Authors Note: Hello lovely readers, I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe! Suffice to say, I have been super busy with this fic, so that hopefully I am far enough ahead when school starts that I will be able to update more regularly. Funny story, I had planned on updating last night, however when I copied and pasted the fic from my Doc to over here, it lost all of my typographical emphasis, like italics and boldfaces. Originally my plan was to update it this morning but I slept in, hehe... Anyways, here it is! This chapter is the longest so far, but originally I had it being close to 11,000 words before I realized I needed to shorten it significantly! Obviously, there will be a part two next week, so no worries!
Also, I have been thinking about updating more regularly, and since my school schedule allows me to have a free day on Thursdays, I will post then. I am not entirely sure at what time yet, but I am committing to updating on Thursdays from now on, or until I decide that doesn't work for me anymore. I don't think there is anything else...
*Recon tears the door down, enraged* Author, you are forgetting to thank the reviewers again! I swear to Primus, if you do it one more time...
*Raises my hands in the air, internally screaming, giant sweat drop* I'm sorry I'm sorry! Onto the reviewers! I was actually super surprised and extremely grateful for the amount of reviews I received this week! I danced around my room when I saw there were three reviews for the previous chapter, let alone that two of them are new! Again, I appreciate any and all questions, comments, concerns, etc.
Judgedg: I am so glad you enjoyed the last chapter! Currently the little family don't have a name in the story, but (slight spoiler) I am working on a plot bunny to remedy that in a few chapters. I really appreciate that you take the time to curate a review, and I look forward to hear what you think about this chapter!
FUNTIMESKYWAVE: Hello and welcome! I am glad you enjoyed the sticky sweetness of that last chapter, as there is more to come! I really appreciate that you left a review, and I look forward to hearing your opinions about this next one.
Starflower525: Hello and welcome! The next chapter is up, and I am so glad you are excited to find out what happens next! I really appreciate that you took the time to leave a review and I look forward to seeing a review from you next time!
On that note, I am only one person, and sometimes I miss my own mistakes, so if any of you see something that defiantly isn't right, please tell me so I can fix it, I would really appreciate it.
Any new readers, remember to please read, follow and review, as it is extremely helpful for me as a writer!
'Til all are one!
Recon POV
Slowly my mind starts to surface from recharge, feeling my systems online one by one. Still feeling sluggish, I stretch my body, feeling my pistons and cables stretching along with my skeletal structure before relaxing once more, trying to suck out the last few nano-klicks of comfort before returning to the land of the living. My mindscape feels all warm and fuzzy from the bond, still overflowing with comforting feelings. Mentally poking Prowl, I find he is deeper in slumber than myself. Switching my focus to Sparkplug, I find him to be wide awake focusing intently on something.
Concerned, I nudge his side of the bond, making myself known, only for him to send me images of a small bundle of silver protoform, wires along with yellow and black plating, dodging from crate to crate, creeping over towards Spark's wings and tail, where I currently am resting. Large blue optics, disproportionate compared to his silver faceplates, I notice his armor is a bit too large for his frame. Every now and then, I see little nubs on his back, probably some form of door wings, bouncing up and down as the mechling makes his way over. I would say he is even… adorable, given that they- no, that we are a race of giant sentient robots. Also knowing that not all small things exactly like being called cute, I choose to keep that observation to myself.
Internally groaning at the idea of moving, but knowing how uncomfortable Sparkplug was at being stalked by this smaller being, I online my optics and reassure him through the bond. Stretching, I flip myself so that I am on my tank, crossing my arms comfortably in front of me, my head resting on my arm armor. I stare expectantly at the gap between Spark's wing and tail, where light from the outside filters through, waiting for our unexpected visitor. I didn't have to wait too long as a yellow and black helm with bright, inquisitive optics peak through. Making eye contact, the little mech freezes, his adorably expressive optics widening at being caught. Slowly, as not to frighten the mech, I lift a servo and wiggle a few fingers in greeting.
"Hello," I say softly, as if talking to a frightened animal. He still jumps at the sound of my voice, but doesn't run away. Instead, we just stare at each other for what feels like vorns, but is probably less than a breem. I hold my last intake in, waiting for the small mech to say or do something, anything. Finally, he raises a servo and copies my movements, making me giggle at how exaggerated his are, eliciting a similar giggle from what I can now tell is definitely a mech youngling. Mechling then? I didn't realize that the Autobots had younglings in their care except for… that is, in some continuities, Megatron destroyed the last safe haven of the femmes and younglings, leaving no new generation. This resulted in the formation of the underground Femme Coalition, lead by Elita One after the city that was tasked with their protection was destroyed. Has that already happened? Or am I in some sort of different, new timeline? Ugh this makes my brain hurt just thinking about it…
Drawing me from my thoughts, Sparkplug asks me ::What should I do? I don't exactly enjoy being used as a jungle gym by small things.:: Mentally I scoff at the large mech.
