Chapter Text
Thundercracker is alone. Of course this would happen when he’s alone.
Skywarp and Starscream are off base right now. Among other assorted deceptions meeting with the autobots to discuss (argue about) how they’re going to source the recourses needed to repair their respective ships and get back to Cybertron. Thundercracker hadn’t gone with them. He hasn’t been feeling well.
Thundercracker stands in front of a mirror. It was mounted rather haphazardly to the wall. The room didn’t come with a mirror originally. When they’d first crashed here and it became apparent that these were their permanent living quarters for the time being. Starscream had complained incessantly about having to go all the way to the washracks to check his finish.
Eventually Skywarp had gotten fed up with him and stolen mirror from some squishy store and bolted it the the wall of their quarters. There are cracks in the corners because he drilled the bolts directly through the glass of the mirror like a heathen. But the reflection is mostly unobscured. Good enough for Starscream at least.
Thundercracker had his spark chamber bared. Optics glued to the reflection of his spark. He watched two newsparks circle his own. Thundercracker grit his jaw so hard his denta ached. He could feel the metal of his palms and fingers warping with how tightly he’s clenching his servos.
There are two newsparks orbiting his.
Last night there were three.
Thundercracker doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there. Desperately watching, desperately hoping he’s just counting wrong. Watching the two sparklings slowly circle. When he finally snaps out of whatever daze he’s in his chronometer shows it’s been joors.
An awful choked feeling crawls up his throat as coolant blurs his optics. It’s not uncommon for kindlings to reabsorb early on. Usually it happens before the sparked mecha even realizes they were carrying.
He should’ve expected this. He’s malnourished and exhausted from years of war and improper fueling and poor living conditions. Primus. Why did he let Skywarp talk him into this? Obviously Megatron being able to carry a healthy sparkling to term was a fluke. He’s so stupid. They should’ve waited. Why don’t they wait?
He’s barley three decacycles along. If anything, a traitorous voice in his mind reasons, he should be grateful. Seekers kindle in trines. If he was a grounder he would’ve lost the carriage all together. He still has two sparklings.
Thundercracker doesn’t feel grateful. He feels like a failure. This is his fault. It must be. He must’ve done something wrong to lose the sparkling but even as he wracks his mind he can’t name any specific thing that could’ve caused this.
His trinemates aren’t answering his comms. They’re probably distracted, busy with negotiations or whatever. He clamps his end of the trinebond shut. He doesn’t want them to feel this. Doesn’t want them to experience the anguish drowning his spark.
Thundercracker’s wings shudder in grief as he sobs. He snaps his spark chamber shut. He can’t look anymore. Couldn’t even if he still wanted to. His vision too overwhelmed by tears.
He can’t be alone right now. It doesn’t matter who. Someone. Anyone. Please. He can’t do this alone.
And Skywarp still isn’t answering his fragging comm!
Thundercracker takes a shuddering breath. His vents are working overtime. He scrubs the coolant from his face plates as he makes his way out the door. He’s probably just making it worse. He doesn’t even want to imagine how terrible he looks right now.
As the elite trine they have a separate habisute from the rest of the air force. Starscream has his own separate quarters too as the SC but he uses them as a place to hide experiments that violate the safety requirements the labs are held to. Those requirements are lax to begin with so you know whatever Starscream has in there is a real hazzard. (His safety procedures have always left something to be desired.) If Starscream’s not in Megatron’s berth he’s in Thundercracker and Skywarp’s. Clingy bastard.
Thundercracker makes his way to the air barracks. His em field clamped tight to his frame. He doesn’t know what expression he’s wearing but whatever it is it must be threatening. What few mechs he crosses paths with scramble to stay out of his way.
Thankfully Thundercracker manages to make it to the air barracks without breaking down. His real goal isn’t the barracks themselves but the adjoined washracks.
They were beat to slag when the Nemesis crashed on this stupid planet and don’t work anymore. Overtime a communal nest has cropped up in them. A place for seekers who are separated from their trines for whatever reason to be close to others. Conflicting shifts, recovering in the medbay, captured by autobots. That last one shouldn’t be a problem anymore now that the war is over.
Communal nests used to be common in cohort habsuites. Before Vos fell. Thundercracker doesn’t frequent this nest. It reminds him too much of the before. Of mecha that aren’t here anymore. His creator trine, his forge siblings. The other seekers that made up his flock. Innocent casualties in a war they didn’t start.
Seekers trine for a reason. They don’t do well when isolated. Thundercracker doesn’t know who started the nest. No one really does. At least, no one will fess up to it. For all he knows Starscream made it. It doesn’t really matter.
