Chapter 8: Lessons

"Bluestreak," came a voice from behind the gunner, the grey mech almost balking as he turned around to see the medic prowling towards him.

The youngling had to swallow, wondering if he had been caught stealing energon. Part of him wondered if he should just give in and end it all now … but he was too afraid. He was too afraid of the pain of slowly being taken apart for pieces. The first time had already been enough.

The first time had been enough …

'This ones a gonner. Put him over there near the other deactivated on arrivals. Leave the berth for a bot we can actually save. He'll be bled out in a groon. We need groons to fix that much damage.'

'B-but he's just a youngling. I told him … it was going to be okay,' said the soldier that had dragged him to the makeshift medical bay. The mech that had whispered the whole way that he was going to be okay. Blue's systems were half locked and he couldn't even reply … he couldn't even cry out at the energon-covered medics judgment.

This wasn't happening. The soldier-mech said it was going to be okay. He promised. He promise! He wanted to live.

His optic could barely powerup though, he couldn't even twitch as his HUD struggled to reboot, but even he knew that the medic was frowning as he shook his helm. 'I doubt he's even online right now. That helm damage looks pretty bad. He's probably not even aware of himself anymore. He probably didn't even hear you. Now, I know its hard soldier, but put him in the pile. A young bot like that would have never survived this war anyway.'

Bluestreak was then lifted of the berth he had just been put so carefully on, the young bot screaming out in his head that he was alive. He was alive. He was online … and then he was slowly put next to other graying and grayed-out corpses.

The mech that had carried him then whispered, 'I'm sorry kid.'

Bluestreak quickly blinked back the flashback as the medic stepped before him, giving him a critical gaze as a light scan fell over his frame. He tried not to cringe back or choke up given the quick flashback. He couldn't afford to be weak right now. Not when Scorponok needed him.

"I've been looking for you, Bluestreak," said Ratchet, still giving him an benignant look. "I finally got some free time and I need to check you and Bumblebee's systems. We will be getting some excess … materials… and maybe both of you can get an upgrade."

The grey youngling seemed to wilt even though Ratchet was smiling softly as he tried to be supportive, his EM field flickering over the young bot for a moment. Honestly, he was just happy that he could upgrade the needing youngling so soon. He still couldn't believe that Bluestreak was so behind on his maintenance and wasn't glitching.

Taking a step back, his helm tilted downwards slightly, the youngling swallowed and sought out his forming connection with Scorponok. He knew there would be no reply from the probably dying drone, but he did so as a reminder. He could not dally.

Biting the soft metal of his lip with his front denta at the very thought, the youngling replied, "T-then I'll go find B-bumblebee."

The medic, now basically on top of the youngling as if assessing the shorter frame, raised a metal brow as he looked down on the youth.

"That won't be necessary. Ironhide dragged him into the medical bay after the Barricade chase… 'Con slagger is slippery. Regardless, with news that I'll be getting some supplies soon I decided to start some minor maintenance if not the entire upgrades now. Before I have too many idiots to take care of," said the medic, noting how the younger mech seemed to want to wilt away and into the floor. Bluestreak had always seemed a little weary of Ratchet, but now he was acting almost jumpy. If the behavior still persisted in a few weeks, Ratchet needed to have a sit down with the youth. He needed to make him understand that, as a medic, Ratchet was not going to hurt him. He might have a terrible berthside manner, but he would never willingly hurt one of his patients.

Regardless, he wasn't going to back off just because the youngling was obviously uncomfortable around medics. Those upgrades needed to start now, especially Bluestreak so he could get a grasp on the youth's psychological health. Kup had promised to report any waking nightmares or hallucinations, but that still didn't answer if it was the feedback from a glitch or a mental trauma. Either way, Kup thankfully was keeping an optic on any irregularities. The old caretaker was a godsend for this terrible case of neglect. In fact, after Ratchet had mentioned Bluestreak's desperate upgrade needs, Kup almost became possessed with finding an solution. He honestly would have made sure Barricade was deactivated today if only he could have caught him. He would have done so merely so Bluestreak could have the parts.

Kup was a trooper. The thought of cannibalized parts did not haunt him like most mechs.

