C.M.D: Well it is... late. At least four days later than I usually update. I had a few chapters in the works this month, but at the time of update period, they hadn't been finished. Well, they're finished now and seeing as they're... not... happy... I figure updating later is better than updating next month and depressing my audience of readers right before Christmas. So, please, enjoy this and the extra chapters!

Title: Rodimus III
Rating: T

It was late in the night.

A weary glance at the clock set on the wall across the room, let the golden retriever know that it was well past midnight. Just knowing the time made him vastly aware of how exhausted he was and yet Rodimus couldn't move. Moving meant jostling the tiny bundle in his arms and the autodog just couldn't bear to upset or relinquish this tiny miracle.

And what a miracle the little bornling was. All the pain, all the fears and doubts that had swelled as he faced that critical moment alone in the birthing suite -all of it had vanished the instant he heard the mechling's wailing cry, overcome with spark-aching love for the tiny pup as he was set in his servos for the first time. Intakes hitching again as he recalled this, Rodimus peered at the small face of his son. In the dark, it was nearly hard to make out most of the bornling's features, the exception being his chubby, red cheekplates that made up the majority of his face. Amazed by their size, the lawyer gently stroked down his yellow and blue helm, poking at the soft plating. A small smile quirked on the mech's face at the sensation. It was like pressing on a marshmallow!

The tiny autodog wrinkled his olfactory sensor as Rodimus pressed gently on his cheekplate again; his impossibly small glossa peeking out from his mouth momentarily. Lifting the bornling up higher, the golden retriever placed a soft kiss to his forehelm, nuzzling the mechling as he deeply inhaled his unique scent. "What to name you...?," the red mech mumbled, optics never leaving his son.

For one, odd klik, the autodog thought back on his own creators and his blurry memory of their image. The bornling had a lot of the vibrant yellow colouring that his sire once had, even if the blue (so reminiscent of Ultra Magnus) covered a sizeable amount of his frame as well. What would they say, if they could have been with him here now...?

It was a long wait before Rodimus finally broke from his daze, gracing his son with an adoring smile. "I think I'll name you Hot Shot," he whispered.

Deep in recharge, the newly-christened Hot Shot smiled.

xxXxXxx

A few orns after Hot Shot's birth, Rodimus was discharged from the hospital. Having not had his overnight bag with him at the time he had gone into labour, the only possessions that the autodog took with him as he left were the dirty clothes he had on that orn and the very precious bornling in his arms. If he had being paying attention, Rodimus would have noticed the number of judgmental stares as he headed back to his apartment in an outfit much too baggy now for his thin frame. Of course, he had seen none of this, nor would he have cared about any of it in the end.

The only thing that mattered was the glittering universe he saw when he gazed into those crystal blue optics.

"Welcome home, Hot Shot," he announced, stepping through the doorway of his apartment. The lawyer barely remembered to shut and lock the door behind him as he walked further inside. "I got a surprise for you!"

Walking into the berthroom, Rodimus strode past the crib, change-table and all the toys and clothes Blackout had purchased for the bornling; instead, approaching the berth itself and a certain rabbit plushie left resting on a pillow. Scooping it up with one servo, the golden retriever gently sat down, lifting the doll above his shoulder to show the mechling.

"This is for you," the red mech smiled adoringly, giving the rabbit plushie a little shake. His spark swelled when we saw Hot Shot's optics brighten in delight. "Mommy spent a long time picking it out."

Carefully lowering the doll to the bornling, Rodimus chuckled when little servos grabbed at a purple paw, Hot Shot pulling the rabbit closer to his seeking mouth. "I guess someone's hungry," the autodog said with another laugh, tucking the plushie between the tiny mechling and himself. "I fed you several kliks ago too; you must have a big appetite! Good. You'll grow big and strong."

Getting to his pedes, the lawyer exited the berthroom for the kitchen, speaking softly to the curious Hot Shot the entire way.

xxXxXxx

It was too late to be lurking...

Snorting to himself, the panther lifted the beer bottle to his lip components, fighting to remain upright as he swayed precariously on the spot. The vertigo passed, thankfully, but in the kittycon's ignorance, he had managed to spill some of his drink down his front. Blackout could either not feel it as it soaked his shirt or simply did not care. Swallowing another mouthful of cheap high-grade, the large mech had his optics fixed on the dingy apartment across the street, three floors up and towards the east end. Among a row of darkened windows, one was lit brightly from within, showcasing the faraway frame of a certain red mech and his bornling.

