Guess who? XD Yeah it's me again.

Firstly, I'd like to explain this fic. I was having a terrible day not too long ago and really needed to take it out on someone. I know this little youngling has a terrible past which I set up, so I thought I'd take my frustration out on him. It's not as bad as my OC Skartplug mind you... but it's too 18+ to put on here, as is the bit of this kids past where his step dads a molester... I hinted it in the last flashback but I didn't go into too much detail.

Italics - Flashbacks

Non-Italics - The present day

Just so it's known - The step-father is named Crimson, his mother is Freezedry and his real dad is Backwind who is my friends OC and I claim no right of the name or charecter of him. I just write about him. Also, the kid speaks through minds, he isn't talking out loud he doesn't know how to ^^;

Reviews and stuff are welcome o.o and I might continue it after I've finished my crossover fic. This was really just a little break from it because I didn't wanna ruin the fic with my bad mood so this came up ^^' I've got an idea on what I wanna do with it now, so I would really like to continue it and throw some canon charecters in!

Anywho, thats enough of my babbling. Enjoy.

DISCLAIMER - I DO NO OWN TRANSFORMERS BUT THE OC'S IN THIS SAID FIC ARE MINE AND COPYRIGHT TO ME. DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION AND A BAR OF CHOCOLATE.

"What did you tell him?!"

"N-nothing!"

"Then why am I getting questioned huh!?"

"I-I didn't say anything I swear!"

A small purple sparkling winced as his helm connected with the wall, before his tiny cockpit met the floor and a foot as he was held there. He resisted the urge to cry out as the weight on his back was increased, knowing it would lead to another heavy beating if he did so.

"Why is that mech poking his nose in…?"

"I-I don't know! I promise I-I didn't say anything! I-I swear dad I swear!"

"What did I say about you calling me that?! I'm not your father! Why would I be a dad to such a pathetic spark of life like you!"

A quiet cry escaped the child's vocaliser as he was kicked away. He mentally prayed it had been missed by his abuser, but luck wasn't on his side as a growl made his frame shake, a strong hand grabbing his scruff bar as the stairs came into his broken vision…

A small groan brought everyone in the room to attention, a medic standing over the small berth as its occupier returned to consciousness. A tear ran down the child's cheek as pain suddenly registered, frame covered in heavy dents, cuts and gashes as life returned to him.

"Don't try to speak… your vocaliser was damaged pretty badly"

"He can't speak anyway, he's too young to learn yet"

The sparkling just squeaked as someone carefully slid a finger into his remaining hand, the other broken and bandaged from it's repairs. The child's optics didn't online, the small jetling too weak to turn them on.

The medic looked up at the other two in the room, looking at their worried faceplates as the femme cuddled the mech, tear stains on her cheeks from where she'd come in crying with him before.

"You said a group of youths around your block did this?"

The mech nodded, explaining about how he and the sparkling had been walking home from the park after playing when the child had thrown his ball then ran off to get it whilst he'd been getting the door open.

"I don't know anything after that… I heard him scream, then I found him on the floor offline. I managed to see the others frames and I've reported them, but that's all"

The child didn't say a word. He just listened to the slag that came out of the mechs vocaliser. It was the same every time, except the story was different. But the mech he called his dad always said how he was very accident prone and how he had a problem with his optics which caused him to run into things. Problem with that statement was that the jetling didn't even know how to walk, let alone run, but the medic didn't know that.

"This is the third time in the past week… I suggest getting a guard unit put near your place to get rid of these thugs if they're picking on sparklings"

"I have called about it, but they said they can't spare the men at the moment, what with the war going on an all"

The war… that was where his real father was. A tear ran down the sparklings cheek as he tried to remember his real dad. He was nothing but a blurr of purple to him seeing as that was all he could see at the time, nothing but a blob as he walked out of the house for the last time, taking nothing but his call to active duty datapad and a few other minor pieces. He had argued with his mother that same day about him, about how she had no proof he was his…

The sparkling screamed as pain rattled through his back, causing his intakes to hitch and splutter as the hot metal rod was pushed further and further in. The mech kept his legs on the sparklings neck and aft to keep him down, not caring as he pushed it in more.

"The more you resist and cry the further I'm going to force it in brat!"

The child slowly but surely quietened down, only gasping shakily for a straight intake when the poker was pulled out, energon spewing from the wound, the smell of burnt metal and wires rising into the air. With a swift kick, the child found himself at another pair of feet. Looking with tear ridden optics, the sparkling whimpered as he was grabbed from behind by the wings, struggling frantically as they were slowly and painfully twisted upside down.

Meanwhile, the femme just watched. The femme he'd called his mum all of his life just stood there, optics emotionless whilst his 'father' tortured him, painfully 'punishing' him for the smallest of mistakes such as coughing whilst they had guests in or looking up at either of them…

"Honey? It's ok… you don't need to be afraid"

Blurred vision slowly focused on a soft red femme, a small smile on her faceplates as she noticed the lights flickering in the sparklings optics as he slowly came around. His bandaged wings twitched, causing the child to wince ever so slightly.

"Are you ok darling? You were crying in your sleep…"

The jetling just nodded, optics hiding all the pain and terror he was feeling, all the embarrassment and agony from the constant beatings…

"Do you miss your parents?"

Another nod told the femme her answer. It was a lie, another lie that his father had told him to do or he'd be punished more severely the next time. He had to make it look like a freak attack by some older street mechs that were bored or he'd get it worse…

"I'll call them if you want. Would you like that?"

