SYCMD: Welp, I missed last month's update period... and I've got no other chapters finished yet in time for this cycle. Ah, well, something's better than nothing, right? Enjoy!
"Leo? Are you hungry? ...I brought you energon. Again."
Hellbat stood for the third orn in a row outside the lieutenant commander's berthroom, cupping the only cube of energon he was allotted and staring meekly at the sealed metal door. Like the times prior, no response was forthcoming. A blip crossed his HDU as the spy continued to stand there uselessly; Komoribreast reporting from his position in the narrow vent above the fortified quarters. Leozack was apparently active and well, yet his back was turned to the door and he showed no signs of leaving the berth he was curled up on. Optics dimmed at the update, vastly aware that his charge's emotional state was a direct consequence of his ever-growing list of inadequacies.
The breastanimal chirped across their secret communication line. Apparently, the silver creature wanted to enter the room and see the tiny tomcat face-to-face. Komoribreast's odd affection for Leozack was rife in the neural connection between master and subordinate. Hellbat shook his helm though, sending a short message back to his symbiont.
"Leozack is alive. That is all we need to know. Retreat and meet with me at these coordinates."
The creature squeaked in disappointment, but was moving already as ordered. The blue mech on the other hand stared for nearly half a klik more at the door, silently wishing, before he accepted that the youngling still wanted nothing to do with him. Bending, he left the cup of energon on the floor, vocalizing his actions aloud for his charge, then turning and walking away.
Once more, alone.
xxXxXxx
Despite yet another horrible start to the orn, it seemed at least things were picking up in other areas of the rafale's life.
All Destrons (bar himself and Leozack, obviously) had been summoned for a large scale raid on yet another human location. Hellbat didn't know the specifics of where or how they were collecting their bounty of energon this time round, but it really didn't matter to him. This gave him the opportunity to move around the ship without fear of crossing paths with the other crew, an interaction he dreaded when he was covered and absolutely feared while unmasked. It was easier to lie and play the fool when others could only see half of your face. Now with everyone gone for at least several cycles, it meant the spy didn't have to worry about the other violent oafs; in particular, he also didn't have to be concerned about running into Drillhorn while he raided Thunder Arrow's medbay. Hellbat was determined to make good use of this time.
Quickly, if not cluelessly, the blue Destron moved around the sterile room, opening cupboards and checking drawers. One by one, he began to find the tools that he needed, though the jet still had yet to find his mouthguard. "Where the slag is it?!," he seethed in a hush to himself, bending to check along cabinet baseboards and behind bins. He even checked the chest of scrap metal, to no success! Still having no results, after scouring every inch of the medbay a third time, Hellbat rocked back onto his aft, groaning in aggravation.
Trust Drillhorn to spend the extra time to dispose of the blue mech's mask creatively.
Muffled cheeping drew Hellbat out of his miserable reprieve. Looking up, he was ecstatic to see Komoribreast flapping over his helm, with his mouthguard clutched in its tiny fangs.
"You found it!," the spy cheered, leaping up and taking the dented metal away from his partner. He gave the tiny creature extra ear scritches as it nestled on his shoulder plating for a nuzzle. "Great job, Komori! Primus, I did not want to have to try and make one from scratch. Where did that twirly-nosed brute hide it, huh?"
Hellbat was quick to yank the breastanimal away from him, holding both the bat and his mouthguard away from his frame by an arm's length when it answered. "...the hazardous waste tank," the jet vented flatly. "Of course."
"No. No more pets," he scolded firmly, when Komoribreast tried to land back on his plating after being released. "You take yourself straight into the detox chamber and get scrubbed good. I can't believe you put this in your mouth! Uuuurghhh... I'm gonna have to sterilize this thing, like, seven times before I can even wear it. No, I'm not joking. I don't need some organic sludge getting inside my systems and messing something up. Drillhorn will refuse to repair me for weeks until I'm nearly deactivated."
Komoribreast chittered unhappily at the conversation, but he was wholly ignored as Hellbat walked over to a high-intensity sterilization chamber, meant for tools and the like, cracking open the glass door to the box and setting his mask inside. After he'd set the machine to run for five rotations, at it's most thorough setting, the spy turned and picked up his still-squawking breastanimal and headed straight for the detox chamber at the opposite end of the medbay. Ten kliks later, the unfortunate duo stepped back out, wearing equal faces of misery.
