Hello again, all. Got a nice, long chapter hot and ready for you. Who's ready for some uncle/foster kid bonding?

Simple Acts

My World Ends With Me

And I'm gonna say what I need to say

And hope to God that it don't scare you away

Don't want to be misunderstood

But I'm starting to believe that

This could be the start of something good

"Start of Something Good" - Daughtry

xxXxx

Smokescreen squirmed in his seat, eyes flickering around the walls and ceiling of the youth sector's too-small main office. Cramped spaces had never been his favorite things in the world; he preferred having lots of room to move around how he wanted. Small rooms like this made him feel confined and uncomfortable. All the more reason to get this over with quickly so he and Johnny could start their day out.

Across from the desk in front of him sat an amused-looking green Autobot – Crosshairs, the mech in charge of the place. Smokescreen wasn't familiar with him, although the name rang a bell or two; perhaps he'd read about him in wartime reports or somewhere like that. "Feeling a little nervous, buddy?" Crosshairs laughed. "We've only your kid for a week. I promise nothing's happened to him that quickly."

"Well, I miss him," Smokescreen said. "And the paperwork's kicking my skidplate, so I could use having him around for a day. I'm taking him out to meet my bros."

"Meet the family. Not bad," Crosshairs nodded approvingly.

"Anything I oughta know before I take Johnny off your hands for a while?"

Crosshairs pulled out a datafile and tapped it a couple of times before replying. "Not much, really. We haven't had him long enough to spot any huge problems – ones that he and Magnus haven't told me about already, anyway. He just kinda spends a lot of time on his own, away from the other kids. Usually he just listens to music and plays games, stuff like that. Sometimes somebody catches him writing something."

Smokescreen raised an eyeridge. "What kind of something?"

Crosshairs shrugged. "Beats me. He won't show anybody. Anyway, when he does interact with others, it's almost always because they approached him first and invited him over. Even then, he doesn't talk much. Mostly he just listens and contributes every now and then."

So he was more an observer than a participant, Smokescreen noted. He could understand and respect that, although he certainly hoped that Johnny would come out of his shell sometime. He'd have a hard time meeting people otherwise. "How does he get along with people?" He asked.

"Not poorly, if that's what you're asking," replied the green Autobot. "Johnny can hold a conversation if he wants to, he just doesn't." Suddenly, Crosshairs' expression darkened slightly. "Actually, that reminds me – there is one problem. Some of the other kids have been picking on him for how he talks. You said he's aphasic?" He paused for Smokescreen to confirm it. "There are a few others who make fun of him for it. He's significantly more withdrawn whenever they're around. We've been trying to keep them apart."

"Yeah, do that," Smokescreen said grimly, feeling his teeth grit and his mouth curl up in contempt. He felt the anger rise and managed to fight it down. There would be no point in making a scene here. "Anything else I should know?"

"A few things – don't worry, it's not all bad," Crosshairs assured him. "Johnny tends to wake up screaming in the middle of the night. He says it's just because he's not used to waking up and not knowing where he is, but between you and me, I think he also has nightmares and he's too afraid to tell anybody. I know a few therapists I can tell you about if you're interested."

Smokescreen nodded silently. Having Johnny see a therapist would probably be a little expensive, but if it could help...

"His migraines have still been acting up," Crosshairs continued. "Maybe a couple of times every few days. He's been asked to keep us informed as to their happenings, and so far he's been cooperative. He's been making sure to take his medicine as well when he needs it.

"He's also a little naive when it comes to other people. He doesn't always realize when people are lying to him or teasing him. But even so, Johnny's a compassionate boy, and very smart. I've personally seen him helping other children with homework – mostly younger ones, but a few his age and some even older."

The mech set the datafile down and looked Smokescreen in the optics. "He cares about others a lot. He just has a hard time talking to them, making that first contact. Build up his confidence, help him find ways he can meet new people, and I think he'll perform really well. You found a good kid to take in, Smokescreen."

The younger Autobot was beaming by that point. Primus be damned, he was proud of Johnny. All things considered, it sounded like he was doing really well so far. That was a great first step. "Sounds good. Anything else I should know?" He asked, and Crosshairs shook his head in the negative. "Awesome! In that case, it's time Johnny and I hit the road. I promised my brothers we'd meet 'em for lunch."

Smokescreen waved goodbye and ducked out of the office. Johnny, as expected, was sitting on the bench just outside, waiting for him. "So, it went well?" The boy asked.

The Autobot made a so-so motion with one of his servos. "Some good, some bad. Come on, we can talk about it on the way."

As they made their way side-by-side to the entrance to the youth exterior, Smokescreen noticed Johnny lowering his eyes to the ground timidly and thought back to what Crosshairs had told him. Kids were making fun of Johnny. Because he talked differently. Because his pitspawn uncle had brained him when he was eight years old. Had he spotted one of those kids just now? Was that why he wouldn't raise his head?

