Chapter 12 : Mechs Will Be Mechs

A/N: More into the kid's P.O.V. now, and those who have spotted the last chapter earlier before it was reposted, there's extra story material at the bottom. Sorry again for not including that earlier!

Note: A centillion is a very big number with a lot of zeros.

Strokes of red, white and yellow paint the roads towards the city, where their sleek designs will bask in the light of the humans, congregating around them to admire their automated perfection. Or, to the yellow Lamborghini, his automated perfection. The other less attractive red twin and the incomparable Lancia are just background fillers to his unspoilt beauty.

Sunstreaker is always more beautiful than you (if you're a car), and more beautiful than your owned automobile (if you're a human).

"You're also (ahem), more vain, than the rest of us, bro. Hey, we've reached the city, look at the people," finishing his sentence, Sideswipe predicted that his vehicular brother would slow down to a modest speed, on cue with the word 'people'.

"Vanity comes at such a high price, brother. But damn, I'm so worth it." Sunstreaker basked in the looks and sounds the humans produced in envy and awe of his magnificent self, revving his engines to prove he's just as good on the inside as he is on the outside. "Look, they love me. It's proof."

"Proof that they're got bad taste in colour? C'mon Sunny, if we're not Lambo's, you'd look like a giant shiny lemon-"

"Ssh…quiet, 'Swipe. My fans are checking me out, and they need their concentration."

"So, has he seen Ratchet yet? (You know, about his 'problem-')" the Lancia spoke on the side to the red car. On a rare day when Wheeljack had not welded himself to his lab or finished his Autobot duties, the scientist would drive out to grab some exposure; coincidentally meeting with the twins outside the Ark, the duo immediately became a trio.

"Problem? What prob-" the Lancia drove his hood closer at an angle with the red Lamborghini. "The one where Sunstreaker thinks he's the new sun and who can outshine the old one?"

Sideswipe suddenly shut his engine off. "…Naw, with a shape like this, he thinks he's a giant road roach."

"Poor cockroaches." Wheeljack lamented with deep regret.

"HEY! I SO HEARD THAT!" Sideswipe and Wheeljack swam in their little joke as Sunstreaker jerked in objection to being teased.

"Hey! There are no drivers in these cars!" an older spectator pressed his face against the window of the Autobot scientist. A young woman was about to do the same to Sunstreaker before his engine gnarled in warning.

"That's because we're Transformers-ah, ah, ah, no touchy. Sorry babe, and no photos without permission, my agent would give you a mouthful (y'know, being exclusive and all)."

"(…Sunny has an agent?)" Wheeljack whispered as the human spectators gathered around his striped frame. Sideswipe casually squeaked his front wheels against the tarmac. "Don't we all? Hey…who's that?"

Scanning a nearby music store, Wheeljack found the source of Sideswipe's interest: standing over the counter with a duffel bag hanging on one shoulder was a dark green Transformer, having just bought some CDs. It was half a head higher than the soft-skinned population of the city and it was a young male sparkling. When he had gained enough space from the crowd, Wheeljack reverted back to his root mode, fixated at the smaller robot's existence.

"'Specs doesn't match any minibot we know…or any Autobot and Decepticon, on Earth and Cybertron as well!"

"Must be a newbie then!" Sideswipe followed Wheeljack's actions soon after, side-glancing at his brother when his head emerged in mid-transformation. "No insignia, no nothin'…hey, he's just a kid!"

"A Transformer sparkling, who's…shopping?" Wheeljack looked at the red twin, equally perplexed. Making sure not to injure any passer-bys in his path, Sideswipe deliberately swept his feet to the store and crouched down to have a better view of the sparkling. 'Well, no harm asking-'

"Hey kid! What'cha doing on good ol' Earth?" the Lamborghini's innocent question startled the younger Transformer, to drop his purchased goods hanging precariously in his hand. Alarmed at Sideswipe and the distinctive logo on his chassis, the sparkling's optic points darted to all three Autobots, telling his small feet to turn and escape to the back of the store.

"H-Hey! Wait! I'm not gonna-!" Sideswipe retracted his hand just as fast as he plunged it into the store, startled at the sound his brother's howl of dismay and the reprimanding slap on his fingers.

