Chapter 2: Struggles

Disclaimer: Transformers is a Hasbro product, has been since its creation back in 1984. All Transformers, names, etc. are property of Hasbro.

Bluestreak ran through the house while Barricade and Bumblebee showed him around and played as Jazz set the shower in their small washroom. "Mechlings don't run in the house. I know you love First Aid but he won't love me if any of you end up with cracks or dents," he teased as they stopped within the doorway looking up at him gleefully.

Barricade stepped in first once he noticed Jazz pulling out a sparkling bristle scrub brush and the bottle of solvent out form the cabinet. Jazz guided him into the wash, water bathing over them both as Jazz began to wash Barricade who laughed because it tickled. Once clean, he stepped out and dried himself off while Bumblebee pulled Bluestreak with him into the wash for their cleaning.

Hesitantly, Bluestreak stepped under the water as Jazz began washing Bumblebee. The tiny bot clicked in ticklish response before Jazz patted his helm and gestured him out to go be dried off by his eldest brother.

"Come on, Blue," Jazz stated softly. "We have to get all cleaned up before we settle in for the day." Motioning him over with his hand extended out towards him.

Bluestreak cautiously stepped back, terrified that he might be punished only to be caught by Barricade who clicked at him, pushing him forward. Jazz caught Blue and placed him under the water then began washing the sparkling who struggled at first before relaxing under the caring touches that weren't hurting him.

As Jazz began washing the solvent within Bluestreak's shoulder joints he noticed the blue plating paint beginning to bubble under the solvent and peel away from the water. "Huh?" Curious, Jazz began to work his way out from the pealed paint across Bluestreak's frame, minding given damaged locations.

Both Barricade and Bumblebee stared as the watched their new sparkling brother change before their eyes from a blue mech to a silverish-grey with a red protoform.

Unseen by to other two, Jazz noticed the damage on Bluestreak's back. It was apparent something was torn off his small frame in a violent manner and then he was painted over. Jazz sighed as be gently rubbed Bluestreak's spinal strut while he cleaned out the damaged chassis.

Bluestreak flinched every so often as the soft bristles ran across his back, opening the damaged wires and frame work that the plating paint masked.

When Jazz finished, he turned off the water and picked Bluestreak up, carrying him to their drying rack and began to dry them off. "There we go," he cheerfully stated to the three little mechs who looked up at him then at Bluestreak. "Squeaky clean." Jazz turned and reached for the sparklings' oil and lubricants and set to work tending to their frames before getting the wax out.

Once all were polished and sealed, clearing materials were placed away before Jazz turned to the sparklings. "Ready for some energon?" He asked them as he noticed Bee suckling on his lower lip component. The three sparklings lit up and ran towards the storage locker, bouncing up and down for their meal.

Jazz followed behind them in laughter as he pulled out three small cubes and handed them to the little mechs who went to sit on the floor and began feasting.

Jazz sighed and brought his hand up to his helm, servos clicking his comm open as he called First Aid.

"Aid speaking," First Aid responded.

"Hey," Jazz began, "I think you need to come by and give Bluestreak another look over."

"Oh?" First Aid actually sounded surprised.

"Yes. We just finished showers and Bluestreak was wearing plating paint. It came off during the wash and he was damage on his back. I think he may have had door wings," Jazz told the medic as he glanced at the three sparklings who seemed to be engaged in conversation.

First Aid was caught off guard by this revelation and knew by other mechs experiences that door wings hurt at paralyzing levels from little damage to them. "I'll be right over. I'll bring my kit to give him a thorough examination."

"Alright, they might be in recharge when you get here but it should be fine. I'll see if I can keep him awake though."

"Alright," First Aid was gather several items, subspacing them, "I should be there within a cycle."

First Aid was literally dumbfounded by the amount of damage the sparkling had gone through. It was hard enough to fathom the assault upon such a cute little mech but this was ridiculous. Whoever did this to something so fragile and young should be…

No. Don't think of such things. First Aid told himself as he himself as he put his equipment away before glancing at the datapad he'd written out with a list of additional parts needed.

Jazz held the recharging sparkling against his chassis as he hummed his engine to sing to Bluestreak as he slept. "Is he going to be alright?" Jazz asked softly, catching First Aid's attention.

"He'll be fine. The sealant should keep anything form of infection from setting in and keep his circuits from being exposed until we can get him properly repaired."

Jazz nodded, glancing down at the little frame in his arms. "I understand."

The two had already talked during Bluestreak's examination about prices and parts and Jazz was begin to feel the strain of worry creep into his processor as he watched their credits near almost zero.

