I live!
And man, what a couple of months! Ended up on a couch for a week, then my wonderful aunt's for a month after a plumbing disaster was just barely caught in time! Turns out the bathroom connected to my bedroom had sprung a leak from the second floor and was seriously within weeks of bringing the entire thing down on top of me. So it had to be completely gutted and dried out, which left me homeless for a bit.
Then so much family drama...really brings home that family doesn't mean being related, cherish the people who lift you up and support you unconditionally okay you guys?
And my brother bought a collection dvd set of TF Armada which was such a nostalgia rush. I used to watch that shitty cartoon every day when I was super young. I didn't realize just where my fondness for psycho Megatron came from until I watched it again, still my favorite character. He's just so bitchy, I love it.
Anyways I've tortured you guys enough with that cliffhanger, hope you like how it turns out!
"No, it's not."
The silence that echoed throughout the partially underground hangar was deafening. Time had frozen over the agonizing seconds Dr. Monroe revealed just how much of a freak Harry truly was, even the beat of cold panic under his spark seemed trapped in the moment without any sign of dissipating.
Imprisoned in that same moment, none of the Autobots reacted either. Staring down at the humans with wide, motionless optics like incredibly elaborate decor pieces.
Hours later, years even, if Harry could tell time by the tension in the air alone, Jazz spoke.
"Heh, you expectin' us to believe that kinda bullshit? What- did you make a fraggin' sparkling out of spare parts lyin' around?"
No one corrected Jazz's language, barely booting back up, their processors audibly humming on a frequency Harry didn't think he'd be able to hear with human ears.
-She's right.- Harry admitted in a wisp of a transmission, buggy with shame and fear.
All the Autobots received it, they turned to him as one.
Harry flinched away from their burning, infinitely baffled gazes, he pulled his knees up from where they had been pressed greedily against Ratchet.
"No, your Allspark made it with certain...spare parts lying around." Monroe corrected haughtily, pulling an electronic tablet from her entourage to fiddle with.
-What do you mean, little one?- Prime prompted softly, completely ignoring the scientist in favor of roving over Harry's form over and over as if that would grant him the answers he sought.
Harry grimaced under his mouth plate. -I'm not- I-I wasn't- I'm sorry. My parents weren't robots.-
-Did some humans take you in after you were sparked?- Ironhide asked, thinly veiled disbelief in his tone.
-I-I mean, the cube made me like this. I w-wasn't born like this.- It was hard to get out. Harry hardly understood it, but he knew he wasn't really one of them. A fake without any way to turn back, freaky Harry who looked like a robot but couldn't even do that right.
"Here- this was being investigated in a different department from mine, but with the...drastic loss in personnel...I managed to gather most of their findings. The NBEP-00 was created independently from your kind, the cube made it from mostly human organic materials."
Dr. Monroe interrupted Harry's clumsy confession to hold up the tablet for all to see. In the little glowing screen was a picture of the base of the Allspark.
There was a darkened, sooty stain there, shaped in a curve, with brown flaking smears surrounding the lumpy patch of black. Harry blinked, a little confused.
"What's this supposed to be?" Optimus Prime asked coolly.
"The remains of one Harry James Potter." Monroe shot back.
-W-wha-
"The investigation wasn't complete, but I believe this ten-year-old boy somehow intruded into Sector Seven and touched the cube. This is all that was left of him, but next to this we recovered the NBEP-00, what the cube made out of a human body."
Bumblebee made a retching sound, taking a step back. Ironhide had a similar look of disgust.
"The Allspark wasn't designed like that. It doesn't work like- it certainly wouldn't destroy a sentient lifeform to create another autonomously."
"Wait a nanoclick-" Ratchet finally spoke, plucking Harry from his shoulder to carry him to eye level. Comprehension dawned on his face, followed so swiftly by confusion and incredulity that Harry had no doubt he'd reached the correct conclusion. "Harry-"
-I'm Harry Potter.- He confirmed grimly, splayed in the curve of Ratchet's servos. Completely helpless and filled with nothing but lies, all Harry could do was sit under the Autobots' stare and submit to their condemnation.
"That's impossible," Ironhide huffed, "Organic matter is completely incompatible, the Allspark would have next to nothing to work with."
Optimus stared blankly at Harry. When he spoke, he did so slowly, as though guilty just by following along. "You may not remember, Ironhide, it's been more orns than worth counting since any of us have last seen a sparkling. But...Harry is underdeveloped and sparsely designed, even for a potential seeker."
He stretched out one massive servo toward Harry, digits splayed.
Harry ducked away with a whine, kicking to scoot backward on Ratchet's palm. What would Optimus do? Would he be torn apart just to see what the cube did to every inch of him? Crushed for his omission? Or simply turned over to Monroe and all her experimentation?
None of those things happened, at least at the moment. Optimus didn't move after the noise escaped Harry's vocal processor, melancholy in his optics and indecision on his face plates.
Finally, he simply pointed at Harry, centered over his chest as he lifted his optics to Ratchet instead.
It didn't escape Harry that Ratchet hadn't tried to soothe him, sending a bolt of true terror through his system, as chilling as the liquid nitrogen they used under the dam.
"I've never seen a Cybertronian with plating so thin you could see their spark through their armor," Optimus continued, "Even during the final days of Cybertron, those few sparklings still functioning had thicker armor by far."
Harry couldn't help it, he hunched over his chest and the light socketed at his center. He'd sort of liked the light when he wasn't actively thinking about how deep it was in his frame, but now whatever protectiveness he felt toward the vital component felt poisoned with his own self-disgust.
Different, ugly, fake in every sense of the word.
"You sayin' you believe this crazy slagger?" Jazz hissed, offense written clearly in his expression.
