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Description
Title: Loss and Gain
Pairing: Lockdown/Prowl
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU, angst, death, h/c, MPREG, slash, squick
Summary: Not everything goes right.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I make no profit from this.
A/N: Sequel to this geminigirl83.deviantart.com/ar… Transformers have insect forms in both stories. Wachey came up with the number of babies Lockdown and Prowl should have, along with giving one a name: Shredder. I named the rest, and added a few more to the story. Your cute drawings really inspired me.

Sharp spasms of pain tore through Prowl's engorged metasoma, making him grit his dentals and squeeze his optics shut. He was belly down on a berth, helm resting against a stack of pillows made of soft webbing, metasoma hanging over the end of the berth, slit expanding as an egg passed through, dropping safely into a silk egg sack. This was the tenth egg, and he was extremely sore, fingers tearing into the downy webbing on the berth, yelling out in frustration as another spasm of searing pain tore through him, signaling that another egg was about to pass.

"Ngh! H--Hurts so slaggin' much!" Prowl gritted out.

Lockdown, who had been guarding over the egg sack, rushed forward and caressed Prowl's damp cheek. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I can give you some energon. It'll give you more energy and might numb the pain a bit." He reached over to a nearby shelf, filling a small cube with pink fluid. "Drink."

Prowl shook his helm and muttered, "N--No. My fueling tanks feel like they're in knots. I'll just throw up." He winced as another contraction hit. "Ow! Frag!"

After placing the cube back down, Lockdown headed back to the end of the berth, tenderly massaging Prowl's metasoma, sending a shiver up the moth's body. The firm, yet tender, movements of Lockdown's servos made Prowl's metasoma quiver, and the birthing quickened. Soon, he was blissfully empty and panting in relief, exhausted from producing a brood of forty eggs that would hatch into beautiful little sparklings within a month. His antennae and wings drooped as he let out a tired yawn, letting his optics drift shut.

"Rest, little moth, I'll watch over our sparklings," Lockdown murmured, nuzzling Prowl's shoulder. "Love you."

"So sweet for a big bad spider," Prowl chuckled. "I love you too."

Lockdown snorted but smiled against Prowl's shoulder. "You're my mate. You're the only one that's going to see this side of me, along with our sparklings."

Leaning forward, Lockdown tenderly kissed Prowl, making the moth and sweetly kiss back. Murmuring happily, Prowl fell into recharge as Lockdown wove another layer of silk webbing around the egg sack.

A tense month of waiting passed before the clutch of eggs began to twitch. Prowl and Lockdown eagerly waited for the new arrivals beside silk cradles that hung from the ceiling. Reaching into the squirming brood, Lockdown and Prowl took turns pulling out the sparklings, cleaning them up, and placing them in the cradles. The first sparkling was a male with wings and six arms named Shredder. The second and third sparklings were males with wings and four arms named Apollo and Anubis. The fourth, fifth, and sixth sparklings were males with wings and two arms named Osiris, Abaddon, and Atilla. The seventh and eighth sparklings were male spiders with six arms named Balthazar and Merilion. The ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth sparklings were male spiders with four arms named Ironaxe, Fury, Alastor, and Blythe. The thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth sparklings were all male spiders with two arms named Dante, Weaver, Hephaestus, Adonis, and Xenophon. The eighteenth and nineteenth sparklings were females with wings and four arms named Foxglove and Windflower. The twentieth and twenty-first sparklings were females with wings and two arms named Magnolia and Artemis. The twenty-second and twenty-third sparklings were female spiders with six arms named Nightshade and Marigold. The twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth sparklings were female spiders with four arms named Hyacinth and Saffron. The twenty-sixth, twenty-seventh, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth, and thirtieth sparklings were female spiders with two arms named Posey, Bloodroot, Bellona, Kasmira, and Babette.

Thirty chirps and wails filled the nursery, and Prowl and Lockdown struggled to check and feed on all the little ones. After the sparklings were stuffed with a mixture of energon and sweet sap and sleeping peacefully, Prowl rushed back to the egg sack. He had gotten so caught up in caring for the hatchlings that he had forgotten that there were ten eggs still left. The joyful aura that surrounded him quickly darkened.

"Lockdown…they haven't hatched," Prowl whimpered. "I don't understand."

