AN: Usually I wait a couple of weeks before posting the next chapter, but this one and the last one were really one REALLY long chapter that I had to break up. With that in mind, I decided to go ahead and put this one up sooner than later. Because I love you all so much. ^_^
Special treat this chapter – the addition of an "omake", which is basically an extra scene in the story that I couldn't fit into the main chapter. I really wanted to write the scene, but I didn't want to interrupt the flow of the story. Hence, the "omake." I probably won't do it again, but hey, you never know.
This chapter was inspired by this comic page on deviantart: http: // bloody chaser. deviantart. com/ art/ BabySit -Cha -02 -P11- end -109160632
Obviously you'll need to remove the spaces.
Vorn = 83 years/1 TF year
Deca-orn = 20 weeks/10 orns/1TF week
Orn = 2 weeks/1 TF day
Joor = 6 hours/1 TF hour.
Breem = 8.3 minutes.
Klick = less than a second
Ch. 6 – Playmates
Rewinding the security vid, then fast forwarding it, revealed that the manifestation of Prowls worst fear wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be.
"What is that?" he asked blandly when the red and yellow blurs materialized around the startled Bluestreak, catching him in a miniature tornado before the youngling could knock on the door.
Red Alert, breaking his perfect professional character, face palmed.
"Those would be the pair of hellions I had naively hoped would be able to behave themselves unsupervised for a joor or two," he dead panned.
"They're with you?" Prowl asked as he watched the red one use Bluestreak as a shield against the yellow one (his grip was bad, too close to the wing hinges and potentially damaging if Bluesteak should trip).
"No point in denying it," Red Alert said with an air of resignation. "They're a pair of twelve vorn old twins named Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They also happen to be my younger brothers."
Prowl snaps his head around, honestly shocked by the revelation. "Brothers? Why are your…"
The look on Red Alerts face (who is still watching the monitor) was enough to prompt Prowl to look back himself. Just in time too, as the inevitable consequence of spinning a youngling around too fast shortly after breakfast made itself known…all over Sunstreakers legs.
'So that's where the purged energon came from,' Prowl thought, moderately relieved.
"Serves him right," Red Alert commented with a smirk. Even Prowl couldn't repress a quick quip at the corner of his mouth in an odd sense of vindication.
The budding good humor was sucked dry when the yellow youngling loomed over Bluestreak in blatant intimidation. There was no audio, but Prowl didn't need it; he had a perfect view of the expression on Bluestreaks face when he started crying.
Prowls hand sporadically clenched on his crossed arms.
Red Alert cringed. "I do apologize for Sunstreakers behavior. He often fails to understand how…intimidating he can be sometimes."
"Hm," Prowl responded neutrally, watching Sunstreaker flail as if flustered by the crying youngling, only to resort to yelling at him and making him cry harder instead.
Prowls intense dislike for Sunstreaker – and Sideswipe, for just standing there and not doing anything to stop his brother – was growing exponentially by the klick.
"What are your brothers doing on base?" Prowl asked as Sideswipe shook the knot-doll in front of Bluestreaks face as a distraction.
Red Alert gave him an odd, sidelong look. "Presumably for much the same reason yours is."
Prowl frowned in thought. Certainly Bluestreak wouldn't be the only youngling orphaned or displaced by the war, but he couldn't recall any recent tumultuous events that would leave these brothers homeless, and anything more than two deca-orns ago would have left enough time to get them to Elita's contingent where they could be sent to a neutral city or –
Wait.
"Bluestreak is not my brother."
"He's not?" Red Alert said in surprise. He looked back at the screen, and even Prowl could see him trying to do the math in his head.
"He's not my creation either." Prowl was quick to clarify (and Red Alert looked somewhere between embarrassed and relieved). "We are not related in any familial way."
Now Red Alert looked simply confused. "Then what does – they're leaving."
Prowls attention snapped back to the screen. Based on what he knew of Bluestreak and what he had already gleaned from the twin's personalities, he had already predicted that Bluestreak would be lead away by the twins for their amusement or some such, and he, being the youngest, smallest, and shyest, wouldn't find it in him to protest.
So when it was Bluestreak who grabbed Sideswipe by the arm and took the lead, it just about made his probability circuits sputter and die.
That…that wasn't supposed to happen. Bluestreak was shy, and deferential, and preferred to be in the background rather than the center of attention. He didn't take the lead, and he didn't disobey, and he never wandered off with anyone else, especially someone he didn't even know. This went completely against his character! Prowl knew him better than that!
Didn't he?
"Prowl, how well does Bluestreak know the base layout?" Red Alert asked, bringing the black and white mech back to the present.
"Bluestreak has never explored the base on his own," Prowl explained. "He's only ever followed me. I don't know if he's committed any of the base to memory or not."
