Summary:
C-27 was a perfect example of what a Decepticon drone should be: His organization and planning were flawless, always following protocol without any problems. But that all comes crashing down on him when he gets assigned a new partner. R-58, or 'Roddie,' as he liked to call himself, was anything but organized. C-27's opposite in every way. He was, chaotic, impulsive, disregarded every protocol in the book, and downright aggravating! How was C-27 supposed to work with him?
Or, a story about how two vehicon drones were forced to work together and may have fallen for each other along the way.
Notes:
This is an enemies to reluctant partners to lovers story based on my original Vehicon characters from "Haunting the Nemesis." The lore and characterization of the vehicons are all mine except for the character Steve, who is a canon character in the Transformers Prime show.
This is an origin story, and you do NOT need to know anything about "Haunting the Nemesis" before this, especially because this took place before that series happened. This can be its own little oneshot for people to enjoy! I honestly love these two little guys so much, and I hope you do as well 3
If anyone is interested in looking into these characters, they appear in chapters 10, 11, and 14. Of "Hanting the Nemesis"
How Vehicon names work (in my universe): When they first made the vehicons, they went from A-Z and 1-50. After they continued needing to make more, the higher the numbers went. So, C-27 would be older than F-368 because C is closer to the front of the alphabet, and his number is smaller. Aka, the bigger the number and further down the alphabet they are, the younger the drone.
Story:
C-27 prided himself on maintaining a perfectly balanced work cycle. Every energon crate was meticulously cataloged, every patrol route plotted to minimize inefficiencies, and every report was submitted on time and according to protocol. Order was the foundation of survival on the Nemesis. And C-27 relied on it.
Then Roddie happened.
C-27 walked into the storage bay, datapad in servo, expecting to find routine inventory checks in progress. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of crates scattered haphazardly across the room, energon cubes stacked precariously high in some spots and toppled over in others. In the middle of it all, humming to himself, was a lone vehicon.
The younger mech was moving crates around with no discernible pattern. He paused to admire his handiwork, then promptly picked up a cube he'd just set down and moved it three feet to the left.
C-27 stopped dead in his tracks, his optics narrowing under his visor. "What do you think you're doing?"
The drone glanced up from his work, excitement filling his field when he saw C-27. "Oh, hey! I'm Roddie. Didn't expect anyone else to be in here. I was just reorganizing!"
C-27 looked on with silent horror as all of his organizing over the last week was upturned by one random mech. "Reorganized?" C-27 asked incredulously. " There's a system for these things. Protocol. You can't just… throw things around."
Roddie tilted his helm, his tone cheery. "Yeah, I know. But your system's so… boring. I thought I'd try something new! Look, if we stack the crates this way—" he gestured to a particularly wobbly tower of energon cubes, "—it makes more space over here. Cool, right?"
"Cool?" C-27 said slowly. "You think this is cool? That tower is one nudge away from collapsing and wasting precious energon! Not to mention, it's completely out of line with Decepticon storage regulations."
'Roddie' waved a servo dismissively. "Oh, come on. It'll hold." He glanced up at the sound of an ominous creak. "...Probably."
C-27's frame went rigid. "Probably?!"
"I've got this under control," 'Roddie' said. "Trust me."
C-27 muttered something under his breath about reckless rookies and stormed past 'Roddie' to begin fixing the mess himself. "This is unacceptable. Do you even know how to read a storage chart?"
"Of course I do," 'Roddie' replied, un-offended. "I just… didn't feel like it. You're so uptight, you know that? A little creativity wouldn't kill you."
"Creativity has no place in a war," C-27 shot back.
'Roddie' put a servo on his hip. "Wow, you really need to loosen up."
C-27 didn't dignify that with a response. He focused on restacking the crates, trying to ignore Roddie's running commentary about how boring his approach was. C-27 sighed and stood up straight, looking the other mech up and down. His patience was worn dangerously thin. He scanned over his frame for his serial number. "R-58, you should go on patrol now." He said.
Roddie's posture stiffened a bit when he used his official designation and not his chosen one. But he didn't comment on it. "Right… I'll do that." He said as he left through the main storage bay doors, his field reading almost… disappointed.
C-27 sighed before continuing to fix the mess the mech made. It was going to take him all cycle.
It was about a day after the storage bay incident when C-27 found himself heading to the assignment room. The storage debacle still nagged at the edge of his processor, but he pushed it aside. He had more pressing matters to attend to: meeting his new partner.
His last partner had been terminated during an Autobot raid almost a deca-cycle ago. C-27 hadn't dwelled on it. Vehicons were soldiers; expendable in this war. You can't grow attached. Partners came and went, just another cog in the machine.
The door slid open with a hiss, and he stepped inside, expecting another emotionless, rule-abiding soldier like his last one. What he saw instead made his frame tense.
Roddie.
The vehicon stood at the console, looking over the mission for the day. His EM flickered with curiosity and excitement that grated on C-27's plating. Roddie must have noticed the change in field because he turned around and waved to C-27.
"It's you," C-27 said.
"It's me." Roddie shrugged. "And it's also you." He gestured back to C-27. "Guess it's a party."
C-27 sighed. "What are you doing here, R-58?" Already dreading the answer.
Roddie suddenly stiffened, his EM field spiking with irritation. "It's actually Roddie," he corrected. "And apparently, I'm your new partner."
C-27's plating flared in exasperation. "Unbelievable. Of all the mecha on this ship, they assign me the protocol-deficient one. I'm requesting a transfer."
Roddie's field flickered more into anger and bitterness. "Yeah? Go ahead," Roddie shot back, pushing off the console and stepping closer. "You know what? I don't want to be here any more than you do. Partnered with a stuck-up mech who thinks organizing crates is fun? Yeah, No thanks." There was some hurt tinging Roddie's field, but C-27 ignored it. This was not the time for feelings.
C-27 took a step forward, his frame looming slightly over Roddie's. "I don't have time for your insubordination, R-58. This is war, not a playground."
"Then stop acting like a cranky drone and get over it," Roddie snapped.
C-27's optics flared briefly behind his visor, but he held his retort. There was no time to argue. The mission parameters had been set, and delays were unacceptable. With a low growl of frustration, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit.
"We have a mission to attend to. Let's get this over with," he muttered.
"Gladly," Roddie snapped, following after him.
C-27 stood in his berth hub. His compartment was a simple alcove, just enough space for him to stand and recharge. But right now, recharging was the furthest thing from his processor.
The mission had been a disaster. Well, not entirely—the objective had been completed, but the execution had been far from smooth. Roddie's chatter, his disregard for protocol, his reckless improvisations… it had grated on every circuit in C-27's frame. He couldn't imagine it functioning, working with such a mech for long. The transfer request had been sent the moment they returned to the Nemesis; in the report, he detailed Roddie's insubordination and lack of adherence to Decepticon standards as his reasoning for requesting transfer. He would be better off with a different partner.
