Deadlock was loosing his mind.

His face plates were starting to hurt from the strain of manually stopping himself from reflexively smiling. And why did he have an overwhelming compulsion to smile?

Because: This. Tiny. Minuscule. Absolute Fragging SPECK of a human was somehow radiating more emotion out of his EM field than any other mech that Deadlock has ever met in his life.

And what was that emotion?

"THIS IS THE COOLEST SHIT IVE EVER SEEN IN MY FUCKING LIFE!"

Joy. Pure. Unfiltered. Unrestrained. And completely unreasonable levels of joy.

"RATCHET. RATCHET. HE'S SO COOL."

The mini nuclear reactor was currently shaking the medic by the shoulders, practically vibrating with unspent energy. Seconds ago, Hot Rod had seemingly slagging materialized next to him in an explosion of emotion that damn near knocked Deadlock on his aft. He was currently tempted to swat the little fragger halfway across the hangar to escape the onslaught of unexpected emotions except-

Ratchet had personally brought him in. Even now, the medics field remained calm and collected in the face of what to Deadlock felt like a fragging Sun. He kinda envied humans field numbness right now because it was definitely starting to screw with his processor.

Case in point, Deadlock had to take a click to refocus on what the squishes were talking about.

"No fucking way. Really?!"

“Yes, he really did take down those three quints near the wind farm by himself. Ate one of 'em too.”

"YOU EAT THEM?!?"

Deadlock was expecting disgust, but instead all he could feel was overwhelming awe. His resolve to remain aloof and detached was quickly beginning to crumble before the blast furnace of Hot Rods personality.

A manual override finally failed and Deadlock broke into a wide grin. At least he kept his fangs on prominent display. Equal parts smile and threat.

"Drink, actually."

Deadlock made a conscious effort to take on a more relaxed posture, one that would convey predatory pride and confidence.

"Dude. Dude. Dude."

Hot Rod held his hands to his face, leg rapidly bouncing up and down.

"YOU'RE A FREAKING ROBOT VAMPIRE FROM OUTER SPACE?!"

Before Deadlock could ask what a vampire was, Hot Rod had begun jogging away while screaming incoherently.

"What. What is happening?" Deadlock leaned towards his human, listening to Hot Rod get fainter as he rounded the corner of the hangar.

"About what I expected.” Ratchet grumbled, setting his hands on his hips.

“Roddy is intense as they come but he’s a damn good pilot and an even better friend."

Ratchet pointed a finger at Deadlock.

"Don't tell him I said that."

Hot Rod had become almost inaudible by now but was slowly gaining volume again.

"Right now kid, it's just been you and I. And trust me I enjoy the arrangement. But we can't fight every battle by ourselves. Sometimes you just need help. Sometimes,"

The screaming was quickly gaining decibels.

“You just need a friend.”

A friend.

Huh.

The scarred, defensive, self preserving part of Deadlock protested the thought of being pried open any further. Ratchet had started the process. But, c'mon. It's Ratchet. He scolded his inner self. Ratchet always left things stronger then before. So, maybe. Just a little bit. Deadlock could at least see what was so great about this squishy human.

The screaming returned to its initial volume as Hot Rod rounded the corner and mech. They were pretty sure humans normally breathed more often than that?

Hot Rod came to a stop before the two of them.

Finally gasping in fresh air. His field was absolutely roiling, pretty much all positive emotions but the screaming lap around the building had clearly vented a lot of energy.

"Can you turn into a bat?!"

Deadlock reset his optics, an idea spreading across his processor as he finally let his Em field reciprocate with giddiness and mischief.

Who cares if it's sparkling behavior? It’s fun. He told the Deadlock part of himself.

"Nope. But do you want to know what I can turn into?"

Hot Rod nodded so fast Ratchet looked concerned.

Che-che-chu-klunk.

Hot Rod started screaming again.

This time when when his EM field hit Deadlock he took it all in and reflected it right back. He revved his engine so loudly it shook the windows. Hot Rod was running and jumping in a tight circle around the two of them, radiating Joy Joy Joy Joy. Deadlock swore his field was even effecting Ratchet at this point from the way happy seemed to bounce between the three of them in various shades.

"Can we go for a ride?!"

Hot Rod had stopped by Deadlocks passenger side door. Rapidly looking between Ratchet and Deadlock, clearly uncertain who's permission to ask for.

"Well Doc, do you trust us not to get into trouble?" He wriggled his tires.

"You two? Staying out of trouble? Hell no."

Ratchet rubbed his chin the way he always did when he was trying to stop himself from smiling.

"But as long as you both come back in one piece and before dark... Well I don't see the harm."

Hot Rod gave his loudest "WOOP!" Yet. A feat in it of itself. And scrambled into Deadlocks cabin, forgoing the door entirely to throw himself bodily through the window.

They tore away from Ratchets hangar with a chorus of thanks and a spray of gravel.

