the Aerialbots had stopped being outsiders; he didn't know exactly how or when, but the resentment he had felt towards the other Autobots had become a thing of the past.

As he trailed after the rest of the group, Air Raid thought that maybe they had Skyfire to thank for that too.

The rooms Kup showed them to had once been accommodation for travellers staying at the spaceport. By the standards of their time they were neither spacious nor luxurious, but to the Aerialbots they seemed both. Skyfire hung back in the corridor as they opened each door in turn and exclaimed over the fact that there was one room for each of them, and that the big windows, though made hazy by protective forcefields in case of Decepticon attack, gave them a view of more stars and sky than any of them had back on the Ark, or in the rudimentary barracks on the site of what would be Autobot City.

Skyfire had never been here even in passing, for which he was glad. Just flying over the Academy had been unsettling enough; he would have struggled to retain his equanimity if the base had been a place he knew. As it was, the obviously too-empty halls and the abandoned service stations weighed him down with a melancholy that seemed spark-deep. There was nothing left of the world he had been created upon, the world he had lived on and worked for, the world he had, he supposed, loved in an absent, taking-for-granted sort of way as he'd flown off to investigate as many others as he could find. For the other Autobots it had been a slow death, one they had grown accustomed to piece by piece - for him it had been a brutal awakening into an unthinkable reality.

"Skyfire?" Silverbolt appeared in the doorway, laughing, and held out his hand. "You should come and see this."

Skyfire took it, and the warm rush of Silverbolt's field hit his even as Silverbolt's fingers curled around his own. Silverbolt drew him into the room but didn't immediately step back, so that Skyfire had to brush past him, mingling fields for a moment almost head to toe. Silverbolt had known he was brooding. If he stopped to think about it, Skyfire was a little scared of Silverbolt's growing ability to read him like a datapad - but he tried not to stop to think about it too often. Or about the way his systems were racing from such a brief contact that he was afraid ther other Aerialbots would hear them.

The other Aerialbots were too preoccupied for anything of the sort. When Silverbolt had dragged him over to the small bathroom, Skyfire saw the issue at once. These rooms had their own wash cubicles built in, only large enough for one mech (and not one of Skyfire's build - even Silverbolt would struggle to fit). But the Aerialbots were used to bathing together and helping each other scrub hard-to-reach patches of wing. Currently, Fireflight and Air Raid were wedged into the small space - possibly permanently - and all four of them were arguing about whose fault it was. Skyfire had to stifle a smile.

Silverbolt let go of Skyfire's hand, reached out to deftly grab Air Raid by the left arm, and with a quick twist and pull sent his brother sprawling out of the cubicle and onto the tiled floor.

"Ow! Hey!"

"I think we've established that these aren't for sharing," Silverbolt said, barely contained amusement in his voice as Air Raid glowered at him. "I'm sure we'll manage."

"But how am I going to get between my wings?" demanded Fireflight, who was still in the cubicle. He cast a forlorn look over his shoulder. "I can't reach back there in root mode and if I transform I won't have arms."

Skyfire edged past Silverbolt and the others, reached into the cubicle, and pressed a switch on the large, flat-to-the-wall blank panel that he guessed Fireflight hadn't even glanced at. The panel slid back with a beep, and the standard array of cleaning equipment unfolded itself. Fireflight jumped backwards with a startled "Eep!", tripped on the edge of the cubicle, and fell headlong on top of Air Raid.

"OW! Okay, that's it, quit it!"

"There should be some pre-programmed settings," Skyfire explained, watching as Air Raid and Fireflight tussled half-heartedly and then sat up. "Most of them are for ground vehicles, but you can programme them for custom jobs. I'll show you how, if I haven't forgotten after all this time with the Ark's excuse for washracks..."

"Do they all have these?" Silverbolt backed out of the bathroom and disappeared into the corridor. Skydive jumped into the wash cubicle to have a look at the cleaning tools.

Skyfire started to go through the functions, but quickly realised that none of them were paying attention - they were in exploration mode, too busy looking and touching and talking to learn by lecture. He backed out of the bathroom, smiling, and went to find Silverbolt.

Silverbolt was in his own room, bent over examining the energon dispenser on the storage unit. He glanced up as Skyfire came in, with a rueful smile that made Skyfire's spark pulse unexpectedly hard.

"I can't figure out what all of this is for," he said, straightening up and gesturing at the bulk of the machine. "The nozzles are obvious enough, but the rest of it..."

"Is it working?" Skyfire asked thoughtlessly, before his processor caught up with his vocaliser. "Oh, of course not, too difficult to enforce rationing."

"I don't think it's worked for a long time anyway. There's dust in all the cracks."

Skyfire crossed the room to look at the dispenser. Silverbolt moved to let him see, but stayed standing close enough that their fields mingled as Skyfire arrived at his side. It was as easy and familiar as that smile, and Skyfire felt the same ripple of electricity under his plating. For a moment he forgot what he'd come over here to do, pausing instead to look down at Silverbolt, captivated by the intent way he was studying the dispenser. He was leaning against the storage unit quite casually, at ease in these unfamiliar surroundings, and it occurred to Skyfire all at once how much Silverbolt had changed in the time they'd known each other. He was more sure of himself, more quietly confident, more comfortable in his own body.

Silverbolt glanced up questioningly and Skyfire tried to remember what he'd been going to say. Oh, the dispenser. Right. He tore his optics from Silverbolt and leaned down to have a look at the workings.

"It's a combination model," he said after a moment. "It can provide liquid and solid energon, and even put together some basic recipes, if I'm right..."

"Recipes?" Silverbolt sounded incredulous. "For what, high grade?"

"No, no, they wouldn't pump high grade into a cheap hotel room like this. Recipes for basic energon."

Skyfire caught Silverbolt's bewildered expression, and had one of those moments when the great gulf of lost vorns seemed to yawn beneath him. Sometimes recently he forgot just how young Silverbolt was - too young to have ever known the world Skyfire had inhabited for most of his life. It crashed in on him now, along with a yearning grief that he couldn't take Silverbolt back there and show him how Cybertron should be. He shook it away, aware of Silverbolt watching him and of how easily he seemed to read Skyfire's field these days.

"We didn't always just refuel ourselves like machines, you know," he said. He found the catches on the cover of the dispenser, stiff with age, and worked them loose. The insides were, indeed, packed with dust. Even before the shutdown, this sort of device had become a luxury. "What we drink in the Ark - it's the most basic, pared-down form of energon there is. Just energy, packed as densely as possible so we don't waste a joule of it. It's horrible tasteless stuff, actually - I still don't think I'm used to it."

"Is it supposed to taste of something?"

"Yes! Of course it is. You don't think the humans have a monopoly on the idea of cuisine, do you? Energon is supposed to come in hundreds of forms - liquid and solid, pumped in direct if you were in the middle of a big city like this, packed up and stored if you lived further out... You could eat it like that, of course, but there are so many ways to process it further - I used to have a unit like this, bigger, and it wasn't plumbed into a direct line, but you'd just put in the right amounts of various kinds of energon and it would produce a proper meal..."

As he talked, Skyfire was taking the unit apart - almost unconsciously - and Silverbolt was watching him work. Skyfire was surprised to catch a surge of emotion from Silverbolt's field that almost exactly mirrored his own feelings just a few moments ago: grief and loss, a deep-rooted sadness.

"I didn't know that," Silverbolt said quietly. "I had no idea. I... almost wish you hadn't told me."

Skyfire's hands were deep in the guts of the machine, but he disentangled one and reached out. He'd intended to put his hand on Silverbolt's shoulder, but Silverbolt intercepted it mid-gesture and took it in both of his. When he twined their fingers together, Skyfire had to repress a shiver.

"Do you think it will ever really go back to how it was?" Silverbolt asked, staring down at their hands, an unusual bleakness leeching out of his field into Skyfire's.

"Not exactly how it was," Skyfire said. He freed his other hand from the machine and laid it on top of Silverbolt's. "We'll have to make something new, I think. But this world - our world - has existed for millions of years. Our history, our culture goes back further than the entire evolution of life on Earth. This exile of ours is only a tiny footnote in the grand scheme of things - don't let yourself think it's all there is left."

"All the talk of building Autobot City and slowly re-energising the planet... it seems so much more impossible when we're here, and there's a whole world dead around us."

"It isn't dead. Just sleeping."

Silverbolt looked up at him, and Skyfire could feel the sadness ebbing out of his field as a smile touched his face. In the odd, looping feedback of field contact, he knew that Silverbolt knew that Skyfire had trouble believing it himself sometimes - but that somewhere deep in his spark he did. And he believed it more when he was with Silverbolt - the same way it was easier to believe that he could find his place with the Autobots, and that he might one day stop grieving for what he had lost.

He brought his hand up to touch Silverbolt's face, wanting somehow to convey just how much that meant and searching fruitlessly for the words... but speech wasn't necessary, not with fields entwined, not when he'd let Silverbolt in so far that he couldn't quite tell where each of them began and ended. Silverbolt's optics were bright with his own surge of emotion, lapping into Skyfire's field like two rivers mingling, and the smile was slowly slipping to be replaced by something inviting and eager. Skyfire's spark skipped and surged in response.

There was a crash, and a babble of shouting from the next room over. They broke apart automatically, already halfway to the door by the time Fireflight, dripping wet, appeared in the corridor outside.

"Um. I think Skydive broke it? Or maybe it's gone crazy? Only, it's got Air Raid by the intakes and Slingshot's upside down and there's water going everywhere and--"

He liked Silverbolt's brothers - more than liked them, cared for them with an unexpected and deep affection - but just for a moment, Skyfire wished the lot of them were safely locked up in a box somewhere. Preferably out of shouting distance.

Then he sighed, and laughed at Fireflight's woebegone expression, and followed Silverbolt back into the shower cubicle to spend an hour disentangling two thoroughly affronted Aerialbots and disarming the cubicle's auto-cleaner before it accidentally won the war for the Decepticons.

By the time Ultra Magnus commed Silverbolt for a briefing, the Aerialbots had been over half the facility and come back around to the rec room, chattering and laughing in a way that lifted Silverbolt's spark. He'd been so overwhelmed by the sepulchral atmosphere of Cybertron that he'd started to wonder if it had been a good idea to come here at all. But his brothers, less sensitive - though not insensitive - to the empty world around them were showing all the signs of enjoying the break from surroundings that had become tedious and confining.

No, he didn't regret taking Optimus Prime up on the suggestion when it was made - not on his brothers' account, at least. But he wondered now if he shouldn't have asked for Skyfire to come with them. It had seemed perfectly natural at the time, and Skyfire had agreed readily enough, but Silverbolt could see the effect the place was having on him. To him, and his brothers, Cybertron might be unsettling and a little sad, but to Skyfire it was like an open wound.

In the rec room they encountered a fast-talking mech by the name of Blurr, who immediately and unselfconsciously befriended them and offered a tour of Iacon whenever they were on downtime. Silverbolt relaxed a bit more: he'd been worried about the attitudes of the 'bots up here, whom Prowl had warned were often still stasis-shocked and slow to adjust, but Blurr was friendly and open, if occasionally incoherent.

So when his comm beeped, Silverbolt felt comfortable telling Ultra Magnus he'd meet him in his office, and then instructing his brothers to stay where they were.

"No tours just yet," he warned - and was amused by the similarity of the crestfallen expressions on both Fireflight's and Blurr's faces. "We need recharge. If I'm not back in an hour or so, just head to our accommodation. Skyfire..." He hesitated, not really wanting to wrench Skyfire away from the conversation that had been bringing undisguised amusement into his face for the last half hour - but from what Ultra Magnus had said earlier, he might need Skyfire's advice. "Would you mind coming with me?"

"Of course not." Skyfire finished the last of his energon and got to his feet.

"Then the rest of you stay out of trouble," said Silverbolt. He mentally included Blurr in that statement.

Ultra Magnus's office was marked on the map of the base that Silverbolt had pre-loaded on his datapad. They still managed to take a wrong turn somewhere. Fortunately, it was quickly corrected, and when they arrived, Silverbolt's apology was met by a dismissive hand wave from Ultra Magnus.

"To be quite honest I consider myself lucky when my summons are answered within half a shift most days," he said. "You're refreshingly prompt. Have a seat."

When they were both settled, Ultra Magnus brought up a holographic display of Cybertron. With a few jabs of his fingertip into the floating sphere, he highlighted Iacon in red, then Kaon, the current Decepticon stronghold, in purple.

"As I said earlier, it's not an attack, or even a scouting mission," he said. "We're trying not to stir up too much trouble just now - as I'm sure you know."

Silverbolt nodded.

"One of my better scouts has come back with some energy readings that look like they're worth checking out." Ultra Magnus's blunt finger jabbed into the hologram again, this time marking a spot some distance from both Iacon and Kaon. "Our best guess is that it might be a forgotten stockpile of energon..."

"Is that Vos?" asked Skyfire, staring intently at the globe.

"Yes. Do you know it?"

"Not well. Might I see the energy readings?"

Ultra Magnus picked up a datapad and passed it over. Skyfire studied the screen for some minutes, while Ultra Magnus, Silverbolt noted, studied him. Perhaps he was not quite sure what to make of Skyfire, bigger even than he was and yet so softly spoken - or had he heard something of Skyfire's past, and was he wondering about that? Silverbolt suppressed a rush of fierce protectiveness that would have had him glaring at Ultra Magnus. This was no time to get distracted.

"I'm not sure about a stockpile," Skyfire said at length. "The wavelengths aren't quite right - and there's something about the spectrometry that bothers me. But there's definitely power there, and it's not residual, either."

"Could it be something the Decepticons are working on?" asked Silverbolt.

"Blurr said there were no signs of recent activity - or even older activity, to be frank." Ultra Magnus dismissed the globe of Cybertron and pulled up a handful of pictures that showed darkened buildings and ruined infrastructure. "The whole place seemed completely abandoned, but he was getting the readings, so he made a note and reported it after he'd finished his run. We're rather short on scientists so you'll have to forgive our lack of finesse."

"Oh, I don't think there's much more anyone could surmise on this evidence," Skyfire said - rather graciously, Silverbolt thought, since he and the other scientists were generally able to divine myriads of information from the most basic readings. "There's certainly something there producing or consuming energy in a tangible form. It could be liquid energon. I'd guess not, but I'd say it was worth looking into."

"I'm glad you agree." Ultra Magnus's tone was somewhat wry, but there was nothing antagonistic about the comment. "What I need you to do, Silverbolt, is take your team out there and look into it. If it is energon, bring back as much as you can. I'm afraid that if we make a move on it we'll give away the position to the Decepticons, so I want this to be a single in and out job."

Silverbolt frowned thoughtfully. "Do you have maps of the immediate area?"

A few quick keystrokes and Ultra Magnus had them up on the projector. Silverbolt shuffled forward and - glancing first at Ultra Magnus for permission - explored the hologram by zooming in and out and spinning it with his fingers.

"I'm not sure my whole team would be an asset here," he said slowly. "All five of us - six, with Skyfire - are likely to attract attention."

"It's a risk we take with every foray out of Iacon," Ultra Magnus pointed out. "How many would you consider a reasonable number?"

Silverbolt debated within himself. He'd known the answer as soon as he'd taken a good look at the projections, but he found that for almost the first time since Optimus had made him Air Commander, he was questioning his own motives.

"I think just myself and Skyfire," he said finally. He glanced over at Skyfire as he spoke, looking for some sort of reassurance, and got it when Skyfire nodded as if he'd already come to that conclusion himself. More confidently, Silverbolt went on, "If we do find energon we'll need to be able to bring it back, which makes Skyfire the best choice for transport, as well as--" He glanced over again. "How well do you know Vos?"

"I've been there a few times," Skyfire said. There was something about his voice that raised warning flags in Silverbolt's processor - but this was a briefing, not a private conversation, so he didn't interrupt, and Skyfire went on, "I've got a fair memory of the central district and I know the flight path from here."

"Right." Silverbolt returned his attention to Ultra Magnus. "Between the two of us we should be able to handle any Decepticon interference, and we can both fly faster than any of my gestalt so we have a better chance of getting away. If worst came to worst, Skyfire could carry me and head spaceward, but the more of us there are the less feasible that is."

"Hmm." Ultra Magnus had pulled up the maps again. "I see your point. I usually send Blurr out without escort for the same reason - he stands a better chance of getting away from any attack than staying to fight. And I certainly don't intend to have you try and hold territory, so large numbers are unnecessary. Will you be ready to move out at the third point of the second shift?"

Silverbolt scrambled to work that out - Cybertronian time was almost always marked relative to the shift sequence, but on board the Ark they'd gotten into the habit of using the humans' twenty-four hour clock.

His comm blipped. :About six hours from now,: Skyfire sent, then closed the connection.

"That will be fine," Silverbolt told Ultra Magnus, flashing a grateful look at Skyfire. "Can I get a download of the maps?"

Ultra Magnus pulled a couple of datapads off his desk and held them out to Silverbolt. "I appreciate your help in this," he said. "Let's hope it's worth our time."

Nearly seven hours later, they were coming in from the north towards Vos, and Silverbolt was reassured that he'd made the right decision. He'd been afraid that his own desire to be alone with Skyfire, coupled with a reluctance to deprive his wingmates of their vacation time, had been exerting unfair influence on his choice. But the place was a maze and he had immediate visions of losing Fireflight somewhere down there - or of Air Raid or Slingshot deciding that one of those deadly, crumbling canyons was just the spot for a race. It was quiet enough and he was confident that the two of them could handle anything that came up.

Which wasn't to say that he wasn't quietly enjoying flying like this with Skyfire on his wing. Silverbolt had always been a bit twitchy about having anyone too close in his slipsteam when he was in the air, even - or especially - his brothers, who moved too fast and too erratically and who, despite their gestalt bond, he was constantly terrified were going to clip him and send him spiralling into a dive. Skyfire was naturally steadier, and although he could move fast and pull of startling manoeuvres when pushed, for the most part he represented a solid, dependable presence in the air.

The planet was silent beneath them. Silverbolt was careful not to look down into any of the yawning chasms that plunged hundreds of metres below the surface, concentrating instead on scanning for nearby Decepticons. Everything was quiet as they reached the outskirts of the city.

Not that Silverbolt would have recognised them as such. All of Cybertron was one great mass of buildings: the subdivisions might be called cities but they were really just nigh-indistinguishable sections of the world-city that filled the whole planet. His only guide was when Skyfire commed him.

:We're crossing Vos's borders now.:

:Which way was it aligned?:

:Decepticon, and willingly so, as far as I understand it. It doesn't surprise me - Vos was always a mercenary sort of place. They taught the law of opportunism from the moment a 'bot was sparked.:

He didn't sound bitter, but he didn't have to - their fields were brushing and Silverbolt knew him too well.

:Did you... were you sparked there?:

:Me?: Skyfire sounded surprised. :No, not me.: He hesitated, and Silverbolt, guessing the reason, didn't entirely expect him to continue. He was surprised and gratified when Skyfire finally said, :Starscream was, though. I always thought it explained a lot about him. But... not all of it.:

Silverbolt didn't push, knowing that Skyfire would keep talking if he wanted to - and he evidently didn't, so they settled back into silence.

Silverbolt had spent long enough studying the plans before recharging that he was able to recognise the outskirts of the area they were heading for. He signalled Skyfire and they descended together, easily slipping in and out of each other's airspace.

Sky-high towers rose up around them as they circled a large, flat plaza that was itself raised high above what you might call Cybertron's surface. Most were heavily damaged, but the plaza itself was surprisingly intact. Whatever part Vos had played in the war, it had not been a pacifist one. The towers were not residential, but they'd served a number of roles, according to the notes in Silverbolt's briefing - administrative at one time, then a command centre for the leading powers of Vos, and finally a war base, though it was unclear if they had ever been armed.

Silverbolt was a little nervous that the plaza would collapse beneath them - he imagined its supporting pillars crumbled away beneath the surface - but Skyfire drew ahead as they came in for a final approach and landed easily enough. He transformed as Silverbolt came to a stop next to him.

"That one ahead?" he asked, when Silverbolt had also returned to root mode.

Silverbolt eyed the building and nodded. The energy source Blurr had picked up was somewhere below them, many storeys down in the three-dimensional labyrinth that was Cybertron. They wouldn't be able to fly once they got into the tangle of metal that had once been wide streets and impressive facades: too much damage, Ultra Magnus had said. The only way to reach their goal was to climb down through the most intact of the nearby buildings and find a way through whatever was left of the infrastructure.

"Did you pick anything up on your long-range scanners?" Silverbolt asked, beginning to walk towards their target building.

"No. I don't think we were detected." Skyfire frowned as he caught up to Silverbolt, glancing around with a hint of uneasiness. "Though there was something... like seeing movement out of the corner of my optics, only on the scanners. When I tried to focus in on it, I couldn't find it again. It could have been a glitch..."

"We'd better proceed as if it wasn't." Silverbolt slipped his gun out of subspace, though he held it loosely for now. "Keep scanning."

"Okay."

The doors of the tower block loomed ahead of them, long since deprived of power and jammed open. Silverbolt marvelled at their size. They were easily big enough to accommodate Skyfire, and even Omega Supreme would only have had to stoop a little. The inside of the building was dark compared to the starlit plaza.

Skyfire brought a powerful lantern out of his subspace and, keeping a step behind Silverbolt so as not to blind him, turned it on. Silverbolt swept his gaze over the ruins of the foyer within, over broken chairs and smashed screens, and carefully proceeded forward.

"I suppose the Autobots did this, then," he said, disquieted by the notion. Somehow he imagined the Autobots' part in the war as purely defensive - but of course they must have led attacks on Decepticon-allied cities.

"No, this was Decepticon work," Skyfire replied. When Silverbolt threw a questioning glance over his shoulder, Skyfire went on, "I've made some study of the weapons in use at the time. This damage is all done by cluster-shock bombs and grenades. The Autobots didn't start using those until after Vos fell. The records are sketchy on what actually happened - but I would guess that perhaps the city's leadership might have tried to play their own game against the Decepticons."

"So they were destroyed." Silverbolt pushed aside a pile of debris and opened a door that he hoped would lead to the stairs. He wasn't disappointed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. But this damage... it seems so..."

"Deliberate? Excessive? I was thinking the same thing." Skyfire had closed the gap behind them so that his light was always illuminating the next section of the stairway, and Silverbolt could feel the brush of his field, conveying his distaste - and a thin thread of disquiet, like there was something else bothering him. "They came here with the intention that it would never be rebuilt, I think. I'm amazed these stairs are still in one piece."

"Hold that thought." Silverbolt threw out a hand to stop Skyfire, then edged forward to examine the next turn. "This doesn't look good."

The stairs were smashed ahead of them, a deep chasm that went down storey after storey. Peering into it made Silverbolt feel dizzy. He drew back hurriedly.

"When did we last pass an exit?"

"Two flights up."

"We'd better see what's on the other side of that, then."

The answer was a long, dark corridor with no immediate side turnings. Silverbolt edged through the doorway to try to get a sense of what lay further ahead, while Skyfire paused to look at the door itself.

"Wait a klik," he said, and Silverbolt halted at once. "Do these mean anything to you?"

Silverbolt retraced his steps to where Skyfire was studying a complicated pattern of glyphs on the door lintel. It wasn't simple Cybertronian - the characters were bigger and seemed more symbolic.

"Should they?"

"That one in the middle - " Skyfire brushed it with his finger, a circle intersected by two lines at odd angles. "In my time it was the warning sign for extreme magnetic fields. The others I don't recognise, but I'm guessing they are supposed to mark out similar hazards. Was there anything in that briefing?"

Silverbolt shook his head, but strangely, something was stirring in the very back of his processor. It was like the ingrained knowledge he'd had since he was sparked - information that had come encoded into his personality when he'd awakened.

"Those two at the start mean 'interdiction zone'," he said, and was startled by his own voice. "An area that must not be entered by anyone without a full set of clearances - and sometimes that meant no-one at all. The penalty was shoot-on-sight." He shook his head, unsettled. "I'm not sure how I know that."

"At a guess? You would have needed to, once, if you were flying through war zones." Skyfire briefly laid a hand on his shoulder. "Vector Sigma does not retain detailed personal memories, as I understand it, but anything you considered vital to your survival, on a spark level, may well have survived."

They moved on in silence, side by side by unspoken agreement. The corridor was wide and relatively clear of debris, and the only door they passed was an elevator access now choked with rubble. There had been only one way into this place, whatever it was. Skyfire had a handheld scanner out, tuned specifically to the readings Blurr had picked up, and was checking it periodically.

"We may have been lucky," he said. "We're definitely heading for the source, although it's still some levels down."

"If it's in this section, then it's part of whatever those warnings were about." Silverbolt cast a glance over his shoulder, made more nervous than he cared to admit by the shadows that followed their pool of light. "I'm finding it less and less likely that we're going to find stockpiled energon."

"Should we turn back?"

Silverbolt paused and looked at Skyfire for a long few seconds, thinking about that undercurrent in his field. "What do you think?"

"I'm... not sure." Skyfire also cast a glance over his shoulder. "Honestly, this place unnerves me. I'd guess it was either a weapons lab or a manufacturing facility of some kind - nothing good. But if there's power here, it may be something we can use."

"Okay. In that case, let's press on until we can figure out what's generating those readings. I'd like to be sure we can get out if we need to, though."

"By my calculations we're coming up on what they used to call the Rust Pit - it's a big shaft that goes right down towards the core of the planet. If this place has any access to that, I can get us out in a pinch."

Silverbolt nodded and began to move on down the corridor again. It was almost five minutes later that they saw a junction up ahead. There was a recess in the wall opposite their approach, and Silverbolt didn't need to ask Skyfire's opinion on its purpose. He knew a guard station when he saw one.

"No signs," Skyfire muttered as they stopped and looked both ways at the junction. "If you were supposed to be here, you were supposed to know where to go, presumably."

"They both look the same to me."

"The right hand one has a downward access of some sort a few hundred metres further on." Skyfire tilted his head the way he did when using one of his more specialised sensor arrays. Silverbolt suppressed a smile; he probably had no idea of how endearing it was. "Shall we try it?"

"Lead the way."

The 'downward access' was another elevator shaft, this one echoingly empty, but there was a stairwell slightly further on. They made their way down, Skyfire checking his scanner constantly and Silverbolt keeping a close optic both on the stairs below them and how far they'd come. He noticed that they didn't pass any other exits from the stairwell.

"We're getting close," Skyfire said, just as Silverbolt finally spotted a door up ahead.

He expected another corridor when they shouldered open the long-jammed double doors. Instead, a wide open space stretched ahead of them, multiple storeys tall and several times wider than the plaza above had been. Silverbolt stopped short in sheer surprise - and a second later was glad of it. He threw himself back into the doorway, stopping Skyfire coming out with the lantern, and signalled to him to douse the light.

The darkness before them was not absolute. Somewhere around what Silverbolt guessed might be the centre of the immense space was a light. It moved back and forth, clearly carried by a mech, and its small circle of illumination gave the impression of a massive column that rose from floor to ceiling.

Skyfire opened a very tight band channel. :They can't have heard us open the door or they'd have doused the light.:

:How many, do you think?:

:I don't dare scan and I can't see from here. There's only one light source.:

:There can't be any perimeter guards or we'd have been spotted already.: Silverbolt edged back into the room and turned his optics up to their highest gain. All he saw was a blur of movement that he thought was just one figure. :There's no point in working our way around the edge, if the room's circular we'll never get any closer. We can either stay here and ambush them when they come back, or try and get over there without being heard.:

:There's no guarantee they came in this way.: Skyfire had moved into the doorway behind Silverbolt; his presence was reassuring as Silverbolt's processor raced. :And neither of us is particularly inconspicuous.:

The light had stopped moving around, as if it had been placed on a flat surface. Faint sounds came from the centre of the room: metal on metal and an under-the-breath mutter that could have been a swear word.

:We'll have to take the risk,: Silverbolt decided. :Whatever's giving off that power signature, I don't want it in Decepticon hands.:

:As to that, I have a partial answer,: Skyfire said. :This is a power station and it's what's giving off the readings. What I don't understand is where it's getting fuel from. It can't have been running since the planet went into stasis; someone must have reactivated it recently.:

:Someone like whoever is over there?:

:At a guess.: Skyfire hesitated. Then he went on, :Silverbolt, there are a limited number of Decepticons with the skill to meddle with something like this.:

:Who?:

:Shockwave. Soundwave. And Starscream.:

Silverbolt grimaced, glad the darkness hid his expression. :Which would you say is the most likely to be over there right now?:

Another pause.

:Starscream,: Skyfire said finally. :Shockwave would be unlikely to act alone and Soundwave would have his cassettes helping - there'd be more noise.:

:Great.: Silverbolt made up his mind. :We'd better try and find out what he's up to. You go around to the left and I'll come straight up behind him. If we can pin him down we can probably get him to tell us what he's trying to do, if for no other reason than to show off.:

:That is entirely true.:

Silverbolt began to make his way forward without pausing to look too deeply into Skyfire's field. He didn't really want to know how Skyfire felt about launching this sneak attack. Behind him, he barely heard Skyfire move off to the left as commanded. That was reassuring. And hopefully Starscream was too preoccupied to hear the occasional small sound of rubble shifting under Silverbolt's feet...

It almost worked. Silverbolt was close enough to be sure there was only one person there, and close enough to think about a rush to grab him - when all at once, there was a click, and light flared from the column in front of him, so bright that he staggered back, arm flung up to shield his optics.

He recovered in a second, but the movement and any small noise he might have made were enough to give him away. Starscream - yes, Skyfire had been right, and somehow Silverbolt couldn't help thinking that of course it was Starscream, who else was going to be poking around in the dark in an abandoned power station where he had no right to be? - whipped around to face him, genuine shock on his face, replaced a moment later by hatred. His null rays were up and levelled at Silverbolt even as Silverbolt raised his own weapon purposefully.

"What are you doing sneaking around here?" demanded Starscream, with such genuine outrage in his voice that Silverbolt was almost amused.

"I was about to ask you the same question." He refused to let himself glance sideways. He couldn't see Skyfire in his peripheral vision, which might mean he'd had a chance to get to cover as the lights went up. "Nice place you have here."

Now that he'd adjusted to the light, he realised it wasn't that bright after all - just the effect of sudden illumination on optics turned to high gain. It was in the form of strips of lights running up the central pillar, pulsing slowly in time to some hidden beat. All around the base of the pillar were consoles built into a ring; it had been on one of these that Starscream had been working. Trailing wires and a crate of spare parts gave testament that he had either been here some time, or made a previous visit.

"Where are the rest of them?" Starscream demanded, glancing quickly to the left and right, but not taking his glare off Silverbolt long enough to give an advantage.

This time Silverbolt did let his optics move, as if involuntarily - to the other side of the console unit. At the same time, he started to say, "You'll see them when you see them--"

Starscream whipped around, shooting blindly across the console at the empty darkness. Silverbolt got off a shot of his own, aimed squarely between Starscream's wings in the hopes of disabling him - but Starscream was quick on his feet and had twisted aside even as he turned.

It didn't save him from Skyfire's two precise shots that left his null rays sparking and dragged a howl of pain and outrage from his vocaliser.

Starscream kept moving, throwing himself bodily across the console as Silverbolt dived forward to grab him. Skyfire moved swiftly around the console so that he was still flanking Starscream, and then there was a pause as the three of them stared at each other - or rather, as Silverbolt kept a close eye on Starscream while Starscream turned a look of absolute disgust on Skyfire.

"You as well? Don't you think it's beneath you, crawling around in the ruins on your leash?"

"It doesn't seem to be beneath you," Skyfire commented. "Not that I would use that as any particular benchmark."

"At least I'm here on my own initiative," Starscream snapped. He turned a malicious look on Silverbolt. "Do you get a kick out of demeaning him with escort duty? Why," and there was a deadly, mocking sweetness in his voice now, "I hardly see you two in the sky apart these days."

Silverbolt wanted to snap back, It's called friendship, ever heard of it? but muted his vocaliser at the last second. Starscream was notorious for getting a rise out of people. Silverbolt refused to give him the satisfaction.

"What iniative would that be, exactly?" Skyfire asked, ignoring the jab with apparent ease. "You can't be expecting to get power out of this heap of scrap."

Starscream whipped around to face him, absolutely seething at the patronising note that had been in his words - and then stopped, suddenly shrewd.

"You don't know what it is," he said, mockery and triumph mingled in the words. "And I'm not going to tell you."

"I'm sure I can figure it out."

"I don't think so. You weren't there."

It was the first shot that hit home, as far as Silverbolt could tell - and he only could tell because he knew Skyfire well enough to catch the brief tightening of his fingers on his gun. His expression gave nothing away - but with a sinking sensation in his spark, Silverbolt realised that Starscream wasn't going by Skyfire's expression either. He knew Skyfire - maybe he knew him as well as Silverbolt did.

Maybe he knew him better.

"That's enough," Silverbolt said, sharper than he'd meant to, and Starscream's optics snapped to him, bright and cruel. "You have two choices: you can tell us what you know about this thing here, or we can take you back as a prisoner and you can tell us in Iacon."

"Or I can tell you nothing and you'll do... what?" Starscream laughed openly at them. "Torture me? I know you don't have it in you, Skyfire. This one..." He gave Silverbolt a long, assessing look that made Silverbolt want to hit him. "... Maybe with a few vorns of proper education, but I'd say he doesn't have the spark for it either."

"Hmm. You have a point," Silverbolt said casually. He deliberately eased off his stance - though he didn't lower his gun - and looked over at Skyfire. He was pleased that Skyfire kept his optics on Starscream. "It can't be that complicated if a Seeker can make it work, so it'll save time if we just send him back to Iacon for bargaining with and you get on with--"

"What would you know?" screeched Starscream. He was as enraged as Silverbolt had hoped, all his attention seized by the insult. "You're no scientist! You're not even a vorn old! You wouldn't know a radron catalyst if it hit you in the faceplates, let alone what it takes to repair one! How dare you--"

"A radron-- Starscream, that's ridiculous." Despite the apparently casual dismissal, Silverbolt recognised the frown on Skyfire's face as the result of some quick, hard thinking. "You couldn't run one of those in the middle of Cybertron, even if they weren't theoretical at best--"

"Theoretical when you were at the Academy!" snarled Starscream. If he realised he'd been goaded into giving more away, he didn't show it - and he seemed to fall far more easily into the argument with Skyfire than made Silverbolt entirely comfortable. "You're hopelessly out of date. They built the first prototypes before the war broke out."

"If they built them here, I can't imagine they saw much success."

"Ah, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" Strangely, Starscream's fury seemed to have ebbed, or at least been pushed aside, as he was drawn into what almost passed for a conversation. "The prototypes worked but by the time we'd proved it--"

"We?"

"I told you I could make it work."

"So you worked in this place?"

"No! The prototypes were out past the old red giant in the secondary system - that one we orbited for a few hundred vorns. Just as we proved the concept, they cut off our fuel allowance and we couldn't get back out there to do any more work."

"The Academy?"

"Ha!" Starscream laughed darkly. "Oh, the Academy was long past the point of no return by then. I moved on. And when my employers at the time cut my allowance, I moved on again."

He stared musingly at the console, reaching out to touch it; Silverbolt tensed, but Starscream didn't appear to be about to press any buttons. He just ran a fingertip down the metal as though assessing it.

"It wasn't until after I'd joined the Decepticons that I started hearing rumours someone had made it work here. And then Megatron--" More than the habitual sneer there - something like real disgust. "--had the place bombed into oblivion."

"Why would Megatron destroy a power source?" Silverbolt wondered aloud.

"Because he's an idiot, that's why," snapped Starscream.

"Or he knew something you didn't," said Silverbolt - and realised too late that he'd broken the spell. Starscream would not respond to him as to Skyfire, falling back into old habits of conversation. The glare now coming his way told him that clearly enough.

"Are you doing to shoot me?" Starscream demanded, almost petulantly. "Because if you're not--"

He moved as he spoke, ducking around the console to get out of Skyfire's line of fire even as he grabbed some sort of switch and yanked it hard. All at once the lights went out of the power core. Silverbolt saw the flash of a shot from Skyfire's direction, but it clearly hit nothing, just as his own belated volley of laser fire went arcing into the darkness.

He'd been caught by surprise - and cursed himself for it - but he was too well-trained not to react. Silverbolt jumped backwards and to one side, knowing that his shots had given away his location. A second later he heard the distinctive sound of Starscream's null rays - at least one had not been fully disabled by Skyfire's earlier shots, then - and felt a splash of reflected heat from the spot he'd been standing on.

Thinking quickly, Silverbolt kept moving, following the console around until he was pretty sure the power core was between him and Starscream. He didn't know where Skyfire was. They might run right into each other, or he might have held his ground...

His foot caught on a chunk of rubble. He didn't trip - managed to grab the console at the last second - but it made an unmistakeable noise, and Starscream reacted immediately. Null ray fire hummed through the air around Silverbolt, who ducked down as best he could behind the console - only to hear a disconcerting, loud electronic whine above his head. The core flights flickered on again for a second, strobing the surrounding area with bursts of disconcerting brilliance, too bright and too brief to see anything.

"Starscream, stop shooting!" Skyfire yelled, and Silverbolt's spark went cold at both the panic in his voice, and the fact that the null rays immediately turned his way. "You've hit the core--"

The whine built up louder and Silverbolt saw lightning-like tendrils of violet energy crackle up its length. A flash of light gave him a glimpse of Starscream, and he fired off a couple of shots, but all he got for his efforts was another dose of the null rays. This time at least one hit home; Silverbolt felt the circuits in his right wing go abruptly numb. The noise of the core was deafening now.

Skyfire all but crashed into him, only a split-second recognition of his field preventing Silverbolt from opening fire. He grabbed Silverbolt bodily and shouted in his audio receptor, "Run!"

They got about five steps before the core overloaded. It flared painfully bright behind them, casting crazy shadows on the distant walls, and then there was an explosion of energy that shoved them both forward like a huge hand against their backs. The walls shook and pieces of rubble crashed down from the ceiling, but there was no fire. The light dimmed and vanished, the whining screech was gone, and all at once there was only darkness and silence marred by the sound of pieces of metal falling, glass or plexiglass shards settling, and a series of creaks and groans from the building surrounding them.

Silverbolt had just cautiously raised his head - and just cautiously dared to think that it hadn't been so bad after all - when the floor collapsed beneath them.

Chapter Text

Consciousness seemed to return quickly, but Silverbolt's chronometer was unresponsive, so he had no idea if that were the truth. It was dark, so dark that he thought his optics had burned out until he turned them to their highest gain and was, just barely, able to see his hand in front of his face.

It had hurt lifting it. He hurt in several places, in fact, but none enough to be dangerous. His wings felt as though something heavy had landed on them, which was probably not far from the truth, going by the debris piled around and on top of him.

"Skyfire?"

There was no response. Silverbolt tried the comms. Nothing.

"Skyfire!" he called, with more urgency. Still nothing. A thread of panic wormed around in the back of his processor, but he squashed it with the practice of many battles.

His instinct was to push aside the debris on top of him and get free, but he resisted it. There was no telling whether this place was stable - sudden movement might cause more collapse. The first thing he needed was light. Fortunately, they'd both brought lanterns with them. It was tricky opening his subspace without moving too much, but Silverbolt managed to get hold of the device and switch it on.

It was only as he was momentarily blinded that he remembered Starscream. Pit, how could he have forgotten! He immediately doused the light, braced for attack - but the silence remained unbroken.

Well, he'd have to take a risk. Silverbolt turned the lantern back on.

Still no shots.

The debris on top of him was heavy, but not too much to move, and Silverbolt, feeling around carefully, established that there was some sort of floor beneath him, so he wasn't supported solely by detritus. Carefully, but as quickly as he could, he shifted the rubble aside and scrambled unsteadily to his feet.

His dazed systems were righting themselves now. His chronometer told him he'd been offline for about fifteen minutes. Silverbolt quickly turned in a circle, casting the lantern's light out around him to get a sense of where he was.

It was too wrecked to be sure, but he thought it had been a corridor. Fallen metal girders completely filled it to the south. The north end was choked with synthcrete and metal panels, but might be passable with some work. What he presumed were the walls of the corridor had buckled and burst in places, but he saw only more synthcrete and, occasionally, long-dead circuitry behind them. Silverbolt looked upward, expecting a high ceiling or the gap through which they had fallen, only to find a mass of metal jammed together not far above his head. A glance told him how precarious the whole arrangement was; a number of long metal beams had become wedged between the walls, and formed enough of a frame for the rest to catch on. Silverbolt shuddered and began to search with a growing sense of panic, keeping one optic on the ceiling for any signs of collapse. He tried his comms again, this time attempting to reach Iacon, but came up against a staticky barrier reminiscent of jamming.

His lantern caught on white paint, and he was at Skyfire's side before he consciously decided to move. The larger mech had fallen face down amid a twisted nest of girders, and for a few awful seconds Silverbolt thought one of them had impaled his torso. It was hard work turning Skyfire over onto his back, but doing so revealed that the girder in question had only scored along his side and under one wing. Silverbolt winced at the deep gash, but felt his systems race with relief at the same time. He settled Skyfire against him, careful not to do any further damage, and began to run as thorough a scan as he could.

Skyfire's face was badly scratched, deep enough across the cheek that Silverbolt was afraid he could see wiring, and his cockpit windows were shattered. He looked a mess, but the hasty scan didn't turn up anything life-threatening. His energy field was drawn in tight and almost undetectable, normal for an unconscious mech. Silverbolt tried pushing against it, at first gently and then harder, but to no avail.

"Come on, wake up," he muttered, brushing a thumb over Skyfire's helm reflexively. "Skyfire..."

That did get a response - but from some distance away, a sudden sliding of metal and a half-word, half-snarl in an all-too-recognisable voice. Silverbolt went for his gun and realised that he'd dropped it. Then he realised what weapons fire might do to the tons of debris above their heads. He froze in place. There was another clatter of metal, and a groan. Silverbolt thought he heard Starscream try to move, and fail. Then a small noise that might have been a cry of pain. Then nothing.

He didn't want to leave Skyfire, not for anything - but he was helpless to wake his friend, and he was terrified that Starscream would do something to bring the ceiling down on them. Finally, he decided to take the chance. He shone the lantern in the direction from which he'd heard the noises, and caught a glimpse of red and blue right on the edge of the clear space.

Taking one last look at Skyfire's still face, Silverbolt reluctantly disentangled himself and got to his feet.

As he scanned the rubble ahead of him to check he wasn't about to get caught up in anything, Silverbolt's lantern glinted off smooth black gunmetal half-buried in crumbled synthcrete. He thought for a moment it was his own weapon, but when he pulled it free from the pile, he saw it was Skyfire's. He wasn't sure he knew how to operate it, but then, in their current situation he wouldn't dare even if he did. And the important thing was that he was holding some sort of weapon. Starscream didn't have to know that he wasn't willing to use it, let alone that he might not know how.

A niggling doubt wondered if Starscream would know, if he were familiar enough with the gun and its operation to catch the slightest tell on Silverbolt's part, a switch not set or a power cell not charged. Silverbolt squashed the worry and picked up the gun, hefting it awkwardly. He hadn't quite realised how big it was, the same way he so often forgot just how tall Skyfire himself was. The gun looked the right size in Skyfire's hands; Silverbolt could barely rest it on his shoulder and get his fingers against the trigger.

He approached Starscream's position warily. The silence was bothering him; was the Seeker waiting for a chance to shoot him down?

Not so much, as it turned out. When Silverbolt edged around the pile of twisted metal that had been hiding Starscream from view, he saw that Starscream's optics were dim and his systems noticeably labouring. A good half of that same pile was pinning him down - literally, Silverbolt realised with an unpleasant jolt, seeing one sharp girder gone right through a wing. Starscream had not been as lucky as Skyfire. One of Starscream's hands was still loosely clasped around it. Silverbolt guessed that he'd tried to pull it out, only to overload his systems with damage warnings.

The red optics brightened sharply and Starscream's head jerked around when he spotted Silverbolt. He scrabbled for a moment with his free hand, trying to raise his arm to get his null ray in position. Silverbolt watched silently as he realised that the weapon had been torn from its mountings and was nowhere in sight.

"Go away," Starscream said after a moment, voice staticky with pain but underscored by his usual waspishness.

It was tempting, Silverbolt had to admit. Starscream wasn't going anywhere. It would be easy enough to go back to Skyfire, wait until he woke, and then they could deal with Starscream together.

And that would mean leaving Starscream with a girder the size of his arm through one wing, and who knew what damage beneath the rest of the mess pinning him. Leaving him there with full knowledge that the only people who could help him were choosing to ignore him. It was tempting, maybe, for a hated enemy, for Starscream who of all mechs deserved it...

But it would be torture, as surely as if Silverbolt had driven the spike through himself, and Starscream might have thought he was insulting them when he denounced them as incapable of it, but to Silverbolt that was a badge of honour. He sighed and moved in closer, lowering Skyfire's gun now that he was fairly sure (not completely sure, you never could be with Starscream) that he wasn't in imminent danger of attack.

"Here." He pulled a data chip out of subspace and tossed it at Starscream. It landed within easy reach of his hand, but the Decepticon didn't pick it up, instead eyeing it suspiciously. "It's a painkiller." He'd taken to carrying a couple around, just in case. "It won't help much, but it's something."

"Like I'm going to put Autobot code into my subsystems," Starscream muttered, but his attention had gone from Silverbolt to the chip, clearly tempted.

Silverbolt left him to make that decision by himself and went around to the other side of the debris pile, the side with Starscream's damaged wing. He could see that Starscream's feet were trapped beneath a nasty tangle of metal and synthcrete, and that the other girders had formed a sort of cage above him. He didn't dare pull anything underneath without first moving the upper pieces - otherwise he ran the risk of bringing the whole lot down on Starscream.

The piece of metal pinning Starscream's wing was separate from the rest. Studying it for a minute, Silverbolt was reasonably sure he could pull it free without starting a cascade reaction, but the question was whether he should. The presence of conductive metal in the middle of the delicate wing circuitry had to be hurting like hell, creating feedback and short circuits, but it could also be blocking energon lines.

"Can you shut off the hydraulic circulation to this wing?" Silverbolt asked, keeping his voice neutral, pretending it was one of his brothers.

"What?" Starscream turned his head painfully to see what Silverbolt was doing, and immediately panicked. "No, no don't touch that! It hurts!"

"It's that or leave you pinned to the floor forever," Silverbolt replied, sharpness slipping into his words despite his efforts. "Your choice."

Starscream stared at him for a few seconds, optics uncannily bright in the darkness, then said, "Where's Skyfire?"

Silverbolt ignored the question and the wriggle of unpleasant emotion that it provoked. "If you use that chip, it should take the edge off. I need to know if you can shut down your hydraulics or if you're going to bleed out as soon as this thing's out of the way."

"If I'm going to what?" Starscream's voice rose in pitch. "Where is Skyfire? What have you done to him?"

That did it.

"What have I done to him? You're the one who started shooting at us! You're the one who made the whole thing go critical!"

"Is he dead?" asked Starscream, staring at the gun in Silverbolt's hands, the words almost angry but not enough to hide something like dread behind them.

"No, of course not," snapped Silverbolt. "I wouldn't be helping you if he were!"

Starcream's optics went hard and focused. The panic seemed to have disappeared; all his attention was on Silverbolt, assessing and unpleasant.

"Is that so?" he said softly, and Silverbolt had the crawling feeling that he'd given himself away somehow.

"I'm going to pull this spike out," he said, pointedly ignoring the way Starscream immediately started to shake his head. "I need to know if you're going to bleed out."

"What the Pit does that even mean?"

Earth vocabulary. Of course Starscream wouldn't have picked it up. Wouldn't have bothered.

"I mean, have your hydraulics self-sealed or are you going to lose energon?"

"They're sealed but--"

Silverbolt leaned Skyfire's gun against the rubble, bent forward, took a firm grip on the girder, and yanked with all his strength. Even the midst of his anger and anxiety, he did his best to pull it straight out the way it had come, causing minimal extra damage. Starscream shrieked, thrashing in place once the pinning metal had been removed. Silverbolt pulled a second painkiller from his subspace, grabbed Starscream's flailing arm, and jammed it into the first data port he found.

Starscream snatched his arm back, glaring at Silverbolt like he intended to set his circuits on fire by sheer force of hatred. His wing wasn't leaking more than a trickle but the hole through it turned Silverbolt's gyros. He looked away, directing his attention to the debris pinning Starscream's legs.

"How badly are you damaged under there?"

Starscream spat a string of Cybertronian curses that Silverbolt only half understood. He ignored them as he knelt to examine the debris. It looked as though a lot of the weight lay between the girders that had formed their cage over Starscream: he might be able to pull some of the pieces out without dislodging the higher levels. Of course, he might also bring the whole thing down on Starscream's head, but right now Silverbolt was rather inclined to think he had it coming.

The synthcrete chunks and pieces of torn metal panelling were heavy. It took Silverbolt several minutes to ease one out of the forest of girders and shove it out of the way. The second one brought a cry of pain from Starscream. Faced with the options of letting it fall back into place, which might well cause further damage, or carrying on, Silverbolt kept it moving, eventually rolling it completely aside.

"Did that free anything up?"

"I don't know." Starscream sounded subdued now. Presumably the painkiller had done its work; he was propping himself up on his elbows to watch what Silverbolt was doing. "I can't feel my legs below the knee joint. Except when I get pain relays."

Silverbolt returned to pulling the pieces free. He did his best not to let them catch or scrape anything along the way. He heard a couple more yelps from Starscream, but for the most part the Seeker watched him silently, neither criticising nor offering suggestions. It was unnerving.

Finally, he'd pulled enough of the rubble aside that Starscream's legs looked relatively clear, albeit mangled. There were trailing wires and torn strips of plating that made Silverbolt wince reflexively. He stood up, intending to go around and pull Starscream back out of the pile, only to hear a quiet but definite shifting of rubble and a familiar voice.

"Silverbolt...?"

Silverbolt darted away, ignoring Starscream's protest, and quickly made his way back to Skyfire, who was trying to sit up. He dropped to his knees and slid an arm behind Skyfire's shoulders, helping him get upright.

"Silverbolt?" Skyfire's hand came up to grab at Silverbolt's shoulder, then slid to the back of his neck, the back of his helm. "Are you all right? Are you..."

"I'm fine, I'm okay." Silverbolt pressed their foreheads together, pushing out with his field in a wash of relief and concern. "Are you? You took a hard knock, don't try to move too fast."

"I need to run a couple of scans," said Skyfire after a moment. The dazed look was fading, but he seemed off balance still. He hadn't let go of Silverbolt. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes," Silverbolt reassured him. "Can I do anything?"

"No. I just need to let the scans run." Skyfire's optics brightened and became more focused. He looked at Silverbolt properly for the first time. "You're covered in dust. Your face is almost black!"

"If that's the worst of it, I'll take the dust," Silverbolt replied, half laughing with relief. Then, more seriously, "I was so worried..."

"I'm okay," Skyfire said. The hand that was still cupped behind Silverbolt's head moved to stroke the back of his neck reassuringly. "As far as I can tell, anyway. I think I must have unseated one of my chip boards and reset the relays. I'm not sure if I can transform but I can get by for now."

"That's good to--"

From Starscream's direction, there came a clatter and a bout of cursing. Silverbolt felt the shock that went through Skyfire's field, recognised it as the sudden recollection of what circumstances had brought them here. He tightened his arm briefly around Skyfire in a hug, then drew back.

"He's not going anywhere," he said quietly, hopefully too quietly to carry. "But I'd better go and check."

The reluctance with which Skyfire let go of him warmed Silverbolt's spark enough that he almost felt generous towards Starscream as he made his way back to the Seeker's corner.

The clatter, as it turned out, had been Starscream knocking askew one of the girders above him as he tried to pull himself out of the mess on his elbows. Silverbolt wasn't sure if it had hit him on the way down and glanced off, or landed just to the side of his head in the first place, but either way, Starscream was now keeping very, very still. He'd managed to draw his injured legs out of the space Silverbolt had created for them and turn over on his side. He happened to be facing Silverbolt's approach, which gave Silverbolt the full benefit of his glare.

"If you're quite finished..."

"Has anyone ever mentioned that it's usually a good idea to show at least the pretence of gratitude when someone's trying to help you?" Silverbolt retorted, any feelings of sympathy immediately drying up. "Or at least not to try and provoke them?"

Starscream shrugged as best he could without moving too much. "You know it's a lie. I know it's a lie. Why bother?"

Silverbolt didn't give him the satisfaction of a response. He looked around for something he'd spotted earlier - a broad, solid piece of girder of just the right length - and picked it up. He took a second's satisfaction in Starscream's abruptly nervous expression, then carefully wedged the girder in as an extra support on the side Starscream was closest to. The debris above him shifted worryingly, but held. Silverbolt grabbed for another support, then another, repeating the process until he was fairly sure the structure was as stable as it was going to get.

Then he took hold of one of the original pieces of metal - ignoring Starscream's panicky "No, wait, don't do that!" - and eased it out of the rubble at its base, taking the weight off it before sliding the top part out of the tangle above Starscream. It slid out without catching anything, and the structure held stable. Silverbolt assessed the gap it had made, then did the same thing with a second piece of metal. He couldn't get that one out completely, and the cage-like collection of girders suddenly creaked and shifted hard to the right, so he abandoned his efforts and just tucked it over to one side as best he could.

Starscream was staring at the debris above him like a rat in a trap. Silverbolt decided that haste was more important than careful consideration at this point. He ducked under the pile of debris and grabbed Starscream under the arms.

Starscream, typically, reacted by flailing and trying to get away. Silverbolt had to duck a hand that would have struck him in the face. "For Pit's sake hold still or you'll bring the whole lot--"

One of the girders above them slid free and smashed down onto the ground beside them. Starscream shrieked, Silverbolt pulled with all his strength, and the tenuous construction of metal and rubble came crashing down on where they had been half a second previously. Silverbolt dragged Starscream far enough that neither of them was in danger getting hit by subsidence from the settling heap, then unceremoniously dropped him.

"Ow--!"

"Oh, shut up." Silverbolt rubbed at his shoulder where a chunk of synthcrete had hit it. "I told you to stay still--"

"Maybe you should have given me some warning before you just grabbed me like a slagging crate--"

"What happened?" Skyfire was suddenly at Silverbolt's side, and noticeably unsteady on his feet. Silverbolt put out a hand automatically to offer support. Skyfire leaned into it gratefully. "I'm done with the scans, but it's going to take a while for my systems to stablise." He looked down at Starscream, taking in his injuries. "Though I guess I should count myself lucky."

"Stop staring at me," Starscream snapped back at him. The Seeker struggled to sit up, propping himself against the nearest wall, and peered around. Because he was watching for it, Silverbolt saw the moment when the full extent of their situation hit him. Starscream seemed to shrink in on himself, staring at the low ceiling with horror.

Skyfire, too, seemed to be taking in their surroundings properly for the first time. Silverbolt felt panic blossom hard and fast in his field, only to be crushed down with a ruthlessness that was breathtaking. Calmly, Skyfire said, "I think I'd better sit down again."

Silverbolt glanced around and then nudged Skyfire towards a stable-looking heap of rubble. They sat down close enough that their fields could overlap fully, and Silverbolt drew reassurance from Skyfire's self-control. He could see Skyfire looking around more intently now, taking in details.

"We need to get out of here fast," Silverbolt said, keeping his voice down out of some irrational feeling that it might be enough to set off another fall. "We've been incredibly lucky. I don't trust that mess up there to hold forever."

He gestured to the rubble-choked hole above them, but Skyfire didn't look up. He was frowning, gaze unfocused in the way of one paying attention to other senses than sight.

"Have you checked your altimeter?" Skyfire asked, the frown morphing into concern.

Silverbolt did so, and found the results nonsensical. "It's giving me negative numbers. I must have reset it when I fell--"

"No, mine's giving me the same." Skyfire did look up then, assessing the unstable-looking mass of debris. "I think we fell a long way, Silverbolt."

Silverbolt took the reading from his altimeter again and tried to make sense of it. He'd calibrated it to Cybertron's standards on their arrival; there was no sea level, but there were a number of set reference points. According to the numbers they were now well below the accepted "surface" level of the labyrinthine planet.

The power plant had still been some way above it. By Silverbolt's quick and extremely rough estimate, they must have fallen almost three hundred storeys - on Cybertron's scale. The thought made him dizzy. It was as if he'd fallen out of the sky on Earth.

"Why aren't we dead?" he asked, trying hard not to think about that long distance.

Skyfire took his hand, knowing without needing to be told. "The power plant must have been constructed above one of the old streets," he said. "One of the deep ones that was eventually roofed over. There used to be anti-grav nets every ten storeys to prevent accidental falls - if even a couple of them were still working, it would have been enough to slow us down. The real luck is that, up there--" he gestured to the ceiling. "Maybe some of that got caught in the anti-grav as well - we should have been under several hundred tons of it otherwise."

"I take it we're not getting back up that way, then."

"Definitely not."

"I can't get through to Iacon."

"Me neither. We must be too deep - all the electromagnetic noise in between is blocking the comms. Have you had a chance to look around? There should be some doors, or at least an access hatch..."

"There's nothing that I spotted." Silverbolt looked around again, trying to see to the edges of his lantern light. "There might be a way out at that end--"

"And a lot of good that will do you," Starscream cut in, making no pretence that he hadn't been listening. "The whole south end of this street fell in vorns ago, it's solid rubble right down to the junction with 57th Street."

Silverbolt started to snap something back, but Skyfire forestalled him, fixing Starscream with a searching look.

"You know this area?"

"Of course I do, it's Vos." Starscream's voice was contemptuous, but Silverbolt thought there was a twist of some other emotion behind the words. "In case you've forgotten, I was sparked--"

"I haven't forgotten. But I meant that you've been here recently."

Starscream looked shifty. "I didn't say that. I just have a good memory."

"A good memory for structural collapse that can't have happened until long after you left?"

Starscream said nothing. Skyfire pressed the advantage.

"What have you been looking for down here? I can't imagine you came for the scenery."

"Maybe I just wanted some peace and quiet away from that idiot Megatron and his pathetic excuse for an army!"

"Or maybe," Skyfire said slowly, "you don't really know what's powering that core up there either - maybe you've been trying to find out."

"I told you it was a radron catalyst!"

"But what is it using for raw materials? Crude fuel won't cut it and you can't have found crystalline radronite anywhere in Earth's solar system, it was formed under completely the wrong conditions." Skyfire was watching Starscream intently as he spoke, seeming to read every little movement and expression his words elicited. "You didn't expect it to work, did you? You were planning to cannibalise the parts, I'd guess, only when you started working on it, you found you could power it up..."

"Shut up!" shrieked Starscream, trying to push off from the wall as if to fly at Skyfire's throat. Silverbolt jerked around defensively, but Starscream's legs were well and truly unusable and he immediately subsided back into position. "Stop pretending you know what I'm thinking, you never know what I'm thinking--"

"I can give it a damn good guess!"

For a second Skyfire's calm fractured, and the uneasy feeling that had been building in Silverbolt's spark sprang into full force. The way Skyfire had been pushing at Starscream, peeling back his motives as if he could read minds, had something vindictive and cruel at his base. It was a side of Skyfire he never would have believed existed, and he had no doubt that it was Starscream, and Skyfire's history with Starscream, that had brought it out.

"If we can't go south, can we get out to the north?" Silverbolt asked, deliberately addressing Starscream, deliberately not looking at Skyfire. "Do you know the way back to the surface?"

"I did, before the whole place caved in," retorted Starscream - as if it had been their fault, not his, that the power plant had overloaded. "Now I have no idea. There might be a door past that fall to the north, if it isn't buried. Or not." His expression turned sly. "Of course, you'll have to take me with you if you want me to help you find a way out."

"And you'll have to give us some proof you actually know what you're talking about if you want us to take you with us," replied Silverbolt. He thought he did a good job of hiding the fact that refusing to take Starscream with them wasn't an option he would consider. "Where exactly is this door?"

"I don't know, I don't even know which part of the street we're in."

Skyfire had been silent since Silverbolt had diverted Starscream's attention away from him. Now he got up, slowly but without any sign of unsteadiness, and walked a short way north, bending to examine the wall as he went.

"There's a division mark here," he said after a moment. "3761-A."

"I've hardly memorised the divisions!" But Starscream's expression was thoughtful. "That might be... yes, it would make sense it we'd come down by the old scraphouse. Some of that rubble to the south must be new but we're probably just by the old fall. That'd make sense with the gravity nets - they obviously aren't functioning down there. So there should be an access hatch on the other side that opens onto a maintenance passage running parallel to the street."

Skyfire dutifully crossed the width of the street and began searching the far wall. Silverbolt watched in silence, but kept a small portion of his attention on Starscream. The Seeker was also watching Skyfire, but at the same time had pulled one of his legs up to his chest and was exploring the damaged wiring with quick fingers.

"Here's something." Skyfire bent down and hauled aside several large chunks of synthcrete. "Hmm. Yes, it does look like a hatch. It's jammed shut, though."

"Try the override," Starscream said, pulling out a long strand of wire with a tug that made Silverbolt wince reflexively. "Bottom right, might be in a recess."

He fished out another piece and twisted the two together, deftly plaiting the exposed ends. Silverbolt turned pointedly towards him, watching, and the way Starscream immediately thrust the wires back into his damaged leg and glared at Silverbolt told him everything he needed to know. Silverbolt made a mental note to keep an optic on Starscream at all times. There was a good chance he could repair his systems enough to walk, and at that point their tentative truce would be void.

"That's unlocked something," called Skyfire, and Silverbolt let his attention be drawn back to the other side of the street. Skyfire had opened a small crack and got his fingers inside it. He was now trying to slide the hatch back along its runners.

The metal hatch bent noticeably towards Skyfire, who paused, reassessed the situation, and then stopped trying to slide it and simply pulled outwards with all his strength. With a screech of tearing metal, the hatch came away from the wall. Skyfire dropped it to one side and bent to peer behind it.

"It's dark, but it looks like it opens out."

"Right." Silverbolt glanced back at Starscream. He didn't think the Seeker had moved, but he couldn't be sure. "I guess we're taking you along with us then."

Skyfire came back over to his side. Quietly, he said, "Silverbolt, I'm not sure I can fit through there."

Silverbolt cast a dismayed look at the opening. It seemed pretty big to him - he would barely have to duck his head, even - but Skyfire's wingspan might well prevent him from getting through even if he turned sideways.

"We might be able to widen it--"

"You'll fit," Starscream cut in. "You'll need to half-transform your wings and fuselage, that's all."

Skyfire looked at him for a long few seconds.

"I can't," he said. "The circuits are damaged."

Starscream snorted derisively. "Come here."

There was a pause that stretched out agonisingly for Silverbolt. Skyfire seemed to be studying Starscream, his whole posture defensive, his expression so wary it was almost open hostility. Starscream glared back at him, defiant, one hand raised in a beckoning motion that seemed to Silverbolt more instinctive than planned. It was another tableau, another lingering reminder of something that had been between them, once.

"What do you think you can do?" Skyfire said, breaking the standoff.

"Trigger the transformation sequence on your wings by manually overriding the circuitry under the secondary ailerons," Starscream retorted.

Skyfire hesitated. Then he turned to Silverbolt.

"You could do it," he said. "It's a prominent relay; you'd need to short-circuit it and--"

"He'll short-circuit your whole system more likely," Starscream snapped, optics flashing. "Don't be stupid, Skyfire."

Skyfire was still looking at Silverbolt, waiting for an answer. Silverbolt pushed down an upswell of fear and the urge to ask how Starscream knew so much about Skyfire's systems, and nodded.

"You'll need to tell me exactly--"

"I will."

The relief didn't show on Skyfire's face - he was too tightly controlling his expression for that - but Silverbolt felt the wash of it against his field. Skyfire did not want Starscream to touch him. If Silverbolt had been less sensitive to the undercurrents of the situation, that reluctance might have pleased him; as it was, it only deepened the sickening sense of wrongness, and his fervent desire to get Skyfire away from Starscream as soon as possible.

Skyfire turned his back to Silverbolt and glanced over his shoulder.

"Down beneath the primary wing," he said. "Just where the secondary comes out of my fuselage. There's a panel you can slide out of the way..."

"What the frag are you doing?" demanded Starscream, voice high and furious. "You can't just let some new-spark play around in your circuits--"

"Got it," said Silverbolt, doing his best to ignore the tirade. He let his field out to tangle with Skyfire's, both offering and seeking reassurance. He felt Skyfire push deeper, ghosting into his sensory responses, and realised that this was a way to make the procedure safer.

"Now there should be a triple relay, it'll look like a transformation circuit..."

Silverbolt moved his fingertips to brush the most obvious candidate. He felt Skyfire read the movement and compare it to his own sensations.

"Yes, that's it. You'll need to get some power to it - the best way is to create a connection to the primary--"

"Wait, can't I just..." Silverbolt didn't finish the sentence; he didn't need to. Even as the idea occurred to him, Skyfire read his intent through their deep field contact, and after a nanosecond's surprise, indicated his agreement.

"What are you--" Starscream began, but Silverbolt had already channeled the small amount of electricity through his fingertips. It hurt, and sparked alarmingly across Skyfire's circuitry, but even though Skyfire jumped involuntarily, it had the necessary effect. Skyfire's wings folded down behind his shoulders, sliding into a much more streamlined configuration.

"Thank you." Skyfire turned to catch Silverbolt's optics, and there was so much more in his smile than simple gratitude that for a moment Silverbolt couldn't care less about their desperate situation.

Silverbolt expected more from Starscream - more vitriol, more derogatory remarks - but the Seeker was oddly silent. When Silverbolt glanced his way, he found Starscream's optics fixed on Skyfire, bright and hard.

"So it's like that, is it?" he said softly, almost too quiet to hear. "You're so predictable, Skyfire."

Skyfire didn't look at him. He kept his optics on Silverbolt as he spoke. "Shall we go?"

"You need me!" Starscream seemed to hear a threat in Skyfire's question that eluded Silverbolt. "You can't just leave me here! We had a deal!"

"We'll keep our half of the deal." Silverbolt said. He glanced at Skyfire and added, "I found your gun after we fell. It's over there."

As Skyfire moved to pick up the weapon, Silverbolt steeled himself and walked briskly to Starscream's side. Starscream cowered back as if he expected an attack, then quickly switched to glaring viciously as soon as he realised it would not be forthcoming.

"You'd better not be planning on trying to carry me," he snarled. "Skyfire can--"

"Skyfire's going to need all the maneouvring room he can get."

Silverbolt leaned down and took hold of Starscream's below the shoulder, pulling him mostly upright. Starscream protested, but Silverbolt noticed that his legs locked into position to keep him standing - so he hadn't completely lost function below the knee joints.

The last thing he wanted was to turn his back on Starscream. It took an actual effort of will to do it, keeping hold of the arm and hauling Starscream forward, protesting, so he was half on Silverbolt's back. Silverbolt had already pulled his field in as tight as he could, but it wasn't enough to completely avoid contact with Starscream's. He told himself he could put up with it. There was no way in the Pit he was going to make Skyfire carry Starscream.

Starscream was faced with a choice between sliding awkwardly off Silverbolt's back or hanging on. He went with the second option, hands scrabbling uncomfortably at Silverbolt's vents for purchase. Silverbolt repressed a shudder and got to work on wedging Starscream's legs in behind his wings. He ignored the stream of invective now right beside his audio receptor.

"Okay, let's go," he said at last, when he was fairly sure Starscream was secure.

Skyfire had watched silently as Silverbolt dealt with Starscream. Now he met Silverbolt's optics, a silent question in his own.

