Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or Jolt, the little bugger :)
Legend:
Nanoclick—1 second
Breem—8.3 minutes
Groon—1 hour
Orbital cycle/Orbit—1 day
Orn—13 days
And the reader who left the longest review—not to mention, actually wanted to spend the day with the terror twins :D—is…Autobot Aftershock!
Hubero: *Hands over a large metal cube to Autobot Aftershock* Careful, that's precious cargo in there, jostle it too much and they'll escape the little subspace pocket I trapped 'em in! *Turns to Prowl* Well, there you go. I got rid of the twins for a day. A deal's a deal.
Prowl: *Somewhat hesitantly* Why did I agree to this?
Hubero: You wanted to temporarily get rid of the twins. I did. Now hand them over.
Prowl: *Sighs and carefully hands over Hubero's previously apprehended rollerblades*
Hubero: *Very formally* Thank you. *Straps them on and takes off* Whooooo hoooo! Skids and Mudflap, here I come!
Prowl: What? No, come back here! *Chases after*
Thunderstrike strode down the hall, often times stopping to check the switches and neural wires on various generators, while keeping a careful optic on the small electric blue form that followed him.
"Keep up Jolt," he called when he realized how far behind his creation was.
"I'm trying dad!" the youngling huffed in response, staring up at a nearby generator. Thunderstrike watched with some apprehension as his son seemed to analyze the generator.
"Don't get too close," he warned.
"I won't," Jolt called back, transfixed by the energy that seemed to crackle inside. Thunderstrike watched for a couple cycles before realizing the time.
"Jolt," he gained the little mech's attention. "I need to get back to my office."
"Okay!" the youngling promptly forgot about the generator and bounded towards his dad. He reached his creator and kept on racing down the hall.
"What are you—" Thunderstrike blinked.
"Race you back!" he shouted over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner. The mech creator sighed. As much as he loved his son, sometimes the youngling was a bit wearing on the nerves. Just where did he get all his energy? Not from him or his sparkmate. Surely all younglings weren't like this? He'd seen how other younglings behaved and Thunderstrike was positive that his was—somehow—the exception. The mech turned the corner and glanced both ways. His struts could use the exercise, he mused. Surely there was no harm in jogging down the hallway? Decision made, Thunderstrike flashed down the hallway, eventually catching up to his son at his office door.
"Beat ya!" the mechling boasted.
"Only because I let you," he chuckled, rubbing his son's helm before keying in his code and stepping inside.
"Yea right," Jolt's grin never wavered. "You just got really slow reflixes."
"Reflexes," Thunderstrike corrected absentmindedly as he sat at his desk. A few nanoseconds later, his helm snapped to Jolt—who was reaching for a datapad on the nearby shelf.
"I do not," he said indignantly, finally processing what the mechling had said. Jolt grinned at him.
"Do to."
"Do not."
"Do to."
"Do not."
"To."
"Not."
"To." A knock on the door interrupted their banter.
"Come in," Thunderstrike drawled before glancing at his son. "I do not," he added. "I can take you on any day, so you'd best remember that." Jolt grinned at the silly face his creator made before turning to see who wanted to see his creator. A yellow mech with silver accents walked in. A red cross was stamped on his upper left chest plate, signifying that he was part of the med caste. Jolt's attention, however, was grabbed by the red and white youngling the mech held in his servos.
"Hello Aesculapius," Thunderstrike greeted with a smile.
"Thunderstrike," the medic nodded in return.
"Ah, is this your creation you have told me so much about?" Thunderstrike's gaze shifted to the youngling. "First Aid, right?"
"That is correct," said Aesculapius before he tilted his head towards the little mechling in question. "This is my boss First Aid. Can you say hello?" The little mech's wide blue optics—which had been focused intently on the ground—shyly met Thunderstrike's kind gaze.
"Hello," he murmured in a soft voice before ducking his helm down again. Thunderstrike smiled at the youngling's meekness. It was a pleasant reprieve from his creation's usual brash and loud personality. Aesculapius's mouth twitched, no doubt correctly reading Thunderstrike's reaction.