The pup must have been a healthy one for Rodimus to be seen smiling like he was.

Fists clenching tightly, Blackout let the bottle drop back down to his side, suddenly uninterested in it. What he would have given to be up there with the autodog this very moment... His spark withered in his chestplates, causing the panther to cringe as it hurt across his entire neural net. His processor argued why he didn't just storm up to the building, pound on the door until Rodimus opened up and then let himself in. It wasn't like the golden retriever had any strength to remove him once he was inside and it's what Blackout would have done on any other orn.

That was true, the kittycon conceded to the little vocalizer in his helm, but this was not 'any other orn.' This was now, and that was Magnus' pup up there, being cradled and smiled at lovingly while his carrier gave him his nightly bottle. Rodimus didn't want him... Slag, the autodog didn't even need him.

There would be no place for the thug if he went up there. The only person who'd be put off by that decision would ultimately be himself.

Glancing at the unfinished bottle still in his claws, Blackout tossed it somewhere off into the street, the sound of it shattering echoing loudly. He didn't care. Fists sinking into his coat pockets, the kittycon turned about and slunk miserably off into the night.

xxXxXxx

"C-coming... Coming!," the autodog called at another urgent rap at the door. Wiping the last of the sleep from his optics, Rodimus stumbled for the door, clumsily pulling his night shirt around so it rested properly along his torso. The autodog slagging near growled when the knock became a thunderous pounding on the door. After a long night with Hot Shot, the last thing the mech needed was some idiot waking the finally-recharing bornling.

"Yes?," Rodimus demanded a little testily, swinging the door open wide. Half-expecting his early morning guest to be Blackout, the golden retriever was caught off-guard by the sight of a smartly dressed mech and two enforcers standing outside.

"Are you a Mr. Rodimus Magnus?," the briefcase-carrying autodog asked.

"Y-yes, um," the lawyer stuttered, optics flaring in panic as the stranger gestured for the two enforcers to enter, "No, w-wait! Y-you can't come in!"

The stouter of the pair turned to Rodimus as he tried to block their path, grabbing the red mech by the collar of his night shirt and shoving him against the adjacent wall. Glancing to ensure his partner was okay, the second enforcer continued on to the golden retriever's room, just as Hot Shot began to wail within.

"G-Get out of my room!," Rodimus snarled, twisting and clawing to get free from his captor.

"Please Mr. Rodimus," the third mech sighed, snapping open his briefcase and pulling out an envelope, "If you would refrain from violence, this all will go a lot easier for you."

"What gives you the right to storm into my home and go through my private things?!," the lawyer snarled, again struggling to buck free. The enforcer merely tightened their grip, almost pressing their entire frame against Rodimus to keep him in place. "It is against the law for you to trespass on my dwelling without-"

"This is not a criminal search, Mr. Rodimus," the autodog interjected, his expression pulling downwards with a frown. "This is in fact a summons."

At that instant, the second enforcer exited from the berthroom, a diaper bag over his shoulder and an upset bornling in his arms. Immediately, ice filled the golden retriever's energon lines and terror seized his spark, realizing what was happening. "N-no... NO!," he screamed, fighting madly. His enforcer squeezed even tighter, twisting one arm as a means to subdue the distraught carrier. To no avail. "P-please, no!"

"You have been summoned," the third autodog continued, waving the envelope in emphasis, "To appear tomorrow in Iacon court for the review of your custodial rights in regards to one autodog Hot Shot-"

"D-don't take him from me! PLEASE!"

"Failure to appear will result in the automatic surrender of your guardianship role over the bornling. You may seek legal aid for the hearing, or, as another route, you may represent yourself. It is advised that you do prepare in advance so you may best represent your case to the overseeing judge. At the end of the trial-"

S-stop! LET ME GO!," Rodimus screamed as the first enforcer carried his son out the door. "LET GO!"

"-you shall be informed of a number of options that may apply to you and the final ruling," the now-recognized social worker continued. "In the meantime, your sparkling will be under the protection of the state authorities and placed in a temporary home, where he will be cared for and looked after. An update on his status can be provided for you in court the following orn and for all other questions and support, please refer to the resources listed in here."

Setting the envelope down on the kitchen counter top, the autodog took a moment to look around the apartment, before finally turning to the bereaved lawyer. "That will be all for today, Mr. Rodimus. Thank you for your cooperation and have a lovely afternoon," he said, smiling tightly and exiting the apartment.

