A/N: Can I just say, I seriously appreciate the wonderful feedback you've all been giving me. It really makes me happy to see the story getting such a positive response. So thank you. :3

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CHAPTER 6
Talent and Questions

Living out of a barn was definitely not the most ideal living situation, as Mark soon learned. Yet it was the only choice he had, and therefore, he was thankful to have that by the time his second day there came around. For once though, Mark didn't feel the loneliness he'd felt since his father had died. In fact, he felt a certain comfort at being surrounded by several mechs. With the exception being Crosshairs, who rarely said a word to him, and Mirage who went out of his way to ignore him at the present. On the upside, the other Autobots seemed very kind and even, dare he say it, welcoming. With Bumblebee being especially kind, and by far the youngest of the group.

Staying under the care of Hound was definitely the most interesting part about it. As the mech treated him well, and took care of him more now that they were in the same area constantly. He made sure he was comfortable, even having gotten him a few changes of clothing for when he did leave. And the fact he had gotten him a pillow and blanket was also a welcome feeling as well. To tell the truth, the more time they spent together the more he was beginning to think he really could trust him. But it was still a slow going process, as much as he wanted to trust him fully, he needed more time, without a doubt.

He spent most of his time as he did in the theater, drawing. It was the gift he'd been given, and practicing seemed to be the one thing that normally calmed him down. For the most part, the Autobots didn't snoop, but on occasion, one would. "Whatcha doin'?" Came a childlike voice as Bumblebee stepped up behind him from where he was seated on his makeshift "bed".

"Nothing!" Mark practically shouted, trying to close his sketch pad which Bumblebee playfully picked up "Bee!"

Bumblebee began to look it over carefully, and smirked. "You've got real talent, kid." A voice clip chimed in "You should totally do something with it, someday."

Mark smiled a bit, pushing his hair away as his cheeks turned red. His father had always said the same thing, but this was the first time anyone else pointed it out. "Thanks, Bee." Mark replied "I guess I'm okay. Dad used to say I was really good but my art teacher thought I could use some work." Bumblebee tilted his head at him curiously "What? I think we all need practice really. Even famous artists have to practice once in a while."

Mark had to smirk as the sound of "Rock Star" by Smash Mouth erupted from Bumblebee. The Autobot cut it out after a moment and simply seated himself beside the young human. Mark had to hand it to Bumblebee, he had quite the way of making a boy feel welcomed in a place where he wasn't totally sure he was. "You know, I really do want to be an artist someday. Comic books, or cartoons, something like that." Mark told him "Someday when I'm eighteen and I can't get caught or whatever."

"I'd be first in line for that." Mark laughed as Bumblebee gave a thumbs up, he looked up slowly as Drift motioned him over "Gotta head on out, little britches." He said with a cowboy voice "The bosses are calling me into work."

"Alright, Bee. Seeyah."

As Bumblebee left, Mark found that the smile he had on his face did not leave. Bumblebee definitely had that effect on him, the ability to make him smile and happy for a change. The same could be said about Hound too. "He's right, ye know." Speak of the devil, he turned to Hound "Yer just like Sideswipe's brother, Sunstreaker is with the artistic side of things." He shrugged "I was never an artistic mech myself."

Mark shrugged, and looked it over. "I think Bumblebee was overdoing it. I'm not that great, I'm just okay..." He explained as he started to continue his drawing "I mean it's supposed to be you... But I get the helmet wrong all the time." He explained, looking over at Hound "And your optics don't look centered enough." He added.

"Yer fourteen." Hound chuckled "And for a fourteen year old, I find it quite impressive." He noted, tracing his finger along the lines that made up his profile on the page "You're going to do great things with this someday kid, believe you me." He tapped the boy's chin gently "You just need to boost your confidence a little more is all."

Mark leaned back against the side of the barn, nodding his head a bit. He guessed maybe he could have been right, though he didn't know. He'd thought and dreamed about being an artist one day, but he did often wonder if he had the talent. And in this situation, it could have been that the mech's were being nice, or genuine. "Thanks, Hound." Mark finally spoke up "I guess I'll just have to wait and see how it goes though."

"Yeah, well. We wil definitely see." Hound replied "So, I was thinking about taking a drive." He spoke up "Wanna come with me and get out of the barn for a while, or am I flying solo this time?"

Mark closed the sketch pad up in response. The idea of getting out of the definitely appealed to him, after being cooped up for the last two days. He stood and put his sketchpad into his backpack. "Now you're speaking my language, Hound." He commented "Are you sure that Crosshairs won't have a conniption about that too?" Mark asked, his eyes scanning the room for the green mech "Like he does every time I'm out in the open?"

"He means well, younglin'." Hound shrugged slightly "Come on, or we won't have much time before I have to send you to bed."

"Since when do you set my bedtime?" Mark asked.

"You're in my care, and under my rules." Hound waved a finger "Youngling's need their rest."