So, instead, the old bot marched over to Prime's office and demanded a mission to look for the Deception's bases in order to gather supplies. Ratchet, knowing that temporary bases would likely have little in supplies, let it slip about the bodies in Mariana Trench. They could have used the metal at least. Saying so quickly trigger Kup's caretaker proticals had triggered something, and that was why Ratchet was looking hopeful. After much persistence, Optimus was able to convince the American Government to reclaim the bodies from the ocean floor… all except Megatron.

That was too taboo.

And they would properly dispose of them.

He doubted Prime told them they were going to cannibalize parts, though he doubted the humans would think of that as taboo considering they had auto-shops in every town in America.

So, instead of running around blind, Prowl and Kup went to dredge the bodies up from the murky depths … and to threaten each other apparently. It was no secret now, with how often Prowl would ask Kup of Bluestreak's condition, that the SiC cared and there was bound to be words between the two sooner or later.

Ratchet still wanted to know why Prowl hadn't accepted the duty of being Blue's caretaker. Perhaps Kup could get something out of the other mech as to why he didn't even consider the position. It wasn't like they were in the middle of a battlefield. Earth was rather pacified at the moment. Perfect for a developing bond.

Regardless, with the look Blue was giving him, Ratchet might have to wait for Kup to return … because the youngling was slowly taking a step back. Just like a squirmy Bumblebee.

"Oh no, you don't!" barked the medic just as the kid turned ready to run, the elder mech grabbing for a wrist. "You need a checkup."

Bluestreak proved too mobile though, tripping backwards as he squeaked, "I-I promised to take one of … uh… Bumblebee's shifts. I can't right now! Bye!"

Watching the kid skip backwards and then dash off, the medic was almost tempted to take pursuit, but did not. Instead, he clicked on his com. link and murmured, ::Kup? Are you there?::

::What's up Hatchet? We are still fishin' for Cons:: said the mech over the line, a tint of irritation in his voice likely derived from Prowl's company.

Tilting his head, still watching Blue's back as the kid ran down the hall, the medic's helm shifted for a moment in surprise as he watched that back plating shift slightly. He couldn't help but notice that the kid's form seemed a bulkier in his upper back as if his form was trying to carry more weight. His door wings also seemed restrained against the same plating. What was up with that plating? It seem ill-placed. Also were his wings bothering him? Was it growing pains? Either way, it was detrimental to a Praxian's balance to hold his wings that way.

Or maybe a glitch.

Ratchet frowned.

He did not want to think about that for a moment. The kid was getting an upgrade regardless after he stripped those Cons. Turning his attention back to Kup, he replied, ::Bluestreak refused to come in for a checkup. I need to assess his … needs::

Kup sighed, grunting, ::Sorry Ratchet. Thought the kid wouldn't be so troublesome and that he could do that on his lonesome. When I get back, I'll set 'im straight::

::See that you do, Kup. Happy fishing.::

::See yah soon, Ratchet. Though I can't promise to bring Prowl back in one piece. Slagger's getting on my nerves. He keeps acting like I'm not good enough for little Blue. Well, I'll be setting him straight:: grumbled the green mech before he replied, ::Signing off::

Ratchet, despite his concern for Bluestreak, chuckled. Perhaps the gnarly old mech could get some answers out of the stoic Second and why he didn't take Bluestreak. He wanted Bluestreak. There was no doubt in Ratchet's CPU, yet he hadn't said a thing.

Not one word.

…

Blue slowed his pace as he got closer to the base's exit, trying to calm his spark. He felt so frightened right now that he was about to lose his last intake. He still didn't know how he had managed to get back to the base after begging Barricade for help and had not ended up running down the hall with the scorpion-bot in his arms. After all, Barricade had agreed. Though, he gave the condition that Bluestreak had to do everything he said. The youth, feeling as if he was murdering his Prime, had wanted to say no and stepped back like a scared sparkling.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to state that he never wanted the drone to begin with … He couldn't let it die. He could not.

He could not abandon a part of his spark. The bond had grown without him even knowing it.

