Title: Everything Will Change: Intersecting Lines

Author: pl2363

Series: Transformers AU/G1

Rating: T+

Notes: Soundwave has done what he has to in order to survive in a warrior's world, while Blaster wonders if he'll ever find love. Circumstances soon alter their perceptions of the world and what they expect from life.

This story was inspired by several fics. The one influencing the start of this story is 'Imperium in Imperio' by Mirage Shinkiro. I will list other fics as the chapters move forward.

Warnings: I have taken some liberty with the personalities of each main character to add drama and emotional depth the story as well as created my own reasoning behind the cassettes and how they are created and grow, which is not at all cannon.

A big Thank You to both my betas: Mirage Shinkiro & Starfire201.

Title taken from the song "Brand New Colony" by The Postal Service.

Early War, Cybertron:

The buildings in the area had been reduced to nothing more than smoking piles of rubble. Large pieces of twisted metal dotted the landscape, jutting upward as if reaching toward the sky. Soundwave silently picked his way through the tattered-looking scene, scanning for life. The battle between the Decepticons and council's forces had moved toward this small town, obliterating it. After the Decepticons won the battle and pushed back the council's forces he had been dispatched, along with a few others, to explore their newly claimed area and look for any survivors.

No matter how many times Soundwave walked a scene like this, he never got used to it. He knew his unease with the panorama before him stemmed from surviving a similar situation himself. Images of his creators' limp and broken frames flashed across his processor, causing him to pause mid-step. Memories of holding the lifeless hand of his one father as Soundwave lay pinned under a piece of heavy roofing from their destroyed home flashed through his mind. That hand had been so cold to the touch. He rubbed his own hands together as he tried to escape his painful memory. Just then, an energy signal pinged back at him.

Soundwave looked out over the destroyed landscape, scanning to locate the energy signal. Using his specialized visor, he flipped between different types of light and heat readings until he spotted two small outlined forms about 50 meters away. He carefully made his way toward them.

Drawing near, a small wave of concern hit him as he realized these forms were about the size of sparklings. Megatron always sent sparklings to a special training camp in order to raise them as more warriors for his army. Soundwave didn't really agree with the practice, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Megatron did as he pleased, and those that opposed him were often slagged for their efforts. Soundwave learned that lesson well by watching Starscream cross the line, and knew he'd be best served by remaining on their faction leader's "good" side.

As he reached the area where the two survivors were, one of the two readings seemed to flee. He knelt down and lifted up a piece of a broken table that covered the non-moving signal, revealing a small black and red colored cassette beneath. His spark lurched in his chest at the discovery. Another dual-pulse sparked mech had lived here?

Dual-pulse sparked mechs were very rare, created by accident when creators spark merged while one was already sparked. The results could go one of two ways: twining or a dual-pulse. Soundwave had been the secondary. In a sense, he had two separate sparks that had fused and were now pulsing as one in his chest. Once a dual-sparked mech reached adulthood those two energy signals pushed against one another eventually creating a budded sparklet from the opposing friction. Due to his young age, Soundwave had only created one before the war stole his family from him.

Soundwave stared down at the unconscious cassette that had been sparked by a mech just like him. A fully formed mini-mech meant that his creator had been much older, since sparklets created at later stages in life tended to be more complex. Soundwave shifted his view up and scanned, looking for the body of mech that had created this small being. Nothing registered. He had always felt alone in the world. Isolated by his condition. He glanced back at the small cassette, then carefully reached down and ran his fingers over the tiny chest. He identified several areas of damage over the small frame, none of which were life threatening. Such an advanced creation struck Soundwave with a sense of awe. Would he one day be able to make one like this? What kind of life would this cassette have now that his creator was most likely deceased? And what was the second signal he had picked up? Another cassette, perhaps?

"Get away from my brother!" The second survivor slammed a piece of piping into Soundwave's head, knocking him sideways. He managed to maintain his balance in his crouched position, though. He turned his attention to a second cassette, locking gazes with the small mech's fiercely glowing red optics. "I said, get away from him!" the cassette yelled as he swung again at Soundwave. His hand flew up, catching the pipe before it slammed into his head again.

