"Daddy?" Cybershock asked her creator, optics growing slightly wide with growing anxiety, as he worked at unwrapping the metallic wrappings from around her damaged lower leg. It was more then clear that he was being just as gentle as he could in the task, and working so slowly in his hesitation to hurt her. But energon had soaked though already in the short time it had taken just to reach the hospital, it was clear the damage was significant, and the youngling – though she hid it well, was clearly in some real pain. "Is this... bad?"
Knockout stood still for a moment, just looking carefully at the damage, before he reached up to switch on an overhead light, which made the little bot blink from discomfort and cringe with slight nervousness.
"It's not terrible," he muttered, thoughtfully. And he shook his head with a slightly sad expression. "It is however, certainly bad enough." He looked carefully at his youngling, his optics on hers. "My girl, you've manged to cut yourself almost clear to the frame. And you've nicked a line just a little bit. That's where all the energon is coming from..."
"Oh... no..." Cybershock said, her voice suddenly half way to helpless. And clearly she was beginning to panic a little, though she tried just as obviously hard to hide it."
"You're okay, baby," Arcee said, stepping closer to the repair table the small bot lay on, inside a small treatment room on the hospital's youngling ward. She looked up at her bondmate then, sure her expression must have looked helpless, and muttered quietly, "I didn't think it was that bad."
"One hundred and ten percent fixable," Knockout answered to assure both his mate and their child all at once.
Arcee watched him as he crossed the room quickly, and mixed something into a small container half filled with energon, which he then carried back and handed to the youngling urging her to drink it, which she did without any complaint, and a curious look on her face-plate.
He saw damage like this so often, and Arcee knew that. But he looked strangely uneasy regardless. And she knew it was because now it was their own child that was injured. She watched her mate, sadly, as he leaned down closer to the youngling, and held her small hand in his larger one for a moment.
"Cybershock," he said slowly. "I'm going to call Ratchet, and let him do repairs on you, alright?"
The youngling bot appeared to consider for just tiny second, before her optics opened wider in slight distress. She held tightly to his hand with the one he was holding, and her little body stiffened badly.
"Can.. can't you do it?" she asked urgently, her voice slightly shaky with growing anxiety by then. "You fix little bots all the time, Daddy!"
"Okay," Knockout nodded. But Arcee saw the distress on his face-plate. And no matter how he tried, he could not possibly ave hidden that from her.
The door to the small treatment room opened then And a young medical student hurried in, pushing a cart of supplies he must have been out gathering up, at Knockout's request. Starsong. Arcee remembered his name after a good moment of trying to. And she nodded to him in polite greeting, smiling politely when he did the same.
"Daddy?" Cybershock asked. Her voice was quiet and shaky again, and she almost trembled now with obvious dread. She had been laying partly upright in a position her creator could clearly work from well enough, because he'd been doing so just fine. But suddenly she moved, sitting herself up and turning her body into an awkward position that must have made her leg hurt worse if nothing else. Her hand held her creator's tighter. And she looked around the room, clearly afraid now. "Do... do I need to... to power down?"
"I'm not sure," Knockout answered her calmly. He stood still for a second, watching her with a thinking expression.
"How do you feel, my girl?" he asked his youngling, resting a hand again on her shoulder panel, and smiling just a little. "Think you can stay nice and calm, and lay still for me if we let you try and stay awake?"
"Yeah..." the little bot answered, nodding a little, and sounding truly hopeful and relieved.
"Alright then," he said, calm and still smiling assurance while he gently pulled his hand away from hers so that he could work. "We'll give this a good try." He smiled at the little bot, again with assurance, before he added calmly, "I'm going to lay you flat, okay,"
"'Kay..." Cybershock mumbled. Her voice was calm and strangely sleepy. Her optics blinked a little.
'Knockout,' Arcee said, speaking to him silently through their spark connection. And even so, her voice was urgent, concerned. 'You're really not going to put her into power down? I really think you should...'
'It's perfectly obvious the thought of powering down had her more scared than the repair itself,' Knockout answered, seriously. Starsong had grabbed a light blanket from a cupboard without even needing to be asked to. And Knockout took it from him quickly, throwing it gently over the youngling's upper body, smiling at her when she giggled a little, as he tucked it under her lightly. 'And powering any bot down for something this simple, would not even cross a medic's mind if she was a little bit bigger. With younglings her age I've always found it's best to let them have some say."
'I'll never tell you how to do your job. You know exactly what works and when. But... Cybershock is my baby. I guess that makes it seem different somehow.'
'She's my baby too, remember,' Knockout almost chuckled then through their connection, before he turned more serious then before, and sighed. 'If I'm honest, I thought my spark would stop when she asked me to do this for her myself. I didn't expect her to. I really wanted to let Ratchet take over, because she's my child..."
'Exactly why she trusts you more than any bot...'
'I just can't stand the thought of hurting her... even if it is of course only while trying to fix her...'
'She understands.' Arcee said, assuring him now with a hint of smile though her own still obviously unease. She turned to smile with the same assurance at the youngling, who now lay still and quiet on the repair table, her optics nearly closed, and her hand lightly held the corner of the blanket she was covered in – a cute and silly thing she'd done since she was tiny. Arcee chuckled then, despite the serious situation. And looked back at her mate again.
'What did you give her?' she asked him still silently, though she trusted him just as well as their youngling did.
'Just a bit of pain medication,' Knockout answered right back. He looked at the youngling again, smiling to see how well it was clearly working. 'But it'll keep her calmer too, make her a bit sleepy. I don't think she'll full on recharge though.'
'You knew all along she'd refuse to power down if given a choice,' Arcee mused in silent realization and dismay.
'Of course I knew that,' Knockout smiled a little. 'And I know you knew it too.'
'So, what can I do?'
'Talk to her, distract her. Do your best to keep her from moving if she tries.' Knockout turned around a second, to quickly inventory the items set out by the medical student. And he nodded his approval to said nervous young student, before his attention went back to his mate and their youngling again.
'I fear you might just hate for this far more than she will,' he explained, still silently. 'Because she is still a youngling, in a youngling frame, there is no means of simply blocking the pain sensory network through a control panel. In frames this little we block wiring manually with medication and an injector.'
'That will be horrible for her...'
Cybershock had always been the calmest, boldest and most daring of the younglings most bots knew of. And she was co-operative as could be when it came to routine medical care... except when it came to anything sharp. Since the day she been old enough to understand spoken words the very mention of any such thing would make her pout and grumble, forgetting her words almost entirely, while she cringed and stiffened in panic. It got no better as she grew older. And Arcee remembered how she'd sat on her creator's lap just recently and nearly too big then to do so, sobbing hard against his armour, trembling badly, while Ratchet gave her anti-viral boosters.
