C.M.D: Well, I've managed to get quite a few chapters done this month while handling other things, so instead of holding them in storage I decided I would go right ahead and post them for you all! Like a token of my love, just in time for Valentine's day~ So, please enjoy all the new updates and I'll see you all again next month!
Title: Rodimus
Rating: PG
He didn't know what compelled him to do it, but the autodog had decided to keep the sparkling.
"Congratulations, Mr. Hot Rod," the vet smiled, turning to face the other mech, "You have a healthy autodog pup almost ready to be born!"
Rodimus vented a "good", glancing at the sonogram for a moment before returning his gaze to the ceiling. He ignored the vet as they wiped the jelly from his rotund abdomen, getting up and redressing.
"Just make sure you keep taking your vitamins and get in minimum exercise daily," the other autodog was saying. "And make sure you pack an overnight bag soon. With only a couple months left, the lil' pup could come any orn!"
Rodimus nodded in acknowledgement, mumbling a goodbye to the vet's cheerful farewell and exited the office. He barely looked at the secretary as he finalized his last couple appointments, unmindful of her calling him "Mr. Hot Rod" as well. After all, it had been his original name... even if he'd gone by 'Rodimus' for much longer.
Venting wearily, the golden retriever put the name difference out of his thoughts, donning his coat and heading out into the cool, fall afternoon. The air nipped a little at his exposed ears, but the autodog ignored it, pocketing his bare servos as he strolled down the street. The quaint, tiny buildings were decked out in red, yellow and brown for the upcoming thanksgiving, reminding Rodimus that he hadn't eaten for a couple cycles now and he felt like he'd need to use the washroom again in a few kliks also. Wonderful...
Sighing, Rodimus turned into a nearby grocer, determined to pick up some things before his olfactory sensor took control of his wallet.
That lasted about five kliks, a bag of pasta, one head of tungsten lettuce and a pound of cesium salami later, before the autodog found himself hunting down what his fuel tanks really craved: onions and chocolate sauce. The onions he'd gotten already, the chocolate sauce... well, that was becoming the challenge.
"N-nghh...!," Rodimus grunted, desperately trying to reach the top shelves in the aisle, with little success, "W-who... whoever t-thought to p-put these s-so high up i-is an i-idiot and I h-hate them! Slaggit!"
Panting, the golden retriever dropped back onto his heels heavily, cupping his swollen middle as the slight bounce made the bornling kick sporadically. Angry, and now sore, Rodimus glared up at the tempting bottle of coco-goodness, cursing it for everything it was worth. It was so stupid! Usually a height difference of several inches would hardly be a bother to the autodog but fatigued and weighed down by an extra forty pounds, Rodimus could barely even get on his tip-toes, let alone stretch high enough to reach the chocolate sauce. Resignedly, he turned about, finding himself face-first in a stranger's chestplates.
"W-wha- YOU!," the golden retriever hissed, pushing away from Blackout. "Are you stalking me again?!"
"You want the chocolate sauce, yeah?," Blackout asked casually, not minding the autodog's hostility.
Rodimus' hackles rose and he squeezed around the panther as quickly as he could, elbowing him for good measure. "No!," he barked irritably. "Leave it alone!," he added, as he saw the panther grab a few bottles off the shelf.
Blackout ignored him again, loading the bottles into the shorter mech's basket and following after Rodimus' pedesteps to the front of the store. In retaliation, the golden retriever increased his pace as best he could; waddling right out of the store and down the block from the grocer. How dare he help! Rodimus seethed silently, trying to make it back to his apartment before the kittycon caught up with him. Every single orn that bastard panther had been showing up -first from afar and then right in his daily activities- and Rodimus hated how cozy he was getting with him. He ran from Iacon for a reason, with the intent of leaving everything horrible and everyone behind. So why did the stupid kittycon have to follow him and ruin that perfect escape?!
Huffing weakly, the autodog was forced to slow down, shuffling at a snail's pace into his building and up the stairs to his floor. By the end of it, Rodimus thought he was going to faint. He had expended way too much energy fleeing the panther and now his body was making him pay for his poor decision.
"Woah, careful there," a familiar vocalizer said behind the autodog; a large servo cupping his lower back. Rodimus glared over a shoulder half-sparkedly, but Blackout only lifted up the bag of groceries he held, not removing his other servo. "You forgot your things," he replied to the stony gaze. "I took the liberty of getting a few bottles of sauce, so you ain't stuck struggling to reach them."
Seeing that the golden retriever was still glowering, the panther took it upon himself to slowly walk them both to the shorter mech's door; staring expectantly for Rodimus to unlock it. Only because he was dizzy and desperately needing a seat, did the autodog open the door, ignoring the kittycon that trailed in after him with a purr.
xxXxXxx
It was hard trying to be "nice".
Blackout wasn't very skillful at planning ahead and anticipating others' emotions, and all that stuff that required a wise processor. A taunt and a grope usually got him what he wanted, but Rodimus' growing belly had thrown him when he first laid optics on it. Even before that shocking revelation, the panther liked to believe that he knew that his usual stunts weren't going to have any effect on the autodog. After all, Rodimus had run away from Iacon, and the kittycon had put all of his (and Swindle's) best tricks into trying to make the lawyer his last time. Now the smaller mech was sparked and Blackout was lost at how to approach the situation.