"He seemed confident enough, so we might as well assume as much," Red Alert decided as he stood. "Considering what we just watched, there is only one place they, or rather Sunstreaker, would want to go."
oOoOoOo
: : Jazz, how close are you to the wash racks right now? : :
: : Hello t' you too Prowl. Believe it or not, I'm standing right outside them. : :
: : You are? Is Bluestreak still there? : :
: : Yeah, he is. And Prowl? I think you're really gonna want t' see this. : :
oOoOoOo
It's already been well established that Prowl is not a terribly expressive mech. Popular wisdom holds that lack of expression is generally due strongly to lack of emotion. Or at least strong emotion felt by most healthy bots. In fact, Prowl was so well known for his aloof, even stony disposition, he was already infamous for it. For instance, in this moment all Prowl could do was watch with focused, unshuttering optics (not to different than usual, he was usually focus to the point of almost scary intensity) that were just marginally wider than normal.
Jazz correctly surmised that this would be the closest Prowl could get to open-jawed disbelief.
"What are they doing?" Prowl asked simply, not taking his optics off the sight inside the washracks that the adults had yet to enter.
Jazz grinned as he leaned forward and twisted around to look at Prowl in the face, his servo's clasped behind his back.
"Most mechs would call it 'playing'," he answered, carefully enunciating the last word as if it were in a foreign language.
Prowl considered a snide witticism that a mech unfamiliar with his ways might mistake for sarcasm, but plum forgot too when Bluestreak ran by and nearly slipped and fell straight back on the wet floor, but with the biggest grin he had ever worn since Prowl fist saw him.
Bluestreak was playing. Interacting. Socializing. On his own. At his own initiative.
Without needing Prowl at his side.
For the past deca-orn, Bluestreak had been his constant shadow, to the point where Prowl had just taken for granted that the youngling was right behind and next to him. He had always stayed close, trusting Prowl to keep him safe, occasionally smiling to others but not allowing anyone the same amount of trust he gave Prowl, not even Jazz. Now here he was, engaging in play with two complete strangers (fellow younglings yes, but strangers all the same and Bluestreak was NEVER comfortable with strangers) and for all the world had completely forgotten about his Caretaker.
Technically, this was a good thing. It spoke volumes of Bluestreaks level of comfort, and couldn't be anything but a positive sign of his emotional recovery after his traumatic ordeal. Even if he had disobeyed Prowl and should be disciplined for it (how was Prowl supposed to do his duty as his Caretaker if he willfully disobeyed?) he couldn't find it in himself to be too upset with the grey youngling anymore. So yes, this was a good, positive turn of events.
And yet, it left Prowl with an unusual sensation of…wrongness. That it was too fast, too soon, too…easy.
It was a completely illogical reaction, so Prowl resolved to dismiss it in its entirety.
Too bad he was standing with a mech who excelled at picking up these sorts of annoying details.
"Relax Prowl, ya don't have t' get all jealous," Jazz assured him as he leaned against the doorframe with one arm.
Prowl jolted slightly and looked over at the saboteur disapprovingly.
"I am not jealous, because I have no reason to be jealous," Prowl told him firmly. "This is normal behavior, and is a sign that Bluestreak is beginning to emotionally recover from his experiences. There is no rational reason to have a negative reaction to a positive development."
"Mm-hm. Don't worry, you're still his favorite. It's not like you've been dumped or anything."
"…Were you not listening just now?"
Red Alert, standing on Prowls other side with his arms crossed and leaning against the door frame, tactfully chose to ignore them both.
Bluestreak made a lucky shot right into Sideswipes face, leaving the red twin sputtering and clearing the way for a risky getaway dash away from the wall and out into the open past the door. Bluestreak twisted around to check for Sunstreaker, and finally caught a glimpse of his audience.
He couldn't have frozen faster if he had been dropped into liquid nitrogen.
His mirth evaporated even faster.
Bluestreak tossed the bottle away as if it burned him in a futile attempt to hide the evidence. He wrung his hands in front of him, standing in the middle of the room and facing Prowl nearly four body lengths away but suddenly finding the floor to be absolutely fascinating. Even his wings were lowering slightly in submissiveness. He couldn't have looked more contrite if he had practiced for this moment.
Too bad Sunstreaker didn't notice in time to stop from spraying him full force on the side of the head.
"Bluestreak, the point is to avoid getting shot, remember?" Sunstreaker informed the younger one as he came over. Only then did he notice the audience as well.
"…Oh frag."
"Sunstreaker!"
"Sorry Red Alert."
There wasn't much point in hanging out in the hall any longer, so Prowl took the lead in coming inside the wash racks, where the younglings (joined by Sideswipe) waited. The twins looked more disappointed than anything, and Bluestreak…the closer Prowl came, the more he seemed to curl up into himself into a pathetic, defensive little ball, just waiting for awful punishment.
