Archive of Our Own

You could be taking this opportunity to gather mad intel for the Autobots that you wouldn’t be able to otherwise. It’s the perfect opportunity, being at their surveillance officer’s side, and yet,... You at first had been far more concerned about your fate to even think about being sneaky and resourceful.

Soundwave had literally snatched you up while you’d been in the middle of a scouting mission, grabbing and lifting your smaller frame in his servos like it had been nothing. It was like he’d appeared from thin air. You hadn’t heard a peep from him until-

“Operation recovery: successful.”

No pede steps, no indication he’d been there to begin with. Part of you wonders if, perhaps, this had been planned, if he’d been waiting for an opportunity to catch some Autobots alone and get revenge for his offlined Cassettes. It made the most sense. Surely he must be upset over the loss, at least in the manner that he had less to work with now, and yet,...

You don’t struggle at first, too taken off guard to do much more than blink in pure terror and shock, and the moment you do begin to squirm, his grip is too firm to escape from. It’s no use, and you can’t transform like this.

He moves you in close to his chassis, holding your body in a single servo while the other covers the top of your helm, as if you’re in danger of getting wet or hit by falling rocks or something, carrying you away to what you’re certain is the Decepticon base before it even comes into view.

Your spark felt like it was in your throat with anxiety, trying frantically to send a signal back to the Autobot base through internal communication. You weren’t sure what was to become of you, and your processor was currently cycling through all the potential horrors.

While you’d heard of his Cassettes’ terminations, even had fellow Autobots raise a toast at having less Decepticon surveillance drones to worry about, less mouths to hear the words, “Autoscum,” from and other such colorful insults, less Decepticon soldiers to have to worry about meeting in battle or engaging in sabotage or whatever nefarious plans they’d cooked up this time,...

You had not been present then. You were better suited for quick and efficient field work away from battle, reporting your findings of anything unusual or sent on specific missions to discreetly observe reports of Decepticon activity, or partnered up with a fellow Autobot to aid their battle prowess if not just put to work in or closer to base.

Your place was not on the front lines with the bigger bots where sometimes- most often Rumble and Frenzy- Soundwave’s Cassettes found themselves when not on reconnaissance missions- more suited for Ravage and Laserbeak. You’d been shocked to hear it at first. All four at once?

To your comrades, it’d been a miracle, a gift from Primus, so much of their worries abated all at once. You hadn’t put a whole lot of thought into how Soundwave must have felt about this, not when celebrations were to be had at the Autobot base and your processor quickly put to thoughts of the future.

A few offlined Decepticons meant nothing, not until the entire faction was disbanded and your team had at last won this already long lasting war.

Sympathy wasn’t exactly the first thing you ever expected to feel for a Decepticon, not when all the words that left all those you’d come across’ mouths had been some form of insult or degrading speech aimed directly at you, your comrades, or your faction as a whole.

And especially since they’d clearly had no respect for any species that were not Cybertronian if their already atrocious treatment of Earth and its inhabitants hadn’t been example enough. They were ruthless, and you’d witnessed enough interactions between them on your own and heard many a tale of how underhanded and cruel they could be even to their own.

You were quite surprised they hadn’t already offlined each other in their struggle for power among themselves. Perhaps it is Megatron’s might that keeps them at least somewhat functional, with Soundwave and Shockwave his most feared and loyal enforcers. You’ve seen and heard time and time again that Starscream at least is not so shy about trying to usurp his leader.

The last thing you could have ever expected, really, was to not be tortured for information or until your optics closed for the final time and you became one with the Well of All Sparks. Surprised is a bit of an understatement when you are not, in fact, ripped to bolts and wires or used as a hostage or siphoned of all your knowledge (you know Soundwave can read processors).

You’re utterly mystified when Soundwave decides to keep you, like... Like a pet almost. You’re obviously not given any choice in the matter, and you’re honestly too terrified to protest much.

You are now among the enemy, among bots who do not care whether you’re online or off, and are much larger than you are and more capable of putting an end to your spark than you are theirs. And while Megatron seems just as mystified as you are by this turn of events, he allows it so long as you don’t get in the way of the Decepticons’ ambitions.

It’s now Soundwave’s responsibility to keep you out of trouble and from contacting the Autobots again. Megatron gave you a pointed look and told you in no uncertain terms that if you become a hindrance to their cause, a snake in their midst who even attempts to reveal their plans to the Autobots, he’ll put an end to you personally.

You felt a shudder go along your spinal strut at that intimidating gaze, bowing your head timidly as you heard Soundwave beside you say, “Affirmative, Megatron. As you command.”

“I trust you won’t disappoint, Soundwave.” He said, though his gaze did not go to the taller bot next to you until after those words left his lips, making it clear he meant business.

You didn’t fancy yourself an insignia switcher, and yet... Megatron waved a servo from where he was seated, his ‘throne’ within the base.

“Have Shockwave do away with that eyesore of an insignia. We wouldn’t want our new... ‘Recruit’ thinking she can continue to be an Autobot in my presence any longer.”

“Yes, Lord Megatron.”

And with that, you were whisked away to Shockwave. You were already not eager to give up your insignia so easily and become a true Decepticon. Your fingers had lingered on the stickered on mark you’ve worn with honor until this point, worried then that you must part with it for good. However, upon learning that Shockwave intended to brand it into you,...

Intending to have the metal marked over your old insignia, you had felt like your spark dropped from its fixed spot in your chassis. Your optics had widened and you half considered if that point would have been the best time to make a break for it, your servos raising slightly with palms facing outward. You doubted a successful escape, but...

The heated, sparking brand had you feeling like all the energon just left your frame. Part of you ponders now if it was your likely visible terror that lead to what happened next. It certainly took you off guard. You knew Soundwave had been watching from the side and had initially assumed that he was fine with this, and yet-

You had startled at the sudden dark blue blur and the way Shockwave’s intimidating, one-eyed frame suddenly tilted and fell sideways onto the floor. The resounding heavy metal thunk still rang in your audial processors as you blinked at Shockwave’s fallen form. If he had facial features, you’re certain he would have been just as taken off guard visually.