"I'm fine," Silverbolt said - lied - and gestured Skyfire towards the hatch. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

The hatch led to the promised maintenance tunnel, and that in turn granted them access to what might once have been a residential block. Skyfire didn't recognise the place, but Starscream had correctly predicted it, so at least for now he seemed to be co-operating.

He carefully kept his worries off his face while Starscream directed them up the grand, and still mostly intact, staircase. Starscream could probably be trusted to a point, but when and where that point would fall was something Skyfire could only guess. He thought they had a while. He was terrified he was wrong.

Silverbolt was handling the situation with his usual poise, and Skyfire was trying hard not to give him any reason to hesitate. Silverbolt didn't know what it really meant to be trapped underground on Cybertron. He'd never been lost, not really - not when lost meant trapped away from the sky. There were no buildings on Earth large or complex enough to hold a Cybertronian. They could always find a way out.

Skyfire had never been this deep on Cybertron. Even when he'd been at the Academy, the lowest levels had been long-abandoned as they built outwards and upwards. The roofed-over streets of Vos had been sealed away from the sky for longer than Skyfire had been in existence - considerably longer. The lower into the labyrinth you went, the harder it became to get out - what had once been a route upward might terminate in an impenetrable ceiling (the floor of a new development built on top of the old) or become choked with debris and rubbish from the higher levels. There had been holes and chasms even before the war, great pock marks formed by industrial work or industrial disaster. Afterwards, the rifts had deepened and the pits had grown wider. A staircase might lead into nothingness, or worse, into a trap of unstable debris.

They progressed in silence for the most part, which worried Skyfire even more. It wasn't like Starscream to just shut up of his own accord, especially not when he was in that undignified and uncomfortable position on Silverbolt's back. He gave directions periodically, sometimes without even being asked. That wasn't right. That wasn't Starscream. Or rather, it was - it was Starscream when he was preoccupied with something else. Or plotting.

They were going upwards at a very slow rate. Each flight of stairs was followed by considerable trekking through corridors on the same level before another ascent could be made. Skyfire was giving the entirety of his attention that wasn't focused on Starscream to memorising their route and placing it in the context of their last known position. He wasn't convinced he was doing more than guessing at shadows, but it helped him feel they weren't completely dependent on Starscream's caprice.

They'd made it up maybe thirty floors when they hit their first problem.

"Through that arch there'll be a hall with an elevator shaft," Starscream was saying. "There's an emergency ladder in the shaft. It'll be a lovely long climb but--"

He stopped short as abruptly as Silverbolt stopped walking. Skyfire was sure his surprise was genuine. Beyond the arch was nothing: a black void with no floor, only the distant hints of metal to show where the far wall was.

"Have we doubled back over the area that collapsed?" Silverbolt asked.

"No," said Skyfire and Starscream at the same time. Starscream turned to shoot a poisonous look at Skyfire, who ignored it.

"We haven't gone nearly far enough," Skyfire went on. "But it's possible the overloading of the core caused shockwaves through the nearby structures. Anything that was already unstable might have come down."

"Okay, where now?" Silverbolt asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

"How should I know?" Starscream's voice was always screechy, but Skyfire heard a note of real panic in it. That was not good. "This is the only way up!"

"There's got to be another one. There must be hundreds of stairs in these buildings."

"Stairs do us no good if they've been blocked off!" Starscream was panicking, and in a way Skyfire recognised - he'd always had a horror of getting trapped somewhere he couldn't reach the sky, far worse than the usual flyer's twitchiness. "Let go of me, let me down!"

He flailed at Silverbolt, who lost his grip out of sheer surprise, as far as Skyfire could tell. Starscream went over backwards, hitting the ground wings first and with a howl of pain, legs sliding down after him with a graceless thud. Silverbolt spun around, confused and maybe even slightly concerned. Skyfire wanted to drag him away and tell him not waste his sympathy - but if Starscream had a full-on panic attack, they could end up in even worse trouble than they already were.

"If nothing else, we should still be able to get into the Rust Pit if we can figure out exactly where we are," Skyfire said. "It would be a nightmare trying to fly out of there from this far down, but I can probably manage it."

It must have sounded more convincing than it was in his processor, because Silverbolt gave him an expectant look, waiting for more information, while Starscream scrabbled into a sitting position and glared with all the scorn he could muster. Which was, at this precise moment, actually a relief.

"Don't be ridiculous. All the access routes below the surface levels were sealed up before either of us were sparked, and you could never get the right launching angle even if there was a way out."

"If we can find even a sealed access, we might be able to reopen it. And I've taken off from tight spots before. It's worth a shot."

"Do you have any idea where we are relative to the pit?" asked Silverbolt.

"Not really," Skyfire was forced to admit. "If we fell straight down from the reactor building, and if I've kept track of our movements since accurately enough, I might be able to calculate which basic direction we should set off in, but..."

"It's that way." Starscream pointed to one side without even looking.

"How can you be sure?"

"I'm just that good!"

It sounded short-tempered but there was a hint there of the smug, provocative note Starscream had used all too often when putting forward theories based more on instinct than fact. Skyfire had found it charming once. Now, he kept his expression blank and his optics hard, waiting.

Starscream fell into it, as usual; he couldn't abide the silence and the absence of questions. Skyfire used to play along, teasing the answers out of him the way Starscream wanted, flattering him with attention. He had no inclination to do so these days.

"I dropped a location beacon down the Rust Pit before I started exploring," Starscream admitted. "It's tuned to my transponders so no-one else can pick it up."

It was clever, and unusually forethoughtful of Starscream. He wanted praise, or at least acknowledgement of his cleverness. Skyfire gave him neither, turning his attention instead to Silverbolt.

"The last intersection had at least one passage that would take us in approximately the right direction."

"Okay, let's give it a shot--"

"Don't I get a say?" Starscream broke in waspishly and with the glimmer of fury in his optics that betrayed how effective Skyfire's dismissal had been. "What if I don't want to--"

"No." Silverbolt stared him down, apparently unmoved by the way Starscream's face twisted up with hate. "You don't get a say. We need you to direct us, but you need us to carry you. Unless you can tell us how we get out of here, right now, we're going to try Skyfire's plan. And if I catch you misdirecting us, we'll leave you here and we won't look back."

A chill went through Skyfire at how unshakeable Silverbolt sounded. There was a large part of him that wanted to leave Starscream down here to whatever fate awaited him - and another part that was secretly convinced he'd escape regardless of their intervention - but it wasn't something any Autobot could do in cold conscience. Silverbolt sounded very cold just then - very cold and very sure.

He had Starscream convinced, that was obvious. Starscream darted glances between the two of them, maybe looking for sympathy or just something he could manipulate, then snarled a string of insults in Old Cybertronian and hunched over his injured legs, scowling.

"It won't work. It's not just a door that's been welded shut or a window that's been plated over. The pit's been well-sealed over the vorns. Even if we do find a breach, getting out..."

"I'll take care of that," said Skyfire.

Starscream glared at him. Silverbolt shook his head and stepped forward.

"Come on," he said. "I don't particularly want to spend any more time down here arguing than I have to."

At that, Starscream favoured Silverbolt with a look Skyfire couldn't interpret - which alarmed Skyfire more than he cared to admit - and said sweetly, "Oh, but we're having so much fun."

"All good things come to an end," Silverbolt shot back. He grabbed Starscream by the arm and pulled him, unresisting, to his feet. "Grab on and shut up."

Trying to go straight towards Starscream's beacon signal was impossible. Every passage they took veered off, or was blocked, or opened into a void. They kept backtracking and trying new routes; they had to go down several times, giving up the hard-won levels that had been bringing them closer to the surface. After a while, Skyfire calculated that they were almost back at the street they'd fallen into, albeit higher up and on a different side.

Silverbolt, who was a couple of paces ahead, stopped suddenly. He cut off Starscream's complaint with a low-voiced, "Quiet!" and hurried back to Skyfire's side.

"Turn off the lantern."

"What?" shrieked Starscream. "Why would you--"

"I said be quiet!"

The lantern was already off, and now Skyfire saw what had alarmed Silverbolt. There was light up ahead.

"It could be someone coming to look for us," Skyfire murmured.

"Not this soon, this far down."

"Independent exploration?"

"Not by Autobots."

"Not by Decepticons either," Starscream put in. "No-one comes near this area. It's been under interdict so long most people even fly around it."

"Except you, apparently." Silverbolt glanced at Skyfire. "Does it look like a hand-held light to you?"

"Not really. More like wall lighting coming from a room or intersection."

"I guess the only thing to do is keep going."

"Wait," Starscream protested, "can't you put me down first?"

"Not if you want to be picked up again."

It was a room, as it turned out. The double doors that had once barred it from the corridor were still in place, but one had sagged outwards, leaving just enough gap for the light to escape. Throughout their cautious approach, Skyfire heard nothing up ahead - no sign of anyone else present.

"Skyfire," Silverbolt whispered, pointing at the doorway. "Don't those look familiar?"

Skyfire recognised the same glyphs that had been on the entrance to the power plant above.

"If it's part of the same complex..."

"It shouldn't be," said Starscream. "We're a long way down. But we're almost directly underneath..."

"You think this is the source?"

Starscream shrugged as best he could without dislodging his grip on Silverbolt.

"I don't know. But they didn't build it, that's for certain. This place is old - much older than the radron catalyst or the mechs who built it. Maybe they just tapped into something down here."

"Something that's been running all this time?" said Silverbolt. "That's not good. All extraneous processes were supposed to shut down to conserve energy..."

"Maybe it's not an extraneous process," said Starscream.

"In which case they'd be mad to try and tap it," replied Skyfire. "Let's take a look."

He went first, sending a swift scan through the doors before forcing them fully open. He wasn't surprised that there was no movement in the room beyond; by this time he was sure they were alone down here.

He was surprised by the alien feel of the room beyond. Starscream was right - this was old, older than anything Skyfire had seen except for once - that ill-fated expedition he and Starscream had joined, seeking a way to the centre of the planet, all those vorns ago when war was only just whispering on the horizon...

Skyfire shook the past out of his mind, holding onto only the cold facts that might be useful. They had gone down far enough to reach rooms and vaults built on wildly divergent lines from even the most ancient Cybertronian architecture. The archaeologists on the team had speculated that they were designed to accommodate a quite different root build than the bipedal form of most Cybertronians. They'd wondered if there had been a time when 'bots had used a different root mode, later replaced by the more common form.

It had been Starscream who had wondered if they'd been designed for an entirely different race of beings.

The room curved back smoothly and its back wall was pierced by another tunnel, one that seemed to slope sharply downwards. Console panels were mounted to either side of it, and above them were screens that at first glance seemed dead. A second look showed they were only in hibernation mode. The panels were still active.

"What is this?" muttered Skyfire, mostly to himself, as he crossed the room to examine the panels.

"Take me over there," he heard Starscream order Silverbolt. Then, after a pause, "I said--"

"I know this place."

Skyfire turned sharply. Silverbolt was staring about him in confusion and something that might almost be fear. He looked very young suddenly. Starscream had shut up, miraculously, and was peering down at Silverbolt thoughtfully.

"Silverbolt--"

"Do you know this place?" asked Starscream. "Or just somewhere like it?"

Silverbolt twitched all over and tossed a disgusted look over his shoulder. "Get out of my field."

"I'm just trying to--"

Skyfire strode across and plucked Starscream off Silverbolt's back. He'd been expecting resistance, but Starscream didn't quite react fast enough. Skyfire carried him a couple of paces over to the consoles, dumped him on top of one, and said "There, have fun."

Then he went back to Silverbolt. The vulnerability had vanished; Silverbolt was looking around him now with intense optics and a frown that spoke of some quick thinking.

"He's right, though," he said in an undertone as Skyfire reached his side. "It's not the same place, just similar."

"Was it when you and your brothers went back..."

Skyfire hesitated, because 'back in time' was a little weird, even compared to some of the things he'd encountered in deep space, and besides, no-one was quite sure, from the Aerialbots' descriptions, whether they really had travelled back to the dawn of the war, or if it had been some sort of memory download that had given them information they couldn't have gained any other way.

"No." Silverbolt laid a hand on a panel nearby, then brought it away as if scalded. "It's warm!"

Skyfire touched the metal; sure enough, it was warm - hot, rather, hot enough to burn a human, though rather pleasant to the Cybertronian senses. And that triggered something in his memory, hadn't Wheeljack said...

"Vector Sigma," said Silverbolt. "My memories are blurry. I was only just awake. But this is like the control room - the place where we were sparked."

"It can't be the same place."

"No, no it's not... but it's the same sort of design, the same... feeling. Does Vector Sigma have more than one control room?"

"I don't think so. Starscream--"

Skyfire turned, expecting to see Starscream studying the controls. It gave him a shock to find those scarlet optics locked on him. He forced himself not to flinch, to keep speaking.

"Could this be another control room for Vector Sigma?"

"No. This is something different."

Starscream held his gaze for a few more seconds, as if making some sort of point, before turning to look down at the controls. He tapped quickly at a couple and suddenly the screens lit up. Skyfire took in dozens of displays all streaming readings for hundreds of outputs.

"I went back, you know," Starscream went on, and with a jolt Skyfire knew he was talking about that same expedition so very long ago. He couldn't have read Skyfire's field. It had to be coincidence. And in a way, that was worse - knowing that Starscream had been thinking about the same memories. "After Powerdrive and those other fools had limped home. While you were on the Tau Triton expedition. I went down deep, almost to the core. After a while you just can't go any further, it's all triple-sealed and cordoned. But these control rooms, they're all over the place. None of them higher than the oldest strata of recorded history. Some of them almost adjoining the core itself. And they're all still running. Still monitoring. It's almost like they're waiting for something..."

Skyfire studied the panels, trying to interpret the readouts. He wasn't sure, but he thought some of them were for the planet as a whole, great swathes of data beyond even the most sophisticated sensors the Autobots possessed. Others monitored the surface, and then space beyond that. There was something he thought might be a deep-space monitoring station, except it was showing only one bright blip, drifting slowly but purposefully through the blackness. The readings seemed to indicated it was on a course to intercept Cybertron, but that would change - Cybertron was moving constantly, speeding through space with no sun to anchor it. Whatever the distant object was, it could hardly adjust course to keep up. When it reached their current position in - oh, years from now - it would simply pass through empty space long since left behind. It seemed strange that the system was tracking it at all.

"What about this?" Silverbolt was kneeling, examining a thick bundle of cables that snaked down one wall and followed the foot of the consoles, disappearing into the far doorway. "This looks different."

"Hmm. They're still old, but much more recent." Skyfire parted the strands carefully, gauging the purpose of each. Some fibre optics, but most were crystal lattice weave - the highest quality on Cybertron, judging by the flex. "And designed to pump energy of some kind, by the look of things..."

"What a coincidence," Starscream said nonchalantly. "As far as I could tell, the main power feed for the radron catalyst looked a lot like that."

Skyfire fixed him with a hard stare. "Did you know about this place?"

"No. But I can't say I'm surprised." Starscream tapped out a few more commands, brought up a screen full of unintelligible writing at which he gazed thoughtfully. "Why don't you find out what's down that hallway?"

"Maybe you'd like to share your conclusions with the rest of us?"

"Maybe I wouldn't."

They locked optics and Skyfire felt the familiar boil of anger and frustration - for Pit's sake, why couldn't Starscream just spit it out instead of dancing around to flatter his ego and stack the deck in his favour...?

"This isn't helping us get out," Silverbolt said, and Skyfire was startled - he'd almost forgotten their situation, caught up as he was in the mystery. "It's all very interesting, but we'll need to backtrack to the last intersection and try the next--"

"You can't be serious," protested Starscream. "Leave? I'd never find my way back!"

"You are under no obligation to accompany us," Silverbolt replied, rather too pleasantly.

Skyfire hesitated, because Silverbolt was right, this was a distraction they could ill-afford. The chance to tease out the purpose of this place and the significance of the radron catalyst was of little use if they never escaped the maze of Cybertron's lower levels, but...

... but there was something. Something about this that didn't sit right. The war-beleagured scientists of Vos building a radron catalyst that couldn't possibly work, finding their way down here into the labyrinth - for what? Simple curiosity couldn't have been the driving factor.

And that was the other thing - Starscream wanted to know.

Starscream certainly had a burning sense of curiosity, a need to find out everything he could about whatever took his interest - but it had always been secondary to his survival instinct, his pride, and his self-interest. It had been Skyfire who'd had to be dragged away from fascinating alien lifeforms as their suns went nova, Skyfire who'd lingered for orns studying the simplest cellular structures long after Starscream had declared them useless, and Skyfire who'd insisted on diving into Earth's turbulent atmosphere for just a glimpse of the organics he was sure were down there...

If Starscream was this focused, it meant that whatever had been going on down here was important - not just for scientific curiosity, but important to the Decepticons - or important to Starscream himself. And it meant that Starscream knew something big that Skyfire didn't.

They couldn't leave yet.

He caught Silverbolt's arm and drew him away from Starscream, leaning in close to speak.

"I think we should look into this before we go anywhere," he murmured. Silverbolt shot him a surprised, almost betrayed look that went straight to Skyfire's spark. Desperately, he let his field expand to touch Silverbolt's, trying to convey a certainty that was instinctive rather than logical. "I think it's important."

A long moment, and then Silverbolt nodded. His own field had been drawn in tight, still defensive from carrying Starscream; all at once he opened out, pulled Skyfire in and let him see how exhausted and tense he was, and the creeping claustrophobia that was starting to take its toll. Skyfire would have put his arms around him, except he was all too aware of Starscream behind them - maybe concentrating on the panel, or maybe watching with that hard expression on his face.

He settled for a hand on Silverbolt's shoulder, a gesture so familiar to both of them that Silverbolt smiled, and Skyfire returned it gladly.

"Okay," Silverbolt said. "But be as quick as you can. The longer we're down here, the more chance there is the Decepticons will be waiting when we get out."

He didn't add, and the more chance there was of Starscream finding a way to betray them, but he didn't need to. Even if Skyfire hadn't been able to feel it in his field, he was thinking the same thing himself.

It was harder than Silverbolt cared to admit to watch Skyfire disappear down the corridor into darkness. He wanted badly to go with him - but that would mean leaving Starscream unwatched, and Silverbolt wasn't fool enough to think that would end well.

Starscream didn't deign to watch Skyfire go; he was glancing quickly between the console and the screens above, tapping keys and bringing up new displays every few seconds. Silverbolt watched, trying to understand what the visualisations and numbers represented, but he could make very little sense of it. He almost asked Starscream - but stopped himself at the last second. Partly, he had to admit, out of pride - but also out of caution. He didn't know what these systems were capable of, or if Starscream might be able to use them to his advantage. Without Skyfire here to spot any potentially dangerous activity on the screens, Silverbolt could only hope that Starscream would err on the side of caution, thinking Silverbolt understood more than he did.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Starscream would simply assume that he knew nothing and go ahead quite brazenly with whatever plan he might concoct. Which made Silverbolt wish all the more that he could figure out some of the data on the screens.

At least while Starscream was absorbed, he was less of a threat physically. Silverbolt drifted around the control room, studying the panels and runnings his fingertips along their rounded edges. The warmth was unnerving, almost like touching a living 'bot's plating.

Silverbolt's comms pinged; for a startled, hopeful second he thought that his brothers or Ultra Magnus had made contact. Then he recognised Skyfire's code and realised that the interference on the other channels must not affect short-distance broadcasts.

:Yes?:

:Get down here.:

Silverbolt stiffened; he'd never heard that tone of voice from Skyfire. There was anger there, but it was swamped by something else, some disbelieving emotion like horror or grief. He started moving towards the corridor before his processor caught up with him.

:What about Starscream?:

:Bring him!: Skyfire almost laughed, an awful sound. :Either he doesn't know what's down here, in which case he needs to see it - or he does, in which case I'll kill him myself.:

Silverbolt flinched from the utter flatness of that proclamation. It wasn't even a threat - just a statement of intent. He turned to look at Starscream, and jumped ever so slightly when he found the Decepticon was watching him.

"He's found something, hasn't he?" Starscream said. "Is he coming back up?"

"No, we're going down."

"I'm busy, why can't he just--"

Silverbolt had reached the end of any pretence at patience. He walked over to Starscream's perch on the console, grabbed one gesticulating arm, and used it to swing Starscream over his shoulder like a sack of energon cubes. The Seeker tried to flail free, but without the function in his legs, all he could do was beat his hands against Silverbolt's wings. The shriek of utter fury was almost satisfying as Silverbolt made his way to the corridor entrance.

"PUT ME DOWN AT ONCE YOU SLAGGING SORRY EXCUSE FOR A SLAGGING--"

"I am getting so very tired of telling you to shut up!"

"-- I'LL TEAR YOUR FINS OFF AND DROP YOU IN A VAT OF ACID AND--"

Silverbolt temporarily muted his audio receptors, trudging down the sloping passageway in blissful silence. Even the occasional blow against his sore wings seemed less painful when he couldn't hear the accompanying clang. Up ahead, he saw light. He thought at first it was Skyfire's lantern, but then he realised it had a softer, golden tinge. It was... familiar. More than familiar - it made something in his spark ache with recognition.

The room at the bottom of the passage did not look as though it had been intended for use as more than a storage area. It certainly hadn't originally had a gaping hole in the left hand wall - that was obvious from the way the panelling had been peeled back and sawn through. And Silverbolt could only assume that the golden, many-faceted bundle of gigantic cables visible through that wall - the source of the light - had never been meant for access in this way.

Skyfire was sitting on the floor by the gap, his back to the wall, and in his hands was a loop of the rope-like bundle of cables that Silverbolt realised had snaked its way down from the room above. The other end of it disappeared into the gap. Skyfire looked up and said something - Silverbolt quickly turned his audio receptors back on.

"-- know about what?" Starscream was saying from somewhere in the vicinty of Silverbolt's lower back. Silverbolt went down on one knee and unloaded Starscream none too gently onto the floor, where he rolled into a sitting position, cursing and glaring daggers in Silverbolt's direction.

"About this!" Skyfire was on his feet, flinging a hand in the direction of the golden light. "The power source for that catalyst!"

"Ah." Starscream seemed uncowed by the anger radiating from Skyfire. Silverbolt stood frozen in place; he wanted to go to Skyfire, but he was suddenly, horribly sure that he might be called upon to protect Starscream if Skyfire tried to make good on his earlier threat. "Vector Sigma, I presume?"

Silverbolt's spark jolted as he remembered awakening with that golden glow on his face, feeling life come into his new body and his mind spread out with all the knowledge he would need to function - and no memory but shadows of his former existence.

"You knew."

The flatness in Skyfire's voice only worsened Silverbolt's fears. He tried to catch Skyfire's optics, but they were locked on Starscream. Starscream, whose self-assured expression faltered, who seemed to finally pick up on the danger clear in the tension in Skyfire's frame.

"I-- I guessed they'd found a way to tap the power supply," Starscream babbled, inching backwards. "No-one's ever known exactly how Vector Sigma is powered, it's never seemed affected by the energy drain, even when the planet shut down, so it makes sense there must be some sort of self-renewing element to its construction--"

Even as he spoke, Silverbolt saw Skyfire's expression change. He seemed to sag - maybe in relief, or just surprise - and was shaking his head through the last of Starscream's hasty explanation.

"They didn't find the power source," Skyfire said. "Starscream, it's a radron catalyst, and they'd plugged it into Vector Sigma. What do you think it's using for fuel?"

Starscream went still. His mouth opened and shut, and then he said, with more disbelief than anything else, "No."

"What?" Silverbolt looked from one of them to the other, focusing on Skyfire with increasing impatience and alarm. "What is it, Skyfire? What is a radron catalyst? What does Vector Sigma have to do with--"

"Oh, spare us your babbling," snarled Starscream, but Skyfire ignored him, beckoning Silverbolt over to the gap in the wall.

The golden tubes within were massive, large enough for a human to crawl inside. Up close, he could see the cables spliced into the tubes, spreading out like a spider's web across the glowing surface.

"Radron energy forms naturally in some solar systems and high-intensity gas nebulae," Skyfire said. "It's usually very thinly dispersed, barely detectable unless you know what you're looking for. It was a long time before anyone even came up with a way of using it. And there was opposition, at the time, a lot of people thought it shouldn't be something we investigated..."

"Fools," said Starscream softly from behind them.

"Because there's one other form in which we find radron energy," Skyfire went on grimly. "Highly compressed, extremely pure, extremely volatile." He reached out and touched Silverbolt's chest; Silverbolt stared at him blankly. "Our sparks, Silverbolt. They are radron energy in its purest form."

Silverbolt looked from Skyfire to the cables, then back; he was starting to understand, but he couldn't process the full, horrifying implications.

"You know how Vector Sigma works," Skyfire said. "When a Cybertronian is killed, their spark is reclaimed - drawn back into the heart of Cybertron and kept safe by its guardian. Vector Sigma has the power to create wholly new sparks, but it never will unless its supply of those reclaimed is exhausted. After the war there must be thousands of sparks in storage, waiting to be reborn..."

Silverbolt wasn't thinking of himself, but of his brothers, and of Hot Spot and his crew - imagining that terrible power plant up above running at full capacity, devouring sparks as tribute, imagining if it had taken one of them, all of them, and Silverbolt would never even have known...

"Not a bad source of power, if you think about it," Starscream said casually, deliberate cruelty in his voice. "Just one could run this city for a vorn. And as you say, there are thousands of them - and Vector Sigma can always make more..."

Silverbolt lunged blindly in Starscream's direction, driven by a towering rage that fed on horror, but now it was Skyfire holding him back. Silverbolt caught the understanding from his field: this was what Starscream did, when something shocked or unsettled him - he went for someone else's throat, tried to turn his own discomfort into someone else's pain. The weariness and remembered hurt that accompanied the wash of emotion was almost more than Silverbolt could bear. He was seized with the crazy desire to just grab Skyfire and run, find their way back to the surface somehow, leave Starscream to rust with this abomination.

Back to the surface. They needed Starscream for that. And the abomination could not be allowed to stand unchallenged.

"How much of the power station survived the explosion, do you think?" he asked, forcing himself to focus on Skyfire. "Could it be restarted?"

"Hard to say. It would have been supported from below, so it might not have fallen with the floors. The explosion damage would have been mainly in the transference coils, not the converter itself."

"Then we need to seal this whole area off. Cut off the... supply. Not just cut the cables, but make sure no-one can get down here again."

"Yes." Skyfire hadn't let go of his arm, but his grip had eased, and the touch was comforting now. Silverbolt knew that Skyfire was drawing reassurance from it too. "We might be able to use that control room above. Tap into the critical systems in this area... it'll be risky, though. We might trigger something too big to get out of."

"You might," Starscream put in scornfully. He'd been listening intently and with a surprising lack of interruption. "I can do it. I might even be able to open up that exit we've been looking for."

Silverbolt shot him a skeptical glance, but waited for Skyfire's reaction. He felt the doubt in his friend's field, mixed up with the slew of other emotions Starscream brought out in him.

"I didn't see anything up there that looked like local environment controls."

"Because there aren't any, of course. Those control rooms weren't ever meant for maintenance tasks or anything so menial. They're all about surveillance. And the system is still operational enough to tell me there's a massive short circuit waiting to happen right above our heads. It'll trip some pressure doors and create a shockwave that will blow out dozens of partitions for floors up and down. Including the ones between here and the Rust Pit."

"You were busy up there," Skyfire said. He was focused on Starscream so utterly that for a moment Silverbolt felt he had been forgotten. "Why were you looking for ways to destroy the place, before you ever knew what was down here?"

"Who says I was? I just happened to notice it."

"Out of all that data and all those screens?"

"Just because you never pay enough attention--"

"Starscream." Skyfire's voice was as hard as titanium. "What is that control room? Why do you want it destroyed?"

"I don't know!" And from the sheer frustration in the words, Silverbolt thought Starscream was telling the truth. "I have no idea what it is! But it wasn't built by Cybertronians. It shouldn't be active but it still is. And the data in there, Skyfire - it's been recording everything for vorns, hundreds of thousands of vorns, recording and dumping into self-replicating storage, and the storage is set to upload as soon as it receives a certain data link..."

"Decepticon? Autobot?"

"Neither!" Starscream hunched in, scowling. "I couldn't crack the encryption. It's like nothing I've ever seen."

Skyfire nodded slowly. He glanced at Silverbolt, who bit back the desire to ask what exactly they were talking about - what significance this conversation held, for clearly it meant something he was missing.

"Can you take him back upstairs while I remove these cables?"

"Of course."

Starscream made little protest as Silverbolt helped him scramble onto his back. He was even quiet as they went back up the stairs, and when Silverbolt deposited him onto the control counter. From the way he immediately started scrolling through the screens, he'd been preoccupied with the details of his proposed plan.

Skyfire came back into the room a few minutes later, rolling up the cable as he went. When he got to the part of the wall where it emerged, he took it firmly in both fists and pulled hard. The cables strained, stretched, and then snapped one by one. Skyfire dropped the cable and moved to Starscream's side. Silverbolt tensed involuntarily, expecting one of them to say something, but neither spoke. Starscream was still tapping away at the keys and Skyfire just stood there watching the screens.

"What about those load-bearing pillars?" he said at one point, and Starscream replied, without even looking up, "Compensated."

Silverbolt pushed down the sudden sweep of jealousy that took him then, pushed it down hard and stamped on it. He knew it was ridiculous. Skyfire was desperate to get away from Starscream, he'd have to be blind to miss that - there was nothing in that wreck of a relationship for him to envy.

Except - except that Starscream was a scientist, and Silverbolt had no idea what he was doing on the screens, and Skyfire could just step into his thought process like that and Starscream knew what he meant...

"I've got it," Starscream said, triumphantly. And then, voice altering suddenly, "It's happening quicker than--"

Skyfire quite calmly said, "We should run now."

He hauled Starscream up off the console and turned for the door, moving quickly but without panic. Silverbolt took his word for it, darting out into the corridor and heading briskly back to the last intersection they'd passed. He paused at the corner and looked back in time to see Skyfire pick up the pace, not quite running, whilst Starscream cursed at him and complained about being jostled around like cargo. The room behind them was brighter than it had been, and getting brighter still, almost dazzling. Silverbolt ducked around the corner and hurried to the next, taking the turn that would put more distance between him and that brilliance. He paused again for Skyfire to catch up, and heard, not an explosion but a sound that was rather like whump.

The pressure wave hit them two seconds later, sent Skyfire tumbling forward onto his knees as he rounded the corner, threw Starscream to the floor, and battered Silverbolt into the nearest wall. It was accompanied by a great cloud of dust, enough to clog Silverbolt's vents and cover his optics with a thin film of grey.

And... that was it. No fire, no explosions, no other obvious collapse. Silverbolt wiped his optics and looked suspiciously at Starscream - who was still grousing about his treatment.

"Was that--"

"Sounded like it worked," Skyfire said, picking himself up. "Anything more dramatic than that and we've had been in trouble."

He paused, looking down at Starscream with obvious reluctance; without a word, Silverbolt moved in to carry the Seeker again. The gratitude that flashed through Skyfire's optics went a long way towards easing the ache in Silverbolt's spark.

The control room was just... gone. Whatever huge outpouring of heat or energy Starscream had engineered had either vaporised it or caused it to plunge deep down through the floors below. The corridor that had led to it was now choked with debris. Peering over it, Silverbolt could see the edges of floors and walls, ending abruptly in empty space. It was hard to tell with so much of it in darkness, but it looked as though a gigantic, rough sphere had been bitten out of the three-dimensional structure all around them.

"So how are we going to get out?"

"This way," said Starscream, pointing imperiously - but he couldn't keep his field right out of Silverbolt's, and Silverbolt felt an echo of his own weariness in the Seeker. They were all tired of this venture.

They followed a set of corridors around the worst of the damage, guided by Starscream's beacon and the information he'd taken from the consoles. In the end, it was surprisingly easy to find what they'd been looking for. The far edge of the destruction had torn out thick walls and bulkheads just as Starscream had predicted. Silverbolt found the hatch, long welded shut, and Skyfire managed to get it open with a combination of ingenuity and brute force. On the other side was a maintenance tunnel, and that had more doors, bigger ones. It didn't take long to find one that was half off its hinges.

On the other side was immense, empty space. Silverbolt couldn't even get a feel for the depth of it - or the height. There was just blackness. If any light was coming from above, they were too far down to see it. He shrank back against the wall before he could help himself, and felt a curl of disdain from Starscream's field.

Skyfire found a handhold on the wall and then swung himself outwards, leaning precariously over the void. Silverbolt had to forcibly mute his vocaliser to keep from crying out. He tried to keep his field in tight, tried to hide the fear, not just his own irrational response to the height but fear for Skyfire's safety. He didn't think he was successful. Starscream's emotions bled into his despite his efforts, and now he caught vicious amusement from the Seeker. Silverbolt had the impression that if Starscream had been able to stand on his own feet right now, he would have given Silverbolt a good, hard shove towards the edge.

... and maybe not just to scare him, either. Behind the casual sadism, there was something sharp-edged and black, more than just Starscream's hatred for Autobots in general. This was something directed specifically at Silverbolt himself, and he had a sinking feeling he knew why.

"I can just about see the top," Skyfire reported, swinging back into the opening with apparent unconcern.

He took one look at Silverbolt's face and reached out as if to take his hand, but stopped short at the last moment, optics flicking over Silverbolt's shoulder. Silverbolt tried not to imagine Starscream's expression.

"There's enough room," Skyfire went on after an awkward pause. "I've scanned as far as I can and I don't think there are any obstructions. It's going to be tricky, though. Starscream, is your anti-grav working at all?"

"No," said Starscream. Silverbolt picked up something else in his field, an evasion of some sort, but he didn't think Starscream was lying about the anti-grav. "You'll never transform in here. There isn't enough room."

"I'm not going to transform. I can manage it in root mode, if we go straight up."

The explosion of sheer horror in Starscream's field shook Silverbolt's faith in Skyfire despite himself. He glanced out at the void, then back at his friend. He'd seen Skyfire fly with his jets in root mode. It was a haphazard, ungainly flight at best, with no fine control and no failsafes if something went wrong.

"No, no, no," Starscream was saying, voice rising in pitch. "I won't do it! You'll crash into the wall! You'll hit something! You'll misjudge the speed and overshoot at the top!"

Skyfire barely glanced at Starscream. All his attention was on Silverbolt.

"I won't let you fall," he said, and Silverbolt knew exactly why he'd chosen those words, was back instantly in that moment they'd met - well, collided - and how easily Skyfire had reassured him, how completely he had understood.

Silverbolt nodded, pushing fear down until it was just a distant echo in his spark. Starscream started to struggle; Silverbolt snapped over his shoulder, "We can still leave you behind, you know."

Then he turned to Skyfire. "Okay. Come on. Let's do it before I change my mind."

"I'll need you to help me with my wings again."

It was quicker that time, now that Silverbolt knew what to do, but reversing the switch took more power than before. The electricity scorched his fingertips painfully and left them blackened, but Silverbolt hid the discomfort from Skyfire. He was uncomfortably aware that he hadn't managed to hide it from Starscream.

Skyfire swung himself out again over the void. Then he held out his spare hand, and for a moment Silverbolt thought he wouldn't be able to do it, couldn't step up to that edge and trust himself to Skyfire.

Starscream had a death grip on his vents. For a moment neither of them were keeping their fields in check, and Silverbolt realised, before Starscream could cover it, that if this choice were his, he would never put himself into Skyfire's hands. He would scream and fight and try to find another way. Maybe Skyfire would make him, in the end. But Starscream would never take that leap of faith.

Silverbolt steadied himself, stepped forward, and took Skyfire's hand, pretending there wasn't a chasm beneath them, pretending this was as simple as latching onto Skyfire the way Fireflight so merrily did. Skyfire grasped him firmly and showed him how to hang on, found him handholds above his cockpit, then put that arm around him - around Starscream, too, but Starscream might as well not even be there just then. Silverbolt focused on Skyfire's face, drawing reassurance from how calm he was, and told himself he'd be ready in just a moment--

Without any warning at all, not even a flicker in his field, Skyfire jumped.

Silverbolt had a choice between trying to master his panic and simply blocking it out. He chose the latter, cutting input from his optics and audio receptors simultaneously and praying that Skyfire would think to use the comms if he needed to tell Silverbolt anything in a hurry. He clung on for dear life, trying to think of nothing but his handholds on Skyfire's plating as his gyros screamed that they were falling. He felt Skyfire's jets fire and the jerk of weight returning as they shot upwards. He forced himself not to recall his glimpses of the Rust Pit from above, forced himself not to try and calculate their speed or angle, forced himself to trust completely in Skyfire's skill.

He'd almost forgotten Starscream, but a painful pressure on one wing reminded him that the Seeker was still clinging on behind. Silverbolt wondered if he was shouting but didn't turn his audio receptors back on to find out. He doubted it would be anything he wanted to hear.

Skyfire's upward course swung sideways suddenly, shifting their weight so that Silverbolt had to move his hands to adjust. He brushed broken plexiglass and all at once remembered the damage to Skyfire's cockpit. His optics flashed online without any conscious choice, checking to make sure he wasn't hurting Skyfire--

He had a dizzying glimpse of the upper towers of Cybertron swinging around them as Skyfire steered with grim determination on the blast of his jets, now cutting them out so that he dropped a dozen lengths, now blasting again to slow them. Silverbolt couldn't see the Rust Pit, could only see the hundreds of towers and spires jutting upwards as if waiting to impale them. Then Skyfire cut his jets again, plummeting downwards, and Silverbolt caught sight of the plaza they'd originally landed on. They were coming down too fast, his gyros seemed to turn upside down, and he forced his optics off again and braced himself for the crash--

Skyfire fired his jets, cut them, fired them again, slowing down as he descended, but they were still going too fast for anything like an elegant landing when they hit the plaza.

Warned by the cold-shock of anticipation in Skyfire's field, Silverbolt had his optics and audio receptors back online a second before they hit. He was able to throw out his hands to save himself as Skyfire came crashing down on one side. They skidded a couple of metres across the plaza and came to a halt, Silverbolt sprawled over Skyfire and too dazed to do more than thank Primus fervently that it hadn't been worse.

Two things hit him at once - the sound of a transformation and the awareness that Starscream was no longer hanging onto his back. Silverbolt rolled clumsily to his knees in time to see the Seeker shoot past them across the plaza and then swing skywards. His form was not as streamlined as usual - he must have had to force his legs to transform in the same way Skyfire had with his wings - but the gaping hole in his wing should have stopped him even getting off the ground. He certainly had trouble, limping into the air with about as much grace as a wounded elephant.

Silverbolt ran forward, meaning to transform and go after him - but he was stopped by Skyfire grabbing at his arm and pulling him back.

"Don't," he said. "Please. Just let him go."

"We can't just--"

The words died as he saw the energon pooling beneath Skyfire and the paleness of his optics. Dropping to his knees, Silverbolt quickly found the leak, one of the big hydraulics in Skyfire's leg, either torn open by the impact or reopened from the earlier fall. He worked quickly to stem the flow using the most basic first aid techniques. Skyfire wouldn't be able to use that leg until he got it properly fixed, but at least he wouldn't lose any more energon.

Only then did he turn his scanners upwards, half-convinced Starscream would circle back for some crazy last-ditch attack run - but the skies were clear. Clear, and full of stars. The sight was such a relief after the hours trapped below the surface that Silverbolt just stared for a few seconds.

Skyfire took his hand. "Can we get through to the base now?"

"Hang on." Silverbolt tried to open a channel; his spark soared when Iacon acknowledged. "The others are already on their way."

Skyfire nodded, and leaned sideways to rest his head against Silverbolt's shoulder.

"He must have had expanding sealant or something to put on his wing," he said.

Silverbolt felt the exhaustion in him then - not just physical. Something more fundamental. He didn't know what to say, so in the end, they sat in silence until help arrived.

The routine was familiar, even if some of the faces were different. His brothers were relieved to find them safe and solicitous in helping get them back to base. The med bay was staffed by unfamiliar medics, but they got Skyfire patched up skillfully enough that Silverbolt stopped worrying. His own scrapes and minor damage were quickly taken care of.

He left Skyfire having his cockpit carefully repaired - back on Earth he'd have had to put up with temporary plating until Ratchet had time to fit the plexiglass, but here they had the resources to do it almost at once - and took himself off to report to Ultra Magnus. He'd been braced for recrimination, especially when he got onto reporting Starscream's part in everything, but Ultra Magnus showed a surprising lack of, well, surprise.

"It's lucky in a way that he was there when you arrived," he said. "You might not have discovered the power source otherwise."

And then the Decepticons might have started the converter up, unaware or uncaring of its awful cost. Silverbolt shuddered, and went on with his report.

Ultra Magnus asked more questions than Optimus Prime would have. Optimus tended to seek a broad impression in the initial debrief and then expect more detail in the written report. Magnus went over every point in person, making his own notes, presumably to compare with the report later on.

When Silverbolt finally escaped, he went to the med bay, where they told him Skyfire had left with his brothers some time ago, and then to the communal area, where Blurr helpfully directed him towards the guest quarters. Silverbolt found his brothers gathered in Air Raid's room watching something on the vid screen with rapt fascination, but Skyfire wasn't among them.

"He said he was tired," Fireflight told Silverbolt. "Come and watch this, it's some sort of old flight competition and Skydive thinks we could do some of it..."

Silverbolt hesitated, because he knew his brothers wanted reassurance that he was back safely, and would take the reassurance most easily from dragging him into their midst and sharing field contact and body warmth for a few hours. And he wanted it too, wanted to be drawn into that wordless sympathy without having to try and explain in words the chaotic emotions vying for first place in his spark.

He also wanted quite badly to recharge, which was the excuse he gave them for leaving, but then he found himself standing outside Skyfire's door, unable to go on past. Skyfire probably was asleep, he told himself. He'd been injured none too trivially and used a lot of fuel carrying Silverbolt - (and Starscream, his treacherous mind reminded him) - out of the pit.

Silverbolt hesitated for a few more seconds, then pressed the intercom. After a moment, he heard Skyfire say, "Yes?"

"Just me."

There was a pause, and Silverbolt thought maybe Skyfire was going to turn him away - but the door slid open, and he stepped into the dimness within.

Skyfire was reclining on the berth, a datapad in hand, but Silverbolt didn't think he'd been reading it. His smile was tired and just hesitant enough to tell Silverbolt he'd been right to come.

He crossed the room briskly. There was a chair next to the window, but he opted to hop onto the berth next to Skyfire - it was big enough to accommodate them both easily.

"How are you feeling?"

He reached out to touch the new glass in Skyfire's cockpit, reassuring himself that it was whole again. Skyfire dropped the datapad on a shelf and took Silverbolt's hand in his own.

"I'm okay. Some of the welds are still settling but I'm mostly just tired."

Silverbolt twined their fingers together absently, looking Skyfire over to double check with his own optics that he was in good repair. The marks of the gashes on his face were dark with silverskin that hadn't yet formed a homogenous surface, but they would fade quickly. His wing was fixed and the scrapes had been buffed out of his plating. It was, Silverbolt had to admit, a better job than he would have received on Earth, though not for lack of skill - Ratchet simply didn't have the resources on offer in this base.

There were things he needed to ask Skyfire, about that control room and the others like it, what danger he and Starscream had seen in it - but he decided they could wait. Ultra Magnus didn't need his full report until the next shift. Just now, he had more important concerns.

"Are you okay?" he asked - and they both knew he wasn't talking about the physical damage.

Skyfire said nothing for a few seconds. Then, all at once and as if he'd made up his mind in a rush, "No, I don't think I am, actually."

Silverbolt felt the waver in his field, grief and pain and a bright thread of anger - at the universe, at Starscream, at himself - and with it a wash of fear, that thinking about this, dealing with it at all, would overwhelm him.

Silverbolt tightened his grip on Skyfire's hand and shifted closer, felt Skyfire's wing behind his shoulders and the warmth of his systems, let his field relax into Skyfire's with as much reassurance and sympathy as he could signal. Skyfire turned slightly towards him, one arm coming up to draw him close, and Silverbolt found his head resting naturally against Skyfire's shoulder.

"You're allowed to, you know," Silverbolt said. "Be... not okay, I mean."

"I suppose so." Skyfire sounded like he didn't really believe it, his field still full of self-recrimination and sadness. "In a way it's been easier just shooting at him all this time."

"It must be hard seeing him so different."

"Different?" Skyfire gave an odd almost-laugh, a bitter sound. "No, that's not it. The awful thing is that he isn't any different from how he was, not really. Crueller, maybe. More violent. Or maybe just more willing to act those impulses. No, Starscream was always... Starscream. I just... used to be able to find ways to excuse it." A pause, and then, striving for lightness and not quite making it, "I'm starting to wonder if I ever really liked him."

"But you loved him."

Skyfire jerked as if he'd been struck, and Silverbolt felt the ripples of dismay and guilt go through his field like a thunderclap.

"It's okay," Silverbolt said. "It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

Silverbolt almost laughed in sheer exasperation, because Skyfire sounded like he wasn't sure - like he'd expected Silverbolt to change his mind, after this, after seeing him interact with Starscream, after guessing the truth about their past.

He put his hand against Skyfire's face, careful of the dark lines that had been wounds, brushed one thumb over his cheek. Skyfire turned towards him, optics on his, reading his expression and his field, seeking reassurance. Silverbolt gave it wordlessly and passionately, and felt Skyfire shiver, and slowly relax. Silverbolt stroked his cheek again - and then, with his spark hot and nervous and his mind completely made up, he leaned forward and kissed him.

Skyfire made a wordless noise and pulled him closer, kissing back with an urgency that Silverbolt hadn't expected, somehow - not that he was complaining as Skyfire's arms went around him and he found himself clinging on tightly in return. He knew he was clumsy and overeager, but he couldn't have helped himself if he tried. He wanted Skyfire, had done for so long, unspoken, and feeling the swell of an equal longing from Skyfire's field was overwhelming and exhilirating.

Silverbolt had started it, but Skyfire took control now, showing Silverbolt what this could be like. He explored Silverbolt's mouth with a thoroughness and insistence that left Silverbolt feeling weak at the knees and very glad they were already lying down. Then Skyfire paused to suck on his lower lip, and Silverbolt moaned aloud before he could stop himself.

Any embarrassment he felt was quickly thrust aside by the reaction he got from Skyfire - the rush of cooling fans and flare of desire in his field, the way he paused for a moment, resting his forehead against Silverbolt's as though to regain control, and then how he brought their mouths crashing together with renewed need.

Primus! Silverbolt had been sure - mostly sure - that Skyfire felt the same way he did, but he had hardly dared believe he could have such an effect on his friend. Eager to find out what else he could do with this new-found power, he let his hands wander. There were places on Skyfire's armour that he knew were sensitive from accidental touches - now the touching was entirely deliberate, and the response everything he could have asked for, as Skyfire shuddered under his fingertips. Skyfire retaliated by moving his hands down to Silverbolt's wings; Silverbolt wasn't sure of his intentions until he took the long, slender, sensitive elevons between finger and thumb and began working with exquisite slowness down their length.

Silverbolt had to break the kiss then gasp and draw in air through his vents to cool his overheated systems. Skyfire pressed a kiss against his helm, oddly chaste and heartbreakingly tender, and Silverbolt whispered his name even as the sensations from his wings, under Skyfire's skilfull hands, made him offline his optics and arch pleadingly into the touch.

"Silverbolt..."

Skyfire seemed to have difficulty getting his name out. He let go of Silverbolt's wings, and at that Silverbolt let out a soft, wordless protest without meaning to. He felt a puff of laughter against his cheek and reluctantly onlined his optics. Skyfire was looking at him from close enough to kiss, optics bright and warm, and yet hesitation in his field.

"I don't..." he started, stopped, went ahead, "I don't want to rush anything."

Silverbolt stared at him blankly. Then he had to stifle laughter, the kind of helpless hilarity that would have him unable to speak if he let it out.

"Rush?" he demanded incredulously. "Do you have any idea how long I've..."

He stopped, because the truth was he couldn't put a time on it, or mark out any single moment when his feelings had changed, or when he'd realised what they really were, or whatever. It had just been a long, gradual process, one that had started at the moment Skyfire had caught him falling out of the sky, one that he couldn't have stopped if he'd tried.

But Skyfire knew; the hesitation was already vanishing, his smile warm and a little sheepish.

"About as long as I have, maybe?" he said, and he didn't need to put a time on that any more than Silverbolt did; it had been happening for as long as they'd known each other.

Silverbolt took advantage of the pause to push Skyfire over onto his back, smiling at his surprised expression. He settled in draped over Skyfire's chest, revelling in the warmth of him and coveting the quick hitch of systems and the way his optics flared. He also took a moment to deliberately and carefully dampen his connection to his brothers - this wasn't something he wanted them to pick up through the bond.

Then he set himself to explore, slowly and thoroughly, indulging both curiosity and desire. He mapped out the seams that were sensitive to touch, and clusters of sensor nodes that made Skyfire arch up under him. Skyfire was hardly passive - he took Silverbolt's wings in his hands again and several times brought him to the point of wordless pleading, before easing off. And in between were more kisses, getting more urgent and less refined as their energy levels entwined tighter and their touches grew bolder.

Silverbolt had never felt the way he felt when Skyfire touched him - never in this life, at least. He had all the knowledge of interfacing he could need, gifted him by Vector Sigma, all the cold details of how and why and what, and behind that he had a spark-memory that he had done this - that it wasn't an utterly unfamiliar situation.

But it was no real preparation for the sensations Skyfire could evoke in both his body and his spark - not just the touch of skilled hands on his plating, but the intense field contact that was an order of magnitude different from anything they'd shared before. Silverbolt was giddy with it, wanting more, and nervous as well, afraid he wasn't giving as good as he got. But they were deep enough into each other's fields that Skyfire caught that fear and refuted it utterly, opening himself wider to let Silverbolt feel what he was feeling. Silverbolt heard himself make a sound of some sort, maybe Skyfire's name, but whatever it was, it made Skyfire clutch at him with something close to desperation and kiss him until he could barely think.

Little arcs of electricity were passing between them, tiny shocks that only intensified the physical sensations, and Silverbolt felt his field syncing with Skyfire's in a way that was nothing like the resonance he shared with his brothers. He knew they could overload together like this, that it was entirely normal to do so and would be entirely mutually satisfying - but he was used to sharing his spark with four other mechs and he wanted more than just field contact.

He'd only ever opened his spark chamber for medical examinations. Then it was awkward, a little painful, and terribly vulnerable - right now it was as easy as falling and he realised he had been unconsciously keeping it closed against the instinctive desire to open it.

Suddenly something was wrong in Skyfire's field, a discordant riot of emotion that was too complex to pin a name on. His hand came up to Silverbolt's chest, pressing against the plating that had begun to slide apart, preventing it from moving further.

"Don't."

Silverbolt stared down into his expression, that had been just a moment ago blissful and eager, and was now taut with reluctance and anxiety.

"Why not?"

"I don't... like to do that."

Silverbolt tried to hide his own dismay, but he knew they were too entwined for Skyfire to miss it. He felt the flinch of guilt in return, and pain, and something much deeper and darker, going back far beyond this moment, something Silverbolt could not reach even bound up with Skyfire as he was.

Slowly, consciously overriding instinct, Silverbolt forced his chest plate to close again. His spark felt too large for its case, desperate to reach out to Skyfire's, and try as he might, he couldn't suppress the hurt of the rejection. Again he felt Skyfire ache with guilt. He reached up to cradle Silverbolt's face in both hands, wordless apology written all over his face along with a plea for understanding.

Silverbolt leaned down to kiss him, deep and long, pushing his own reactions as far away from the present moment as he could, to deal with later. He'd been too eager, he told himself, maybe it was possible for them to rush some things after all. Not everyone chose to share their spark with their partner, he knew. It was perfectly normal to interface without it, even in long-term relationships. Regular spark sharing led to bonding: not everyone wanted that. And not everyone was comfortable opening themselves up completely to someone else, even someone they loved.

Silverbolt knew that. But he had thought Skyfire would want it as badly as he did.

He pushed it away and concentrated on persuading Skyfire to do the same, kissing him until the guilt ebbed and they were reacting to each other as they had been before, caught up in each other's fields and tangled around each other's bodies. This time he didn't let the shivery, urgent heat in his spark trigger the opening of his chest plate, just let it build and ripple through his body, and felt the same reaction from Skyfire.

It happened suddenly, even though Silverbolt was expecting it - one moment he was caught in the swell of heat and energy, building towards a peak, and the next he was over the edge, and out of control. He heard himself cry out and was helpless to stay silent, but in the midst of ecstasy he was aware with aching joy of Skyfire beneath him, caught in the same moment of release. Nothing mattered then except how wonderful it felt, how close they were, and how tightly they clung to each other.

When Silverbolt was in a position to think clearly again, he found he was draped over Skyfire with languid abandon. His systems had calmed; his field was relaxed and still mingling pleasantly with Skyfire's. Skyfire was stroking his wing in a dazed sort of way, not really aware he was doing it, and Silverbolt felt a swell of smug pride at the lack of co-ordination in his movements. I did that.

He lifted his head from its comfortable resting place against Skyfire's shoulder, and kissed him just to feel the ripple of reaction go through both of their fields. Then Skyfire was kissing him back, more alert now and eager to hold him close and luxuriate in their shared joy.

When Silverbolt shifted to one side, settling onto the berth, though still in Skyfire's arms and pressed close, a shadow came back into Skyfire's field.

"I'm sorry," he started to say. Silverbolt pressed a finger to his lips.

"It's okay," he said, and tried to mean it. He almost did mean it. He was warm and happy, giddy with joy at what he'd shared with Skyfire. Shouldn't that be enough for anyone? "Can I stay here?"

"I was hoping you would."

Silverbolt could feel himself edging closer to recharge. Skyfire's hand was on his wing again, but now it was soothing. The confusion and strain of their long trek through the darkness seemed a world away. Skyfire shifted slightly, getting comfortable, then paused as a thought seemed to strike him.

"If your brothers come looking for you..."

"We've got a few hours at least," Silverbolt replied sleepily. "They found the video library. They've got at least four people's choices to get through."

But thinking of his brothers did raise a question he didn't really want to answer: how were they going to react to this? They'd find out sooner or later. Even Slingshot seemed to accept Skyfire as a friend these days, but he still wasn't one of them. Silverbolt was afraid this new aspect of their relationship might not go down well among his occasionally possessive brothers.

He pushed the thoughts away, just as he pushed away the doubt that was trying to creep into his spark - the hurt of Skyfire's rejection returning as he wondered what he'd done wrong. He wouldn't let himself think about it. There would be time to talk about it later. He was sure they would come to an understanding. He was sure it would work out okay.

He wasn't sure enough to drift straight off to sleep though, no matter how tired he was. And as he listened to Skyfire's systems settling into the rhythm of recharge, he let himself think about Starscream, just for a few seconds - just long enough to hate him.

Chapter Text

It was an odd conference - or debrief, Silverbolt wasn't sure which - with half the participants present only on the large panel screen Ultra Magnus had set up at one end of the table. It was odd in more than that; no-one was entirely certain what they were here to talk about. The meeting had come about through a general feeling, shared by all of them, that there was something on Cybertron that needed their attention.

The only problem was that none of them really knew what.

It was somewhat intimidating to face Optimus Prime, Jazz, and Prowl lined up alongside each other in neat squares on the screen, but then there was Perceptor alongside them, by Skyfire's request, and Ironhide, on Optimus's suggestion, both of whom served to alleviate the sense of scrutiny from the Autobots' leaders. And in the room on Cybertron itself, in addition to Ultra Magnus, Silverbolt, and Skyfire, there was Kup, who had been brought in for much the same reason as Ironhide - "because I'm old enough to tell them a thing or two, that's why," in his own words.

Skyfire had been speaking for some time. He was relating in detail their discovery of the old control room beneath Vos. Silverbolt had reassured him beforehand that he needn't spend any time explaining or justifying their presence there; the report had been submitted and everyone who needed to know already did. Skyfire had taken him at his word; everything he said was focused tightly on the control room and their actions therein.

He could hardly avoid mentioning Starscream, much as he would have liked to. And much as Silverbolt would have been happy to leave that part out, there was no denying that it had to be accounted for. Information and theories based on Starscream's opinions were inherently suspect; it was necessary to distinguish between what Skyfire himself had observed and what he had heard or deduced from his one-time partner.

The 'bots present were tactful, Silverbolt was relieved to note - and he saw a depth of sympathy on Perceptor's face that reminded him of Skyfire's casual acknowledgement of how long they had known each other.

"Remind me," Optimus was saying, "what were the arguments? I have a vague recollection, but over time the discussion became less... relevant, I suppose, to our daily survival."

Silverbolt hurriedly reviewed the conversation up until that point. They had begun talking about theories of Cybertronian origin...

"Organic evolution, mechanical evolution, and creation theory in two forms," Skyfire replied succinctly. "The first theory was that we had started our existence as organic life, and our distant ancestors had found a way to create mechanical bodies. It was deemed scientifically possible, but we have never been able to prove that a spark could be created from an organic life form. It also calls into question Vector Sigma's function and ability to create new life - but I digress. The second theory was that Cybertronian life had 'evolved', as it were, from mechanical parts, possibly discarded by some other race, or even naturally occurring--"

"Largely discredited," Perceptor put in. "And damnably with a series of papers shortly after you left Cybertron."

"Ah, I didn't know that. Not that it was very credible to begin with." Skyfire shared a glance with Perceptor that Silverbolt had come to recognise as 'scientist in-joke'. "The third theory posited that we were created intentionally by some other being - and that was where it split along two lines. One argument holds that we are the creations of some unknown organic race - the other that we were created directly by Primus."

"Wasn't there trouble over that?" Kup frowned, glanced at Ironhide and Skyfire for confrimation. "Buncha religious types, called themselves the InterSect..."

"Yeah, they were the sorta template for the Decepticons," Ironhide said. "Big on conquering the rest o' the universe in Primus's name."

"It was before my time," Skyfire admitted. "But I know enough about them through the knock-on effect they had on research into the creationist theories. For a long time it was deemed unscientific to even contemplate the idea of an independent creator, Primus or otherwise. When..." he hesitated, then visibly forced himself to continue. Silverbolt couldn't reach out and touch him, but he kept his optics on Skyfire's face, lending what support he could. "When Starscream and I first saw some of the ancient architecture vorns ago, he was convinced that it was created by another race. And I was inclined - am still inclined - to agree with him, not least because he hated the idea so very much. If he was willing to entertain it anyway, he must have had good reason - and he has always had a talent for picking out the shape of a theory around scanty evidence."

"That is certainly true," murmured Perceptor, and Silverbolt realised with a jolt that he must have known Starscream back then as well - maybe he'd even worked with him.

"Which is where this control room comes in?" Jazz leaned forward on his display, obviously looking at something out of shot - maybe a datapad or another screen. "You said Starscream thought it was set up to pump data out on command."

"Yes." Skyfire looked down at the table top. "I didn't have time to verify that claim, but..."

"But it's kinda unsettlin', you might say." Jazz hummed to himself thoughtfully. "Assumin' he was tellin' the truth - and that's one Pit of a thing to assume - it sounds like whoever left it there was plannin' on come back."

"If so, they are long overdue," Optimus put in. "And if an organic race - is it not possible that whoever they were, these hypothetical creators of ours, they might have become extinct themselves?"

"It's entirely possible, maybe even likely," Perceptor said, cutting off something Skyfire had begun to say. He shot an apologetic glance at his friend, and Skyfire shook his head, gesturing for him to go on. "Our lifespan, as mechanical beings, is far in excess of any organic species we have discovered. Not to mention that before the war, we were only beginning to find evidence of organic intelligence in our sector of the galaxy - there were people who believed it a physical impossibility. But there was also a theory, based on data in the oldest records, that organic evolution goes in cycles - and that in all the depth of the galaxy, there were likely to be countless pools of life moving at a different pace. Those who were willing to consider the idea of organic creators - or an organic origin for our species - speculated that they had deliberately left behind one such populous cluster, and sought out a sector of the galaxy where no organic life had yet evolved to sufficient levels to provide a rivalry for resources."

"But there is some evidence that these unknown predecessors planned ahead on a scale we would find familiar," Skyfire went on. "Vector Sigma, Cybertron itself, these control rooms - they were designed to be self-sustaining and self-repairing in ways we have never completely examined. The control room I saw with my own optics was fully functional and actively monitoring the planet. I would not have called it a piece of engineering that had accidentally outlasted its time, but one which was specifically designed to endure for that long."

There was a brief silence as they contemplated that statement. Perceptor was looking down at something, frowning, and Silverbolt had the impression he was typing quickly.

"So," Optimus said at length, "we must acknowledge the possibility of a race - an unknown race of unknown power - which may consider it has some claim on Cybertron, and may in the future attempt to exert that claim. But it has not done so yet - even when the planet was shut down and defenceless. That strikes me as strange."

"Don't forget that we are now a long way from the path Cybertron travelled before the war," Prowl said. He had been mostly silent, listening to the scientists without comment. "For a long time our planet was on a set course through a score of solar systems in one small sub-sector of the galactic arm. That changed during the war, as we attempted to find better sources of energy - and, of course, since Megatron's stunt some years ago, Cybertron is now in the neighbourhood of Earth's solar system and wandering further towards the galactic hub with every moment. They may simply have been unable to find us."

There was another pause.

"Is this a credible threat?" Ultra Magnus asked at last. "With all we have to deal with - the Decepticons, Earth, re-energising the planet - do we have the resources to take this into account?"

"We have gone hundreds of thousands of vorns without sight or sound of any precursors," Prowl said - though not quite as an agreement. It was more a statement of fact, thrown out there to be considered from either side. "The laws of probability suggest that we are no more likely to encounter them now we know of the possibility than we were before."

"Yeah, sure, I hear there's some guy called Murphy might liketa have a word with you 'bout that," Jazz muttered. Silverbolt understood the reference and hid a smile. Prowl ignored the comment with the ease of long practice.

"It seems to me," Optimus said slowly, "that we would be foolish to ignore the possibility completely. Skyfire, Perceptor - do you know of any other locations such as this control room, which we might be able to study?"

"Not for certain," Skyfire replied after looking at Perceptor for confirmation. "I can recall the route of the original expedition I was on - where Starscream said he returned later - but it was near Praxus, which I understand was devastated during the war."

"Indeed. I would not expect the landscape to resemble your original maps any longer."

"Then no. There are presumably more of them - but where, I couldn't say. We might be able to speculate on a pattern of locations, but it would be guesswork at best..."

"There is one other thing," said Silverbolt. He had been turning the idea over in his processor for a while now, listening to what the others said. As their attention turned on him, he went on, "We're treating this as a threat. Starscream certainly saw it as one. But maybe that means we should consider the opposite? If there was a race that created us - and if they are as advanced, or more, than we are - might they ally with us to win the war and re-energise the planet?"

They were all staring at him, rather startled - and Optimus Prime finally chuckled, shaking his head.

"That is what vorns of war does to us," he said. "We treat all possibilities as dangerous. You are right, Silverbolt - though I must say I would not choose to count on it."

The discussion after that lost some of its tension, steering away from threat assessment and into the realms of speculation. Silverbolt said little, letting his thoughts drift. He understood the need for this meeting, but he was beginning to tire of it. Especially since he and Skyfire were technically supposed to be on downtime right now - they’d had to pull a couple of extra hours on duty to match up with the Ark shift patterns. If there was some great, unknown threat out there, they couldn’t do much more than be aware of the possibility for now.

Skyfire caught his optics across the table, the smile tugging at his mouth attesting that he was as ready to get away from the briefing table as Silverbolt was. The way his gaze lingered for a moment on Silverbolt’s mouth set Silverbolt’s spark pulsing pleasantly. He suspected they both had quite similar ideas about how to spend the next few hours of their downtime. He glanced down at his datapad to hide a smile, and settled back to wait patiently for the meeting to be over.

Maybe, if they were lucky, they would even get a day or two of quiet before the next crisis.
*
To Silverbolt's surprise, they got more than a day or two. His usual definition of 'quiet' on Earth was going three straight shifts without trouble, but two weeks after their misadventure below Vos, he was beginning to understand that Optimus really had meant this to be a vacation for them.

Of course, there had been the expedition back to the site of the reactor, with the intention of destroying anything that was left. They'd found the place a smoking wreck. The plaza Silverbolt remembered landing on was in pieces, the buildings beaten down to ruin; their sensors reported such high levels of various kinds of radiation that they'd veered off and kept their distance. The Decepticons had been swifter, and even Ultra Magnus, who tended towards a quite justified paranoia, believed that they hadn't stopped to pick up samples on the way.

"It seems strange to think of Megatron agreeing with us on this one," Silverbolt had said to Skyfire, after their return, and after they'd slipped away from the others for a while.

"Don't give him too much credit." Skyfire had led him to a part of the base he'd recently discovered, a great theatre hall decorated with murals of Cybertronian art. Silverbolt couldn't stop looking at them, enthralled by the level of detail and the tiny narratives captured by the figures in the packed crowd scenes. "He sees Vector Sigma as a source for new soldiers, a resource to be taken full advantage of. The Decepticons are collecting enough energy now for it to be a ludicrous exchange, giving up living sparks for power. He might have acted differently had he found it in full working order just before the launch of the Ark..."

Silverbolt had shuddered to hard that Skyfire had come up behind him and put his arms around him, apology plain in his field. He didn't say anything about Starscream, leaving Silverbolt to put his own observations together: that after the initial, instinctive shock had passed, Starscream would almost certainly have decided that those other souls were of no use to him and fired up the plant. Skyfire had been surprised that Starscream agreed so readily to destroy the lower levels. Silverbolt had thought at the time it was just because of the Seeker's contrary nature, but he was beginning to realise that in Skyfire's mind, the threat of this technology getting into Decepticon hands began and ended with Starscream.

But that had been that. The power plant was gone. The Decepticons had made no follow-up attack on Iacon. And quiet - something that might almost be mistaken for peace - had descended.

It wasn't like the lulls they'd experienced on Earth, fraught with tension and anticipation of the next strike. The sensor networks on Cybertron were extensive enough to give advance warning of any attack on Iacon, and there were no frail humans here who needed defending in any other strikes. Periodically, Ultra Magnus would call meetings to go over any data on the Decepticons' activity around the other side of the planet, and Silverbolt reported in to Optimus Prime via vidlink on a regular schedule, but other than that, it was a waiting game.

They flew one or two exploration runs. Nothing untoward happened, except for Fireflight getting lost, which had already become a regular enough occurrence up here that even the Iacon 'bots took it as the natural state of affairs. (At one point he'd been found wandering forlornly through the sub-basement, convinced he'd travelled so far he was almost at Kaon. Silverbolt had loaded all the maps he could find onto Fireflight's datapads and Skyfire had taught him some of the basic division marks. Two days later he commed them pathetically from two cities away and had to be retrieved from a burnt-out administrative tower surrounded by deep canyons. Somehow he’d walked there while looking for the tertiary rec room in the Iacon base. No-one had yet figured out how.)

It was the same kind of mission today - just go and check out some readings Blurr had brought back, see what was up - except Silverbolt had made a decision, and left Skyfire behind.

(Skyfire didn't mind. He'd found some ungodly behemoth mechanism that he claimed could be plugged into the Ark's energon supply to improve its quality, and his quarters were now covered in dusty metal parts. Silverbolt had left him in the middle of a pitched battle with three circuit boards and a rat's nest of wires. Skyfire had not been winning.)

It wasn't exactly that Silverbolt felt guilty. Except, okay, he did feel guilty and he was irrationally angry at himself for it. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend time with Skyfire alone, and he'd made sure he wasn't neglecting his brothers, and there was no reason he had to come out and tell them about the new side to their relationship when it was something private between the two of them...

