A/N: Part of this chapter references "Artistic liberties", part 3 of this series. You don't need to have read it, but it adds something to the scene.

I'm fairly sure there has never been this many mecha in the hospital's emergence room. Not even when Optimus was in Groove's stead. It's a good thing Groove isn't shy. The room is barely big enough to fit everyone, and as it is Optimus himself wouldn't fit if he hadn't been standing in the doorway. Ratchet groused louder and louder for every new mech who came in, but I can tell he doesn't mind. Not really.

And it's not like we'd let this happen without our whole family being there.

Hot Spot and Streetwise and Blades, hovering closer than necessary, excited optics locked on Groove's chest. Slingshot, leaning against Blades' back. Ratchet, monitoring everything despite technically being on creator leave, and Optimus with tiny Roller held close to his chest. Jazz and Prowl, both observing closely, and I'm so going to tease Jazz about staring this hard when it's his turn to be in Groove's position. Slagger. It can't be that much longer for them, considering Jazz was carrying before we left Cybertron. They managed to keep it a secret a lot longer than we did – which wasn't hard, since we spilled everything the first time someone saw us in public after we bonded – and only they and Ratchet really know when that sparkling's due, but I bet it'll be soon.

Behind the crowd, against the wall, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are smiling at me. They're so excited to be uncles, it's adorable.

I may be happier than I've ever been.

First Aid smiles at us. "Everything's going well." Under my hand, Groove's chest plates part slightly.

"Of course it is." Groove is relaxed, as usual, and I nuzzle his helm. Him being so calm helps me, because I'm almost trembling. "He hasn't given us any problems until now, why should he start?"

"Don't jinx it," Ratchet mutters, but there's no tension in his words.

I feel it as Groove's chest opens further.

"Not long now," First Aid says, all professional. I can feel it in my spark, how his bright presence turns focused. Groove is a mellow pulse next to him.

Love you two to bits. I'm still new at this bond-speak thing, but the smiles I get in return tells me I got through.

I love all three of you. First Aid rests his head against his brother's for a moment. I still can't believe we're going to be a family.

Believe it. There's a hint of laughter to Groove's words. Because I can feel him wanting out.

I let my hand follow Groove's chest plates as they open fully, barely avoiding the lubricants rushing out. He leans slightly forward on the berth.

"Cynosura, get ready to catch him," First Aid instructs calmly. He's glancing from Groove to the monitors and back, a broad smile on his face. "Any moment now."

I bend forward, hands flat under Groove's chest cavity. It feels strange to see it like this – I've seen that spark often, I know it as well as my own at this point, but I've never seen it like this before, with a shining orb of metal protruding beneath it. Slowly, surely, the orb slides forward.

Suddenly, I have our sparkling in my hands.

First Aid is there instantly, cleaning off the orb with a soft cloth, and I'm watching in complete captivation as the orb segments in my hands. The pieces slide apart, revealing soft, unmarked metal, and I realize I was wrong before.

This, looking down at our sparkling, is the happiest I've ever been. Ever.

His optics brighten, sea-green and clear, and tiny fingers open and close. One tiny pede kicks up, short and round and still bare of recognizable features. First Aid runs the cloth over his head, pushing away the last orb pieces from the soft sparkling metal.

And he is soft, I can feel it. Soft and warm and infinitely breakable in my hands, and I know instantly that there's nothing I won't do for my child. No danger I won't stand in the way of if it means he'll be safe. Nothing I won't give. I know to the core of me that I will give my life for this tiny precious one if it's necessary.

I don't even notice I'm crying until First Aid lifts another cloth to my cheek, drying the tears away.

"Hey, baby," Groove coos. "Primus, you're the most beautiful thing I ever saw."

"He's healthy." First Aid's voice is soft, smitten. "Look at him. He's perfect."

I raise my hands, lean down over our sparkling – Primus, our sparkling! – until I can press my lips to his head. "Hi, Casper. I love you."

"Casper?"

I look up, meet Sideswipe's optics. "My father's name. Richard Casper Harrington."