He shifted up from the floor, turning his helm towards Soundwave and sounded a little more testy than his voice had sounded when him and Soundwave had conversed before he pulled out that intimidating brand.

It was only then that you too turned your gaze from the fallen Shockwave- who had then been in the process of returning to his pedes and turning to Soundwave fully after a moment- and up to Soundwave. He had still been in stance, fist outstretched at the space Shockwave no longer occupied. Looking close enough, you swore there was a light tremble in Soundwave’s frame.

“Soundwave, what is the meaning-” is about all he got out before the bot in question cut him off.

If you’d thought a disgruntled Shockwave sounded intimidating earlier, you were not ready for Soundwave’s voice. You felt a cold settle in your spinal strut, much like you had when Megatron had threatened you and sent you that look. Soundwave finally lowered his servo but they stayed curled into fists.

“Order: do not touch the Minicon, or else.”

“Megatron ordered the Autobot insignia removed, did he not? You dare defy his command?”

“Negative. I shall handle it.” He placed a servo against his chassis, and from his stance alone, you could tell he meant business.

...Well, if him punching Shockwave hadn’t been evidence enough, that is.

“Very well then.” Shockwave moved to extend the brand in Soundwave’s direction, offering it to him with a little more force than you felt was necessary, but Soundwave raised a servo palm outward and shook his helm.

“Not needed.”

...And that’s how you ended up with a messily scrawled Decepticon logo over your Autobot one. You could still see the original beneath if you squinted, but the purple covered the red well enough... Well, in places. You’re not sure if Soundwave’s rage is what made his servo so unsteady, if it was your size compared to him and his much bigger servo, or... Something else.

You were rather... Well, mystified yet again at his actions and the near absurdity of this situation. That he would chose a less painful looking method of applying your insignia made you ponder why. But perhaps, as you think on it even now, you wonder if... The sparking and bright glare reminded him of how his Cassettes had perished.

You hadn’t been there, but from what your comrades had said and the fact that not even a scrap of their frames had been recovered,... Well,... You nearly wince at the thought. Were they totally vaporized? Leaving Soundwave with absolutely nothing of them? While the idea of keeping their empty frames was a bit... Morbid,...

He didn’t even have their blaster or something to keep as a memento? With how Soundwave seems to cling to you, you’re under the impression that if anything had been salvaged of them, it would have been kept or repurposed as something he could carry with him to help him grieve. As it is,... You think you fill that spot. He treats you well, better than you had expected.

It’s certainly leagues better than what you had in your processor was going to happen to you when he’d first grabbed you like that and brought you here. Though sometimes,... You think his rage for the Autobots carries over to you just a bit as he’s not always as gentle with touches or grabbing you. It’s never enough to truly hurt, just a little... More firm than usual.

He has a habit of telling you to return when he goes somewhere he wants you present despite the fact you cannot, his cassette door open and optics set on you expectantly. So you stare up at him, and he stares down at you for a long moment before seeming to realize and closing the door before lifting and carrying you rather than allowing you to walk on your own.

You’re not sure what he thinks, if you might try to bolt away if he doesn’t carry you or what, but maybe it’s just his desire to keep you close and in optic view or servo reach at all times. You feel like... Well, a sparkling’s toy more than anything, and part of you is still a little concerned that he might try and force you into his chest compartment regardless of how well you’ll fit.

You are the closest in size and frame to Rumble and Frenzy, and they are the two Soundwave calls you most often. You do catch him saying their names out loud sometimes- and not just Rumble’s and Frenzy’s. It’s not even directed at you. You’re not sure... If it’s just a force of habit, or if he’s hoping against hope that they’ll come back somehow, that they’re still online, just lost.

He tells them to return, or requests a status report sometimes, and all that answers is the silence. It’s obvious that that’s what takes the most toll on him, and honestly,... It’s just sad to watch. It reminds you of a human conversation you’d overheard once. It stuck with you for one simple line, one that you can’t help but think of now.

“Aren’t ya mad your wife stays at home all day, and you go to work and come back home in the evening after hours of grueling work to a place of total disarray every evenin’? Like, what’s she doin’? All that time at home with the kids and nothing’s orderly?”

“What, fix everything all perfect so the kids can mess it up again? She tells me she could clean every minute of the day and still, they’d find something to push out of place or throw around. She cleans early in the morning all the time, pristine when I leave and looks like a war zone when I come back, some days better than others.”

“Oh, bull! I say she’s just lazy, that’s all.”

“And how can you be mad at a home that looks like it’s lived in? Sounds to me like you’d be better off dying alone if a clean house matters that much to you.”

A home that looks lived in... A house full of noise, words and laughter,... The silence here is deafening when the Decepticons aren’t having what sounds like an all out brawl outside, loud clangs and sometimes blaster fire muffling shouting matches or grunts and pained cries from their arguing turned violent among each other, arguing over who can give who orders.

Or rather, who can’t. From what you hear, they’re disgruntled at receiving second-hand orders, thinking the others had no right to tell them what to do, even if Megatron himself ordered it. Soundwave plays his empty cassettes Shockwave had made for him to fill the now empty space in his chassis, but otherwise?

It’s quiet, too quiet, other than the quiet sound of Soundwave stroking your helm a little too harshly. You wonder what he’s thinking, trying to glance at his face without turning your head too much, not sure if you want to disturb whatever little world he’s in right now. He pauses momentarily, making you stiffen, and then flinch as he resumes. You can’t help but think...

That others of your allies would be trying harder to escape, would be cursing Soundwave and all the Decepticons here every step of the way and rebelling as much as they could, and here you are,... Silently observing, and not even trying to gather important Decepticon intel which you could report back to your comrades.

Despite Megatron’s threat, you could be showing your manifolds by plotting escape plans and trying to sabotage the Decepitcons and their current base of operations, but you don’t. Soundwave’s EM field is so heavy with grief. It’s almost draining... You’d almost prefer the crackling energy of his rage to this. This melancholy silence... It’s nearly enough to drive you insane.

