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"I call the largest room!" came Wildfire's squeal less than a second after the elevator doors opened. Heatwave heard his daughter's rapid pawsteps dash closer.
"W-Wait!" Heatwave overheard his eldest stammer. "I'm the oldest, so I should get the largest room!"
Heatwave could picture Quickshadow rolling her eyes at their antics. "They've already been assigned," came his sparkmate's firm reprimand.
Her warning didn't seem to deter Wildfire. A blur of silver-and-gray fur whooshed into the open doorway just as Heatwave was finishing fluffing his and Quickshadow's nest. "Whoa, check out that large nest!" Wildfire bolted and dramatically leapt onto the nest before Heatwave could get a word out. All of Heatwave's hard work preparing his nest for Quickshadow disappeared in an instant, but his irritation faded when Wildfire gave him a coy grin. Primus, he could never stay mad long at his daughter.
"Haha," Heatwave dramatically teased. "Very funny." He grasped his daughter by the scruff before plopping her off the nest. "You have your own room down the hall."
"Aw, no fair!" Wildfire immediately protested as her sire gently nosed her towards the doorway.
Kindle appeared in the entryway and blinked when they noticed Heatwave in the room. "Oh, uh," they stammered out. Kindle shouldered Wildfire next to them.
Wildfire seemed to catch on to their hidden message. "Oh, right!" she whispered. Both younglings stood up straight before bowing their heads at their father in a practiced performance. "Heatwave Prime," Wildfire greeted respectfully. Both younglings still had their eyes closed as they held their bow.
Heatwave's spark froze. Memories flooded into his processor about him and Bumblebee performing the same ritual every time they met Optimus Prime in public. It was the proper protocol to address the Prime upon first meeting, but to see his own sparklings do it…
Heatwave rushed forward to hug both of his younglings and held them close to his chest. "Never call me that," he fiercely whispered.
Wildfire appeared confused. She wriggled in his grasp. "But Sigil said—"
"I don't care what Sigil said!" Heatwave snapped at the mention of the senior High Council member's name. Of course, Sigil would remind his younglings about the proper protocols from long ago. His gaze softened when he realized that both younglings flinched at his sharp rebuke. "I will always be your sire first, okay? Nothing will ever change that, I promise."
His younglings still looked conflicted. Not for the first time this week, Heatwave wondered if they were still struggling to comprehend everything that had changed. Their lives had changed in an instant: moving from their dwelling in the Rescue Bot Academy on Earth to their new home in the Beacon, one of the highest skyscrapers in Iacon, the expectations of their father being the new Prime, and the increased security and guards that always monitored his family. Was it unfair of Heatwave to ask them to change so much just for him?
He noticed Quickshadow observing from the hallway with an unreadable expression. Giving his youngling one more embrace, Heatwave broke away and got to his paws. "Why don't you two go check out your rooms?" he suggested. "Let me know what you think, and we can decorate it however you want, okay?"
That seemed to lift his younglings' spirits. Wildfire's tail began to wag. "Really?" she chirped eagerly. She leapt to her paws and raced down the hallway before Heatwave could reply.
Kindle rolled their eyes. "It's the other way, Wildfire!" they called out as they left their creators' room. Wildfire followed them a second later; her silver pelt was another blur as she streaked in front of the open door.
Heatwave was finally alone with Quickshadow. He gestured with his tail at their quarters. "What do you think?" he softly asked.
Quickshadow finally padded into their room and began to look around. Heatwave had just finished adding the final touches to their room. The silver-and-black femme was quiet during her observations. He kept their quarters simple—just as they preferred it—with a large nest, a table with some chairs, and shelving units for datapads. A picture of their extended family, both human and Cybertronian, sat on the table. The nest was new, a mixture of latest soft fabricated plush bedding from Kalis.
Quickshadow stepped onto the nest with her forepaws to feel the bedding. Heatwave sat next to her. "It's brand new," he delicately offered as his sparkmate began to lightly knead. "Bumblebee said it's the finest plush he's ever slept on."
Her claws quickly became caught in the manufactured fabric, causing Quickshadow to pause and flick her forepaw in disdain as she freed herself. "It'll do," she finally meowed quietly.
She still wasn't looking at him. He stifled a sigh. For the first time in a long while, Heatwave found it difficult to talk to her. Ever since the…incident, Quickshadow has felt distant. He knew she was still adjusting to their new normal—their sparing session the other day was a stark reminder of that. He winced as he recalled how she resorted to coping with her trauma by lashing out at him until it boiled over, ending with a pain-filled yowl of despair.
"Primus, Heatwave, you were gone. You were dead. I didn't see how it happened, but Gray Dawn and I saw the aftermath, and I…for the first time in my life, I realized what life would be like without you."
He felt guilty. It was his fault that Paradox and her warriors caught him off guard. He'd been searching for Kindle, who was captured by Paradox in retribution for Nova Prime's atrocious regime on her home planet, Desolation. When Heatwave had explained that he wasn't kin to Nova Prime and all the late Prime's descendants were gone, Paradox immediately killed him. Heatwave was only revived because he finally accepted his destiny to become the new Prime. His death had been momentary, but Kindle and Quickshadow had both been there.
And then one thing led to another, and before Heatwave knew it, his family was moving from Earth to Cybertron. Wildfire seemed thrilled at the idea of a new adventure, Kindle was hesitantly optimistic, but Quickshadow remained quiet.
Heatwave was unsure how to broach the subject with her. How could he even articulate what had happened? Everything had changed so quickly. He opened his mouth but promptly closed it before he could attempt to utter any words.
Fortunately, his younglings bickering saved him from this pitiful attempt. "Kindle!" It was Wildfire yowling from down the hall. "I want this to be my room!"
The Prime lightly smiled at his daughter's antics. However, before he could offer to take care of it himself, Quickshadow was already on her paws. She averted her gaze as she passed by her sparkmate and vanished into the hallway without a parting word.
Sigil greeted Heatwave outside of the council chambers with a warm smile. "It's good to see you again, my Prime," the black-and-white mech praised as he bowed, his whiskers grazing the ground.
Heatwave attempted to hide his grimace from the senior councilmember. "Sigil."
