“Are you okay? You’re quivering.”

Siren looked down at his shaking frame after Nautica pointed that out. “Just let me on the shuttle?”

She waved him inside and he followed. Passengers could only be held in the single, expansive room that they loaded into, but when he looked around, it was just the two of them.

It took her a few seconds to notice his confusion had him standing still, peering into the shuttle’s dark corners instead of getting ready for takeoff. “He’s back on the Lost Light.”

“Oh.”

“Did I not mention that? I’m all over the place lately. Here, get cozy—” she patted the co-pilot’s seat. “—I’ll tell you everything.”

Takeoff required a few minutes of her attention, but she then gave him a very thorough run-down of what he had missed, from the forced exile two weeks prior up to the present, for the rest of their flight. At times, it seemed as if she were talking herself through the sequence of events just as much, if not more, than him. It was a lot to take in—he was especially upset to hear that they had lost Ten. He should have pressed so much harder to get him out of that boiler room.

Anode awaited them in the shuttle bay. She held out her hands, but Siren didn’t have anything to give her. “What? You were looking for two entire days and didn’t find anything?”

“Nope!”

“And why should I believe that?”

“Look, I’ve got miles’ worth of lunar debris lodged in my boots!” He twisted his leg at an awkward angle to try to show her.

“Okay, okay,” She shook her hands in refusal, not wanting to see his crusty underfoot. “I guess it is an exceptionally healthy yield. Makes sense that there wouldn’t be many who didn’t make it… this one was on the house, I guess.”

“No, no, you do incredible work and I can’t imagine you get to do it very often, either! Maybe I didn’t find any snowflakes, but will you at least let me transfer some shanix?”

“Now you're talkin’. How much?”

“I could never put a number on Nightbeat…” He muttered as he fumbled with his communicator. He handed it to her, ready to transfer money from his account, with the recipient and value left blank. “Here. Whatever you think you deserve.”

She whistled.

Nautica seized the communicator as Anode started punching in a lengthy number. “Excuse me, but you’ve got quite the payday incoming without his help.”

Siren looked around at everyone as he received his comm back. True, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his money while she clearly did, but on second thought, he could see himself regretting it. “…I’ll just tip you.”

Anode seemed perfectly satisfied with the still-generous amount she received. She gave the stern Nautica a mischievous grin. “Always ask for more than you think you’ll get, right? Thanks, Siren. You’re a real one!”

With Anode skipping away, Nautica returned to form. “Sorry about her.”

“It’s fine. She’s kinda funny. Where’d she come from, anyway?”

“She’s one of the ones Censere saved.”

“No kidding! He only started doing that cause Nightbeat guilt-tripped him, y’know. That’s so like him to end up saving himself by complaining. Primus, I can’t take it anymore! Can we go see him now?”

The smile Nautica had been wearing faded. “Oh, Siren. I had such a great time reliving the past on the way here that I completely forgot about the present. Truth is, he’s not exactly pleased with you.”

“He’s not? How?”

“I think he’s feeling all sorts of ways, but anger is definitely up there. Like,” She held her flat hand far above the top of her head. “I suppose I’m bringing this up because you should have the chance to opt out if—“

“No way!”

Nautica’s expression reverted back to an unexpected smile. “Okay then. Follow me.”

“So what’s he mad about, exactly?”

“Can’t say I’m sure. He just wanted to focus on helping Brainstorm out.”

“Does he know about what happened while he was out?”

“A bit. As I said, he was keen on keeping himself distracted.”

She hadn’t said where their destination was, but it quickly became apparent that it was somewhere all too familiar: Brainstorm’s lab.

“…Why this room? Did something go wrong?”

“Oh, no, no! Everything’s fine! But it’s not every day that someone with Dead Universe ties is resuscitated. Stormy wanted to get as many readings as possible. That’s all wrapped up now, but Nightbeat insisted we leave him to go over the findings while he waited for you.”

“Ah.” Siren crossed his arms tighter and stared down the door more intently. “You know what? I need a minute.”

“Of course! I’ll just, um, go… somewhere else… and do… something.”

Siren waved as Nautica pranced off in a seemingly random direction.

