Work Text:
“Shockwave- you busy?” two separate voices asked, the clips edited together near-seamlessly. Shockwave set his experiment-in-progress down gently, and turned towards the entrance of his lab.
Soundwave was, as ever, just far enough inside for the door to shut behind him. Of their entire faction, his conjunx was one of a statistically insignificant number who actually respected the fact that most of his experiments were extremely dangerous.
“Nothing urgent.” Soundwave shifted in place, and Shockwave noticed his symbionts were absent. Hopefully the minicons weren’t causing too much trouble, wherever Soundwave had left them. “What is the matter?”
“Shockwave- have you ever- considered- kindling?” another smattering of voices, a different inflection of his name.
Well, he certainly hadn’t been expecting that question. “Not recently.” he admitted, gesturing Soundwave closer. “What brought this on?”
Soundwave flashed a clip up on his face-screen, and Shockwave’s optic widened as he registered the results of his conjunx’s latest spying operation. Newbuilds, still a soft silver, their kibble barely distinct. Autobot badges stamped on them, one and all, as well as the grown mech teaching them to throw a punch. Shockwave lifted his gun arm, and Soundwave tucked close against his side, face-screen flickering to a much older recording. Old enough that the Laserbeak cradled in his arms was still covered in the same fragile metal as the Autobot newbuilds, old enough to predate several of Soundwaves’s more notable scars.
Shockwave lifted his hand, and guided Soundwave’s helm down to rest on his chassis, his conjunx’s screen going dim as Shockwave ran fingers along the back of his helm, the simple touch helping Soundwave relax. “I am not opposed to kindling.” he said after a short stretch of silence. “It would, of course, be logical to pass down such superior coding as ours. Even accounting for mutative variables, the result of combining our CNA would be a magnificent Decepticon.”
Soundwave pointedly tipped his helm towards the experiments set up on the other side of the lab, then turned back to Shockwave and displayed a ⛒ symbol on his screen. “Some things are better done the old fashioned way.” Megatron growled from Soundwave’s screen, and yes Shockwave knew that the menace had all been directed at Optimus Prime when their Lord said that- the bare-knuckled brawl which followed had certainly been old-fashioned- but it still made his plating prickle and attempt to fluff up to have it directed at him.
“Noted.” he cleared his vocaliser queue. “Let me put my project in stasis, and we will have plenty of time to discuss specifics.” Shockwave knocked the edge of his helm against Soundwave’s, and his conjunx only sulked a little when he pulled away. It was the work of a bare few kliks to get his active experiment stabilised; he may have to start over, if he’d missed something important speaking with Soundwave, but Lord Megatron never questioned the cause of any delays.
Once the workbench was clear, he fetched a pair of stools and a spare datapad. Soundwave sat, and Shockwave took a moment to admire the elegant efficiency of his action. Economy of movement in the metal, truly a superior mech, just like Lord Megatron. He sat as well, and powered on the datapad. “You just got off shift, yes?” he asked, though of course he knew Soundwave’s schedule. It was only logical, to be able to locate his conjunx during the day, should his presence be required. The Nemesis was a sizable ship, after all, and having to ask directions every time would be inefficient, and thus, illogical.
Soundwave nodded, and a moment later the lab door locked. Shockwave sat up straighter, and his field pulsed warm as his conjunx reached up to remove his mask.
There was much debate, within their faction and aboard the Nemesis in particular, over what laid beneath Soundwave’s mask. Lord Megatron had seen, and of course Soundwave’s symbionts as well, but Shockwave was the only other one who had been granted such privilege. According to Megatron, Soundwave had been handsome, once. His Lord was wrong about very few things, but that was one of them.
Shockwave lifted his hand, and ghosted his fingers over the mess of welds and raw wires around his intake, the thin slit of crystal which protected what remained of his original optics, the coarse derma just below his helm crest where whatever had maimed him hadn’t quite managed to rip it off. By most conventional standards, Shockwave was aware his conjunx’s true face would be considered repulsive. Personally, he found it enthralling. Soundwave’s field shivered against his, and he moved his hand to touch only the plating to the side of his conjunx’s face. That was only a normal amount of sensitive, and thus safe to touch.
“I don’t want them to be perfect.” Soundwave whispered, lifting a hand to lay over Shockwave’s. “I want them to be ours.”