Now, C-27 waited for the response, his EM field tightly controlled to mask the frustration bubbling under his plating. He let out a vented sigh, his visor dimming slightly as he leaned against the side of the berth. The sounds of pede-steps and quiet whirrs filled the room as other drones went into their berth habs.
A ping on his HUD snapped him back to attention. The response had arrived. Straightening his posture, he opened the message.
/Transfer Request: Denied./
C-27's visor flickered in surprise. He had clearly detailed every reason why he and Roddie were not a good fit for each other. He scrolled down to the reasoning Soundwave provided for the denial.
/Assessment: R-58 and C-27 compatible partners. Solution: Work out your differences./
For a moment, he simply stared at the message, his processor refusing to fully process the words. Compatible? Work out their differences? How in the Pit was he supposed to work with a mech who couldn't even follow basic orders?
His servos clenched into fists as a low growl rumbled from his vocalizer. C-27 had hoped his detailed report would have been enough to sway the communications officer, but it seemed Soundwave had other plans.
"Great," C-27 muttered, his EM field flickering with exasperation. "Just great. Now, what am I supposed to do?"
He leaned back against the wall of his berth. He glared at the message one more time. The words seemed to mock him. For a moment, he considered sending another request, but he knew it would be futile. Soundwave's decisions were final.
With a heavy sigh, he powered down his optics and tried to shove the entire situation to the back of his processor. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and with it, another cycle of enduring Roddie's insufferable presence.
The days following Soundwave's decision were tense, to say the least. C-27 avoided Roddie wherever possible, preferring to immerse himself in maintenance tasks and drills rather than confront the inevitable. But the reprieve didn't last long. Orders came down for another mission.
C-27 arrived at the hangar first. He ran a final check of his systems, ensuring every weapon and protocol was ready. The mission was a simple reconnaissance—no combat expected—but he wasn't taking any chances. He had learned quickly that Roddie's presence could turn even the simplest task into chaos.
Speak of Unicron, and he shall appear. The metal clang of rushing pede-steps echoed through the hanger, and C-27 turned to see Roddie approaching. The younger Vehicon's EM field buzzed with an almost irritatingly cheerful energy, as though he hadn't noticed or didn't care about the tension lingering between them.
"Hey there, partner!" Roddie called, his visor glowing brightly. "Ready for another grand adventure?"
C-27's optics dimmed behind his visor, his irritation barely contained. "This is a reconnaissance mission, R-58. Not a joyride. Try to remember that."
Roddie's field momentarily flashed with annoyance. "You know, you can call me Roddie. Most Cons do."
"And you can try following protocol for once. Most Cons do," C-27 shot back, turning away to focus on the task at hand.
Roddie's vocalizer grumbled. "You really know how to make a mech feel welcome."
C-27 didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he walked towards the opening of the bay and flipped into his jet transformation. "Let's just get this over with." Roddie sighed and transformed as well, both of them taking off.
/
They landed easily, with dust flying out from under their pedes. C-27 was already speaking. "We're here to gather data on abandoned mining operations. No unnecessary risks, no deviations from the plan. Is that clear?"
Roddie made a movement as if he rolled his optics under his visor and crossed his arms over his chest. "Crystal."
C-27 groaned internally but said nothing as they made it to the cave entrance. They moved in silence, with C-27 leading the way with his scanner in servo.
But quiet didn't last.
"So," Roddie began, his tone light, "how long have you been doing this whole 'strict and grumpy' thing? Feels like you've had a lot of practice."
"Focus on the mission," C-27 snapped, his EM field flaring with irritation.
"I am focusing," Roddie replied, falling into step beside him. "But there's no harm in a little conversation. Keeps things from getting too boring, you know?"
C-27 resisted the urge to vent audibly, keeping his optics fixed on the scanner. "This isn't a social outing, R-58." He said as he started noting down any useful energon readings, "Stay close," he ordered.
"I am." Roddie groaned. C-27 glanced over to see him running a servo over some of the abandoned, rusted mining equipment. C-27 rolled his optics under his visor and kept trudging forward.
They eventually reached a large alcove in the mine, and the scanner beeped. C-27 frowned, lifting it to his helm height and pointing it upwards. "There's a pocket of unstable material above us. Move carefully." He warned over his shoulder. "If we stay on the main path, it should hold."
"Should?" Roddie asked incredulously, raising an optic ridge.
"Protocol dictates we stay on the designated route." C-27 shot him a pointed look.
"Sure, if protocol says we should, then I guess it's all fine." Roddie muttered sarcastically but continued following C-27's 'path', sometimes glancing nervously up at the creaking rocks above them.
Suddenly, there was a deep rumble as the ground beneath their pedes started to shake. Both of their fields spiked anxiously. "That doesn't seem good," Roddie said.
C-27 lifted up his datapad again to scan the area around them. "It should hold. I don't think—" Suddenly, there was a defining crack, and boulders started to fall from the ceiling.
"No time for thinking," Roddie said as he grabbed onto C-27's arm and started running. He spotted a smaller tunnel that seemed somewhat more stable than the alcove they were in currently. He started running towards it.
C-27 stopped trying to pull out of Roddie's grip. "Wait, we need to follow the allowed path. Protocol indicates—" C-27 finally pulled himself free.
"— Are you kidding me right now!? C-27, we are going to die. Screw protocol!" Roddie yelled back. Turning around to face Roddie. His visor glanced up at the ceiling. His field spiked in alarm. He gripped onto C-27's chest plate and pulled him hard towards himself just as a large bolder crashed into the ground right where C-27 had been standing.
C-27 stumbled forward with the pull, taking a quick glance at the large bolder that almost offlined him. Optics wide under his visor. "Come on." Roddie continued pulling them as he ran into the non-designated cave. This time, C-27 allowed himself to be dragged.
Just as they made it into the tunnel the entrance which they had just entered through got covered in boulders. The impact of the boulders caused them to fly forward, landing hard on the ground on top of each other. Dust filled the air, and the sound of falling rock was deafening. When it finally stopped, the main path was completely buried.
C-27 groaned, pushing himself upright. His plating was scratched, but he appeared unharmed. He turned to Roddie, his visor lighting up the space around them. "You ignored my orders."
Roddie snorted, sitting up and brushing off his plating. "You're welcome, by the way. You'd be flattened right now if I hadn't."
C-27's EM field flickered with irritation. "You took an unnecessary risk—"
"And it saved your aft," Roddie cut in, standing and offering him a servo.