"Is your creator deceased?" he said in his monotone voice. Internally he winced, hating how he sounded when he spoke. He had barely survived the bombing of his hometown, and among the many scars he bore from his near death was his voice regulator, which had been half-crushed when the house he grew up in collapsed over him. The Decepticon medics managed to restore his ability to speak, but his voice had been forever altered as a result.

"Yeah he's slaggin' dead!" The small mech struggled with the pipe, trying to gain control over it again. "They're all dead! 'Cept me and my brother. Now get away from him you giant fragger!"

Soundwave rocked back on his heels and pushed to stand, while still gripping the end of pipe. "Ravage: eject." His chest plate opened and his one creation popped out of a specialized subspace pocket, transforming mid-air and landing at his feet.

Stilling, the small mech stared at Ravage with wide optics. "Y-you-you're-" he stuttered. "-just like our creator…"

Ravage tentatively moved closer to the small cassette, bowing his head.

"What is your designation?" Soundwave asked.

"I'm Rumble, that's my brother, Frenzy." Rumble's grip on the pipe loosened. "This the only one ya got?" Soundwave's attempt to distract had worked.

"Yes." Soundwave stooped down and scooped up the unconscious cassette, cradling him in one arm.

"Hey! What do ya think yer doin'! That's my brother!" Rumble let go of the pipe, choosing to pound Soundwave's legs with his fists instead. Ravage bumped his nose into Rumble's side, trying to push him away from Soundwave.

"Please come with me." Soundwave ignored Rumble's beating fists and started back towards the encampment.

"Wait a second! Come back here!" Rumble shouted as he followed. "I want my brother! Give him back!" Desperation and fear bled into the small cassette's voice.

Soundwave stopped walking and gazed down at Rumble. Sadness tugged at his spark as he stared at the small mech. Rumble's optics were surging brightly, his forehead crinkled and his mouth pulled down into a deep frown. Soundwave saw all the anger, fear and loss this poor little mech was carrying all on his own. To lose everything all at once was an agonizing experience Soundwave could certainly relate to.

He knelt down so he was optic-level with Rumble. "Situation is dire. Please, come with me."

Rumble's optics looked glassy as he seemed to fight back tears. "You gonna kill us?"

Shaking his head, Soundwave carefully wrapped an arm around Rumble's small frame and shifted to stand, holding Rumble against his side. "Repairs will be made."

"So…wait. You're gonna keep us?" Rumble frowned.

"Choice to stay with me is up to you." In truth, Soundwave would be more than happy to adopt them as his own. They were a rarity among a rare class of mechs, being highly complex mini-mechs. But he also knew that meant they'd have to accept living in close contact with a mech they didn't share an energy signal with.

"Hmph. I dunno." Rumble fingered his brother's foot just within his reach.

They walked the rest of the way back to the encampment in silence, with Ravage trotting along beside them.

Glancing at the small purple cassette he held, Soundwave couldn't help but hope they chose to stay with him. His existence within the Decepticon ranks was a lonely one. His sheltered upbringing left him at a disadvantage when it came to socializing and more often than not he was treated like some sort of freak because of his spark condition. Interacting with his fellow officers was a highly stressful activity he preferred to avoid whenever possible. All he had was Ravage to keep him company, so the prospect of two more to also spend his time with greatly appealed to him.

Earth, in the present:

"You fragger!" Rumble rocked to one side with the video game controller in his hands.

Soundwave had salvaged a human gaming console from a refuse dump and repaired it for Rumble and Frenzy to use. They were seated on the floor of his quarters, playing a racing game, deeply engaged in their heated competition.

"Oh, no way! You're gonna pay for that!" Frenzy threatened as he too rocked back and forth with the controller, as if the motion might aid his virtual vehicle.

"No no no no!" Rumble yelled.

"Ha, Ha! You crashed!"

Sitting on the berth with his back propped against the wall, Soundwave watched them in silence. Despite the fact he was never really alone, he still felt quite isolated. Having Rumble and Frenzy along with Ravage and Laserbeak did help him cope with his overwhelming loneliness, but he still felt an odd yearning for something more. It was a desire he couldn't even properly describe. He despised everyone around him and he certainly wasn't the outgoing social type, so he couldn't understand why he still felt so empty when he had constant companions.