He had thought “a minute” was a mere excuse to get her to leave, but it turned out he wasn’t as ready as he had thought. Everything felt so mixed up in his mind. The sudden thought that, since Nightbeat hadn’t sided with the mutineers, they might have massive, glaring, irreconcilable differences of very important opinion crept in and clouded everything. Siren regretted trusting Getaway but had no remorse about his own intentions. But what were Nightbeat’s?

There was no sense getting so worked up over what might be nothing. He barged through the door. Nightbeat looked straight at him the moment he appeared—and didn’t smile. Siren’s spark sunk, and he had to remind himself that what seemed like a cold greeting wasn’t all that unusual.

The room was lit solely by the blueish tint of a massive monitor that displayed countless graphics that were indecipherable to Siren. Nightbeat rose and took a single step closer. Siren hadn’t before noticed just how many nicks, scratches, and scars Nightbeat had bore until they had been reformatted away. Siren preferred a rougher look, but a completely blank canvas was stunning in its own way.

When he spoke, though, it was clear that it was the same old Nightbeat. “Siren. Thanks for reviving me.”

Siren wondered, again, if Nautica had misreported the situation. Nightbeat certainly didn’t sound all that mad… “No problem! Really, all I did was find the thing…”

“Yes, but, if you hadn’t, I would’ve died having failed to inform you that I love you. I said it to myself so many times, I didn’t even realize I hadn’t told you…”

“Whoa, hey! I love you too! Y’didn’t have to say it out loud, don’t worry. I knew.”

Nightbeat nodded, satisfied. “Tell me you're okay.”

“I’m fine! They let me out of the medibay!”

“Good,” Nightbeat said. Siren had been about to ask him the same, but he left no room for him. “I’d hate to take this tone with someone who couldn’t fight back.”

Siren went cold. It still surprised him how quickly Nightbeat could shift his composure.

“I thought I didn’t have to explicitly state that I’d like to be informed that I’d been brainwashed again. After all that confiding in you, you didn’t bother even hinting! Is that how this is going to be? Because, if so, I’m out.”

Siren stiffened. He had just gotten him back, only to be greeted with the threat of losing him again, only this time, due to Nightbeat’s own discretion…His head a flurry of thoughts, he fumbled into a reply. “Brainwashed? Like, the nudge guns? We didn’t know they were using those—and I got hit too, okay? Twice! I know it sucks! But how could I have possibly told you?”

“You didn’t need to tell me—just given me enough to work with. Make me aware that there was something going on. You’ve disclosed so much without actually lifting any red tape. You even suppressed any little inadvertent hints you might’ve given off—at least now I know you really can keep a secret, even from me, but why was this what you decided wasn’t worth the risk?”

“It was bigger than just me! It was the whole ship—our whole race! Which, why in the name of Primus didn’t you think that was worth the risk?!”

“I declined because Getaway was in charge and I wouldn’t trust him with a favor, much less a plot—not that I remember declining, but I know what I would’ve said.”

“Hey, I’m not stupid for believing he’d deliver, okay? I—“

“Of course you aren’t. I can’t fault you—any of you—for falling prey to Getaway in a circumstance like that… I mean, he even managed to rope in Perceptor. His methodology only worked because even the most competent people can fall for it.”

Was he off the hook, then? He wanted to be, but it didn’t feel quite right. None of this felt quite right. “Nightbeat, I don’t want to fight. I was wrong, okay?”

“I wish I could just forgive you like that. But you left us for dead! You’re the very last person I would have ever expected that from!”

Each word hit like a dagger—it was amazing that Nightbeat could seethe so effectively while barely raising his voice. “That was their idea! I tried to go after you! I made it all the way to the shuttle bay before they tried to murder me!”

Nightbeat moved to speak but instead burst out laughing. “Of course you did.”

That laugh always did something to Siren, but instead of replacing the defensiveness he held, it was added on, doing little more than confusing him.

“…Speaking of being murdered, I’m starting to notice that coming back to life has this amazing ability to put things in perspective. Maybe I’m being… a bit… irrational.” He whispered the word as if it were a curse, his displeasure with it eclipsing his displeasure with Siren. “I don’t want to fight either. But I need answers.”

He sat back down at the corner of the table, inviting Siren to take the seat adjacent to him. Siren huffed. Once things got heated, it was hard to just stop. His body shook in a manner more befitting of a battlefield than a confrontation between friends.