You can feel his emotions, but they’re not yours. You know this, and yet, it’s almost as if it is your own grief. His EM field is so pervasive, even when you try to block it out. And you just feel so heavy, so tired... He was hard to read outwardly, especially when entirely motionless and not making any gestures, but his EM field was alight with a myriad of things often.

Mostly rage and grief and an eerie emptiness. A numbness. That too was not pleasant to feel, like a quiet buzzing, an ever constant hum and an aching in your spark, but you think you’d prefer even that over his sadness. You think back to your comrades often, wondering if they miss you, if they’ve noticed you’re gone yet, and if they thought you deserted.

Did they think you’d gone rogue? Surely not, right? Were they looking for you right now? Trying to track what may have become of you? You could not reach your fellow Autobots over transmission even in Soundwave’s servos, when he’d first snatched you up. You think he’s been jamming your communications, perhaps even before you came fully into range.

You’re not sure, but... You do turn to look up at him this time. You’re certain many of your fellow Autobots would be disappointed in you, but you just can’t bring yourself to do anything against Soundwave, not even consider it. You can’t really tell where he’s looking since he’s facing forward, but you don’t feel like you do when you can tell he’s looking.

You think about what they said that day, that evening they came back from battle, sharing their news cheerfully at having finally downed some Decepticons permanently.

“We finally offlined some Decepticons today, and guess what! It was even Soundwave’s Cassettes to boot! You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Yeah! No more annoying surveillance drones to deal with!”

“Too bad we also couldn’t have taken down that creep Soundwave with them... It would have solved a lot of our problems.”

“Hey, that’s four less nuisances to deal with on a near daily basis. I’ll take what I can get!”

And when you weren’t caught raising a toast and giving a shout of cheer with the others, you were offered a cube and a smile.

“Hey, hey, why so glum? Have an energon cube! Less Decepticons are less Decepticons, isn’t that reason enough to celebrate?”

Optimus himself didn’t quite seem to think so, imparting knowledge that they shouldn’t let it get to their heads, that there was still a war waging, and the tides could turn either way if they weren’t vigilant and ready for the Decepticons’ next attack, though you’d heard one response be that it wasn’t a reason to not celebrate. They needed this, that was the argument.

They needed something to be cheerful about, something to hope that was progress, and Optimus ultimately let them have their fun, but you... You offered a smile and raised your glass when your optics met with others’, and you sipped your energon, but your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn’t explain it then, and even now, you just felt... Blank.

You weren’t quite sad over them, but you weren’t dancing and spitting on their graves either.

“Good riddance!” You’d heard said.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and take out Megatron next.”

“Ha! And I’m the leader of our faction!”

“That’ll be the day, won’t it?”

“Yeah, but if we don’t pummel all of them to scrap, some other bot’ll just take his place- even if we did get that lucky.”

“Not if we can help it!”

Laughter filled the air after that, and while you were happy your comrades were happy, you think... You just couldn’t fathom it. Four Decepticons in a day, whereas their numbers had stayed the same for quite a while, even risen at times. It was almost unbelievable, if not for so many of your fellow Autobots’ confirmations and high spirits.

You just hadn’t processed it yet, and tomorrow was another day. You thought about your work, and that was it. That was the end of thought spared to either the Cassettes or Soundwave. Maybe a brief lingering thought when alone, but little more. Life goes on. Life went on for everyone after that,... Everyone but Soundwave.

Soundwave, who was now dealing with this grief, this anger, this inner turmoil. That same night the Autobots were raising cubes of energon and having a blast, Soundwave was here, likely devastated if his behavior now is anything to go by. Emotionless, sparkless,... You’ve heard Soundwave called a lot of things, but there’s something just... Sad about seeing him in such a state.

He’s still utterly terrifying, sure, but... Can you really... Think of your comrades the same now? Even now, they must be grateful that his Cassettes had been terminated, but Soundwave... Did he shed coolant for them, you wonder,... Did he go on a rage and destroy things? Was he silent, shocked, lost, and utterly upset?

Had he collapsed and wept for them? Felt like his spark was rendered in half? He feels many things now. You feel them in his EM field. Part of you can’t help but feel your Autobot comrades are the sparkless ones. Their words make your spark ache, make your optics want to leak knowing what you know now. You can’t...

You can’t even bring yourself to hate Soundwave, to even be upset at him. Beyond being terrified at times- though much less now, he’s still intimidating- and missing your comrades and the safety of the Autobot base and your own hab suite, you don’t even think rage was a prevalent emotion even at the beginning. You were baffled, certainly, but...

Honestly, you think you’ve been in a funk for a while, even before the Cassettes’ deaths. Maybe you were just drained from this war and ready for it to be done with, one way or another. Days felt like a haze. You did your job, kept yourself functional, and went into recharge at night. Your processor was elsewhere in the slower days and when you were alone, wandering.

Where, you weren’t certain, just somewhere. You just felt... Blank inside. Soundwave can’t seem to decide between keeping you locked up in his hab suite and taking you with him wherever he goes, and it seems that not even the Decepticons care much for Soundwave. Of course they don’t, though.

Other than their little cliques, it seems, and even sometimes within them, there’s dissent. Would any of the others feel like Soundwave if they lost one of ‘theirs’? Or was what he and his Cassettes once had truly been a unique case among the Decepticons?

You can’t be certain as you don’t know them, or have not seen them after losing one of their own from their little cliques. To the others, it seems you are considered “Soundwave’s little Autobot pet,” with the word Autobot spat with derision. You’d heard as much said of you when Soundwave had brought you with him “to work”.

That’s what you considered the times he’s called away to complete his duties to the Decepticon cause. His “work hours”. It is these times where he seems to have a hard time figuring out whether he wants you with him or not. While often calling you a different name, he will tell you to “behave” or “remain” as he leaves his hab suite, locking you inside.

Or, he’ll bring you, and you sometimes fear for your comrades’ safety over the monitors or hear the other Decepticons slag talking about you and/or Soundwave himself in the background. If you can hear it, you’re certain Soundwave can.

“Ugh. He brought his little pet with him again.”