"Don't you start with me," Hellbat grumbled to the creature. "If you think that the decontamination foam stung your wings, it's nothing compared to my mashed-up face. You're fine, so stop whining!"
Komoribreast hissed lightly, pulling free from its master's servos and flying up into the darkened corners of the medbay ceiling. The blue Destron could hardly care at that moment about the creature's displeasure over their impromptu cleansing. He'd already wasted a precious cycle on this run-around. Who knew how much time he had left before the others returned now?
Feeling the press of anxiety, Hellbat returned to his batch of collected medical items; laying them out by need and pulling one of the rolling, enlarged mirrors towards his work station. After a painful injection of medical nanites into the crumpled zone of his face, the spy set to work. Ripping out the battered pieces one by one, realigning the least-damaged ones with new bits of scrap, and verifying that the network of neural relays and minuscule webbing of energon tubes were still whole beneath the exterior structure. It was gory, time-consuming work, especially operating on oneself, but Hellbat went through each process with a skill that spoke of many self-repaired injuries in the past. Just as the medical nanites began to deactivate, flooding his facial region with sensation again, the rafale was finishing the last of his soldering; carefully surveying his handiwork in the comically-large mirror from every conceivable angle.
"...It's not quite the smoothest," Hellbat mumbled to himself, touching the space where olfactory sensor blended into the rest of his face, between his optics, "But it's whole again. I can try buffing it out more later. First, we gotta clean up the evidence."
The blue Destron scooped up the array of tools and equipment, spinning around to carry them to the sterilization station -and nearly dropped them all in shock at the figure standing in the room's open doorway. For a dreadfully long, silent moment, tomcat and rafale stared at each other from across the medbay, before Hellbat broke the quiet with a clicking reset of his vocalizer.
"...e-excuse me," he mumbled, turning away from the youngling, "Go-gotta clean up. Don't wanna leave a mess for the others to find."
Leozack said nothing, watching with half-lit optics as the older flyer went about his tasks. Even when Komoribreast dive-bombed from the ceiling, squeaking in delight as he draped over the youngling's mane and began nuzzling the flared tips, the teal Destron remained quiet. Hellbat knew ignoring the tiny jet would get him nowhere; still, he could use the busy-work of cleaning to avoid meeting those large, innocent orbs for as long as possible.
"Did you get the energon I left you?," the spy asked mindlessly, pulling out rags and cleanser and wiping down the berth that he'd been fixing his face at. "I hope it was still fresh when you drank it. It was hard to leave it laying around with those big, scaly dopes meandering around the ship. They're stupid but their olfactory sensors are top-notch. They can scent out energon territories away."
The rafale scrubbed the slab until it was practically gleaming, then he did the same to the mirror he'd spent the last couple cycles staring into. Rolling it back to where he'd found it, Hellbat continued on to wipe down the detox chamber. "Has the laser burn healed fully? I... I wanted to ask but you voiced that I leave you alone, so I didn't want to pry too much. Drillhorn has the personality of a furnace but he's the best medical officer we have on staff here, so I know his handiwork is never shoddy. Even if his mannerisms are... less than ideal..."
There was nothing left to scrub, so the blue Destron threw his rag into the recycling bin and tucked the cleanser bottle back into his respective cubby, before double-checking that every item in every drawer and cupboard was set in exactly the same position that he'd found them in. He also did the same for the doors to the cabinets, ensuring that each was closed seamlessly.
"I-i-i... I'm sorry, again, L-leo. I truly a-am. I n-never intended for you to come to harm, e-especially here on the ship. I-it's... It's not b-because of you that t-the others act like this. Honestly, it's... it's because of me," Hellbat mumbled, finally having run out of things to distract himself with. He paused, staring down at his servos blankly, sensory grid prickling at the phantom-sensation of his charge's gaze. "Truth is, the others hate me. And they seem to be taking some of that out on you now. I'm so sorry, Leo."
The sterilization station beeped as it finished its last cycle, drawing the spy's helm back. As he did, his optics caught those of the youngling's; a forceful smile spreading across still-sore cheekplates to hide the crushing grief that rose at the sight of the tomcat's hunched figure.
"...Is that why you do nothing when they treat you bad?," Leozack whispered curiously, pink orbs pinning the older fly in place, "A-and why you're here, fixing up your stupid face by yourself, after that old mech broke it? Why do you even fight beside them? How can you trust they won't shoot you in battle, by 'accident'?"
