A/N: Not only was last chapter short, but it was a real 'blah' chapter. Well, that's what I think anyway. So here I've tried to get more of 'plot' and not just plain fluff. I don't own Transformers, but I guess you know that :D

And if you want to get a better idea of Harmony's height the way she is now, think of a toddler suddenly growing to the height of a 7/8 year old. She's about mid-thigh level on Jazz, so she's still small and adorable, but she's now more aware.

Just another note that Turning Point may not be updated this Monday. I still have my whopper of an assignment. I just managed to squeeze this out in about an hour.

Disclaimer: Me…own Transformers? Nah.

Family is Forever – A new understanding

When Harmony woke up, the first thing she registered was that she felt strange. She let her processor boot up fully, letting her optics come on slowly, staying still. When her vision cleared, she was relieved to find herself in her room, her beloved soft toy and constant companion Sun-Sun by her side. Sitting up, that's when the white femme remembered going into Ratchet's medbay to get upgraded. She smiled. She was a youngling now! Quickly checking over her frame, Harmony was delighted to find that she was a bit taller and her language centers had upgraded and her memory files were capable of holding much more clearer information.

Sliding off the berth, Harmony had to hold the side of it for a moment as she realised that her doorwings had gotten larger too! She flapped them experimentally, testing the air and sensors picking up on new things, like humidity – just like her father had taught her. Planting her pedes firmly, the white femme waited for her equilibrium chip to adjust to her upgraded frame before she grabbed Sun-Sun and walked over to the door.

Poking her head out the door and down the short hallway, Harmony smiled when she saw her carrier sitting on the couch, drinking his morning ration.

Being the Special Ops mech that he was, Jazz turned his helm, smiling in turn at his daughter. "Hey darlin'. How are ya feelin'?"

Walking around the couch and jumping on it, snuggling into her Papa's side, she replied, "I'm good. Everything feels new. I feel different."

Reaching down to caress the sensor horns on Harmony's helm, Jazz replied, "We all do when we go from sparklin' to younglin'. Ya'll adjust in no time. Ya processor is the thing that's really gonna shock ya though. Ya begin to pick up on things that ya never used to."

Looking into the saboteurs visor, the white youngling asked, "What do you mean Papa?"

With a cryptic smile, Jazz replied, "Now that'd be spoilin' ya learnin' experiences. But ya gotta know, ya father and Ah will answer any question ya got. Ok?"

"Okay. What are we doing today?"

"Actually, Uncle Sunny's lookin' after you for a little bit today. Ah've got some plans to go over with Bee and Mirage, and then we can spend time readin' that book ya were likin' so much. We'll try and finish the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe tonight," replied Jazz, hoisting his now larger daughter into his lap and rubbing their noses together, making her giggle. He relaxed. He was worried that Harmony would have had a bad reaction upon waking – some sparklings when upgraded to younglings did tend to panic because of new sensory input – but the femme on his lap seemed to have taken it in stride. Her giggle was exactly the same.

"Oh. Papa?"

"Yeah?"

Canting her helm to the side, Harmony asked, "Does being a youngling mean that I don't get to stay with you and Father during work anymore?"

Visor turning a deeper blue in thought, Jazz answered, "Well, sometimes, yeah. But that's just because either they're really important meetings or you're going to be in your classes."

"Classes?" queried the white femme, confused.

With a chuckle at the adorable pose, the black and white chided, "Don't tell me ya forgot that most mechs on the Ark are gonna be teachin' ya. Every younglin' gets taught sweetspark."

"Oh," Harmony trilled, expression brightening. "Good. I don't like being away from you for too long."

Her words immediately conjured up images of when Harmony was a sparkling, missing either he or Prowl and going into a tantrum. He smiled gently at his daughter, one of the best things to ever happen to him, before he stood and placed her on his shoulders. Harmony squealed excitedly. She loved being this high.

"Alright milady, where's ya next stop?"

Giggling at her carrier's funny voice, Harmony pointed out the door and cheered, "To Uncle Sunny!" She waved her Sun-Sun in the air excitedly as Jazz walked. Her new developed doorwings could sense so many new things now! She couldn't stop fluttering them. Nor could she marvel at how aware things were now. Her doorwings were sensing so many things; her Papa, the proximity of the walls and ceiling, how close another mech in the hallway was when they passed, the air currents…everything!

Jazz noticed and the beatific smile on his face couldn't manage to fade away.

They finally reached the Twins quarters, but when Jazz hit the chime there was no answer.

The visored mech frowned, jiggling in placed to distract his daughter. Sunstreaker knew Harmony was coming. It was rare for him to miss out on looking after her, the pair had become so attached. He made to open up his comm. link when there was a growl behind him. He turned to see Sunstreaker stomping down the hallway, a furious look on his face.

"Hey Uncle Sunny!" chirped Harmony, as was her customary greeting.

"Don't call me that," growled the yellow mech, reacting on instinct. When he realised it was Harmony he was talking to, some of his horrible mood evaporated. He softened his features and muttered to the hurt looking youngling, "I'm sorry." Then to Jazz he murmured, "Rough morning."

Jazz didn't pry. Sunstreaker had too much pride for that. Instead he flashed his visor in warning. Although the frontliner was the epitome of self-control around his daughter, there was no telling if he might ever lose his grip on that.

Opening the door and taking his niece down from the saboteur's shoulders, Sunstreaker said, "We'll work on some art today. Comm. when you're done."