"We wanted him to have something of Earth, at least for now," First Aid explains softly. "Since he's got an Earth heritage. And since we never got to meet Isobel's father…"

"… this seemed like a good way to honor him," Groove finishes for him.

I put my baby on Groove's closed chest plates and slide onto the berth next to him. I want to be as close as possible. On the other side of me, First Aid disconnects the monitoring equipment and does the same, adjusting the berth to fit all three of us.

"Alright, show's over." Ratchet's voice is gruff, which I know means he's very emotional. "Get out of here and let them bond in peace."

Not that it's that easy. We're hugged and kissed and cuddled by everyone there before the room empties. The twins are the last ones to leave, Sunstreaker staring intently at us in the way I've learned means he's taking an endless series of image captures to paint later. Sideswipe grins as he ushers his brother out, and then the door closes. We're alone.

I stretch to press a kiss to Groove's lips. "I love you, you know. Thank you so much."

First Aid eases the berth back until we're lying flat, and I cuddle closer to Groove. Casper is gazing up at us from Groove's chest, nearly hidden beneath First Aid's hand and mine. As I watch, his optics dim gradually until he's in recharge.

Groove's optics are dimming too. Emergence isn't painful and exhausting like giving birth the human way is, but I can feel how tired he is over the bond.

"Recharge," First Aid whispers. "We'll be right here."

Like I'd dream of going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere ever again.

I'm going to stay right here, with my family.

Dear diary,

Casper is growing so fast! I know it'll take vorns and vorns before he's an adult, but his growth far surpasses a human baby. He's already doubled in size, can sit up and scoot around on his own, and puts absolutely everything in his mouth. We though the house was already babyproof, but we were so wrong. So while Casper was napping today, we completely redid the first floor. There is now nothing in sparkling-height that can be detached or be even remotely dangerous for him to chew on.

Optimus and Ratchet have been by a few times. Roller is growing too, but he was always bigger than Casper. He's remarkably calm, considering who his sire is, but even Ratchet has mellowed a lot since we came back from Earth. I guess having no big problems to worry about has helped him too.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were here yesterday. Sunny completely adores Casper, and I think we have a willing babysitter there whenever we need it. He brought this series of absolutely gorgeous sketches of us at the hospital. I cried when I saw them, which flustered Sunny no end, of course. And Sides makes fun of his brother, but I've seen the way he looks at the sparklings. He's over the moon about each and every one, even Blitzwing's little Tag. It's completely adorable.

I hope they find a third soon. They would be amazing parents.

Sunstreaker also, rather shyly I might add, delivered invitations to the exhibition next month. It's a big deal, he's been working on it for ages, and it's set up to mark the opening of the New Cybertronian Museum. Grapple has apparently outdone himself on the design of the building. Even Level hasn't been able to distract him from the project. I'm really excited to see it. It'll be good to get the Cybertronian culture scene started again.

The opening also marks the official beginning of Rodimus' reign as Prime. Optimus is stepping down fully. He kind of has already – Rodimus has Springer and Ultra Magnus and the rest, he's doing well. And it's not like Optimus is going far, so Rodimus can still ask his advice if he needs to. If I know Roddy right, though, he won't need to. Kid is turning into a really good Prime.

Heh. I can feel First Aid in my spark. He had to go to work today – the hospital was struggling with both him and Ratchet on creator leave, so both of them have had to pull a few shifts. But he's on his way home, and he's missed us terribly, and he loves us all to bits.

I'll never get tired of feeling that.

"You ready to go inside?" Groove smiles at me.

"Yup." I secure my grip on Casper – he's already leaning away from me, gawking at everything, trying to take in all the shapes and colors. "Let's go see."

The new gallery is as grand as Grapple promised. It's all pale, polished metal and organic rock, blended together to show off the best of both materials. And the line to get inside already stretches around the corner of the building.

Luckily I know one of the artists really well.

Cliffjumper grins as we approach the VIP entrance, but it's not at me. "Aw, look at the little bit. He's a curious bitlet, ain't he?"

