Disclaimer: TF © Hasbro
Warnings: AU and minor angst
Notes: This came about from a visit to the bunny farm over on LJ (the link should be somewhere in my profile, I think...). It kept staring at me, and I'm weak, so this was the result. Bunny originally by kirin_saga; seeker-cant elements are Sanjuno's; the lullaby lyrics are mine.
He could still remember what it was like to fly, even though he hadn't had wings of his own for so many vorns now.
Back then he had been Cloudjumper, his creators' only winglet and their greatest source of joy. He had known even from a very young age that something kept him from having co-creations; it was only when he was a bit older that he learned that only one of the three had been capable of carrying a newspark to term, and that an accident while on the job had led to the reabsorption of what would have been a femme sibling and prevented his bearer from conceiving again.
It hadn't mattered much, not to any of them. Cloudjumper was the pride of all three of his creators, and they showered him with affection. Even now, he could hear his bearer crooning lullabies in seeker-cant whenever he drifted into recharge:
Hush, little winglet, please don't you cry. Someday soon you, too, shall fly.
Life should have been simple, easy; Vos had been flourishing and the troubles of the rest of Cybertron had been almost akin to the stories creators told about the Quintessons coming to take away naughty sparklings who would not listen to their elders. His creators, however, did have their concerns regarding how quickly the dissenters were gathering, and the day that Kaon fell had the family unit making a quick decision that would change all of their lives.
Cloudjumper had been barely out of his youngling stage and should by rights have been on his way to one of the academies when true war had broken out and mechs began scrambling to choose sides. The seekers were quickly rallying around the dissenters and their leader, a one-time gladiator by the name of Megatron; Cloudjumper and his family did not trust the mech and chose to side with the Autobot regime. Yet before they could flee the city, a small battalion of the rebels confronted the family unit and demanded that they come along quietly. In the ensuing melee, Cloudjumper was gravely injured and two of his creators were seriously damaged as well before they were able to escape.
He didn't remember the flight from Vos to Iacon, nor could he recall much of the conversation that had ensued with the medic on duty. When he was fully aware again, the young mech realized his wings were gone and his frame felt horribly wrong. His creators were huddled around him, expressions of concern and love and resolve on their faceplates as they stroked his limbs and hummed reassurances. Apparently the Autobots didn't have the materials needed to repair a seeker frame as horrifically damaged as his had been, and with his spark in danger of extinguishing his creators had been forced to choose between losing their only winglet or having him placed in the first available frame.
What made it worse was the fact that his creators wouldn't be remaining in the camp. With so many seekers joining the rebel faction, the trine had been tapped as infiltrators and assigned to "join" the Decepticons, working from within to aid their fellow Autobots. The only mechs aware of the double agents were their handler Jazz, the Prime, the medic who had allowed them the opportunity to bid their creation farewell before being forced to leave, and Cloudjumper himself.
Only he wasn't Cloudjumper anymore; the designation no longer suited him. He kept it stored in his memory files, waiting for the day that he would be given back his wings and his creators didn't have to keep living a lie. Until that time, he went by the designation that his three creators had whispered to him before they left: "Until we share the skies again, our Cloudjumper will have to be Cliffjumper instead."
Cliffjumper hated having to wait for so very long, especially now that the war had been dragged to a completely new world and still showed no signs of ending anytime soon. The only things that kept him truly sane were slipping away from the Ark to at least see the sky when the need for flight became too much, recording the seekers flying above during battles, and listening to his creators over the bond the four of them still shared. And when he sometimes had difficulty falling into recharge, he allowed himself the memory of Starscream quietly humming in seeker-cant to lull him to slumber:
Hush, little winglet, please don't you weep. In Primus' hands your wings he'll keep.
Final Notes: Anyone who guessed that TC and Warp were also involved, give yourself a cookie. And the creators who were injured were TC (who made a full recovery) and Screamer (whose vocalizer was damaged beyond repair, leaving him sounding the way he does).