"Hey, you on second shift today?" Frenzy asked as he half turned to look at Soundwave.

"Yes," he replied.

Rumble paused the game just as his virtual vehicle crested in a mid-air jump. "We goin' with you?"

"Not necessary." Soundwave slid off the berth and stood.

"So, we can stay and play then?" Frenzy asked, his voice hopeful.

Soundwave nodded.

"Frag yeah!" Rumble unpaused the game and the two were immediately reabsorbed into playing, barely acknowledging Soundwave as he left the room.

He quietly traversed the hallways of the Nemesis, heading toward the main communications room. Dirge and Thrust were chatting in the hallway just outside the doorway to Soundwave's destination. Both hushed up the moment they saw him and walked off without saying a word to him. Staring down the hallway at their retreating forms, he frowned behind his mask. He didn't want to be friends with such lowlife mechs, but at the same time he couldn't deny it hurt to always be shunned in such a manner. Shrugging it off, he headed into the communications room and settled in for his shift.

Less than a breem later, music of an electronic genre softly played, echoing off the metallic walls of the comm. room. Soundwave had plugged into the mainframe via a wire from his wrist to directly work with the downloaded communications and signal files. When he finished with the first set of files and found nothing significant regarding Autobot activity, he decided to take a break and open up the Decepticon comm. link lines to listen in on what his fellow officers often assumed were private conversations.

Pieces of conversations echoed inside his processor as he listened.

"No fragging way! That's got to be a mod of some kind…"

"…I can't stand that aftwipe, Starscream. Blah blah, I'm the next leader, blah! What a moron! Ha, ha, ha! …"

"… lick every inch of your wings, then …"

Soundwave sighed air from his vents. The conversations were always the same. All Decepticons ever seemed to think about was war or fragging. It both intrigued and irritated him that they all seemed so simplistic. He found their lack of overall foresight and attention to detail often contributed the blunders that had prevented them from completely dominating the Autobots. The only one that ever attempted to properly think things through and act accordingly was Starscream. Unfortunately, he was so abrasive in his approach that he usually went unheard or was dismissed entirely. Soundwave knew better than to try and change the situation by force. Instead, he observed and made calculated moves when it was necessary. His overall objective had nothing to do with winning the war for the Decepticon cause, though. His goal in this war was to survive it.

Heavy footsteps sounded down the hallway outside the communications room. The steady and stiff gait was one Soundwave had committed to memory. It belonged to Megatron. He quickly cut the sound to his music and turned off his connection to the Decepticon comm. lines. Straightening his posture, he stared at the screen in front of him, which was playing several different video feeds at once.

The sound of his leader's footfall stopped at the doorway, and Soundwave glanced over, offering a nod of recognition.

"Soundwave, I need you to send Laserbeak out to scout a missile silo for me." Megatron waltzed into the room as he spoke.

"As you command." Soundwave leaned back in his seat, and ejected Laserbeak. He hated using his cassettes as tools for war, but made sure he upgraded both Ravage and Laserbeak with weapons they could use to protect themselves with. He had also been the one to add the pile drivers to both Rumble and Frenzy's arms.

Laserbeak circled the room then landed on Soundwave's shoulder. Megatron walked over and took hold of Laserbeak's head between his forefinger and thumb. "My little bird of prey, I need you to go to the missile silo out in the Mohave Desert and record how many humans maintain the facility."

Laserbeak squawked, then took off, flying out of the room and presumably toward his assigned destination.

"As usual, you and your 'pets' prove to be loyal and quite useful." Megatron rested a hand on Soundwave's shoulder and squeezed. It took all of Soundwave's energy not to shy away from the touch. He absolutely hated anyone touching his plating other than his cassettes, but knew better than to show his distaste for the physical gesture.

"I live to serve you, Lord Megatron," Soundwave replied obediently.

"Of course you do." Megatron spun on his heels and walked to the doorway where he paused to look back at Soundwave. "I expect a full report when Laserbeak returns."

Soundwave nodded.

The moment Megatron's footsteps faded away, Soundwave accessed his feed to Laserbeak's camera, posting it on the monitor. With his own creations he had a weak bond that he could use communicate basic emotions or feelings. Over his connection to Laserbeak, he made it clear he wanted him to proceed with caution. For the next two Earth hours he ignored the rest of his shift duties, focusing solely on his creation's trip and mission. Soundwave would only be happy once Laserbeak was back and safely stored in his chest.

