Chapter 10

Saturday...

Pockets blinked up at the ceiling, trying to clear away sleep. It was finally Saturday.

No waking up at an ungodly hour. No having to rush to get dressed and fed. No having to get his little brother up, even though he didn't mind, or having to get him going. No having to wake up Demona. No having to go to that three-story piece of hell. No having to deal with scared freshman and desperate football coaches. No having to deal with a certain skinny blonde that loved grabbing his sister's ass...

He turned his head when his door pushed open with a soft creak, seconds later his little brother was climbing his way up and curling up beside him.

"...Moms not up yet," Critter whispered, "what are we gonna do today, bubba?"

"Probably stay home," Pockets answered, lowering his voice too, "I think everyone's tired."

"A nap day sounds nice..." Critter told him, drifting off. Pockets dragged the blanket over him and tucked it in around his thin legs, "Yeah, it does."

Pockets waited until he was asleep before he carefully pushed himself up and rolled out of bed. He walked out of the room after checking to make sure the younger hadn't woken up.

"Good morning," his mom said when he walked into the kitchen. She sent him a small smile, "how are you feeling?"

"Tired," he answered truthfully, "we going anywhere today?"

"Nah. Demona took me back up to the store after she got back from seeing the guys off Wednesday. We've got everything we need...unless you had plans to go somewhere?"

Pockets shook his head and reached over her head to grab some fresh muffins. She went to smack his hand but he pulled back too fast, "I'm gonna go check on sister."

And then he was out.

The dark red Charger was still, low on her wheels in her favorite little space. He could tell she was still asleep or else she would've called out or revved her engine in greeting.

So he took time to pull off his shoes before he went over in his socks, brushing his fingertips over her hood as he approached his mother's latest piece.

She had worked on it every spare minute she had. He remembered when she first started, having Demona help weld the steel frame together months ago. At first, he had had no idea what she was planning to make out of a bunch of Demona's old, broken armor, and she wasn't about to share...

But he could see it now, and he wasn't in the least disappointed.

The dragon was the size of a dog. His mom had finished bolting the thick red plates of armor on it's spine and added the head, although it could still use some work. The only thing left was to finish the tail, add wings, and work on the details.

He reached up and touched a piece of scratched armor, eyes softening as he reflected back on the battle two years ago, when they had lost Demona. He had barely known her then, compared to his mom and brother, but now he completely understood why they had been heart-broken.

He turned his eyes back to the object of his thoughts, still out cold. If we had lost her then, what would we be today?

His adopted sister gave a little startled shake when their big black German shepherd started with his thunderous barks outside.

"It's eight something in the morning," he grumbled, walking away from the sculpture and back to the door. He opened it and stuck his head out in time to see the big dog take off with a snarl, disappearing in the mounds of old vehicles that made up their yard.

Pockets sent Demona an apologetic look, "Go back to sleep, sister. I'll see what's going on."

The Charger complied with a soft rumble, easing back down tiredly.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Pockets pulled his boots back on and headed outside, calling for the dog as he went.

He followed the barks until he had worked his way to the front of their property. He reached down and put a hand on the dog's bristled man to get his attention, "Easy, boy."

The angry bellows quieted down to a rolling growl. Pocket's lifted his gaze when someone said, "Nice dog..."

His eyes widened.

...Kinda brain dead today. I rewrote this thing like ten times, still not happy with it...anyway, wonder who the new guy is...

Love to my readers.

Demona and her family and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.