Each profound question pierced straight through to Hellbat's spark, choking his next set of intakes as he struggled to find a way to answer such prying inquiries. "I-i-i...," he stammered, finally breaking the hold the youngling had on him and glancing away, "We're not picked for this position, b-because we are friends, Leo. We were chosen due to our pre-existing abilities and our tested synchronization to the Emperor's new favourite technology."
The blue mech gestured vaguely at himself and Komoribreast, shuffling slowly over to the counter to pull his mouthguard from the sterilization station. "Komoribreast is just one of the six battle companions that Lord Deathsaurus had designed; not including the two his majesty has wired to himself. If I had failed the operations to fuse Komori with my own systems, then I wouldn't be here now... T-though, maybe not, as my spark-compatibility to meld into a combiner form with others also ranks me higher than most soldiers back home," he shared, sighing at the sad reality of his life.
It was one thing to know that you were worth only so much as a dictator saw fit; another situation entirely, to speak that truth out loud.
Wiping the extra condensation off of his mouthguard, Hellbat spun slowly to face Leozack once more. This time, it was to the sight of the youngling holding a content Komori to his chestplates in a vice-like hug. Furrowed brow and upset scowl adorned the tomcat's face as he looked up from the cuddling breastanimal. "That's stupid and unfair," he grumbled childishly. "They told us all soldiers are friends. That we work together for the Empire; we live and fight as one. But everyone here is horrible and the worst soldiers ever! How are they supposed to save our home if they treat you -their comrade- so terribly!?"
The spy shrugged, clipping his mask back in place, carefully, so as not to agitate his fresh welds. "The war is long and I'm certain we'll pull through. The Emperor is a well-fought soldier and brilliant tactician. If the others don't like me, well... I don't care. I'm happier being alone," he said.
What he thought would be encouraging words to his charge, though, were in fact, not. For as soon as the blue jet had spoke them, Leozack's face began to crumple in despair, his optics glazing with coolant.
Hellbat dropped to the floor at once, scrambling closer on servos and knee joints. "L-leo?!," he yelped, fingers hovering uncertainly around the youngling's frame. Wanting to hold the tiny tomcat, but not sure what he had done to ruin their unexpected reconciliation already. "W-what's wrong? I-is it something I d-did?! Pl-please, talk t-to me! I-if it's what I s-said, I'm sorry! I'm a big idiot; it doesn't mean anything!"
Leozack only shook his helm as he folded tighter into himself, Komoribreast caught between shaking arms that clamped harder on the breastanimal, until even the silver bat was squeaking in discomfort. "N-nobody w-wants me a-around, n-not even y-you," the teal mechling sniffled loudly, his winglets shaking hard, "You ju-just want to b-be alone a-and I-i-i'm too l-little and we-weak to b-be of use to a-anyone. I-if I'm su-such a burden, w-why do I even bother staying h-here...?"
It was a gut-punch to his spark, hearing such words coming from the tiny Destron. All hesitancy left Hellbat as he grabbed his charge's mane, forcing the tomcat to look upwards. Leozack tried fighting him, but the rafale refused to soften his hold. "Leo, y-you look at me right now. I mean it, Leo. Look me in the face!," he ordered firmly, waiting until swamped orbs were glued to his own. This time, the spy did not shy away from those fractured optics, nor did he let his own aching spark break his resolve.
"You cannot be too little or too weak, because your potential is still locked away inside of you: burning and growing with such a fire that it'll be brighter than any star once it's ready to show everyone," Hellbat imparted surely, the deep echo of his words locking the youngling into a trance, "And if everyone can't be bothered to wait until such a time, then they don't deserve to spend even an astrosecond in your presence! As for me -sure, I may not want to be around other 'bots my vorns, but you are worth more than those pock-marked afts any orn. You, Leo are priceless, and I am honoured every klik that you are in my life. I will never leave you!"
A small, niggling thought at the back of the spy's processor hissed that perhaps his speech was a tad much, as the teal jet's face lit up like a star-speckled banner below him. Yet when Leozack threw himself straight into the blue Destron's chest, tiny arms looping as far as they would go for a hug, Hellbat didn't care. He crushed the tomcat against his torso with just as much passion, feeling his spark spin serenely for the first time in orns.
Of course, it had to be broken in the most nonsensical way possible a few astroseconds into bliss.
"...Hellbat? I'm still hungry," Leozack mumbled from the larger jet's shoulder, the last of his sniffles fading.