"That's irrelevant!" C-27 snapped, ignoring the servo and pulled himself up on his own. Roddie crossed his arms over his chest, irritation already pooling in his field. "Protocol exists for a reason. What you did was reckless and irresponsible!"
"I don't know if you were paying attention back there, but 'following protocol' would have got us killed back there!" Roddie shot back. "It lead us into a death trap, C-27! But sure, let's keep pretending the rules would've saved us." Roddie said sarcastically. "I just did what you were too stubborn to do."
C-27 hissed in frustration, his servo clenching into a fist. "You had no authority to make that decision. If something had gone wrong—"
"But it didn't ." Roddie's visor flashed.
C-27's field crackled with barely contained anger. "You're reckless, insubordinate, and completely incapable of following orders. That kind of behaviour is unacceptable in the field."
"And yet it worked," Roddie retorted, spun around, shoving against C-27's chest plate. "Maybe instead of chewing me out, you should be thanking me for saving your aft."
"I'm not thanking you for anything." C-27 stormed past Roddie, already starting down the cave tunnel, searching for an exit. "We need to find a way out."
"I thought we had to follow the path! Isn't that what protocol says?" Roddie called out after him. C-27's engine growled as he continued storming forward, ignoring the little part of his processor nagging that he really had almost offlined down here.
As he walked, he pulled out his scanner to check for more unstable ceilings. He glanced a few times back at Roddie, making sure he was still following and not off doing who knows what. Roddie's visor met C-27's glance, and he slowed down stubbornly, walking at least ten paces behind, field radiating with irritation. This was going to be a long cycle.
Roddie's helm clanged against the wall. Across from him was one of his closest friends on the Nemesis, Steve. They were assigned berth pods right across from each other and Roddie made quick friends with him. Steve even decided to give himself a designation around the same time Roddie chose his.
Steve crossed his arms over his chest plate as Roddie ranted to him. "I'm telling you, Steve," Roddie continued. Throwing a servo to the side. "He treats me like I don't have a single functioning circuit in my processor. Like I'm some clueless sparkling who's never been on a mission before!"
Steve tilted his helm. "Well, you did mess up that formation last time…"
Roddie groaned, throwing his servos up. "Not you, too! It was a split-second decision, and it worked, didn't it? But no, all C-27 sees is how I didn't do it his way. I don't get why he's so uptight!"
Steve shrugged. "That's just how those kinds of mechs are. Protocol is all they know."
"Doesn't mean he has to shove it all down my intake." Roddie rolled his optics under his visor.
/Elsewhere/
C-27 paced back and forth across the room, his EM field radiating frustration. "He's insufferable, F-368. He can't follow a simple command, let alone a proper formation!"
F-368 leaned against a stack of crates. His frame relaxed as he took a sip of his energon ration. "And you're surprised? You've been partnered with him for less than a full deca-cycle. What were you expecting? That he would change overnight?"
C-27 stopped pacing and crossed his arms. "Competence. Basic adherence to protocol. Is that too much to ask?"
/
Roddie spun around suddenly, pointing an accusatory servo in Steve's direction. "And don't get me started on how he refuses to call me Roddie! It's always 'R-58 this' and 'R-58 that.' I can't stand it! I've told him multiple times to call me Roddie."
Steve shrugged, his EM field calm as he tried to soothe his friend. "Maybe he's just old-fashioned? Or, y'know, hasn't had time to adjust. C-27 seems like the type who likes order and routine."
Roddie huffed. "There's a difference between being organized and being a stick in the exhaust port."
Steve sighed. "Have you tried telling him why you like being called Roddie?"
"Well. Not exactly." Roddie sounded sheepish.
Steve dragged a servo down his faceplate with a groan. "Then try explaining it to him. Maybe he'll understand."
/
C-27's EM field rippled with annoyance. "Soundwave denied my transfer request. He actually said we were compatible partners and should 'work out our differences.'"
F-368's optics flickered in brief amusement. "If Soundwave said it, then there's a reason."
C-27's visor dimmed slightly as he shook his helm. "I don't see it. He's reckless, unpredictable, and—"
"Creative?" F-368 interjected. "Resourceful? You've been complaining about him not following rules, but has he actually caused a mission failure?"
C-27 hesitated. "…No."
"Has he helped the missions in any way?" F-368 pressed.
C-27 paused. Processor flickering to the moment in the cave in. "Maybe... a few times."
F-368 had tilted his helm knowingly. "You know what your problem is, C-27?" F-368 said, leaning forward, "You expect everyone to be like you. Some mechs aren't built for strict rules and rigid structure. That doesn't make them useless."
C-27's EM field pulsed faintly with unease. "You're saying I should… what? Go easy on him?"
"Not exactly," F-368 replied. "Just try seeing things from his perspective. He's probably trying to prove himself in his own way."
/
"I just want him to see that I'm capable!" Roddie sighed.
/
C-27 threw his servo to the side. "I just want him to take things seriously for once!"
/
"Then try and talk to him." Both F-368 and Steve say in unison.
C-27 and Roddie made their way back from another mission, the air between them laced with tension. They both transformed in unison after they entered the landing bay. "R-58, stay in formation next time," C-27 instantly said, walking ahead of Roddie. "Your deviation could have compromised the entire mission."
Roddie's EM field flared with frustration. "It didn't, though. Everything was fine." He snapped, his steps quickening to catch up. Why was C-27 like this?
"That's not the point, R-58. Protocol exists for a reason, and you seem incapable of following it." C-27 didn't even glance back.
Roddie stopped in his tracks, his frame rigid servos clenching at his sides. Frustration finally reached a boiling point. "Stop calling me that," Roddie said firmly.
C-27 paused, finally turning to face him. "Calling you what?"
"R-58! " Roddie yelled in exasperation, throwing his servos to the side. "I'm not just some serial number. I'm Roddie. "
C-27 crossed his arms, tilting his helm. "It is your designation. That's how we're identified. That's how we function as a unit. I don't see the issue."
Roddie vented deeply before continuing. "The issue…" Roddie said slowly, "is that I don't want to be just another faceless drone! I've seen too many of us go. Just numbers erased from the database, gone like we never even existed. I chose a name because I want to be me. I want to have something that's mine, something that says, 'I mattered.'"
C-27's visor flickered, and Roddie couldn't get a read on his field. "I get it, C-27," Roddie continued anyway. "You're fine with being just another designation. And hey, that's okay. But I'm not." He gestured to himself. "I want to be recognized. I want to stand out. I want to be more than another drone going offline with no one even remembering who I was."
The words hung in the air between them. C-27 didn't say anything for a long moment. Roddie was about ready to storm out when C-27 spoke up. "…I didn't realize it mattered that much to you," he finally said.