“Why can’t he just leave it in his hab suite like he’s been doin’?”

“Let him take it wherever he wants. This is better than dealing with him how he was before.”

You heard them make a noise as if they were shuddering and it made you a little curious. Was Soundwave worse before?

“I’m just surprised Megatron let him keep it.”

“You think he’d let me keep one if I asked?”

“Ha! Why don’t you try it? I’m sure he’ll say ‘yes’.”

“Ah, claptrap! Soundwave’s Megatron’s laphound. He gets whatever he wants as long as he pleases Megatron. We try that and we’ll likely get blasted for even askin’.”

You couldn’t help but look up at Soundwave in that moment, seeing him continue to work the monitors and do as Megatron had commanded. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even react physically, just focused on the task at servo. ‘Is it always like this for him?’ You’d wondered, ‘Is this his norm? ...Was all he had his Cassettes?’

You doubt even Shockwave and Megatron care much for him beyond what he can do for their cause. Your gaze had settled on the standard, blandly colored cassettes in his chassis. They’re spinning, you’d noticed. But of course, they’re blank, so no noise left them. What’s going on in that helm? Even now, sitting here with him in his hab suite?

You’re next to him on his circuit slab, having been letting him stroke your helm. He stops, however, seeming to have noticed you’d shifted to look at him, though he does not look at you, just freezes. The tape in his chest reaches its end and he begins to rewind it. It had been hard to recharge in here, alone with him, at first and even now but for different reasons.

You’ve grown used to his presence, knowing he won’t do anything to you beyond besides maybe gently touching your helm, your cheek, or shoulders. It makes your spark ache just thinking about it. You know he misses his Cassettes, his comrades, perhaps the only other bots that he got along with. They were his clique, you realize.

Starscream has his brothers, Skywarp and Thundercracker. The Constructicons all have each other, as do the Insecticons. But Soundwave? He’s been left with nothing after the termination of his Cassettes. And your faction did it. Your friends, your comrades, and they’d gloated. Celebrated. You can’t look at him anymore. You have to look away, expression falling.

There’s a maelstrom of emotions inside of Soundwave, something that, from witnessing him on the battlefield and from your spying missions, you didn’t think him quite capable of before. What your comrades didn’t think him capable of. But there must have been a reason his Cassettes seemed so close to him despite it all, and now you know... But it’s too late.

He plays their voices over at night, and it’s enough to make you shield your face from view as coolant makes tracks down your faceplates. At first, you’d been... Well, perhaps shocked by the quiet voice clips. You weren’t quite sure what to think, taken off guard at the sudden noise, and by the words there. They sounded...

Fond, playful, sometimes serious, sometimes bickering or talking slag, acknowledging Soundwave’s orders,... The ones that hit you in the spark chamber the most are the ones where they’re defending each other or Soundwave from things that were directed towards them by the others.

“Hey, no bot talks to Soundwave that way and gets away with it!” You could hear Rumble’s voice.

You know it’s his. You recognize him, and Frenzy, but there are two other voices that you don’t. However, bits of dialogue clue you in that it’s Laserbeak and Ravage, both of which you hadn’t known to speak. Or, perhaps they hadn’t. Perhaps he’s replaying internal conversations, from commlinks...

“Don’t let ‘em get to ya, boss! They don’t know nothin’!” Frenzy’s voice.

“I agree. They’ve got bolts for brains. We’re much better company, don’t you think?” The voice you’ve come to know as Laserbeak’s.

“Yeah! And you’ll always have us by your side! We’re nothing like those losers! Right, Ravage?”

“Indeed. What does Soundwave need with their presences when he has ours? They only look out for themselves; we look out for each other!”

How can you go back to the Autobots after this? Go back to trying to kill the Decepticons, or at least Soundwave, after hearing all of this? The voices of his offlined Cassettes, the quiet sound of his empty tapes playing and rewinding, him speaking to Cassettes that aren’t there, calling you by their names and addressing you as if you are them? After seeing this?

The way he acts with them gone? It’s like he’s empty inside, not doing or saying much of anything, just sitting there and playing and rewinding those empty tapes. His frame trembles sometimes regardless of whether he’s looking at or interacting with you or not.

Sometimes you think he just leaves because he needs to, not because Megatron or work requires his presence, but because he needs to be away. It’s as if you’re painful to look at or be around sometimes despite the fact he’s the one that literally kidnapped you and trapped you in this situation. Sometimes he just needs to hold you all the time.

His EM field goes from blank to troubled to unbearably sad to absolutely furious and then straight to utterly numb cycles later. Sometimes the Cassettes sounded almost like siblings bickering, messing up each other’s stuff, playing pranks,...

“Hey, I didn’t do it!”

“Oh? You didn’t, did you? Then explain to me why Ravage saw someone your size with blue paint, Rumble.”

“I didn’t leave today, Soundwave can vouch for me!”

“Hm...” Comes Ravage’s contemplative hum. “It would appear, Laserbeak, that Frenzy has outsmarted us all.”

“So it seems.” And he didn’t seem the least bit happy about it.

Those, and the ones where it’s clear that their bonds were close, like family, are what makes you cry the hardest at night. Especially the ones where heartfelt gifts were given or nice things were done for each other, even if they seemed to have a hard time being upfront about it without getting a little defensive with each other.

“Soundwave,” You say suddenly, quietly.

You can feel the subtle jerk of his body next to you without even having to look over, and it startles you too. You’ve been quiet since even before you got here, since he first picked you up, not sure what to say, or if you should say anything. Would he... Be angry? Would the illusion be shattered for him?

You had even pondered trying to mimic their way of speech when Soundwave called you by one of his Cassettes’ names, but you were never sure how he’d take it and, frankly, too scared to even try it because of that. Besides that, you weren’t sure if you should play into his delusions or shatter it, not sure which was better or worse for the state of his processor.

You worried about playing too much into it, and you worried about his reaction if you did not. You look up at him now, and nearly find yourself shrinking in on yourself when he turns to look at you. Yep, he’s still intimidating with that ever present blank look, optics and mouth covered. Your lips shift lightly, nervously.

