"Are you functioning properly? Whatever are you doing upon the floor?"


Look and Listen Book 1

There's a Reason

Chapter 3: Perception

Rating: PG (implied relationships, malfunctioning prototype, physical disabilities)

Major Characters: Wheelie, Perceptor, BELla

POV: Wheelie


Training had gone well.

Er... Somewhat? For Sideswipe's team, it'd gone exceptionally well! For the other two (the captains being Smokescreen for Wheelie's team and Streetwise for the third) it was just embarrassing. Wheelie's head was still sore from Eject tackling him and causing the back of the orange mini-Bot's head to strike the ground. And to add insult to injury, the Mini-Cassette had managed to take the flag Wheelie'd been tasked with guarding- earning the winning for his team and the loss for Wheelie's.

Eject had apologized about four times afterward while a very disgruntled First Aid had removed the dent from the Mini-Bot's helm. And now, Wheelie sits in an abandoned corridor with a data-pad in his lap, sitting with his legs criss-crossed and rubbing the back of his head every once in a while. He'd already typed up a detailed report of the training bout and transmitted it to the command room- the message showed him that it'd been opened pretty much immediately. Blaster must've been on duty after the officer meeting, if Wheelie was to guess.

So with that, the Mini-Bot thought it'd be a good time to work on some personal writing since none of his friends were available. Daniel had to run to Earth for some court-thing Wheelie didn't know anything about. Blurr had gone to First Aid after the meeting to have more work done to his neural line. Sideswipe had gone off on a patrol with Bumblebee. The Dino-Bots were all off doing their own thing or recharging. And then there was Kup- he...couldn't remember what an Autobot was after he'd woken up because of the call to the officers. It'd been suggested to the Mini-Bot that he leave his childhood caretaker alone for the time being because of it.

Wheelie vents and leans back against the wall- he hadn't heard so much as a pede-step since coming into this hallway. It was so underused that there was dust on the floor that had been tracked into Headquarters from Earth. The young soldier could only see his own pede-prints in that dust.

The journalist lowers a servo and drags his rounded digits over the ground, making marks in the dust covering the orange surface. What could he work on? He's honestly got no ideas... Poetry maybe? Eh...he wasn't really in the mood for that...

He pulls a rag from subspace and wipes the dust from his digits, then returns that servo to the device in his lap. He opens up different files, reading them over- one after the other after the other. Right up until he finds one that's unfinished... The mech tilts his head and starts reading it over- and he cringes. This must've been one of his first attempts at writing when he was younger. It's...sad, really. He liked the idea though. Knights and ragons and casltes and...wait. The knight was a women and she had to rescue a prince? He vaguely remembers writing it- maybe he could start over?

Wheelie opens up a new file and he begins to write. One word finds its way onto the file, and then another and another. Once upon a time... Yeah, that's how humans started their fairy tales, right? He liked it.

Once upon a time, there lived a prince in the Kingdom Travour. He stops. Now what?

He scratches the back of his head, rubbing at the sore spot. He...really had no idea...

The young soldier's engine rumbles, and his lips move as if he was muttering something to himself. Which he actually would have been doing if he'd had the physical ability to speak. Writer's block. Heh. Humans got it- and it seemed like Cybertronians did too. Wheelie that's irritating...

The tile gets saved and then closed out, and Wheelie opens up another blank one. Well then...poetry it is!

He thinks for a few minutes, going over themes in his processors. So many things he could write about... He brings a servo up to his mouth and starts biting the knuckle of his index finger until his optics brighten when a thought comes to him. That's it!

When Panic speaks hamlessly,
When Fear can be seen,
When Blessings fall short,
When Hope seems but a distant sheen.

He liked that. Reading it over quick, he corrects his spelling mistake of 'hamlessly' to 'harmlessly'. Much better! When Panic speaks harmlessly.

Wheelie narrows his optics thoughtfully, tapping a digit against his chin.

We must keep figh- He stops and deletes the last four letters. That could be used in a second, but not yet.

