A/N: Initially I said there would be NO flashbacks. But I wanted to reveal a bit more about what it was like in Dylan's "home" as a kid so there's going to be one this chapter as he's not ready to talk. But don't worry THERE IS NO DEPICTION OF MOLESTATION. I'm not sick enough to show that, I have absolutely no reason to subject anyone to the imagery. If you want that, I suggest you look elsewhere.

That said, there will be a depiction of physical and psychological abuse within the chapter. So be aware of that.

Thanks again to my beta, TFPKOFANGIRL, for her awesome work on the last three chapters.

REPOST WITH AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just a quick repost to announce to the world that I AM AnswerTheCall. I have just changed my name to AutobotGuy710 because I wanted a name to more represent my Transformers love. Been a long time coming. But if anyone's confused, I figured I should clear the air.

...

CHAPTER 11
A Whirlwind of Emotions

Ratchet watched Dylan sleep soundly that night from his doorway. Dylan never noticed, or didn't mention if he did, but he had made a habit of doing this. Lingering in his doorway after he'd gone to sleep, watching his body move up and down as he snored quietly. He'd been doing that a lot since Dylan woke up on his second night there, sobbing from his nightmares. It was his way of making sure that his foster son was sleeping soundly and peacefully. Not to mention he had to admit, it was a calming sight.

He'd just stopped his viewing for the night, checking the sensors and alarms in his room carefully when he noticed he was not alone. Optimus was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and a knowing smile on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I know... He'd probably let me have it if he knew," Ratchet told him, waving a hand. "But he is for all intents and purposes my son. And I worry during the night... I only do it once or twice," He added.

"You call him "my son" a lot," Optimus noted gently.

"Because calling him my foster son is degrading in a way," Ratchet admitted, crossing his arms. "I know that no one usually means it as such. But he's in my home, living under my roof, and in my care," He explained honestly. "He has the same right to simply be "my son" as any biological sparkling of mine would be," He added.

Optimus knew that Ratchet knew from experience how being reminded one was not the offspring of their caretaker could hurt. As such, he didn't question it as they entered the living room, sitting themselves down on the couches. "I mean Primus, you clearly know what that animal did to him," He explained, a slight growl to his voice. "He needs someone calling him "his son" that doesn't cause him to whimper, and cry at night," He added.

Optimus's optic softened, looking back to the hallway quietly. "He does so often?"

Ratchet was silent for a long moment as he stared at his friend. "He has horrible nightmares, flashbacks," Ratchet shook his head. "He's had them at least four times this week. The first time he did, he woke up. But since then, it's happened when I've passed by. My presence seems to calm him but I don't think he's fully aware of that. Nor of the fact he's reacting in such a way."

Optimus was silent, clearly he knew a bit about the situation. But like most, he probably didn't know how badly. "It doesn't help that his father was the chief of police where he lived," Ratchet felt like someone had just punched him in the spark. "That much I remember very well. Dylan wouldn't testify against his father other than the one instance, but I know I'm not the only one to believe he used his power to cover up multiple other times. Dylan was too traumatized even then for it to be an isolated incident," He added.

Ratchet felt like purging at the thought, even though he knew Optimus was right long before now. The marks on his back, the brand, there WAS no way Dylan had only fallen victim once. "If I ever get my hands on that piece of slag," Ratchet growled slowly. "I'll tear him into so many pieces..."

"Easy, Ratchet," Optimus soothed. "He's in jail now-."

"For the next five months," Ratchet added slowly. "Then he's free to roam the streets again!"

Optimus looked in surprise as Ratchet slammed a fist against the wall. The mech looked pained, angry, and probably a little unhinged. But he was slowly getting control of himself. "I'm sorry, Prime," Ratchet told him quietly. "But that boy's gotten under my plating. The more time I spend with him the more attached I become," He paused. "I'm starting to come to love him."

Optimus paused a bit, he knew it was early to say that. But as long as he didn't throw that on the boy this soon, what did it matter? Ratchet was very in-tuned with his emotions most of the time, and it was likely the words he spoke were the truth. "I understand that, Ratchet," Optimus told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I believe any creator would. The thought of a loved one suffering the way he did would hurt anyone's spark."

"I just wish I could get him to trust me more," Ratchet explained. "To tell me how to help him better. Because as it is I get so little out of him most days. I want to help..."

