[IDW] All the Queen's Treasure Epilogue

[dracoqueen22]

Title: All the Queen’s Treasure
Continuity: IDW, Alternate Canon
Characters: Sunstreaker, Ironhide, Bob the Insecticon, Hardshell, Sharpshot, Kickback, Original Insecticon Character(s)
Pairings: Hardshell/Sunstreaker, Insecticon(s)/Sunstreaker, Hardshell/Sunstreaker/Sharpshot
Rating: M
Enticements: Consensual Body Modification, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Non-Graphic Oviposition, Off-screen Egg Laying, Knotting
Description: After Sideswipe, Sunstreaker returns to Cybertron, lost and alone, until Bob leads him on a wild chase into the wildlands, to a nest beneath the surface of the planet, and a place Sunstreaker might call home.

Epilogue

 
Sunstreaker reclined on the outcropping, soaking in the rays of the current sun. He wasn’t sure how long Cybertron would be tethered to this star, but until it broke free of the gravitational pull, he intended to enjoy the warmth it offered. 

It was nice to have cycles again, even if he didn’t register them below ground. 

“Chirr?” 

Scuttle turned in a circle on his belly, getting comfortable. 

Sunstreaker grinned and stroked a finger along the builder’s back. “Maybe I should see about getting some heat lamps for you, hmm? You seem to like the heat.” 

“Chirret!” 

Nearby, Bob chased a turborabbit fruitlessly. It was smaller than him. Faster, too. But Bob enjoyed the chase, enjoyed being able to hunt and stretch his legs. He didn’t much leave Sunstreaker’s side, which meant he didn’t get out as often as he used to. 

Sunstreaker would have to come to the surface a bit more frequently. 

“He comes, Queen!” 

Sunstreaker shifted Scuttle to his shoulder and sat up, dangling his legs over the edge of the outcropping, which gave him a perfect panoramic view of the landscape. Hardshell had insisted, and while Sunstreaker was Queen, he often deferred to his first in matters of safety. 

Sunstreaker crossed one knee over the other and watched Ironhide approach, the red mech carefully picking his way over the cragged land. It would have been easier if he were designed for it, but Ironhide was a wheeled mech and ground based. He didn’t have the natural agility of an Insecticon. 

“Primus, Sunny. Ya sure did pick a slaghole to make a home,” Ironhide grumbled, but it was before he looked up, before he saw Sunstreaker. He nearly missed a step when he did, and he hurried to catch his balance. “What the--”

“I don’t actually live here, you know,” Sunstreaker said with a faint wave of his hand. “The Hive is belowground. It’s much nicer than this.” 

Ironhide gaped at him. He squinted. “Is that really you?” 

“Mostly.” Sunstreaker lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Where it counts.” He glanced past Ironhide, scanned the horizon, but saw nothing to indicate more mechs were coming. His scouts reported the same. “You actually came alone. Thanks for that.” 

“Well, you told me to, and I know how tetchy ya get.” Ironhide eyed the cliff where Sunstreaker perched, but he’d chosen this one specifically because it couldn’t be scaled by a ground-based Cybertronian. 

They would have to speak with this distance between them -- Hardshell insisted. 

“What the frag happened to ya, kid?” Ironhide asked, the moment he must have realized there was no getting closer. 

Sunstreaker felt Bob’s arrival before the bug skidded to a stop at his side, and chirped happily down at Ironhide. Sunstreaker scratched him behind the audials, and Bob flopped down beside Sunstreaker, aft wiggling. 

“I found somewhere to belong,” Suntreaker said. “I didn’t tell you to come here because I needed saving. I wanted you to know that I’m fine. I’m safe. You don’t have to worry anymore.” 

"Not worry?" Ironhide spluttered, and he made big gestures with his hands, as if to point to the obvious changes in Sunstreaker's frame. "I don't even recognize ya. What happened?" 

Sunstreaker chuckled. "That's partly why I wanted you to come here. Who's in charge of Cybertron now?" 

Ironhide's mouth opened, closed, opened again. "Starscream, still, for the most part. He ain't doin' half a bad job at it, but maybe that's cause Windblade's helpin' him." 

Starscream. 

Well, Sunstreaker's not the mech he used to be. He's stronger now. Smarter. He won't be manipulated. He could handle Starscream. 

"I'll want to talk to him eventually. One leader to another." Sunstreaker scratched behind Bob's audials again, and the bug purred happily. "My Hive is no danger to anyone, and I want to ensure we are not attacked." 

"Your... Hive?" Ironhide glanced at Bob and back again, his hand squeezing the back of his neck. "You one of them now?" 

Sunstreaker smiled, and even from this distance, surely Ironhide could see his sharpened denta, his fangs. "Better," he said. "I'm their Queen." 

Chirr! Scuttle scampered from one shoulder to the other, tucking himself against Sunstreaker's clavicle with a nuzzle. 

Ironhide sighed. "And this is what you want?" 

"I'm happy. I'm content. Yes. It's what I want." 

Sunstreaker paused, turning his awareness inward. Something stirred, something that filled the Hive with great joy, celebration rippling through every one of his children in a warm wave. 

It's time. 

Sunstreaker smiled. He knew exactly what they meant. 

He looked down at Ironhide. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but there is something that needs my attention." He climbed to his feet, and heard Ironhide's sharp intake -- standing, he looked even more alien, and even less Cybertronian. "Let Starscream know I'll contact him for a meeting. And if you ever have need of me, well...." He gestured to the land around him. "You can come here. I will know." 

Ironhide glanced around, shifting as though uneasy. "Are ya sure you're happy, Sunny? Is this really a good ending for you?" 