The blue mech shuttered his optics stupidly at the comment, sighing as the words processed in his helm. He'd given the youngling a full ration except for the mouthful he'd drank for himself- how could the tomcat not be satisfied after all that? He was so little! Drawing back, Hellbat hummed thoughtfully, trying to figure out a solution to Leozack's sudden increase in appetite. The typical dispenser in the rec room was off limits because it couldn't be hacked (he'd tried in the past) and the refinery was housed behind Deathsaurus' throne, so that too was a no-go.
"Maybe...," Hellbat mulled aloud, his gaze scoping the medbay. A precursory study revealed the narrow, white machine set into the wall, next to a series of temperature-controlled cabinets.
"Aha! There!," he exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the dispenser for his curious companion. "That's the medbay's designated energon dispenser. It shouldn't be war-rationed like the others, even if it is lower-grade... Let's grab as many cubes as we can carry and split before anyone finds out!"
Leozack, giddy with excitement at further mischief making, darted across the room without another word; pushing a bin up to the wall and clambering on its top to activate the machine. Hellbat joined him, pulling the recyclable containers out of the socket beneath the dispenser to catch the murky, pink liquid as it poured. They were in the middle of filling up a fifth cube when there came an awkward cough from the door; alarmed, the pair turned to face their latest arrival. The blue Destron was especially stunned to see that it was Jallguar that had caught them red-handed, and not Drillhorn, who frequently hung around the medbay. All the same, Hellbat shoved four out of five of the cubes in Leozack's straining arms, telling the youngling to run, placing himself between his black comrade and his charge as the tomcat took off.
"You didn't see nothing!," Hellbat threatened, poised to throw the final cube of low-grade at the racing buggy. "There's no energon missing, got it?!"
Jallguar made a face at the other's growl. "But, I did," he replied flatly, no hint of sarcasm or ire in his tone. Just pure, simple facts. The rafale tried to remain calm. It was so hard to know if the black Destron was stupid or generally a dull mech. Certainly, he'd never gotten into any sort of spats on the Thunder Arrow since leaving the Fortress.
As Hellbat was deciding if he should use his hypnosis on the baja buggy or sacrifice his cube of energon to escape, Jallguar spoke again. "Drillhorn will be coming here shortly," he announced casually, "I heard noises. I thought you'd like to know."
The spy stared at his comrade in astonishment. "...O-oh...," the muttered lamely, tucking the cube of energon into his subspace. "Eh, thanks... I-i guess..."
The blue mech skittered around the baja anxiously, glancing at the other Destron repeatedly as he made it past the medbay's threshold. Jallguar turned to follow Hellbat's motion, his mouth parting slightly and a queer sound leaving his vocalizer.
"...Hellbat?"
The rafale paused, shoulders rising defensively as he met his comrade's optics. "What?," he snapped, impatient.
Jallguar took his sweet time to respond, reaching into his own subspace and pulling out an item. Hellbat, ready to fight should it be a weapon, was flabbergasted when it turned out to be a cup in the black mech's fingers -his cup, to be exact. The same one that he'd absentmindedly thrust into his companion's servos while chasing Leozack, almost a week ago now. If that wasn't shocking enough, it was also full of fresh, glowing fuel. "It is yours," the buggy informed, holding it out in offer for the spy.
Hellbat couldn't help but sputter as he snatched the cup, his gaze jumping back and forth between the receptacle and the quieter Destron. "B-but-? How-? W-why?"
His black comrade shrugged neutrally. "You didn't hurt Blacker," he answered vaguely.
The jet opened his mouth but before he could even formulate a question to that statement, he heard the echo of vocalizers beginning to rise from the other end of the ship. Knowing he'd run out of time, Hellbat spun about and took off down the opposite corridor, leaving Jallguar behind without a second thought.
The baja merely palmed the medbay door shut and headed off to his own quarters.
xxXxXxx
The rest of the orn was spent blissfully locked away in the lieutenant commander's quarters.
Walking in though, had been a nightmare. Sure, it wasn't to the same degree of chaos that Killbison could make by simply existing in a space, but a mess was a mess, and Leozack had created quite a bit during his seventy-two cycle isolation. Furniture knocked over, datapads scattered about, tiny scratches in the wall... It was a good cycle of work to clean up all of the youngling's temper tantrum, sped up thanks to the teal jet's willingness to assist. Though, once the manual labour was out of the way, the tiny Destron was back to his relatively usual antics, demanding fuel, entertainment, and especially, a bath.