Optimus looked Ratchet right in the optics, knowingly. He crossed his arms, and took a deep breath. "You say you love this boy. Or are on the path to feeling such emotions," Ratchet nodded his head in confirmation. "Then in time, he will come to you. In the meantime, he doesn't know what that feels like... To be cared for, or loved," Ratchet looked at him. "The more you show him how that feels, the more likely he IS to open up."

Ratchet thought about that, knowing Optimus was right. Up until now he had avoided any real affection in more than words for fear of triggering an episode. But he remembered how he reacted during the lunch the other day, remembering how he hadn't fought the touch. And realized, maybe that was exactly what he needed. Someone to show him someone could put a hand on him, show him affection, and love, without wanting to hurt him. Because that was something Dylan had definitely been missing: the true idea of what "love" was.

"I didn't want to risk triggering something," Ratchet commented.

"But maybe that's exactly what the boy needs," Optimus told him gingerly. "Someone willing to take the risks, despite their fears."

Ratchet was silent at that, his processor going at a million miles per hour. He tried to figure out what to make of this advice, of whether he really was willing to take the risk. But he was also not the type to go through life afraid of his own shadow like this. "Maybe you're right," Ratchet replied finally. "But I will have to wait until the right time presents itself, at the very least," He pushed himself to his feet. "Anyways, I think I'm off to recharge. If you don't mind."

"Of course," Optimus replied. "We both need to rest up for tomorrow. Good orn, Ratchet."

Ratchet waved his hand as he quietly approached his berthroom. He was going to have to think on this that night, as he knew it would not leave his processor throughout recharge. This was a big deal after all, the mere thought of it, it'd mean moving into a part of his relationship with Dylan he didn't expect to be at yet. In that sense, he wondered if this was how Siren felt about him after he'd stumbled into his med bay looking for a job, and come out his adopted creation practically.

Ratchet hoped that the mech was having a good laugh in the Well of Allsparks if that was the case.

...

That night, Dylan found himself back in time, figuratively of course. It was a memory, he knew that by the fact he was smaller, and that he could feel the shackle clamped around his ankle. He gave it one tug as he always did, his small fingers pulling harshly at the chains. But of course, as always, he was trapped, the chains lodged into the floor of the attic, keeping him there, like a dog. He crawled to the bars of the boarded up attic window, not even able to shake them as he grabbed them.

No, he wasn't back here. This wasn't real. This was a dream.

That's what he tried to tell himself, what he tried to scream at himself. But like a movie, his younger self didn't respond, it didn't change its course. Even as the loud footsteps sounded out near the trap door that led to the attic. Dylan knew what that meant, he was coming, he was coming to get him tonight. His chubby fingers pulled harder on the bars, continuing to yank as he screamed.

He didn't know it, given he'd never seen the outside of his home. But they lived too far outside their town for his screams to matter. No one heard him, no one was going to come find him, not yet anyway. He felt the hot tears stain his face as the trapdoor flipped open. He turned around, the dark, shadowy figure was there, the one that represented the man who put him through hell.

Dylan cried his head off, cowering back as the man carefully unlocked the shackle. He was leaving the attic he knew, but he wouldn't like where he was going. "Please! Please! No! Daddy, no!" He felt the man grab at his arm, but he was able to move his arm through his hand. "Stop!"

"Come on Dylly-billy," Gene whispered into his ear. "We'll go for a walk in the park. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

Dylan knew better though, especially when the man wrapped him in a bear hug around the waist. He violently kicked out at the wall, pushing as hard as he could. But against the tall, broad shouldered man, what could he do? He felt the man carry him, towards the staircase, towards the darkness. He screamed loudly, but no one would hear him, no one could hear him.

But this time, someone did.

He felt himself thrown from the man's arms violently. And where he stood, another one did, someone he recognized, though he couldn't fully tell who they were from the distance. This man thrust his father violently against the wall, and threw several punches. Dylan crawled back, fear in his eyes, who was this man? A few minutes later, he found out, after the man had kicked his father down the stairs.

Dylan watched as the figure turned, walking closer and closer. Until finally, in full view was a face he didn't even begin to expect to see: Ratchet, not a holoform, but a smaller, human sized version of the mech himself. "It's alright, Dylan," He spoke quietly. "I'm here now, nothing's going to hurt you," He added quietly.

And suddenly, Dylan realized, he wasn't five. No, he was fourteen again, fourteen but feeling just as small, and scared. He looked up at Ratchet, or at least the dream Ratchet, with eyes filled with tears. "You'll leave me," Dylan told him quietly. "Everyone always does."

But Ratchet didn't move, rather, he reached his hand out. "Not anymore," Ratchet told him gently. "Not if you put your trust in me," He added.

