A/N: As usual, a big thanks to my beta, Sidekicks-anonymous, for her work on this chapter!

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CHAPTER 24
Potential

"Primus, I am proud of you."

"Daaaaddd, people are staring..."

"Let them stare! My son's artwork, hanging in a gallery!"

Dylan blushed as Ratchet looked upon his artwork for the third time. His art teacher had done it, taking her best students' works to be on display in the Jasper Museum. Though it was only a one day exhibition, and he felt Ratchet may be overreacting a bit, it was still a fair bit exciting to him too. First Aid, of course, had joined them, and was grinning from receptor-to-receptor beside Ratchet.

Dylan felt his face go red at both of them, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't sure what to think of all of this, though it genuinely made him happy to have people there to support him. "Yeah, I guess it's pretty cool. I mean, it's nothing that original, but I tried." Dylan looked over at the painting of the beach that he had done. "I mean, it's pretty plain."

"Pretty plain? It looks super realistic to me!" First Aid added in happily.

Dylan continued to look down and try and hide his embarrassment. He was never going to get used to the praise, he was sure of that. He'd gone so long without any praise that the fact anyone wanted to praise him was weird. Even stranger that they were praising his art, when the only art he had ever done for the longest time had been the kind most everyone hated.

But there were still a lot of things that he had to get used to in that respect. Being with Ratchet truly was one big learning experience. When he'd come he didn't know what a real family or love were like. "Alright, again, you're embarrassing me. But thanks." Dylan finally managed a laugh.

"That's what family does." First Aid snorted. "What good would we be if we didn't embarrass you a little?"

Dylan shrugged. He guessed he really couldn't argue with that. He had seen parents and family embarrass their children all the time.

"Dylan, is this your family?" Dylan jumped as he spun around to find his teacher, Mr. Lyon making his way over, finally having found his way over. "Which one of you is Ratchet? I've been meaning to thank the mech who got this boy into painting."

Dylan really wanted to disappear now. He knew he had no way of getting out of this conversation. Mr. Lyon was a very eccentric man who had taken a great liking to him. Since the moment he'd seen Dylan's art, he seemed to believe that the boy had an insane amount of talent. So of course, when he'd said his father had convinced him to take up real painting, he'd wanted to meet him.

"This is my dad." Dylan nodded. "Ratchet, this is Mr. Lyon."

"I have to say, I am so thankful that someone told this boy he had talent! I'm surprised he told me it's only been a few months since he took up this type of art. Mr. Ratchet, you truly should be proud of the remarkable boy you have adopted here." Mr. Lyon immediately began chatting Ratchet's ear off. "He could be one of the greats in the making. Just from the last few months we've had him alone, he continues to surprise me with his combination of modern grunge, and classic designs."

Ratchet gave Dylan a smirk that said I told you so, which the boy tried to ignore. "You don't say? Dylan seems to believe the opposite and get embarrassed if I suggest that. I've been telling him since he started that he's got talent."

"Yes, well, he's very wrong. So much so, that I have brought a real professional artist here today. I was hoping that he could look over some of my students' work. Provide good advice to children like Dylan who have such a bright future." Mr. Lyon nodded his head. "I don't suppose either of you have heard of a Cybertronian artist known as Sunstreaker?"

Ratchet's smirk somewhat faded, but he tried to hide it. Sunstreaker was going to be here? Primus! If the twins were here he would never be able to keep Dylan from their influence anymore. Yet, he was going to do his best to hide his actual reaction. "Oh yes, Sunstreaker and his brother, Sideswipe, and I go... way back." He replied finally.

"That's saying the least, Hatchet!"

Dylan stared up as the hand clapped his father on the back. Dylan had imagined the "terror twins" a few times, but they were not at all what he was expecting. Of course, he'd known them by name, they were so famous among the Autobots. But even so, he had to take a moment to take them in. The one that clapped Ratchet on the back was red colored, shorter, with a helm that seemed to be tipped like spiked hair, and a sheepish grin.

Then the second, no doubt his twin, stood looking at his painting. He was a tad bit taller than the other, but their facial structure, and general build gave him away. However, what really set him apart was the deep gold color of his armor, and the twin fins on either side of his head.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Sideswipe." Ratchet spoke with a bit of frustration, turning to look at the red one. "I thought maybe your brother would leave you alone for this."

