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Pharma looked absolutely exhausted by the time the emergence was finally over. Tarn had sat by him for the entire procedure, cringing as his servo was squeezed with an intensity he didn’t think was possible from the shorter bot, brushing off all those insults and accusations being screamed his way as Pharma sobbed with pain.
“I can’t believe you put another one inside me!” he had shrieked as coolant rolled down his cheeks, “This is all your fault!” He had cried after the pressure had him throwing his helm back against the medical slab, “Your stupid tank genetics! Get this damn thing out of me!” was another thing that was said, though, the last bit was snapped with ire at poor Nickel instead, who was grimacing the whole time as she tried to help coax the sparkling free.
Tarn did his best to comfort Pharma through it all, told him how well he was doing, and how this will all be worth it once their second sparkling is birthed. And he was sure Pharma appreciated it, he sometimes glanced up at him with a glint of appreciation in his optics, but, mostly, that just made him scream more.
But Tarn’s words rang true in the end, as these past few hours of torment were rewarded, and their sparkling was finally pushed free. Pharma had done so well, and Tarn hoped the kiss placed to his dear conjunx’s helm got his appreciation across well enough.
“We got a healthy sparkling here!” Nickel both gleefully and tiredly announced, holding their dear child carefully in her arms as she moved to hand him over to the awaiting parents.
Tarn got a good look at him then, and part of him almost wanted to laugh. It honestly felt like he was looking into a mirror of his past, staring at a frame coloured most noticeably in bright orange. Cybertronian genetics had always been an enigma. Their first-born resembled Pharma mostly, while taking colours from Tarn’s current frame. Their second, however, looked more like an amalgamation of Tarn’s two bodies. An orange tank with no hints or red or blue on him at all. His helm shape was so reminiscent of what Tarn’s had been when he was Damus, before he’d had his face removed, and something about that fact tugged so heavily at his spark.
Pharma also got a look then as he groggily looked up, raising shaking arms to accept their sparkling from Nickel. He paused though, as the sight of their child properly sank in.
“... Are you sure it’s mine?” he dizzily asked, confusion and tiredness dripping from every word.
That, of course, got a loud and surprised laugh from the smaller doctor.
“What? Yes!” she exclaimed, “Pharma I just pulled this out of you.”
Pharma frowned, clearly puzzled, but he tentatively accepted the child anyway as Nickel placed them in his grasp.
He looked at their child, and then he turned to face Tarn so warily.
“I swear I didn’t cheat on you,” he panickly strained out.
Tarn felt a little guilty that he found the situation so amusing, and he leaned close to place another kiss upon his conjunx, this time on his cheek.
“I know,” he answered warmly, “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
Pharma still seemed puzzled, but he glanced back to their sparkling anyway, his brow ridge furrowing as he seemingly scrutinised them.
“Y-Yes, but-”
“I trust you, Pharma,” Tarn reassured him, a sentiment that was half true given the jet’s penchant for deception, but on this matter at least he knew with certainty that this sparkling was finally theirs.
Thankfully, Pharma finally relaxed at that, and Tarn could see a tired smile finally beginning to tug at his lips.
“He is very beautiful,” the jet relented, a soft and airy tone hanging over his voice, “He has strong features, I’m sure he’ll be handsome just like his sire when he gets older.”
Tarn beamed at that. He was sure this child would grow to have the face he once lost, and there was something both so touching and poignant about that fact. It made him feel so proud, and it made him feel so wistful. It was a serene concoction of conflicting emotions, something messy and deep, seeping into his spark in a way that was almost suffocating.
But he loved every second of that smothering feeling.
They allowed Carbide in soon after, once their newest addition to the family had finally stopped crying. The little orange tank now lay snuggled up to his carrier’s chest, clearly comforted by the humming of Pharma’s spark. Carbide stood upon Tarn’s lap, looking with wide optics at his little brother.
“He doesn’t look like both of you,” he eventually stated with the bluntness that was very normal for toddlers.
