He woke up quickly, looking around the dining room, having apparently passed out at the table. The memories were so crystalline for that first fractional second.

Orion: She knows me. She KNOWS me . . .

But it didn’t last long. The fuzziness of it all quickly retook his mind. And suddenly all he really remembered was the letter he’d spent so long on, and the image of Jasmine.

And the promise. The promise of all things stuck in his mind.

‘I promise it’s only a temporary goodbye, Sweetspark . . . I’ll find you . . .’

Sweetspark? Wasn’t the conventional word SweetHEART . . .  ?

He tossed the word around in his mind slowly, mulling it over, even speaking it a few times slowly, feeling it roll off his tongue. Sweetspark, sweetspark . . .

It felt right, but it didn’t seem to fit in the conventions he knew.

He did his best to shake it off and drudged up the few stairs to his bedroom, lying down on the soft mattress, quickly falling into the unconscious world. But it wasn’t a very restful sleep.

He lay with that femme again, holding her close, abdomen still small, that no one would suspect what was growing within her. But he knew. He rested a large, metal servo over her abdomen lightly, kissing her temple.

She, in turn, rested her green helm against his chest, breathing slowly. She’d become accustomed to the idea of the sparkling growing within her, but it was often required for him to reassure her that he was here, that he would always be here, taking care of her and their small one, no matter her fears that he would indescribably leave or that she would somehow not be good enough for their sparkling.

It made him smile, to see her so nervous about soon being a parent, when all he saw in her was every trait she held that would make her irrefutably wonderful for the job.

Her passion, her caring nature, her caution, her smile . . . he loved her smile . . .

He pulled her closer, squeezing her lightly. Slowly he shuttered his optics, feeling her relax against him.

She would be so perfect, she would take such good care of their sparkling. He hummed a slight melody as she drifted off, earning a small smile, so he sang it aloud in a low, sweet tone.

Optimus: “I could stay awake just to hear you breathing, Watch you smile while you are sleeping, While you're far away and dreaming, I could spend my life in this sweet surrender, I could stay lost in this moment forever, Where every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure. Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep, Cause I'd miss you babe, And I don't want to miss a thing, Cause even when I dream of you, The sweetest dream will never do, I'd still miss you babe, And I don't want to miss a thing, Lying close to you feeling your heart beating, And I'm wondering what you're dreaming, Wondering if it's me you're seeing, Then I kiss your eyes, And thank AllSpark we’re-.”

He was interrupted by a small, feminine digit pressing lightly against his lips.

Maiden: “I appreciate the gesture, Optimus. But just sleep with me. Please.”

He smiled, silencing himself happily, and she fell asleep against him. He watched her peacefully for a few moments before shuttering his optics and drifting off next to her.

But when he woke in the early hours of that morning, he was lost, startled.

She wasn’t next to him when he opened his optics.

So where was she?

Orion woke in his bed, face-down, staring at the deep blue pillowcase, blinking slowly as he tried to put all the information together.

Maiden, Maiden, Maiden . . .

Sparklings . . .

The song he knew, as it had been popular a while back and still made an occasional appearance on the radio and in movies.

But everything else . . . it was like reliving something and yet having no idea waht was going on. It was the worst case of deja vu he’d ever suffered. He gave up on sleep, even though it was only 5:49 in the morning, and went back to training, desperately trying to clear his mind with physical activity he’d done fifty million times before.

And through it all, he could swear he heard the voice of a small child, calling for him.

“Daddy . . . Daddy . . . Daddy, Mommy needs you.”

He ignored it like it was his job, refusing to give in to something even more insane than his odd desire to be near a woman he’d never met.

~First-Person Narration: Angel~

I couldn’t stop it this time. I don’t know if I would’ve, even if I’d been able to. I couldn’t hide the past from her forever. But the fluctuations in the UP told me that tonight was only going to get worse. I sat there. Watching. Waiting. Feeling the small breaks in blocked memories.

I sighed, biting at my lip as it unfolded. She had to know at some point, right . . . ?

Well, that didn’t make it any more pleasant. For me, or for her.

~First-Person Narration: Jasmine~

I’d been sleeping next to that mech again, Optimus, but I woke to a sharp pain in my abdomen. I sat up quickly, biting down harshly on my lower lip, desperately trying to keep from making any noise. Slowly, carefully, I made my way off the berth, breathing heavily as my way out of the room, stumbling down the hallway, hoping desperately Ratchet was awake despite the hour of day. From what I could gauge, it was early morning. Very early morning.