It made Smokescreen sick. No part of Johnny was worth ridiculing, worth treating him any differently for it. That was why he'd never bothered mentioning the boy's speech impairment to his face. Of course he'd noticed it – it would have been hard not to – but Johnny deserved better than to have it dangled over him all the time. He still did.

Smokescreen pushed the exit door open and he and the kid stepped out into the cool November air. "Hey... you've been quiet for, quiet for a while," Johnny spoke up suddenly. "I don't like it. Is... everything okay, Smokescreen?"

The Autobot opened his mouth to reply, then forced himself to stop and ventilate. No, he wouldn't lose control with Johnny around. He might get a chance to do so later, but this kid didn't deserve that treatment, no matter how angry he was. Instead, he slowly transformed back down into his car mode and popped the door open. "Hop in, buddy. Let's talk," he said, unable to keep a tinge of grimness out of his voice.

Johnny looked surprised and a little worried at his friend's seriousness. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it before, but Smokescreen was usually so cheerful and energetic that he still wasn't used to anything different. The young man suspected that it had something to do with himself – it seemed he was always at the heart of Smokescreen's rare moments of sobriety.

Nonetheless, he slid into the 'Bot's passenger seat, and they took off. It wasn't until they were on the road that Smokescreen spoke again. "How long have those kids been bullying you?" He asked. No way he was letting today end without an answer.

His ward looked at him in surprise, then came to an understanding. "How – oh, right. Mr. Crosshairs told you," he muttered.

"How'd you know that?"

Johnny shrugged. "I think you two, were talking louder than you realize," he replied. "I heard everything."

"Then I'm sure you can figure out what else I'll want to talk to you about," Smokescreen said. "But back to the point – how long, Johnny?"

Johnny looked down into his lap, focusing on his hands. "About – about the first or... or second day I was here," he admitted. "The night I came here, they, uh, called everybody down and asked, me to introduce myself. A few people mentioned my, my speaking, but only a few of – only a few of them have been mean about it."

"But it's been going on ever since you got here," Smokescreen stated.

Johnny nodded. "It's only a few of them, but..." His voice petered out, and he brushed above his left ear once again.

The action screamed 'Danger' to Smokescreen. "But what?" His tone was nothing short of steely.

"Smokey..." Johnny whined.

"But. What?"

Johnny exhaled through his teeth. He hated it when people where angry with him. It always made him feel like he was being blamed for something. "When, when you were talking, uh, to Mr. Crosshairs, they – they found me waiting, outside. They told me... to get out and not, not come back."

The boy was thrust back into his seat as his friend's engine suddenly and loudly revved, sending them both surging forward. Thankfully, no one else was in front of them, and Smokescreen had the presence of mind to make himself slow down. Johnny felt like he should try to say something, but Smokescreen cut in the instant he opened his mouth.

"Don't you dare tell me not to get mad about this, Johnny," he growled. Those little fraggers! How could they sleep knowing they were treating his kid that way?!

"Smokey, you're scaring me." Johnny's frightened whimper brought the Autobot back down to earth like a hard shot to the chest. Scrap, he couldn't afford to explode, not at Johnny. The kid needed kindness, stability, and Smokescreen had to prove that he could provide that. Coming undone would only hurt his case, no matter how enticing the idea was at the time.

With notable effort, Smokescreen forced himself to cool off some – although he made a mental note to visit the shooting range downtown sometime and blow off as much steam as he could. "Johnny, I'm not just going to sit back and listen to stories of you getting picked on," the Autobot said, his voice still low with anger. "If I'm gonna be your foster dad, I'm gonna do it right, and that means no sitting on my servos while some punks are busy shoving you around. If you have a problem with anybody, tell me about it ASAP. Promise me that."

Johnny was stunned. This was all still so new to him, having somebody around that he could confess his problems to whenever he needed that release. He'd always needed to be able to do that, he understood that now, but to see Smokescreen so angry at what was going on with the other kids was disconcerting and... strangely comforting. It was something to get used to, of course.

So Johnny nodded his head slightly. "I promise," he said plainly. "Now, can we please, talk about something else?"

"Gladly," Smokescreen replied, grateful for the change in conversation. "I hear you've been helping out some of the other youth sector kids with their homework."

"Every now and then, yeah," Johnny shrugged. "It's just... I have to do, do something, and it seemed like an – okay idea. Is that alright?"

"You bet it's alright!" Smokescreen declared happily. "What kind of person wouldn't a kid who's smart and a nice guy? Besides, you gotta get out there and let people know about you, so why not help them out? It's a great thing, Johnnytron." The 'Bot was gushing by this point, but he didn't care. His kid was worth gushing about.

Johnny was pleased that he'd made Smokescreen so happy. It just felt right. "So, uh, where are we going?" He asked.

"The Apastron Mall in downtown Iacon," came the reply. "It's huge, and Blue and Prowler said they'd meet us there. You guys are gonna get to know each other and have some fun, and then we're all gonna help you pick out what kind of stuff you'll want in your room once you move in with me and Bulk.

