Blackspark and his pregnancy brain earlier failed to recognize his partner in crime after they’d been separated for awhile. Gravescratch was not pleased.
“You did not recognize me.”
“Gravescratch.”
“You. Did not. Recognize me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You looked. Right at me. And you did not see me.”
“I know, baby, and I’m so sorry.”
“You forgot me.”
“Now, okay- that I’m gonna have ta object to.”
Blackspark sighed, very gently attempting to tug Gravescratch’s helm a bit lower, but failed entirely. He wasn’t willing to use any sort of actual force, especially not now, and Gravescratch did not want to lean down. “C’mon, baby, I didn’t forget you. Look- you heard th’ medic. Processor’s a li’l busy buildin’ a bit, I’m runnin’ on low power. Got no recognition skills fer anyone, ‘specially not outta long-term memory. But I didn’t forget you. I just… didn’t recognize ya.”
Gravescratch made no attempt to pull his helm out of Blackspark’s servos, but pinned his antennae down and refused to move, stretched up tall enough that he was almost out of reach. When he spoke, some of the hissed words were accompanied by a quick stomp of one pede, a gesture that meant agitation- that he was either working himself up or had been working himself up. “I have spent centuries being overlooked because people take me for an animal, because people look but never see me. I spent the first part of my life in chains because no one saw and no one cared and they left me to slavery for lack of recognition that I was not an animal, and you try to convince me that you of all beings not recognizing me is not important?!”
“Oh, baby, no… that’s not what’m doin’.” Blackspark whispered, slowly beginning to sway side-to-side on his pedes in an attempt to get Gravescratch to mimic him- the closest he’d ever been able to come to rocking someone nearly twice his height in his arms. “I’m not tryin’ ta say that it doesn’t matter. I’m sayin’ I’m sorry, an’ that it ain’t ‘cos you ain’t important, it’s ‘cos I literally cannot recognize anyone past recent memory. I didn’t recognize you, bu’ I recognize your worth, an’ your rights, an’ your existence- I see you, baby, I see you. I got you.”
Gravescratch wanted to believe. He did. Enough that he found himself starting to lean into the touches, starting to sway with Blackspark, before he caught himself. “Pretty words, but no proof.” he hissed, half-sparkedly trying to pull away, and shut his optics against the traitorous welling of moisture.
“You want proof? I feel ya- proof’s good.” Blackspark purred, gently running his fingertips under Gravescratch’s optics, and started to purr softly as he rocked. “I ‘member meeting you. Thought you were some kinda hound, but- hey, can’t blame me there, you were pretendin’ ta be one. Talked at ya, gave ya food, lured ya back t’ my ship, an’ then turned ‘round an’ saw ya loungin’ all noodley on m’ berth. Don’t ‘member when that was, bu’ I know it happened.”
His optics brightened a bit as Gravescratch leaned ever-so-slightly into him, and he purred just a bit louder, taking exactly one step closer. “Yeah. An’ I remember Mine, hm? Cute li’l stuffed thing. Still got ‘m in subspace, yeah? I ‘member findin’ ‘m. You… had a lotta feelings. Talked t’ya ‘bout ‘em, eventually… after I found ya curled up’n cryin’ more’n once. You did a lot more cryin’ after we talked, but… seemed better after. Had some stuff bottled, stuff ‘bout how they treated you, ‘bout th’ one who wasn’ quite as awful… ‘bout how you were tryin’ ta figure out if ya hated th’ mech or not. Figured out that… maybe not? Not as much ‘s hate.”
He could see Gravescratch’s resolve wavering, but he didn’t try to get any closer, nor did he attempt to pull Gravescratch down. He just kept talking, his voice soft and genuine, and kept swaying- which Gravescratch was starting to follow.
“Real mixed feelin’s, yeah? Tha’s okay. Yer allowed ta have complicated feelin’s ‘bout people. He’s dead, anyway, ain’t gonn’ cause ya any trouble. I ‘member that much. I ‘member helpin’ ya check. An’ I ‘member you cryin’ after that, too. You had a lot of cryin’ bottled up. Which’s okay, baby… nothin’ wrong wi’ cryin’. Bottlin’ ain’t good fer ya, though. So, hey… you feel like maybe you got somethin’ stressin’ you… yeah? Guessin’ it’s this? I know, baby, I’m sorry… ‘m so sorry. I know. I know ya, an’ I know how you feel ‘bout not bein’ recognized, an’ I understand- I do, baby, I do. That is an extremely reasonable… reason fer ya ta feel like that. An’ I’m sorry I didn’ recognize you. I am so, so sorry. But- please, Gravescratch, you know me. And I know you. I know you.”
Gravescratch made a soft, needy little sound and finally, finally gave in, slumping against Blackspark with both pairs of servos grasping at the bounty hunter’s frame. He didn’t speak, though, just whined and pressed close, careful to avoid the spines as he pressed his helm to Blackspark’s throat and swayed.
Of course Blackspark knew him, of course, it made so much more sense for him to not recognize than to forget. And it still hurt, but… carrying did strange things to people’s brains. Part of the reason why the whole idea horrified him. It… wasn’t out of the question that Blackspark’s processor might have failed him. Right? It made sense, and it was comforting, and Blackspark had never, never lied to him… not once. Not even slightly.
“Yeah, hey… I feel ya. It’s alright… c’mon now. Berth’s tha’ way. ‘s okay.” Blackspark crooned, carefully backing up and taking Gravescratch with him, still swaying as much as he could while walking. “There we go. I missed you, hey- you know that, right? Oh, Primus, I missed you… I love you, baby. Love you, Gravescratch.”
Once on the berth, Blackspark leaned back a bit and purred softly, rocking slowly back and forth with all his spines as far down as possible so Gravescratch could cling as tightly as possible. “Yeah… here we go. Comfy? Uh- careful not ta lean too hard on m’ stomach, somebody in there don’ like that.”
Gravescratch curled against Blackspark and parted his jaws just enough to lap at the bounty hunter’s throat, softly, something they both knew meant the same- affection, pleasure in trust, love. Maybe not romantic love, but… that didn’t make it any less genuine. Even if Gravescratch was bad at admitting it in words.
He’d missed Blackspark, too, missed the first person in a long time to treat him with respect. Missed this ridiculous bundle of spines, those soft white optics and the gentle touches only when he wanted touches…
Like now. Yes, he had a lot of feelings, and he definitely wanted touches now.
So he curled around the warm mech, he swayed with Blackspark, and he licked and nuzzled and offered as much affection as he could without having to try to speak.
Much as it shamed him, he didn’t think he could manage any words right now.
