Arcee had come to enjoy her afternoons at the racetrack more and more. It was wonderful to sit outdoors in the sunshine. And spending time with her little family made her smile, no matter where she spent it. She sat, at present in the front row of the stands beside her bondmate, in the place that everybot knew well by then was 'theirs.' And she tapped him excitedly on the shoulder panel, watching their youngling as she ran her time trial, and at the time clock he held in his hands.
"Her best time yet," she said. And Knockout grinned back at her nodding. His face-plate bore the look of excitement that never seemed to leave it when he was anywhere close to the track, and more intense still when their youngling was on it.
"Looks like she might just be challenging someone to a practice race today," he mused. And Arcee looked up at him, questioning. She had missed the first moments of the younglings racing practice, chatting with Speedbeaker – who was sure she'd gone into early stage spark separation with her fifth youngling – over her commlink, and away from the stands.
"I told those little bots the best time gets to challenge another of their choice to a drag race on the track today," Knockout grinned. "They all love to race one on one, and I figured that would make it all the more fun."
Arcee sat a moment, leaning back on the bench and thinking. She wondered idly who it was Cybershock might choose to challenge. And she had to admit that she just didn't know. Cybershock was a complicated little bot, and her actions weren't always predictable. Hotwire and Switchgear were her best friends. And she may just choose either one to challenge for the fun of it. But neither was half as good as she was. And she could easily beat either. Takedown was a possibility, and he would take the challenge easily. Or... Speedtrap. Arcee chuckled to herself then, suddenly sure her little bot could only choose the one among the little racers who was just as fast as she was. The one who raced just as hard as she did.
She looked around at the gathered group of younglings along with a few of their carriers and creators, scattered through the stands in mostly the first few rows. Many talked quietly to each other, and most smiled cheerfully.
"That youngling looks better and better every time I see him," Arcee said, tapping her bondmate on the shoulder again lightly and pulling his attention toward Turbocharge, who sat with his creator and carrier again, among a handful of his many siblings.
"Indeed he is," Knockout grinned again. "Turbo will be joining the junior league himself after next practice. He still can't walk quite right exactly. But he can drive as fast as any bot out there. And he wants to race with his brothers."
"That's wonderful," Arcee exclaimed. And impulsively she hugged the mate she knew as well as anyone who know them, had given the youngling a promise of a childhood like any other little bot could have.
Knockout smiled brighter still, as he stopped the timer, watching as Cybershock crossed the finish line and hurried away to the edge of the track. She grinned just as brighter as her creator, the second she'd transformed to her bot mode. And she was still smiling bright when she hopped over the fence, and flopped down to sit between her parents, hugging then both –one small wrapped around each.
"Best of the day," Knockout said, standing up carefully after he'd checked and rechecked the times of each racer marked on his datapad. He looked around, addressing the small group of little racers that all looked back at him expectantly and hopeful. "Is... Cybershock."
"Yay!" cheered Hotwire and Switchgear in nearly the very same moment from the bench right behind Arcee and her family. Clearly they both knew full well that neither of them had been close to winning, but they cheered for their friend regardless. Others just looked mostly a little disappointed as they smiled anyway.
"So, who's the racer that's getting challenged by our time trail winner then?" Knockout continued. He grinned brighter then ever with pride at his youngling, an arm thrown over her shoulder happily. But Arcee noticed, the little bot was strange, not even looking around at her fellow youngling racers. She didn't seem to be trying to decide on anyone at all.
"Go on my girl," Knockout said, chuckling a little at her uncharacteristic silence. "Issue your challenge. Anyone of them would love to race you."
"I challenge..." Cybershock said, loudly enough to be heard in the stands while she looked around her. She paused a moment before her blue optics locked on Knockout's red ones. "You!"
"Cybershock..." Arcee mumbled, shocked and dismayed, and shaking her head a little in near horrified disbelief. She sat still for a moment, wondering exactly how to feel, before she decided she wasn't actually angry or even annoyed at their little bot. Cybershock, she knew had done exactly what anyone should have expected she might.
"You can't challenge your..." Arcee began to explain, still dismayed as she looked the youngling in the optics.
But Knockout was handling it already. He sat down slowly, and gently pulled Cybershock down to sit beside him, where he quickly hugged her tight against his frame.
"My girl..." he said slowly, with the hesitation of a bot who clearly didn't know exactly what to say to her. "You know my racing days are done."
"I know," Cybershock answered quickly. And for a second, Arcee thought with relief that would be the end of it. But the youngling's optics opened wider, filled with hope and determination, as she raised her head from her creator's shoulder to look him in the optics again.
"I don't want to believe your racing days are really over," she said firmly. "And... I don't think you want to either." her little blue optics, quite unexpectedly filled with coolant. And she just sat for a moment, looking up at him and crying a little, before she slowly spoke again, her small voice shaky with her motion now.
"I've never seen you race," she said. "But... I have that picture in my photofiles... you on the racetrack before you got sick and before I was born. You looked so happy then, Daddy... like... like you were doing what you really loved. And I... I've always wanted to race against you just once, ever since I saw that you could... you could drive again..."
"Oh, my girl," Knockout said, pulling the now crying hard youngling against his frame again, hugging her tightly and frowning with his own obvious despair. "I didn't know you thought so much about this. I didn't know it meant this much to you."
"Of course it does, Daddy," Cybershock answered. Her voice shook so hard now from her tears, and this time she didn't move to look up at him at all, clearly content instead to stay tight again him and just be hugged tightly, while she cried even harder. "What kind of terrible selfish youngling would I be if... if I didn't notice the sad look on your face-plate every... every time you say your racing days are... are over?"