The elderly ‘bot noticed his uncomfortable expression. "You'll grow accustomed to it in good time," the old mech insisted. He gestured with his muzzle towards the two Elite Guard members who waited a few pawsteps behind Heatwave. "How are the guards performing?"
Heatwave glanced behind the two bulky ‘bots behind him. Sigil had personally appointed them as Heatwave's guards, and the two large ‘bots accompanied him wherever he went. Both ‘bots were tall and well-muscled with permanent frowns etched on their muzzles. The Elite Guard symbol was adorned on their collar tags around their necks. They spoke rarely, though something told Heatwave that the two ‘bots would defend him with their lives if necessary.
He couldn't recall Optimus Prime ever having an entourage of guards accompanying him. Heatwave privately detested having the guards shadow him like lost souls trailing after the living, but he couldn't say that to Sigil. "Excellently," he instead replied. Primus, he already forgot their names, and he felt bad about asking again. Guess he was fortunate that there were only two and not four like Sigil originally proposed.
Sigil seemed pleased. "Splendid," he replied with a small purr. "I hope you don't mind if they wait outside the chambers. Council meetings are only privy for certain members, naturally."
"Of course." If that means I'll finally be free from them, then yes! He wondered, not for the first time today, how his own family felt about their own Elite Guard escorts. He suspected that Quickshadow had already purposefully ditched hers several times. His sparkmate was clever like that.
The doors slide open, revealing a large room. It was less flourishing than the public council chambers—simple walls adorned with artwork of the previous Primes, walls of datapads, and a hologram of Cybertron. A large table was suspended by chains sealed into the ceiling, though the table's height was comfortable at Heatwave's lower chest.
He remembered being in this very room stellar cycles ago, before his sparklings were born, when the council had summoned him shortly after Cybertron's restoration. The High Council was under the influence of Cyclonus, a former Decepticon, who brainwashed his peers to excommunicate the Autobots and Optimus Prime's memory from the planet. Heatwave had starkly refused to disown Optimus Prime's name, leading to the Rescue Bots' exile. Heatwave later learned that Bumblebee's team had defeated Cyclonus, resulting in a new High Council to be established. However, Sigil remained the eldest member of the group, having been a council member when Optimus Prime was anointed as the new Prime.
The other council members milled around the table before taking their positions once Sigil and Heatwave arrived. Sigil raised his tail. "It is my pleasure to welcome Heatwave Prime, our newest Prime, to our council meeting," the old black-and-white mech announced to the rest of the group. At Sigil's words, the other council members genuflected. Even his brother, Bumblebee, bowed.
As much as Heatwave despised the sudden displays of adoration and reverence from his fellow Cybertronians, he knew he would quickly have to get used to it. "Thank you," he stifled a reply to dismiss them. "I am honored to have your wise counsel to aid me." He recognized most of the members: his brother Bumblebee, Jazz, the former second-in-command to Optimus Prime, Windblade, a Cityspeaker from the colony Caminus, and Cyberwarp, a former Decepticon who was part of Cyclonus's council but has since repented. The other two members, Eronus and Stormcrash, were unknown to Heatwave.
"Forgive me for being curt," Sigil began as he sat down. "But we have some pressing matters to discuss before your investiture."
Heatwave nodded and sat down next to Sigil. "Go ahead."
Sigil gestured to Eronus to speak, prompting the gray-green neutre to their paws. "Iacon's police force has apprehended Paradox and her followers," the councilmember began, summoning a hard light hologram to appear from the middle of the table. Paradox's mugshot was displayed for all to see. "Investigations are already underway to uncover the expanse of their operations, but our sources have confirmed their motivations. They are indeed from the lost colony, Desolation: approximately 15 light years away." The hologram changed to project a planet: gray, shattered, and lifeless from orbit. "Information retrieved from the Hall of Records confirms that the planet was forced into subjugation under Nova Prime's administration, which resulted in some…unsavory outcomes."
Bumblebee frowned. "Nova Prime forced them to give up their planet or risk being killed out. He merely abandoned them once the planet was wiped clean of minable resources. No wonder they were upset."
"Don't tell me your time on Earth has made you sympathetic to other lifeforms, Bumblebee?" Stormcrash asked tentatively with a frown, causing the yellow-and-black mech to flatten his ears. "Our loyalty should be to Cybertron and its people."
Windblade whisked her tail. "But Cybertron is more than just this planet," she argued briskly. "The Age of Expansion resulted in several colonies, including my own, and we have a responsibility to represent all of them."
"Killing our new Prime is hardly what I'd consider worthy of fair representation," Stormcrash argued firmly.
Heatwave shifted his paws nervously as the argument continued. Was he supposed to speak up? He wasn't familiar with council proceedings, especially since Optimus Prime merely relied on an informal group of close advisors. Sometimes Heatwave would eavesdrop on those private conversations during his youth. His guardian's seconds-in-command would debate a topic while the Prime listened thoughtfully before making a decision. Was Heatwave supposed to replicate that?
He noticed Cyberwarp watching him thoughtfully from across the table. "I think our new Prime wishes to speak," the purple femme announced.
The other council members turned to look at him, causing Heatwave's fur to stiffen from the sudden attention. Instead, the red mech gave Cyberwarp a polite nod. "Thank you, Cyberwarp," Heatwave began before addressing the others. Keep calm and just speak your mind. "I…I think Windblade has a point. We have a duty to the other colonies, especially the ones who were harmed by our previous leaders." He turned to address Eronus. "What exactly does Paradox want?"
Stormcrash predictably bristled her orange pelt. "With all due respect, Heatwave Prime, Paradox and the others killed you, and you want to forgive and forget?"
"Of course not," Heatwave argued back firmly. "She killed me because I wasn't Nova Prime's kin. She wanted an audience with him, but why? I'd like to find out." To Sigil, he added, "please set up a meeting with Paradox. I'd like to speak to her."
Now it was Sigil's time to bristle. "Are…are you certain that is wise, Heatwave Prime?"
"She wanted to speak with the Prime," Heatwave elaborated. "So, let's meet and figure out what she wants."
"This is outrageous, sir!" Stormcrash went on furiously. Eronus and Cyberwarp nodded in agreement. "Surely, we cannot reward this criminal with an audience with our greatest asset. It will only set an example for others to follow in her pawsteps!" She went on more nervously, though her voice was still firm. "Think of your sparklings, sir. Kindle was kidnapped because of Paradox. Do you want to encourage that to happen again?"