“So.” Nightbeat switched off all the tech he had been keeping himself busy with earlier, leaving them nearly in the dark. He settled into a comfortable pose—that he always seemed so much calmer than Siren had a grounding effect, historically, but now it felt to Siren more like envy. “What exactly made it so important?”

“I—“ Siren started. He seated himself, but it didn’t help. Why was he so nervous? Nightbeat was trying to hear him out. That should have been reassuring, but that there was still a possibility he might fail to win his favor was terrifying. “I just felt like everyone in charge had let us down, and there was Getaway, not an authority and promising to do something about it… honestly, that’s the same reason I signed up for this quest—there was Rodimus, promising to do something. Course, I knew how that turned out, so I don’t really know why I thought it was a good idea.”

“Yes, you do.” Nightbeat gestured to his own face. “You always frown like that when you’re hiding something.”

Siren antennae laid flat. Nightbeat’s attempt to illustrate the expression he apparently bore was distractingly cute. “I mean, I was totally alone! It’s like I was on a completely different ship than everyone else! I wanted to expand my horizons but instead my world got so small! During sign-ups, the roster was turning out like this is where everyone who didn’t know what to do with themselves was going, so I… I thought I had a chance. I was so excited, even though I didn’t really take, at first, but I chalked that up to everyone needing to get settled. But… then… years passed, and nothing changed! Do you have any idea how completely soul-crushing it is to not fit in somewhere where everyone’s an outcast?!”

“Of course I do.”

Siren was skeptical that it truly bothered Nightbeat as much as it did him, but the fact that it bothered Nightbeat at all made him want to do everything in his power to rectify it. “…And then along came Getaway, making it sound like if I helped him out instead of just adhering to the routine command had for me I’d finally get noticed… it was like a dream. Sure, he was skimpy on the details, but he assured me it had to be like that, and he was obviously putting the work in to make it actually happen!

“It was so promising. And it totally snowballed. Other than the Knights it was the only thing I had to look forward to for so long—course, it’d have to happen to actually get to the Knights, so. And then we got stuck with Megatron and it was just the most backward thing imaginable. And of course Hosehead had to agree it was a good idea. And then, you… it seemed like you were in on it, too.”

“Well, that wasn’t a completely unfounded impression… except for the fact that it was Getaway.”

“Wait, Is—is that why you were being so weird when we were in the brig? You don’t think he deserved that?”

“No. No, that’s when I began to suspect that there was something fishy going on. You do know why he was in there, don’t you?”

Siren realized for the first time that he didn’t.

“He was trying to frame Megatron. Seeing him there, the how and the why both became clear—get an escape artist like himself hacked up on a ship that’s got no other means of making sure he doesn’t get out? Forcing command to gore him like that? The stuff rumors are made of. You’d better believe no one was comfortable doing that to him.”

“No kidding…”

“I wanted to ask you about it, but you’re real hard to talk to when you want to be, so naturally, I gave you some space to cool off… not knowing that very well could’ve been the last chance I had.”

“You should’ve told me you were leaving.”

“You were mad. I didn’t want to pester you.”

“But—still—! It wasn't like it was a little day trip, you were going after a distress beacon!”

“Mystery was calling me. Not an excuse, I’m just… not used to having affairs that need to be kept in order.”

“Well, you need to.”

“Finish explaining yourself and we’ll see if I do.”

Siren looked down at his lap. Why wouldn’t Nightbeat just let him surrender? He was more than willing to. “This whole thing isn’t gonna sound good no matter how I explain it! I just latched onto the first thing that seemed promising! We all did! Because our literal lives were on the line—in the captains’ hands! Out here, poor management gets you dead—and we got proof of that real early on!”

“Siren, that’s all sound logic. Like I said, that’s not what I’m upset about. I want to be able to trust you, that’s all.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You can start with what it is you’re keeping from me.”

“You said I didn’t have to!”

“Ah, it’s that, is it? Then we seem to be at an impasse.”

Siren reconsidered why he hadn’t told him before. Nightbeat was right, he could keep a secret, no one but them ever had to know he had broken his vow of silence. “I really want to tell you.”

“I would really like to hear it.”

“But—if Prowl finds out—more importantly, if Kup finds out, my life is over. So I need you to promise you’ll never ever tell… not what I told you, not that I told you, no matter what conclusion we come to today.”

Nightbeat crossed his arms in further contemplation. “That’s a tall order.”