The second enforcer waited a total of two kliks before he stepped back and released the sobbing autodog, closing the door behind him as he too left. With nothing to hold him up against gravity, Rodimus sank to the floor, doubling over as his whole frame shook with despair. "M-my ba-baby...," he keened, servos cupped before his chestplates as if to catch the broken pieces of his spark.

In the absence of any other sound, his wails echoed all around him.

xxXxXxx

Servos shook as the autodog entered the small court room, fuel tanks roiling so bad that he was certain that he would purge right then and there. He shouldn't even have to be here... Optics fixed on the judge's podium to steady his pedes, Rodimus walked up the couple rows of pews, still tamping down the need to empty his tanks. He was uncertain if he should be glad that this case was being meted out in private court, then ultimately decided that any scenario that didn't involve him, happy and at home with his baby in his arms, was a loathsome one.

Sitting at the table designated for the defendant, the golden retriever tried to relax, fiddling with his briefcase to pass the time. Never had there been a more difficult task. Exhaustion crept up on the mech, threatening to undo him. He hadn't slept at all the night before, unable to stifle the terror at suddenly being all alone. This trial needed to end soon, so the autodog could have his bornling back... Thankfully, it wasn't too much longer before the courtroom doors opened again behind him; turning to face the monster who would ever dare to try and take his son away from him, Rodimus felt his spark torn from his chestplates twice in two orns.

"This way, sir," a black femme addressed, pulling out a chair for her companion. Her name came to the golden retriever immediately and he knew he was in trouble. Blackarachnia was considered tyrannical in family court. Callous towards her clients, the other lawyer still had a hundred percent success rate. She never failed to win.

Fighting for his son would be a struggle with her alone.

Fighting for Hot Shot against Ultra Magnus...?

Optics heating as coolant began to fill them, Rodimus almost missed the bailiff's entry announcement of the presiding Judge. Everyone was quick to stand. "You may be seated," the old femme said as she took her seat. Fixing her glasses, she glanced at the files upon her desk, lip components pursing as she read over the contents. "So Mr. Magnus..."

Both mechs looked up.

"Mr. Rodimus," she corrected, staring at the younger autodog over the rim of her spectacles. "You have been summoned here today, at the request of Mr. Ultra Magnus, to determine whom the rightful guardianship of the pup, Hot Shot, shall fall to. You are representing yourself, I presume?"

"Y-yes...," the red mech answered, choking on his suddenly dry mouth, "Yo-your honor."

"Please present your case," the judge beckoned, her servos resting on the desk as she waited.

"I-i.." Rodimus stood weakly, fingers failing the first couple times to open the briefcase. He was trying so hard to keep his composure but his intakes were getting tighter and his processor kept blanking in grief. Why was Ultra Magnus here? What was he hoping to gain by this cruelty? Files scattered from the lawyer's grip, his servos trembling so badly, and in a panic he shoved them unceremoniously back into the file folder he'd first put them, carrying them to the bench in haste. "Y-you honor, these are l-legal documents detailing my current life," he explained. "Employment verification, annual income, housing situation, criminal records, medical history a-and um, pictures, o-of the living arrangements I have set up for my son at home."

"Thank you, Mr. Rodimus," the femme said, her attention already on the papers in her servos. "Please take a seat."

Rodimus did so quickly, keeping his optics glued to the table top as he waited. He could not, for the life of him, look at the other mech seated but a few feet away from himself.

"Well, it seems that you are financially and socially stable to support this bornling, Mr. Rodimus. Does your client have grounds of a rebuttal, Ms. Blackarachnia?," the Judge asked, glancing at the other lawyer.

"Indeed, your honor," the femme smiled shortly. With much more confidence than the golden retriever had, she withdrew her case files from her briefcase, strutting across the court room and handing the papers off surely. "Though Mr. Rodimus' information is technically correct, I'm afraid that he is failing to characterize to you who he really is."

"You mean...," the older femme scowled, "He is lying?"

"Merely omitting some crucial facts, your honor, but that can be construed as lying by many," Blackarachnia smiled.

Fixing a displeased look on the red mech, the Judge gestured towards the other lawyer. "Continue."

"First and foremost," the black femme began, bringing out her own copy of files, "The pup Hot Shot's creators are depicted as both Mr. Rodimus himself and my client on his birth documentation -a copy of which is included in the folder before you- but my client had no prior acknowledge of the bornling nor did he consent to being listed as his sire in the registry."

