GUEST: Thank you! I hope you enjoy the rest of it!

A/N: Thanks to my beta, SIDEKICKS-ANONYMOUS, for working on this chapter! :D

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CHAPTER 19
Sadness

Dylan had never expected everyone to approve of him. But still, he'd had hope. Yet that morning, he really didn't go out looking for trouble. In fact, he and Ratchet had gone out in hopes of enjoying a long respite, and much-needed day off for the latter. Ratchet had been swamped with work lately, which meant that they didn't get days like this as much. But that was okay, because he made up for it by taking Dylan to the mall again.

This time, Ratchet made it clear that Dylan had a spending limit. But he was okay with that, he didn't expect Ratchet to constantly take him on spending sprees like he had the first time. Yet the budget left him enough money to grab a few DVDs he wanted, and a new t-shirt, so he really couldn't complain either way. When they'd finally been done shopping, that was when the moment he truly hated happened.

It had started out as a quiet trip to the food court for food. They were enjoying lunch when the mech approached, and almost immediately interrupted their talk.

"Heyyyy Ratchet!" Came the mech's friendly voice as he walked up to their table. "How's it going? Been a while!"

Dylan took in the mech. He was a slender and dark-colored with gold optics. Dylan hadn't met him before, but at the time, he'd seemed friendly enough. Ratchet, however, already didn't look too happy to see him.

"Hello, Gloom. To what do we owe the pleasure?" He grunted.

"What? Can't an old friend come and say hi? And hey, this must be the kid I've heard so much about!" Gloom commented, looking at Dylan with a friendly smile. "It's nice to finally get to put a face to the name 'Dylan.' You're the talk among the Autobots these days. Not many people get into Ratchet's spark like that!"

Dylan smiled, looking up at the mech. "Nice to meet you, too—Gloom? I don't think Ratchet's mentioned you much before... Did you guys used to work together?"

Ratchet almost facepalmed at the boy's bluntness. One of these days, he knew that the boy was going to get him into loads of trouble. "Of course I've told you about Gloom. You're just forgetting!" Ratchet told him in a tone that said "play along".

"It's okay. I'm sure the kid has been meeting a lot of your friends. I'd find it hard to keep track of them all too," The mech commented with a grin. "Yeah, we used to work together before the war. That was when I went neutral and this mech over here went Autobot. He had guts; personally, I thought it was a bad idea."

"It wasn't! Ratchet's a war hero and a big-name medic because of it."

Ratchet smirked as Dylan stood up for him. The boy sure had gusto, and he hadn't lied, either. But at the same time, the last thing he wanted to do was get in an argument.

"Heh, fair point kid." Gloom said. "I guess Ratchet did have a lot of good come out of it. Though a lot of bad came from that war, too."

Dylan nodded, then, after a moment, turned to Ratchet. "Hey Ratchet, can I grab an ice cream cone? I'm feeling something sweet."

Ratchet scanned around; he hated to let Dylan go without checking first. Any kind of shifty person could have been there for all they knew. He nodded his head, and helped Dylan down from the table to grab his dessert. Ratchet was just turning to speak to him when Gloom spoke up.

"Man, Ratchet, I gotta say. You have some real guts."

Ratchet already had a bad feeling about what Gloom meant. As he stared at his friend, he considered letting it go. Yet another side of him did wonder what he meant. "I'm not sure I follow."

Gloom snorted, taking a Cybertronian-sized seat from a nearby table. As he sat down, he flashed his denta in a grin. "You're kidding, right? Nah, probably too humble. The kid obviously. I mean his story's been all over the papers since they arrested those two guys." He explained. "How long of a rap sheet must that kid have? I mean, his dad got off so easy, and now he's gonna have to go to court-."

"Gloom, I'd chose my next words carefully." Ratchet told him darkly.

"What? The kid isn't here! I'm just saying; it really does take guts. I mean how much money have you put down on a psychiatrist already?" He asked; as unaware that Dylan had started to walk back as Ratchet was. "I mean, no offense. But if it was between a surrogate, or that kid, I'd take a surrogate any day. I mean, how can you even love a kid like that?"

Dylan stopped dead in his tracks behind Ratchet as he heard that, suddenly regretting realizing he was a few dollars short, and needed to ask Ratchet for more. Ratchet himself felt his body flaring. "And what is THAT supposed to mean?"

"Well come on, the kid's dad took his innocence. So did those two guys. He's never gonna be normal; neither is your life. Stop me if I'm lying," Gloom commented; causing even more of a pit to form in Dylan's stomach. "But I could definitely never love someone who was raped that young. Too many defects you'd have to deal with..."

That's when Ratchet threw the punch. He wasn't a violent mech, but he did it anyway. But that didn't surprise him; no, what surprised him is he didn't feel remorse. Rather, as Gloom hit the floor, he felt the overwhelming desire to beat him until energon stained the floor. "Get out of my sight. If I ever so much as see you near me again, there's more where that came from."