"Knockout," Arcee said, quickly understanding the little bot and her determination entirely. She leaned over to rest a hand on her mate's shoulder panel, while her other arm hugged their youngling for a moment. She looked into his red, suddenly so saddened optics, and smiled a little, over the little bot's head. "What do you say you give this a try... for her."
"I'm a little Smart-car, Daddy," Cybershock said, through tears and still not looking up. But her voice was pleading, still holding out hope. "You're an Aston Martin. I'm a bot you could easily beat..."
"Do it, Knockout!" someone cheered loudly from behind them. Hotwire, Arcee realized quickly, looking his way. And Switchgear was quick to clap her hands together, grinning along with him.
"We wanna see you race!" Turbocharge cheered from his place a short ways away. He exchanged grins with a few of his family, who were clearly encouraging him on in his cheering. "Like you said I could do!"
"Go for it!" another youngling yelled from somewhere just a little higher up. That was Speedtrap, Arcee noticed with surprise. And she smiled when she saw him grinning with the others.
"My racing days died with my processor," Knockout muttered, his optics looking down at the ground.
He held the youngling in his arms just a little tighter though, just as if that could somehow make a difference. And Cybershock, who had stopped crying to listen to the cheers of her track mates, started up again and hard as ever – her poor spark so clearly near broken at her creator giving up before he'd ever tried. Arcee gave her bondmate a glaring and serious look, but he only shook his head, the sad look never leaving his face-plate as he looked toward the track.
'Knockout!' Arcee said, speaking silently then through their shared spark connection. But even in her telepathic speech, her sudden disapproval and complete disbelief showed through, and she knew it. With one hand barely moving, she gestured discretely toward the youngling, her arms thrown around him, and still crying hard into his armour. 'Take a second to really look at her.'
'I didn't mean to make her so upset,' Knockout mumbled back, as silently as her. His tone was remorseful. 'But I'll never be any good on the track now. I can barely drive faster than she can... and not always entirely straight even...'
'You think she cares?' Arcee countered. She was growing upset at his sudden stubbornness. And watching their very upset, near spark broken child only made her more so. She glared at her mate harder then she ever had before.
"Cybershock," Knockout said slowly, to the youngling in his arms. The little bot finally looked up at him again, tear stains on her face-plate, and a look somewhere near embarrassment in her optics over crying so hard at the racetrack. But she clearly couldn't help it either. "You know my driving skills are nothing like they were before... That bot in that photo you clearly love... he's long gone now."
"That... never stopped me from wanting to race with you anyway..." Cybershock said, her voice quiet and serious.
Knockout just shook his head a little at that. And for a long moment, Arcee sat still on the bench sure he might just chance his mind and hoping he would. But she saw him slowly shake his head again, while he looked down instantly, with a firm but regretful expression, at the youngling he still held in his arms.
"You understand, I just can't race with you, right?" he asked her, his voice sad.
And Arcee watched as Cybershock nodded, hesitant but calm. She lifted her head from her creator's chest panel, and smiled a little.
"I understand, Daddy," she said. And she looked up into the stands for a good long moment, clearly deciding who she might challenge instead.
Still, the spark-break was no less clear on her face-plate. And Arcee meant for a moment to glare at her bond-mate, with her rare feeling of near rage at him, until the remorse she saw, clear as day made her change her mind.
Shortwave, sitting in the small comfortable living room of Firestorm and Soundwave's small apartment, smiled at the little white and yellow bot who sat beside her on the soft red sofa.
"How have been been feeling lately?" she asked. And she wasn't all that surprised, when Firestorm shook her head a little in response.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't bored half way into recharge most days," the mini-bot said. And she sighed, leaning back against the cushions of her sofa, before her optics wandered to the doors of her patio – which Shortwave had opened to air the apartment out for her awhile.
"It's a perfect day out there," she muttered, her complete unease and restlessness more then obvious. And Shortwave frowned, recalled how Soundwave had told her once recently, that even suffering the worst effects of her processor damage and barely able to walk without use of a walking frame, she was so rarely not doing something, or trying hard to get somewhere.
Resting as much as she was medically required to, allowed to walk only the length of her apartment hallway before sitting again, and even then only if she absolutely needed to – sitting home watching the window as life in the city went on without her – that had to be so hard for a bot as young and always on the move as little Firestorm was. Shortwave could imagine that without needing to be told.
"Let's go sit out your patio for a bit," the older bot suggested with a smile. And she held out a hand to help Firestorm to her feet, before moving to push Lightwave - who'd recharged in her chair since they'd arrived – outside with them. "It's not many steps out there. We're well within your limits." She smiled brighter and with relief, when the white and yellow bot smiled happily at the suggestion.
"I do like it out here so much better then inside," Firestorm said, sitting obediently down in the chair that had clearly been left close to the doors, just for her. She rested a hand for a moment over her middle – which surely had expanded already to near the limit of what any bot's metal body, with its hard painted armour, could do – and watched as Shortwave parked Light' with some thought about it, her back to the railing and in the far corner, to avoid blocking the door that lead back inside.
"She... recharges a lot," the mini-bot said after a moment, watching little Lightwave as she napped on, undisturbed as ever, in the sunshine. The damaged youngling did seem to be sleeping more then half the time Firestorm saw her.
"She does," Shortwave answered, matter of fact, but still slightly regretful at the very same time. "Just being awake for a while seems to tire her out again quickly." She looked at Firestorm and her large mid section.
"You are... sure there's only one in there?"she asked, only half joking.
"I'm very sure," Firestorm answered with a chuckle of laughter and a shake of her head. "And anyway, two would never fit!"
"I'm still just as overjoyed as ever just to know that Soundwave is going to be a creator. And with a bot as wonderful and absolutely perfect for him as you are, for the carrier," Shortwave told her, meaning it and smiling. She reached out and lightly rested her own hand on her son's nearly-mate's middle, and laughing a little, adding, "whether there's one on the way or four of them."