"My hood! My beautiful hood! I just got myself a new paint job! MY HOOD!" the Lancia trailed the thin line of smoke rising from Sunstreaker's front, and magnified his vision to find a small dent on the yellow bonnet. Folding his offended hand in the other, the red Lamborghini found a senior member of staff brandishing a broom and an unhappy frown.

"What'd you do that for?" Sideswipe exclaimed, and the irate human replied with in a similar tone. "The kid's a regular here and you just scared him off! AND the other customers! Who wouldn't be freaked out at a giant metal hand reaching into the store?"

"People who have robotic alien life-forms as customers?" Looking away from the red Autobot squabbling with Earth's inhabitants, Wheeljack spotted a tiny Cybertronian jet fleeing from the scene. Judging by his size and lack of weaponry, the sparkling probably carried some energon pellets in defence or mischief.

"Wha-? I was just wondering who he was!" Sideswipe checked the man's expression and the others surrounding him. He wanted to know more about the metallic 'regular', but the human shooed the Autobot warrior and his hand away from the entrance. "Okay, okay! Jeez, touchy and armed…"

"By the Matrix, my hood! (My hood my hood my hood)…Gaaah…oh Primus, why? Why Primus, WHY? What did I do to offend YOU? (Aaaaaagh…)"

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He thought he could do anything he wants, because he is Coldshock.

Now he knows that he might, because Megatron is his creator, but he can't, for the same reason that Megatron is the most sober, no-nonsense robot he's ever met in his six months online. The jungle green Transformer wondered how many funerals Megatron had seen to earn a long face like that…probably more than enough. Must be the cannon. The cannon looks heavy. If his creator didn't mind, Coldshock might try and carry one of Megatron's chunky black fingers to test his strength. Without granted permission, the sparkling followed through with his idea when Megatron was in deep recharge.

Now, Coldshock was pinned under a few CENTILLION tons of Autobot-killing metal, and his cannon is really heavy too.

Letting a few solid wire-numbing minutes drift by, Coldshock's creator in his generously merciful state of sleep, granted temporary amnesty to his creation and nonchalantly lifted his arm. Beating a frantic retreat, another catastrophe struck and the creation found himself squashed underneath Megatron's second arm. The Decepticon insignia plastered on Megatron's chest glared back at the sparkling with it's angry, purple face of retribution. Half an hour later, the piteous Transformer managed to shuffle his way up to an even more funereal face and a thought occurred; he was going to look like that one day. Coldshock saw no humour in this tight situation.

Megatron didn't mind though, because he was online the whole time.

He knew Coldshock was in his quarters the micro-minute the external scanners registered the pre-grown Transformer, and the warlord continued to keep his optical sensors offline. In tune to his son's pestering deeds, the larger of the two sluggishly rolled for the kill and crushed the tiny sparkling underneath his side. Contemplating to himself, the Decepticon leader admitted that he did have a natural inquisition towards his own sparkling, but the fact that it was a premature adult put him off. Now the tiny life was crying for it's release.

"(…M-Megatron…Megatron…)" Coldshock mewled his gentlest to wake his creator out of feigned slumber.

'Megatron? Grow some respect, insignificant creature,' the tyrant mentally grumbled. Coldshock's begging now advanced to a physical stage of tapping and tugging at his creator's chin. Understanding the real reason behind Coldshock pulling faces a while ago, Megatron was far from flattered and outwardly refused to listen.

"(…Father…daddy…wake up…please! Please…!)" Coldshock's keening grew more desperate, and his parent was not appreciating the general pawing of his facial structure. Warming his optical sensors to the world, Coldshock watched Megatron's vision slowly glow a healthy red light against his own visage.

'Interrogation time,' Megatron continued the clueless façade. "…What are you doing?"

"(…M-Megatron…)" Coldshock whimpered, padding his creator's face like an abandoned puppy, and he would have none of it. "…Didn't Starscream teach you any manners, sparkling?"

Coldshock shot his hands back to his chest, fiddling his black fingers to think for a moment. "(…Daddy…)"

Megatron rolled his optics at Coldshock's repetition of Earthen terms for parents, but since they are residing on the planet, the tyrant excused the usage in his presence. "You still haven't answered my question. What are you doing here? Where is Starscream?"