Bumblebee added his own thoughts over a transmission. -It...does make sense. He knows next to nothing about us or even himself, plus the Allspark is already behaving oddly around him with the whole piggy-back thing.-
-It's true. I-I was a boy on a tour of the dam and then the...Allspark did something- spoke to me. It told me it would change me for something, and- and then it did.- Harry couldn't hold back a tremor at the memory he tried to hard not to reflect on. The all-encompassing presence pinning him in place like an insect, the burning pain, the voice that wasn't so much a voice as a thunderous sea of intent pressing its wishes into his head.
-And I woke up like this. In a box, and I wasn't me anymore. I d-don't know what- I don't know how it happened- I'm sorry.-
And he was. He was so, so sorry. Sorry he was there, sorry the cube had done this to him, sorry the Autobots had ever laid optics on his monstrous body. Sorry he even existed, nothing but a freakish lie of a shell for the freakish boy inside. He'd even tricked Lord Megatron looking as he did, and for what? All that awaited him was experimentation or a life completely and utterly alone. If Ratchet didn't just drop him from his hand right now to smack against the concrete so far below, that is.
-I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so-orry. I'm sorry.- A litany of apologies poured from his mouth plate like a bleeding wound, useless and unsightly but there was no way to stem it. Nothing else to do but say sorry and pray they let him go. -I'm sorry. I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry.-
"Fascinating. Are you all communicating subvocally or through some non-auditory means? I'll have fun figuring out how that works." She actually took the time to start tapping rapidly on the tablet, glancing up a few times as though peering through a microscope, as though looking at moving, talking data.
Even as she spoke to the Autobots, it was blindingly obvious she didn't consider them to be anything but future material for her own experiments. Harry shuddered.
-So...are there really no sparklings left? Did Bumblebee swipe some human's offspring?- Jazz directed toward Prime, though it was universally accessible.
-I'm so confused, does that mean we really are stealing Harry?- Bumblebee whined, also staring up beseechingly at Prime.
He didn't answer, didn't even look at them. Prime was instead watching Harry, feature carefully schooled into neutrality.
Once Monroe was finished, she tucked the tablet under an arm. "Now hand over the NBEP-00, you have no claim to federal property. I can't guarantee your treaty will remain intact if I must report your refusal to comply." Dr. Monroe lifted a hand in the Autobots' direction, and it might've looked politely expectant on anyone else. But with sharp teeth, glinting eyes, and ashen skin under the gleam of sweat, the woman looked half delirious with greed and hunger.
And Harry, guilty and undeserving of any pity from the Autobots, couldn't hold back the dark torrent of fear that pressed down so hard on his chest anymore. Weak and miserable and seeing nothing but clear plastic prisons and ice in his future, he started to cry.
They weren't the loud sobs and shrieks that usually escaped his vocal processor unwillingly, he choked them down as best he could. There was no point in crying, no fluttery panic, just dread and fear. He whittled the whimpers down to hiccups and short bursts of high, jagged keens.
-So-sorry- He tried to keep transmitting, but it was near incomprehensible at that point.
Once more, a silence flooded through the hangar, thinning the air of any readable emotion.
Harry bit down on a wheezing cry, muffling it behind his mouth plate, shivers wracked up his frame, the rattling of metal against metal joining his soft cries in the deathly quiet of the room.
Harry was shaking so hard he was nearly dislodged from Ratchet's servos, it was at its very worst under his folded legs. The tremors shook him like a brittle tree in the midst of an earthquake.
But wait, that didn't make sense. Why was he shaking from underneath himself? Why didn't he feel the motion flashing involuntarily throughout his internal system?
Confused, Harry looked down at his shaking servos pressed flat against Ratchet's plating, colorless fluid silver against dark roughened grey. They were clanging against each other, but it wasn't right, it didn't look like it should've. Harry watched for a moment before he realized what was different, it wasn't Harry that was causing it.
Ratchet was trembling.
Startled, Harry's optic flew up to the Autobot's face.
Ratchet was gazing down at him, his own optics round and a glassy light blue, not quite as bright as before. Something was wrong, he looked stunned and almost...empty. A tragic sort of sorrow seemed to consume his entirety.
"I'm waiting." Dr. Monroe reminded the lot of them, and Harry cringed away from her voice. Still, he kept his attention fixed on Ratchet, was he hurt?
A soft, questioning chirp came from Harry, he smoothed his servo over Ratchet's. Far too small to be soothing, but it was all he had.
"Ratchet...it's not…" Jazz sounded strangled.
"I know." Ratchet hissed, more like a wounded animal than an alien robot.
Harry was at a loss, stretched thin on his own fear and misery, but scrambling to find out what was hurting his favorite Autobot so badly. The others seemed affected as well, but it was clearly Ratchet who was taking it the hardest.
Ratchet hadn't comforted Harry when Prime scared him, still kept him a little further out from his body than he usually would. But...how could Harry ignore him? The warmest cuddliest Autobot by far. The one who had given him so much care and consideration when Harry was alone among enemies and kept from Lord Megatron.
Even if it was no longer mutual, Harry wanted Ratchet to smile that awkward smile again.
Slinking an arm around Ratchet's thumb for leverage, Harry reached out to touch the armor of his gauntlet. It was far too big for Harry to hold, glittering with technological dials and sensors and roughly the circumference of a car, so he could only press his servo all the closer and awkwardly hope a little of his own warmth might comfort Ratchet in some way.
His own sobs were coming slower now, reduced to ringing spasms up his throat and stress buzzing in his helm. They were easier to muffle and Harry quieted himself, directing a worried warble toward Ratchet.