Heatwave stifled the growl that was growing in the back of his throat. Primus, he didn't need to be reminded that Paradox kidnapped Kindle first. He was constantly thinking of his younglings' safety since the incident. Would his sparklings ever be safe again now that they were officially the Prime's children?
His brother must've noticed his eerie silence, because the yellow-and-black warrior was the first to break the uneasy stillness. "Let's send a representative first," Bumblebee proposed. "To learn what she really wants."
"I concur," Sigil immediately agreed before Heatwave could reply. Sigil met his amber eyes. "We can learn more about Paradox's true motivations while also securing your safety." Something in Sigil's eyes gave Heatwave the impression that he expected the Prime to concede.
He didn't feel like arguing again. "…Alright," Heatwave relented, and the meeting went on.
"I'll do my best to live up to your expectations, sir," Torrent insisted as they padded side-by-side. Both ‘bots had just wrapped up their meeting with Mortar, the Commander-in-Chief of the Rescue Bots, to discuss Heatwave's replacement at the Rescue Bot Academy on Earth.
"Don't worry about it, Torrent," Heatwave replied sincerely. "You'll do great." Torrent was the obvious choice in his mind for his successor. The sea-bot served as his faithful second-in-command for many stellar cycles, and he trusted her completely. She was a little younger than Heatwave and was already a full Rescue Bot when she was transferred to Earth as an instructor. However, she quickly fell in love with the planet, and, like Heatwave, Earth became her new home. Heatwave had faith that Torrent would excel in her new position.
They passed by other Rescue Bots and cadets as they traveled through the HQ. Each ‘bot would pause and salute when Heatwave walked by. Heatwave did his best to dampen his discomfort and merely nod at each of them. They're just trying to be respectful, he kept reminding himself, but each salute and bow felt like an additional thorn embedded underneath his paw.
The two paused when another ‘bot purposefully obstructed them in the hallway. Heatwave broke free from his musings and realized it was Fireshadow standing in front of them. The Prime couldn't help but inherently feel weary; Fireshadow was never fond of Heatwave, especially after the death of Inferno, Fireshadow's sire, during a rescue when they were trainees. Heatwave knew that Fireshadow still blamed him for Inferno's death even after all this time.
"Heatwave, Torrent," Fireshadow crisply greeted, though there wasn't any warmth in his mew.
Torrent bristled slightly. "Fireshadow," she replied curtly while Heatwave kept silent.
Fireshadow briskly nodded at her before turning his attention to Heatwave. "Sorry, am I supposed to grovel and bless the floor you walk upon now?" he bluntly meowed.
Heatwave withheld the growl that threatened to rise in his throat. "Actually, I prefer if you didn't," he admitted sternly before swiftly changing topics. "And I heard that your daughter was recently born. Congratulations. I hope both carrier and newspark are healthy." He kept his tone level and polite.
The orange-and-black splotched mech said nothing at first. After a few moments of tense silence, he leaned forward to Heatwave's ear. The Elite Guard members who always lingered behind Heatwave made a move to approach, but Heatwave stopped them with a flick of his tail. Fireshadow wasn't a physical threat, despite how much he despised Heatwave.
Fireshadow's whisper was dripping with fury. "I will never bow to you," he lowly hissed. He walked away before Heatwave could reply.
Heatwave watched the Fire-Bot disappear down the corridor. Torrent lashed out her tail. "The nerve of that ‘bot," she muttered.
The red mech couldn't help but privately agree. "Some things never change," he merely replied with a shrug. "Let's head back to Earth."
"Did you need something from the Academy?" The pair resumed walking to the HQ's GroundBridge station. They would take the ‘bridge there to the SpaceBridge transportation hub in Iacon to jump to Earth. The guards resumed following them a short distance away.
"I wanted to share the updates with Cody," Heatwave admitted. Though more than anything, Heatwave desperately wanted to see one of his old teammates. He hadn't seen Blades, Boulder, or Chase since his revival, and he wanted nothing more than to feel like his old self.
When they arrived on Earth, Heatwave dismissed Torrent so she could resume setting up in Heatwave's old office. Before heading to Griffin Rock, Heatwave wandered the familiar halls for his former teammates, though he couldn't find any of them. Perhaps they were busy.
His paws led him to the landing platform near the top of the building. Several small classes were commencing on the landing platform as the instructors reviewed spaceship protocols with the cadets. A few of them noticed Heatwave and gave brisk salutes.
Stifling a sigh, Heatwave nodded back. He surveyed the horizon. The sun felt warm on his pelt despite it being autumn. There was a mild breeze from the ocean that bordered the training academy. Heatwave wondered how often he would be able to visit Earth now that he was the new Prime. He and his family lived in the Rescue Bot Academy, but his new status forced them to relocate to Iacon. Would he still be able to visit his Earth family every weekend?
A loud snore broke the red mech from his stupor. He looked up and caught sight of High Tide napping on one of the overarching platforms attached to the Training Center's taller column. With a fond smile, Heatwave approached the platform underneath and easily bounded upwards in a single leap.
"Got room for one more?" Heatwave teasingly asked as his four paws gripped the tiny area that wasn't covered by High Tide's large lounging body. There was barely enough room for him to balance on the metal platform for long.
The old sea-bot opened one eye to glare at him. "I'd shove you off, but I think that's sacrilegious now," the navy blue-green ‘bot grunted before rolling to the side to give Heatwave more room. Heatwave chuckled as he settled down next to the elderly ‘bot. Officially retired from his rescue duties, High Tide now spent his time training the new generation of sea-fairing Rescue Bots at the academy, though more often than not, the elderly ‘bot was busy resting outside in the warm sun. Not that Heatwave minded; High Tide was a veteran of the Great War and older than Optimus. He deserved his well-earned rest.
The two mechs basked in the silence. Heatwave's two guards repositioned themselves underneath the small platform and resumed their vigil. If High Tide noticed them, he didn't say anything about it. Heatwave thought that High Tide had fallen back to sleep, but the old mech spoke up. "Heard you're the new Prime now, eh?" His eyes were still closed.
It took Heatwave a few moments to reply. "…Yeah, I guess."
"You don't sound excited."