"Between you and me, I wanted to just stop at the 'having fun' part, but Prowl insisted we get some actual, meaningful work done today." He scoffed. "Like spending a day out with my new kid isn't meaningful!"

But Johnny was a little busy being hung up on something Smokescreen had just said. "I can... pick out what, what I want?" He asked, as though the concept were foreign to him. "Is that okay? It'll cost a – cost a lot of-"

"Johnny, I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't want to do it," the robot cut him off, speaking in consoling tones. "I'm not totally strapped for credits, and Bluestreak and Prowl said they'd pitch in a little bit and like Pit this isn't something worth spending money on. I want you to be happy living with us, Johnny. For now, that means letting you have the room you want. So don't worry so much about me. I'll be more than fine."

The young man opened his mouth to reply, but words failed him and he simply nodded in assent. "What about Bulkhead? He won't be there?"

"Nah, he's been busy for a while. He's just finishing up a big project," Smokescreen explained. At the confused look on Johnny's face, he elaborated further. "Bulk's a laborer. A construction bot – he builds stuff like buildings. He's been working on some new thing somewhere in Iacon for a while and it's hit the home stretch, so he's been working a lot recently. You probably won't get to meet him for a couple more weeks or so – somewhere around the end of your days in the youth sector."

That suited Johnny fine. Too many new people at once would be overwhelming, no matter how good their intentions were. Today, he'd meet Smokescreen's brothers, and Bulkhead would come some other time. One step after another.

"Speaking of the youth sector..." Smokescreen started. Somehow, from the tone of his voice, Johnny could imagine the Autobot flashing him a wry grin. "Crosshairs says you've been writing stuff these days. Care to let me in on that?"

Johnny saw the two 'Bots standing around in the parking lot before Smokescreen honked for their attention. One of them was ambling about aimlessly, servos behind their head – that was Bluestreak, Johnny realized – but the other robot was one that the boy had never met before. Tall and slender, with door wings similar to those of Smokescreen and Bluestreak and a severe expression on his face that showed no signs of budging.

It could only have been Prowl. The 'Bot looked identical to the picture Magnus had shown Johnny before. The butterflies in Johnny's belly began to act up once more.

"We're here, buddy. Try to have some fun, okay?" Smokescreen said to Johnny as he slid into an open space and came to a stop. He allowed the boy to slide out before shifting back into his robot mode and waving his brothers over. "Hey, guys! We keep you waiting long?"

"Yeah, for about ten minutes," Bluestreak ribbed. "You can expect us to hold that over your head for a while, by the by."

"Oh, come on, Blue. It wasn't that bad," Smokescreen smirked, folding his arms across his chest. "Besides, you're a sniper. Aren't people like you supposed to be patient?"

"Was a sniper, little brother. Now I'm a racer, and racers go fast." Bluestreak wagged a finger at his younger brother in a scolding way. "Besides, it was a very long and boring ten minutes. I almost had to talk to Prowl, that's how boring it was." He stated this slowly and with great emphasis, as though it was a horrifying possibility.

Johnny, meanwhile, watched the spectacle with some interest. The way the two of them traded jokes and took shots at each other without so much as a hint of malice... He'd seen that kind of relationship before in other people; plenty of his classmates seemed to treat each other that way, as did Leo and Val – the two practically lived in competition with each other. However, he'd never been so lucky as to have somebody that he could engage with in that way. Maybe some day.

Prowl, on the other hand, had apparently decided that enough was enough. "I assure you, Bluestreak, that speaking to you is far from my idea of a good time as well," he said, sounding absolutely deadpan in the process. His voice was composed and deep, more so than either Bluestreak's or Smokescreen's. It made him sound much more mature than the other two – perhaps he was the eldest?

Prowl turned to Smokescreen. "Now then, is Johnny here?"

"Yeah, I see him. He's right there," Bluestreak answered for him, pointing to the human standing slightly behind Smokescreen's leg. He strode over and knelt down in front of Johnny with a smile on his face. "Hey, kiddo. Great to see you again. I'm sure you remember me pretty well? Good ol' Bluestreak?" He put a hand next to his mouth in a mock attempt to block the sound before continuing. "By the way, if you ever want to call me 'Uncle,' that's totally fi-"

"Bluestreak, that's enough," Prowl scolded him with a light knock on the shoulder. The chastised Autobot pouted but retreated, allowing his brother to take his place in front of Johnny. "So, I take it you're the youngling that has my brother obsessed with becoming a foster parent?" The question came upfront and without any pretense to it. Johnny could only nod in response.

To his shock and immense relief, Prowl's stern visage was interrupted by a small but genuine smile. "It's very nice to have the chance to meet you, Johnny. Smokescreen has told me some good things about you, and I'm excited to meet you for myself."

"Uh... you too," Johnny replied. "Wait, hang on. What kind of things?"

"Mainly that you're an intelligent young man with a good heart and a poor track record when it comes to family," Prowl answered. "Nothing overly damning, I assure you."