Deep, dark wells of sadness looked down on him, roving over his frame slowly, zealously.
"Am I scaring you, little one?" He asked so softly the humans below definitely couldn't catch it.
With the servo Harry wasn't clinging to, he stroked down Harry's helm and spine unsteadily, but lightly enough that the tremors didn't knock him over. "I'm sorry."
-Are you okay?- Harry asked, calm enough to use his comm unit again. With Ratchet anchoring him down, his attention and affection returned, the despair crushing him into nothing was much easier to ignore.
He didn't respond verbally, merely dipping his helm a fraction as he continued stroking Harry like he was the only one tying Ratchet down to sanity and not the other way around.
So alarming was Ratchet's pain that Harry hadn't even noticed Prime's gaze remained steadily locked on him until the titanic Autobot turned back to Dr. Monroe.
There was a purposeful weightiness to the simple movement, as though something had been decided, concluded in that instant. Harry couldn't guess what, though, he could only watch Prime as he spoke with the humans.
"Who are the humans you've brought here? Are any of them your superior?" He asked, rigid and unreadable as a mountainside.
She blinked, arm dropping back to her side. Slowly, the scientist turned to glance at her silent, wide-eyed entourage.
"No," Monroe replied slowly, "the team assigned to me comprises of my surviving assistants and peers reassigned to my project with their own regrettably lost to the attack. I remain team leader of this project."
Ice speared into Harry's joints, crystallizing under his plating and freezing him in place. Was Optimus going to give him up now? Was Harry going to be hosed down again, for who knew how long? He gave his own shiver, was this how he was going to die?
-You're not really gonna send Harry back to them, are you?- Bumblebee demanded over transmission, whirring with alarm, -You can't!-
Ratchet...took a step away from Prime and the humans, servos enfolding Harry near lovingly, carefully detaching him from his gauntlet. Ironhide followed the same bizarre pulse, shifting his deadly, hulking frame between Ratchet and the others as a living barrier, now fully blocking Ratchet off from both his comrades and the humans, arms loose at his side.
-Stand down, fraggers.- Jazz hissed, but neither the second-in-command nor the Autobot leader appeared affected by splintering across their unit, completely unruffled.
"Then I will direct this to you, Dr. Monroe, to deliver to your superiors at a later time," Prime continued, optics twin stars, distant and unfeeling.
"Though the NBEP-00 may have been created through organic material from Earth, Cybertron and its people claim it as one of our own. And you'll find that regardless of any scientific interest you and yours may have, you are fiercely outmatched in desire above all else. Deliver to your superiors this question; are they prepared to find different allies to fight alongside them when combating Decepticons? Are they prepared to enter combat against Autobots and Decepticons for the sake of the NBEP-00?"
Never had Prime appeared more alien, huge and unspeakably ancient. The foreign sigils scratched across his armor seemed to shimmer in the dim fluorescent light, the red and blue paint seemed to fade away, the bright colors draining to reveal the strange electric creature waiting just beneath. He stood hulking and timeless over the tiny, squishy humans, utterly still and controlled and different in a way his bipedal form made easier to overlook when he cloaked it in slow and gentle human mannerisms.
There was no gentleness in his face now.
"How much else are ya willin' ta lose over trappin' another Cybertronian, huh?" Jazz grinned, a predatory baring of sharp denta. He very purposefully looked over Dr. Monroe and her numerous, painful wounds.
The acrid scent of sweat filled the hangar as the humans below blanched bone white, a few even skittered back behind Jacob's soldiers.
Dr. Monroe recoiled as if bitten, hunching over her bandages. She chewed furiously at her lip for a long moment, greed and self-preservation warring behind her glasses.
"M-my superiors may have been mistaken, they were under the impression Autobots were more honorable than Decepticons. That's a bold message, but I wonder if you'll stick to it when you face becoming refugees on a planet that knows how savage you truly are. You are outnumbered, a war would exterminate you." She growled eventually.
Jacobs' nostrils flared and she shot Dr. Monroe a glare. "Suggesting the US go to war-"
"Why not? It would be faster than trying to negotiate with an alien species more useful on ice than allowed military space," Monroe didn't take her eyes off Prime, "Continue making outlandish demands and you'll find yourself facing annihilation before you could flee the atmosphere. Only one of us is invested in keeping the NBEP-00 functional, you know."
A wild tempest flared within Prime, his whole body tensed, leaning forward that slightest centimeter. Drawn like the tide, Ironhide, Bumblebee, and Jazz did the same. "Threatening a sparkling-"
"Is completely out of her jurisdiction and not something anyone from Sector Seven has the power to make good on." A man's voice rang out, a clear bell above the abrasive tension of the hangar.
Dr. Monroe whirled around to scowl at the intruder, a dark-eyed man with closely cropped hair and weary lines of exhaustion scoring his face. He was in an American army uniform and closely followed by a stocky black man in similar garb and-
"How did you get in? Nobody's supposed to be here~" Bumblebee belted out in greeting, optics lighting up once those two teenagers from before scuttled in nervously after the soldiers.
"Kids wouldn't stop bugging me about checking up on you, seemed to think one or two Sector Seven goons might try screwing up the treaty." The man sighed grouchily, but the piercing gleam of his eyes centered solely on Monroe gave a different impression.
"Are you even cleared to interfere on this base? Sector Seven is the US' greatest insight on extraterrestrials, I have every reason to be here handling a case of stolen property." Dr. Monroe barked.
"This is Major Lennox, he was promoted just yesterday for his efforts saving the president's life at the dam and securing the outskirts of Tranquility during the fight with the tank Decepticon." Jacobs introduced with a catty twist to her lips.