'Just what does he think I'm going to do?' Prowl wondered, unwittingly echoing Ratchets own question from his first meeting with the youngling. Then again, he had never been in trouble before; he had no way of knowing what to expect, but seemed geared to assuming the worst.
Prowl would never admit this out loud, he didn't even acknowledge it to himself…but for reasons that had nothing to do with logic or reason, it was completely, totally, utterly impossible to stay mad at a little youngling who just looked so sorry.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, however, were not finding nearly as much mercy in Red Alert.
"Contrary to what the two of you might have thought," Red Alert said, crossing his arms and looking sternly down at his siblings, "when I said 'stay in the room and wait for me to come back,' it was NOT up to interpretation. You both already know what this means, of course."
"But we-!" Sideswipe started, but his defense quickly died under the unmovable Red Alerts Look. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine…"
Bluestreak gave Sideswipe a sidelong, sympathetic look.
Until his energy spiked right back up again.
"But can we at least finish our game first?!" Sideswipe asked eagerly. "Bluestreak's like three points ahead still!"
"He is?" Jazz asked, genuinely surprised that Bluestreak had been doing so well against younglings four vorns older than him.
Even Red Alert seemed a little startled. "Really? Isn't he, what, five or six vorns younger than you?"
"It's only four! I'm begging you Red, at least hold off until I can regain my honor!"
"You don't have any honor," Sunstreaker pointed out.
"Then Red can hold off until I get some honor!"
Jazz was snickering in his hand, and even Red Alert was having a hard time not looking amused. But Prowl, however, was paying more attention to Bluestreak.
Up until this moment, Bluestreak had kept his head and wings low in submissiveness, twisting his hands in anxiousness. But when Sideswipe spoke up to Red Alert, Bluestreaks head had snapped up to stare at him in shock and trepidation, as if he knew Sideswipe had done something terrible and was about to suffer for it. But when Red Alert just bantered right back at him, Bluestreaks trepidation morphed into shock and confusion, as if he had been expecting one thing and had gotten something entirely different.
Prowl had recently become uncomfortably familiar with the sensation.
Red Alert sighed. "Well, alright. I'll give you another two breems to 'regain your honor', but you come quietly after that, alright?"
"Yes sir!" Sideswipe chirped with a crisp salute, and even Sunstreaker looked pleased.
Bluestreak's jaw dropped as all higher processor function temporarily ceased. Higher processor function returned after he got a face full of water courtesy of Sideswipe, who in turn was ambushed by Sunstreaker and forced on the run. Bluestreak started to follow, but hesitated, and looked back at Prowl uncertainly.
….Discipline could wait a couple more breems.
"Go." Prowl said simply.
That proved permission enough for Bluestreak, and within klicks the game had resumed, with the adults leaning against the wall way out of the line of water.
"Been a while since I saw this," Jazz said, sounding a bit wistful. Red Alert nodded in agreement.
"Almost makes you wish you were young again, doesn't it?" he said as he leaned back against the wall.
Memories of his own younglinghood rose unbidden in Prowls CPU. He couldn't say he shared Red Alerts sentiments.
Bluestreak was kneeling next to one of the dividers in the racks, laying in wait for one of his victims to stray too close. He peeked his head out to look around, checking if the coast was clear. He saw Sideswipe rapidly filling his bottle his bottle (unarmed and exposed, the sweetest target of all), but he also caught a glimpse of the adults leaning against the wall (well, Jazz and Red Alert were leaning, but Prowl wasn't because that might give the mistaken impression that he was relaxing and Prowl Does Not Relax, or so he keeps being told) talking quietly with each other and partially watching the game.
Bluestreak was struck with, what was to him, an absolutely insane idea that completely went against all the unwritten rules of youngling-adult interaction conduct. But his coolant was rushing with excitement, and emboldened even further by witnessing the casual interaction between Sideswipe and Red Alert (he still couldn't believe that Sideswipe wasn't punished for speaking up like that!), Bluestreak was already hurrying over before he had a chance to think about it too much and convince himself out of it.
Prowl took a step forward to meet him. "Is something wrong Bluestreak?"
His answer was a squirt bottle filled with water being shoved into his hands.
Prowl blinked.
"No fair! No reinforcements!" Sideswipe loudly protested, which Sunstreaker echoed.
Bluestreak patted himself, pointed up at Prowl, then held up two fingers, which he used to point at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.
Me and Prowl against you and Sunstreaker, two on two.
For Prowl, this was not an anticipated turn of events. Adults did not join in youngling games, because they had long since grown past the need for it. Younglings did not invite adults because it was an intrusion on the socialization and bond creation that was built into the play, and younglings tended to restrain themselves too much when adults interacted, making it too awkward. What Bluestreak was doing, trying to include Prowl was…kind, but misguided, and Prowl couldn't let him make that mistake.