“But it’s what it’d take!” Siren laughed in frustration. Couldn’t Nightbeat see what he saw, that he was willing to trust Nightbeat with his life, his reputation, everything? Didn’t that deserve some reciprocity?

Nightbeat took his sweet time deciding. “Alright. I won’t, ever.”

Those were some of the most precious words Siren had ever heard. He pushed through his choking up. “Okay. Okay. It’s like this: Springer comes to me for this prestigious mission to rescue Kup, of course I say yes. I get word of who I’ll be leading and I’m surprised because it’s almost entirely people who have never done this kind of work before, but I brush it off—why? Overconfidence, in myself and Springer, and everyone else.”

Primus, this hurt to go back to. Siren kept inadvertently increasing the speed at which he spoke, wanting it to be over. “Not just overconfidence but logistics, too. This was only a few years ago—end of the war. The more paramilitary you kill off the less there’s gonna be, that’s just how it is. But of course once we’re out on the field no one knows what they’re doing and I forget that so much of our slang and shorthand makes no sense to the unseasoned… by the time I felt like I should do something—anything—it’s too late. There’s not enough of us left to fight back, and if we stop cold then everyone before died for literally nothing.”

“So this time you figured it was better to lay the groundwork beforehand.”

“Which didn’t work.”

Nightbeat shook his head, not only in agreement with Siren, but at everyone who had allowed such a thing to happen to him.

“I feel so blind, Nightbeat. I followed Springer without question. From there I decided that’s something I have to start doing. Then with Rodimus, and Getaway, I didn’t ask the right questions and—look where we are. Because of that, I lost you!”

“That’s not your fault.”

“That’s not the point!”

“You’re too hard on yourself. It’s a skill. It takes time. You did what you could with what you had. Better that you decided to start practicing it now than never. But, no more of that, okay?”

For the first time yet, Nightbeat shifted to the edge of his seat and placed a hand on Siren’s knee. Siren felt cold and hot all at once.

“I won’t let something like that happen again. Any decision you want peer-reviewed, I’ll do it. Always.”

Siren stammered. That time he couldn’t suppress his feelings anymore, a few tears escaped his visor. He hid behind his hands, but Nightbeat moved them away to carve the edge of his finger into the seam of Siren’s faceplate, forcing the tears out before they had a chance to corrode. Why had he hid? He was overcome with a feeling of security. To think that it hadn’t even been a year since they had met. Usually Siren had to spend much longer convincing people he was worthwhile. Did they simply have a natural affinity? Were they equally desperate? Siren was reminded that there was still plenty about Nightbeathe didn’t know. “It really was just Getaway that stopped you from joining, huh?”

“Yeah.” Nightbeat sat back a little. “Well, I would’ve wanted to know all the particulars, but in principle, yeah. Rodimus doesn’t get special treatment just because I happen to like him. I would certainly hope my subordinates were willing to stick up for themselves like that if I were in charge—and Rodimus knows that from experience. I’ve been his superior plenty of times and he’s disobeyed me about as many. It goes both ways.”

“And Megatron?”

“We were in pursuit of the answer to a question of critical importance, he was only here to obstruct us from our goal to bide his own time—what do you think?”

“Do we literally just agree?” Siren finally felt comfortable stretching his stress away. “What a load off. I feel a thousand percent better. How about you? You don’t have any post-revival complications?”

Nightbeat tried not to smile.

“What?”

“I missed your accent, is all. It’s pretty rare these days, I’m glad I get to hear it again.”

Siren knew how to take a compliment, but he’d never once received one pertaining to his voice. “It’s not like I’m the only one…”

“Yeah, right. Let me just go hit up Frenzy and Rumble.” Nightbeat snorted. “That wasn’t the point. To answer your question, I’m fine. If anything, I feel about seven million years younger.”

“Wait, seven million?!”

“Well, that’s rounding up. You’re barely one to talk. And what did you think ‘first wave constructed cold’ meant?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t realize it was that long ago!”

“Do you even know how old you are?”

“Like, five million, right? About?” Siren shook his flat hand in estimation.

“Close enough. You might wanna work on that. Being able to recall exact dates without references can make or break a case, you know.”

Siren took Nightbeat in again. There they were, just talking. He would have fought so much harder for the privilege. “Wait, so, if you’re constructed cold, shouldn’t your spark’s code for your body be different than what you ended up with? How come you still look like—well, yourself?”