Ratchet barely had time to register the sound of someone running ahead of him. Ratchet saw Dylan, he saw the water that leaked out of his eyes. The tears. Primus, Dylan hadn't heard that, had he?

"That was so uncalled for, Ratchet!" Gloom protested. "I wasn't saying anything wrong. I was just—"

"He heard you!" Ratchet snapped. "He heard you and now he probably thinks I feel that way. Do you even KNOW how long I've been working to tell him he deserves to be loved? That he deserves to not have to deal with people like you? Primus, I have half a mind to throw you through a wall!"

Gloom's face fell, though more of fear than anything. The look doubled in intensity as Ratchet approached him with a scowl on his face. "Come on, Ratchet. I'm sorry... I didn't mean anything. I'm overloaded. I swear."

Ratchet didn't let him get up, overcharged or not. Rather the moment he stood enough, he'd thrown another punch. One hard enough to send one of Gloom's denta flying. "You know Gloom, I'd be more surprised that your creators loved YOU. I thought one needed a spark to function properly. It must have been a real struggle for them."

Ratchet ignored the looks others gave him. None of them could possibly understand how this felt. To have your own son hear that some people thought he could never be normal. All because of something completely out of his control, something that had been forced on him.

He had to find Dylan before he tried something drastic.

...

Dylan couldn't control the tears, no matter how hard he tried. What if that mech was right? What if he really couldn't be normal? Did Ratchet, despite his apparent "love" for him, believe that, too? He felt the urge to run away again. The urge to run away, and never be found. If he was such an abomination like people like Gloom thought, what would he have to lose anyway?

He thought about this as he sat down on the bench outside the mall. A few people had stopped to ask if he was okay, but he had ignored each one. Why couldn't they leave him alone? Why couldn't they all just leave him ALONE? After about a half an hour, he finally heard Ratchet come down the steps. And felt as the holoform joined him. "Dylan," Ratchet commented softly. The boy looked up. "Dylan, it's alright."

"No it's not; just stop saying that!" Dylan snapped. "I just want to go home, okay? I'm embarrassed. People are staring... I just want to go home!"

That last bit was said in a tone that Ratchet had never heard out of Dylan before. Something that chilled him; the boy really had been hurt by those words. More than ever, given the sobs that were escaping Dylan's throat. Ratchet paused; then nodded. "Alright, alright, let's go home then."

Dylan wouldn't look at him as they left, or the entire ride home.

...

Dylan felt around in the dark for light. It was late, and the moment he found the switch, he could barely see given how bright his room became.

He wasn't sure when he'd realized it was a dream, but within moments, he had found himself thrown on the bed. He groaned, his body twisting and thrashing as the figure above him leaned in. It was Gene, who looked not a day older, even if Dylan was now fourteen.

He held him down, breath running down his neck as Dylan screamed. He tried to get away, tried to fight. Eventually, he succeeded, falling off the bed, but feeling as though he was falling down a deep, dark, never ending expanse of space. He landed in his bedroom, but it wasn't his bedroom. No, it was now a nursery, one with a crib big enough for a giant. A sparkling, he guessed.

He looked up at the sound of wailing. He stared as Ratchet entered, holding a giant robotic baby—a sparkling, maybe?—and flanked by a femme who he couldn't quite make out either. They snuggled up, and stared at the sparkling.

Dylan could feel strong arms wrap around him. Gene was holding him again, and a woman, a social worker was beside him, telling him it just didn't work out, and how they'd keep trying.

"RATCHET!" Dylan shouted, getting the medic's attention. "Ratchet! Don't let them take me! You said you loved me, you promised!"

Ratchet looked at him for a long moment, then down at the sparkling. He gave that look Dylan had come to know from many parents. He looked happy, like he had what he wanted now. "I'm sorry, Dylan. It's just that you're not what I wanted. They are... I hope you understand."

And then Dylan screamed, screamed for Ratchet to help him, to save him. But the mech wasn't listening anymore; he had turned away, and paid no attention. After a moment however, as he was dragged away, he heard him change, he heard the shouting of his name as Ratchet rushed forward. "Dylan! Dylan! Wake up! Wake up, son!"

Dylan woke with a start, finding a few stray tears in his eyes. Sure enough, Ratchet was right there, leaning over him, and looking in his eyes. Dylan scanned the room. It was his again, no sign of a crib, or painted animals, just his stuff, all for him. It was a dream after all, he realized; nothing had happened. "It's my room. You didn't have a sparkling... I didn't get kicked out. I'm not going back with my dad."

Ratchet looked perplexed, but now could see that Dylan must have had a nightmare about that. "Why would that ever happen? Even if I did have a sparkling, you wouldn't go anywhere near that man," Ratchet told him gently. "You understand that, don't you? I love you, that's not going away."