"Well, now you do," Roddie replied, tone harsh. "I might not be perfect, and I might not follow every rule you throw at me, but I'm not giving up my name. Not for you, not for anyone."
C-27 nodded slowly. "Understood…" C-27 turned around again to leave. "...Roddie."
Roddie blinked behind his visor, surprise filling his field as he watched C-27 go. "Thanks."
It had been almost deca-cycle since Roddie and C-27 were paired up. And since C-27 started to call Roddie by his preferred designation, Roddie had slowly started to respect C-27 more. They still disagreed, squabbled, and maybe got into a few yelling matches, but they were beginning to tolerate each other more than before.
C-27 and Roddie patrolled the area, ensuring no Autobots were lurking before the Decepticons moved in to salvage a large cache of energon buried beneath the rubble of an ancient battlefield. C-27 led the way, his visor scanning any threats, while Roddie followed a few steps behind.
The field was littered with rusted scraps of metal that had been left over from many battles. Most Vehicons ignored the debris, but C-27's optics caught something unusual. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Roddie crouch down and pick up a jagged piece of scrap. Instead of discarding it, the mech slipped it into his subspace.
C-27's optics narrowed under his visor. He said nothing at first, but as they continued, Roddie repeated the action, once, then twice more. The third time was enough to make C-27 stop in his tracks.
"What are you doing?" He snapped as he spun around to face the younger mech.
Roddie jumped, startled, a piece of scrap slipping from his servos and clattering to the ground. "I, uh—" He straightened up quickly, his optics darting nervously as he tried to find the words.
C-27 crossed his arms, his field radiating disapproval. "Well? Care to explain?"
Roddie hesitated before sighing in defeat. He opened his subspace and pulled out a few of the pieces he'd collected. "I, uh… I like to collect them," he admitted, his voice quieter now.
C-27 raised an optic ridge. "Why do you need all of those? We're on a mission, Roddie. Not a scavenger hunt. You're supposed to be on task, not wasting time collecting random junk."
Roddie's shoulders sagged slightly, but he kicked at the dirt and stood his ground. "They're not junk! I… I make things out of them," he said, his voice dipping into enthusiasm. He rummaged in his subspace again and pulled out a small, unfinished figure. "See? I make little trinkets and decorations in my spare time!"
He proudly held up the creation, spinning it between his digits. The figure was made of twisted metal, shaped into the rough outline of a mech kneeling down.
"I'm still working on this one," Roddie said, his visor brightening. "But I've got a few others if you want to see—"
"We're not here for arts and crafts, Roddie." C-27 interrupted. "Focus on the mission. You can collect your scrap on your own time."
The light in Roddie's visor dimmed again. "Oh. Right. Sorry."
He slipped the figure back into his subspace and trudged after C-27, his movements stiffer than before. The silence that followed felt heavier, but C-27 pushed it aside, keeping his focus on the task ahead.
If he noticed Roddie glancing wistfully at the scrap as they passed, he didn't let it show.
/
C-27 crouched near the edge of a cliff, optics scanning the terrain below. "We'll set up a perimeter here. Stay behind me and—"
"I know, I know. Don't wander off," Roddie interrupted, rolling his optics under his visor. "You've only said it, like, every mission."
C-27 glanced back at him, his tone sharp. "And yet, you still wander off."
Roddie crossed his arms and huffed. "I don't wander off. I explore tactically."
C-27 gave him a flat look, gesturing to the terrain. "Tactical exploration doesn't mean climbing unstable cliffs or poking at unidentified Energon deposits."
Roddie shrugged, his field filling with mischievous energy. "It worked out fine last time."
"No, I worked out fine last time," C-27 shot back. "You almost caused a collapse."
"Details."
C-27 sighed in exasperation.
/
"Why do you always act like I can't handle myself?" Roddie muttered, folding his arms as he leaned against a tree.
C-27 didn't turn around. "Because you keep proving me right."
Roddie scoffed. "Name one time."
C-27 paused, then turned to face him. "The time you triggered a proximity mine because you wanted to 'see what would happen.' The time you miscalculated your jump across a gorge and had to be pulled up, that time you tried to walk on that frozen lake and fell through the ice. Should I keep going?"
Roddie glared at him but said nothing.
/
The river's current was strong, the water dark and swirling ominously.
"We can't risk flying over without being spotted by the human camp," C-27 said, scanning the riverbank. "We'll have to cross by pede."
Roddie peered at the water skeptically. "You know I'm not exactly built for swimming, right?"
"Neither am I," C-27 replied dryly. "But unless you want to call for backup and admit we couldn't handle this, we're crossing."
Roddie sighed dramatically. "Fine. But if I short-circuit, you're carrying me."
C-27 crossed his arms. "Whatever."
As they waded into the water, Roddie yelped as the current nearly swept him off his pedes. C-27 grabbed his arm, steadying him.
"Careful," C-27 said.
Roddie gave him a shaky grin. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
C-27's optics flickered with amusement. "A little."
/
The Autobots had retreated, and the energon storage was secured.
Roddie leaned against a crate, wiping dust from his frame. "Admit it, I was brilliant back there."
C-27 shook his helm but couldn't hide the faint amusement in his EM field. "You were reckless, as usual."
"Recklessly brilliant," Roddie corrected, his visor gleaming.
C-27 sighed, but there was no real annoyance in his tone. "Fine. You were… adequate."
"Was that a compliment? From you ?!" Roddie pretended to stagger in mock shock. "Mark the date. Steve will never believe this."
C-27 huffed. "Don't push your luck."
/
"You know," Roddie said quietly, his EM field calm for once, "we're not so bad as a team."
C-27 glanced at him. "…You've gotten better. More focused."
"And you've gotten less uptight," Roddie teased, though his tone was light.
There was a long pause before C-27 replied, "Maybe."
Roddie grinned, leaning back against a rock. "Guess Soundwave knew what he was doing, huh?"
C-27 didn't answer but his field flickered with something he didn't want to acknowledge.
C-27 stood in the command center waiting for Roddie to show up for their mission as usual. Roddie always seemed to be the last second to these things. Unlike C-27, who always wanted to show up early and ready for the missions. He finally heard the sounds of pede-steps coming up behind him, and he rolled his optics under his visor, turning around, ready to chew out Roddie for being almost late again. "Roddie, you're—"
The words caught in his vocalizer.
Standing in the doorway wasn't Roddie. Instead, a standard vehicon drone with polished plating and a precise stance met his gaze. "Where's Rod—" He stopped himself. "—R-58?" He finished.
The drone tilted his helm, clearly caught off guard. "Didn't you hear?"
"Hear what?" C-27's field flickered, betraying a hint of unease.
"R-58 was critically injured in the energon explosion during the Autobot raid on his mining shift last cycle. He's in the medbay until further notice."
