Chapter Text
The ending cycle of a deep defrag came unpleasantly. Consciousness came first before his systems had righted themselves. It was not the light of dawn that greeted him or the ping of an alarm, but relentless paranoia which would without fail rouse him many joors too early. There was no logical reason for the warning pings his systems sent him. It was an error with no discernible source but without precedent, every cable underneath his plating coiled, anticipating the unseen threat that would never come.
The medic called it: a sign of recovery.
Soundwave called it: inconvenient.
He rose, backstrut aching. Swung his legs over the edge of the berth, and grappling blindly, he felt for the mask on the table. Nimble digits curled around a smooth sheet of metal and deftly fixed it into place over his faceplate. He sucked in a breath. The medical protocol for the device unhelpfully reminded him of the expiration date for the thing. Last megacycle. Along with the recommendation to ease out of wearing the device. A notification which he dismissed. He had already tinkered with much of the programming to allow for the duration of longer use and possibly indefinite function but had yet to find the time to dismantle the core medical software. A shame really because it was the one part of the device he absolutely despised.
The lights in the domicile were off. Soundwave swiveled his helm towards the window. Outside the city lights appeared dampened against a twilight sky. Smothered by fog and a perpetual dreariness that seemed to be a staple for this end of Polyhex. The city was by no means a place of affluence. Though all but unofficially declared by the current overlord, a stark divide existed between the wealthy and what he himself had labeled as “ the other .”
With aching slowness, he pushed himself to his pedes and began the daily routine. First on the agenda: helm count.
The domicile did not offer many places to hide. It was a simple matter to peer over shelving and under furniture. But it was even simpler to circle the space once, and with some focus feel where they were. However, it was more difficult to feel a recharging mech, regardless of size. Their emotional cortex was quiet, watered down, and the soft beating of sparks easily melted into the ambiance of the larger city. Pinpointing recharging symbionts then, was like wading blindly through a pool of oil searching for a key card. Do-able, but you wouldn't find it until it found you.
Alternatively, he could send a ping to their com's or send an inquiry through the light tether of the symbiotic link, but that would disturb their recharge cycle. He felt less inclined to do as much.
Laserbeak remained docked, interlocked in the security of his chassis, where she preferred to be, and thus did not need finding. As for the rest... he found Frenzy under the recliner, Ravage on the shelf above his desk, and Rumble was...
Soundwave came to a halt in the middle of the room. He tilted his helm upwards.
Rumble had gotten himself into the bowl of the lighting fixture. He seemed content to remain there.
He felt nothing but content from each, though the pang of hunger was ever present. It was slight, peckish. It would have to do for now.
Having confirmed a visual sighting of each symbiont, Soundwave turned his attention to the second task of the cycle: confirming the work schedule for the next orn. Logging into the interweb console revealed little change since his last confirmation. The head archivist had scheduled a club meeting at the start of the next lunar-cycle and had requested the presence of all clerks to ensure the library was in outstanding order. All but two, including himself, would be released from duty the joor before so the club members would not be disturbed. If they stayed they would not be paid overtime. Soundwave had no plans to stay without receiving credits for it. So that was that.
Rumble and Frenzy were booked for a delivery that would take them across the city mid-solar-cycle to dusk. Ravage had not booked her time in, as typical. The feline did odd service jobs. Her hours were inconsistent but she would be agitated if she did not bring something home at the end of the orn. Where she worked freelance; the twins were registered as one employee under the courier company they worked for. Symbionts were not considered individuals in the optics of the law. They were instead seen as extensions of their deployer. They had no rights individually, but “shared” any privilege their host held. The one benefit to this was that it enabled their group to hold multiple jobs at once when otherwise they would be unable to. This fact alone had saved them from living on the street on several occasions.
He scrolled through the new feeds for two more dull joors before the alarm alerted him it was time to get ready. He stretched, worked out the kinks in his neck cables and made his way to the wash rack.
Careful not to wake the small army recharging at his doorstep, he slid the door closed with a soft click. In contrast, the rumble of the tap sounded too much like a monsoon. The spatter of the solvent a hollow roaring whoosh . Within the walls, the plumbing rattled and groaned. Soundwave was always careful not to tune-in to the presence of the mecha both below and above his domicile but he was nevertheless aware they would be awoken by the sound. It was not his intention, but it would happen regardless. This was the reason he risked waking the symbionts to have his bath. Another complaint to the landlord would not be beneficial at this stage. The rent was overdue and the wrecker had a tendency to tack on unnecessary fees.
Finally, after what seemed like far too long the soothing solvent oils filled to the brim of the tub. He switched the tap off, the clattering roar of the faucet dying down to a shallow drip.
Soundwave lowered himself slowly into the bath. Each stiff joint wound tight, tense against the heat of the solvent. Despite this, as he sank in the heat pried away some of the stiffness. The soothing oils loosened the building tension in his frame, and did wonders for the constant ache of his fuel tanks. He slid in deeper until he lay on his back, warm solvent reaching just below his chin and completely concealing his throat. Nimble digits coiled around the rim of the tub, hold tightening for a beat before stiffly releasing. He vented softly, feeling the bubbles rise around his frame.
There was peace for several Primus sent moments. Time that Soundwave used to keep his processor blank- free of thoughts, aches, and pains. A state of meditation was reached easily, settled deep into the infrastructure of his being until with a click the door slid open with a sense of finality and the patter of small pedes met his audials.