He started with simple stalking. Hard to do, you'd think, what with Blackout's size, but the mech wasn't actually too bad at keeping low when he really needed to. So he hid and studied Rodimus for a quartex or two. The most important thing he discovered: the golden retriever was sad. And it wasn't a simple "oh-I-lost-some-stuff-in-the-move" sadness either.
Rodimus was aching bad and trying to reach out to the autodog had given Blackout the reason why.
"It's not yours, okay?! Now leave me alone!"
That had left the kittycon even more conflicted. The realization that the autodog got his foster sire's affections (for one night, several orns- it didn't matter) filled Blackout with so much rage, he'd thought he would have choked Rodimus right then and there. Yes, he was jealous, but he was all the more disappointed that the lawyer's bornling may not be his own.
He'd started to warm to the idea of a pregnant Rodimus...
But, his or Ultra Magnus', Rodimus was still upset and so Blackout set all of his anger, envy and lust on the back-burner, as he tried to figure out how to make the autodog happy. Because if he could bring some sort of light back to that breaking spark, maybe the autodog would then give him a chance. The panther only hoped giving gifts was the way to do it.
xxXxXxx
"Hey, big guy!"
Blackout looked up from the doorway, staring down the apartment steps to some younger 'bots hanging from the side window of an unmarked, black van. They were vaguely, familiar faces. "Yeah?," the panther gruffed back, not moving from his seat. He didn't feel like getting up if the young cubs were gonna just holler at him.
The driver looked at his buddy, both grinning wide. "We got some 'shopping' to do tonight. Think ya can lend us another servo?," he asked.
Blackout pulled a drag from his cygar in silence for a moment. Normally, he kept himself away from street gangs and wanna-be hustlers, but he was short of some credit again and there was only so many times a thug could mug 'bots before he drew attention to himself. Plus, the last favor he'd done them had gone well.
"Alright," he answered, just when the head hoodlum started to grow impatient. "Am I bootin' it or you giving me a ride?"
The younger kittycon was grinning again. "Wha? Naw! My momma taught me to respect my elders and you're good people, Gramps," the gangster said, to the background chuckle of his homies. "Hop in the back; we'll give you a lift."
It was never smart to get in the back of some van, where who knows how many 'bots could be lying in wait, but Blackout wasn't worried as he headed for the vehicle. He'd already proven he was stronger than the upstart cub and his gang; they wouldn't try something as foolish as a physical assault. Still, the panther kept his guard up, knowing that the punks could try less forcible, under-handed tricks.
"So, rumor on the block is you got a glitch?," said the leader as the older kittycon lumbered into the back. Three other hoodlums moved to give Blackout room.
"What's it to you?," the large mech asked, black tail tensing angrily. He'd grown to really hate 'bots talking about Rodimus and he especially disliked hearing mention of the autodog come from a young gangster's vocalizer.
"You must be real hung up to spend so much credit on a trick," the youth chuckled.
"On a trick, sure," Blackout rumbled, finishing his cygar. He tossed the butt aside somewhere, "But I'll spend as much as I please on pedigree golden retriever. Especially if I claimed him first."
Whistles of awe and a couple passed jeers made their way around the van. The cubs were impressed, if not thrilled, by the idea of a conquered autodog. "You got rich tastes, Gramps," the leader purred, putting the van into motion, "Real swag."
The panther rolled his optical sensors, indifferent.
xxXxXxx
He was going to kill that cat!
Fist shaking, Rodimus glared at the pile of gifts that had been left at his apartment doorstep. As if sporting a growing belly wasn't bad enough, now the kittycon had to announce it to the whole floor that the golden retriever was sparked?! Well, he was having none of it, Rodimus decided, kicking a diaper bin and a gift bag filled with who knew what out of the way as he unlocked his door. All this scrap could stay out here in the meantime for the scavengers and when Blackout showed his ugly mug again, the lawyer would give him a piece of his mind!
"Oh, hey. You're home!"
Speak of Unicron himself...
Rodimus turned and glared at the kittycon squeezing his way down the narrow hall, two boxes under his arms. "What the slag do you think you're doing?!," the autodog demanded.
"Um...," the panther slowed as he neared the smaller 'bot, expression turning thoughtful as he processed the other's rude question, "Well, I thought you'd like some stuff for the lil' one you're gonna be having soon. Set up a nursery and all that."
Rodimus' hackles immediately rose and he pointed violently at the gifts at his pedes as he unleashed his ire at the kittycon. "How many times do I have to say it: my bornling is not yours! It's an autodog -like its sire- so take your slagging 'gifts' and shove off! I don't need you!"
The panther merely scowled, setting down his load for a moment as he picked up the things Rodimus had kicked over earlier. "I get that it's not mine. I ain't sticking around 'cause I think it's mine," the brown mech gruffed. "I'm just figuring you could use some help to get stuff prepared before the bornling comes. I mean, you're gonna have your servos full afterwards as a single mom and all."