'It will be for a moment, yeah.' Knockout sighed again, forcing away his own dread, to smile again in assurance at the youngling, who lay looking back at him with her optics still half closed.
"Cybershock," Knockout said gently. He held one of her hands for just a moment while he talked to her, and she just lay still and listened. "You ready, my girl? I'll be honest. This will probably hurt pretty bad for a minute. But you won't feel anything more after that, okay?"
"Ready," Cybershock said bravely, sleepily and she nodded her head just a little as she answered. But just a second after that, her body stiffened just slightly, and her nodding turned instead of shaking her head just a tiniest bit. "Wait! Wait! What... what are you going to do?"
"You just lay still now baby, okay," Arcee said, calmly. She'd reached the same conclusion Knockout clearly had already – that if they could help it, the young bot might just be best off not exactly knowing. She rested one hand lightly on the back of the little one's shoulder panel, and took a slow intake, forcing a smile onto her face-plate, in order to keep the youngling calm. One of the youngling's little and still held the corner of her cover, but the other, lay beside her doing notion. And Arcee grabbed it gently, noted a slight slowing of the little bot;s intakes as soon as she did.
Picking up a small spray bottle that Starsong had filled already with cleaner for him, Knockout gently spayed a tiny stream of fluid over his child's lower leg, just so he could see what he was doing under the steady – though thankfully lightening - flow of energon from the small gash and the nicked line beneath it. So far so good, it seemed. His youngling barely moved at all, jerking away only slightly, it seemed, from the coolness of the cleaner. With only slightly more confidence now, Knockout quickly picked up the small injector from the worktable, careful to hold it exactly where she would not see it in his hand if she were to open her optics again, which she didn't. He located a main wire quickly, at the edge of the small gash. And with a quick intake to calm himself, because he was sure he was possibly far more in need of calming down than his own youngling by then, he worked to inject the medication against the wire just as quickly and carefully as he could.
Cybershock lightly whimpered then, once with pain. And her injured leg kicked lightly, a mostly instinctive need, Arcee understood sadly, to free herself. Because any bot, particularly a young one, would naturally try hard to free themselves from something painful if they possibly could.
"Intake, my girl," Knockout said, still forcing calm into his voice, when he noticed quickly that indeed the little bot had pulled an intake in, only to hold it instead of 'breathing,' out again. He turned then to Starsong, with a quick instruction of, "come here for a moment. Try to hold her in place for me, but please, hold her gently."
Knockout shifted a little, to repeat the process of a second before with the next tiny wire, determined to do the job well, all while causing as little pain as he could to his own youngling. And this time Cybershock lay perfectly still, just intaking slowly, and impressively bravely. And she did just the same when he shifted positions again to keep on going. Cybershock was clearly in some pain. She had to be, because any bot would have been. And Knockout's spark broke a little as he worked because he hated so much to cause her any discomfort at all. But she just held her carrier's hand tightly, intaking slowly with her optics still tightly closed, and her little face-plate hidden against the covering pulled over the repair table.
"This is going to the worst of it yet. I'll go as quick as I can," Knockout told the youngling, well aware that it was his bondmate who cringed a little at that, while the youngling herself just stayed still, and nodded a little in understanding, with her face-plate still hidden.
"M...mama?" she mumbled quietly, her voice shaking badly.
"I'm still here, baby," Arcee assured her at once, squeezing her hand a little as she did.
And she watched her mate as he moved, working as fast as ever, to find the wiring running to the leaking line somewhere under the little bot's torn armour plating. And this time the youngling bot gasped with her obvious pain, before he'd done much of anything.
"Ouch... ouch..." Cybershock mumbled, obviously not able to help herself then. And she clearly still tried to hold still, trusting her creator, in spite of the pain she was in. But she just couldn't quite seem to do so very well.
"You're okay," Arcee told the youngling, encouraging her with gentle steady rubbing of her back panel, and a smile she couldn't see. "I can't believe how good you're doing with this." Arcee wasn't exaggerating either just for the sake of encouragement. The youngling really was a nearly perfect patient, even given her pain at the moment.
"I know, I know, my girl," Knockout said slowly. And his own despair was still more than obvious "This is horrible. I'm sorry. Just a few more seconds, I promise."
"Owwww" Cybershock moaned then, a coolant tear appearing on the covering, and flowing slowly away from her mostly hidden and closed left optic. Her right hand held tightly to her carrier's, squeezing as hard as she could. And she lifted the left from where it had been holding lightly to her blanket, only to wave it in panic, trying to bat and grab at her creator's hands in her growing distress. "Please stop... stop..."
"We're done," Knockout answered, assuring her again with the calmness of his voice. Her set the injector back down on the worktable, then thought better of it, and instead picked it up again, only to stash it away inside the table's small storage drawer, once again well out of sight. He was amazed that his youngling had gone just as long as she had, letting him finish entirely, before she started crying. And in the same same moment, he was near devastated at understanding he'd made her cry at all to begin with.
"Good job, baby," Arcee said to the youngling. And with a hand resting lightly on the side of her little blue face-plate, she encouraged her to look up again and open her optics. "You did it!"
Cybershock looked up at her then. And slowly she smiled a little , with a few tiny coolant tears quickly drying on her face-plate. Her hand still held her carrier's tightly, and she appeared to realize that for the first time. Because she quickly let go, gently grabbing it again though far lighter now.
"Sorry, Mama," the youngling apologized. But Arcee simply smiled at her.
"It's fine," she said "Don't be sorry."
"I can't feel the bottom of my leg," Cybershock said, optics wide open again, looking around and clearly far more amazed then even remotely scared by her current condition.
"I think that's the idea," Arcee told her, chuckling loudly now. "Keep holding still though, okay baby?"
"Okay," Cybershock answered easily.
And much to the dismay of both her creator and carrier, her optics went straight to her damaged leg, her head turned a little awkwardly and watching intently as soon as Knockout began the job of patching up the nicked internal line with a mini-welder.
"Don't look, don't look," Arcee cried in disbelief. And she looked around the small treatment room at once, obviously searching out something, anything at all, she might use to distract the youngling with.
But Cybershock was far too old already, to be distracted by simple shiny things, or harmless tools with moving parts, as might have worked when she was younger. And she went right on, calmly watching, as Arcee quickly gave up the idea of distracting her from it that way.
"How about we go to the market tomorrow?" Arcee asked, speaking quickly. "We need flavor packs for the energon dispenser anyway, and we can see about a couple new data discs for you."