::Please, you liked it when the kids at the park would play and fawn all over you when you were a dog. Plus, I highly doubt he could hurt us much. I mean, look at him, he's tiny compared to you. Just stay still and let me do my thing.:: I can feel him grumbling but I choose to ignore it in favor of looking back at the youngling.
Tentatively, I ask, "W- Would you like to come in? It is warm and we can talk if you'd like?" The mechling hesitates before clambering in, albeit a little clumsily. I sit up so my back is to Sparkplug's tucked leg, carefully maneuvering the fast asleep form of Prowl onto my lap. The mechling, once settled, rests his back against Sparkplug's tail, leaving enough room for a mid-sized mech to sprawl out in the space between us. As I look over his frame once more, I can tell there is a spark of… something else inside of him. It is similar to the power of the Prime with the Matrix, but it is… muted in a sense. Granted, it is there, and holds promise, but it is as if he needs to grow into that power... How do I even know about this stuff?! I realize belatedly.
Shaking myself mentally from the realization I anxiously flutter my doorwings, trying to figure out something to talk about. I pet and fiddle with Prowls outermost armor, noticing that he does need to be cleansed judging by the grime and dirt built up, agreeing with Ratchet about the whole bathing thing. I can tell through the bond that the lazy panther is starting to return to consciousness but choosing to remain as though offline for an unknown reason. Alright Recon, potential new friend, gotta make a good impression. Especially a youngling, and based on his colors I can only assume who he is. Finally taking a deep, fortifying vent, I break the silence.
"My name is Recon… I'm kinda new around here, so I don't know who everyone is or what goes on at the base. Would you tell me your name?" I can see the mechling switch his optics between my faceplates and my lap. I could tell that he wanted to do something with Prowl, but I couldn't say what exactly. "This here in my lap is named Prowl, my symbiote. And the one that we're sitting around is Sparkplug." Addressing the symbiote, I tell him in a fake chastising tone, "Spark, be nice and greet our guest."
I can hear him grumbling before letting out a begrudging, "...hello." The mechling looks around, trying to find the source of the voice. Giggling, I poke and annoy the symbiote to continue the interaction, promising all the belly rubs in the universe if he did this. He grumbles more before saying in a gentler tone, "I am here, little one," before onlining his large blue, almost white, optic to stare intensely at the mechling. The little mech seems surprised, but not frightened by the realization that our impromptu shelter is in fact alive and staring at him.
"Prowl here is awake, but being stubborn… If you would like, you can hold him while we talk?" The mechling tears his intense gaze from the large optic of Sparkplug's to look down at my lap where Prowl lays, nodding his head enthusiastically. At this proposition, the cat symbiote onlines his yellow optics to stare indignantly at me. I poke the cat mentally, promising to give him as many cuddles as he wants if he does this for me. Slowly, the cat bot stretches before padding over to sit in the mechling's lap, choosing to stare at me with daggers. The small mech places his servos hesitantly on Prowl's back plating, slowly running it over the overlapping armor. We sit in comfortable silence for a while longer, me studying the way the youngling interacts with my symbiote, while the mechling studies the metallic cat in his lap. He chooses to be very gentle and soft with how he pets the symbiote and Prowl, in all his hamminess, flips over, allowing the mechling access to his stomach plating.
::Hamming it up I see,:: says Sparkplug through the bond, me sending my own agreement while also my appreciation. Prowl chooses to ignore us, preferring to revel in the attention.
"Bumblebee." I am immediately snapped from my musings by the sound of the mechlings voice. Oh shit! It really is him, and he is adorable! My internal fangirl screams. On the outside, I school my facial features and try to look neutral.
"Bumblebee…" I repeat to myself. I can hear the slight awe in my voice, but hopefully he doesn't recognize it as such. "It is very nice to meet you Bumblebee. To be honest, I have never met a youngling before."
"That is not what I've heard." I pause at his quiet confession, and he continues on, growing in confidence, "Some mechs say that you're a femme with faulty programing that causes bad things to happen wherever you go. And that you eat younglings for breakfast." I can tell that he is guilty for repeating those things to me, but I did ask for it. Not exactly surprising seeing as what I've done since arriving at the base. I burst into laughter at how guilty he looks, confusing him.
"Sorry Bumblebee, it's not you at all! I should have known stuff like this would happen. Now that I know what you've heard, what do you think about me now that we have formally met?" I can see him mulling over my words before deciding.