Again, the child nodded, before laying back down and shutting his optics. He held everything in, just like his abuser had told him, no showing of fear, agony, terror… nothing.

"You're pathetic! Look at you! You can't even speak! You have to take the easy way out and use telepathy!"

The sparkling squeaked as he was pulled up by his scruff, his wings on the floor, along with an electric saw which the mech had used to remove them.

"Now you are going to learn to walk! Everyday you fail this you'll be punished understood?!"

The child nodded, making the grown mech growl as he backhanded him round the faceplates with his spare hand.

"ANSWER ME!"

"Y-yes!"

"Yes what?!"

"Y-yes da- sir! I-I mean sir!"

The jetling cried out in pain as he was sent flying into the wall, hitting it back first before sliding down to the floor, landing in a heap. He sobbed quietly and curled up, optics filled with fear as he watched his carer walk out growling and mumbling about highgrade, slamming the door shut behind him.

The second he was gone, the child dragged himself across the floor to his berth, gripping it and trying to stand. He cried out, falling back down again, his legs collapsing underneath him. He wasn't the right age to be walking yet, he hadn't even learnt to talk besides his telepathy. A street mech had taught him to do that.

"I'm afraid he won't be walking… his legs as so damaged and torn he might not ever learn… and talking properly is completely out of the question"

It took the youngling all he had not to move, his optics shut as he pretended to be in recharge. The medic was talking to his parents again about his injures and the extent of them. He knew he wouldn't live a decent life… not after everything that had happened.

The child squeaked quietly as he turned over, resisting the urge to flinch when a hand softly brushed his side as the blanket was pulled over him more. The medic sighed as he watched the youngling sleep, looking at all the bandages covering dents and cracks. He didn't believe the tale that a group had done this, but he had no proof of another story. The child couldn't speak, so he couldn't tell him anything.

Looking up, the mech looked at the family. The crimson mech was hugging his light purple jet femme close, speaking in hushed whispers to comfort her as he stroked her helm. They both looked equally upset, the mech less so but that was normal seeing as femmes had a higher emotional rate.

"You two best get home. I'll finish my scans then leave him to sleep"

"Ok. Come on honey"

The mech looked at the sparkling, before turning and walking his wife out. The medic watched them go, before sitting down, looking at the child. Raising an optic ridge, he unspaced his datapads and started to make notes. The kid didn't seem to be asleep to him… glancing around, he stood, walking to the door and closing it before holding his intakes, leaving the room silent.

The youngling heard the door shut, before silence enthused in the room. Opening his optics, he sniffed and winced in pain, trying to curl up. Thinking he was alone, the purple jetling sobbed quietly, shaking in terror, his optics pale as tears streamed freely from them. He hadn't realised the medic was behind him at the door, recording everything…

The youngling whimpered as he was put down on the berth. He was smiling… why was he smiling at him? It was creepy. He was also being very gentle even though the child had failed to learn to walk in the short space of time he'd been given…

The mech grinned as he stroked the sparklings helm, slowly moving down his tiny frame. His optic twitched from the mass amount of highgrade he'd consumed, but that didn't matter to him right now. All that mattered was the tiny frame in front of him… the tiny… innocent… frame…

The child gasped shakily as a hand touched his codpiece, shuddering as it felt around for the latches. He wanted to move, to try and scramble away but he felt so sore from the beatings before he didn't feel that he had the energy. He also didn't want to get more punishment for disobeying orders.

As his codpiece was removed, the youngling couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably as his abuser started fiddling about inside, pulling and stroking wires, roughly putting his fingers into tiny ports not made for his size… He wanted him to stop, it was hurting. Whimpering, the child tried to pull away, but a hand gripped his leg, holding him still as he got rougher, tugging wires until they felt like they were going to be pulled out, prodding and probing about madly until the jetling started screaming in agony, desperate to pull away from this new kind of torture…

"You must be Backwind"

"What do you want? Make this quick I have a battle to get back to!"

The medic resisted the urge to roll his optics as he headed down the hall with the large purple jet, the warrior huffing as he grumbled impatiently behind him. They stopped at a door, the medic pointing at the young light purple jet inside as he lay on a berth covered in a blanket, wires to drips sticking out from underneath.

"Do you recognise him?"

Backwind looked in and rose an optic ridge. He crossed his arms and looked at the kid for a while, before turning back to the medic.

"Nope."

"Sure?"

"Is this why you called me in? To look at some kid I've never seen before?!"

The medic just sighed, looking at the youngling. He looked so peaceful, yet there was something that was constantly projecting his pain and emptiness to him. He couldn't tell what it was though…

"Are we done here?"

"Yes… we're done"

The jet growled and headed off, wings flared in irritation as he exited the youngling wing of the large medbay. He met up another jet of who was similar in his frame design, the two having a quick chat before they headed out and took off again. The medic signed again, optics watching the child as he slept, listening to the intake machine as it beeped off rhythm.

Quietly heading into the room, the medic sat down in the chair next to the berth. The whole situation felt wrong to him… he gently stroked the child's helm, the youngling gasping quietly in his sleep from the touch and trembling a little. If only the kid could talk… then he could tell them what was happening. He could stop this once and for all. Looking up, he noticed the kid was awake and whimpering, tears running down his frightened faceplates.

"Oh Streamline…"

Something had to be done… but what…

Just to clear up a few loose ends, Backwind doesn't know Streamline is his son. Backwind dontated his data for some credits, he doesn't know the said data was used and Streamline was sparked. He's an Autobot and has a brother named Blade Breaker, who is also not mine and copyright to the same person as Backwind.

Review please! It helps me to improve!