Heatwave grimaced. "It's not that, but…" he trailed off. "…it's just a lot."
"Has to be, given it's the Matrix and all."
"I…" Primus, he didn't tell anyone this yet? "I wasn't given the Matrix."
This made High Tide raise his head. "What?" he uttered. Heatwave understood his teammate's confusion. The Matrix of Leadership was an ancient relic of Primus, and it contained all the memories and wisdom of the previous Primes to guide the bearer. It was said that only the Matrix of Leadership could choose the true Prime, as Optimus Prime was the first Matrix-anointed Prime since the mythical Thirteen. So, what does that make me? Heatwave wondered. Am I lesser Prime than Optimus? Am I not worthy enough?
"The Primes didn't give me it." The words tumbled out before Heatwave could stop himself. "They said that it wasn't needed anymore, and that I should be fine without it, but will I?" The red mech shook his head. "The Matrix guided Optimus through centuries of uncertainty. If he required the Matrix to lead effectively, then how am I supposed to live up to any of that?"
High Tide frowned. "Look, rowboat, you don't have to be like Optimus," he insisted with a drawl. "You already have an alright head on your shoulders. Let your spark guide you and the rest will come naturally."
Heatwave scoffed, though the action felt childish. He rested his chin on his paws. "You make it sound easy," he lightly grumbled.
"It ain't supposed to be easy, kid," High Tide asserted more firmly. To Heatwave's surprise, he felt the great warrior's tail rest against his flank. "Much of the Optimus Prime that you remember was already there when he was still Orion Pax. Compassionate. Honest. Thoughtful. Resolute. He was already all that. The Matrix just made it easier, I suppose. You don't need the Matrix to properly lead."
Heatwave mulled over High Tide's words. "I hope you're right, High Tide," he relented with a sigh.
High Tide removed his tail. "Your spark ain't never wrong, kid." The navy blue green mech stretched out his forepaws before curling them back in front of his chest to resume his nap. "For what it's worth, Optimus always had faith in ya."
Heatwave's interest was piqued. "He knew all this time?" he whispered with awe.
"You should know by now that your daddy was full of mysteries," High Tide went on nonchalantly.
Heatwave dimly nodded. Optimus always seemed to know more than he let on about certain things. It made Heatwave wonder how many secrets his father kept during his lifetime. Did he always know that Heatwave would one day succeed him? How did he know? Does he know that I'll be alright? Heatwave wondered. Heatwave rested his chin on his paws. He felt content with the warm Maine sun on his pelt and the soothing sound of the waves in the distance. He suddenly longed for his original life, when he only had to worry about him and his team.
"Is it wrong for me to wish that things were still the same?" he whispered, afraid that acknowledging this fear would manifest it.
"Well, the more things change, the more things stay the same," the old sea-bot grunted next to him.
The red mech pondered over his words. "…Yeah, I guess you're right," he admitted. He basically had told Torrent the same thing earlier. But what if I don't want things to change? he wondered. The pair rested in the warm silence as Heatwave mulled over their conversation.
"Hey, Big H!" Hot Shot was the first to greet Heatwave when he emerged from the GroundBridge into the bunker. "I hope you don't forget about your favorite mentee now that you're all fancy," Hot Shot teased with his signature grin as he brushed against Heatwave's pelt.
Heatwave scowled as he gently shoved Hot Shot away. "Hello to you too, Hot Shot," he scoffed. Privately, Heatwave was relieved that he convinced his two guards to wait at the mainland academy while he visited Griffin Rock. Who knows how they would've reacted to Hot Shot's abrupt touch?
Hoist laughed. "I'm pretty sure his favorite mentee is Blurr anyway," the blue green mech joked.
Hot Shot gave Heatwave a mock offended expression. "What? No way is that true! Blurr's a bigger pain in the tail than I was."
Medix joined them with a sharp frown at his teammate. "Hot Shot, Heatwave's just been appointed the new Prime and this is how you greet him?" He shook his head at his teammate's behavior before addressing Heatwave. "Welcome sir, and congratulations on your ascension to Primehood." The medic dipped his head in respect, prompting Hoist and Hot Shot to mimic him.
A fresh wave of unease drifted through him. "Thank you, Medix," Heatwave commented. "Is Cody around?"
Hoist wagged his tail. "Chief was going over something with Wes and Wedge outside. Want us to get him for you?"
Heatwave shook his head. "No thanks, Hoist. I'll go find him myself."
Hot Shot readily followed him as Heatwave headed towards the elevator platform. "Are you sure you don't want us to polish the path for you, oh esteemed leader of Cybertron?" the smaller mech sarcastically asked.
Heatwave knew that the red-and-yellow mech was just teasing, as he so often did during his apprenticeship, but Heatwave really wasn't in the mood for it. "Don't you have patrols to run?" he mildly snapped. Fortunately, the platform was opened from above, and Heatwave easily bound up into the garage in a single leap before Hot Shot could reply.
The Prime heard Medix scolding Hot Shot below, but he didn't linger to eavesdrop. Part of Heatwave felt bad for snapping; Hot Shot couldn't have known that Heatwave came here to escape his new title only to be promptly reminded of it.
The garage was empty though the doors were wide open. Pushing his thoughts to the side, Heatwave took a moment to breathe in the familiar fresh air. It smelled of the pine trees with a tinge of the crisp cold that would soon come as winter approached. Primus, he missed Griffin Rock so much. He couldn't see Wedge or Cody outside, but he spotted three familiar children playing on the basketball court.
"Hey, Uncle Heatwave!" The eldest child shouted. The three children came running over from the basketball court at the sight of the red mech. Heatwave knelt to the floor to greet them; finally, someone who won't treat him differently.
Kade and Hayley's eldest, Cayden, was the first to reach him, and the older boy gave Heatwaves muzzle a big hug. "I miss you!" the twelve-year-old insisted.
"No, I missed you more!" Riley, Cayden's younger sister, argued loudly, as she hugged the other side of Heatwave's face. Her personality reminded Heatwave of Wildfire.
Heatwave suppressed a fond purr, though he made sure that the children could hear it. "You saw me last weekend, remember?"
Riley pouted with her arms across her chest, an expression that reminded Heatwave of her father. "No, we didn't!" the eleven-year-old complained. "Mama said you were busy, which is why you didn't come."