Mark stared at him for a moment, and then laughed. "You're funny, Hound." Mark waved him off "But seriously, you're not my dad, so no offense. But I'm going to bed when I want to go to bed."

As Hound watched Mark leave, Hound frowned a bit. Did it actually... Make him sad to hear the "You're not my dad" comment? It sounded silly to him, he wasn't Mark's father after all. He was his friend, someone that Mark was slowly starting to put his trust in. Yet, at the same time, with Mark's young age he couldn't help but look at him in somewhat the same way that he looked at Coldsteel. With a watchful optic, calmed temperament, and most of all, a warm disposition. And in a way, it scared him.

Crosshairs was right, how was he ever going to let this boy go without getting his spark broken? Because if this was how he felt about Mark now, Primus only knew where his processor, and spark would be when the two weeks were over.

...

While Mark had laid down to sleep that night, Hound seated himself beside Drift. His arms were crossed, and he leaned against the barn slightly. "Drift, can I ask you a question?" Drift lifted an optic ridge "It involves a secret, that I need you to just... Swear to me you won't bring up to the others yet." He noted.

"Of course." Drift patted his chestplate "On my honor."

Hound shifted a bit, staring around to make sure that the others weren't around. At the moment, they had all gone out to check out a late night meteor shower. And though he doubted they would be back anytime soon, he didn't want to be wrong. "What do you think the chances are of the human government giving custody of a kid like that..." He paused, pointing to Mark's sleeping form "To a mech like me?"

Drift looked over at Hound with a frown before standing to his feet. It was clear by the look in his optics that Hound was being serious in his words, though he likely couldn't believe it. "Hound, that might be asking much of the human government." Drift replied "You barely know the boy beyond what you have learned the past two weeks. We do not know his state of mind. And our trust..." He began "Is thin at best."

"I'm not saying right now." Hound noted "But if you guys become as close to him as I am-."

"You truly wish to become his legal guardian?" Drift questioned "Amidst a war against someone you know will hunt us down, ruthlessly?"

"He needs someone to take care of him." Hound noted "He can't just spend his entire life until he's eighteen on the streets."

"Then perhaps the time has come that you must turn him in." Drift replied, his voice calm "I agree, the boy does not seem as capable as he wishes he was. That much was obvious when he appeared with an odor so fowl." Hound was silent at that, though he knew that Drift was right "However, this is not much of an alternative." He motioned around the barn.

"We'll be back at NEST in a month or two."

Drift rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and looked at Hound. The mech understood, even if it could happen, they couldn't do anything yet. He needed to know more about Mark, they needed to know more about Mark. And what's more, he had to get Mark to trust them more if they had any hope of the boy even agreeing. "You have a big spark, my old friend." Drift told him gently "But we must handle things realistically. We cannot take every lost human in, if we did..." He paused "Well, you understand."

Hound hated it when Drift was right, but right now, he knew he made a good point. He straightened himself slightly, and shook his head. "Yer right. I need to put thoughts like that outta my head." He grunted "I just can't help it. He's the same age my son was in our years... Its just... Flustering that Primus would put him in my path if I can't even help him." He muttered.

"Perhaps you are meant to help him in other ways." Drift told him "You both have faced losses that would kill most inside. Yet together, no untrained eye could tell." Hound stared at Drift slowly "I sense much anger towards his father in young Mark. Much grief too." He noted "Something I believe you are helping him with, in your own way."

Hound rested his hand against the barn wall, and nodded slowly. Again, it was a fine point all on its own, maybe that was the only reason they were ever meant to meet. So that Hound could help him get through the grief that he knew haunted the young boy more than he would have liked to admit. "Thanks for talking me down, Drift." He finally spoke up again "I think I needed that dose of reality ye gave me."

"Anytime, Hound. And don't worry, I won't alert Crosshairs to these... Thoughts of yours."

As Drift went back to whatever he was working on, Hound sighed and rumbled his engine a bit. What had he been thinking, it was a silly thought. Looking at Mark and thinking that he may have, even possibly, had the possibility of being a father again in front of him. It would never work, and even if it could, he was almost certain that Mark would never agree to it. As Hound moved towards the entrance, and stepped out into the night, he didn't even notice as Mark still laid awake, though he faced the wall.

Had Hound actually asked that? It was something Mark tried to comprehend, yet couldn't bring himself to. Hound had thought about taking custody of him? HIM? The son of his former sworn enemy, the kid who tried to push him and the others away at every chance he had? Why would he want that? If he had been Hound, he'd probably have looked forward to getting him out of his hair as soon as humanly possible. Why did he care? Why did Bumblebee care? He sighed quietly and pulled the blankets further over his body.

He wasn't sure how to take in this new information, but he knew he could push the questions away for now. Drift had told him the honest truth, and maybe it would be the end of it. What if you don't want that to be the end of it? Mark thought to himself quietly.

That, even to Mark, was a very good question.