Once all the intel was gathered, Laserbeak started his journey back to base, only to suddenly fly off course and land in a tall tree. Soundwave sent his concern to his cassette, wanting to know why he had veered off course. The video feed zoomed in on an outdoor concert, and he could faintly hear a human band playing on the distant stage. Laserbeak apparently wanted to share something he knew Soundwave liked. Then the camera whipped around and zoomed in on a parking lot beside the concert area. Soundwave furrowed his brow behind his visor as the camera focused on two Autobots. Worried, Soundwave decided to use his comm. link. "Laserbeak, return," he commanded.

Defying his order, Laserbeak's camera tightly focused on one of the two Autobots, the one called Blaster. Soundwave's spark contracted in its chamber and ached a little. The only other dual-pulse mech he had ever encountered was an enemy to his faction. He had always wanted to meet another mech like himself, but circumstances being what they were, meeting Blaster was not a possibility. He often wondered what it might be like to talk to someone that shared his condition. He was also curious if other dual-pulse mechs felt just as isolated and alone despite the fact they had constant companions, or if he was he just a product of his parents' overprotective behavior.

He silently stared at the screen, watching Blaster as he rocked where he sat in time with the music and laughed and joked with his companion. A feeling of envy crept in. Blaster looked so at ease. He seemed to be having so much fun. Soundwave never really enjoyed himself like that. He wasn't even sure he was capable of behaving in such a calm, fun-loving way.

Finally breaking his view away from the screen, he stared down at his own hands that were clutching the edge of the computer console. He messaged Laserbeak over the comm. line again. "Laserbeak, return."

Reluctance pushed back at him through their thin bond, then resignation. He looked back up to see Laserbeak had taken to the sky again, and he softly exhaled air from his vents as a wave of relief washed through him. The last thing he needed was to lose one of his precious creations to the Autobots.

They were all he had in this world.

"Hey come back here, you!" Blaster nabbed Eject just before he went running out of the wash rack stall still covered in suds from the cleanser. None of his creations had gotten a good scrub down in a few Earth weeks, so as soon as Blaster got off his shift for the day he asked Jazz to come help wrangle them in the wash racks.

Jazz started laughing. "Man, they're all hyped up!"

Blaster carted Eject back into the stall and held him under the spray of water. "I know, I don't let them outside my quarters much. They get all excited when I take them out."

"You should let 'em out more," Jazz said as he carefully sponged down Ramhorn.

Blaster couldn't hold back his frown at Jazz's suggestion. He didn't like letting them out around everyone else. A lifetime of having negative reactions heaped on him about his odd spark and ability to create life had left deep scars. By hiding them away most of the time, he was able to fit in easier and socialize while also keeping them safe from ridicule. Jazz was one of the only mechs Blaster even trusted enough to let his cassettes out around. He was also one of few mechs that hadn't recoiled or asked embarrassing questions upon meeting his creations the first time.

Rewind picked up a sponge off the floor of the stall and started to rub it on Steeljaw's side. "Rewind, he's already cleaned up. You don't need to do that." Blaster set Eject down to reach over to take the sponge away from Rewind. His mini-mechs were a lot like young sparklings. They didn't speak more than a few words and they were very playful and curious.

"All righty, Ram. Let's get ya rinsed off." Jazz grinned as he led Ramhorn over to the sprayer to rinse him off.

It warmed Blaster's spark to see Jazz helping to take care of his small collection of creations. He actually had a long-standing crush on Jazz, but no matter how much time they spent together it never moved beyond a friendship. Finding love as a dual-pulse spark wasn't an easy task. Blaster had been told since he was small that would never be able to bond. His spark's energy was too strong and could extinguish another normal spark. Still, he hoped he might find someone to be his companion and lover, someone who would be willing to accept him as he was. Jazz had great potential as a perfect match. They had similar interests and could spend hours together without ever getting annoyed at one another. If only he was better at flirting, then maybe Jazz would see him as more than a friend.