"Secondly, the vet's calculated date of conceiving can be traced back to last year, when Mr. Rodimus and my client were in disagreement over irrelevant, private matters. This argument disrupted Mr. Rodimus' home and work life, in turn affecting my own client negatively. By his admittance, he took to drinking often after hours as a means to handle his frustration; enough so that many of those nights he can not recall. This went on for a month, until Mr. Rodimus suddenly disappeared one day, taking his few possessions with him," Blackarachnia explained, flipping a page. "Hot Shot's relation to Mr. Magnus, who has never had sexual interactions with Mr. Rodimus before, sadly shows that Mr. Rodimus took advantage of my client during one of his inebriated states, becoming sparked and fleeing criminal prosecution as a result."

"No! I did not!," Rodimus yelled, snapping from his trance in outrage. He glared at Blackarachnia as he slammed the table with both fists, shaking from pede to helm. "That is a lie!"

"Mr. Rodimus!"

"He came onto me! I-i didn't rape him!," the golden retriever continued.

The Judge slammed her gavel on the bench angrily, cutting the red mech's tirade short. "Mr. Rodimus, did you or did you not interface with Mr. Magnus while he was inebriated?"

"B-bu-but-"

"Answer the question!"

Swallowing past the thick knot in his neck cables, Rodimus dropped his helm wretchedly. "Y...yes, your honor."

"Sit down," she snapped. "Now, your...," the Judge paused, quickly sorting through the documents, "There is no legal paperwork indicating the charges applied, Mr. Magnus."

"If I may, your honor," the great dane spoke up lowly, "I did not file a sexual assault report against Mr. Rodimus because of my history with him. Despite his actions, I carry no animosity towards him. I realize that refusing to seek legal action was an error on my part."

"And what history is that, Mr. Magnus?," the older femme asked, clearly irritated at this point.

"If I may, your honor," Blackarachnia spoke up this time, "I would gladly continue from this point." Waiting until she got the all clear, the lawyer smiled, jumping to a couple documents further back in the folder. "Provided at the back for your honor, is a police statement from two decades ago. It was almost impossible to retrieve via public records, as is quickly understood, for the file showcases that Mr. Rodimus was placed in Mr. Magnus' care under the Witness Protection act. Once known as Hot Rod, due to the mysterious disappearance of both of his creators and the suspected ties to some of Cybertron's dark crime world, Mr. Rodimus -a sparkling at the time- was left in my client's charge and given a new identity. As the case is still unsolved, Mr. Rodimus has grown up under this alias, and as should be obvious during these proceedings, still identifies by the new moniker."

"Which brings me to my third and final point," the femme said, turning to the horror-stricken autodog. "This new job, apartment, bank account... All of these are listed under a 'Hot Rod', Mr. Rodimus' original name. But since this identity has not be cleared by the enforcers', all of the identification Mr. Rodimus has used to validate his claims has been gained through illegal channels. This includes, but is not limited to: birth certificates, medical documentation, driver's licenses, academy degrees, state bar license, etc etc."

Going through the pages one by one, the Judge eventually came to a stop, servos folding before herself as she vented heavily. "Do you have any further evidence to present, Ms. Blackarachnia?"

"No, your honor," the femme smiled politely, still standing.

"Very well..." Rodimus watched as the Judge lifted her mallet, holding back tears as he desperately prayed for favor. How Blackarachnia had ever found out so much about him, the golden retriever did not know, but he knew slagging well how it made him look. "In light of Mr. Rodimus' grievous transgressions and his clear disregard for his son's and his own personal safety, the court rules that guardianship fall to the sire, Mr. Magnus," the Judge announced.

"NO!," the red mech cried, jumping to his pedes a second time.

"At this time, I am requesting that a full investigation be performed on Mr. Rodimus and denying all visitation rights meanwhile. No appeal will be permitted until the enforcers' report has been submitted for the court's review, after which any changes can be brought back before the court again," the old femme added loudly, ignoring the autodog.

"P-please!," Rodimus begged, unable to keep the tears back any longer as the Judge rose from the bench, "Pl-puh-please! That i-is my bornling. YOU CAN'T TAKE H-HIM AWAY FR-FROM ME!" She wasn't looking at him. The distraught lawyer foolishly tried to rush the older femme, but was intercepted by the bailiff and wrestled out of the court room. Thrown to the floor, Rodimus did not bother getting up, face folded into his knees as he wept over his shattered spark.

"-will bring Hot Shot to your residence once we meet with the social worker and wrap up the paperwork," Blackarachnia was saying, strutting from out of the court room a klik after. "If you're ready, we'll -Mr. Magnus?"