“We're not sure.”

“Oh. Fun! One more thing to wonder about! Maybe it has something to do with the Dead Universe?”

“It's possible.”

“Okay, well, speaking of the Dead Universe… it's the entire reason you’re in this lab, and I didn’t even get to ask.”

“Situation’s the same. Nothing to worry about.”

“But you… kinda died. In this universe, this time. So did you see something?”

“Actually—“ Nightbeat stopped short in reaction to Siren’s uncontainable excitement. Siren gathered himself. “I did see…something. I don’t know if I should believe it, but yes, I saw the afterspark, or something like it. It wasn’t like Mederi, it wasn’t what I was expecting—it was—it was indescribable. Incomprehensible.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well, I didn’t solve it like I wanted to, I just stumbled in. And having any experience like that on a holographic moon doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

“Well, but—this was after the spark extraction, you mean? How could it not be real?”

“I’m not sure.”

Siren sighed in preparation. “Walk me through this, Nightbeat. What happened?”

“Okay, but—I should preface this. My little crisis of faith has reached a conclusion. I’m sure you’ve heard that it turned out the Guiding Hand were hardly any more special than you or I. Now the Titans seem more mystical in comparison, but we know they’re not special, either. Not what I was expecting, honestly.” Nightbeat shrugged.

He shrugged. A divine truth was revealed and all he did was shrug. “…You seem less affected by that than I thought you’d be.”

“Any Neoprimalist who came online before the war has had to do some reevaluation in their time, or else they’d still be Primalists. The way I’ve envisioned the gods has changed plenty of times. Not to mention that I was already primed for this thanks to my little crisis of faith. It’s gonna take a bigger wrench than that to upset me.”

“Oh, right. Hm. Wow. I’ve never thought about Primus so… concretely.”

“No? Their exact nature has kept me up plenty of nights, but I never particularly cared what form that answer took, just that we didn’t know.”

Siren nodded along. That made sense, but still, it didn’t sit quite right to brush it off so easily. Then again, Nightbeat’s reaction to such a revelation was almost zen—maybe it was Siren who could stand to take a page from his playbook in this situation before his own crisis brought this exchange to a halt before it had even begun. “Okay, backdrop established. What exactly happened?”

“Those Scavengers, those Decepticons who’re running around, they figured out that when presented with a group, Mederi’s appearance as a setting locks onto the strongest will…”

“Oh—and you all saw the afterspark. But I’m sure you weren’t the only one who’d wanna see that.”

“Definitely not, but the form it took was so familiar to me. There’s so much debate about what it might be like, but it was how I always imagined it’d be.”

“You should’ve been done for right away, then, huh…”

“Should’ve, but I’m difficult like that. Mederi didn’t interpret my desire just so—“ he pinched his fingers, nearly touching, “—and gave me one of the biggest disappointments of my life. Sure, it was right about ‘afterspark’, but just getting there wasn’t enough, I wanted to have figured it out—and the fact that my performance hasn’t been exceptional lately definitely fueled that… I've been falling apart. When was the last time I solved something of any actual significance? There was a mutiny right under my nose and I didn’t think anything of it. So Mederi realized the particulars of my desire and corrected for it, but it couldn’t change the form it’d taken or the jig would’ve been up, so instead it gave me a trail to follow.”

“And that lead to…?”

“Rung’s true purpose.”

“What’s that?”

“Your psychiatrist. No one was sure what his alt mode was for, remember? Thanks to some developments in the Functionist Universe we settled on printing photonic crystals, but that wasn’t it.”

“What was it?”

“He made the Matrix.”

Siren waited for more but soon realized that was all Nightbeat had to say. “Uh… sorry. I mean, that’s cool, it sounds important, even, but… that’s what you wanted… more than anything?”

“Someone had to figure it out.” Nightbeat crossed his arms.

“I get that! It’s just—” Siren huffed. He felt as if he were crossing a balance beam, trying not to upset Nightbeat while also communicating how completely backward that desire sounded. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t fathom that being Nightbeat’s be-all-end-all. “Nautica saw Skids.”

Nightbeat frowned—that struck a dissonant chord. “This is the Matrix we’re talking about, to be clear.”

“I get that! I just followed its map for five years, you think I don’t think it’s one of the most important things there is?! But, still, it’s just that—a thing. A conduit. Seriously, which is more important, the Matrix, or the Prime it chooses?”