"The president has also granted me higher clearance on negotiations than they'd ever give to a single Sector Seven scientist," He swaggered in between the scientists and the Autobots, "And I can tell you no one in the higher-ups is eager to lose the Autobots as allies, especially over a pet project related to the one that destroyed most of Sector Seven's main base of operations."
Dr. Monroe went red, lip curling in derision. "What, you think because you got a little tour of the dam you know all there is on our operations? How many 'higher-ups' hold interest in our projects? You don't know a thing."
Lennox made a show of rolling his eyes at Prime, as though sharing in a joke. Prime's pauldrons sank half an inch, though he didn't otherwise react to the disarming behavior.
"All I know is that you're gonna need to hightail it out of here and cry to someone with a higher rank than you if you want to even be brought up during meetings, now get out of here before I report directly to the president about your attempts at sabotage."
Dr. Monroe limped out of the hangar with all the resentful submission of a beaten stray, curled taut with outrage. But not before she looked up, over Prime's shoulder and to Harry, still nestled in Ratchet's servos.
None of the hunger had left her gaze, none of the promise. He knew without a doubt that she would return, as many times as it took to get him back on ice and in a box. Silhouetted against the outdoor spotlights, a pitch creature lit only by the shine of her glasses, Dr. Monroe looked like a monster prepared to do her own Harry Hunting.
Then she looked away and disappeared through the door, spell broken. A dozen people in suits trailing timidly behind, so much wanner with their thin backs turned.
"I'll escort Dr. Monroe to the edge of the base, when I return I expect you to have a real explanation for why you've arrived so early, Major Lennox." Jacobs didn't look at Lennox, already headed out herself along with her own straight-faced soldiers.
"Yes, Lieutenant colonel sir." Lennox gave a half-hearted salute that earned him a kick from the black man at his side.
Then it was just the Autobots, those two teenagers, and Lennox and the other soldier in the expansive hangar base, the air seemed thinner with so much aggression falling away so quickly.
-Th-thank you.- Harry whispered begrudgingly, wings twitching apprehensively on his back as he faced Prime. -I'm sorry I lied.-
He felt like jelly, relief sending weakness through all his joints. Harry had been so sure he was going to leave with Dr. Monroe, positive he'd see the inside of a box regardless of whether any of the Autobots protested or if Lord Megatron eventually saved him. Even now it was difficult convincing all of himself that he was safe and sound with Ratchet still.
"I'm sorry I scared you so, little one," Optimus murmured, turning away from Bumblebee and the teenagers as they chatted rapidly with each other to fully face Harry.
"I meant what I said, regardless of your origin, you are a precious child of my race. And no child should be subject to experimentation."
Harry knew better than to ask questions, but the uncertainty and doubt took control of his vocal processor. -B-but I'm not. One of you, I mean. Why would you want to keep a freak like me around? I'm fake.-
"Because you're not either of those things. You aren't a human any longer, there's nothing false about your appearance. You have as much right to your inheritance as any who walked Cybertron. You are a gift. Why the Allspark chose to change you and how are still mysteries, but your worth is not." Optimus said this all with passionate certainty, as if Harry's status could never be in question.
Able and fitting, a gift, little one, the Allspark had once whispered in his ear. For a moment, heat beat like a drum behind his spark. Was this what it had meant?
Harry wasn't sure if it was from curiosity or daring, but he still had to hear more. -You mean all of it? You think I can be a real Cybertronian? Like you? You really still want me? Or Lord Megatron?- Harry still thought Optimus was mean, but if he really meant was he was saying, really wanted Harry to stay, would it be so impossible for Lord Megatron to feel the same way?
Something in Optimus softened, though Harry couldn't place what. "Of course I do, Harry. You're a Cybertronian, anyone would be lucky to have you as their charge."
"Impossibly, disgustingly lucky." Ironhide murmured wryly.
"So lucky ya might as well jump in a wormhole and find an untapped energon mine next." Jazz followed with a snort.
Optimus reached out a servo again, slow and careful. The intent was clear on his face, the exact same expression Ratchet wore when he really wanted to cuddle Harry.
This time, Harry didn't flinch away.
"So your full designation is Harry James Potter?"
When Harry tilted his head shyly, Ironhide appeared thoughtful. "Suppose that's why your designation is so weird, it's a human name."
"How old were you before the Allspark...changed you?" Ratchet asked softly, servos outstretched to give Optimus more room to pluck at Harry's wings and rub under his chin. Harry appreciated that the Autobot leader hadn't tried separating him from Ratchet, he still didn't like Optimus, even if his heated digits felt blissful against his stressed and weary frame.
-Er, ten years old. I think I'm still ten?-
"Ratchet already dated your frame to approximately ten deca-cycles, which roughly matches ten Earth years. How strange that the Allspark would make you a sparkling of similar age instead of newly sparked, or even at the developmental equivalent instead of younger." Optimus mused, faceplates set in a surprisingly grim countenance given that he was now petting Harry like a pet hamster.
"What? Do human sparklin's grow up different?" Jazz asked, joining the ring around Harry.
"They only live a single orn," Ratchet laughed, "of course they do. If the world wide web is to be believed, a ten-year-old human is about the same as a sparkling reaching its third frame."
"Then there's your answer. No way the Allspark had enough material for a second frame." Ironhide pointed out, leading to a chatter of mumbled agreement.
-This body is younger than me then?- It was hard for Harry to picture what an older version of himself would look like. The robot body he had been placed in was at a similar size and height to his old one- Wait, no that was wrong.