“Can we join you boss-bot?” Asked the red minibot. Frenzy had sense enough, at least, to not jump in right away. A blessing he was not often graced with. Rumble peered around the door frame, little frame silhouetted by the light of the chamber beyond. His red tinted visor shone a near white, and the damnable little mech was grinning.
No, Soundwave thought, You may not. He did not say this aloud. He did not express this through his end of the symbiotic-link. He exuded an air of indifference, pointedly ignoring the now rapidly growing company.
Over the edge of the tub, Rumble peered over; he was just tall enough so that he could look over the edge without standing on the tips of his pedes, but otherwise would need significant assistance actually climbing in. He shot Frenzy a grin, cupped warm oil in his servo and splashed his brother. His aim held true and Frenzy met his challenge with a snicker and a retaliatory splash.
Soundwave sank deeper, knee plates emerging from below the solvent. The oil now reached the lower half of his mask.
The clattering of an empty cube landing on the floor signaled the arrival of the last and oldest member of the set. Atop the sink, Ravage sat herself down on her haunches, her tail wrapped elegantly around her paws. She lifted one paw and began grooming herself. Amusement fluttered across their bond, but Soundwave could not sink any lower into the tub to avoid it.
“Don’t get the solvent on the floor. It’ll only erode the tiles further.”
In unison, Rumble and Frenzy turned to flip her off.
“Eh, it’s not like the landlord would notice!” To prove his point Rumble kicked at a crack. It chipped. “See what I mean?”
Ravage shook her head. She dangled her front half over the rim of the sink and something else fell.
Seemingly finally awoken by the activity, Laserbeak chimed a request to deploy. It didn't matter that she would be deploying under several gallons of solvent- she wanted to join in the fun.
Resigned to his fate, Soundwave granted her request. He regretted it almost immediately.
Laserbeak flapped her way to the surface with all the grace of a falling titan. Her tiny claws scrambled for purchase on the smooth rim of the tub with little success, wings spraying droplets of solvent across the wash rack. A gurgling chirp left her as she slid halfway back in. With no dignity or grace left to spare she finally found a precarious position straddling the side, claws gripped tight, where the little flier then tried and failed to find her balance. She lost grip on the slippery surface and fell back in.
It was only by reluctant guide of his servo, her little claws wrapped around his digits that pulled her free from the oil and set her on a suitable perch of the widest section of the rim. She looked frazzled from the ordeal, dripping wet, pride only soothed by the puff of her plating- as proud as all birds could ever be.
It could not save her from the twins’ sense of humor. By the end of the spectacle, Rumble and Frenzy were roaring with laughter.
Pride only just salvaged, Laserbeak squawked with indignation and gave them both an almighty splash. Their squeals of laughter seemed to only reach a new pitch.
Rumble turned to Frenzy with a gleam in his optic. “Give me a lift will ya? We'll show her whos boss!” Frenzy grinned and dropped down so Rumble could climb onto his back. With a final shove, one brother was in with a splash.
Frenzy reached over the rim of the tub, arms outstretched and servos grasping at the air. “Hurry up Rumble! You're hogging the good stuff.” A shout, laughter and another splash soon followed.
Soundwave stared up at the ceiling, tracing the cracks with his optics and imaging constellations in the particles of dust which fell from it. White, Grey, and chalk. Despite his best efforts, the tension wrecking his cabling returned with a vengeance. The oil had cooled significantly as well, and Soundwave considered it about time to refuel.
Nimble digits once again tightly wound around the edge of the tub and achingly, Soundwave hauled himself upright. At once all three symbionts squealed. Cries of “Get back Rumble! The cityformer raises again! ” and “It's the lunar-cycle of the fallen!” met his audials. He strolled past Ravage, grabbing a towel as he went. The large feline dropped down from the sink with a thump and followed along at his heels, weaving between his steps with dangerous grace. To his credit, he did not trip once this time. Ravage would have to try harder.
The dispenser and all the necessities for processing, storing and seasoning energon were located on a single countertop, in the far corner of the room. Nestled out of the way behind a roundtable. While Soundwave examined their reserves, Ravage took her place on the table.
If he divided the portions evenly, it would refuel each symbiont approximately 25%, leaving 15% intake for himself. Following this, what they had now would keep the party functional until the end of the mega-cycle. In the meantime, Soundwave would have to find a temporary, alternative source of work to make up for the loss. With all their resources going into overdue rent and medical bills, it meant they would be skirting by skid plates to make ends meet. It was a cycle it seemed. Every few deca-cycles just when things were looking up, Soundwave would find himself with yet more debt to pay. It was endless.
He poured Ravage a cube and set it before her. He waited for a beat, to confirm she was consuming what she needed before he set out the rations for the other three. This done, Soundwave consulted the clock. Everything was running precisely on time. Good.
He sent a warning ping to Laserbeak and the twins regardless. Informing them their fuel had been set out and he needed to leave soon. He received protests in reply. Soundwave would not fall for the bait. he waited for only two kliks and both the twins and Laserbeak emerged from the wash-rack. They had just enough time to scarf down their cubes before it was really time to get moving.
Soundwave held the door open, watched his little army as one by one they filed out the door. Laserbeak circled him twice, requesting permission to dock, which he readily gave. The door was locked, the key card filled away and off to work they went.