"'Kay, Mama," Cybershock answered, simply. She still watched Knockout work, just as intently as before, with slightly sleepy optics. And the tone of her voice made it clear that any answers to her carrier's questioning were secondary to that in her own processor. Arcee chuckled then, with a shake of her head.
"She's just as bad as you are," she commented then, to her bondmate, all without pulling his attention away from his work. "She's watching because it's truly interesting to her."
"It's not going to hurt anything," Knockout answered, assured as he went on working.
"If anyone ever had any doubt at all, she's a medic's kid..." Arcee mumbled, with another chuckle and a shake of her head, after another failed try at making their youngling talk to her about nothing, instead of so intently watching herself be repaired.
'You were right in not powering her down,' Arcee told her mate, silently again though their spark connection. 'As fast as you can work, you'll clearly be done in a few more minutes. And I so often forget how tough our kid is.'
'I never like to say I told you so... but,' Knockout replied, still working intently. And his silent voice laughed jut a little.
'Watch it...' Arcee answered back in mock warning. Her optics were quickly right back on their youngling again. And shook her head, still dismayed as the little bot just went on watching her creator repair her with a mini-welder. Cybershock's expression, muted only slightly by her sleepiness from the mild medication, truly was one of fascination and interest.
'She's so... calm,' Arcee mused a short moment later, impressed with her youngling – if not nearly driven to cringing by then at watching just how intently she continued to watch her creator while he repaired her. She didn't know many adult bots who would have simply watched like that, and could never have imagined a youngling wanting to do so.
"So, how did this happen in the first place?" Knockout asked. He spoke out loud again now. And his question was clearly meant for whoever answered it for him. It was exactly the question Arcee new he'd ask eventually of course. And although she had yet to get the details herself, she shuddered with anger just thinking again of what she knew already.
"Speedtrap," Cybershock explained, looking up for a moment to frown with sudden anger at the bot she'd just mentioned, before she went right back to watching her creator fix her again. "He chased me part way home from Hotwire's. So I stopped to talk to him for a minute on the playground... I hoped that would make him leave me alone. He pushed me once, so I pushed him back. He pushed me harder. And I fell."
"I see..." Knockout muttered. It was clear in an instant that he was far from pleased with the situation. Cybershock had never been one to fight with other younglings. This was the first time either of her parents had heard of her ever doing so no matter what the reason was.
"Daddy. He laughed at you for falling in the market once," Cybershock continued. And she was clearly beginning to get upset now. Her little body stiffened, and and she made a frustrated huffing sound. "He... he called you a drunk. He laughed when I said he was wrong. Then he..." she stopped speaking then, her body stiff with her obvious fury, as she looked up into her creator's optics. "He... said you might have been better off dead!"
'She was defending me...' Arcee heard Knockout's voice say, speaking silently again in her processor. He continued to work, clearly almost done by then. And the youngling, to her dismay, had gone right back to intently watching him. But Knockout was so clearly bothered, defeated by the implication of what the little one had done.
'Our youngling should not need to defend me,' he muttered silently just a second later. 'I should be defending her...'
"Firestorm," Soundwave said to the bot soon to be his bondmate, in the near darkness of their recharge room. He could see the glow of her optics, and knew she was awake. And the stiffness of her body turned away from his own, though still close to him, concerned him at once. He moved then himself, rested a hand on her shoulder panel while he sat himself up part way. "Are you... alright?"
Firestorm moved a little so that she could look at him. And she smiled just a little in the darkness. But she didn't roll her body over so that she could face toward him, as she'd always done. And her head nodded only slightly.
"I've been awake thinking," she mumbled, serious and strangely shakily. "I just can't seem to recharge..."
"What are you thinking about?" Soundwave asked slowly. He gently tugged against the shoulder panel he still held, urging her to turn and look at him, which she did.
"What will happen if the world is invaded by those last remaining 'cons?" she asked, her voice quiet. "I know the Autobots have a plan. But what if it fails? What if that new army that's coming is bigger than anyone thinks?" Her optics opened wider, and she stared into the darkness of the recharge room, showing signs of true unease where she had certainly never been prone to it ever before. "What if Cybertron is back at war?"
"Firestorm, I don't think that will happen..." Soundwave said, only hoping just as much as anyone else so did, that he was right.
"But what if it does?" Firestorm insisted.
"You're a neutral, Firestorm," Soundwave told her, smiling assurance in the darkness as he puled her against him. "I can't be sure... no one can. But it's likely you could leave again if it came to that... just like your family did once before... wait it out on board a ship. And of course our child would go with you."
"I know that much," Firestorm said, still no less anxious than she'd been before. And Soundwave just smiled again with assurance. "Though I would never want to think of leaving. But... what about you?"
"I would fight for the Autobots," he said simply.
"Against your own former faction?" Firestorm questioned him. And Soundwave just sighed, sadly.
"Yes," he answered, serious and thinking for a moment. "There was a time, that would have bothered me. I helped the build that faction. But the Autobots are my true faction now. And with them is where my spark lies, because they... we... are truly right."
Firestorm smiled then. But still she looked both tired to the point of misery and too shaken to recharge. And Soundwave recalled vaguely that she had kicked and moaned and yanked erratically at the covers in the night, which had woken him up after her.
"You had nightmares again?" he asked her, sadly knowing the answer already. She was the one of them having nightmares now, and it seemed to have happened every night since he'd come home to her.
"Yes..." Firestorm mumbled, nodding as she pressed her body tighter against his.
"Another dream about the war for Cybertron?" Soundwave guessed. And again, Firestorm nodded slowly.
Such nightmares were the only ones she ever seemed to have, and almost the only dreams she seemed to dream at all in days. Soundwave had grown worried of course, and more so because he couldn't understand a reason for it. She was a neutral, and a refugee. She had never even been there.
"The city was burning again," she said, her arms wrapped tight around him now as she spoke. And with her body so very close to his, Soundwave was certain he could feel the light pulse from her spark chamber beneath her armour, as their newspark moved faster. "I held a youngling my the hand... a small one... a barely walking first frame. And we tried to run. There was nowhere to run though and bombs were going off in every direction. I heard heavy stomping footsteps and someone yelling to get down... There was blaster fire and our child was dead on the road..."
Soundwave cringed a little, at Firestorm's recollection of her nightmare. But he knew at once, it was little different then any other she'd described, the night before, or the night before that. There was always a small child, and the child always offlined. It was always war that killed the youngling, and it was always so very violent.