"Bluestreak, this is your game, I shouldn't-" Prowl tried to explain.
"Nu uh!" Sideswipe interrupted loudly as he came over. "If you get Prowl, then I get Red Alert!"
The red twin grabbed his befuddled elder brother's arm defiantly. Bluestreak tilted his head thoughtfully, before turning back to Sunstreaker and pointing to him and the grinning Jazz with an inquisitive expression.
So do you want to partner up with Jazz then?
"Yeah sure why not," Sunstreaker said with a shrug. "Least it'll still be fair."
"But…this isn't…" Prowl tried to say, except his protest petered out when he realized he had no idea whatsoever what the appropriate response was within his limited understanding.
"Hey Prowl," Jazz said with an evil smirk. "Here's a hint – forget logic for two klicks an' just enjoy the moment fer once."
With that, Jazz squirted Sideswipe, who took off hollering. Jazz chased after Sideswipe while Sunstreaker chased after Jazz while Red Alert came around to cut them all off and save his partner from a certain soaking. Prowl watched them all blankly, as two reasonable adults (well, one reasonable adult and Jazz) started playing around as if they were younglings themselves, and freely sacrificing their dignity in the meantime.
He felt a light tugging at his arm, and he looked down at Bluestreak, who was looking back up at him.
"I've never been one for games, even when I was your age," Prowl told him. "Play with Jazz and the others if you like, but I don't feel that it would be befitting for a mech of my position…"
Bluestreak stepped a little closer so he was looking almost straight up at Prowl, his other hand coming up to rest next to his other one as his wings lowered and his optics became just a little bit shiner and his bottom lip jutted out just slightly, looking smaller and more vulnerable than Prowl had seen him before, not unlike a turbo puppy who had just been kicked and didn't understand what he had done to deserve, but was very sorry anyway.
"…to participate for more than a breem or two."
Bluestreaks wings perked right back up as he gave his Caretaker the most radiant smile he had ever seen, and Prowl completely forgot why he had been so against this 'venture' in the first place.
Prowls entry into the game was awkward at first, but after a few klicks of watching everyone else and getting a feel for the unofficial rules, he caught on pretty fast. He caught on even faster once he discovered that his battle computer was surprisingly useful in this situation, much to Bluestreaks delight, and prompting everyone else to gang up and try to soak the still dry strategist. The water game eventually degenerated into running and sliding around on the slick floor, turning the room into an impromptu slip-n-slide, then into a game rink where the adults played a game of turbo ball, improvising goals with setting up empty bottles and using their respective younglings as the pucks, to their delight. Bluestreak didn't shriek with delight and demand "Faster! Faster!" like the twins did, but he practically glowed with mirth as he spun around across the floor.
Jazz paused for a klick when he heard another mech laughing. He actually looked up to see if someone had walked by the still open door and had stayed to watch to show.
But, there was no one at the door. Confused, Jazz glanced around looking for the mysterious laughing mech…until he saw Prowl.
Prowl was, for the first time since Jazz met him, smiling and laughing. It wasn't a huge laugh, not like the bellows that were Ironhides trademark, or as high spirited as Sideswipes. It was more like a hearty chuckle than anything, but it was his own spark felt laugh as he played with his temporary ward, pushing him across the wet floors.
Jazz was so startled to see such expression from the stoic Prowl he actually froze in mid motion, his CPU going completely blank at the first ever honest to Primus time anyone heard Prowl laugh. He paid for it when he missed catching Sunstreaker and let the yellow youngling slide past to crash upside down into the wall, to Sideswipe's hilarity.
At the end of it all, three tired younglings and three exhausted mechs rested against opposite walls, facing each other but in their own groups, with their respective Praxians in the centers. Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, and Sideswipe were writing messages to each other using Bluestreaks small datapad, passing it among themselves like secret messages under the instructor's olfactory sensor.
"So…anybody wanna tell me how our youngling count tripled last time I checked?" Jazz asked.
"That would be my fault," Red Alert confessed. "When Optimus contacted me about the Security Director job, my first reaction was to thank him, but inform him that I could not accept any posting that separated me from my brothers. He immediately invited me to bring them as well, after asking how old they were."
"Is that so?" Prowl said simply.
"It's hardly going to be a permanent arrangement," Red Alert added quickly. "They're on a list for safe houses. As soon as there is an opening someplace I'm satisfied with, I'll send them there for the duration of the war."
"But you're keepin' them with ya 'till then?" Jazz asked.
"I have full trust in the Contingents ability to protect the Neutral camps and shuttles between Neutral cities," Red Alert said. "But I know my brothers better than anyone. It's better for me to watch them for as long as I can and let the femmes concentrate on the younglings who don't have anyone else."