"Four?" Firestorm exclaimed, suddenly horrified at the mere thought. She knew that Shortwave had been joking of course. But she shuddered a little anyway, wondering if it was actually possible for a bot to find themselves carrying that many at a time. Two was the most she'd heard of, but that was far from uncommon.
"Soundwave told me you slapped him one day," she mused. And almost immediately, she burst into laughter without knowing exactly what was so funny about that exactly.
"Indeed I did," Shortwave replied with barely a pause. And she was quickly laughing too in spite of the suddenly half serious look on her face-plate. "He's my youngling, no matter how long he's lived. And he had better believe I'd let him have it good for deciding to run off on the love of his life! Sure he may have found someone else eventually. It is a changing and fast growing world out there. But he'd never ever find another you, Firestorm. And I've truly come to believe you're a one of a kind special sort of bot."
"Well it certainly means everything that you chased him back to me," Firestorm replied, grinning and grateful. "He's been so happy since he's been home."
"Soundwave never did have a good life, Firestorm," Shortwave said, her tone entirely serious now as she looked her in the optics. "You know that of course. I may have been far too young then to have been a carrier at all. And I was. But I loved him more then anything in life, and I tried so hard to make his life as close to amazing as I could. Those early years were something close to good once in a while... and those are the times he talks to me about so much now. But still his life was never wonderful. And he's suffered far more than even I'll ever really understand. His life here with you... a bot who's loved him from the day she first saw him... this little apartment to live and be like anybot... this the is the first time he's known what it means to be happy. And... I know he left you once, because he didn't understand that he was good enough for what he had."
"I tried to save him once," Firestorm said slowly, reflecting. "I knew how the war for Cybertron had almost ruined him along with so many others. And... I figured maybe if I just loved him enough..." she shook her head a little. "I was young and silly. And I finally understood one day years ago, he doesn't need saving. No one does. He just needs me to be his best friend, and understand that sometimes things happen."
"You're a smart young bot," Shortwave said, smiling a second before that smile turned to a grin. "So... how is that grand creation of mine?"
"He's... good," Firestorm answered. And she thought for a second to the sure she had everything right. "He'll be early. That's pretty well a given now. But he's big... and he's healthy. Ratchet says if we can just go ten more days, the youngling should be just fine if he's born anytime..."
"You need to start a countdown then," Shortwave said, still smiling. "That will give you motivation... besides it might be fun."
"Soundwave's started one already." Firestorm said, laughing as she pointed back inside, and toward a little screen he'd hung on the wall near the sofa and linked remotely to his computer console. It currently displayed a bright 'Ten days' in blue Cybertronian code, complete with a somewhat goofy digital icon clearly meant to represent a bot baby kicking it's legs and waving its arms, below it.
"He started at twelve..." Firestorm explained. Laughing because now Shortwave had started to laugh. "The day we got that news. He updates the number every morning... and if you watch for a bit you'll see the baby icon nap for a while..."
"Soundwave is just as excited as you are by now," Shortwave remarked, laughing louder and grinning. Surprise and relief showed easily in her laughter, and Firestorm just nodded, amused.
"He built the little recharging basket," she said. "And bought him twice as many washing rags and towels as we'll ever need from the market... plus two sets of bedding and too many blankets." She laughed again, grinning. "He's started a poll among the Autobots too, promising bragging rights to the bot to guess correct on the gender and come closest on paint colour."
"Well, I want in on that," Shortwave exclaimed, close to shocked at hearing of it for only the first time then. She paused for a second to consider and then said slowly, "tell him to put me down for boy youngling... Dark blue paint."
"You think he'll be blue?" Firestorm asked, smiling at the thought. She knew most bots had guessed the little bot would be almost entirely her own pale yellow instead.
"I'm confidant," Shortwave answered, smiling her confidence.
"You can probably give your guess to Soundwave yourself," Firestorm told her, thinking. "He just hurried into work for a bit to pick up some case files to work on at home, and to talk with Ultra Magnus. He'll be home any time. Oh... and he's stopping at the sweet shop because I told him this morning I was craving iron jellies. I told him he didn't need to bring me any, but..."
"But he will, because he loves you more than enough to want to make you smile," Shortwave said firmly. And she smiled a little for a second, before her look suddenly turned momentarily just a little sad. "I'm thankfully every day now to know that youngling of mine found the bot whose spark was so clearly meant for him. We don't all find ours. I never found mine... though I suppose a world divided for centuries into warring factions, would make that far more difficult..."
"What about Blast' and Light's creator?" Firestorm dared to ask. And Shortwave just chuckled back, shaking her head just a little.
"He was a good bot," she said, smiling again as she remembered him so clearly. "A great bot in fact. He was wonderful... amazing. He made me laugh so hard I often cried, and we had the most amazing conversations. And... if I dare say so, the interfacing was certainly never boring either. And we did of course create two wonderful young bots together. He was the best creator ever to Blastwave. And though he barely lived to know Lightwave at all, I know he would have loved her just as if she'd been like any other child."
Shortwave paused then, again in her musing, and sighed before she slowly spoke again. "I did truly love him... Flightpath, his name was. And I don't doubt for a second he loved me. But it was the love of a couple of bots who had everything in common and shared a couple of younglings together. The love of a pair that had both been content to settle for something comfortable and convenient."
"Well... it's certainly not too late to find that true love you missed, now!"
"I'm... not exactly looking for it Firestorm."
"I know. But maybe you should be... any bot could love you. And Blast' and Light' too."
"Oh Firestorm," Shortwave muttered, shaking her head again, looking out idly over the patio railing. She laughed just a little. "I fear you really have been cooped up in her for too long. You have too much time to daydream."
"Why?" Firestorm asked, doubtful.
