Hey! I really wanted to upload this so I hope you like!
flamingmarsh: Thank you!
Panda-Manda: You're welcome. Perceptor's about sixteen, so... yeah.
blood shifter: They might. Here's your update!
Cman710: Wow, someone new. People must like my story! Thank you so much for the complement and here's chapter two!
Cheysuli-Night: You'll fine out!
Elita One: He does feel out of place... but Ratchet is there for him.
Dragowulf: Yeah!! Sequel!! You'll fine out.
mobliehomes: THANK YOU!
Chapter Two
Perceptor slowly onlined his optics, looking up to see Ratchet still in recharge. He moved to get more slightly comfortable and hoped not to wake his father up; Ratchet, unconciously and instinctively, wrapped his arms tighter around Perceptor.
"Dad... dad!" Ratchet woke, his air intake hitching, "I'm getting uncomfortable."
"Oh sorry! Here sit up." Perceptor attempted to, but something caught do to the way he was sleeping, and he fell back down.
"Ow! Dad... I think... ow!" Ratchet slid off, allowing Perceptor to fully lay down.
"Where did it hurt?"
"My neck, it was just a short tug. I'm sure it-"
"Shh, just relax... I see it, one of your wires is tight." Ratchet began to slowly massage it; Perceptor melted away and purred. Ratchet laughed, he had almost compleatly forgotten about that wire. As a sparkling, the only way to calm Perceptor down was a single wire Dragonfly had shown Ratchet. The wire, apparently, still worked.
"Perceptor, you feeling better?"
"D-dad, what... what...?"
"It's called a 'comfort wire'. Aunt 'Fly showed it to me when you were little."
"..."
"Perceptor?"
"Dad... tell me about mom." Ratchet falttered a little, but recovered quickly.
"She... she was an amazing femme... you look so much like her. She did her best to protect you when I wasn't there...," Ratchet heard Perceptor slowly go back into recharge, "She loved you so much."
...
Perceptor shifted nervously in his seat, occasionally looking at Ratchet's unemotional face. Apparently the Dean of the school had gotten wind of Perceptor's behavior and wanted to talk to Ratchet personally. Perceptor didn't know how he was going to get out of this. He didn't want Ratchet mad at him, he just... Ratchet wasn't his father, but Perceptor still wanted to have Ratchet to be proud of him.
"Dad... I... I'm-" Perceptor fell silent, Ratchet giving him a stern look. Spark clenching, Perceptor felt like sinking it to the floor when the door opened. A tall, strongly built mech stepped out; his armor was a mix color of yellow and blue, his helm a simple design. Worn out spots and dents showed how aged he was.
"Mr. Ratchet, follow me please. Perceptor, stay here."
Ratchet stood, giving a comforting squeeze on Perceptor's shoulder, and followed the Dean in. His office was simple: data pads were stacked neatly apon many surfaces and shelfs. Multiple holo-pictures, showed frozen moments of time, each one containing a warm face. The Dean sat behind his desk, Ratchet on the opposite side, and gave the medic a pircing look.
"I will get right down to it, we're not really here to talk about Perceptor's... spaciness, if you will. That's part, but I'm starting to worry about him."
Ratchet was stunned. "H-his grades are fine. He's just haveing a hard time right now."
"Test, experiments, grades... yes, he's doing fine at that. But he's not social, I'm happy that he doesn't talk in class but he barily talks at all! I'm also hearing that he has bee able to access information that takes even the most trained professional vorns to crack; he does it in 15 nano-clicks. And it's not the normal things most younglings look at, they're personal data files. He searches for clicks on end, as if he's looking for one little thing," the Dean leaned across his desk, "Is there something you're hiding from him? He's your son, you should-"
"Adopted."
"Excuse me?"
"Perceptor's my adopted son. I'm not his creator. He lost his mother when he was a sparkling."
"What about the father."
"Still alive, but in hiding."
"Why not tell Perceptor? He obviously knows that you're not his father. It's eating him inside not knowing anything."
"I... I can't! His father told me to never tell him, to even say that he was deactivated."
"Any reason?"
"I can't say sir... personal reasons." Ratchet allowed this to be a vague but good enough reason.
Perceptor's mother actually died by the hands of the Black League, a horrible group of mechs lead by an even more horrible mech, Avon. In need of a field disruptor, Avon kiddnapped Perceptor, torturing him until his father agreed to build it. Thankfully, Ratchet and Perceptor were saved by the Autobot and the Black League's base was burnt down. Avon, unfortunatly, was never found.