We must keep marching,
We must not fall,
We must keep fighting,
We must not move to our knees and crawl.

He liked where this was going. It spoke of the Autobots, actually... Of Kup and Blurr and Sideswipe and Bluestreak- even himself! Maybe that's why it was so easy for him to work on this one compared to the knight story. Hey! He just came up with a title for it! Knight's Tale.

Wheelie blinks. Wow. He was definitely low on recharge. His thoughts were just all over the place right now. He huffs out a hot vent and turns off his device, then he leans back against the orange-panels wall and closes crystal blue optics. Maybe he could sleep for just a klick...

...

"Wheelwasher? Are you functioning properly? Wheelwasher?"

The young soldier starts, optics widened and digits immediately tightening around his weapon. He's got it pointed at whoever had spoken even before his systems wake up fully. The second he sees who it is, however, Wheelie's free servo fists into the 'A' shape and he rotates it over his chest in a clockwise motion. 'Sorry.'

"Nothing to be of worry. Are you functioning properly? Whatever are you doing upon the floor?"

His still-fisted servo finds his optics, and Wheelie rubs the sleep out of them while checking his chronometer. Three hours?! He'd been recharging here for three hours?! The journalist slowly gets to his pedes, grimacing at the stiffness in his neck, back, and knees. Oh, he might need to run over to First Aid beofre he did anything laborious to get his gears oiled after that...

'I'm alright. Just sleeping. Do you need help?' He looks up at the taller mech as he stretches following his question, venting in satisfaction when some of the stiffness leaves his frame with that action.

Not particularly. Sludge simply informed me that you seemingly 'disappeared' after an extensive training exercise- it occurred to me that you may have been damaged. I searched Headquarters some before discovering your pede-prints in the dust leading here- this corridor is positively filthy..."

'P-E-R-C-Y.'

"Ah, right. My humble apologies." Wheelie just rolls his optics and grins in good humor- he'd always liked Perceptor. Even if he didn't understand all the mech's science-y jargon... Then again; who did understand all of it? The Technobots (especially combined into Computron), Rodimus (sometimes at least), Magnus, and Arcee, that's who.

Wheelie looks up as Perceptor's frame sinks down to one knee, and the journalist tilts his head a little. "Would you like to accompany me to my lab, Wheelie? I have a few current projects- one of which may be of some interest to you."

The smaller mech blinks, then he nods. 'A test?'

"You can certainly say that, yes."

The scientist holds out his servos in offer to the young soldier. Wheelie in turn nods, and Perceptor picks him up and places the Mini-Bot on the shoulder opposite to his telescope. The orange-armored soldier crosses his ankles and holds his data-pad in his lap as the other mech walks. He can't help but notice how steady on his pedes Perceptor was. Unlike the Dino-Bots who stomped around and gave Wheelie some trouble staying one when he got rides from them around HQ, the scientist's steps are smooth and even- like he'd been taught how to walk right by balancing objects on his head.

'What test?' the mech asks- but Perceptor had been looking ahead and didn't see what Wheelie said. The soldier then taps the side of the scientist's head and asks again when the larger mech looks at him. 'What test?'

Perceptor's careful with his vocaulary- picking words that he knows his less scientifically-inclined comrade would understand. "Wait until we get to my lab to ask questions, Wheelie. Seeing this project may be plenty for you to know what I am working on."

A nod is accompanied by a vent, and Wheelie slouches his shoulders. It was hard getting a straight answer from Perceptor... Even if he did speak in Layman's terms to you!

The rest of the walk's pretty quiet between the two- Wheelie not asking anything gives the older mech nothing to answer to.

Even when the doors into the mech's lab slide open, there's silence. But this time, it's a silence earned from curiosity and aw. This was one room that Wheelie'd never been in. It was so much technology in one place- he'd never thought it'd be possible to see so much at once. So many moving parts, so many glowing machines, schematics and blueprints, chemicals and vials, bowls and beakers. He can see protoforms floating in life-support systems for whenever they'd be needed, high-tech tools hanging neatly on one wall and in rows on tables.