"I'm an old bot already. Not ancient by any means of course. But not young either. And my family is just so complicated. I come as a package deal, and that will never change... I wouldn't dream of wanting it to..."
"What about... Ratchet!" The words had left Firestorm's mouth the very instant she'd thought about it. And she only giggled with amusement when Shortwave stared blankly in her direction.
"The head of the hospital's medbay?" She questioned, only after she'd sat blinking in disbelief for several long moments.
"Firestorm," she continued on a moment later, her head still shaking with her dismay. "Ratchet is a war hero... a leader of a team. A trusted high ranked, educated bot who's done so much good for the world he loves. Why in the world would he want a thing to do with some nobody like me? Besides, what makes you think I have a thing in common with some medical genius, of any bot on Cybertron?"
"What makes you think you don't?" Firestorm countered, grinning like a youngling just the way she was so good at doing. And Shortwave shook her head again, laughing.
She might have spoken again in another moment or two. May well have told Firestorm that she was surely being silly and both of them knew it. But Lightwave had woken up strapped tightly into her chair. Her little optics were open when she looked in her direction. And as always, Shortwave wanted to hold the youngling on her lap instead of leaving in strapped in for no reason. So she stood up quickly to unstrap her from the harnesses that held her safely in place and seated upright, and lifted her into her arms before sitting again with the heavy youngling resting calmly against her front panels.
"Hi, Light'," Firestorm grinned the the youngling, who gave a tiny hint of a whir under an intake at the acknowledgement.
"Knockout thinks perhaps Light' can learn to communicate," Shortwave explained suddenly. And she smiled as she did so. "It's not going to anything like us of course... use of a sort of simple picture board perhaps. She'll never speak and we all know that. But... he's convinced she understands so much of what bots say, not just to her but to each other too. He says that if she only had a way to make her needs and even her opinions known..." she stooped speaking for a while to consider. And finally she shook her head, regretful.
"It's sad to think she may well have been far more aware of herself all these years than we could only have assumed, and we talked to her, but never even thought much of trying to talk with her..." she mused sadly. "Her condition is so bad she can't even express anything we would have taken for frustration..." Her expression slowly brightened though, and she mused in a hopeful tone, "Just imagine if one day, with a lot of work and patience of course, Light' really could express herself even a little... tell us all how she feels... what she wants."
"You clearly do your best, and I know you always have," Firestorm said, smiling a little. She reached out to hold one of Lightwave's tiny hands between both of hers. And gently she bent and unbent each small finger joint carefully, exactly like she'd so easily learned to do from Blastwave. "Anybot can see how much you love her. And surely Lightwave knows it too."
"She loves to be acknowledged," Shortwave said, smiling down at her damaged youngling laying on her lap. She watched Firestorm, who went on gently bending and unbending tiny fingers, and nodded approval. "It was Blastwave that insisted she valued the attention of others, long before I even thought a thing about it. He talked to her just like any sibling before I ever even thought to tell him too. From the day he first saw her, he was just so good at relating to her... far better even than I was for the first many years..."
"Blast' goes to school in the youngling centre now?" Firestorm asked, curious about him at once, at the mention of his name. Unlike his sister, he was seldom with his carrier on her frequent visits. And she would have liked to see him a little more often.
"He does..." Shortwave sat a moment quiet and thinking. "I worry about him so much more than I thought I would. He doesn't talk much... not even to me. But he does talk to Lightwave. He'll sit and chat with her for ages... tell her all about his day, his life... the good, the bad, the absolutely terrible... That youngling never has cared less that she'll never say a word. I don't mean to listen in. But I sometimes over hear him talking anyway... I hear him tell her how he spends his fuel breaks alone... how he did the last group project by himself because no one else would work with him... He's lonely. He's sad, and lost on his own home world. And Lightwave is the only bot he really wants to talk to."
"Blast' will be fine," Firestorm said. She smiled and her tone said she only hoped she was truly right in her assurance. "He'll find his way here. Everyone does eventually."
"So, what seems to be the trouble, today?" Ratchet questioned, calm as ever and smiling assurance while he pulled common day to day medical equipment from its place in a cupboard across from the repair table.
And Arcee, sitting on said repair table, legs dangling over the side to hand above the floor, frowned with the embarrassment of most any bot over simple injuries.
"My wrist... my hand..." she mumbled trying to explain when she wasn't quite sure which exactly she'd injured at all while everything ached including her right hand fingers.
"Let's have a look then," Ratchet told her. He lifted her right hand gently up from where she'd left it sitting in her lap, and looked clearly apologetic when she frowned with pain at the motion of it.
"Bend your fingers," he told her. And she tried but she could barely move the first three of them at all.
"Ratchet, I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly. She'd never liked being fussed over much in the least. And just being a patient made her just as uncomfortable as it always did. She'd only gone in at all, because the pain she was in told her it may well have been significant. She frowned with dismay, when the old bot took a second to strap an energon pressure cuff around her left arm, before he reached to quickly start the machine. But she said nothing about it, knowing full well that every patient of Ratchet's got nearly full work-ups on visits, whether they needed it or not. And she most certainly did not need it. "I'm sure this slight nothing at all is waste of your time."
"It certainly isn't nothing, Arcee," Ratchet scolded her at once in a serious tone. "You can barely bend those fingers... you're visibly in pain. And for you we know that's got to be bad." He smiled again with assurance, as he placed her hand down, rested on the work table he'd dragged over on it's wheels. "How did you do this to yourself?"
"I... slipped in my wash station," Arcee explained. She shook her head, more embarrassed then ever, Finally she managed to laugh a little, sure that for Ratchet, who'd spend so much of his career in wartime, her own case was surely almost too uninteresting.
"Came down on that hand to break your fall?" the medic guessed easily. And Arcee, struggling not to wince hard while he gently bent and unbent her fingers before he tired to turn her wrist a little bit, nodded.
