Title: Wheelie II
Rating: T
"Woah... what happened here?," Flipsides asked, stepping cautiously around the wreckage strewn across her brothers' floor. She stopped when a growl came from the lump under the berthsheets, where her older sibling was currently bundled up.
"Honestly, after today you'd think-"
"Think what?!," Frenzy snarled. "What do you know about anything! You don't! You're just some stupid, little femme and-"
Flipsides sighed exaggeratedly, cutting off the youngling's rant. "...were you rejected?," she replied after a moment, her tone softening a little. "Strange... I had thought that he liked you. Wheelie was demonstrating enough signs and I made sure the letter was the best..."
"It was YOU?!" Frenzy threw the blankets back, shooting up on the berth and glaring at his sister. "You wrote that letter! You damn glitch, how dare you? I didn't know where the frag that stupid note came from, and Wheelie was crying and-"
The femme first cringed at the angry words her brother was shouting at her, but her meekness was quick to disappear as soon as the rest of Frenzy's shouting caught up with her. "Crying...? What did you do to him?!," Flipsides yelled back, denta bared.
The black kittycon shuttered his optics at the unexpected vehemency, leaning back, before his hackles rose in defense. "N-none of your business! Just stay out of my life!" Grabbing the blankets again, Frenzy threw himself back onto the berth, hiding from the world.
"Well good then! Rot in here for all I care!," the sparkling continued to shout, coolant rising to her own optics. "It's all you'd deserve anyway for hurting Wheelie when he only liked you, you big jerk!" Stomping her pede angrily, Flipsides turned, huffing in distress as she hurried back out of her brothers' room.
A klik after she had gone, a red visor peeked out from under the sheets; a small, whimper of a sob escaping before the mech buried himself back in his little cocoon.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He... he was so stupid! Wheelie threw his books into his bag, pausing for a moment, staring at the picture taped to the back of his locker, before he reached inside, ripping Frenzy's image down and crumpling it into a ball in his fist. Feeling tears collecting in his optics again, the autodog quickly slammed his locker shut, hurrying down the hallway; hoping that he would not be stopped by a teacher or run into someone he didn't want to see.
The papillon made it all the way out the school's side doors before the dreaded interception happened.
"Excuse me? Could I speak with you for a moment?"
Refraining from wiping at his optics, Wheelie turned to the little femme, blinking at her in confusion. "I... I suppose so," he replied, "Why though?"
The puce and white sparkling smiled up at the autodog kindly, before skipping forward and grabbing his servo. "I promise it won't take long," she assured, "I just wanted to talk."
Uneasy still, Wheelie allowed himself to be pulled around the school, sitting on a bench near the soccer fields at the unknown kittycon's lead. Jumping onto the bench herself, the femme turned to him, her visor dimming softly even as her smile grew a little more.
"You seem sad... is anything wrong?," she asked.
At the direct question, the papillon felt his intakes rattle, the coolant gathering again in his optics. The sparkling scooted closer, taking his servo and snuggling into his side. "I'm sorry...," she whispered.
"W-why... why be sorry? You've d-done nothing t-to me...," he replied shakily, unable to push his sorrow away in the presence of the stranger's comfort. "D-don't take responsibility, f-for something th-that he-"
"But I am to blame," the femme cut in apologetically. She straightened up, looking the youngling in the optics. "Because of me, you're hurting... I-i... I knew that my brother liked you, but he didn't have the courage! And I thought, that I could help... B-but my letter only made things worse and for that I'm really sorry!
"W-what?!," Wheelie jumped to his pedes, stepping back from the sparkling, his optics flaring brightly. "I-i, but..."
"Please! Please don't run!," the kittycon begged, sliding off the bench. She clasped her servos before her chestplates imploringly. "Frenzy really does like you, and he's just as upset! He never meant to hurt you, I know he didn't, but he was just confused since I wrote the letter and he never knew. If you two just-"
The autodog shook his helm violently, backing away from the femme further. "N-no! No more lies," he wheezed, the tears dripping down his cheekplates. "With each a bit of me dies! I-if I h-hear anymore... I don't have the same faith as before. I just can't, won't, believe... b-believe that he f-feels anything for me..."