And the pain was excruciating.

And sure enough, the resident medic was in the infirmary, as he always seemed to be. Some days I wondered if he ever left . . .

The small sounds my peds made on the concrete caught his attention. He looked ready to ask something along the lines of “Who’s there?”, in an unpleasant tone, but as his helm turned and he caught sight of me, doubled over, one forearm crossing my abdomen and the other pressed against the wall, desperately trying to hold my weight, he froze.

Thank AllSpark his medical training took over a moment later. It took only a few moments before I was down on the medbay, and Ratchet was inducing a loss of pain with special . . . energon? That seemed to be the right word . . .

It didn’t take long before the steps of one heavier than I resonated on the floor in the hallway. Optimus joined us shortly.

The details were fuzzy, probably due to whatever that . . . fluid . . . that Ratchet was putting into me was . . . but I’d been relentless in telling Optimus to leave. He’d wanted to stay, to support me . . . but I couldn’t stand having him there . . . I just . . . knew it wasn’t going to end well . . .

It had taken a few minutes of woozy, nonsense-filled words before he’d finally left. And he waited a bit down the hallway, at least from the sounds of his peds.

When I looked back up, trying to keep my optics locked on the ceiling . . . I saw Ratchet . . . and he looked sad . . .

I forced my optics closed. I couldn’t look at him. Not when he knew the situation as well as I did.

I pressed my lips together tightly, trying to think of something else. Desperately trying to think of anything else as I felt the pressure to my lower abdomen begin.

Hours later, I was coming out of the fog that Ratchet had induced. No mark touched my body. I knew they’d been removed . . . through another . . . method . . .

I turned my head as my processor was allowed to snap things together, doing my best to keep from sobbing. I placed my servos over my lower abdomen, the area between my legs incredibly sore at the moment. I winced just thinking about it. The high-grade was wearing off quickly.

I shuddered lightly, feeling myself go emotionally numb.

My babies . . .

During the removal, Ratchet had discovered that I hadn’t had a single sparkling growing in me. It had been twins. Fraternal twins.

One small femme and one small mech.

I stared down at their tiny bodies a second before Ratchet closed the metal container, hiding them from view once more.

I took a staggered inhale . . . babies . . . two . . . And I’d lost both . . .

Blade: “Ratch . . . why’d they . . . why aren’t they . . . ?”

I choked on the words, unable to force them out.

The medic sighed.

Ratchet: “I’m afraid . . . it’s your body, JewelBlade. Because of your . . . inorganic origins . . . you . . . well, you will never carry to term. I’m sorry.”

I shuttered my optics again. I couldn’t listen to this. I couldn’t . . . deal with it . . . at all . . . I wanted them . . . I wanted my sparklings . . . I may have been unsure when I’d found out, but the sight of their tiny forms, only a month into their development . . .

I shook my helm vigorously, choking out a sob. I wanted them back. I wanted my babies. My sparklings. Before I knew it, my body was wracked with sobs, with the raw pain seeping out of my spark. I felt a small wave of comfort through the bond. I knew Optimus had to be feeling my pain wash over to him. It was quite likely he already knew thanks to the bond, but I didn’t care.

Quite frankly, I didn’t even want to look at him right now . . . I couldn’t.

I wanted him to stay away as I fell apart. I don’t know why, but where most people may have taken comfort in having their loved ones near, I wanted him nowhere near me. I wanted to be alone. I hoped he didn’t interpret that as hatred . . . I didn’t hate him . . . I just . . . hated me . . . my body . . .

I wanted my babies . . . I wanted them safe, and alive, and . . . here . . . and not in a metal box . . .

I screamed through the sobs, tears streaking down my faceplate, curling up into a ball on my side. I winced slightly as I pulled my legs up towards my chest, but I didn’t care. The emotional pain was worse.

Still in a mental haze, the pain got the better of me. How did depressed humans release a small amount of their emotional pain?

They took a weapon and made the emotional pain physical instead.

As soon as the resolution was clear in my mind, I acted without thinking. And I hadn’t been thinking much, or very well, when the idea had come . . .

I drew a dagger from my wrist. I took it quickly in my servo, aiming the point to the inside of my forearm, allowing the armor to fall away in a quick swipe, the next cut coming quickly, but one destined to bite into the vulnerable metal and wiring beneath.

I hesitated for just a moment, and inches from my arm, my servo was stopped, Optimus’s strong servo holding mine back. I glared up at him, sending a deadly glare, but his faceplate was . . . his optics were so sad.