"Those dreams of yours are just that," he said firmly, hugging her tight before he gently lay her back down flat on their recharge station. "Some very bad dreams. You fear for our newspark because every carrier does. And so you dream your fear, because your processor needs to make it all make sense..."
"It's funny," Firestorm mused, calmer now and smiling weakly in the darkness, as she reached for Soundwave's hands and grabbed them gently. "In every crazy horrible dream I so clearly see the newspark as a youngling. It... always looks so much like you. But I never know if it's a boy of a girl. And the youngling never seems to have a name..."
"We haven't learned the gender yet," Soundwave answered simply, because to him it suddenly made perfect sense. "And we haven't picked a name."
Firestorm nodded, laughing just a little, obviously realizing herself just how much sense that suddenly made. And she smiled for a moment before her smile faded, and she closed her optics. Just a second later though, they were wide open again, and her frame had stiffened.
"Are you alright?" Soundwave asked her. And she looked up at him, scared and uneasy all over again, and just as tired as ever. Slowly she shook her head.
And so, Soundwave lay down beside her again, his arms tight around her, as they lay in the darkness – which was now broken slightly by the rising sun beginning to show itself outside the partly open curtains. He smiled at her, and pulled her close against his frame, again feeling the slight motion of the newspark as it pulsed hard inside her little body.
"Dreams can't hurt you, remember," he said slowly, calmly. He felt the stiffness slowly leave her frame as she lay safe against him. "Our newspark is fine. And you are too."
"Do you really love him?" Firestorm asked, her voice quiet as she drifted fast toward recharge. She'd asked that very same question a lot since he'd come back. And he could not say he blamed her for her need of constant reassurance. Her hand held his again, though lightly now. "Do you really still love me?"
"Yes," he answered her, smiling as the sun continued rising. "... and that very much applies to both of you."
"I'm glad you reconsidered," Firestorm mumbled, a hint of a sleepy smile on her face-plate. She still said that so often too. But Soundwave didn't mind that either, and he knew she knew it. So he just went on smiling, as she finally dropped off back into recharge.
He moved again once she'd dozed off. But he didn't far. Instead he simply held way to sat up again on the recharge station. And for a good while, he just watched her while she recharged.
Soundwave had never before known any bot who had carried a newspark while body also produced its frame. In his understanding – and likely anyone's – a youngling's frame was built by his creators, and his spark placed inside it once said spark was born. He knew that so called 'protoform carriers' existed too, or at least they had once. And such a thing had once even been common to all, according to the records – at least that's what Ratchet had explained. Still, for a modern bot to carry that way was unheard of. And that made it terrifying to him.
She had ways to go still in carrying their youngling. She was still not halfway, as he understood it. But it was becoming clear the youngling would be big. The protoform that was steadily growing inside Firestorm's frame was big enough already that her body armour was growing visibly tight around her front. And it appeared at least a little uncomfortable. Her body wouldn't change all that much... a metal body couldn't. But looking at her then so intently, considering the time she had left to carry, Soundwave grew worried Firestorm was a mini-bot. And a small one at that – certainly small enough to be mistaken all too often for a forth-frame youngling, by hurried bots who failed to pay attention. And Ratchet had hinted already just the day before, at her need to be careful, least she fail to carry to term.
Soundwave got up slowly, once he was certain that Firestorm was soundly back in recharge. And with light creeping steps and careful not to wake her, he wandered away from the recharge station. He stood for a moment in front of the window, watching the sun as it rose over the city. He crossed the room then and left it, walking slowly down the hallway and into the living room.
A first-frame recharging basket stood propped up out of the way behind the sofa and still in it's box. And Soundwave, recalling his promise to build it, decided he might as well do exactly that – even if it was a little early to worry about that yet. He began to open the box, found it opened already,and laughed, remembering that Firestorm had looked it over once before deciding the job was impossible for her. And so, he simply tipped the parts out into the living room floor, careful to make as little noise as possible in doing so. His mind formed a picture at once, of how the pieces were meant to fit together, as soon as he;d spent a moment looking them over on the floor. And slowly, he began to build the thing – assembling the three simple pieces that made up the basket first, before he moved on to the frame it sat on.
There was, he saw as he got it nearly together, a small catch and a level beneath it, to allow it to rock, or to lock it into place so it sat steady. And for the first time, he thought of sitting beside the thing one day, pushing it lightly to rock the child the lay inside it. He recalled Speedbreaker's child, who he'd held once when she was a tiny first-frame – a youngling he'd been encouraged to hold because clearly most other bots they knew had already gotten such joy out of passing around er and her brother to be held. He smiled, recalling how the tiny bot had grabbed his fingertips, just like he know babies did with anybot. And he remembered the day – that same day... the day of his initiation party – that Knockout's child, Cybershock, much younger then, had climbed into his lap without a thought about it. She as the first – and so far the only – youngling to ever have done that. But then, he wasn't exactly around younglings much. His own badly damaged youngling sister Lightwave certainly liked to whir at him happily though.
Soundwave finished his task of building the basket, and stood up from the floor to rock it back and forth a bit, testing to assure himself of its safety. And carefully he pushed it into a corner of the living room where could surprise Firestorm with it before they found its proper place. He stood then for a long moment, just looking at the fancy silvery metallic basket, with its clean white padded inside. He knew that one day, sooner than later, a tiny bot - one he himself had created – would recharge inside that small basket. And he wondered what the tiny bot would look like. He thought again of Speedbreaker's tiny youngling girl, who'd grabbed his fingertips and giggled, and he knew his own youngling would do the very same. The youngling would be a real living spark. She – or maybe he – already was. And suddenly, looking at the small recharging basket again, he shook with his remorse over deciding once that the spark was a mistake.
"Soundwave...?" Firestorm's voice slowly caught his attention. And he realized only then that he'd been crying hard while he stood in the middle of their living room, still looking at the empty recharging basket pushed into a corner. She sounded sleepy – he could tell she'd only just woken up, and of course found him gone. But she smiled slightly, through obvious concern as she quickly walked closer to him.
"Fire... storm..." Soundwave said slowly. And he tried hard to stop his coolant tears but couldn't as he carefully rested a hand over her spark chamber. "I'm... sorry..."
Firestorm just looked up at him, smiling with that same concern. Although she showed a look of silent assurance now at the very same time. Soundwave though was not done explaining all he wanted to say. And he tried hard to do exactly that, even as words threatened to fail him again.
"Newspark... was not a mistake... not a tragic accident. You ask often if I love the baby... I do love her. More than anything. I am... so very sorry..more sorry than anything for asking you to destroy her. How could I, when she will be... brilliant beautiful youngling. Our youngling..."