"And most importantly, that you're the kind of kid that the universe really needs to cut some slack," Bluestreak chimed in sourly. "But that's why we're all here. Until the universe gets its scrap together, we're gonna do the cutting ourselves. If you'll have us, of course."

Johnny shot a quick glance to Smokescreen for reassurance, and receiving a friendly wink in return felt his doubts and confusion fade away. Smokescreen felt he could trust these people, and Johnny trusted Smokescreen. "I'd like – like that, thanks," the boy said firmly. It was just as well. Johnny really wanted to trust these two anyway. He hadn't known either of them for long, especially not Prowl, but they seemed like genuinely good people.

"Awesome! 'Cause with any luck, you'll be seeing a lot of me and Prowler here in the future!" Bluestreak cheered, smacking a perturbed Prowl on the back. "Smokey's not the only one who wants to lend a hand. You're one of us now, Johnny, and we look out for our own. Remember that."

"I promise," Johnny nodded, a little overwhelmed by all the affection that he was already getting. But it was a good kind of overwhelmed, one he wished that he could feel more. "So what's the, plan for today, exactly?" He asked.

"It's about noon now. Would you be averse to starting with lunch?" Prowl suggested. "There are a number of restaurants here that I'm sure you would enjoy."

"And then we're gonna have some fun!" Bluestreak pumped his fists into the air excitedly. "Well, and find stuff for your new home – but mostly fun! There's a movie theater in there somewhere, an arcade, the works." The racer gestured toward the massive sprawling building behind him – the Apastron Mall. Johnny could hardly fathom the size of it. His brain simply couldn't register the notion that buildings could be that huge. Logically, of course, it made sense; it had to be big, to service both human and Cybertronians. But that didn't detract any from the spectacle.

Smokescreen took note of the stupefied look on his ward's face and laughed heartily. "See what you've been missing all these years, little man? There's plenty more great stuff on this planet. Stuff you just can't see when you're stuck in the residential sector. And I'm gonna help you see it all." The Autobot's voice grew gentle and ever more sincere as he looked down upon his young charge. "I promise, Johnnytron. I'll show you the whole world someday."

And somehow, Johnny didn't doubt that in the slightest.

They'd ultimately defaulted to the food court. It had been just nearby when they went in, and it was varied enough that Johnny would have plenty of choices for a meal. It even had Cybertronian restaurants, where the robots could buy energon of various flavorings as well as other edible goodies. It may not have been a fancy restaurant, but none of the four had ever claimed to be the fancy type.

As Johnny munched on his chicken and fries, he took stock of the chaos around him. It was loud there in the food court, with all of the people having their own independent conversations, and while Johnny wasn't unaccustomed to loud noises he preferred to avoid them. They reminded him a little too much of his uncle.

It wasn't debilitating or anything, though. As long as there was no angry yelling of any sort, Johnny would be capable of adjusting.

But more than the noise, what really struck Johnny was the diversity of the crowds. He was largely used to seeing a lot of humans in his daily activities – not that he was prejudiced against Cybertronians, but most of his acquaintances were human. Josh, the Velgers, Abigail, Terry... Johnny didn't meet and remember a whole lot of Cybertronians. It simply never worked out that way.

Around and outside of the court, however, were Cybertronians and humans of many different sizes, frames, colors, and so forth. Some of them walked on their own, and some moved in groups small and large. Johnny was fairly certain that he saw a few couples as well, both single-species and mixed. He'd never seen any Cybertronian-human couples in person before, although he certainly knew that they existed in moderate abundance.

The whole experience was simple, yet so eye-opening. Before then, Johnny had never realized just how profoundly little of the world he'd seen, even after sixteen years of life. It was frightening to think that he still had so much to discover. But maybe a little at a time would make it alright.

Smokescreen downed his energon in one long gulp and slammed the empty cube down onto the table, rousing Johnny from his thoughts. "Whoo, that was good!" The Autobot breathed, shaking his helm with a fervor. "How're you guys doing?" He looked over to his brothers, both of whom were still drinking from their cubes. Bluestreak had gotten some kind of flavoring in his – it was purple rather than electric blue – and was coming along further than Prowl, who seemed content with sipping his drink leisurely. Johnny, meanwhile, was still making headway on his basket of food.

"From the looks of it..." Bluestreak began casually, referring to himself, Prowl, and Johnny in that order. "Almost done, taking his time, a ways to go." He respectively pointed to each person as he spoke.

Johnny looked a little sheepish. "Yeah, I've got a, uh, lot left," he admitted. It was, after all, a big basket, although he was nearing the halfway point with it.

"I hope you realize that there's no need to force yourself to eat all of that now, Johnny. You can take your leftovers with you when you're done." Prowl said, casting a sidelong look at his youngest brother, who'd ordered so much food to begin with.

Now it was Smokescreen's turn to look embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry about that, buddy. I got kind of excited."

The human shrugged in a 'no-harm-done' kind of way. "I'm almost finished, anyway." He looked up at the three Cybertronians gathered around him. "Where are we... we going next?"