"Well it's very nice to meet you," Thunderstrike replied before gesturing to Jolt. "This is my creation, Jolt."
Said mechling eyed the newcomer. It wasn't that he minded strangers. Normally he was quite outgoing and made friends quite easily. The only reason he held back and viewed the shy youngling with some apprehension, was the fact that he had a feeling what was going to happen, which would completely ruin his plan for this orbit.
He'd been planning his little…excursion…for orns! It was hard enough when his creator didn't bring him to work every orbit cycle. And now he was trying to distract him by setting him up with a play date! With a youngling that hadn't even looked at him yet! Jolt was brought out of his thoughts by a digit poking his side.
"Say hello, Jolt," his creator urged.
"Hullo," he said rather unenthusiastically. Immediately, he could feel his mech creator's displeasure over their bond. "Uh…nice to meet you," he added hastily. The red and white mechling raised his optics from the floor to glance at him. Their gaze held for a few nanoclicks until First Aid glanced away.
At that moment, there was another knock at the door before it swished open. A pink femme with green accents walked in. Jolt's optics widened before he turned and flat out glared at his creator.
'You didn't,' he practically seethed over the bond.
'Now Jolt, she's a very nice femme,' his creator tried to placate the youngling. The highly annoyed mechling chose to ignore his mech creator and close their bond from his side as much as he could. Although he couldn't completely close it, he was still able to mute it somewhat. Thunderstrike hid a wince. He understood that—for whatever reason—Jolt didn't care for the femme, but she had been the only one available…not to mention one of the very very select few who would even accept the assignment he was about to deliver.
"Morganite," Thunderstike addressed the waiting femme with a thankful smile, "Thank you for so much for coming."
"Not a problem," she chirped, clasping her servos together. "I just love watching over little Jay Jay!" Out of the corner of his optic, Thunderstrike could see Jolt twitch. Okay, he had to admit, perhaps Jolt's strong dislike of the femme stemmed from her very carrying—but stifling—nature. Jolt was a very adventurous and independent mechling. Thunderstrike's sparkmate blamed him for Jolt's behavior, claiming it was genetics, but Thunderstrike denied it. Even he hadn't been that…high-strung during his younglinghood.
Both Thunderstrike and his sparkmate dearly loved their creation and tried their best to allow him as much room to grow and develop into the mech he was meant to be. They constantly made sure to not pressure Jolt or forcing him to conform to their preferences. That didn't necessarily mean they never punished the mechling. Oh no, they were not lacking in that department. If Jolt did something wrong they made sure to point it out. But instead of telling Jolt what he did was wrong and punishing him, they tended to sit him down and explain in detail why it was wrong. Jolt was smart. He understood much more than others gave him credit. They had learned early on just how smart their little creation was.
But as dearly as Thunderstrike loved his little mechling, sometimes Jolt's loud and energetic personality came with its downfalls. One of which was trying to find temporary caretakers while neither he nor his sparkmate could watch the mechling. Whenever he was lucky enough to get a new temporary caretaker, he'd return to either a peeved caretaker ranting about everything that happened while he was gone or they'd march out of the room without saying a word to him, excluding their refusal to ever watch over Jolt again. If he didn't know any better, Thunderstrike would have believed that the mechling enjoyed seeing how long each caretaker lasted until they cracked. If that was the case, perhaps that was another reason why Jolt disliked Morganite. The femme just kept coming back which Thunderstrike was eternally grateful for.
Thunderstrike rose from his desk and crossed the room to stand beside Aesculapius.
"We should only be gone for a few Groons," he told her. "Just make sure they don't—"
"Get into anything they're not supposed to, break anything, or set off any alarms," she finished for him, hearing the lecture many times before. "I got it. Go on, we'll be fine."