That was the heart of it, of course. He wanted to keep this for himself for as long as possible, treasure it and delight in it and have it for his own. He didn't want his brothers asking their endless questions, or teasing him, or hassling Skyfire. He didn't want to undo all the progress they'd made in accepting Skyfire into their group. But mostly, he just didn't want to share right now.

It was making him feel like a terrible person.

So it was just the the five of them heading out today. Fireflight had already almost been left behind when he'd paused to circle over an interesting bit of architecture, and Skydive and Air Raid had only reluctantly obeyed an order not to race down the long canyon that was going in almost the same direction they were, but the overall mood was cheerful.

And it wasn't an overly taxing mission. They were heading into what had once been the city-state of Praxus, not far from Iacon and far enough from Decepticon territory to be considered safe. They were to fly over a certain sector of the city and compare it to aerial images taken before the Ark had departed to see what had changed in the millions of years that had passed. Anywhere else in the universe, it would have been a ridiculous proposition - the site of the Ark's landing on Earth, for example, was unrecognisable after all that time - but Cybertron changed very slowly, protected from any organic forces of weathering or decay, affected only by its inhabitants' actions.

They'd been flying in companionable silence, but when Silverbolt notified them that they'd passed the borders of Praxus, Air Raid kept the group channel open.

:Hey, Silverbolt, I heard that they've started putting the walls up on AC,: he said, using the abbreviation out of habit, even when there was little chance of being overheard. :Is that true?:

:Where'd you hear that?:

:Blurr told me.:

:He ought to mute his vocaliser.: Silverbolt considered this. :If that's physically possible. But yes, they're working on the perimeter walls now. By the time we get back, Hound's holograms won't be able to hide it any more.:

:You think we ought to head back sooner?: Air Raid asked, and Silverbolt was surprised by the note of something like homesickness in his voice.

:We're only here another three weeks,: he said. :Are you guys tired of Cybertron?:

There was a vague murmur of not-quite-dissent. Silverbolt got the sense that they were still curious, intrigued by the strange planet that was their inherited ambition, but that the cold and dark of the place were getting to them. He didn't find it especially comforting himself - but he'd been so busy with Skyfire, he'd hardly had time to think about it.

A different flavour of guilt skewered him. Maybe he hadn't been as careful not to neglect his gestalt brothers as he'd hoped.

:I'll bring it up next time I speak to Prime,: he promised them, and was rewarded with renewed cheeriness.

:That's weird.: Fireflight broke off and began to circle downward. :This whole bit is way flatter than--:

:Fireflight! Remember how we're going to notice any differences and then come back through and look at them after the first sweep?:

:Oh, right.: Fireflight reluctantly rejoined them.

They completed the first sweep without further mishap. In addition to Fireflight's "flatter bit", Air Raid spotted a canyon where none had been in the pictures, and Slingshot insisted they needed to look closer at something that was "too tidy".

Fireflight's find was, in Skydive's opinion, clusterbomb damage from a long time ago, and Silverbolt agreed that it was that or a meteor strike - nothing to concern them. Air Raid's canyon turned out to have been in the pictures after all, it had just been obscured by some sort of dust cloud at the time they were taken.

They all thought Slingshot had just made something up to join in, until they were circling an unremarkable warehouse building that was, indeed, just too tidy.

The main doors were clear. The roof and walls were whole. The windows were neatly shuttered. There was an unobtrusive empty space just in front of it that would do nicely as a landing strip. It looked, in short, like it was still in use.

:See?: said Slingshot, feathers ruffled by the teasing he'd had from the others.

:Yes, I see.: Silverbolt dipped down to take a closer look. :You're right, Slingshot. Good call. Come on, let's check it out.:

He banked towards the landing strip, feeling more than seeing the others fall into a rough line behind him. It occurred to him that grounding the whole team might be a mistake. They could find themselves pinned, the same way the Seekers had caught them that time in the canyons on Earth. On the other hand, if he left one or even two of his brothers in the air, they would present a more vulnerable target to any Decepticons who chanced by this sector. Silverbolt weighed the options and decided that the chances of an ambush were low; he would prefer to keep the team together.

He sent a brief comm back to Iacon, reporting their co-ordinates and situation, and received an acknowledgement just as he touched down. He transformed and got out of the way for his brothers' landings.

"Doesn't look like much," said Air Raid doubtfully.

"It looks like enough," Silverbolt replied. "Anyone getting any indication it's occupied?"

A series of negatives, agreeing with his own assessment.

"Then we'll try the front door first. No point in making it more complicated than it needs to be."

The front door was locked, but only with a basic code. The electronic lockpick Ultra Magnus had given them opened it in seconds. Silverbolt spotted the delighted expression on Air Raid's face, and made a mental note to make sure the gadget remained on Cybertron when they returned to Earth.

And inside the warehouse was... nothing, if you didn't count the small but significant pile of energon cubes.

The Aerialbots halted as a group just inside the doorway.

"Okay," said Air Raid after a moment, "that's too easy."

"Definitely." Silverbolt threw out an arm to prevent anyone moving forward, and was rather gratified that none of them tried. "Skydive, get the scanner out."

They all had the ability to run scans of various kinds, but the handheld device Skydive pulled out of subspace was specialised for counter-espionage. Skyfire had been teaching Silverbolt to use it just before they left Earth, but Skydive had happened into one of their lessons and been so utterly fascinated that Silverbolt had let him take over. Since they’d arrived on Cybertron he’d become proficient enough that Silverbolt felt confident relying on his readings - and quietly pleased when both Skyfire and Ultra Magnus commented favourably on the accuracy of his work.

"No tripwires or light traps," Skydive said after a moment, studying the screen intently. "No pressure plates, no explosives, and the energon looks normal enough. There's something strange about the corner it's in, though. There might be a very low-powered force field protecting it, but I'd have to get closer to be sure."

Silverbolt hesitated. "It could be a trap."

"It doesn't look like it from here."

"So, what, we're just gonna leave it there and walk away?" Slingshot demanded, folding his arms bad-temperedly.

"No, we're going to carefully investigate and then take it back if we can," Silverbolt replied. "Air Raid, Fireflight, I want you to go back outside and check the perimeter of the building. See if there is anything obviously wired up on the outside, then see if there's anything non-obviously wired up."

After they'd gone, he gave Skydive permission to move closer to the pile of energon, then pulled Slingshot aside.

"Assuming it's a trap," Silverbolt said, "what do you think it does?"

Slingshot stared at him. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because you think that way," Silverbolt replied candidly. "I've seen you set up trick shots. You're always thinking about what happens after the first hit. Plus, that prank with the pressure plate in the shower racks--"

"Hey, that was Air Raid's idea--"

"And you made it work. So far, I'm thinking an explosion, an alarm that brings a patrol down on us, or the warehouse seals itself and traps us. What else?"

Slingshot was silent for a few seconds. He really was good at this sort of logic, and not always in a negative way - though Silverbolt was aware that a certain vindictive streak played its part.

"Poison the energon," Slingshot said. "Hope we take it back and feed to everyone else without checking. Or it's a dummy, there's a sensor back outside, we already tripped it, and they're on their way right now. Or maybe it's not aimed at us. Maybe it's some sorta loyalty test Decepticons use, set someone to guarding it completely by themselves and see if they run off with any of it..."

Silverbolt controlled his surprise. That last was more insightful even than he'd hoped.

"There's definitely something here," Skydive broke in. "The scanner's not giving me much, but you can see it with your optics if you know where to look."

Silverbolt moved to his side. This close, he could see the sheen on the liquid energon and feel the faint emanations from the concentrated energy.

"Where's the-- wait, I see it." Silverbolt leaned forward, assessing the faint, wavery effect in the air. "Any idea what that is?"

"It's an em-pulse inverter," said Skydive. "I think."

"You think?"

"It's designed to blend in with the ambient electromagnetism in the area," Skydive went on as if he hadn't heard. "Usually used as a trip wire. Interrupting the field will cause it to collapse, triggering whatever circuit it's hooked up to. It's more likely to be an alarm than a trap - the idea is that you don't know you've set it off, so anyone responding to the alarm can catch you unaware. It's pretty well known among intelligence operators," he added, with a tinge of self-importance.

"Any way of disabling it?" asked Silverbolt, holding back a smile.

"Easiest way is to overload it with an electrical surge. I read something about using nearby electrical wires to create a short-circuit, but I'm not sure…"

Silverbolt did smile then, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers once. A spark leapt from thumb to fingertip; he was rather pleased with that trick. Skydive looked for a moment like he was going to be annoyed, but then grinned sheepishly instead.

"Or you could do it that way…"

Fireflight and Air Raid had come back into the warehouse, reporting no sign of anything untoward outside. Silverbolt quickly relayed the relevant information.

"Stand back, though, would you?" he said finally. "Just in case."

He was getting good at creating a charge in his root form - and at ignoring the sting as it danced across his fingers. One quick jolt aimed at the cubes...

The rest happened so fast he had no time to react. The electromagnetic field over the cubes lit up a blinding white as his lightning intersected it - and seemed to explode. Great crackling bolts of electricity sprang out in all directions, seeking the swiftest way to ground and seeming to lash out like whips or living creatures. The ceiling above the stockpile was torn apart. The walls crumbled and buckled. And Silverbolt was flung so hard across the warehouse that his processor glitched offline.

He rebooted seconds later to find his team clustered around him in panic.

"Silverbolt?"

"Call the base! Tell them we need--"

"Cancel that!" Silverbolt managed to keep the pain out of his voice, struggled to sound authoritative. "No comms. Everyone shut up, I'm okay. Give me a second."

The pain was considerable. He could feel where he'd hit the wall along his back and wings, but far worse was the internal damage - melting and short circuits caused by voltages far in excess of the ones he was used to handling. He fumbled in his subspace for a pain reliever and cursed quietly when he realised he'd used up his supplies under Vos and hadn't yet replaced them. Fireflight, misinterpreting his reaction, moved to help him sit up. Silverbolt leaned gratefully against his shoulder.

"Slingshot, Air Raid, get into the sky now. Watch for incoming Decepticons. Skydive, what happened?"

"I don't know!" Skydive sounded shaken, not to mention guilty, as his brothers dived for the door. "There weren't any explosives, I don't know how it could have done that--"

"It's okay." Silverbolt grabbed his hand and squeezed. "It was obviously more than it looked. I just need to know if we can expect anything else."

"No comm transmissions, short range or long range radio, or satellite tracers," Skydive said, tapping quickly on the scanner. "The field's gone completely, and so is whatever was generating it. An auto-destruct, maybe? But I thought the whole point was for us to set it off without knowing--"

:There's nothing out here, Silverbolt,: said Air Raid. :Slingshot's gone up high and I'm circling over the warehouse. It doesn't look so tidy any more, that's for sure.:

"Right." Silverbolt took his first look at the warehouse: the whole far end had collapsed. "Were any of the rest of you hurt?"

"Something hit my wing," Fireflight said. "But the lightning didn't come over here."

"I'm okay," Skydive added, although he was so focused on the scanner that Silverbolt thought he'd have replied the same way if he'd been missing a limb.

:We're good,: said Air Raid. :Still nothing up here.:

Silverbolt tentatively allowed himself to relax. It didn't seem they were in immediate danger. Unfortunately, taking his mind off that put it right back onto the pain. He couldn't help a faint groan as he leaned his head against Fireflight's and offlined his optics.

"Did any of the energon survive?"

"There's some trickling out of that pile of rubble…"

"Wonderful." Silverbolt contemplated transforming, and shuddered. He decided he'd rather get it over with sooner than sit around thinking about it. "Come on, then. Let's get out of here. I'm in no mood to see what else the Decepticons have left in Praxus."
*
Skyfire had to restrain himself from asking yet again if Silverbolt was really sure he was all right. The stiff, careful way he crossed Skyfire’s quarters and tentatively sat on the berth betrayed the discomfort he was still in. There was only so much the med ‘bots could do for his scorched wiring - much of the damage was to the fine capillary circuits, which would self-repair more efficiently than anyone could achieve manually. He had plenty of painkillers to tide him over, but Skyfire knew nothing could completely eliminate the all-over twinges that would be plaguing him.

Instead, he said, “Shall I get us some energon?”

Silverbolt shot him a look of exasperated amusement, and Skyfire knew his attempt to cover his concern had been in vain.

“I’m fine for now,” he said, shifting on the berth as he tried to find the position that was the least uncomfortable. He gave up after a couple of attempts. “Unless you have high grade lying around somewhere. That might help.”

“Sadly, I don’t.” Skyfire picked his way across the room in turn. The floor was still covered in pieces of machinery and wires, but he was in no mood to work on them. “How’s your back?”

“It’s the only thing that isn’t hurting,” Silverbolt replied. “I just wish we’d managed to retrieve some of that energon. And I hope this hasn’t knocked Skydive’s confidence - from what Blurr said, it didn’t sound like he could have detected it.”

“No, it was a subtle bit of sabotage,” Skyfire agreed. He sat on the edge of the berth, wanting to move closer but unsure whether Silverbolt would welcome any sort of touch right now. “The stored electrical charge must have been spread out over every circuit in the building so it wouldn’t show up - and the only thing that would trigger it was doing exactly what you did, overloading the generator. Someone was counting on whoever found that energon to know how to detect and disable an em-pulse inverter.”

Silverbolt reached out and tugged him properly onto the berth, which Skyfire took as an invitation. He carefully put an arm around Silverbolt, letting him settle in as comfortably as he could, and tried not to jostle him too much.

He didn’t say that he was bothered by the coincidence of that particular trigger. Overloading an em-pulse inverter with an electrical discharge was standard covert ops practice, but normally the discharge would come from a weapon or other external device. In that case, the mech who set it off would have been unlikely to take as much damage as Silverbolt - the electrical burst from the disintegrating field had ridden back up the path blazed by his lightning, earthing itself vengefully in every circuit it could reach. It seemed almost specifically tailored to Silverbolt, alone out of any Autobot who might have stumbled across it. Skyfire knew it was too vague a worry to bring up in a debrief - there were so many ways it might have been anyone but Silverbolt who found that energon store - but he couldn’t completely dismiss the anxiety.

Not when he knew one Decepticon who would absolutely and without hesitation go to the effort to set something like that up - and who now had more than one reason to consider Silverbolt a personal enemy.

He pushed the thought train aside, not wanting Silverbolt to catch the worry in his field. It was possible he was just paranoid. Possible, but… Skyfire shook his head sharply, getting a curious look from Silverbolt.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

Skyfire settled down more comfortably on the berth, easing Silverbolt towards him until they were lying in each other’s arms. He could feel the jolts and twinges of pain in Silverbolt’s field, but they were ameliorated by the soft wash of pleasure and contentment at being close to Skyfire. That gave Skyfire his own thrill of delight, pushing aside any other concerns, and making it seem imperative that he lean in and kiss Silverbolt. And kissing Silverbolt, as he’d been discovering lately, was addictive - so it was easy to let go of his worries for the time being.
*
“There he is!”

Silverbolt didn’t have time to turn towards Fireflight’s voice before at least three of his brothers crashed into him from behind and latched on like sentient grappling hooks. He lost his balance and went down in a heap of laughing Aerialbots. Fortunately, Skyfire was still holding both their energon cubes and had managed to step smartly out of the way of the incoming dogpile, so the only damage was to Silverbolt’s dignity.

“We’ve been looking all over for you,” Fireflight was babbling happily, seemingly in no hurry to get up. “I thought maybe you’d got lost and we were going to go down into the basement except Air Raid said we should come and see if you were in Skyfire’s room and then we were coming through here and saw you by the energon—”

“Why didn’t you comm me?” Silverbolt wriggled free of the pile and sat up, trying not to notice the looks they were getting from some of the other occupants of the main rec room. It was uncomfortably like a flashback to how things had been on the Ark at the beginning. Then he saw how hard Skyfire was trying not to laugh, and his embarrassment faded as quickly as it had come. “Ow, Air Raid, that’s my radar array…”

“We did comm you,” said Skydive, as Air Raid shuffled aside with an unapologetic grin. “You didn’t answer.”

Silverbolt hurriedly checked his comm logs. Sure enough, he had a couple of notification blips from right around the time he and Skyfire had been - oh, right. He’d meant to return the comms but then he’d ended up rather distracted and… he hoped his field wasn’t giving too much away as he got to his feet and grabbed the first brother within easy reach - Fireflight - and pulled him up too.

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry, guys, I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“Sure,” said Air Raid, and there was something about the way his grin widened - and was that the slightest flick of his optics towards Skyfire? - that made Silverbolt look at him with sudden apprehension. “Guess you had better things to do, huh?”

The tone was teasing - there was no resentment in it - but as the others picked themselves up, bickering cheerfully over bent flaps and scuffed finishes, Silverbolt suffered a resurgence of guilt. He should have told them by now, he knew. The longer he and Skyfire kept it quiet, the more it loomed like some sort of dark secret between him and his brothers.

“It’s not like we haven’t spent plenty of time together up here,” he found himself saying defensively. “We don’t always have to—”

His comm went off again, this time on an official channel. Silverbolt waved off Fireflight’s reply (which had an injured tone to it, dammit, why had he let himself get defensive?) and acknowledged Ultra Magnus’s code.

:We have a small Decepticon force moving in on Altihex, targeting the refinery we've been working on there,: said Ultra Magnus without preamble. :How quickly can you get your team in the air?:

“Are you all fuelled?” Silverbolt asked aloud, and in some back corner of his processor, he was so proud of the way they all stopped chattering and answered in the affirmative, recognising the shift in his tone.

:Ten minutes,: he told Ultra Magnus, then mentally kicked himself. :I mean, a breem or so.:

:Good. Head out.:

“Head for the hangar, guys.” Silverbolt turned towards Skyfire to reclaim his cube of energon. He’d have to drink it as he walked. “Was it Altihex you went to last week?”

"The refinery? Yes - I take it the Decepticons are expressing an interest?"

"Enthusiastically."

It was less than ten minutes before they were flying out of Iacon in close formation, Skyfire above and a few lengths behind. Silverbolt had been out this way a few times on patrol, but he checked with Skyfire before choosing their approach vector. According to Ultra Magnus's sensor network, the Decepticon party had settled into a standard bombing pattern targeting the refinery, which was buried deep enough below the surface that there was no chance of it taking damage before the Aerialbots arrived. It was something of a fruitless effort on the part of the Decepticons - they couldn't expect to avoid detection for long enough to do any real damage. Ultra Magnus was concerned that it might be a distraction, and was doubling surveillance throughout Autobot-controlled territory.

It was only as the Aerialbots roared in from the southeast that Silverbolt was able to see who exactly they were facing. An unpleasant jolt of recognition went through him: he'd know Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp anywhere. And he wouldn't have expected them to be here, if Ultra Magnus was right about it being a distraction. He quickly commed the new information back to base, then ordered his brothers to sweep around from two sides and begin the attack.

:Skyfire, stay high,: he added. :I don't like the look of this.:

:Understood.:

It was no contest, with six of them bearing down on the three Seekers. Thundercracker and Skywarp broke off first, each peeling off in a different direction, diving down into canyons to the east and west. Silverbolt wasn't about to fall for that - he ordered his brothers to hold back rather than chase the Decepticons down the narrow spaces. Starscream was still circling over the refinery. He didn't return fire when Silverbolt began shooting at him. Another alarm went off in Silverbolt's processor. Something very strange was going on here…

He should have veered off, he realised later, refused to close with Starscream - but it was too instinctive to keep on coming, his shots hitting home more readily with every metre he gained on the Seeker. He was expecting it when Starscream suddenly rolled and shot towards him, skimming overhead and out of reach of Silverbolt's weapons. He wasn't expecting Starscream to repeat the trick he'd used before: the sound of a transformation was the only warning Silverbolt had before a grappling, wrenching weight crashed into his fuselage.

Silverbolt yawed wildly from side to side, thrown off balance by the extra weight. He tried to turn the motion into a calculated manoeuvre, a roll that would dislodge Starscream, but then null rays were pounding into his systems from point blank range and it was all he could do to stay in the air. He was aware that his brothers had turned to come to his aid - only to be set upon by Thundercracker and Skywarp, who had doubled back using the canyons for cover. Starscream paused in shooting him to grab a piece of his plating and yank painfully. Silverbolt managed not to cry out. All at once, staying in the air didn't seem like such a good idea after all.

He dived low, levelled off, and as he came over a wide, flat building with minimal damage, he transformed. He'd hoped Starscream would be thrown off by the shift, but the Seeker was still clinging to his back as they crashed into the roof. Silverbolt rolled and thrashed, trying to dislodge him, but Starscream seemed to know every handhold and junction in Silverbolt's plating - of course he does, I carried him on my back! - and hung on like grim death. He was at least unable to get his null rays into position like this, but Silverbolt couldn't get him off, and Starscream seemed to be intent on tearing Silverbolt to pieces with his bare hands.

There was laser fire overhead. Thundercracker and Skywarp had come into position above them, keeping the Aerialbots at bay. Starscream grabbed Silverbolt's helm and yanked his head back, other hand going for the fuel lines at the front of his throat. Silverbolt managed to grab his wrist and use the leverage to pull Starscream half off his back, pinning him against the roof with one shoulder. Remembering the last time they'd fought like this, he tried to channel his lightning - only to find it unresponsive. He couldn't get a charge out of his battery. One of Starscream's earlier null ray shots had neatly disabled it. He tried to get his gun out of subspace, but Starscream had taken advantage of his hesitation to push up from the roof and break the hold Silverbolt had on his wrist. His hand lashed out and clawed at Silverbolt's optics, fine cutting blade attachments springing out of his fingers to slice into the glass and delicate circuitry beneath. Pain exploded through Silverbolt's processor like he'd never known before, and for the first time panic took hold of him. He fended off a second swipe from Starscream, sparks and dark lines marring his vision, managed to bend one leg and kick viciously backwards, connecting with something - but Starscream still had that grip on his helm, was still half behind his shoulder, blocked from easy reach by Silverbolt's own wings…

He would have recognised the roar of Skyfire's engines anywhere. Even as Starscream lunged for his face again, a flash of relief went through him. Seconds later, the Seeker's weight was gone as Skyfire tore him bodily off Silverbolt and flung him halfway across the roof.

Silverbolt rolled over and managed to raise himself onto his hands and knees. Skyfire's arms were around him immediately, helping him to his feet and holding him up when he sagged. Starscream was staggering to his feet some distance away, null rays up and optics burning murderously bright - but overhead, Silverbolt's brothers had driven Thundercracker and Skywarp off and now Air Raid was diving vengefully towards Starscream.

Starscream snarled, hatred written all over his dark face - then he jumped backwards away from Air Raid's incoming fire, twisted, and transformed as he went over the edge of the roof. He blazed skyward, chased by Air Raid, Skydive, and Slingshot, and shot off in the same direction as his wingmates.

Silverbolt was reeling. His optics were damaged and agonising, his systems were clamouring failure warnings for the circuits left inoperable by the null rays, and his wings and back were torn and dented from Starscream's clawing hands. Skyfire held him tightly with one arm, gun in his other hand and field sharp with both worry and wariness as he scanned the sky.

:Are there… any others?: Silverbolt managed to get out on the comms. His channel was crackly and weak, another victim of the null rays. :Incoming? Ground force?:

:Not that I can see,: said Skyfire.

:Just those three, and they're already running, and oh Silverbolt are you all right?: Fireflight had stayed circling while the others pursued the Seekers. :What the frag was he doing, that was crazy, why would they do that…?:

:Air Raid, Skydive, Slingshot,: Silverbolt went on, blocking out Fireflight's frantic questions for the moment. :try and bring them down, but don't pursue past the Altihex/Polyhex border, got that? If they get away, make sure they don't come back.:

He sensed resistance in their acknowledgements, but he knew they would obey him. That assurance allowed him to sag against Skyfire. He offlined his optics completely, which dulled the pain somewhat but left him horribly vulnerable. It was only Skyfire's arm around him, and Fireflight's watchful circling overhead, that made him willing to take the risk.

"What the frag was he doing?" he whispered, repeating Fireflight's question more to himself than to Skyfire. The surge of reaction in Skyfire's field was an answer of sorts, though - and Silverbolt felt a sick understanding creep into his pain and confusion.

Chapter Text

Silverbolt was in the medbay for the second time in a week, and Skyfire was cursing his own stupidity.

He should have known, as soon as he saw how pointless Starscream's attack was, that it was intended simply as a way to lure the Aerialbots into combat - and to single out Silverbolt. He should have warned Silverbolt off the approach. He certainly should have been watching for Skywarp and Thundercracker to double back. It was the obvious tactic, but he had been as shocked and distracted as Silverbolt's brothers by the single-minded brutality of Starscream's attack. He should have gone to Silverbolt's aid the moment Starscream landed on his back, but he'd hesitated, worried that more Decepticons would appear over the horizon.

Most of all, though, he should have listened to his instincts. Starscream was gunning for Silverbolt now, and Skyfire should have been ready for it.

"Don't be ridiculous." Silverbolt's voice was loud and sharp in the quiet medbay. "This isn't your fault."

Skyfire jerked his hands away from Silverbolt's wings, where he'd been carefully oiling the new joint welds. He hadn't said anything aloud. Silverbolt had read it in his field. Not the exact thoughts, but certainly the welter of guilt and self-recrimination. He hadn't meant to leave himself so open - he hadn't realised Silverbolt could feel so much through this casual contact. He drew his field in close, forcing control onto it, and Silverbolt flinched, half-turning towards him.

"Don't do that."

"Sorry," said Skyfire, not even sure if he was apologising for closing his field or for failing to protect Silverbolt.

"You're still…" Silverbolt turned around completely, reaching out to draw Skyfire in close and lean their heads together. "Please. Don't shut down on me."

Skyfire offlined his optics and slowly, carefully let Silverbolt in again. This time he made sure to keep his agitation buried deep, where Silverbolt couldn't feel the ripples of it. Silverbolt didn't push, just letting their fields lap together in a close imitation of the easy companionship they normally shared, but Skyfire could tell he was aware of - and worried by - the things Skyfire was keeping hidden.

"It's not as though he hasn't gone after me before," Silverbolt said. "Remember the last time he jumped on me? He's always hated me just for existing."

"This was different."

"I know."

Silverbolt pulled back. One hand came up to stroke Skyfire's cheek. When Skyfire reluctantly turned his optics online, he found himself looking into Silverbolt's. The scratches Starscream had gouged from the glass had been repaired as if they'd never happened - but Skyfire had a vivid memory of the dark, jagged lines marring Silverbolt's brilliant blue optics, and of how much pain he'd been in from the underlying damage.

"I'm not saying this isn't personal," Silverbolt went on. "And I'm not denying how dangerous Starscream can be when he has a grudge, either. But it doesn't change things as much as you think. He's tried to kill me before - he's deliberately targeted me and my brothers many times. Even if he starts doing it more often, it's just another variable to take into account. I'll be on my guard from now on. I won't let him catch me alone again."

"If there is one thing I have learned of Starscream over the vorns," Skyfire replied, low and serious, "it is that he is never just another variable. He fits no equations, obeys no laws, and you cannot count on being able to predict what he will do."

"You give him too much credit," Silverbolt replied - perhaps a little sharply. Skyfire winced, and felt the immediate brush of apology from Silverbolt's field. "He's entirely predictable as long as you assume he will always take the path of greatest self-interest. And as long as you don't assume he's bound by any ideas of common sense, common decency, or compassion."

Skyfire winced again - not because of anything in Silverbolt's tone, but because he had hit an uncomfortable truth right on the head. Even in the depths of his cynicism and disgust at Starscream's behaviour towards the end of their partnership, Skyfire had clung to the belief that somewhere, deep down, there was a line he would not cross. And even now he had seen that hope disproved a score of times, and heard of hundreds more, perhaps he couldn't quite shake the idea that Starscream was somehow bound by the limits of Skyfire's own conscience.

Silverbolt felt his reaction, but didn't understand it. His field twined deeper with Skyfire's, questing for an answer - and though he hated himself for it, Skyfire pulled back again, closing himself off. This time Silverbolt said nothing, just took Skyfire's face in both hands and kissed him. Skyfire hesitated to return it for a moment, more afraid than he cared to admit of re-establishing field contact - but then he couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around Silverbolt and holding on tightly. As their fields tentatively melded again, he caught a gentle, slightly sad assurance from Silverbolt - he wouldn't try to go any deeper, or make Skyfire talk about the things he'd buried down there. Skyfire kissed him back with a mingled rush of guilt and intense gratitude.

"It will be okay," Silverbolt murmured when they parted. He'd edged forward on the berth until he was almost in Skyfire's lap. There was no-one in the medbay to see them, and he showed no inclination to remove himself from Skyfire's arms. "Please try not to worry more than you have to."

"I'll try," Skyfire promised. He even meant it. "Do you want me to carry on with the oil?"

"Not right now." Silverbolt appeared to decide that 'almost' in Skyfire's lap wasn't good enough. He slid off the berth completely and swung a leg over Skyfire's so he could sit straddling him. "Which is not to say that I don't want you touching my wings…"

Skyfire laughed softly, feeling the tension between them ease. He kissed Silverbolt again, moving his hands obligingly to the trailing edges of Silverbolt's wings, and getting the now-familiar thrill of delight when Silverbolt arched into the touch with a soft sound of pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in interfacing with Silverbolt, to focus all his attention on making Silverbolt overload with Skyfire's name on his vocaliser. He couldn't really follow through on the thought here in the medbay - and Silverbolt wouldn't be released until the next shift - but there was nothing to stop them kissing like this, safe in each other's arms.

Nothing except the medbay doors suddenly springing open to admit a loud, laughing bunch of jets, who had no right to be there because they were supposed to be in recharge for Pit's sake--

"Hey, Silverbolt--" Slingshot had been saying. He fell abruptly silent, as did the others. Silverbolt almost fell out of Skyfire's lap in his haste to get back on the berth - but Skyfire knew it was too late to pretend. The other four Aerialbots were staring at them with identical expressions of shock. Well, three of them - Air Raid had gone from startled to smirking so fast that Skyfire was pretty sure he wasn't exactly surprised by this turn of events.

The other three, quite evidently, were. And Skyfire's spark sank at the way that shock was now turning into various combinations of betrayal, anger, and disbelief.

"We thought you'd be asleep," said Skydive accusingly.

"And that's why you were coming in here at top volume in the middle of the night?" snapped Silverbolt. "If I had been asleep--"

"We didn't actually think you'd be asleep," Air Raid said. He had cast a glance at his brothers and read their mood; now he grinned as easily as if nothing special had happened, and only the tense set of his wings gave away how hard he was trying to defuse the situation. "We thought you ought to be asleep but you'd probably be up writing a report or something, so we were coming to distract you." He shot Skyfire a knowing look. "Apparently someone else got there first."

"So how long has this been going on?" demanded Slingshot. He was now glaring at Skyfire with open hostility, as if their tentative camaraderie had never existed. "When were you gonna tell us?"

"None of your damn business!" Silverbolt had gone prickly and defensive and Skyfire knew it was the worst possible reaction - but one he couldn't help, embarrassed and startled as he was. Silverbolt seemed to realise the same thing. "I'm sorry," he said almost at once. "I was going to tell you, I was just…"

"Busy?" put in Air Raid with another smirk. "Yeah, we could see that…"

"None of our business?" Fireflight's voice rose with indignation and hurt. He was staring at Silverbolt as though he'd been punched in the fuel pump, and Silverbolt in turn suddenly looked like he'd taken a step forward and found nothing there but void. "How is it none of our business if you're, you're…"

"Shacked up with Skyfire?" put in Air Raid helpfully.

Skydive and Slingshot both turned to glare at him, obviously wondering why he wasn't backing them up. Air Raid met their gaze without flinching, and his expression, though still amused, took on a certain hardness. Skyfire wasn't privy to the workings of the gestalt bond, nor close enough for field contact, but he sensed the battle of wills nonetheless.

"Shacked up?" queried Skyfire, keeping his tone light and hoping the normality might help. "Did you pick that up from Groove?"

"Hot Spot, actually," replied Air Raid, taking his optics off his brothers. "Groove's version was screwing like rabbits, but Hot Spot said I shouldn't use that one in casual conversation, and anyway, he was talking about humans so I wasn't sure if it applied to us--"

"Primus, shut up, Air Raid!" said Skydive - but there was less anger in the rebuke than exasperation, which Skyfire took as a good sign. "This really isn't the time--"

"We wanna talk to you," Slingshot said bluntly to Silverbolt. "He should go."

Silverbolt's optics had paled with anger. Skyfire wanted to reach out and take his hand, to calm him through field contact - but he was afraid the gesture would make things worse.

"Skyfire is staying right here," Silverbolt bit out. "If you want to talk, we can all talk."

"What, so there's six of us in this gestalt now?"

"That's not what I--"

"Guys, can we calm down and--"

"I don't see why we can't talk without--"

In the midst of the cacophony, Skyfire's attention was drawn to Fireflight, who had fallen completely silent and was now staring directly at him. The betrayal on his face struck right to Skyfire's spark. Of all of them, he'd thought Fireflight would be the quickest to accept his relationship with Silverbolt - but the sweet, affectionate jet who'd so swiftly adopted Skyfire as a friend now looked as though he'd never been so hurt. Skyfire started to speak, trying to reach out to him - but Fireflight suddenly turned, slammed a hand into the medbay door controls, and fled out into the corridor without another word.

"Fireflight!"

Silverbolt lurched off the berth and took two steps towards the door, but staggered, his systems not adjusting quickly enough. Skyfire caught him and held him up. Most of the physical damage had been repaired, but Starscream's null rays had put a huge strain on Silverbolt's capacitors. He sagged against Skyfire, watching the door slide closed, and Skyfire could feel the distress rippling through his field. He hadn't expected that reaction from Fireflight either, and it hurt him far more than Slingshot's characteristic belligerence ever could.

"I'll find him," Skydive said, sounding subdued now. He looked between Skyfire and Silverbolt, hesitating as if he wanted to say something but didn't quite know what, then turned for the door.

Slingshot went with him, throwing one more sour look at Skyfire as the door closed behind them.

"That could have gone better," remarked Air Raid.

He took one look at Silverbolt's face and was across the room in a second to put his arms around his brother. Skyfire willingly relinquished his hold and let Air Raid help him back onto the berth.

"I didn't think they'd--"

"It's okay." Air Raid hopped onto the berth with Silverbolt and wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulders. Skyfire resumed his seat on the other side of the berth and took one of Silverbolt's hands in his. "It's gonna be okay. They're just freaking out because they weren't expecting it."

"How long have you known?"

"I dunno, since we moved to Autobot City?"

Silverbolt stared at him.

"But we only got together after Vos."

"Yeah, but you wanted to before that." Air Raid grinned as Silverbolt's expression turned sheepish. "I pay attention."

Skyfire couldn't quite contain an undignified snorting noise. Air Raid glowered at him in a friendly manner.

"I do! Sometimes."

He kissed the top of Silverbolt's helm, an easy, affectionate gesture that warmed Skyfire's spark - as did the way Silverbolt leaned into it, fraught field easing somewhat. Then Air Raid hopped off the berth and headed for the door.

"I'll do damage control," he said. "They'll be fine by the morning, you'll see. You get some rest." He smirked at Skyfire. "Actual rest."

After he was gone, Skyfire finally said, "Do you want me to go?"

Silverbolt hesitated, and Skyfire could feel the conflict in his field - wanting Skyfire with him, needing time to sort out his chaotic emotions, feeling like he shouldn't be with Skyfire right now, afraid of hurting Skyfire's feelings… Skyfire kissed his hand and said, "It's okay if you do."

"No. Don't. I want you to stay." Silverbolt turned towards him with sudden desperation, clinging on when Skyfire took him in his arms. "I should have told them sooner, I should have--"

"Shh, don't. Air Raid's right, it's going to be okay."

"When did Air Raid get so observant, anyway?" Silverbolt's voice was muffled, his face buried in Skyfire's shoulder. "Not to mention sensible…"

Skyfire laughed, shaking his head at the genuine bewilderment in Silverbolt's voice.

"I suspect he learned by example," he said gently.

*

Silverbolt didn't get much rest in the end, though not for lack of trying - he was too busy worrying about his brothers, feeling guilty, telling himself he shouldn't feel guilty, amending that to he should feel a bit guilty because he really should have told them sooner, defending himself by noting they didn't have to share everything, admitting that that didn't give him a free pass to keep secrets that did, after all, affect the rest of them, petulantly wondering where the line was drawn and wasn't he entitled to some privacy, knowing that he was but he'd let that get all mixed up with other things, remembering Fireflight's expression, feeling guilty, telling himself he shouldn't feel guilty…

Silverbolt didn't get much rest in the end.

It wasn't as if he'd never fallen out with his gestalt before - there had certainly been plenty of times when all five of them had stormed off in various stages of temper - but Silverbolt realised that it hadn't happened for a while now. There had been petty disagreements and brief scuffles, but overall, they had seemed to get on better lately. It was as if they had grown around each other enough to accept each other's foibles without anger. For that matter, Silverbolt couldn't remember the last time any of them had ended up in the brig. Almost without his noticing, his team had mellowed out and begun to live up to his hopes of them. It made the current situation all the more painful.

He headed for the Aerialbots' quarters as soon as he was released from medbay. Skyfire, Primus bless him, had found a convenient reason to set off in the other direction. Despite what Silverbolt had said in anger, he knew that Slingshot had been right - they did need to talk without Skyfire there. The fact that Skyfire understood that, and did not resent it, went a long way towards making Silverbolt hope that Air Raid might be right - that it would be okay after all.

He went to Air Raid's room first, partly because it had become the impromptu gathering place for the others, partly because if they weren't together, he'd rather talk to Air Raid before anyone else. He found Air Raid and Slingshot playing some sort of computer game with whoops of glee and reckless disregard for the wellbeing of the surrounding furniture. Silverbolt watched for a few seconds, and realised it was a human racing game they had somehow hacked into the Iacon base's consoles. He shook his head, amused and suddenly homesick. Maybe it really was time they headed back to Earth.

"Hey," he said, not quite sure how to start.

Air Raid made it easy for him: he tossed Silverbolt the controller (Silverbolt caught it, barely) and hopped off the couch. "You can have my place, I wanna go see if Blurr's in the rec room anyhow."

He was out of the room before Silverbolt could protest. Silverbolt stared at the controller, then at the screen where a tiny pixellated car was busily crashing repeatedly into a wall, then back at the controller. He tentatively pushed a control stick forward. The car spun in a circle and exploded. Slingshot began to snigger uncontrollably.

"How does this even--?" Silverbolt's car had reappeared. He pressed one of the buttons, and some sort of guided missile shot out of the front (he was almost certain that human race cars did not normally include weaponry).

"Hey! Fragging--" The missile had apparently found Slingshot's car, though Silverbolt had no idea how. "That was not fair."

On his half of the screen, a message flashed up awarding him second place. Silverbolt looked at his own car, now drifting slowly sideways down a six-lane track, and said cautiously, "I don't think this is my sort of game."

Slingshot looked at him holding the controller like he thought it might go off.

"No kidding."

And to Silverbolt's confused and grateful surprise, that was it. Slingshot tried to show him how to play the game, and Silverbolt completely failed to grasp it (which was… idiotic, shouldn't he be able to do something as simple as propel an imaginary car down an imaginary road when he could fly halfway across the world with barely a thought? The wretched thing was probably rigged.) and they were sitting close enough for field contact to make it abundantly clear to Silverbolt that somehow, in the hours since that confrontation in the medbay, Slingshot had gotten over it. It was the last thing he'd expected - but then, maybe he'd been coming at this all wrong. In between Slingshot's mockery and rough but good-natured grabbing of the controller, Silverbolt caught enough through their link and through field contact to understand that for Slingshot, the biggest hurdle had been accepting Skyfire into their group in the first place. Once he'd had time to get over his kneejerk angry reaction, he couldn't care less what exactly Silverbolt was getting up to with Skyfire out of his sight. Just so long as Silverbolt was still theirs - and he was still theirs, right?

Silverbolt put the controller down and quite determinedly dragged Slingshot into a hug.

"Hey! I was winning-- frag it, Silverbolt, get off--"

The door swooshed open as Slingshot half-heartedly tried to swat Silverbolt away. Skydive paused mid-step and re-assessed the situation.

"Are you two having a moment? Should I come back later?"

"I think we're done here," said Silverbolt, letting Slingshot escape. He smiled tentatively at Skydive, and was relieved when it was returned.

"He used the global drain," Slingshot complained petulantly. "Three times!"

"I didn't mean to, I thought it was the shield--"

"Easy mistake."

Skydive crossed the room and sat on the couch on Silverbolt's other side. He took the controller out of Silverbolt's hands, hit the controls to start another race, and achieved three perfect laps and first place. Slingshot grumbled under his breath but made no accusations of cheating - another change from how things used to be.

By the time Air Raid came back from the rec room, Silverbolt was feeling happier than he would have thought possible when he'd left the medbay. Skydive wasn't as easy to read as Slingshot, and Silverbolt knew that they would need to talk, properly talk, later - but it seemed Air Raid had been right about both his brothers. They were over it. They just wanted reassurance that his relationship with Skyfire wouldn't replace them somehow. Silverbolt let them jostle him back and forth, tease him for driving into the wall, and try to grab each other's controllers across his lap.

When Air Raid returned, Silverbolt glanced hopefully behind him - but there was no sign of Fireflight. His spark sank again.

*

Skyfire had a plan. The energon siphon he'd been working on was lacking a few key components that would make it work on Earth, but according to the plans of the Iacon spaceport that Ultra Magnus had provided, there was an old energon filtering plant several levels below those currently occupied by the Autobots. The parts from that would be too big for the siphon, but he was certain he could jury-rig them into something usable. He intended to find the plant and spend as much of the next shift as possible dismantling it and tinkering with the components. Silverbolt could comm him anytime if he needed to, but otherwise Skyfire felt it was prudent to get himself out of the way and stay there until wanted.

It should have been a fool-proof plan, and he should have had many undisturbed hours to work on his project, but he'd barely removed the casing from the first of the filtering plant's vats when he heard a tentative voice from the doorway behind him.

"What are you doing?"

Skyfire jumped so hard he dropped his screwdriver, but he managed to suppress the instinct to spin around. He recognised that voice well enough.

"I'm looking for some pieces for my energon siphon," he said. "What are you doing down here, Fireflight?"

A shuffling sound, as if Fireflight had moved a step further into the room.

"Thinking."

Skyfire retrieved his screwdriver as he thought about what to say next. He hadn't thought Fireflight would want to talk to him just yet, but if he was here, Skyfire wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to make amends.

"I could use some help," he said, finally glancing over his shoulder. Fireflight was looking at the machine, not at him. "If you wanted to grab a screwdriver."

He thought Fireflight would refuse - maybe even dart back out into the corridor, with the nervy way he was hovering near the door - but after a moment, he just said, "Okay."

Skyfire found a couple of spare tools, pulled up a crate for Fireflight to stand on, and showed him which screws to remove and in what order. They worked silently until the triple filtration catalyst Skyfire was after came loose in his hand. He stepped back from the machinery to study it closely. He thought it would do.

"What's it for?" asked Fireflight.

"Energon passes through it here--" Skyfire pointed to the intake, "-- and gets filtered through a couple of magnetic sieves and a small gravity pulse centrifuge. It removes the finer impurities, things we can't rid of in the Ark at the moment, and leaves the energon pure enough to be compressed into solid form. I'm going to see if Prime will let me use it to improve our diet."

"Does it still work?"

"I'm not sure. None of the components look burned out, but I'll need to test it when I get back to my quarters. Even if it's a dud, Wheeljack might able to do something with it - he's better at energy manipulation than I am, he can probably reverse engineer it. I think it should work, though."

Fireflight nodded and turned to peer inside the open case of the filtration vat. Skyfire regarded him for a moment, then put aside the catalyst and began to remove the next component on his list. Together, they extracted several usable parts. Fireflight said very little (for him) except to ask what each one did. Skyfire decided he was willing to wait it out. He found it interesting that Fireflight had yet to drop a single screw or tool, or topple off his crate. It confirmed Skyfire's longstanding hunch that he wasn't so much clumsy as inattentive, and that when he was focused on something, he was a good deal more conscientious than many other 'bots Skyfire had known.

Finally, as Skyfire was carefully levering a length of pipe out of the vat, Fireflight said, "Is Silverbolt mad at me?"

That… hadn't quite been what Skyfire was expecting, though with hindsight it was blindingly obvious.

"No," he said firmly. Normally he would quantify it as his own opinion - I don't expect so or I'm sure he isn't - but on this occasion he felt he could speak for Silverbolt without qualms. "At himself, maybe."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No!"

Skyfire left the pipe where it was, dangling from one bracket, and turned to look properly at Fireflight. Bright blue optics started back at him with such a mess of worry and guilt and confusion behind them that it was all Skyfire could do not to pick him up and hug him until it went away. In amongst the slow deepening of his relationship with Silverbolt, he'd somehow missed just how much he'd started to care about the others, too - and if he were honest, Fireflight especially. It had upset him almost as much as it had upset Silverbolt to see him flee the medical bay in such haste.

"No-one's angry with you," Skyfire said. He reached out tentatively to touch Fireflight on the shoulder. Fireflight didn't move away. "If anything, we owe you an apology. One of us should have said something sooner."

"Yeah." Fireflight stared at his feet for a few seconds. Without looking up, he asked, "Are you two going to bond?"

"What? No! Of course not!" Skyfire caught himself too late to take the words back. He was slightly horrified by the vehemence of his own denial - but he hadn't been prepared for such a blunt, intimate question from Fireflight. "I mean-- it's not--"

"Why not?" Fireflight was suddenly glaring at Skyfire with an indignation so fierce it was almost scary. "What's wrong with Silverbolt?"

"Nothing! I-- I care about him a lot, it's just-- it isn't something you do lightly, and it's still very early days to even think about that."

Fireflight subsided, the edges of his usual curiosity creeping back into his face and voice.

"Why?"

"Because--" Skyfire paused, realising the fundamental mismatch. "You're thinking it's like your gestalt link, aren't you?"

Fireflight nodded.

"It's different," Skyfire said. He turned back to the vat and began to unscrew the last bracket holding the length of pipe in place, using the simple activity to get his thoughts in order. "It's… do you know how it all works? Spark sharing and bonding?"

"I think so," said Fireflight, doubt in his voice.

"Sharing sparks opens you up to another person," Skyfire said. He concentrated on removing the screws one by one, distracting himself from the painful emotions that came with this territory. "It's like field sharing only - much deeper. It's not just bits of sensation or emotions - you start to link code and run each other's processes. It's…" He trailed off and had to force himself to continue. "Some people like it. They do it often, and the repetition starts to form a bond that is reinforced every time they share sparks. Eventually, the link persists even when they're physically separate, so it's a little like the gestalt in that way - but it's much more focused on the specific connection between two sparks. Or more. I'm told it's like… having a whisper of your bonded in the back of your processor, a little bit of code that never leaves and gives you a different perspective on things."

"You've never done it?"

"No." Skyfire removed the last of the screws and pulled the pipe loose, weighing it in his hands as he examined it for flaws he didn't really care about right now. "I… don't like spark sharing, so I've never bonded with anyone."

Which was true, albeit missing several important details, but Skyfire had no intention of expanding on the topic - at least, not with Fireflight. He knew he would have to tell Silverbolt eventually. He tried hard not to think about the deep flash of hurt that had gone through Silverbolt the first time they'd interfaced and he'd refused to spark share. Silverbolt hadn't brought it up since, and had seemed entirely happy with the pleasure they brought each other, but Skyfire sensed it was a question he was going to ask sooner or later. He hoped he'd be able to make Silverbolt understand when the time came.

"Oh." Fireflight reached out for the pipe; Skyfire let him take it. "Okay."

There was a faint overtone of relief in the short response. Fireflight examined the pipe as though it held the secrets of the universe, then laid it aside and, stepping to edge of his crate, threw his arms around Skyfire.

"msorryIfreakedoutIdidn'tmeanitsorry," he said, or at least that was what Skyfire managed to decipher.

Skyfire cautiously hugged Fireflight back, and was relieved beyond expression when he felt the younger jet's field loosen up from its tight, unhappy state. In the whirl of unleashed emotion, he caught the fleeting remains of jealousy and a terrible fear of abandonment. He couldn't have thought that they were going to lose Silverbolt because of Skyfire, could he? Skyfire put the pieces together in a flash - Fireflight had assumed they'd bond, he'd thought that it would supplant the gestalt link somehow - he could see the leap of not-quite-logic, driven by surprise and upset, and how it would have sent Fireflight fleeing from his brothers. He tightened his arms decisively and tried to project as much reassurance and affection as he could.

"Can I still come and hang out in your lab?" asked Fireflight after a few moments, seemingly content to stay exactly where he was for the rest of the conversation.

"You'd better. I'd miss you terribly if you didn't."

"Okay. But you've gotta promise," and there was an undercurrent of mischief in Fireflight's voice that put Skyfire on the alert, "that you'll lock the door if you and Silverbolt are, you know--"

"Fireflight!"

"-- 'cause I don't need to see that!"

"I-- we--" Skyfire sputtered incoherently, excruciatingly aware of the muffled sniggering right next to his audio receptor. "We wouldn't. Not in the lab."

"Oh right, so the lab's different from the med bay, huh?"

"Get off, you." Skyfire attempted to dislodge Fireflight, but found he was thoroughly attached and now laughing openly. "There was-- nothing was going to happen, okay, we were just--"

"Busy?" asked Fireflight sweetly, and the echo of Air Raid's easy acceptance - whether intentional or not - sent a pang of relief and gratitude right to Skyfire's spark.

"I refuse to comment further on the grounds I may incriminate myself," he said dryly. "Are you going to let go or am I going to have to learn to dismantle machinery over your head?"

Fireflight let go (eventually). And after a while, Skyfire sent a comm to Silverbolt, who found them some time later amid a sea of siphon parts that Fireflight was happily sorting while Skyfire worked on a few stubborn components.

"Hey." Silverbolt glanced briefly - gratefully - at Skyfire, but his attention was primarily on Fireflight. "Is everything--?"

He was interrupted by Fireflight crashing into him in what Skyfire had come to think of as the Aerialbot tacklehug. They went down in a heap by the door, and Skyfire couldn't help grinning at the surprised, but happy squawking noise Silverbolt made. He pretended not to hear the ensuing babble of the two of them trying to talk over each other to apologise, tuning back in only when things had been resolved by Fireflight latching happily onto Silverbolt and Silverbolt petting his wings.

"How were the others?" Skyfire asked.

"Fine." Silverbolt glanced down at Fireflight, and mingled with the relief on his face was an almost embarrassed sort of bewilderment - as if he hadn't expected things to be resolved so easily, and wasn't sure if he deserved it. "Everything's fine. And I just heard from Optimus Prime - we can head back to Earth any day we like."

"Really?" Fireflight sat up excitedly. "Can we go tomorrow? Can we go now?"

"Well, not now--" Silverbolt cast a questioning glance over Skyfire's haul of machine parts. "Probably not tomorrow, either."

"I can crate these up and sort them out on Earth," Skyfire said. "Tomorrow's fine, if you want."

Silverbolt hesitated. Then an all-too-rare expression of reckless, happy decision settled on his face.

"In that case," he said, "we'll go tomorrow."

*

Silverbolt was surprised by the rush of emotion that hit him as Earth broadened outside Skyfire’s cockpit windows. He had felt glad to be going back, but he hadn’t realised, until he saw the peaceful-looking blue and green globe below them, just how much he’d missed it. They were going home.

From the way the others were ricocheting around the cabin like poorly contained popcorn, they felt the same. Fireflight was happily pointing out continents he’d visited (not always on purpose) to Air Raid, while Slingshot and Skydive entertained themselves watching the line of night move across the planet below. Clusters of lights sprang up in its wake, as though it were a cloth peeled back to reveal a mirror that reflected the stars.

They landed at the Ark first, so as not to arouse Decepticon suspicions by heading for what was supposed to be an empty piece of land. The crashed ship was almost empty; more and more Autobots were permanently posted at the construction site that would become their city. Jazz was holding the fort in Red Alert’s security office; he greeted them by comm and told them they had clearance to head straight on. Skyfire landed for long enough to let the Aerialbots out so they could fly under their own power, and then the six of them took off into a clear evening sky. That line of darkness they had seen from orbit had not yet reached this part of the world, though the horizon was stained red and gold where the sun was sinking towards it.

:I’ve missed the breeze,: Skydive commented.

:And the sun,: said Air Raid.

:Oh look, are those birds? There’re an awful lot of them!:

Fireflight veered off to the left. Silverbolt was about to call him back into formation when he realised it didn’t matter. They were in no hurry, the skies were clear, and there was no labyrinth of canyons here for Fireflight to get lost in. The flock of geese below them reacted with a cacophony of indignant honking to Fireflight’s closer approach. The sound was riotous, disrespectful, and utterly unlike anything they could have heard on Cybertron.

:They’re probably migrating,: said Skyfire. :It’s the right time of year.:

:Migrating?: Fireflight swooped back to the rest of the group. Silverbolt suppressed laughter at the eager, easy curiosity in his voice - laughter and a rush of gratitude and relief that things were back to normal. :What does that mean?:

So Skyfire spent the rest of the flight explaining the habits of birds that followed the seasons north and south, and it wasn’t only Fireflight asking interested questions. Silverbolt was silent. He was so used to Skyfire knowing the answers, but it was only now - after weeks of questions focusing solely on Cybertron - that he heard the difference. Earth had been as unknown to Skyfire as to them when he’d first awakened, but he had thrown himself into learning everything he could about the planet - whether the migration of geese or the composition of rocks or the social and cultural evolution of the people who dwelt there. When Skyfire talked about Cybertron, it was with pain but also with love and deep familiarity. When he talked about Earth, there was no pain - but no especial love, either. Certainly, there was interest, enthusiasm, intellectual curiosity - but Silverbolt realised that for him, this still was not a homecoming. The thought made his spark ache with sadness.

He pushed it aside as they came in on the authorised approach vector for Autobot City. There seemed to be nothing behind the range of hills as they descended, keeping strictly to the flight path Red Alert had designated for them - until they passed the range of Hound’s holograms. Suddenly the whole site was laid out in front of them, churned earth and quarried stone, the warm golden metal of the Autobots’ preferred alloys, the reservoir that would one day be opened to form a moat and waterfall surrounding the city, but for now was providing Grapple and Hoist with much needed cooling capability. The walls were almost finished, Silverbolt saw - construction had come along immensely since the Aerialbots had left for Cybertron. Within them there were now a number of finished structures, including the comm tower.

:Wow,: said Fireflight, and the others murmured agreement.

They set down on the wide patch of open ground near their temporary accommodation. Silverbolt noticed that a number of tapes and pegs marked its edges; perhaps Hoist had decided to make the runway permanent. Someone had set up a floodlight near the end of the open patch, lighting their final approach nicely. Silverbolt transformed, looked around, and smiled when he saw that the someone was Hot Spot.

“Hello, strangers!” Hot Spot unfolded himself from his easy sprawl on the ground behind the light. Peering behind him, Silverbolt made out the rest of his gestalt getting to their feet. “Thought we’d wait up for you. How was Cybertron?”

“Awesome—!”

“Weird—!”

“So cool—!”

The two groups met in a babble of exchanged greetings and questions. Silverbolt automatically checked that Slingshot and Blades weren’t about to start throwing punches - and wonder of wonders, they were actually on opposite sides of the crowd, apparently ignoring each other - then turned to Hot Spot with a smile of greeting. It turned into laughter when he saw his friend just turning back from a similar threat assessment.

“Will wonders never cease?” he quipped. “How was the flight?”

“It was fine—” Silverbolt paused as he realised Skyfire had hung back from the general commingling of the two gestalts. “Maybe we should head inside and let everyone get settled down?”

“Ah, well, that’s part of why we came out to meet you.” Hot Spot slung an arm around Silverbolt, affectionate and cheerful. “Come this way.”

He started to guide Silverbolt towards the buildings some way off. The rest of the Protectobots, seeming to take this as their cue, began to herd Silverbolt’s brothers in the same direction. Silverbolt turned to look for Skyfire. He was lagging some way behind, but when he caught Silverbolt’s optics, he put on speed and caught up. Silverbolt reached for his hand, struck again by the sense of something off-balance. Skyfire shot him a smile, almost apologetic, and seemed to shake himself out of whatever thoughts had gripped him.

“A lot’s been done since we left,” he said to Hot Spot. “I take it Grapple has been cracking the whip?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” Hot Spot had let go of Silverbolt, and from the quick glance he shot at their linked hands, and the grin he tried and failed to stifle, Silverbolt had a feeling he, like Air Raid, had been expecting something along those lines. “Prime moved up here a few weeks back and he shifted the priorities around a bit, said we’d done enough on the defences for now. So we’ve been putting up the central complex. Which is just through here…”

‘Here’ was a pair of double doors, sized comfortably even for Skyfire, which opened when Hot Spot keyed in his command code. They found themselves in a wide corridor like the ones on Cybertron, except that it was obviously brand new, and still rough around the edges. Hot Spot led them past a number of intersections that led nowhere, explaining as he went what they would eventually connect to, then took a left just before the corridor plunged down some stairs. A hubbub of voices floated up from below.

“That’s the main rec area down there,” Hot Spot said. “We’ll go down in a sec, everyone’ll want to see you - but you guys need to see this first.”

He led them through a couple more corridors and stopped in front of one door. Like a conjurer performing a trick, he waved Silverbolt to the control panel.

“What do I—?”

“Just enter your quarters code.”

Silverbolt did, and the door sprang open. Beyond was… space, as much space as they’d had on Cybertron, laid out as a small common room. There were doors on every wall - five in total. Aware of the pressure behind him from his excited brothers, he stepped inside and let them spill past.

“This is…”

“Your new quarters.” Hot Spot was no longer even trying to hide his enjoyment of Silverbolt’s surprise. “Prime said those of us stationed here permanently should have somewhere to live, so Grapple and Hoist started on the residential blocks. My team are just around the corner.”

“We’ve got a room each!” shrieked Fireflight from somewhere behind one of the doors.

“Look at the berths!” shouted Air Raid.

“And Skyfire’s next door,” Hot Spot added.

“Wait, what?” Skyfire had been silent, watching the Aerialbots scramble around with undisguised amusement; now the smile dropped off his face. “I am? No-one asked me.”

The startled, gratified joy that had been filling Silverbolt’s spark wavered at the genuine irritation in Skyfire’s voice. Hot Spot was similarly taken aback.

“I think— I mean, I guess people thought you’d want to be—”

“I’m sure it isn’t set in stone,” Silverbolt said, forcing his voice to sound calm. “If you’d rather be nearer the labs or in the same section as Perceptor and Wheeljack, I expect it could be arranged.”

“Primus forbid I have Wheeljack as a neighbour,” Skyfire muttered, but it was good-natured, and that unsettling flash of annoyance had faded. “No, I mean, of course I’d rather be near all of you - I just would have liked to be asked, that’s all.”

The strange moment was broken by the appearance of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker at the door, and by a new round of hellos and laughter. Silverbolt would have liked to pull Skyfire aside and just check - just be sure he was okay with this - because really he could be quartered anywhere he wanted, it wasn’t like he had to be right next to the Aerialbots - but there were too many people now, too much pressure sweeping them out of the new quarters and back towards the rec room.

And if it had felt like coming home to see Earth rising up to greet them, it was as nothing compared to the swell of greetings and gladness that met them as they came down the steps into the enormous, bare, yet already welcoming room that was to be the Autobots’ new recreation hub. Even people he normally barely spoke to seemed pleased to see him - and his brothers - and Skyfire. Everyone wanted to hear about Cybertron. Everyone said it was good to see them back.

We belong here, Silverbolt realised. His brothers were lapping up the attention, not one of them acting out. We really do.

He looked for Skyfire, half afraid he’d be hanging back on the fringes again - but Skyfire had found Perceptor and the two were talking animatedly, soon joined by Hound and Beachcomber. Silverbolt watched him for a few moments across the room, enjoying the little thrill of knowing he was allowed to, and that later he could draw him down and kiss him and reassure him that he belonged here just as much as they did…

Hot Spot nudged him. When Silverbolt jumped guiltily, he snickered.

“So, is there something you wanna tell me, Silverbolt?”

Chapter Text

Autobot City was still a long way from being an actual city, but now the main Autobot force had relocated here, there were plenty of eager hands to help with construction. Skyfire was amazed by how fast the work was progressing. It helped that their initial blueprints had been so detailed - they had to be, given that Optimus wanted the city to be able to transform independently for better defence - so now it was largely a matter of joining the dots. Initially, personal quarters were being put together in a central cluster near the rec room, but Skyfire knew that when the city was finished, there would be a number of residential areas to choose from.

He liked the idea of living in one of the tower complexes that would stand in the centre. They had been patterned after similar apartments on Cybertron, and with the Aerialbots - and the handful of other flying Autobots - in mind. Quick access to the sky was something Skyfire was beginning to crave like never before.

It wasn't that he was unhappy - in fact, he thought that the last few months had been the happiest he could remember since long before the ice. With Autobot City well underway, he had time to pursue his own projects again, and even the frequent air patrols didn't frustrate him the way they once had. He never lacked for company, whether it was the excitable, tumultuous presence of the Aerialbots or the steadier companionship of Perceptor or Silverbolt. As for Silverbolt… Skyfire didn't have words to express what he felt. Time spent with Silverbolt was filled with a quiet joy.

It was time spent apart from him that was the problem. When Skyfire wasn't distracted by Silverbolt, Silverbolt's brothers, or one of his other friends, he was conscious of a dark uneasiness beneath what should have been perfect contentment. Some of it he recognised: it had a distinctly Starscream shape to it and he did his best not to let it preoccupy him. The rest… he wasn't sure he could put words around it. Except that sometimes he didn't recognise his own life, wasn't sure how he'd ended up with such a web of friendship and love around him - and rather than feeling gladness, he suffered a tightening sense of containment.

He'd left the Aerialbots in the rec room, pleading a need to finish some things in his lab, but as much as anything, he'd just needed to get away. Even from Silverbolt.

The lab wasn't really his yet, since he was sharing it with Perceptor and Wheeljack - it wasn't even really a lab, just a space that would one day be the mess hall, furnished with rough workbenches made of empty crates and pieces of sheet metal, and stacked with the equipment that had been shipped over from the Ark so far. He'd hoped it would be empty, but Perceptor was busy in one corner, transformed to make use of his microscope and muttering happily to himself. Skyfire hesitated in the doorway, almost wanting to turn and go to his own quarters, even though he had nothing there to work on. Then he shook himself. What was wrong with him at the moment? He'd never had a problem with Perceptor's company. He didn't have a problem with it, he decided, and headed for his own pair of benches.

"Good morning," Perceptor said, swivelling his lens towards Skyfire.

"How are the samples looking?"

"Very good, though I do say so myself." Perceptor shuffled back from the bench and transformed, stretching in a distinctly human way. Skyfire smiled; they had all picked up far more habits from their organic allies than anyone would admit. "The moons are looking like a better and better prospect. There's a much higher proportion of hard metals than I'd expected; if the base is dug in below the surface it should prove very defensible even if the Decepticons discover our activities immediately."

"That's good news." Skyfire pulled his toolbox towards him and opened it. On the bench was the energon siphon he had been working on since Cybertron. Optimus Prime had given enthusiastic approval for the project; apparently Skyfire wasn't the only one who found their current diet lacking. "What about volatiles?"

"There may be some closer to the core, but I haven't found much evidence of them in the surface samples. I suspect we'll have to ship them in."

Skyfire nodded absently, listening but already half-absorbed in his own work. One of Optimus Prime's long term strategies involved establishing bases on Cybertron's moons to try and counteract the Decepticons' increasing hold on the planet. The moons were composed of waste metal from various construction projects on Cybertron itself; they were essentially giant floating slag heaps.

"We'll have to get hold of them first. We can hardly start mining Earth for materials, and I don't suppose Iacon's refineries have any left."

"Ah, well, there have been some interesting discussions on that point." Perceptor wandered over to watch as Skyfire picked up a small welder and continued where he'd left off with the compression pump. "You should talk to Chip when you have the chance. This new Earth Defence Committee of theirs has been busy getting co-operation from the nations with a stake in extraterrestrial exploration. I believe there's a plan in the works to assist human exploration of the rest of their solar system in return for mining rights on some of the gas giant moons."

"Really?" Skyfire put down the welder, interest piqued. "I hadn't heard anything about that. It would certainly solve some of our resource problems."

"Chip put the idea forward while you were on Cybertron, and he's been too busy to stop by since. He definitely wanted to talk to you about it though. You're the obvious candidate to work with the committee."

"I'd certainly appreciate the chance to get off-planet more often…"

"I thought you might." Perceptor was still examining the energon siphon, but Skyfire caught a flicker of mingled sympathy and concern in his field. "I know how you get when you're stuck in one place for too long."

Skyfire flinched, though he knew the comment was meant with the best of intentions. It was too close to that darkness hiding behind his thoughts lately - and reminded him vividly that Perceptor had been witness to other things Skyfire would have rather stayed buried in his past. Things like Starscream's ruthless abuse of Academy politics and single-minded pursuit of the grants and permits that would get them off-planet. Things that had torn into Skyfire's conscience, but that he had gone along with because he couldn't be trapped on Cybertron with no hope of leaving, he just couldn't resign himself to that fate…

Perceptor caught the reaction and shot an apologetic glance at him. "I didn't mean--"

"I know. Do you mind if I get on with this? I'd like to finish today or tomorrow."

"… of course."

Perceptor went back to his samples. Skyfire picked up the welder again, but his attention was not on the work. He had to realign his seams so many times he might as well have left it for the day and come back when he could concentrate, but he forged grimly on. He needed the excuse to be alone with his thoughts for a while.

*

:It looks pretty good,: Air Raid said as they circled over Autobot City in a holding pattern. :D'you think they'll get the hangar finished before winter? It'd be nice not to get rained on while we're prepping.:

:It's not a top priority, sadly,: Silverbolt replied. He too was taking the opportunity to look over the city as they waited. :And I think the science wing is the next project.:

:That'll make Skyfire happy.:

:I'll say.: As they came around on another loop, Silverbolt opened up a second comm channel. :Fireflight, where are you?:

:Sorry! I'm just coming!:

:Hurry up, would you? I know we've got some time to spare but I'd rather we were in position ahead of schedule.:

:Bet he's been in the ducts again,: put in Air Raid. :What did you find this time?:

:Oh, it was really cool, there was an alligator and the human workers were really scared, but Beachcomber just picked it up, and it tried to bite his finger but I think it hurt its teeth because then it shut its mouth and wouldn't open it again and Sunstreaker wanted to keep it but Spike said--:

:Tell us later,: Silverbolt broke in gently. He wasn't really annoyed, but he was getting antsy waiting to set off on their mission. :Are you nearly in the air?:

:I'm just lifting-- whoa, eek, sorry Tracks! -- uh I'm just lifting off now, wow, I hope he's okay…:

:Did you forget to check your airspace again?:

:Maybe? But he's fine, he's just shouting at me on the comms-- I said I was sorry… maybe I'd better say it again…:

Fireflight rose from the city, quickly gaining height and speed to match theirs. A slight scuff of blue paint on his wing tip explained why Tracks might have a few words to say. Silverbolt considered opening a comm channel to apologise on Fireflight's behalf, but decided against it. Fireflight had to deal with his own mistakes, and he was definitely getting better at it.