"I'm not made of stone...," Wheelie whimpered, shouldering his bag higher and turning away from Flipsides, "P-please, just l-leave me alone!" Choking on a sob, the papillon ran from the sparkling, not even glancing backwards. He missed the way that the kittycon's ears drooped or the sadness that shone in her visor as she watched the older 'bot flee; feeling worse and worse for her part in this whole mess.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Dad..."
Soundwave turned at the creaking door, setting his pen down and facing his son. This, he mused silently to himself, was almost becoming routine. Always it seemed that his little ones had some sort of trouble, and only on the rare nights when the kittycon could be found working late in his home office, would he be approached. Deja vu or not, Soundwave supposed it was good to know that he was still wanted as a parent for the advice he could give.
"Status: not busy. Inquiry: something on your processor Frenzy?," he asked, spinning his chair fully to face the youngling.
Frenzy seemed doubtful, but eventually he sighed, and padded over to his sire. Unusual for him, the black mech curled up at Soundwave's pedes; arms wrapping around one of the older kittycon's legs and squeezing tightly.
"Dad... I think I did something really bad."
Stunned by the show of affection, if only because Frenzy usually saved his cuddles and kisses for his bondmate Tracks, the persian was unable to respond for a moment. Servo resting on his son's helm, Soundwave rubbed at a lowered ear while saying, "Comment: vague. Inquiry: why do you feel as if you've done something bad?"
The youngling's helm turned up, a dim visor staring at Soundwave. Opening his mouth, Frenzy was quick to shake his helm gently, keeping silent to the question. Deciding not to push, the blue mech let the smaller kittycon remain as he was, until such a time that Frenzy was able to speak again. A couple kliks later, and he was doing just that. "I...I made a m-mistake... Dad, when you and mom got into a fight, what did you do to make it up to him?"
At the question, Soundwave suddenly understood what was going on. His gaze softening as he continued to pet the black kittycon's helm, the persian leaned back into his chair; his smile hidden under his mouthguard. "Fact: would apologize and confess my wrong-doing. Suggestion: sometimes repeating how you felt on a situation, or about the 'bot, helps in soothing any lingering aches," he said.
Frenzy was quiet as he absorbed this advice, before he nodded his helm and slowly rose to his pedes. Already missing the contact with his child, Soundwave clasped his servos in his lap, his visor glued to the youngling as he shuffled in embarrassment before him. "U-umm... th-thanks, dad," Frenzy mumbled. "For everything..."
"Status: you're welcome. Request: go back to bed, sleep well. Wish you all the best in reconciling with your crush."
Blushing, the black kittycon's ears shot up at being found out, before he mutely nodded his helm and hastily left the room. Soundwave chuckled lowly at the action, his spark only pulsing weakly in his chestplates. It was hard, the persian thought, being a parent and realizing that suddenly your children were all grown up and you couldn't understand where all the time had gone, when they'd still been sucking their thumbs or holding your servo as you crossed the street. Now they were becoming full-grown mechs and femmes, seeking out their own futures and falling in love. Soundwave vented softly, ears sinking against his own helm.
He wondered idly if he should tell Tracks that Frenzy had a crush on someone...
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Flipsides ducked as another paper projectile came shooting through the open doorway. "Um...," she began, looking up at her older brother who stood on the other side of the doorway, a basketball tucked under one arm, "What's going on?"
"Beats me," Rumble sniffed. "He's been in there all day. Won't even come outside to shoot some hoops with me."
Peeking into the room cautiously, the puce femme was surprised to see her other brother Frenzy hunkered down at the shared desk in the twins' room; surrounded by a sea of crumpled paper balls and scribbling away fiercely on a brand new sheet. Seeing that she wasn't in immediate danger of getting bopped with one of them, Flipsides collected one of the few that had been tossed out of the room, unfolding it and smoothing out the edges a little. "He's... writing music?," the sparkling gaped, her visor flaring in confusion. "Or, well, lyrics I should say. But... Frenzy sucks at writing songs. You usually do that, Rumble."