"You know I forgive you," Firestorm said. And when she wrapped her arms around just as tightly as she could, he could feel the slight hint of her slightly misshapen middle, which had shifted a little to accommodate the frame that her body was producing. "You now I understand you had your reasons."
"I know. I know... but..." Soundwave could not even express what it was he was trying to say now – his greatest and suddenly almost paralyzing fear. But Firestorm just smiled at him again anyway, her optics telling him somehow with a single word that she understood him anyway.
"The newspark..." she said slowly, moving to hold the hand he still held over her spark chamber. "Our baby... He's awake now. I know he is because I can feel his awareness. He is... calm... happy. Soundwave... I believe that he forgives you too."
Cybershock was busy in her small recharge room. She sat at her metal work desk, typing just as fast as she could on a data pad, as she worked on homework. She wished, somewhat idly, that she could type faster and better – more like Hotwire could. And she felt herself growing just a little frustrated, when she found after reading back over several lines of code she had just finished typing, that she had made several ridiculous mistakes in the process. High Cybertronian language was not her favourite subject to study. She would have much preferred working on science for a while. That she could eagerly study for hours. Or even post war history. That subject had began to fascinate her too...
The youngling bot sighed a little and looking with determination at her pad of written language code again. And she sighed louder, when she spotted another mistake. She reached over toward the music player that sat, set up on a wall mounted shelf near her desk, and changed music tracks that played on it with the light touch of a button. The track that started playing now was faster than the last, upbeat and one of her favourite songs. And Cybershock took a second to tap her hands on her work desk in rough time to the music, making light metal tinging sounds, before she settled back down to her homework.
She heard a light tapping against her closed door, as she got back to work. And Cybershock looked up with an interested, curious and surprised look on her face-plate, when her creator stepped slowly into her room. He'd been more cautious when he came in lately, respectful of her own space, she knew. And she respected him for it. It was the very same with her carrier.
"Too loud?" Cybershock asked, gesturing toward her music player,and realizing for the first time just how high the volume was. She knew that neither her creator nor her carrier shared her taste in music, even if they didn't mind at all that she listened to whatever she happened to enjoy.
"Not with your door shut." Her creator just smiled for a second, stepping closer to her work desk.
"Daddy, what did I get wrong?" Cybershock shoved her data pad of typed code into his hands, before she muted her music to let him think. "I... I know this is full of mistakes, but I'm not sure how to fix them!"
Her creator looked over the pad for a moment. And then he looked again, before he shook his head a little, and looked up confused and helpless. In a tone of defeat he muttered, "I'm sure sure I'm the bot to ask."
"But, you're smart, Daddy," Cybershock protested, looking up at him from her seat on her desk chair. She knew by then, in the back of her mind, that her creator – or her carrier for that matter – certainly didn't know everything. Of course she knew that. But still, she wanted to believe he did anyway, because it still made her smile to believe it.
"I'm a medic, my girl," her creator said. His look of one of slight amusement. "Not a formal linguist. Ask your carrier? She's better at such things."
"Okay," Cybershock answered with a slight sigh. And she started to get up, reaching for her pad. But her creator set it down on the work desk instead.
"Ask her later on," he said, smiling again. And for a moment he looked oddly uncertain. "There's... someone here to talk to you."
"Really?" Cybershock questioned, in surprise.
She hadn't heard the door buzzer, or either one of her parents talking with anyone, over the music she'd been listening to. And she wondered who it was. Not Hotwire or Switchgear. Her creator's uncertain look told her right away it couldn't be them, because all three younglings sometimes almost all lived at each other's apartments. And none of their two and a half sets of parents batting an optic at one another's younglings dropping in. Hotwire would likely have walked right on in with only one quick knock of the apartment door, and probably raided the energon dispenser, if he'd come over to hang out for a while. And Switch' would have knocked politely and waited to be let in, but then hugged Cybershock's parents like they were her own, and walked straight down the hall.
Cybershock followed her creator out of her recharge room, and out to the door of their apartment. Where she blinked once in surprise at finding Speedtrap, standing just inside the doorway. He nibbled, clearly nervous, on a little energon cake her carrier had obviously offered him from the batch she'd made that morning, and stood chatting so awkwardly with her that he barely talked at all, while he glanced around the apartment.
"Hi, Cybershock," the blue youngling said – the first time she'd even heard him call her by her name instead of 'Cyber-dweeb' or so much worse.
"Hi, Speedtrap," Cybershock replied, because she was unsure what else to say or do. She hurried toward her carrier for a second, grabbed a cake from the plate now on the counter behind her, and gestured uncertainly toward her recharge room down the hall.
"My creator said you wanted to talk to me," she said uncertainly, when she'd reached her room with Speedtrap close behind her. She sat down in her desk chair again, choosing to leave her door wide open, and sure that either one of her parents was listening closely for any sign of trouble from the blue painted bully.
Speedtrap just nodded silently. He looked around her room instantly, clearly impressed as he stared for a good moment at the black and white checker printed flags that hung, one on either side of the wall above her recharge station. Cybershock may have outgrown so much of her old youngling room. And it had been changed little by little over the years. But she'd always had those flags, and could not imagine ever not having them hanging exactly where they'd always hung. They perfectly matched her old checkered recharging cover, that now lay folded across the bottom of the recharge station, over the plain white one, and served as something to cover up in while she sat watching data discs.
"Your creator said I could come in..." Speedtrap said, his tone still hesitant. And he stood standing in the middle of the room, looking uneasy. "He... he's actually pretty cool. He's funny. And... he's obviously smart."
"Yeah..." Cybershock said, smiling a little as she agreed. She gestured toward her recharging station, inviting her visitor to sit down on it. And he did, clearly still uncertain and uneasy.
"I'm... sorry I called your creator a drunk," Speedtrap said, surprising Cybershock with his apology. That was the very last thing she ever thought he'd say to her. "I... I guess that was a pretty dumb thing to assume. Last night I talked to Takedown, from our racing league. I told him what I said, 'cause I still thought it was funny - and he got mad at me... said your creator's worked with his little brother, Turbo since they got here... He said your creator ran the youngling ward while still only partly functional, and just doing the best he could."
"Apology accepted," Cybershock answered slowly. And she smiled a little, surprised when he smiled back, even it was just a hint of one.
"Is... he okay now?" Speedtrap asked hesitantly. He glanced around the room again. "Your... your creator I mean. He's not going to crash again any day and offline is he?"
That question, coming from a bot like Speedtrap, might have been almost offensive just a day before. It would have sounded exactly like more harsh bullying. And Cybershock know he might have asked such a thing with a mocking laugh, just to make her cry so that he could then laugh at her for crying again. But it seemed different now. His tone was truly concerned, if though he truly wanted to know and hoped that what he'd asked about not the case at all.