“Do you... Require anything?”

“N-” The words feel like they’re stuck in your vocalizer as you try to steady your racing processor and ask what you’d initially meant to before you got intimidated by the lack of expressivity in Soundwave’s face. “No, I... Why... Why don’t you fill those cassettes? With their recordings or... Songs you think they might have liked instead of leaving them blank?”

From the light shift backwards of Soundwave’s frame, you think he’s... Taken off guard maybe? There’s a strange sort of energy to his EM field, but you can’t decipher whether it’s inherently positive or negative. His helm tilts downward and away from you, servos placing themselves against the circuit slab and clenching and unclenching.

You pull your legs up, shifting backwards on the slab and hugging them to you, laying your chin atop your knees.

“We could paint them to match their colors too, if you’d like: in their memory...”

“You... Would aid me?” He asks, looking at you for a long moment.

So long that you understand that he’s waiting for an answer.

You nod then, saying quietly, “Yeah.”

“Why?” He asks after a short beat.

“Because....”

You trail off. Even you really don’t have that answer. Because you’re tired of seeing him like this? Because it hurts your spark? Because after hearing their recordings maybe you feel something for their terminations whereas you hadn’t before?

“”Because”” why? I kidnapped you.”

“M-hm.” You nod in affirmation, staring up at him, well aware of this fact.

He stares back, making you a little nervous. It’s only then that your expression begins to crumble and you realize why he keeps looking at you like that. This should not be as casual as you’re making it. He literally kidnapped you, and you’re talking to him like he didn’t.

“Your logic does not compute. By all rights, you should be upset, angry with me.”

You nod yet again and he continues to stare, making you fidget lightly.

“I dunno. I just...” You look away and ex-vent, form deflating. “Look, I know it doesn’t make sense, but neither does what you’ve done.” You state, turning to look at him again. “Why take an Autobot? Why treat me so nicely compared to what I might have first expected to happen to me?”

You notice the near, imperceptible shifting of Soundwave’s frame at your pointed questions, the way he stiffens. He shifts his helm lightly and you can tell he’s no longer looking at you even though you can’t see exactly where he’s looking beyond perhaps the direction he’s facing.

“Bluntly: You were there.”

“Because I was there. Alone. At the right place at the right time.” You state just as bluntly.

“Affirmative.”

“And there were no others my size on the Decepticon side to serve as proper replacements.”

“...Affirmative.”

That second one sounds a little... Sad maybe? It’s certainly not said so quickly and surely as the first one. He nods his helm to that one too, in time with his single spoken word. Your optics catch a light shifting, and you witness the way his fingers flex lightly against the slab in the space between the two of you.

The metal creaks a little at his force, but it doesn’t seem like an angry motion.

“...”

Your gaze moves back to him. He still hasn’t answered your second question, and you wonder if he really has an answer for you. Is he just as lost mentally as you are right now about this entire situation?

Was him taking you like that all on a whim, a desire to have someone here, even if they were an Autobot and not even the same gender as his Cassettes, and not premeditated like you’d initially assumed? You’d thought that perhaps he was seeking revenge at first: taking from the Autobots something of a similar value to what he’d lost. But...

With this new knowledge, it appears that maybe, perhaps, he’d just been so grief stricken and lonely that anything even remotely similar to his Cassettes was something he desired to have near, especially since it seems like he has not even a scrap of their remains to mourn over. He has... Absolutely nothing. Though,... You suppose that’s not entirely true now, now that he has you.

And if taking you truly was on a whim, does that mean Soundwave really has no idea what to do with you now that he has you? Beyond what he’s already been doing? Using you as a stand-in of sorts for his offlined Cassettes?

“Why don’t you talk to them?” You ask softly, watching his helm lower. “Tell them about your day? I’ll give you privacy if you need.”

You startle and flinch at how quickly the servo closest to you shifts, and he grabs your shoulder in a manner that has you going stiff, though it’s not painful, only firm.

“No.” He says then, and it clicks in your processor after a moment of brow furrowed confusion.

Your optics widen slightly at the realization. He doesn’t want privacy. He doesn’t want to be alone. You raise your opposite servo and place it over his. You’re still so comically small next to him, truly around the size of Rumble and Frenzy. The thought of them makes your spark ache with how this has all affected Soundwave so deeply.

You feel his grip tighten fractionally, trembling not from force but something else.

“I’m... Not going anywhere.” You settle on, giving his servo a light squeeze.

It’s not like you could anyway without risking the wrath of Megatron, but... You’re still conflicted on where you stand now. Do you really want to go back? After everything? You would not be able to forget Soundwave’s anguish. What is there to be done? You don’t want your Autobot comrades to be offlined, and yet...

This has left you thinking twice about offlining or gloating over the termination of any other Decepticon. Is there any sliver of a chance they care as deeply about those closest to them as Soundwave had his Cassettes? You close your optics, letting out a soft ex-vent. You’re just so lost. What... Do you do? What do you do beyond being here for Soundwave in this moment?

You can’t go fully neutral and back out. You don’t want anyone else to be offlined, but... Neither side is willing to yield or compromise. It is the sole reason that this war has gone on for so long. Neither side wants to surrender. They don’t want to give up on their unique goal, their vision for what the future should be, and it has led to this: much sparkbreak.

You’re torn now where you’d once thought yourself forever staunchly Autobot. Maybe Optimus would understand, but you can list many right now that you just don’t think would ever understand or perhaps even believe what you would have to say, and you’re certain they perhaps would continue to hold a grudge- against both you and Soundwave concerning this situation.

You’d be labeled a traitor in their eyes, and perhaps you were. You’ve already thought often that the others would already be plotting if not having already tried to escape and perhaps even been offlined at the cost of trying. They wouldn’t have given in so easily like you have. You don’t really see Soundwave switching sides, and if he did, would any of your comrades trust him?

Ever? After all him and his Cassettes have done under Megatron’s command and otherwise? You were just... Lost. Part of you pondered if you should just embrace this and tear off your own insignia, but you don’t, still somewhat torn, even if you do now feel differently about some of your comrades’ behavior and words.