:Come on then.: Silverbolt broke out of the holding pattern and climbed towards cloud level. He was dizzyingly aware of their height as always, but he pushed it aside, knowing that the clouds would block his view of the ground below and give him a sense of security. :Skydive, Slingshot, are you guys set?:

:We're good to go as soon as you reach the coast,: replied Skydive. :The human pilots say we'll have cloud cover the whole way there.:

:Great. I'll comm you when we're over land.:

They were inside the thick overcast now. Silverbolt could feel the damp of the clouds on his plating, but pressed onwards and upwards. A few seconds later, the greyness above them lightened, then thinned, and then suddenly they were flying beneath blue sky with the ruffled white tops of the cloud layer below them.

:Ah, that's better.: Air Raid rolled from side to side, enjoying the sun on his wings. :Sucks to be Slingshot and Skydive, staying under that lot.:

:They need the cover.: Silverbolt was monitoring his sensors carefully; without being able to see below the clouds, he had to calculate their position on his instruments. :We can't risk the convoy coming under attack, not when so many humans are involved.:

It was the biggest delivery of materials to Autobot City yet, including some much-needed microcomponents and a shipment of platinum that Skyfire was counting on. It was becoming harder and harder to hide the activity around the site, and soon even Hound's holograms wouldn't be able to conceal its location. Prowl had decided to consolidate as much as possible into this one shipment, making it easier to defend. The flip side was that if it did come under attack, they stood to lose a lot. Which was why Silverbolt was leading two of his brothers into a carefully crafted diversion.

They were to pick up a shipment of metal components - useful but not vital - from a factory in Europe. Jazz had arranged for their communications to be more careless than usual, hoping the Decepticons would pick up on it. His latest intel suggested that they had.

Although they were almost certain to come under attack, Silverbolt wasn't nervous about the mission. The factory was a military installation, heavily defended by human weaponry, and the humans in question had willingly agreed to help fend off any Decepticon involvement. Silverbolt's orders were to keep well out of reach of any Decepticons who came calling - the main purpose of the exercise was to have them focused on the factory while the Autobots' real concern, the materials shipment, was being transferred on another continent.

The Decepticon force on Earth was noticeably shrunken these days. By Prowl's calculations, the most they could spare for interception would be the Stunticons - and though Motormaster's gestalt was a formidable force, they often functioned poorly as a team. Silverbolt thought the human emplacements could handle them with assistance from the Aerialbots. He still would have felt happier if all five of them had been there - not least because they would then have been able to combine into Superion if necessary to counter Menasor - but the convoy needed air cover as well. In addition to sending Slingshot and Skydive to fly with the human pilots heading up the shipment, Silverbolt had posted Skyfire in a low geosynchronous orbit that would place him ready to dive into the atmosphere and come to the convoy's aid if there was trouble.

Silverbolt's sensors told him that they were now over water. The whole of the Atlantic lay between them and their target. He and his brothers could fly considerably faster than any human aircraft. They would reach their target within three hours. In the meantime he sent a quick update to Skydive, then did the same for Skyfire.

:It seems quiet up here,: Skyfire replied. :Except I caught a flash of something entering atmosphere over the North Pole. I was too low to see it properly around the curve of the planet. It could have been a meteorite, but I've notified Prowl.:

:Last I heard, all their space-capable troops were on Cybertron. Cosmos would have picked them up if they were coming in from outside the solar system, and Mirage would have reported the space bridge opening if they'd come in that way.:

:I know, but we've had a few instances lately of Decepticons turning up in places they weren't supposed to be.:

:I agree. Let me know if you see anything else.:

:Of course. Be careful, won't you? Don't do too good a job as bait.:

:We'll keep out of the way and let the human artillery cover us,: Silverbolt promised. :Our ETA is two hours, forty-seven minutes. I'll comm you and Skydive when we reach land.:

:Got it.:

It had been a while since Silverbolt had flown long-distance. He found he was enjoying it. Even when the clouds thinned out, the ocean beneath them was far less frightening than land - it was easy to lose his sense of scale and feel as though he were flying just above the water. The sun was bright and warm, and he chatted with Air Raid and Fireflight as they settled in to the flight. It almost felt like a holiday, though he was careful to keep his scanners running and his comm channels clear.

*

Later, Air Raid could pinpoint the exact moment everything went wrong.

It wasn't when the Stunticons showed up, because Silverbolt had expected that. And it wasn't when they combined into Menasor, because Silverbolt had expected that, too, and Air Raid knew what to do.

It wasn't even when Air Raid, busily harrying Menasor from behind, was caught in a hail of anti-aircraft fire, and Fireflight squawked an alarm over the comms as two unpleasantly familiar forms rose from cover to sit on his tail. As far as anyone knew the Combaticons should have been on Cybertron, but even then, Air Raid was sure they could handle it. The human artillery was incredibly efficient, keeping the Decepticons away from the factory. As soon as Silverbolt realised they were facing two full gestalts, he issued new orders that pulled the three of them back within the covering fire laid down by their allies. It was a siege situation now, but one in which they could hold out indefinitely. Once the shipment had been delivered safely, Skyfire would be able to bring them backup. They just had to be patient.

Air Raid had never been very good at being patient, but he entertained himself by taking pot shots at Onslaught (fragger had caught his tail fin with that first burst of fire) and taunting Blast Off and Blackout over the comms. They were doing okay. They'd get out of this.

The exact moment everything went wrong was when Astrotrain, Blitzwing and Octane came screaming down from high atmosphere, pouring a deluge of laser fire onto the Aerialbots from above. Each of them bolted in a different direction; they were sitting ducks and Air Raid knew the Triplechangers had the firepower to take them down fast if they didn't get out of range quickly.

:Get as high as you can and as far away as you can--: Silverbolt shouted over the comms, before cutting out abruptly.

He didn't just cut out on the comm. Their gestalt link flared and went quiet the way it did when one of them was unconscious. Wheeling through the sky, dodging fire from all directions, Air Raid tried desperately to catch sight of his brother. He thought he saw the Stunticons converging on a silver smear on the ground, but then Blackout was closing with him and Onslaught was plugging away with that terrible gun of his…

Air Raid never even saw the shots that knocked him out of the sky.

*

Silverbolt came back to consciousness knowing to the depths of his spark that he was in trouble. Even before he could fully comprehend his surroundings, he was aware that the sounds were all wrong. There was a hollow echo behind the gurgle and whirr of complex systems, and a sensation of pressure confirmed by his altimeter's hazy readings. He was below sea level.

He already knew he would see dull violet metal when he onlined his optics. He tensed, waiting for some acknowledgement of his awakening, but none came. Slowly, his optics recalibrated themselves. There was still no sound from anywhere nearby. Silverbolt pushed himself up on one elbow, braced for an attack.

He was alone in a small cell. His diagnostics were reporting damage, but the only wounds that had been at any risk of offlining him had been patched up. He ran his fingers over the unfamiliar welds, grimacing. He hated the idea that Hook or Scrapper had been at his systems.

The fact that they'd repaired him was a good sign, though. It wasn't uncommon for prisoners of war to be taken by both sides. What was unique to this particular conflict was that they were generally released quickly. Prisoners were costly to keep: they required energon and accommodation, both of which were at a premium on Earth. Optimus Prime would never have countenanced the killing of Decepticon prisoners; Megatron might have felt differently about the Autobots he captured, but considered them too valuable to deactivate. Prisoners could be traded for concessions, or for the release of one's own troops. Most of the Autobots had seen the inside of the Nemesis's cells at one time or another, and most of the Decepticons had been locked up in the Ark on occasion.

Currently the Autobots had no Decepticon prisoners. Which meant that whatever Megatron planned to bargain for was likely to be something the Autobots could ill afford. Silverbolt silently berated himself for getting captured, even though he knew the attack had been utterly unpredictable. How were the Decepticons getting their troops between Earth and Cybertron without passing through Cosmos's perimeter or using the space bridge? All signs pointed to a second space bridge somewhere the Autobots had yet to discover, but Skyfire, Cosmos and Omega Supreme had surveyed every square mile of the Earth's surface from space…

Thinking of Skyfire sent a pang through Silverbolt. He'd be worried. That thought led onto his gestalt. He'd known from the moment he awakened that none of them were nearby. That was a relief, but also concerning. He doubted Air Raid and Fireflight could have escaped the ambush, but if they'd been shot down, wouldn't they have been taken prisoner along with him? He tried his comms out of habit, but was unsurprised that they were all jammed. He tried feeling his way along the gestalt link - but his brothers were very far away. All he knew was that they were alive and conscious. At least, he consoled himself, they'd be able to tell the same about him.

Silverbolt sat up on the edge of the berth and immediately noticed one oddity: the cell was not bounded by a forcefield, but had a heavy iron door set in one wall. He had never been held on the Nemesis before, but he had dutifully read Jazz's briefing notes for all officers on the known layout of the Decepticon base. He was sure their cell block was similar to the Ark's, a series of open-fronted rooms with forcefields separating them from the corridor.

The berth was strange, too. It was set in the middle of the room, away from the walls, and Silverbolt was unsettled to see restraints at each corner - though he had not been tied down with them.

He had an idea of what that meant, but he flinched from accepting it. No Autobot had ever given information under torture. The Decepticons had eventually tired of it, except for occasional, sadistic acts of revenge - but Megatron had put a stop even to that once he'd realised that he could get more out of Optimus Prime if he promised delivery of prisoners unharmed. Would he make an exception if he felt there was more to be gained from it than from bargaining?

Crushing the panic that threatened to well up in his spark, Silverbolt forced himself to think back to the training he'd received from Jazz. He began to carefully shut down certain pain relays and to build in extra firewalls around his core functions. He had to go slowly - he wasn't able to code on the fly the way Skyfire could - but he remembered the instructions clearly enough to be confident they would work. Perhaps he was overreacting - probably if they'd meant to torture him he wouldn't have been permitted to awaken until they were ready - but he felt a little better once he'd finished.

Then he settled in to wait. And wait. And wait some more.

Almost four hours passed with no sound of approach, no comm contact, no indication that there was anyone but him aboard the Nemesis. Silverbolt caught himself imagining the base completely abandoned, deep below the water, himself locked in a room with no exit and no-one to hear him if he called out… He clamped down on the horror. He began going through flight exercises in his processor to keep himself distracted.

Finally, Silverbolt heard a door slide open and the sound of footsteps - two pairs - in the corridor outside. There was a pause as someone worked the door lock - a big mechanical thing by the sound of it, rather than an electronic code pad. Silverbolt had already considered and discarded the idea of rushing the door when it opened. There was no window to let those outside see him, but he'd spotted a camera in one corner that could easily be feeding images to a monitor just outside.

The door swung open, revealing Soundwave, gun in hand and trained on Silverbolt. Without a word, he stepped into the cell.

He was followed by Starscream.

Silverbolt bit back his reaction, silenced the urge to demand how the Pit Starscream was here on Earth when last reports had placed him firmly in Kaon, why he was here when he had seemed so thoroughly occupied by his projects in the Decepticon capital…

The smirk on Starscream's face answered that question and left Silverbolt cold and afraid, truly afraid, for the first time.

"So," said Starscream, pulling the door shut behind him and leaning against it with his arms folded and that triumphant smirk mocking Silverbolt as their optics locked. "I believe we have some… unfinished business."

Chapter Text

In all the time since he'd awakened on Earth, Skyfire had never seen Jazz lose his cool. His laid-back, easy-going attitude was as much a part of his skill set as his special ops training - he always gave the impression that he knew what was going to happen ahead of time.

"How the frag are they doin' it?" Jazz wasn't quite yelling, but it was close. Prowl, the apparent target of the question, didn't look up from his console. "I swear to Primus there was no fragging way they coulda come back here without us knowin' about it!"

"Clearly they've found a third option," replied Prowl, still without looking up. "How badly does this impact on your ability to predict their troop deployments?"

"How badly does it-- Prowl, it totally slags my 'ability t' predict their troop deployments', I ain't got a clue who's gonna show up where right now, for all I know Megatron's sittin' right next door an'--"

"Then we need to alter our strategy."

"No shit we need to--"

"Enough, Jazz." Optimus Prime had been standing by the window, apparently absorbed by his thoughts, but he turned now to look at his third in command. "Have we received any communication at all?"

"No. Nothin'." Jazz finally stopped pacing and flung himself into a chair. "Megatron's not answering."

Skyfire shot a glance at Skydive, the only Aerialbot currently in the briefing room with them. Air Raid and Fireflight were in med bay. They'd both been shot down, but the swift and heroic actions of some human engineers had kept them stable until Skyfire had arrived with reinforcements. By that time the Decepticons had been long gone - taking Silverbolt with them.

"He's still out," Skydive said, not loud enough for anyone but Skyfire to hear. "I don't like it. He shouldn't be going in and out of consciousness like this. And I don't know why the connection is so damped down when he's awake."

Skyfire could guess: if Silverbolt was in pain from his wounds, he'd likely be doing his best to keep it out of the gestalt link, knowing how frantic it would make his brothers. Skyfire felt cold inside thinking of Silverbolt drifting between stasis and wakefulness, fighting to protect them even from such a distance.

Optimus had moved over to Prowl's console, looking over his shoulder. "Well?"

"There's an 87% probability that the sole purpose of the attack was to take prisoners," Prowl replied. "The tactics deployed were aimed at disabling the Aerialbots as swiftly as possible and escaping before help could arrive."

"Yet they only took Silverbolt."

"Indeed. I believe it is likely that he was the primary target. They do not seem to have made any effort to secure Fireflight or Air Raid after they brought them down."

Skyfire had been afraid of that. As afraid as he was of asking the other question in his processor: just how sure were they that Starscream was still on Cybertron?

"In that case, Megatron must have a specific goal in mind," Optimus was saying. "In terms of sheer strategic value - much though I hate to quantify our individual worth - Silverbolt is crucial, both as Air Commander and as Superion's central component. If Megatron has gone out of his way to capture him, it can only be because he needs leverage over us to further his plans."

"So we're just going to wait?" Skydive's voice was level, but his body was rigid with tension. "We're just going to leave him there until Megatron gets around to calling us?"

Prowl looked up sharply, about to reprimand him for impertinence, perhaps - but Optimus came around the table to lay a hand on Skydive's shoulder.

"No," he said, "we are going to send out our special ops team to reconnoitre the Nemesis and gauge whether we can attempt a rescue. I am also going to attempt to contact Megatron directly. It will tip our hand somewhat, but he already knows how important Silverbolt is to us - otherwise he would not have targeted him so specifically."

Skyfire realised he couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"There is one other potential factor," he said.

Optimus looked over at him enquiringly. Skyfire had been dreading the moment when he would have to breach the divide between his personal history and his duty as an Autobot - but with Silverbolt in danger, he had no choice.

"Starscream has recently developed a strong personal grudge against Silverbolt," Skyfire said, choosing his words carefully. "He has already gone out of his way to attack Silverbolt once, and I believe possibly more than once. If it's him who is behind this, not Megatron..."

"Starscream could not have pulled that many troops away from their deployments without Megatron's knowledge," Prowl said. "And we have good intel that he is still in Kaon--"

"Frag that." Jazz was on his feet again, pacing. "We had good intel he was in Kaon two days ago. We also had good intel the Combaticons were workin' in Kalis an' the Triplechangers were causin' Ultra Magnus trouble over Iacon. Everythin' else we thought we knew about their movements is turnin' out to be wrong. An' since when did Starscream wait for Megatron's say-so before he does what he wants? If Megatron's busy somewhere else, he might not even know."

"And in that case we cannot count on Silverbolt's release," said Optimus grimly. "We will proceed as discussed - Jazz, get your team ready. But I'm authorising you to move in without hesitation if you believe Silverbolt is in danger."

*

Silverbolt was alone again when he came back to consciousness. Or at least, he seemed to be. On at least one occasion, Soundwave had done... something... so that Silverbolt hadn't known he was there to start with. Silverbolt strained to detect any hint that Soundwave was manipulating his sensors, but as far as he could tell, there truly was no-one in the cell with him.

He guarded his thoughts nonetheless. Soundwave had been probing him ceaselessly for information about the Autobots' current plans. Silverbolt took a certain satisfaction in Soundwave's poorly hidden frustration that he had not been able to get any of his spies into Autobot facilities for some time. Blaster and his cassettes had made sure of that. But in between his attempts at information gathering from Silverbolt, he had pursued a secondary goal: he intended to find out how the Autobots had circumvented the jamming device that had been used in the battle when the Decepticons took back the space bridge. He had surmised - correctly - that Slingshot's gestalt link had given warning. Now he was trying to tap into Silverbolt's link directly, using neural interface connectors and his own innate psychic abilities. It was horrifyingly like having something crawling inside his processor - no, worse, inside his spark - but Silverbolt had clamped the link shut as hard as he could, and so far he thought that Soundwave had been unable to touch the rest of his gestalt through it.

As for Starscream, he claimed - loudly and with complete insincerity - to be motivated by similar scientific curiosity as he opened Silverbolt's casing piece by piece to examine his systems. He took particular interest in the electrical battery which Silverbolt had used to great effect on him in various battles. He wondered aloud what would happen if he inverted it to run current through Silverbolt's spark chamber. Silverbolt said nothing, knowing that his silence was the only weapon he had.

He was increasingly convinced that Megatron knew nothing of his capture. It had been almost two days - assuming his chronometer was still accurate, which it might not be, and for that matter, what if Soundwave was messing with his processor and making him think it had been longer - or less time - or--- Silverbolt shut down the thought. It had been almost two days since his capture, and Starscream and Soundwave had been working on him with very few breaks. It was unlike Soundwave to defy Megatron, let alone to ally with Starscream, but Silverbolt guessed that he had his own score to settle. Jazz's intel had revealed that Soundwave had been out of action for months after his jamming device backfired on him.

Silverbolt was secured to the berth now. Starscream had seemed to want him to try something the first few times, leaving him free after they left, but then the Seeker had hit on a new way of tormenting him - he'd stopped halfway through an extensive procedure on Silverbolt's arm, idly noted that he needed to refuel, and left Silverbolt strapped down with half his arm circuitry hanging out. That had been one of the worst moments so far. If Starscream had wanted to terrify Silverbolt with the extent of his own helplessness - and knowing Starscream, he had probably wanted exactly that - he had succeeded. Since then he had not bothered to untie Silverbolt between sessions.

Right now Silverbolt's casing was mostly closed. He didn't know exactly what Starscream had been doing. His diagnostics were coming back confused, and he couldn't trust them. He didn't think Starscream had taken anything out that he needed, but he had gone into involuntary stasis several times and couldn't be sure. That was another level of terror - that his systems might have been fundamentally altered and he couldn't tell...

There was a sound from the corridor outside - the further door swooshing open. Silverbolt offlined his optics despairingly. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

The footsteps that came down the corridor were different from either Soundwave's heavy, deliberate tread or Starscream's quick stride. They paused outside the heavy door. After a few seconds, the lock began to grind slowly through its cycles. It sounded like it was being forced. Silverbolt switched his optics back on and turned his head towards the door, hardly daring to hope...

The door finally swung open. For a moment there seemed to be no-one there. Then a quick burst of laser fire disabled the camera in Silverbolt's cell, and Mirage appeared out of nowhere to step through the doorway.

"Found him," he said curtly into his handheld stealth comm. He quickly began work on the restraints holding Silverbolt down. "Can you walk?"

"I don't know." Awash with relief, Silverbolt bullied his diagnostics into giving him something approximating an answer. "I don't think so."

"We'll need to carry him," Mirage said into the comm. For all his brusque manner, he was gentle as he lifted Silverbolt into a sitting position, and his field was sharp with an anger that Silverbolt found comforting. "We don't have much time," he added. "Jazz will meet us at the end of the corridor. Do you need painkillers?"

"No. I'm sore but they haven't been hurting me - at least, not on purpose."

"Let's try and move you, then."

Silverbolt's legs weren't working right and his servos in general obeyed him only sluggishly. He thought some of the relays had been severed, and others rerouted. Starscream had been experimenting on him as casually as Skyfire might rewire a piece of lab equipment. Now that the prospect of escape was close, Silverbolt found he had the capacity to be quite astonishingly angry about that.

Mirage was able to half-carry him out into the corridor, but it was clear he would not be able to easily navigate the Nemesis that way. Fortunately Jazz was waiting for them, accompanied by Bumblebee. Bumblebee rushed forward at once, while Jazz checked the corridor outside before moving over to help.

"You okay?" he asked, expertly looping an arm behind Silverbolt's wings to support him. "I mean, 'smuch as you can be."

"I'm okay. As much as I can be."

"Mirage, go on ahead an' keep a lookout. We're gonna have to try an' get up to the launch tower before they figure out what's goin' on an' bring it back down."

"How did you get in?" Silverbolt asked as they moved off at a slow, but steady pace.

"Waited 'til they had a patrol comin' back, then your team took 'em on. Seaspray got us out to wait for the tower to go up an' we headed down. Took longer than we hoped because you weren't in the usual cells."

Jazz waved silent Silverbolt's next question as they approached an intersection. From somewhere up ahead, Mirage gave a low whistle to signal the all clear.

"Are Air Raid and Fireflight--"

"Should bel in medbay but they insisted on flying with the others," Bumblebee said, with more than a hint of approval.

Silverbolt smiled weakly. He had more questions, but he could wait for the answers.

It took a painfully long time to reach the upper levels of the Decepticon base. Silverbolt was constantly tensed for null ray fire or that queasy touch that would mean Soundwave was trying to dampen their awareness... but neither came. Twice they had to hide as Decepticons rushed by (it was tempting to trip Motormaster, but he wasn't foolish enough to try) but no alarm had been sounded that they could tell. Silverbolt was afraid to believe they would make it as Jazz helped him into the elevator that would take them to the top of the launch tower.

It was almost too easy. All at once, doubt flooded Silverbolt. Was Soundwave interfering with his thoughts again? Was he really about to escape, or was he still tied to the berth? He went back over everything he'd said since Mirage had opened the door. He hadn't let anything slip, had he? No - just straightforward conversation. It felt real enough. He was in field contact with Bumblebee and Jazz - but both had their fields pulled in tightly, part of their standard stealth operating procedure. Silverbolt was almost sure Soundwave couldn't fake full field contact, but could he manage an approximation of this muffled brushing of energy?

The elevator lumbered upwards. The change of pressure as they ascended towards the ocean surface upset Silverbolt's gyros and made him dizzy. He offlined his optics. If he concentrated, could he feel the berth beneath him, the restraints tying him down? He almost could. Was there a way he could wake up? A way to escape this cruel pretence of rescue?

"Silverbolt? You still with us?"

Jazz's voice snapped him back to alertness. The elevator was slowing. It couldn't be an illusion - Soundwave's earlier effort had hinged on subtle manipulation of Silverbolt's awareness and his exhausted state. This was too complicated, too extensive. He began to hope again.

Scrapper and Scavenger were at the tower controls, keeping watch on the exit and the battle taking place in the sky outside. They didn't think to look and see who was coming out of the elevator, so Mirage and Jazz took them down easily. Mirage paused to look at the control panel as the others hurried past.

"Oh no. Jazz, the aerial fighters have been recalled."

Jazz swore and craned his head up as they reached the wide exit. Silverbolt could see the far off dots that were Decepticon flyers and his own team, interspersed with flashes of laser fire. Were some of those dots getting closer?

:Seaspray!: Jazz barked over the comms. :You ready? We need t' go now!:

:I'm here, but the sea's rough,: came Seaspray's reply.:You need to time it perfectly or you'll end up in the water.:

Silverbolt shuddered, thinking of the long elevator journey upwards and imagining it in reverse, with the cold, dark seawater rushing into every intake. How was he going to get onto Seaspray's deck with his legs refusing to obey him? But he had no choice - those dots were definitely closer now. In fact, one of them had rushed ahead of the others, moving so fast it must be tearing the sky apart, arrowing in on their position...

His spark jumped as he realised he could make out the profile of the approaching flyer - much bigger than any of the Seekers, far too bright to be Astrotrain.

:I've got a better idea,: said Skyfire. Silverbolt hadn't even realised that Jazz's transmission had been on the open band. :Move back from the edge. I'll need to partially transform to turn around.:

:I like the way you think, Skyfire,: replied Jazz with a grin that Silverbolt could see even if the others couldn't. :Okay Seascape, head out of here, we don't wanna leave you behind t' face the music.:

Skyfire was close enough now for Silverbolt to see him clearly - his white paint blazing in the watery sunlight and his Autobot blazons clear and proud on his wings. Jazz and Bumblebee pressed themselves against the far wall, keeping Silverbolt with them. The elevator chimed urgently and began to descend into the tower again.

"Company's on the way," Bumblebee said.

Mirage took out his gun without a word, positioned himself just beside the elevator doors, and faded from view. But the long distance down worked to their advantage now. As the elevator reached the Decepticon base, Skyfire was landing on the launch pad. With a deft flick of his transformation mechanism, he briefly sprouted legs for long enough to spin himself around in the enclosed space, then settled back into his alt mode, doors sliding open.

The elevator was on its way up again.

"C'mon," Jazz shouted in Mirage's general direction as he and Bumblebee hauled Silverbolt over to Skyfire's ramp. As soon as they were inside, Jazz pushed Silverbolt towards one of the chairs and turned back to cover the elevator doors. Bumblebee took a second to make sure Silverbolt had something to hang onto, then rushed to join him. "Skyfire, get us out o' here."

"With pleasure."

Mirage flickered into visibility again, diving for the ramp. Jazz threw out a hand and hauled him aboard even as Skyfire shot forward. Silverbolt saw the launch tower fall away below them before Skyfire closed his doors. The force of their acceleration threw him against the wall of Skyfire's cockpit. He reached out frantically and automatically for field contact, and when Skyfire's field entwined firmly with his, any doubts about the reality of the escape vanished. He let himself down to sit on the floor and grabbed on to handholds that thrummed faintly with the working of Skyfire's systems. He offlined his optics and leaned his head back against Skyfire's plating, the horror of the last few days temporarily receding.

:Are you hurt?: whispered Skyfire over private comm, even as he climbed skyward with thrusters on full burn. :Did they-- are you okay?:

:I'm okay.: Silverbolt realised he no longer needed to suppress his gestalt link. He let it open fully, and felt the immediate press of concern, love and protectiveness from his brothers flying to meet them. :I'm okay now.:

*

Skyfire almost wished he hadn’t been included in the debrief. It was even worse than he’d feared to listen to Silverbolt recount what had been done to him. He was dispassionate and clinical, but Skyfire, sitting next to him, could sense the iron control he was exerting over his emotions as he spoke. Careful not to distract him, Skyfire reached under the table and took his hand. The way Silverbolt’s fingers clamped onto his said even more than his field.

"It troubles me that Soundwave was so focused on our resource movements," Optimus said when Silverbolt had finished, and everyone had sat in silence for a few moments. "It implies the Decepticons may have more information than we had hoped regarding Autobot City."

"It certainly makes sense to take Silverbolt, in that case," Prowl said. "Megatron knows he would have to be involved in the logistics of any large-scale project and he might think Silverbolt would be an easier target for interrogation - though he would be wrong on that score, naturally."

"I’m still not convinced that Megatron even knew I was there," Silverbolt replied. He had not let go of Skyfire’s hand, but he appeared cool and professional to everyone else at the table. "And Soundwave’s interrogation seemed almost perfunctory. I had the sense that both he and Starscream were more interested in... the other things, than getting information out of me."

"If it was information about gestalt function they were after, why not look to their own?" asked Ratchet.

"Perhaps Megatron draws the line at experimentation on his own troops," Skyfire suggested, shifting the hand that held Silverbolt’s so that he could run a thumb soothingly over the backs of Silverbolt’s fingers.

"I truly don’t think they cared much for what they would find out." Silverbolt glanced down at his datapad, a cover for the surge of dread in his field as he contemplated what he was about to say. "It felt like revenge. On both their parts, but Starscream... has a particular grudge against me."

"So Skyfire told us." Optimus gave Silverbolt a compassionate look that Skyfire thought contained a deeper understanding than he would say aloud. "But the coincidence of Starscream choosing to express such a grudge just as we are moving into the next phase on Autobot City is worrisome, if it is a coincidence. Red Alert is double- and triple-checking the reports and logs from the shipment to be sure the attack on you wasn’t a counter-decoy while they slipped spies into the city."

Skyfire knew that there was a significant possibility it had been a coincidence - that Starscream’s infamous obsessive streak had simply overridden all other concerns, all other orders he had from Megatron, that he had been watching and waiting for Silverbolt to leave base with a small enough force to be easily overwhelmed, and taken the chance presented to him. He felt a wave of guilt and frustration at the thought that Optimus might change the Autobots’ plans because of this, this feud that Starscream had engaged in. He should have realised that Starscream wouldn’t let go so easily. He’d been fooling himself, in the years before he met Silverbolt, when he’d hidden in his lab and kept out of the way of conflict, that Starscream would forget about him as easily as he longed to forget about Starscream. He should have realised what the consequences might be if he pursued any sort of close relationship with Silverbolt - but there had never been a moment when he’d made any sort of choice in that regard - it had just happened, gradually and naturally and far more easily than he’d ever deserved...

Silverbolt’s hand tightened on his again, but this time it was concern for him that slipped through their mingled fields. Skyfire smoothed over his churning emotions and hid his thoughts. He was guiltily aware that he was doing it more and more often when in field contact with Silverbolt.

"We dare not take the chance," Optimus continued after a moment. "We have to assume that at least some of our plans are known to the Decepticons, and react accordingly. I believe we must accelerate work on the city's guardian, and seek out a spark for it as soon as possible."

Skyfire wanted to speak out in disagreement, to tell Optimus not to give Starscream so much credit - an echo of Silverbolt's admonition to him - but could he absolutely, definitely guarantee that the Decepticons had no knowledge of Autobot City? No. Optimus was right - they had to assume the worst if they were to preserve everything they had worked so hard for. He tried not to let the surge of guilt reach Silverbolt.

"I will consult with Wheeljack and Hoist," Prowl was saying. "As soon as they can give me an estimation of time to completion, we will reassign everyone's duties."

"Very well." Optimus rose from his seat, signalling the end of the meeting. "In that case, I suggest we adjourn. Silverbolt - I want you off duty for the next three days, at least. Don't even do paperwork - make sure you are completely recovered."

"Yes, sir," Silverbolt replied. Skyfire caught a flicker of uncharacteristic rebellion in his field. He doubted Silverbolt would be able to stay completely away from his reports

"You don't need to come back to med bay," Ratchet added as they all got to their feet, "but no flying until I say so. I want to check all your relays again before I clear you to leave the base."

Silverbolt nodded, and Skyfire sensed no desire to disobey that order at all. His spark turned in its chamber again as he thought of the mess Starscream had made of Silverbolt's systems. He was intending to accompany Silverbolt as much as possible for the next few weeks. He remembered all too vividly how they had first met; he would not take even the smallest chance of Silverbolt falling out of the sky a second time thanks to Starscream's interference.

"Let's go," Silverbolt said quietly as the officers left. "I want to see my brothers."

*

Silverbolt's brothers were understandably reluctant to let him out of their sight - or, in fact, physically let go of him. Skyfire had expected that, and didn't mind it. What he hadn't expected was how readily and completely they included him in the perpetually shifting mass of hugs, touches, and other reassurances they exchanged. He hadn't expected to be swept along to their new shared quarters, and drawn into a comfortable heap on one of the adaptable couches Grapple had designed for them, surreptitiously nudged closer to Silverbolt as the others slowly relaxed into the kind of arguments and bickering that were, he now knew, entirely affectionate. Silverbolt curled up against his side, listened more than he talked, and radiated a relief that went a long way towards settling Skyfire's own troubled spark.

He listened to Air Raid and Slingshot coming up with increasingly creative revenges to enact on Starscream. The uncomplicated intensity of their anger loosened something that had been strangling his spark. There had been a part of him trying to defend Starscream all this time on Earth - the same part that had made excuses for him at the Academy when his actions were inexcusable. But as time passed, Skyfire found himself less and less able to muster even the pretence of understanding - and he had felt paradoxically guilty for it. Other Autobots railing against the Decepticon Air Commander had only made him feel worse, as though he ought to be contradicting them, even when contradiction was impossible.

But with two loyalties brought into such sharp conflict - his old, battered, nearly-dead-but-not-quite connection to Starscream, and the startlingly intense feelings he had for Silverbolt - there could be no contest. And he could bear to listen to the Aerialbots discussing ways to shoot Starscream down and lock him up forever, because in the depths of his spark, he had been thinking the same thing for so long and trying to pretend he didn’t... and because their anger was as personal and as painful as his own. They all loved Silverbolt, after all.

The tail end of that thought shook him, but before he could follow it, Fireflight was tugging his arm for attention.

"Bluestreak said that Jazz said that Teletraan-2 has a whole bunch of movies from Cybertron, way more than Teletraan-1, and Silverbolt said you’d show us the best ones—"

"I said that he might have more idea than I do about which ones to watch," Silverbolt interjected. "Although judging by your usual viewing, anything with explosions and things moving very fast would do."

"We watched that one with the boat and the kissing."

"And you all cheered when it sank. I heard you."

"That was the good bit," said Air Raid. "Everyone stopped moping around and started doing stuff. It was awesome."

Skyfire had no idea which human movie they were talking about, but he could think of a few Cybertronian ones that would probably fit into the Aerialbots’ idea of entertainment. There were even one or two that he liked, and thought Silverbolt would as well. It wasn’t explosions and things going fast, he suspected, that appealed to the young jets so much as adventure. And in their prime, Cybertron’s studios had done adventure like no-one else. They had a galaxy to explore on camera and, until the beginning of the energon crisis, no reason not to go as far as they could.

Air Raid tossed him a remote - another new addition to the general tech level in Autobot City - and Skyfire began paging through the catalogue of media available. Fireflight - or Bluestreak - or Jazz - had been right about the scope compared to Teletraan-1. There were titles there that gave him a shock of recognition and delight, like coming across an old friend unexpectedly. He navigated through the genres and sub-genres until he found the series he was looking for. He’d always liked it for the glorious vistas of alien worlds and the solid scientific background to the storylines; he suspected that the others would appreciate the fact that one of the characters appeared to be a long lost prototype of one or both of the Twins, and tended not to bother with minor details like looking before he leapt.

"Well, things are certainly going fast and exploding," Silverbolt murmured after the introduction sequence.

Skyfire laughed and, trusting that the others were absorbed in the screen, dropped a kiss on top of his helm.

"It gets a little more complex, I promise. And I think you’ll like the main character."

The movie was a hit with everyone. To Skyfire it looked dated - he winced once or twice at the places where current scientific knowledge had outpaced that of the time - but its familiarity was like a warm oil bath. The characters were as much fun as he remembered, and the plot as hectic and improbable. Silverbolt laughed at the same places Skyfire did, while his brothers shouted at the screen every time someone missed the obvious, and took a genuine and obvious pleasure in seeing their own kind playing the parts for once instead of humans. Skyfire was almost surprised by the success of his choice. He'd thought Slingshot might refuse to enjoy it on principle, or that Skydive might pick the plot holes to pieces - but whatever last vestiges of wariness had lain between him and Silverbolt's brothers seemed to have ebbed away. They acted as though he were one of them.

It was... not entirely a comfortable sensation. He was so used to solitude and independence... he was almost afraid of the way they seemed to have accepted him now. He wasn't sure if he could live up to whatever it was they expected from him... like the way Fireflight was so sure he could choose the right movie for them. Or the way they'd all turned to him while Silverbolt was in Decepticon hands. Or the way Silverbolt trusted him to always be there, to catch him if he fell...

Silverbolt must have felt something in his field. He shifted, and suddenly he was in Skyfire's lap. From that higher vantage point he could lean his head against Skyfire's, which he did. His optics were still on the screen, but Skyfire sensed the gentle - and oh so careful not to pry - question through their contact. He wrapped his arms around Silverbolt and focused on the movie, chasing the thoughts away. Slingshot and Air Raid were taking bets on how long it would be before the alien monster the characters had all forgotten about came bursting in through the airlock.

The movie was a hit. Let that be all that mattered for now.

*

Skyfire thought he would be expected to go back to his quarters after the movie - leave Silverbolt with his brothers. He was simultaneously glad of the chance to be alone, and dreading having to let go of Silverbolt. But it turned out Silverbolt had other ideas.

"Stay," he murmured as his brothers chaotically untangled themselves from their comfortable sprawl, arguing cheerfully about which bit had been best. "I think I might be able to recharge now."

Skyfire couldn't have said no. He didn't even really want to. He helped Silverbolt up and got to his feet.

All at once all four of the others were looking at them. As quickly as it happened, it passed, the Aerialbots exchanging glances and (in Air Raid's case) smirks, as they began to disperse to their own rooms. Skyfire had the alarming impression he had just been granted permission to stay. He supposed that was better than the alternative.

"You going to bed?" Air Raid asked. Something about his tone implied he had chosen the phrasing specifically to suggest other possibilities than recharge.

"Yes," replied Silverbolt, either missing or deliberately ignoring the subtext.

"See you later!" chirped Fireflight.

Skyfire let himself be towed over to Silverbolt's room. Whatever Air Raid thought, he was fairly sure Silverbolt wanted nothing more than to recharge right now.

It turned out Silverbolt had other ideas about that, as well. As soon as the door closed behind them, Skyfire found himself shoved firmly down onto the berth and thoroughly, breathlessly kissed. Silverbolt was almost frantic, and it was all Skyfire could do to hold onto him and kiss back as his systems raced under the onslaught of longing that sluiced through him. This was the first time they'd been alone since Silverbolt had collapsed in Skyfire's hold. Skyfire hadn't even realised just how much he'd needed to properly touch and hold Silverbolt until he found himself almost denting Silverbolt's plating with the force of his grip. Silverbolt didn't seem to mind, from the way he moaned into the kiss. Skyfire pulled back just enough to see his optics dimmed with pleasure. A shudder of need went through him. He pressed a kiss to Silverbolt's cheek.

"Will you be okay? Are your repairs--"

"I'll tell you if anything feels wrong." Silverbolt pushed himself upright, sitting astride Skyfire's waist. He smiled with a faintly wicked overtone of satisfaction when Skyfire's intakes caught at the sight of him. "Ratchet gave me the all clear, though."

"Still, I don't want you to push yourself or--"

Silverbolt pressed a thumb to his lips, forcing him to fall silent.

"Trust me to judge that for myself."

The thumb was replaced by Silverbolt's mouth as he dived forward to initiate another kiss. Skyfire grabbed the back of his helm and angled him in closer. The weight of Silverbolt's body settling over his set every sensor relay tingling and made his spark heat with stunning speed.

He had been so careful, when they'd started this, not to compare Silverbolt to Starscream - but it had turned out to be like comparing nuts and bolts. Silverbolt was so different - inexperienced but quick to learn - a little shy but completely unafraid - willing to take a more dominant role or to let Skyfire take the lead by turns - and overall, taking such obvious joy in the act of interfacing with Skyfire. Skyfire had once thought that no-one would ever be able to make him feel the way Starscream had. He was grateful and amazed beyond words to discover that it wasn't true - and that below Silverbolt's calm and controlled exterior there lay a depth of passion that had the power to bowl him over.

He was also very, very glad that the specs for Autobot City's new residential sector included soundproofing. Silverbolt was surprisingly loud in the middle of interface, and Skyfire found it incredibly erotic. The sound of his voice as he cried out in ecstasy was enough to bring Skyfire to the brink of overload.

"Skyfire..." Silverbolt was panting and shaking, clinging on with fingers that slipped on Skyfire's plating. "Will you... could you open your spark casing?"

A cold splash of dread went through him. "Silverbolt, I just, I can't--"

"No, I don't mean to spark share." Silverbolt's optics were close to his; he could read the warmth and desire - and honesty - in them as clearly as in Silverbolt's field. "I just want to see - and touch it, if you'll let me? I've heard... apparently it's quite sensitive... in a good way."

"I don't know. I've never..."

It was that never that made up his mind for him - the realisation that this was something he could share with Silverbolt that would be completely new for both of them. And he trusted Silverbolt... he knew he could trust him completely, that this wasn't some sort of trick to try and make him share sparks, that Silverbolt would never push or cajole or manipulate to get what he wanted...

He hadn't opened his spark casing for so long, it was stiff and uncomfortable to do so. The action made him feel spectacularly vulnerable. He realised he was shaking, but he could see the light of his own spark reflecting on Silverbolt's face, and the expression there was worth the fear. Silverbolt very gently brushed his fingertips over the crystal casing, and Skyfire's vision went white. It was his turn to cry out, overwhelmed not only by sensations but by a fierce rush of emotion that made him hold tightly to Silverbolt. Silverbolt's intakes caught and the almost greedy expression on his face made Skyfire shudder. He stroked Skyfire's spark casing again, and this time he didn't wait to repeat the touch, so that Skyfire spiralled helplessly into a cascade of ecstasy, overload rushing in on him faster and harder than he would have believed possible. He took Silverbolt with him, hand still cupped over Skyfire's spark, head thrown back in sheer abandon as he lost control of his systems.

"Was that... okay?" Silverbolt mumbled some time later, face pressed into Skyfire's shoulder and body draped languidly over his.

"Primus, yes," Skyfire blurted out. He was immediately abashed by his fervent honesty - but Silverbolt laughed, happy and smug, and Skyfire decided he didn't regret it. "Where exactly did you 'hear' about that?"

"Teletraan-2 really does have a lot more information than Teletraan-1."

Skyfire turned his head to try and stare incredulously at Silverbolt, but Silverbolt was still snickering into his plating, so the effect was rather lost.

"Have you been... do I even want to know?" He paused to consider further. "And is it Air Raid's fault?"

"No!" Silverbolt extracted himself to lean over Skyfire, face lit with amusement. "I have absolutely not had any conversations with Air Raid about the details of our relationship, even though he keeps trying to. I just did some research."

"Research. I see." Skyfire could think of nothing else to do but kiss him, feeling laughter against his lips. "I love you."

It slipped out, helpless in the face of Silverbolt's amusement and the aftershocks of overload. But Skyfire didn't even have time to second-guess himself, because Silverbolt kissed him, and murmured back, as if it were the most natural thing in the world and nothing to fuss over, "I love you too."

Maybe he was right, Skyfire thought, as they settled into each other's arms, recharge beckoning both of them. Maybe it could be that easy, after all.

Maybe. But in the depths of his spark, he knew he didn't really believe it.

Chapter Text

There was something very poignant about returning to Autobot City as the sun set. Maybe it reminded Silverbolt of the way he'd felt coming back from Cybertron all those months ago, or maybe it was just that the orange and red of the fading light caught the colours in the golden metal of the city so that it seemed to contain a reflection of the sunset in its gleaming walls. He was always glad when his return from a patrol or a mission coincided with the end of the Earth's day. Seeing the city come into view ahead of him, glowing golden and welcoming, filled his spark with joy.

He especially treasured the rare occasions when he was alone, as he was today. It gave him time to think.

He and his brothers were returning to Cybertron at the start of the next shift. Optimus had decided that it was time to approach Vector Sigma and request the spark that would dwell in Autobot City's central complex. The Aerialbots and the Protectobots were to accompany him. Optimus hoped that their own experience of retrieval from Vector Sigma's data banks would enable them to provide some comfort to a spark that would initially find itself confined to a travelling case, and might panic.

Omega Supreme would be flying them to Cybertron. There were too many of them for Skyfire to carry - and besides, Skyfire had his own mission to embark on.

Silverbolt's thoughts lingered on Skyfire. Mostly they were happy thoughts - memories of interfacing and of quiet moments of shared companionship, of Skyfire surrounded by Silverbolt's brothers and laughing - but beneath them he was conscious of a shadow of uneasiness. He knew that his brushes with Starscream had affected Skyfire deeply, and that Skyfire blamed himself for putting Silverbolt in danger - but Skyfire wouldn't talk about it. He wouldn't even let Silverbolt read it in his field and respond without words. There was a part of him that he held back completely from Silverbolt - from everyone - and Silverbolt wasn't sure if it had always been like that, or if he had only begun to lock himself away since they had become lovers. The idea hurt - that their relationship might be the very thing that was causing him to shut himself off. Silverbolt certainly didn't remember feeling that sinking sensation of shutters coming down back when their friendship had been just beginning. But maybe he simply hadn't been able to see as deeply into Skyfire's spark then.

He wished they could spark share. He wanted to understand what was making Skyfire withdraw even as they should be growing closer. But on that, Skyfire was adamant, and Silverbolt had never yet found the right moment to ask him why. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he had never yet found the courage.

As he moved into his approach vector - they had a real runway now, and it was a huge relief on his landing gear - Silverbolt knew that he had every reason to be happier than he had ever been. His brothers were happy - were respected and relied upon by the other Autobots - his friends were all around him - he spent every night in the arms of the person he loved. There should be no shadow on his joy.

And yet, somewhere deep in his spark, he was afraid.

*

As Earth fell away behind him, Skyfire could just detect Omega Supreme's signature heading in the other direction, powering towards the edge of the solar system and then onto Cybertron. He felt a yearning sense of loneliness, knowing that Silverbolt was aboard and would be far away for some time to come - but at the same time, there was an insidious relief at the silence and space around him. The void was very black, and the stars very bright. As he flew towards Mars, Skyfire tried to relax into the starlight and unfathomable cold. They were old friends, and he'd thought they would help soothe his troubled thoughts - but alone in the dark, his processor only seemed to dwell even more on his anxieties.

He concentrated on his mission parameters instead. He and Cosmos were to search the solar system for evidence of Decepticon activity. Prowl had come to the conclusion that the Decepticons' second space bridge must be off-planet. Skyfire would have preferred to fly out from Earth to explore the gas giants and their moons - partly out of scientific interest, and partly because it was a much longer mission - but Cosmos didn't have the shielding to enter Venus's atmosphere or spend much time as close into the sun as Mercury, so the inner planets had fallen to Skyfire.

He began with Mars. The dusty planet and its dwarf moons seemed as barren as ever. He orbited in shifting patterns for long enough to be sure there was no activity on the surface, and relatively sure that there was none below. Mars had been an unlikely prospect anyway. He, Cosmos and Omega Supreme had always monitored the solar system on their flights, and Skyfire was almost certain the Decepticons could not have activated a space bridge on Mars without alerting them. Ever since Silverbolt's capture, which had demonstrated so clearly that the Decepticons had another way on and off the planet, Skyfire had been working with Perceptor to scan the night sky for the tiniest telltale of energy. They had spotted nothing. If it was there, it was well hidden.

Skyfire thought that Saturn or Jupiter were likely candidates. They had moons which orbited close enough in for installations on their tidally-locked faces to be constantly shielded by their mother planet. Another reason he would have preferred to take the outer planets - he didn't expect to find anything closer to the sun, and it was disheartening to be flying a mission with no expectation of results. Venus's stormy atmosphere would provide a certain amount of cover, but the planet was too close to Earth for it to be feasible that the Decepticons could have escaped detection that long. Even the human astronomers would have noticed the change in spectrometry if there had been a space bridge operating beneath its eternal cloud cover. And Mercury was a poor prospect for the same reason that Cosmos was unable to survey it - the shielding required to survive its blistering heat was hardly standard issue.

Skyfire used Mars's gravity to give him a boost back in towards the sun. Even at his top speed, it would take hours to reach Venus, and almost a day to catch up with Mercury. He was used to such long stretches of solitude - or he had been, once. Now he found it hard to settle his thoughts. He wanted to sink into the theorising and data analysis he had always found so much more intuitive when he was alone in the black, but he couldn't seem to do it.

By the time he'd scanned Venus, established that it was empty of Decepticons, and begun heading for Mercury, Skyfire was in a thoroughly bad mood. He'd thought this voyage would be a chance to get away from the distractions of his busy life and a much-needed opportunity to reflect. Instead, he seemed to have brought the distractions along in his processor, and his reflections were fragmented as though disturbed by ripples from below the surface.

At least Mercury was interesting in its own right. The small, fast-moving planet had a dense core of iron and rotated so slowly that it barely completed three 'days' within two of its years. The temperature fluctuations between the dark and light sides were dramatic. Skyfire had hoped to study it one day, as its impact craters bore a certain similarity to those of Earth's moon, and might lead to some interesting conclusions about the formation of the solar system. He wondered if it would be inappropriate to linger once he'd checked the planet for Decepticon activity. It wasn't as though he was needed in Autobot City just now, except as another pair of hands - and Silverbolt wouldn't be back for a couple of days - and maybe if he could settle into a real investigation for a while, he might shake the sense of imbalance that was haunting him…

Skyfire came in on the night side of the planet, using it as a shield against the intense solar heat . He deployed his full range of sensors, but if he was honest, he paid more attention to the scientific readouts than to the indicators that would give away Decepticon activity. Was that water ice at the pole? Amazing - even on this hot little world, there were places that remained cool enough for the ice never to melt. He caught traces of atmosphere, but Mercury was too small to retain it for long. The solar wind was blowing the thin gas layer away even as it formed. It was utterly inhospitable to organic life, and nearly so for his own kind.

More on a whim than anything, Skyfire stayed low over the dark surface, heading for the terminator - the threshold between the light and dark sides of the planet - where a burning dawn was barely moving across the scarred landscape. The sun seemed to come up ahead of him as he raced against the rotation of the planet, springing away from the horizon to hang incredibly large and hot in the black, airless sky. He could feel the raw heat hitting his shields like a gale. It was glorious.

And all at once, his sensors were screaming alarms. The detectors he'd activated were reading Cybertronian technology and massive energy outputs from just over the horizon. They had been shielded both by the planet itself and by the sun's brilliance. Skyfire dropped even lower, skimming just above the tallest crater walls as he slowed down to take better stock of the situation. It was lucky he'd come in low - he would have been a sitting target if he'd been in a high orbit. As it was, he would be hard to spot against the radiant heat of Mercury's surface.

Lucky! He shouldn't have left it to luck. He'd been so sure there would be nothing on Mercury, he hadn't approached with due caution. He could have been shot down before he'd even known the Decepticons were there.

Well, he knew they were there now. He could turn and head back to the night side of the planet, hoping he could get away without being detected, but it would mean leaving without any more information. Prowl needed more than that if he was to make use of it in the Autobots' strategy. Skyfire triangulated the readings he was getting and estimated that the source was on the equator. He immediately calculated an escape vector; he would need to get in close to gather as much information as possible, and then he would need to get out of there fast. Satisfied that he could pull it off, he increased his speed again and watched the horizon.

The first sign he had was the glitter and flash of reflective surfaces spread out over Mercury's pitted terrain. At their centre was an installation the size of a small city, and over it sparkled a forcefield stronger than anything Skyfire had ever seen. It was operating on so many wavelengths he could barely count them, not only preventing physical access but filtering out the heat and radiation from the sun that would have made it impossible for anyone without Skyfire's shields to survive. At its heart was the distinctive energy signature of a space bridge - one that was open and, to all appearances, permanently so. The amount of energy required for the undertaking was staggering. But as he drew closer, Skyfire realised that energy was cheap, here. Someone on the Decepticons' side had reached the same conclusion about solar power as had been behind Skyfire's focusing crystals for Autobot City. They had even taken it in a similar direction, using faceted crystalline structures to focus and amplify the energy. Where Skyfire had aimed for the most compact design that would produce reasonable output, the Decepticons had created sprawling networks of crystal surfaces, spreading out from the central hub like the petals of a flower. Had it been Starscream? He and Skyfire had often come to the same answers via different questions - but Skyfire thought there was an efficiency to the design that was unlike Starscream's methods.

Speaking of answers, he had enough for Prowl now. This permanently open space bridge was the leak they had been unable to plug. Megatron could move his troops back and forth without the telltale bursts of radiation from the initial opening of the bridge, and then Astrotrain and the other space-capable flyers could transport them to Earth, slipping in from the direction of the sun, where the Autobots had never thought to look. And this huge power station, soaking up the sun for months of Earth time, explained how the Decepticons had made such inroads into re-energising Cybertron. There was no way the Autobots could compete with such a resource; Skyfire realised with a sinking feeling that if the Decepticons were permitted to continue, they would be able to revive enough of their troops to take the planet completely.

They would have to be stopped… yet he felt an unexpected ambivalence towards the idea of shutting down this magnificent creation. Unlike so many of the Decepticons' attempts to gather energy over the millennia, it was doing no harm - simply sucking up the sunlight that would otherwise have fallen wastefully on Mercury's surface. Such a source of power had been what they had been searching for before the war. Then, as now, Cybertron had been on a wandering path through the galaxy, far from any usable stars - and space bridge technology had been in its infancy. There had been no feasible way to set something like this up or to bring the power it generated to Cybertron. Now, a way had been found - and though it had been found by the Autobots' sworn enemies, could Skyfire in good conscience be part of destroying it?

The decision was not his to make, he realised, with a mixture of resentment and relief. That was what it meant to be a soldier in Optimus Prime's army - he had a duty to bring information back to the officers, and it would be upon them to choose their next course of action.

It was time to leave. He pulled up sharply, looping away from Mercury's low gravity and arrowing straight towards the sun. The same radiant output that had shielded this installation for so long would help hide his signature--

-- just as it had hidden the signatures of Astrotrain and Octane as they dived out of the sun. Skyfire rolled and fled back towards the surface of the planet, dodging their laser fire. He put on as much speed as he dared so close in, heading for the night side. If he could gain even a small lead on them, he would be able to gain some height and increase his chances of breaking away into open space.

Crossfire from his right almost brought him down. Blast Off had joined the fray, flying at Skyfire's level while the two Triplechangers kept him pinned down. But they were the only ones who could fly in this lack of atmosphere, the only ones whose shields could survive the sun's heat - if Skyfire could evade them, get out of their reach, no other Decepticons would be able to--

A crushing blow to his fuselage sent him spinning of control. That hadn't been laser fire! Desperately trying to right himself, he caught a glimpse of Menasor looming above him, and remembered too late that the Stunticons had individual forcefields that could, perhaps, with enough spare power, be reprogrammed to protect them from the solar radiation…

He had no hope of staying aloft - it was just a choice between crashing in alt-mode or transforming as he came down and hoping for a better landing. And then even that choice was taken from him as a barrage of laser fire clipped his wings, disabled his right thruster, and sent him spiralling into unconsciousness even as Mercury's boiling surface rose up to meet him.

*

"Okay, yeah, creepy doesn't even cover it." Hot Spot shot a nervous look behind them as if he expected the walls to be closing in. "How much further is it?"

"Not sure." Silverbolt was maintaining a calm exterior, but he was finding it incredibly difficult to follow Optimus Prime and Wheeljack into the depths of Cybertron. It was all too much like the nightmarish journey beneath Vos - especially given their destination. "I think we're going to a different control chamber from the one we were sparked in."

He checked behind them to make sure none of his team had wandered off or been left behind. They were huddled right on his heels and even Fireflight seemed disinclined to explore their surroundings. Hot Spot's team were up ahead, just behind Wheeljack. They were similarly silent and kept casting uneasy glances at the walls and ceiling. This was almost their first visit to Cybertron since their creation, and Silverbolt guessed that the contrast with Earth was jarring them even more than it had the Aerialbots.

"Someone really oughta clean the place up." Hot Spot's way of reassuring his team was to keep up a stream of light-hearted comments. It was working on Silverbolt to a certain extent, although he was walking close enough to pick up the stress in his friend's field. "Put in some better lights, maybe a poster or two, y'know, safety in the workplace type stuff, in the event of a fire run screaming in the opposite direction--"

"Man, we'd be screwed if there was a fire in here," Streetwise muttered. "There're no side passages, we'd be cut off--"

"Whoa, leave the imaginary firefighting to me, okay?" Hot Spot cut easily through the hint of panic in his gestalt brother's voice. "There's nothing to burn, anyway."

"At least we can't get lost if there are no turnings," Silverbolt added. He glanced over his shoulder again, managing a smile for his brothers. "That is not a challenge, Fireflight."

He won an indignant noise from Fireflight and muted laughter from the others, but they quickly subsided back into uneasy silence. Silverbolt almost wished Slingshot or Blades would start something just to give them all something else to think about.

"Is it all like this?" asked First Aid.

"Yeah, mostly," replied Air Raid before Silverbolt could speak. "Iacon's better, you didn't see much of it but it's all lit up properly and it's much more lived in."

Though it was becoming less so. The Decepticon force on Cybertron was growing by the month and Silverbolt knew that total evacuation of Iacon to Autobot City was no longer a contingency plan, but a strong probability for the future.

"There's tunnels under Iacon too," Fireflight piped up. "They're easy to get lost in."

"Jeez, why don't we just let the Decepticons have the place?" Blades had clearly meant the comment to go unheard, but the echoes in the corridor carried it further than he might have liked.

There was a pause before Hot Spot jumped in to scold him - a pause in which Silverbolt thought they were all, secretly, thinking that he had a point.

Up ahead, Optimus Prime came to a halt, conferred briefly with Wheeljack, and then turned back to wait for them.

"The chamber is through this door," he said. His optics travelled over the ten younger Autobots thronging the corridor. Silverbolt didn't think he'd heard what Blades said, but he could read their discomfort clearly enough. "We shall be as quick as possible, and return to Earth as soon as we can."

"We're ready," said Silverbolt.

Beyond the door lay a larger space than he had expected. The ceiling was high enough to disappear into darkness, while the walls curved around in a wide circular sweep. The room was lit by a familiar golden glow. Silverbolt shivered, reminded not only of his reawakening, but of what they had found below Vos. He forced himself to follow Optimus over to the central pedestal without hesitating. His brothers trailed after him, murmuring to each other as they took in enormous, glowing golden globe that was one of Vector Sigma's terminals.

Wheeljack had begun tapping out commands on the console embedded in the pedestal, but Optimus Prime stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Can you hear me, old friend?" he asked of the air.

There came a musical whispering from the globe. It didn't sound like speech to Silverbolt, but Optimus nodded as though he understood.

"I don't suppose you remember Alpha Trion," he said to the Aerialbots. "He was instrumental in your creation, but by the time you awakened, he had merged with Vector Sigma. It was the only way to regain control after Megatron took the key. His consciousness still dwells within the computer, but he is much altered. Still, he will help us."

"We need an old spark," Optimus went on, now speaking to the golden sphere. "One with much experience and wisdom, patience and subtlety. He will be much as the old city wardens who merged with the control systems of their territory, except that his body will form part of the very city he will watch over. It will be a long time yet before we can construct a body shell capable of independent movement, so he must be one who will not find it confining to remain anchored to Autobot City for years to come. I know it is hard to make such specific choices regarding a spark, but I trust in your wisdom."

Vector Sigma flared bright and began to emit a low, throbbing hum. It was soothing and exhilarating at the same time. Wheeljack set the shell that would house the new spark down on the pedestal and quickly connected it to a slim conduit that Silverbolt recognised as a smaller version of the ones he had seen below Vos. The shell was little more than a box, studded with diagnostic readouts and power ports, basic optical and audio sensors, and a vocaliser. The new spark would be able to see, hear, and speak, but could not move or transform. Usually a spark from Vector Sigma would be transferred straight into a fully functional body, where it would quickly learn how to move and act. Finding itself so contained might cause it to panic.

With a final, brilliant pulse of light, Vector Sigma fell silent. Wheeljack checked the diagnostics and his head fins flashed cheerfully.

"He's in there! Can you hear me, little guy?"

"He's not going to be little for long," Hot Spot muttered.

"I hear you." The voice was startlingly deep. "I… have limited functionality."

"That's temporary. We'll get you down to Earth and settled before you know it."

"Earth? I cannot… where are my peripherals?"

Lights began to flash on the shell in Wheeljack's hands. The new spark must be reaching out, trying to find the systems it knew it should have under its control. The deep voice had sounded implacable, but the rapidity of the flashing lights spoke of desperation. Silverbolt had been prepared to comfort a new, young spark, but this one had sounded so much older than him - he wasn't sure if it would even listen if he tried to reassure it.

Something in the back of his processor - no, someone - nudged him gently but insistently, and Silverbolt realised suddenly that it hadn't been him and his team - or Hot Spot's - that Optimus had really wanted here. He quickly assessed the size of the room - it would just be high enough, if they were careful - then turned to his brothers.

"Transform and combine, guys."

It was always strange when they joined. The five of them could feel each other, closer than they could ever be in separate forms, but their individuality blurred as their gestalt gave rise to a new personality. Superion was always in the back of their minds, quiescent and patient, but when they joined, he came into focus and they hovered in almost-awareness behind him.

Superion knew why he had been summoned. He noted Defensor's components coming together as their leader followed Silverbolt's example. He knelt carefully by the small figure of the scientist, and plucked the tiny carrying case from his hands. He could feel the alarm, confusion, and fear in the field of the spark within. There was also the faintest sense of recognition. Superion nodded thoughtfully. It was as he'd guessed; this spark was kin to himself and Defensor. They were the slow, thoughtful minds that had held command of cities and factories, seldom moving, always patient. He and Defensor had taken on new roles in this life, slumbering until needed by the young sparks who formed their bodies, but this one would fulfil a function very similar to that of his past.

There was much they needed to talk about.

*

"Ah, good, you're awake."

Skyfire wasn't sure he was awake. His optics were giving him blurry feedback and his processor was moving in long, slow loops reminiscent of dreaming. He recognised the voice, but couldn't immediately place it - it wasn't Starscream, at least.

Why had he thought it might be? Skyfire struggled to orient himself, searching for memory. Slowly, the pieces came together - Mercury, the Decepticon base, the attack… He rebooted his optics and while he waited for them to come online, paid attention to his other sensors. He tried his comms, but they were dead.

The person who had spoken was nearby, working on a console from the sound of it. Skyfire was lying on a sloping surface of some kind. He tried to move his arm, but it didn't respond. He got the same results with the other three limbs. His diagnostics told him that the primary optic fibres had been neatly cut. That meant someone who was familiar with his systems - which again, pointed to Starscream. Skyfire's optical systems had finished their recalibration. He carefully brought his vision back online.

The room he was in was large and clearly served as a lab of some sort, though one with specialisations outside Skyfire's area. He could see banks of machinery and a number of high energy catalysts, along with the door and part of a dome ceiling. He tried to turn his head, but couldn't move. For a horrible moment he thought the fibres had been cut there too, but he quickly realised that it had simply been secured in place by a number of clamps. He had been thoroughly immobilised.

"I say 'good'," the speaker went on, and now Skyfire could place the voice - the dispassionate intonation could only be Shockwave, "though from your perspective I suppose it is less so. But it will make things easier for me."

"How so?" Skyfire was surprised that his vocaliser had not also been disabled - but then, Shockwave liked to talk almost as much as Starscream. The difference was that Shockwave was almost impossible to goad. "I would have thought you would prefer me unconscious."

Even as he spoke, he was trying out combinations of parameters that might permit him to bypass the cut fibres in at least one arm. If he could get his weapon out of subspace, he might be able to disable Shockwave and perform some emergency repairs to the rest of his systems. He knew Shockwave was aware of his skills in that area; he was genuinely wondering why he had been permitted to come out of stasis.

"It will make the transfer cleaner and prevent excessive data loss. You won't maintain consciousness for long enough to present me with any problems."

Shockwave appeared from Skyfire's right and moved in uncomfortably close to examine his head. He reached up and pulled something loose with a snap, letting it hang down discarded. Skyfire recognised it as a direct neural probe. A bolt of queasiness shot through him. How many more of those were in his processor right now? He couldn't tell. His sensor network was reporting nothing, and he couldn't access their data shunts through software intervention.

"Transfer?"

"Of your memory banks. I have no doubt that you know enough of your leaders' plans to supply me with intelligence that Megatron will very much appreciate."

"You can't… that's impossible!" Skyfire shifted his attention from trying to reactivate his arm to desperately seeking out the access points of the neural probes. If he could identify and isolate them… but they must have been wired into his processor seamlessly. His systems were unable to see them. "All you'll do if you try is wipe my processor--"

He stopped because finishing the sentence was too horrible. Memory dumps as a form of interrogation had been investigated throughout the war by both sides, though the Autobots had tried it only once, in desperate circumstances, and never again after the results… which were devastating. A Cybertronian processor was intentionally designed to be impossible to hack into. There were firewalls hard-coded into the components and fail-safes within fail-safes. It was not possible to take possession of another's memories through brute force. No matter how sophisticated the attack, the only result would be the utter annihilation of the personality of the victim, leaving their spark as unanchored in self as if it had been returned to Vector Sigma. If Shockwave was serious, Skyfire was about to die - even if his spark was retrieved later by the Autobots, there would be nothing of him left.

How much time did he have? His chronometer told him he'd been here hours - no, a full Earth day and night! - before he'd come back to consciousness. Shockwave had had ample time to set this up. He could throw the switch at any second. But he had to know it was fruitless - that he would gain nothing from it. Was it a bluff? Did he hope to use the threat for more traditional interrogation?

"You'll wipe my processor," Skyfire said. He didn't try to sound calm. If Shockwave wanted to frighten him, he'd succeeded, and Skyfire knew his only chance lay in letting him know it. "What do you want to know? I'll… I'll tell you."

There were some pieces of information he could safely give that would be immediately verifiable and make it seem as though he was co-operating. They would cause minor inconvenience to the Autobots, but would not be disastrous. If he could just buy time - just find a way to get some control of his own body back…

"That won't be necessary." Shockwave seemed to be satisfied with the positioning of the probes. He moved over to another console, this time within Skyfire's field of vision. "It will be far quicker and easier to download everything and sift through it at my leisure."

"You can't. Brute force attacks on a central processing unit have never been successful."

"Who said anything about brute force?" Shockwave sounded smug now. Sure of himself. Skyfire began to panic. He could see enough of the screen to recognise the final sequence of a verification algorithm. "You're right, of course, that we've never cracked an Autobot processor in the course of the war. But you are something of a special case. I don't believe you've upgraded your control chips since you left Cybertron on that ill-fated voyage of yours, hmm?"

No. No, no… Skyfire started slamming up every firewall he could think of, knowing it was useless. The probes were already within his outer defences, and the control chips - he couldn't isolate them with software, he'd need to get at them physically - as Shockwave already had…

"As it happens, some of the older chip configurations contain what one might term a back door… it's a flaw that has long been eliminated from most of your fellows, and even where it may still exist, the records of who, exactly, is susceptible have long been lost. Except that a colleague of mine seems to have a fascinatingly detailed knowledge of your systems, and considerably less ability to encrypt his files than I have to penetrate them…"

So it had, in a way, been Starscream who had been responsible for the deadly accuracy of Shockwave's work on his systems. It gave Skyfire an obscure, painful comfort to know that the knowledge had not been given willingly.

But comfort wasn't enough to save him. Shockwave was studying his console intently and Skyfire could see the diagnostics giving their final summary. It was going to happen, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He needed more time - he needed just one working arm, or one way into the data shunts in his processor - Shockwave was seconds away from entering the command that would activate the transfer - Primus, would he feel it? Or would he just - shut off?

In the midst of terror like he had never known, he thought of Silverbolt. Imagined how he would react when he was told-- and that was almost worse than the horror of his own impending death--

"There," said Shockwave, beginning to tap out a sequence of symbols. "This will only take a klik--"

The next few seconds happened so fast that Skyfire was barely able to untangle the sequence of events through his panic. Shockwave was in the middle of typing the command that would activate the shunts, but at the same time, the far door shot open. Starscream stormed through, seething with a mix of fury and spite, already speaking as the door opened - "So I hear you have a guest, Shockwave, and one who I specifically ordered to be handed over to me immediately if captured--"

He skidded to a halt as he took in the lab. Skyfire saw his optics go to the neural probes, the apparatus around him, and to Shockwave's console, understanding everything in a split second. Skyfire had no time even to open his mouth and call out - beg, he wasn't above begging now - as Shockwave reached for the activation key.