"... I think you're not what the rumors say." I nod my head in approval, thankful that at least he can decide for himself, even at this young of an age. Speaking of young…
"Now then, what are you doing trapeasing around the base alone?" The youngling stops petting, resting his servo on Prowl's stomach plating to look at me questioningly.
"I might have ditched my… friend earlier… to get some alone time. I was actually looking for a place to hide up here, since only fliers come up here and found you." I humm in contemplations, mulling over the words he'd said.
"I understand, and I won't rat you out." I pause at his confusion before replaying what I'd said in my head, realizing I'd said it in English. I rephrase, "I mean I'm not gonna tell anyone where you are." I pause, seeing his small doorwings slump in relief before continuing on, "I understand where you're coming from." I can see the puzzled look on his faceplates as I gently say, "Everyone looks over your shoulder, expecting something from you, or seeing you as a spark of hope rather than you as a mech. It can be... overwhelming, to say the least." I can see the shocked and tortured look on his faceplates at my words. It was sparkbreaking to see such a look on such a young face, all I wanted to do was scoop him up and cuddle him to my chest plates and reassure him that everything would be okay. I had probably put into words what he's been struggling with internally for who knows how long.
"I… ya it can be. I was one of the last younglings to be born before the Well went dark." I nod my helm in understanding as I try to piece together this world's timeline. Ok, so he is one of the last new sparks. But where are the rest?
"Are… are there more like you? New sparks that is?" He makes a fist at my question before looking away, probably rethinking his decision to interact with me.
"...No." Deciding that this line of questioning would only get me in trouble with the mechling, I get an idea to quickly change the subject.
"I need to ask something of you." I can see the suspicious look on his faceplates as I quickly continue, "Nothing dangerous, I assure you. I don't really know where I am on the base exactly, and was hoping you could take me to the wash racks and help me bathe these two symbiotes. Ratchet gave me orders to get them cleaned up, but failed to mention where to go exactly." I could see him contemplating my offer before his face practically beams with joy at the thought of him, a youngling, telling me, an adult, where to go and what to do.
"Sure!" Without another word, he gently places Prowl on the ground before scrambling towards the exit. Before he can climb out, I grab the mechling, pulling him close to my chest plates, an idea rapidly forming in my mind as I send it to Sparkplug. He struggles slightly in my hold, but settles him down soon enough with my words.
"Wait, watch this." The mechling relaxes in my arms at my statement. To Sparkplug, I chuckle mentally before saying, ::Make it a good show, you have an audience.:: I can feel his joy at the prospect of what I had asked, his systems rapidly starting up as warm gusts rushing over our plating from his vents, making Bumblebee and I giggle as Prowl silently links to me. Still kneeling on the floor, we can see his optic brighten with joy as he starts rapidly spinning around us until suddenly, with a flourish his massive form in front of us, wing flared proudly and tail whipping back and forth in excitement at what I had asked him to do. His optics blazing, he takes one look at me and Bumblebee. I can feel the awe and excitement radiating from the youngling, and before I can say anything, he jumps off the building. I hear a gasp come from my arms from the startled youngling, but reassure him.
"Watch," I whisper, and not a moment later Sparkplug's massive form rushes past. He lets out a glee filled roar as his frame glides through the air effortlessly, performing tricks in mid air for his audience. I can feel the joy from the brief flight ricocheting through the bond, reveling in the feeling. I can hear a breathless 'wow' from the mechling in my care as he watches the flight end as Sparkplug comes in for a soft landing, subspacing his wings as he saunters over, nuzzing his large head into my face before doing the same to the still awed Bumblebee. I clap my servos together in applause, quickly the mechling in my hold doing the same.
"That was fantastic, don't you agree Bumblebee?" I can feel the mechling nod his helm before slipping out of my arms and heading into the base. Standing, I can tell that he is short, probably barely reaching my hip plating. Getting another good idea, I silently request Sparkplug to transform his back into the saddle, and before Bumblebee can get too far, I grab the mechling up, cuddling him in all his cuteness to my faceplates before gently tossing his surprised form onto Sparkplug's much taller back, his body not even close to fitting in the seat, legs splayed out comically. "This way, you can shout down directions as we go, and hopefully not too many mechs will see you and try to take you back to your caretakers. I also figured you'd enjoy the ride." He enthusiastically nods his helm in agreement.
"This is so crash!" Questioningly, I look up at him, trying to figure out if that is good or bad. Seeing my confused look he says, "It means it's really amazing… Thank you." I dip my helm to hide my smile and continue into the base. Turns out the youngling is quite the talker once prompted. While great at directions, he is an avid talker once comfortable. Although a longer route, it also meant we didn't run into many bots which I was definitely thankful for. Don't need to add 'youngling napper' to my list of crimes. Apparently, his favorite color is yellow, his best friend and the one who was supposed to be watching him is designated Bluestreak, who apparently can give Bumblebee a run for his money speaking wise. He is in training currently, focusing mostly on special ops and scouting. Although training with Jazz and his team on base, he still wants to be a great warrior "just like 'Hide and Optimus." When the mention of age came up, it became a bit more precarious.