C-27's entire frame stiffened. Why didn't he hear about this? His processor spun with the sudden information. The other drone continued holding out his servo for C-27 to take. "I'm N-640. I've been assigned as your new partner."
New partner? Were Roddie's injuries that bad? Was this switch temporary or permanent? A ping from the monitor about their mission rang through C-27's thoughts. They had a mission to get to; there was no time to dwell on this. "Understood. Let's move."
N-640 followed orders without hesitation, stayed in formation, and executed maneuvers with precision. Everything was neat, clean, and efficient.
Yet…
As they ducked behind cover to avoid Autobot blasts, C-27's optics glanced toward his new partner. Roddie would've ignored C-27's order to take the better vantage point.
Later, when N-640 waited for direction at a critical junction, C-27 found himself thinking about how Roddie would've called him out for taking so long to decide.
Even in the moments of silence, the contrast felt glaring. N-640 lacked Roddie's chatter, his humour, and the unpredictable spark that had so often driven C-27 to frustration. And yet, it was that very unpredictability that had started to feel… oddly comforting.
C-27 caught himself, irritated at his own wandering thoughts. This was exactly what he'd wanted—an obedient, regulation-following partner. But as the mission continued, the absence of Roddie's voice echoed louder than the blaster fire. C-27's processor churned with a relentless refrain. Why did he keep thinking about Roddie?
And for the first time, C-27 wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was more to a good partner than rule-following and strict adherence to protocol.
C-27 paced back and forth in the vehicon quarters, the sound of his own pedes on the floor grating on his audials. His field flickered with tension, the emotions he refused to name threatening to spill over. Why should he care? Roddie was just another partner. He's irritating, unpredictable… and sometimes funny and quick-witted. C-27 had lost many partners in the past. And Roddie wasn't even offline. He was just in the medbay.
But his processor wouldn't let it go. The image of Roddie, injured in the explosion, sitting on a medbay table, he didn't know how bad it was, what had happened, he wanted to know... C-27 finally let out a frustrated huff and straightened. He had to see Roddie for himself, just to make sure he was still online.
That was it, nothing more.
The medbay was dimly lit, and medical equipment beeped quietly in the background. Several Vehicons filled the room, some laid out on berths, others standing to the side waiting for their repairs. C-27 scanned the room until his optics landed on Roddie.
There he was, lying on a medical table with his left leg detached. Knockout was in the middle of reattaching it, his movements precise and deliberate.
"You're lucky, you know," Knockout commented, his voice flippant. "A few of the others didn't survive the explosion, which means we've got a surplus of spare parts for you."
Roddie winced, his field flickering with discomfort, but his visor glinted with a weak attempt at humour. "Glad my leg's getting recycled. Saves the Decepticons resources, right?"
Knockout snorted, not looking up from his work. "If only all of you were so economical."
C-27 stood just inside the doorway, his field flickering with emotions he didn't want to analyze. He could sense the pain radiating from Roddie's field, faint but persistent, even as the mech tried to mask it with forced humour.
He felt his servos clench involuntarily. Why did it bother him this much?
Roddie tried to keep up his banter, throwing out a few more lines that faltered halfway through. Knockout, preoccupied with his task, gave curt responses. The room was a quiet hum of machinery and subdued pain.
C-27 stared for a moment longer, then turned abruptly. His pedes echoed lightly as he walked away, his frame stiff with tension.
He didn't need to stay. He'd seen what he needed to.
Roddie was alive.
That was all that mattered.
Roddie leaned back on the medbay berth, his optics tracing the ceiling as he tried to get comfortable. The berth here was bigger than the one in the cramped communal quarters, but the atmosphere made it hard to relax. The quiet hum of the medbay surrounded him, broken occasionally by the sound of other Vehicons shuffling about.
This was the special recovery medbay quarters reserved for Vehicons recovering from surgery. Roddie knew how lucky he was to still be here. If they hadn't had the spare parts to patch him up, he'd have been deemed not worth the energon and scrapped. The thought sent a chill down his spinal struts.
He glanced at the doorway again, his field flickering faintly. C-27 still hadn't shown up.
Not that he expected him to, Roddie thought, trying to brush it off. He had been wanting to be transferred since the day we were paired up. Still, part of him had hoped. Roddie was his partner. That's supposed to mean something, right?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of pede-steps approaching. His field brightened as his friend Steve stepped into the room. "Hey, how are you doing?" He asked as he walked over.
Roddie sat up on the berth, trying not to wince as the motion sent a twinge of pain through his newly attached leg. "Fine as I can be after being blown up," he chuckled, giving a half-hearted shrug. "Thought my plating was melting off."
Steve tilted his helm. "From the way your leg looked, I think it was melted off."
Roddie huffed a laugh. "Yeah, Knockout wasn't exactly gentle about pointing that out."
The two fell into easy conversation. Steve had a way of making things feel less bleak, even if it was only for a little while.
But eventually, Steve paused, looking Roddie up and down. "What's up? You seem upset. And more than just the I got my leg blown off kind of upset."
Roddie hesitated, looking up at his friend before he sighed. Shoulders sagging. "I don't know… I guess I just… kinda hoped he'd be here. At least to check on me, you know? I mean, I am his partner, after all."
Steve let out a soft sigh. "Well, maybe he's got other things to do. You know how C-27 is with protocol."
Roddie shrugged, trying to mask the faint flicker of disappointment. "Yeah, I guess." He paused, his vents cycling slower. "But I bet he's bored without a partner again. Probably hates waiting for me to get back to duty."
Steve stiffened suddenly at that comment, his frame shifting awkwardly. "Uh… about that. He's not exactly without a partner."
Roddie straightened up. "What do you mean?" He asked slowly.
Steve hesitated before answering. "He's already been assigned someone else. One of the newer drones, N-640."
"...Oh," Roddie said quietly. Looking down at the ground. After a second a weak laugh escaped him, gesturing toward his damaged leg. "Makes sense, I guess. Can't exactly blame him. I'm out of commission for the next few cycles."
Steve didn't respond, his field flickering faintly with sympathy.
"Maybe he'll be better off with someone else anyway," Roddie added, his tone quieter. "He always wanted a different partner. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything else. At least he finally got what he wanted." His spark twinged with hurt.
Roddie knew that if the roles were reversed, he'd have been in the medbay every day, talking C-27's audial off, whether the mech liked it or not. But it was clear now that C-27 didn't see things the same way.
Steve placed a servo on Roddie's shoulder plate, giving it a light squeeze. "I'm sorry, Roddie. But hey, maybe your next partner will be a little less strict. Could be a blessing in disguise."
Roddie nodded with a half-hearted shrug. "Yeah... Maybe."