Lockdown's spark twisted in dread as he gazed down at the remaining eggs. There were several possibilities as to why the eggs hadn't hatched. The eggs could have been late in developing and needed more time to hatch, the eggs could have been duds (never fertilized), or the most sickening possibility: the sparklings were dead inside. He wanted to stay positive, but he knew from experience with his parents and siblings that most broods produced a few duds or dead sparklings, even after being properly cared for. It was spark-breaking, and he didn't want Prowl to suffer that anguish.

"Maybe…they just need more time," Lockdown mumbled. "Probably late bloomers."

Prowl relaxed a little bit. "Y--Yes…perhaps…"

Lockdown wrapped his arms around Prowl, giving the moth a reassuring hug. "C'mon. The little ones are all recharging. We should take advantage of the calm and get some recharge too."

"Should we…really leave them all alone?" Prowl muttered.

"No need to worry," Lockdown chuckled. "The sparklings are too young yet to crawl or fly our of their cribs. Even if one manages to get out, I have webbing all over the nursery that connects back in our room. I'll be able to feel any unusual vibrations. The remaining eggs are well incubated too. Relax, darlin'."

Prowl gave Lockdown a warm smile. "All right. Let's go recharge."

As the two walked out of the nursery, Lockdown groped Prowl's aft while giving the ninja a mischievous grin. "I know another way we can take advantage of this quiet."

Prowl snorted and slapped Lockdown's servo away. "Behave yourself. I'm exhausted."

Rubbing his sore servo, Lockdown pouted, "Next you're going to tell me that you have a processor ache."

Prowl smirked and murmured," Behave, let me rest, and I'll reward you later."

A day went by, followed by another, and another until a week passed. The remaining ten eggs hadn't hatched. Prowl had been checking on the egg clutch obsessively, expression solemn at times, confused, or even angry. As Lockdown guessed, eight of the eggs were duds, but two were giving off the sickening stench of decay. Lockdown's fears had become a reality. Two of his sparklings were dead. When he first noticed the stench, he had to run out of his home, racing out into the grass until he was far enough away so Prowl wouldn't hear his cries of sorrow or curses of rage, pounding, kicking, and tearing at the plants around him. Prowl was in denial, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the death of the little ones or the nauseating smell that was permeating throughout their home. When Lockdown couldn't take any more, he tried to remove the egg sack, but Prowl fiercely kept him at bay with a crazed gnash of dentals and swinging fists.

"Prowl…darlin'…they're dead," Lockdown murmured.

"You're wrong! They're not dead!" Prowl snarled, throwing a shuriken at Lockdown as the bounty hunter tried to get closer. "They need more time!"

Lockdown sadly shook his helm. "I wish that were true, darlin', I really do, but we have to face reality here. We can both smell it…as can our sparklings. It's upsetting them…and me. We need to bury them--"

"No! They could be alive!" Prowl snapped, protectively wrapping his arms around the egg sack. "I'm not going to abandon them or let you bury them in the filthy dirt!"

Lockdown gritted his dentals in frustration. He couldn't allow the eggs to stay here. The smell was horrendous and could possibly attract predators, but he couldn't get that logic into Prowl's processor, not that he could blame his mate. Death had always been a part of his life, but not for Prowl.

"Prowl…please…" Lockdown whimpered. "There' nothing more that can be done for them."

"How can you say that?!" Prowl yelled. "They're our sparklings! Are you really so cold?! Monster! Monster! Damn you to the Pit! Come any closer and I'll beat you to scrap! I won't let you touch them!"

Lockdown's servos clenched tightly as he restrained himself from lashing out and yanking the egg sack away, voice crackling with rage. "Do you really think that this doesn't bother me?! Those two sparklings were my son or daughter! It sickens me that two of my little ones are dead, and I don't know why!" His optics narrowed with spite. "But we have thirty other sparklings depending on us. You've barely spent any time with them! They're more bonded to me than you!" He rubbed his helm as a twinge formed. "The smell is making them sick, and they're having a hard time keeping energon down. I have to think about their wellbeing…since you obviously can't!"

The venomous tone of the last statement made Prowl collapse to his knees, tears trickling from underneath his visor. "I don't understand! What did I do wrong?! They shouldn't have died! Primus, why?! What did I do wrong?! Why did two of my sparklings die?! Why?!"

