Final Gift
Disclaimer: Transformers belong to Hasbro and Takara, and are licensed to IDW and Dreamworks. My original characters are my own and any similarity between them and any existing characters from canon or fandom is purely coincidental. I claim no ownership by writing this work.
"Hey dad? You in here?" Spike called, walking into his father's garage.
"Yeah, son, I'm back here," his father replied from the direction of the storage room.
Spike strolled through the garage, past the cars that he had grown up around. Some of his earliest memories were in this place. His mother had been a grease monkey, just like her husband, and she had spent a lot of time here working on the classic cars that she loved so much. Most of Spike's memories of his mother were set here, in her grandfather's garage. He remembered that she always smelled of grease and lubricants mixed with the scent of old leather and vinyl upholstery. Somehow, she managed to make it smell wonderful.
Spike stopped in front of a picture of his mother. She and Sparkplug were standing in front of the garage, the old "St-Claire Auto" sign still hanging above the door. Both were dressed in coveralls, both grinning like fools.
"We'd just inherited the garage from your grandfather. He'd never had much interest in it and decided that it would be a good wedding present," Sparkplug said, coming stand next to his son. "I think that she was more happy about it than I was."
Spike smiled sadly. "Yeah, she did love his place. ... I keep thinking that it's sad she never got to meet the Autobots. She would have loved them."
"That she would have. I think that Elaine and Ratchet would've gotten along like gangbusters, and I doubt she could've kept her hands off the twins. She always had a soft spot for Lamborghinis."
The two stood in silence, looking at the picture of Elaine Witwicky, remembering a time before the illness had taken her away from them.
"And, Spike?" Sparkplug said, turning to his son. "You mom would have loved Carly too."
"Yeah," Spike said sadly, I'm sorry she never met her."
"In a way, that's why I wanted you to come by today," Sparkplug said. "Come on to the back. I've got something for you."
Spike followed his father, confusion written on his face. As soon as they reached the office, Sparkplug pulled a tiny box out of a desk drawer.
"This is a gift from your mother and me. We'd hoped ... well we talked about it before she, before she died, and we hoped that you'd be able to use this one day," Sparkplug said, handing over the box. "It belonged to your great grandmother, your grandmother, and your mother. Now we want you to have it."
Spike opened it with shaking hands and his breath caught as he saw the contents. Inside was a small diamond and emerald ring, the same ring his mother used to wear. His eyes misted and he looked up at his father in surprise.
"Dad, this is perfect! Thank you," he said. "But how did you know I was going to ask her?"
"Let's just say a little bee told me," Sparkplug said with a smile.