"I mean I am 48 vorns now." My body chooses to stop, stunned at the age the mechling was, but he continues on. "I don't get why everyone on base is so protective I'm practically an adult. Soon I will be able to get a new frame, with a subspace and T-cog too! Jazz even said he'd start letting me go on missions if I get far enough in my training! Hey, maybe you can teach me how to drive. How old are you anyways?" I can feel my processor freezing up at the thought. 48 fragging vorns?! Technically he's older than me! And like frag I know how to transform! Really gotta learn how to do that eventually. Sparkplug turns his helm around along with Bumblebee to give me a questioning look. I sputter, trying to figure out an answer.
"I- ah- er mmhh… I will think about it. Besides-er, don't you know to never ask a femme her age?" My inner me fist pumps at my good cover. I can feel the two of them giving me questioning looks, Bee probably questioning my logic while Sparkplug my sanity. With a false sense of cheeriness I urge the two on. "Come on now, gotta get a move on, no time to waste!" With that, I quickly rush past them and down the hall.
I can hear Bumblebee say something, and Sparkplug reply with a teasing tone, "She has her reasons, and let's leave it at that." Dumb dog, at least let me be a little mysterious! Soon enough we arrive at the washracks. I stare at the large, imposing door, hoping that Bumblebee will take the initiative on this cuz I have no fragging idea on what to do. Not like Vec or Ratchet had the bright idea of telling me how to take off armor or clean myself, much less an instruction manual. Mentally cursing Vector, not for the first time since becoming a Cybertronian, I quickly remove the mechling from the saddle, holding him in my arms as I inch closer to the door.
"So... these are the wash racks?" I question the yellow bundle of cables and wires in my arms, nervously fluttering my wings despite Bee's confidence.
"Yup." He chirps confidently before continuing, "If you want, I can go in first. The washracks aren't usually busy this time of the cycle since it's the middle of active duty, so we shouldn't have to worry about any mechs in there, but just in case." I nod my helm in agreement before releasing the mechling from my arms. Quickly the door hisses open once the mechling gets close, far too loud for the abandoned hallway. It only takes Bumblebee a few klicks for his helm to pop around the doorframe, waving me inside, a huge grin plastered on his faceplates. Knowing that Sparkplug was never one for baths, I quickly get behind the large dragonformer and bracing myself, firmly pushing his aft. Certainly, I know I couldn't make him move if he didn't want to, it is purely to let him know he can't get out of bath time. I can feel his unwillingness seep through the bond along with Prowl's.
::I know you two aren't the fondest of bath's, but try not to make any trouble, please? For me? Plus I'd rather not have Ratchet on my aft cuz you two bolts for brains decide to make this harder than it has to be.:: I can feel the both of them grumbling but the pressure from the obstinate mech lessened as he meanders forward. We quickly filed into the large area, stalls with showerheads on one side, a large area directly in front of us with drains in the floor, and some sort of solvent filled pools filling the rest of the area, varying in depth and size from what I could tell. I let Prowl unlink from me to explore the area while I talk to the mechling.
"Bee, wait a second, I don't have any soap! How are we supposed to get clean?" I ask, quickly taking stock of my subspace, but really it hasn't drastically changed since arriving at the base besides the blanket Ratchet let me have from the medbay.
"It's ok Recon. Most mechs have their own supplies and use that, but the base also provides basic soaps, cloths and cleaning tools that almost no one else uses cuz it leaves streaks and stuff. According to Sunstreaker at least." I scoff at the idea of one of the canonically vainest mechs, Sunstreaker, known for his pride in his paint, even considering to use that stuff.
"I'm surprised he even touches the stuff," I grumble under my breath as I rush over to where Bumblebee is jumping, trying to reach a shelf high above his helm. Without even thinking, I grab his waist and give him a boost above my head.
"Only the one time, cuz of a dare from Sideswipe," he distractedly calls down, rummaging for whatever is up there. He taps my servo and I lower my arms, setting the mechling on the ground. His arms are filled with four squeeze bottles of mysterious, viscous goop along with a few wire brushes. I grab two of the bottles along with the shortest of the brushes. Fascinates, I examine the bottles, flipping them upside down and watching the goop drip around. Curious about how the bristles of the brush feel, I touch those next, surprised by how soft they are despite being some sort of synthetic metal variation, not even scratching the paint on my servos. I notice the youngling staring at me as I do this and stop in embarrassment. "You… do know what you're doing, right?" I shake my helm no, confirming the youngling's doubts. I fidget nervously under his blue optic stare, suspicion rolling off him in waves, before deciding that a partial truth is better than losing a friend.