The golden retriever wanted to scream something vile at the other mech for the "single parent" comment, but his cruel words were swallowed forcibly as the smaller mech realized that's exactly what he was going to be. How bad of a situation was he in, if even Blackout knew that Rodimus would never contact Ultra Magnus again, kid or no kid? Falling silent with the rising swell of grief, the autodog dropped his helm, all previous fight from him gone.
Blackout noticed and his ears instantly flattened in worry. Hostility he could handle (and kinda liked) from the lawyer; this sadness was an enemy the kittycon seemed unable to defeat and he hated being so helpless. "...I got ya a dual change table-dresser combo," the big thug distractedly said a klik later, reaching for the boxes again, "And I picked up that bassinet you've been eyeing at the store for a while."
Some flicker of life returned to the golden retriever's optics as his gaze slowly rose to meet the brown mech with a glower. "Don't you mean 'stole'?," he quipped dryly.
Blackout scowled lightly. "No, I bought them. With money." Rodimus gave him a look that said he didn't believe the kittycon. "I can work for my cash, you know," the panther added sourly.
"Not honest work, I'm sure," the autodog returned.
Blackout shrugged. "A minor detail. You should let me carry these in for you. They're a lil' heavy."
The golden retriever looked as if he was going to start shouting at the other mech for a moment, but it passed, and Rodimus sighed, entering his apartment without another look at the kittycon. "Just don't scratch the walls!," he shouted back.
The panther's tail swept the floor eagerly as he hurried to grab all his purchases for the smaller mech and head inside.
xxXxXxx
Rodimus didn't know what was becoming of himself.
Sitting alone in a darkening apartment, servos cupping a stuffed rabbit plushie, its black button eyes almost golden in the amber light. There was no good to be found in just sitting about, yet despite his best attempts, the autodog had been unable to do anything but sit all orn. His processor stirred sluggishly with indistinct thoughts, leaving the sparked mech trapped in a silent reverie, with nothing to save him from his isolation. How many times had he stared at this doll before?
Rodimus vented softly. He wasn't certain anymore.
He must of been in the store at least a hundred times before, digging the rabbit out among all the other critters, not sure if he should buy it or not. At the time, he did not know if he'd be keeping the bornling and the golden retriever hadn't wanted to buy an item for a person who may not even exist in a couple weeks. So he'd set the doll down and walked away. He must have done that a dozen times... and then one orn, Rodimus couldn't find the rabbit plushie in the bin, and it felt as if someone had stolen his sparkling from his very body.
Overcome with tears, it had been a nightmare to return home and when the lawyer did, it was to find Blackout at his door -rabbit plushie in the thug's monstrous claws, with a pretty gift bow around its neck. Rodimus had yelled at the kittycon for his unwanted stalking. Of course he had. He said a lot of cruel things that orn. Yet, once the panther had trudged away from his door, the autodog had quickly snatched the plushie off his doorstep; clutching it tightly to his spark as he hurried inside. Having the rabbit doll in his possession eased the ache Rodimus had carried in his chestplates for too long, but he didn't know how to feel about Blackout being the one to give it to him.
In fact, the panther's actions every orn the following several months had Rodimus in a strange predicament, and he didn't like where it left him in confusion and restless emotions. The lawyer had thought anger would deter the kittycon but Blackout had proven again and again that it wasn't enough. Now, Rodimus had a whole nursery prepared for his bornling, every accessory imaginable included, and the autodog was stuck. A small, small part of him had hoped that Ultra Magnus might track him down; apologize for his wrong-doing and take the golden retriever as his own. But... that hadn't happened. Blackout had found him instead. Blackout had given him so many gifts for a sparkling not his own and (so he said) expected nothing in return. Blackout...
A knock at the door startled Rodimus. As if through tar, the mech turned his helm, staring across the apartment to the sound's source. Another hard rap had the autodog rising to his pedes; one servo on the handle as he swung the door open to find Blackout on the other side.
"Hey, I brought you some more onions and chocolate sauce since you seem to...," the panther trailed off, his large brow furrowing as he noticed the strange state Rodimus was in. "Hey, is everything okay?"
The lawyer was mute. He stared up at the kittycon, finding all his former hatred and annoyance and disgust gone when faced with the brown mech. The memories were still there, not to be confused, but it was like all the feeling had bled away. None of it mattered anymore.
"...Rodimus? Hot Rod?"
Blue optics shuttered in slight surprise, unaware of the larger mech leaning in at any point, but now beady, pink orbs gazed into his face with great concern. Pink... huh... He didn't know why he did it, nor would he ever have an answer later, but Rodimus reached out; grasping a fat claw in one servo as he took a weak step back. Blackout followed the autodog's lead without question, taking over when the lawyer could move no more. Switching on lights, the panther chased away the shadows filling the apartment, gently grasping Rodimus' servo as he locked the door behind them both.
C.M.D: ...this is gonna be a long arc... and angsty... Forewarning in advance!
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?