Harry's wings twitched as disgust crawled up his spine. He hadn't been removed from his old body and placed into a new one, like he'd thought when he couldn't stop himself from thinking. This was his old body, scorched to atoms and then reforged, leaving a ruin of blood and rejected gore against the side of the cube. He hadn't thought there would be a way back, but to know he was completely destroyed…
Optimus tapped a firmer rhythm into his back, filling out a sequence that left him syrupy slow and abruptly more comfortable. A grateful burble came through his mouth plate and Harry wasn't even embarrassed, he wanted to throw away those dark thoughts just as badly.
"It's the same physical age, but Cybertronians develop much slower." Ratchet stared down at him in concern, there was little doubt he'd caught the reaction, "but you don't have to worry about a thing. There's nothing wrong with the way you are now."
Nothing wrong with him, what a thing to say. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever heard that sentiment thrown his way before. Part of him wanted to cling to it with every fiber of his being, the other rejected it so automatically that it wasn't even a conscious decision. He was left wistful, wouldn't it be great if that were true?
"Prime, you've been around the Allspark the longest. Have you ever heard of it transforming an already living creature into a Cybertronian before? Do you think the humans' experiments fragged it up somehow?" Ironhide looked expectantly at Optimus.
Much to Harry's disappointment, Optimus shook his giant helm. "Never, I've never seen it alter a living form. It's only ever granted sparks and the ability to transform to objects without sparks."
-The humans were using it to create protoforms, or something like them. It was probably an experiment gone wrong.- Bumblebee shared, only peeling himself away from the teenagers for a moment before returning to whatever conversation they could have while Bumblebee only spoke through radio transmissions. Harry wasn't sure what that was about, but he had no problem not asking the awful Autobot.
"Perhaps it's in the best interests of both Harry and the Allspark if he keeps it then, the former container could be compromised." Optimus cast a suspicious look at the cube sitting quietly beside Ironhide still.
"Not that we were going to separate you two, we would never let you starve." Ratchet reassured.
It was unnecessary, Harry didn't think they would.
For all that he hated being kept from Lord Megatron and resented the Autobots for fighting against him, Lord Megatron had trusted they would care for him and so far they've kept their word. Even defending him from Sector Seven after it was revealed that he wasn't what they believed he was this entire time.
-I know.- He gave the medic a happy pat.
It reminded him of the last time he stretched to touch Ratchet's gauntlet, and he frowned up at him. -You're not hurt, right? You cried earlier...-
"I didn't cry." Ratchet denied immediately, shooting a hard look at Ironhide. When Harry followed the gaze though, the weapons specialist appeared completely innocent, faceplates smooth of any expression.
"I-I just…" Ratchet dimmed, slumping over Harry, "The noises you made- that kind of distress signal isn't normally done by healthy sparklings. Or- or even slightly sick ones. I got a little scared is all, I'm sorry for worrying you."
Harry didn't understand. -What do you mean? I'm not sick.-
"You're right, I was just being silly." Harry thought Ratchet was aiming for a smile, but he looked nauseated instead.
"When you're in distress, little one, don't try to interrupt your own programming. You have protocols designed specifically to alert your caretakers of your distress so that we may help you. Quieting your own distress frequencies usually means you are...incapable of maintaining them." Ironhide explained gravely.
Harry still didn't get it, but whatever they were saying was clearly upsetting them all over again so he stopped pushing. He knew enough, muffling his cries as he did earlier was wrong in some way. -Okay, I won't do it anymore. I'm sorry.-
Optimus ran a digit over the side of Harry's faceplates, tilting his helm up as he continued trailing his servos gently over the wiring of Harry's throat and gossamer chest plating. He didn't say anything, but his electric blue optics were curved pleasantly and his touch was so soft it bordered on ticklish. It felt almost as though he were saying thank you.
Then, the Autobot leader pulled away, allowing Ratchet to lower his own servos and bring Harry back against the heated metal of his armor.
"Enough with all this fraggin' downer talkin'!" Jazz burst out, "Optimus, we haven't even started sparkling-proofin' this hangar. Ya sent Ratchet an' Ironhide here to see if this scrap-hole was up to snuff and it ain't, so why ain't we makin' a list of demands?"
"Language." Ironhide snapped.
Jazz shot an apologetic look Harry's way. "Right, sorry lil' spark."
Optimus straightened. "Good point, Jazz. As much as some of us might wish it," Every Autobot turned to stare down Ratchet for some reason, Harry mimicked them but couldn't find anything of note on the medic's sheepish face, "Harry can't stay on a heated servo forever. We need to raise the temperature of this hangar by a considerable degree."
This caught Harry's attention, excitement lighting up like a sparkler. -You mean you can warm this place up? It won't be so cold?-
As much as he liked how warm and comforting Ratchet was, he hadn't been able to run in a straight line for a week. Sure he liked cuddling and napping and he'd learned to not let it bother him so much since being locked in his cupboard had the same limits, but he'd love to walk somewhere without feeling the biting chill.
"That's the first thing we'll address," Optimus promised.
"What about a station for stasis? We can use our alt forms but Harry needs somewhere soft. Do humans have nesting material we could use?" Ironhide jammed a thumb in the teenagers' direction.
"Ah, Sam Witwicky and Mikaela Banes. Would you mind answering a few questions?" Optimus called, beckoning the two away from Bumblebee and Lennox.
They exchanged apprehensive looks, but approached. The soldiers followed suit, while Bumblebee looked content to just watch from where he was.
"Yeah?" The boy, Sam, asked tremulously.
"How do humans rest during stasis? Is there a place we could get soft nesting material, preferably for children?"
"He means sleep." Ratchet clarified.
-Could I maybe have pillows? Blankets? Those scientists gave me this heated blanket and it was so wonderful. I wish I still had it.- Harry chittered happily. He'd love to have a dog pillow again, bundling himself under the blanket had been his only bid for privacy since leaving Surrey and he dearly wished for it again.