"A military base will always be a target," Prowl pointed out. "Bluestreak is here because he's trapped by circumstance. But you could have sent your brothers to the Contingent before they were pinned down. Aren't you worried about what will happen if we're attacked?"
"Constantly," Red Alert answered bluntly. "Just like how I would be constantly thinking and worrying about them if I passed them onto someone else. At least here I can take measures to keep them as safe as possible, and as Security Director I have far more resources than a foster family will have."
"An' helpin' th' rest of us is just a perk," Jazz said, half in jest.
"Yes, well, whatever works," Red Alert replied with a shrug.
Prowl recalled how the red and white had gone over the security with the metaphorical fine tooth comb, zooming in on the most miniscule of imperfections and treating every atom sized hole as if it were a breach in defenses with glowing signs pointing the way for Decepticons.
"Is that why you're so careful with security?" he asked.
"Partly," Red Alert admitted carefully. "It's the only way I can be sure I'm doing everything I can, by asking myself every time 'do I trust this to keep them safe.' Even if the odds are a million to one, the impossible only has to happen once for either Sunstreaker or Sideswipe to pay the price. I could never forgive myself if that ever happened."
Prowls optics flickered to Bluestreak.
"I think I understand," he said quietly.
"Well, I for one am glad that Blue's got some playmates now," Jazz said brightly, breaking the somber mood that had started to settle. "Kid really needed it. Frag, I needed it. Can't remember the last time I felt this relaxed, an' I'm guessin' you two did too."
"At the utter expense of our dignity, I might add," Prowl said dryly. "We're just lucky that no one came by and saw us like that. I would never be able to get anyone to take me seriously again."
"Nah, it'd just show everyone yer just like th' rest of us, Prowler."
"That would hardly excuse my…excuse me. Did you just call me 'Prowler'?"
"Yep. S'your new nickname. His is gonna be 'Red,' just so ya know."
"How original," Red Alert deadpanned.
Prowl raised an optic ridge at the saboteur. "I was under the impression that a nickname was supposed to be shorter than the full name for sake of convenience if the full name was too long. However, it is for that reason that I do not need a nickname. My name is only one syllable long."
"Exactly. Can't exactly make it any shorter, 'cuz what would I call ya? Pro? Pow? Prl?"
"Jazz, you DO know what a 'prowler' is, do you not?"
"Yeah. So what's your point?"
"What's Bluestreaks story anyway?" Red Alert asked curiously.
Prowl sobered slightly. "We found him in what was left of Praxus a couple of orns after the attack."
Red Alerts optics widened. "Ohh…"
He was silent for a long moment.
"What would have been after the Contingent was pinned down by Shockwaves forces, wouldn't it?" he asked.
"That's right," Jazz said, leaning forward on his drawn up knee to speak to Red Alert from across Prowl. "So we're holdin' him in the meantime. Since Blue took such a likin' t' Prowler here ("My names not Prowler, its Prowl.") he gets t' be his interim Caretaker."
"So that's what you meant by 'trapped by circumstances,'" Red Alert mused. "Does this mean you will be sending him to the Contingent once it is safe again?"
"That is the plan, yes," Prowl took over. "But we don't anticipate that happening for another four or five deca-orns."
"More like three." Jazz put in.
"Pardon?"
"Blue's been here for one deca-orn already, so it's closer to three left, maybe four tops," Jazz corrected.
"…That's right. Thank you Jazz."
That was the plan, Prowl had known this perfectly well and completely agreed with it. The HQ was reasonably adequate for a temporary safe house, but it was no place for a youngling to stay indefinitely. Even Red Alert acknowledged that. For the sake of his safety and to have a chance at a normal life, Bluestreak needed to be taken to a real home with foster parents who could give him what he needed. These were the indisputable facts, and Prowl knew it would be illogical to argue otherwise.
So why did his spark feel so heavy all of a sudden?
"Bluestreak is the quietest youngling I've ever met, but he's doing better than I would have expected considering what he must have gone through," Red Alert was saying. "Even the twins have taken a shine to him, and they hardly ever let anyone in. I'm still trying to figure out how Bluestreak managed it."
"Blue's been gettin' adopted by just about everyone who so much as looks at him," Jazz said with a grin, leaning back against the wall. "Kids somethin' special a'ight."
Prowl let his head fall back and his gaze fall naturally on the grey and red youngling directly in front on him, covering his mouth and silently giggling at whatever Sunstreaker had written while Sideswipe leaned over him to smack his brother lightly on the shoulder. The three of them were already acting like fast friends even with the age difference.
Unbeknownst to Prowl, a small, fond smile formed as his expression subtly softened into something akin to affection.
Yes. He is.
~ Meanwhile, with the younglings ~
So you really can't talk? Is your vocalizer broken or something?