"Psh! Of course not! I wanted to check it out too. Just because I'm not an artist like Sunshine over there doesn't mean I don't enjoy art!" Sideswipe commented. "Hey! Is this your kid? I've been keeping up with that over the news. What's up, kid? I'm Sideswipe."

Dylan waved shyly, daunted by the mech's own open friendliness. He was definitely the energetic one of the pair. "Uh... Hey, I'm Dylan." He commented. "I've heard a lot about you."

"A lot? Probably nothing good with Hatchet talking about it."

Ratchet crossed his arms. Dylan gave him a "he's got you there" look. "Well, he can make his own decision on you now," Ratchet said shortly. "Hopefully, if he has any sense, he'll see you as the knucklehelm you are."

Dylan paid attention to Sunstreaker now, waiting for him to say or do something. But he didn't; he merely stood there examining the painting.

"Lyon, who was the student who did this piece?" Sunstreaker finally spoke up, his optic ridge raising. "It's probably the best work of art I've seen all day."

Dylan looked a little surprised. "That's... mine, actually."

"Whoa! Hatchet, your kid's an artist?" Sideswipe exclaimed, surprised.

"That's why I'm here right now." Ratchet replied matter-of-factly. "I'm not normally one to go to galleries like this."

But Sunstreaker didn't pay much attention to either one of them. Instead, his optics focused on Dylan. "You're the youngest artist here. I'm surprised a human that inexperienced would claim to make a piece this detailed." He explained rather bluntly.

Dylan stood his ground, taking a step forward. "It's mine! I worked really hard on it... And what do you mean, detailed? I could have made something way better! But I was too nervous and just... I don't know... I went for something in my head."

Sunstreaker cocked an optic ridge. "Take a compliment, fleshy. If you really did do this painting you've got serious potential." He looked towards Ratchet. "You mean to tell me you had a human with this much talent in your house and you didn't let me know?"

Ratchet didn't have an answer prepared for that. "I'd thought about it, admittedly. But, forgive me, you two aren't exactly the best influences for him in my mind." Ratchet said. "I suppose it was inevitable, though. But yes, he is extremely talented. I've been telling him this for months and it still amazes me that he denies it."

Sunstreaker was silent a moment, his optics flickering. "Well, I think I might have one or two ideas. But that's probably best discussed in private. Even I'm not that big of a prick."

Dylan frowned, unsure of how to respond to that. He looked away, and tried to make himself quiet. "Whoa! You aren't kidding. Look at those colors." Sideswipe commented. "You really did this all yourself? Wow, you can't be older than twelve!"

"I'm fourteen, about to be fifteen." Dylan replied, offended.

Sideswipe looked a bit embarrassed by that, but Sunstreaker had to laugh. Lyon however, looked over at him and spoke up. "Well, you definitely have a good eye. Dylan's the youngest one here, but he's the most talented young teen I've met. Most kids here have developed their styles for four years. But Dylan's done it quickly." He explained. "I hoped you'd take notice in him; I believe he needs mentorship beyond what I can teach him."

Dylan looked at Lyon like he had just grown a second head. What in the world was he saying? Had he just asked Sunstreaker about mentoring him? Even Dylan knew that was stupid. He'd heard that Sunstreaker was a world-renowned artist. Even if he was a friend of Dylan's father and teacher, he had no time to be a mentor.

"Lyon, you're kidding me, right? You know I don't mentor." Sunstreaker snorted. "And if I did, the last place I'd look is a teenager. Kid, don't take it personally, you're talented. But I don't exactly play well with youths of any species."

"He barely gets along with adults of his species!" Sideswipe joked.

"Ain't that the truth?" Ratchet rolled his optics. "Not to mention the thought of my son being mentored by him..."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Sunstreaker replied with a scowl.

"With no offense intended to you, Sunstreaker, Dylan was... not very well behaved when I first met him. And given your track record with younglings. I'm pretty sure you'd either botch it, or turn him back down that road. The latter of which I'm not willing to let happen."

"Hey! I could be a good mentor if I wanted to!" Sunstreaker snapped, optics narrowing. "Your youngling has enough talent that I would make a great one."