"No." Sunstreaker stroked a finger under Scuttle's chin, who purred at nuzzled him. "It's a good beginning." 

Ironhide's shoulders slumped. "Alright. I'll pass on the message, but if ya ever want to come back, I'll welcome ya. You have a home with me." 

Sunstreaker's spark fluttered with warmth. "Thank you for the offer, Ironhide. You're one of the good ones." He dipped his head in a farewell gesture and turned to go, calling to Bob with a click of his glossa. 

Bob yipped down at Ironhide as if offering a goodbye of his own. 

"Yeah. See ya later, bug," Ironhide said. 

Bob bounded back to Sunstreaker's side, antennae happily twitching.

"Awful proud of yourself, aren't you?" Sunstreaker murmured with a glance down at the Insecticon he'd rescued, and who'd become the very best friend a mech could ask for. "You found me. You brought me here. This is thanks to you, you know." 

Bob scrubbed against Sunstreaker's legs, which would have thrown him off balance before his transformation. Satisfaction wafted from him in waves. 

Sunstreaker chuckled. 

He descended the backside of the outcropping, the sharply angled path treacherous to anyone who didn't have an Insecticon's grace. The tunnel entrance to the Hive was hidden in a rocky crag, overshadowed by a sharp jut, and there Hardshell waited, just outside, arms crossed. He'd conceded to wait by the entrance, rather than loom over Sunstreaker's shoulder. 

Sunstreaker spread his hands as if to say 'I told you so', and stepped into Hardshell's embrace, cupping a hand around the back of his first's head. He pressed their foreheads together, humming deep in his chassis. 

"Is it done?" Hardshell asked. 

"It is." Sunstreaker rubbed his cheek against Hardshell's. "Don't be jealous. Ironhide is not important to me the way that you are." 

"I am not jealous. I'm concerned for your welfare." 

"Mm." Sunstreaker pulled back and stepped past Hardshell, into the dim of the tunnel, which seemed to exhale relief around him. Sometimes, he thought the Hive itself was alive, as if the Insecticon presence had seeped into the unliving stone and metal. "Come. The first batch is emerging." 

Hardshell fell into step beside him, Bob trotting along in their wake. "I know. Sharpshot and Kickback are already there." 

"Good." 

"Do you think the surface mechs will be willing to deal fairly with you?" Hardshell asked. 

Sunstreaker hummed as he considered it. "I've had dealings with Starscream before. He's manipulative and clever, but if he's held leadership of Cybertron for this long, perhaps he can be reasoned with. Ironhide seems to think so." 

"And if not, we aren't without our defenses." 

"Yes, but I'd like to avoid bloodshed if at all possible. I don't want to lose a single one of mine to war," Sunstreaker said. 

He was tired of war. 

"It is one of the reasons you are much beloved, my queen." 

It was a new experience, to be loved like this, but an experience Sunstreaker never wanted to abandon. He wanted to protect the Hive as much as it wanted to protect their queen, and their loyalty to each other was boundless. 

Down, down, down they went, all the way to the nesting grounds, where it was the warmest, and the most humid, where webbing coated the walls to hold in moisture, and hung from the ceiling in gauzy drapes. Nurse drones skittered about, underfoot, but with a second sense for staying out of the way. 

Sharpshot and Kickback waited for them around one of many cradles, Kickback solemn but Sharpshot with a wide, excited grin. 

"They are hatching, my queen," Kickback said as Sunstreaker moved closer to the cradle, peering in at the large eggs nestled among a pool of bright energon and soft webbing, meant to mimic cloth. There were a half-dozen eggs within -- soldier eggs, as they were the first Sunstreaker had taken charge for. 

The six eggs wobbled around in their nooks, tesselated plates of armor shifting and twitching, though they'd yet to slide apart. 

"They will be strong," Sharpshot said. "Strong and beautiful. Beautiful like our queen." 

"I certainly hope so," Sunstreaker said. He rested his hand on his abdomen, where a batch of medics rested within his gestational chamber, until they were ready to be birthed into the cradle. Smaller than the soldiers, he currently carried a full dozen. 

Their implantation had been the work of a stud named Patchwing, and he'd been a generous lover, keen on teasing his queen as much as he'd been keen on fertilizing the seedlets. 

Highjump had spawned the soldiers preparing to hatch, and while he'd been successful, Sunstreaker would never let Highjump stud again. He hadn't told Hardshell, but Highjump had been unnecessarily rough, and treated the fertilization process like an unwelcome task, rather than the gift it was. 

If Hardshell knew, he would have Highjump killed. Sunstreaker preferred to demote the stud. He spawned soldiers, so a soldier he would become. He would serve the Hive much better in that regard, and Sunstreaker had other studs to choose from, ones more eager for the task at hand. 

Sunstreaker was still learning. 

He was Queen, but none of it came to him innately. He had guidance from his cadre, and they helped, but there was much only time and trial would teach him. 

Fortunately, he had plenty of time to experiment. And plenty of mercy to offer. 

The eggs twitched again. 

Sunstreaker knelt beside the cradle, his hands on the edge. The eggs were the size of his head, perhaps a touch smaller. When unfurled, they would be the size of the feeders, but they would grow with time. They would become fierce and proud warriors, ready to defend their Hive. 

They were Sunstreaker’s first hatchlings. 

“The first of our Queen’s offspring. They will be cherished for that alone,” Hardshell murmured. He stood beside Sunstreaker and one hand rested on Sunstreaker’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. “This is a momentous occasion.” 

“Yes, it is,” Sunstreaker agreed, as the warmth and love of the Hive surrounded him, emanating from the floors, the walls, a rising hum of celebration from every member now connected to him, no matter how distant. 

They were his family. 

They were his home. 

****