It's worth it, he told himself as he clung to the little sparkling. You are worth it. He told the sparkling through his mental thoughts, knowing the little being couldn't hear them.

First Aid placed a hand on Jazz's shoulder. "Hey, I'll see if I can't get you any of your credits back. I'll send in a medical request stating his case along with a report to the Elite Guard and the Sciences Division. Maybe, they can overlook the full price because he's so young."

Jazz glanced up at First Aid, locking optics with him. "Thanks First Aid."

First Aid nodded then left shortly afterwards, leaving his friend to recharge.

Bluestreak awoke not long after hearing the front door shut and beeps of it locking. He stared up into Jazz's sleeping faceplate, his visor darkened from offline optics. He listened to Jazz's engine purr to him as he lay against the mech's chassis.

He remembered this feeling. He couldn't remember from where but he remembered it and leaned further against Jazz. He somehow felt safe. Nothing was going to happen to him ever again.

The little sparkling offlined his optics as he thought about his new family. He had two brother, one older, one younger, and a new creator… hopefully.

"…streak." A soft warm voice echoed within his CPU to his processor. "Bluestreak…"

Huh? He responded, finding himself surrounded by a void of darkness, stepping forward slowly while looking around. His little form completely intact with door wings and all.

"Bluestreak…..-un," The echo called out suddenly in desperation as the little sparkling wondering in the darkness as his pedes echoed within the emptiness. Suddenly several malice looking optics, both blue and red, appeared around him and a wave of terror washed over Bluestreak as the voice yelled out again in desperation. "Run!"

"Bluestreak! Bluestreak!"

Bluestreak woke to the sound of someone calling his name as he was shaken gently. He onlined his optics to see Jazz staring down at him with a worried expression.

"Bluestreak, it's okay. You're safe now." Jazz told the trembling sparkling.

Trembling? Bluestreak realized he indeed was trembling within Jazz's arms.

Jazz hugged Bluestreak murmuring over and over and he rubbed his spinal strut that everything was going to be fine and that he was safe. Blue clung to Jazz as he realized what he saw wasn't real and that he was safe.

Slowly, recharge claimed him once more.

Jazz sighed as he walked to the security check point on his way to work. He and his sparklings lived within sector nine of the Delta district but he had to walk to sector four of Echo district every time he worked.

In his own opinion he didn't mind the walk, considering it was far enough away from home with several security points he could tell if he was being followed. Plus, it was an advantage because his sparklings were safe while he was stuck around miner-bots and other riff-raff that came in during his shifts.

Tonight though, would be like any other night. Slammer's Place was the name of the bar he worked as a waiter and sometimes he'd dance with one of the femme's during their performances if they wished him to. He wasn't one to say no and his boss was very understanding if Jazz didn't wish to wear a matching to the femmes when he would perform.

Slammer and the others all knew about Jazz being a parent to sparklings not his own and teyt considered it admirable that he was willing to work at a place like theirs just to ensure things were provided for them.

But, due to recent events in the last stellar-cycle, he might have to talk with Slammer about accepting maybe just one of those propositions he keeps getting.

Jazz felt a little dead inside, but he had already weighed his families options out at home and if Slammer could get even one client to propose the right amount then it would be worth giving himself up for them.

It's only once and you won't give you spark. He told himself over and over again, trying to build the courage to follow through. It's for the boys. I don't want to lose them.

Walking around the bend, he saw the bar in the distance and sighed a deep sigh through his vents.

He cleared his processor as he entered through the back and clocked in before heading towards Slammer's office.

Knock knock

"Slammer?" He said, peeking his head in as Slammer glanced up from between the femme spread eagle before him across his desk, faceplate burning red with lust and desire as her engine purred loudly from her excitement, his own lower faceplate covered in the femme's lubricants.

Jazz flushed red and averted his optics to the doorframe. "Um, I wanted to talk to you about something important…when you have the time."

He heard the femme muse from his embarrassment and Slammer sigh. "Alright kid, I'll be finished up here in a few kliks."

Jazz nodded and closed the door and he left, completely flushed with heated faceplates. He really wished Slammer would start locking his door.

He went off to the locker room and began getting ready for the night. He removed his visor and pulled out a can of black latex paint and began covering his entire form before adding a facemask to cover the lower half of his faceplate.

When he was finished he walked out of the locker room a new mech. He went behind the counter of the bar and began with his duties setting the bar up before walking the empty floor.

To be continue…

A\N: In case no one's figured it out Bluestreak is his G1 form as well as several of the others. Barricade is the only one that isn't. I think he'd be cuter with his movie-verse colours and form vs. the strange blue and pink G1 drag racing form and colours.