She turned her gaze back up to the blue youngling, finding a frown on his face as he glanced into the berthroom. "Yeah, I know. Yet that idiot's determined to write up some sort of...something. He won't even let me help or tell me what it's for...," Rumble grumbled. "You know, I'd thought his weirdness would stop after he finished his random sulking episode last week, but now I'm starting to miss him huddling under a blanket and growling every time I walked past. Beats him ignoring me for some stupid song..."
With a huff, her brother turned about and headed back down the hall to the staircase. Flipsides watched him go for a moment, before turning her attention to the black twin still working away in the room. Glancing down at the sheet in her servos, the kittycon smiled, hopeful at the implications shown before her. Maybe her brother wasn't such a lost cause after all. With a skip and twirl, the sparkling went on her merry way, silently wishing Frenzy the best of luck in his task.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Talent shows at the school were the best. With the diverse student body, the display of skills and hobbies made the annual Talent Bash at Iacon High a must-see event of the stellar cycle. Frenzy and Rumble were popular spots on the show list, and they certainly loved to make their fans scream, to the teacher's chagrin. Playing hard and playing loud, the auditorium was in an uproar by the time the two infamous twins had finished their first song. Thanks to them being frequent participants (as well as being utterly adored and well behaved during the two weeks leading up to the show) they were allowed to play three songs -more than the common talent show participant was given. As the last note of their previous song faded into silence, Rumble took hold of the mike, sharing a look with his brother before speaking into the head.
"Alright, my bro Frenzy here is going to take over for this second song. It's a little something new and a little different... and completely done by him alone. So, give a round of applause for him, 'bots! A little encouragement for this big sparkling and the debut of his latest song."
Frenzy stepped up to centre stage, making a swipe for Rumble's helm as the other kittycon stepped back. Laughing at the exchange, the crowd clapped, small whispers breaking out curiously. New songs weren't uncommon with the two brothers, but for the black twin to be the one introducing them? That sparked some interest.
Silence fell again as Frenzy put aside his saxophone, grabbing an electric guitar and picking up a soft beat. Behind him, Rumble hit up the keyboard, filling out the melody. The change of style stunned the audience, who had never heard either of the kittycons play something soft nor slow. And then, Frenzy was singing...
"Aggravated difficulty
It's somewhat my specialty
I never say what I really mean
prone to blow up in the wrong scene
Lacking even the courage to say I'm sorry
after one terrible misunderstanding
And with all my fronts and lies
and bitter cuts
I've bruised plenty others before
but just this once...
I realize how much I can hate
the things I do, or just how late
I react to something
I should have kept safe
from the beginning
See, I'm a stubborn, punk fool
The kind you traditionally meet at school...
And though you'll probably
grow up and head on your way
Becoming something greater than
all these wasted words and lines
Leaving all this behind...
Would it be wrong of me
to want to join you that day?
'Cause I know how stupid I can be
How dumb and selfish I seem
But I've never felt something
That I've longed to hold safe
from the beginning
I made you run
I made you cry
I cut you deep
without questioning why
And I still see your pretty face
marked with the signs of my disgrace
And maybe I'm out place
asking for your saving grace
Pleading that my apologies
might actually mean something...
So if you're able
to look past my tough-guy acts
Can forgive my inadequate tact...
Would you in any way be willing
To give me another chance
to start from the beginning...?"
As the music began to dwindle, signaling the song's end, the auditorium erupted into ruckus applause; femmes screaming out proclamations of love and utter devotion to the black youngling up on stage. Wheelie, seated in the side row, was absolutely mute, his optics glazed over with coolant as he stared at Frenzy, his trembling servos clasped over his mouth. It looked as if the kittycon was searching the crowd, looking for the autodog specifically. The papillon's spark gave a weak, little pulse at the thought.
"Wheelie...?," Chromia asked from right beside the student. She bowed her helm worriedly, trying to meet optics with the smaller mech. "Is everything alright?"
Hesitantly, Wheelie nodded, still not speaking; his attention fixed entirely on the other youngling as he stepped back, swapping instruments before joining his brother for their last song of the talent show.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Meet you in the back, 'Ren!," Rumble jeered as he grabbed his guitar case and raced through the back of the stage.