"He'd absorb everything if he could," I confirm. First Aid hands over our tickets, not that Cliffjumper checks them much. "Is it crowded in there yet?"

"Getting to be." He reaches up to tickle Casper's chin. "That's what you get when all of command shows up, isn't it, bitlet? Yes, it is. Yes, it is. You're so cute I could just eat you up."

Casper giggles at the attention and hides his face in my throat.

"Starscream?" I don't really expect him to be here, and Cliffjumper confirms it by shaking his head.

"Star's not there, but he says hi. The crowd's still a bit much for him to handle."

Starscream has improved at an unbelievable pace. It's hard to reconcile the bold, cocky, smirking Winglord prancing around the Council building with the wreck of a mech I saw at our first session. He's living alone now, though Cliffjumper made sure to get a small place in the same building just in case. He seems to be happy to watch his charge from afar, and only intervenes when he feels it's necessary.

Like when Rodimus and Starscream take the flirting a bit too far. Roddy's going to earn himself a stern talking-to from Cliffjumper one of these days.

"Anyway, Optimus and everybody are inside already," Cliffjumper says, finally looking away from the sparkling. "You'll probably bump into them at some point."

I ignore the way some of the Neutrals in the other line stare at hearing Optimus' name dropped so casually. Not everyone's familiar with the new way of governing the planet yet, and Optimus still gets a lot of awe and attention.

"Thanks, Cliffjumper." I turn Casper a bit in my arms, to let Cliffjumper see him better. "Can you say thank you, Cas?"

He can't, really. But he chirps happily, reaching for Cliffjumper's fingers. It takes another minute before we can tear ourselves away and go inside.

The inside of the gallery is as grand as the outside. There are several floors, several wings, and I glance at the directory as we pass by – 'Classical Cybertron', 'Cities and places', 'Portraits', 'Modern Art', 'Sculpture and shape', and finally, 'Anniversary exhibition'. We follow the crowd towards the back end of the building.

Casper spots them first. He clicks and beeps eagerly in my arms, leaning and pointing, so of course I go where he's indicating. I'm not a sucker for my sparkling's antics, not at all. Groove is the pushover, not me. Really.

Well, maybe not really.

Optimus towers over most other mecha, so he's easy to find. A flash of white turns out to be Ratchet by his side. He has a curious sparkling in his arms too.

"Look, Casper, there's Roller!" Groove points at the small form in Ratchet's arms, before whisking our sparkling straight out of mine. "Want to go say hi?"

And then they're gone.

I link my arm through First Aid's, his indulgent happiness clear in the bond. "Do you think we'll see him again before we're ready to leave?"

"Honestly?" I shake my head. "Groove's been waiting for a chance to show him off properly for weeks. We're lucky if we see either of them again at all before we leave."

Roller squeaks and fights harder when he sees his friend. I can see Ratchet rolling his eyes from here. "Great, you had to rile him up even further. Now we'll never get him to nap later."

I look at the so-called riled up Roller. He's the calmest sparkling I've ever met, and now is no exception. He's bouncing a bit, squeaking a bit, but compared to the Houdini-esque wiggles Casper tries to use, Roller's practically sedate.

Optimus turns towards us as we approach. "My friends. It's good to see you."

"Likewise." I lean in and way up to press a kiss to his cheek. "You look good. Retirement seems to suit you."

"Thank you." He smiles at his mate and sparkling. "I finally got my happily ever after, I think. I have everything I could have ever wished for." Casper chooses that moment to practically throw himself from his carrier's arms and cling to a yelping Ratchet's shoulder. Optimus laughs. "Rambunctious, isn't he? I'm looking forward to get to know him as he grows."

"You and us both." First Aid reaches out and gently frees Ratchet from the pressure of tiny fingers. "Be nice to Ratchet, Cas. He's the one who fixes you when you're hurt." Just as First Aid fixes Roller whenever something's wrong, because neither sire will work on their own sparkling.

Casper babbles and reaches for Roller again.