"…Mommy's out on duty…and-…and…you're killing me!" Coldshock broke down to a defeated whine, limbs struggling to push Megatron's concrete arms away, and the Decepticon leader lifted his gargantuan weight over his own sparkling. It humoured the tyrant while it lasted and he was already fully recharged for the day. Megatron would have never allowed his sparkling (or himself for that matter) to be in close proximity with each other, but with the weeks spent in the Nemesis, the tyrant had reassessed his alienation towards Coldshock. It started when Coldshock flew out without Starscream's permission, to explore the beach nearest to their headquarters. Megatron predicted he scurried into a jungle too, when the tiny life form ran in the room covered in sand, mud and other organic rubbish. As a symbol of uncleanliness in Starscream's nightmare, Coldshock daringly looked straight at his optics for a solution. Was he supposed to care what chastisement Starscream had installed for their creation?

The warlord was not going to abandon, castigate or aid him that day, so he offered an alternative; a current assessment of the sparkling's predicament, for a clearer perception.

"Coldshock, Starscream told you not to get too dirty and now you're going to be punished for it." Megatron stopped the child from his frantic pouncing around the room. Coldshock had never heard his father call him by name or address him personally, and to hear that large, captivating voice speak words that had never graced his vocal component was a rare treat.

"Finding a place to hide, aren't you?" Coldshock nodded in a neck-breaking motion. Seated in his chair surrounded by deadly calmness, Megatron remained unmoved. "Improvise."

Less than an astrosecond later, Starscream bursts in with livid fury. "COLDSHOOOOOOCK!"

Megatron's audio processors were already shut. The female's banshee cry was unforgettable and he preferred to read her lips. It was the seeker's turn to look him in the optics, and the red Decepticon's blazing glare traced the splotches of dirt decorating the floor. Muddy prints told Starscream that a pair of tiny feet (and the rest of the Transformer who was due for an inconceivable punishment), darted from the entrance, made a slippery U-turn from Megatron and back at the doorway to…disappear. Starscream opened her mouth, and the dictator sighed inwardly, tired of the constant and unimportant questions presented to him. He is Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, not an information booth.

"Was Coldshock flying?" Starscream waited for the sparkling's father to answer.

'Hmph, not what I had expected. Thought she would ask the obvious,' Megatron waited, just to tease Starscream's anticipation. "Yes-"

One red and pewter blur flew from the doorway, just as fast as her entrance. Megatron waited another astrosecond, mulling over Starscream's thoughts. 'So, he flies to evade Starscream and eliminate any trace of his attendance within the Nemesis.'

"You think you're very smart, don't you?" The silver Transformer waited for the sparkling to unlatch himself from the back of his creator's seat, stepping to face his father. "You're only delaying the inevitable, child. Starscream will eventually find you."

An impulsive frown weighed Coldshock's face. Megatron studied his exterior lacking a violet insignia. "…We're not called Decepticons for nothing."

Less than an astrosecond later, Starscream bursts in with livid fury. "I KNEW IT!"

Jilted by Starscream's voice, the previously unprovoked sparkling broke into a violent howl, wetting his face with streaming tears. Megatron's face dropped in quiet surprise when Coldshock ran straight to the creator that was to administer his punishment, and held her leg in inconsolable sorrow.

"I'M SORRY DADDY I'M SORRY! I'LL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! PROMISE! AHHH-!"

Starscream exchanged glances with her astounded leader before her creation's spark-melting expression.

"…Don't you look at me with those big lubricated optics of yours, young mech!" Cue the face which has seen a thousand tragedies and a sad, incurable, broken-sparked whimper. More tears ensures while Starscream's jaw hangs with unintended shock. "Don't-! For Primus' sake-!"

Megatron remained mute as his son charms the female's maternal instincts to work. "Well-! …I hoped you've learnt your lesson, young mech! You'd better get yourself spick and span in the next four astroseconds, all right?"

A sad nod of hopelessness rubs against her leg, and Coldshock shrinks to a pitiful stature of despair. Megatron can see Starscream's weakness adorn her entire frame like a fluorescent bulb in a shed, and the aerial commander gives her partner a worried glance before she exits the room again. As soon as the echo of Starscream's footsteps disappear from the room, Coldshock drops his face-rubbing act like a virus and looks back at Megatron, happy and completely guilt-free.