I don't think so. It's more like, I can think the words I want to say, but they get stuck in my throat whenever I try to talk. Sometimes it gets so bad, I feel like I'm choking, so I stop trying.
THAT SUCKS. DOESN'T IT GET ANNOYING USING THE DATAPAD ALL THE TIME?
Sometimes, especially when some of the adults here start talking at me.
Don't you mean "to me?"
No, I mean "at me." They're not mean or anything, but I can kind of tell they don't expect me to be able understand everything they're saying, and usually they're talking so much I don't have time to type anything before they're already talking about something else. It gets really boring, and annoying, having mechs talk to me like I'm a sparkling. At least Prowl and Jazz talk to me like I'm normal.
SO JUST TUNE OUT THOSE OTHER BOTS NEXT TIME AND THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE, LIKE YOUR FAVORITE VID. SO LONG AS YOU SMILE AND NOD OCCASIONLLY THEY'LL NEVER NOTICE YOU STOPPED LISTENING. NOT LIKE THE BOTS YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT WOULD CARE ANYWAY.
I have to agree. You're already smarter than most of the adults I know, so you'd better just tune those morons out before they dumb you down to their level.
Sideswipe, why are all your messages in caps?
BECAUSE IT GIVES ME AWESOME MIND CONTROL POWERS.
How the slag does it give you mind control powers?!
BECAUSE WHEN YOU READ MY MESSAGES, IT'S LIKE I'M YELLING IN YOUR HEADS.
…
I FIND THAT TO BE SO COOL.
I find you to be an idiot.
YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WROTE OUT THE INCREDULOUS SILENCE, SMARTAFT!
He's got a point, Sunstreaker.
Traitor.
What are you guys doing here, anyway? Are any other younglings going to be coming? Where are they all going to stay? I don't think Prowl's room is going to be big enough for everyone. Red Alerts room would have to be really big to fit everyone. Is he your Caretaker?
UM, WE'RE HERE BECAUSE RED IS, AS FAR AS I KNOW WE'RE THE ONLY YOUNGLINGS HERE, REDS ROOM IS AVERAGE I GUESS, AND YEAH, REDS OUR CARETAKER, SORT OF. HE'S ACTUALLY OUR BIG BROTHER, BUT HE GOT CUSTODY AFTER OUR CREATORS DIED.
Did you just spell out 'um?'
MUTE IT SUNSTREAKER.
Bluestreak was still stuck on what was, to him, a world shaking revelation.
So Red Alert is your Caretaker AND your brother?
Yeah. Our creators died when we were really young, and since Red Alert is our closest relative, he got custody. He's been raising us ever since, so I guess technically he's our Caretaker too. Kind of like you and Prowl.
DON'T LOOK AT US LIKE THAT BLUE. EVEN I CAN TELL HE'S YOUR BROTHER.
Yes, even 'he' can tell, Bluestreak.
ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME AGAIN?
Wait, he IS your brother, right? Or is it more like a cousin or something?
Bluestreak started to correct them, Prowl wasn't his brother, he just found him, he was just lucky that Prowl was his Caretaker.
Except…
When Bluestreak thought of it, of what it would be like to have Prowl for a brother, something inside of him glowed and felt warm. Something about it was…familiar, in the nicest way possible. An older sibling that took care of him in the place of Creators, who talked to him, kept him close, chased away the nightmares and protected him…it just clicked.
Red Alert was their brother, AND their Caretaker. Prowl was already his Caretaker, and he was, he was familiar, and he couldn't remember his family anyway, so it wasn't like it was impossible, and if it was real, then…
Yes, he's my brother.
I KNEW IT!
But you have to keep it a secret. Prowl says we can't tell too many bots about it.
Why?
I'm not sure. That's just what Prowl said.
GOTCHA. MY LIPS ARE SEALED.
They will be after I seal them for you.
YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO FAITH IN MY DISCRETION, DO YOU?
Of course not. I know better than that.
Sideswipe reached over and lightly smacked Sunstreaker on the shoulder while Bluestreak silently chuckled into his hand.
Prowl as his brother. Just thinking of it filled him with a sense of warmth, and it surprised even him how much better it made him feel. It was like something had been missing and he hadn't realized it until he saw it. He had forgotten everything, but right now, he felt like he had just gotten back something precious.
Even if it was only pretending, it was enough for now.
Bluestreak glanced over at Prowl, just in time to catch the look on his face.
If he had breath, it would have taken it away.
Prowl's head was tilted slightly, with a small smile and soft optics, an expression Bluestreak had never seen before. It was fond, it was gentle, it was lo- it was the way you look at someone who was, who was…who mattered. Who was prec- Bluestreak couldn't even bring himself to think the words lest it prove to be wrong, except he knew that look because he recognized it from somewhere
Soft blue optics glowed and a small gentle smile of fond amusement head tilted a bit watching him and his antics just like all the times before, that same soft fond smile
as if he had seen it a hundred times before, even if he couldn't remember his spark remembered what it felt like because he had seen it so many times.