"Maybe there's a space where we can put them down for a bit?" Ratchet suggests, as Roller finally tires of being sedate and begins scaling his sire's frame to get closer to Casper. "Keep my sanity intact for a little while longer?"

"I believe Prowl and Jazz found somewhere," Optimus agrees. "Come on, let's go see if we can find them. We should have time before the official opening."

It doesn't take long to find them. Even with the crowds beginning to fill the gallery, it's easy to follow the noise to where Jazz is hovering in a doorway, singing softly and indulgently watching the scene inside.

It's a break room of sorts, with low lounges and couches and a wash station on one wall. It looks like it was designed with sparklings in mind, which, knowing Grapple, it probably was. There's a corner with plush, soft floor covers, a bunch of toys, and a vidscreen set to some mindless Earth entertainment.

Figures. Even on Cybertron we get cartoons.

In the middle of it all, smiling as happily and as tranquilly as I've ever seen him, sits Prowl. He doesn't seem to mind the fact that his fingers are being used as chew toys, or that there's a stain of something that looks like regurgitated energon on his bumper.

In his lap, happily playing with their own pedes, their sire's fingers, and each other's flailing limbs, lie Toggle and Beep.

Jazz got quite the attention for being the first on post-war Cybertron to bear twins. Especially since no one had been told there were two before they emerged. Jazz took it all in stride, of course, saying something about twins running in the family and how there were so many sparkling-crazed mecha out there now that getting some help if they needed it wouldn't be a problem.

Not that they have needed any help at all so far. Not with Prowl so enamored with his sparklings that he rarely lets them out of his sight.

Casper squeals in excitement when he sees his tiniest playmates, and suddenly it's all Groove can do to keep him from throwing himself to the ground. And Cas becomes absolutely furious when his carrier doesn't listen.

"It's alright." Prowl chuckles lightly, one finger running down Toggle's back. "You can let him down. They'll be happy to see him."

Technically, Toggle and Beep are still young enough to be happy for any distraction, especially one with big optics and familiar sounds. Groove just smiles, though, and puts Casper down on the floor. Where he promptly scooches over to Prowl's knee, and leans forward to stare at the bitlets.

Ratchet puts Roller down as well, and luckily Prowl doesn't seem to mind being surrounded by eager sparklings. Made to be a parent, that one.

First Aid touches my arm, and looks at Optimus. "I think the time for the announcement is coming up. Should we go watch?"

"Definitely." Optimus waits until Prowl looks at him and nods, though, before moving away from the crèche room.

I pause to wait for Groove, but he waves me on. "Come on. I'll catch up once this one settles a bit."

I glance at the energetic sparkling crawling around on the floor. "Okay. Let us know if it goes on long enough that you should just leave, okay?"

Groove winks. "Count on it."

At that, we finally tear ourselves away and follow Optimus. He seems to know where he's going, at least, and I'm glad he's tall enough that we can keep up easily.

We walk into the next room, maneuver our way through the crowd. I startle when someone calls my name.

Up ahead stands Rodimus. He's on a dais of sorts, slightly elevated from the floor, waving eagerly. Sunstreaker stands next to him, almost sullen in comparison.

"Guess we're saying hi before the official opening." Optimus looks unrepentant. In fact, there's something almost sly about the way he's glancing at me as we ford through the crowd and up to the dais.

"Cynosura!" Rodimus' smile is brilliant. "Good day so far? Have you looked at the art?" He makes a gesture that somehow encompasses the whole room, covered art on the walls and everything. "I think it might be right up your alley."

Sunstreaker growls at him. I can tell he's restraining himself from doing something aggressive only because pushing the Prime doesn't look good.

"We only just got here," First Aid explains. He's looking strangely at Rodimus too, so at least it's not just me. "It looks like half of Cybertron turned up, doesn't it?"

"Almost all of Cybertron, in fact." Rodimus somehow manages to say it without sounding arrogant. He flashes Optimus a grin. "And with that, I think it's time for my speech."