"Er, you mean like a bed? For sleeping in? With a pillow and sheets and stuff?" Sam looked nonplussed.
"Affirmative, and also electric blankets? Those would be convenient for any outings. How difficult would it be to acquire these materials?"
"Do you mean for that little robot? Harry?" Mikaela guessed, craning her head to see Harry from so far below. Harry stared back unsurely, should he greet her or something?
"Affirmative."
"It wouldn't be child-sized, but the barracks on site should have extra bedding and cots. It would be easy to bring them here." Lennox stepped forward, chest out. "My name is Major Lennox by the way, and this is Sergeant Epps. Lieutenant colonel Jacobs should have told you about us during debriefing, I look forward to working with you all."
The other man, introduced as Epps, gave a stoic salute.
"I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. This is my second in command, Jazz. My weapons specialist, Ironhide. This is Ratchet, my medical officer. And you've already met my scout, Bumblebee." Optimus introduced each Autobot in turn.
"And that one?" Epps jerked his head up in Ratchet's direction, eyes tracing over Harry's silver wings and poisonous green optics curiously.
-Not an Autobot.- Harry mumbled, he didn't want to be included in Optimus' team. He was Lord Megatron's, not theirs. Not even Ratchet's, even though it would be nice if the medic could come with him.
"A child under my care, he remains unaffiliated. Harry, please greet the humans."
Harry gave a short wave, which Epps and Lennox returned bemusedly. Immediately afterward, he ducked out of sight behind the wall of Ratchet's digits, where Optimus couldn't make him keep interacting with them.
"'Kay, so we need heaters, all that nestin' material that's on base I guess, what else? Toys? Lil' sparklings dig toys, right?"
-A toy would be nice.- Harry admitted shyly. At Jazz's encouraging 'go-on' motion, Harry continued.
-The scientists gave me puzzles sometimes, those were kind of fun. A-and maybe a ball? Any kind, e-except maybe a bowling ball. Those are heavy.- Harry hated when he had to clean through closets for that exact reason, Uncle Vernon's bowling balls were incredibly difficult to polish and replace.
"You guys should get a TV too, if you're going to stay here for a while. This place is heh, a little on the dull side don't you think? No offense." Sam stammered. Mikaela coughed, the edges of her mouth tugging upward.
"Hell yeah! This place is super boring if we aren't just napping in here all the time. Gotta spice it up for Harry. You want a TV?" Jazz asked Harry eagerly.
Harry shrugged. -I-I've never really used one. Wasn't allowed to.-
"Are televisions not a form of entertainment meant for children on Earth?" Ironhide asked Lennox, the upper portion of his faceplates shifting lower to convey a stern frown.
"Is Harry speaking to you? I can't hear anything." Lennox shifted to catch a glimpse of Harry from Ratchet's clutches.
"He's like, talking on a radio frequency or something. Bee can do it too. I don't think he can speak normally." Mikaela explained with a shrug.
"We're working on it, he's already getting better." Ratchet defended.
Before Mikaela could remark on that, Ironhide leaned forward. "The TV, is it not appropriate for children?"
"Th-there are channels and movies that aren't appropriate, no. At least by our standards. But there are also ones that are exclusively for children so it depends on where you look." Lennox explained, startled.
"Okay, we can get a TV. But only with those channels," Ironhide decided, drawing a petulant whine from Bumblebee.
"Yeah, what about us? Harry's not gonna be watchin' all the time, can't we get some bi- cool entertainment for ourselves?"
"I'll speak with the Lieutenant colonel about getting more than sparkling-grade media channels," Optimus promised with a put-upon sigh.
"You guys are really serious about that...robot kid." Epps noted a little incredulously, "Is this a thing? Is every superior officer I work with gonna be some kid-obsessed family man?"
"Aw, shut up." Lennox hissed, cheeks pink.
Ratchet stepped forward, a pleased look on his face. "Major Lennox, you are knowledgeable on maintaining children on this planet?"
Lennox shuffled, "Well, that's kind of a weird way to put it, but yeah. I've got a daughter, Annabelle." The way his face unconsciously softened and his dark eyes warmed...he must really love his daughter. Harry watched a little enviously, he had Lord Megatron and perhaps Ratchet now, but would it be too greedy to wish the Dursleys had ever looked like that when it came to him?
"Excellent, I look forward to working with you as well." Ratchet decided, glee in his every word.
"Hey, uh, we're children too, I guess. I mean, I don't know anything about Autobot babies and I'm an only child, but there's still stuff. I could always make a trip to Toys-R-us with some military cash if you need it." Sam volunteered.
"Oh yeah, and I used to babysit." Mikaela looked meaningfully at Lennox as she said this. He rolled his eyes but said nothing.
"That's very generous. But first I must speak with Lieutenant colonel Jacobs to negotiate these improvements, she may have requests of her own." Optimus politely refused.
Ironhide stared balefully at Mikaela, "Yeah, and I was put in charge of watching the sparkling, won't need any help."
"O-oh, right. Sorry."
"Anyway," Lennox gave Ironhide an unimpressed look, "I take it Harry is the NBEP-00? The one the cube made by killing a child? While we're on the subject of requests, I'd like to make sure you've secured the cube to keep that from happening again."
"Oh yeah, Simmons brought that up. Can't believe a kid got that close." Sam eyed the cube, tucked in the corner of the hanger cautiously.
-Don't correct him.- Optimus transmitted to them all. Bumblebee straightened from his slouched position by the entrance, optics drawn back to his unit.
"We've contained the Allspark," Optimus assured, "It is incapable of interacting with its environment as it is now."