“Of course.” Shockwave agreed readily, unlocking the datapad with the edge of his gun barrel and tapping in No Modification. “Would you like to carry them?” he asked, glancing at the connection points for the symbionts Soundwave had created with previous, less devoted partners. There was space for another one or two, he was sure, though Soundwave would of course be the one who determined where to install the connection point once the newbuild was old enough to choose their alt.
“Yes.” Soundwave sighed, scooting his stool closer to lean against Shockwave. “But I shouldn’t.”
Shockwave almost asked why, then his field flushed with comprehension contrition acceptance. Despite being their spymaster, Soundwave was one of the most visible Decepticons within the faction, and the Autobots surely kept as close an optic on him as they were able. He was Lord Megatron’s most trusted advisor, and to be seen carrying would incite rumours. Either that he had gotten where he was via seduction- a thoroughly illogical proposal, but Shockwave knew well how foolish the rank and file could be- or that his loyalties were somehow divided.
Not to mention, Soundwave was an active field agent on top of being their head of communications. There were missions Megatron sent him on which were above even Shockwave’s clearance, and Shockwave was their lead scientist! “You could do it.” Soundwave suggested, just as Shockwave came to that conclusion himself. “You barely leave your lab anyways.”
“And my lab is one of the most secure places there is.” Shockwave agreed. Even if word somehow did get out, the Autobots would never dare attack the Nemesis directly. Plus, he would be able to continue his work even when his T-cog locked up to protect the unemerged hatchling. Soundwave picked his mask back up, and once it clicked into place he displayed a bright smiley face, resting his hand over Shockwave’s inert forge.
“There’s only a 27% chance of any newspark surviving to a stable state.” he reminded his conjunx. “And less than that of generating one in the first place.”
Soundwave tilted his helm, and the roil of heat in his field spoke louder than any words. An excuse to drag Shockwave from his lab for vigorous interface on a regular bassi was hardly a deterrent. The door to his lab unlocked, and a moment later whooshed open to admit an off-balance Starscream.
“Oh, don’t tell me you two are conspiring.” the Air Commander griped, picking himself up as if he hadn’t been attempting to listen to them through the door. “We had a meeting, Shockwave.”
Soundwave stood, stretched, and tucked his field in so close to his plating Starscream didn’t even look as he passed by towards the exit. And now Shockwave had to wait the rest of his shift before he could return to their habsuite and see what it was his conjunx had planned. Whatever it was, Soundwave knew him well enough it was bound to be enjoyable.
---
Logically, Shockwave had known what to expect of his first time forging a newspark. As such, the persistent lack of energy, emotional volatility, random cravings, and boosted libido were all things he had accounted for when projecting his productivity over the forging period. But Primus it was getting annoying!
He had thought that the libido would be the easiest to deal with, as Soundwave was a very attentive conjunx who was utterly devoted to ensuring their hatchling would emerge fully functional. He had forgotten to account for the fact that an active forge did not operate on a timetable. More than once, he’d nearly overheated at his workbench before Soundwave arrived, and each time he’d had to redo a large portion of whatever experiment he’d been attempting to work on at the time.
Another symptom, which hadn’t been included in what literature he’d been able to locate, was reduced processing power. Apparently, the processes which kept a forge operational took a not-inconsiderable amount of RAM, which left him slogging through equations and write-ups he should have been able to do in a fraction of the time.
Lord Megatron was adept at coding, perhaps he would find value in the thought of creating a virus which simulated similar effects in its victims. If he had to fight anyone with his processor as laggy as it was now, he would surely lose. Autobot rank and file would fall in droves, trying to do battle under a similar handicap, and mimicry of a natural process could possibly stymie the frame’s natural antivirus. He should write that down, where had he put the datapad?
After a few frustrating kliks of searching, he located it next to some beakers, and realised he’d entirely forgotten what he meant to write down. Something for Lord Megatron?
“Closing time.” a half-familiar voice said behind him, and he turned- slowly, mindful of his shifted centre of gravity- to see Old Maccadam himself on Soundwave’s screen.
“No?” he looked from Soundwave to the desktop timer attached to one of his experiments. He’d started it just after his fuel break, and by that measure there was still a full cycle left until his end of shift. His own internal chronometer was unreliable at the moment, with how laggy his entire processor was, and the external one had been the solution which worked best.