'All yours?'

The soldier catches the barest traces of a smirk on Perceptor's lips, and the red-armored mech nods. "Indeed. I have centuries of work into this laboratory."

A mechanical meow grabs the young soldier's attention. He looks up at where the sound came from, and a silver-plated mechanical feline stands up and stretches from the shelf it'd been resting on. It was a strange feline- more Earthen than Cybertronian. Wheelie'd seen the Mini-Cassette Ravage before- this feline wasn't like Ravage. It looked like it'd been molded exactly from a domestic Earth-cat's build.

Wheelie points up at the feline with a quizzical expression, and Perceptor only chuckles. The scientist holds one arm out, and the feline hops down from the shelf, onto the table below, and then scurries up the older mech's arm- finally settling on his telescope and sitting tall and proud. "This is Broadband Backup, Encryption, and Load Balancing- simply 'BELla' for short."

'Why B-E-L-L-A?'

"Broadband backup, Encryption, and Load baLAncing," he answers, emphasizing the letters that made up the abbreviation for her name. "She is a working prototype meant to aid Blaster in his duties once she is finished."

'Not done?'

"Much work to be done yet. She still malfunctions on nearly a cycle basis- though there had been much progress since the beginning of her project."

The matte-orange-armored mech nods as he's set down on an empty table- BELla follows his down, using Perceptor's outstretched arm like a bridge from his shoulder to the table. She purrs and bumps her head against Wheelie's. She might've been modeled after an Earth-cat, but she was definitely sized for a Cybertronian with her head being level with Wheelie's.

The mute soldier grins at the feline and rubs her between the ears, and then he looks up at Perceptor. 'Test?'

"Yes, allow for me to pull up the information."

Wheelie nods as the scientist moves over to one of the many monitors in the room and turns his attention back to BELla. The feline meows and bumps her head against the soldier's chest- her ears and tail flicking just like they would on a domestic cat. Her silver plates were shaped to look like furred cheeks on her face, and her large eyes glowed crystal blue- just like most Autobots' did.

BELla sits back on her hind legs and puts her front paws on the soldier's chest- easily knocking him onto his back. Wheelie blinks, then just laughs silently when the feline lays her front paws and head on his chest. So much like an Earth cat...

"BELla: down," Perceptor orders as he returns to the table. The prototype looks up and meows, then hops down and onto the floor so that Wheelie's able to sit up. The scientist pulls up a chair so that he's able to sit next to Wheelie (a data-pad now in his servo) and BELla jumps up into Perceptor's lap the second he sits down.

Perceptor puts the data-pad down on the table and activates a file while Wheelie pushes his own off to the side so that he's able to focus on the scientist's. Coding scrolls over the screen, and then equations, and a blueprint loads in last. The journalist tips his head and reads over notes placed on the blueprint. His optics widen and a servo reaches up to his throat as he looks to Perceptor.

The scientist nods. "First Aid and myself have been working on this for some time now. The damage your intake sustained had been severe, but we have the belief that we have successfully been working around the damage with this project. It should be no more than two years until you are again able to articulate, Wheelwasher."

Wheelie smiles while rounded digits trace the faded, nearly smooth welds on his throat where a vocoder used to set. He brings his digits to his lips while keeping a flat hand, then moves it forward and downward.

"It is not I you should thank- Blurr is the one whom brought up the idea to First Aid and myself."

The younger mech nods. It doesn't mean he wasn't thankful to Perceptor though- he was still working on this project, even if Blurr was the one who'd come up with it.

At most, it'd be two years- then he'd be able to talk again. Primus... It's hard to think of. Wheelie looks over the information that the scientist leaves in front of him, even though Perceptor himself gets up and goes over to a different monitor from where he'd retrieved the information for Wheelie. The one he goes to has a blueprint, but the soldier can't quite read anything the screen has from the distance he's at.