"…You think you're very smart, don't you?" Coldshock waits for Megatron's verdict. "Cheeky little monster, you've broken my air commander!"

A smile hits both father and son with the older sporting a more snide grin, and Megatron turns his chair back to the monitor. A small pat on his arm brings the tyrant's attention back to the sparkling, standing on the opposite chair with an energon chip in his hand. The creator raises an optic in suspicion of his son, but Coldshock drops the treat in his own mouth instead and leaps from his chair. Grabbing the sparkling's wing, Megatron finds another energon chip in Coldshock's hands and plucks it from him, allowing the mischievous youngster to run away to the showers. Thinking back, the Decepticon leader found the sparkling's antics to be quite amusing, as long as he himself was not too involved.

Then it occurred to Megatron, that his son was old enough to understand the lessons taught in military training. Judging by the way Coldshock's joints were worn, Megatron's child was not aggressively clueless when he was pestering Starscream or rough-housing the Cassetticons. The seeker trio would have taught him some form of basic combat with or without his knowledge. As he lay pinned underneath his creator's arm before, Coldshock was relentlessly jabbing at what would be considered 'more sensitive' circuitry on a normal Transformer; naturally, Megatron was not a common, factory made Transformer.

The Decepticon lord's optics concentrated on his legacy sitting on the berth, stroking himself to check for dents, unaware of Megatron's watchful gaze. Rubbing his black head as he stood up, the Decepticon creation leaned his body against his creator, pushing the tyrant in small frustration and boyish playfulness. At first he tried with his arms extended and his palms flattened on the silver Transformer's arm, which produced no results. Then the sparkling proceeded to iron Megatron with his back, but to no avail. Ducking underneath his creator's arm (which Megatron unintentionally gave leeway to do so), Coldshock made a last ditch effort to actually push his creator's side, only to release a small sigh from Megatron.

'…What is he trying to do?' Megatron looked down at his creation's disappointed face. 'He must be unhappy after I crushed him. Serves the little miscreant right.'

Coldshock stamped his feet on the bed and Megatron responded in kind with a thunderous fist on the same surface. Raising his sight to the corner of the berth, the Decepticon leader saw a pair of optics belonging to the sparkling, who retreated from Megatron's recent attack on the bed. The optics' owner produced a hand to pelt Megatron's arm with an energon chip. Ignoring the rude hand-out, Megatron whipped his creation's puny fingers from the berth, and drew his child's mind elsewhere. A small energon dagger hovered dangerously near Coldshock's face, flickering shut before the silver Transformer thrust the small weapon into the sparkling's palms.

"Show me what you can do, youngling." Coldshock looked up at him. Was it an invitation? The younger Transformer's enquiry was confirmed when his father retracted another blade from his sub pocket. The looming Decepticon looked quite comical, armed with a petite knife no longer than half his palm. Pressing the switch, Megatron's knife revealed a second blade to Coldshock, and the sparkling looked dumbly back at Megatron already in mid-strike for his extendable wings. Tumbling from his father's blade, Coldshock recovered from his forward roll to jam his weapon into the nearest foot. Experience overtook speed and Megatron gave Coldshock a surprise of his own. Instead of averting the attack from his foot, Megatron brought the same foot forward to make contact with Coldshock, and the tyrant gave a straight kick to Coldshock's mid-section. Their sparring session ended when the youngster hit the farthest corner of the room.

Coldshock could not recover fast enough from his father's attack, as he remained bowled over in immense pain and agony upon receiving an oversized foot in his chest. A small whimper exited the kneeling sparkling, as he tried to uninstall the pain that was slowly reaching his senses. Megatron thought his kick would have a lesser effect than that, and pushed his foot underneath Coldshock's chin to separate his offspring from the ground. The sparkling out-rightly refused his father's unintentional charity, and nudged his cumbersome foot away from his crumpled visage.

The nonchalant hiss from the sliding doors betrayed the high security measures designed for the Decepticon leader and invited the last Transformer authorised to enter his room. Scooping her child from wilting into the ground, Starscream returned her focus to Coldshock's father, who turned around in cue to meet a sharp slap from a slim blue hand. Ignoring the tingling sensation rippling his cheek, Megatron arrested the wrist of the offending hand and took the female's lips captive in his own. The seeker's muffled shock curled Megatron's lips in recognition of his small conquest over his partner, until his aerial commander finally plucked herself away from him. Innocent optics observed his mother's reaction in reasonable confusion, and to avoid another awkward confrontation between her leader, Starscream marched off in full scorn with Coldshock in her protective arms, to nurse their pride and joy in a fatherless room.