Starscream's first shot took Shockwave in the centre of his back. He staggered forward, hand still dangerously close to the console. Two more shots sent him tumbling to the ground, a garbled protest coming from a vocaliser numbed by the null rays. He must have hit something on the way down, because the console was reeling off code that tumbled down the screen, and the banks of machinery around Skyfire were lighting up one after another. Starscream whirled, scanning the room with the pinpoint precision of a hawk. He found what he was looking for and fired both null rays continuously for three seconds. Suddenly the lab was full of the whine of overloading machinery. The console screen was flashing errors. Skyfire had barely a nanoklik to realise that the overload would dump into him via the neural probes - a nanoklik to see Starscream make the same connection - a nanoklik to register Starscream lunging for the probe connections, seizing them two-handed and pulling - before the power surge hit and he was shoved unceremoniously into blackness.

*

It wasn't until they were well on their way back to Earth that Silverbolt got up the nerve to ask the question that had been in his processor since Optimus had requested the new spark from Vector Sigma.

His memory of what Superion had done was hazy - he was aware that much of it had been field-sharing, not speech - but by the time they had separated into their component selves again, the new spark had been calm and communicative, albeit somewhat terse. His name was Metroplex, he told them, and he was ready to return with them to Earth now.

All the way back through Cybertron's passages, through the brief stop in Iacon so Optimus could update Ultra Magnus, and even as they embarked into Omega Supreme's cargo hold, Silverbolt was thinking about what Optimus had said earlier. An old spark, one with much experience and wisdom… I know it is hard to make such specific choices…

His brothers were in the middle of an argument with Streetwise and Groove about some incomprehensible aspect of human pop culture. Hot Spot started to come over to talk to him, but Silverbolt waved him off. He approached Optimus hesitantly; their leader was staring out of one of Omega Supreme's viewports and Silverbolt wasn't sure if he would welcome interruption. But Optimus turned to him enquiringly, warmth in his optics. Silverbolt came to stand beside him, keeping his voice low.

"May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What did… what did you ask Vector Sigma for - when you created us?"

He had been wondering, ever since that moment when Metroplex had been sparked. Had Optimus asked for the best aerial fighters? The best team? For loyalty to the Autobot cause and a unwavering determination to defeat the Decepticons? Had Silverbolt and his brothers been even remotely what he was expecting?

Optimus seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. He put out a hand to rest on Silverbolt's shoulder, his characteristic gesture of reassurance, and Silverbolt felt the strong, deep pulse of his field as he spoke.

"I asked that you should think for yourselves," he said, "and that you should grow in knowledge and wisdom, valuing life and freedom wherever you should find it. And above all, that you should be worthy of Alpha Trion, who sacrificed himself that the Autobots might have access to Vector Sigma and the ability to call forth the sparks that slumber within its memory banks. I have had the greatest faith in the choices of Vector Sigma since then - since it gave me exactly what I was looking for."

Silverbolt couldn't speak. They stood in silence, looking out of the viewport, as chaotic emotions shook his spark to the core, Optimus's hand on his shoulder transmitting the pride, trust, and - there was no hiding it - love he felt for the Aerialbots. Silverbolt understood all at once that no matter what he'd thought in the beginning, no matter how frustrated he'd been with his brothers or how he'd despaired of his own leadership abilities, there had never been a moment when Optimus had doubted them.

He wanted to say something, but his vocaliser wouldn't obey him. Optimus didn't seem to take it amiss. No doubt he could read enough of Silverbolt's field to know what he would have said, anyway.

Silverbolt's comm blipped, a long-range channel with a familiar code. Why was Skyfire contacting him? Silverbolt opened the channel at once, but instead of Skyfire's voice, he was assaulted by a crackling squawk as if Skyfire had tried to transmit a databurst via audio by mistake. Wincing, he made to cut the contact - but the noise was gone almost as soon as it had started, and the channel closed of its own accord.

Frowning, Silverbolt tried to re-establish the link, calling Skyfire's code. There was no response.

"What is it?" Optimus had felt his sudden shift in mood.

"I'm not sure… I think--"

Omega Supreme's booming voice filled the cabin, drowning him out.

"Distress signal: detected." The sound of the rocket's engines changed, putting on speed. "Source: Skyfire."

"Where is he?" Silverbolt broke away from Optimus, hurrying to the control panels at the front of the cabin. Omega Supreme had already called up a map of Earth's solar system. Silverbolt bit his lip worriedly as he saw how far out they still were. "What's happened?"

"Unknown. Signal is automatic, no verbal contact. Approximate location: 60 million kilometers from Earth."

"In which direction?"

"Between the Sun and Earth."

"An automatic signal?" Wheeljack had appeared at Silverbolt's side. He was still carrying Metroplex's travelling case; occasionally he gave it an absent-minded pat. "That's not good. That's his last resort if he ever ends up drifting without power. It's not shielded at all - the Decepticons can pick it up too."

Silverbolt went cold. "How fast can you--"

"Omega, put me through to Cosmos." Optimus gently pushed Silverbolt aside and seated himself at the control panel. A few brisk movements of his hands brought up 3D tactical displays and opened a comm channel to Autobot City. "Prowl? Have Blaster activate the long range scanners in the comm tower."

Cosmos's accented voice came through the speakers before Prowl could reply.

"Optimus, I'm picking up a distress signal from Skyfire--"

"I know. How fast can you reach him?"

"I'm way out past Jupiter and on the wrong side of the solar system. Hours, maybe closer to a day."

"We'll get there first, then. Hold your position and scan for any sign of Decepticons responding to the signal."

"Yes, sir!"

"Blaster is on his way to the tower," Prowl said from the screen. He had obviously heard Cosmos's report. "We're looking for Skyfire?"

"And for anyone else who may be looking for him." Optimus tapped his fingers on the console thoughtfully. "If he has run into trouble in the inner solar system…"

"… then we have almost certainly answered the question as to the location of the Decepticons' base," Prowl finished, completing Optimus's thought in the slightly unsettling way the two of them had. "I will let Red Alert know to expect retaliation from that direction. We will attempt to narrow down the source of the signal and transmit it to you as soon as we can."

"Good. Omega, can you attempt to make contact with Skyfire?"

"Already attempted. No response."

Silverbolt had been trying his own comms over and over again. He'd hoped it was only their limited range that was preventing him making a connection, but if Omega Supreme couldn't reach Skyfire either… Fireflight and Skydive had come up behind him. Their fields overlapped with his in shared worry.

"Then take us in at full power." Optimus glanced over his shoulder - all the 'bots on board had clustered around them by now. "Everybody find somewhere to strap yourselves down. This is likely to be a rough ride."

*

The blackness that greeted him when he regained consciousness was at least familiar. Skyfire slowly took in the whirling stars and the cold of space pressing against his shields. Then he snapped to full alertness as memory swept back in. He was in his alt-mode, but his engines weren't firing. He was drifting. His scanners told him he was a long way from Mercury - well past Venus, in fact - and that his trajectory would take him to Earth - eventually. There was no sign of Starscream. His emergency beacon had been activated. And his comms were pinging with urgent regularity from several codes he recognised: Omega Supreme, Autobot City, Cosmos, Silverbolt…

He opened Silverbolt's channel.

:Skyfire?: Silverbolt sounded faint with distance; his comms weren't designed to work across space. Skyfire thought his signal was being boosted by Omega Supreme, which meant that the Aerialbots were still aboard. :Can you hear me? Are you okay?:

:I… I think so.: Skyfire tried to start his engines. He found his systems sluggish. The power surge had done enough damage to make him wince at his diagnostics. The cut fibre optics had been reconnected but it felt like a hasty patch job. At least he could control his thrusters; he powered up and began to move at a more reasonable rate through the vacuum. :I'm damaged - I found the Decepticons on Mercury--:

:We guessed. Can you give us your position? Omega has been homing in on your beacon - we're just passing Mars - we can pick you up as soon as--:

:No! Don't come near me!:

:What? Skyfire--:

Skyfire was scanning his data logs even as he gingerly fired his thrusters up higher. As he'd feared, he had no record of what had occurred after the power surge from Shockwave's machine had knocked him out. There weren't even any system logs of his transformation or the activation of his beacon. Which meant that not only had Starscream achieved both manually, but that he'd wiped the logs afterwards.

And that meant Skyfire had no idea what else Starscream might have done while he was unconscious.

:I'm heading for the moon,: he told Silverbolt, adjusting his course as he spoke. His processor ached terribly. He didn't know if it was from the power surge, from Shockwave's abominable neural probes, or from sheer worry. :I may have been compromised. My systems have been tampered with. I'm proceeding under full quarantine procedures until I'm sure I don't pose any threat to you.:

By you he'd thought he'd meant the Autobots, but as the word came out he knew in his spark he meant Silverbolt alone. Why had Starscream let him go? Not just let him go, but actively helped him escape? Some last vestige of their friendship, shocked into action by his realisation of what Shockwave meant to do? Perhaps. He thought Starscream was still just about capable of such sentiment. But would it have been enough to stop him taking advantage of Skyfire's powerlessness to sabotage the Autobots, or to lay yet another trap for Silverbolt? Skyfire couldn't take the chance.

There was a pause. When Silverbolt spoke again, Skyfire could hear the cold fury in his voice.

:What did they do to you?:

:Shockwave tried to extract my memory banks.: Saying it aloud brought a wave of remembered terror and helplessness. :Starscream stopped him.:

:Starscream?: Silverbolt's confusion was an echo of Skyfire's own. :How did you escape?:

:I didn't. That's the problem. Please, change course and head for Earth. Once I've done preliminary scans, I'll need Ratchet's help…:

:I've already told Optimus.: Silverbolt was in professional mode now, cool and efficient. He understood the danger, and if he was upset or worried by Skyfire's decision, he wasn't showing it. Skyfire loved him more than he could put words around just at that moment. :We'll land at Autobot City within two hours and Omega Supreme will pick up Ratchet. What's your ETA?:

:Six hours. Maybe seven. I'm not sure I dare go above half power.:

:Omega will wait at the lunar pole for your signal. Optimus says that Ratchet has acknowledged the quarantine and will proceed accordingly. He's going to signal you as soon as he's on board Omega.: A pause, and then emotion slipped back into Silverbolt's voice. :I'll be waiting when you get back to Autobot City.:

:I know.:

Skyfire tried to let himself take reassurance from the thought - tried to ease his fear and worry with the memory of Silverbolt in his arms - but all he could think of was that blank space in his processor. And of Shockwave waiting by that console, about to throw the switch - if Starscream hadn't come in, hadn't reacted for once as if he possessed a conscience…

:Stay on the line?: he said. :I don't want to be alone right now.:

:I'm here.: Silverbolt couldn't reach out to him, but Skyfire almost felt the ghostly touch of his field anyway, conveyed by the depth of feeling in his voice. :I'm not going anywhere.:

Chapter Text

"How is he?"

It was Fireflight who asked, but Silverbolt could tell they were all waiting for the answer - even Slingshot, apparently absorbed in his shooting game - as the door of the Aerialbots' new common room slid shut behind him.

"A little better, I think." Silverbolt crossed the room to the couch where Fireflight and Skydive were sitting, and dropped down tiredly into the space they created for him. "He let me sit in the lab for a while, at least. But he wouldn't let me touch him."

Fireflight leaned in wordlessly, field flowing easily and comfortingly into his. Silverbolt offlined his optics and let it wash over him. He tried to relax his own field, drawn in tightly in an effort to respect Skyfire's wishes.

It wasn't that Skyfire was hurt - at least, not physically. Ratchet had run a full decontamination procedure before Skyfire left the Moon, making sure there were no Decepticon programs or hardware in his systems. As soon as he'd returned to Autobot City, Skyfire had shut himself up in the medbay with Perceptor and run his own scans while Ratchet repaired the damage Shockwave had done to immobilise him. Technically he now had a clean bill of health - as far as anyone could determine, neither Shockwave nor Starscream had tried to sabotage his systems.

But Skyfire had withdrawn in a way Silverbolt had never seen before. He had moved from the medbay to the lab as soon as Ratchet allowed it, where he continued to run tests and procedures on his own systems, and he had asked - politely, but very firmly - that Silverbolt and his brothers stay away. He was reticent when Silverbolt talked to him on the comms and reluctant to leave the lab even to refuel. He wouldn't let any of them into field contact with him.

"Could Starscream really do something to his systems that Ratchet couldn't find?" Fireflight asked in a small voice.

"I don't know. Skyfire thinks so." Silverbolt brought his optics back online and watched Slingshot gunning down tiny green aliens on the vidscreen. "He's… really shaken up by what Shockwave tried to do. He's afraid that his systems might have other vulnerabilities he doesn't know about."

And Skyfire was blaming himself for having older systems, for presenting a liability to the Autobots. It was ridiculous, of course - Optimus's first concern had been for Skyfire's safety, and he would never have blamed Skyfire if Shockwave had succeeded. Skyfire had done his best with their limited technology. No-one would dream of accusing him of putting the Autobots at risk by letting his hardware get out of date - but that was how he saw it, despite Silverbolt's best efforts to change his mind. Add into that his conviction that Starscream had laid some sort of trap for him, and the result was a mass of guilt, self-recrimination, and fear, which Silverbolt could do nothing to soothe because Skyfire was keeping him at arm's length.

"Shockwave had better think twice about showing his face from now on," Air Raid growled. "If I see him out there I'm not gonna stop until I slag him."

"You'll do nothing of the sort," Silverbolt said sharply, all too easily imagining his brother peeling off in the middle of battle. Then he sighed, because in his spark, he'd been thinking the exact same thing. "Besides, he doesn't fight on the front lines. We'll never get the chance."

"If Prowl orders a raid on the Mercury base…" Skydive suggested.

"I don't think he will. It's too dangerous. Not enough of us have the shielding, and the Decepticons can pour out reinforcements from the space bridge."

"So, what, we're just gonna let them carry on out there?" Air Raid had been lounging sideways in one of the chairs; now he swung himself out of it and paced angrily over to the window. "They're swimming in energon! We're never gonna keep up, they'll take over Cybertron--"

"Yes." Silverbolt wasn't really supposed to talk about this with his brothers yet, but he was so worn and sore of spirit right now, he needed them to know. "We know. Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus talked for hours last shift. They've decided to evacuate Iacon."

There was a stunned silence. Slingshot's game made a smug, discordant noise and flashed 'GAME OVER' at him, but he didn't seem to care.

"We're giving up?"

"No, of course not." Silverbolt found that now he'd told them, it was easier to put aside his own dismay. "We're just choosing our battles. We're going to concentrate on holding Earth. Our next goal will be to destroy the space bridge here - we want to make it harder for Megatron to reach us. We know where they're coming from within the solar system now, so we'll be able to watch out for attacks. Then we wait. Optimus has plans for keeping a foothold on Cybertron - Red Alert and Grapple have already drawn up blueprints for bases on the moons. We wait, and we build up our strength here - and we let them get on with re-energising Cybertron."

"But they'll just keep bringing more Decepticons out of stasis," Air Raid protested. "There'll be thousands of them while we're still just a few!"

"There aren't thousands of Decepticons in stasis," Silverbolt said. "Not hardened, dedicated soldiers, at least. The more Megatron brings Cybertron back online, the more he's going to need the normal, everyday people - the engineers and the factory masters and the scientists. He'll have no choice but to start reviving them even if they aren't dedicated to the Decepticon cause. If we bide our time until Cybertron starts to wake up properly again, we'll have allies - not just other Autobots, but hundreds of ordinary citizens who just want the planet to come back to life. They won't think much of Megatron's warmongering. We'll have a real chance, then - we can organise ourselves and push him off Cybertron for good."

"So we're letting them do all the hard work, then taking over when they've tired themselves out?" Skydive had begun to smile. "I like that idea."

"It still feels wrong," said Slingshot. "Letting them take Cybertron after all this…"

"I know." Silverbolt held his optics for a moment, sharing the sense of bitterness. "But it's the only way we stand a chance. Unless we give up. I'm not ready to give up, are you?"

The chorus of vehement denials brought a smile to his face for the first time in, oh, hours. Maybe days.

"It will be okay," he said, with more certainty than he would have thought he could feel. "We just have to be patient. We just have to wait."

And maybe that was true of Skyfire, as well, Silverbolt thought. He would reach out when he was ready. The more time passed without any evidence that Starscream had tampered with his systems, the more he would be able to relax. Silverbolt missed him terribly - particularly when he was trying to recharge, he hadn't realised how accustomed he'd become to hearing the soft interplay of Skyfire's systems with his own - but he would be patient. However frustrating it was to be shut out, he knew that Skyfire was worrying about him as much as he was about the Autobots or his own safety. Silverbolt would respect that, and when Skyfire was ready to let him back in, he'd be there.

He was almost reassured by the train of thought - almost, but not quite. Somewhere in his spark there was a seed of panic that begged him to try and break down those walls, that demanded he go back to Skyfire right now and refuse to leave until he knew what was going on in Skyfire's processor. The thread of fear was stronger now, much stronger, and it was all Silverbolt could do to keep it from strangling him. There was something else going on, something more than just Skyfire's worries about Silverbolt's safety and Starscream's vendetta. Something dark and painful he'd glimpsed deep in Skyfire's field, some danger he didn't understand…

His comm beeped and for a second Silverbolt hoped it would be Skyfire - that the waiting was already at an end - but he realised it was an official code and quickly composed his thoughts before opening the channel.

:Silverbolt, you'll need to prep for a long-distance flight as soon as your downtime is over,: Prowl said without preamble. :Blaster's picking up an unusual signal from the south pole. We're not sure if it's new or if we just weren't receiving it before the upgrades to the comm tower. There's a possibility… that it may be the sighting beacon for a new space bridge.:

Silverbolt bit off a curse that would have shocked his brothers with its vulgarity. Everything he'd just said to them about defeating the Decepticons in the long term hinged on cutting off easy access to Earth. Another space bridge would make that task a thousand times harder.

:We'll be ready,: he told Prowl. :Do we have any reports from orbit?:

:No. Cosmos is still in the outer solar system and Omega Supreme has returned to Cybertron. None of the human satellites are able to pick anything up. We need you to perform the initial reconnaissance and report back. I'll brief you fully at the start of your shift.:

:Understood.: He'd been thinking, automatically, that Skyfire would be with them - but Ratchet had taken Skyfire's concerns seriously enough to hold off on clearing him to leave the base. Silverbolt shook off the prickle of doubt that assaulted him. Skyfire's expertise on the space bridge and his more complex sensors would have been useful, but they were not essential. It was just a reconnaissance mission. The five of them could handle it. :We'll be in the hangar in two hours.:

*

The wind was terrible as they approached the emptiest continent on Earth. The constant storm that encircled the southern polar ocean - the infamous 'roaring forties' and 'furious fifties' - buffeted them from the west, trying to push them off-course as they flew due south. By the time they sighted land, Silverbolt was starting to feel an ache in his rudder and right wing from constantly compensating for the drift.

Summer was almost over in the southern hemisphere, but Antarctica was still enjoying endless days where the sun never set. The snow that never melted even now was sparkling and pure, a clean white blanket over gently rolling hills. Silverbolt remembered Skyfire telling him once that there were mountains and valleys deep below the ice, a whole landscape smothered and smoothed by millions of years of snow. It reminded him with a shudder of the time Skyfire had spent frozen at the other pole of this planet, locked in ice and helpless as the snow hid him from sight.

But Antarctica seemed quiet, its snowy mantle undisturbed by signs of Decepticon activity. Fireflight was exclaiming delightedly over the penguins that massed and wandered on the plains below. Silverbolt checked with Prowl again, but was reassured that there were still no indications of an ambush like the one they had encountered in Europe. His own sensors were picking up nothing. The beacon itself was still out of their range; they were navigating to co-ordinates Blaster had pinned down with the more powerful equipment in Autobot City.

:Should one of us go up high?: Air Raid asked, and Silverbolt knew he was thinking of Astrotrain and the others dropping out of the stratosphere.

:Blaster's hooked into the human satellite network. He'll know if anyone breaks atmosphere.: Silverbolt checked the horizon again, and ran a quick infra-red scan of the surface below. It would be hard for any Decepticons to hide on the ground. But it was better to be safe than sorry, after all. :Go on, though, if you like. Just pay attention to your de-icers and don't try to go as high as Skyfire can. This is not a good place to get into trouble.:

:I will,: promised Air Raid, curving away from them and spiralling upwards like an enormous bird of prey.

:Skydive,: Silverbolt went on, :can you mirror him below us? I want you running scans in case there's some sort of trap on the ground.:

:Yes, of course.: Skydive dropped away and echoed Air Raid's spiral in the opposite direction.

Slingshot and Fireflight spread out to either side of Silverbolt without being told. The four smaller Aerialbots now formed a vertical diamond shape, with Silverbolt at the centre. It was an unusual formation, one of several Skydive had come up with for specific purposes such as reconnaissance. They hadn't used it for a while, though, because these days Skyfire would almost always be with them, staying high to watch their backs, his more powerful sensors alert for danger. Silverbolt was very aware of his absence.

:Is it me,: Slingshot said after a few minutes of silent flight, :or has the air gone all, I dunno…:

:Sparkly!: Fireflight finished for him.

Silverbolt could see what he meant. There was a faint glitter in the sky around them.

:Ice crystals,: Skydive said. :It's much more noticeable down here. The humans call it diamond dust.:

:Where did you learn that?: Silverbolt asked.

:From Skyfire.:

:It's pretty,: said Fireflight.

Silverbolt's navcom told him they were closing in on the beacon. In another minute or so they would be within range of its broadcast, which would enable them to home in on its position.

:Okay guys,: he said, still checking the horizon for signs of other aircraft. :Remember we're just here to look unless Prowl tells us--:

At that moment, he picked up the beacon's signal for the first time. Or rather, it crashed in on him; the Aerialbots' comm channel was drowned out in a sudden storm of screaming static and Silverbolt was deafened and stunned. He tried to shut down his comms, but he couldn't shut off the signal. Not only that but his other sensors were starting to waver; his vision was suddenly torn apart with lines of jumping grey and the static wasn't just coming from the comms, but from the air around him, battering on his audio receptors. Despite the cold polar air they were flying through, he was suddenly hot all over, not just on his plating but deep in his systems. Something's wrong, something's very wrong. Suddenly his controls weren't obeying him; his elevons wouldn't extend and his rudder was limp. Silverbolt felt himself tilting forward, losing his grip on the wind, and then desperately, helplessly, falling--

He tried to call out to the others but his comms were full of the terrible static and his vocaliser wouldn't work. He thought he caught glimpses of them flitting around him, but what could they do? They were all smaller than he was, they couldn't slow his fall.

Skyfire will catch me, Skyfire will catch me-- He was burning up even as he fell towards icy oblivion, his thoughts fragmenting. All at once he remembered that Skyfire wasn't there, was half a world away.

The awful heat expanded like a fireball and claimed his consciousness as the white world below rushed up to meet him.

*

As far as Slingshot could tell, Silverbolt just fell out of the sky.

His comms cut out halfway through a sentence. After a moment he tilted into a nosedive that he showed no sign of controlling.

:Silverbolt? Silverbolt!: They were all calling him, diving after him, trying to make sense of what was happening. :Pull up! Silverbolt! What's wrong?:

:He's not gonna pull up!: Slingshot shouted, seeing all too clearly the lack of movement in Silverbolt's control surfaces. :He's out cold or something!:

:I'm under him,: Skydive said. Slingshot could just make him out, a dark shape so low he looked like he was skimming the snowy crests. :But if he crashes into me we'll both go down hard, I can't keep him in the air in alt-mode.:

:Silverbolt, can you transform?: Air Raid was trying to catch up, but he'd been so much higher that he couldn't get down to their level quick enough. :We could catch him the way we caught Fireflight that time--:

:He can't hear us,: Slingshot said with certainty. He was flying in tight, crazy spirals, coming close to falling himself as he tried to match Silverbolt's uncontrolled descent. :Fireflight, come on, we've gotta slow him down before Skydive catches him.:

:How?!:

Desperately, Slingshot dug into his memory for any situation like this. They'd all fallen before - they'd been shot down, they'd had accidents in the air, they'd stalled or dived too steeply or banked too hard - but usually they'd be able to transform so they could grab onto their brothers. And usually they fell from lower down, in the middle of manoeuvres - Slingshot couldn't remember any of them falling from cruising altitude. Even with his Cybertronian frame and reinforced plating, Silverbolt was moving so fast he might well break up when he hit the ground. Slingshot didn't know if he could survive that. If he could only transform…

Two memories collided - Silverbolt telling them how he'd triggered Skyfire's transformation under Vos, and Starscream transforming mid-air and landing on Silverbolt's back. Slingshot didn't stop to try and work out the details of his half-formed plan - that wasn't his style. He twisted in the air, angling down almost vertically to catch up with Silverbolt. Just when his nosecone would have speared Silverbolt's fuselage, he transformed and flung his arms and legs around his brother as they collided.

:What the frag are you doing?!: screeched Air Raid.

Slingshot didn't answer, too busy clinging on for dear life. This wasn't like riding on Silverbolt's back when he was flying level - the extra weight had sent him into a spin, and Slingshot was in danger of being thrown off. He grabbed frantically at Silverbolt's wings, using them as handholds as he tried to find that one panel that always came open when they combined into Superion.

:Slingshot, you're gonna crash!: cried Fireflight.

Slingshot tore the panel open and plunged his hand inside. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he recognised it when he found it, the whisper of gestalt-memory left over from the times they had merged into one mech. It was that same instinct that made him seize hold of the transformation cog and twist it so hard he was afraid, for a split second, he would break it.

Then, with a whirr of machinery, Silverbolt's alt mode broke up and flipped him into his root form. They were still falling, but now Silverbolt's mass was greatly reduced and his body more easily grappled. Skydive and Fireflight understood at the same moment, one swooping in from the right, the other coming up from the left and below. They had no time to match speeds properly, but they did their best. Slingshot threw one arm over Skydive, clutched Silverbolt with the other, and swung his legs over Fireflight's wing, feeling them both try to pull up and slow them down, but the ground was too close…

They crashed in a huge explosion of snow. Slingshot managed to hang onto Silverbolt as they were thrown clear of the other two. It was painful, but it was easily one of the better crashes he'd experienced. They'd done it. They'd brought Silverbolt down safely.

Except that crashing might be the least of his problems. Slingshot turned him over and found his optics blank and his limbs shaking. He kept twitching and grabbing at the air, and his plating was so hot the snow was steaming off it.

:Get over here--: Slingshot started, but the comm was suddenly cut off by a harsh, staticky transmission from Silverbolt. And then the signal cut out completely. Slingshot tried to reach his brothers again and came up against the familiar, muffling sensation of a jamming field.

"Get over here!" he shouted instead.

Fireflight and Skydive staggered to his side. Air Raid screeched overhead and came down fast and hard in the snow some distance away. Seconds later he was running towards them.

"I can't get through to Autobot City!" he was yelling. "I can't get through to anyone!"

"He's jamming us," Slingshot said. "How can he be jamming us when he's unconscious?"

"He isn't." Skydive had the handheld scanner out and was running it over Silverbolt, brow furrowed with worry. "It's coming from the beacon we were heading for. That transmission just now was some sort of activation signal."

"But why would Silverbolt activate--" began Fireflight.

"He wouldn't! Obviously! Something's wrong--" Skydive touched Silverbolt's plating and winced away. "Primus, he's burning up! His circuits are red-lining all over!"

Silverbolt suddenly cried out wordlessly and arched up from the ground. Slingshot had seen that sort of stiff, jerky movement before - in humans suffering what First Aid called seizures. He'd never seen it happen to a Cybertronian. He didn't know what to do. Skydive didn't know what was wrong, and Skydive was the only one who had a chance of figuring this out. They couldn't get through to Autobot City. They couldn't call for help, they couldn't carry Silverbolt back while he was thrashing like this, they couldn't do anything except watch helplessly because Silverbolt was the one who always knew what to do…

"Air Raid, go." It wasn't a plan, exactly, because that would have required Slingshot to have thought about it for more than the nanoklik before he spoke. "Get in the air and fly due north, who cares where you end up, just get out of range of the jamming field and get help." Air Raid stared at him, too panicked to comprehend, and Slingshot reached out and shoved him backwards. "Go on!"

As Air Raid stumbled into his transformation and took off, Slingshot started grabbing handfuls of snow. "Get as much of this on him as you can," he snapped at Fireflight. "We've gotta keep his circuits cool."

He'd made fun of First Aid plenty, used him as an easy way to get at Blades, but the Protectobot often talked to him when he was stuck in the medbay, kept him company, and one of the things he'd talked about recently was the outbreak of disease in Uganda that he and his brothers had tried to help mitigate. Slingshot hadn't really cared or wanted to listen, but he'd been so bored he hadn't been able to help himself. And even though that had been a human sickness, he saw the parallels in Silverbolt and he remembered what First Aid had said about fever - you had to keep them cool or they burned themselves up before any medications could help. Silverbolt's systems could stand much higher temperatures than frail human flesh, but the heat coming off him now was already dangerously close to his limit. The snow was melting as fast as they could shovel it over his plating.

Cybertronians didn't get sick - at least, not the way humans did - but there was something Jazz had warned them about before they'd gone to Cybertron, something Slingshot had barely paid attention to because it sounded like geek stuff, something about firewalls and unverified code and being careful about downloading anything from the long-dormant computers that might have been trapped by the Decepticons…

"Check his processor!" Slingshot tried to remember what Jazz had said. "See if he's running something - a program - slag it, one of those things, humans use the word for something different but it's kinda like this--"

"A virus?" Skydive jabbed at the controls of his scanner and prised open a panel on one end to reveal a coiled up fibreoptic cable. He yanked it free and jammed the end into a port on Silverbolt's neck. Silverbolt screamed and jerked away, dislodging the cable. "Hold him down!"

Slingshot grabbed Silverbolt's shoulders and helm and pressed him into the snow as Skydive reconnected the scanner. Its display immediately started flashing red warnings as a stream of code flew across the screen.

"Slag," Skydive muttered, pulling up more diagnostics with deft swipes of his fingertips. "You're right, it's a computer virus - but it's everywhere, and I don't see how -- oh, Primus, all his firewalls are down. All of them! His antivirus, his core permissions, everything's been disabled. The only reason he's not offline is the built-in failsafes in the hardware, but they're going down too."

"Can you stop it?"

"I don't know how! It's happening so fast, I don't know how to get his antivirus back up without rebooting his processor and I can't do that, that's high level medical intervention, we need Ratchet or First Aid…"

"We haven't got Ratchet or First Aid." Slingshot braced himself as Silverbolt shuddered and tried to twist away from his grip. "What about stasis?"

"No, the virus is already in his static processing blocks. Even if we shut him right down to bare minimum it'll keep going." Skydive was still working on the scanner, but Slingshot had the sense that it was more out of a need to be doing something at this point. "We need a self-loading antivirus chip or a remote firewall connection…"

"What about us?" Fireflight had been preoccupied with shovelling snow onto Silverbolt's overheating body even though it was obviously doing very little to help, but he must have been thinking hard the whole time, listening to what they were saying and searching his vast store of answered questions for something they could use. "If we plug into him as if we were combining…"

"We'll get it as well," snapped Skydive. "It'll infect all of us as soon as we connect to Silverbolt's systems…"

"But we've all got our antivirus still!" Fireflight was talking fast but with certainty. "The virus can't have taken Silverbolt's down, because it would have to get inside first to deactivate all the firewalls, so it must be something else that's done it and now the virus can do what it likes but if we plug in we might be able to fight it off--"

"You can't use someone else's antivirus, it doesn't work like that--"

"Maybe not for normal mechs but we're gestalt, we must be using the same programs when we're Superion, Silverbolt's systems will recognise us--"

"We've gotta try it," Slingshot said. The thought of letting that malevolent code anywhere near his systems made his plating crawl, but he reached down to his side and clicked open the covers on the primary connectors he used when combining with his brothers. "Me and you, 'Flight, so Skydive can keep scanning and see what's happening."

Fireflight nodded, already opening his own covers, the mirror image of Slingshot's. They couldn't link up with Silverbolt fully the way they would as Superion - Silverbolt would need to transform for that, and Slingshot didn't think he could force the secondary transformation the way he'd put Silverbolt back into root form - but there were cables and wires that could be pulled out and jury-rigged to connect to Silverbolt's ports. Skydive told them which ones to use, optics briefly leaving his scanner only to return as soon as he was sure they had it.

"Hurry up," he said. "His servo controls just went down."

Silverbolt had indeed gone very still. That was worse than the thrashing had been. Slingshot fumbled for the last connector and jammed it into place. He felt an immediate surge of data from Silverbolt, the familiar blend of their systems mixed with a prickling, invasive rush of code that battered his firewalls like a storm.

"Urgh," said Fireflight eloquently.

"Get your diagnostics going and make sure all your firewalls are on full strength," Skydive instructed. "Tell me what you're reading."

"It's not getting in," said Slingshot after a moment. He tweaked his antivirus even higher, and felt the sickening pulse of the virus ease. "Fireflight was right, something else must have taken Silverbolt's down. It can't get through to us."

"Okay. Good. Now you need to…" Skydive paused, struggling for words. "You know when we combine and it feels like sort of opening up and sliding past each other? You need to do that without transforming."

"How are we supposed to…" But even as he protested, Slingshot found the trick of it. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and he felt like he was trying to think in two directions at once, and the urge to transform was almost irresistible, but he could feel the gestalt connection and he clung onto it with steely determination.

"It's working." Skydive's voice shook with relief. "It's working! I'm reading your antivirus in his diagnostics, and it's cutting off the virus processes. I don't think it can cure him, but it's keeping him stable."

"So we need to keep doing this until help comes?" Fireflight sounded dazed from the same effort that Slingshot was exerting to keep himself in the state between individuality and gestalt. "I don't know if I can."

"We'll take it in turns if we need to," Skydive said. Silverbolt twitched and raised a hand; Skydive caught it and held it tightly. "His servos are back up. His primary systems are stabilising and some of the heat is dissipating."

"Silverbolt?" said Fireflight. "Can you hear me?"

"He can't," Skydive replied. "But I think he knows we're here."

That was enough to keep Slingshot going for the next two hours, even though he started to go numb from exhaustion and feel his processor wandering as they waited. Fireflight swapped out with Skydive, but Slingshot told himself he could hang on. And he did, until Skyfire came roaring in from high atmosphere, burning from re-entry like a falling star, and Slingshot knew that Silverbolt would be okay.

*

After days of isolation, the chaotic field contact from the Aerialbots clustered around Skyfire was overwhelming. Their raw emotions and worry made it hard for him to think, or deal with his own feelings - but in a way, he was glad of that. The inside of his processor was not a good place to be right now. He turned his attention outwards and did everything he could to comfort the others. Their fields overlapped with each other and his. There was no point now in keeping them away from him.

Ratchet had made no effort to remove them from medbay. Silverbolt was hooked up to more machinery than Skyfire had known the Autobots possessed, all of it working steadily to clean out his codebase and repair the damage to his memory blocks. He was in deep stasis, so deep that he would never come out if it weren't for the secondary processor wired directly into his neural network, keeping his consciousness at a safe level. Physically, his injuries from the fall and the damage of overheating circuitry were easily repaired - but Ratchet didn't dare work on them until he was absolutely sure that all Silverbolt's processes were running correctly. So he lay there, battered and frail, and terribly, terrifyingly still.

Skyfire was trying not to look at him. He concentrated instead on the terminal Ratchet had told him to use, and on talking to the Aerialbots clustered around him. He would be working faster if he weren't explaining everything he was doing, but he would gladly sacrifice efficiency for the distraction it was providing all of them. It wasn't as though this work would do anything to help Silverbolt - it just might give them some answers.

"It was definitely the signal," Skyfire said, studying readouts of the beacon that had now been thoroughly destroyed, its parts brought back for Perceptor to pore over. "See, here's the virus, encoded into the upper wavelengths."

Skydive and Slingshot were watching intently, and nodded when he indicated the thread of bright purple on the screen. Air Raid and Fireflight were paying less attention, keeping their optics on Silverbolt, but they were also the ones pressed closest to Skyfire, and he knew that just the sound of his voice was helping them stay calm.

"Why didn't the rest of us get it?" asked Skydive.

"Fireflight was right," Skyfire replied - and oh, Primus, for a moment he wavered, all too aware that if the pooled knowledge of the four of them hadn't prompted them to do exactly the right thing, Silverbolt would have… he forced himself back on track. "Your antivirus was more than enough to protect you. But there's something else in the signal - a trigger. It… must have been set to activate another piece of programming, already in Silverbolt's processor. Something that would take down his antivirus and leave him open to the attack."

"How did it get there?" demanded Slingshot.

"Starscream must have done it when he had Silverbolt prisoner--" Air Raid started.

"No." Skyfire shook his head. "I'm absolutely sure it wasn't there when we got Silverbolt back. Somehow it got to him afterwards." A horrible thought struck him; he had to suppress a shudder. "When was the last time you combined into Superion?"

"Wasn't it that battle with--"

"No, it was on Cybertron," said Skydive. "We combined to talk to Metroplex. We haven't done it since."

"Then Silverbolt must have picked it up after that," said Skyfire. "Otherwise all of you…"

He couldn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. They understood. Just as Silverbolt's systems had recognised and accepted their antivirus through the gestalt link, so the insidious program would have passed to them without challenge if they had joined before it was activated. And if that virus burst had taken them all down…

There was no way around the stark truth: they all would have died. Prowl had ordered an emergency response as soon as he lost contact with the team, but Skyfire would never have reached them in time. He had barely reached Silverbolt in time, and only then because Slingshot's quick thinking in sending Air Raid for help had meant he could guide them in. And because Slingshot, Fireflight, and Skydive had kept Silverbolt hanging on just long enough.

Just for a moment, Skyfire couldn't do it anymore - couldn't keep up the facade of calm, couldn't control the howling chaos of his emotions. Without speaking, each of the other four enclosed him more firmly in their overlapping fields, taking their turn at comfort. Skyfire offlined his optics and clung gratefully to their support.

It must have happened after Cybertron - and Mercury. Skyfire had been so afraid that Starscream had found a way to hurt Silverbolt through him - but he hadn't even touched Silverbolt since his return. He'd kept himself so isolated - double and triple checked everything - and there was nothing in Skyfire's systems that would have given Starscream access to Silverbolt's, not at that distance. So how? Had he downloaded something in the last few days? Had access to some sort of datachip that could have slipped the sabotage program into his code? Skyfire realised that he had no idea. He'd been so frantic to keep Silverbolt away from him, he didn't know what he'd done or where he'd been since his return from Cybertron. Guilt threatened to swallow him whole. He should have been on the mission with them. If he hadn't been so paranoid - but no, it wasn't paranoia, Silverbolt's still and silent form on the berth proved that - but if he hadn't guessed wrong, had stuck by Silverbolt as he should have - as he'd promised he would…

"It's not your fault," said Fireflight very quietly.

They were reading too much in him. He wasn't shielding as well as he should. Skyfire forced his optics back online and focused on the screen, pulling himself together with difficulty.

"Was there anything he did since Cybertron - anything unusual or different that might have left him open to the first half of the virus?"

It was enough to distract the Aerialbots as they started messily reconstructing Silverbolt's movements for the last few days. Skyfire winced every time one of them began a sentence along the lines of "And then he tried to comm you, but you weren't answering, so…" He'd been so stupid. What good had shutting Silverbolt out done? None, and it had almost got him killed. If he'd been there with him…

Comms. The second half of the virus had come through the comms. The first half… that was one way to get past someone's firewalls, but it would have to be on a completely trusted channel, one that they wouldn't even think of checking…

Skyfire went cold. His logs had been blank for the time between Starscream disabling Shockwave's machines and when he'd awakened in space. All his logs - comms included. He hadn't thought anything of that at the time, accepting it as part of the general blankness, but why would Starscream have bothered to wipe his comm logs for that period, when he could neither send nor receive?

"On your way back from Cybertron," Skyfire said, cutting through the Aerialbots' discussion, "before you picked up my distress signal… did Silverbolt receive any comms?"

"I don't think so," said Skydive after a moment. "He didn't mention…"

"But he knew something was wrong with Skyfire before the distress signal," Fireflight put in. "Remember? He was talking to Prime and then he suddenly stopped and Prime was asking him what was wrong and then the next thing…"

"Yeah, that was when Omega told us you were in trouble."

The coldness expanded to fill Skyfire's whole body. It would have been a short contact, he thought distantly. Half a second, probably. It wouldn't have occurred to Silverbolt to question it. He would have thought it was Skyfire trying to reach him. And even if he'd wondered later about that, knowing that Skyfire had been unconscious at the time, would he have thought it was important enough to mention? He might not even have wondered - he might have forgotten completely. Or he might have been planning to mention it to Skyfire, except Skyfire had made it almost impossible for him to bring it up…

The rhythmic beeping of the monitoring machines was suddenly intolerable and Skyfire felt as though he were pinned to the ground. He managed to keep his voice, and his hands, gentle as he extricated himself from the Aerialbots.

"I need to… I'm going to go outside for a while," he said. "I just need… you'll comm me if anything changes, won't you?"

"Of course." Skydive was looking at him with something far too close to comprehension. "Do you want us to come with you?"

"No." That was too harsh. He didn't want to hurt them - Primus, more than anything he didn't want to hurt any of them. "I need to be alone for a while."

They let him go. He thought, as he forced himself to walk rather than run from the medbay, that if they had done nothing else to earn his love, that would have been enough.

*

Optimus Prime looked up as Skyfire entered, and waved him to a seat. Skyfire was glad that the briefing room was empty except for the two of them. He hadn't told Optimus why he had requested this meeting, but maybe the Prime had guessed.

"How is he?" Optimus asked. There was no need to clarify.

"Better. He was awake for a couple of hours earlier. He's groggy, but he's himself. Ratchet's been able to repair the damage he took in the fall."

"And the others?"

"Still in the medbay. I don't think Ratchet has the heart to kick them out, even after a week."

"And were you able--"

"Yes." Skyfire took out his datapad and passed it over without looking at it. "We were able to confirm my hypothesis once Silverbolt was coherent enough to answer questions and give us a download of his comm logs. The first half of the virus was sent using my comm system while I was unconscious. It was a databurst that immediately replicated itself in the back of his processor and waited for the trigger from the second half, which was carried in the beacon signal."

Optimus was silent for a moment. When he spoke, the anger in his voice sent a shiver through Skyfire.

"This was despicable. Cowardly, cruel, and of no real purpose to the Decepticon cause. Petty revenge using the basest treachery to exploit the bonds of trust."

"If the Aerialbots had combined into Superion, it could have taken them all out," Skyfire said. "In that sense, I suppose it could be argued that it served some… purpose to the Decepticon cause."

"But you and I both know that was not its intent." Optimus sighed and turned the datapad over in his hands. "I've seen the rest of your report, Skyfire. Go on."

"You're launching the moonbase initiative within the next month, correct?" Skyfire kept his voice level. "I should be a part of that. They'll need space transport and I can pull double duty on construction and engineering."

"That's true." Optimus was studying him now with a sadness in his optics that made Skyfire more uncomfortable than he would admit. "But I had planned to send Omega Supreme. The 'bots who go to the moons will have to remain there without a chance to return for some time - at least a year, on Earth. I am planning to select those who will not find it too burdensome."

"I'm used to long expeditions," Skyfire said. "I'm a better choice than Omega - I can do more for the base construction, and if I cover the science section you won't have to decide whether to separate Perceptor from Chip or Wheeljack from Carly. The humans will feel that length of time more acutely than we will. It wouldn't be fair."

"The younger 'bots also feel the passage of time more acutely." Optimus regarded him steadily. "Is it any fairer to Silverbolt?"

"You're sending Prowl," Skyfire countered, knowing it was a low blow. "Some sacrifices have to be made. I'm the best choice. And it might… maybe it will keep him safer."

"It had to be Prowl," Optimus said quietly. "There was no room for negotiation. That is not the case here. I cannot assign the Aerialbots to the moonbase mission, but there are other options than sending you. Have you spoken to Silverbolt about this?"

"No."

Skyfire stared down the Autobot leader, daring him to comment further. But Optimus was adept at knowing when his advice - or comfort - would not be welcomed.

"The roster is not due to be finalised for another week," he said. "If you change your mind…"

"I won't," said Skyfire.

Chapter Text

-- initiate countdown

"I don't… understand."

It was an understatement. Silverbolt felt like he'd just tripped and fallen into cold water. The medbay was too quiet, his brothers elsewhere and Ratchet absent. Skyfire wouldn't look at him.

"It will only be for as long as it takes to establish the moonbases," Skyfire said, still in the neutral tone so at odds with his words. He stole a glance at Silverbolt. "But they really need my expertise on the scientific side of things, and it makes sense to combine that with my capability for transport--"

"But-- when--" Silverbolt shook his head as if he could clear his processor by sheer strength of will. "Where did this come from? All of a sudden you're talking about - leaving? For a whole year?"

"I've been considering it for a while," Skyfire said quietly. "I thought it might be necessary. So when it came up with Optimus…"

"Optimus approached you?"

Skyfire hesitated. "No… I spoke to him."

Silverbolt stared at him until he looked away.

"You volunteered? Why would--" Silverbolt stopped and tried to pull himself together. "What's going on, Skyfire?"

"What do you mean? I… know it's not ideal, but this is--"

Not good enough. He knew Skyfire too well now to accept the deflection.

"I mean," he said, overriding Skyfire's reply without remorse, "why are you doing this? What's wrong? What's happened?"

The look on Skyfire's face, for just a second before he could hide it, cut Silverbolt to the spark.

"What's happened?" Skyfire repeated quietly. "This."

He gestured to the monitoring equipment still plugged into Silverbolt's systems. Most of it had been giving nothing but positive readings for days now, but Ratchet was insistent that he wasn't going to unhook Silverbolt until all his processes were fully online. Silverbolt felt a lot better than he had - but he was still shaken from the horrible experience.

They all were. His brothers had barely left his side, rotating in shifts when Ratchet finally decided they didn't all need to be there. Skyfire had come and gone with clockwork regularity, holding his hand while he recharged or reading to him when he was awake, giving no sign that anything was wrong…

… no, that wasn't quite true. He'd been too withdrawn. His field had been both too calm, and hinted at immense tides of emotion underneath. Silverbolt had been increasingly restless, the last few days. He'd told himself it was because he wanted to get out of the medbay. He'd been a little more unhappy every time Skyfire had said goodbye. Now he knew why.

"I don't see the connection." Silverbolt tried to keep the sharpness out of his voice, but shock was turning to anger and he wasn't sure he was hiding it. "Leaving won't change anything that's happened."

"It might change what will happen."

"Meaning what?" Then he understood, all in a rush of exasperation and anger and sadness. "You think Starscream will leave me alone if you leave me? Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm not leaving you, I didn't mean--" Skyfire rested his head in one hand, offlining his optics. "I just think… it might take the heat off if we're in different places for a while."

"I disagree." Silverbolt had the shape of it now. He was almost relieved; Skyfire was being an idiot, and it hurt, but he could put a stop to this. "He'll either keep on coming after me or he'll move on to something else, and neither outcome will change if you're not here. It's not like he's got any sense of accountability or fairness."

"You don't… know him as well as I do. If I go to Cybertron…"

"… you'll be gone for at least a year, you'll be within convenient potshot range, and he'll have won." Silverbolt kept his voice gentle as he reached for Skyfire's hand. "This is ridiculous. The last thing you should do is leave behind everyone who cares about you and exile yourself for Starscream's sake."

"For Starscream's sake?" Skyfire pulled his hand away. "This has nothing to do with-- I will not put you in any more danger!"

"I'm always in danger! It's an occupational hazard!" Anger flared bright again. "And I think it does have plenty to do with Starscream--"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that you're almost as obsessed with him as he is with you!"

"That's not true." Skyfire's voice was barely more than a whisper. "You can't think that."

"Can't I?" Silverbolt couldn't stop the words tumbling from his vocaliser no matter how much he wanted to. "You never stop thinking about him - you're convinced he's some-- some force of nature you can't escape! You're letting him control you when he's millions of miles away and on the other side of the war. You have to let go of this, Skyfire - just let go completely, stop trying to second-guess him and yourself--"

"I have a duty to the Autobots to use what knowledge I have in their defence," snapped Skyfire. "And yours. Starscream is dangerous - you're too quick to dismiss him--"

"And you're too quick to defend him! Or haven't you noticed?" retorted Silverbolt. "Here is what I know of Starscream: he's cruel, he's vain, he's arrogant, he's stupid no matter how cunning he manages to be - he makes the same mistakes over and over, he brags that he'll lead the Decepticons but Megatron can put him down with one finger - he's petty and spiteful and the only threat he poses is to people who are stupid enough to trust him--"

Silverbolt realised his mistake the second the words were out of his vocaliser; Skyfire had trusted Starscream once, long ago and far away as it might be. Silverbolt hadn't meant to imply… he knew it had been different then. He could even, dimly, conceive of a Starscream more worthy of friendship than the mech he had become. And he would never taunt Skyfire for misplacing his trust - that hadn't been what he meant at all…

Skyfire surged to his feet and turned towards the door. If Silverbolt hadn't been so attuned to him, he would have missed the shudder that went through his whole frame. Silverbolt was suddenly less angry than he was scared.

"I'm sorry," he said as Skyfire began to walk away. "That wasn't… I shouldn't have said that." Skyfire kept walking. Silverbolt automatically moved to follow him, and was brought up short by the connectors still wired into his systems. "Don't go. Please."

Skyfire stopped by the medbay doors.

"I… need some time," he said without looking round. "I'll see you later."

"Wait-- Skyfire--"

The doors closed behind him and Silverbolt was left staring at the empty space where he had been. He found he was shaking as he eased himself back onto the berth. He wanted his brothers. He wanted Skyfire. He wanted to take back everything he'd just said, and start the whole conversation over, steer Skyfire away from this crazy idea of leaving them all behind without straying into the dangerous, treacherous waters of his past with Starscream…

I need some time. There had been an undertone - a warning: Maybe a lot of time.

Silverbolt lay back on the berth and offined his opics, pressing a hand over his face. Skyfire wouldn't go through with it… would he? It was just a reaction to everything that had happened - to Silverbolt coming so close to death. He'd get over it - he'd change his mind.

Wouldn't he?

Except there was that darkness, that thread of fear, that little nagging voice in the back of Silverbolt's processor, the one that had felt Skyfire drawing back even as they grew closer. And that voice told Silverbolt that this went far deeper than he'd guessed.

*

-- five

Slingshot fired rapidly, keeping time in his head. Just as he reached the end of the clip, he turned and let loose the last shot right into the bullseye on the target three rows down. The range monitor beeped approvingly where he'd dropped it carelessly at his feet. Slingshot scowled, grabbed another clip, and reloaded his rifle impatiently. He started shooting again, this time alternating between three targets in order. When he'd finished, he kicked the monitor over so he could see the readout. It was a good score. He kicked the monitor hard enough to send it bouncing down the range, swore, and reloaded again.

This time he didn't bother with finesse. He just set his neutron rifle to rapid fire and hammered the target until it started to smoke. It didn't help.

He strode down the range, grabbed the monitor, and dumped it by his starting point. He'd been ranked third in the Ark scoreboards. Since they'd moved to Autobot City he'd moved up to second. He'd finally beaten Perceptor. The only 'bot higher on the boards than him was Bluestreak. Everyone said he was a natural marksman. Slingshot would beat him eventually.

He reloaded. His comms beeped. He ignored the summons, returning to his alternating firing pattern.

His comms went again, accompanied by a faint twinge through the gestalt bond. Slingshot wanted to keep on ignoring it. Instead, he opened the channel.

:It's time to go,: said Silverbolt. He sounded tired. He'd often sounded tired since he'd come out of the medbay, even though he was supposed to be fully recovered. :Meet us on the runway, we need to set out.:

:I'm not gonna fly with him.:

:That's an order,: Silverbolt replied quietly. He cut the connection before Slingshot could argue.

Slingshot kicked the target monitor again, watching with savage satisfaction as it crashed into the far wall. He reloaded his rifle and fired at the unfortunate monitor until it was nothing but a heap of slag, then turned and left the shooting range with furious strides. He didn't bother to subspace his gun.

They were waiting for him on the runway. Slingshot took a moment of savage satisfaction in the wary look Skyfire gave his rifle, and from Silverbolt's sharp glare as he approached.

"In your own time," Skydive said sarcastically. He and Air Raid were scowling at Slingshot like this whole fragging thing was his fault. Fireflight just looked unhappy, as usual. He'd edged up to Skyfire in that slightly annoying way of his, as if he thought just standing there long enough would fix everything. "Not like any of us have places to be."

"You coulda gone without me," snapped Slingshot, pointedly refusing to look at Skyfire as he spoke. "Woulda suited me."

"Oh sure, you just hang out while we--"

"That's enough." Silverbolt at least didn't sound tired when he was telling them off. Slingshot preferred the sharp note of irritation to that spark-deep weariness. "Everybody transform and move out in formation epsilon. We're flying the full North American circuit and we need to be back before dusk."

He transformed before anyone could speak or argue. Skyfire followed suit. Slingshot shoved his rifle into subspace and slid into his alt-mode with one last glower in Skydive's direction.

It was a long flight. Normally they'd be chatting over the shared channel, but Slingshot made a point of tearing strips out of anyone who tried, until they fell into uneasy silence.

Air Raid commed him on a private channel. Slingshot refused to acknowledge, until his brother swung right over and seemed about to crash into him, gestalt bond or no gestalt bond.

:Hey! Watch where you're--:

:Oh good, you're listening.: Slingshot wasn't used to hearing that tone from Air Raid. He couldn't decipher whether it was sarcasm or anger that had put the bite behind the words. :You need to cut it out already.:

:You're the one fouling my airspace--:

:That's not what I mean and you know it.:

:I don't know nothin'.:

:Cut the slag, Slingshot! Are you trying to make things worse?:

:Maybe I am. Maybe he should just frag off already if he's going.:

:Or maybe he'll change his mind if you stop giving him such hard time! Primus, can't you see how much it's hurting Silverbolt?:

:Yeah,: said Slingshot quietly. :I can see how much it's hurting Silverbolt.:

Air Raid was silent for a few moments.

:I do get it,: he said at last. :You know I do. Every time he walks off somewhere and Silverbolt watches him go - yeah, okay, so I kind of want to throw something at his head. Or Silverbolt's head. Anything to get this sorted out. But it's complicated. You can't just make everyone else's lives miserable because you're upset.:

:I'm not 'upset',: spat Slingshot. :I'm fragged off. I'm gonna make him wish he'd never--:

:Never what? Never hung out with us? Never made Silverbolt happy? Never been a good guy and saved our afts and saved Silverbolt's life and helped us with that stupid prank and--:

Air Raid's voice crackled in a way that had nothing to do with static, although he cut out as abruptly as if it had been. Slingshot flew in silence, waiting to see if his brother would re-establish contact - but Air Raid seemed to have had enough of the argument.

Slingshot wished he'd call back.

Yeah, it would have been better if Skyfire had never had anything to do with them, he thought savagely. At least that way it wouldn't hurt so much that he was leaving…

He thrust that thought down deep and squashed it. But the next time Fireflight asked a question on the open channel, he kept quiet and let the conversation happen.

*

-- four

Skydive paused outside the lab, wondering if he should knock. He shook off the momentary uncertainty and opened the door.

Skyfire and Perceptor were working in silence at opposite ends of the room. With anyone else, Skydive would have thought they'd argued, but he'd been in here enough times to know that they were quite happy sharing the space without talking. He walked past Perceptor, who was too absorbed in some circuitry to look up, and made his way to Skyfire's half of the room.

Skyfire glanced up when he approached. He seemed to relax fractionally when he recognised Skydive. Skydive would have found that flattering if he hadn't had the sinking feeling that Skyfire had been bracing himself to encounter Silverbolt.

"I wondered if you could help me with something?"

"Yes, of course." Skyfire seemed to speak more softly recently, as if he were trying to leave as little impression on the world - on them - as possible. "What is it?"

"I've been looking through Teletraan-2's archives," Skydive said. In fact, he'd spent all of the last shift poring over the data in utter fascination. "There are a lot of old aerial battle plans and flight simulations I've never seen before. But… it's so hard to sort out which ones come from which era - and which body types were in use then. It will say 'should not be attempted by X736F32 vertiforms', and I look that up and it tells me an X736F32 vertiform is a variation on the PT387G superstructure with influence from the first wave of T277s and… I just don't know where to start."

"I can't say I'm an expert on the specific designations, but I can probably give you some general guidelines." Skyfire moved over to a terminal and activated with a couple of taps. "Which ones are you particularly interested in?"

Skydive found the sets he'd spent the most time on, and sure enough Skyfire immediately started telling him the things he needed to know - the difference between space-faring and atmospheric craft, the general subdivisions of both, and the slow shift of design over the centuries. Skydive didn't need expertise on the specific designations - he needed someone to paint the bigger picture for him so he could start to grasp the context of these ancient documents. He'd known Skyfire would be able to help.

Skyfire was… so very good at that sort of thing. Even when Skydive had started to enjoy his company for its own sake, instead of tolerating it for Silverbolt's, he hadn't really realised just how much Skyfire could tell him about a world that he had to admit fascinated him. The Cybertron they had visited in that one hectic glimpse of the past called to him, even as he was spooked by the current reality of the planet. He wanted to know more - not about the war, or even about the culture and everyday life that interested the others - but about how things had worked. The logistics of running the entire planet - the co-ordination of airspace over the various cities - the navigation of Cybertron itself through space - the imbalance of energy that had eventually led to the war - the change in mindset from looking outwards to focusing ever inwards…

There was so much Skydive wanted to know, and he had only just begun to realise that Skyfire could answer his questions as thoroughly as Fireflight's.

And… now Skyfire was leaving.

He forced his attention back to what Skyfire was saying about the high-altitude patrol wings. He should be making the most of Skyfire's knowledge while he had time, after all.

*

-- three

Air Raid wasn't usually the one who had to fix things, but he thought he'd been getting good at it recently. The problem was, sometimes, you had to properly understand what things were before you could fix them.

And sometimes things eluded definition.

"Do you need any help with that?" he asked, watching Skyfire carefully manoeuvring a bulky piece of equipment into a shipping crate.

"No, it's fine." Skyfire shifted his grip, then seemed to change his mind. "Actually - could you hold the crate steady?"

The crate looked perfectly steady to Air Raid, but if Skyfire was going to give him something to do just for the sake of doing it, well, he wasn't going to argue. He obligingly took hold of the rock-solid crate as Skyfire lowered the apparatus into its depths.

"It seems like a shame that you're going just as they finish the science wing," Air Raid said without thinking. He could have kicked himself. Skyfire didn't react, but Air Raid knew that was just Skyfire pulling that veil of calm over everything they way he did. "Will you get to use any of this stuff at the moonbase?"

"Not to start with, but once we're established…"

Skyfire turned to retrieve another piece of equipment, leaving unsaid that establishing the base was likely to the better part of a year. And it would be longer than that before anyone from the expedition could risk a return. A year before Skyfire could unpack his equipment. Longer than that before they'd see him again. Air Raid couldn't help himself.

"You could still change your mind," he said. "You could stay here."

He didn't add please, but it was a close thing. Skyfire wouldn't look at him.

"It would be irresponsible to pull out now. Optimus would have to completely rework the roster and the supplies."

The same non-answer as ever. To start with it had been other things, like 'the moonbases are too important to put personal concerns first' and 'it's not long on the Cybertronian scale of things' and 'I have to pull my weight'. Air Raid thought that Skyfire was almost relieved to be able to fall back now onto 'it's too close to departure'.

It was too close. Much, much too close. A week and a half. Air Raid didn't understand how the time had gone so quickly. Or how he'd failed, over and over again, to change Skyfire's mind. He thought he'd found a counter-argument to every one of Skyfire's reasons… but Skyfire always had another ready. And Air Raid didn't think that any of them were the real ones.

He didn't know if even Silverbolt knew what those were. Silverbolt refused to talk about Skyfire most of the time - he tried to carry on as if everything was fine - but Air Raid had pinned him down and pestered him until he snapped.

"If I push him too hard, he'll just back away faster," Silverbolt had said. "I can't just - refuse to let him go, okay? That's… it would just make things much worse."

"How?" Air Raid had asked. "How could they be worse?"

Silverbolt had stared out of the window, his optics very pale.

"He might never come back."

Well, if Silverbolt couldn't, Air Raid would. He'd keep on telling Skyfire he could change his mind, right up until the last moment if he had to.

Because he had a feeling that Skyfire really didn't believe he could.

*

-- two

:Are you following me?:

:Um,: said Fireflight, :sort of? I didn't mean to, I was just flying around but then I saw you over this way and I wanted to see where you were going and--:

Up ahead, Skyfire banked gently, treading air to let Fireflight catch up. The setting sun turned his wings golden.

:Nowhere in particular. I wanted to stretch my wings before tomorrow,: he said. :It's a long flight.:

Fireflight put on a burst of speed and came under Skyfire's wing. Skyfire returned to his former flight path, Fireflight shadowing him a little closer than was strictly polite. Skyfire didn't say anything about it.

:What happens if you get attacked on the way?: Fireflight had seen the huge amount of supplies that Skyfire and Omega Supreme would be carrying. Omega would come back as soon as he'd unloaded his cargo. Skyfire… wouldn't. :It could be really bad if--:

:We've thought of that,: Skyfire reassured him. :Ultra Magnus and the last of the Iacon guard are going to stage a diversion. Omega will pick them up and bring them to Earth afterwards. It should look to the Decepticons as if it were a final evacuation run, nothing more.:

:But what if--:

:Everything's going to be fine, Fireflight.:

No it wasn't. Nothing was going to be fine. Maybe not ever again.

:I don't want you to go,: Fireflight whispered, wishing he could fly even closer to Skyfire, or better still, that they were in root mode so he could fling his arms around the larger 'bot and try to make him understand. :Why are you leaving us?:

:Fireflight…: Skyfire sounded tired and sad. :It's… something I have to do.:

:Why?:

:The moonbase project needs my combination of skills--:

:Why?: repeated Fireflight with quiet implacability.

Skyfire sighed.

:I need… I just need some time. And space. I… need to think, and I can't-- there's too much going on here, I need to get away. Just for a while.:

:Away from us?:

Skyfire was silent for long enough that Fireflight started to think he wasn't going to answer.

:Yes,: Skyfire said at last, sending a chill right to Fireflight's wing tips. :It's not… it's not that I don't want to be with you - all of you - I just - I need time. I don't know if I can… even begin to explain.:

Fireflight didn't think he could even begin to understand, but he knew one thing: however hard he tried to hide it, Skyfire was hurting. He'd been hurting since - Fireflight didn't know, exactly. Since Silverbolt almost died. Since Shockwave came so close to destroying his mind. Pit, maybe since long before they'd known him. Fireflight thought they'd helped a bit. He thought Silverbolt had helped more. But it wasn't enough, and now Skyfire was leaving.

:When you come back,: Fireflight said, :we'll be waiting. We'll miss you a lot.:

Skyfire seemed to lose height for a moment, vibration passing through his larger frame as if he'd hit a pocket of turbulence.

:You're amazing,: he said. :All of you. I don't think I really deserve you.:

He tried to put a lighter inflection on the last part, to make it sound like a joke. But Fireflight thought that he had maybe, accidentally, finally told the truth.

*

-- one

Silverbolt watched dawn approach from the window of his quarters. He couldn't see the sun coming up, from behind the city walls, but he knew Earth's sky well enough to recognise the lightening as black began to give way to grey, and then the soft rosy colours of the unseen sunrise.

He hadn't been able to recharge, although he'd tried his best. He'd… often been finding it difficult recently. He'd taken to sitting up late into downtime with reports, or delving into the depths of Teletraan-2 to broaden his knowledge of Autobot military history.

It wasn't that Skyfire had completely stopped staying over. They had interfaced several times since Silverbolt had left the medbay. But it had been… it hadn't been the same. Skyfire had put up so many walls that Silverbolt felt as though he were hammering fruitlessly on them even in idle conversation. He'd tried everything he could think of to get Skyfire to bring those walls down.

Everything except outright begging, or laying down an ultimatum - if you leave, it's over. He sometimes thought, lying awake alone in his berth, that he should have taken that tack from the start - that maybe Skyfire needed someone else to make the decision for him. But then he'd remember glimpses he'd had of Skyfire's deepest fears, and he knew that it would be the worst possible thing he could do. He couldn't make Skyfire do anything. He shouldn't even try. It would be… he was beginning to suspect… all too familiar in Skyfire's mind.

He'd thought he'd hated Starscream before. It was nothing compared to the way he felt now. The Decepticon Air Commander had not shown his face on Earth since Silverbolt had been captured, and Silverbolt actually wanted him to. He had caught himself imagining in clinical, shocking detail exactly what he would do to Starscream given just a few minutes alone with his lightning…

He offlined his optics and rested his head against the window. It wouldn't help. Even if Starscream died in battle tomorrow, it wouldn't change anything. The scars he'd left on Skyfire were the problem - and even if they healed quicker without Starscream picking at them, they would still need time.

I need time. It was still the closest Silverbolt had come to an honest answer from Skyfire. I need time.

Hadn't they had time? All this long slow process of finding each other, growing closer, falling in love - wasn't that enough time?

Maybe not, for Skyfire.

Yet again, Silverbolt found himself going back over the whole trajectory of their relationship, trying to see where he could have changed things. If he'd been quicker to act on his feelings for Skyfire - or if they hadn't gone to Cybertron - or if he'd said or done something different, somehow, somewhere along the way, that would have prevented Skyfire from pulling away…

He'd replayed dozens of moments in his processor. He'd indulged himself in triumphant scenes where he broke through Skyfire's walls and everything was okay - but he tried not to spend too much time on the fantasies. Silverbolt knew he was young, by Cybertronian standards, but he had learned, at length, to have faith in his own judgement. And he was sure - almost sure - that there was nothing he could have changed.

Almost sure, but not quite sure enough not to lie awake night after night, spark aching and processor spinning.

The sky was shading to blue outside. Silverbolt unfolded himself from his seat by the window. It was almost time. He had gone through a hundred scenarios for this moment, trying to find one that would undo all the last month's hurt and distance. He knew, in the end, that there was only one thing he could do.

He had to let Skyfire go.

*

-- launch

The hangar was crowded. In addition to all the Autobots who were going to Cybertron, there were dozens more here to see them off. Silverbolt had expected it to be a sombre gathering, but most of those present were in good spirits. Goodbyes were being said, but they were lighthearted and encouraging. No-one else seemed weighed down by fear and grief. Unless they were just hiding it better than Silverbolt suspected he was.

His brothers were clustered around him, quiet and watchful. Even Slingshot had turned up. They exchanged occasional farewells with some of the other 'bots, but for the most part they stuck close by him.

Skyfire was in the middle of discussing the final flight plan with Omega Supreme and Prowl. Omega Supreme had to stoop to fit even in the vast space. Silverbolt wanted desperately to be over there with Skyfire, but he was holding himself back. He was afraid that if he gave in to the impulse to go to Skyfire's side and stay there, he would do or say something he'd regret.

"Hey," said Jazz, appearing from the right of the group. "How you guys doin'?"

The others murmured various responses. Silverbolt shook himself and managed something approaching a normal tone.

"We're fine. You?"

"I dunno, I've gotten used to livin' the life of luxury here in the city." Jazz cast a rueful glance at the small crate of belongings he'd set at his feet. "Gonna be hard goin' for a while out there. I'll be lookin' forward to comin' back."

"I expect everyone will," Silverbolt said lightly. "I know we'll all miss you."

"Nice to be appreciated." Jazz cast a glance over the hangar, then beckoned Silverbolt aside. Silverbolt went warily. "Hey. You sure you're okay?"