"Well, what do you wanna do?" Bluestreak asked. "This is your fun day, kiddo. Wouldn't be right if you didn't get some say in it."

"We could catch a movie," Smokescreen offered. "I know there's a theater in here somewhere. Or we could hit the arcade – they've got these virtual reality systems that you wouldn't believe. Uh, there's a mini golf course on this level, or-"

"Smokescreen," Prowl cut him off sternly. "Don't give Johnny so many ideas at once. You'll overwhelm him."

"No, I'm fine," Johnny chuckled, although on the inside he was feeling a bit swamped from all of the options. He doubted he'd ever tried half of the attractions that this mall had to offer. He'd never be able to make a choice without some guidance. "I just... need a list, or – or something."

Prowl quickly pulled out a datapad and tapped on it, servos ablur from his pace, before sliding it across the table to the young man. "Here is a list of attractions you can choose from. Just slide your finger up and down to make it scroll."

"And take your time. Seriously, bud." That last part came courtesy of Bluestreak.

Johnny looked down at the datapad – it was too big to physically pick up – and began to slowly scan its contents. He realized quickly that Smokescreen hadn't been kidding when he'd said that the Apastron Mall had the works; there was a movie theater with surround sound and 3D, a giant-sized LEGO store, a mini golf course and funhouse, an arcade boasting state-of-the-art virtual reality systems, and a ton of smaller stores between.

No wonder there were so many people here. With this much to do, you'd barely ever have to leave! The sheer volume of choices honestly made Johnny nervous – how could he choose if there were so many possibilities?

"Let's see..." he started slowly, eyes flickering upward toward Smokescreen and his brothers every few seconds. The boy couldn't help but feel as though he was holding them up, even if they'd instructed him to take it at his own pace. "Mini golf looks fun... not really in a, movie mood today... maybe the arcade..." He continued on at a leisurely pace as Prowl, unbeknownst to him, internally recorded all of his suggestions for later referral.

Suddenly, Johnny stopped scrolling, and the absence of movement didn't go unnoticed by the three Cybertronians. "What's up, Johnny?" Bluestreak asked. "You see a place you'd like to hit?"

"There's a music store," Johnny answered simply, lips curling up into an excited smile. Thank God – or Primus, or whoever. Something familiar! And it was something he loved so much. He wouldn't mind giving any of the other places a try, but it was nice having such a reliable and well-loved fallback as well.

Bluestreak just looked slightly deflated. "Really? The biggest mall in Iacon and a music store is your takeaway? Some people..." He muttered softly.

"An interesting choice, Johnny," Prowl commented, paying no mind to Bluestreak's jests. "Not many people I know would take such interest in an art like that. Do you only listen to music, or do you play as well?"

"I own a guitar," Johnny replied.

"And you sing!" Smokescreen chimed in. "Not a whole lot, but I think you've got a pretty good voice."

"But what about the arcade?" Bluestreak whined. "Or the golf course? Don't you wanna see any of the fun stuff, too?"

"Sure, just not yet," Johnny said. He was pretty sure Bluestreak was only pretending to be upset, which was good because it made sticking by his choice much more easy. "I'd just rather... start at the music store, that's all. Is that okay?"

"Well..." Bluestreak pretended to ponder it before smiling. "I guess it couldn't hurt. Might find something worth the time there."

"Then we've got our game plan!" Smokescreen exulted, rising to his feet. He grabbed both of his brothers' empty energon cubes and ran them swiftly to the recycler, then made his way back with a box for Johnny's leftovers.

Prowl sighed. "Need I even remind you that we've yet to account for getting what we need for Johnny's room? It's only a matter of time before your training ends, and they'll be expecting you to have a suitable place for him to stay. Bluestreak and I don't have enough time to accompany you out like this on a frequent basis, you know." He sounded disapproving – perhaps not entirely unfairly.

"Hey, we'll get around to it, I promise," Smokescreen replied defensively. "But today's supposed to be fun, too. If everything goes to plan, you and Johnny are gonna be seeing a lot of each other. Best he gets to know you two now, and if he has fun doing it, even better. Trust me, I got the whole responsibility lecture from you and Magnus. I don't want to have to hear it a third time."

Prowl was silent for a time as he processed this, but sighed in acceptance in the end. "I'll be holding you to that, younger brother. In the meantime, are you ready to leave, Johnny?" He turned and directed the question to the human, who was just finishing up cramming his leftovers into the box he'd been given. It was a tight fit, but he'd probably be able to get another meal or two out of it. "Yeah. We're going?" The boy asked.

"You know it," Smokescreen nodded. As Johnny walked out of his seat and toward him, the Autobot lowered his hand to the ground in front of the human. "Here, hop on, I'll carry you. No way I'm risking you getting trampled by these crowds." The young man climbed on without protest, and Smokescreen lifted him to his shoulder where Johnny disembarked and sat down, gripping his keeper's neck cables for stability. "I'm ready," Johnny spoke once he was sure he wasn't about to fall off anytime soon.