Owing her a hearty smack, Megatron happily returned the favour by slapping Starscream below her wings, and the seeker almost squeaked at getting her aft smacked. Twirling around to meet the shameless culprit, Starscream couldn't believe the mech had the gall to commit such an act, while she was holding their child in her arms! Bending his fingers towards his palm, Megatron beckoned the femme con to try that experience again. Coldshock silently switched view between Megatron's gesturing and the angriest chin he had ever seen on his mother. Looking downwards at her creation, the female turned to the exit the room, letting the tyrant catch a fleeting smirk at the end of her lips. Alone in his own privacy once again, Megatron took notice of Starscream's justice, impaled on his foot. Removing the energon blade, Megatron flexed the circuitry within his foot, to make sure everything is in working order.

'...Touché, Coldshock. You are not just my son in name...' Withdrawing the blade into it's own handle, Megatron returned his concentration to the monitor in front of him.

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Rubbing his sides, Coldshock felt more like Starscream's creation than Megatron's, after getting into an unfair scuffle with his father. It was play fight to Megatron maybe, but Coldshock felt his life being indiscriminately threatened, and to no surprise. If his creator could treat his son like this, the sparkling couldn't conjure what he did to his enemies, and buried the idea in the recess' of his circuit board. Tucked comfortably in his mother's smooth azure arms, Coldshock observed their room for an astrosecond. The red seeker did share a bed with his father, but she wanted a room to retreat to and still call her own; now this private quarters is known as 'Starscream and Coldshock's Room'. The youngster frowned at the idea: she promised him that this was his room! …Okay, she didn't promise him or even use the word, but the principles were distinct. A composed hum from her systems reassured the sparkling's security, lying next to his mother's body. The creation was perplexed as to how the red seeker could be aloof to his presence one minute, and explode into a riot of emotions the next, if anything that threatened his existence was within a mile of his being.

Two astroseconds roll by and Coldshock had not succumbed to a state of recharge yet, waiting listlessly for sleep to claim his neural processors. The youngling thought of facing his mother's reflective surface to pull faces, or pry the yellow cockpit open and feel the texture of the human sized seats. Coldshock knew his mother was aware of this habit and she wilfully ignored it, so he would store some snacks for her to eat, or place a small message chip ladled with his colourful doodles. Those would disappear in the next few days, but now his mother had a secret box which had the impression of being unopened. A humble blue light cloaked his mother's breast, bringing the child away from his creator's arms to stare at her personal computer.

A female, much younger than his creator, graced the monitor with a sullen face. She had a bland grey helmet, crowned with a three-pronged violet chevron halfway cut off-screen, and her vermillion optics was a good indication of her Decepticon alliance. The reception was crackling her message at first, but Coldshock was already leaning captivated at the screen.

"…-Mmh-…-kkhkhhhhhhhhhhhhh-…" a small hand banged the monitor in encouragement. Coldshock wanted to help her with wordless incentive, but couldn't realise the reason behind her familiarity.

"Greetings, Earth, this is Teratron, sub-…-kkh-…-sub-commander of the Deceptic –kkkhth- Decepticon female -khhhkth- legion."

"I have survived the last assassination attempt and have executed precautionary actions to-att-att-att-…evade my enemies."

"Will return to Earth soon to report of my late-latesuurrrrrrp-…Code number F-16-16-16-16792axooo0999."

"If you receive this message, please notify Megatron or sub-commander Starscream of my well-being."

"All hail Megatron, leader of the Decepticons."

Coldshock rattled the screen until he got a clearer resolution of the female.

"Mother, please do not worry-rry-rry…Teratron, out."

Coldshock turned around to rustle his creator out of her slumber, but there was no need when Starscream was standing dumbstruck behind her child.

A/N: BIG GASP! Thank you for your favs, alerts, reviews and encouragement! Proly' gonna revisit this to correct it, 'cause with this chapter I'm not being entirely consistent.

Um, if you're wondering what Teratron looks like, you can visit my homepage.