Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…
AN: Some editing has been done, thus the reposting. If you see any spelling/grammar errors, please do not hesitate to point it out. Thank you!
Summary: Seeklets instinctually know whom their trinemates are when they see them and will do anything to be beside them, even if they have to wait all their lives. Light slash. Baby seekers!
Seeklets: Reaching Out
The small seeklet clicked once in irritation, staring out over the vast expanse of open sky, eyeing the passing transportation units with distain. He disliked the noise they made, the grinding of poorly maintained gears ringing in his audio receptors like claws to a glass panel, and even more so the smell they emitted as they passed. It made him want to hit them, even if he'd likely only end up hurting himself in the process.
"Ramjet, away from the balcony." The white seeklet turned briefly to look up at his creator, bright, wide optics narrowing slightly into a look of blatant defiance. His wing nubs twitched violently.
His creator merely shook his head at the look and walked back into their tower complex, obviously not deeming it worth the effort to deal with his seeklet's rebellious attitude. Ramjet was a hard head, even for one so young, and it didn't take much to figure out the youngling just didn't budge when he was in one of his moods.
Flicking his wing nubs again, Ramjet turned his attention back to the open skies and rested his helm heavily on the side of the railing, letting a small keen of distress escape his vocalizer when he was sure his creator was out of hearing range. His wings quivered slightly as he hid his face in his hands.
Charge. Ram. Break. He had the uncontrollable urge to ram himself against anything that annoyed him, to make them stop, to show them that they were bothering him and that he could hurt them if they didn't cease. Unfortunately, almost everything seemed to agitate him. It was a deeply ingrained reaction, one he had used to get his creator's attention when his pitiful clicking and whines failed. It was a survival method all its own, one that had since outlived its purpose.
However, that impulse to destroy, the need to be rid of the discomforts was somehow sated when he sat at this particular spot. Sure, the passing transports and elder seekers got to him, made him feel that cold, jittery feeling right before he went on one of his tantrums, but somehow sitting at the very edge of the balcony helped him relax. Had he understood the term, he could only describe the feeling as a pull on his spark.
It felt right somehow.
The blue seeklet squealed in protest as he was set down in the large pen, clicking in distress and digging his fingers as tightly as a seeklet could into his creator's finger joints. His wing nubs were rapidly fluttering in anguish as he let loose a long, high-pitched wail of terror when his creator finally managed to remove his small fingers from his thumb.
"Dirge." The creator scolded, straightening up to his full height and placing his hands on his hips firmly. "Stop this nonsense this instance." The sparkling only wailed louder and the elder seeker's wings twitched once in regret.
It was no secret that his little Dirge had abandonment issues after his carrier left, and to make matters all the worst that same carrier had abandoned him in the middle of a busy skyway. So now he had a seeklet who had abandonment issues and was afraid of anything unfamiliar.
The creator sighed sadly as we watched down at his screeching seeklet, shoulders slumped and wings drooping slightly in defeat. His gave a small click down to his sparkling to try to comfort him, but it only served to cause Dirge to pull himself as far up the pen side as he could at try to reach him- only to plop down piteously on his aft a second later.
Dirge wailed, his creator sighed.
"My, my, what have we here?" A light, smooth voice reached the pair's audio receptors as a slight, graceful seeker femme slipped into the room, a bright red sparkling in hand. "It would seem your little one has quite an attachment to you." Though there was something unnerving about her optics- blearing bright silver as they were- her voice was gentle, if a bit snide.
The seeklet in her hand straightened up, puffing out his tiny chassis and flaring his wing nubs as wide as they'd go, but promptly shrunk in on himself with a small whimper the moment Dirge's creator sent them both a shy smile. He clicked, hid his face under his creator's arm, flared out threateningly for a brief moment, and then went back into hiding.
This went on for about a breem, before the red seeklet's creator grabbed hold of his tiny waist and held him out in front of her. "This is Thrust, my sparkling. Scrawny little thing though." She added as an after thought.
The seeklet squealed in freight, and the femme only smirked affectionately as she tucked him back into the safety of her arm. He hissed, hissed, as he snatched onto her side like a clamp the moment he was within reach of her chassis.
Catching the hint, the other creator introduced himself. "Greetings. I am Boosterflare. May I ask your designation?"
The femme's optics flashed a strange shade of platinum for a brief moment before it returned to its normal light silver. She smirked wider. "Such a gentlebot." She raised an optic ridge in amusement. "I am Mercury, the district's executioner." A dark glint flashed in her optics and Boosterflare shivered unconsciously. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance on…such terms." She mocked his formality, giving a low bow, but never breaking optic contact.
"Oh, huh, I, huh…" Boosterflare tried to speak, failed horrendously, and tried to speak again, but luckily, or unluckily, Mercury cut his rather pathetic stuttering off.
