I wrote an early version of this story back in August 2010. Now, I've finally gotten around to finishing it.
The blanket of a summer night lay over Michigan, its rhinestone-studded velvet shrouding the landscape like a cloak. Without the moon, the many stars of the Milky Way shone, visible against the black void. With crickets and frogs chirping and croaking a chorus, it seemed like a perfect night. But for one, it was not.
In a field, a large figure sat, huddled with his legs drawn into his chest. He was trembling, and making loud clicks that sounded vaguely like sobbing. Wasp, as he was named, had ended up here after a panicked run from the Elite Guard. After trying unsuccessfully to gain revenge on Bumblebee through switching places with the yellow mech, he had fled out of Detroit, and kept running until he was out of energy. Needing recharge, he had collapsed in this field. When he had awakened, he considered his situation, and broken down sobbing. He, at this point, wanted nothing more than to be understood and believed. Oh, how he longed to be cleared of those charges, to be repaired, to be free.
But no, no one believed him. As soon at that yellow bumbler and his stretchy-armed friend had framed him in boot camp, it was over. He had been stripped of his dignity, sent to rot in the stockades. Even his family abandoned him, believing the charges to be true. He had been tortured for intelligence he didn't have, and when that didn't work, he was simply thrown in the supermax block with the worst mechs and femmes, some ten times his size. As the smallest in that block, he was beaten, tortured, starved, and even raped, all for the sadistic amusement of the other prisoners. After stellar cycles of basically being a toy, he had escaped, but was much different than when he went in.
He just wanted to be an Autobot, but a cruel twist of fate had destroyed it.
Wasp was still sobbing when he felt a small mass rub up against one leg. Surprised by the sudden contact, he tensed, his head shooting up erect.
"Who's there?" he asked in his distorted metallic voice. But he got no vocal response, only a faint humming like that of an idling engine. The mass against his leg started to move back and forth along it, briefly pulling away before switching direction. When the movement stopped, he looked down to the leg which had felt the touching, and saw a small organic creature. Covered in black and white fur, it was looking up at him.
The sight of the creature terrified Wasp. Remembering the boot camp days where he had been warned of the dangers of organic life, he stiffened, too afraid to move. His optics were locked on it as it jumped, first onto his leg, then up onto his torso. As it traversed his body, he started to panic inwardly.
It'll slime me with acid, and it'll be over! Wasp braced for it.
But much to his surprise, it stopped on his chestplate, right above his spark, and flopped down, rolling around. Eventually, it stopped, and curled into a ball, purring.
Wasp was confused by this behavior. The thing wasn't attacking him, nor was it trying to harm him. Instead, it seemed to be seeking the heat that his body was giving off. After contemplating what to do, Wasp carefully lifted one hand to his chest, and gently laid it on the creature.
The creature made no movements, though the purring sound became louder. Wasp hesitantly started moving his finger side to side, across the creature. It purred even louder, and started shifting and rolling. Eventually, it stood up, and started rubbing itself against Wasp's fingers, seemingly returning the favor.
Wasp couldn't help but think about it. This… creature, seemed to be the first thing that had shown him any kind of love in a long time. It took a while to process, but eventually, something seemingly magical happened.
For the first time in many stellar cycles, a smile started to appear on Wasp's face. Not a smile of evil or of fib, but a smile of true happiness. Being with this little creature seemed to have worked a wonder on him. He smiled, grateful to again have someone who loved him.
The cat soon settled down, and went to sleep on Wasp's chest again. Wasp decided to leave it there, for its warmth comforted him as much as his did for it. Looking to the stars, he couldn't help but feel serene. Even if it was brief, he had felt something other than anger or sorrow. Happiness was something he hadn't known in a long time, and he had forgotten how it made you feel. This experience, even though it was brief, was something which he would always treasure.