"Yeah, he's okay now," Cybershock said, smiling a little with confidence as she explained. "It's been a very long time and he's been perfectly fine."
"I shouldn't have said he's better off dead either," Speedtrap continued, his voice uneasy again. "I know that's a terrible thing to say about any bot. And it doesn't matter that he was damaged, or that he used to be a 'con. He's still just your creator to you."
"You surely would not have liked it any more then I did, if I'd said yours is better off dead," Cybershock answered. And she supposed, only after she'd said so, that she'd done it only to drive home a point... since he had of course already admitted to knowing he'd been wrong.
The second she'd finished speaking though, her spark dropped, because Speedtrap was looking down at her recharge room floor. He did look up again, for a second, but then he looked down quickly, and almost before she could spot the tears in the corners of his optics.
"My... my creator is dead..." he said slowly. And his voice shook with his sudden tears of coolant, though it was obvious he was trying to hide that too.
"I... I'm... sorry," Cybershock said, understanding at once that it was her turn apologize now and mean it.
She would never had felt the need to make her point if she'd known that Speedtrap had no creator of his own. But how could she possibly have known that. She didn't know anything about him. And - she realized then, to her sudden sad understanding few, if any, of the other younglings she knew really did ether. She started to stand up from her work desk, unsure exactly what to do or say next. But the blue youngling started speaking again.
"He died in the war before I ever got to know him. And all I've got is couple photo-files from my carrier. He... was blue like me. I look just like him... and I hear he was fast. Not fast enough though to dodge that thrown grenade. The field medic's report says it would have been fast, according to my carrier... that he may not have known a thing before his spark chamber was blown apart, so that's something I guess..."
"And you hate the fact sometimes that a former 'Con lives, while an Autobot died?" Cybershock guessed, understanding life in a way she never had before. It made her even sadder, and she didn't like the feeling. It made her more sad still when Speedtrap slowly nodded, clearly understanding it all for himself then.
"Bots off lined on both sides," Speedtrap said slowly, considering. "I know it's not personal... but..."
"My carrier and creator both like to remind me that it's our generation who will get to do better," Cybershock explained. "I... like to believe they are both right. That we can have a world of peace now, and there's no reason to be starting wars with each other..."
"I hope they're right, Cybershock," Speedtrap said, looking up again. His face-plate was streaked now with fallen tears. And he sighed, sadly. "... that I don't even need to join a faction to fight for and kill some little bot's creator because he wanted something different than I did once."
The blue youngling at silently for a moment on Cybershock's recharge station. And for a short while, he just stared down at the floor again, before he said more.
"Your creator loves you more than anything. Anyone can see that from a mile away. I bet you can talk to him about anything and he'd listen... he cheers you on so loudly at the racetrack, even if his own racing days are really over. He's great at being a creator... So is Hotwire's... and Takedown's... and everyone else's. And... I'll never know what mine would have been like. In my mind though he would have been a bot like yours... He would have laughed at the silly things I did. And he would have said 'good job' even if I came in last... He would have defended me if any one picked on me like I did you. That little talking too I got from your creator that day the track... and the one I got from him today when I came over here... I like to think mine would have done the same thing to some other youngling who deserved it."
"Do you have a carrier?" Cybershock asked. It might have been a silly question in a way. But she didn't know enough about him to know for sure. And she had no idea even where Speedtrap lived. His brother lived above her family, and he always had. Sideswipe and his noisy parties were a constant complaint for both of her parents for as long as she could remember. But she had no idea if Speedtrap lived there too. And she'd never even thought to wonder before.
"Of course I have a carrier." Speedtrap laughed a little, like something was truly funny... like the answer to Cybershock's question should have been obvious. He glanced around the room again, and shrugged slightly. "She's a good bot, too. Working hard to start over since we landed here. And she still looks so sad sometimes... I guess because she lost her bondmate. But she loves me, and she tells me that every day before she goes to work."
Cybershock just smiled for a moment at that. She couldn't think of anything to say.
"How's... your leg?" Speedtrap asked, after both of them as been silent for another moment. He looked down at her leg – the one that was damaged when he'd shoved her – still underneath fer work desk.
"Better," Cybershock answered slowly Shrugging a little. It was been a couple of days already. And it still hurt more then she would have liked or admitted to. And it still bore the look of new welding – which she disliked even more. Still, it was getting better. "I can walk on it fine, so that's something. I... haven't tried racing yet. But I think I'll be able to fine."
"I... I'm sorry I shoved you, and caused that. I... I didn't mean for you to fall. I didn't know you would. I just... I get so mad sometimes."
"Me too. That's... why I shoved you. That's why I called you sparkless. I don't think you are now really."
"I hope you can race tomorrow," Speedtrap said. He was grinning now, even though the coolant tears he'd cried not long before still showed on his face-plate. "You're fun to race against because you make it hard to beat you. You might have won last time if I hadn't cheated..."
Cybershock smiled brightly for a moment before she yanked over the drawer of her work desk, and pulled out a small data pad, she'd filled in the last year or two with photo-files. She searched it quickly, until the found the one she was looking for – an image of her creator before, before she existed and before her parents were even close to being mates. He sat parked in his vehicle mode on the racetrack, both younglings knew well. But the track was new then – the pavement just finished. And piles of metal chucks and dust stood in crumbling piles at the sides. He sat behind the finish line, having just won, and thus stopped driving, while both Bumblebee and Smokescreen rushed in for second and third place behind him. She showed the photo-file to Speedtrap. And she watched him grin, surprised and impressed at once.
"I guess you've really got something to live up to," the blue youngling said slowly, appearing to think for a second. "Your creator really was a racer once. And he beat Smokescreen too! That bot's a big shot in the master's league now!"
"Soundwave?" Firestorm asked slowly. She sat on their apartment patio, exactly where he'd put her – in a comfortable and padded chair that looked out over the railing and the road far below. She kept her feet up to, propped on a padded foot rest - just as he ordered her to with his serious intent and warning look, when she even thought of moving to rest them flat on the ground. "Do you really think the newspark is a girl? You've always called it 'she.'"
Laserbeak sat perched the arm of Firestorm's chair – quite unsurprising because she'd been oddly attached to the little white and yellow bot since returning to the apartment, And Firestorm idly patted the edges of the little bird's wing tips – which Laserbeak happily extended to clearly encourage more such affection. And that made Firestorm laugh a little at her silliness.