Hearing the heavy pedes draw up to his side, the red mech wiped at his face hastily; fixing angry optics on the great dane as he deemed it appropriate to kneel beside the smaller autodog. "Rodimus, I...," Ultra Magnus sighed, pausing when he noticed the other's rancor. If he was aiming for sympathy, his wide, baffled optics ruined the effect.

"Leave me alone...," the golden retriever snarled lowly.

"Rodimus," the blue mech whispered, "He is my son."

"Don't act as if you actually want him! You didn't even want me!," the other autodog shouted.

"Control yourself!," Ultra Magnus snapped, losing his patience a little. "Rodimus with the way you've been acting, this is really for the best. Can't you see that I'm just trying to help y-"

Hearing the same statements he'd had to suffer for stellar cycles on end, following a decision that robbed him off his month-old bornling, was too much. Outrage and pain bled away to a mindless agony, causing Rodimus to lunge forward suddenly, howling as he reached for those slagging optics. A black heel cut off his course of action, knocking the golden retriever's fist to the floor and pinning it there by the wrist.

"Now, now, Mr. Rodimus," Blackarachnia cooed from above the snarling mech. One servo on her hip, the femme wasn't even paying attention to the feral mech, too engrossed in her cellphone. "I don't think you want to be adding assault to your record during this delicate time. And Mr. Magnus, the car is waiting. I suggest we leave now."

The great dane, having fallen back on his aft at the unexpected attack, could only shutter his optics dumbly up at the femme for a moment. Eventually, a mask of resignation covered Ultra Magnus' face and he climbed back onto his pedes, dusting himself off quickly. "Please lead the way, Ms. Blackarachnia," he requested, turning his back to Rodimus.

Content with the course of action, Blackarachnia slid her phone back out of sight, guiding the older mech towards the exit. As they walked away, she could be heard softly discussing Hot Shot's move into the autodog's home. From his spot still on the floor, the golden retriever could only watch them go, the colour of his optics dimming as his spark withered ever smaller.

xxXxXxx

In a haze, Rodimus made his way home. He was uncertain of how he did so, the memory of the return trip lost somewhere in those few cycles. All he knew was that suddenly he was standing before his apartment door, and outside, night had fallen.

Mechanically, the autodog withdrew his keys from his coat, unlocking the door and entering inside. With his back to the rest of the room, he removed his outdoor articles, stored them away in the closet and hung his keys on a little hook behind the front door. When he turned around, the red mech was surprised by the chaos waiting for him.

Optics roamed from one end of the living room to the next, taking in the scattering of toys, blankets, pacifiers and bottles. There were so many items that they left an unruly trail to the berthroom, puzzling the distant lawyer further. The quantity with which the mess overran his home suggested that something was missing...

In silence, Rodimus headed for the berthroom, stripping off his suit jacket and pulling the loose tie free. He stopped, just short of the doorway, frozen by the sight of a bassinet, a diaper bin, a bornling plushie on the rumpled berth, a set of tiny clothes laid out for the orn before...

His vents seized, choking as he fell sideways into the doorframe, desperately trying to cycle an intake and gasping weakly instead. It was then that his olfactory sensor faintly picked up Hot Shot's scent -so fresh and innocent- the sound of his poor bornling's cries filling his helm. He rushed, in a trance, for the bassinet to rescue his pup, only to find nothing there and silence surrounding him. His helm tipping back with an anguished yowl, Rodimus crumpled over the bassinet, weeping loudly.

He was gone. Hot Shot was gone.

H-help...

The golden retriever felt scraping claws grip around his spark, yanking and tearing until he could feel nothing inside. An emptiness reflected by the lonesome shadows filling his apartment. The autodog managed another wail, his chestplates restricting around his struggling intakes.

So-someone... please...

Someone had stolen his bornling from him.

...dy-dying...

He was never getting him back.

Servos trembling, Rodimus dug through the bassinet, momentarily believing in his grief-stricken processor that the mechling was merely hidden away under the blankets. But in the end, the mech only held swaths of cotton in both palms, pressing the scent-enriched material to his torso as he stared brokenly into the padded bottom. It could not fill the cavernous hole where his son once settled.

C.M.D: I said this would be an angsty one... Anyhow, another chapter waiting up ahead! Also, check out my newest fic: Whiskers and Paws -the final installment of compiled autodog/kittycon tales. It'll contain any extra stories that I won't be able to fit here without exceeding the fifty chapter cap.
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?