“Inquiry: You were serious about helping me paint the blank cassettes?”

You startle as his voice tears you from your thoughts. It’s a welcome reprieve if you’re honest, though your delay between processing and responding is longer than you’d like, leaving you blinking up at him and nearly forgetting just what it was he’d said due to how intimidating you still find him, unable to read his expressions like this.

“Uhm, yeah. Why else would I have offered? I would just... Need references for the colors.”

He turns his helm towards the door to his hab suite.

“Commencing operation: paint.” He says, standing and walking around the slab and towards the door.

You watch him go and he pauses upon reaching the door, not inputting the code to unlock it just yet. He stares at you for a moment longer than makes you comfortable and you feel like you’d be sweating if you could right now.

Finally, he inclines his helm a little and says, “Order: stay.”

You nod.

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

He nods too, but it still takes him longer than it should to turn and fully leave, lingering as if uncertain, as if pondering if he wants you with him or not while he acquires paint and something to paint with. You watch him go when he finally decides to, hearing the door slide back into place, and just like that, you’re left to the silence.

You ex-vent heavily and collapse backward, staring up at the ceiling. How much more of this can you take? You feel like your spark is being ripped to pieces bit by bit the longer you stay, and yet,... You can’t bring yourself to leave. Not when you know that without you, he has nothing. You turn your helm to look back at the door again. It’s hard to know... What the right choice is.

You can’t just leave... But you’re a traitor if you stay and don’t do anything to help your cause. You’re living with the enemy, and as of now, helping him grieve. What do you do...? The part of you that still cares, that isn’t dead from this long lasting war can’t stand the idea of hurting Soundwave now, not when you know how he’s suffering.

You have to close your optics, or else you’ll start crying again. This is too much for you.

-

When Soundwave returns, it is with several comically small buckets of paint, and even more small brushes. They’re not as small compared to you as they are to him.

You’re at first a little confused how Soundwave is going to use such tiny things, or how he picked them up without crushing them when they’re rather small to even your servos, but he surprises you by having his servo shift just enough that it allows for a slot to slide the brush into, using it as merely an extension to one of his fingers.

You’re fascinated by the action and you’re curious how well it’ll work, but first,... He has to eject the cassettes from his chassis.

He presses the button on his shoulder, saying, “Eject.”

Whereas before, his Cassettes would fly out and transform before touching the ground, these just fly out and flop lifelessly onto the circuit slab, landing somewhat on top of each other. You wince at the sound of the impact, and even Soundwave looks down at them silently for a moment. It kinda makes your spark wrench, if you’re honest.

His servo shifts finally and he leans down to pick them up much more gently than they’d met the slab. You can’t stop yourself from placing your servo against his leg in a comforting sort of gesture. You don’t think you imagine the way his frame shudders, though he seems to recollect himself quickly enough, sitting carefully on the slab.

You watch with fascination as he carefully pops the lids off the paint cans with another tool he forms from one of his digits, precisely outlining in different colors and dotting the area to indicate where to paint.

“Instruction: do not paint delicate components.” He says, pointing out the areas he wants you to be careful with the paint around, and you nod, deciding that if he wants those areas painted, he can do it himself.

The last thing you want to do is upset him. So, you take your time and are careful, doing your best not to let the paint all glob and leave an undesirable texture. It’s... Kind of calming, actually. To have something to do rather than sit quietly alone or by Soundwave’s side. In fact, you can almost imagine that this is an activity between friends and not you and your captor...

You think you should perhaps feel a little concerned by this observation, but you truly are just thankful your fate hasn’t been something worse considering the stunts the Decepticons have pulled in the past. And having something to do other than think is very refreshing. And the quiet sounds of movement, of painting, is a nice reprieve from the silence.

You are still a soldier after all, used to daily tasks, big or small. To have nothing at all to do has made you an anxious, fidgeting mess, which has not helped your situation as you feel like you’ve mostly retreated into your processor, trying not to move too much, to not somehow piss off Soundwave. This is... A bit of a welcome change.

While you’re still nervous, you’re at least relieved to know that breaking him out of whatever state he’d been in earlier hadn’t had any disastrous consequences. The painting continues in somewhat of a peaceful quietness, one that’s more welcomed than before, when it had been tense and full of experiencing Soundwave’s overwhelming emotions, or lack thereof.

You both paint two apiece, with Soundwave taking on the more intricate details of all four and getting the areas you don’t dare paint for fear of disobeying his order. These are meant to imitate his deceased Cassettes after all, and you don’t dare provoke him after things have been going so well between the two of you currently after finally gaining the courage to speak.

You let one side dry while painting the second’s top and sides before placing it aside and picking up your first to flip and paint the other side once you’re certain it’s dry and repeating the process with the other and letting Soundwave take them back to finish up. Once they’re fully painted, he puts them back into his chassis, and you notice how he just sits there.

He keeps his servo over the glass for a moment, looking down, and you wonder if perhaps this was the best idea. Have you... Suggested something that might be detrimental to him in the long run? You stare at him for a moment, feeling an ache in your spark, and you have to really wonder if it’s really you, or if you’re picking up on his EM field again.

It’s gotten so hard to tell sometimes. You set about closing the paint cans instead, trying not to think on it too much, but the silence really becomes deafening again, so much so that you’re drawn back to mostly being inside your own processor, and you’ve come to hate it in there...

-

It’s meant to be the recharge cycle again, but still, it’s hard to do so. You’re still not that comfortable with Soundwave. And while he gives you space- or tries to. It’s a little cramped-, it’s still... unnerving. Laying with your back to Soundwave on the circuit slab is as difficult a decision as it was when you’d first been brought here.

However, it was better than being stared down, or feeling like you were. Simply, it was more awkward than it was concerning enough for you to try and recharge facing him. Of course, it was still difficult even after all this time. The recordings he replays at night keeps you up when your general unease does not, listening.

You’re honestly curious of what they have to say while also feeling your spark ache for Soundwave’s loss, for the loss of his family. What they once shared. He’s playing recordings again tonight. It’s been a routine since you’d first been brought here. You just barely resist the urge to curl in on yourself, though you do feel the ache in your spark return again.