"Look Bee, long story short, I am a lot younger than you think I am. Let's say... younger than you younger. To be honest, I don't really know what I'm doing half the time, in this frame or- or where I'm going for that matter. Not like they gave me directions, and I guess that's a part of the whole 'youth' thing, and you've been a great help but I get if you don't wanna help me out with all of this, considering what I am and- and the rumors-" I stop suddenly, a pressure on my leg plating. I can feel my systems running hot, realizing that I was about to hyperventilate, or at least the bot version of hyperventilate. Attached to my leg is Bumblebee, gripping my leg as if I'm about to disappear, the bottles and brushes scattered on the floor.
I quickly kneel and set down my own bottles and brush. I gather the yongling to my chest plates, keening in emotional pain, as the past finally hits me all at once, for the first and not last time wishing that I could actually cry. First losing my home, my old life, then gaining the impossible mission from Vec, wishing I could tell someone what's going on, to ask for help, knowing deep down that my knowledge could be used to harm more instead of help end the war, given the chance. Add onto that, the truth that my favourite characters don't even trust me. I cuddle him to my chest plates for who knows how long, and the entire time, Bumblebee lets us stay like this. I can feel the concern from my symbiotes trickle through the bond and reassure them that everything will be fine. I eventually calm down enough to draw back from the -probably- plate crushing embrace, concern radiating from Bumblebee as he looks up at my faceplates. I sense the presence of Primus briefly flare in the mechling's spark, making me concerned, but his next words calm me.
"I don't really understand all this, but I know that everything will turn out fine." I can tell that Bumblebee really means those words too. "Besides, whenever you need to know something, come to me. The bigger mechs and femmes can be weird about new bots, but I know you've got a good spark." I smile at his comforting statement. I gather the supplies and get back to the cassettes, Bumblebee not too far behind.
"Well then, teacher, teach me your ways." The mechling giggles as I set down the supplies and Bumblebee begins teaching me everything he knows about washing armor and protoforms. We start with Prowl as he is the smallest and easiest to work with, and dives into his explanations while simultaneously feeling over Prowl's body as he does so, searching for something.
"Each mech and femme has their own different locations for latches that connect armor plating to protoform." Triumphantly, the mechling gets the first latch, loosening the leg plating as he continues on, searching and releasing more latches, allowing Prowls leg plating to release and exposing his bare hip joint and silver leg protoform. "Ratchet, Ironhide and Chromia are better at this than I am, so this may take us longer."
"So, do we always remove all of our armor to get clean?" I question as I help the mechling take off the rest of Prowl's armor. Some of the overlaying pieces come off in chunks, like his back and tail, while others in pieces, like his legs. Eventually he is just his dark grey protoform. He examines himself as Bee starts gathering up the different pieces, me following his lead
"No, not usually, we rinse off under the solvent showers before dunking ourselves in the baths for a little bit if it's only our outer plating that's dirty. But seeing as how you've been here for a while, I'm guessing Ratchet wants a deep clean on all three of you." The mechling chirps, and I nod my helm in agreement. Reaching a small pool, Bumblebee throws the armor plating into the solvent,causing some of the solvent to splash out of the pool, me following his lead. We head back to the symbiotes, letting Prowl continue examining his protoform and doing the same to Sparkplug. I lift the mechling onto Sparkplug's back as I get to work on his neck and legs, making quick work. "In larger mech's cases or even ones that don't have… traditional servos, like in Sparkplugs case, they need help. So we bathe communally. Not many of us are very flexible, save for mechs like Jazz, so a lot of the time we bathe with each other to help." I nod in agreement as we continue on in silence. After a while we finish removing the armor, a significantly larger amount compared to Prowl, and are dumping the armor into a larger adjoining solvent bath. Turning on the shower, Bumblebee shows me the proper way to cleanse protoforms and joints, making quick work of Prowl.
"So how do you know how to do stuff like this with symbiotes?" I question as I scrub at a particularly difficult spot, eliciting a pitiful mewl from Prowl as we continue on, quickly pushing him back under the running stream of solvent before he can bolt away. Once satisfied, we then get to work on Sparkplug who stands still but croons and keens just as pitifully as Prowl did. Despite his size, he still acts like a puppy.
"Oh, sometimes I help out Baster with his cassettes when it's time for wash day. Usually symbiotes with Prowl, Ramhorn and Steeljaws more… organic frames, they don't typically enjoy wash days. Blaster holds them down, and Eject, Rewind and I wash them before Blaster tosses them into the bath!" We giggle at the mental image before falling into content silence, continuing to wash away as my mind wanders. I wonder if Blaster hates me. After all, I did lie about myself, even after he was so nice. I could feel my spark seize slightly at the thought. Absently, I stop to rub my chest plates and decide I should eventually go talk to him, if only to apologize for everything. My thoughts are interrupted by Bumblebee as we finish with Sparkplug, allowing him to sit under the spray of gentle solvent before leading Prowl to the baths.