Eject suddenly made a break for it, laughing as he ran out of the stall again. "Eject!" Blaster hopped up and chased him out into the main area of the wash racks. He glanced around, but didn't see the small escapee anywhere. "Eject! Get back here!" He made his way down the row of stalls checking each one, but Eject was nowhere to be seen.

"This yours?"

Blaster spun around to see Ironhide, partly covered in suds, holding Eject's arm. "Oh, sorry 'bout that. He got away from me." He scooped up Eject, holding him to his chest as he offered the elder warrior a sheepish smile.

"You need a leash for those things," Ironhide replied as he returned his own stall.

Things. Blaster hated when his creations were called 'things'. They were sentient beings just like the rest of them. They just lacked full spark coding and would never 'mature'. He glanced at Eject whose frown indicated that his happy mood had evaporated. "You're not a thing, and I love ya," Blaster said in a low voice, nuzzling Eject's helm as he walked back toward the others. Eject rested his head on Blaster's shoulder and grew still. Through their thin spark connection, Blaster could feel his small creation's sadness. It angered him how Ironhide's thoughtless words could harm them. It really was better for them to remain hidden away, safe from hurtful words or dangerous situations.

Stepping back into the stall he found Jazz drying off Steeljaw while Rewind tried to do the same to Ramhorn. Being small, though, Rewind kept tripping on the oversized drying cloth.

"Slag, they are cute," Jazz said as he finished up Steeljaw and turned to help Rewind.

Blaster looked at Eject who was watching his brothers. "Let's get you dried off, too." Eject gazed back at Blaster and then nodded, a small smile returning to his face.

As soon as everyone was cleaned up and dried off, Blaster stood up and smiled down at them. "All right, back ya go." His chest plate opened, revealing his specialized sub-space pocket. Each transformed and returned to him. "Thanks for helping me out," he said as he met Jazz's visored gaze once they were all safely stowed away.

"Anytime, man!" Jazz gently play punched Blaster's arm.

"We goin' to see Combustible Edison play in the park tomorrow night?" Blaster asked as they walked out of the wash rack area together.

Jazz slapped his hand to his forehead. "Slaggit! That's tomorrow? I totally forgot! And I went an' made plans with Prowler."

"Oh." That's right, Prowl was Jazz's best friend. Blaster knew there was no competing for Jazz's attention when Prowl was involved. The two had been best friends going back hundreds of stellar cycles, and Jazz always put Prowl first. Blaster had only known Jazz a fraction of that amount of time, which seemed to relegate him to second.

"Aww, man, I'm sorry. Look, lemmie see if Tracks'll give ya a ride out, 'kay? I don't want ya to miss the concert just 'cause of me." Jazz looked extremely apologetic, but it didn't lessen the sting of being essentially ditched.

"Yeah, okay." Blaster forced a smile.

It hurt to be second, but Blaster hid it as best as he could, smiling and acting as if it didn't bother him at all. They talked about music and other upcoming concerts they could go see together as they walked back towards the barracks. It was a masquerade Blaster was extremely adept at, pretending everything was fine while inside crumbling to pieces.

"Well, I think I am gonna turn in for the night. Catch you later, Jazz." Blaster said in a completely faked cheerful-sounding tone.

Jazz half-smiled at Blaster. "Yeah, I've got early shift. Guess I should do the same. See ya tomorrow!"

They parted ways, each heading towards their own quarters.

As the door to Blaster's quarters clicked shut with him inside, he immediately deflated, sinking to sit on his berth. He placed a hand to his chest, feeling the comforting thrum of his cassettes within. Tears of coolant pooled on his optics as he allowed the feelings he held back in Jazz's presence flow through him. On the surface Blaster had it all: great friends and a job he was really good at. But he yearned for more than that. He wanted to find someone he could love and who would love him and his creations. If not Jazz, then who? He shook his head, trying to defy his own thoughts. It has to be Jazz, he mentally insisted.

Lying back on his berth he stared up at the orange-tinted ceiling, feeling that hollow loneliness take over. Someday Jazz would see. He just had to.

The early evening air felt crisp, chilling Blaster's dermal plating as a light breeze brushed over his frame. Tracks dropped him off at the edge of the large county park where the concert was taking place. Blaster asked him to stick around to see the band play, but Tracks refused, explaining he had an appointment to have a hand waxing done.