"Not that I ever mind you coming to see me of course," Ratchet said, obviously just making conversation as he scanned her joints and digits. "I'm just surprised you didn't simply have Knockout look you over..."
"Knockout isn't home..." Arcee explained. She shook her head then, suddenly feeling truly ridiculous, as she muttered. "I guess I still hope it's really nothing at all, and he'll never even need to know his bondmate was a Bulkhead level clumsy oaf this morning..."
Ratchet just shook his head right back, frowning as he answered. "He'll know you were injured the second he sees you."
"Yeah..." Arcee frowned, still embarrassed and agreeing. She looked up then at the old bot, asking cautiously, "so, what's my damage report look like?"
"You see that data pad there, Arcee?" the old medic said instead of an answer. And Arcee, puzzled but sure it must have been of obvious importance, looked around, and finally spotted the pad he must have meant laying discarded on the top of a cabinet to her left
"That one?" she gestured to it with her optics, and saw the medic nod his head.
"Can you reach it for me?"
"Uhh... sure..." Arcee turned to the left, grabbing for the pad on the cabinet easily with her uninjured hand.
She barely had it in her hand though, and certainly hadn't yet turned back around to hand it off to the old bot, before he yanked hard on her damaged wrist in a fast forward motion. Pain shot through her wiring partway up her arm and nearly reaching her shoulder. And Arcee, gasping once in shock, nearly sent the data pad she still held flying from the cabinet top.
"Wh... what... did you...?" she tried to ask, finally turning to offer him the data pad, which Ratchet quite surprisingly tossed onto his work table clearly unneeded as soon as he'd taken it from her.
"Move your fingers," he ordered her gently with a smile of assurance again, as her sudden stabs of shooting pains subsided again.
She looked up, wide – optic'd with both utter surprise and a flood of great relief when her fingers bent and unbent again easily.
"You had misaligned your wrist joint when you fell onto it," Ratchet explained simply. "This of course in turn pinched some wires to your fingers." He took a second then to rest a hand lightly on her shoulder panel, looking at her with slight concern.
"It was an easy enough fix... though certainly made easier with a little distraction," he assured her, smiling a little. "You alright?"
"Fine... thank you," Arcee answered back smiling herself, because her wrist, though slightly achy, certainly did feel better now.
She moved to get to her feet, and stopped, remembering only then that she was still attached to the energon pressure monitor – which the old bot now had his optics on intently, with her file open in his hand and obviously ready to make a quick note of her readings. She settled back into her seated position, knowing full well there was little sense in arguing even as he reset the machine and seemed to be looking for a second read from it, while he shook his head, uncertainly.
"Ratchet?" she questioned, dismayed when he took a third try at a pressure reading, and this time he frowned over it.
"Your energon pressure is... most definitely running slightly high..." the medi-bot mumbled. He looked serious as he grabbed for his scanner again, this time scanning her full body instead of just her wrist and hand. And he frowned again, his look so clearly uncertain when he reached her chest panels. Slowly though he moved the scanner again, moving down her body before he moved back up, and paused again frowning.
"Arcee..." he said, his voice now so clearly hesitant. "Lay back please."
Arcee complied as easily as she did, only because she trusted Ratchet entirely. And she laughed a little, shaking her head at his strange fretting by now over something that obviously had not a thing to do with her slightly dislocated wrist joint. Still his behaviour made her edgy. And she wrung her hands a little now folded in front of her, looking around the medbay in discomfort from the slightly too hard surface of the repair table.
"I... think I'd best comm Knockout away from the youngling ward," Ratchet muttered, in a serious tone that made Arcee truly nervous then. "Or... perhaps you should do it."
"Why?" she asked him, hiding her anxiety now behind bad humour. "You gonna tell us both together that I've got months to live before I off line from spark disease?"
"Don't even joke about that, Arcee," the medic said serious, as her cast her a look. And Arcee dropped her gaze a little, understand entirely that such sick humour was indeed not exactly funny. And particularly not so in a hospital.
"Then what it is?" she asked. Her unease was grating on her wiring, and she tried to sit up, even as he gently pushed her back down again, resetting his scanner for a second, more detailed scan. She shook her head, insistent and stubborn. "Tell me first. Let me hear this on my own, before we give Knockout a near spark attack in the middle of his fraggin' duty shift, with a call to come and see his bondmate in the medbay..."
"It most certainly is your spark, you're right about that." Ratchet stood, still and serious, before a strange hint of a smile showed on his face-plate. He scanned her again, as she'd known he'd planned to, and his smile grew a little, where she knew a medic should normally have looked concerned. "It is however certainly not spark disease... far from it!" He offered her hand, and when she took it, (using only her good left hand of course) he pulled her back to sitting, with a full on grin now across his face-plate.
"Arcee, you are... carrying."
"What?" Arcee found herself immediately close to gasping for an intake through her shock and disbelief. And when his words finally managed to fully catch up to her, and she'd realized exactly what it was he'd just said, just sat still and nearly frozen, fearing that if she so much as moved she would realize she'd misheard him. "Ratchet... what...?"
"It's still so early on," the medic explained. And Arcee heard him through a haze of something close to static. "If I hadn't checked your pressure and gotten suspicious because of it, you would not have had any reason to even question a thing yet. But I have no doubt you'll show symptoms soon." He paused then, and chuckled a known little chuckling, clearly knowing exactly what she might have asked next if only should could still form words through her shock. He lay a hand gently on her shoulder panel again. "And no, Arcee. You didn't hurt the newspark in the least by falling in your wash station today. The tiny spark is still so very small, it's just barely visible on my scanner. At this early stage it will have only just started to spin perhaps a day or two again. But it's spinning beautifully in there and I would bet it didn't even notice. And Arcee...?"