“Hey, Soundwave! Check it out! Isn’t this cool? I thought Earth was just some wet mudball, but this place is actually kinda nice.” Frenzy’s voice.

“Affirmative. A perfect place for relaxation.” Soundwave himself this time.

The next recording is obviously different, with Rumble’s voice this time.

“Hey, come on, you guys! It’s not funny!”

“That is not how you pronounce hors d’oeuvres.” Laserbeak.

“Yeah, and what’s it to you anyway, birdbrain?! It’s just some stupid human food anyway!”

You’re not sure how much longer these recordings carry on, just that they do, and when they stop, the silence is loud. The only noises are the faint hums of electricity within the base. You think it keeps you awake more than the voices do.

It’s almost enough to make you want to scream, which is odd because you never felt this way back at the Autobot base, knowing a comrade was always some pedesteps away. And it takes a moment to piece together why you now feel this way. It’s not just you that feels this way. This is Soundwave’s feeling.

While, yes, he’s still very much a wildcard in your processor who you do not know if he might just snap at some point, you can feel his EM field. Is this why he plays those audios at night? Not just because he misses them, but because the silence by itself- caused by their absences- is simply too much? You can feel him staring at you, and you try to ignore it.

You try to close your optics and rest, but... You feel a sort of disturbance, hear a movement, and nearly find yourself flinching. There’s a hesitation, another noise, and then silence. It’s too much. Your optics flicker back open and you stare into the darkness.

“It’s okay, Soundwave. You can hold me if you want, I don’t mind.”

You know it’s what he wanted, to touch, to feel your shoulder and imagine for a moment that you were his deceased. He’s done it before, and you know that he knows that you’re not recharging. You still kind of startle yourself with your own voice even though it was meant to be quiet, still too loud in the otherwise quiet room now that he’s no longer replaying recordings.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, and it prompts you, after silent beats pass, to turn and face him. He’s staring down at you, but he’s frozen. You don’t miss his curled fist trembling lightly. You reach out, touching him lightly, placing a servo against his arm. He startles at the touch and while it raises your alertness, nothing more happens.

“It’s okay,” You say, softer this time as you meet his gaze again.

He reaches out so suddenly that you flinch, grabbing you by the shoulder and just gradually pulling you in against his chassis, his frame trembling as he says, “Rumble, Frenzy,...”

His voice sounds unsteady, staticky, and you cave. You press your forehead against the glass containing the newly painted cassettes and feel the tears form and roll down your faceplates. Your arm goes around him as much as it can.

“I’m so sorry, Soundwave,...”

He trembles harder, gripping you tighter.

-

It’s not until there’s another quiet moment between the two of you later in the day. He’d left a good three cycles ago before returning with energon cubes. You assume he either had duties to attend to, or simply needed the time away from you as he rose and said not a word. You don’t think either of you really recharged. You couldn’t. Not with him in that state.

“You apologized to me several cycles ago.” He states.

It had been mostly noiseless aside from the ever present hum and some brief commotion outside though it did not sound particularly hostile.

“Why?” He ends up asking.

You stare down at your cube, trying to find the answer before you speak quietly, “They were your family... I know that now.”

There’s another beat before: “...You were not the one who terminated them.”

“That’s true... But it doesn’t change how I feel.”

You don’t think either of you are really interested in drinking your cubes. You raise your gaze to him and he’s pointedly not looking your way.

“Is what you’re fighting for still worth it? Now that they’re gone?”

You watch him shift lightly in response, as if surprised. You note slight movement, and your gaze drops to the way his servos flex as he holds his cube. His helm lowers before turning to you.

“Their sacrifices would be in vain if I did not.”

You nod and find your gaze dropping, unable to keep the sadness from your voice as you admit, “If I had known that this was what awaited you, that you would lose...”

You close your optics, knowing that if you don’t, you might start crying again if you finish that sentence. You shake your helm.

“I’m not sure...”

“...You are questioning your loyalty to the Autobots.”

You can’t help but note that he sounds... Surprised?

You lightly blink, as if that will will away your tears before you look at him and say, “I am not a Decepticon.”

Your voice is steady. This is a fact, and yet... You lower your helm as your gaze moves down, voice becoming conflicted and... Sad?

“...But I don’t know if I could go back to being an Autobot.”

Soundwave is silent, until he asserts, “If you went back, I’d have no qualms terminating you.”

“And that’s the difference in you and me. I’m a deserter, and you’re still loyal to your cause.”

“...”

-

Not much else is said between the two of you and an odd sort of routine settles in. It’s like before almost, except you’re no longer frozen. You actually start taking initiative, initiating touch when he starts up those trembling fits that you’ve taken as a sign that he needs comfort.

He will hold you with a sureness, a certainty, as if not clutching to you tightly means you’ll fade away. That you’ll disappear into a puff of smoke and leave him all alone.

“I’m here,” You say, as if those simple words could will away his fear.

And really, for the most part, you think it does truly help. You’d been so concerned about angering him, shattering his impression that you were Rumble or Frenzy, his desire for them to be here instead of you, but... You think not being consumed by the quiet is what he really needs.

You feel like you start devolving into utter nonsense, saying almost anything to keep the deafening hum of electricity from being the only thing the both of you hear when he’s not playing something. You’ve come to the point where, if acting like his friend will keep his EM field from being such an overwhelming mess and his frame shaking like a cold human, you’ll do it.

You place your servo against him when you think he needs comfort or reassurance and tell him that it’s okay, that he can play anything he wants to whenever he needs. He really does fill those cassettes. It’s almost like he’s made his own mixtapes, adding voice clips and interactions alongside songs that that Cassette must have really liked.

You tried to encourage him to speak to them, to tell them about his day or what was going on, what he was feeling, that he missed them and thought of them often. You thought that, slowly, surely, he was getting better. His missing them would never go away, but... He could at least manage the grief in time. You had no doubt he’d still get sad and upset and angry, but...