———————

It was well after dark by the time the duo rolled into Ratchets hangar. Hot Rod stumbled out into a semi controlled summersault that left him spread eagle on the floor, laughing and panting. While Deadlock smoothly transformed and promptly rolled flat on his back in a similar state of delirium.

They had so much fun. He had so much fun.

When was the last time he'd ever felt like that?

When had he ever felt like that?

Ratchet was upside down frowning at him. No, wait. Smiling.

Happy. Fondness. Proud.

Love.

Deadlock cleared his vents and put a hand over his spark before his chest plates could do something very stupid.

Ratchet turned to the hot mess on the floor.

"I got the couch set up for you. Figured you're gonna stay the night."

Hot Rod stuck his arms straight up, palms open.

"Woo, sleepover!"

His field had finally simmered down to something like coals. A bone deep exhaustion that made Deadlock feel heavy by proxy.

They both gracelessly shuffled onto their respective resting arrangements, Ratchet taking the recliner after dimming all the lights.

Soon enough, all three were in recharge or asleep.

———————

Deadlock startled out of unconsciousness with tightly trained silence.

Something was wrong.

Threatened. Stressed. Afraid.

Deadlock seemed dead to the world still. But internally, his systems quickly synced to kill. A skill he had honed over many millennia of unsafe homes and attempted assassinations.

What surprised him was how he already mentally mapped out how to maneuver the humans into the safest location in a fight. Deadlock finally onlined his optics, casting the hangar in an amber glow. His processor clicked and Deadlock realized what was triggering his fight response.

Threatened. Stressed. Afraid.

Hot Rod.

Limbs twisted in fabric, face buried in the crook of the couch. Posture contorted. Breathing uneven. Field pulled in so tight it felt suffocating.

Deadlock loosely knew what a nightmare was.

Ratchet got them sometimes, though he wouldn't admit it until Deadlock made it clear the lack of context was freaking him out a little.

The way Ratchet explained it was that it was essentially a way for the brain to process excess information. Basically the same as defrag but with some weird human side effects because of course there were weird human side effects.

Like whatever was currently happening to Hot Rod.

From previous experience, nudging Ratchet awake usually resulted in a snort or other cut of vocalization. But if there was anything Deadlock had learned it was that Hot Rod did not do anything quietly.

Ratchet was still sleeping on his recliner, but there was a subtle shifting and a pinch to his face. Not a nightmare, Deadlock had learned the pattern, but something was bothering the medic and it threatened to wake him from his much needed rest.

Help.

The wave of desperate emotion spilled out like an overfilled cup.

Right, Hod Rods EM field was freakishly strong. It was restrained for now but Deadlock dreaded what it’d feel like if the dam broke.

He watched Ratchet stir again and. . . Wait.

Could humans pick up on EM fields?

Can’t a deaf mech still feel the vibrations of a song? Couldn’t a blind one still feel the warmth of the sun?

What if?

Deadlock moved as silently as death. Cupping a servo over the pilot. He stopped restricting his field and focused.

Calm.

Hot Rod made another almost vocalization. Like he was trying to yell without enough air.

Calm. Deadlock tried again. Comforting anyone was so, so far from his normal area of expertise. Did he even know what calm was supposed to feel like? What safe was supposed to be? He wracked his memories as Deadlock and abandoned that immediately.

Calm. Safe. Ratchet.

Okay. Deadlock didn’t know how to comfort someone, but Ratchet did. He focused his field again, this time on trying to mimic what he always felt from Ratchet as closely as possible.

Care. Fondness.

Deadlock vented slowly. It felt hollow coming from him. The new field was there but it was weak. Unsupported. Deadlock worried his lip with a fang. Hot Rod simmered.

Venting slowly, Deadlock opened the box at the back of his mind named Drift. He knew what he needed. Everything else could stay but he needed this one feeling. Just one.

The stars were out over Dead End. A brown out had swept the area, leaving everything in the dark. Drift didn’t know the sky could look like that.

The others were gathered around in silent awe. Nobody dared to break the spell. Tomorrow, everything would suck again. Scraping money for the next meal, the next hit, the next chance to live just a little longer.

But for a few fleeting moments, Drift was okay. They were all okay. Because the circles of light around Cybertron said so.

Peace.

Drift let the feeling fill his field. Calm and fondness meant something again.

Peace.

He thought of his time with Ratchet and Hot Rod. Finding something new in himself.

Protect.

It was like smoke clearing all at once. Hot Rod exhaled deeply in his sleep, field going soft and gentle.

He kept it up, at some point his engine had started purring without him knowing. A pleasant white noise within the hangar. They were okay. Everyone he cared about was okay. He felt peace. Just for now. Just for them.

“Didn’t know you could do that.”

Ratchets voice was thick with sleep. One eye barely cracked to look at him.

“Me too.”