Epps clapped his hands together noisily, "Great!" he said, "Keep it that way and we'll have a hell of an easier time making sure the weasels in Sector Seven stay transparent. Hard enough getting them to dole out some good guns to the military never mind any actual data."
"Their strongest argument so far is that you're untrustworthy and we need to secrecy," Lennox explained to the Autobots.
"Like we're gonna trust them to make tactical decisions without question after putting that alien nightmare on ice for decades right next to a huge population without telling anyone." Epps snorted.
Harry blinked, looking up at Ratchet. -Are they talking about Lord Megatron? He's right, those scientists were awful people. You shouldn't trust them.- Harry supported vehemently, it was difficult to follow but it seemed like the American military and the lab were working together, even if these soldiers didn't want to. Hopefully, they would stop trusting them, maybe even stop using that awful ice as a weapon against Lord Megatron and the Decepticons while they were at it.
"Okay, Major Lennox, I'd love to hear your explanation." Jacobs strolled back into the hangar, her escort missing.
Optimus stepped forward. "Lieutenant colonel, I would also like to speak with you. Regarding this hangar, my team and I would like to make a few requests."
Jacobs watched Optimus warily, "I see, then let's take this to Major Chen. He and his own men can gather agreed upon...amenities."
Jacobs turned on her heel and went out the way she came, combat boots smacking hard against the concrete flooring. Lennox and Optimus followed after her, not looking back.
Within the hour, a cot had been wheeled in, a folded stack of sheets and pillows resting on top. It was all in greys and dun browns, the fuzzy wool blanket on top the only patch of color as a light sky blue.
Jacobs had refused to heat the entire hangar or provide an electric blanket, but Major Chen brought several space heaters to the Autobots and Jazz placed them strategically to maximize space.
When Major Chen came in with his team to set up all of this, Harry found him to be a short Asian man with cropped hair and a surprisingly soft face. He was immediately kinder than Jacobs, smiling at the Autobots as he entered the hangar and personally depositing a small box of toys by the cot.
"The lieutenant colonel was going to reject the request for an entertainment set as well, but I did some digging and we had a spare cable box anyways." He shared happily, rolling in a second-hand television and a surprisingly angular and expensive looking purple cable box for Lennox and Mikaela to tinker with.
"This is much appreciated, Major," Prime watched as a little living space rose up in the center of the cold and industrial hangar, "I understand that these would not be considered necessary."
"Well if you really have a kid in here, sounds pretty necessary to me. Not sure about robot children but when I watched my niece for the weekend, the TV became my ultimate weapon."
The television set was placed away from the heaters to avoid being overheated, Bumblebee and Sam clumsily made the bed, and Epps turned on the space heaters.
"Yikes, these are toasty! Are you sure this won't cook him?" He yelped, backing several feet away from the blast of the fans.
"Of course I'm sure," Ratchet was affronted.
"We run hot, bro." Jazz explained, "Earth machines are hot too, right? But Harry don't run yet, he's too little."
For the first time in what might actually be days, Harry's peds would touch the ground, it was starting to become real in Harry's processors.
Ratchet stared down at him in his servos for a long time, his digits kept twitching as though he only wanted to curl them up and cup Harry like a firefly in his grasp.
Harry fluttered his wings excitedly and gave Ratchet a croon of his own, infused with as much reassurance as he could muster. He would be fine, Ratchet looked like he was about to lose all his cuddles but Harry was more than willing to step back onto his servos later.
But first, he wanted to check out his cot and toys.
That tiny smile broke through Ratchet's stern faceplates. "Alright, alright," He hummed a little sadly, and then, with aching care, Harry was lowered to the floor.
Something like vertigo ran through Harry as the cement came up to meet him. He had gotten used to towering over humans taller than himself, seeing the Autobots stretch over him as giants and humans grow to be larger than himself was a little startling.
He clutched onto a digit and leaned forward, wings still fluttering behind him as though catching on the wind.
With the barest rasp, Ratchet's knuckles kissed the floor and Harry swung his legs over the side. His peds dropped to the chilly floor, and he used his hold on Ratchet to reel himself upright, right in front of a pleasantly warm space heater.
Harry withdrew from Ratchet and found himself standing alone, unprotected on the ground in front of the strange humans.
Anxiety quieted his curiosity, but Harry was already too far to go back to Ratchet. Squaring his shoulders under the combined stares of both Autobots and humans alike, Harry toddled a little unsteadily toward his new cot.
With each step, numbers and calculations flew by in innumerable quantities, his peds grew surer as he learned to walk all over again. It was a beautiful novelty, how even as he stretched to his full height, he didn't suffer a chill or icy breeze.
When he reached the bed, he eagerly ran his servos over the cotton and wool, a little rough against his sensitive plating, but still so deliciously warm and pliant. As soon as he pressed his weight into the bed, he wanted to keep going, burrow as deeply into the covers as possible and never come out.
Delighted coos and chirps bubbled up from his chest as he sat down on the bed with a bounce, he had always wanted a bed, they looked so much more comfortable than his mattress under the stairs. And he was right! It was soft and cushioned and far away from any spiders or dust.
"You're not...melting?" Sam asked curiously, he was shiny with sweat even several feet away from the space heaters.
Harry couldn't ignore the teenager without Ratchet for protection, his happy twittering quieted. Still, he tried to be brave and forced himself to shake his head once. Interaction completed, Harry intentionally twisted himself away from Sam to avoid him.
That brought the small box of toys into his line of sight and even with his mirth tamed, he simply had to see what was inside. Harry strained his neck to peek up at Ratchet, eyes wide and pleading.
-Could I please look at the toys in that box?- He asked.
Ratchet smiled, optics so warm. "Of course, little one."