Blaster meandered by himself toward the edge concert area and found an out of the way spot to sit. The grass was cool to the touch and tickled a little, invading plating seams here and there. After he settled in, he smiled and waved at the handful of people nearby, who didn't even think twice about having the Autobot in attendance. They were very trusting, all things considered. But he also called ahead to the organizers to be sure it was all right for him to come, so perhaps they already expected to see him here.

Glancing around, he noticed many of the humans were congregating in pairs. Some held hands, others stood close, and still others were standing around in half-embraces. Even organics were reminding him just how alone he was at the moment. No Jazz to sit and joke with. Not even Tracks to tease.

Pulling his legs to his chest, Blaster folded his arms over top of his knees and rested his chin on his arms. He focused on the comforting sensation of his cassettes vibrating within him. No matter how bummed out he would get about being alone, reminding himself of their presence always made him feel a little better.

The concert soon started, and Blaster happily listened to the lovely music wafting through the crisp night air. The live music was even more amazing than the studio tracks he had a copy of, and he decided to record the concert to share with Jazz later. He was soon lost in the rhythmic beats and beautiful voice of the singer, forgetting about all the things that had been bothering him. Human music was so different than Cybertronian music. Blaster adored the less rigid sounds and shifting pitches often included in human songs.

Before he knew it, the concert wrapped up, and Blaster got to his feet as he watched the band exit the stage area. He stood around for a little while, chatting with some of the nearby concertgoers about how great the band had been to hear live. Once the light conversation ended, he said his goodbyes and started back across the park to meet Tracks at the agreed upon location.

Picking his way through a small grove of trees, he suddenly had an eerie feeling that he wasn't alone. Pausing mid-step he heard the distinct crack of branches under someone's foot, but not his own. He swiveled his head around trying to pinpoint the source. In the darkness of the tree filled part of the park, Blaster spied two, small, red optics watching him. By the offset look and shape he knew immediately who had been stalking him. Ravage.

Whipping out his weapon he pointed it at the glowing red optics. "Back off, Decepti-kitty." Fighting a cassette always bothered him. No matter how many times he came up against Soundwave's creations, he still felt a pang of guilt over possibly harming them. Still, unlike his own, Soundwave's cassettes were armed and potentially dangerous, and he couldn't let his emotions cloud his judgment in a fight.

Ravage whined, then ran off back toward the concert stage area, where several humans were still milling around. Fearing for their safety, Blaster gave chase, hoping to cut him off before he could harm anyone. Ravage made a sharp turn just before they reached the back edge of the seating and ran out from the tree line into an open area on the far side of the park where the tennis courts were.

Blaster chased him to the court area but lost sight of him in the darkness. "Hm, got away. Wonder what he was doing here alone, anyway," Blaster muttered to himself as he turned around, scanning the area for Ravage's telltale red optics. He kept his rifle raised and ready to shoot as he visually scanned for his foe.

"Fighting is unnecessary," a monotone voice said from behind where Blaster stood.

He whipped around and spotted Soundwave on the opposite side of the chain link fence that wrapped around the courts. The Decepticon stood like an unmoving pillar, his optical visor glowing deep crimson. Ravage suddenly appeared on the other side of the fencing, running toward his creator. He then jumped up and transformed, returning to Soundwave's chest.

"Hold it right there!" Blaster yelled as he took aim with his rifle.

Soundwave's visor flashed briefly then dimmed.

Blaster charged up his weapon, which made a high-pitched whirr. In his experience, crossing paths with the opposing faction always meant fighting, even if it happened to be another dual-pulse spark mech.

"The big guy doesn't want to pound ya, but if you don't put that fraggin' gun away we will!" Blaster then noticed both of Soundwave's mini-mechs were standing just in front of him. In the dim lighting from distant park lamps, he could make out he silhouetted outlines of their arms transformed into their signature pile drivers.

Blaster lowered his weapon, knowing he might be able to take Soundwave alone, but with his advanced mini-mechs armed and ready to go he knew he was no match. He often questioned how Soundwave could be comfortable with allowing his creations to fight. Blaster protected his cassettes and hardly ever let them out on the Ark, let alone in a battle. They were far too precious to him. What kind of cold-sparked mech would send his own creations into a fight, anyway?