Rodimus has more energy than anyone else I've ever met. Including my son. I kind of dread when Cas is older and they get to spend time together. We're going to have to peel them off the ceiling.

Rodimus steps up to the edge of the dais. There's a white mark taped on the floor behind a microphone stand that he places himself directly on top of, before looking around to find the discretely placed cameras and choosing the best angle. Then he taps the microphone briefly, smiling widely at the attention he gets.

Yep. There's still a lot of Hot Rod in there.

"Citizens of Cybertron!" His voice echoes around the gallery, and a hush falls over the crowd. It becomes quiet enough that I imagine I can hear Casper's excited squeal all the way here. "Three vorn ago, we came back from Earth to a war-ravaged Cybertron. Our planet was dead, barren, almost torn to shreds. And look at it now!" He throws out both arms, forcing Optimus to take a hurried step back to avoid being smacked in the chest. "I am so proud of all the work we've put in. Cybertron is thriving again, thanks to your efforts. And we have lasting peace, with no more factions. More Cybertronians, both returning from the edges of space and born new to us, are arriving all the time, and we have good relations with other alien planets." He smiles broadly. "And so, in honor of the peace, the people, and a thriving Cybertron, I want to declare this exhibition, and the New Cybertronian Museum, open for viewing!" He steps aside, giving a grand bow in response to the applause, and gestures to Sunstreaker.

My brother is not one for public speaking. He's not one for speaking like this at all, really. I can see Sideswipe in the front of the crowd, nodding along to what his brother's saying, and I have no doubt he's speaking along with him over the bond. They've probably rehearsed this until every word comes without thinking.

"When the Primes approached me about this project, I first wasn't sure what to depict. There is so much good about Cybertron as it is now, so much that should be remembered about Cybertron how it was back before the war. We've lost a lot. But we've gained a lot. So in honor of what we have, and what we remember," he pauses and grasps a white rope that hangs from the ceiling, "I give you: 'Cybertron in glory'."

He pulls the rope, and I stare.

I knew Sunstreaker was talented. Slag, everyone knows Sunstreaker is talented. But this… This is beyond words.

There are pictures on every wall. And I recognize each and every one of them.

Opposite me, in prime of place, hangs a large mural of the Cybertronian cities as they were. He seems to have tried to put as many in there as he could, and he's managed without making it look cluttered. Iacon on one end blends easily to Tetrahex blends to Tyger Pax blends to Altihex blends to Vos blends to Praxus blends to Tarn blends to Kaon, with countless others mixed in between, and nothing is given precedence over anything else.

It's absolutely beautiful. But it's the left wall that captures and keeps my attention.

It's another mural, this one of mecha. Landing at the spaceport, disembarking their craft with awe on their faces. Old friends meeting up – there's one of Beachcomber and Hound that's very touching. A close-up of Bluestreak and Skywarp from their bonding ceremony, focused on their faces as they're forehead to forehead. Rodimus, clasping hands with Soundwave and a newly-arrived neutral. Swerve's, full of happy customers. Eject and Laserbeak, playing in the fountain in front of the council building. Sparklings – Tag in Blitzwing's arms, Roller in Ratchet's. There's even a large version of one of the sketches we have at home, of the three of us with a newly-emerged Casper in the hospital.

I'm crying again. It's just so goddamn beautiful.

Rodimus smiles at me. "You haven't seen the best part yet." He takes me by the shoulder and turns be around.

There, next to the doorway we came in through, is a series of pictures of me.

Not mech me. Human me. Naked human me, at that.

It's the pictures from when Sunstreaker painted on my skin back on Earth. The pictures Rewind took of me after. I've looked at them a couple of times, but I've never seen them like this. Sunstreaker's taken the image captures and painted his own work anew.

I'm walking closer before I realize it. Someone's right behind me, but I don't turn around to see who it is.

I thought they were individual images, but they're not. Sunstreaker's blended them together at the edges and made one large piece of art. Primus, it must have taken him ages.

"Is that a human?" someone asks. "With pictures of Cybertron on her flesh?"