Dylan looked confused. Was Sunstreaker saying he'd do it? No, he didn't think that for a second. The mech had made it clear that he didn't have any interest in mentoring, despite his compliments.

"That's a bit of a laugh if you ask me, Sunshine. Even I can't see it." Sideswipe teased his brother.

"Don't call me that!"

"Sorry, but seriously. You could hardly stand other younglings when WE were their age!"

Sunstreaker looked really annoyed now, especially as First Aid chuckled in amusement. The medic shook his head, and put an arm around each of their shoulders. "Guys, we're missing the point here. Dylan's a really talented kid, and it's great you both think he's great." He explained. "Let's not argue about—"

"No, no... They want to think that, that's fine." Sunstreaker replied. "Because I intend to prove them wrong."

"Excuse me?" Ratchet asked.

Sunstreaker smirked pridefully, his optics turning to Dylan. "If the kid really wants a mentor, I can do it. I mean, it's not like I'm working with nothing. And since you all seem to think I'd make such a bad one, what better way to prove you wrong?" He asked smugly.

Dylan was shocked. Sunstreaker saw enough in him to actually want to mentor him? Even if it was only to prove his friends wrong? "I-I-I-I don't know. I mean, I'm not sure I'm that good... I don't even know if I want to be an artist for sure."

"Don't know if you want to be an artist!? Is that some sort of joke?" Dylan shook his head at the golden mech. "Kid, no one paints with the amount of care I see in your art and doesn't have passion for it. You can't tell me you don't love working on it, at least."

Dylan looked at the painting. He couldn't lie there. He did love painting, and he had enjoyed spray painting too. Was that passion? He looked confused, trying to think of what to say. "Well I do... I guess..."

Ratchet gave a sigh and spoke up. "He has great passion for what he does. That much is obvious. He spent days on that painting, hardly did anything else." Dylan blushed a little at that. "But if you want to do this, you're going to have to convince me you're not going to shrug this off. Dylan has a hard time putting trust in people as it is."

Sunstreaker tensed, and looked back at Dylan, as if he already knew that. Like some part of him understood exactly what Ratchet meant. "I need to get the rest of the sparklings in. So if you want him to get some pointers and mentoring from me, bring him by my place tomorrow. Around six o'clock at night." He nodded his head. "If so, I'll see you around, pipsqueak."

"It was uh, nice to meet you."

"Catch ya later guys." Sideswipe nodded. "Nice meeting you, Dylan."

And with that, the twins were off. Dylan looked at Ratchet, then to Lyon. The teacher smiled. "Well, I should go speak to the other families as well. It was so nice to meet you both. Dylan, come see me before you leave, will you?"

"Sure..."

And then it was just the three of them. First Aid turned to look at Ratchet. "Welp, this is gonna be interesting. You really going to bring him by Sunny's? I bet he'd get even better with his help!" He added.

Ratchet looked like he was still deciding. "That's not untrue... But I'll have to sit on it a bit. I'm not saying no, though." He added.

Dylan had a feeling that he knew the answer—and it was "yes".

...

Of course, after some convincing by First Aid, Ratchet agreed.

The twins lived in a rather nice, comfortable two-story house. It seemed rather nice from the outside, but Dylan had a feeling it would be cluttered inside.

"You know, you don't have to go. Sunstreaker offered but you don't have to take it." Ratchet stated as they walked up the sidewalk to the cream-colored home. "He's really not that great with kids."

"He's one of the best painters out there, though. I saw his work online earlier, dad. He's amazing."

Ratchet sighed, even as he rang the doorbell to the home. His optics regarded his son like he just wasn't sure what to say. "That's true... But he's still a bit different, Dylan. He won't be soft on you like most are. I don't want to see you upset."

"Are you saying I'd upset a child on purpose?"

Ratchet looked over with embarrassment as Sunstreaker stood in the doorway now. The golden mech looked at the older one as if waiting for a response. But Ratchet merely groaned, he sagged his shoulders. "Just promise me you'll at least go easy on him. Remember, this is my son. If he comes home crying, I'll have your helm."