So, with a trembling EM field, optics shivering, Bluestreak agreed that he would give Barricade anything that would not harm the Autobots. Food, evasion information, equipment, anything within reason. Just as long as he didn't endanger the ones he cared about and saved Scorponok.

Frowning at the loophole in Bluestreak's demand, Barricade still agreed.

It had seemed almost too easy, but Bluestreak had no doubt that Barricade was probably starving. A mech could only survive so long off of solar energy and gasoline before their systems started to degrade, especially if he was injured and Barricade had been injured. His systems were likely cannibalizing metal from other systems.

So, now that most of the bots were off seeing humans or on other business, it was time for him to take his drone for help. He hadn't even wanted to wait one night to get his drone to Barricade, but the black mech refused for this to be rushed. He stated that if they weren't careful, the drone would be found out and killed anyway… so he had to remain calm and come tomorrow, folding the scorpion-bot into his compartment. Then, and only then, he would see what he could do.

Bluestreak had stated he didn't have a compartment and Barricade had laughed, murmuring that if he didn't yet… he would.

Despite being bothered by that, Bluestreak had said he would find another way. A moving trailer or something if he had to, but in the end, as if on instinct, he found himself popping is trunk. His back seats had even folded away and though he had to be half transformed, he was able to get the drone into his form. His tires had sagged under the weight yet he felt no pain in the added stress to his frame. It was as if his body had slowly been preparing for the strain of such an added weight.

Currently driving down the road now, Blue tried not to let the last few groons bother him. He tried not to think of how his body was changing right under his armor… and how he prayed no one would notice. In fact, he was so deep in his thoughts and how he might end up looking like Blackout, that he nearly sideswiped an RV when Barricade chimed over the com link.

::You weren't followed, where you?::

Tire's squealing, engine skipping a beat, the gunner stiffened as another heavier engine roared and came up next to him on the highway, a slightly maimed enforcer in his side mirror. The youth couldn't help but note that the Con looked a little healthier though, probably from the energon Bluestreak had offered as a sign of peace.

Hating himself for giving a Con anything, Bluestreak begged, ::He's in my trunk. What now?::

The cop car slowed down a little as if to look at the trunk and then chuckled softly, purring, ::I thought you didn't have a place to put him.::

Pride stinging, Bluestreak murmured back like a chided sparkling, ::I didn't know I had room, alright.::

Snorting, the fake officer turned on his lights and growled, ::Follow me, youngling. Let's see what's wrong with the slagger.::

Bluestreak wanted to break away, to end this charade, but instead he found his engine roaring to pick up speed. Silently, he was hoping to Primus that the little drone hadn't died in his trunk though if the scorpion-bot had … he was sure he would have noticed. He was sure he would have at least started weeping and pulled over to the side of the road, staying there until he forgot how to feel.

How exactly was one supposed to react when a part of their spark offlined anyway?

…

It only took a few minutes to get to a barren location. Barricade's base of operations was a highway gas station that had closed when an interstate had been put in up the highway.

The black cop car drove smoothly behind the building over weed devoured gravel, the rocks shifting under his weight. The place was long since abandoned, old signs fading and showing that this place had once been servicing gas and oil. Jack's Wheels was what the fading signs proclaimed.

Bluestreak, only taking a moment to stare at the dirt covered windows, followed after the Con reluctantly before his alt form stalled. Nervously, he watched the enforcer transform in a fury of shifting parts before the older mech walked to the garage door. The enforcer then stuck his large fingers under the door and into the gravel, lifting while old hinges squealed like rusty banshees.

Then, staring at the youth behind him, Barricade growled, "You going to sit there all day? Get inside, unless you would rather have me inspect and try to make repairs here in the dirt?"

Getting low on his tires, deciding that he rather disliked Barricade more for his bossy attitude than being a Con, Bluestreak drove forward slowly and parked in the dusty building. He nearly jumped out of his armor when he felt a large hand slide against his trunk.

Roaring forward, nearly hitting into an old tool chest in reaction, the Con jumped back as Blue barked at the invasion of space, "Don't touch me!"

Shaking his helm, crossing his arms, the Con growled in response, "Your aft is not that good looking, youngling. I was trying to get you to pop your trunk."