He could cope in a healthier way than kidnapping Autobot scouts in the future and pretending they were his deceased Cassettes. ...You’re still not so sure where this puts you in the grand scheme of things, what you’ll do when he no longer needs you and decides, perhaps, to let you go. Though, you find that a little doubtful seeing as Megatron plans to kill you if you leave.

...What do you do? It’s a glaring question that haunts your every moment. You don’t know. You’ve thought about all your options, and you just... You really don’t know what to do with yourself. You can’t stay here forever and be complicit with the Decepticons’ plans, but you just... You can’t bring yourself to leave Soundwave. He’s still struggling, still grieving.

And while you’d thought things were getting better for him, more manageable, enough that thoughts of him no longer needing you here began to creep into your processor,... He comes back one evening, around almost two weeks after you’ve begun helping him in this manner, and...

While you try to smile and put up the front that everything’s alright and greet him as he enters his hab suite, as if you’re genuinely happy to see him, you notice that... Something’s wrong.

The admittedly fake, plastered on smile falters and you can’t help but call out, “Soundwave?”

He’s holding one of the cassettes you helped paint and your jaw drops, optics widening a smidgen as you notice it’s damaged. The paint is scratched around where it’s been chipped, fracture lines accompanying the broken off portion. He’s shaking when he steps inside and allows the doors to slide shut behind him. He approaches a table with three sizable drawers down either side.

He sets down the damaged cassette gingerly and reaches down to open one of the drawers. After a little bit of rummaging, he produces a box of screws and your brow furrows. You can’t help but come closer, wondering how that’s going to fix the broken cassette. What’s he doing?

“Soundwave?” You question again, stepping even closer, a little more concerned than you had been earlier.

You watch his servo shift producing a sort of drill apparatus. He takes one of the screws from the box and sets it against his chassis and you’re further confused because that’s not where that goes. You can see clearly that that’s where his chassis opens and not where he needs a repair, and then it clicks.

With a dawning horror that makes you want to scale him to put a stop to what he’s doing, you realize quickly that you have a blaster that’s much quicker and more effective as he starts his drill to screw his chest compartment shut. You aim and fire at the screw he’s holding, causing his servo to drop it in shock, the metal now steaming from the heat of the blast.

It wasn’t enough to destroy it, and you feel bad that it hurt him a little if the burn marks on his fingers were enough of an indicator, but the blackened screw falls at his feet instead and you exclaim, “Soundwave! What are you doing?!”

He turns to you, looking down, and you wonder briefly if this is it. Will he decide to offline you now? That keeping an Autobot captive is no longer his desire? Have you crossed the line that will now make him see you as a threat? He stares for long enough that you grow nervous and uncertain. Should you have just let him do it?

His drill has long since stopped and you lean back a little and nearly take a small step when he turns fully to you, arms lowering. He puts away the drill, but clenches his servos into fists. It’s only now that he’s facing you that you realize something that has you finally putting away your weapon.

“Soundwave,” His name is breathed with horror as you note his missing button on his shoulder and the paint scratched around that area to imply that it’s been torn away, perhaps even by Soundwave himself considering what almost just happened.

“... Laserbeak, Rumble, Ravage, Frenzy,...” He shakes his helm. “I could not protect them, and now,” You hear grinding metal as he clenches his servos further. “I cannot even protect lifeless cassettes. I do not deserve... either.”

“Don’t say that. It’s clear that they loved you, Soundwave. It’s not your fault.” You find yourself saying.

“I sent them out to perish.” He asserts, but you know...

He would not have sent them out if he’d known that’s what would happen to them, so you shake your helm, stepping closer.

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t know that’s what was going to happen.”

His whole frame is trembling and his EM field is a mess.

“I should have been there. I should know by now that these cassettes,” He places a flattened servo against his chest compartment, “are not mine, and yet...” His servo clenches, and you wince at the sound of his digits scraping against the glass.

You step forward, servos outstretching somewhat as if you could somehow stop him despite your height. You realize now what must have happened. He wasn’t thinking, he sent one out expecting it to transform... That’s why it’s broken. Your spark aches because you feel like this is your fault. Would this have happened if you hadn’t suggested painting them?

“Soundwave,” You start, pausing and startling lightly when you hear something that sounds like shaky breathing from him.

He’s crying, you realize, coolant seeping down from his visor. Your lips part it surprises you so much. You’ve never heard, or seen, him cry before. His entire frame is trembling and you can’t stop yourself from running forward and embracing his leg. It’s the best you can do at your height.

He drops down, arms encircling you, and you let him hold you, hugging him back tightly as he buries his helm against you and sobs. You can’t leave him. No matter what happens, you can’t leave him. He needs you. Even if it means your friends hate you, even if it makes you a traitor, you can’t leave Soundwave, not when he needs you here, with him.

You shake as well, expression twisting at his grief and feeling coolant drip down from your own optics. You can feel his pain so clearly, hear it in his static laden voice, feel it in his quaking frame and arms that hold you too tight. You don’t want him to suffer this alone. You don’t have the spark- or lack of one, rather- to put him through that.

You bury your own helm against him, letting him absolutely shatter for the first time in the entire duration you’ve been here. How many times has this happened when he’s left his hab suite without you? Did he go off somewhere to let off steam? To sit by himself somewhere and cry like this? Or is this the first time he’s let himself do this since their terminations?

Your grip tightens on him. This isn’t about Autobot and Decepticon anymore. It’s more than that. It’s about a mech that’s lost everything and is crumbling because of it. Perhaps, even if you couldn’t see it at first, you’re all the same underneath. This war truly has gone on long enough, long enough that both sides have lost sight to what’s truly important.

It’s about the bonds, the bots around you that you care most about, family. That’s truly what makes this life worth living, but you know neither side will yield, and being here, with him, makes you a deserter. But you can’t go back.

“It’s okay, Soundwave. I’m here; I’m not going anywhere,” You manage through the tears, feeling his hold shift on you to pull you in tighter.

You aren’t going anywhere, you can’t, because you could never live with yourself if you did, and you’re not sure what he’d be doing to himself right now if you weren’t here.