"Then let's get going. We've got a busy day to cover!" Smokescreen said, leading the way with his head held high.

His triumphant mood lasted all of ten seconds before he had to turn back and ask Prowl for directions, but the young Autobot took it in stride. No one said he had to get everything perfect right away.

The instant they were in the music store and Smokescreen had set him down, Johnny was off like a streak of light. Like most every other store in the mall, it was gigantic, filled from corner to corner with shelves of CD's in every genre, method books, and instruments and the supplies needed to maintain them.

In other words, Johnny's perfect definition of a happy place.

The young man weaved through the aisles as if he knew them by heart, scanning eagerly whatever he could set his eyes upon. He wondered if he could convince Smokescreen or his brothers to buy him a CD or two while they were there – there were quite a few out for sale that he wouldn't have minded owning. He didn't need to buy anything for his guitar – the strings were still in fine condition, and he had backups and extra picks if he needed them – but maybe he could get a method book as well. He could never have too many of those.

Picking out a couple of CD's – one modern rock, one classic rock – and holding them gently by his side, Johnny walked over to a nearby kiosk. A pair of headphones dangled from a holder jutting out of the front, and the touch screen boasted images of a number of recent albums from the past few months. Johnny slid the headphones on and searched the selection of music until he found a recording by a rock band he enjoyed. Pressing play, he closed his eyes and allowed the music to flow through him. The rapid guitar line sent electric sparks through his entire body. His heartbeat synchronized with the drums. The lyrics started a warm glow within his chest.

That was why Johnny loved music so much. Because it made him feel more than anything else he'd ever experienced. It shattered his doubts and the darkness in his mind and made him feel so much stronger than he truly was. Even if it was an illusion, and a fleeting one at that, Johnny loved that feeling of serenity that music provided him.

Sadly, his carefree reverie crumbled at the feeling of a forceful and insistent tapping on his shoulder. Johnny turned around to see a stoic-looking man with silver hair and eyes, clad in white shirt, long black pants, and silver jacket with a dark gold star on the front.

"Oh, uh, sorry. Did you, did you want a turn, mister?" Johnny apologized, pulling off the headphones and offering them to the man.

"It's me, Johnny," the man spoke in Prowl's voice. He jerked his head to the side, where Prowl stood out of the way of the other customers. The man was merely his holoform. "Don't run off like that. You could get hurt if we're not around to watch you." His voice was clipped and disapproving, and made Johnny feel small.

Johnny's gut shriveled, and his gaze fell back down to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He hadn't meant to cause any trouble; he'd just been so excited that he'd lost track of himself. Thankfully, Prowl seemed to realize that, as his face became a little less hardened. "I realize that you're used to operating on your own, Johnny," Prowl began, trying to sound understanding – not that he wasn't entirely. "But my brother is taking you under his roof so that you no longer have to be on your own. And in some cases, such as this one, that means you can't go off by yourself without our permission."

"Sorry," Johnny repeated. He looked and sounded deeply forlorn – possibly on the verge of tears. Prowl knew then to back off; Johnny had learned his lesson, he was repentant. Letting him break down further would be cruel. So Prowl's holoform put on a warm smile and tilted the boy's head up gently with the side of a finger. "You seem to hold a great love for music, Johnny," the Autobot observed. "Why is that?"

A look of passionate excitement lit up Johnny's face, and Prowl could tell his mood was improving already. "It makes me feel good, inside," the boy said, with the warmth of a child evident in his voice. "It's quiet and lonely, lonely at my house, but when I put on some music it feels, um, feels like there's a lot more, there that wasn't there before. People, places, feelings... Does that make any sense?"

The holoform nodded silently, enjoying the sight of the boy opening up.

"And – and it's fun, to listen and to play it. It's like I'm creating something – something that wasn't there before, and that's such a great, great feeling. I..." He stopped suddenly and frowned. "Um, I'm sorry," he muttered.

Now Prowl was deeply confused. He frowned. "Why would you be sorry? You've done nothing wrong."

"But I..." Johnny stopped and exhaled in frustration. "My voice – I know it sounds strange. All broken and fractured. I just don't, I just don't want to annoy you with it."

"No." It was an immediate response, firm with a slight edge to it. The hairs on the young man's neck stood on end at the sound of it, and at the holoform's look of tempered anger. Prowl gripped Johnny's shoulders solidly, but spoke with a surprisingly soft and tender tone. "There is nothing wrong with your voice, Johnny. I think it sounds wonderful."

Prowl's words were the rough verbal equivalent of a smack in the face to Johnny. Nobody had... had ever told him that he even sounded good, let alone wonderful. Most people either mentioned his way of speaking in passing or left the conversation entirely because of it, if they even brought it up at all. A few said that it didn't matter, but that was always the best reception Johnny had received until now.

Johnny wiped away a tear and smiled brightly. "Thank you, Prowl. You really aren't as bad, as Smokey made you out to be."