Sinking low on his tires, the youngling whispered, "You could have asked."

Sighing, feeling exposed and vulnerable, a part of him wondering if maybe Ratchet would help him if he ran away from Cade, Bluestreak popped his trunk. He tried not to shiver as he listened to heavy peds on the old concrete, one hand being placed on the side of his open trunk. He heard a tisking, the black mech mumbling, "What a pathetic state you are in. Blackout would have had a fit."

Then, turning his helm, he barked, "Frenzy clean off some space. Let's have a look at him."

Bluestreak nearly bulked again as a grey blur came out of a nearby office, throwing what looked like a twenty year old nudy calendar in the air. The small drone then dashed passed the youngling's hood, sliding on the concrete as he jumped onto a nearby table. Frenzy, the grey blur, looked at all the parts there for a moment before he took his arm and pushed the collection of items onto the floor in a parade of dust and heavy clinking noises.

The youngling cringed at every clunk and nearly bulked his entire frame when Barricade reached inside his trunk, pulling the drone out slowly. Then, with a grunt, Barricade threw the larger drone over his shoulder and walked to the table, half dropping the mass of metal on the bench. Frenzy was a blur of metal after that. He was far more medically capable of the two and immediately jacked into the scorpion-bot, the larger drone's tail swinging off the table like a dead limb.

Blue took this time to transform, wondering how lucky Barricade must have been to find a garage they both could stand in as he wrung his hands together like a nervous father outside of a delivery room.

He nearly jumped out of his plating when Frenzy swore something and Barricade turned around barking, his optics glowing a hard red. "Stupid youngling! H-how could you be so-so glitched that you didn't even know how to … ugh! Frag, I don't have time to punish you. Get on your knees!"

Without missing a beat, the elder mech then picked up the larger drone and headed towards a cowering Bluestreak, Frenzy running up Barricade's moving limbs to perch himself on the enforcer's shoulder.

The gunner, taking a step back, was terrified with the rage coming off of Barricade's EM field. Even Frenzy looked ready to maul him. Frag, this was a stupid, stupid, stupid idea! He didn't want to leave Scorponok, but maybe he should run.

Barricade, seeming to catch into the youngling's mindset, growled, "Don't you dare run. I will catch you and I will make this so much worse."

Plating pulling close … somehow the sniper was able to obey.

The enforcer, glad for the easy victory, got in the young-bot's face like he did with young cadets. Predictably, Bluestreak cringing back as if he was going to be hit. The enforcer merely growled though, the tone so low that it was almost a whisper, "On your knees you stupid little fool before I put you there. You will do as I say if you want my help. Is that clear?"

Hands shaking, the Autobot nodded and added in a timid voice, "… Yes, sir."

Wings shivering, trying to keep his leg's from quivering, the younger bot walked to the middle of the garage and slowly knelt, getting onto his knees. Swallowing, just waiting for a strike to come, he placed his hands on the top of his knees and leaned his helm forward as he went stiff. There was only a moment of stillness before Barricade came behind him, the drone being placed down behind him. The mech's hands were then suddenly on Blue's shoulder's which made him go stiff even though the touch was surprisingly warm and not as threatening as the voice had been moments ago.

"Calm down, youngling. I'm not going to strike you today. Though I should for your lack of knowledge in drone care. Just relax your shoulder's, let them droop, raise your door wings away from your body to give me more access."

Blue did as he was told, listening to Frenzy say something before Barricade added, "The port was drilled into your back, yes? Seems like the safest vantage point for your model. Scorponok was never stupid."

Unable to say anything, the Autobot merely nodded, his hands digging into his knees and he felt Barricade undress his back. "Must have healed well, I can't even find it at first glance. Though lots of good energon does that. Now, let's see … where is the mechanism to lift …"

Feeling a servo with sharp talons pulling gently on plate after plate on his armor was unnerving in itself, until the Con got right below the door wings where the port Scorponok had drilled was located. On instinct, the youth dropped his wings and tried to turn around while growling in defense, "Don't touch!"

It was a normal reaction to any new drone carrier, to protect the port, so in reaction Barricade merely slapped the side of youngling's helm. Bluestreak, surprised, nearly fell to the floor as his elder growled, "Ignore your instincts, youngling! You ignored them earlier given our drone's state. So why not now?"

