No matter what, touch came first. Being together came first.

No matter how urgent the situation, no matter what they
needed to do or who was in the way or how much energon was on the floor, touch
always came first. A full-body press, at least, contact of plating against
plating, and more if they had even the slightest chance. 

Touch and stroke and run
fingertips along each other’s frames, soothe hurts, re-familiarize themselves
with each other in the wake of everything that left new scars. Touch was all
they had- not their freedom, not safety, not respect, nothing else. Just touch,
when they were allowed it, and each other.

It wasn’t always something they were allowed. If they hadn’t
done well enough, if they gave in to exhaustion, they were kept apart. Primus
forbid one of them actually make a mistake,
because then the other would be locked away and hurt, and they wouldn’t be allowed together again to try to make it
better until the mistake had been wiped away and the project vastly improved.

They spent a long time terrified of making mistakes.

And then… they were free. Their captor lay dissolving in the
bottom of a closet filled with enough toxin to down a legion, and they were
off, together, and free.

Touch.

That was, as always, their first priority. Find a safe place
and touch, merge, press together into
one and hold each other close for as
long as they could.

Then, after that-

Raid a ruined mine. Find the massive drills, machinery meant
to carve out tunnels in rock, and take the laser emitters. The lasers had to be
downsized considerably for their purposes, but, eventually, they had a supply
of servo-held lasers that could cut through just about any barrier between them.
Sure, it would overheat, but that didn’t matter. The tool just needed to last
long enough to do its job, and its job was to cut down anything in their way.

Because nothing was
ever going to separate them again.

And they proved that, to themselves and to the world. The
first mech to try, a former guard of theirs, died messily as acid ate through
his spark chamber. The first wall to be placed between them crumbled and fell
under an onslaught of lasers meant to carve through miles of solid metal. The
same went for the next, and the next. Mechs who tried to order them apart were
threatened, those who tried to enforce it paid,
those who kept trying died. Walls and doors and air vent covers alike caved
before them, and they stayed together.

Until finally, finally,
they could stand not to be touching. Until they could stand on either side
of a table, not in reach of each other, and not start panicking. Until they
stopped flinching and reaching for each other if one of them made a mistake or
an experiment didn’t work out.

Because they were safe.

They were together.

They could touch, no
matter what, no matter what happened or how badly something failed.

Because nothing, absolutely
nothing, could stand between them.

Because they were together.