"Rumble, Frenzy, return," Soundwave ordered.

"But he's armed! Let us protect ya!" Rumble protested.

"Yeah!" Frenzy chimed in.

"This is not the place for a battle. Return," Soundwave replied, his chest opening for them.

"You got lucky tonight, Autobrat!" Rumble said in a biting tone just before he and his brother both transformed and returned to Soundwave.

Confused, Blaster furrowed his brow at Soundwave. "Since when do Decepticons not fight?"

"Decepticon objectives not relevant now. I choose not to harm another dual-pulse sparked mech." Soundwave's demeanor remained stiff.

"Oh," Blaster's own posture deflated, although he remained suspicious.

They were quite possibly the only two dual-pulse sparked mechs left now that their civil war had thinned their population. He had wondered from time to time about Soundwave and their unique shared spark condition. If the war hadn't forced them to opposing sides, would they have met one day in a friendly manner? Did they have anything in common other than their odd sparks? Considering the extensive lengths Blaster went to in order to protect his creations and Soundwave's apparent lack of care, he highly doubted they were similar at all outside their spark conditions.

Blaster frowned at Soundwave. "We're nothin' alike, you and me. We only have one thing in common. Plus, it's obvious you don't care about your creations like I do, sending them out to fight all the time."

"That assessment is incorrect." Soundwave faintly canted his head. "Fighting is Megatron's will, not mine. They are all I have and I do what I must to ensure their safety."

Ensure their safety? Their being armed was so they could protect themselves? Blaster wasn't sure he believed Soundwave, but a part of him wanted to. He didn't like to think any dual-pulse spark mech could be as cruel as Soundwave appeared to be. "You sayin' you have no choice?"

Soundwave nodded, then lifted up into the air, utilizing the Decepticon ability to fly. "The concert was pleasant."

Blaster was surprised by the sudden change in subject as well as the commentary. "Were you here for the concert?"


Soundwave seemed to hesitate, as if there was something more he wanted to say. Blaster furrowed his brow at his supposed enemy. Just as he was about to say something about Soundwave's paused state, the large blue mech took off into the night sky without another word.

Dumbfounded, Blaster stared up into the darkness over his head where Soundwave had disappeared, trying to figure out what the frag had just happened. Soundwave had just talked to him instead of trying to shoot him? He was here for the concert, too? He actually claimed to care about his creations? Blaster shook his head. Maybe his processor had just been scrambled or something… It seemed too weird to have really happened.

:: Blaster, where are you? I thought we were meeting at the corner of Huntington and Oak. :: Tracks snide voice said over his comm. link, startling Blaster from his thoughts.

:: Oh, yeah. Sorry dude. I'm on my way. ::

Blaster replayed the interaction with Soundwave in his processor as he crossed the park to Tracks' location, trying to make sense out of it. But…it made no sense. Not unless Soundwave wasn't the mech he appeared to be when their sides fought. I don't let on what I'm really like, Blaster thought. A lonely, sad excuse for a mech that can't get up the courage to say how I feel most of the time. Blaster frowned.

"What's with the blue look, Blaster?" Tracks asked.

Glancing up, Blaster realized he had already crossed the park and forced a smile. "Nothing. Everything's great."

Blaster decided he didn't want to tell Tracks what had happened as he transformed and took a seat inside the Corvette's leather interior. It would have sounded like he was making it up anyway. A peaceful encounter with Soundwave? Yeah, right. Even Blaster was having a hard time processing it as the truth.

Still, something about the interaction was undeniably fascinating. Soundwave had been here for the concert, not to pick a fight.

Maybe they did share more than a spark condition...maybe they had similar taste in music.

That thought caused an uneasy feeling to roll through Blaster. He didn't really want follow that line of thinking to its endpoint. It was easier to see all the Decepticons as big, dark, ugly foes, not mechs he had things in common with. Seeing Soundwave as an equal not mortal enemy would make it harder to fight him the next time they crossed paths in battle.

Mentally shaking off the whole incident, he decided to pretend it hadn't happened at all.

A/N: I will try and update weekly on this. Thanks for taking the time to read.