"Later," farewelled Jazz, blowing a kiss to an uncertain Harmony, who was looking between her guardian and the retreating form of her carrier.

Once the black and white mech was out of sight, Sunstreaker looked down at the femme in his arms and sighed. "Sorry pipsqueak. Didn't mean to scare you."

Harmony made a soft clicking noise and clambered up to wrap her arms around her favourite guardians neck. "You want to talk about it? I'm a youngling now! Papa says my processors will be able to understand more."

Looking into the innocent optics of his charge, Sunstreaker shook his helm and said softly, "I could never place my own burdens on a youngling."

Before Harmony could protest the golden warrior strode inside, depositing her on his berth and going to his storage closet to get his paints and sketchbooks. Regardless of how he felt, his art was his release, and was always a safe activity around Harmony. Well, at least it had been. Only time would tell if the white femmeling would still enjoy their favourite pastime.

When he turned, Harmony was staring at him, pondering him.

It was a look eerily similar to Prowl's.

"Pains or sketch today?" he asked casually.

"Um…sketching please," the youngling replied sweetly, reaching her hands out.

That was a change. Usually Harmony loved painting. With a pang of nostalgia, Sunstreaker realised part of when Prowl and Jazz would have and would feel upon seeing this white femme mature. Still, he handed her the sketch pads and graphite, trusting her with his supplies. He was proud of the fact that he had taught her how to care for his drawing implements, and she followed every instruction to the letter.

When he had seen to it that Harmony had a small cube of energon and was drawing did Sunstreaker turn back to the small canvas in his hands, his paints beside him.

For a moment, there was nothing but an emptiness deep inside of him, and then inspiration burst forth. The white of the canvas was replaced with burnt orange and deep crimson, splashes of purple, before he wrote the words 'glitch' and 'vain' and 'psycho' across it. The black glyphs made a new idea spring to mind. Reaching for the silver with a thinner brush, he daubed in chains around the words, constricting, pulling tight, choking. He hadn't realised Harmony had moved until a little hand rested on his arm and her sweet little voice asked, "Uncle Sunny…what's wrong? You look upset."

Sunstreaker came out of his trance like state and took notice of himself. He had been frowning heavily, frame tense, and he felt a roiling rage in his spark. He shook his helm and tried to smile in reassurance. "It's nothing."

"But," the white youngling protested quietly as she glimpsed the canvas, "those are mean words."

Something clicked in her processor, and she looked up at her guardian's face in astonishment. "Someone called you these names!" she cried out.

Damn Jazz for passing on his emotional perception.

The frontliner quickly moved the painting away and said, "It's nothing."

Confused, Harmony went on, "Uncle Sunny, if mechs are being mean to you, why don't you talk to my Papa? Or my Father? I'm sure they'll make sure that-"

"No. It will make it worse. I'm fine Harmony. It's nothing I can't handle," Sunstreaker interrupted, gathering his niece into his arms to calm her. It would do no good for a certain minibot to continue to provoke him because he had gotten his superiors involved. No, better to solve things on his own terms. He gently stroked over those developing doorwings, marvelling at her growth as she cuddled into him.

Harmony tried again. "But you're not fine. I…I can see it now. You get upset because you think no one thinks you're special."

Sunstreaker felt the urge to curse Primus for gifting Harmony with a sharp processor. "No. Just drop it. We're here to chill, not to discuss any problems I might have. Enjoy your first day as a youngling."

Pouting, unhappy at this, the white youngling sighed and muttered, "Okay. I still think you're special though."

Later that night, curled up on the couch with her creators on either side of her, all of them just finishing the reading of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, when Harmony couldn't help herself and blurt out, "Uncle Sunny was upset today."

"Upset how?" asked Prowl, optics half dimmed from the caresses Jazz was bestowing to his chevron.

"I think some of the mechs were really mean to him. He did a painting with the words vain, glitch and psycho on it. And he was growling this morning too," mused the youngling aloud, looking up at her creators and asking curiously, "Does this happen a lot to Uncle Sunny?"

Prowl exchanged a quick glance with his bondmate before looking back at their creation and said, "I'm glad you picked up on that. It does happen, more frequently than I'd like. Sunstreaker is not defenceless though, and most of the time incidents happen outside of the public optic. However, it is difficult. Whenever a mech has a problem with Sunstreaker, they will report it, but Sunstreaker tends not to report a great majority of the time."

"Why? You could help him. You fix everything Dad."

With a fond smile, Jazz chimed in, "Sunny's got layers sweetspark. He doesn't let many mechs in. That, and he's got a lot of pride. He doesn't like to tattle on anybot and thinks he's mech enough to handle everything himself. He don't like to ask for help because he doesn't want to seem like he's less of himself. Does that make sense?"

Canting her helm to the side to absorb this information, Harmony nodded. "Kind of. I don't think it makes it right."

"And we're not saying that it is. Only that those who wish to be helped sometimes have to actually seek it. My help will be ineffectual if Sunstreaker does not come and seek it," Prowl said, shifting so that they all were cuddled closely together, Harmony half on his and half on Jazz's lap.

Harmony still looked a bit disappointed, but at least she understood.

"I do have some news that might help you cheer up," the tactician said after a moment. Jazz grinned at him as he realised what the information might be.

"What?" asked the femmeling, some excitement coming back to her.

Smiling softly, Prowl announced, "The femmes are coming down from Cybertron to meet you."

A/N: Review please! It boosts my ego in uncertain assignment times like these (thanks uni!). I hope you enjoyed the longer chapter. Now I've set up what happens next ;)