"I don't know," Soundwave answered slowly. He stood looking out over the roadway. But he turned again, smiling at her when she spoke to him. "I suppose I needed something to call it, and so I just chose 'she'." He sat down at the edge of a second chair, his favoured one, and smiled brighter. "How about you Firestorm? Do you think it's a boy? You've always said 'he'."
"I have no idea either," Firestorm answered, laughing a little now. "I've always just needed something to call it too... though obviously one of us is right, and one of us is wrong."
"You don't want to find out? Ratchet could probably tell us easily enough at your next check in," Soundwave suggested causally.
"Soundwave! No!" Firestorm exclaimed. She laughed even as she cast him a mock glare, and shook her head hard. "What would be the fun in that. I want to be surprised... like Speedbreaker always is with every one of hers. I... I want to let bots guess. Let someone start a poll soon and see who got it right."
"Alright," Soundwave smiled. It really was all the same to him... though he could admit there was something intriguing somehow in not finding out ahead of time.
Firestorm moved, suddenly far more restless, in her chair. She shifted ad wiggled in her seat, much to Laserbeak's squeaking displeasure. And again her feet moved to touch the patio floor. Soundwave glared in her direction, with his head shaking lightly, and seriousness in his optics.
"Stay put," he ordered her gently, smiling assurance as he did.
"I... need my afternoon fuel and additives," the little white and yellow bot protested stubbornly. And she certainly did need them then. She'd been consuming fuel with said additives every few hours, on strict medical advice – whether she happened to want any then or not.
"I will get it for you and bring it out here," Soundwave said firmly. And he glared at her with compassion in his optics as he got up to go inside the apartment. "Stay. Right. There."
He disappeared inside. He was gone only long enough to fill a container from the energon dispenser, before he returned, shaking the container to mix in additives from the pre-mixed packet he must have dumped in while he hurried back across the apartment.
Firestorm took the fuel from him with a grateful smile. And she sipped it slowly, while she looked out over the railing again.
"I feel so entirely... useless," she complained, a second later however. And the smile slowly faded from her face-plate.
Things had gotten serious for her and quickly. And in just the few short day since Soundwave had built the recharge station to surprise her, Ratchet had ordered her onto light resting status over significant worry for the newspark and it's still so rapidly growing frame inside her tiny body. She had only gotten out to sit on the patio because Soundwave had picked her up – quite cheerfully and grinning – to carry her out there despite her loud protests that she could of course still walk just fine, and was certainly allowed to go that far. And that morning she had showered in the wash station, while sitting on the shower bench Knockout had passed on to her from a time before he had relearned to stand up. The paint shop, of course was closed without notice.
Fifty-two days. She reminded herself firmly of the time she had left until the due date of her youngling. And she knew full well she wouldn't carry quite that long. Ratchet had said at the check in during which he'd placed her on rest that they were aiming now for at least forty more days... though a few more would be better if only they could manage to make it. And Firestorm knew already after only two days off her feet almost entirely that another forty or more would quickly become almost unbearable.
She was doing it for the youngling. She reminded herself of that firmly, as she looked out over the street and the city – which she was now all but cut off from, and rested a hand against her spark chamber, a wiry and suddenly anxious smile on her face-plate.
"Ratchet did say she is still as strong as ever," Soundwave said, looking in the direction of her chest panel and obviously indicating the tiny being that grew beneath it. He pulled his own chair closer and sat down on it beside his soon to be mate, with a small smile. "She's just... big."
"Definitely not a youngling mini-bot," Firestorm answered, with dismay. Ratchet had said earlier on that to have carried a mini-bot would have been ideal for a few good reasons. But things were not always ideal. And at least the youngling was healthy and still had a chance just as good as any.
"I'd hoped for a mini-bot youngling," Soundwave said. And Firestorm looked up at him again, just a bit surprised at that.
"Really?" she asked.
"I certainly did," he said back, smiling brighter. "Easier for you to carry of course... but it's even more than that. I would have loved to have a child that would grow up just like you... with a personality three... maybe four times her size."
"I hope the youngling looks like you," Firestorm said. And Soundwave laughed a little, his head shaking at once in her direction.
"No," he said. "I hope the youngling looks just like you. Less... shockingly intimidating than I know I've always been. And far more lovely and adorable instead."
"You aren't shockingly intimidating. You are... perfect and beautiful."
"Says you, Firestorm... you've always said so, but you'll still always be the only bot that ever has."
"What about Shortwave?" Firestorm asked, smartly. And she looked up at him with a smirk across her face-plate. Soundwave only shook his head a little, laughing silently and mildly amused.
"Shortwave is my carrier," he said, his head still shaking. "A carrier will say her youngling is perfect and beautiful if he has four arms and the face-plate of a predicon..."
Firestorm wasn't sure exactly what was so funny about anything Soundwave had just said. But something in the tone in which he'd said it make her burst, without any warning at all, into loud giggling laughter. And after a good moment of laughing harder than she had in the time since he'd been back, she looked up though her now coolant clouded optics to see him laughing just as hard as she was.
"You've got to go back to work tomorrow," Firestorm said, looking at Soundwave with serious optics when the pair had finally stopped laughing. I know you're still working a case. And you can't miss your patrol shift again."
The bot who had once wanted nothing to do with the thought of a youngling, had been home for the past few days already, caring intently for his carrying nearly-mate. And Firestorm dreaded the long and endless hours the next day when she would be alone in the apartment, not medically permitted to do much except sit watching data discs or reading pads, or lay down and nap. She decided a visitor might just be nice – someone to sit with a while and drink flavoured energon mixed - in her case - with her already dreaded additives. But Arcee and Speedbreaker both lived clear across the little city. And Shortwave, along with her pair of younglings, had been housed in an apartment a few floors below Speedy's. For the first time ever in the time she'd lived in her much loved post-war building, Firestorm wished she lived a little closer to most other housing.
"I have arranged to take further time off from duty," Soundwave said, smiling. "When... or if... I must return to work before the arrival of our youngling, we can surely make arrangements with friends to help you at home. And Laserbeak will stay here with you." He chuckled for a moment at the bird, now pressed against Firestorm's small body, and whirring contently. "I... can't imagine she has any objection to that."
Firestorm sighed with relief, in spite of how suddenly weak she felt for needing him to stay to help her as much as she did. And the way he referred to their youngling, said with a brand new tone of anxious excitement made her smile at him again with her joy.
"You really do want him now..." she observed. And it really was far more observation than question. She rested a hand against her spark chamber as she usually did when referring to the newspark. And she saw him smile right back at her.