Thunderstrike thought he heard Jolt mutter, "Speak for yourself," but he wasn't sure, so he pretended not to have heard the comment. Aesculapius knelt down and set First Aid on the ground.
"I'll be back soon," he reassured the nervous looking mechling, his giant servo resting on the miniature helm. "Have fun with Jolt, okay?" First Aid nodded hesitantly. The med caste mech rubbed his helm affectionately before rising and following Thunderstrike out the door.
Jolt's POV
Jolt watched his mech creator and employee stride out of the room, a thoughtful frown resting on his faceplates. His mech creator had just unknowingly—or perhaps it had been on purpose. It was difficult for Jolt to read the mech and tell just how much he knew—made Jolt's self-assigned task more difficult.
"Okay!" Morganite clapped her two servos together. "What should we do? Do you two want to play a game? Does that sound fun?" Jolt slowly dragged his gaze from the now shut door—did his creator lock it or leave it unlocked?—to the beaming pink femme. He analyzed her coolly, forming and scraping a multitude of escape plans.
After receiving no answer from either mechling, the pink femme decided to crouch in front of First Aid—who was closer, thank Primus—and smiled at him.
"What would you like to do my little First Aidy?" she cooed. The red and white youngling leaned back slightly, as if unsure how to handle her sudden forward…bubbliness. Jolt silently watched the exchange. Red Aid glanced to the blue youngling, as if silently asking what he should do…or was he asking for help? The little red and white youngling hadn't even known the femme for a Breem, and already he seemed wary of her. Hmmm, the kid had potential.
"Hide and seek," Jolt finally suggested. The pink femme glanced at him, surprised that the mech had spoken up, since he seemed to dislike talking to her. First Aid appeared to vent a silent sigh, relieved to no longer be the focus of her attention.
Morganite glanced around the office.
"There…doesn't seem to be too many places to hide," she considered the idea aloud.
"That's what you think," was Jolt's smug reply. She frowned only slightly before a smile was back on her face.
"Well," she faced First Aid once more. "Would you like to play hide and seek?" He gave a small nod. Jolt's mouth twitched, understanding the mech's quick acceptance of the game. Surely anything was better than having the femme hovering above and cooing like she was speaking to a sparkling. "Okay," she straightened, offlining her optics. "You have thirty nanoclicks to hide."
"You need to turn off your audio receptors and sensors," Jolt frowned. He couldn't have her tracking him, otherwise his plan wouldn't work. She opened her optics.
"But Jay Jay," she smiled and explained as if she were talking to a sparkling. "I'm supposed to watch over you. You heard your creator."
"You can't use your sensors!" Jolt bristled, annoyed that she was being so difficult. She opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off by a soft voice.
"That would be cheating," First Aid spoke for the second time since coming into the office. Morganite blinked at him, for this was the first time she had heard him speak. She stared at Jolt suspiciously.
"Do you promise not to leave this room?" she asked. She knew that Jolt's creators had instilled inside their creation a strong set of moral values. He had been raised with the belief that promises were sacred. He would not break a promise.
"We promise to hide in the room," he nodded agreeably. The pink femme relaxed.
"Well…okay then." She closed her optics and turned off her audio receptors and sensors. She didn't worry about First Aid leaving the room. Although she had just met him, she could tell that he was not one to instigate trouble. He was a rule follower. He wasn't a leader. He would follow Jolt's example. And Jolt promised to stay in the room.
Jolt grinned widely. That had been almost too easy.
"One…Two…Three…" she started to count. Jolt silently scrambled to his prepared escape route. First Aid stopped his search for a hiding spot to watch with growing curiosity and some apprehension. With great agility for his age, Jolt hopped onto his creator's desk and leapt onto the low hanging shelf. He reached up and pried off the air circulation grate. He took only a moment to silently set down the grate and then he was pulling himself into the vent.
Jolt quietly shuffled down the metal interior, following the map that he had memorized beforehand. He waited at an intersection; down below he could see two employees strolling down the hall. When it was okay for him to continue on, Jolt started forward, but something snagged his pede. Startled, the blue youngling whirled around. He frowned at what he saw.