"Oh, right." That was when the situation with Paradox occurred, and Hayley must've told the children something to appease their worries. "I'm sorry," he added lamely.
"But you're here now!" the youngest boy, Isaac, cheered. Unlike his cousins, he had his mother's dark brown hair. "We were playing Burns Ball, and you gotta play with us."
Cayden and Riley immediately agreed. "Yes, please play with us, Uncle Heatwave!"
He arched a brow. "Burns Ball, you say?" he teased, his voice full of mirth. He remembered playing Burns Ball with Cody when he was their age. "Oh, you wouldn't want that. I have the highest score in Burns Ball, and it wouldn't be fair."
Isaac leaned against his cheek with a cocky grin. "And that's why you'll be on my team," the nine-year-old proudly claimed, causing his older cousins to immediately protest.
"Hey, that's not fair!" Riley promptly protested.
Sensing an impending quarrel, Heatwave was about to open his jaws to dispel the argument when a sharp reprimand came from the firehouse. "Kids!" It was Hayley, Cayden and Riley's mother, who was marching towards them. Her ginger-haired children winced at her bitter tone. The blond-haired woman was wearing worn gloves and a sunhat. Splatters of dirt were plastered on her jeans. Heatwave suspected that she must've been pruning her garden before winter arrived.
"Kids, leave him alone," Hayley began as soon as she reached them, removing her gloves to stash in her pocket. She began to urge Cayden and Riley away from Heatwave and back towards the firehouse. "I'm so sorry, Heatwave." Hayley grabbed Isaac's hand to lead him away. "I should've been watching them better so they wouldn't bother you."
Heatwave couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. It wasn't Hayley's fault, but just for once, Heatwave didn't want to feel revered or different! He failed to mask his expression before Hayley noticed, causing the older woman to freeze momentarily. "Children, go back inside," she instead ordered.
"Aww, but why?" Riley whined.
"Because the adults need to talk," Hayley persisted and placed Isaac's hand in Riley's.
"But we were gonna play Burns Ball!" Isaac protested with a somber frown at Heatwave.
The four humans looked at him, causing Heatwave's spark to stutter. "Perhaps another time," he replied softly. "You know better than to disobey your mother's orders."
Cayden grimaced at the reminder. "Come on, guys," the older boy sullenly grumbled as he led his younger family members back towards the firehouse. Riley and Isaac were sulking behind him.
Hayley waited until the children vanished into the firehouse before resuming her attention on Heatwave. "What's wrong?" she gently asked.
Even before Hayley learned that Heatwave and his team were aliens, Heatwave had always admired her. She was patient, intelligent, witty, and capable of handling herself—traits which came in handy during her relationship with Kade Burns. He witnessed firsthand their relationship strength and evolved over time as the begrudging sixth wheel to their dates. Despite Kade's flaws, he truly loved her, and Heatwave was sincerely happy when the pair finally married and began their family.
She reminded him of Quickshadow in a sense—he knew better than to lie to her. Heatwave averted his gaze with a slight grimace. He felt better after his conversation with High Tide, though there were still things that troubled his mind. "It's just…a lot, at times," he quietly admitted.
To his utter relief, Hayley seemed to understand. "Oh, Heatwave," she gently soothed and rested a hand on his cheek to comfort him. "I'm sure this is a lot to take in." She paused for a moment before continuing. "How are Quickshadow and the kids doing?"
Like Quickshadow, Hayley had the remarkable ability to decipher what was really on Heatwave's mind. He sighed. "…They're…still trying to adjust. Quickshadow, especially," he added lamely.
Hayley gave him a sympathetic look. "Kade told me what happened. It must've been difficult for her and Kindle to witness that."
His claws burned with anger as he recalled his own death at Paradox's claws. Primus, he despised the fact that Kindle and Quickshadow saw that happen. He once again ridiculed himself for his own foolishness that led to his capture and temporary death. "I'm worried that this is just going to hurt them all in the long run," he quietly admitted. "Especially Quickshadow. She's not used to publicity." His sparkmate was still an active spy, after all, who flourished by blending into the background and going unnoticed. Was she starting to have second thoughts?
"Have you tried talking to her?" Hayley prodded. At Heatwave's shy grimace, Hayley went on more firmly, "She loves you, Heatwave. She listens when you talk, even when you believe she's not."
Heatwave rested his chin on his paws. "Not when I can barely put together a sentence around her," he admitted defeatedly. It felt like he was courting her all over again, when he spent stellar cycles just trying to find the words to explain how he felt.
She laughed. "I thought Primes were supposed to excel at talking?" she gently teased.
The red mech scoffed with humor. "Not this one, I'm afraid," he chuckled.
The two shared a laugh. After a moment, Hayley went on more thoughtfully. "Give it time, Heatwave," she advised. "It's a big change for everyone." She crossed her arms while she mused. "It took me a long time to get used to living here in the firehouse. The new sounds, the new regiment of the rescue work—not to mention the aliens living in the basement." Hayley smiled. "Kade knew all this and helped me adjust. He created the garden for me within the first month of our marriage. And look at it now."
More than a decade later, the garden was one of the Burns' prized accomplishments. It grew along the edge of the firehouse. Under Hayley's careful tutelage, native herbs, flowers, and vegetables flourished year-round. "It's beautiful as always," Heatwave praised.
Hayley beamed. "Yes, I was just working on the Lavandula angustifolia. I'm hoping to cultivate more this year." Heatwave recognized the purple flowers nestled in the garden. Hayley had donated a beautiful bouquet of lavender from her garden for Heatwave and Quickshadow's conjunx ceremony a few stellar cycles ago. The human rested her hand on Heatwave's forehead. "Just be yourself, Heatwave," she encouraged. "Remember who she fell in love with."
It was practically the same thing High Tide had told him. Heatwave mused over his family member's words, and he recognized the wisdom in her advice. "Thanks, Hayley," the red mech faintly purred. As he stood up, he cast a glance towards her garden shyly. "Uh, any chance you have any spare lavender around?"