"Wait! Bro! Ah, jerk...," Frenzy grumbled as his twin booked it from backstage, leaving the black youngling all by himself. With a sigh, the kittycon shrugged, continuing his task of making sure that his saxophone was alright and undamaged in any way, before setting it inside its' own satin, padded case. He was still muttering and cursing himself softly, and so did not hear the little pedes padding up behind him.
He did hear when his unexpected visitor spoke though.
"F-frenzy...? Wi-will you be seeing me?"
"Wheelie!?," the taller student yelped, leaping to his pedes and whirling around. He jumped back upon seeing the autodog, and at his loud outburst, Wheelie did the same. Immediately, guilt overcame Frenzy and he snapped his servos to his side, bowing his helm repentantly.
"A-about... about before," he stuttered, "W-wheelie, I'm r-really sorry. I-i shouldn't have-"
"It's okay, there's nothing to say," Wheelie kindly interrupted, bravely stepping forward, one servo outstretched. He hovered there, hesitantly, as if the papillon didn't know what other action to take. Staring at the appendage for a moment, Frenzy lifted his gaze, finding his optics glued to Wheelie's. Pale cheekplates darkened with energon, and a small, pretty smile worked its way onto the smaller youngling's lip components. "U-um... y-you play very well! You practice very hard, I can tell!"
Rubbing at an ear self-consciously, the kittycon shifted in place, trying to place his thoughts in order. "N-not really...," he confessed to the autodog's generous compliment. "Just kinda... play..."
Surprise showed itself on Wheelie's face. "O-oh..." Their means of casual conversation lost, the two students stood before each other uncertainly, shuffling and avoiding looking directly at the other. For a moment, Frenzy wondered if he should just spare them the trouble by leaving first... and then he discarded that idea, realizing finally that Wheelie had come to see him.
"W-was... was there something you wanted, Wheelie?," he asked, hoping that his inquiry might move the situation along -no matter what ending it would result in.
The papillon jolted a little at the question, his servos wringing themselves together nervously before his chestplates. "You... that letter you did write... it wasn't really you, right?" Large, blue optics were looking at him innocently, even as Frenzy shamefully nodded his helm.
"Y-yeah," the black youngling answered. "It was my kid sister. She... I-i'm sorry, Wheelie. Really... I s-shouldn't have gotten angry with you then, I mean-"
Wheelie quickly shook his helm, his optics glazing over even as he struggled to smile brighter. "There's no need to fret," Wheelie said, slowly turning around, "This we can just forget. Goodbye Frenzy; going home I-"
"W-wait!," Frenzy shouted, racing around and blocking the autodog's path. He paused, staring down at the anxious youngling, feeling his spark whirl wildly in his chestplates and his fuel tanks flip-flop sickly. "Th-the song -I may not have wrote the letter, but I did write every word for that song, a-and Wheelie... Wheelie I really do like you! I-i'm sorry that I was such a coward and freaked out before. P-please... please, will you give me a chance a-and go out with me?"
His visor gleamed beseechingly and even his servos were clasped before his chassis in prayer. If it took getting down on his knee joints, the kittycon was willing to do just that at this very moment. He was saved the trouble though, tears collecting in Wheelie's optics as the orange student shuddered, his intakes hitching in disbelief.
"Y-you feel this, really?," the autodog wibbled, "And w-want to be with me, truly?"
The hope in his tone was enough to bring some relief to the stressed mech. "Y-yes! Yes, Wheelie," he gushed, feeling his own self getting choked up as well. "I want to be y-your mechfriend, a-and I want us to go out a-and I want to see you smile and have fun. I-i swear I won't hurt you again, I-" The rest of Frenzy's words were cut off as Wheelie threw himself at the other student, face pressed into the kittycon's chestplates and thin arms wrapped as tight as they could around his middle.
This time, the black youngling did the right thing -he wrapped his own arms around the papillon and hugged him back just as tightly, kissing the side of his orange temple. The little, puppy tail wagged in contentment.
C.M.D: Song written by yours truly~