Chapter Text
The minute Bumblebee heard the news, he bridged from Earth to Cybertron, meeting Knockout on his way to Nova Terra. They exchange a brief greeting as they rush through the portal and enter Comet , the planet’s main communications outpost.
“Oh, good, you’re here!” Octane stressed, his frame tense with nerves. “When I heard that Moonracer was unavailable, I started to panic! You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me!”
The triple-changer grabbed each mech by the arm and led them away.
“Octane, what’s going on? Is everything alright?” Bumblebee asked, struggling to keep up.
“Oh scrap!” Octane cursed, turning back around and heading for the front door. “I forgot, you’re not a medic! Sandstorm’s gonna kill me if I bring in a non-medic!”
He didn’t wait for the door to fully open before shoving Bumblebee outside.
“Ow,” Bumblebee grunted as he face-planted. Groaning, he pushed himself to his knees. “I know you’re busy, but you could’ve been a bit gentler.”
“Yer just talkin’ to yourself, ya know.”
Bumblebee startled and turned to his left, where Thunderhoof, Saberhorn, and Underbite – with Fracture and his minicons lounging on top – were lined up alongside the building.
“Guess I’m not the only one who was kicked out,” Bumblebee observed. His gaze flicked to Saberhorn, noticing the Insecticon recharging among a pile of data pads. “Poor Saberhorn. The paperwork is running him ragged, I see.”
“You have no idea. Who knew Steeljaw would be so popular?” Fracture commented.
“Speaking of Steeljaw…”
“No news,” Thunderhoof interrupted Bumblebee.
“What about his brother? I don’t see him out here. Did they let him inside?”
Thunderhoof scoffed and rolled his optics.
“He got a job and had to leave.”
That surprised Bumblebee. Phantomjaw promised that he wouldn’t leave his brother’s side. Now he is off planet doing who knows what?
“And before ya ask for details, ya ain’t gettin’ any. He doesn’t discuss jobs.”
“That makes sense, for his line of work,” Bumblebee admitted, not at all happily. A thought occurred just then. “Wait, how do you know any of that?”
“Haven’t you heard? Big bad mob boss here fell for Steeljaw’s brother!” Underbite mused, elbowing Thunderhoof.
“Of course an Autobot wouldn’t know, Underbite,” Fracture pointed out, patting the Chompazoid’s flank. “They’re too busy with the boring stuff to bother paying attention to an Ex-Con rumor mill.”
“ Rumor mill? ” Knockout inquired, appearing out of the blue. “What rumors? Can I hear them? Please, I’ve been dying for worthwhile gossip forever, and with ‘Cons comes primo info!”
“Knockout! How’s Steeljaw? Did the operation go well?” Bumblebee fretted.
“Whoa, calm down, Bee! Everything is perfectly fine! Although, Steeljaw and Ramulus are currently in full protective mode so I highly suggest that you don’t try to see them at this time.”
“Okay, good, duly noted!”
“What about the sparkling?” Fracture’s minicons asked.
Knockout smiled.
His systems were taxed. His entire frame hurt, and the wrap around his abdomen was extremely uncomfortable, but it was there to keep rust particles and other harmful substances from entering and making a mess of his innards. For now, he will ignore it, in light of more important things.
“You did amazing, Steel,” Ramulus praised from beside his mate.
“I always do, Ram,” Steeljaw tiredly chuckled, looking fondly at their newborn through clouded optics. He leaned over and bestowed a loving lick on the soft, light gray protoform.
“Get some rest, Steel. You deserve it,” Ramulus urged. “I promise, I won’t let anything happen while I’m watching.”
Steeljaw wanted to argue. He wanted to stay awake. He didn’t want his sparkling out of his sight, but Ramulus was right. He is exhausted. He won’t be of any use if he doesn’t rest and recover his strength. Steeljaw trusts Ramulus to protect them, and quickly succumbs to recharge.