Hellbat, merely happy to not have fallen out of the tomcat's graces and determined to never make his charge feel abandoned again, acquiesced to Leozack's wants. There had never been a more luxurious sponge bath as the one that followed, with a lake of cleanser foam six inches high and coating the floor of the berthroom's private washrack in technicolour hues, until they'd been washed away at the end. Four different rags had come out for the process, of varying thickness and grit, each interchanged as the spy scrubbed the youngling from helm to pede with intense finesse. There wasn't a nook or cranny that had escaped the older Destron's cleaning. His charge was practically gleaming after such a thorough bath and, to guarantee such a shine, Hellbat even pulled out a can of wax he'd found in the cleanser closet.
Leozack had preened at his reflection in the washrack mirror for a good ten kliks while the rafale tidied up. He was all smiles and that special sort of egocentric charm that only sparklings could possess when he turned to the blue mech, demanding to be carried back to the berth and rest. The larger jet beamed brightly in return and he did as told.
Now, they were relaxing in the lieutenant commander's large berth together -Leozack with a glass of energon in servo and wrapped snugly in a blanket, with Hellbat next to him, holding a tablet steady for both of them to view. The spy had used his exemplary skills to reconfigure the device's network and force a connection through Earth's satellites in a matter of astroseconds, allowing the pair to stream whatever content they wanted off of the humans' television services. Funnily enough, the youngling had chosen a series of nature documentaries, blending colourful animation intended for the organic juveniles with real photographs and footage of the subject at hand. They'd probably watched fifteen odd episodes by that point, and yet, Leozack did not seem interested in stopping. As the discussion of fungal micro-organisms continued, the tomcat wriggled closer to the rafale; a small yawn escaping him as he settled his helm on his caretaker's chestplates.
Hellbat glanced down at the tiny Destron. "Maybe we should call it a night," he suggested, slowly moving the tablet away.
"No way!," Leozack gasped, his servo shooting out lightning fast and yanking the screen back into view, "I never said I was done!"
The spy allowed it, a servo rubbing at the flared tips of his charge's mane. "Well, whether you say it or not, I'm pretty sure we'll be recharging soon. We both heard that sleepy, little sound you made just now."
The youngling's disgruntled face was reflected in the tablet as the lighting in the scene changed; the tomcat slithering deeper into his cocoon as he raised the cup to his mouth. "I am not!," he protested, "I'm still drinking my energon, so shut up! I can't hear what kind of organisms take over their target's processor."
"Maybe this is getting a little morbid...," Hellbat mumbled, glancing at his companion worriedly, "Are you sure you don't want to skip to another video? There's a bunch more on mammal-class organics. One subset even looks like Komori!"
Leozack paused mid-sip, his optics gleaming with curiosity. Yet, he shook his helm quickly after, the blue mech's cajoling having failed. "Later. This stuff is pretty cool, and if I can learn all about these microscopic specimens, then I can rub it in Lyzack's face once I get back home," he said, a dark grin pulling at the corners of his lip components. "That pushy, little know-it-all will be so jealous that I know more stuff than her for once!"
"Lyzack...?," the spy echoed, perplexed. What an odd choice for a designation. He'd never heard it before, so clearly they weren't enrolled in Deathsaurus' forces like himself, but the name seemed like such a pitiful attempt at copying-
"Lyzack is my sister. Twin, to be precise," Leozack rapidly supplied, scoffing at some unknown memory. "She's always bragging about how much smarter she is, and how her academic testing outranks me each and every time. Lyzack might score the highest right now on historical and scientific material, but I've got the best stats in agility, application and reflexes. That rail-spike couldn't hope to beat me in a fight, and soon enough, I'll know even more than her!"
"Uh-huh...," Hellbat muttered distantly, too distracted by his internal freak-out to offer a more in-depth response. Leozack had a sibling? A TWIN PROTOFORM?! The implications of this were wild enough, but it was especially sickening to know that somewhere back across this ever-expanding universe, there was a Destron carrying a fraction of the tomcat's spark within their chamber -and the spy had not known the slightest. In this convoluted situation that the pair found themselves in, what exactly was Hellbat supposed to do with this information? His former lieutenant commander was gone; had his sister felt the shift in their dynamic from deep with the sealed Fortress? Or was she also effected by the same malady that had birthed this poor, magical sparkling that the rafale was slowly beginning to bond with? Could anyone in their forgotten home even help, if communication was achievable?
