Alright guys! Heres the 3rd chapter! Idk if Sunstreaker will be in character, so dunt blame me. Please
Disclaimer: I dunt own transformers, unfortunately…
I own Whiteout!
Please review folks!
Chapter 3
Sunstreaker glanced down at Whiteout, who was recharging peacefully in his arms while sucking his thumb. A single word flashed through the mech's processor: innocent.
That's exactly what Whiteout looked like. He looked so innocent.
The mech lifted his gaze from the sparkling to the hall he was walking in. The hall was empty, mostly due to the fact that the Autobots were really bus with their cycle to cycle activities. That could be a possibility. Sunstreaker glanced back down at the sparkling and much to his surprise, Whiteout was smiling back up at him.
"Sunstreaker," Hot Rod caught his attention.
The distracted mech lifted his helm, "Yes?"
"I-," Hot Rod then spotted Whiteout, "Oh, never mind. I see you're busy."
"No, what?" Sunstreaker countered.
The new SIC sighed, "You were going to be on noon patrol, but I see you're busy."
Hot Rod turned and left. Sunstreaker groaned and Whiteout suddenly seemed heavier in his arms. The sparkling called towards the mech with a little laugh. He ignored him and continued to the rec room as he listened to the unknown language of the sparkling. Lust as Sunstreaker suspected, the rec was empty he turned on the large plasma TV, set Whiteout on the couch, and settled down next to him. Human news was hardly keeping the mech's attention. Mainly because he thought all humans cause their own misfortune. Or did that apply to him and the Autobots, and the Decepticons, even back on Cybertron? Cause and effect. One thing leads to another. A punch to a kick. A kick to a fight. A fight to a battle. A battle to a war. A war to an urgent call to arms…
Sunstreaker had been there with Optimus a little less than a week ago. The was a dire need of fighters to battle at the front. Jazz and Prowl accepted a mission to stop the Decepticons from killing more humans on their onslaught. It was complete suicide, a viral bomb hard-wired into their systems to destroy a human pen for a genocidal killing. There was no other way…
Jazz and Prowl had cried as they parted from their little creation. Whiteout didn't cry. He wailed. His creators' pain was his own. Since then, Whiteout's health dropped the sparkling could most possible offline in another two to three weeks, give or take.
Sunstreaker was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt the sparkling tap on his leg. He saw his tiny chassis twisted around so Whiteout out was on his tanks (stomach) halfway. He was making a big effort just to tap the mech's leg.
"C'mon. roll over," Sunstreaker said.
Whiteout's visor glinted in the light, and Sunstreaker could just barely see his yellow optics from behind. The sparkling whined and gave up, returning to his back. He chattered angrily for a good breem before trying again. Like the previous attempt, Whiteout gave up again. Much to Sunstreaker's surprise, and annoyance, Whiteout began to cry.
"Shut up," Sunstreaker growled, which immediately silenced the sparkling, "Keep trying to roll over."
Whiteout hesitated and chattered quietly.
"Roll over," the mech said, which to him sounded like an order you give to a dog. He pushed Whiteout's side gently, giving the sparkling a bit of encouragement. As he twisted himself, Sunstreaker saw the problem: Whiteout's arms was stuck underneath his chassis.
"Primus," Sunstreaker thought, "This child's rollin' over the hard way."
Whiteout growled, preparing to give up again before Sunstreaker helped pull out the trapped arm. The sparkling began to smile in cheated achievement.
"Good. Now do it again," the mech said with a grin. He placed Whiteout on his back and the sparkling began to complain, "Roll over."
Whiteout obeyed getting stuck again. Rather than quitting, the sparkling moved his arm out of the way. He laughed and spoke happily. Sunstreaker smiled and retuned his focus to the news, although, it didn't interest him.
THERE WE GO! Chapter three done. I hope y'all liked it.
Please review folks… gimmme criticism.