Steve stepped back and pointed to the door. "I've gotta get back; my shift's starting in a few kliks. Hang in there, okay?"
"Thanks, Steve," Roddie said, waving faintly as his friend walked out.
As the door slid shut, Roddie slumped back against the berth. He sat there for a long moment, staring silently at the door. Maybe it was for the best.
C-27 stood overseeing as energon crates were being stacked in the mine. He was supposed to be concentrating on loading the crystals, yet all he could think about was Roddie. It had been cycles since the explosion, and he hadn't heard anything definitive about his -former- partner. Whether he'd healed, or even if he had been reassigned to a new partner, or maybe if he had been even reassigned back to C-27! He didn't know.
He let out a vent of frustration as he flipped through his datapad at the energon specifications. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but protocol dictated that he shouldn't intervene unless directly ordered. Yet it wasn't enough to quell the restless feeling in his spark. Roddie would have been moved out of the medbay by now, and C-27 didn't have access to any information on where he might have been placed while he finished healing.
Movement caught his attention. His visor brightened slightly as he noticed a familiar frame carrying a crate of energon crystals to one of the carts. S-34, or Steve, as he liked to call himself. But more importantly, Roddie's closest friend.
As C-27 walked forward, he hesitated and held out his servo before shaking his helm and calling out, "Steve."
Steve turned, confusion flickering in his field before it was quickly replaced by something sharper. "What do you want?" he asked, his tone clipped, almost bitter.
C-27 hesitated again, the question forming on his vocalizer but catching before he could speak. He nearly backed out. "I just wanted to ask…" He steeled himself, forcing the words out. "How is Roddie?"
Steve's visor flared briefly, his bitterness more apparent now. "Why do you care? He's not your partner anymore."
C-27 stiffened at the aggression from the other Con. "I just… wanted to check in."
Steve crossed his arms, his plating bristling. "If you wanted to check in, you could've gone to see him yourself. You could've visited while he was hurt, instead of leaving him behind and moving on with your new partner."
C-27's field spiked with irritation, though he forced his tone to remain calm. "I didn't leave him behind."
Steve scoffed, starting to turn away. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
"I'm serious," C-27 insisted, his voice sharper now. "I didn't ask for another partner."
"Yeah? Well, that doesn't change the fact that you didn't visit him," Steve shot back. "You think he didn't notice you weren't there?"
C-27 shifted uncomfortably, his field flickering with guilt. His servos clenched at his sides before he relaxed them. "Just… where is he?" He asked, his voice quieter now.
Steve tilted his helm, hesitating. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't answer. Finally, Steve exhaled a vent and gestured vaguely. "He's in the recovery medbay. Medical Vehicon quarters 4."
C-27 gave a small nod, his frame relaxing slightly. "Thank you."
Steve didn't respond immediately. As C-27 turned to leave, Steve said, "You know, if you really care, you should show it to him."
C-27 paused at the words before turning back towards another couple of energon crates.
Roddie sat on the edge of the berth, idly tapping his digits against his new leg plating. It had been almost a week since the explosion. Other vehicons had come and gone, chatting briefly before leaving, but none of them stayed long enough to really distract him. At least Steve visited him a few times, whenever he could between shifts, that is.
Roddie was due for one last check-up from Knockout before he could be cleared to return to duty. He sighed, looking away from his servo and his new leg, but when he glanced up, he spotted a familiar frame. Roddie's optics widened.
C-27 stood in the doorway, his frame stiff as he glanced around before stepping inside. Roddie's field flickered with surprise, his first instinct to brighten at the sight of his partner. He finally came to visit! Roddie was so excited to tell… But the initial warmth suddenly faded. C-27 didn't visit him before. He didn't care. What is he doing here now? Roddie crossed his arms over his chest plate, his field snapping shut like a shield.
"Hey," C-27 said, walking over.
"Hi," Roddie replied flatly, looking off to the side.
C-27 hesitated. "How are you feeling?"
Roddie's optics narrowed under his visor. "I thought you wouldn't care. Or if you do, you have a lousy way of showing it."
"That's not—" C-27 started, but Roddie cut him off.
"I waited for you! I… didn't even know if you knew I was here. I had hoped that just no one told you, and when you found out, you would come rushing over to check on me. I know I would have." Roddie snapped, throwing his servo to the side. C-27 shifted awkwardly, his field pulling back into his frame.
"But then again, you wanted a different partner since the beginning, right? Maybe this was your chance to get rid of me. You didn't care. You didn't care about your last partner either. You probably would have wanted me to offline down there." Roddie spat, his plating bristling. "I don't know why you decided to show up now. But for whatever reason, it's not worth it."
"Roddie, I—" C-27 started.
"How did you even find me?"
C-27 paused before answering. "I asked Steve—"
"Steve put you up to this?!" Roddie questioned in outrage. Did Steve really feel so bad about all of Roddie's moping that he went and asked C-27 to check on him? Did he, what, guilt C-27 into visiting? Roddie felt betrayal growing in his field. If C-27 was only here because he was told to…
C-27's field wavered, a mix of frustration and unease rippling through him. "No, I wanted to find out where you are and asked him. He didn't put me up to anything. That's not why I'm here."
Roddie scoffed. "Oh, right. So you felt guilty or something? Felt bad that you never checked to see if your partner was even still online? Well here I am, fine, and healing without you! So if you're done, maybe you should go back to your new partner. And I guess you'll never have to deal with my recklessness or lack of protocol again." Roddie's engine rumbled.
C-27's frame stiffened, his field spiking with anger and irritation. "Good. I don't need you anyway! You were a liability on the battlefield, and I'm glad I have a new partner. Now, I don't have to deal with you ever again."
Roddie froze, the bitterness in his spark twisting into something sharper. He forced his voice to stay even, though it was thick with hurt. "You should leave, C-27. Have a good life with N-640. You deserve a mech like him."
For a moment, the silence was deafening. C-27's visor flickered, his field rippling with what almost felt like regret. He lifted a servo as if to say something, but the words never came. With a sharp turn, he stormed out of the medbay.
All optics in the room stared at him as he left.
Roddie sat back, his frame slumping, anger rippling under his plating. His gaze fell to his servos, which were clenched tightly to the berth. He didn't even notice Knockout standing next to him until the medic spoke.
"You two really know how to light up a room," Knockout drawled. Roddie didn't reply. Knockout sighed, stepping closer with his scanner in his servo. "Let's get this check-up over with so you can brood somewhere else, hmm?"
Roddie gave a weak nod, his thoughts still spinning as the medic began his work.