"Now, the best part of keeping clean in my opinion is this! Hot solvent baths help to dissolve any gunk that's really built up, plus it relaxes some mechs joints and cables." I nod in agreement, gathering Prowl in my arms and wadding into the waist-deep, faintly blue solvent pool, Bee choosing to stay out of the pool for the time being. The warm solvent isn't unlike a hot bath back on Earth in that it is comforting. Gently I dip Prowl into the pool, his frame instantly relaxing at the contact as he begins paddling around.
"At least he seems to like it. Next up, Spark." Turning, I see that Sparkplug had exited the spray of the solvent, shutting it off. Before I can try and corral the mech, he is already submerging into one of the deeper pools, humming contentedly and I can feel both Prowl and Sparkplug's happiness through the bond. Climbing out, I look down at the mechling at my peds, seeing that we are both covered in grime and the dried remnants of soap from our work. "Well, now it's our turns Bee." The mechling is already stripped of his armor, dunking it into the solvent bath as he fumbles with one of the brushes and soap bottles. I choose to keep the armor plates that cover my spark chamber as well as my pelvic plating on, after Bee explains that those pieces are to never to come off. When I questioned why, he said that Ironhide told him so. I shrug it off, filing it away for yet another thing to ask Ratchet, and help the mechling to scrub his back. Soon enough he is clean and I sit on the floor, Bumblebee helping me with my back. Bored, I decide that a game is in order. "Hey Bee, wanna play a game?"
"What kinda game?" He is practically vibrating in anticipation. Quickly I grab two of the emptiest bottles, fill them with solvent from the shower and hand one to the mechling.
"The rules are simple, if I get hit with the solvent, you get a point and vice versa. We go until we get tired. Deal?"
"Deal!" He chirps, and before I can get up off the floor and out of range, the mechling got me right in between the door wings. I screech in surprise, causing me to lose my footing and slide across the floor on my protoform slick with soap and solvent from the previous washing. Sliding to a stop against the wall, I glared back at the mechling who's giggling at my awkward position. I can hear my symbiotes doing the same as well as their amusement through the bond.
"Oh, it is so on Bee." Scrambling to my peds I rush towards the youngling, catching him off guard as he squeals in glee, dodging my attack. His smaller size gives him an advantage, but I have experience on my side. The symbiotes choose to watch the proceedings, giving me criticisms through the bond. We throw insults back and forth, and the game goes on like this for about half a joor, points equally distributed and thoroughly distracted when we notice a figure at the door, immediately stopping us in our tracks. I study the mech as he nervously looks between me and Bee. Around 12 feet in height, the mech, based on his armor, is gangly, and looks as though his armor is a bit too large for his frame. He too has doorwings, much larger than own, twitching in agitation from what I could tell. Grey, red and white armor, with silver protoform and a red chevron, his faceplates are smooth, with bright blue optics worriedly focused on the smaller form of Bumblebee and shifting into suspicion whenever he breaks his gaze from Bee to look at my own.
"Bluestreak, how's it been!" Bee hesitantly greets the mech, waving his free servo at the mech, which immediately snaps us out of our stand down. Huh, so this is Bluestreak. I was expecting him to be bigger, but then again, he is young. Bluestreak immediately starts rambling like no tomorrow, hence his namesake as he makes his way towards the nervous youngling, skirting around where I stand cautiously.
"Bumblebee, what the frag! I've been looking for you all over base, trying to cover for the both of us, especially when your caretakers wanted to know where you are! If you haven't noticed, they are fragging scary when they wanna be, which is like all the time! Ironhide, with his huge aft cannons, and don't even get me started with Chromia! And now you're in the washracks, where you never hang out, with this new, half-naked femme and- mmgff, nngfdd..." I quickly use my servo to cover the freaking out mechling's mouth plates, and although that staved off the growing helm ache, it did nothing to stop the stream of consciousness from the distracted mech as I question Bumblebee.
"So… this is Bluestreak I take it?" I ask. He nods his helm, so I continue, "Does he always… talk so much?" Bumblebee shrugs his shoulders before rethinking his answer and nods his helm yes. Bluestreak, with surprising strength, rips my servo from his faceplates indignantly before backing away towards Bumblebee.