“One could say the Prime is the conduit there.”

“Would you, though?”

Nightbeat stopped himself short of an instant reply. “Actually, I’m not sure…”

“It’s just—I don’t know, Nightbeat, when I thought I was done for, I thought about you,” Siren labored to finish his sentence, voice cracking. “but you didn’t think about me.”

“I didn’t know it was killing me.”

“But it showed you what you wanted most!”

Nightbeat began tapping his fingers against his upper arm.

“It’s not even—it’s not even that it wasn’t me. There’s no one you’d wanna see again? Not anyone?”

Nightbeat grumbled, sighed, and grumbled some more. “If you hadn’t noticed, you’re here because I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Not enough? You can’t make a comparison here. Who knows how Mederi quantified desire? I’m really wishing we actually could study its source code now: how did it decide? Did it tally up a handful of memories? Or as complete a set as it could manage? Would it have included or excluded the time I spent brainwashed? Did it draw solely from who I was in the instant it scanned me, or did it try to create a life-spanning, generalized idea of me? Because, Siren, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve only known each other for a few months.”

Siren couldn’t decide whether that was actual wondering or a long-winded excuse. “But what about Skids?”

That time, Nightbeat failed to think of an excuse.

“Chromedome wanted Rewind. Rewind wanted Dominus. Brainstorm wanted Quark. Roller wanted Springarm.”

“I have a niche to fill.”

“Cyclonus wanted Tailgate!”

“Since when is it unacceptable to go against the grain?”

“Since you cared more about that than the people around you?!”

“Someone’s got to be willing to get down in the weeds.”

Siren fought the urge to storm out. “Ugh! What?! How can you be serious? I’m genuinely struggling to understand. All you wanted in life was a factoid? Who cares where the Matrix came from? All that matters is what it does, which is, you know, connects people.”

“It’s attitudes like that which make my work all the more important. The lengths I’m willing to go to wouldn’t have to be so great if everyone else weren’t so dismissive.”

“But—Nightbeat! You can’t—you can’t just throw yourself around like that! Like you don’t care! There’s some things that just aren’t fucking worth it!”

Nightbeat nearly flinched. Siren had meant to sound more level-headed than that, but it seemed he was destined to sound as strong as he felt. “Yes, there are.”

“Okay. Um. You know what? I’ll see myself out, then, since we obviously don’t agree. Better to quit while we’re ahead.”

Siren took a few steps towards the exit. Wasn’t Nightbeat going to stop him?

“Siren, stop.”

“I’m serious!”

“I know. But—I can change, can’t I?”

Siren let out a heavy sigh. He gave the command console for the door a long look before returning to where he had been. “You sound like you’re asking yourself that.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry about all this.”

Not quite willing to dish out an apology in return, Siren crossed his arms in the same instant that Nightbeat uncrossed his. “I’m getting the sense that there’s a massive, looming issue I’m totally unaware of.”

“Not totally.”

At first, it seemed Nightbeat was searching for how to put it, but after a tense moment, all he managed to do was slowly shake his head.

“You don’t have to put it perfectly, Nightbeat. Just get it out.”

Nightbeat didn’t budge—so articulation wasn’t the issue, then.

Siren sighed. It was bad enough that his partner was being guarded, least of all towards him. What could he do in that situation? Guess at what was on his mind?

Siren gave him another prodding look. Nightbeat, again, made no advancements.

Guessing it was, then. “Hey. I know you know what it’s like to harden up, to convince yourself that death doesn’t affect you. It’s what we all had to do for so long that no one’s really questioned it.”

Still nothing, but he was clearly listening. Siren was on something of the right track.

“But the more I learned about your deal the more I kept wondering if it was really something you could ignore. I keep asking myself: can you imagine what it must be like to think that, willingly die for the cause, and then come back? It’d cause a total disconnect between your internal world and the external one. To be trying to mourn yourself, but seeing every day how all your friends and comrades just moved on, like it never happened. You live to solve problems and that’s fine but if that’s the thanks you get? You’d wonder how much they ever really cared. That’s enough to make you question everything. To ask questions that are way beyond your depth that no one in history has been able to answer.

“But you see what’s bothering me? You latched on to the most difficult question there is, where the only way to get closer to knowing is to die. Which, I’m sorry, Nightbeat, but I like you better alive. I happen to know that for a fact!”