C-27 stormed through the Nemesis corridors, his pedes hitting the floor with sharp, deliberate steps. His field crackled with agitation, a stark contrast to the usual calm presence he prided himself on. His servos clenched at his sides as memories of the confrontation replayed in his processor, each word stinging more than the last. Why did he blow up like that? He didn't mean those words… did he?
He was supposed to be the one who stayed composed, the one who followed protocol and set an example. But Roddie's accusations… they hurt. C-27 never wanted Roddie to offline. How could the mech even think that of him? Sure, C-27 may have wanted a new partner at the beginning. But now… he could work well with Roddie. He almost… liked the way Roddie made rash decisions. And chattered about his favourite things and sent C-27 little comm updates about the wildlife he came across on the mission.
And now Roddie hated him. C-27's frustration melted away into guilt. He shouldn't have said those things. He shouldn't have let his frustration get the better of him. Roddie had been injured, and instead of showing concern, C-27 had just confirmed all of Roddie's thoughts about him.
Roddie's words echoed in his processor. "You probably would have wanted me to offline down there." He felt despair rise in his field. He didn't want Roddie gone. He never did. But he'd let his pride, his frustrations, and his own inability to process his emotions get in the way.
And now? Now Roddie thought he didn't care. That he didn't need him.
His guilt deepened, wrapping around his spark like chains. C-27 had always been a rule follower, someone who believed actions spoke louder than words. But his actions had pushed Roddie away.
He pressed his helm against the wall. "I messed up," he muttered to himself, his field pulsing with regret. "I really messed up."
C-27 paced back and forth in the small maintenance bay, his field a chaotic mess of frustration and guilt. He vented heavily, his servos occasionally gesturing sharply as he ranted.
"I don't know how to make it up to him!" C-27 groaned, throwing his servos into the air. "I ruined everything. I was so stupid."
F-368, seated on a crate nearby, watched the spectacle. "If words aren't working, Why not get him something personal? Like a gift?"
C-27 froze mid-step, turning to F-368 with a mix of confusion. "A gift?"
"Yes, a gift," F-368 repeated, sounding almost exasperated with C-27's antics. The mech had had to deal with C-27's moping and complaining for the last two cycles, and it was getting on his nerves. "Get him something meaningful, something to show that you have been paying attention to him. Or you could also just mech up and try and talk to him again."
"You heard how that worked out last time!" C-27 groaned, dragging his servos down his faceplate. "And I don't even know what he likes!"
F-368 raised an optic ridge. "You were his partner for almost seven Earth months, and you don't know what he likes?" he asked incredulously.
C-27 huffed, throwing his arms out to his sides. "I'm not good at this kind of stuff, F-368. I just…" He trailed off, his frame sagging as he dropped onto the crate next to him and put his helm in his servos. "I don't know what I'm doing."
F-368 sighed, pushing himself off the crate and walking over to C-27. He placed a servo on the mech's shoulder. "Look, I know you, C-27. You never once cared about your partners like this in the past. And the fact that you're even trying to mend this shows that you care. Just… try something."
C-27 groaned again. Wracking his processor for something that could help. Then he got it. "He likes to build things," he muttered after a moment. "Little figures. I've seen him work on them during downtime. I could find him some scrap for them!"
F-368's visor brightened. "See? That's a good place to start. It shows you're paying attention, at least."
C-27 nodded, but his field still flickered with uncertainty. "But what if it's not enough? What if he still thinks I don't care?"
"Then you also apologize," F-368 said, crossing his arms.
"Apologize? Isn't the gift the apology?" C-27 asked.
F-368 let out a long suffering sigh. "C-27. Come on, you know better than that. A gift is a gesture, sure, but words matter too. You need to let him know you were wrong. Own up to it. That's the part that actually means something." C-27's frame tensed as he processed F-368's advice. He didn't like admitting he was wrong. It went against every instinct he had as a by-the-book Vehicon. But deep down, he knew F-368 was right.
"Fine," he muttered, his tone begrudging but determined. "I'll do it. I'll… get him something he can use for his projects. And I'll apologize."
"There you go," F-368 said, clapping him on the back. "See? You're getting it. Now stop moping and start planning."
C-27 vented heavily but stood up, his frame straightening with purpose. It was time to find some scrap.
C-27 spent the last five solar cycles flying out on his off-time after his shifts and searching for little pieces of scrap. He would spot them on his scanner, transform, and land, sifting through the dirt and Earth debris until he found each piece. He would then turn it over in his servo and inspect it to make sure it was up to his standards for Roddie before placing it in his subspace. C-27 even found himself forgoing recharge, tirelessly searching for enough scrap, seeing as it was the only time he wasn't on shift. He needed to make this up to Roddie.
One night, he landed on an abandoned beach. A green flash of light snagged his optic, and he gently lifted it out of the sand. It was an intricate green gem. He looked it over; it was beautiful. The red glow of his visor reflected back at him in almost a thousand different directions of light. He shifted it in his servo. Roddie would like this one for sure.
Every cycle, he would bring the trinkets back and place them in a box hidden in his berth pod, slowly sliding the box behind the door so that no one could see it. He opened the box to glance inside. It was filled with vibrant, shiny pieces, intricate shapes, and even a few fragments that reminded him of the figure Roddie had shown him all those months ago.
C-27 lifted the box and placed it gently in his subspace as he made his way down the nemesis corridors to look for Roddie. Roddie's quarters were in a different block than his own, and it took him longer than expected to track the mech down. Finally, he spotted Roddie down one of the halls.
"Roddie," C-27 called, his voice steady despite the tightness in his spark.
Roddie stopped, his field clamping shut when he saw who it was. "What do you want?"
"I… I need to talk to you." C-27 gestured for him to follow, and after a moment of hesitation, Roddie relented, stepping aside to an empty storage room with him.
The moment the door slid shut, C-27's field flickered with unease. He vented a deep sigh and reached into his subspace, pulling out a box carefully packed with the scrap he'd spent cycles collecting. "I wanted to give you this," C-27 said, holding the box out to him.
Roddie blinked, his optics flicking between the box and C-27. "What is this?"
"I remember… back during that mission, you showed me one of your figures." C-27 said softly. "I didn't really listen to you then, and I've regretted it ever since. I… I thought this might help."
Roddie took the box hesitantly, and C-27 shifted awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Roddie," he began. "For everything I said. I never wanted you gone. I was angry and overwhelmed, but that's no excuse. I didn't mean any of it. I… I didn't want to lose you, and I didn't know how to deal with what happened."
"-I should have told you sooner. I should have been a better partner. You didn't deserve what I said to you, and I… I hope this can be a start. To make things right." C-27's field flickered nervously with guilt and hope.
Roddie stared at him, just holding the box. Not knowing what to say.
C-27 took a step back, his own field radiating uncertainty. "I just… I hope you can use it. For your projects." He hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to say more, then turned and left the room.