Silverbolt kept his expression neutral. "Of course."

Jazz studied him for few seconds.

"I'll keep an optic on Skyfire," he said. "Whatever's goin' on with him, if he wants to talk about it, I'll be around."

Silverbolt wanted to snap that it was none of Jazz's business - and if Skyfire wouldn't talk to him, why would he talk to Jazz? - but he reined in the reaction. Jazz meant well. He might even be able to help.

"Thanks," he said finally.

"Sure."

Jazz drifted back over to the other Aerialbots, quickly engaging them in a friendly conversation about some human sports event or other. Silverbolt was grateful for the distraction. He looked over in Skyfire's direction again, just in time to catch Skyfire doing the same thing. Their optics met across the width of the hangar. Silverbolt was afraid for a long moment that Skyfire would look away, but instead, he said something to Omega Supreme and then he was coming towards them.

Silverbolt went to meet him. He wanted just a few minutes away from his brothers, if he could get it.

"I'm going to need to transform in a moment so the others can start boarding," Skyfire said when they reached each other. Silverbolt didn't think he was imagining the tension in his shoulders and wings. "So… I need to say goodbye now."

"Right," said Silverbolt. "I… hope it's uneventful. The trip, I mean. You'll - how long will it be before you can get in touch?"

"A few days. I'll comm you as soon as I can."

"Okay. Stay safe. Don't-- just, be safe."

They looked at each other, a kind of helplessness hanging between them. As long as they'd known each other, they'd been able to talk freely and easily, been totally comfortable with each other's silences. Now it was as if they were standing on opposite sides of a chasm, and neither of them knew what to say.

"Silverbolt…" Something seemed to crack in Skyfire's impenetrable calm. "I…"

Silverbolt shook his head, stepping forward and reaching up to pull Skyfire down to his level. He kissed him before he could say anything else. It was too late for anything he might have said; Skyfire really did have no choice now but to go through with the mission. Silverbolt had only meant it to be a brief embrace, suitable for a public goodbye, but he hadn't expected Skyfire to respond so-- urgently, and the next thing he knew, they were tangled in each other's arms as if they would never let go. Just for a few seconds, Silverbolt didn't care who might be watching or what anyone else thought. He kissed Skyfire as if he could somehow say everything without words.

When they finally eased apart, he had to fight to keep his voice level. He couldn't bring himself to step back out of Skyfire's arms just yet.

"I'll miss you."

"You too." It was barely more than a whisper. "I'll comm you as soon as I can. You'll… write, won't you?"

It would be too risky to keep in constant communication with the moonbase expedition to start with. They would have to send bundles of electronic messages, letters of a kind, at regularly scheduled intervals. The moonbase crew would be able to comm occasionally when they knew it was safe, but except in emergencies, Autobot City would not be able to reach them directly. Silverbolt was trying not to think about how he was going to stand not hearing Skyfire's voice for months.

"Yes, of course."

Skyfire brushed his cheek with fingertips that shook very slightly. Then he drew away, as obviously reluctant as Silverbolt felt.

"I'd better…"

Footsteps and voices announced the approach of Silverbolt's brothers. He stood back as they said their own goodbyes - Slingshot still stubbornly refusing to speak in more than monosyllables - and then Blaster was on the general comms, telling the non-participants to move back from the hangar entrance, and the transport mechs to take up their positions.

Skyfire gently disentangled himself from Fireflight, and looked over at Silverbolt one more time. Then he turned and walked quickly away without looking back.

Silverbolt watched him transform, taking his place beside Omega Supreme on the tarmac outside the hangar. Other 'bots began to move towards the shuttle and rocket, carrying their gear and shouting a few last farewells to their friends.

"Come on," said Silverbolt abruptly.

He strode out of the hangar, back into the halls of their new city. His brothers hurried after him.

"Don't you want to stay?" asked Air Raid.

"No. You can if you want."

They stuck with him. Of course they did. Silverbolt knew he wouldn't be able to bear watching Skyfire disappear into the atmosphere, but their silent solidarity eased the pain a little.

"Let's get some energon and look over the duty roster," he said. "We might as well get on with the day."

Chapter Text

The day they destroyed the space bridge, Optimus Prime ordered everyone in the city onto downtime except for the bare minimum needed to monitor the long-range defences. Red Alert wouldn't leave his post, naturally, and neither would Ultra Magnus, and Optimus himself only appeared briefly in the midst of the celebrations, but for everyone else it was an unprecedented holiday. With the space bridge gone, Megatron's forces could no longer reach Earth without passing through the intricate web of sensor arrays that Cosmos and Blaster had created around the planet. The Autobots would have enough warning to intercept the Decepticons at the point of their choosing - and to activate Autobot City's defences. Seaspray and Mirage's reconnaissance expeditions to the sunken Nemesis had registered no signs of activity, though they had yet to attempt to enter the base proper. Silverbolt and his team had scoured the planet for weeks before the attack, making sure there were no hitherto undiscovered reserves of Decepticon power. The Earth was, for the moment, safe.

And so were the Autobots. The noise and laughter in the large rec room was astounding - even overwhelming. Silverbolt looked for Hot Spot, but his friend had been dragged off by some of the Iacon 'bots - a pair of Triplechangers called Sunstorm and Springer who'd taken a liking to the Protectobot leader and his gestalt. Silverbolt couldn't blame them. His brothers were engaged in yet another drinking contest with the twins and Trailblazer, and even though Silverbolt knew that he would be the one dragging their sorry afts back to their quarters when they inevitably lost, he wouldn't have dreamed of stopping them.

There was more high grade than Silverbolt had ever seen. Apparently Ultra Magnus, now in charge of the daily running of Autobot City, had a surprisingly shrewd sense of forward planning. He'd ensured that there would be enough for this celebration when it came. Not only that, but the last arrivals from Iacon had included a couple of 'bots with experience in energon preparation. Small trays of gently glowing energon candies were being passed around. The older 'bots were treating them almost reverently, taking only one apiece and savouring it. Silverbolt had watched Fireflight try one earlier. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his brother speechless for so long.

He remembered Skyfire picking through those dusty parts on Cybertron. His siphon had more than fulfilled its potential. Even their standard rations tasted better these days. Silverbolt had never even realised that he disliked the slightly oily undertone of raw energon until he'd tried the refined version.

His spark ached dully. He ignored it, along with the urge to slip away from the party. He couldn't leave yet - people were still coming up to congratulate him and praise his team. He seemed to be getting away so far with drifting around the room, never staying in one place for long enough to be noticeably isolated, never getting involved in any serious conversation - but his absence would be noticed if he left. And he didn't want to worry his brothers.

But the truth was, he didn't feel like celebrating. Even when he'd seen the space bridge explode under their combined fire, he'd felt only a trickle of grim satisfaction. He was more aware of the fact that their last direct link to Cybertron was now gone. The space bridge had been a potential escape route for the force stationed on the moons; now they would have to fly the gauntlet of Decepticon patrols and scouts between Cybertron and Earth if they wanted to come home.

After they'd landed, when everyone was still yelling and hugging and dancing around ludicrously (in Air Raid's case), he had been hit by the almost unbearable need to hear Skyfire's voice. He would have given anything in the world right then to be able to open a comm link to the moonbase and speak to him for even a few minutes. But the moonbase was still on one-way comm restrictions. Contact was few and far between. Skyfire had commed three times since he'd left - three times in six months. But after all, Silverbolt reminded himself often, the comms had to be rationed and other people wanted a chance to talk face to face instead of relying on letters.

Skyfire… didn't write often, either. Silverbolt knew he must be busy - everyone on the expedition was expected to do the job of two or more mechs. Regular datapackets were sent between Earth and Cybertron to enable status reports to pass between Optimus and Prowl. Anyone could include a personal message if they wanted. To start with, Silverbolt had written every time a datapacket was due out. He was starting to falter, these last few weeks. Skyfire's replies, when they came, were brief, and focused on details of the moonbase construction. He never wrote about himself or his thoughts. He never asked questions about Earth… or about Silverbolt's brothers… or about Silverbolt.

Silverbolt realised he'd come to a stop and lingered for too long. Someone was already approaching him. He relaxed fractionally when he recognised Bluestreak.

"So, some party, huh?" Bluestreak was holding a cube of high-grade, but Silverbolt was almost certain it was the same one he'd picked up at the start of the evening. "It's so weird having all these people here… what you think of the Iacon guys?"

They weren't really 'the Iacon guys', not any more - they were part of the Earth taskforce now. But they were still the newcomers to the Autobot base, and it gave Silverbolt a strange sort of jolt every time someone like Bluestreak treated him as one of the old guard.

"They seem fine. Springer's a bit…" He stopped, trying to find a diplomatic way of phrasing it. "… he's used to working on his own. He doesn't like orders much."

"Especially not from someone younger than him?" Bluestreak asked, a wry smile quirking his lips. "I get that. I'm supposed to be training some of them in marksmanship, but…"

Silverbolt nodded, knowing what he meant. The Iacon refugees seemed to divide the Earth Autobots into two categories - old and to be respected, or young and to be impressed. He was under no illusions as to which side of the line he fell on. But Springer was a professional soldier and he would take orders, no matter how much he resented it. He'd just argue constantly about them. Silverbolt could handle that - he wasn't a patch on Slingshot and Air Raid at their worst.

"It's strange..." Bluestreak went on quietly. "When we first woke up here, we figured all the people we'd known on Cybertron would be four million years older than us, that we'd have all this catching up to do... but in the end, so much of the planet shut down that they went into stasis only a few millennia after we did. So we've all stayed pretty much equal. Funny how things work out, isn't it?"

"I suppose so." Even that made him think of Skyfire - of how the world had not remained still for him, but moved forward and left him lost. "Do you - are there people in stasis you're waiting to see?"

"No."

Bluestreak's voice was very quiet, very matter-of-fact. Silverbolt glanced at him, surprised and suddenly worried that he'd given offence. Bluestreak caught the look and half-smiled, as if he was used to it.

"I joined the Autobots after the devastation of Praxus," he said. "Well, except really they took me in. I was… the only survivor. I didn't really have anywhere else to go, so I joined up."

"I… I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's, kind of, one of those things that for a while everybody knew it, it was almost like being famous, but everybody tried not to talk about it, at least not around me - so after a while it turned into this sort of open secret. You know?"

"I know," said Silverbolt softly.

"Yeah, I thought you might." Bluestreak toyed with his half-drunk energon. "Hey, listen, if you ever - y'know, if you want someone to talk to - I'm actually a pretty good listener, believe it or not."

Other people had made similar offers, in more or less tactful fashion. Silverbolt found he didn't resent this one. He did believe Bluestreak was a good listener. His talkative nature couldn't quite hide the watchfulness in his optics or the way he picked up so easily and wordlessly on things - like Silverbolt's mood this evening.

"Thank you," Silverbolt said. "I'm… I don't really know what I want, yet."

"You're allowed to be angry, you know." Bluestreak wasn't looking at him; he was gazing out over the crowded room. "I mean, I don't know what happened exactly, and I kind of get the impression you don't either, but even if he had really good reasons, just upping and leaving like that… it's not okay. You're allowed to not be okay with it. Just, my opinion."

Silverbolt looked over at his brothers. They were having fun, but they hadn't quite been the same since Skyfire left. He'd affected them all - become a part of them. Now they were struggling to find their centre again, adjusting their orbits to account for the missing sixth.

"Thank you," Silverbolt said again, meaning it more than he could properly express. "I think maybe I needed to hear that."

*

Jazz had taken to turning up unannounced in Skyfire's doorway and talking at him until he gave in and took a break. It was driving Skyfire absolutely crazy, but at the same time he felt a reluctant gratitude for the interruptions. If it weren't for Jazz dragging him away from his quarters, he might never leave.

"Yo, did ya hear the news?" There was triumph in Jazz's voice as he swung into the small room. "They've done it - the Earth space bridge is down."

"Really?" Skyfire put down his datapad, willing for once to give Jazz his full attention immediately. "Did they disable it, or--?"

"Nope, total destruction. It ain't gettin' back up from that. We're havin' a toast in the rec room, if you wanna come."

Skyfire hesitated. He felt oddly awkward around the other members of the moonbase crew - as if he were there on false pretences, and everyone knew it. But it would be rude to hide in his quarters while the others were celebrating. He set aside the datapad, carefully disconnected the power source he'd been testing, and followed Jazz to the 'rec room'.

It wasn't much of a room, and to be honest none of them had much time for recreation, but at least it was big enough for Skyfire to feel comfortable standing up. The tunnels and rooms they'd hollowed out so far were cramped and claustrophobic. He often had to stoop, and he was developing an unpleasant ache in his camshafts from constantly working sitting down. No-one was especially comfortable in their cave-like lodgings, but Skyfire was also dealing with the intense claustrophobia brought on by being unable to get out and fly.

The rest of the moonbase crew were already gathered. Some miracle - or Jazz - had even brought Prowl out of his lair. Ironhide and Cliffjumper were arguing about something again, with Gears egging them on. Smokescreen was attending to the energon, and Brawn was staring moodily out of the single window.

It wasn't exactly the company Skyfire would have chosen. He remembered vividly, for a moment, the hubbub of the Aerialbots' chatter coming down the corridor and the way it had pulled him out of his thoughts every time.

"Pity there's no high grade," Jazz said. "Extra rations'll have to do. C'mon, 'bots, wake up and look happy! We're celebratin'!"

There was grumbling, but for the most part the moonbase crew obliged. No-one could honestly say they were happy here, but they were putting up with it on the promise that they'd be returning to Earth as soon as their task was complete. No-one else seemed to feel as trapped as Skyfire did.

"Yes, we're on target," Prowl was saying in response to a question from Cliffjumper. "At this rate we'll be able to reopen communications with Earth in ten or twelve orns."

That was in the region of three Earth months. Some way off, but uncomfortably close. Skyfire flinched from the thought of being in regular comm contact with Autobot City.

Messages had been coming in steadily since he'd left. Not just from Silverbolt, who wrote with a regularity that made Skyfire guiltily aware of his own sparse responses, but from Fireflight, Air Raid - even Skydive had written occasionally. Perceptor wrote often. Hound, Beachcomber, and Trailblazer had all sent a few notes. Each new letter seemed to weigh him down a bit more. Even here he couldn't escape - couldn't get the solitude and silence he was convinced he needed to make sense of his own processor. He made himself reply to some of them, but far too many were sitting unanswered in his inbox. The guilt he felt every time he went near them only made it harder to think of anything to write back.

That guilt was compounded by the results of Jazz's monitoring of Decepticon activity on Cybertron. Starscream was there, certainly, but he was uncannily quiet, apparently on a short leash under Megatron's watchful optic. It might be punishment for attacking Shockwave and helping Skyfire escape, or the result of his erratic behaviour in targeting Silverbolt - or both, or something else entirely. No-one was ever entirely sure which of Starscream's actions found favour with Megatron - he often seemed to get away with what would be unthinkable in the Autobot ranks, only to be punished for some minor disagreement. Whatever the reason, he hadn't been back to Earth since Skyfire had left - and now he could no longer reach it. Silverbolt was safe from that threat, at least. And it had been no action of Skyfire's that had ensured it, in the end. He might as well have stayed on Earth.

Except out here he was even more sure that he needed to get away, just for a while. Get away from everything - the Autobots, Earth, Cybertron, all of it. He felt like he hadn't had a chance to catch his breath since he'd been pulled from the ice. He just… needed time.

Something Prowl was saying about resource replenishment gave him the beginning of an idea. He carefully ignored the part of his processor that whispered he was only making things worse, and considered the logistics. It might be workable. He was almost finished building the large, manually piloted transport shuttle that would be used once they were in a position to bring energon from Earth in large quantities, so he wouldnt be needed for transport for much longer…

"Hey." Jazz had appeared at his side again. Skyfire realised he hadn't been making any effort to talk to the others present; maybe no-one but Jazz had noticed, or maybe they all had. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Skyfire tried not to sound too irritated, but it was just one thing after another - he was constantly being jogged out of his thoughts before he could reach any conclusions. "I think I'll head back now."

He didn't check whether there were any sour looks following him out of the room. At this point it didn't even matter; he could imagine them clearly enough. And he couldn't truthfully claim he didn't deserve them.

*

The house of cards was impressive - nearly as tall as Silverbolt himself, its base taking up the entirety of the Aerialbots' common room table. Silverbolt froze in the doorway, afraid that the slightest movement would dislodge it.

Air Raid was contemplating his construction, another pack of cards in his hand.

"It's okay," he said. "I found a new way of stabilising them. They won't come down unless something actually crashes into them."

Silverbolt was still careful as he moved into the room. Air Raid's new hobby had started out with basic pyramidal shapes constructed from the Autobot-sized replicas of Earth playing cards that Smokescreen had produced, and swiftly expanded into intricate constructions of ever-increasing size. Silverbolt would never have believed Air Raid could have the patience for something that required such delicate balance and concentration if he hadn't seen it with his own optics.

"What are you going to do when you run out of cards?"

"Find more," Air Raid replied promptly. There had been a few complaints of people's decks going missing recently, but they were good-natured. Most Autobots seemed interested in Air Raid's card houses, which he constructed in the large rec room as often as in the Aerialbots' private space, and he was always getting questions and compliments on his designs. "Sideswipe says Sunstreaker's got a stash, he's gonna dig them out."

Silverbolt came around the table to examine the structure from the other side. Air Raid had somehow created a kind of spiralling central ramp that was flanked with little pointed crenellations. In the middle Silverbolt could just see an interlocking frame of cards that was keeping the whole thing steady. Air Raid had carefully chosen packs of cards with different coloured backs to make patterns as the tower rose. Silverbolt shook his head, impressed all over again.

"Are you taking pictures of these? You really should."

"Fireflight's taken some. But I can always build them again if I want to, I'm saving all the schematics in my permanent memory as I go along."

"Still, it would be nice to have a record. And it's easier to show other people if you don't have to build the whole thing first."

"I guess." Air Raid seemed to be only half listening, idly tossing the cards he held from one hand to another. "There's something not quite right about his one, dunno what it is…"

Silverbolt smiled. The fact that Air Raid was more interested in building the card houses than showing them off was another surprise, and one that Silverbolt liked. So much of their existence had been centred on proving themselves to other people. It was wonderful to see Air Raid doing something for the sheer love of it.

He'd never had the chance before. None of them had. But Earth was so quiet now. In the months since they'd destroyed the space bridge, there'd been almost no Decepticon presence anywhere near the planet. A half-hearted response had come from Mercury, but the early-warning sensors had done their job, and Astrotrain and the others had been sent packing with severe enough damage to keep them out of action for a while. Autobot City was more than half complete, and there were so many Autobots now that the shift schedule had slowly relaxed into what Silverbolt was told was a more normal pattern for Cybertronian days. He hadn't even realised that the hectic interspersal of uptime and downtime wasn't how it was normally done.

And now he had… free time. More of it than he knew what to do with. His brothers had found it hard to adjust as well, but gradually they'd begun to explore their own interests. Air Raid's card houses were one avenue of experiment. They'd all taken a keen interest in the library of Cybertronian movies on Teletraan-2. Skydive had even started a film club, whose members included both Autobots and humans, to compare Earth and Cybertronian styles of cinematography. Fireflight was finally able to indulge his endless curiosity almost without restraint, and to everyone's surprise - his own included - it had turned out that when he had time to find out everything he wanted to about something, he was much better able to stick with a train of thought - and remember to come back when he'd said he would. He'd formed a happy alliance with Perceptor and Chip, and would often volunteer his downtime to fly them somewhere in the name of Science.

Hot Spot's team were out and about more and more often, lending their assistance to human rescue squads. Sometimes Silverbolt went with them, and sometimes, bizarrely, so did Slingshot. Something odd seemed to be happening to his rivalry with Blades - they'd gone from hating to be in the same room with each other to actively seeking each other out, albeit to go another round of arguments. But they were only arguments - neither of them had thrown a punch for a long time now. Hot Spot had a theory about it that Silverbolt was finding hard to accept, but he had to admit it did kind of look like… well, that was between them, and he wasn't going to interrogate Slingshot. He wished he could ask Skyfire what he thought.

Even that ache was less than it had been, although it still refused to go away. Talking to Perceptor and Bluestreak had helped. Bluestreak really was a good listener, and had enough experience with losing people - in one way or another - to empathise without making assumptions. And Perceptor had found an excuse to start a conversation with Silverbolt in the rec room one evening, which he'd gently turned to Skyfire…

*

"I've had all of two replies from him this whole time," Perceptor said, exasperation mingling with resignation in his voice. "He gets like this sometimes."

"He does?"

"Oh yes. Back at the Academy, he'd either shut himself in his room for a few orns or disappear off to another solar system for even longer. At least this time he hasn't headed off into space without telling anyone. Of course, Starscream--" and Perceptor said the name very deliberately, refusing to dodge around it, "--made it worse. He couldn't stand being ignored, so he'd keep chasing and chasing, and Skyfire would just… pull away even more. I've learned to let him get over it and wait for him to come back on his own. I'm still hopeful he'll break the habit now things are different."

Something loosened in Silverbolt's spark then. It gave him hope that he'd done the right thing after all by letting Skyfire go.

"What was he like when he first came to the Academy?" he asked, suddenly aware that he'd been avoiding talking about Skyfire for so long, it felt like a dam about to burst. "Before…"

"Before he met Starscream?" Perceptor sipped his energon thoughtfully. "He was very… driven. He had a lot to prove. Has he told you much about his early life?"

"No… not really."

"I'm not surprised. He was always… ashamed, in a way, even though it showed nothing but credit to him. He was sparked simply as a transportation mech, you know."

"I think he did mention that once," Silverbolt said slowly.

"You probably don't know much about that whole controversy," Perceptor went on, settled into his story now and happy to keep talking with little prompting. "For a long time, Cybertronians were assigned roles when they were sparked. It was believed that Vector Sigma would create sparks suited for their occupation, and that no element of choice was necessary. By the time my generation were created, it was beginning to fall into disrepute. There was a lot of anger about the lack of free will. 'Bots chose to retrain, reprogram themselves even, take on new physical forms and learn new skills. A lot of the rigidity had already been lost, especially when it became apparent that when Vector Sigma offered up the spark of someone who had died rather than creating a new one, there was very little control to be had over its personality and destiny. But there was still stigma in a couple of areas. Sentient mass transit, for example - the sparks of shuttles and trams were generally seen as dull and uncurious, content to carry passengers on the same routes for vorns."

Silverbolt felt a stab of anger at the idea of anyone dismissing Skyfire like that, but said nothing, not wanting to disrupt Perceptor's flow.

"Skyfire was specifically assigned to transport scientific expeditions out to other systems. You can imagine how quickly he became involved as much more than just a pilot - he won a lot of respect from some of his passengers, and they were more than willing to teach him anything he wanted to know. Others were… less generous. They found it ridiculous and disrespectful that a 'mere shuttle' was engaging them in discussion on their projects. Some were very cruel."

Perceptor scowled with uncharacteristic emotion.

"Fortunately, he was encouraged by several of the good ones to apply to the Academy. He had to fight every step of the way, but he taught himself enough and persisted so long that they eventually let him in. We met soon after his arrival, and it was obvious at once how intelligent and dedicated he was. He faced a lot of prejudice at the start, from people who'd look at his root mode and pre-judge him. He could have requested a reformat, taken on a new alt-mode, but… he loved to fly, to explore. He didn't want to change himself to fit in better. I always admired that about him."

"Yes," said Silverbolt, thinking of the steel beneath Skyfire's mild exterior. "I think maybe that was why he found it hard to adjust to being with the Autobots, even though he wanted to help."

"I agree. Taking orders, carrying people around, putting aside his scientific knowledge for the sake of other priorities - yes, I think it was all horribly familiar to start with. But… you made a real difference, you know."

Silverbolt said nothing, unable to speak through the mixture of gladness and despair that gripped him. Skyfire had changed so much and seemed to open up so far to him - only to start retreating just as Silverbolt thought they understood each other completely.

"I don't think I've ever seen him as happy as he is with you," Perceptor went on gently. "If he's pulled away now, it's not because of anything you've done. He has his own glitches to work out."

"I suppose Starscream is one of them," Silverbolt said.

"Yes." Perceptor sighed, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling as if looking into the past. "The other area in which Cybertron was slow to adjust was allowing military mechs to transition into civilian life. It's a large part of what began the Decepticon movement, even before the energy shortages. Starscream never even fired a gun after he was sparked; he was adamant that he wasn't going to fight and he went straight to the Academy to demand admission. He faced even worse treatment than Skyfire - instead of looking down on him, people saw him as dangerous. He used that to his advantage. It's not really surprising that he and Skyfire ended up as partners. For a long time they had what you might call an… 'us against the world' mentality. Neither of them trusted many other people, especially Starscream."

All at once, Silverbolt understood why Skyfire had known how to handle his brothers in the beginning when they'd been so insular and suspicious. He'd thought it was just Skyfire's seemingly endless patience - but Skyfire had found it familiar, hadn't he?

"But they brought out the worst in each other," said Perceptor. "I think they both thought they could… change the other one. Skyfire was conscientious, generous, ready to forgive the people who'd treated him poorly, and he considered the best revenge against them to be simply proving them wrong. Starscream was vindictive and suffered no qualms when he trampled others to get his way. Skyfire thought he could teach Starscream conscience. Starscream thought he could break Skyfire of the habit of compassion. They were both wrong, but the more they tried, the uglier their partnership became. It was a bad thing to watch. As the energon crisis set in, when everything was falling apart around us, I think Skyfire started to realise it had to end. He tried more than once to get out. But then they went to Earth… and only Starscream came back."

Perceptor sipped from his cube again. He didn't look like he was really tasting it.

"There was a lot of talk. Many people thought Starscream had killed Skyfire, or at least left him for dead. Even I wondered. But in the end, I didn't think Starscream could have cut the cord any more than Skyfire. He was… far, far worse when he returned, all pretence of morality gone, and he quickly alienated the last remaining allies he and Skyfire had at the Academy. He lashed out at everyone. There was a lot of pain there, and he seemed to think he could lessen it if he inflicted enough on other people. They never had a chance to throw him out - the Academy was shut down by government order and we were all cut adrift. When I heard later that he'd joined the Decepticons, I wasn't surprised. Or that he rose so quickly through the ranks. They had no use for conscience either, and he was as quick to learn to fight as he had been to learn science."

"I can't really imagine him without weapons. I suppose I thought he'd need to be armed to go off-planet."

"Skyfire was the one who was armed. I don't think he entirely trusted Starscream with a weapon, even before everything went to slag." Perceptor shook his head. "I held out hope for vorns that Skyfire would come back. Starscream's account was garbled enough that there was room for hope. But in the end I accepted that he'd been deactivated. I can't even describe what it was like to come out of stasis here on Earth and see him. It felt like having him back from the dead - all the more now he was free from Starscream at last. You could almost call it the best thing that could have happened to him. It's… funny how things turn out."

"I don't think he sees it that way," said Silverbolt.

"No." Perceptor sighed again. "And I'd never say it to him, of course. He lost so much. But I don't think he's quite realised yet how much he's gained in return."

*

Silverbolt was brought back to the present by a door banging open to disgorge a laughing, scrambling Fireflight, clutching what looked like a scaled-up human sword, pursued by Slingshot.

"Give that back!"

"Not 'til you say who it's frooo-oooom--"

"It's none of your fragging business--!"

Fireflight darted around the couch and headed for the main door to their quarters. Slingshot went the other way, putting on a burst of speed to head him off. Fireflight attempted to reverse direction with a shriek of mixed alarm and hilarity… and with a certain amount of inevitability, lost his balance and went careening into Air Raid's card house.

Cards flew everywhere as Fireflight nosedived over the table and wound up in a heap on the far side. Slingshot stopped dead, Fireflight stared in horror at the wreckage, and Silverbolt turned to Air Raid to prevent him attempting fratricide--

Air Raid looked at the mess and shrugged. "Oh well, I was gonna need to start that one over again anyhow. Can you guys help me pick them up?"

"Sure," said Slingshot, grabbing the sword from an unresisting Fireflight and subspacing it.

"Oh Primus, Air Raid, I'm so sorry," Fireflight babbled, reaching for the nearest cards, "of course I'll help--"

"It's no big deal. Hey, you've got some stuck in your flaps!"

"Huh, that gives me an idea," said Slingshot… and the next thing Silverbolt knew, he and Air Raid were plastering Fireflight with cards, finding ways to get them to stay on while he shrieked that it tickled and begged fruitlessly for mercy.

Somewhere in the middle of the racket, Skydive stuck his head out of his room, regarded them all with weary resignation, and then returned to whatever it was he'd been doing for seven hours straight. And Silverbolt started to laugh, helplessly and with a dizzying awareness of how much things had changed.

"Come and help," urged Air Raid as Fireflight squalled that he'd do anything they wanted if they'd just let him up. "Maybe we can cover up every bit of paint so he's like an armadillo…"

Fireflight gave him a pleading look. Silverbolt laughed harder. And he thought that maybe, after all, things would come right. Skyfire would be back soon - and there would be no more Starscream harrying Silverbolt through the skies - and with this peace and space, surely he would get past whatever had driven him away.

"I'm not going to help," Silverbolt said firmly, "but I am going to get the camera."

*

"Come in," said Prowl as Skyfire hesitated in the doorway to his office. "Close the door."

At least it was a real office now, rather than a rough-hewn cave. The temporary passages had been widened out and reinforced, as well. Skyfire could go to most places on the base without stooping.

"I can't fault your calculations," Prowl said without preamble as Skyfire carefully took a seat on the crate that served as a spare chair. They weren't exactly living in luxury yet. "You're right about the energon reserves and our plans for the next few years of Earth time. In fact, it's a commendable proposition and could save us considerable trouble in the future. But I question your motives."

"What?" Skyfire hadn't expected such bluntness; he was too used to Optimus's tact. "You can't possibly think I'd do anything to hurt the Autobot cause--"

"I don't, as a matter of fact," said Prowl coolly. "I don't believe you would even have brought this to me unless you genuinely thought it would help, and I also think it's a stroke of genius that will make a marked difference to our position here. But I'm almost certain that wasn't the angle you approached it from. I am reluctant to give you permission to do yourself further harm."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not blind, Skyfire. First you fled Earth, then you retreated into your quarters here, now you want to set off into the unknown with no idea when you'll be coming back. I… sympathise with any feelings of claustrophobia you may be suffering--" the quick flicker of his optics towards the door made Skyfire think that Jazz had been dragging Prowl out of his office almost as often as he'd been pestering Skyfire, "-- but I'm not sure you realise how your actions are impacting on others."

Skyfire muted his vocaliser forcefully to prevent himself from saying something regrettable. Did Prowl think he was an idiot? Of course he knew he was hurting people, especially those he'd left on Earth. It was an unending weight of guilt on his spark. But he had to do something or he was going to go mad. He had to find a way out of this maze he'd stumbled into, and only the silence of space seemed like it would help.

"Nevertheless," Prowl went on when it became obvious that Skyfire was not going to reply, "I will approve the mission. The solar systems Cybertron will pass in the next few years are a resource we should not squander, and you are the only one with the skills to scout them out and determine what use we can make of them. But I think you should go back to Earth first."

"We won't be making the redeployment run until both moonbases are operational," Skyfire said evenly. "That will be another four or five months from now, by which time Cybertron will be close enough to give the Decepticons the same idea. If I don't go now, I might as well not go at all."

"You could make the run alone. You could bring us some supplies on your return, that would improve everyone's morale."

"Do we need the supplies?" asked Skyfire stubbornly.

Prowl held his gaze for several seconds.

"No," he said at last. "And I am concerned by the increasing orbital patrols. But if you wanted to take the chance…"

"I would rather set off for the upcoming systems as soon as possible."

Prowl sighed.

"Take what you need, then. Your manifest seems reasonable. Take a little more energon than you've specified - the last thing we need is for you to end up drifting without fuel. You're cleared to depart whenever you think fit."

Maybe Optimus had bled into Prowl more than it seemed over the vorns. Skyfire got to his feet.

"Thank you," he said.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Prowl replied quietly. "And… you may use the comms before you go."

Skyfire nodded, but his spark sank. How was he going to tell Silverbolt?

*

"Okay, okay, maybe this wasn't one of my best ideas..." Wheeljack admitted sheepishly.

A chorus of groans from the mechs scattered over the ground suggested they'd figured that out some time previously. Silverbolt had managed to steer clear of the latest pile-up, and was leaning against the hangar wall stifling laughter. After the initial frustration, the whole exercise had become so ridiculous that he couldn't help but see the funny side.

Hot Spot, sprawled on his back and showing no sign of moving any time soon, shot him a sour look. "I can see you sniggering over there. How do you keep dodging the fallout?"

"I'm just faster on my feet than you lot?"

There were several rude remarks from both the Protectobots and Silverbolt's own brothers. Fireflight was in the process of picking himself up; he was the only one who had retained his initial enthusiasm for the project.

"I think I almost had it that time--"

"Give it a rest, 'Flight," Slingshot groaned. "You got me right in the nosecone. I can't feel my radar array."

"That wasn't my fault this time, you were supposed to be going on the other side..."

"You know what," Air Raid put in plaintively, "I like being a leg. It's fine. I'm a good leg. Legs rock."

"At least," put in Streetwise from the other heap, "you didn't get two people - naming no names, Groove and Blades - both trying for your spot. I think my chassis's broken in two places."

Blades and Groove had plenty to say about that, of course, and Slingshot couldn't resist jumping in with a few choice remarks about Blades's co-ordination, and Blades wasn't going to let that go... Silverbolt left them to it and wandered up to Wheeljack, who was staring gloomily at his datapad.

"With a bit more work we can probably manage it," he said. "The question is whether it's really worth it."

"Yeah, I thought it'd be more... intuitive, with your gestalt link and all." Wheeljack cast a dubious look at the squabbling mechs. "I just thought, switching out your weapons capabilities would throw the Decepticon combiners off, they'd be expecting a photon shot from Slingshot on Superion's right and they'd get a scatter-burst from Air Raid instead... but it's no good if you can't get back into combined form quickly enough."

"We'll give it a couple more sessions," Silverbolt promised, though inwardly he cringed at the thought. Wheeljack had proposed learning to change their gestalt configuration mid-battle, having the four smaller Aerialbots form different limbs than usual. More than once, they had entirely failed to reconnect to Superion's torso, causing Silverbolt to crash painfully down on his aft. "It might be a useful backup in a face-off with the Decepticon combiners..."

Hot Spot came up behind him, looking a bit scuffed, and slung an arm around Silverbolt's shoulders.

"Hey, maybe while we're at it, we should try mixing it up a bit, connect a couple of yours up to Defensor..."

Behind them, there were a series of loud clangs and the familiar sound of Blades and Slingshot gearing up for a fight. Out of habit, Silverbolt turned quickly to make sure they weren't killing each other, but First Aid was already shepherding Blades off to have his rotors looked at, and Skydive and Air Raid appeared to be actually sitting on Slingshot.

"Primus forbid," he said dryly.

"Yeah, seriously, don't try it," Wheeljack put in. "It'd mess your gestalt link up horribly - like sticking someone else's programming in your processor."

"Anyhow, I take it we're done here for the day?" Hot Spot stretched, and Silverbolt felt the amusement and wincing weariness in his field. "I cannot tell you how up for a cube of high grade I am right now."

"Someone mentioned high grade?" shouted Streetwise from across the hangar.

"Sure, sure, Groove's got a bunch, right Groove?"

"I was saving that," Groove said without rancour. "But if it's for a good cause…"

Enthusiastic approval seemed to imply that the Aerialbots and Protectobots could think of no better cause than getting overcharged after a day of repeatedly hitting the ground hard.

"Let's head to our place, then." Hot Spot lowered his voice and added, for Silverbolt's audios only, "and I reserve the right to crash on your couch if it ends the way it did last time."

"My couch is your couch," Silverbolt replied solemnly, but couldn't keep his expression serious. "And I'll try and herd my lot off before they start redecorating yours."

"Come on then, guys, let's get going!"

The mixed gaggle of gestalt members headed for the hangar exit. Silverbolt stopped to arrange another session with Wheeljack - who at least seemed to have regained his customary good humour - then hurried to catch up.

Hot Spot was waiting at the entrance to the residential section. The others were a cacophony somewhere up ahead.

"I'm going to stop by my quarters quickly," Silverbolt said. "I was waiting on a report from Cosmos about atmospheric conditions over the Atlantic, and I'd like to just check it's come in."

"You're a workaholic, you know that?" Hot Spot shook his head cheerfully. "Okay, I'll see you there."

Silverbolt gave him a friendly shove down the corridor and went into the Aerialbots' common room, then through to his own quarters. Maybe he was a workaholic, but he couldn't say he'd want to be any different. Since everything had quietened down he'd had a chance to catch up on the dozens of things he'd always felt he should have known from the start. Skydive wasn't the only one staying up late poring over old historical records on Teletraan-2, and Silverbolt was finally learning to feel confident in his own command. Weather patterns over the Atlantic were a minor thing, but after the hurricane that had hit last summer, he'd been studying meteorology with some willing human volunteers. He didn't want his brothers, or Hot Spot's, or the humans, caught in something like that again.

The report was waiting in his inbox (along with a cheery note from Cosmos that all was quiet in the solar system). So was a message from Skyfire.

Silverbolt's spark lurched. He'd had a reply, brief though it was, to his last letter. That made this the first time Skyfire had written to him without prompting. He opened the message hesitantly. It might be a good sign. Or it might…

He read the message. Then he read it again. The words didn't quite make sense, or maybe he just didn't want them to. Phrases jarred out of the mix at him - have to leave while the launch window is open - unsure of the duration, maybe a year or so - out of comm range - all happened rather suddenly…

He read it again. His spark hurt. Not the dull ache of missing Skyfire, but a tearing, unbearable pain that he knew could not really be physical. He realised he was shaking. He'd waited so long - he'd been holding on so patiently - he'd given Skyfire as much time as he needed--

"At least this time he hasn't headed off into space without telling anyone," Perceptor had said.

So much for that.

Hot Spot came looking for him some time later. Silverbolt didn't raise his head from where he'd buried it in his arms, just let Hot Spot read the words on the screen for himself.

"He couldn't even call?" Hot Spot demanded, voice sharp with disbelief and anger. "He just left you a note? That's-- Primus, what is wrong with the mech?"

Silverbolt couldn't muster up the will to contradict him. Hot Spot sat down next to him and, gently, pulled him into his arms.

"He doesn't deserve you," Hot Spot muttered furiously. "I slagging hope he knows that."

"Don't," Silverbolt whispered.

"I'm tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt," Hot Spot retorted, but he said no more, just held Silverbolt tightly as he shook.

Maybe I am too, Silverbolt thought wretchedly. He offlined his optics and clung to Hot Spot. Maybe he was never going to come back. Maybe I'm an idiot for thinking he would. Maybe… I've lost him.

*

The black of space was cold, and silent, and welcoming. Skyfire flew until Cybertron vanished behind him, checked his heading, and flew some more.

It was wonderful. Glorious. It brought back a hundred memories of other journeys in other times. Those first expeditions when he'd been little more than a pilot, but had begun to discover the joy and fascination of scientific exploration. The trips out of the Academy, alone at first, and then with Starscream. Setting out, just the two of them, and Skyfire would think, each time, that if they could just get away from the suspicion and resentment on Cybertron, maybe Starscream would start to change, or maybe Skyfire would understand him better…

Setting out to find new planets, new species, new sources of energy. To study the unknown and tease its secrets from it, like the intricate dance of the Medusa Gyr system, or the gorgeous crystalline structure that had covered the whole surface of Tanus IX. Even when things had become so bad between them that Skyfire had thought of ending it, his spark would lift when they set out on a new flight, and he would think that maybe this would be the time that everything fell into place…

He'd even felt the weary flicker of excitement when they'd set out for Earth that last time. They'd been sure it would contain undocumented organic life, that prize they coveted. They'd found the planet wrapped in an ice age, and Skyfire had given into reckless desperation, because somewhere, in the back of his processor, he'd thought, this is the very last chance for us…

Space was cold and silent and welcoming. Skyfire could almost feel the vacuum caressing his plating like water. He tried not to think about Silverbolt. He had, after all, never deserved Silverbolt.

Maybe when he came back, he would know what to do. Maybe he'd understand his own spark. And maybe he'd find some sort of peace, out there in the black.

Chapter Text

Deep in the black of space, the devourer moved steadily onward. In his wake a trail of shattered rock and metal remained the only evidence of the planets he had passed - and consumed. His target was still far distant, but closer now than it had been for uncountable vorns.

He had once been turned back by the five-faced masters of that world, but he had bided his time and waited as their power decayed. Their machine slaves had overthrown them long ago, and none could be left now who knew his secret weakness. It was time to put an end to the threat of the Matrix for good. And that factory of weapons - that metal planet - Cybertron - would be no more.

*

Autobot City was officially complete. The best part about that was the chance for another party, and Air Raid was starting to appreciate why people said Ultra Magnus wasn't as stuffy as he appeared. Mech knew what the good stuff was, in terms of high grade.

The good stuff was available all round. They had an actual choice of rations these days. In fact - and Air Raid could hardly wrap his processor around the idea - they weren't technically rations any more. The restrictions had been lifted. They were free to choose how much they refuelled, and when, and by what means. To no-one's real surprise, Fireflight had spent a week eating nothing but energon candies before he'd moved on to try other things. None of them could quite get into the habit of filling up their tanks every time, but they were slowly learning that there was more to energon consumption than just refuelling. Sideswipe had been promising them he'd cook his "special dish" sometime. Sunstreaker, in a display of uncharacteristic charity, had pulled them aside later to warn them that his brother was the worst cook on Cybertron, and to treat anything he presented them with as hazardous waste.

Air Raid had been thinking he might like to try this cooking thing himself. Except when he'd mentioned it to Silverbolt, Silverbolt had looked so horrified that Air Raid had wondered if energon had dangerous properties he had not been previously aware of.

But Silverbolt hadn't said he couldn't. Silverbolt was… in general… a lot more laid back, these days. And at the same time, Air Raid knew he was earning himself a solid reputation as a strong leader and able commander. It was as if, as he found his feet among the Autobot officers, he was able to relax more around his gestalt brothers.

Or maybe they'd just grown up enough to earn his trust. Air Raid knew that none of them were as thoughtless as they had been. He could even, in his more private moments, look back at how they'd been when they'd first joined the Autobots, and wince.

So much of that change had been because of Skyfire. Air Raid watched the crowd mill around in the Autobot rec room. Cliffjumper and Brawn were teasing Windcharger about something. Most of the moonbase crew had come back to Earth now. Others had taken their place - Optimus Prime had finally joined Prowl, and Jazz had come back for a visit, but intended to return, while Perceptor was off visiting the moons with a view to bringing back some more samples.

Skyfire was notable by his absence. It was eighteen months since he'd left Earth - almost a year since he headed out into space with no warning at all. They'd heard nothing from him since.

On the other side of the room, Fireflight and Skydive were chatting easily with Arcee and Hot Rod. Slingshot was in the middle of some sort of friendly argument with the twins and Springer. Silverbolt was talking to Hot Spot and Bluestreak, the three of them laughing over something.

It was good to see Silverbolt laughing. Not that he didn't - he moved briskly through their days, with humour and seriousness where appropriate - but there was an edge of sadness underneath his smile even when he was mostly happy. That, too, was because of Skyfire. Air Raid found it hard to reconcile both concepts.

But Silverbolt was doing okay. Air Raid knew that, deep down, he was still waiting - still hoping Skyfire would come back - but he wasn't letting it stop him from getting on with his life. That was good. There was a tiny, treacherous part of Air Raid that thought maybe it would be better if Skyfire never came back - if Silverbolt could just move on and, maybe, think about getting involved with someone else - but it was a voice that he seldom listened to.

The truth was that he missed Skyfire. Probably not as much as Silverbolt did. Or Fireflight. But he was one of them, he really was, and Air Raid still held out hope that he was going to realise that eventually, and come back to them.

Even if Air Raid might need to throw a few rocks at his head before he could forgive him.

*

It was a beautiful little planet. It was almost entirely ocean, interspersed only with occasional archipelagos, and it was in the middle of a steamy, tropical era that had encouraged the blooming of countless different species of algae throughout the waters. From orbit, it was striped with bands of colour that shifted slowly with the tides.

Skyfire couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted to show it to Silverbolt.

He sighed and returned to his instruments. He'd found a rocky island with caves big enough to set up a base of sorts, and he was rather enjoying the warm, humid weight of the atmosphere at the equator, although he'd have to check his seams for rust before he left. He also hadn't thought to use the caves on the first day; he'd foolishly forgotten about monsoons and failed to consider their likely magnitude on a world with so much water. At least none of his equipment had actually been carried out to sea, though some of it had bobbed merrily along in the runoff almost to the beach. He was fairly sure he'd looked utterly ridiculous as he'd chased after it. He rather wanted to share that with Silverbolt, too.

Skyfire glanced at the cave entrance, where the daily downpour formed a sheet of water that glowed faintly. He thought that some of the bioluminescent algae were getting caught up in the water cycle, launched high into the atmosphere by evaporation, only to descend in the rain as glimmering motes. He'd taken images, but he didn't think his analytical, multi-spectrum recording devices really captured its beauty. He wished Fireflight were here with his camera…

Oh, slag it. His processor had only one track today and he might as well accept it. Skyfire left his experiments where they were and moved over to the cave entrance. There was a large, comfortable rock just inside. He sat down and gazed out through the rain.

The island was desolate. There were no trees on this world; there was no reasonable way they would have evolved. There was some scrubby green ground cover, but it seemed to be more an adapted form of seaweed than grass. If the rains had been coming regularly every day for as long as Skyfire suspected, it might well be a sort of amphibious plant, surviving the dry spells by storing water during the rain. There were no land animals to graze on it, so it could afford a peaceful, lethargic cycle of growth and replenishment.

The seas were teeming with life. Skyfire had seen more variations on the basic concept of 'fish' than he could count, not to mention some of the weirder denizens of the depths. It was amazing, wonderful, exactly the sort of thing he lived for - seeing something new and fantastic, learning all he could about it.

It wasn't enough.

He'd wanted solitude. Well, he had it - he'd had a year of it. At first it had been everything he'd hoped. Although he'd made no progress in untangling his confused emotions, he'd been able to forget about them for a while. He'd been through three systems in the last year, cataloguing each planet, making copious notes both on its potential to aid the Autobot cause and its own unique personality. He'd taken enough samples to keep Perceptor happy for half a vorn. And the Aerialbots would just love some of the things he'd seen. Fireflight would have so many questions. Air Raid and Slingshot would want to hear more about that big, dusty planet where the winds were woven in intricate tapestries through canyons miles deep. Skydive would be intrigued by the world where the atmosphere rendered visibility almost to zero, but dramatically enhanced magnetic detection. Silverbolt…

He missed Silverbolt so much.

He'd thought that being alone would give him insight into his own spark, and in a way, maybe he'd been right. As he'd settled into his old routines - pursued his old dreams - he'd slowly become conscious of the emptiness where there had previously been love and laughter. Had he really not even noticed how many friends he had? Had he really treated them all as a burden to be shed?

Old habits, he thought sadly as he watched the rain. There were so many people we couldn't trust… so many people who seemed to care but were really trying to use us.

The old hurt flared up tiredly, but it was barely a flicker now. Us had been him and Starscream, once. To his surprise, he'd found it hard to conjure more than the occasional brief thought of Starscream, even though he'd been doing the work they'd once shared. His thoughts yearned ever more persistently towards Earth. Towards Silverbolt.

And there in the rain, all at once, he had the answer he'd been seeking. He wanted to go back. He couldn't be pinned in one place - no, he could never live like that - but he had nothing to run from anymore. He missed Silverbolt like a part of his circuitry that had been removed. He wanted exactly what he had so carelessly cast aside.

He was almost sure he had left it far too late.

Skyfire watched the rain. He supposed he could stay out here. He had enough sources of energy to sustain himself. He could just… keep going. He didn't know if he could face returning only to see the ruins of everything he'd left behind

But he hadn't said goodbye to Silverbolt. Not properly. He'd hidden behind cowardly words about the importance of the mission and the unexpected need to depart. He'd lied. He hadn't even spoken to him face to face.

Skyfire watched the rain. It was beautiful, and he wished Silverbolt were here to see it with him.

He didn't expect he could salvage things now. But he owed it to Silverbolt to face up to his folly.

He would go back.

*

Silverbolt looked at the hysterical heap of mechs, then at Hot Spot. Hot Spot held up his hands guiltily.

"Look, it wasn't my idea, okay?"

"But you let them do it."

"It didn't seem like a big deal! Spike said Daniel plays it with his friends all the time!"

"I suspect humans have fewer projections to get caught on each other," said Silverbolt wryly.

The large mat, painted with coloured dots, had become crumpled beneath the struggles of the combined Protectobot and Aerialbot mass. It was, Silverbolt understood, a silly party game enjoyed by humans. It was also apparently a hitherto undiscovered weapon of mass destruction. Or at least mass embarrassment. And he'd thought Wheeljack's switching exercises had been bad…

"I suppose we could pour soap over them or something, see if that loosens things up," Hot Spot suggested.

There was a muffled series of protests from the mat. Silverbolt was trying very hard not to laugh, mostly because he thought that once he'd started he might end up completely unable to stop.

"You've got your rotors in my afterburner," snarled Slingshot from somewhere inside the pile.

"And you like it," Blades shot back.

"Oh dear Primus, are you two flirting?" demanded Skydive.

"Frag off!"

"Shut it, jetboy!"

Hot Spot sniggered. Silverbolt shot him a look that he hoped communicated that they were not done talking about this, then moved over to examine the mat from another angle.

"Okay," he said briskly. "Groove, can you transform?"

"I might smack Air Raid in the nosecone if I do."

"He'll survive."

"Hey!"

Groove awkwardly shifted into his alt-mode, managing not to do Air Raid any damage. As Silverbolt had hoped, his relatively small, slender form was easy enough to pull out of the pile. Hot Spot got the idea and quickly dragged his teammate out of the way.

"Right." Silverbolt surveyed the rest of them. "Fireflight, you're next…"

It took almost an hour, and several false starts, but eventually they were all free. Silverbolt was actually quite proud of himself for figuring out the logistics of the disentanglement, but everyone else was too busy arguing about whose fault it was and complaining about their scrapes to compliment him. Oh well.

"I suppose if I ask who started it, you're all going to blame somebody else?"

Contrary to his expectations, everyone except Air Raid promptly pointed at Air Raid. Air Raid looked sheepish.

"I didn't realise it was so… involved."

"I think I bent an aileron," Slingshot muttered, craning over his shoulder.

"Get Blades to kiss it better," suggested Streetwise, who was nursing a bent bumper.

"You can shut up too," snarled Blades.

"O-kay," said Hot Spot cheerfully. "So now we've learned a Very Important Lesson about the suitability of human games to Cybertronians, who wants to go get something to eat?"

Silverbolt smiled. Hot Spot's way of dealing with things was different from his own, but they'd found that both seemed to work, especially when used interchangeably. Their gestalts had only become closer over time. And Silverbolt was very conscious of how good a friend Hot Spot was. He didn't know, sometimes, how he would have got through the last year without him.

They left the hangar in a loud gaggle, arguing and teasing each other. The ten of them made their slow way to the rec room, clogging up the corridors as they went, but no-one seemed to be coming the other way, so Silverbolt didn't worry about it too much. And he could trust at least, oh, six or seven of those present to get out of the way if required.

"How did they rope you into it?" he asked First Aid, who had fallen in beside him.

"It'll be fun!" First Aid replied in a passable imitation of Fireflight. "It won't take long! Please?"

"Ah. Yes. I see the problem."

"Actually," First Aid went on in a confessional tone, "it was fun. Until we got stuck." He paused. "Actually, it was even fun after that. Do you think Blades and Slingshot are really…?"

"I have no idea." Silverbolt regarded the two 'bots, who were walking ahead, arguing as usual. "But at least they're not killing each other."

"Indeed," said First Aid fervently. He had, after all, been the one having to patch Blades up most of the time.

The common room was moderately busy, but the Aerialbots' usual corner was free. Silverbolt took First Aid up on an offer to bring him energon, and headed for his favourite chair.

Bluestreak intercepted him. Silverbolt smiled enquiringly, an expression that faltered as he took in Bluestreak's faintly worried look.

"Hey," said Bluestreak. "You got a minute?"

"Of course," said Silverbolt. "What is it?"

"Nothing bad - probably. But I thought you should know…" Bluestreak cast a glance over at the other Aerialbots, still preoccupied with the energon dispensers. "Skyfire's back."

"What?" Silverbolt's spark lurched and ached in an all-too-familiar way. "Here?"

"No - he's at Moonbase 1. I was on duty with Blaster when the report came in. I… thought you'd want to know."

"Thank you," said Silverbolt numbly

Bluestreak let him go. He walked over to one of the public access terminals and quickly logged into his personal files. He checked his inbox for new messages. Nothing.

For a moment he considered going back to his quarters and calling Skyfire. The restrictions on comms to the moonbases had been lifted months ago. He could comm Skyfire right now, could hear his voice and--

No. Silverbolt logged out and took a moment to steady himself. Then he walked calmly back to their corner, and took his seat just as First Aid arrived to hand him some energon.

No. He wasn't going to drop everything and run to contact Skyfire. If Skyfire wanted to talk to him… well, he'd see. But it had to be him who made the first move.

*

The base - or rather, Moonbase 1, as it was now officially known - was so different Skyfire barely recognised it. The rough rock corridors and cramped rooms had been replaced by metal-panelled hallways and facilities that were, if not luxurious, at least on the level Skyfire would expect from an outpost or research station. The faces had changed as well. Optimus Prime had taken command, leaving Autobot City in the capable hands of Ultra Magnus. Many of those present were his oldest allies - Ironhide, Ratchet, Prowl, Jazz, and Bumblebee among them. Even Spike Witwicky was taking a turn on moonbase duty, kitted out in the exo-suit Wheeljack had designed to allow him to keep up with his larger friends.

Skyfire had half expected a cool welcome. His own overwhelming sense of guilt had seemed all-encompassing. But Jazz had practically tackled him, Fireflight-style, when he'd landed, and dragged him into the common room - where, to Skyfire's surprise, the rest of the crew quickly appeared, apparently of their own accord. No-one said a word about his leaving, only that they were glad he was back. Ratchet told him to expect a full check up before he was cleared for regular duty, but clapped him on the arm as he said it. Bumblebee was curious about the worlds he'd visited, Hound wanted to know if he'd found any interesting life forms, Sunstreaker wanted to know if he'd been attacked by any interesting life forms, and Prowl immediately asked his opinion on an asteroid mining project that had been proposed for the first of the systems they would reach - though he subsided when Jazz told him to "let the mech catch his breath, for Primus' sake!"

Optimus Prime said, "I am glad to see you safe. Did you find what you were looking for?"

The question was asked without special inflection, but Skyfire read a second meaning in the words nonetheless. He didn't know if it was really there, but he was answering both questions when he said, "Yes."

It wasn't exactly coming home. Not to this base, orbiting the world that was slowly awakening beneath them but still so different from the one Skyfire had known - not to these people, with their own bonds of friendship to which Skyfire had come late. But his spirits lifted more than he had expected, just from talking to others and sharing what he'd seen.

They assigned him quarters. It was bliss to recharge in a proper berth after a year of finding the least uncomfortable patch of ground, or snoozing in high orbit. He had so much to go through with Prowl, they spent almost three shifts debriefing. And he was painfully aware that in that time, he neither tried to comm Earth, nor heard anything from Autobot City.

There were messages in his inbox - scores of them. Even though his friends had known he wouldn't see them until his return, many had kept writing. Fireflight had apparently got into the habit of sending him a weekly diary of his latest discoveries. Noticeably absent was any mention of Silverbolt. And Silverbolt himself had written nothing since that final message Skyfire had sent, telling him he was leaving when it was already too late to reply. Skyfire… hadn't really expected otherwise, but his spark ached anyway.

He read every one of Fireflight's excitable letters. Then he read through Perceptor's sporadic updates on his work, and Wheeljack's single message entitled "I know you won't read this for months but HOLY SLAG LOOK AT THIS EXPLOSION", complete with attached video file. He found himself laughing more than once, and every time it was followed by a sharp echo of regret and shame.

The comms were open now. He could call… any of them, if he wanted. There was no need to rely on letters any more. Skyfire even opened up the comm menu and scrolled through the contacts, before shutting it down again with a sinking feeling of guilt.

Days passed. Skyfire had so much to do - so many tests to run on his samples, so much to write up - but where before he had buried himself in work to avoid thinking, he no longer wanted to take that way out. He had to face up to his choices… he just couldn't quite find the courage to take the first step.

"How are things on Earth?" he finally asked Jazz.

"Peaceful," Jazz replied. He was looking out of the rec room window at Cybertron rising over the moon's close horizon. "The Decepticons've left it alone so long, Red Alert's almost actin' normal half the time. The 'bots back there've been workin' with the humans a lot, puttin' together new projects an' teachin' them some of our tech. They're lightyears ahead o' where they would'a been by now. Some o' the younger mechs—" Jazz hesitated for barely a fraction of second, almost unnoticeable. "The Protectobots've started workin' disaster relief. Three different countries've adopted them as citizens, an' First Aid's a card carryin' member o' somethin' called Medicins sans Frontieres, which seems t' involve walkin' into the middle of warzones an' tellin' em all to behave while he fixes people. Ratchet thinks he's as good with human medicine as Cybertronian repair now. Says a lot that he was willin' to leave Autobot City in First Aid's hands an' come here with us."

"Yes." Skyfire could hardly imagine Ratchet allowing someone else to take over his med bay - but the evidence was right over there in the corner, arguing with Ironhide about the best way to throw a wrench. "And - the others?"

Jazz looked at him. "The Aerialbots?"

Skyfire nodded, swallowing sudden nerves.

"They're doin' great," Jazz said. "Real pros. Fireflight's figured out the basics o' navigation, Air Raid's everyone's buddy, Skydive's been teachin' human pilots how to fly like Seekers, an' Slingshot's… actually not bad company these days. And Silverbolt - he's a hell of a leader. He an' Hot Spot do a lot o' travelling, diplomacy stuff - tryin' to get the heads o' the various countries to work together. Succeedin', too, lot o' the time."

It was almost painful hearing someone say Silverbolt's name after so long, but Skyfire was more aware of the rush of mixed emotion that swept over him in its wake. Of course Silverbolt was doing amazing things - he'd barely begun to explore his potential. Had Skyfire really expected him - or the others - to simply be sitting where he'd left them, unchanged? He was glad - and proud - to hear of Silverbolt's success - but it made him even more doubtful that he could make amends. Silverbolt had almost certainly moved on. There might not be room for Skyfire to return to his life - and he couldn't honestly decide if he had the right to try.

"You lookin' forward to goin' back?" Jazz asked him another time.

"I suppose so," Skyfire said. "Eventually. I'm needed here for now."

"You sure are," Jazz replied without hesitation. "Don't get me wrong, you comin' back when you did was a gift from Primus, with the second base so close to finishin'. I don't s'pose Prowl'll let you take off again for a while. But you'll get a chance to take some leave after that. You talked to anyone back there yet?"

"Perceptor called the other day," Skyfire said. "We've been catching up."

"Lot o' science to get through, huh?"

"Yes."

It had been a careful conversation. It had been good to talk to Perceptor, but Skyfire had been constantly bracing himself for accusation, unspoken or otherwise. Perceptor, of course, had chattered easily about his projects, asked after Skyfire's discoveries, and said not a word about Silverbolt, or Skyfire's precipitous departure. Skyfire almost wished he had. He was starting to feel he didn't deserve so much kindness from those he'd left behind.

It was that thought - and a kind of masochism that went with it - that drew him back to his quarters and his terminal. He started reading the messages Silverbolt had sent him before he'd left - messages he'd read hurriedly before, and scarcely ever replied to. It seemed crazy now. He found himself wanting to ask a dozen questions for every one of them. How had Skydive's proposed air gala turned out? Had Air Raid ever succeeded in building that giant card house in the hangar? What was it about Slingshot that Silverbolt wanted to talk about but felt he couldn't put into a letter? Had Fireflight really spent three days in Australia with Perceptor and not been lost once? What was Silverbolt's new office like, the one that finally let him get on with his paperwork without distraction from his brothers?

Was Silverbolt happy, in the bright new city with so much freedom at last?

Skyfire rested his head on one hand, reading and re-reading the words long into when he should have been recharging. He could imagine them in Silverbolt's beautiful voice, could picture the expressions and gestures that would have gone with them. The clammy weight of fear and confusion that had made it seem impossible to reply before was gone. He would have given anything, just then, to reach back in time and give his past self a good, hard shake.

Maybe that was what finally pushed him into action. He called up the comm menu and hesitated for only a moment as he calculated the time difference between Cybertron and Earth. It would be mid-afternoon in Autobot City. Perceptor had told him that the shift pattern had relaxed to match Earth's days. Silverbolt would at least be awake, although Skyfire had no guarantee he would be in the city. That was almost enough to talk himself out of it, but he forced himself to key in the request for a personal channel. His hand shook and nervous agitation gripped his spark. The long-range comm system was set up to direct calls to wherever their recipient had logged in last. If Silverbolt wasn't there, it would go to a recorded greeting… and maybe it was Skyfire's turn to leave the messages.

The connection took long enough that he slowly began to relax. He had just decided that he wasn't going to get an answer - and started trying to think what he would say to the answering machine - when the screen lit up with the soft golden sunlight of Earth. It lay in wide squares across the back wall of an office, indicative of large windows somewhere out of shot. But Skyfire barely registered the room, all his attention seized and held by the sight of Silverbolt looking back at him. All at once his courage failed him and he didn't know what to say.

Maybe Silverbolt didn't either. There was an uncomfortably long pause before he finally said, "Hello. It's good to see you again."

His voice was too calm, too controlled. His expression was neutral and distant. Skyfire recognised the signs that he was off-balance and trying to hide it. His spark ached.

"I… wanted to let you know that I'm back."

"I heard." Silverbolt glanced down at his desk as if checking something on one of his datapads, though Skyfire guessed it was simply an excuse to look away. "How was your trip? Did you find anything interesting?"

Skyfire almost choked on the rush of words welling up in his vocaliser then, all the things he'd wanted to tell Silverbolt and show Silverbolt and explain to Silverbolt while he'd been away - configurations of suns and vagaries of metamorphic rock and the glittering rainfall of the ocean planet - but he managed to contain the flood.

"So many things," was all he said for now. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"And the others?"

"They're fine too."

Skyfire cringed at the succinct answers. He cast around desperately for something else to say that might get more of a response from Silverbolt.

"I gather Fireflight's been busy," he said. "Judging by my inbox. Did he really come back from Borneo with a reticulated python?"

"Oh yes. It's living in a tank in our common room and Slingshot keeps threatening to feed Daniel to it." Silverbolt's expression softened fractionally. "I didn't realise Fireflight had kept writing all this time."

"I thought I'd comm him instead of writing back," Skyfire said. It was almost but not quite a request for permission. "It's probably easier to catch up that way."

"He'd like that," said Silverbolt. He hesitated, more of the distance easing out of his face. "It's… really good to talk to you again."

"You too," Skyfire replied softly. "I… I've missed you. And I--" There was so much to say, so much to apologise for, but he started small. "-- I'm sorry I left so suddenly. I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, but… well… I shouldn't have done it that way, and I'm sorry."

"Oh."

It seemed as though that was the last thing Silverbolt had expected. His optics met Skyfire's, and for a split second there was something in his face that made Skyfire's spark jump hard and hopeful. Then he looked away, in the direction of the unseen window, gazing into the distance for a few moments before he looked back at the screen.

"Will you be… leaving again?"

"No. Prowl's given me a list three orbits long of work I can do here, and after that I-- I thought I'd come back to Earth."

Skyfire felt a sharp ache of regret and longing at the startled look that came over Silverbolt's face then - chased by the faintest hint, for the first time, of a hesitant smile.

"Really? You're definitely-- you're coming back?"

"As soon as I can," Skyfire said. He hadn't known it was true until now. "I'd like… I'm looking forward to seeing how the city's come along."

"You won't believe it." Silverbolt was talking more normally now - maybe a little faster than usual - and his optics were warmer and his face more animated. "It's almost finished - the last thing to do is wire Metroplex into his autonomous systems and finish diverting the water into the moat - and you should see the mess hall and the rec rooms - it's amazing. There's so much space! It's like having a real home at last."

"I can't wait to see it," Skyfire said. "How's your office?"

Silverbolt did smile then, beautiful and brilliant and with the accompanying flash of amusement in his optics. "Perfect. It has a lock on the door."

Skyfire laughed. And all at once, talking was easy again - as easy as it had always been with Silverbolt. He was aware it was growing ever later, that he should get some recharge - but he couldn't tear himself away from the terminal. Not when, with every word, every smile, every second of Silverbolt's presence, the heavy ache in his spark was slowly easing.

*

Silverbolt was relieved that there was no call for Superion's presence in the near future. He didn't think he could have hid his distraction from his brothers in the midst of the full gestalt link. He wasn't entirely sure he was hiding it regardless, but in the end it was Hot Spot who caught on first.

"What's up?" They were walking along the southern wall; Hot Spot had said something about wanting to take a break from the crowded rec room and look out over the city, and Silverbolt had gone along without realising it was a ploy to get him alone. "You're almost as scatty as Fireflight this week."

"I am not," Silverbolt protested, even as he guiltily reviewed the last few days. "I've just had a lot on my mind."

"Uh huh." Hot Spot stopped to lean against the wall, arms folded and expression sceptical. "I know what you're like with 'a lot on your mind', and this isn't it. What's going on?"

"Nothing," said Silverbolt. Hot Spot contrived to look even more incredulous. "No, really, I just…"

He trailed off. He hadn't wanted to say anything - to anyone - but particularly to his brothers - that might raise false hopes. Including his own. But if Hot Spot was concerned enough to ask him outright, Silverbolt owed him an explanation.

"I've… been talking to Skyfire." Silverbolt hoped his face didn't give away the roller coaster of emotion that filled him when he thought about it. "He's going to come back."

"Is he?" Hot Spot's voice was flat. "How nice for him."

Silverbolt shot him a sharp look. Hot Spot frowned right back at him.

"I really hope you're not thinking everything's gonna be magically fixed just because you waited patiently while he fragged off to Primus-knows where--"

"Of course not," Silverbolt snapped. Then he sighed, because he had to admit, there was a small part of him that wished things could be that simple. "I'm not… expecting everything to just go back to how it was. I don't even know if that's what I want. But… something's changed. He's commed me every day this week. He just… he sounds different. Looks different. I think maybe we'll be able to talk, now - figure things out."

"And what if he gets back here, goes all cabin fever again, and takes off for another few years without saying goodbye?"

"I don't think he will," said Silverbolt. "I think--"

"You think, or you wish?"

Silverbolt turned away, taking a couple of steps along the wall and leaning his elbows on it to give himself space, both figuratively and literally. Hot Spot was right to be sceptical, he knew that. He ought to be just as cautious. It was just… he couldn't seem to squash the hope that had dawned in his spark when Skyfire confessed so frankly that he'd been wrong. It had meant everything, in a way Silverbolt couldn't begin to explain to anybody else. Even Hot Spot.

"I'm not going to rush into anything," Silverbolt said. "We're just talking."

"Yeah, that's the part that worries me," said Hot Spot with a sigh. "You're 'just talking' and it's enough to make you completely miss Slingshot and Air Raid hacking Skydive's datapad to play 'Wind Beneath My Wings' on a loop--"

"They what? When did they--"

"I don't want you to get hurt again," said Hot Spot quietly.