Perhaps it was a testament to Prowl's character that his holoform's smile didn't waver in the slightest when he heard that. Not that he wasn't sorely tempted. "Is that so? Well then, what sort of things did my brother tell you?"

Johnny shrugged, not quite getting the vibe that the robot was giving off. "He said you were, a stick in the mud," he said plainly. "Not a bad person, but humorless, kinda cold. I was – was actually really scared to meet you after what he told me." The boy chuckled sheepishly. "I'm glad you're... not really that bad, Prowl."

Prowl's spark was warmed, even as he made a mental note to have a certain discussion with Smokescreen when the two of them were next alone. It couldn't hurt to be thorough. "My brother was hardly wrong, Johnny. I'm a serious mech," the mech in question spoke. "And I can indeed be quite frigid when the moment requires it. But I try hard not to act in that manner when I have no reason to do so. Please remember that, Johnny, the next time either one of my siblings tries to fill your mind with misinformation about me."

And then, bringing to mind a certain idiom about the devil appearing from nowhere, Smokescreen and Bluestreak strode up to the two. "Hey, guys! 'Bout time we came across you!" Smokescreen waved merrily. "Seriously, I can't believe this place is all for music. It's huge!"

"And very strange. Does your species really need this much space just to sell stored, processed noise?" Bluestreak asked. "No offense or anything, it just doesn't seem like a very fair trade to me."

At the deeply confused (and possibly somewhat offended) look on Johnny's face, Prowl took the moment to explain. "Music and the arts in general were never a major part of Cybertronian culture before the war, Johnny. The caste system largely forbade such endeavors. This-" He beckoned to the area around them. "-is a very human concept – familiar to your species, but quite alien to ours. Not that it's unwelcome or anything."

That... actually made some sense when Johnny thought about it. He didn't know a whole lot about Cybertron pre-war, but he'd definitely heard about the Functionist caste system. Your most natural altmode determined your life until the day you offlined. All dissenters were prosecuted, and the lucky ones were jailed while the unluckier ones went to meet Primus early.

It certainly went some length to explain why the store's present patrons were almost entirely humans – maybe Cybertronians had yet to fully understand and appreciate music. Or maybe they'd just come on a bad day. Whatever.

"Ooh, is that why Prowler's gone holoform?" Bluestreak asked, pointing down to the still-present projection of his brother. "To get a sample of what humans have to offer with this stuff?"

Before Johnny could explain, Prowl cut in. "That's correct. It was... surprisingly enjoyable." He flashed a secretive smile to his companion as his holoform dissipated; it was a quiet reminder of the chat he and Johnny had shared.

Smokescreen took notice of the CD's in Johnny's hand. "Hey, looks like you found something. You wanna buy those? My treat."

It took the boy a moment to realize what Smokescreen was talking about. "Oh, right! Yeah, I'd, I'd like that. Please."

"Right this way, then." The foursome made their way to the front of the store to buy Johnny's new souvenirs.

Bluestreak couldn't have been happier. "Primus, we're finally done here! Come on, I wanna see the arcade!"

Hours later, after the Cybertronians and their new human had finally gotten around to their shopping and had dinner, it was time to leave. They were all quite satisfied with their progress for the day, although none more so than Smokescreen. He'd secretly been worried that the stores would turn out to be lacking in what they sought, but those fears had proven to be immature, for they'd had no trouble whatsoever finding the furnishings that Johnny had requested for his new bedroom. They'd gotten a dresser for the boy's clothes, a bunch of bookshelves for any of the books that Johnny wished to carry over, and decided, after a great deal of debate, what color to paint the walls (dark blue, which suited Johnny fine, as he'd been sleeping in a cream-colored room for years and was ready for a change of scenery).

They'd even gotten some brightly colored bedsheets for Johnny to sleep in, although the young man had elected to move his old bed into his new place rather than buy a new one. He'd claimed that he was too used to sleeping in it to just stop. It was one of the only big things that Johnny had chosen to take with him when he moved in with Smokescreen and Bulkhead.

Which was just as well, honestly. While the two Autobots didn't entertain human guests as often as, say, Ultra Magnus, they weren't unfamiliar to the experience. Bulkhead and Miko still kept in close contact, and as she lived on Cybertron as well the two of them met up every now and then.

Sometimes that would entail the former rocker coming over for the day to shoot the breeze with her favorite Wrecker, and occasionally she'd bring her kids over. So Smokescreen and Bulkhead had long ago taken the liberty of purchasing some human-sized furniture: couches, a table, and so forth. They'd also had a few guest rooms built in, and Johnny would be taking over one of them – maybe even for good.

Compared to those kids – and Miko herself, of course – caring for Johnny would be a walk in the park, Smokescreen thought gratefully.

As the sun was sinking down beneath the horizon, the quartet stood in front of the gigantic mall structure, saying their goodbyes. "And your paperwork is coming along well, I hope?" Prowl prodded Smokescreen. "Are you having any difficulties I should help you address?"