Leozack had gone silent, his optics glued upwards and not on the screen. He was watching the tiny flashes of emotion dancing in his caretaker's unfocused gaze, a scowl pulling deeper and deeper on his once-content features. It took the tomcat sitting up entirely to finally break the spy from his reverie.
"Ye-?"
"I'm better than her, you know!," Leozack snapped, cutting the older Destron off with alarming vitriol, "You can't just ignore me! Everyone else thinks she's so fantastic, but she's not here! I am! I get to be on this weird, interesting dirt ball and learn all sorts of stuff on xenobiology and even help under the amazing Emperor himself. That makes me better! You should be paying attention to me!" To underline his statement, the youngling threw himself on the rafale's chestplates, rattling something with the force, while tiny, sharp digits sank deeply into seams.
Hellbat held back his wince at the aggressiveness, not at all perturbed by the small Destron's actions. Competitiveness was highly encouraged back on the Fortress; being cut-throat socially, but particularly education-wise, was the Deathsaurus' ideal. He wanted only the best of the best. It would make sense that such toxic mentality would be doubled in cases of siblings. How exhausting every orn must have been, from the moment of onlining to the very astrosecond of recharge... This nugget of information certainly gave the older jet a lot to ponder on when it came to his charge's attitude.
"S-sorry, sorry," the blue mech replied, moving the discarded cup (thankfully empty) and the tablet to the side. It was challenging to do, what with a teal leech strapped tightly to his torso and all, though Hellbat managed just fine; reclining when he finished and rubbing soothing circles into white winglets. "I didn't mean to compare. I was simply... caught off-guard by the fact that you have a twin. That is very rare, you know."
"I'm aware," the tomcat hissed lowly, grip tightening on the rafale's frame.
Hellbat sighed. "Yeah... you probably do. I bet you've heard many praises and questions about your uncommon protoforming all your life," he continued gently, "But I don't know a thing about this Lyzack. I know you, and you're right: you are here. You're experiencing a life that many others back home will never get the chance to. That makes you very special."
There was no change from Leozack, neither positive or negative. The spy pressed on, not wanting the silence to engulf them again so soon after the last incident.
"If I was distracted, it's... it's because I just remembered that I haven't thought of the Fortress in a very, very long time," Hellbat said. It wasn't completely a lie. "I left many stellar cycles ago and the war has been at the forefront of my mind all this time. C-could... could we maybe talk a bit about what you remember of home? To help refresh my archives?"
Slowly, the teal helm rotated so that now the youngling was staring up at the larger jet from his spot, expression contemplative but guarded.
"...I'm not talking about my stupid sister," he informed.
"That's perfectly fine," Hellbat smiled. "I rather know about Leo's life on the Fortress. And to make it even, I'll teach you how to bypass a coded lock on a terminal."
That seemed to finally do it. The jealousy pulled back a bit from the tomcat's face, a glimmer of eagerness returning to his optics. "O-okay, sure. We can do that tomorrow," the tiny Destron mumbled in compliance, trying to play off indifferent. He was failing, obviously, but Hellbat wasn't going to tell him that. "But first, I want to finish my show!"
"Alright, alright," the spy agreed, reaching back over and collecting the tablet. Leozack released his vice grip to allow the blue mech to do so, only to flop back onto his caretaker's frame as soon as he sat back down. Hellbat waited patiently as the teal jet found his comfy spot -spooned in the crook of an arm, with his cheekplate laid on part of the older flyer's chestplate- before restarting the video. Several kliks later and the segment had ended; a loading icon appeared for the next episode in the roster.
"Think you wanna-," Hellbat began, glancing down at his charge. He paused, noticing that the youngling had passed out at some point and now slumbered peacefully encircled by his arm. Optics glowing with fondness, the rafale turned off the tablet and gently tossed it further down the berth; holding Leozack tightly as he scooted down a bit to find a more comfortable position for both of them. Once settled, the blue Destron tucked the thermal sheet securely around the tiny jet, letting his servo rest easily on the small hips.
"Sweet recharge, Leo," Hellbat whispered, tapping his forehelm briefly against the tomcat's.
Then, he too, offlined for the orn.
SYCMD: Cutesy, snuggly family, ain't they~?
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?