Warm arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace, and Lockdown gently rocked him, one servo reaching up to caress his tear stained cheek as the others rubbed his back. Prowl tightly hugged back and sobbed onto Lockdown's shoulder.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Lockdown sighed. "It's just…life. Nothing can be done about it. We…have to stay strong…for our other sparklings."

"I--I'm sorry," Prowl cried. "It's just…hard."

"No…don't apologize," Lockdown whimpered. "I shouldn't have been so harsh, little moth. I know you love  our sparklings. I'm sorry for implying otherwise."

"It's all right," Prowl sniffled. "What you said…brought me to my senses. The eggs…can't stay here."

"They'll have a nice burial," Lockdown murmured.

Within an hour, Lockdown had dug two plots next to their home in the hallow tree trunk. Prowl carried the two eggs to the graves, reluctant to let them go. Neither he nor Lockdown could bring themselves to cut open the eggs to see the sparklings inside, too afraid of what grisly sight might greet them. After a few tense moments, Prowl gently placed the eggs in the plots, letting out a choked sob as Lockdown covered the graves with dirt. Lockdown's optics were glazed from tears, sniffling as he pounded two markers into the ground with names etched in: Ivy and Bramble. After placing two small, white flowers, on the graves, Prowl flew back up toward the entrance to his home with Lockdown crawling after him. Once inside, he checked on all thirty sparklings and gave each one a gentle kiss before heading to his room, closely followed by Lockdown.

Stopping at the edge of the berth, Prowl whimpered, "Hold me."

Scooping Prowl up, Lockdown settled on the berth, keeping the moth pressed close in a tender embrace, servos and hook tenderly massaging the ninja's back and wings. Snuggling into Lockdown's warm body, Prowl placed a soft kiss on the spider's lips before he drifted off into recharge.

"Love you, Prowl," Lockdown murmured against the moth's helm. "We'll get through this."

The loss of two sparklings had taken a toll on Prowl's and Lockdown's sparks, but they gradually healed and were kept busy with thirty little ones. With two weeks gone by, the sparklings were learning to crawl or fly, even speaking  a few basic words. Due to the little ones' knack for getting into mischief, Lockdown had to seal the entrance to their home with thick webbing that only he or Prowl could maneuver through to keep the sparklings from sneaking out and getting hurt. The little ones also enjoyed throwing their food either for a giggle or while throwing a tantrum, usually drenching Prowl or Lockdown from helm to pedes. Once the little ones became tired from their antics, they were placed in their cribs without a fuss, quickly falling asleep, much to Prowl's and Lockdown's relief.

Covered with sticky energon and sap, Prowl headed for the washroom, shuddering as a hot spray of water flowed over him.  He gasped when Lockdown arms wove around his waist, pulling him until his back and wings were flush against the spider's chassis. Lockdown's lips latched to his neck cables, fangs grazing the sensitive wiring as servos roamed his body, wiping away the sticky mess along his frame. The way that Lockdown used his mouth was perfect, each slick swipe his glossa leaving a streak of fire in its wake. If Prowl hadn't been so tired, he would have quickly become aroused by the teasing, talented swipes, moaning in frustration.

"Lockdown," Prowl growled.

"Easy, little moth," Lockdown chuckled. "I'm tired too. Just want to kiss you a bit."

Turning around, Prowl scrubbed Lockdown's helm and chassis, leaning in for a sweet kiss, glossa darting out and swiping into the spider's mouth, making the bounty hunter mewl. They gently kissed and scrubbed one another until clean, drying off and then heading into the berthroom. Relaxing on the berth, Prowl and Lockdown nuzzled into one another, ready to recharge in each other's arms when a chorus of chirps and giggles rang out.

"Mommy!"

"Daddy!"

Prowl's and Lockdown's optics flew open as thirty sparklings poured into the room, tackling them on the berth. The berth was barely big enough to accommodate that many bodies let alone the weight, but the little ones managed to squeeze in, snuggling into their parents. Prowl and Lockdown laughed, nuzzling, hugging, and kissing every sparkling. The rambunctious little ones helped ease the loss of Ivy and Bramble, and as the little ones drifted to sleep in their arms or crammed against their frames, they too fell into peaceful recharge.

End