"So, you see," Red Alert explained, finishing off a rough map of Iacon's outer territories. "The War of the Axils was really much more complex than just a few territories wanting a say in the city proper." He looked over at the green mechling laying next to him.
"Wow." Said Hound, fingers running over all the different lines his older brother made. "That was way better than trying to read the history file! Can't you quit your job with the enforcers and come be my city history teacher?"
"Ha!" The white and red mech laughed, patting his green companion on the helm. "I don't think I could stick to the city's curriculum. Speaking of which, you'd better still read that history pad-even if it is boring. You side your teacher takes quiz questions from that and I'm pretty sure all the stuff we just covered won't be all that pertinent come test day." He smiled when the mechling rolled his blue optics.
"I will." Hound made a pouting face. "But only if you promise to tell me one of those awesome stories about before any cities existed. 'Kay 'Lert?"
"Sure thing little mech." Red Alert ginned at the faux glare Hound sent his way.
"I'm not little." The stout mechling insisted. "I'm bigger than you were at my age! And dad and mom say I'll be bigger than you in a few upgrades."
"That's not really an accomplishment." Red Alert assured. "Most bots don't miss the window for their first few size upgrades." To better illustrate the point, he laid a servo over Hound's. "See." His servo was only about the size of a mechling's still two upgrades away from an adult frame.
"Fine fine. But I'm still not small." Hound reasserted.
"No, you're not." The older mech agreed. "You're average in every conceivable way."
"See, you even admit I'm not sm-Hey!"
On that note, Red Alert stood. "I do believe your carrier wanted us to chat some this evening, and you'd best return to that riveting history file." Laughing at the mechling's miffed expression, he headed for the stairs leading into the main floor.
As expected, Hound's creators, Coldstar and Sniffer, were relaxing in the family room over a game of Skirrid. The correctional officer muttered good naturedly as his bondmate make a high scoring move. Red Alert took a seat on the far end of the couch Coldstar sat on, content in watching the game to its finish.
"Once again, I emerge a head." Coldstar announced, giving Sniffer a consoling shoulder pat. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Sure thing hun." The green and grey mech smiled at his bonded. "I'll win you then."
"Yes, and I'll quit crunching numbers for the station."
Red Alert smiled at the couple's antics as they put the simple game away. Up until that day, years ago, when Coldstar convinced him to have dinner at her home, he'd thought the best bondmates could do was tolerate each other. The worse-well, he'd been too young to clearly recall what life was like when his creators were together, but he supposed they were a decent example of what that looked like.
The Skirrid board was put away in no time and Sniffer bid goodnight to his bondmate; the prison's morning staff held an early morning meeting every tenth day and he'd need to leave in the wee hours to arrive on time. Red Alert tilted his helm in respect to the older mech as he passed, returning the departing pleasantry. As much as he knew Sniffer was a good mech, as much as he'd experienced and benefited from that goodness, the white and red mech still struggled separating sire, exacting obedience, and pain. He understood though. Understanding, kind Sniffer no longer tried pushing the matter, he just took what Red Alert could give and gave back what the younger mech could handle.
When they were the only two in the room, Coldstar returned to her seat beside Red Alert.
"I'm glad you could get time off at such short notice 'Lert." She said, patting his right servo. She'd sent him a message the day before, asking if he could take time off and come home for a few days.
Red Alert smiled, relaxing was easier without Sniffer nearby. "Yeah, well, Slugslinger says he's gonna quit paying overtime if I work more than sixty percent a cycle." The head of technical support at Iacon central knew how to keep things running with a very tight budget.
"Ah, Slugslinger is quite the character." Coldstar reminisced, recalling when she'd met the long-winded jet at a conference. "If you don't mind 'Lert, I'd like to just skip along to why I wanted you to come."
Red Alert nodded, straightening his back. "Of course. What'd you want to talk about?" Pleasantries weren't his favorite thing either.
"I presented at a recruiting conference a few days ago, and happened to bump into a young enforcer named Prowl." She paused.
Red Alert nodded. The conference was held at the Academy. It would have been surprising if she hadn't.
Coldstar raised an optic ridge. With as much has he talked about his childhood friend, she'd have expected Red Alert to give some further reaction. "He watched Hound for me, and when I came back they were talking about you."
The white and red mech twitched at that, nervousness reflected in his optics and field. "R-really?" He'd always been uncomfortable with others talking about him.
"Yes. Prowl was very interested in you, He said he had a childhood friend called Red Alert." She stared meaningfully at him.
"'Kay." The word was hesitant.
"Red Alert, Hound is fairly certain-and I wouldn't disagree-that we met your childhood friend. Prowl's certain of it too." Here she stopped again, optics scrutinizing the mech's shocked face.
Red Alert's mouth worked wordlessly for a few moments before he closed it. Mind racing, he placed his servos over the sensory nubs, pressing against the sides of his helm, as he tried to think. He hadn't seen Prowl is years, not since Firestorm lost the trial and he'd been taken away from everything he knew. The black and white mech wouldn't be the nice youngling he played with at school, or the comforting presence when he had to come to school with the scuffs and dents Firestorm left on him. Prowl was grown now, had his own life, his own friends. He wouldn't want the troubled mechling of his childhood back in his life, the mechling whose carrier abandoned to an abusive mate, the mechling who disappointed his sire, the mechling who no one wanted, the mechling who-
Strong arms encircled him, patting his shaking shoulders. "Red Alert. Relax." Coldstar tucked the trembling mech against her chest, slowly loosening his servos hold from his helm. "It's not something to get worked up over. Just breath."
They sat like that for a while, Red Alert curled against Coldstar while she talked him through venting. When his processor quieted, Red Alert sat up, rolling his shoulders, and stretching stiff fingers. He couldn't remember when he'd started having panic fits, probably not long after youngling services began letting anybot remotely qualified try fostering him. But in the years since Coldstar brought him home, he'd gotten so much better, due both to the stable family and supplements a doctor prescribed.
"You think you met Prowl?" Red Alert swallowed, striving to ignore the tremble in his words. "That he's an enforcer?"
"Yes. He gave Hound his communication number, in case you wanted to get in contact."
Closing blue optics, Red Alert nodded slowly. "I'm going to try talking with him." A few more deep breaths. "Soon."
Coldstar smile. "I think that's a good idea 'Lert. He seems like a mech who could use a friend."