"Welcome to your first day of combat training. May Primus have mercy on your spark." She smiled then, a dark, foreboding smile.
Boosterflare swallowed hard and Dirge shivered.
Thrust clicked curiously, looking up at his creator and tilting his head to the side in wonderment.
Most bots that met his creator often stuttered when she spoke to them, so he was use to it, though he never understood why they did so. All well, all he had to do now was wait for the other to start crying, get dragged into the white door at the other end of the office room, and then go home. That's how it usually went.
Thrust's optics shifted slightly, looking down at the other sparkling and clicked once. He wondered who that blue seeklet was and if he too had an appointment with his creator.
Hopefully not, because he usually never saw the bots again after they've gone through the white door…and the blue seeklet makes him feel warm inside.
He likes the feeling.
A small chirp in the distance caught his attention, and when the white seeklet glanced up and down over the edge of the railing, he clicked curiously at the sight below him.
In the tower over, just a few stories down from his own, he spotted a bright red seeklet stumbling about beside the railing, followed closely by a trembling, blue seeklet. The white seeklet fluttered his wing nubs excitedly at the sight of other younglings, chirping and clicking excitedly as his spark suddenly began to warm in small bursts of sensations he could not describe. He leaned dangerously over the railing, shoving his small helm as far as he could through the bar openings to get a better look at the others.
The red one was obviously leading, flaring his wing nubs out in a show of bravo as he begun to push his way through the railing opening and sat on the outside of it- only to screech in terror the moment he looked down and became too panicked to refit through the bars properly. The blue one was cowering in horror, clicking pitifully through the static of his cries.
The red one kept hitting his small helm to the bars in small clicks as he wailed and tried to climb it, panicking.
When the red one finally managed to fit through the railing again, he dashed to the side of the blue one and hide his helm from the rest of the world, flickering his wing nubs in distress and shivering. The blue one wasn't much better off. Ramjet watched the scene with fascination, rubbing at the strange sensations his spark made at the sight of them.
The white seeklet jerked bodily as he watched the seeklets finally recover enough to uncurl from one another, before the red one huffed out again and flared his tiny wing nubs. The red seeklet clicked rapidly. The blue one only clicked back and followed as the red one once more began wondering about the tower rim.
Ramjet all but purred at the sight of them, his spark ricocheting violently within its chamber. His wing nubs flared, matching that of the red seeklet's as he began clicking his excitement.
He wanted to go to them. He did not understand why he was suddenly so compelled to be at the other younglings' side, but somehow knew instinctually that he was meant to be with them. They made him feel happy, in a way that no one before ever had, as though they were special in some way.
Then, it happened.
The blue one stopped dead in his tracks, bright, innocent optics wide and perfectly still, and plopped down on his little rear, clicking in confusion. He began to rub at his spark cover with tiny fingers, wing nubs twitching gently as he strained to look down at his chassis properly. The red one noticed this and immediately went to the other's side, also rubbing at his spark chamber, clicking just as curiously.
Then the red one rubbed his own chassis, just as curious of the sudden feeling of warmth that had meshed into the warmth that'd been growing since they'd met each other. He chirped in wonderment as the sensations.
A sudden snap of recognition flared within their sparks and they turned their small helms, coming optic to optic with a lone, white seeklet watching them from above. His bright, red optics glinted in the sunlight shining brilliantly upon the tower's high levels, luminescent against his white coloring.
Thrust hissed as he huffed out his chassis in a show of daring, though the entire act lost its luster since he took a step back at the same time. The blue one only clicked softly, unsure of what to make of the new sparkling, but not able to feel fear towards him either.
All of their sparks felt they were about to burst.
It was surprisingly Dirge who made the first move. The blue seeklet stumbled to the railing edge, cautiously, and the red one followed, stopping only when they had reached the outer edge. Ramjet had also leaned in as close as he could, even hanging off the edge a bit to be as close as possible to the other seeklets.
They were all curious, all intrigued, but most of all, they all felt a pull like nothing they've even felt before drawing them to each other, as though wanting them to become whole.
They locked optics, young and bewildered, silent, until the white seeklet raised his small hand and reached out through the bars, as though calling to them what he could never express through sound.
The other seeklets responded, reaching out to the other as well, longing to complete a connection they did not fully understand themselves.
Despite the distance between them and the words they could not express, they stayed there, together, even after the sun had set and their creators called out to them in earnest they did not sway.
They knew, though they did not now how, that one day they would be together, and when that day came, neither bars nor distance would ever keep them apart again. They felt this in their sparks as certainly as they knew they would die should their sparks stop rotating.
It was their first great truth.
All they had to do was keep reaching out.
AN: I am resisting the impulse to cuddle the little seeklets and all their cuteness! I guess I'll just have to settle for my computer screen then. Hope you enjoyed it.
Please review…