Blue's optics dimmed, the youngling letting his wings drop in a depressed manner as he slung his head forward. It was true. He ignored all the programs. He was … afraid of them. So, without further argument, he held still only twitching slightly at the touches around the back port. He didn't even pull away when he heard a click … a metal covering sliding up.

Bluestreak swallowed as several unknown programs came online, his hands shaking in fear.

Tilting his head, looking at the new wiring and energon engorged lines, the Con felt angry again for a moment. He might be irritated with Frenzy most of the time, but he would have never, never, let him go hungry, especially if he was this well fed. The port was basically just oozing processed energon knowing it had to feed the drone.

Idiot kid ignored his instincts, that much was the frag sure.

Growling in his throat, the black mech murmured, "Looks healed, but let's check."

Not feeling courteous though he knew how a new drone carrier would react, Barricade slide two finger's under the thin metal seal that kept out particles and into the port to make sure that there wasn't a blockage, hitting delicate and new wiring. This caused the youngling's want to rise to his feet stall as the cruiser hit numerous sensors. Messages of pleasure, pain, sickness and multitude of other things nearly overwhelmed him.

The youngling was almost paralyzed by the prying hand, causing the youth to turn his helm and whimper, "W-what are you doing? P-please stop."

Barricade chuckled, an aphotic chuckled as Frenzy leapt onto Blue's back an spread the wings so the port hook-up was bared. The older mech then whispered, "It's okay to scream the first time… new wiring can be so sensitive."

Before the Autobot could even feel nervous or pull away and asked what Barricade meant by that, Bluestreak saw movement around Scorponok. He then felt something slam into his back right into the new port and its raw wires. The input of information and emotions made the grey mech arch before making him fall forwards on his hands and knees as his body was slammed with a gross mixture of pain, pleasure, data, need, hunger, love and voice. It took all that was in him not to collapse completely or release the contents of his tank. But, just as quickly as the rawness had come, it dulled into a throb. It only took him a moment to figure out what had been done as he felt Scorponok's part of the bond, a display popping telling him of needed downloads for drone uplinks and energy amounts being transferred.

Blue shiver, barely noting that Barricade had added in a surprised tone, "Huh, you didn't scream. Well, I bet you screamed like a bleeding little virgin the first time though. The drill fucking hurts for every drone, but the bigger the drone the worse it is. The growth of Frenzy's holding chamber hurt more than the drilling uplink though, trust me. I couldn't move for days."

Offlining his optics, just auto accepting any files, the youngling rubbed his servos before asking, "A-and how is this helping Scorponok? Or are you just torturing me."

Sighing, reaching for an oil drum though he knew that in a little bit he would have a fresh new cube of energon from the idiot kid, Barricade grumbled, "He was hungry so I made sure he was fed. Slagger almost starved to deactivation."

Bluestreak, turning his helm to watch the black mech groan as he sat down against a pealing brick wall, choked, "B-but I gave him energon. H-he was taking his cubes!"

Chuckling, shaking his helm as he ripped off the metal lid, Barricade met the youngling's gaze and growled, "Stupid kid… drones can't process raw energon. Your systems do that for him. If he could feed himself he wouldn't have picked a young and stupid master so desperately. He was starving when he forced himself onto you."

Blue just continued to look at the other in horror.

"He would have starved without a master," said Cade stoically. "So he chose you."

Optics shivering, his voice almost a whisper, Bluestreak dared ask, "So I'm nothing but a meal to him for now and forever."

Barricade's optics grew a little softer and he said nothing to that. Instead, he just whispered he was going to recharge and he'd wake when the drone finally started to stir so he could check for any more problems. Frag, the kid was stupid. Stupid ignorant Autobots. They never understood drones.

Drones were symboits not freeloaders!

They were meant to take care of you and you took care of them in turn. If the youngling couldn't figure that out on his own. He didn't deserve to be told.

XXX

Paw07: Hmmm, Blue, you just made a deal with the devil. Though personally, I love Cade to death.

(Revisions April 2016)