Needing no further prompting, Harry hopped off the bed and approached the box.
With more reverence than he ever granted Aunt Petunia's fine china, Harry pulled out several puzzle boxes, real puzzles too, not just foam. There were wooden building blocks, plastic cars and planes, and even a baseball. And then, at the very bottom of the box, Harry found books.
A whirr of cheer erupted from his chest as he pulled out three whole books, all brightly colored classics. The very rarest of things to find at the Dursleys and something he liked to squirrel away to his cupboard for entertainment when he was locked away all day.
"He likes books?" Epps mumbled to Lennox, probably not knowing Harry had sharper hearing now.
As long as he didn't need to respond, he didn't mind. Clutching the books to his chest he was about to head back to his new plush bed when he spotted one more plastic plane in the box. It was darkly colored, so he had missed it before.
Harry lifted it up into the light slowly, turning it around in his servo to get a good look. It wasn't a perfect replica, not even close. Too Earthly, with only two wings on a standard slim shape and none of those dark threatening angles and alien weaponry.
He sat back on his bed, placing the books in a neat stack beside him as he ran a digit over the tiny spinning landing wheels and played with the thrusters decorated with little orange circle stickers to represent their blast.
It wasn't the right shape, but it was almost the exact color. Gunmetal grey with darker detailing and black windows. Maybe Harry was just missing him too much, maybe it really was as remarkable as he thought it was. It was still worth cherishing for the reminder alone, though.
Harry hugged the toy close and let the memory of that deep, guttural roar of a voice soothe away some of his insecurities, a near jarringly coarse lullaby.
-Thank you.- He remembered to say, taking great pains to make optic-contact with every single one of the Autobots, barring Bumblebee of course, including Lennox even though he couldn't hear him.
Ironhide translated for him while Ratchet and Jazz accepted his thanks with pride, but Optimus didn't respond, he was watching the toy plane instead, servos clenched.
Did he notice? Harry wasn't sure if he were thrilled or frightened at the notion, but he definitely wasn't willing to part with the shard of presence he'd uncovered in the hangar.
Lord Megatron, he wanted to whisper, stroking the dark wings longingly. Lord Megatron, I'm being good and doing exactly what you wanted. I'm waiting for you.
Harry began flipping through his books, eager to start reading and entertain himself with more than just wing exercises and napping. His grip didn't ease even the slightest on his gunmetal plastic plane.
I'm waiting like you said, so come back for me, okay?
Please come back.
And done!
What did you guys think? I worked really hard on it and I know everyone had expectations for the big reveal and I can't please everyone, but I hope even those who weren't rooting for this exact result still found something to enjoy.
I think a lot of you thought the Autobots would get distant after that revelation, but honestly after seeing just how close Harry got to being taken away legally (and also scaring the shit out of them with his crying) I could only see them getting even clingier and more overprotective. Especially Ratchet and Optimus.
We haven't seen the last of Allspark-human related conversations by the way, the Autobots are still kind of at a loss. They'll recover.
I also brought in some human allies, yes you'll probably see more of Sam and Mikaela and I'm sorry if they annoy you, but hopefully a harder lean on the military characters will help balance things out.
Also, yes Ratchet had a panic attack. Sparklings have programs made specifically to make distress signals Cybertronians are WIRED to respond to, even those without explicit parental protocols. They aren't designed to be muffled since crying serves an important purpose, and the only times the Autobots have heard quiet baby crying was when that baby was weak and dying.
Harry didn't get how he traumatized everyone but hopefully he won't do it again.
Hey! Some progress between Optimus and Harry too. Hopefully Prime won't screw it up by treating Harry like a soldier again. Poor Bumblebee is all by himself in the undying hatred from a sparkling club now.
So I ruffled some feathers with my complaints about Jazz in the last update so I just wanted to say that I don't think ebonics are racist or that characters who speak like this are racist. It's just how damn blatant and lazy minorities are written in the Bayverse that drives me crazy. Jazz is 'the black one' who curses, does some hip hop spin, and then dies because black people are virtually worthless amiright?
Since I don't speak like this or know anyone who speaks like this, it's virtually impossible for me not to come off like a hip grandma spitting sick tunes to her poor cringing grandchildren when I write his dialogue too.
Also someone else mentioned that I update at like 3-4 chapters a year, which wow is insanely slow and I apologize for that. In my defense, I write an equal amount for my other fic The Peorth is Ever the Play and Laughter, so I turn out a new chapter for either fic every like month and a half on average. Still...not the best, but I try to make these things long and high quality to make it worth the wait?
Okay onto the questions-
Warrior of Aces asked if I'll redesignate Harry again. And yeah, Ironhide has been subtly dying to rename Harry this entire time. And Megatron has been name shopping since he first found his sparkling so Harry'll be going through some names eventually. Whether or not they stick…
Blitza asked if Harry will fly in this fic. Probably not...I don't think it's going to be long enough for Harry to get old enough for that. But we will see him glide eventually.
A couple of people asked why Harry/the Autobots didn't just tell the military Harry was actually a child so that some ethics committee would swoop down. But the military works with the still not dismantled SS and how would that not make them even MORE curious about him? Right now they think the Allspark might kill someone at any moment and Harry is just a kind of unique protoform they weren't finished poking at. How much more desperate would SS be if they knew not only did they have a stronger legal claim through former humanity and perhaps guardian consent if they track down the Dursleys, but that it was theoretically possible to be turned into an alien? They'd crack his head open in a second.
Alright I think that's it…
Thank you so much for all your support, you guys are amazing and I love writing for you all so much! Please leave a review if you'd like, they are fantastic motivation and I love every single one.
See you in like 4.5 months I guess!