Heatwave entered the Kaon Penitentiary with his two Elite Guard escorts practically touching his pelt. They were joined by two other prison guards once they passed through the stringent security perimeters. A senior administrator led him down a secure corridor through the maze of hallways and cells. Two additional guards stood vigil in front of the corridor's entrance, and they stepped aside when Heatwave's escort arrived. Heatwave tried to avert his gaze from the peering optics from the cells as he walked by. He hadn't visited the penitentiary before, but he knew it had a notorious reputation for housing the worst of the worst criminals on Cybertron, including former Decepticons who refused to abide by the peace treaty. Starscream and Shockwave were among its occupants.
Numerous sealed doors lined the hallway. The administrator stopped in front of open to unseal it, then stepped aside for Heatwave to enter. It contained only a single occupant: Paradox. The shaggy mottled silver-gray femme was resting on the ground. The room was divided by an opaque hard light hologram wall, with her cell occupying roughly two-thirds of the room. The femme didn't look up when Heatwave entered.
Heatwave sat in front of the hologram opposite her. "I'll be fine," he told the guards, who gave him a withering look before obediently leaving.
Heatwave and Paradox were alone now with only a hard light hologram wall separating them. He waited for her to speak. The High Council wasn't aware he was visiting Paradox, though he hoped whatever information he gleaned would make up for it. Heatwave wanted to give her a chance to speak.
Paradox was the first to speak, or rather, scoff. "I guess you should be thanking me," the ragged silver-and-gray splotched femme began. She still didn't move from her position on the ground. "Looks like Cybertron finally has its Prime."
Heatwave narrowed his eyes. "Well, you got what you wanted," he grumbled, making an effort to stand tall. "What do you want?"
Her tail flicked lackadaisically. "What's it to you?" she insisted with a disdainful sniff. "Surely I'm on death row and don't have long to live?"
Heatwave was unaware of her current sentence and privately hoped she wasn't speaking the truth. "You wouldn't have gone through all the effort of kidnapping my neutreling without a good reason," he rumbled.
When Paradox didn't reply, Heatwave shrugged. "Fine, guess this was a waste of my time." He got to his paws and headed toward the door to leave.
As expected, Paradox bolted to her paws with a yelp. "Wait!" Heatwave froze. "I mean…will you really listen?" Her voice sounded pitiful.
The Prime looked over his shoulder. "Why else would I be here?" he reasoned.
The shaggy-furred femme appeared uncharacteristically nervous. Her cocky and dismissive façade was gone and was instead replaced with an insecure and fearful demeanor. This was not the Paradox who killed him solar cycles previously. She met his gaze evenly. "To kill me."
"I'm tired of all the killing," Heatwave insisted as he turned back to sit in front of her prison. "Cybertron's had enough of that." He kept his voice firm. "Speak."
And so Paradox told him everything. How her planet was once a safe haven created during the Age of Expansion when the Titans colonized other planets under the guidance of the original Thirteen Primes. Desolation was originally called Utopia due to its peaceful government and bountiful resources. It was a planet full of wonder and harmony—until Nova Prime reopened the SpaceBridge. His legion pillaged the planet of every mineral, ore, and crumb until there was nearly nothing left for its inhabitants. Instead of taking them to Cybertron, Nova Prime instead abandoned them. It was practically a death sentence; nothing was left except dust and corroded metal. After all, the planet was desolate.
Perhaps miraculously, some inhabitants survived. The survivors swore to reconstruct the SpaceBridge and seek revenge on Nova Prime for what he had done. They restarted their technological advances from scratch—from crafting light, to harnessing energy, to welding tools to construct the portal. It was an accomplishment spanning multiple generations…and it didn't come without sacrifices. Scores of newsparks starved due to the lack of energon; Paradox recounted how her own creators sacrificed themselves so their daughter would have their share of fuel to survive. It was a pain that fueled her drive for retribution.
Heatwave recounted her story to the rest of the High Council. He summoned them immediately after their meeting concluded. "There are still several hundreds of starving inhabitants on Desolation," the Prime concluded. "We must send an envoy immediately. Paradox is willing to provide the exact SpaceBridge coordinates."
Already, Cyberwarp and Eronus were beginning to frown before he finished speaking, but it was Sigil who protested first. "This all sounds highly inoperable, Heatwave Prime," the senior council member began frivolously. "It's foolish enough that you visited Paradox without our knowledge. What duty do we have to help these people after what they've done to you?"
Heatwave was bracing himself for this argument. "Beyond the fact that Nova Prime destroyed their planet?" he tautly replied, forcing his anger to simmer.
"Paradox killed you, sir!" Stormcrash argued.
"Yes, why should we help her?" Cyberwarp added. "Suppose we do send an envoy to Desolation; we know Paradox is keen on revenge, so how do we know this isn't a trap to kill you again?"
Sigil stood resolutely. "We cannot afford that to happen."
He narrowed his eyes at Sigil's retort. "Then I'll request the Rescue Bots to help." He felt certain that Mortar would help if Heatwave asked.
"Absolutely not," Sigil argued readily. "This is matter of interplanetary ordinances, and a global organization cannot act on behest of the High Council without our approval. We have far more important matters to consider right now. We still need to talk about the finer details about your ceremony—"
That was enough for Heatwave to snap. "An innocuous ceremony is far less important than the thousands of lives that are currently at stake!" he growled angrily.
His shout echoed throughout the private chambers, causing Eronus, Stormcrash, and Cyberwarp to wince.
Heatwave internally grimaced at his outburst. He forced his spark to relax. "You wanted me to become the Prime," he went on more quietly. "Optimus wanted this too, and so do the other Primes." Sigil's brows arched at that revelation. "But I'm a Rescue Bot first, and I made a vow, long ago, to save all lives, no matter the affiliation. We are all descendants of Primus." He made eye contact with every single member of the council. "And I cannot turn my back while others need our help." He returned his gaze to Sigil. "My spark is telling me that we must do this."
Sigil's gaze was unreadable. Part of Heatwave was worried he overstepped, but he forced himself to maintain his gaze with Sigil. Eventually, the older ‘bot nodded. "Very well," the black-and-white mech relented. "We shall initiate a relief effort immediately. I will request Mortar to—"
"No, I will lead," Heatwave firmly interrupted. He was tired of Sigil coercing his opinion. He was the Prime now? Fine. Let's do this my way. "Let the people of Desolation see that Cybertron is under a new leadership. Besides." He gave Sigil a wry look. "You always say that I should do more publicity."