The Dean sighed.
"You need to talk to him. Connect with him on some level, let him know that... you are his father no matter what."
...
Perceptor relaxed slightly from his father's gentle pressure, but it dissappeared when the door closed. He began to twitch, focusing strait ahead, lost in thought, and didn't notice another mech sit next to him.
"Hey... you okay?"
Perceptor jumpped and snapped his attention towards the mech. He was silver with three different colored strips on his chest. The bottom half of his face plate was covered with a slited mask, 'fin' structures stuck out on either of his head that lit up when he talked.
"Whoa, sorry! Didn't mean to scare you. You just looked kind of worried, just wondering if you were okay."
"I... I..." Perceptor buried his face in his hands, "I don't know! I've dazed off and my dad's in there and I don't want to upset him because he's my dad but he might not even be my dad and I... I don't know."
"Whoa, whoa, hey! Calm down! You daze, no big deal, who dosen't! I'm sure your dad will understand."
"But, he might not be my dad. What about that?"
"And? Does he loves you, supports you, and comforts you. Does he listens to your problems and understands you as best he can," Perceptor nodded, "Creator or not, he sounds like a father to me."
"I... I guess... Do I know you?"
"Wha- oh no, I'm new here, just transfered. I came to sign up for classes."
"Oh well," Perceptor held a hand out to shake, "my name's Perceptor."
"Wheeljack," he gripped the outstreached hand and shook, "Wait did you say Perceptor? I was your name on a science award coming in! You're also top in the class! I was forth at my last school, I'll have to work hard to catch up with you."
"Good luck with that!" Perceptor laughed.
The door opened and Ratchet stepped out following by the Dean. Perceptor tenced up, but relaxed when Wheeljack placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Come on Perceptor, lets go home."
"Wait, I'm not in trouble?" Ratchet looked at the Dean.
"No," he said, "you're not in trouble. Just try to pay better attention in class."
"Yes sir," Perceptor turned to Wheeljack, "Um... see you later?"
"Yeah of course, oh, and try to relax." he followed the Dean while Perceptor went with Ratchet.
"So, who was that?" asked Ratchet.
"Oh, um, a new student. His name is Wheeljack." Perceptor smiled. Ratchet spark lifted; maybe this mech would bring Perceptor out of his shell.
"You hungry?" Perceptor nodded, "Come on lets eat."
...
Perceptor, for the first time in a long time, felt really happy. He wasn't in trouble, his father wasn't mad, he was eatting ic cream, and... he might have made a friend. Optics turned off in total bliss, Perceptor's glossa lapped up the treat making feel like a sparkling again.
Ratchet watched, his spark feeling light seeing his son happy. He took a sip of his drink, looking around at the moving crowd. His optics stopped a red battle-worn mech, reading a data pad but would occationally look at Perceptor. The mech saw Ratchet looking at him and nodded. Ratchet smiled as Ironhide returned to his data pad. Knowing Perceptor would notice if Jazz and Prowl followed him around all the time, Ironhide would drop in periodically to check on things.
"Dad, what are you staring at?"
"Wha- nothing, um..." Perceptor's face was covered with the sticky substance, reminding Ratchet when Perceptor was a spakling; he laughed, unable to hold it in, making Perceptor stare.
...
Ratchet's spark was beating faster than usual. He was taking the Dean's advice; he was going to try and connect with Perceptor on some level, hopefully opening him up a bit more to Ratchet.
"Perceptor, could you come in here a moment." Walking in, Perceptor saw his dad sitting with a somber look on his face.
"Dad, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing big, I just want to talk to you about something. No, you're not in trouble, I just want to talk." Perceptor sat down eyeing Ratchet curiously; he breathed heavily and began.
"You might not remember, you were half in recharge, but last night you asked your mother," Perceptor nodded, "I... I only knew her for a short time, but I know she loved you. I... this is the only thing I have of her and... I think you need it."
Ratchet picked up a small device called a holo-picture and handed it to Perceptor. He turned it over a few time then turned it on. He gasped when a small figure of a femme flickered on. He looked up at Ratchet.
"This... this is... my mother?" Ratchet nodded, "...she's beautiful..."
Ratchet suddenly had Perceptor giving him a death grip; the holo-picture clattered to the floor. Ratchet smiled, rubbing Perceptor's back as tears streamed down the younglings face.