Nightbeat buried his head in his hands but didn’t let himself hide there for long. “…You and me both. It’s not like I sat down and picked it from a list—like seemingly everything else these days I had no say in the matter. I’m absolutely terrified to die… and exposure’s only made it worse.”

“You’re not afraid of much, are you?” Siren laughed half-heartedly. “You couldn’t possibly know how to handle a fear that heavy if you don’t have fear in general. There are some things it’s perfectly logical to be afraid of.”

“But I didn’t used to be. I don’t think you can truly understand the wake of devastation that not seeing an afterspark left me in. And I hadn’t even thought about anything you just mentioned, not consciously at least, but it’s salt in the wound.”

“I never said I understand.”

Nightbeat glowered.

“Just cause I don’t understand doesn’t mean I can’t care. It really hurts to see you like this. It’s worse to know it got you killed. I missed you. A lot. More than I thought I would. You mean a lot to me.”

Nightbeat looked so weary. Not the reaction Siren hoped for, but one he completely understood. ”This would all be so simple if that weren’t the case for us both. I can’t imagine what my being gone did to you… but after seeing Nautica remember me before I could even recall who I am or what had happened, and seeing you now… you both have such light in your eyes. No one has ever looked at me like that. I’m starting to understand. I don’t want to hurt you again. I wish I could tell you it won’t happen again, but…”

“But what?”

“But I… never had to account for someone else before. Not like this. I’m completely out of my depth. Any trust I’ve put in anyone—not that it’s been nothing, I trust a lot of you with my life, but that’s just being an Autobot. Before there were Autobots, and before anti-Functionists, I never took it further than was needed for a case. That’s how I thought I wanted it. No matter how hard I try to be understood there’s always a fundamental disconnect, so why bother?

“But then Nautica had to come along and think I was just so interesting and bombard me with questions, make it her mission to understand me and, unbeknownst to her, open my eyes to what I’d been missing all along. I was always so lonely, and I didn’t know anything else, I thought that was just what it was to be me—but I was so wrong. She’s the first person whose advice I’ve heeded even when I didn’t entirely buy it—like when she insisted I ‘get over myself’ and give you a shot.”

Any other time, Siren probably would have found that amusing.

“And how right she was. I never should have listened. I thought I knew better than to hurt you. How could I ever do this to you?” In a fit of frustration, Nightbeat clumsily removed his visor, which took Siren by surprise—he had worn it so constantly that Siren had thought it was an anatomical feature as opposed to an accessory. Still frustrated, he stood up and began pacing. Siren followed, stationary and table-side, caught off guard by how bright Nightbeat’s unfiltered optics glowed.

“How could you do this to me?” Siren echoed. “That’s what I’ve been getting at. Everything can be explained, right? Even behavior that seems irrational. So?”

Nightbeat fell into yet another stretch of silence. Siren hoped that presenting the situation as a problem to be solved—because that’s what it was—would inspire Nightbeat to start finding a way out.

It took time, but it worked. “Have you ever died and come back? Twice? It doesn't matter who revived you, or why. Once is enough to realize that you don’t have control of the only thing that’s truly yours. Maybe I could’ve handled it if I had caught a glimpse of the afterspark that first time. And—like you said before—due to the circumstances I can’t be entirely sure that there is nothing to look forward to. So I have to determine which it is. I just have to. Take away an already stubborn person’s agency—to try to corrupt and conquer the world they’ve spent their life defending, no less—and if and when they get it back, it’ll be with a complete and utter vengeance. I almost don’t recognize myself—it’s like Nova’s still the one in control and I’m helpless to do anything but sit back and watch. You’re a car, you understand—when you’re so focused on your destination and it feels so urgent you stop minding your speed, and before you know it, something’s in the way, but no matter how hard you brake, you’ve accumulated too much velocity and crash.”

Siren felt as if half his body had collided with a wall and been crushed beyond recognition just hearing that. “You’re lucky you’re not totaled.”

“Not literally.”

Siren winced. “Nightbeat, I had no idea it was this bad.”

“That’s by design.”

“You should have told someone.”

“I told Censere. And you!”

“But not the whole truth. Not the part of the truth that you shouldn’t keep to yourself. I would’ve rather known the severity than what it was that was wrong!”