"Yes?" Arcee stopped her mile a second joyful chattering on, to look again at the old bot – who looked at her, serious again through his smile.
"I don't think I need to ask you this question... though as a medical officer, I'm obligated. You are okay with this situation? I do know of course this youngling is absolutely wanted."
"Yes," Arcee said. A smile broke through her shock by now, and she was certainly she must have stood grinning like a youngling for at least a good moment... before rushing forward to hug the consequently fluttered old medic, and forgetting that fast movements might just make her wrist ache again.. "Yes, I'm okay. Perfectly okay. And yes, absolutely wanted more than anything! Thank you! Thank you!"
She slid down from the repair table then, to stand of the floor on shaking knee joints. And for several moments she just stood there shocked and overjoyed, and terrified to believe the news was really true at all. Finally, she raised a hand to rest over her spark chamber, in a still futile attempt to sense the child inside of it, still to small to put out all but the faintest of energy signatures.
"You... you've got to comm Knockout..." she managed to mutter after another moment more. But she stopped speaking at once, because the door to the medbay slid open in the very second, to reveal her bondmate standing on the other side of it.
Knockout's appearance had so clearly been nothing more then unintended and absolutely perfect timing. Because he walked into the medbay and halfway across the room toward the largest of the storage cabinets, obviously in need of medical supplies to restock his own smaller cabinets on his ward. But he stopped suddenly in the middle of the room, clearly cluing in only then to anything around him. And he quickly spun partway around, clearly close to losing his balance in doing so, and catching himself with a corner of a worktable, thankfully just within his reach. Then with steps just as fast as he dared try walking, he hurried to stand beside his mate in front of the repair table she'd been on.
"What did you wish to comm me for?" he asked quickly, concerned as he looked from his bondmate to his teammate and back again. "Arcee... what happened? Why did you come to medical?"
"It's nothing serious," Ratchet said, answering for her quickly, with a simply shake of his head and a hint of a smile. "Your bondmate here just had a little fall."
"A fall?" Knockout's tone was one of clear alarm now. And he looked his mate over carefully. "Arcee, what happened?"
"I... slipped in the wash station," she told him slowly. She was embarrassed all over again despite her newfound excitement of the news she had to share. And she resisted the urge to look at the floor, dismayed as ever over one clumsy slip on wet tiles, after endless years of running and tumbling so gracefully with blasters in battle. She shook her head, and sighed. "Slightly dislocated wrist joint. It's nothing..."
"So...?" Knockout was clearly confused entirely by now, if not just as clearly relieved over his understanding that her injury was indeed one that needed barely a second thought about it. "Why comm me if it's really nothing?"
"Because..." Arcee stood still for a second, unsure of exactly what to say, before a smile spread over her face-plate. Knockout looked at her half sideways now, and truly confused by her grinning. But she
just reached for his hand, and placed it gently over her spark chamber, smiling even brighter as she found her words again. "Because... of the newspark."
"The... newspark?" Knockout muttered, his tone momentarily near baffled before switching fast to complete shock and near disbelief. "Arcee... are we... really...?"
"The tiny spark would never even have been discovered yet, if Arcee hadn't slipped and fallen," Ratchet said, his hand resting lightly on Knockout's shoulder panel and a grin across his face-plate. "My congratulations to both of you."
"We... we finally did it... just when we'd truly given up," Arcee mumbled. And just as she'd done so much that past year, she burst out again into coolant tears – though this time they were happy ones.
"We did! We did!" Knockout said back, almost shouting as he did. And he grabbed his mate suddenly, pulling her tight against him with her arms wrapped around her, and causing her to squeal with happy surprise as she wiped at her optics.
"Our second child with be a playmate for 'Bee and Speedy's forth, and their fifth," Knockout exclaimed. "And... Firestorm and Soundwave's youngling! And we still have the old newborn things. You see, Arcee... I told you to keep them a while longer. I think I can build a frame this time... no. I know I can do it. And Cybershock will finally have a sibling. She'll be so excited. She's old enough to help us name the newspark!"
"How are you going to tell her?" Arcee asked, speaking quickly the second her mate paused in the midst of his rapid-fire rambling.
"We could..." Knockout started to answer at once. But he paused again the second he'd started. And for a good moment, he just stood still, thinking hard. Finally, the smile spread over his face-plate again, and he let go of Arcee to look her in the optics.
"We'll think of something! And no matter what, she'll love it!"
"Did I tell you yet how amazing you look tonight?" Knockout questioned, grinning as he held out a hand to help his mate into her usual seat in the front row of the racetrack stands. He watched her carefully as she sat, and then finally he let go of her hand, only so that he could pull a small bag of her favourite soft energon candies out of his storage compartment, and offer them to her.
"No," Arcee answered, grinning back. She took the sweets from him with a far brighter grin and opened the bag slowly. "But you told me this morning... and last night... and yesterday morning..."
"And you only look better and better with each passing day," Knockout answered. He felt the slight chill of the evening air, and pulled her close to his frame at once, with his heater running, and thoroughly enjoying fretting over her just as much as she might let him.
"I feel better with each passing day," she said, smiling up at him, enjoying his warmth and reaching out to hold his hand in hers. "Yesterday was wonderful. Today is amazing. I just... I can't believe I'm really carrying again!"
"It really is incredible," Knockout replied. And he hugged her just a little tighter. "There's so much to do, and I can't wait to do it all. We need to build a frame, rearrange our recharge room... I wonder what we'll call the newspark..." he paused then for a moment, just hold her and smiling like a youngling. "Cybershock still doesn't know a thing..."
"We'll tell her tonight," Arcee said, decisively and still smiling brightly. "After the race."