There was nothing Silverbolt could say to that. Hot Spot had been there for him when things were at their worst. He'd been understanding, patient, and caring. They'd even talked about becoming interface partners, but neither of them quite wanted that sort of relationship. And Silverbolt had been relieved, because he hadn't felt anything like what he felt for Skyfire with Hot Spot, and he didn't think he could have pretended otherwise. Or that it would have been right to. What they had with each other was something like Silverbolt imagined it would feel to have a brother who wasn't under his command. And no-one understood the trials and tribulations of the gestalt bond as well as they did. He would gladly call Hot Spot his best friend, after his brothers - and Hot Spot was looking out for him the same way Silverbolt would look out for one of his team.

"I can't promise not to hope," Silverbolt said at last. "I can't help it. But I'm not going to do anything stupid. Okay? I'll wait and see what happens when he does come back - and if things really are different."

"Okay." Hot Spot didn't look convinced, but he was willing to let it go, and that was enough for now. "C'mon then. Let's go rescue Skydive from the tyranny of nauseating 80s pop ballads."

Chapter Text

"So, what do you think?" asked Perceptor, smiling.

"What do I--? This is amazing!" Skyfire had the blueprints open on the datapad in his hand while most of his monitor screen was taken up with the comm link. "How on earth did you manage to compensate for the systemic feedback?"

He was barely conscious that he'd used such a human euphemism until Perceptor spoke again.

"Earth was rather the key factor. Chip suggested making more use of hydroelectric power, now the river is flowing freely, and when I realised that it could serve as a parallel conductor and take the load off the core conduits…"

"It's sheer genius!" There was nothing feigned in his praise as he scrolled eagerly through the pages of Perceptor's detailed proposal. "I never would have thought of this."

"I doubt that," said Perceptor modestly. "But I'm going to need your help with the refinements. The intersection of the primary resource dump with the secondary fill is giving me problems."

Skyfire paged back to the relevant section, nodding absently. "It's probably going to require some reworking of the energon refinement system to increase the efficiency."

"Since you built it, you would be the authority on that front."

"Since I--?" Skyfire tore his attention away from the datapad to stare blankly at Perceptor. Then comprehension dawned. "You're not telling me you're still using that siphon I jury-rigged? That was only supposed to be a temporary measure!"

"It works extremely well," replied Perceptor. "There's been no reason to tamper with it until now." He smiled. "Not to mention I think I might have faced a scrap mob if I'd done anything to disrupt the energon refinement. We have quickly become accustomed to better fare, it seems."

"I…" Skyfire was at a loss for what to say. The siphon had just been an idle project of his, driven more than anything else by a desire to show Silverbolt and his brothers what real food was supposed to be like. "I'm… glad it's been so useful. If I'd known, I'd have designed it to be easier to extend."

If I'd stayed, he thought with a now-familiar spasm of guilt, I'd have known, and I could have been working on it all this time…

"I was hoping you could give me some pointers on where to start expanding it for now," Perceptor said.

"Yes, of course." Skyfire paged through the report again, double-checking measurements. "It should be straightforward to change the conduits on the south side over to the parallel load system… then, when I come back to Earth, we can--"

"You're coming back?"

The question was quiet and completely non-accusatory, but the almost wistful tone of it stopped Skyfire in his tracks. Perceptor had known him for a very long time. Maybe Skyfire should have tried talking to him back when he'd been finding it so hard to make sense of his own thoughts.

"Yes," he said.

"Good," said Perceptor. "I… confess I was a little afraid you would not."

Skyfire stared down at the datapad, not really seeing it.

"Regardless," Perceptor went on briskly, "it will certainly go much faster if you can assist me directly. And maybe you can talk Beachcomber out of this plan he has to breed alligators in the moat…"

"Alligators? Aren't they - rather dangerous to humans?"

"Yes, but he likes them for some reason."

"I can't imagine Ultra Magnus agreeing to that."

"Beachcomber is selling it as extra security. He even has Red Alert convinced. I've been trying to steer him towards giant turtles, or perhaps otters, but he's got his spark set on what he calls his 'scaly armada' and of course Sideswipe is encouraging him…"

"I'll do my best," promised Skyfire, "but I don't know if he'll listen to me any more than you."

"I was hoping you might be able to think of an alternative that would appeal to him."

"I'll see what I can come up with."

"Thank you." Perceptor seemed to look past the camera at something - or maybe his sharp optics were focused on his thoughts. "Skyfire?"

"Yes?"

"I think… you should come sooner, rather than later."

Skyfire tensed. "Why?"

"I don't know that I could say." Perceptor looked back at him, a shadow of uneasiness in his expression. "It's just that recently I have started to feel as if… something is coming. This lull has been wonderful but it cannot last forever. Megatron is bound to move against us sooner or later. And… I am starting to believe it will be sooner. But I could not tell you why."

Skyfire had known Perceptor a long time. His name had always been apt: he had a knack for what humans would call intuition, subconsciously processing data and pulling together tiny fragments to create a bigger picture that he could not always put words around, but which was seldom wrong.

"I'll come as soon as I can," Skyfire said.

*

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Silverbolt reached out instinctively and laid his hand against the comm screen, which showed Skyfire's worried face. "It wasn't even a major engagement. We had plenty of warning and we pinned them down over Sumatra. I've got a few scorch marks, that's all. The Decepticons weren't as lucky."

"That's three attacks in three months," Skyfire said. He laid his own hand on the screen, mirroring Silverbolt's. A jolt of warmth and longing went through Silverbolt's spark at the gesture. "What are they trying to do?"

"Testing our defences, is the best guess," Silverbolt replied. "They know better than to come right at Autobot City now. I think they're probably learning that approaching Earth is, in general, a bad idea."

He smiled, but Skyfire didn't return it.

"Cybertron is waking up," he said quietly. "They've been recruiting - Elita-1's team reported in not long ago with new intel. I haven't been in the command meetings, but… I'm worried. Should I be?"

It was strange to hear Skyfire turning to him for reassurance, but Silverbolt was more than willing to give it.

"Not yet. We think Megatron is getting restless - he hates knowing we're here without opposition - and he might do something stupid like launch an all-out attack. But that would be to our advantage - he couldn't possibly win, and we'd stand a good chance of taking out some of his best troops."

Skyfire nodded, and Silverbolt was struck, as he had been several times in the months since Skyfire had returned to Moonbase 1, by how their roles had subtly changed. He saw a vulnerability in Skyfire that hadn't been there before - except, no, he was starting to realise that it had always been there - it had just been well-hidden. For most of their relationship, Silverbolt had turned to Skyfire for comfort and advice. It was only now that Skyfire was coming to him for the same, that Silverbolt realised how unbalanced that dynamic had left them.

"How are you doing?" he asked. "How is Moonbase 2 coming along?"

He had the most recent reports right in front of him - he knew that Moonbase 2 was officially complete. But hearing it from Skyfire was a thousand times better than reading a dry report from Prowl. His optics lit up and he spoke with genuine enthusiasm about the challenges they'd overcome to secure the second base. Silverbolt would gladly listen to him for hours.

He already had, over the last few months. Their comm conversations had only grown longer recently. Sometimes it physically hurt him to cut the connection.

"Skyfire?" Silverbolt hadn't meant to interrupt but he suddenly couldn't help himself. "Do you know… when the next shift change is coming up?"

"Not for another couple of months," Skyfire replied. He hesitated, then went on, "But… I've heard that Optimus has decided one more big energon run will give us enough power to start making moves on Cybertron."

"Yes, that's right."

"I was wondering… well, I thought I might ask Optimus if I could fly them back to collect it. Instead of them using that clunky manual shuttle. Would you… what do you think?"

What Silverbolt thought was impossible to put into words. That he wanted to see Skyfire - more than anything - that he'd thought he'd have to wait longer than this, be more careful, more patient - that he hadn't expected Skyfire to be the one to suggest it - that his spark was singing because Skyfire had…

"That would be wonderful," Silverbolt said after a moment. "Do you think Optimus would let you?"

"I won't know until I ask."

"The run's scheduled for two weeks from now," Silverbolt went on, testing the idea out loud. He almost couldn't imagine seeing Skyfire so soon, after everything. "Do you… want me to let the others know you're coming back?"

"Wait until I've found out if it's possible first." Skyfire fidgeted with something on his desk. "Then… I guess you should tell them, yes."

Silverbolt wanted to reach through the screen and take his hand, calm the nervousness he could see in Skyfire's movements. He wanted to tell him that he had nothing to worry about… but that wasn't a promise Silverbolt could honestly make. Fireflight and Air Raid had reacted enthusiastically when Skyfire had contacted them directly, but there was a shadow of wariness in both of them. Skydive had been polite and interested, but no more. Slingshot, predictably, had ignored Skyfire's messages and scowled a lot, although he hadn't actually thrown anything. Silverbolt thought that might be a good sign. As was the way Hot Spot had gradually relaxed, except to tease Silverbolt about his comm use. But if Skyfire was expecting a mixed welcome… well, he wasn't wrong. And while Silverbolt wanted to reassure him, he felt a slight twinge of relief at Skyfire's obvious trepidation. It meant that Skyfire understood the consequences of his choices. Silverbolt hoped that was leading him towards making different ones in the future.

His spark jumped and shivered excitedly. He tried to quell it, smiling at Skyfire and getting another little jolt as Skyfire smiled back.

"Let me know when it's definite, and I'll tell them then. I'll speak to Metroplex about dusting out your quarters. Hoist and Grapple put together a fleet of cleaning bots and Metroplex has been getting the hang of using them."

Skyfire looked delighted. "Semi-autonomous drones? Like we used to have on Cybertron?"

"Apparently. Sideswipe, Streetwise, and Air Raid tried to hijack one to reprogram it. They all woke up in the middle of the night with dozens of red indicator lights glaring at them from the darkness. They haven't touched one since."

Skyfire laughed. "What is Metroplex like? I haven't lived in an installation with a central guardian spark for a long time. Sometimes it could be a little uncomfortable, if the warden was particularly, ah… strict."

"He does have a sense of humour, though you can't tell when you're talking to him." Silverbolt had more occasion than most to speak directly to Metroplex, as he often needed to rearrange flight paths and patrol routes. "It comes out in subtle ways. He seems to like having the drones to use as his avatars. And he absolutely adores Red Alert, treats him like a… a younger brother, I suppose. They understand each other very well. Inferno says Red Alert even takes some time off now he knows Metroplex is there to keep an optic on things."

"Really? That's hard to imagine."

"I know - but even with the Decepticon attacks, he's more relaxed these days. The whole city is."

Skyfire looked wistful. "That's… hard to imagine too."

"You'll see for yourself soon enough."

"Yes." Skyfire looked for a moment as though he wanted to say something else, but seemed to change his mind. "I'm looking forward to it."

He sounded like he meant it. Whatever he'd been hesitating over, it wasn't that. Silverbolt in turn was almost overcome by the sudden urge to say - a lot of things, all of them too raw and urgent - but he muted his vocaliser and let the moment pass. There would be time after Skyfire had come back to Earth… time for everything to fall into place gradually rather than rushing ahead without thinking of the consequences. Silverbolt was determined to be sensible about this. Even if he was increasingly feeling less and less like being sensible, and more and more like emptying his spark to Skyfire as if nothing had changed.

"I'd better go, it's late," he said after a moment. "Talk to you tomorrow?"

Skyfire nodded.

"Goodnight," he said softly, and Silverbolt didn't think he was imagining the faint yearning note behind the word.

"Goodnight," Silverbolt replied.

*

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Optimus Prime said as soon as Skyfire brought up the possibility of flying the energon run. "I shall speak to Prowl about altering the roster."

Skyfire stared at him, momentarily unable to process the response. He hadn't expected immediate approval.

"You're long overdue some downtime on Earth," Optimus carried on. "And I think it would be prudent to have your weaponry on hand for this run. We are starting to get the impression that Megatron is losing patience with our presence here. We don't expect an attack on this occasion, or I'd send you with backup, but it is as well to start increasing our security before he makes a move."

"Will my restrictions on cargo space be acceptable?" Skyfire asked, finding himself oddly compelled to point out the very counter-arguments he had been prepared to face. "I won't be able to bring back as much energon as the piloted shuttle…"

"I was planning to have Omega Supreme fly back with the shuttle anyway. We'll need more space-capable Autobots out here in the next few years. Between you, you can easily bring the full complement of energon we require."

"I…" Skyfire realised he was on the verge of coming out with more objections. He shook himself. "Thank you. How long will we be on Earth?"

"It usually takes two days or so to get everything loaded," Optimus replied. "But I'm sending Ironhide, Ratchet, and Prowl, and they are all due some shore leave as well, so I expect you to stay five days or so. Maybe a week. We are well on schedule and can afford to take advantage of this lull while it lasts."

A week was more than Skyfire had dared hope for. His spark pulsed with nervousness and anticipation. Maybe he and Silverbolt would have time to really talk… not that they had lacked for conversation over the last few weeks. Skyfire was spending almost as much time on the comms as in his berth. But there was a certain carefulness to everything they said… an unspoken agreement to feel their way through this re-establishment of trust. Skyfire hoped that maybe, when they saw each other face to face, he might be able to say some of the things he knew he still owed Silverbolt.

"There is one other matter on which I would appreciate your input," Optimus said after a moment, an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice.

"Yes?"

Optimus reached over to a pile of datapads on his desk and selected one. He passed it to Skyfire.

"You've been in the regular briefs. You're aware of the latest updates on Decepticon activity in Kaon?"

"Yes." Skyfire had an idea of where this was going now. He didn't dread it as much as he'd expected. "You're wondering where Starscream is?"

"We know where he is. We just don't know why he's there. Take a look at those reports."

Skyfire activated the datapad and quickly paged through the reports. He'd been under the impression that Starscream was off-planet, but it seemed Jazz's intel had pinned him down in Kalis - and he hadn't stirred for months.

"He has been requisitioning large amounts of supplies and equipment," Optimus went on. "Elita-1's team has compiled several lists. What we cannot establish is what exactly it is he's doing."

Skyfire went through the lists, frowning. There did not, indeed, seem to be any pattern to the orders. He couldn't think of one project or device that Starscream might be working on that would require such disparate components. One part of the list did jump out at him.

"These look like the parts for basic shields and thermoregulators that could be installed in root mode. They would give the rank and file Decepticons the ability to withstand conditions they might otherwise find unworkable - like Mercury, or space itself."

"Wheeljack noticed the same thing. Is there anything else that strikes you as significant?"

"Only that a lot of these components are for large scale industrial installations, which isn't at all the sort of thing Starscream usually--"

Skyfire stopped. He looked again at the list.

"Long ago," he said slowly, "Kalis was responsible for tending one of the primary fusion reactors built into Cybertron's core."

"The reactors that powered the planetary engines?" asked Optimus.

"Yes. I suppose you know that the engines were set on a low power drift with random course changes before the start of recorded history and we never succeeded in restarting them, which is why Cybertron has pursued such a meandering course over time--"

"I know."

"But the fusion reactors remained active for a long time. They produced much of the planet's power - before the accident in Vos."

"The explosion that tore open what is now the Rust Pit." Optimus nodded. "And it was decided to decommission the reactors and rely upon other sources of fuel - a decision which the Decepticons have always touted as the start of Cybertron's decline."

"Are they wrong?" Skyfire asked quietly. "The reactor explosion was almost certainly sabotage. It had no bearing on the safety of the other installations. And when the next course change kicked in and Cybertron left behind the star that had been its primary power source, there was nothing to fill in the gap until we reached a new system."

"Perhaps they are not wrong," Optimus said with a sigh. "That choice was made before my time. I cannot say I would have done the same, but I cannot know what pressures were on those who did. They did not carry the Matrix, so I cannot hear their voices." He shook his head, focusing again on Skyfire. "Are you suggesting that Starscream is trying to reactivate one of the fusion reactors?"

"That would be my best guess."

"I wonder…" Optimus stared across the room, a troubled expression coming to his optics. "Could they even be working to restart the engines to control Cybertron's path? If they could move the planet at will, we would have to expend an enormous number of resources just on keeping track of the flight paths between here and Earth…"

"It was generally considered impossible to do in my time," Skyfire replied. He grimaced. "Which would… not exactly put Starscream off."

"Indeed. I'd say it would encourage him." Optimus reached out to take back the datapad. "Thank you, Skyfire. We'll need to consider this as a possible future threat."

After he'd left the office, Skyfire headed for the rec room to refuel. He sipped his energon standing by the window, watching Cybertron rise over the horizon. Talking about Starscream had left him… unexpectedly unmoved. The possibility of repairing one of the planet's fusion reactors was intriguing, and the idea that they might one day regain control over Cybertron itself tantalising… but Skyfire found he was less interested in speculating on Starscream's intentions than he was in thinking about Earth. A whole week… he'd thought a day or so would be the most he could hope for.

A whole week with Silverbolt. His spark ached pleasantly at the thought. He drank his energon - and he supposed he could take some pride in the fact that it tasted almost decent these days - and watched the lights of Cybertron. In his mind's eye, he replaced them with the continents of Earth - and felt a twinge of something that he identified, to his surprise, as homesickness.

Well, he would be there soon. And as soon as it was evening on Earth, he could comm Silverbolt and tell him the news.

*

Silverbolt wasn't expecting any of his brothers to be awake when he got back to their quarters - with the exception of Skydive, who seemed to need less recharge than everyone else. But he'd thought Skydive would be in his room with yet another datareel, not sitting on the couch in the common area. He set aside his datapad as Silverbolt entered; it was clear he'd been waiting up.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Silverbolt hesitated just inside the doorway. "Everything okay?"

"Probably." Skydive looked at him thoughtfully. "You're out late a lot recently."

"And?"

"And I guess late night here would be pre-shift on Moonbase time?"

There was no point denying it. "That's right."

There was a pause.

"So?" asked Skydive.

"What do you mean, 'so'?"

Skydive sighed in exasperation, as though he were trying to explain the details of a particularly complex manoeuvre to Air Raid.

"So are you getting back together, or what?"

The blunt question threw Silverbolt off balance.

"What?"

"I assume that wasn't you choosing the second option." Skydive smirked faintly. "Come on, Silverbolt, do you think we're stupid? You're on the comms for half your downtime. And Skyfire's been falling over himself to be friends with us again. It's not a difficult equation. I just want to know what's up."

He sounded casual enough, but there was a faint thread of concern behind it, tugging through the gestalt bond. Partially concern for Silverbolt, like Hot Spot, but the rest was Skydive's own wariness, the sting of previous abandonment.

"I… don't know." Silverbolt came to sit on the couch next to Skydive. He'd been expecting to have this conversation with one or more of his brothers eventually; he just hadn't expected it to come from Skydive. He'd been anticipating an ambush from Air Raid any day now… "I'd like-- I hope there might be-- that we might have the chance to--" He floundered. "I don't want to rush anything," he finished lamely.

"Have you ever rushed anything?" Skydive enquired. Some of the concern had eased. "Maybe you should give it a try."

Silverbolt shot him a surprised look. Skydive shrugged.

"Just saying."

"I don't know exactly where this is going," Silverbolt said at last. "I… know what I hope - but I'm not going to make any assumptions. We have a lot of things to talk about and I don't want to jump the gun before that happens."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," Skydive repeated mildly. He smiled at Silverbolt's bewildered expression. "I trust your judgement. And… I'm really glad things are going well. We've all missed Skyfire. Do you think he's going to come back to Earth any time soon?"

"Actually… he's going to fly the next energon run. So he'll be here in a week, even if it's only a brief visit."

"Really?" Skydive lost some of his reserve and looked more pleased than Silverbolt had expected. "That's great. Have you told the others?"

"I only just found out for certain myself."

"They'll be happy. Even Slingshot will, if you give him a chance." Skydive's expression became more serious. "But… it's going to be kind of weird to start with, I think."

"I know. So does Skyfire. I think it'll be okay."

"Good." Skydive swung a foot up over Silverbolt's lap, effectively pinning him to the couch. "Hey, guess what I found in Teletraan-2?"

"I was going to recharge," Silverbolt protested.

Skydive grabbed his datapad and keyed it on with a remorseless smirk. "But you promised you'd go over these with me… and you've been on the comms every downtime this week…"

Silverbolt groaned but made no effort to escape.

"Fine, but no more than an hour, then I really must get to my berth." A horrible thought struck him. "Wait, it isn't another of those awful technical reports on the old airspace over Cybertron, is it?"

"… Not if you squint at it just right?"

"Oh, Primus."

*

The day of the energon run, Skyfire found it impossible to concentrate on anything. He'd checked and double-checked his fuel levels, his flight path, and his weapons systems. He'd gone over the logistics of the route and the return with Prowl. He'd accepted, with some trepidation, a mysterious package from Sunstreaker to deliver to Sideswipe. And he still had six hours to go before setting off, and he couldn't get his processor to focus on even the simplest calculations.

It was actually a relief when his comms pinged and Optimus asked him to report to the central command room.

That relief morphed swiftly into concern when Skyfire arrived to find Optimus, Prowl, and Jazz clustered around the main screen, conversing quickly and seriously, and Ironhide running through prep for the manual shuttle on one of the other consoles.

"What's going on?"

"We aren't sure." Optimus beckoned him over to the screen and brought up a series of graphs that Skyfire recognised as energy output, possibly from a small star. "Elita-1 contacted us urgently a couple of hours ago. These readings are from the fusion generator under Kalis."

"What?" Skyfire reached for the console, pushing aside Optimus's hands as he scrambled to bring up more data. Optimus moved aside without comment. "That's - either it's about to explode or it's gearing up to run at full capacity!"

"The data is several hours old," Prowl said. "It hasn't exploded yet."

"Then it probably isn't going to." Skyfire was working fast on the console, overlaying graphs and comparing the numbers they represented. "It's been increasing its output steadily for days by the look of it. It must have just reached critical density." He stared at the screen, torn between dread and awe. "He did it. He brought it back online."

"And the planetary engines?" Optimus asked quietly. "Can the Decepticons move Cybertron?"

"I can't tell. I'd need to get close to Kalis and monitor the readings myself."

Optimus sighed. "I was afraid you might. Skyfire, I am truly sorry, but I have to ask you to take on this mission as a matter of urgency. And we dare not delay the energon run, especially if the Decepticons have gained access to this resource. We will have to use the manual shuttle while you investigate Kalis."

It took a moment for the full implications of that sentence to sink in. Then Skyfire understood: he wouldn't be going to Earth after all. He wasn't going to see Silverbolt. After all this, after everything… the disappointment and grief that struck him were so fierce he couldn't speak for a few moments.

"I understand," he said at last. And he did: he knew Optimus was right. They couldn't ignore this development, and they couldn't delay the energon run. There was no help for it. "I'll set out at once. I… just need to use the comms before I go."

"Of course," said Optimus. "And you will be able to return to Earth on another occasion--"

"I know." Skyfire pulled a datapad from subspace and quickly downloaded the data on the fusion reactor from the main console. "Prowl, do you need any data from me on the flight plan?"

"No, I have it in the system already." Prowl gestured to Ironhide's console. "You are free to go. And… I am sorry not to be flying with you on this occasion."

It was an uncharacteristic expression of sympathy that went some way toward easing Skyfire's unhappiness. Jazz clapped him on the arm briefly, and then Skyfire hurried out of the control room.

A part of his processor was already busy calculating his route to Kalis, the likely defences, and the readings he would need to take. Another was listing the implications of the fusion reactor running at full capacity. And yet another was wondering what he would tell Silverbolt, as he sped back to his quarters and called up the comm system.

Silverbolt should be in the city, but Skyfire couldn't get through to him. After a moment, he tried Air Raid, and then Fireflight. Neither of them were answering either. He tried Skydive and even Slingshot, but got the same result. Primus damn it all… he didn't have time to try and track them down. He tried Silverbolt's line again, and this time waited out the connection attempts until it went to the messaging service.

"Silverbolt, I'm sorry, I won't be coming on the energon run after all…" he began.

Even leaving the recorded message didn't feel like enough. He felt like he was betraying everything that had been rebuilt between them, leaving again without warning, failing to return to Earth…

This is different, he told himself desperately as he left his quarters and headed for the launching bay. This isn't a choice. It really has to be done. Silverbolt will understand that.

They were prepping the manual shuttle for launch as he arrived. Skyfire cast it one look of dislike - irrational to direct such emotion at an inanimate vehicle, but he couldn't help himself - and transformed into his own alt-mode. Ratchet nodded to him from the shuttle's ramp. Skyfire paused for just a moment to watch the shuttle crew at work and wish with all his spark that he were going with them.

Then he launched himself out of the bay and turned towards Cybertron.

Chapter Text

"Commence countdown."

"Five… four… three…"

"All we need now is a little energon, and a lot of luck."

"… two… one…"

*

The eastern suburbs of this sprawling human city were the least damaged after the earthquake, which was why Hot Spot had decided to set up their main field hospital there. Silverbolt found First Aid in the middle of camp. He didn't seem to be treating anybody at the moment, but he didn't get up when Silverbolt waved from the perimeter. As Silverbolt came in closer, he saw why: it looked as though every child in the camp had clustered around him for comfort, protection, or reassurance. Some of them were asleep. First Aid was talking quietly to the older ones. Silverbolt caught enough of it to recognise the basics of human medical care - First Aid was telling them how to help their families in the weeks to come.

"Is Hot Spot still out at the power plant?" Silverbolt asked when he was close enough to speak without raising his voice. He didn't particularly want to wake the sleeping children either. "I tried to check in, but he isn't responding."

"There was another explosion," First Aid replied. "Blades commed Groove and me just after, but I expect they're too busy to answer right now."

Silverbolt grimaced. They'd hoped to contain the fire at the power plant before it reached any of the other tanks. At least they could be sure that there were no humans at risk there. He'd ferried most of them away himself.

"I'd better head over and check if they need back up. What about you? Is there anything you need?"

"We're okay for now. Air Raid dropped off more water an hour ago. We've got everything else."

"Good. Comm Air Raid if you need more - I've told him to prioritise deliveries over cleanup."

"Thank you."

The aid station was so calm and controlled that when Silverbolt got back into the air, the devastation below shocked him again. The earthquake had shattered concrete and tarmac as easily as glass, tearing the roads to jagged pieces and reducing tower blocks to rubble. Fires were still raging in many parts of the city; Hot Spot had been co-ordinating the human fire crews before the first explosion at the power plant. Groove was out there somewhere, running a search grid at a speed the humans couldn't match, and radioing in the locations of survivors he found. Silverbolt's brothers were taking turns in the air, providing valuable overhead co-ordination for the human rescue squads, and on the ground, helping move chunks of broken structures that would otherwise have required heavy lifting equipment that the humans simply couldn't get down the ruined roads.

Even ten of them didn't seem to be enough. Silverbolt had to make choices, again and again, about where he would send his brothers, which desperate situation would receive their help first. He knew Hot Spot was in the same situation - it must be killing him to have three-fifths of his team tied to the power plant instead of working in the city. But the plant fire had to be contained urgently, before the toxic fumes reached sufficient density to roll down over the city and start choking the humans still working - or trapped - there.

He came in from the windward side. That smoke was dense and unhealthy enough that he wouldn't fly through it if he could help it. He spotted Blades hovering over a smoldering wreck that had once been a building, spraying powder over the remaining flames. Heading in that direction quickly revealed Hot Spot and Streetwise working briskly on the other side, where the nearby structures seemed undamaged.

Silverbolt landed and hurried over.

"What's your status?"

"Stable," Hot Spot replied with reassuring promptness. "The second explosion wasn't as bad as we thought - the fire hasn't spread into the main complex. I think we'll be done here in an hour or so."

"Great. Can I do anything?"

"You could see if First Aid needs supplies--"

"Already did."

Hot Spot laughed tiredly. "Of course you did. Thanks. How's the rescue going?"

"Fireflight and Slingshot are working on the north side, and Air Raid's in the east. We think west is cleared. South…" Silverbolt grimaced. "The big fire in the slum district is contained but still going strong. We're having a hard time getting in there - it's too dangerous for the humans and too narrow and cramped for us."

"I'll send Groove over. And I'll go there next, maybe I can help with the firefighting at least…" Hot Spot glanced at the sky. "It's going to get dark again soon. How long have we been doing this now?"

"Twenty three hours," replied Silverbolt after a quick calculation. "Which reminds me, one of us ought to check in with Blaster--"

"Can you do it?" Hot Spot turned to wave Blades over to a new area. "I want to get this under control as soon as we can."

"Yes, of course. I'll head back to the city and relieve Skydive on the aerial overview." Silverbolt shot Hot Spot a smile he hoped wasn't too weary. "Take care of yourselves."

"You too."

He commed Autobot City as he glided away from the power plant, processor already half on where he'd need to send Skydive, and whether he'd be able to persuade Slingshot to take the break he'd refused some hours ago - or rather, he tried to comm Autobot City. He couldn't get through. Silverbolt gained a little height in case there was atmospheric interference, and tried again. He seemed to almost connect that time, but the link was staticky and strained.

:Skydive, have you heard anything from Autobot City recently?:

:No, nothing. Why?:

:I'm having trouble getting through. Can you hold your pattern for now while I go up higher? I should be able to get something on the satellite relays even if we're in a dead zone here.:

:Sure.:

Silverbolt pulled up as hard as he dared, climbing swiftly through the sky. There was no cloud cover, but the immense pall of smoke hanging over the city looked even darker from the air. He turned his attention away from the ground. He couldn't afford to panic now. The sky overhead was clear and just shading towards sunset. There were no stars out yet, but Silverbolt thought about Skyfire anyway. He'd hoped they'd be back in time to meet the energon run crew on landing - now it looked as though Skyfire would be there before they returned. In fact, he ought to have landed by now. If Silverbolt had known how extensive the disaster was when they'd first received the frantic call for help from this country's government, he would have left a message - but he'd thought they would be back within the day.

He climbed until the air was piercingly cold and thin, then tried the comms again. For long minutes, the connection strained and hesitated, trying to reach the central tower and, apparently, failing. Silverbolt felt the first stirrings of alarm. He switched from direct comms to a broad receiver frequency, hoping to pick up something on the link between Autobot City and the Moonbases--

Voices exploded into his processor. Silverbolt dipped and pitched in midair, startled by the noise - and were those explosions he heard in the background? People were trying to reach the Moonbases, but someone - Blaster? - was shouting something about jamming. Silverbolt thought he heard Perceptor, Red Alert, Kup, and others, but they were cutting in and out, overlapping. He caught a few words: -- under attack -- Devastator -- activating defences --

How could they be under attack? There was no way the Decepticons could get near Autobot City without triggering the Autobots' warning systems! Silverbolt tried desperately to contact the city again, but if they were being jammed, it was preventing him from getting through. He heard Megatron and felt a shudder of real fear. If Megatron was somehow here - leading an attack on Earth - if this was the retaliation they'd feared, coming with no warning despite all their precautions--

Silverbolt banked hard and began to lose altitude. He was about to open a comm channel to Hot Spot when he caught one more phrase - shuttle down, no survivors - and for a moment, his processor blanked.

No.

The rush of fear and horror was strong enough to reach his brothers. He felt their questioning tug on the gestalt bond, and Skydive was trying to comm him…

No. Please.

His altimeter was streaming meaningless numbers as he dived towards the devastated city. Silverbolt was flying automatically, barely conscious of moving his control surfaces or regulating his speed. Desperately, he tried Skyfire's comm.

Nothing. No connection at all, not even an attempt, as if Skyfire were off planet, or as if he were…

Please.

Skydive had switched to a more urgent call sign. The fire was still raging in the slum district. Silverbolt wanted to scream, wanted to turn and race across the skies towards Autobot City, wanted to open his comms to his brothers and beg them to reassure him.

He was never sure how he did it, but instead, he took all his fear and grief and shock, and bound it tightly in an icy calm that formed a frozen spot below his spark. He sent Skydive an acknowledgement, but it was Hot Spot he commed, on the highest priority they had.

:Autobot City is under attack.:

:What?! How can it be--:

:I don't know, but Megatron is there, the comms are jammed, and-- it sounds bad.: Silverbolt swung around over the city, spotting Skydive coming to meet him. He'd need to find the others fast. :There are-- it sounds like there significant casualties.:

:Primus! What do we do?: Hot Spot sounded closer to panic than Silverbolt had ever heard him. :My team can't fly - and we can't just leave these people to fend for themselves--:

:No, so you're staying here. I'm taking my team back at once to find out what's going on.:

:Right.: Hot Spot was back in control of himself. :We're done with the power plant. We can take over searching for survivors in the city. What about First Aid? If there are wounded--:

:I can't carry him, not at the speed we'll be going.:

:Okay. Go, then. We'll cover things here.:

With a blip of acknowledgement, Silverbolt closed the contact. Skydive had caught up, and he could see Air Raid in a clear patch of ground, staring up at them both. He took a moment to steady himself, then opened the comms to all four of his brothers.

:Autobot City is under attack. Get in the air and follow me.:

*

"Unicron, answer me! Do you see this? The Matrix! I now possess what you most fear. You will do my bidding!"

:You underestimate me, Galvatron.:

"What--?!"

:For a time I considered sparing your wretched little planet, Cybertron - but now, you shall witness its dismemberment.:

"NO!"

*

It took Skyfire hours to sneak around the planet to Kalis. He had to go in low - he'd be far too obvious if he stayed in orbit - and that meant dodging Decepticon patrols through the canyons of Cybertron. He was running silent, comms completely shut off. When he finally reached the city, he almost fell foul of a trio of Seekers swooping down from the north; he only escaped by pulling off a quick landing in the shadow of a tower block, then ducking inside.

He hated to be grounded, but there was no way he could stay in the air undetected for long enough to take the readings he needed. By a stroke of luck, the building he was in was well-placed to triangulate the energy output from the nearby reactor. Skyfire stationed himself in a room on the upper storey that had once been some sort of office, and unloaded his specialised sensor equipment from subspace.

Between losing himself in his work and the need to keep his sensors alert for Decepticons, Skyfire mostly managed to keep his processor away from the awareness that he should have been on Earth by now. Mostly. He wished desperately that he'd been able to speak to Silverbolt before he left. He hoped he'd be able to get through on the comms as soon as he returned.

The readings were complex and extensive. Gradually, Skyfire sorted through what he was seeing. The fusion reactor was slowly decreasing its output. However Starscream had restarted it, the process had not been permanent. It wouldn't be able to power the engine, which relieved them of one immediate threat. But Skyfire thought that the reactor, when it settled down, would be producing significantly more energy than before. It certainly wasn't unfeasible that Starscream was planning to keep boosting the output until it was stable enough to move the planet. And Skyfire was picking up certain signatures that he recognised - the thermal and electromagnetic shadows of large weaponry, the kind that would be used to repel orbital bombardment. He could think of only one likely target - or rather, two. He thought that the Moonbases were buried deep enough in Cybertron's moons to withstand such an assault for some time, but not indefinitely. If this was Megatron's next move against the Autobots, they would have to react fast. Maybe they could rig up a shield? The energy requirements would be high, but as long as they could keep bringing in energon from Earth…

Skyfire debated with himself. Should he try to get in closer, find out more about what Starscream was doing here? He remembered the ambush on Mercury vividly. But those guns were bigger than anything Elita-1 had reported. What else didn't they know? It had been difficult getting here, and if he didn't get away undetected, it would be even more difficult later. He was going to need to find out everything he could while he was here - and he knew that was why Optimus had sent him, not Jazz or Bumblebee. They might have better skills at infiltration, but Skyfire could piece together what he was seeing and react immediately. He thought he'd better start by trying to move over to that installation to the west, which looked like--

And then every siren, every klaxon, every call to alarm in Kalis went off at once.

Stunned by the cacophony, Skyfire's first thought was that he'd been spotted. He yanked his gun from subspace and spun around, scanning out of the windows for the threat. But what he saw were Seeker wings shooting into the sky, other aerial troops following them, every Decepticon with flight capability racing in the same direction.

Were the Autobots attacking? What could have prompted Optimus Prime to launch an all-out--

Cybertron shuddered.

The whole planet seemed to rock and strain. Skyfire staggered. Another tremor followed, worse than first. What was happening?

He grabbed his equipment and left the building at a run. Outside, he could see the Decepticons disappearing over the horizon. He transformed and shot skywards, careless now of his own safety. Several Seekers came within easy range, but they paid him no attention. Skyfire kicked his thrusters into full burn and rose above the curve of the planet, straining his sensors in the direction of their flight.

The monstrous figure hove slowly into view as he raced around Cybertron. Skyfire had never seen a Cybertronian so large - to the best of his knowledge until that moment, such a thing was impossible. But the impossible was right in front of his optics, and tearing at the planet with hands the size of cities. He opened an emergency comm to Moonbase 1 - and was met with only silence. A long range sensor sweep tried and failed to find the moon… either of the moons. They were just gone. The enormous mech hovering over the horizon roared wordlessly and tore into the planet once more, and with a dizzying horror, Skyfire realised what must have become of Cybertron's moons. And the Autobots stationed there? He tried every frequency he could find - tried to reach Optimus Prime, Jazz, Bumblebee - but there was no reply. Nothing. Except - one channel, barely used. He opened his comm.

:This is Elita-1. Skyfire, do you copy?:

:I copy! How-- the moonbases--:

:They're gone. There's no time. Shockwave is mustering the Decepticons to attack. We're doing what we can from down here but we need more air forces. Can you assist?:

:… assist the Decepticons?:

:It's the only chance we have!:

:I'm on my way.: Skyfire somehow found a little more speed. :What about Autobot City? Do they know? Are they sending backup?:

:There may not be anyone left to send,: Elita-1 said quietly. Just for a moment her authoritative voice wavered; there was fear beneath her words. :The city was attacked by Megatron and most of his core forces. The last we heard, there were many casualties. We don't know… how many survivors there are, or if they can help us.:

Ahead, the great figure was swiping at the Decepticons attacking it. They were making little impression on its plating. Skyfire noted it distantly, Elita-1's words echoing through his processor like a nightmare. Casualties. Survivors. Autobot City - Autobot City was supposed to be safe, supposed to be protected, supposed to be--

How many survivors were there? How many - and who?

:What is that thing?: Skyfire whispered, unable to think straight, grasping for some sort of sanity in the madness.

:The Decepticons are calling it Unicron. Apart from that… we don't know.:

Unicron. That was a name that stirred some faint, distant memory. He'd heard the name once, he was sure. It carried a weight of dread and shadow that he associated with myths and stories. Unicron. An old, evil legend. Something dismissed by most as a tale to scare newsparks…

There was no time to chase down the memory. Or to think for more than an agonising second about Autobot City. Skyfire was close now, close enough to see the Decepticons taking damage and their desperate attempts to rally. They needed support on one flank. He wondered if they would shoot at him if he tried to give it to them.

He'd have to take the risk. And some yawning, screaming part of his spark - a part that knew, without a shadow of doubt, that Silverbolt would not have permitted Decepticon incursion into Autobot space if he had been able to stop it - had he been functioning to stop it - almost welcomed the threat of annihilation.

He dived towards the exposed flank, and began firing every weapon he had at the creature called Unicron.

*
"Light our darkest hour!"

The Matrix opened.

*

The Aerialbots' quarters hadn't been too badly damaged. Silverbolt found himself feeling guilty over how grateful he was for that. It meant that they still had somewhere to go that was theirs.

They needed it. Shock and fear filled every corner of the city that had been their sanctuary. People alternated between feverish activity and helpless wandering through the wrecked halls. Silverbolt was trying to keep as many of them busy as he could. He and Hot Spot were almost the only 'bots with command rank left on Earth. The last anyone had seen of Ultra Magnus, he'd been trying to evade Decepticon forces as they pursued him and his squad off planet. Red Alert had been hurt badly enough in the attack that First Aid wasn't letting him out of med bay yet. And the others… Prowl, Ratchet, Ironhide, Optimus Prime…

Silverbolt had to turn his thoughts away every time they veered in that direction. He still couldn't believe it - came up against blank incomprehension every time he made to turn to one of them for instructions, and remembered they were gone.

And there was another source of terrible, secret guilt: the relief he'd felt when he'd found out it hadn't been Skyfire flying the energon run. The way he was clinging now to what Skyfire had said in his message: that he'd been sent away from the moonbases, that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't been there when they were… destroyed. Consumed.

No-one knew what was happening on Cybertron except that the unthinkable attack had been thwarted. Communications were almost non-existent. Too many relays and transmitters had been destroyed. Ultra Magnus had managed to send one high-powered, tight-beam message a few days ago: the being known as Unicron was destroyed. The surviving Decepticons had fled. Cybertron was under Autobot command. But there had been no details, no explanation - and no word on whether there were more casualties.

Silverbolt had set Blaster to doing what he could with the communications tower while he co-ordinated the other Autobots in what repair work they could manage. Hoist and Grapple could supervise the structural work, but Metroplex's transformation cog had been damaged in the initial attack, and there was no-one in the city now who could work with his systems. The enormous mech was frustrated and plagued with his own guilt that he had been unable to assist during the attack. Silverbolt had been spending much of the time when he should have been recharging keeping Metroplex company in the central control tower.

Right now, though, he knew he needed recharge - even though he dreaded the moment when he'd be alone in his berth with his thoughts. He crossed the common room tiredly. He also needed energon, but he couldn't bring himself to walk to the temporary supply room. The refinement system had been badly damaged, and the raw energon tasted even worse to him now.

Just as he reached his own room, the main door opened abruptly behind him and Fireflight came racing in.

"I found him! I found Steelspring!"

Sure enough, the enormous snake was wrapped many times around Fireflight's neck and torso, coiled almost as tightly as his namesake. Steelspring couldn't hurt Fireflight even with his tightest grip, but Silverbolt still felt a little nervous every time Fireflight had him out. He'd seen what the python did to his meals, after all. But Fireflight had been heartbroken to find the tank shattered and his pet gone after the attack, and Silverbolt couldn't help smiling at the first genuinely happy expression he'd seen on his brother's face for days.

"Where was he?"

"Down by the generators where it's warm. Metroplex told me something had been slithering around over his thermostatic sensors, so I went to have a look and there he was! I think he's pleased to see me."

Silverbolt regarded the snake, which showed no evidence of such emotion (and was quite possibly attempting to eat Fireflight despite previous experience), and decided not to comment. "We'll have to find somewhere to put him until we can get a new tank. We can't have him prowling the base, not with the humans in and out to help with clean up."

"Air Raid's bringing a couple of empty crates over. We can knock the sides out and put them together and he should be okay for now."

"That's great." A wave of tiredness swept over Silverbolt. "I'm going to recharge for a bit. Okay?"

"Okay." Fireflight was half-heartedly attempting to uncoil Steelspring from his neck. He paused to look over at Silverbolt, some of the gladness leaking out of his face. "Have you heard anything from Cybertron?"

"Not yet. I'll tell you as soon as we know anything."

As he closed the door behind him, Silverbolt tried not to let his own processor go down that train of thought. Surely Ultra Magnus would be in contact soon. Surely someone would come to take charge. And surely… maybe… he had to believe… Skyfire was okay, and he would come back to Earth soon.

*

"Let this mark the end of the Cybertronian wars… let us move forward to a new age of peace and prosperity. 'Til all are one!"

"'Til all are one!"

*

Skyfire was pacing up and down on the launch pad when Perceptor found him.

"Oh, good, I was afraid you would have left already--"

"We were supposed to leave two hours ago." Skyfire tried not to let his frustration into his voice. "But Hot Rod - I mean, Rodimus - is still arguing with the Decepticon defectors and I don't suppose Ultra Magnus is willing to leave the planet until they've reached some sort of agreement…"

"Indeed." Perceptor's voice was soft, his manner unusually hesitant, even accounting for the weight of grief. "But I'm glad you are still here. There's something-- I've just heard, in the latest batch of reports, and I thought you… I thought I should tell you before you heard it second-hand…"

Skyfire stopped where he was, frozen. Every one of his systems seemed to flood with excess coolant, chilling him until he was numb. They hadn't heard anything from Earth since the battle. He at least knew that Silverbolt hadn't been present for the initial attack - but Perceptor had confirmed that the Aerialbots had returned in time to cover the retreat of the Matrix. They had been fighting hard when the shuttles left Earth, and not all of Galvatron's forces had followed Ultra Magnus… and the look on Perceptor's face, the weary certainty that what he had to say would bring pain to Skyfire… for a moment, Skyfire couldn't speak, could hardly even think. He could only wait the agonising seconds before Perceptor found his words again.

"We have an updated list of Decepticon casualties. It seems that… Starscream was deactivated before Unicron even attacked. He was not salvageable. I… thought you should know."

Skyfire stared at him. He could barely make sense of what Perceptor was saying. "Starscream?"

"Yes. I just thought--"

"But you haven't heard anything from Earth?"

"No." Perceptor frowned. "Why?"

Skyfire turned away abruptly and crossed to a parapet that had remained mostly intact after Unicron's destruction. He leaned on it and offlined his optics, willing the shaking of overtaxed systems to subside. Silverbolt wasn't-- at least, for now, he could still hope--

Behind him, a soft, distraught exclamation marked Perceptor's belated realisation.

"Oh, Skyfire, no, I'm sorry, I-- you thought I meant-- I'm sure Silverbolt is fine, he has the others to fight with him, and most of Galvatron's forces came after us--"

"It's… it's okay." Skyfire slowly took hold of himself again. "So… Starscream is dead."

"Yes."

"How did he die?"

"It seems that when Unicron's herald, Galvatron, arrived ahead of his master, the first thing he did was deactivate Starscream and assume leadership of the Decepticons."

"… Primus." Skyfire shook his head. "All those years avoiding being slagged by Megatron, and he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"It is ironic, in a black sort of way." Perceptor came to stand by Skyfire's side. "The defectors claim it was Starscream who ensured Megatron did not return from the battle of Autobot City. If he had not betrayed his leader, Galvatron might have targeted Megatron, and Starscream might have been able to switch allegiance instead of being eliminated as a rival."

"Perhaps." Skyfire turned his optics back on and gazed unseeing at the ruins of Iacon. "But Starscream was on borrowed time from the moment he refused to bend under Megatron's rule. Do you think Megatron would have tolerated him once their power was assured and he no longer needed every resource he could get? Do you think this Galvatron would have allowed him to live past the first betrayal?"

"No," said Perceptor after a moment, "I suppose not."

Skyfire wondered what he should be feeling. There was grief, of a kind, but it was distant and quiet, a dull ache that was familiar rather than new. He had been grieving Starscream for a long time - he had lost him long ago. His death was a final note in a requiem that had begun before they left for Earth all those vorns ago. Skyfire grieved him, but he grieved the friend and partner he had loved long ago - and that mech had, perhaps, never been entirely real to begin with. Skyfire had seen what he wanted to see in Starscream - had wilfully blinded himself to the parts of Starscream he despised. It had taken meeting Silverbolt for him to start to realise that… and oh, how he wished he had seen it sooner.

"Thank you for telling me," Skyfire said at last.

"You're welcome." Perceptor said softly. He cocked his head, listening. "Ah - unless I am very much mistaken, that is the sound of Ultra Magnus and the rest of the Earth expedition heading this way."

Skyfire turned quickly. He too could hear swift footsteps - Ultra Magnus's unmistakable heavy tread, so like Optimus Prime's - and the others whom he was to carry to Autobot City. His spark tightened in both fear and desperate hope. Soon he would know for sure… either way, he would know.

Chapter Text

Skyfire entered Earth's atmosphere too fast, but he didn't care, even when his shields flashed a first-tier warning at him. He could handle the heat of displaced air. He didn't want to lose a second if he could avoid it.

Ultra Magnus had him trying to contact the Earth Autobots as soon as he entered atmosphere, but too many relays had been damaged to get through to the control tower. As soon as he could, Skyfire tried to comm Silverbolt directly. Nothing. But-- he thought the connection had tried to form, rather than falling into the blankness that would have meant Silverbolt wasn't on Earth… or had been deactivated. He clung to that sliver of hope as he descended.

Earth itself looked remarkably peaceful and untouched. Somehow, Skyfire had imagined it would have suffered the same global damage as Cybertron - but Megatron had focused his attack only on Autobot City. It wasn't until Skyfire came down low and locked onto the city's landing beacon that he started to see evidence of the battle. The mountains surrounding the city were scarred with splash damage from the high-powered laser cannons the Autobots had used to try and hold off the Decepticons who were already inside their perimeter. The city itself…

Skyfire hadn't even seen it since it was half-built, and now his first sight of the Autobot sanctuary was of gaping holes in golden walls and crumpled buildings that had felt the force of a gestalt's fist. The tower was wrecked, its communications equipment shattered and its windows gone. The city's core - Metroplex's body in the making - was half-transformed, parts of it folded in on itself in a way that reminded Skyfire of a turtle on its back. The city looked not just damaged, but wounded. It was, in some unfathomable way, much worse than seeing the damage Unicron had done to Cybertron. Their ancient planet had suffered so many injuries over the vorns - the new scars merely overlaid the old. But his had been something new - something hopeful - something that was theirs. It hurt to look at.

The runway was largely clear of debris. Skyfire took further comfort from that. They wouldn't have bothered to clear it if the Aerialbots weren't around and needing it, would they? He swung around in a wide pass that would give any sentries plenty of time to recognise him, and then lined up with the runway and came in to land.

There were Autobots spilling out of nearby buildings before he'd even come to a stop. Skyfire cast his sensors out, searching for some sign of Silverbolt. He heard the babble of voices as Ultra Magnus and the others disembarked, and it was all he could do to control his impatience as he silently urged them to hurry. Someone was taking a long time - hanging back in Skyfire's cargo hold instead of going down the ramp. A brush of field contact told him, to his surprise, that it was Jazz.

:Is everything okay?: Skyfire asked.

:Too many faces ain't here.: Jazz's voice on the comms was so quiet Skyfire almost couldn't catch the transmission. :Primus. I think-- maybe I kinda didn't believe it-- while we were on Cybertron-- thought they'd all be here waitin' when I got back…:

:Jazz--:

Without answering, Jazz suddenly pushed himself away from Skyfire's cabin wall and strode to the entrance. He swung down the ramp briskly, already calling out to Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe in a passable imitation of his usual cheer. From the way Bluestreak immediately tackled him in a desperate hug, and the Twins clustered in closer than they normally chose with anyone but each other, Skyfire thought they had badly needed Jazz to be himself in the midst of all that had happened. And Jazz… had obliged. For the first time, Skyfire wondered how much of Jazz's happy-go-lucky attitude was real, and how much he had built up over the vorns as a shield for himself and for others.

Skyfire realised he could transform now, so he did, wincing at a few scrapes and dents that hadn't yet been patched. The crowd on the edge of the runway was small, but very much entangled in a mill of greetings, grief, muted joy, and relief. No-one there was paying him any attention for the moment. He stood where he was, uncertain and feeling very alone. Only a short time ago he'd believed this could be a homecoming for him… but now he returned to find another one-time home changed beyond recognition… and the faces he longed to see were absent. Silverbolt and his brothers weren't there.

But if they were alive, and within the city, they should be in reach of his comms now. A part of him was still afraid, still dreading that his call would go unanswered… but he had to know. He offlined his optics and tried once more to reach Silverbolt.

*

The fact that Fireflight was hanging upside-down by one leg was actually less of a problem than the fact that Air Raid and Skydive were laughing too hard to do anything about it. Silverbolt sighed. He wasn't immune to the humour of the situation, but he was too tired to properly appreciate it.

"Jetpack, Fireflight."

"Oh, right." The Twins had lent them the equipment without hesitation. Silverbolt thought they were grateful not to be asked to work on the medbay themselves. "Wait, which button was it?"

"The green one."

Fireflight found the right button, and was promptly restored to the correct orientation. He grabbed onto a support strut, deactivated the jetpack, waved cheerfully, and connected the next line of cabling as if nothing had happened. A few more lights lit up on the console next to Silverbolt, and Inferno smiled.

"Tha's great, fellas, thanks. Just a couple more an' I think Red'll be ready to go."

"It's no problem," Silverbolt replied. "I think it will be good for Metroplex to have Red Alert hooked back into the surveillance systems."

"I'm damn sure it'll be good for Red." Inferno pressed a button cautiously. "Lookin' good up there!"

Fireflight and Air Raid waved and began edging along the exposed support beams along the medbay roof. They'd been routing this fibreoptic bundle of cables through ducts and corridors all day. Red Alert had been online in fits and starts, but he was beside himself with worry, guilt, and helplessness whenever he came back to consciousness. It had been Inferno, long accustomed to his partner's quirks, who'd said it would help to get him back 'on the grid' - and Silverbolt had found Metroplex almost desperately eager to help make it happen. Both of them took responsibility - perhaps too much - for the safety of this city. Both of them felt they had failed. Perhaps they could overcome their grief together by working to direct the reconstruction efforts.

"Air Raid, you need to move a little more to the left," Silverbolt called out. "No, your left! Your left!"

"Okay, okay, I got it…"

"Skydive, can you pass him that piece of--"

His comms beeped, and Silverbolt automatically went to route the call to messaging - he had too many at the moment to deal with anything that wasn't high priority - and then froze as he recognised the code. For a handful of seconds that stretched into eternity he couldn't even think straight to answer. Then he opened the channel.

:Skyfire--:

:Silverbolt--?:

:Are you--:

:-- okay?:

They spoke simultaneously and Silverbolt could have laughed if he weren't so close to breaking down.

:I'm okay. We're okay. Where are you?:

:We just landed - I'm out on the runway. I'm okay-- I-- Primus, Silverbolt, the city is so--:

:I know.: There were so many things he wanted to say, days of fear and grief and worry that he longed to spill out to Skyfire. But he was aware now that his brothers were staring at him, feeling the surge of his emotions through the gestalt link, guessing the reason for his mid-sentence silence. They needed to finish this up, so Red Alert could begin his recovery. So Inferno could get some rest without worrying about him. So Metroplex wasn't alone amid his unresponsive systems. :I can't-- we're in the medbay, setting up a network link--:

:I'll need to report back to Ultra Magnus,: Skyfire said. Silverbolt heard the same awareness in his voice - that he had too many responsibilities to just drop everything the way he wanted to. :As soon as I'm off duty--:

:Yes, as soon as we're done here, I'll come and find you--:

:I'll see you then. I'm-- I'll see you.:

"Silverbolt?" Air Raid was in serious danger of falling off the support beam out of sheer inattention to his centre of balance. "Was that--?"

"Skyfire." Silverbolt found his vocaliser almost wouldn't respond normally; his voice wanted to crack and waver. He somehow kept it steady. "He's okay. He just landed."

"Here?" squeaked Fireflight.

"Yes, here." Silverbolt dragged his processor back on track. "And we'll see him later, when we're done here. Air Raid, you still need to move left a bit…"

*

:… I'll see you.:

In the time it had taken to speak to Silverbolt, the rest of the Autobots on the landing strip had moved back towards the buildings. Skyfire found his servos shaky and unresponsive. He was suddenly aware of how exhausted he was. He wanted badly to recharge, and at the same time, doing so would be unthinkable before he had seen Silverbolt. He shook himself and moved after the other Autobots, hurrying to catch up. He owed Ultra Magnus any further service he could render before he looked to his own desires…

"Skyfire!" Jazz had paused, turning as Skyfire caught up. "Where d'ya think you're goin'?"

"I need to find out what Ultra Magnus wants me to--"

"No way." Jazz was half-smiling, but Skyfire thought his optics, had they been visible, would have shown the same weariness they were all feeling. "You're off duty. As of right-fraggin'-now. Go find him."

"I can't just--"

"I'm still third-in-command," Jazz replied, a hint of steel in the words. "You just flew us lightyears across space an' don't think I don't know how much you've done since the battle. You're off duty. That's an order. Go find Silverbolt, and get some rest. Bonus points if you can persuade him to do the same. Sounds like he's been pretty much runnin' the joint since it all went down."

Of course he had. "Are you sure there isn't anything I should--"

"Sure as slag." Jazz gave him a somewhat ineffective shove towards the entrance. "Get goin'."

"… thank you."

Skyfire started towards where he remembered the infirmary being, but the layout of the city had changed subtly - partly through continued work and partly due to the defensive transformation - and he found himself unsure which turning to take after a few minutes. He remembered something SIlverbolt had told him about a troop of lost human scientists, and tentatively tried the root comm line for the city.

:Yes?:

The voice was deep and sonorous. It reminded Skyfire of Superion - and from other things Silverbolt had said, he supposed the comparison was apt.

:Metroplex? I need-- I'm trying to find Silverbolt. He said he was in the infirmary, but I'm not sure--:

:Turn left, then left again. Straight past three intersections, right, then left. Straight again until you reach a three-way intersection, where you must turn right. The infirmary is directly ahead.:

:Thank you.:

:You are welcome.: A pause, and then Metroplex added, :Silverbolt is a friend.:

Skyfire followed the directions, moved by the quiet loyalty in the enormous mech's voice. He had heard a lot from Silverbolt about Metroplex over the last few months. He had imagined, from his own experiences with guardian sparks, that the wry affection was one-sided. He knew now that he had been wrong.

There - the infirmary was exactly where Metroplex had said it would be, and though the door was ajar and Skyfire could see damage beyond, it looked so familiar he expected Ratchet to start shouting as soon as he was through the door.

Instead he caught sight of Fireflight and Air Raid balanced precariously on a high beam, while Skydive manipulated dangling cables beneath them. Silverbolt was standing by a console with Inferno, directing the procedure. As Skyfire watched, Air Raid connected several cables, swore briefly as electrical discharge crackled over his fingers, then leaned over to yell, "Done it!"

Silverbolt said something to Inferno, who quickly pressed a number of keys on the console. Multiple screens lit up with what Skyfire recognised as the multi-level security feeds that Red Alert used to monitor the Ark - or, he supposed, Autobot City - and he belatedly recognised the white and red mech on the nearby berth. Inferno was already hurrying to Red Alert's side, where First Aid was silently and deftly working.

"He's coming back online," the young medic said as Inferno reached them. "He's probably going to panic again--"

"We've got it covered," Inferno replied, lifting Red Alert's hand in both of his. "Silverbolt, you got that feed?"

"Right here." Silverbolt was carefully drawing a set of cross-functional cables across the floor to Red Alert's berth.

"Hey, Red - ya hear me, Red?"

Red Alert came online crying out - something about the city and the security protocols - and Inferno and First Aid quickly connected the cables to various input ports. Skyfire realised what they were doing just as Red Alert quietened.

"Okay, Red?" Inferno said quietly.

"Yes." Red Alert's optics were offline but he was clearly aware, reading data from other sources. "I… I am okay now. Thank you."

His hand was gripping Inferno's like it would dent the plating, but Inferno didn't seem to notice. Skyfire didn't think he would have, either, with that much relief and gratitude in Red Alert's voice. And Silverbolt - Silverbolt was standing there watching them, the faintest hint of a tired smile on his face, the cable still in his hand…

Then he glanced over at the door and froze as their optics met. Before Skyfire could say anything - or move - or even think - Fireflight, perhaps prompted by some reaction across the gestalt bond, also looked over.

"SKYFIRE!"

And then they were all turning, as Fireflight practically launched himself off the beam, belatedly remembering to activate some sort of device - was that Sideswipe's jetpack? - that saved him from a fall - but Skyfire could only see Silverbolt. Silverbolt who, stirred by his brother's cry, suddenly seemed to abandon dignity and flung himself across the space between them, and Skyfire barely had time to fall to his knees so that he could catch Silverbolt in his arms--

Silverbolt. Silverbolt was there, was real, was clinging on so tightly Skyfire could feel his plating creak. He didn't care. He knew he was holding just as tightly to Silverbolt - Silverbolt who was really there, really okay… He couldn't think, couldn't see, blinded by Silverbolt's field and the way it opened to him so urgently, the way he couldn't have kept his own field opaque if he'd tried… Primus, he would have bared his spark in that moment if Silverbolt had asked--

"You're hurt," Silverbolt said, voice low. "You're--"

"It's only scratches. Scrapes. Nothing serious, there weren't enough medics--"

"Oh Primus, Skyfire, Ratchet is--"

"I know. I know."

They clung to each other as if they would lose their hold on gravity without the support. Skyfire wanted to kiss Silverbolt senseless, pick him up bodily and carry him away so he could say everything trying to burst from his vocaliser, so that he could beg forgiveness and promise Silverbolt anything, anything he wanted…

"Oh, my love," Skyfire whispered, and felt Silverbolt shiver in his arms.

Then Silverbolt gently, but firmly pushed him away. His field still mingled with Skyfire's, and Skyfire felt the conflicting currents of his emotion - longing, grief, pain, hope - even as he stepped back, putting a small distance between them. He kept hold of Skyfire's hands, tightly, as if he was afraid Skyfire would vanish if he let go. He didn't have to say anything; Skyfire understood. There were too many things unsaid between them to just fall back into how things used to be as if nothing had changed. No matter how much Skyfire wanted to.

The other three Aerialbots had paused in their rush forward, showing an unusual amount of restraint, but now they resumed motion. Fireflight didn't even bother to decelerate, just collided with Skyfire with something between a wail and a greeting, and latched on. Air Raid wasn't far behind. Skyfire was stunned and humbled by the depth of their relief on seeing him - not only that he was unhurt, but that he was here. They'd missed him. They'd wanted to see him. They were so glad he was back. Fireflight was in all possibility now fused permanently to Skyfire's chest plates.

Skydive hadn't thrown himself bodily at Skyfire like his brothers, but he too came in close and into field contact, winding up leaning against one of Skyfire's shoulders.

"You're okay? We heard about the moonbases--"

"I wasn't there," Skyfire replied. Silverbolt had moved aside for his brothers, but one of his hands was still linked with Skyfire's, and he didn't seem very inclined to let go. "Prime sent me to Kalis to investigate something--"

He choked, suddenly remembering that Prime now meant someone entirely different, that Optimus was… gone. And from the distraught echo that passed through all four of the fields touching his, his wasn't the only memory that had been jogged. Even more than the other Autobots, the Aerialbots had reason to look up to Optimus not only as a leader but as a something approaching their creator. He could feel the jagged wounds left by their devastation. He hugged Fireflight tightly and squeezed Silverbolt's hand.

"Where's Slingshot?"

"Patrolling with Blades," said Air Raid. He managed a subdued imitation of one of his normal smirks. "Or, y'know, 'patrolling' with Blades…"

Skyfire stared at him with a jab of concern. "Surely they wouldn't start fighting now, in the middle of all this--"

"No, of course not," Silverbolt said sharply. "Anyway, they've been much better recently. And they wouldn't jeopardise the city by doing anything else when they're supposed to be patrolling, either, Air Raid."

"I was just kidding," Air Raid muttered.

Skyfire looked between them, confused, but neither seemed about to enlighten him, and then Fireflight was saying, "Did anybody else… on Cybertron…?"

"Many of the Decepticons were deactivated," Skyfire answered. "Megatron is gone, and so is his would-be replacement, Galvatron." He deliberately said nothing about Starscream. "Most of the Autobots on the moons came to Earth with Optimus after the attack, and those remaining escaped Unicron - some of them just barely."

"Unicron?" Skydive tugged on Skyfire's shoulder to get his attention. "What's Unicron? Blaster said he'd heard something like that in the messages that got through but he couldn't figure out what they were talking about--"

"I suspect," Silverbolt said before Skyfire could reply, "that the fact I've got Ultra Magnus trying to comm me means we're about to find out." He let go of Skyfire's hand with obvious reluctance, and stepped away to answer the call.

"You're all scorched on this side," Fireflight said softly. "Were you fighting Decepticons?"

"Not Decepticons. In fact, for a while the Autobots and Decepticons were even on the same side…"

The exclamations of disbelief were cut off by Silverbolt turning back to them.

"We're to head to the main common room for debrief immediately," he said. "I've called Slingshot and Blades back. We should get going." He regarded the close cluster of mechs in front of him and a small, but real smile lit his face just enough to stir Skyfire's spark. "Though that may require a lever in Fireflight's case…"

*

"… The being known as Unicron has been destroyed. A few scattered pieces remain, including the head of the creature's root mode - or so we presume it to be - which now orbits Cybertron in place of the lost moons. We hope to study it and learn what we can about where this threat came from, and whether there are others…"

"… Rodimus Prime is the bearer of the Matrix and the new leader of the Autobots. Decepticon presence on Cybertron has been reduced to negligible; many civilians have readily taken Autobot allegiance or at the very least opted to remain neutral. Both the old leadership of the Decepticons and the would-be replacements have been deactivated or scattered. We have control of the Decepticon energon facility on Mercury, and once Autobot City is repaired we will have ample energy to truly reawaken Cybertron. Not only reawaken, but repair - rebuild - and renew our long-silent world…"

"… The war is over… though we cannot say for sure it will never reignite… we must seize peace with both hands and work and fight as hard for it as we ever did for victory…"

"… We will begin by making this place, our second home, safe and whole once more…"

"… but we shall begin that task tomorrow. Tonight, our human allies will watch the skies for any attack, and we… we will mourn our dead - and celebrate the achievement of their dream."

"That is all I have to say."

*

It wasn't a party. There was too much grief, and too many ghosts, to call it a party. But it wasn't entirely sombre, either. There was high grade. As the night went on, hushed voices became less hushed. Half-hearted attempts to talk about other things were given up, and slowly, piece by piece, the assembled Autobots began to share their stories of the final, terrible battle - and of those lost. Silverbolt first felt the stirrings of certainty that things would eventually be okay when he heard Sideswipe in the middle of a half-laughing, half-sobbing rant about Ratchet's idiocy in getting himself killed first, just when they really needed him.

There was so much to process. Not only was Optimus gone, but his replacement was - Hot Rod? Rodimus? A mech only a few vorns older than Silverbolt and his brothers, whom Silverbolt had, only weeks ago, been dragging into Ultra Magnus's office with Air Raid and Sideswipe to explain what they'd been doing with five barrels of glue and enough feathers to cover, say, Powerglide's entire surface area… Silverbolt felt no resentment - in fact, if anything, he was conscious of a deep sympathy and concern for Rodimus, knowing all too well what it was to be thrust into responsibility - but it was so hard to comprehend. He half-expected to wake up and find it had all been a defrag dream brought on by the days of worry and sleeplessness…

Except that would make Skyfire's return just as unreal. Silverbolt glanced sideways for the hundredth time. He caught Skyfire doing the same thing. Their optics met, and Silverbolt repressed a shiver.

"Okay?" Skyfire murmured.

"Yes." They were to one side of the common room, Silverbolt's brothers in a haphazard cluster around them. Just at the moment no-one was paying them any attention - Jazz was describing the escape from Unicron's depths. "Are you?"

"I… don't really know." Skyfire looked out over the crowded room. "Everything's changed so quickly. I can't believe… and there are so many people who should be here. And the war - the Decepticons - everything I had to adapt to after the ice…"

He trailed off.

"Everything we've ever known," Silverbolt finished for him quietly, looking at his brothers. "Everything we have lived and fought for is over, and I should be glad, but I don't know what happens now."

Skyfire's hand found his. Silverbolt turned towards him, and for a moment they were silent, standing close with their fields overlapping. Silverbolt reached out to gently touch the scorch marks on the side of Skyfire's torso. He could see they were no more than marks - there was no real damage beneath them - but they were a reminder that Skyfire had fought not only for his life, but for Cybertron, with the most unlikely allies.

"I suppose we have to start again," Skyfire said softly. It was almost, but not quite, a question, and Silverbolt realised that he was only partly talking about the Autobots.

"I suppose so." Silverbolt hesitated. "Skyfire--"

"It's okay. I know I can't just…" Skyfire shook his head. "I'll follow your lead. Wherever that takes us."