Optimus: “Please, Maiden . . . I can’t do this without you, too . . .”

I shuttered my optics quickly, biting down on my lower lip, dropping my helm in shame. It didn’t matter how hard I tried, I began to sob again. I just wanted my babies . . . was that so much to ask . . . ?

I gave up on holding the dagger now. The small piece of metal hit the floor with a small clang. I just . . . cried. I cried and cried and cried. I felt so broken and there was nothing to do about it.

I don’t know when it happened, or how, but by the time I’d managed to pull myself back together, I’d wound up back on our berth. Optimus was at my side, holding me close against him, my body shaking violently in broken sobs. Slowly, I looked up at him, so many tears having streaked down my faceplate.

Everything just . . . hurt . . .

He felt it, too . . . his faceplate bearing it’s own few streaks of fluid, but he still looked so strong . . . I took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing myself to piece together, no matter how few pieces I could manage at the moment.

I looked down again, feeling incredibly worthless, pained and lost. But I had to be strong again. If I wasn’t, it would inhibit Optimus. And that was something we couldn’t have. I shuttered my optics slowly, willing some semblance of calm into my body.

Blade: “I’m sorry . . .”

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in bed. My bed. And tears stained my face mercilessly just as they had in the dream.

I brought my right hand down to my lower abdomen, rubbing slowly.

My left hand, well, I now realized it was already . . . occupied . . .

Angela sat on the edge of my bed. Squeezing my hand between both of hers.

Angela: “Are you okay, Sugar . . . ?”

I shook my head, shuddering lightly as a small sob escaped me.

Jasmine: “No . . . No. I’m really not, Angela. I want to go home.”

I didn’t know why I’d said it. I just had.

Jasmine: “I want my babies . . .”

As I let the words go, I swore I heard this tiny voice call back to me.

“We’re still here . . .”

I shook my head, looking at Angela desperately, hoping she’d somehow understand the nights I’d been having, but the sunlight was slowly coming in through the window, and it seemed to bring with it the doubt that my dreams were just that: silly images brought to me by my subconscious. I just had to make some logic of it . . . the movie . . . of course. It was the film we were doing. The lost daughter . . . it was manifesting itself in my mind in another way.

So why didn’t I even believe that bogus excuse?

I sighed, not paying attention to the sorrow in Angela’s gaze.

I squeezed my right hand into a fist over my abdomen. What was wrong with me?

I shook my head quickly, scrambling off the bed and going to the jewelry box near the door. I shook it out, rummaging through the pile on the floor in a near panic. I grabbed four things: a small jade bracelet. An emerald necklace. A small pair of ruby earrings and the ring I’d woken up with but refused to wear for years. I didn’t even look at it for the longest time.

I took them as I ran off down the hallway, faintly hearing Angela call after me, but not caring. I quickly made my way to a window, gracelessly making my way out, turning to grab the gutter and bending the metal under my grip. I pulled up, using my unnatural strength to make my way onto the roof, careful of keeping my balance on the angled shingles. I made my way further and further from the window, walking closer and closer to the woods that flocked the back end of my home. I stumbled, catching myself, but still scraped the palm of my hand.

No biggy . . .

I got back up quickly, heading down the strip of two story ‘mansion’ that protruded farther than the rest, kissing a small clearing that pushed back the border of the woods about a quarter mile. My blood was rushing, my heart, or whatever that thing in my chest was, was beating rapidly.

Thought wasn’t what drove me to this. It was instinct. And desperation.

At the edge of the roof I paused, looking at the trees and listening to the birds for a few short moments before I lost it.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, squeezing my eyes shut, my fists clenched tightly around the pieces of jewelry in my hand.

Jasmine: “FRAG IT OPTIMUS!!! I LOVE YOU!!! SO WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME???!!!”

I sobbed lightly, hearing the fluttering of feathered wings as my voice startled some birds enough to take flight.

Jasmine: “Why did you leave me . . . ?”

I sat, or really, more like fell, down to the roof, my hand gripping the shingles lightly before I wiped the tears from my eyes.

I opened my other hand, looking down at the shimmering items through watery vision. A jade necklace, ruby earrings, an engagement ring and an emerald necklace.

Of all things, why these?

Jasmine: “Because you’re an emotionally blazing, completely jaded Hollywood starlet, Honey, now pull yourself together and get over it.”

I shook my head lightly, closing my hand again, squeezing my eyes closed. No matter how many times I could say it, somehow, I didn’t think it would ever settle in as a valid excuse in the back of my mind.