"Yes, I do," Soundwave answered back. He leaned forward in his chair. And for a moment he was silent and with an intent and thoughtful look on his face-plate. Eventually he slowly spoke again, while obviously considering his words. "I... think I must want our youngling just as much as you always did by now. Truthfully the idea of it is still so..." he paused again. And Firestorm knew him more then enough to know he was searching for a word that had managed to escape him, as they still did once in a very small while.
"Terrifying..." he said a moment later, and having found the word he'd lost. "And... even that is understated. I... I still fear I won't be a very good creator. That I've never learned enough of such skills well enough to have any business even thinking of trying. I don't dislike youngling. I believe you know that well by now. I just... could never have imagined subjecting one to life raised by a broken bot like me..."
"You are not a broken bot, Soundwave..." Firestorm began to say, interrupting him. But she knew he wasn't finished. And almost sheepishly, she stopped talking again to listen while he continued on.
"I could not face having one, because I could not live with the idea that I might ruin a poor tiny bot's little life in my... deficiencies. And... when she happened without us trying, I felt for a moment she would be better off if she never lived to know me and to suffer for the life I've lived." Soundwave paused again, to take one of Firestorm's small hands in his, while his other one rested over her spark chamber. "I can't say that no longer matters. It does. It's... important. But it matters less than waiting to meet her. Less than wanting to hold her and to see what she looks like... or doing the best I can, and telling her I'm sorry if I ever need to say so."
"Hi, Daddy," Cybershock said, smiling cheerfully from her place sitting on the sofa, when Knockout walked into his family's apartment. She swung her legs – still a bit too short to touch the floor when she sat all the way back on the large beige sofa – playfully forwards and back. And the data pad she'd been reading from when he'd walked in rested on her knees.
"Hello, my girl," Knockout answered, grinning back at the youngling.
"Catch!" he exclaimed just a second later, after he'd reached into his storage compartment, to retrieve a little bag of sweets he'd bright home to surprise her with just because he could. And he tossed the bag toward her waiting hand, before she'd even fully managed to raise it in her puzzlement.
"Sweets!" the little bot cried, happily, once she'd caught the little bag. And she opened it at once, digging though it with her finger tips. Her grin grew brighter when she found they were the flavor she liked best. "Aluminum ones!"
"Heads up!" the youngling said, tossing the bad of sweets casually toward her creator – who still stood across the living room from her – once she had taken one to immediately munch on, and two more to stash inside her own compartment.
Cybershock had been tossing objects – though usually things considerably bigger and easier to catch – to her creator since her years of helping him in rehab practice, playing 'catch with him' because to her, it was almost though not quite simply a game. And Knockout smiled fondly at the memories of that – though he knew it may well have saddened some bots – as he caught the bag while fumbling a little.
"Thanks," he grinned, taking a sweet for himself. He looked around for his bondmate, saw no sign of her, and turned back to his youngling. "Where is your carrier?"
"Napping." Cybershock shrugged a little. "She's been tired all day... so I promised to be quiet and leave her to recharge for a while."
"Hmm..." Knockout muttered understanding. And he nodded at her answer. He decided quickly he would leave Arcee to rest a while longer since she must have needed it. But he noted that she had been tired for at least a couple days already, and decided make a simple mental note and leave it at that.
The youngling just looked up at him, obvious expecting him to say something more. And when he didn't she questioned him instead. "How was your duty shift today?"
"It was..." Knockout sighed, stepping closer to his daughter, who looked at him curiously and interested. "It's been a day. I wasn't on the youngling ward much today because I was called to help with a serious emergency instead."
"What happened?"
Knockout wasn't going to say anything more about his work. He shuddered inwardly just a little, as he recalled the details. And he certainly didn't want to leave his small daughter disturbed. But she had always been carious to hear about his work and his cases in whatever vague details he could share without naming any names.
"A couple of young bots..." he said slowly. "Adults I think... though they might have still be forth-frame younglings... they ran into some buried explosives left over from the war while goofing around outside the city. One of them knocked himself out good after he a good ways and landed on his head. And they other one... he blew a leg off."
"Are they both still alive?" Cybershock asked. She looked hopeful, but calm and understanding, if not sad.
"Yes," Knockout answered. "And they will certainly both live to be fine."
"Then you did your job," Cybershock said, smiling. Knockout smiled too, at that.
"Have you fuelled yet?" he asked the youngling. And she nodded
"What are you reading?" he asked her next, curious as he sat beside her on the sofa.
He took the pad carefully from where it rested on his child's knees. And he blinked in dismay when he discovered what it was that she'd found. Finding such pads was not exactly difficult. There were out and stored on a shelf just across the living room, among a collection of various reading material. But still he was no less surprised.
"A... medical textbook?" he questioned the little bot. Smiling with amusement despite his dismay. He handed back the datapad to her. There was certainly no harm in it exactly.
"Just the basics, Daddy," Cybershock said smiling back at him again. Her bright blue optics looked up into his red ones. And suddenly her face-plate showed her excitement. "Just some bot anatomy. It's... so amazing. We have so many parts!"
"That we do, my girl" Knockout answered. And since his child was clearly interested, even if possibly only in passing he continued on, grinning. "Just a Cybertronian grounder intake system alone has..."
"Fourteen parts!" Cybershock interrupted. She bounced a little in her seated position on the sofa, clearly excited to talk about such a topic. "One fan base... four blades. There's the main hose and the output line. A spinner mechanism... and..." she stopped talking then, clearly unable to remember everything exactly. But she was positively grinning anyway.
"Cybershock, how long have you been studying my reference texts?"
"Since the day after I got hurt, and I watched you fix me." The youngling still looked up at her creator. Her passion for a subject, and her genuine interest obvious.
"I never knew what I wanted to be when I grow up," she said slowly. Her optics showed the same trust they had always showed, of a youngling who knew she could tell either one of her parents anything and trust that they would hear her out and listen to her. "Hotwire's known he's going to be police-bot since we were little and playing police-bots and robbers on the playground. And Switch' isn't sure but she does have a good idea. But I never knew, and now I think I do. I know I have a long time to decide. And I guess I could change my mind. But I think I want to be a medi-bot one day?"
"Really?" Knockout questioned. He forced his tone into one of neutrality. But inside he was a strange mix of pride, amazement and some manner of dread.
"Do you think I could do it?" Cybershock asked. She wiggled closer and hugged her creator's arm, just like she'd always done since she was tiny and he could barely hug her back. She stared up at him again, now with hopeful and suddenly doubtful optics.
"I... certainly think you could," Knockout answered, because it was the truth. "I think you can be anything you want to be if you want it enough to never stop trying. Never stop doing as much as it takes..."