Sunstreaker shifted a bit, shrugging his shoulders. "Trust me, I'm not sparkless. I read the stories in the paper just like everyone else did. I'll be easy on the kid, obviously. But I don't think he wants to be treated like a fragile piece of glass. Sides and I know that as well as anyone."

Ratchet was silent, but Dylan looked surprised. Had the twins been abuse victims? "I understand that," his father said, "But I'm still warning you. Remember how you would have felt at his age. I'm sure you had your own struggles with... Your situation." Sunstreaker was silent, but finally nodded. "Alright, Dylan, I'll be waiting for a call to come pick you up... Be good to them. I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Yeah, dad. I got it." Dylan replied. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

Ratchet seemed to hesitate after speaking, but finally left. For a moment, Dylan and Sunstreaker stood there, watching and waiting for him to drive off. Once he had, Sunstreaker gave a friendly smile, a rare occurrence for him. Dylan had a feeling it was his way of trying to show Dylan he didn't bite TOO much. "Alright. No turning back now, pipsqueak. Come on in."

Dylan followed him inside. It was just as he expected-a bit messy, with art hanging on the walls and some swords on tables. But for the most part, it looked typical of two bachelor mechs living together.

"So I'm gonna get this question out of the way now. How the pit did you end up with Hatchet as your sire?" Sunstreaker asked.

The question surprised Dylan. Of course, he should have seen this coming, given how they seemed to view Ratchet. "Well, I guess it's a long story. Though it started with me deciding Dad needed a new paint job." He laughed lightly.

"A new paint job?" Sunstreaker questioned.

"Yeah, I used to tag. And Dad was just sort of an easy target because he was recharging. But he sees everything, so of course he caught me. So he made me do community service instead of going to juvie... That led to him fostering me... And, well..." Dylan paused a moment. "I guess he just showed me the love no one else did. So when he asked to adopt me, I said yes."

"You must have been dropped on your head or something to want him to adopt you. That mech is crazy most of the time." Sunstreaker snorted. "Glad he treats you that well, though. Every kid deserves to be loved. Even I recognize that and I'm not a kid person most of the time."

Dylan laughed, knowing that the mech had a point. Ratchet was a little crazy, but he sure as heck was a good dad. "Yeah, he's a little on the eccentric side but he's good to me. And he's probably the only person I've ever felt safe or loved by." He shook his head. "I know it's cheesy, but it's true. So I guess I'm OK with it being cheesy."

Sunstreaker shrugged as he led Dylan down a hallway, his optics traveling back to him. "Well I've never seen Ratchet look at someone the way he looks at you. I mean, you'd think you were a patient with all that care and sappy scrap in his optics every time he's around you." Sunstreaker snorted. "It's kind of sickeningly sweet."

"Uh... Thanks? I think?"

Sunstreaker didn't reply as they entered a room that appeared to be his office. It was filled with paintings, both finished and unfinished. "Before we start, I have a question. It's really important towards understanding your style..." He paused a moment. "Why do you paint?"

"Excuse me?" Dylan asked blankly.

"Why do you paint? Every artist has a reason."

Dylan blinked. No one had ever asked him that before. His voice caught in his throat, his mind trying to think of how to avoid saying it. But he knew that he couldn't keep the trauma in forever. He was getting better at sharing the truth, as hard as it was. "When I lived with my bio dad, he used to keep me in an attic. I didn't have a lot to do but there were... paints in the attic." He explained. "I used to paint on the walls. Stick figures at first, stupid little stuff... It helped me forget where I was and what he was doing... It made me happy."

Sunstreaker looked like he wasn't sure how to respond to that. Some artists used painting as an escape, but this... This was a whole other level of tragic. "So that's why you started tagging huh? You painted on the walls." Sunstreaker asked. He got a shrug, and a nod in return. "That's... Quite the way to start a hobby."

"I don't need pity." Dylan replied. "I'm glad it was there. Without it... I don't know what I'd do."

Sunstreaker nodded his head, and gave the faintest of smiles. "Painting to escape a horrible reality…having it become a lifelong passion…" He murmured, his voice soft. "I guess we have that in common kid. Which means this will be a piece of cake."

Dylan could only wonder what that meant.

...

A/N: There will be more of this next chapter! But this was getting really long and I thought I'd split up the Sunstreaker bits between two chapters as opposed to one long chapter.