Oh well. Whatever it was was probably just one of Percy's personal projects. He had a lot of those. Wheelie returns attention to the data-pad as BELla hops up next to him and sits by his side, rubbing his face against the oarange-armored mech's shoulder and purring loudly. Wheelie for the most part ignores her, too engrossed in the information in front of him to pay much attention to the robotic feline.

The thought of being able to speak again... If he wasn't so good at keeping his emotions in check, he'd probably be close to tears right now. Oh wait 'til Kup found out! Unless...Kup already knew. On second thought, chances were that his childhood caretaker did already know. Why wouldn't he be told? He'd have to be, wouldn't he?

Wheelie blinks. Wow. He was still tired, so his thoughts were still all over the place...

The mech vents when information starts disappearing from the data-pad, and he revs his engine (startling BELla so that she scampers off) to get Perceptor's attention. The points frantically at the device as soon as the scientist turns. The red-armored mech approaches, takes one look at the fading information, then turns right back around and returns to the monitor. "A simple fail safe, Wheelie. That information has Autobot technology- when it is downloaded it only remains on the device for so long before the information erases itself to prevent possible copying of our technology. It is still in the data-banks of the original machine, but no longer held within the data-pad."

Wheelie nods and vents in relief, the hot air huffing out of the vents at the back of his head.

He looks up at the monitor Perceptor had moved back to. He laughs silently when BELla uses the scientist's head as a springboard to get onto a shelf that she'd otherwise been unable to reach with him in the way of the monitor that she could've used. Crystal blue optics looked up to the feline, lips pressed together in annoyance like that was something she did often, then he looks back at Wheelie when the younger mech gives a waving gesture to get his attention again. Wheelie points at the monitor, then upturns his palms with a quizzical expression.

"This is nothing you need worry yourself over. A personal project, that is all."

His gives the scientist an unimpressed look and then just rolls his optics. Scientists were hard to understand sometimes.

Wheelie lifts his servos again to ask something, but they immediately find their way to the sides of his head instead. BELla had sat up on her shelf, and now an audio-splitting, high-pitched screeching was leaving her open mouth. Perceptor had visibly jumped before he'd started scrabbling to grab the feline. He managed to pull her off the shelf and manually shut her off with a switch behind her right ear.

The scientist shakes his head and puts the currently offline robot on an empty table, and then he kneels down in front of Wheelie. The mech sees Perceptor's lips moving, but signs 'Can't hear' for him.

The red mech nods and lifts his own servos, signing for Wheelie to readjust his audios internally, and that he'd do touch-ups.

It takes only minutes before the Mini-Bot's able to hear again. He looks up at Perceptor expectantly with one optical-ridge raised.

"As I have stated: she still malfunctions on nearly a cycle basis. That screech is by far her worst malfunction I have yet seen. It startled Rodimus half to deaht the first time she did it."

Wheelie nods. 'Can fix her?'

"Why certainly! It is just a matter of..." Percy stops. That's be getting into too much scientific detail with his less-scientifically inclined comrade. "I will simply have to look over each problem individually and fix them one at a time."

Perceptor holds out his servos, and Wheelie nods after picking u phis personal data-pad. The scientist picks the Mini-Bot up without trouble and sets him on the floor.

Wheelie takes one last look around the room, and then waves to the older mech to indicate his departure.

"Wheelwasher," the other mech says before the soldier can even turn around, "if you ever need anything, know that you are always welcome here."

The mech nods and turns around. The doors open in front of him before the scientist calls to him yet again. "Wheelie..." a short hesitation, "If you happen across Blaster do you mind directing him here?"

The journalist blinks. What would Perceptor need Blaster in here for? Sure BELla was built to help him, but he couldn't possibly help Perceptor correct her malfunctions could he? He simply gives a thumbs-up without turning around- then he departs.


AN: BELla's my first ever oc! ^w^ She's not very important for the story, but I thought she'd be good practice.