But in the exact same klick he realized he remembered that look (that "fond" look that you save for only certain bots like little brothers you took care of because you l- you cared for them) he realized that the look Prowl was giving him now it was totally, absolutely, completely wrong.
Dark grey helm with dark green chevron and a rounder younger face
It was so close but so different and so familiar and so wrong and the difference is so subtle and stark and contrasting it almost physically hurts and he doesn't understand why
Pulls him in for tight hugs like the dozens, no, hundreds of times before, and a light laugh and gentle voice that says
Except that now it feels like he's missing something huge and important and he can't remember what it is, and it's breaking his spark and it hurts.
"I love you so much, you know that Bitty Brother?"
Plip. Plip. Plip.
Prowl expression switched to shocked worry as he hurriedly stood up. "Bluestreak?"
Bluestreak shuttered his optics, realizing belatedly that he was crying again.
"I didn't do it this time!" Sunstreaker called out quickly, throwing his hands up and leaning away from the grey youngling next to him.
Prowl kneeled down in front of the Praxian youngling, who was rubbing at his optics and the tears that just kept coming.
"Bluestreak, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked.
Bluestreak shook his head, because even he didn't know what was wrong (it was wrong, it was all wrong wrong wrong but he couldn't remember why) except that it made him sad and his spark hurt and that Prowl (so familiar so different and wrong) was making it worse.
Jazz and Red Alert came over as well, and the twins were kneeling on either side of the crying youngling, looking concerned but utterly lost as to what they were supposed to do, never having had to comfort younglings before.
Prowl pulled Bluestreak close, stunning him into brief stillness, gathered him up in his arms and stood, with one arm beneath Bluestreaks knees and the other behind his back, mindful of the wings. Jazz was struck by the similarity with how they had looked the first time he had seen Bluestreak, with Prowl coming out of the ashes with the youngling in his arms.
"I'm taking him back to my quarters," Prowl told them all. "Red Alert, I'm afraid the rest of our meeting is going to have to wait for another time."
"Of course," Red Alert said with a nod. "Take as much time as you need."
Prowl gave a quick nod to them all, before leaving with the quietly crying Bluestreak in his arms. Red Alert sighed, and pulled his brothers to their pedes as well.
"We might as well head back ourselves," he said. "Break time is over, and we do still need to go over your punishment for wandering around the base unsupervised when I explicably told you to wait."
"Bolts. I was hoping you forgot about that," Sideswipe muttered. Red Alert placed a servo in the middle of their shoulders and guided them both out the door, stopping briefly when Sunstreaker gathered some items by the door.
Jazz cycled a breath of air as he rubbed the back of his neck. No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't pin what set Bluestreak off like that. One klick he was smiling and looking just dandy, then he takes one look at Prowl and starts bawling. Primus. He prided himself on his ability to read bots, but he was no psychologist. He had no way of being able to discern what was going on inside Bluestreaks head. They all assumed he was doing alright, but…
"Maybe he ain't doin' as good as we thought," Jazz muttered.
Jazz then became aware of another thing: water all over the floors, the tiles sudsy from spilt solvent, empty bottles scattered all over the place, and he was the last mech in the room…which meant clean up duty fell to him.
"You have GOT to be kidding me!"
oOoOoOo
"Here. Drink this."
Bluestreak accepted the cube of warm light oil, the fragrance already settling his nerves. He sipped slowly, letting the warmth fill his tanks and spread through his body. He could even taste the sweetness of the rust on his glossa. Prowl sat down next to him on the berth with a fair amount of space between them, simply waiting. Mainly because, after the drink, Prowl had absolutely no idea what to do. Primus, the only reason he thought of the oil was because he overheard Hound mention one time as something he liked to use to relax.
Not for the first time, Prowl wished there was an instruction manual for this sort of thing.
Bluestreak tilted the cube back as he drank the last of the oil, licking the rim for the last few drops. Prowl cleared his vocalizer (he was NOT stalling!) and Bluestreak froze.
"Are you ready to ta- to tell me about it?" Prowl asked as neutrally as he could, looking straight ahead.
Bluestreak dropped his optics and focused on the cube he held in his lap. Prowl waited for several long klicks, but it was already obvious that Bluestreak wasn't going to say anything. Prowl was no good at comforting or seeing into the heart of personal matters. For an instant, he was overcome with an urge to call Jazz in and let him handle the youngling before he had a chance to mess it up.
Then again, if he did, Jazz would probably tell him that he had to do this himself. He was remarkably perceptive/useless like that.
For lack of a better idea, Prowl started the only way he knew how: stating the truth.