"What are you doing?" he hissed at First Aid.
"Me?" he asked in disbelief, his servo still gripping Jolt's pede. "What are you doing?"
"Hiding," he sniffed. First Aid frowned at him. It was strange seeing such a disapproving look on such a young face.
"We're not supposed to leave the room," he continued, not finished in his lecture. "You promised not to leave the room." Dear Primus, Jolt wanted to groan. A youngling was trying to lecture him of all things.
"I didn't promise not to leave the room," he tugged his captured pede. First Aid refused to let go. For such a small and shy mechling, he sure had an iron grip.
"You promised to hide in the room," said the red and white mechling.
"Exactly," Jolt nodded. There was a pause.
"Huh?" First Aid looked very confused, although whether it was from his quick agreement or his words, Jolt couldn't tell. The blue youngling rolled his optics.
"I never specified which room I was going to hide in," he elaborated, finally pulling his pede free. He started to crawl forward once more.
"B-But…we'll get in trouble!" First Aid tried to dissuade his blue playmate.
"Shhh!" First Aid winced.
"We'll get caught," he said, quieter this time.
"Only if she finds us," Jolt snickered. "And she won't because she'll only be looking in the office." First Aid didn't say anything, apparently out of persuasive tactics. Jolt turned forward and began to crawl towards his destination. A few moments later, he heard First Aid shuffling behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see the red and white mechling following him.
"What are you doing?" he blinked.
"Following you."
"I can see that," Jolt huffed. "But why?"
"…To make sure you don't do anything stupid," he replied lowly, refusing to meet Jolt's optics. He could see that the mechling was nervous, scared even. Why was he—oh. First Aid was afraid that Jolt would make him leave, send him back to Morganite.
Jolt toyed with the idea of telling the mechling not to follow him. He'd probably only slow him down. And he wasn't as quiet as Jolt. He probably didn't have even half the experience Jolt did of sneaking around. But if he sent him back to the office, First Aid might blab to Morganite. Jolt didn't know him well enough to know if the mechling would keep his mouth shut. But there was another reason why Jolt was hesitant to send First Aid back.
Jolt was an only creation. He didn't have any siblings. And he didn't have that many friends his own age because it was hard to find suitable playmates due to the caste system. First Aid wouldn't have been his first choice—or his second or third—but he had always wanted a partner in crime. And Primus had finally granted him one. The kid was a bit…lacking, in several important depeartments. But Jolt was sure that he could turn First Aid into a worthy sidekick. He'd already seen that the mechling had potential.
"Hmmm…fine," Jolt finally said. "Just keep quiet, okay?" he turned around, not really waiting for the mechling's response. But he still caught the way First Aid's expression brightened and his helm bobbing eagerly.
"Okay," he readily agreed, following Jolt as silently as he was able. Perhaps this little play date his creator arranged wouldn't be so bad after all, Jolt mused to himself.
Autobotgirl2234: Aww, shucks...Thank you so much! :3
Author's Note: I am SOOOO sorry for leaving this story hanging for so long. I'm still in love with Jolt—he's such a little bugger :P—but gosh! Young Jolt is hard to write. I have no problem writing about events that take place after he joins the Autobots. But before? It's like banging my head against the desk.
I'm sorry you guys had to wait so long, but my muse kinda ditched me. No, that's an understatement. More like it threw me in the trunk of a car, stopped in the middle of a desert, kicked me out of the trunk, left me in the middle of a desert with nothing but the clothes on my back, and drove off cackling madly. -_-*
I know this chapter is short and I'm not quite sure if I'm satisfied with it. But I thought you guys deserved something for waiting so long. So…tada! :D
Rest assured, I AM going to finish this story *glares at muse which is currently chained to a nearby brick wall* But reviews would very much help. I also love your suggestions and questions! I'll try to work in as many as I can. :) Don't forget to reviewww! ^_^
~Hubero