Draft sighed, he was hanging out in his room two days later. If, no, when he got back to Earth, he was never going to do something worthy of being arrested. Ever.
Because house arrest sucked.
He was playing Tetris on his HUD, absently musing on how to get Sunstreaker back. No way was that yellow freak getting away with his prank; Draft's anger, pride, and mischievous side all demanded the favor be returned. It had been cruel. But what to do and how to avoid getting murdered by him or Ultra Magnus when either of them found out eluded him.
/Draft, are you alright?/
First Aid? Draft sat up. /...Y-Yeah? Why, should I not be?/
/Oh, I'm just checking, since you haven't been hurt for a whole orn. That must be a personal record, right?/
/Haha, very funny./ Draft said. /Does getting slapped count?/
/What? When?/
/Yesterday. Ultra Magnus bailed me out, but he wasn't happy about it./
/He hit you?/ First Aid sounded decidedly less okay with that than Draft was. Extremely so. Trying to placate him, Draft urged,
/It's fine, barely left a dent. He was just being a mother hen./
/A femme what?/
Draft frowned. /A what what?/
/What?/
/What?/
/What./
/Never mind, it's an expression. Man you guys take everything literally./
/You need to tell me when any of them hit you, okay? Because that's not okay./
/Look it's fine, I'm fine, he's fine, we're all fine./ Draft groaned. /Just drop it./
/Drop what?/
/Dude./
/Oh. ...How was training?/
The Earth mech snorted. Way to segway into that one First Aid. What was he, his mom? Draft reopened his mental game of Tetris as he talked. /Good. Why are you so interested?/
/Just being nice./ First Aid said.
/Nice? I thought that was a foreign concept around here./
/You're the only foreign concept around here. Sure you don't want to talk about it?/
/Smooth. And I didn't get tazed, if that's what you're asking. Hey First Aid?/
/Yeah?/
/What are 'enhancers'?/ Draft asked, figuring the medic would know.
There was a pause. Then, / What have those Wreckers been putting in your head?/
Draft snickered. /Their fists. And a crow bar, once. When they first kidnapped me./
/Nobody kidnapped you./
/I'm being held against my will, what do you call that?/
/You're not being held against your will./
Pausing his tetris, the flyer stated, /If I leave, that makes me a deserter. Plus I have nowhere to go; interstellar travel isn't exactly covered in ninth grade./ This was true; for all intents and purposes, he was practically stranded.
/What do you hate about this place so much?/ First Aid said, sounding sympathetic.
/Are we being rhetorical, or should I start listing?/
First Aid scoffed. /It can't be that bad./
/Everyone here is crazy./ Draft sighed dramatically. Listing it was.
/You're exaggerating./
/I got locked in the brig./
/Not for ong./
/Silverbolt thinks my aim sucks./
/Does it?/
/Ultra Magnus even grounded me./
/HE WHAT?!/ First Aid suddenly exploded, losing whatever game they'd been playing. /Stay right there I'm coming. Are you okay? When did this happen?! Do you need any pain chips?!/
First Aid sounded a level of serious Draft didn't think even Ultra Magnus possessed, and he quickly backtracked. /What, no, stop, what are you talking about? I'm fine, don't come here. What's wrong?/
/You said he grounded you - are your wings still attached? Functional?/
/Attached? You think he...oh no no no, you see, getting "grounded" for me means getting ordered to stay in my room. Not, uh, not that. I'm fine./
/Don't scare me like that./ First Aid said, clearly relieved.
/Don't scare me like that./ Draft shot back.
He was glad First Aid called, though he'd never admit it; it felt good to talk to someone, even if the medic only did it because he knew he was a sparkling. He went back to playing Tetris.
Jetfire wasn't annoyed. Ever since they'd left for patrol, Draft had stayed close, practically flying underneath him - in complete contrast to the stellar performance he put on in their last training session. Again, Jetfire wasn't annoyed. But obviously the guy could fly. Why was he so nervous?
/You okay?/
/F-Fine./ Draft said, though Jetfire noted he immediately put distance between them to prove it. The scientist remained unconvinced.
To their right, Air Raid and Slingshot flew lazy loops around each other. Draft caught himself watching and looked away, remembering he couldn't afford to be distracted. This had to be the farthest a patrol had ever taken him from base; a Decepticon could appear at any moment. Did nobody care?
/Knock it off you two./ Silverbolt commed. Apparently one person did. /Jetfire, Draft, we're taking a break. That building with the balcony over there./
Draft kept on Jetfire's thrusters as they proceeded to the building, transforming next to him when they got there. Silverbolt, Slingshot, and Air Raid landed perfectly in synch. It was as if they could read each other's minds, Draft mused.
"No 'Cons so far, but we still have half a parsec to cover. Three breems, we move out."
There was a chorus of Yes Sirs. They sort of split up, though of course none of them actually strayed very far because that would just be stupid. The aerialbots chilled close to each other, checking up on weapons systems or fuel levels with their HUDs. For his part Draft moved further inside, looking around the room that adjoined the balcony with a wonder that belonged to the young.
What was this place? Why was it shaped the way it was? Who lived here? People like him, obviously. Though, on second thought, Draft supposed there wasn't anybody like him.
"Remind you of Polyhex?" Jetfire asked, joining him.
Draft silently nodded, deciding to let the mech think what he wanted; he wasn't sure his vocalizer worked right now. For some reason this stupid place had him all choked up. The whole 'I'm-a-soldier-now' thing hadn't bothered him as much when he was sitting in the rec room or safe on his berth, but now that he was out here the truth reared its ugly head.
He didn't want to die.
Was he willing to give is life to the Autobots? He didn't think so. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever.
"Let's go." Silverbolt called.
...
"Hey, Draft?"
"Yeah?"
They were in the main hanger, having just got back. Thank goodness. Draft suddenly didn't mind the thought of spending so much time grounded in his room, if it meant not being out there.
"Are you busy later this cycle? Because, I mean, if you want to, I have some holo-vids from Polyhex, and I was thinking…I mean, if you want to. Me and Skydive thought you might." Fireflight fumbled, deciding to just shut up. Dear Primus, that didn't sound at all like he'd thought it would. In the background, Silverbolt Slingshot and Air Raid looked up as one.
Draft was genuinely surprised. His teammates wanted to hang out with him? But then he remembered.
"Sorry, I, I already have p-plans." Draft apologized, wondering what a holovid was. He was still grounded - Damn you Ultra Magnus.
"Oh." Was all Fireflight said. "Maybe, some other time?"
"Yeah, sounds fun." Draft nodded. "Tell Skydive I wish I could make it."
Fireflight smiled again. "Okay."
When Impactor dropped him off at his quarters, Draft silently stalked past Ultra Magnus to his room. It wasn't that the huge mech was easy to miss; Draft just had nothing to say to him. Bad enough he was being punished unjustly, or that he'd almost accepted it; now it was actually affecting him.
There were datapads on his berth, more lessons fo sho. In a huff Draft sat down and considered chucking them across the room; he could be making friends with Fireflight and Skydive right now. Lord knows he could use some of those.
He picked a datapad up and glared at it, but the expression slowly softened as an idea came to him.
He didn't want to study - maybe he didn't have to.
First Aid had explained how to download HUD programs or create one of his own (such as Tetris), maybe he could download information the same way. Draft fiddled with the 'pad, connecting it to a dataport in his arm. Worth a shot. What was the worst that could happen? He booted it up.
~*FFZSHHT*~
Chapter 7, hope you enjoy