"Hey, I don't talk that much!" Glancing back at the mechling, I examine him as he fusses over Bumblebee, checking for any dents or scratches, still talking. I let his words fade out as he continues to check over Bumblebee. It is good that Bee has someone close to his age on base, even if it is a mech that talks way too much without saying anything at all. Soon he realizes my scrutinizing gaze is on him and stands to face me once more, silently nudging Bumblebee behind his frame. I choose to give a more formal greeting, as Bluestreak is probably more likely to tell others of how I act.
"I am afraid we got off on the wrong stabilizing servo. Apologies for my rudeness, my designation is Recon. My symbiotes are Sparkplug and Prowl. You must be Bluestreak, Bumblebee has told me much about you." I extend my servo in greeting. Confused, all he does is stare at it. I guess we don't do handshakes here, I think to myself before quickly returning it to my side as I continue, "We were actually playing a game, If you'd like to join us?" He stares at my faceplates, studying me intensely before looking down at Bumblebee. I drop my gaze there as well, who is silently begging with his big blue optics, servos clasped together. I smirk, knowing that he has perfected the look over the vorns. I can tell that Bluestreak is weak to the look, seeing his mental armor break at the sheer cuteness. Before he can say no, I turn to face Bluestreak, thrust my own squeeze bottle into his surprised servos and say in a more child-like voice, "You're on Bee's team Blue! Give me a nano-klick and I'll grab a new one!"
I trot over to the pile of cleaning supplies and quickly fill up a new bottle and the game starts again, this time two versus one. Bluestreak is unsurprisingly a good shot, and says just as much when I enquire. Blue, in way more words than necessary, said that he is training to become the best sniper in the whole Autobot army. He even invited me to come to training for the new mechs and femmes, which I gladly accepted. We talk about more meaningless things about the base in between banter and friendly name calling, and go on like this for nearly two joors. We soon realize that Bumblebee is fading fast and needs some recharge when he starts lagging behind. Putting on his armor was a fairly simple task between Blue and I, and soon enough the responsible mechling had Bee tucked against his chest plating, his optics dimming. Bumblebee tries to talk to me first, his words quiet and slurred.
"Recon… can we play again... next cycle?" I smile at his innocent question.
"Yeah, sure Bee. Get some good recharge."
"Mmm 'kay Rec..." The rest of his words are mumbled, and soon enough his optics are offlined. Bluestreak and I share a tense look before glancing down at the youngling tucked against his chest plating. We stayed like this for a while before I decided to give the mechling a little 'push' so I could finish what I started and get some of my questions answered by Ratchet.
"You're a good big brother to Bumblebee, Blue. Thanks for looking out for him." He stares at my faceplates, studying me with a hardened stare, knowing that he has definitely seen some things to make him the way he is. Perhaps this version was the lone survivor from the fall of Praxis. Praxis, a city-state known for being the cultural and technological center of Cybertron. This put the city and Decepticons at opposite corners in a way of speaking. The 'Cons want to forcefully reimagine society as they knew it, and is more often than not one of the first targets in the beginning of the war across timelines.
"It's my job to look out for him," He states as if fact, his doorwings flaring in pride. He pauses, thinking before saying, as if an afterthought, "Look, I know that we got off on the wrong ped earlier, but after getting to know you, you're not that bad all things considered, so what I'm trying to say is… thanks for taking care of him while I wasn't around." I chuckle, more to myself than him at his roundabout way of saying thank you.
"If anything, he took care of me. I would have been a lot more lost than I am now. He is… a good mechling." With that, I pat Bluestreaks shoulder, and the two quickly exit. I sigh before stretching my body, feeling my backplating pop in satisfaction before relaxing once more. I turn back to the damage we've caused to the washracks, noting the empty bottles scattered across the floor, the entire area slick with a mixture of soap and solvent creating one large, slippery mess. The worst of the puddles were gone thanks to the drains, but there was still a lot to be done before the room was back in order.
::Boss, need us to help?:: asks Sparkplug from where he is still submerged in the warm solvent. I can tell he is comfortable, along with Prowl. I pause for a moment in my analysis of the area, mulling over the offer.
::No, you guys are still clean and I want to keep you that way. Once I'm done and cleaned up, you two are getting your armor back on and I get my turn in the solvent bath for a bit.:: I look over my own frame, noting the dried soap from our game earlier. This will definitely take longer than when Bee was around…
::As you wish,:: says Prowl, who is content to paddle around his smaller pool.
Focusing back on my task, I still needed a way to push the rest of the mess towards the drains… there! Next to the exit was the alien equivalent to a push broom. I jog over, careful not to slip in the puddles, grab it and make quick work of the remaining mess, corralling it towards the nearest drains. Returning the broom, I next gather the empty bottles and return them to the shelf before turning back to my symbiotes. I gather Prowls armor first, and with a mental command, have him come over to where it is relatively dry and clean. Making quick work of replacing his armor, I next grab a large towel and rub him off of any remaining solvent. Satisfied, I place the towel on a hook for later use as Prowl shakes his body like a dog. Nervously, I realize we have been in the wash racks for a while now, and not wanting to have anyone, least of all full grown mechs see me like this, I give Prowl instructions.