She looked for a moment over the track, where seven 'amateur' league bots, were currently near bumper to bumper on their third lap of ten – at at Cybershock, who sat on the ground at the track's far side, appearing to chat with Hotwire and Switchgear while they revved their engines in the bot modes to warm up for their own up coming race. Arcee waved at her youngling happily, thought he knew full well, the little bot thought she looked ridiculous and doing it. Cybershock clearly didn't see her through, busy instead with her friends and her warm-ups, and watching the older bots race. And Arcee tried hard not to feel disappointed.
"You remember what I said years ago when we agreed we'd try for this second youngling?" Knockout said, his voice pulling her attention back to him again. "You be careful... any sign of trouble, anything at all, and you tell me in under five seconds. Or you call Ratchet. No running, no hard training... no shooting your blasters... sit down as much as you can while you're at work..."
"No heavy lifting. No speeding in vehicle mode. No... risky negotiations with armed bots over refugee hostages... or back alley brawling with the wreckers?"
"Arcee. I'm serious."
"I know," Arcee moved to rest her head on her bond mate's shoulder panel. And she smiled up at him again. "I promise to behave. I know it's still high risk for me to carry again. But, I feel good about this one.."
Their happy conversation was interrupted then by bulkhead. Who sidestepped, clumsily back into the seat Arcee has saved for him beside her, with all three containers of their flavoured fuel teetering badly between his two big hands.
What a turn out!" he exclaimed. And just as soon as he was relieved of two of the energon containers, she gestured around wildly at the crowded, that was quickly filling the stands to near maximum capacity.
"Turn out indeed," Knockout said, his own grin growing brighter again. "Big night for the racers."
That evening, the Younglings' junior league was about to race it's qualifying runs in the first race leading up the championship. And they were doing so, right along with both the 'amateur' and 'masters' classes, all in that very same evening. There would be awards too, handed out to various bots of all three classes at the end of the races. And New Cybertron many excited racing fans sat jammed packed to somewhere very close to full capacity in the stands – most of them chattering loudly by now among themselves and laughing while they munched on snacks and drank from containers of favoured energon.
"Hellooo," called out Speedbeaker, who walked into the stands with her pair of twins following close behind her – Tailfin held between them both by his little outstretched hands, as he wobbled along just as fast as he could go. And Arcee waved back at once, a grin on her face-plate all over again, as she sat staring at the newborn, Speedbreaker carried in her arms.
"This is Kickstart," Speedy said. And Arcee looked the tiny bot over the second her friend had dropped him, grinning, into her eagerly waiting arms. The little youngling – just like Tailfin, was close to a tiny version of their carrier, with her bright orange paint and shiny chrome highlights. And though Arcee knew he'd been born eight days before, she was seeing him only now for the first time, and was overjoyed to have finally gotten to meet him.
"He's adorable," she said. And instantly her own spark flared with joy as she thought again of her own newspark – every hint of the usual underlying sadness she felt when she held another bot's youngling, entirely nonexistent now.
"My turn," Knockout said with a grin of his own, as he gently snatched up the newborn from his mate's lap. And so Arcee immediately picked up a now slightly pouting Tailfin, who stood on the ground by her knees, and clearly feeling just a little left out.
"'Wace, wace!" Tailfin shouted loudly, tiny fingers pointing at the track nearby. And he bounced in Arcee's lap, his tiny feet kicking in obvious excitement. "Daddy! Brodder! Wace!"
"Yeah, 'Fin," said Sparkplug, smiling at him after she and Hubcap had both nodded polite greetings to Arcee, Knockout, and Bulkhead. "Hotwire's race is first I think. Then Daddy's, with the master's class."
"Get-em! Get-em!" Tailfin yelled, grinning as he watched the racetrack, still filled with the racing 'amateur' class. His tiny engine, inside a frame far to small to transform and drive, revved loudly. And all three Autobots around him laughed loudly at once, because he sounded so much like a racing fan.
"Speedy," Arcee said, turned around on the bench, to talk to her friend, who had sat with her family in empty seats behind hers. She grabbed her arm gently, and shook it a little, like a youngling, in her growing excitement. "Promise me you won't say a word about this to anyone yet!"
"A word around what?" Speedbreaker looked down at her from the bench above, clearly confused. And her expression was a nearly hilarious mix of concern, curiosity, and something close to near panic. Arcee just looked for a moment, between her friend's newborn and her bondmate beside her, as her smile grew bigger again.
"I'm... carrying again," she said, still in a whisper. And she held up a hand at once, adding still so quietly. "No one knows yet... not even Cybershock..."
Speedy just nodded, her own joyful grin quickly spreading across her face-plate. And slowly, she raised a hand to her mouth, pulling a couple fingers across in an Earth gesture she'd clearly picked up once from Autobots, meant to represent 'zipping' her mouth closed.
"That's wonderful," she said, a second later, and in a quiet whisper of her own. She sat watching the track for a long moment, as the racers still on it completed their race in a finish so close that for a while, a few stood around in their bot modes just behind the finish line arguing with each other and two officials, hands waving and frowns on their face-plates.
"You're waited so long, I know you wanted one so much... our babies will be playmates! And Firestorm and Soundwave's too!" Speedy was so clearly well beyond excited now. But she managed to whisper in spite of her emotions, while she bounced like a youngling in her own seat.
"Here we go, here we go," Hubcap shouted suddenly. He jumped to his feet, for a reason that would never be obvious, nearly fell in his haste to do so, and promptly sat down again, while Sparkplug laughed at him.
"Wace! Wace!" yelled Tailfin again.
And Arcee settled back into her seat beside her mate, watching just as intently as he always had.