Dylan looked at the hand for a long moment before slowly reaching out. He took the hand slowly, gently, realizing quickly the metal didn't hurt. It wasn't cold either, rather, it felt warm, he blinked quietly, but allowed Ratchet to help him to his feet. Ratchet almost snorted, who knew that a small, human child could make him so nervous? Especially a human who, not so long ago, he could never have imagined caring about as he did now.

...

Dylan shot up in his bed, his breathing labored. It was ten o'clock in the morning already, and for once he was not waking up afraid. Rather he woke up confused, why had he dreamed that? It was unlike him to have something inside his nightmares, combating them like that. And why had it been Ratchet who played the role of the hero? Dylan felt so confused, and yet strangely, not scared.

A pair of footsteps stopped at his door as the Autobot-sized door opened. "Oh good, you're awake," Ratchet spoke as he entered. "We have our reunion with the rest of Prime's friends today. So you'll need to get up quickly, we both slept in a little late as humans say," He paused, noticing the look in Dylan's eyes. "Dylan, are you okay? You look spooked."

Pulling himself out of bed, Dylan looked at Ratchet for a long time. What could he say? "No, I had a dream about my past, and then you, and I'm seriously confused about it"? Ratchet would probably think he was nuts, maybe even give him a psych evaluation. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just had a... Well I had a really weird night," Dylan managed. "I don't know, bizarre dreams and all."

Ratchet nodded his head, seemingly satisfied by the answer. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"No," Dylan said at once. "Really, I'm okay..."

He knew Ratchet wouldn't believe that, that much was obvious. The mech knew him well enough at this point that trying to keep things from him would only get harder from there. But none the less, he did keep his mouth shut. Instead, he moved past Ratchet to take a shower, which he did rather quickly. He knew that Ratchet probably wanted to get there soon, and he didn't want to get on his bad side by being late. So he was quick to rush through the shower, dressing, and grabbing the cereal that was laid out for him.

Ratchet watched him the whole time with skepticism, but with Optimus gone, he had no one to ask a second opinion from. After all, he had gone ahead in order to secure the spot this year. "Dylan? Relax," Ratchet told him gently. "You're acting rather odd this morning, and I think it's time you told me why," He added. "You're worrying me, youngling."

The teen looked up at his guardian quietly, his blue eyes full of total uncertainty. He gripped the sides of the table quietly, and took a sharp intake of breath. "I had a weird dream, that's all," Dylan replied honestly. "It's nothing that you can really help me with. It's something I need to figure out myself," He added, honesty in his voice. "I promise, if I need to talk to you, I'll get you."

"Are you alright to go to the meeting?" Ratchet asked in concern. "If you aren't, we can stay home. I'm sure the others will understand," He added.

"Ratchet, I'm fine..."

But as he turned around, Dylan took a moment to realize Ratchet's holoform was there. His arms slowly wrapping around him as he held him close to his body. For a moment, Dylan struggled, expecting at any moment to be taken advantage of. But Ratchet didn't, rather, he ran circles along his back, and held him a little tighter in reassurance. After a moment, Dylan felt his body start to relax as Ratchet held him closely, gently, tenderly.

It was the first time Dylan could remember getting a hug in a very, very long time. And to his shock, Dylan didn't want Ratchet to stop, he didn't want to fight him anymore. Instead, he let the mech hold him there for a long moment. He didn't return the hug, it was too abrupt, too sudden, to return it, but regardless he let Ratchet's end of it happen. "Dylan... I know you won't tell me what happened," Ratchet explained gently. "But believe me when I say I can miss this meeting. You're more important to me than this. You're my... Well, for all intents and purposes, you're my son," Dylan felt his body shake. "You need only say the word."

In that moment, Dylan was certain no harm was coming to him. That hug was genuine, a way to comfort him, however awkward the initiation had been. But it was also to Ratchet's surprise when the boy responded, leaning his head against the mech's shoulder. "I'll be okay," Dylan told him calmly. "I promise... I just was a little shaken up," He finished.

Ratchet nodded his head, assured by the way the boy spoke. He carefully released the boy from the hug, watching him as the boy stood there, still a bit awestruck. "Alright, I believe you," Ratchet patted his shoulder. "Now come on, we need to be there soon."