::Prowl, while I am working on Spark and cleaning myself off, could you keep watch?:: He immediately trots over to the doorway before pausing, looking back at me, his yellow optics meeting my own blue ones.
::Can I ask for what purpose?::
"I would prefer for a little warning if a mech or femme comes near here. I am not completely comfortable with a stranger seeing me so… vulnerable," I confess aloud.
::Then why let Bluestreak and Bumblebee see you in such a state?:: I can tell he is genuinely confused by my statement so I go to explain.
"Because they proved to me that I could trust them. Furthermore, they are young and would be less likely to make any... comments about my half-armored self," I confess. Despite the rumors of me being 'crazed,' for lack of a better term, I had noticed mechs giving me predatory looks in the halls every now and then. This could suggest there is some sort of sexual... thing going on in Cybertronian society that perhaps some of those fanfictions actually got right, more so than any one of the movies, cartoons or comics had addressed before. What can I say, I am better at observing than participating when it comes to these things. Although Bumblebee had confirmed that mechs and femmes bathe together, he was still a youngling. Furthermore, I didn't understand much about Cybertronian, or for that matter, Autobot, culture. Yet another thing I had to ask Ratchet. "It would be better if I removed myself from those situations before it causes me more trouble, especially given out status on base."
::Understood,:: and with those parting words, Prowl silently disappears out the door. Without a word Sparkplug trots over to me, ready to have his armor replaced as well. I begin fishing his armor out of the solvent and placing it on his frame, slowly covering the protoform piece by piece. I could feel him wanting to ask something, the question feeling like a cigarette butt left on the skin to burn, singeing our mindscape.
"Ask your question Spark."
::I remember much that happened when we were organic, before the accident. Your words to Prowl reminded me of what happened that night you were attacked by that male… is that why you don't want to be seen? You know, that night… it wasn't your fault.:: I pause, surprised by his words before continuing my work, but much slower. My servos shake as memories vividly flow across my mindscape, as fresh as the day they occurred. The human me, being pinned down by someone bigger and stronger, the scent of cigarettes and stale booze making their hot breath unbearable as he starts breathing faster and faster, my clothes getting ripped off, the feeling of the cool air against my bare skin shocking me out of my stupor enough as I keep repeating those same words over and over as I began trying to defend myself while pleading to the man, No, stop please no! Get off me- I take a deep vent, shaking myself from the memory, still feeling shaken at having to relive the events of that night. I can hear a shake in my voice as I reply aloud, hoping to fill the silence of the room.
"I am surprised that you remember that event. It is certainly a contributing factor, but what I told Prowl is true as well. We need to keep a low profile." I feel Sparkplug sending me feelings of comfort and sorrow, tinged with fierce anger and protectiveness. "You… you didn't tell Prowl, right? It was before his time with us, and I would prefer it kept between us."
::Of course I remember that night. After all, I was the one who bit him in the aft,:: I could feel pride at his statement, and I giggle at that as he continues, ::And so long as that event does not influence your decisions in the present, like making mech friends, then I will leave it between us.:: Finishing with his armor, I reach above me to pat Sparkplug on the shoulder. The heaviness in my spark significantly lightens at being able to draw comfort from the mech.
"I would appreciate that… and even though I said this back then… thank you. If it weren't for you, I would have come out alot worse than some bruised knuckles and ripped clothing." I pause, allowing Sparkplug to meander towards a cylindrical tube, with a fan at the bottom. "Although I do have one question." He pauses mid step, and I can practically see the comical sweat drop from his helm. "Why are you so interested in who I have relations with, if that is even possible for that matter?" He gives out a throaty cough, as if his systems are backfiring, as he continues on into the tube at a much faster pace.
::Oh- no reason Boss bot. Just want you to be happy is all.:: Before I can get another word in, Sparkplug quickly withdraws from the bond. Shaking my helm, I quickly rinse off the soap residue from my protoform and a remaining armor before practically running to the nearest solvent bath, jumping into the deepest one, and allowing myself to sink peacefully down to the bottom. Not allowing myself to think about anything, I kick off the bottom towards the surface, breaching the solvent before taking a huge vent and grab for the nearest ledge. Quickly I hoist myself out and into a shallower pool of solvent, letting my aft plating to rest on the bottom, my arms lazily outstretched on the side as I lounge, resting the back of my helm against the ground. Allowing the warmth to flood over my bare protoform, I sigh in relief as I relax my tired frame.