Soundwave’s screen flashed up- that couldn’t be the current time, it was half a cycle past the end of his shift! But Soundwave lying to him would be illogical, there was no benefit to either of them for taking him off work early. “I need to set everything up for overnight.” he informed his conjunx, and Soundwave nodded, waiting patiently as Shockwave did so. It took far longer than he’d expected, but Soundwave voiced no complaint, only coiled a tentacle around his chassis as support when they left the lab together.
It had taken longer than he anticipated for his forge to become visibly enlarged, a sure sign that the newbuild would take after their sire in size if not frametype, but at this point it was undeniable. Undeniable, and cumbersome, slowing his every step, forcing him to adjust his balance every morning as his forge accumulated more and more protometal within and around it. The cables along his spinal strut cramped regularly from the forced positioning, and everything from his pelvic assembly down existed in a state of vague to acute aching.
The transformation of their berth, over the course of his carriage so far, had been gradual in its implementation but drastic in its results. Where Soundwave had sourced the fabrics, Shockwave had no idea, but the carefully arranged piles of them supported his frame perfectly when Soundwave helped ease him down. The enriched fuel which was set in perfect reach of his proboscis was sweeter than he usually liked, but his frame needed more coolant than usual, so he didn’t complain.
Soundwave’s symbionts disengaged one by one, giving their creator affection in their various ways before filing out to their separate room to recharge, and when he finished his cube Soundwave began to work his long, slender fingers into the gaps between Shockwave’s armour plates. Precisely directed and applied force undid the kinks in his cables one by one, working down his frame, then back up once he rolled over to let Soundwave at his other side.
Such treatments had been rare, in the past. Soundwave typically showed his affection in companionship and the occasional thoughtful gift, reserving such focused acts of service for when one of them had been seriously endangered. Since Shockwave successfully kindled, however, Soundwave had been... effusive wasn’t the right word, but his lagging processor refused to pull up the correct one. The frequency of such acts of service had increased by a significant amount, and then increased again when Shockwave’s chassis began to reformat to give his forge more room. It seemed hardly a night passed at this point without Soundwave managing to pamper him in some way or other, easing the little discomforts carrying inflicted on a frame.
Shame he couldn’t do anything about the processor lag. Unless...
Soundwave dug a knuckle into a flexor cable in his hip, and Shockwave jolted at the sensation. “Relax.” he commanded, splicing a flippant word clipped from some Autobot banter with Lord Megatron’s authoritative subglyphs.
“We already determined that hardline interfacing can only alleviate my processor-based symptoms while we’re connected.” he said, consciously relaxing his frame again. “What about spark-to-spark?”
Soundwave’s hands stilled on his frame, then lifted entirely, his tentacles helping Shockwave sit up and face him. His conjunx’s screen was emblazoned with a ⚠ as large as would fit. Shockwave cycled his optic, and Soundwave displayed a page from one of the texts he’d found, highlighting and extracting a short passage.
Even once the newspark is detached from the carrier's spark, spark-merging is discouraged, as it can adversely affect newspark stability and, in extreme cases, lead to reabsorbtion.
It spoke lengths to the severity of the impact on his processing speed that Shockwave had to read the sentence twice before the meaning sank in. His field went cold with shock horror regret, and Soundwave’s arms and field joined his tentacles in embracing him, smoothing the horror away under a blanket of compassion understanding affection. Despite the comfort, despite his vorns of disciplined control of his emotional subprocesses, Shockwave found himself spiraling. Static slipped from his vocalizer in choked bursts, coolant welling around the lower rim of his optic as he clung to his conjunx. Soundwave wrapped his field and frame tighter around Shockwave’s, and held him until it passed.
“How much longer until this part is over?” he grumbled into Soundwave’s shoulder, once the wave of excessive emotion ebbed. Shockwave tapped the side of his helm, and he lifted it to see an estimated answer on his conjunx’s screen. A groan dragged out of his vocaliser, and he flopped backwards into the nest of fabrics with a surge of pique. “Why did I agree to this again?”
“It would, of course, be logical to pass down such superior coding as ours.” Soundwave played his own voice back at him. Shockwave flicked the side of his conjunx's screen, and Soundwave’s field rippled with amusement. His conjunx's slender fingers teased the seams of his modesty panel, and Shockwave opened it with a sigh. Well, if there was one upside to the process of this whole carrying business, it was that he was getting fantasically railed every night.
