CHAPTER 4
Feelings

Hound arrived back in the theater the following morning with a breakfast meal from McDonalds. To his surprise, Mark actually was still there, laying across three seats and snoring away. He carefully dropped the bag of food onto the boy's lap as Mark jolted awake upon impact. He groaned, and sat up, first looking at the bag in surprise then up to see Hound. "You actually came back?" Hound inclined his head, Mark was silent "I don't get you, Hound..." He noted "Why are you helping me?"

Hound was silent, taking out another cigar. He looked at a wall thoughtfully, and shook his head. "You remind me of someone I once knew very well." Hound explained sadly "A long, long time ago..." He paused.

"If it's yourself, I already got that. You ran away when you were my age, but-."

"My son."

That made Mark frown in response, surprise in his eyes. Autobots had children? Just like humans? Or was it somehow different? The questions swirled around in his his head in a mass of confusion. "You guys can have... Kids?" Mark asked, sitting up slightly in surprise "But you're machines, aren't you just, y'know, built?" He asked curiously.

"Yes, we are machines, but not in the way you think." Hound nodded his head "We live not unlike you humans. We live, we love, we get bonded, the equivalent to your marriage..." He paused a moment "... We have sparklings we hope to teach about the world, love, and protect..." He felt towards his spark chamber slightly "Unfortunately, I lost both my bonded and my sparkling to the war... Both in the very same raid."

Mark felt an overwhelming feeling of sympathy for the mech. He almost felt as though for a moment, they were cut from the same cloth. Though he could only imagine just how horrible it felt to lose a child. "I'm sorry." Mark told him quietly "I didn't mean to be a jerk like that..."

"You're fine. Eat. You need nutrients." Hound noted, watching the boy open his food and begin to do so "You couldn't have known anyway, I hardly tell a soul about old Coldsteel." He noted, his optics softening "I lost him when he was about the equivalent of yer age. But right now he'd have been thirty vorns, or just thirty by your standards." He shook his head "Hit me right where it hurts the most when he died."

Mark nodded his head. "My mom died when I was four." Mark told him, as Hound looked at him slowly "I felt like the same thing, even though I was too little to really "get" it, I think." He took a deep breath "But now I really know what that feels like. Figures since my dad raised me after that, and well, he and I were tight." He held up two intertwined fingers for emphasis "But it's even worse because I don't feel like I ever really knew him. Or at least what he really was."

Hound took a deep intake at that, unsure of how to respond. He shifted, and seated himself on the ground with his hands rested under his chin. "I know how you feel in some ways." Hound admitted finally "I was an orphan too, although my grand-creators raised me from the time I was about... Five vorns." He explained "Wasn't there any family to take ye in?"

"If there was, I never met them. And social services didn't know about them either." He then added "I mean, the only family I knew about was my aunt. And she died during Chicago." He explained "Our family hasn't exactly had the best luck if you haven't figured it out." He added through a mouthful of pancakes "At this rate, I'm almost betting I'm next."

"Yeah, well don't take it personally." Hound noted "This war has torn apart many families. And wiped out countless others." He then added "I highly doubt you'll be next, though. You're too resilient of a little guy to let that happen." He noted as Mark finished his food "So how long are you planning to stay in Texas?"

Mark looked thoughtful, uncertainty in his eyes. It was clear that Mark wasn't one for planning, Hound had figured that even long before now. Finally, the boy shrugged. "This is the first time I've found shelter that I couldn't easily get caught in. So if I can lay low here..." Mark paused a moment "I guess I could probably stay for a month or two without getting caught if I use the back entrance." He deduced "You probably shouldn't hang around me the whole time. It could blow my cover and your friends are going to wonder where you go."

"We can meet somewhere in the middle." Hound noted "Or you could just turn yourself-."

"I get it I could do the so-called "right thing", doesn't mean I'm going to." Mark huffed slightly "Don't you get it Hound? I don't need to be taken care of. I'll take care of myself. On the run until I'm eighteen, and then I'm free." He looked up at him "But I guess making friends won't hurt me at all. So, thanks for sticking around." He stated "At least at the moment, because you're the only person since this happened that doesn't seem to have lied to me in some way."

"I don't plan to, either. If it makes you feel any better."

Mark nodded his head slightly, looking forward at where the screen once was. "We'll see." Mark replied "I kinda like you, not gonna lie. But you gotta understand that my trust of pretty much anyone at the moment is slim." He then added "Don't take it personally though."

Hound nodded his head, and watched Mark as he seemed to zone out into space. Perhaps contemplating the fact that he was placing his tentative trust in a mech he barely even knew. It was a question that even Hound himself admitted, he might have been asking himself by now too.