Nightbeat chewed on his lip. “It’s not as if the idea never crossed my mind—that’s why I was willing to test the waters by telling you. But it’s just not something I do. It’s… hard. And I’d gotten by just fine before.”

Siren huffed. “I know you think if you just help everyone else that along the way you can work your own stuff out through them without ever having to actually air it. And I’m not saying that doesn’t ever work, Primus know I made a career out of that, but there’s no such thing as a cure-all.”

No response. Siren hadn’t just struck a nerve, he’d torn through a major artery.

“But if it’s—” Nightbeat stuttered. “Then I—”

Siren waited, but the point never came. “If what?”

“Solving things, Siren! It’s all I have!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Purely on instinct, Siren grabbed Nightbeat’s upper arms, then, more gently, slid his hands down to his forearms. “You’ve got more than that.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’ve got me!”

“That’s not the same at all. I can’t use you. You’re not a methodology. No one person can always be there, but it can. And it’s always worked. Why isn’t it now? What, am I just supposed to walk around, living my life, not knowing how it works? What if all of this is an illusion, or a test, or a punishment, or—”

“Calm down, Nightbeat…”

“Or worse—what if none of this means anything, leads nowhere?” Nightbeat shoved Siren off of him. “How are you supposed to know how to live without knowing what living is? How can you possibly be okay with that?”

“Because people I loved losing the privilege of being here made me realize how precious it is, even if there is something greater or realer or something like that. This is where I met you, I think that’s pretty special.”

If only slightly, Nightbeat backed down.

“And before you bring up that I might not be real, or you might not be real, just give me the benefit of the doubt, okay? I’m sentient, I swear.”

“That’s exactly what a setpiece would say.”

Siren smiled, just because he had gotten Nightbeat to smile for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “Which is why you should believe me! Anyone who could come up with an illusion this sophisticated would make their fake people more convincing.”

“…Fair point.” Nightbeat let himself smile just a bit more, but he was still far, far from satisfied. “I wish I could just let things go like that.”

“You just did it.”

“For the sake of this conversation. It’s not like you just instantly converted me. But you’re so genuinely accepting when there’s something beyond you, it’s bewildering. How do you do it?”

Siren didn’t know what to say, or how to explain it. It wasn’t something he had ever even realized he had done… but the desperation in Nightbeat’s voice made him determined to try. “I do what I can. Would I like to understand the inner machinations of the universe? Sure! But I’m not banking on it. What’s real to me, what’s around me, what I can do something about, that’s what it makes sense to care about. Back home the Functionist Council was always messing with us, decommissioning anyone who couldn’t help excavate the place. I never stopped trying to understand why they made the choices they did but I didn’t drop everything to do it, because then I’d never be around to pull people out when we upset the canyons and caves we made by digging too far in. We managed to fight the Functionists off because we felt we were worth defending. So it just wouldn’t make any sense to me not to give what’s around you everything you have.”

“That—“ Nightbeat stuttered, almost sheepish. “That reminds me of something you helped me realize earlier.”

“Yeah? What?”

“When I told you where your money comes from. It was then I finally understood that information can’t benefit anyone just by being available. Change has to happen, too, but sometimes it’s not possible. I really thought it would help… all I did was make you aware of how powerless you were in the situation. It felt awful.”

So that’s what that was. “Was that a first?”

“No, I tell clients bad news all the time… but that instance really struck me. Your problem felt as if it were mine.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“Maybe cracking the afterspark really would’ve helped the old me, but he was single. I still want to know, but I see now where that leads.” Nightbeat choked on his words, half of them inaudible. “I need to change, but I don’t know how to…”

“I’ll help you figure it out! And, hey, you know what it is you want. That’s half the battle already! You aren’t totally lost.”

No matter how hard he tried, Nightbeat couldn’t reply. Tears escaped his uncovered eyes. Siren held out his arms, and Nightbeat accepted the embrace, clinging to him with a strength Siren hadn’t realized he possessed. Dissatisfied with the gaps, he buried himself further into Siren’s frame. It took minutes upon minutes of increasing pressure before Siren arrived at the amount that finally made Nightbeat relax.

Even then, Nightbeat held onto him. Siren ran his hands against his plating endlessly. Thawing out the cold of nearly seven million years of isolation didn’t happen instantly. He would stay there forever if that was what Nightbeat needed. ✧