"Yes," Sunstreaker says from behind me. Of course it's him back there. "Yes, that's a human. Her name was Isobel Harrington. We worked very closely with her on Earth." He steps up next to me, glances at me from the corner of his optic as he pitches his voice low enough that it's for me alone. "Is this okay? I know I should have asked, but you did give me blanket permission to do with them as I wished."

"More than," I breathe. "Primus, Sunstreaker. This is just as beautiful now as it was back then."

One of the returned neutrals looks at me. "You knew this human too?"

I giggle at that. Luckily, they don't look offended. "Yes, I knew her well. I was there when Sunstreaker painted these images on her body." I smile at the memory. "She complained that it tickled."

I stand there for a few minutes longer before taking Sunstreaker's hand and pulling him away, into a corner. Where I hug him so tightly I think he would have broken something if he'd had thinner plating.

"I am so fragging proud of you, Sunny." And damn, now I'm crying again. "You are so amazing, and so good, and I just love you so much, you have no idea."

Someone – Sideswipe, from the glimpse of red in the corner of my vision and the fact that Sunstreaker doesn't object – comes up behind me and hugs us both. "We love you too, Isobel."

"You like it?" Sunstreaker sounds awed, almost young. "Really?"

"Are you kidding?" I lean up until I can kiss his cheek. "This is so slagging beautiful I don't even know how to take it in. I could watch this for hours."

A large hand lands on Sunstreaker's shoulder. "It is truly exquisite work, my friend."

And suddenly, they're all there. Optimus, with Ratchet cradling Roller. Rodimus, beaming happily at us. First Aid and Groove, carrying a half-asleep Casper.

I step into my mates' arms and let them pull me close. "Did you see? He painted us. He painted me."

"We saw, love." First Aid smiles at Sunstreaker. "It's gorgeous work."

"My bro's the best," Sideswipe says with a grin, and there's no boasting in it. Just the truth. Sunstreaker blushes anyway, bless him.

I lean into Groove's reassuring hold, let First Aid dry the tears off my face again. I seem to be crying a lot lately. Probably because I'm so happy.

First Aid takes my hand. "Come on. Let's get a closer look."

I don't really need a closer look. I'm more than overwhelmed already. But everything's too perfect right now for me to refuse.

And besides, these are pictures of my home. Of my family.

I put my arm around Groove's waist and let them pull me into the chaos and life that Cybertron has become. I know there's more to see. And I can't wait.

A/N:

And that's it. The end of more than three years of work. If I'd posted this in six days, it would be the three-year anniversary of the day the first chapter of "You had me at 'holoform'" went up on .
I want to thank you for sticking with this. Seeing your responses to each chapter has been a blast, and has kept me motivated, and I'm extremely fond of each and every one of you. Look me up on Twitter ( RhieraLouise) if you haven't already!

Also, this is the last work I'm posting on . I'm not done writing by far, but I much prefer using Ao3, so I'll stay there from now on. And I'm BlushLouise there too, and if you can't get on Ao3, I have a handful of invites to give out. Send me a PM if you want one! I'm not deleting anything from , and I'll try to answer messages, though looking me up on Twitter is a faster way to get in touch.

I'm not planning to add to this 'verse. But here are a few tidbits I haven't gotten to use:

Blitzwing's sparkling was sired by a Constructicon. It was a one-night thing that didn't really go well, and the 'Structie left early the next morning. Blitz would have liked to have tried for something more, he was quite smitten, but it wasn't to be. Not every relationship is meant to last, and no one really did anything wrong.

Cas' designation when he grows up will be Pax Apollo. Optimus is thrilled and flattered and teaches him everything he can. Him and Roller are fast friends and do everything together, and Ratchet has to have words with Sideswipe when he teaches them how to make glue bombs.

Roller never changes his name. Of course he doesn't. He grows to be as big as his carrier.

One day a transport lands on Cybertron, and a small orange mech disembarks. He's thrilled to be welcomed to a peaceful society.

Thank you all so much for reading ^^