...

For the next week, Hound visited Mark at least once during the day. Which was both an annoyance and welcomed by the young teenager, who admittedly had gotten lonely during his time on the run. The more time Hound spent with the boy, the more he began to see the side of Mark that wasn't the rough and ready boy. He saw his moments of fear, laughter, and his moments of mourning. The last part only being spotted when Mark himself had no idea that the robot that the had somewhat "befriended" was even watching him.

The morning of Mark's second week was the first time that Mark finally opened up the tiniest bit to Hound. It was the evening, and Hound had brought over his Energon, and brought Mark a burger from McDonald's, which the boy seemed to enjoy. They were only mid-way into their meal when Mark looked up at the older mech and spoke. "Hound, do you hate my dad?" Mark asked "Honestly, I mean, without sparing my feelings."

"Hate's a strong word, youngling." Hound replied honestly "I'm not sure that "hate" is the word I would use." He added, stroking his beard slightly "Strongly disliked, definitely. But I didn't know him beyond the terrible things he did." He explained "Why would you ask that?" He questioned.

"Because I think I do."

Hound's optics looked down at Mark with a look of surprise. It was often a saying heard from a teenager, but rarely, if ever from a teenager who had lost said parent. "Again, mighty big words, younglin'." Hound replied "Didn't you tell me that your father loved you? Just because he did horrible things to others should not shape what you think of him."

"He ruined my life." Mark snapped "Why do you think I'm worried about what people would think? It's not like I could ever have a family again the second they heard the name "Savoy"." He tried to calm himself down, resting against the floor on his stomach "That's the reason I even have to wait so long. WHen I turn eighteen I can not only go out on my own, but I can change my name too."

Hound stared at the boy, taking his "cigar" out of his mouth for a moment. He could understand that, the feeling that you could never have a family now. He knew that humans could be very judgmental and chances were, many would write him off due to his father's actions. It was a sad, sad fact that he wished he could say wasn't true. "Humans are so judgmental sometimes, I agree." Hound nodded his head slowly "But surely, you could find someone out there-."

"Who wants the fourteen year old son of a crazy person?" Mark asked "Yeah, right."

Hound put a fist on the ground beside Mark, and looked the young human in the eyes. "I get it, alright?" Hound asked "But if ye ask me, sitting here and feeling sorry for yerself won't do a slagging thing." Mark frowned, and looked away at that "You act as though everything yer father did is going to define ye for the rest of yer life." He then added "But if ye hadn't noticed, I have reason to despise yer father, yet I have been taking care of ye for the last week."

"But do you legitimately care about me?" Mark asked "Or do you just feel obligated to?"

Hound was silent for a long moment, but after a moment, his optics softened. Now he put his face up close to Mark, and made sure he understood. "I like ye, kid. I told you that before. So if ye must know, I care about what happens to someone I run into... Who doesn't have a proper home or family." Mark moved back a little at the sudden seriousness in Hound's voice "I am far from a self-centered being. You came into my path and you intrigued me." He explained "And in our time together I grew to care what happened to ye. Especially given the facts I stated."

Mark looked at the mech for a long moment, his eyes widened. "I guess I never looked at my situation from the other side of things." Mark muttered, leaning back a bit "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you or anything." He explained as Hound slowly, but surely drew back "I just, I guess..."

"I know, it's hard to trust people." Hound replied, his voice calm and understanding "But maybe it's time you tried to start to have a little more faith in me than that."

Hound's statement wasn't answered immediately, at least verbally. But eventually, Mark stood to his feet, having finished the burger, and starting towards a trash can he had brought in from the outside. "Maybe." He muttered so quietly that Hound barely even heard it "I just... I don't know... You really think I shouldn't hate my dad for what he did to me?" He asked as he looked at Hound.

"I think that is something ye have to decide for yerself." Hound replied "I am merely giving you an answer to the question you asked me."

Mark nodded his head slightly, and kicked a bit of rubble to the side. It was clear that even though he said he hated his father, he wasn't entirely sure if that was true. Angry with him? Yes. But Hound had a feeling that perhaps, some part of him held onto the fact that James Savoy had at least done one thing good: been a real father to him. "I should get going back home for recharge." Hound spoke up as he himself stood up "Do you need anything before I leave?"

"No, I'm good." As Hound started towards the exit, Mark frowned "Hound?" Hound turned his head "Thanks for... At least trying to care."

Although the sentiment wasn't much, as he left, Hound marked it as, at the very least, a start.