Sigil stiffened slightly before nodding. "Of course."
Heatwave addressed the rest of the High Council, noticing the proud expression on Bumblebee's face across the table. "Let this be a new era in Cybertron's history," Heatwave began. For once, the words came easily to him, as if he were reciting it from memory. "We should acknowledge and learn from the mistakes of our predecessors and aspire to achieve what they wanted to accomplish: a better future for everyone. We have recovered from the Great War, and now it is time to rekindle our bonds with our colonies, starting with Desolation. If I have learned anything from my time on Earth, it is that we are stronger together."
Jazz stood up from his place next to Bumblebee. "That sounds like the best thing I've heard all stellar cycle," the silver mech meowed.
"Our Prime is correct," Bumblebee added with a prideful glance at his brother. "We are a different Cybertron now. Let's use the lessons we learned from the Great War to build a new future for everyone to prosper."
Heatwave nodded. "After Desolation, I want to focus on the other colonies as well." He turned to Windblade, the only councilmember who wasn't a native Cybertronian. "Can you put together a strategic list of proposals that we should try to accomplish?"
Windblade seemed pleased at the request. "Of course."
"I'd also like to include Earth, too," Heatwave added to the rest of the group. "We've already established some colonies there, and we should continue to foster our relationship with the humans. Oh, that reminds me." He flicked his tail at Sigil, who still didn't look too pleased about the entire conversation. "I'd like my Earth family to attend the ceremony. See to it that the appropriate arrangements will be made?"
Sigil silently fumed, but he knew better than to argue. "Consider it done," he forced out.
Heatwave nodded. He wasn't sure where this new-found confidence came from, but it finally gave him the courage to speak from his spark. High Tide was right, he thought. I just need to trust my spark.
A few solar cycles later, Heatwave entered his quarters and arched his back into a stretch. He was exhausted, but also relieved. The humanitarian mission to Desolation was a resounding success. With the help of the Rescue Bots and Elite Guard, Heatwave and the others have provided enough energon to feed every ‘bot in Desolation, though his spark withered when he recalled how few survivors there were.
I just wish we could've saved everyone, he reflected. Despite their best attempts, there were still casualties. Some ‘bots were too weak to be saved. Heatwave himself sat by a grieving sire whose only surviving sparkling faded away. It angered him; it wasn't fair that ‘bots died just as helped finally arrived after generations of hopelessness. But Heatwave kept those thoughts to himself and sat next to the sire as he cried. He didn't say anything—he knew from his own grief that any words uttered now would fall on deaf ears—but he stayed by the mech's side until the sobs faded from his wracking body.
"It's unusual to see a Prime with so much compassion and empathy," the mech had later confided to Heatwave. The tears were long ago, or perhaps the mech had run out of tears to cry out.
"I'm a sire, too," Heatwave had told him quietly. "And I couldn't bear the idea of anything happening to my younglings."
It had been a long day of burying the dead and transporting the survivors to Cybertron for treatment. Desolation would soon be inhabited again, once the survivors recovered. But right now, Heatwave was exhausted. It was the middle of the night, and he did his best to quietly sneak through the common area towards his quarters.
Heatwave was mildly surprised to find Quickshadow curled in their nest when he arrived in their quarters. She was still awake when the door slid open, and his sparkmate gave him a curious look. "These are our old bedding," she commented instead of greeting him.
"Yes," he replied tepidly as the door slid shut behind him. He sat a few paces away hesitantly, hoping she would approve of the changes he made to their room. It took him a while to find their old bedding from their previous quarters. He eventually found the worn, extra-large Earth blankets in Blades' quarters, which resulted in a bit of a wrangle with his former teammate. The blankets were far from the traditional Cybertronian berth, but it was what Heatwave and his team were used to when they were stationed at Griffin Rock. What the blankets lacked in softness, they made up in familiar comfort and relaxation.
Quickshadow swerved her head to the nearby table. "And you added lavender." Her meow was void of any obvious emotion. A small pot of lavender sat on their table. Heatwave had borrowed a special spray developed by Graham and Boulder that would preserve the flowers' freshness and soothing scent in Cybertron's oxygen-less atmosphere without it wilting—at least for a cycle or two.
He shifted his paws nervously. "From Hayley's garden," he explained anxiously. "I…I know how much you love lavender." When she didn't answer, Heatwave went on uncertainly. "Quickshadow…" She looked up at him when he said her name. Her brilliant blue eyes met his amber ones. "…I know these past few solar cycles have been…a major adjustment. I'm sorry that our family was suddenly put into this situation. Is…" He trailed off hesitantly. "Is this something you even want? Do you think this is best for our younglings?" He couldn't bear the thought of being apart from his family, but if it meant that Kindle and Wildfire would be happier…then it was something he was willing to do.
She must've seen the desperation on his face, because Quickshadow widened her eyes and immediately got to her paws. "I know what you're implying," she briskly mewed. "And I meant what I said earlier: I cannot imagine my life without you. Wherever you go, I'll go, so don't even fathom the alternative." The silver-and-black femme rubbed her cheek against his.
Heatwave let out a sigh of relief inwardly. Primus, he missed her so much. "I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble," he whispered.
"I'd be lying if I insisted it wasn't a major adjustment," Quickshadow went on more quietly. "In time, we will adapt to our new normal, but this is something we can accomplish together."
As much as he felt reassured by her words, there was another question burning in his mind. "I'm not…I'm not too different, am I?" He recalled how others had mentioned how Optimus Prime had changed when he became Prime. Subtle changes but changes all the same.
Quickshadow gazed at him thoughtfully as he stressed over her answer. "No," she eventually explained. "Some things have changed, certainly, but mostly you're still the same." She gave him a fond look. "I still see you."
His tail wagged fondly. "I promise that I will always put our family first," he vowed. "I don't want me being Prime to change anything between us. I want to simply remain your partner, if you'll have me." He crouched down to the ground, letting his forepaws arch against the floor and rubbing his muzzle on the ground in a submissive posture. It was an action he witnessed Optimus perform to Arcee occasionally as a symbol of his devotion to her.
It was almost sacrilegious for a Prime to bend to another ‘bot, but it felt right in Heatwave's spark. He was bowing to her as a display of adoration. He was hers, and that would never change.