Smokescreen waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, it's going along alright. It's boring as slag, but I'm powering through. Still, I'll be over the moon once it's all over." Suddenly, his face twisted into a pained look. "I hate having to send Johnny back to the youth sector, Prowl. Some of the kids pick on him. I wish I could just take him back home with me now."

To his surprise, Prowl actually smiled in response. "That's good, Smokescreen. Not that he's being bullied, but that you care about Johnny so deeply. It will serve you well once he starts to live with you. He'll need all of the affection you can give him, I believe." Prowl sounded sad, Smokescreen noticed, which was rather unlike him. Perhaps his brother had become closer to the boy than he had realized.

Well, no one said that was a bad thing. Smokescreen wanted his brothers to like Johnny.

"Is it like that with Terry?" Smokescreen asked – referring to his elder brother's godson. "I mean, the whole affection thing?"

Prowl considered that for a moment before responding. "Perhaps not as much as it could be. I care about Terrence a great deal, but he does fine on his own. That doesn't stop me from trying, of course," He said, finishing his statement with a chuckle.

Now he was laughing? Smokescreen's optics opened wide with alarm. "Okay, seriously. Who are you and where's my brother?" He asked, only half kidding.

Meanwhile, Bluestreak was a short distance away, having a deep and meaningful conversation with his new foster nephew. "But the thing to remember is, when you're in the sniper's nest, there's not a whole lot to do," he instructed to a partly interested and partly confused Johnny. "You never know exactly when your target's gonna come into your sights, so you need to keep an eye on the scope whenever you can. It's not a job for the easily bored, Johnny, my boy."

The human nodded. "I can't see you, doing that, Blue," he admitted.

The former sniper smirked. "Because I'm too energetic? Too upbeat?"

"Too nice."

Bluestreak was genuinely dumbstruck for a moment. "Oh, well... you know, I don't do it a whole lot anymore," he stumbled a bit, trying to save face. "I didn't really have a choice back then. War's kind of a kill or be killed sort of situation. But I'm happy where I am now. Racing's fun, and making people smile's a great feeling, Johnny."

"I... guess that makes sense," the young man nodded. "I sort of want to – make people smile too. It feels, it feels good."

Bluestreak smiled proudly, giving the human a pat on the head with a servo. "That it does, kiddo. That it does."

"Hey, you two. Having fun?" A voice cut in. Human and robot turned to see Smokescreen standing nearby, watching with a bemused look on his face. "Well, I hate to cut this short, but I gotta rush Johnny back to the youth sector. They'll kill me if I keep him out much longer."

Bluestreak sighed theatrically. "Fine. I guess you can have him back." He whipped back toward Johnny and spoke quickly. "But seriously, little man, keep in touch. Uncle Blue's always got time for family, you hear me?" Johnny nodded. "There's a good kid. Have a great night, okay?"

Prowl walked up to join them. "And don't forget, we're always here if you need our help. Our family looks after its own," he said firmly. "That is a promise."

There was an intensity in Prowl's eyes that Johnny couldn't ignore, but he couldn't bring himself to question it. "I understand. Thanks," he simply replied.

"Ready to hit the road, champ?" Smokescreen asked, looking down at his ward. A thumbs up from the boy sent the Autobot shifting back into car form, and Johnny slid in, waving a final goodbye to the other two mechs. They drove off, and the young man watched as Bluestreak and Prowl faded into the distance.

Uncles Blue and Prowler... Johnny tried the title out in his mind. To his pleasant surprise, it wasn't unwelcome. Too early, perhaps, by a considerable amount of time, but he could see himself using it for real in the future.

Either way, he'd had a blast with them today. He hoped deeply that he'd see them again soon.

"I take it you had a good time?" Smokescreen chirped. "You look like you've enjoyed yourself today."

"Yeah. It was really fun," Johnny said. "Blue and Prowl are, are really nice. I'm glad they're your brothers."

Smokescreen's spark burned with joy at Johnny's response. If he'd been in robot mode at the time, he was certain he would have picked the boy up and given him the biggest hug either one of them had ever experienced. "That's awesome, Johnny! Don't worry, if everything goes to plan, you'll be seeing plenty more of them in the future."

Johnny liked the sound of that, but before he could make that clear a sudden yawn erupted from his mouth. "Sorry, I'm kinda tired," he admitted.

The Autobot taking him home simply chuckled. "Makes sense, today's been a big day. Get some rest, Johnnytron. I'll wake you up when we're nearly there."

The boy went out like a light without so much as a breath of argument. Looking upon his prone form fondly, Smokescreen allowed his speed to drop – just a little at first, then a little more, and a little more. Before long, they was cruising through the city roads at a nice, unhurried pace. Smokescreen knew he'd have to give up Johnny once they made it back, whether he wanted to or not. The least he could do was make it last while he had the chance.

Next time, Johnny meets Bulkhead! Personally, I've been excited for that for a while now, and I hope you all feel the same. See you again, I promise!

Tomorrow's Hero, signing out.