He stops in the doorway. There are three mecha inside. Dirge, which is unsurprising. Nova-Storm. And why is Astrotrain in here?
It’s not who he would’ve chosen to seek out but given the alternative is being alone it’ll have to do.
They freeze at his presence. He doesn’t usually spend time in the communal nest. It’s not a great nest material wise. Made largely of scavenge or stolen mesh and tarps and such. Thundercracker would usually rather be by himself if he can’t be with his trine. He can’t be alone right now though. Just thinking about being alone right now threatens to overwhelm him with grief.
Dirge shuffles awkwardly from were he sits on the padded floor of the nest. “Thundercracker. Did you need somthing?” He asks nervously, his optics flitting sideways to Astrotrain and back to Thundercracker. So it’s his fault that the triple changer has crammed himself into the already cramped room. Thundercracker glares at Astrotrain but it’s halfhearted. He doesn’t have the energy to kick him out. To argue with him about how having wings doesn’t give him the right to be in seeker spaces. They don’t have that many on the ship to begin with.
Thundercracker screws his optics shut as they well with coolant again. He lets himself collapse strutlessly into the nest. The mesh blankets, cushions, and the odd occasional organic cloth taking the brunt of his fall. His tight hold on his em field wavers as he curls into himself. He can hear the other occupants of the room startle at the anguish in his field. He drags a blanket over his helm not wanting to be seen crying even as sobs wrack his frame.
Cue panic. The others have no idea what to do with him. Thundercracker is the reasonable one. The one member of his trine that isn’t erratic and irrational and emotionally unstable. He can hear them arguing in panicked voices. He doesn’t bother to listen to what they’re saying.
They probably think someone died. Someone did die. Thundercracker sobs harder. Does it still count as dying if they were never technically alive? His spark aches. His vents are making an awful wheezing sound. The blanket he’s suffocating himself under isn’t helping.
Someone awkwardly pats his shoulder. Their field cringes away were it brushes his. Uncomfortable mingling with his when he’s broadcasting so much pain. It’s not what Thundercracker wants but in the absence of his trine it’s better than nothing.
Despite everything Thundercracker finds himself dozing. Drifting in and out of recharge. At some point someone new joins the nest. The newcomer lies down beside Thundercracker and wraps him in their arms.
His optics squint open. Thundercracker startles, wincing away from Sunstorm before his processor fully boots up.
Shockwave found a way to reinforce Sunstorm’s spark chamber. He no longer blasts everyone within range with unfettered radiation. Most still regard Sunstorm with a learned wariness even now that he can fully control when he’s irradiated.
Sunstorm’s optics search his own. “Are you unwell trine brother?” He’s not Starscream but having been onlined in the same batch their frames are close to identical even after adjustments to their armor and repairs and such over the course of the war.
Thundercracker presses his face into Sunstorm’s neck cables. It’s wrong. He’s too warm, much warmer than the average cybertronian. The smell of his polish is wrong too. But with his optics closed Thundercracker can almost pretend it’s Starscream here with him.
“Thundercracker?” Sunstorm’s voice is soft and patient, far more patient that Starscream would’ve been.
:: I’m sparked :: Thundercracker comms him. He can’t help the way his em field shudders mournfully.
:: Is this not a joyous occasion? :: Sunstorm, thankfully answers over comms.
Thundercracker’s already made a spectacle of himself with his little meltdown. Gossip spreads like an untreated rust infection through the decepticon ranks. The rumor mill is probably already having field day over him. He doesn’t need to add fuel to the fire.
:: One of the newsparks reabsorbed. :: He doesn’t feel as grief stricken as he did earlier. Just numb and fuzzy. Like his helm is full of static.
It’s an ill omen. Seekers come in threes. Having just two doesn’t bode well. It’s largely superstion but trines are the cornerstone of seeker society. In fact some religious teachings look down on trineless seekers. There’re incomplete, irreverent. Primus forged them in trines for a reason.
Thundercracker’s never put much stock in religion but maybe confiding in Sunstorm of all mechs was a bad idea. Sunstorm quickly proves him right.
:: Primus gives trials to us all ::
“I will fucking kill you.” The human expletive is sharp on his glossa. Thundercracker’s engine rumbles with the threat of his outlier. A sonic boom in this tiny room would be devastating. To everyone here including Thundercraker himself. He can’t bring himself to care.
Sunstorm’s field ripples apologetically and with the tiniest sliver of fear. “That was an insensitive thing to say wasn’t it?”
Thundercracker doesn’t bother answering him. Stupid religious fanatic. Sunstorm shifts away from Thundercracker. “Perhaps I should fetch your trinemates.” He swiftly makes his escape. Coward. Thundercraker rolls over.