Dylan felt as the mech gently caressed his cheek, pushing some of his tears away. Ratchet knew that this was going to be a fear until the adoption was complete, as much as it sucked. He didn't like seeing Dylan get this way, but with three months to go before their adoption date (a fact he'd learned earlier that week) it was definitely not the end.

"I just... Sometimes I can't help but worry," Dylan muttered. "People have said that before."

"I'm different," Ratchet replied. "You'll figure that out eventually. I'm sure of it."

He began to carefully stroke the boy's back, making him relax slightly. Dylan knew that Ratchet was definitely at least trying to not be like that. But who knew if it was true? "Why don't you have your own kids anyway?" Dylan found himself asking. "You guys can have them at any age, right? I'd think you'd have at least one by now."

Ratchet sighed, thinking of how best to answer that question. It was true, a Cybertronian could have children at any age, but there were multiple reasons he hadn't. "Well to be frank, when I was young I didn't want sparklings. Let's face it, with my fragging childhood, it was terrifying to think of being a father. That changed when I was about the equivalent of thirty. I dated a lot back then and tried... But no one really clicked with me, and I never had kids..."

Ratchet paused a moment, his optics looking away. "Then the war happened. And having a sparkling was not viable. The Decepticons wiped out Youth Sectors, and hunted down Autobot younglings. I couldn't bring myself to bring a sparkling into the world." Dylan frowned. That was disturbing and obviously made him sad. "Then after that, I tried again... I came close to having a family but I failed. That's when I signed up for foster care. But heh, I guess I was too worried."

Dylan shook his head. That was a lot to swallow. Yet he got it, Ratchet was worried about the safety of any child he took in. Whereas now, the war was mostly over, meaning he could handle it better. "Still, you could have had a surrogate. You could have adopted a baby... Gloom's right, y'know. I'm a freak; an abomination. I've never been normal. And I never will be... I'm always gonna be a broken little piece of—"

Ratchet stopped him as the tears poured out. His holoform appeared on the bed, grabbing both of his arms in a gentle, yet firm manner. "Don't you DARE say that. I never want to hear those words out of your mouth again," Ratchet told him, trying to keep himself calm. "What that monster did to you is not your fault. You were a little boy, and you're still only a sparkling. What Gloom said about you was ignorant and disgraceful. And not true."

Dylan shook his head. "You don't know that!"

Ratchet held Dylan close, resting his head on top of the boy's. Giving a sharp intake, he looked at Dylan quietly. "Dylan, I do. Because only the truly ignorant view a victim in such light."He paused a moment. "You want to know why I chose you as my son? This is why. You need me more than a baby or a sparkling raised by me does. You need someone who's going to care. And Primus threw you in my path for that exact reason."

Dylan quietly leaned into his guardian's touch. Maybe that was true, he guessed. But he supposed he could never truly believe it. He felt that deep down, Ratchet would have preferred someone without these problems. But the other side of him, the more logical one, said otherwise. Ratchet could have had someone without problems if he wanted. But he hadn't chosen that, he'd chosen him.

After all, it had been Ratchet who'd asked if he wanted to be adopted.

"But I'm not perfect... Not like they would be."

"Dylan, no one in the universe is perfect. Even Optimus Prime. We're all, by definition, flawed. But we're also strong enough to keep on 'truckin' despite it all." Ratchet told him, taking a deep breath. "I mean, look at you. You've come so far since those days that you were in that attic. You're still here, you're still tough. Frag, this was the first time I even saw something someone said to you get so under your skin."

Dylan looked down. He really had broken more than ever that today. It made him blush; but he hoped he didn't look too weak, or weak at all. "I try... I try to be tough," Dylan replied. He pushed his tears away, but they kept coming anyway. "But sometimes it just hurts too much. Sometimes... Sometimes."

Ratchet gently let out a "shhhh," letting Dylan cry into his shoulder. The boy didn't need to complete the sentence; he knew it was hard. He knew that the boy would undoubtedly struggle with these thoughts his entire life. But at least now he wouldn't be doing that all alone.

"It's alright Dylan," Ratchet told him quietly. "But they're wrong, they all are. Take it from your dad. I love you, and I always will. No matter what some backwards, two-faced smug person tells me. You're mine."

Dylan nodded his head, but didn't say a word. In fact, no other words were spoken that night. Instead Dylan cried, and Ratchet held him until finally the boy fell asleep, clearly having cried out his sadness, and feeling safe knowing his nightmare would never come true. Ratchet tucked the boy back into bed, but as he and his real form stood to leave, the boy grabbed his arm. It was gentle, and soft, and the boy never opened his eyes. "Stay with me? Just a little longer."

Ratchet smiled, settling his real form on the ground. If that was what Dylan needed to sleep easily that night, he would oblige. "Always."