Dylan nodded, watching as the holoform disappeared and Ratchet headed for the door. He stood there for a long moment, his mind running over what had just happened. He felt tears sting his eyes, trying to control himself, but he couldn't. Ratchet's hug had done more than the mech could have imagined, especially when he had asked for nothing, not even a hug of his own in return. Ratchet had just done something that had made him feel something that Dylan had never felt in his life: cared about, wanted, he may have gone as far as to say loved if he knew more about what that felt like.

Ratchet might never know it, but Dylan would always be grateful of that one, small, but meaningful gesture.

...

The gathering was held at the official Autobot Headquarters of Jasper, Nevada. A place that Dylan had seen from a distance, but never as close up as now. It was a giant, bright building that, once inside looked almost like a palace more than a government building. Dylan got a full view of it, because, perhaps because he was worried he'd run, Ratchet had insisted he ride on his shoulder "In case in the excitement someone accidentally stepped in the wrong place" he joked. But Dylan got the distinct feeling there were other reasons that at least didn't seem threatening.

"'Bout time you got here!"

Dylan turned his head to see that he wasn't the only one on the shoulder of a guardian. No, he noticed Shawn right away, in fact with what must have been his own adoptive father. The mech was tall, and rather buff to the point that the green mech was the definition of intimidating. Yet his bright smile, and soft blue optics seemed to offset most of that. "Yes, well, now I'm not the only one I have to get up in the morning cycle," Ratchet replied, shaking hands with Bulkhead calmly.

"Hey Dylan!" Shawn perked up a bit. "You made it! See dad, I told you he would. He's not THAT shy!"

Dylan almost felt offended by the fact that there had been debate over whether or not he'd come. But then again, the last thing he wanted was to make a giant robot angry by verbally chewing out him or his son. "Aha, so you're the little guy who's given Ratchet a run for his money," Bulkhead spoke up enthusiastically. "I don't know if m'boy here's told ye. But I'm Bulkhead, your old mech and I go way back," He explained.

"You were on Team Prime with him and Bee weren't you?" Dylan asked. "And yeah, I'm... Dylan," He added.

Bulkhead grinned a bit, and was about to speak, but it was Shawn who piped up. Not that Dylan was surprised, the boy was always enthused to talk about his dad, or at least, so Dylan had gathered. "You kidding? Heck yeah! My dad was a Wrecker. One of the toughest groups of 'Bots around," He then added. "He, uncle Wheeljack, and Magnus were the muscle of Prime's team practically!" He then added. "And I'm in training to be one too... In the Autobot army when I get older."

"Whoa, slow down their piston rocket," Bulkhead chuckled. "You don't want to make my helm much bigger," He added as he ruffled up his hair with a finger. "But the kid is right," He added, taking Shawn into his hand, and grinning from audio receptor to audio receptor. "I was one tough customer."

"Was?" Shawn raised an eyebrow. "You still are."

"As much of one as an army veteran architect can be," Bulkhead laughed.

Dylan watched the way Bulkhead looked at his son with a hint of jealousy. They were so happy, he realized. And Bulkhead clearly loved, and cared for Shawn very much. Yet, as he thought about why he couldn't have that, he realized, slowly he did have at least one of those things. Ratchet was caring, he had come to realize, he cared about him, though love may not have been the case here. He was no longer just someone who existed in a family's home. No, for once, he was here with someone who actually cared about him, and enjoyed his company.

"You know one of these days, you should tell me about your part in the war," Dylan commented, looking at Ratchet, who looked surprised by the comment. "I know you were the medic, but you must have some cool stories, right?"

Ratchet looked surprised, but now it was Bulkhead's turn to speak up. "Oh yeah! Ratchet did a lot of awesome stuff for us too," He commented. "Don't let him be modest, either. Have him tell you the really good ones," He added, winking at him. "Anyways, we should go in, see you guys upstairs?"

"Count on it," Ratchet replied.

As Bulkhead and Shawn headed towards the elevator, Ratchet stared at Dylan. Clearly, he was confused, but Dylan shrugged his shoulders. "Well you said I'm going to be living with you for a while, didn't you?" He asked innocently enough, as if reading his mind. "I want cool stories to tell too."

Ratchet actually let a small smile cross his face. Wondering if that one simple act was the start, even the smallest start, of them getting somewhere. "Then I'll have to get to telling you soon," Ratchet nodded. "You ready to go up there. Or do you want a little to calm your nerves?"

Dylan looked forward, and sucked in a breath. He could do this, he told himself, he knew he could. "I'm ready."

Hopefully, he would make a good impression.

...

A/N: I know this chapter is a little shorter, but there was so much going on. I figured anything more would be an overload. XD Dylan meets more of the 'Bots next chapter!