He meant it. Silverbolt could read that clearly in his field - clearer than he'd ever expected to see into Skyfire again. The hesitation, the darkness that had kept Silverbolt at bay was gone - or, perhaps, if it wasn't entirely gone, Skyfire had chosen to push it aside, was choosing to leave himself vulnerable to Silverbolt's awareness. Even if Silverbolt, in turn, chose to close the door on what they had shared - Skyfire was willing to take the chance. And Skyfire knew - oh, he knew - what pain he had caused Silverbolt. It was there in ribbons of bright, bitter guilt wound around his thoughts. He knew, and he would not try to evade responsibility. If he could make amends, he would - but if Silverbolt told him to go, he would go.

Silverbolt wanted to say - more things than he had words for - but as he struggled to find even one that would not trigger an outpouring of emotion he could not contain, they were interrupted.

He should have noticed the Protectobots approaching - they weren't exactly quiet - but he'd been too caught up in that wordless moment with Skyfire. He barely had time to register the sudden babble of greetings as they reached his brothers before Hot Spot was swinging around one of the couches, already speaking.

"There you are - I was starting to worry you'd slipped off somewhere again--"

Silverbolt couldn't help glaring at his friend, though he tried. He knew Hot Spot only wanted to look out for him, but that didn't give him the right to decide who Silverbolt was and wasn't allowed to talk to--

Except Hot Spot was only just glancing at Skyfire, and the surprise and dismay on his face told a different story. Silverbolt suddenly realised that, despite Skyfire's size, Hot Spot hadn't even seen him. Maybe someone else in the rec room had been positioned just right to block his view, or maybe Hot Spot had been busy herding his brothers and just headed in the direction he'd last seen Silverbolt - but whatever the reason, the interruption hadn't been deliberate. Which didn't stop it being badly timed, or make it less frustrating, but there was no help for it now. Hot Spot's brothers were mingling and settling down with Silverbolt's, taking up every available space, raising the noise level, and cutting Hot Spot off from a graceful escape.

There was an awkward pause.

"Er, sorry," said Hot Spot, "I didn't…" Then he seemed to decide he'd better try to carry on as normal, though he cast an apologetic glance at Silverbolt. "Hi, Skyfire. Glad to see you made it through everything."

"And you. Are your brothers...?"

"They're all fine. We weren't even here when it happened. We've just been cleaning up."

The undertone of guilt was familiar. It was the same pain that had kept Silverbolt from recharge in the last few days. If they'd only been here - maybe things would have been different - maybe there would have been something they could do…

"I saw the city from above when I flew in," Skyfire said. "There's so much damage."

"Yeah, it's a mess. We should get on faster now you're here - I mean, all of you, from Cybertron - I mean, if you're staying--"

"We are," Skyfire replied with quiet certainty. "Until the city is rebuilt. And most of us are planning to stay longer, I think."

"That's good." There was unfeigned warmth in Hot Spot's voice. "That's really good to hear."

Raised voices pulled Silverbolt's attention over to his brothers. It didn't sound like a real argument, but with everyone as shaken and raw as they were, he didn't want to take the chance of anything escalating.

But whatever Sideswipe had said to draw such a reaction, he was already backing down in the face of the combined ire of Slingshot and Blades. "You're right," he said, uncharacteristically. "That wasn't funny. Sorry."

Neither Slingshot nor Blades seemed to entirely know how to deal with that, but thankfully let it pass, with a brief nod from Slingshot and a scowl from Blades. Except now Sunstreaker was staring at them like they'd each welded an extra head onto their shoulders.

"Primus, what's with you two?" he demanded. "Didn't you hate each other? What happened, you sharing a berth now or something?"

Everyone in the surrounding area seemed to freeze for a nanoklik, Silverbolt's brothers and the Protectobots alike. Silverbolt thought, Primus damn it, Sunstreaker, did you have to--

Then Slingshot fixed Sunstreaker with a glare like a laser rifle and said, "Yeah, and?"

There was a pause.

"Huh." Sunstreaker looked from one of them to the other, then over at Sideswipe. "Didn't see that coming."

Sideswipe shrugged. "You missed stuff."

And then Jazz leaned back over to say something about reopening the west suburb of Iacon, and the twins and Air Raid immediately bombarded him with questions - Silverbolt gathered that there had been some sort of entertainment complex there in the past. The conversation moved on without further comment. Silverbolt watched Slingshot, watched him realise, slowly and disbelievingly, that his announcement hadn't changed anything, and watched Blades glance quickly at his brothers, see the same lack of reaction, and reach the same conclusion. An almost unnoticed tension went out of both of them. Silverbolt quickly looked away before Slingshot caught him, but he didn't try to hide his smile.

It turned into quiet laughter when he saw the expression on Skyfire's face.

"They're not really--" Skyfire looked at the mechs in question, then at Silverbolt and Hot Spot. "-- are they? Seriously?"

"Apparently," said Hot Spot. He nudged Silverbolt in the wing. "Pay up."

"Hey, I never took that bet."

"Like the Pit you didn't, Mr 'You're Imagining Things'--"

"That was before the Canada trip, I told you after that I agreed with you--"

"You did not, you said you weren't going to speculate if they didn't want to say anything." Hot Spot had his mask off, so he couldn't hide his grin. "That doesn't count. You owe me."

Silverbolt sighed. "What, exactly, do I owe you?"

Hot Spot started to reply, then looked suddenly dismayed. "I. Uh. I actually don't remember."

"In that case..."

Silverbolt pulled a small energon candy out his subspace and handed it solemnly over to Hot Spot. Hot Spot took it, looked at it, and shrugged.

"Bet paid in full."

Skyfire still seemed to be trying to grasp the new information. "Seriously? Slingshot and Blades?"

Silverbolt patted him gently on the arm. "You'll get used to the idea. Somehow, they even seem to be a good influence on each other."

Hot Spot snorted aloud and tossed the energon candy into his mouth. "So who says we need the Matrix to perform miracles?"

*

No-one seemed to want to leave the rec room to recharge. As the night wore on, some 'bots fell asleep where they sat, while others kept talking, and listening, well into the early hours. By the time Silverbolt's brothers were sprawled over each other on the couches, he didn't have the heart to wake them.

"I should get to my berth," Skyfire said.

"Me too." Silverbolt carefully stepped over Air Raid's legs and looked back over his shoulder. "I don't know how your quarters fared. Do you want me to find you a guest room for now?"

"I'll try my quarters first." Skyfire followed him out of the rec room, picking his way between sleeping and quietly talking mechs. "Right now I think I could sleep pretty much anywhere."

They walked in silence, too tired even for idle conversation. Silverbolt had to keep resisting the urge to reach over and take Skyfire's hand, or walk close enough that their fields could overlap. By the time they reached the corridor leading to the Aerialbots' quarters and Skyfire's, Silverbolt was starting to feel like he was constantly tugging against a gravity field. The temptation to give in was almost overwhelming.

"Well." Skyfire had stopped in front of his door. "Here goes..."

He keyed in his code. There was a noticeable pause before the door opened, but it moved relatively smoothly and when Skyfire reached for the lights, they responded.

"It's not so bad," Skyfire said after a moment, surprise in his voice.

"It's right under one of the big support structures for the upper levels," Silverbolt said, looking around. "We got some of the benefit of that, too."

A patch of ceiling had shattered and the metal pieces lay in a pile on the floor. Loose furniture lay overturned, and a number of items that had been neatly stacked on shelves had fallen, but the big room was otherwise largely unscathed. There had been some water leakage down one wall, but its source had already been dealt with, leaving only a broad, dark stain that could be remedied with some metallic paint. The berth padding had been thrown onto the floor, but when Skyfire picked it up and brushed it off, the mesh-weave seemed undamaged, and as soon as he laid it back into the frame, the berth looked usable.

"Make sure the supports haven't come loose," Silverbolt said. "Slingshot's collapsed when he sat on it."

"It looks fairly solid." Skyfire inspected the berth frame and experimentally shook each support in turn. "What does the computer terminal look like?"

Silverbolt crossed the room - picking up a couple of datapads and stacking them on the desk on the way - and powered up the screen.

"It's working as well as anything else. Teletraan-2 is up and down like a yo-yo at the moment, but--"

"Like a what?"

"A yo-yo. It's a human gadget, Firefight has a scaled-up one--" Silverbolt tried to think how to describe the toy, but his over-tired processor drew a blank. "It's a thing that goes up and down a lot. Like Teletraan-2."

"I see," said Skyfire, amused. "You should get some rest."

"I suppose I should." Silverbolt picked up a chair, set it right, and then leaned on it as he watched Skyfire. "Do you need anything?"

"No, this is fine. It's far more than I expected, to be honest. I thought everything would be broken--"

Skyfire stopped, scanning the room with sudden concern. He turned on the spot, searching the debris on the ground.

"What is it?"

"My orrery." Skyfire turned again with a sigh, kneeling to begin sifting through the broken pieces of metal on the floor. "I suppose it was too much to hope--"

"Oh!" Silverbolt could have kicked himself. "No, it's fine. I put it away."

"What?" Skyfire looked up at him, startled. "When?"

"Just after you… after you went out into space." Silverbolt avoided Skyfire's optics. "I thought-- I just, I hated the idea of it gathering dust in here, maybe getting broken if Metroplex's drones needed to do any work - so I packed it into one of the equipment crates and got Hoist to store it in the warehouse. It shouldn't be damaged at all."

He didn't tell Skyfire that it had been a kind of symbolic act for him, when things had been at their worst - when he'd thought Skyfire was gone forever. He'd come into Skyfire's quarters more than once in the months before that, setting the orrery in motion and watching it, and telling himself over and over that Skyfire had to come back, because he wouldn't have left the orrery if he was planning to stay away. When Skyfire had gone on the deep space mission… Silverbolt had felt almost betrayed by the contraption - as if it had made him a promise and broken it. And he'd known that he couldn't do this any more, that he had to draw a line under everything he'd hoped, and move on. So he had packed up the orrery, taking a sliver of satisfaction in protecting it even when Skyfire had abandoned it, and he hadn't been back into Skyfire's quarters between then and now.

And now the expression on Skyfire's face was full of such amazement and gratitude that Silverbolt's spark contracted painfully.

"You really-- it isn't damaged?"

"It shouldn't be. The warehouses were completely untouched. I can go and get it now if--"

"It can wait." Skyfire got to his feet and came over to where Silverbolt was standing. Every sensor node in Silverbolt's plating reacted in response, anticipating that he would reach out - but Skyfire seemed to be holding himself back as much as Silverbolt was. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I should never have--" He stopped, then went on in a low tone. "I feel I've been unfairly lucky, all things considered. I… have lost nothing that I hold dear."

He did reach out then, but only to briefly touch Silverbolt's hand on the back of the chair, a light press that was as reserved and careful as his every word and gesture had been all night.

"Thank you."

Silverbolt couldn't hide the shiver that passed through his whole body. Their optics met. Silverbolt wanted nothing more just then than for Skyfire to lean down and kiss him until he couldn't think, or see, or care about anything at all except this, now…

He didn't think it was just him, either. But Skyfire had apparently meant what he'd said about following Silverbolt's lead - and about starting over. He finally looked away, and stepped back, starting to push the debris to one side with his foot.

"We should both get some rest," Skyfire said.

"Yes." After a moment, Silverbolt forced himself to let go of the chair and move towards the door. "You're sure you have everything you need?"

"Yes," Skyfire replied softly, and Silverbolt could hear the lie in it, laid bare by the longing that slipped into the simple word. "Goodnight. Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

"I think it technically is morning," Silverbolt replied, half-laughing with the whimsy of exhaustion. "I'll… see you later, then."

"Yes."

He turned to go. Behind him, he heard Skyfire pushing more of the mess to one side, clearing space around the berth. Silverbolt stopped with his hand on the door controls and looked back. Skyfire tested the berth with one hand, then sat carefully on the edge, relaxing when it bore his weight easily. He looked over at Silverbolt, perhaps wondering why he hadn't heard the door open yet.

The answer, Silverbolt realised with calm clarity, was that he did not want to open the door. He did not want to walk out. He had absolutely no desire at all to go to his own berth and try to recharge alone.

And he was completely, utterly done with waiting.

Five purposeful steps took him across the room. Skyfire started to speak, but as far as Silverbolt was concerned, they were also done with talking, at least for now. He put a stop to whatever Skyfire meant to say by the simple method of taking hold of his face in both hands and kissing him.

It had been so long that for a moment they both hesitated in the kiss, uncertain - but then Skyfire pulled Silverbolt down onto his lap, and Silverbolt wrapped his arms behind Skyfire's neck, and hesitation was swept away.

It was at once deeply familiar and almost new. They both remembered how they fit together, but they'd lost the habit of taking account of it without thinking. Silverbolt found the angle that let him kiss Skyfire deeply, and Skyfire didn't even seem to be trying to hold back the soft moan that Silverbolt wrung from him. Silverbolt shivered at the sound of it, and Skyfire's hands moved tentatively into place on his wings, running shaking fingers down the seams and gently rubbing the elevons.

Silverbolt found he was losing track of time completely. Primus, it had been so long… and Skyfire's field was as open and yearning as his own, tangling willingly in a rush of emotion and need. His second guess had been the right one, Silverbolt realised - it wasn't that the darkness had left Skyfire completely, but he was refusing to try and hide it anymore. Silverbolt couldn't have expressed in words just how that made him feel - but he didn't need to, with their fields so intermingled. Skyfire's arms tightened around him in response.

Finally, they broke off kissing in an unconscious moment of shared decision. Silverbolt leaned his forehead against Skyfire's and kept his optics dimmed. Skyfire pressed a whisper-soft kiss against his cheek and resumed stroking his wings, and Silverbolt would have stayed in that moment forever if he could.

"Is... this okay?" Skyfire said.

"I am so tired of being sensible," Silverbolt replied softly. "For once in my life I want to be reckless, and impulsive, and take a chance. I don't want to start over. I want to stay here with you. If that's what you want."

"Oh, my love," Skyfire whispered, as he had in the medbay. This time Silverbolt didn't try to hide the surge of longing that it evoked. "Primus, yes, more than anything - but..."

Silverbolt caught the meaning behind the words he didn't say aloud: that he didn't deserve this, that it shouldn't be so easy, that he should have to work and suffer before he could even think about winning back Silverbolt's spark. And Silverbolt realised that those thoughts had been there all along - that Skyfire had never really believed he'd earned Silverbolt's love.

He didn't know how long it would take to convince Skyfire otherwise - but he knew he could do it now - now that Skyfire was willing to let him see his fears. Silverbolt kissed him again, letting his field speak for him. I love you. And that's my choice.

"Stay," said Skyfire, the word almost a plea.

"Always," Silverbolt whispered.

Chapter Text

Skyfire came out of recharge with a jolt, momentarily unable to process his surroundings or why the gravity felt different. Then it flooded back in on him - he was on Earth. He was in his own quarters in Autobot City. He was off-duty for now. Silverbolt was safe. Silverbolt was...

Silverbolt was recharging curled against him, one arm lying loosely across Skyfire's body as though to be sure not to lose him somehow - though Skyfire could hardly go anywhere, since one of his own arms was pinned beneath Silverbolt, hand still resting against the wing he'd been stroking when they fell asleep. Skyfire offlined his optics and drew in a deep breath through his intakes. His spark felt loose and light, freed of a huge burden - and on fire with amazement and joy. For this moment, he could push aside the knowledge of all that had happened in the last few days, and acknowledge that he was happy - and luckier than he had any right to be.

He checked his chronometer - it was sometime in the afternoon - and his comms - which were devoid of messages or alerts. Ultra Magnus had told them all to rest for as long as they needed. Skyfire spared a moment of immense gratitude for the Autobots' new second-in-command, and let himself slip back into recharge.

The next time he awakened it was early evening, and Silverbolt was running drowsy fingers over his cockpit glass. Skyfire turned his head to meet Silverbolt's optics, which were barely lit, giving off only the faintest blue glow.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

Silverbolt's optics brightened and he rolled closer to Skyfire, leaning up for a sleepy kiss.

"Like I just slept for a week. I didn't, did I?"

"Not even close."

Skyfire couldn't resist kissing him thoroughly in return, and for a while there wasn't really any further need for conversation.

Gradually, contentment gave way to a more focused interest, and Skyfire was just beginning to feel his systems start to race when Silverbolt jumped slightly and pulled away with a grimace.

"Comms," he said, optics fixing on a point across the room as he switched his attention elsewhere. "Hang on..."

Skyfire watched his face, entertained by the series of expressions that crossed it. He had a fair idea of what Silverbolt was going to say even before he sighed and looked down at Skyfire ruefully.

"My brothers have just woken up. Would it surprise you terribly to learn that they drank entirely too much high grade and Fireflight thinks his head is going to fall off?"

Skyfire laughed. "Not terribly."

"I'm tempted to let them sort themselves out..." Silverbolt ran his fingers down that one particular seam that always made Skyfire shiver. It didn't fail now. "But I guess I'd better go. I mean, we'll have time later... right?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Skyfire said. "Well. I might leave the berth..."

Silverbolt leaned down to kiss him for a long few seconds. When he drew back, he said hesitantly, "You could... come with me?"

"Would that be okay, do you think?"

"I think so. If you want to?"

Skyfire's answer was to sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the berth. Silverbolt's soft, happy smile almost stopped his spark. Skyfire followed him out into the corridor in a daze.

The big rec room was littered with mechs who hadn't made it to their quarters. Many were still flat out in recharge, including Blades and Slingshot, who had curled up together in a way that left little doubt that last night's revelation hadn't been some sort of hoax. Others were awake and in various stages of high grade hangover. Fireflight and Air Raid were sprawled pathetically on one of the couches, while Skydive was huddled mournfully in a chair nearby. Fireflight gave them the most woeful look Skyfire had ever seen on a mech.

"My head--" he began sombrely.

"-- is going to fall off. Yes, I've heard." Silverbolt sat on the edge of the couch and gently patted the head in question. "Did you use a med chip?"

"Don't have any."

"Me neither," moaned Air Raid, who was face down on a mesh cushion. "Even Skydive hasn't."

Skydive mumbled something incomprehensible about not being a walking dispensary and shot Silverbolt a pleading look.

Silverbolt passed out the little painkiller datachips without further comment. Skyfire found a few in his own subspace to supplement the supply (and pass over to nearby mechs who were in similar straits).

"M never drinkin' high grade again," Air Raid mumbled into his cushion.

"You said that last time," replied Skydive, who seemed more alert already. He looked thoughtfully at Silverbolt and Skyfire, but didn't comment. "And the time before."

"Shut up."

"Come on," said Silverbolt with only a trace of amusement. "Let's get you all back to our quarters."

"Don't wanna move," protested Air Raid.

"I can carry someone," offered Skyfire. He was not particularly surprised to find himself immediately in possession of a very wobbly Fireflight. "Ah. Sorry, Air Raid."

"Mrmph."

"I can manage you on my back," Silverbolt said. "You are going to have to sit up, though."

"Mrmph!"

"What about Slingshot?" Skyfire asked.

They all looked at Slingshot and Blades. Skydive reached over as if to shake his brother. Without apparently coming out of recharge, Blades twitched and made a noise that could only be described as a growl.

"... guess he's staying here, then," said Skydive.

"Yeah, he looks comfortable." Air Raid had finally lifted his head to peer at Slingshot with an expression that Skyfire had learned to be wary of. "Hey, has anyone got a camera--"

"No," said Silverbolt firmly. He hauled Air Raid upright, ignoring his protests. "Can you walk or do you want a ride?"

"I can walk. Not sure if I can walk in a straight line..."

"Come on, then."

It turned out that Air Raid's definition of walking could more accurately be described as rebounding off the corridor walls in a vaguely forwards direction, but Silverbolt and Skydive got his arms over their shoulders and half-carried, half-dragged him with them. Skyfire had no trouble carrying Fireflight; he was lighter and smaller than Silverbolt, and, for once in his existence, apparently not inclined to wriggle. He had rested his head against Skyfire's shoulder, and Skyfire almost thought he'd gone back to sleep, until he spoke.

"Are you... back?" Fireflight's voice was so soft it barely reached Skyfire's audios.

"Yes."

"For good?"

"Yes. For good."

"Good," said Fireflight. He didn't say anything else, but Skyfire could feel the soft wash of relief and gladness in his field.

By the time Skyfire had navigated the doorway into the Aerialbots' quarters, Air Raid had landed face down on the couch. He did not seem inclined to get up again, though from the volume of his protests, Skyfire guessed that his incapacity was exaggerated. Skydive had vanished, presumably to his own room, and Silverbolt was trying to persuade Air Raid that it wasn't much further to his berth. Skyfire carried Fireflight further into the room, almost tripping over a pair of crates in the corner, and deposited him carefully on the other couch. Then he looked down at his left foot, startled.

"Er..."

"Oh, Steelspring got out again." Fireflight seemed unconcerned by the large snake wrapping itself around Skyfire's leg, and Skyfire belatedly remembered that it was his pet. "Those crates aren't very secure but we can't get a new tank yet until all the important stuff's been taken care of--"

Skyfire could feel the crushing power of the snake's coils, deadly to its prey but insufficient to make a dent in his plating. He reached down and carefully unwound the python, holding it up to examine the markings.

"He is a beauty, isn't he?"

"He is!" Fireflight beamed proudly. "He can eat a whole rabbit. In one go!"

"That's... impressive."

"It certainly is," said Silverbolt dryly, "especially when he tries to follow it up with Fireflight's hand."

"I'm sure that was just a mistake and he didn't mean to..."

Skyfire looked at the snake, which was looking back at him with an air of calculation. He didn't see a lot of intelligence or empathy in those eyes, but he supposed that as long as it couldn't hurt Fireflight, there was no need to disabuse him of the notion. He carefully returned the python to its crates and wedged them more firmly shut.

"Between you and Beachcomber, Autobot City is becoming distinctly reptilian."

"Oh, we talked him out of the alligators," Silverbolt replied. "Eventually. Though maybe we shouldn't have, they might have given Megatron something to think about..."

He stopped, the lightheartedness ebbing from his face. It was impossible to get away from the battle completely.

"Anyway," Silverbolt went on, "You three are off duty until I say otherwise. So's Slingshot, whenever he comes back. Get some more rest and don't, I repeat, do not try to fly anywhere. Got it?"

Fireflight nodded, already looking like he was headed back into recharge. A faint snore was the only answer from Air Raid. Skydive's closed door made no comment. Silverbolt shook his head, cast a resigned look at Skyfire, and headed for the door.

"Though I'd be amazed if they could find the runway," Silverbolt added when they were out in the corridor, "let alone get into the air..."

Skyfire laughed.

"Now that's taken care of..." Silverbolt moved pointedly towards Skyfire's door. "I was thinking that since as far as I know I'm off-duty until I say otherwise..."

Skyfire caught him in the doorway and kissed him. Silverbolt pressed eagerly against him, and Skyfire was just fumbling for the keypad-- when his comms went off. Long-range ping, high priority, from Perceptor. It almost certainly was important enough to interrupt his downtime, no matter how well deserved.

He pulled back, his grimace no doubt speaking volumes, and Silverbolt half-laughed, half-sighed.

"It's going to be one of those days, isn't it?"

*

It was, in fact, one of those days.

*

"Perceptor's readings don't lie," Skyfire said, in the face of Ultra Magnus's scepticism. "The fusion reactor is still running at a stable level. And if Starscream really did unlock the first layer of encryption on the engine controls, we stand a real chance of gaining control of Cybertron's direction in the future. We could put the planet into orbit around a blue giant, harvest more solar radiation than we can use in a lifetime..."

"Or even Earth's sun," added Silverbolt. "The yield would be smaller, but we'd have the advantage of nearby allies and the extant facilities here and on Mercury for energy gathering..."

Skyfire had no idea when Silverbolt had picked up the technical terms he'd been using so confidently for the last ten minutes, but he was happy to have the backup. "Of course, in that case we'd have to carefully calculate the orbital effects... but we can think about that later. The point is, if we leave the fusion reactor to shut down, I don't know if we'll be able to restart it again."

Ultra Magnus sighed. "I'm reluctant to send our people out to Kalis when we're still uncertain of the stability of the planet--"

"I'm not." Rodimus Prime leaned forward on the comm screen. His transformation under the power of the Matrix had given him an appearance of greater maturity, and he was certainly working to live up to his title so far, but Skyfire suspected that scratching the surface of the new Prime would reveal much of the old, impetuous Hot Rod. "We should totally go for it. Now, while we can. I'll take Springer, Perceptor, and the Dinobots--"

"You can't go yourself," Ultra Magnus countered, with what looked like barely repressed impatience. "You have to delegate-- send out a few scouts, take it cautiously--"

"No way." The tone was light, almost teasing, but Skyfire saw something steely in the Prime's optics. "We've lost enough people. I'm not sending a couple of 'bots out on their own to get jumped by any Decepticons that might be lurking in Kalis. I'm going, and I'm taking a bunch of people with me. Hey, Skyfire, do you want to come?"

"No." The word was out before Skyfire could stop it. He winced at the abruptness of the answer. Rodimus was looking at him in surprise. "I mean... if you need me there, of course I'll... but I would rather stay on Earth."

"Okay, sure, no problem." Fortunately Rodimus didn't seem to mind being so blatantly contradicted. "We just pulled a guy out of stasis, mech called Sky Lynx, and he's got the weirdest root-mode, I think Swoop's in love... but he can fly, and he seems pretty impressed with himself, so we'll give him a shot at taking us out there."

"Rodimus," Ultra Magnus said, in a tone that would have made Skyfire think twice about crossing him, "perhaps you and I should discuss this further--"

"Nope, no time, gotta go, someone's yelling something about turborats in the air shafts, can't stop-- hey, Silverbolt, tell Bluestreak I got his messages, would you?-- bye all."

The screen flickered off on Rodimus's irrepressible grin. Ultra Magnus sat staring at it for long enough that Skyfire and Silverbolt exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"We're doomed," Ultra Magnus said, unexpectedly, and put his head in his hands. "Thank you for your input. Please show yourselves out."

*

Parting from Silverbolt was harder than Skyfire had imagined, even just for a few hours, but the kiss Silverbolt left him with was so full of promise that he was able to take some reassurance from it.

He went back to his quarters to work. He didn't want to go into the labs - not when Wheeljack's experiments would be sitting there, never to be finished - and he needed to use the comms more than he needed lab equipment. He called Perceptor at the same time as he brought up the data on the fusion reactor on his datapad. He was amused to see his friend looking up from his own datapad as he answered the comms.

"How are you getting on?"

"Rodimus is organising an exploratory team," Perceptor said. "I, ah, didn't expect quite such a direct response, I must say."

"Neither did Ultra Magnus. I'm not sure he knows what to make of our new leader."

"It must be hard," Perceptor agreed. "For both of them. I suspect that Rodimus is glad to have a chance to do something straightforward. I believe the enormity of the task before him is only just beginning to sink in. In many ways it is easier to lead in war than in peace."

"Optimus would have led as well in either," Skyfire said with a sigh. Then he caught himself. "Not that I mean any disrespect to Rodimus - it's just so--"

"I know." Perceptor glanced sideways, perhaps at a door or window. "So does he, I think. No-one means any disrespect... but no-one knows what to expect, either. And he is so young, and so... unlike Optimus. He will need people by his side who have no doubts, and at present, they are few and far between. Even his closest friends cannot help but wonder. Springer and Arcee would die for him, but they are finding it hard to take his orders without arguing."

"That sounds familiar. Maybe he should talk to Silverbolt and Hot Spot."

"It would do him a world of good, in my opinion, especially since they're closer in age. But he won't be able to come to Earth for some time, and I understand they cannot be spared."

"No." Skyfire looked over at the pile of debris he had swept into a corner. "The city is... it will take months, maybe years to repair it all."

"But... everyone there is well?" said Perceptor. "I was glad to hear there were no further casualties. And that Silverbolt and his brothers were unhurt."

"As well as they can be. Apart from the hangovers." Skyfire half-smiled, remembering Air Raid's complaints. "Silverbolt is - he's keeping everyone going, as usual."

"I'm not surprised. I hope he'll remember to attend to his own needs as well."

"He will if I have anything to do with it," Skyfire said with some feeling. Then, seeing Perceptor's raised brow-ridges and smirk, "I didn't mean--"

"I'm sure." Perceptor laughed at Skyfire's expression, but his smile was fond as he continued. "Was he glad to see you?"

"I... yes." Skyfire remembered how tightly they'd held each other the night before, and had to fight the urge to leap to his feet and immediately seek Silverbolt out. "Yes."

"Good. I'm glad. Are you staying there for now?"

"For the foreseeable future, except for supply runs. I'll need some things from Cybertron. The energon refinement system needs rebuilding from the ground up, and this time I want the equipment to do it properly..."

"If you send me a list, I'll put Wreck-Gar onto it - he has a knack for scavenging."

"That would be very helpful, thank you." Skyfire realised they had strayed completely away from his reason for calling. "Speaking of scavenging - I wanted to go over the Decepticon manifest lists that Elita-1's team put together before-- before. There are one or two components that you should look out for in Kalis - if Starscream--" and it was strange how easy it was to say his name now, "--was working on the long-range weapons I think he was, he'll have retrofitted them and you'll be able to use them in Iacon to get some of the major systems back up."

Perceptor grabbed his own datapad. "Go ahead." He paused, tilting his head as if listening. "Ah. I think Grimlock is having a disagreement with someone. Possibly several someones. Or a gestalt. I'll just lock the door..."

*

With Skyfire busy, Silverbolt saw no reason not to put himself back on duty, with his first order of business being a general check on the city. Metroplex reported no problems except a few lost and overcharged mechs who had now been safely shepherded to their own quarters. The rec room was slowly emptying out. Hot Spot's team had limped off sometime earlier, according those remaining, and Slingshot had last been seen heading for the Aerialbots' quarters. Sideswipe was still trying to work out exactly how he'd ended up under a couch that really did not have space under it for him, and Jazz was keeping a close optic on everyone. Silverbolt wasn't sure he'd even touched the high grade, though he'd done a good impression last night.

Bluestreak, who had left before Silverbolt the night before, had now apparently recharged and was back to full energy. This was getting him some protests from everyone else as he chattered away, but he didn't seem to mind. Remembering Rodimus's request, Silverbolt headed over to his spot by the window.

"Oh! Thanks!" said Bluestreak, obviously relieved. "I was wondering if the comms had gone through, it's still kinda spotty, I just wanted to check he's okay, I mean, it's gotta be hard, suddenly being Prime and all, and I guess he's really busy..."

"He is," Silverbolt said without hesitation. "It sounds like it's crazy up there."

"Now I feel bad for sitting around down here. Do you think I should ask Ultra Magnus to send me up to help?"

"You've earned a rest," Silverbolt said firmly. Bluestreak had pulled far more than his weight in the last few days, working constantly despite his obvious grief. "Also, Skyfire's the only one who could take you, and he needs at least a few shifts to recover before he flies back."

"Oh, of course, I didn't even think of that..." Bluestreak smiled properly for the first time in days. "He's okay, then?"

"Yes." Silverbolt almost said more, but he realised he didn't need to. Bluestreak could guess. "He's okay. He and Perceptor are doing something with fusion reactors right now. I prefer not to ask exactly what. Which reminds me, I should check on Inferno and Red Alert. See you later."

"Bye!"

As he left, Silverbolt noticed that Bluestreak immediately resumed his aimless stream of conversation. Sunstreaker half-heartedly threw an empty energon cube in his general direction, but Silverbolt thought it was out of habit rather than genuine irritation. Bluestreak had been too quiet since the battle, and there was something soothing about his easy, unselfconscious chatter.

Inferno had spent a couple of hours in the rec room, but had clearly been reluctant to leave the infirmary for long. Silverbolt found him recharging on a spare berth in the med bay. Red Alert was sitting up, still hooked into the direct feed, but now with his optics online and an array of datapads spread around him. He jumped fractionally when the door opened, and directed a piercing stare at Silverbolt for a few seconds as if assessing him for threats, but it was worlds better than his previous panic.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you." Red Alert spoke softly, obviously mindful of Inferno. "And yourself?"

"I'm fine. My brothers not so much, but they'll sleep it off."

Red Alert nodded. "I've been reviewing the security feeds. I didn't know we had that much high grade."

He sounded like he was trying to disapprove - more of the idea that he hadn't known something that was going on in the city than about the high grade itself - but his spark wasn't in it.

"I'm going over the reports from the last few days," he went on. "There is... so much to think about."

"I know." Silverbolt came and sat next to Red Alert's berth. He realised that just the knowledge that Red Alert and Metroplex were both watching over the city again had taken a weight off his shoulders. "I don't have anything to do for a while, if you want some help."

"That would be very much appreciated," replied Red Alert without hesitation. "And... thank you, Silverbolt, for all you've done."

Silverbolt wasn't sure if he meant helping Inferno set up the information feed, or beginning on the repair of the city. For Red Alert, both probably counted equally as personal favours. He picked up a datapad and brought up some of the more reassuring statistics - their supply of raw energon and the many offers of help from their human allies.

For several hours, they went through equipment lists, supplies, and damage reports. Ultra Magnus joined them for a while. Silverbolt half-expected him to reprimand them for working instead of resting, but he seemed to recognise that they could no more sit idle than he could, and merely thanked them. He left them with gigabytes of data on the battle with Unicron and the current situation on Cybertron. Red Alert preferred to continue his work with Autobot City's immediate needs, but Silverbolt turned to the new information with a mixture of eagerness and dread. He wanted to know everything that had happened... but he knew it would not be easy to read.

It was all there, the attack on the moonbases and their destruction, the desperate fight that had wiped out the lines between Decepticon and Autobot. He was achingly aware of how narrowly Skyfire had escaped being killed either on the energon run or by remaining in the bases. He tried not to think too hard about those who had been less fortunate. He moved on to the aftermath. Rodimus had made a hundred decisions in the first few hours, almost seeming to pick the answers at random, but Silverbolt didn't fault any of his choices. Either he was naturally gifted or the Matrix was helping - or both. Silverbolt thought of Bluestreak. He and Hot Rod had been racing partners and friends since Hot Rod arrived on Earth, both of them young and energetic and talkative enough to keep up with each other. If Bluestreak's comm messages were anything like his talk in the rec room, Rodimus was no doubt grateful for the semblance of normality.

He started scanning the lists of Decepticon defectors. There were few names there he recognised. Most of the Earth-based force had been too hardened to their cause to surrender - those who had survived. Optimus had been right, Silverbolt thought sadly - Megatron's attack on the city had been ill-advised, and it had cost him many of his best troops. But against all the odds, it had been unexpected enough to do so much damage before he was forced to retreat...

The list of Decepticon casualties went on - but Silverbolt stopped cold, staring at the name he had not until this moment even thought to look for.

Starscream was dead. There were no details, only a time stamp that placed his death after the battle of Autobot City, but before the arrival of Unicron.

Did... Skyfire know? He hadn't said anything. He might not have seen the casualty lists - but no, Silverbolt's command code enabled him to check the access history. Skyfire's datasequence was there, from just before he'd left Cybertron. He knew. But he hadn't said anything.

Well, but what could he have said? And what could Silverbolt say now? That he was sorry? It would ring hollow. He wasn't sorry. But he found he wasn't particularly glad, either. He'd long since realised that Starscream had already done his damage to Skyfire, and that his continued existence - anywhere in the universe - was a minor inconvenience in comparison. And, despite how much he'd learned to hate the Seeker - despite how he would have liked to return even a tenth of the pain inflicted on Skyfire - Skyfire had loved him once. There had been something in Starscream worthy of that.

Silverbolt lowered the datapad. Red Alert was still preoccupied with his work, but Silverbolt thought, all at once, that he would like to return to being off-duty for a while.

"No, no, go ahead," Red Alert said when Silverbolt asked if he would mind being left to his task. "Thank you for all your help."

A quick comm told him that Skyfire had finished with Perceptor and was in the Aerialbots' common room. That reassured Silverbolt, but he hurried anyway as he left the medbay.

*

When Skyfire turned off the terminal - his last sight of Perceptor being his resigned expression as he was shooed away from his console by Rodimus and three Dinobots who were ready to set off right now - he found that more time had passed than he'd expected. He'd covered everything with Perceptor that he'd wanted to, but then they'd got to talking about plans for Autobot City and the energon refinement system. It would be a huge task to build new machinery, especially with the more ambitious plans Skyfire was drawing up - but he realised that he relished the challenge. This was his home now, and he would do anything and everything in his power to help make it the best it could be.

Perhaps even more importantly, it was Silverbolt's home. Skyfire would never again leave it behind so lightly.

He went out into the corridor and pressed the door chime on the Aerialbots' quarters. After a few seconds, the door opened to reveal Skydive. Behind him, Skyfire could see the other three crowded onto one couch, apparently watching something on the screen that was drawing loud commentary from Slingshot and Air Raid.

"Is Silverbolt back yet?"

"Not yet."

Skyfire hesitated, suddenly and forcefully thrown back to the early days of their friendship - when he hadn't known if he would be welcome without Silverbolt there. But Skydive was already stepping back from the door, and there was no hesitation from Fireflight as he called, "Come and see what we've found!"

He expected them to be watching some human show or other, but whatever was playing was clearly Cybertronian. More surprisingly, nothing was on fire. In fact, everyone seemed to be talking quietly and normally, and Skyfire was momentarily at a loss as to what Air Raid and Slingshot were finding so hilarious.

Then someone on screen raised his voice, and it became apparent that some sort of torrid, forbidden love was taking place between the artillery vehicle and the communications array - in old-style Cybertronian hexadecameter. Air Raid and Slingshot cracked up at the ridiculous dialogue. Skydive gave Skyfire a long-suffering look.

"This is the third one we've watched. They're just getting stupider and stupider. Please tell me this isn't cultural."

"Oh, Primus, no." Skyfire watched, fascinated, as an escalating fight broke a window and several laws of physics. "I remember these. At least half the cast always ended up murdered by the other half, and some of the romances were logistically impossible without bending space-time. Everyone thought they were supposed to be parodies, but the director just kept making more and more... after a few vorns it slowly dawned on everyone that he was taking it completely seriously. And writing all the dialogue. There are a few hundred of them."

"A few hundred?" Skydive collapsed into a chair. "Primus."

"You distract them," Skyfire suggested, "and I'll scramble the transmitter--"

"We can hear you, y'know," said Air Raid cheerfully. "Oh, wow, is he gonna-- he totally did! Five points!"

Skydive sighed and pulled out a datapad, making a note of some kind. "See, after the first one, they came up with a scoring system..."

Skyfire intended to sit and read something on his own datapad - or go and find Silverbolt - but the movie was oddly compelling in its sheer dreadfulness. And it was hard to resist calling out scores once he understood the system. And they were all laughing, and for a while, none of them were thinking about anything more than this.

Silverbolt came through the door just as the grand finale hit an unprecedented triple digit jackpot, accompanied by shrieks and cheers from the Aerialbots. He stopped where he was, looked at his brothers, looked at the screen, looked at Skyfire, and said, "You know what, I'm going back to reading reports with Red Alert."

"It's a trap," Skydive told him, equally deadpan. "Help. Help us please."

"You could leave any time you liked!" said Air Raid. "And I saw you giggling about the anti-gravity eels."

"I don't giggle," retorted Skydive. "And if I didn't stay, you'd all get the scores mixed up and then you'd fight and then I'd be dragged into it anyway..."

Silverbolt ignored the rest of the argument, which seemed likely to descend into even further silliness, and came across the room to where Skyfire was sitting. To Skyfire's surprise, rather than taking another chair, he leaned over, kissed Skyfire firmly, and then settled himself in his lap.

The other Aerialbots pretended not to notice, although Air Raid couldn't entirely hide his smirk.

"Have any of you refuelled?" Silverbolt asked. His plating was warm and his field lapped eagerly into Skyfire's, sending shivers right to his spark.

"Yep," said Fireflight.

"Slingshot brought us some," Skydive clarified.

"Only 'cos Hot Spot told him to," added Air Raid.

"Hey!" Slingshot swatted Air Raid. "I coulda thought of it on my own if I'd known where you guys went..."

"We didn't think Blades would appreciate waking up in here," Skydive said innocently, "and it seemed to be a two-for-one deal back there..."

"Shut up." There was no real heat behind the words. "See if I ever bring you energon again."

"You know what time it is?" Air Raid had seized the remote. "Next movie time!"

"I haven't refuelled today," Skyfire said quietly to Silverbolt. "If you want to go and get some energon?"

"Maybe later." Silverbolt leaned his head against Skyfire's as Air Raid started the movie playing. "I'd like to stay here for now. If that's okay with you."

Skyfire didn't have to tell him in words that it was more than okay with him; he knew Silverbolt could feel it through the interplay of their fields, just as Skyfire could read his contentment and the fading memory of something that had shaken him. He queried silently, but Silverbolt gave the field equivalent of a shake of the head - not now. It's not important. The awareness of how thoroughly open they were to each other was terrifying, but in a different way from the fear he had felt before. This was the fear of a drop onto an unknown planet: exciting, awe-inspiring, and wonderful.

He would have happily spent the rest of the day there, watching ridiculous movies, with Silverbolt in his arms. So it was more or less inevitable when, some time later, Silverbolt grimaced, got off his lap, and said, with a sigh, "Comms..."

*

Silverbolt thought quite seriously about barricading the door as it closed behind them. He leaned against it with a long sigh and an exaggerated slump. Skyfire turned back and smiled sympathetically.

"Do you want me to carry you to the berth?"

That was tempting, just to get Skyfire's hands on him, but Silverbolt's pride rebelled. "No, I'm fine."

Skyfire's quarters were already looking better - either he'd found time to clear up the debris or Metroplex had sent his drones in. Silverbolt walked past Skyfire and collapsed on the berth, offlining his optics in relief. A moment later, the padding dipped as Skyfire sat beside him. He began to stroke Silverbolt's helm lightly, and this time when Silverbolt sighed it was with contentment.

"We'd better recharge while we can," Skyfire said after a moment, an almost-question behind the words.

Silverbolt turned his optics back on, reached up, and pulled Skyfire firmly down to the berth for a long kiss.

"Not yet."

He could feel the immediate answering surge of systems from Skyfire. Moments later, they were tangled together on the berth, finally free to touch each other the way they had been craving all day. Silverbolt took a moment to set his comms to only permit urgent messages - and hoped devoutly that none would come through - before he busied himself exploring all the sensitive junctures of Skyfire's plating. Then Skyfire reached for his wings, very deliberately dragging his fingers along the curves so that Silverbolt shuddered and arched against him. That in turn sent shivers of sensation through Skyfire's field, rippling like water that lapped over Silverbolt's plating.

Skyfire began kissing him over and over, steadily more urgent. Silverbolt didn't even try to hold back the moan that escaped his vocaliser as Skyfire laid his hand on Silverbolt's chest and rubbed his thumb over the spot directly above his spark chamber.

"Can I..." Skyfire stumbled over the words, voice almost inaudible. "Can I see?"

He'd never asked Silverbolt to expose his spark, even after they'd discovered the pleasure of touching the casing. It had seemed to be a boundary he could not bring himself to cross.

Silverbolt stopped making the effort to keep his chestplates closed. The light from his spark spilled out, illuminating Skyfire's face. The raw emotion there made Silverbolt shudder and reach for him, wrapping his arms tightly around Skyfire and kissing him passionately. Everything felt far more intense with his spark exposed. He almost thought he could overload just from this.

Skyfire seemed to have other plans. He edged them apart just enough that he could stroke the very edge of Silverbolt's spark chamber. Silverbolt's optics snapped offline as he arched into the touch, crying out helplessly. Primus, he was right on the edge already... he wanted it to last longer, but oh, he needed this...

But Skyfire had withdrawn his hand and gone still. His field was rippling with such a torrent of emotion that it was like being buffeted by a gale. Silverbolt onlined his optics and reached up to touch Skyfire's face questioningly. Skyfire turned his head into the touch, and Silverbolt realised he was shaking.

"If..." Skyfire caught Silverbolt's hand in his own, pressing it against his cheek. "If we'd been spark sharing, before... if we'd, if we'd been bonded... I would've known you were alive... I, I would have known..."

"Maybe," Silverbolt replied softly, controlling the wild, ecstatic response from his spark to the words. "Maybe not. Bonds aren't always reliable over extreme distances. I... read up on them. A while ago. It might not have made any difference, not after such a short time."

Skyfire drew a shuddering breath, and Silverbolt knew that this had been haunting him. He gently moved his fingers against Skyfire's faceplates, stroking lightly.

"It's okay," he said. "Really. You don't--"

"Can you imagine," Skyfire interrupted, quiet but intense, determined to say this now he'd found the courage, "can you imagine what it's like to open your spark to someone... someone you love... someone you've convinced yourself is... better... than they are... and in that moment of vulnerability, when neither of you can pretend, you have to face who they really are, what they really are, and it's nothing like what you want to believe is true - and you can't hide your horror and disgust and dismay, but worse than that, you can feel the same reaction from him, because he never really wanted you for what you were, only... only for what he thought he could make of you... and even worse again, you know you never really wanted him for what he was, either, but only... only for what you pretended he was by willfully blinding yourself..."

Silverbolt couldn't imagine it, but he could feel it in Skyfire's field - the crawling, sickening reality of such a revelation. He understood then. It was all laid out like a map in Skyfire's field. To him, sharing sparks was a thing that destroyed love and ended joy - a thing that stripped away all pretence and left only pain. He had never experienced the gestalt bond, which had taught Silverbolt how it was possible to be utterly different and yet fit together. And he had never dared share his spark again after the trauma of those handful of efforts with someone whose true self he had never wanted to know.

"Oh, Skyfire," he whispered, moving to pull Skyfire down into his arms and holding him tightly. "I love you. And... I understand. We don't ever have to try, if you don't want to. Or I'll wait as long as you need, until you believe me when I say I already know you by heart, and there is nothing in you that could dismay me."

"I do believe you," Skyfire murmured into his audio receptor. "I... think I started believing you... before... but I didn't-- I couldn't--"

"I know." Silverbolt turned his head so he could kiss Skyfire's helm. "It's okay now."

Skyfire shifted around so that they were kissing fully again. Silverbolt's spark was still pulsing needily, but the intensity had ebbed. He wanted more than anything to bring Skyfire to overload, to smooth away some of the memory of that unhappiness with sheer, uncomplicated pleasure. He found the edge of one of Skyfire's wings and began to massage it in the way he knew Skyfire loved. Skyfire moaned faintly into the kiss, and Silverbolt pressed him down onto the berth, sliding in close so that the energy flickering out of his spark could cascade over Skyfire's plating.

He felt the moment of decision in Skyfire's field a split second before his chestplates opened.

Silverbolt pulled back, looking down at Skyfire for a moment that seemed to last forever.

"I meant it. I can wait," he said. "As long as you need."

"I know, but... I can't." Skyfire reached for him, and there was no hesitation now. "Not any more."

The first touch spark to spark made them both cry out and flinch - it was so intense it was almost painful. Almost, but not quite - and once started, neither of them could stop. Feedback spilled over from both of them, looping around and around, so that Silverbolt could feel Skyfire as if he was Skyfire, and he could feel Skyfire feeling him, and--

Overload hit them both simultaneously, so hard and bright and glorious that Silverbolt felt like he was falling. But there was no fear - not even a trace. And in that moment when they were one, Silverbolt finally did, truly, understand - no matter how well you knew someone, no matter how close you were, the depths of their spark would always be strange and unexpected and impossible for you to truly understand...

... but there was nothing there that could change the way he saw Skyfire. And in the constant echo of feedback, he knew that Skyfire knew it... and he knew that Skyfire saw nothing in Silverbolt he could not accept.

Long after the aftershocks of overload had faded, they stayed close, half-awake and gently looping wordless thoughts and soft-coloured emotions back and forth between them. Silverbolt was happier than he could ever remember being, even in the wake of all that had happened.

"I love you," Skyfire murmured. He didn't need to. Silverbolt could not only read it in his field, he knew it now in the depths of his own spark. But the words were an affirmation, and a promise. "I've missed you so."

"You too," whispered Silverbolt. "I missed you too."

*

The city was starting to look better from the air, even though the interior was still a mess. Red Alert had managed to manually transform Metroplex back into his resting state - to the city guardian's relief - and much of the exterior damage was repaired. Somehow, the appearance of normality made all the difference. Silverbolt could look down on his home and feel that it was once more a place of safety. Although he was going to have to talk to Blaster about the lights on the comm tower - obviously, he'd done what he could with the resources he had available, but the flashing disco panels were... disconcerting. And Air Raid kept trying to 'dance' on his way down to the runway, which Silverbolt could only see ending poorly for all concerned. Speaking of which...

:Try not to crash into the city we've just spent three weeks repairing,: he said as all four of his brothers shot past, dog-fighting with low powered lasers. :Or at least aim for the moat if you do.:

:No-one's gonna crash,: Air Raid replied, spinning dizzyingly out of the way of Slingshot's latest volley. :Relax, Silverbolt.:

:I am relaxing,: Silverbolt protested. :Well, as much as I can when you maniacs keep almost-- watch out for that tower, Fireflight!: He paused. :Are you doing this on purpose now?:

Laughter over the comms confirmed his suspicion. Silverbolt sighed and pulled around in a long curve that would take him a little higher - but he would have been smiling if he'd been in root mode. They could tease him all they wanted - it was worth it to see them wheeling happily through the sky. They hadn't had a chance to fly for pleasure for weeks. He was glad they had an excuse to get out into the clear air for a bit.

He scanned upwards, but there was no sign of Skyfire yet. The sky was shading slowly towards evening and soon the first stars would be out. Silverbolt had to resist the urge to fly higher and higher - just for now, he had no fear of falling. He was too full of anticipation.

Lasers splashed across his undercarriage, tickling the plating. Silverbolt yelped over the comms, prompting more laughter, and banked left in time to see Slingshot racing away.

:Come on, Silverbolt,: said Air Raid. :He's not going to be here for ages yet. Play with us!:

:I wasn't--: Silverbolt stopped, realising that there was no point in pretending when he could feel their knowing amusement through the gestalt bond. :Who's keeping score?:

:Who do you think?: Skydive asked dryly.

Instead of replying, Silverbolt carefully took note of where they all were in the sky relative to him. He couldn't twist as agilely as the smaller jets, but if he lined up right and built up some speed....

His brothers scattered in the face of his sudden, roaring descent. Fireflight shrieked gleefully over the comms, and Skydive got off a few startled shots before he turned and fled.

:Oh, bring it on,: crowed Air Raid, recovering first and turning for the attack. :Bet we can hit you four times before you can hit each of us once.:

:I'll take that bet.:

In the end, it was a close thing - Slingshot and Skydive double-teamed him, and Slingshot's accuracy was only improving with time - but Silverbolt managed to tag each of them in turn. Then, made mischievous by victory, he tweaked the settings on his electrical generator, and snapped off a weak burst of lightning - just enough to make them all yell and laugh as static danced over their plating.

Silverbolt's long-range comms pinged. He opened the channel, still laughing.

:Stormy weather down there?: Skyfire asked innocently.

:No idea what you're talking about,: Silverbolt replied cheerfully. Air Raid and Fireflight were coming in for revenge. He turned and fled, climbing as he went. :Are you in visual range?:

:Look up.:

One of the emerging stars was brighter than the others, and falling rapidly towards them. Silverbolt almost imagined he could feel Skyfire getting closer, although he knew that they hadn't been spark sharing long enough to form a bond yet. He wondered how long it would take before they started to notice, before he could be quietly sure, in the back of his processor, that Skyfire was all right, no matter where he was.

:I see you. Did you get all the supplies?:

:Yes. Wreck-Gar is very efficient, although I wish he'd let someone reprogram his vocaliser. I should be able to get the refinery up and running in a couple of shifts.:

:Great!: Silverbolt dodged a volley of shots from Fireflight. :You'll be hailed as a hero. Sideswipe may try to kiss you.:

:I'll bear that in mind,: said Skyfire gravely, :and take appropriate evasive action. Speaking of which, do you need any help down there?:

Slingshot had circled to cut him off, and Skydive was stalking him several thousand feet below. He was momentarily unsure where Air Raid was, which was never a good thing.

:Well, if you're offering...:

Oh, damn, Air Raid had somehow managed to get above him. In fact, they had him boxed in rather nicely - and Silverbolt was overwhelmed for a moment with pride and admiration. They had come so far - all five of them. He could never have imagined, when they'd first awakened, that this would be their future. And he would never have believed he could be so happy.

And then Skyfire dived out of the evening sky, silver wings flashing golden in the sunset light, and sent Air Raid fleeing out of the way with a surprised yelp.

:That's cheating!:

:That's tactics,: Silverbolt corrected him, spark soaring as Skyfire settled into place off his wing. :Now, about that bet...:

Chapter Text

Silverbolt is falling, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't afraid, but he knows Skyfire is right behind him as the planet below expands to fill his horizon. It's his first re-entry with his new alt-mode. He's still not sure he likes the sensation of flying through the vacuum - the cold and silence are disconcerting - but the heat that flares around him as he plunges deeper into atmosphere is quickly eradicating any lingering chill.

:You should have enough air for your control surfaces to bite on now,: Skyfire says, just as Silverbolt is thinking the same thing. :If we head for the supercontinent to the west, there'll be some good winds to work with.:

:I'm starting to rethink this whole plan,: Silverbolt says, carefully extending his flaps and testing them against the thin atmosphere. He feels a flicker of concern from Skyfire, and quickly continues, laughing, :I'm having visions of Fireflight ending up in the wrong galaxy.:

:He hasn't been properly lost for vorns,: Skyfire points out.

:Yes, but I'm half-convinced that's only because he's been lost everywhere on Earth, Cybertron, and assorted other planets already. If he's halfway between systems and sees something shiny...:

:Hmm. Good point. He was asking me about quasars the other day. I'd better increase the range on his homing beacon.:

They're at what used to be Silverbolt's maximum altitude now, but they still can't see the surface. This rocky planet is several times the size of Earth, with only one massive continent and one world-spanning ocean - with the result that the entire atmosphere is composed almost entirely of thick bands of cloud. From orbit, it could be mistaken for a small gas planet. Apparently, that's what makes it a good practice ground, although Silverbolt suspects that Skyfire also chose it for the benefit of making the whole experience less nerve-wracking for Silverbolt.

Time has done wonders for his fear of heights. He seldom feels more than a twinge, even on clear days - but it is still there, and sometimes rears its head when he's in unfamiliar circumstances. Skyfire knows that. He knew it even before they were bonded, but now he can respond with reassurance almost before Silverbolt has recognised the reaction in himself.

:How are you finding it?: Skyfire asks, as they settle into level flight.

:My ailerons feel odd,: Silverbolt replies, flexing them carefully. :Longer than I'm used to. It feels a little strange not having a cabin, as well.:

:You'll get used to it.:

:I know. What about you?:

Skyfire's new alt-mode is not so very different from his old one, just upgraded to the latest design. Silverbolt loves the new shape of his wings. Ribbons of cloud are streaming past the leading edges as Skyfire keeps pace with him, making Silverbolt want to run his fingers over them.

Skyfire laughs, picking up his sudden distraction, and edges a little closer so that his slipstream washes over Silverbolt's own wings. :I'm finding the shift in weight distribution makes banking harder work, but that's just practice.:

Silverbolt shivers and briefly entertains the thought of abandoning their flight plan entirely. He reluctantly pushes aside the temptation, focusing on the continent now rapidly approaching.

:Where's the plateau?:

:Three degrees south, and a couple of thousand kilometres off yet.:

They fly in silence for a few minutes.

:Am I doing the right thing?: Silverbolt asks quietly. He doesn't really need to. Skyfire is well aware of the conflict that's been going on in his spark, but he suddenly wants to put it into words. :It feels like we're abandoning Earth.:

:We aren't. And you are. Doing the right thing, I mean. I'm sure of it. The Quintessons are as much of a threat to humanity as to us. You and your brothers need to be able to cross space as easily as you can circle the globe, and we need to establish a wider perimeter. And Autobot City is safe enough under Hot Spot's command.:

They're all the same points Silverbolt has made in his own processor. He's grateful to hear them spoken aloud, though.

:I just can't help worrying... that the treaty is some sort of ruse.:

:You're in good company. I think Optimus and Rodimus are the only ones who truly believe it will work. I've never seen Prowl and Jazz agree so completely about anything, let alone with Ultra Magnus backing them up. But...: Skyfire hesitates, then carries on cautiously, :... whatever happened, in Vector Sigma's databanks - whatever it was that caused their sparks to be preserved and brought back with their memories intact - it's changed them. Maybe it's changed the Decepticons too.:

Silverbolt would nod, if he were in root mode. The return of those lost on Earth and Cybertron during Unicron's attack has sent shockwaves through all of Cybertronian society. It was never believed possible for sparks to be restored without undergoing the erasure of memory and experience that resulted in new, fullsparked mechs - like Silverbolt and his brothers. It's probably a very good thing that Ratchet and Wheeljack were among the first to come online; they've been able to set up diagnostics to identify the returned sparks before they awaken, reducing the likelihood of another Skywarp Incident.

It's also probably a very good thing - bizarre as it once would have been to think it - that Starscream found his own way back into existence before the rest of the Decepticons. Silverbolt still doesn't trust him, and he'll never like him, but Starscream, like the others, seems to have changed.

It's hard to put a servo on what exactly that change entails. The returned Autobots are just as Silverbolt remembers them, right down to Ratchet's temper and Prowl's nearly-inaudible sigh when Optimus ignores the safer path - but they have... he doesn't know how else to describe it... a purpose. They are all very clear about that. War between Cybertronians must never happen again. They have bigger concerns: the Quintessons, and, Silverbolt thinks, something else that they won't talk about. Something big, and very far away, at least for now. Something like Unicron, inexorably approaching - but this time, they will not be caught unawares.

He might write it off as paranoia or trauma, if it weren't that Megatron has accepted the Primes' peace treaty without protest, and thus far has stuck to the terms. If it weren't that Galvatron - and they still don't know exactly what's going on there, if Galvatron is a copy of Megatron or vice-versa (and neither Megatron nor Galvatron seems likely to enlighten them) - has agreed to share power. If it weren't that Starscream has returned to Megatron's side, and Megatron has not taken vengeance for his final betrayal, and Starscream has not made any serious move against him. If it weren't that Optimus has refused to take back the Matrix, and Rodimus has not protested, and everyone, even the Decepticons, seems to accept that this is how it should be.

It's as though some sharp edges have been rounded off - as though all those who died once have gained a new perspective. Silverbolt gathers (via Air Raid, who got it via Octane, who got it via Thundercracker) that this does not stop Decepticon briefings from being very... lively... since Starscream has certainly not learned any sort of vocal restraint, and Galvatron seems to enjoy baiting both him and Megatron - but at least as far as he knows, no-one has shot anyone else. At least, not on purpose.

Everything has changed again. His new wings ache a little from the difference in stress lines. He's been working with Skyfire, Sky Lynx, and Red Alert to map out new patrol points for his team and the rest of the Autobot air force. They have more sky to protect now, the great void between worlds, and Silverbolt has half a hundred flyers under his command. If the treaty holds - if the Decepticons can be trusted - they'll soon have even more wings, as the Seekers he once fought take their share of the burden.

Everything has changed, but Skyfire is still by his side, and Silverbolt can feel though the bond that his thoughts have taken much the same path. Everything has changed, but his brothers are almost certainly getting into trouble in their extended downtime right at this moment. Everything has changed, but they still have everything to fight for.

:You should try your lightning out,: Skyfire says suddenly, apropos of nothing.

:Huh? Oh, I suppose so.: Silverbolt reaches for the familiar current. The subroutines are a little different, but the crackle of electricity over his plating is the same. He focuses and sends a bolt spearing downward. :Looks good to--:

The lightning splits and multiplies, dancing from cloud to cloud and in all directions, lashing and sparking and spreading. It's like being inside that enormous plasma globe Slingshot bought him as a joke. Tendrils of blinding white fire whip like spidersilk above and below them. Silverbolt jerks in the air, startled, but Skyfire isn't worried - Skyfire, damn him, is laughing.

:You could have warned me!:

:Sorry.: Skyfire does not sound, or feel, particularly sorry. :Do you like it?:

:I--: Silverbolt realises that for all its ferocity, the lightning is not attempting to ground itself in either of them. He has no idea why, but he's sure Skyfire does. :It's beautiful. What's causing it?:

:The composition of the atmosphere on this world. Sometimes, if a storm starts, the whole planet lights up - from space, it looks like exposed circuitry.:

:That's amazing.: Silverbolt's sensors tell him that they're approaching the plateau where they will land, check their systems, and rest before returning to Cybertron. The lightning is fading out around them. He's tempted to start it up again. :Ready to start the descent?:

:Lead the way.:

They begin to circle, and Silverbolt checks his chronometer. He's allowed ample time for this first part of the exercise; they're well ahead of schedule. Which means they'll be in no hurry to leave the surface. And their time on the planet is technically downtime. Which means he could get his hands on Skyfire's wings...

:You are very distracting,: Skyfire says, and Silverbolt knows it's partly in response to what he's catching through the bond, but partly because he is watching Silverbolt fly ahead of him, and his own thoughts about wings are in very much the same vein. :This alt-mode suits you. You look... you're so beautiful.:

Silverbolt knows he'd say the same if his alt-mode were a box on wheels - that their perception of each other goes much further now than surface appearance - but he also feels the wash of admiration and desire along the bond, and shivers.

Everything changes, again and again, but there is a rhythm to it that provides continuity. Silverbolt is still afraid of heights sometimes, but he is no longer afraid of falling. And neither, he knows with certainty, is Skyfire.

The End

Chapter Text

On Silver Wings
Skyfire/Silverbolt: Soundtrack for 'A Wing and a Prayer'
Listen via Youtube Playlist

PART 1 - Coming Together, Falling Apart

01 - [Skyfire] Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks
02 - [Silverbolt] Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac
03 - [Skyfire] Like a Prayer - Madonna
04 - [Silverbolt] All You Wanted - Michele Branch
05 - [Skyfire / Starscream] Heart Attack - Darren Hayes
06 - [Silverbolt] There's the Girl - Heart
07 - [Skyfire] Fear (Jane's Mix) - Sarah McLachlan
08 - [Silverbolt] SOS - ABBA
09 - [Skyfire] Into The Blue - Thea Gilmore
10 - [Silverbolt] Against All Odds - Phil Collins
11 - [Silverbolt] Believe - Dennis Martin

PART 2 - Coming Apart, Falling Together

12 - [Silverbolt] A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton
13 - [Skyfire] Drought - Vanessa Teng
14 - [Silverbolt] Past the Point of Rescue - Mary Black
15 - [Skyfire] Fallen - Sarah McLachlan
16 - [TF:TM] Moonlight Shadow (Remix) - E-Rotic
17 - [Skyfire] Home - Daughtry
18 - [Silverbolt] Harbor -Vienna Teng
19 - [Epilogue] Annie's Song - John Denver

BONUS AU TRACKS - Fire and Ice

20 - [Silverbolt/Skyfire] Dance with the Devil - Breaking Benjamin
21 - [Skyfire/Silverbolt] No Light, No Light - Florence and the Machine
(+Notes)

PART 1 - Coming Together, Falling Apart

01 - [Skyfire] Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks
But the moment that I first laid eyes… on… him…
All alone on the edge of seventeen.
(Chapters 1-11)

02 - [Silverbolt] Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac
Can you hear me calling out your name?
You know I'm falling and I don't know what to say…
(Chapters 7-10)

03 - [Skyfire] Like a Prayer - Madonna
I close my eyes
Oh God, I think I'm falling
Out of the sky, I close my eyes - heaven help me.

(Chapters 7-10)

04 - [Silverbolt] All You Wanted - Michele Branch
So lonely inside, so busy out there
And all you wanted was somebody who cares
(Chapters 8-12)

07 - [Skyfire / Starscream] Heart Attack - Darren Hayes
Your true colours are clashing
This airplane is crashing, it's smashing
Were you even there?
'Cause I don't think you care
About anyone but yourself now

(Chapters 9-11)

06 - [Silverbolt] There's the Girl - Heart
There's the girl that you were after, feel your heart beating faster
There's the girl that you were after, all this time you can't move past her
There's the girl that you were after, broken glass, complete disaster
There's the girl that you were after - can you say that you don't want her anymore?

(Chapters 9-10)

07 - [Skyfire] Fear (Jane's Mix) - Sarah McLachlan
I have so much to lose here in this lonely place
Tangled up in our embrace
There's nothing I'd like better than to fall
But I fear… I have nothing to give.

(Chapters 11-14)

08 - [Silverbolt] SOS - ABBA
I try to reach for you
But you have closed your mind

(Chapters 15-17)

09 - [Skyfire] Into The Blue - Thea Gilmore
My god, I'm sorry -
I'm falling into blue
My god, I'm sorry -
I'm dragging you down too
(Chapters 16-17)

10 - [Silverbolt] Against All Odds - Phil Collins
How can you just walk away from me
When all I can do is watch you leave?
(Chapter 17)

11 - [Silverbolt] Believe - Dennis Martin
If from where you're standing
You can see the sky above
I'll be waiting for you
If you still believe in love

(Chapters 17-19)

PART 2 - Coming Apart, Falling Together

12 - [Silverbolt] A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton
It's always times like these
When I think of you and I wonder
If you ever think of me
(Chapter 18)

13 - [Skyfire] Drought - Vienna Teng
Once I knew myself
And with knowing came love
I would know love again if I had faith enough

(Chapter 18)

14 - [Silverbolt] Past the Point of Rescue - Mary Black
I wonder if I'm past the point of rescue?
And is no word from you at all the best that you can do?

(Chapter 19)

15 - [Skyfire] Fallen - Sarah McLachlan
But it's one missed step
One slip before you know it
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed...

(Chapter 19)

16 - [TF:TM] Moonlight Shadow (Remix) - E-Rotic
Lost in a riddle that Saturday night
Far away on the other side
He was caught in the middle of a desperate fight
And she couldn't find how to push through

(Chapters 20-21)

17 - [Skyfire] Home - Daughtry
I'm going home, to the place where I belong
And your love has always been enough for me

(Chapter 22)

18 - [Silverbolt] Harbor -Vienna Teng
Sail your sea, meet your storm
All I want is to be your harbor
The light in me will guide you home
All I want is to be your harbor

(Chapter 23)

19 - [Epilogue] Annie's Song - John Denver
You fill up my senses like a night in a forest
Like the mountains in spring time, like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses - come fill me again

(Chapter 23 - Epilogue)

BONUS AU TRACKS - Fire and Ice

20 - [Silverbolt/Skyfire] Dance with the Devil - Breaking Benjamin
I believe in you
I will show you that I can see right through
All your empty lies...

21 - [Skyfire/Silverbolt] No Light, No Light - Florence and the Machine
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew that life could be so violent
No revelation in the light of day
You can't choose what stays and what fades away

Fire and Ice is an AU story I started but sadly never finished (mostly because it would have easily been as long again as A Wing and a Prayer, itself novel-length). The premise is that Starscream was the one to crash on Earth and be trapped in ice, while Skyfire returns to Cybertron and… makes some questionable choices. The first part of the story focuses on Skyfire and Starscream and how horribly bad for both of them their relationship is, even more so now Skyfire has several million years of Being Really Messed Up behind him. But Starscream becomes increasingly obsessed with Megatron, rising like a meteor through the ranks to become the new Air Commander. And then the Aerialbots track the Decepticons to Earth, determined to prove themselves to Optimus Prime - only for Silverbolt to find himself fascinated by - and drawn to - the dim but persistent spark of something worth saving in Skyfire…