---
A cheerful chirp of binary alerted Shockwave to the identity of the latest mech to enter his lab without him needing to turn around. Technowave was an inquisitive hatchling, had been from the moment their optics came online, but such pure joy was only elicited by seeing himself, Soundwave, or Soundwave’s symbionts. Soundwave played the sound back to them, and Technowave laughed, clapping their little hands. When Shockwave turned from his work, it was to the expected sight of Soundwave lifting their creation in his tentacles, his screen flicking between much more simplistic displays than usual. Copying what Technowave was showing on their own screen-face, he was sure.
That particular feature had been a surprise, but not necessarily a bad one. Technowave was undeniably theirs, and in Shockwave’s utterly logical opinion, they were perfect. They would never be a powerhouse, a singular terror to frontline Autobots on every battlefield, but perfection came in many forms. A quick processor, keen observational skills, these were things sorely lacking among their faction. They would grow to be truly brilliant, and he would strike down any mech who dared to dim that brilliance.
More babbled binary caught his attention, and Shockwave lifted his arms automatically as Technowave’s field pushed clumsily against his. They were too young yet to convey any sort of nuance, but want was clear enough, and they settled in his arms with a happy chirp. Their screen dimmed quickly, tiny systems settling into a low idle, and Shockwave settled them securely in the crook of his gun arm before turning his attention to Soundwave.
Who was staring, tentacles flicking with rarely-expressed emotion. And sure enough, once Soundwave drew closer his field was bursting with warmth, adoration strongest of all, thick enough it would’ve been cloying if it weren’t so genuine. “Back so soon?” he asked, leaning in to bump the edge of his optic casing against the side of Soundwave’s mask, exchanging a tiny spark of charge with the contact.
“Autobots- inferior.”
“Of course.” Shockwave nodded, then squinted at Soundwave. “You did report to Lord Megatron first, right?”
“Mighty Megatron can wait.” Soundwave played back in Starscream’s voice. Shockwave flared admonishment in his field, adjusting his hold on Technowave as they shifted in their recharge.
“Report to Megatron first, or we’ll both be in trouble.” he chided, turning away from Soundwave. Soundwave stepped after him, tentacles winding around his chassis. Not a retraint, but a request. Technowave’s screen flickered back on, and they let out a quiet, contented little sound, reaching out with one tiny hand to try to grab the nearest biolight they could see on the tentacles.
“Megatron- understanding.” Soundwave played in Dreadwing’s voice. And, well... he wasn’t wrong. There were several logical explanations for the fact that Lord Megatron granted liberties to Soundwave that even Starscream didn’t get, but the truth was that their Lord had favourites among his command staff. And Soundwave was top of that list, having the longest history with and most unwavering loyalty to their Lord. Soundwave delaying a report to attend to his conjunx and their hatchling would be forgiven with a brusque word, at most.
“Do not make a habit of this, Soundwave.” Shockwave warned, turning so Technowave could see their other creator again. They were still drowsy, but beeped happily at the sight of him nonetheless. Soundwave held one hand out towards them, and Shockwave relaxed some at the welling affection in his conjunx’s field as Technowave grabbed his long, thin fingers.
“Perhaps you should seek time off the field.” he suggested, drawing Soundwave’s attention. “Your symbionts are quite effective field agents on their own, and you can be of use to the Decepticons in an administrative role, collating and analysing the data your subordinates collect.”
Soundwave tilted his helm, and Shockwave stepped closer, until Technowave could grab onto Laserbeak’s wing. “It is only logical, that our creation is exposed to both our fields of work from a young age, so they may choose a field of their own as early as possible and have time to hone their skills within it.”
Soundwave nodded, and Shockwave’s field warmed with satisfaction. Unspoken, but not unheard, was the fact that if he had a desk job for a while, Soundwave could have their hatchling with him as he worked, instead of only seeing them off-shift and when he could find time to slip away to Shockwave’s lab.
“Additionally, there are experiments Lord Megatron wishes performed which are too dangerous to run with a newbuild in the room.” Shockwave added. Soundwave’s tentacles coiled closer, exactly as he’d expected.
“Consider it done.” Shockwave’s own voice played back at him, and he leaned in to knock the edge of his optic casing against the side of Soundwave’s screen. If the rest of the rearing process was this easy, Shockwave might not object to another, eventually.