At least he’s not sad anymore now he’s just slagged off.
Sunstorm must follow through on finding Thundercracker’s trinemates because less than a joor after he leaves Skywarp finally answers his fragging comms.
Thundercracker ignores him. He doesn’t even know how he would explain this anyways. And maybe he’s feeling just a little bit petty.
Thundercracker hears Skywarp arrive in the air barracks. “Thundercracker? Where are you?” He’s at the door to the nest quickly. His wings set stiff and anxious.
Dirge, who’s apparently been the one siting beside him awkwardly patting his shoulder the whole time, sags in relief. “Oh thank Primus. I’m free.”
Thundercracker glares at him engine snarling. Dirge flinches “And that’s my cue to go.” He chuckles nervously. Cowards all of them. He doesn’t know when the other two left but now it’s just him and Skywarp.
Skywarp kneels next to Thundercracker, frowning. Skywarp’s optics meet his with concern. “TC what’s going on? You’ve got the trinebond all closed off, I can barley feel you.” His brow furrows in confusion. His em field fills with worry. “Did… did something happen?”
His servo lands on Thundercracker’s pauldron. His frown growing more severe as he takes in Thundercracker’s disheveled face plates. “Were you crying? What-“
Thundercracker sits up stiffly. Taking a moment to flex his wings. The way he’s been lying on them has made them go numb. He’s stalling. Thundercracker can’t bring himself to meet Skywarp’s gaze as he asks. “Where’s Starscream?”
“He went to go put the bitty down for a nap.” There’s an awkward pause as Skywarp waits for him to answer, for him to explain himself. But there’s nothing for Thundercracker to say. Nothing he wants to say.
Eventually Skywarp continues. “Let’s go back to our habsuite.” He gathers Thundercracker in his arms. Holding him more carefully than he usually does when he warps with him.
With the familiar sensation of a warp washing over him, Thundercracker and Skywarp are back in their habsuite. Thundercraker sits heavily the edge of the berth.
Skywarp studies Thundercracker warily. “I’m gonna get Starscream.” His voice is tinged with worry. Thundercracker nods blankly and Skywarp is gone with another warp.
Thundercracker’s mind drifts. It doesn’t seem like very long until Skywarp returns with Starscream but who knows. His chrono has been out of wack all cycle.
Skywarp regards him anxiously. Brows furrowed, derma set in a frown. Serious looks bad on Skywarp. He’s never supposed to be this serious. He’s supposed to goof off and make faces behind Starscream’s back. Thundercracker bites his derma, his optics fluttering in a vain attempt to hold back his tears.
Starscream is the picture of apathy. It’s not genuine. It’s never is with Starscream. It hurts Thundercracker to think about how Starscream was forced to learn it’s safer to pretend to feel nothing than to express his pain.
If he had the trinebond open he would be able to tell how Starscream really feels. But he can’t do that. Can’t do that to either of them. Just because he’s suffering doesn’t mean they have to suffer with him.
Starscream’s voice is terse when he speaks. “Thundercracker, what’s going on?” The only betrayal of his unease the way he intensely focuses on Thundercracker.
He can’t tell them. Can’t say it out loud. Can’t bring himself to open the trinebond. His trinemates are both worried now. Though Starscream is better at hiding it than Skywarp.
Thundercracker takes a shaky breath. Maybe it would just be easier if he just showed them. He tilts his helm up. His optics locked onto the ceiling. He can’t look at them.
His chest plates open with a click. Neatly folding out of the way to expose his spark chamber. There is a tense silence as they watch him. It takes a moment for them to realize what’s wrong. He can tell exactly when they do though because Skywarp gasps and lunges for Thundercracker.
Skywarp all but tackles him onto the berth. His arms wrapping around him like a vice. “You gotta let us in Thundercracker.” He pleads. His voice is wobbly. Like he’s trying to hold steady. Trying to be strong.
Thundercracker clenches his jaw, screwing his optics shut. The berth dips with Starscream’s weight as he joins them. He sets a servo on Thundercracker’s helm. His voice is soft when he speaks. “Open the trinebond.”
Thundercracker is shaking or maybe it’s Skywarp he can’t tell with how tightly he’s holding him. “You don’t understand.” His voice is hoarse and raw.
“So show us.” Starscream murmurs. And Thundercracker folds.
It hurts. It hurts a lot. Feeling them, feeling him. It creates a feedback loop that builds into itself. It’s awful. But there’s a small selfish part of him that’s happy they understand.
Thundercracker is tired. He’s exhausted really. Here, finally safe with his trinemates, he can’t help but start to slip into recharge.
Things will be better when he wakes. Or they might be worse. At least he won’t be alone.