Thankfully, Pharma had recovered from his exhaustion some more by this point, and he simply rolled his optics at that comment.
“Well, Cybertronian genetics are strange,” he answered simply.
Tarn chuckled at that. Maybe one day he would tell Pharma about Damus.
“And he is so big,” Carbide continued, sounding almost offended by that fact, perhaps not too pleased that his own height was lacking in comparison.
“He sure is,” Pharma muttered in a deadpan tone, glancing at Tarn with an obvious stare of accusation.
But that went entirely unnoticed by their child, and Carbide simply leaned closer to his little brother, scrutinising the sparkling in a similar way that Pharma had before. He jumped back a little, however, as those previously closed optics slowly opened up.
Tarn was unsurprised when it was a soft blue glass that stared up at them all.
“He heard me,” Carbide whispered guiltily, saying away from his brother’s gaze.
Tarn smiled at that, and he reached over to brush a digit gently over their youngest’s cheek. His other digits ended up inadvertently resting their knuckles over the sparkling’s little chest, and even from that simple touch Tarn could feel the humming of their spark. It was a strong vibration, warm and low, a deep purr in his tiny frame that exuberated power, one that was so similar to his own.
If there had been any doubts on this sparkling’s parentage -which, of course, there wasn’t- then it certainly would have been cleared up immediately at that simple touch.
“Well, I named the last one,” Pharma started then, interrupting his thoughts, “Did you decide what we should call this one yet?”
Tarn hummed thoughtfully at that. They’d discussed it, of course, and Pharma had made it clear that their sparkling would not be named after Megatron, but Tarn had simply said that he couldn’t be certain of a designation yet until he actually saw their child.
And now, part of him was tempted to pass on his own former designation, simply because of how uncanny this mirror image was. But he’d discarded that name, and his sparkling was deserving of one of their own.
Besides, at that deep and beautiful humming of their spark, a better designation had settled into his mind.
“I was thinking...” he started as he gazed upon their child warmly, smiling as those blue optics stared back at him, “Baritone.”
Pharma made a pleased tone at that, as he let his helm rest against Tarn’s shoulder.
“Baritone,” he repeated warmly, “That’s so nice, oh thank Primus,” he laughed then, “I really thought you were going to say something stupid like ‘Nortagem’.”
Tarn frowned.
“What?” he asked.
“Megatron, but backgrounds,” Pharma answered simply.
Tarn vented; he hadn’t even thought of that.
“You have so much faith in me,” he responded dryly.
Pharma chuckled then, but any foul moods risen from his taunting were immediately washed away as the jet leaned up to kiss him.
“Clearly not as much as you have in me,” Pharma teased playfully afterwards, “Seriously, other than being a tank, this sparkling looks nothing like you.”
It was clear that last part was more him thinking aloud, still trying to grasp his helm around how their genetics had made a child than came out orange...
One day Tarn would tell him just how wrong he was. Baritone looked so much like him, and Tarn welcomed both the pain and pride of that fact.
“Nor you,” he simply teased in return, smirking at his conjunx, “’Is it mine?’ Wasn’t that what you asked before?”
Pharma rolled his optics at the reminder.
“You push a damn tank out of you first, and then you can criticise me for not having my bearings straight away,” he huffed.
Tarn chuckled, but he decided not to push their banter any further. Pharma needed his rest, after all.
So, for now, he simply enjoyed this moment for what it was, feeling Pharma’s warmth beside him, while looking down at their two sparklings. They looked so different from each other, to the point where it was almost impossible to tell they were brothers, but, of course, both of them were so utterly perfect.
Pharma really had given him everything, hadn’t he? Sworn himself as his conjunx and then birthed him two wonderful children.
Tarn truly was blessed, and all that was given to him he would protect until the day his spark eventually faltered. His family would never know pain while his spark still hummed with life, while it still sang with that baritone note, and he would tear apart anyone who tried to challenge that fact.