Roddie stood frozen in place, watching him go. C-27 just hoped that it wasn't a mistake.
Roddie stared at the box in his servos, the weight of it grounding him as he processed what had just happened. C-27… had apologized—not just with words but with this.
He carried the box back to his berth pod, placing it carefully on the surface next to him. The lid came off slowly, revealing the contents inside.
The dull light of his quarters reflected off a dozen different pieces of scrap, each one gleaming with polished edges or intricate shapes.
Roddie froze, optics wide.
Where did he get all of these? He must have spent cycles finding all of them. He remembered that Roddie liked to build things. C-27 had gone out of his way to gather these for him.
Roddie reached into the box, his servos brushing over the variety of scraps. There were delicate spirals of wire, shards that caught the light like prisms, and jagged, metallic shapes that were almost artistic in their randomness. Each piece was unique, as if C-27 had spent time considering every fragment he picked up.
One by one, Roddie lifted them, turning them over in his servos. Then he spotted it. A beautiful green crystal, his spark fluttered as he looked into it… It was beautiful. He carefully lifted the gem to his optic height. It must have taken solar cycles to gather this many pieces. And to find ones this perfect? Roddie couldn't imagine the effort it had taken.
His spark fluttered with a mix of emotions he couldn't fully sort through. Guilt, for how he'd felt toward C-27 after their fight. Disbelief that someone as stern and by-the-book as C-27 would go so far out of his way for this.
Roddie looked up at the door, a small smile spreading behind his face mask.
C-27 leaned against his berth pod. His servos clenched so tightly that the metal creaked under the strain. His processor looped through the events of the last few cycles.
Roddie still hates him.
The thought stabbed deeper than it had any right to. He'd put in so much effort—every spare moment spent scouring for scrap, for pieces that he knew Roddie would like. But it didn't matter. Of course it didn't. Why did he think that would fix things?
C-27 let his helm fall into his servos, venting in frustration. He couldn't get the image of Roddie's stunned, silent expression out of his mind. He'd hoped for… what, exactly? Forgiveness? Understanding? Maybe even the faintest spark of acknowledgment that he cared? But instead, Roddie had just stood there.
The silence had been worse than anger. He groaned, dragging his servos down his faceplate. "I'm such an idiot."
The gift had seemed like a good idea at the time. A way to show he was sorry. A way to prove that he hadn't meant the things he'd said, that he didn't want Roddie gone. But now, sitting here in the dim glow of his quarters, the whole thing felt embarrassingly naive.
"What was I thinking?" he muttered to himself. "Like a box of scrap and a half-sparked apology would magically fix everything."
The room felt oppressively quiet, the absence of Roddie's chatter more noticeable than ever. Roddie. Enthusiastic, unconventional, and full of energy that C-27 had once found irritating, but now… now he couldn't imagine being without it.
C-27 clenched his fists, helm hanging lower. "I really did ruin everything."
Roddie spent cycles on his newest trinket, forgoing recharge to stay up and put it together in his cramped berth pod, his visor the only light for him to see. It had to be perfect. C-27 had worked so hard on his gift, and it was now time for Roddie to return the favour.
Now Roddie carried the small trinket clutched delicately in his servos as he searched for C-27. He had to be here somewhere. Roddie remembered the Vehicon's uptight schedule and exactly where he would be before and after his shift. Sure enough, right on time, Roddie spotted C-27 walking through one of the hallways.
Roddie hesitated, spark hammering. What if this was a mistake? What if… No. He has to do this. He took a deep vent and stepped forward. "C-27!"
C-27's helm jerked up at the sound of his name, looking up from his datapad. His optics locked onto Roddie for only a moment before he began to turn away.
"Wait!" Roddie called out. C-27 paused, back still to Roddie, his frame tense.
Roddie rushed forward. C-27 didn't say anything and simply stared at Roddie for a good long moment. Now or never. Roddie shut his optics as he held out both servos towards C-27, his trinket neatly placed in them. "I'm sorry for being mad at you. I know you didn't mean it. And I didn't mean anything I said either. I hope you can forgive me." Roddie blurted out.
For a moment, there was only silence. Roddie's spark pounded as he stood there, optics squeezed shut, the weight of the small object in his servos suddenly feeling crushing.
The sound of soft pede-steps broke the silence. Roddie slowly opened his optics to see C-27 standing directly in front of him, his visor fixed on the trinket.
Roddie had poured so much into this, using not only the scrap C-27 had collected for him but also some of his most prized pieces—some he had been saving for decacycles. The beautiful green gem was in the middle, and intricate pieces of wire and scrap wrapped around it made it look almost like a pendant.
C-27 didn't say anything.
Roddie's spark sank, and his frame started to shrink in on itself. His shoulders sagged, and he lowered his servos slightly. "Of course," he mumbled, the words barely audible. "Of course, you don't care about my stupid gift. You don't like this kind of stuff. I shouldn't have…" He began to back away, clutching the trinket in his servo tightly. "Sorry, I didn't—"
Before he could finish, C-27's servo shot out, grabbing his arm, pulling Roddie forward and holding him close to his frame. One servo pulled around Roddie's back and the other over Roddie's shoulder. Roddie froze at the action, but C-27 held him tight. Roddie's spark ached. He was suddenly falling into the embrace as well, careful not to crush the gift in his servo.
C-27 slowly pulled back and pressed his forehelm against Roddie's. "I love it." C-27 finally said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Really?" Roddie asked, unsure.
"Of course." C-27 nuzzled closer.
"I know I haven't been the best partner," Roddie mumbled, his voice muffled against C-27's frame. "But I can be better. If you'll have me back."
C-27 pulled back just enough to meet Roddie's optics. "Roddie, you are the perfect partner for me. I would never hope for anyone else. If you'll have me back, that is."
Roddie felt his spark flutter at the thought of being back together. He gave a small, shaky laugh, optics flickering with emotion. "Yes."
For the first time in cycles, everything felt right.
Soundwave easily resigned Roddie and C-27 back together the next cycle. It was about time they got over themselves and got back together.
Authors notes:
Beta Read by Arvensia.
I hope you like it! It was my first ever romantic-based fic! I worked so hard on it, and I am in love with these two little fellas! I added a lot to the Vehicon lore, and I hope it wasn't too confusing! Soundwave is such a matchmaker lmao; he knows what he is doing.
If anyone wants to use my characters, you are more than welcome to! I just ask that you mention me as the original creator! 3
Thanks again, everyone, for your support! I hope you have a wonderful rest of your week, and I hope to see you again soon! :D
Roddie and C-27 First appearance was in "Adventures of the Decepticons' Pet Ghost" Chapter 8