Eleven youngling racers drove slowly onto the track, behind a race official. And though they were all in their vehicle modes, it was so easy to guess that each and every one of them was smiling brightly. Each one shown in the light of the sun, low in the sky, their fresh coats of wax reflecting the light. And their small engines revved and roared, over the sounds of a few of their confidant laughs, at being allowed to drive the track single file and allowed to simply show off their miniature alt modes.
For a few metres, Speedtrap drove backwards, having spun himself around to face the exact wrong direction before the official had a chance to stop him. Turbocharge, Takedown, and Headlight, the trio of brothers on the track, and kicked up dust at the back of the line, and Cybershock simply accelerated fast, moving ahead of the pack before weaving from one side of the track to the other, showing just what a Smart-car could do, before she dropped back into line again.
"That's my girl, that's my girl!" Knockout cheered loudly, pointing his finger and waving his hand in her direction for anyone who somehow still may not have known exactly which youngling was his, to know it for sure. And beside him Arcee shook her head, laughing just a little and sure he might just have jumped to his feet in his excitement, if such sudden fast moves were possible and safe for him to make.
She watched in silence then, leaning forward in her seat, her attention on Cybershock entirely as they little bots began to race. She watched Cybershock take the lead quickly. And she watched as Speedtrap took it just as fast. For a second Takedown seemed like he would overtake them both... then Cybershock was ahead again at the start of their second lap of the track. Tiny engines roared louder, each one working to his maximum potential, and each small bot pushing themselves harder than any ever had before.
Arcee cringed just a little, against her bondmate's armour, as the small racers reached speeds into the low triple digits. And she crigned harder, then grinned, as Cybershock and Hotwire rounded a turn together nearly side and side, and almost banged against each other hand, but didn't. And Cybershock pulled away, back into the lead again, with Speedtrap speeding to catch up, and Hotwire backing off, intimidated. At the back of the small pack, Switchgear tried as hard as she could – a small green dune buggy – with her engine revving high. But she couldn't keep up, and neither could Turbocharge. Arcee knew though it didn't seem to matter much to either one of them, because she heard both laughing together as they raced hard against each other at the back of the pack, both clearly determined to simply not be the very last to finish. Hotwire had soon lost the pack too. And he dropped in line before Switch' and Turbo'. A second later, it was clear Cybershock was winning now, and not just by a tiny bit.
Arcee leapt to her feet, hands clapping hard, cheering loudly over the noise of the other bots who cheered on the racers all around her. And she would never know what made her look up to the sky in that moment.
She felt only confusion at first, when she caught her first glimpse of the large shuttle coming in fast and so low in the sky. She watched carefully as it swung around a short distance away, its massive weight causing obvious drag, causing it to look for a moment like it might tip itself over. And slowly, it drifted back toward the racetrack.
"Knockout..." she said, tapping her mate lightly on his shoulder panel, looking up again to direct his attention to the sky above. "I haven't heard a thing about returning refugees today..."
She watched her mate first in baffled confusion, and then with fast growing horror, as he stared up at the shuttle for only a momen,t before he looked around at the tightly packed, still cheering crowd, his optics wide with his obvious alarm.
"Down!" Knockout screamed, over the sound of the still oblivious crowd of racing fans. "Close to the ground, under these benches! And cover your heads!"
Arcee didn't see how many bots may have followed his sudden shouted directions, or if any might have even heard him – because he'd shoved her down to the floor of the stands before she could even react. And he'd given her just enough time to shift Tailfin – who she still held – in front of her safely and place her wight over him in a position of protection.
"What the... frag?" Speedbreaker muttered behind them. And Arcee lifted her head, still confused herself, reacting by now only on her still too well trained battle instincts, to see Bulkhead yanked Speedy down beside her twins.
There was a blast then. Enough to shake the stands. And just a second later three more followed. Arcee stayed still for a moment, tiny Tailfin tucked under her frame. She heard his whimpering cries, and felt his small body shake a little with his terrified sobs, and that was enough to make her pay attention. She could hear the sound of jet engines roaring loud above the crowd, and dared to lift her head, looking up, and finally sitting up on the ground, to see the shuttle retreating fast.
"Knockout!" she screamed, as the crowd all around her erupted into chaos, some running for the gates pushing and shoving in their panic - and others sitting still and screaming to each other in a steady wave of horrifying noise.
She looked over Speedbreaker's youngling in her arms sighing at once with her relief when he appeared terrified by unharmed. Speedy was fine too, sitting on the bench she'd never left, Hubcab held tight against her frame with one arm, and Sparkplug with the other. All three trembled hard, and Speedbreaker gasped out her shock in horrified hollow intakes, as she held her middle children tighter.
"Knockout!" Arcee cried out again. She finally stopped him, face-plate down on the ground beside his seat. And after a frantic second that seemed like forever, she finally saw him move, struggling to his knees, with a clearly undamaged newborn Kickstart in his arms.
"Astrotrain!" he growled, gesturing toward the fast retreating shuttle high above, with his right hand shaking in his own clear shock.
"Arcee! Knockout!" Bulkhead's voice rang out loudly, close beside her. And she turned, blinking a little at her big green teammate. She dragged herself to her feet and stared at him, as everything seemed to spin around her. She heard his words then, and nothing else besides.
"Arcee... Knockout... those... whatever he tried dropping on our heads... they've hit the racetrack!"
Notes / I fear this chapter may have been just a little, hmm... boring maybe. Way too much conversation and not much actually happening through most of it. I thought and rethought this one, debated pulling one scene of another to use later instead. But I decided it just wouldn't make any sense that way. And anyway, as you can easily guess, things are going down in the next one.
Also, I do hope I have not already managed to create a too out of character Astrotrain. I'm a far bigger fan of 'Prime' and 'Armada' then the 80s TV series, and my hope is not to have royally goofed this guy up in trying to use him as our new threat to Cybertron. I'm always open to feedback of course. If any fans want to correct me, I'll listen.