"I can't pretend to understand what you've been through," Prowl started slowly. "What you've been through…I can't pretend to know exactly how you feel or what your experience was like. You have…you are an incredibly strong bot, Bluestreak. But you shouldn't have to be."
Bluestreak tentatively looked at his Caretaker from the corner of his optics, who kept looking straight ahead.
"You don't have to tell me everything in you don't want to," Prowl went on. "But I want you to know, nothing you tell me will change the way I think of you. You are brave, strong, gentle, smart, and considerate. Nothing will change that."
Bluestreak scooted just slightly closer, as if testing the waters, or trying to better hear was Prowl was saying. The mech paused, lifted one arm, hesitantly placed it around Bluestreaks shoulders
Pulls him in for tight hugs like the dozens, no, hundreds of times before
and lets it settle there as he finally looks down at him.
"I want you to know that, when you are ready to open up to me, I'll listen. Tell me what you want, and I'll do what I can to help you. It isn't much, but it's all I can offer."
Bluestreak almost broke right then and there. He wanted to much to speak, to verbalize the wrongness he had felt in the washracks, because if Prowl knows, then maybe he'll fix it and then it'll be right again just like before (except he lost "before", all he has is "now"), he wanted to use his voice and let his spark pour out like a sparkling to the one he trusted the most…
Except the tight, choking feeling came back and suffocated all his words.
He almost started crying again. He wanted so much to talk, but he couldn't. He was too scared.
So instead, he scooted in a little closer and leaned into Prowl as he wrapped his arm a little more tightly around him. Slowly, experimentally, he lowered himself as he laid down until his head was settled on Prowls lap. He kept stiff, ready to move, until Prowl traced a finger along the edge of his wing in a comforting fashion. Only then did Bluestreak fully relax, letting his optics offline as Prowl slowly scratched his wings.
It still didn't…fit. It was still off, it wasn't quite right with his non-memory that his mind forgot but his spark remembered.
But it was enough.
=== Omake ===
Several joors later, there was a loud knocking at the door. Frowning, Prowl stood and walked to the door, leaving the almost napping youngling on the berth watching him. Prowl keyed the door open, but when it slid open there was no one there. It took him a klick to realize he needed to direct his attention lower than he was used to.
"Is Bluestreak still here?" Sunstreaker asked, looking annoyed that he had to be there at all.
The aforementioned youngling, hearing his name, scooted off the berth and came over. His previous confidence spurred by playful abandon gone, he kept at least five paces away with his hands up at his chest, looking shy and a bit nervous (Sunstreaker was just so hard to predict sometimes, and he didn't want him to get all scary again).
"Is there something I can help you with?" Prowl asked, a little more sharply than he strictly needed to. Sunstreaker didn't look at Prowl, only focusing on the increasingly nervous Bluestreak.
"This is yours, right?"
Sunstreaker stuck out a hand and held out a knotted grey blanket with one hand like it was something filthy and vile.
Bluestreak lit up like city lights and grabbed the doll, hugging it close. He looked up at Sunstreaker and silently watched him, held tilted in a fashion Prowl recognized as his way of trying to ask a question.
"You left in the washracks, stupid," Sunstreaker told him. "Red told me where you guys were, so here it is."
Bluestreak came closer and pressed a hand against the older younglings upper arm, granting him a sincere, grateful smile.
"Yeah whatever," Sunstreaker said, looking a bit uncomfortable. Without another word he left down the hall, presumably back to Red Alert quarters.
Prowl watched him go with a raised optic ridge. Well. It would appear that the yellow twin wasn't entirely self centered after all.
"What do you think of the twins?" Prowl asked as he closed the door.
Bluestreak shifted his grip on Silverstreak so he could type out his answer.
Sideswipe doesn't think a lot, and he's pretty careless sometimes, but he's fun and he laughs a lot, so I like him.
"Interesting. And Sunstreaker?"
Bluestreak considered for a few klicks before answering.
He's kind of scary, but he's not mean. I think I like him too.
"I'm glad you have other younglings to play with now," Prowl said as he sat back on his berth. He made room for Bluestreak to sit again, and the youngling, feeling more comfortable with the new direction of conversation, hopped up next to him. "You should have someone closer to your age to talk to. But if they ever start bullying you, let me know and I'll speak to Red Alert about it. Also, don't let them pressure you into doing anything you don't want to just because they're older."
Bluestreak nodded as he listened. Then he frowned.
They used some words I don't know. Can you explain them for me?
"Certainly." Prowl said, pleased that the twins were helping to expand Bluestreaks vocabulary. "Which ones do you want to know?"
Bluestreak pondered as he tried to remember some of the big words the twins had used.
Prowl, what does frag mean?
oOoOoOo
"Red Alert, we need to talk."