Quickshadow was momentarily stunned but as usual she was quick to recover. She gave his forehead a quick lick as Heatwave rolled on his flank. "If you like the floor so much, you're more than welcomed to sleep there instead," she teased fondly. He recognized the familiar light in her blue eyes as she padded towards their nest.
Heatwave let out a huff in amusement as he rolled back onto his belly to follow her. "It wouldn't be my first choice, no," he playfully replied as Quickshadow settled herself back on the worn blankets. He circled momentarily to knead the bedding before joining her. The Prime rested his chin on her shoulders.
After a moment, Quickshadow spoke up again. "I heard about Desolation." Her mew was curt.
He inwardly tensed. Quickshadow nearly killed Paradox for murdering Heatwave until he stopped her. "What do you think?" he quietly asked.
She met his gaze evenly, and Heatwave was relieved to find no malice in her blue eyes. "I think you did the right thing," she admitted softly. "No ‘bot deserves what happened to them."
He relaxed. "I'll always be a Rescue Bot," he confessed. "And if Sigil has a problem with that, then oh well."
The two shared gentle purrs.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" she asked, referring to his ceremony in the morning.
"No," he quietly disclosed. After a moment, he pressed his head against hers. "But I will be with you by my side."
His sparkmate's purrs deepened, and Heatwave's own purrs joined hers in a soothing symphony.
Heatwave's pelt felt like it was completely yanked out by the time the stylists were done grooming his pelt. His fur glistened from the polish they applied, and the stylists had managed to fix every tangle and knot through his medium-furred pelt. Even his bright cyan collar was shiny clean. His Rescue Bot tag was replaced by an Autobot symbol, though Heatwave managed to convince his stylists to keep his collar. Quickshadow had given it to him, after all.
Wildfire was the first to greet him when he entered the preparation chambers. His younglings' pelts were also freshly cleaned. The silver-and-gray femme leapt to her paws upon her sire's arrival. "Dad, you look great!" she chirped, but her excited mew halted abruptly with a squeak. She sat back down and gave Kindle a questioning look. "Actually, erm…"
Heatwave immediately figured out what they were thinking about: they were still unsure how to properly greet their sire as the new Prime. The red mech dampened his anger and instead padded forward to meet his younglings. He sat down in front of them, giving them both an earnest look. "Kindle, Wildfire," he began. He willed Optimus Prime's spirit to guide him to know what to say. "I know these past few solar-cycles have been not easy for you two. I'm sorry. I put you both in difficult situations."
Both Kindle and Wildfire looked aghast. "It's not your fault!" Kindle protested. "It's…" The neutreling averted their sire's gaze with shame. "It's my fault. I'm the one who was kidnapped. This is all my fault."
The Prime's spark panged at his youngling's confession. "Kindle, this isn't your fault," he quickly asserted, willing his eldest to believe him. "I promise that your mother and I have never even considered that. To be honest…this was a destiny that I've been running from for a long time," he admitted, causing both younglings to give him questioning looks. "The point is," Heatwave went on before they could ask any questions. "I don't need you to be anyone else but yourselves. Okay?" he stressed.
Kindle and Wildfire shared a look. "Sigil told us that everything will be different now," Kindle explained tepidly. "We're supposed to behave in a certain way because you're super important."
Wildfire shifted her paler paws nervously, a behavior that was uncharacteristic for her. "One of us is supposed to succeed you," she added quietly.
Heatwave wanted to throttle Sigil, but he kept his temper in check. "Don't worry about any of that," he insisted firmly. "There won't be any more successions through energon. The Primes will decide who will become the new Prime after me." He felt this ring true in his spark. He didn't want his younglings to be burdened by the weight of his legacy.
"So…" Wildfire asked hesitantly, a fringe of hope in her mew. "We can still become Rescue Bots?"
Heatwave touched his muzzle to his daughter's. "Of course," he replied. "And I look forward to watching you both accomplish your dreams. All I want is for you two to be happy." He touched Kindle's muzzle next. Emotion was brimming in his neutreling's green eyes. "I was your father first before I became a Prime, and that will never change. Things will always change, but family is forever." It was the most important lesson he learned while on Earth.
Wildfire and Kindle purred, and both younglings pressed against their sire's head. Heatwave deepened his purrs to comfort them.
He felt a gentle poke in his spark, and Heatwave looked up and saw Quickshadow. Like everyone else, her fur was sleek and shiny from the recent grooming. Her silver pelt shimmered like stardust. His sparkmate was utterly gorgeous, and the Prime was momentarily stunned by her beauty.
"You look amazing as always," he purred as she joined them. He touched his nose to hers in greeting, which Quickshadow transformed into rubbing her muzzle against his jaw.
"You're not so bad yourself," she purred. Heatwave heard Wildfire make a fake gagging noise at their visible affection.
The pair broke away when one of the aids approached. "Sir, it's nearly time," they reminded him. At the reminder, Heatwave gave the aid a brisk nod. Kindle and Wildfire were guided to the side. The younglings would join their sire after his initial speech. Meanwhile, Heatwave and Quickshadow positioned themselves in front of a large door. Beyond the metal, he could hear Sigil making the opening remarks. The entire High Council stood on the Beacon's massive balcony platform that overlooked the city center. Already, Heatwave could hear that a massive crowd had gathered. Here, Heatwave would be formally introduced to Cybertron as their new Prime.
His family, Arcee and Bumblebee, were also on the balcony, including most of the Burns family wearing special suits to breathe comfortably in Cybertron's atmosphere. Heatwave recalled how Kade had told him how Cayden, Riley, and Isaac were upset that they couldn't come, but Heatwave promised to visit his human kin after the ceremony.
"Walk with me," Heatwave quietly requested to Quickshadow as the doors began to slide open. He could hear the roar crowd eagerly anticipating their new Prime outside.
She looked surprised. "Heatwave, this moment is for you—"
"I wouldn't be standing here without you," the red mech insisted fervently as the crowd's cheers swelled. "I meant what I said at our conjunx ceremony: I want to be by your side for the rest of my life." He touched his tail-tip to hers. "And that includes here and now."
Quickshadow's conflicted expression slowly morphed into a smile. She curled her tail-tip around his. "Together then."
"Together."
The pair walked out into the blinding light and were welcomed by a chorus of cheers.