Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At long last, today was the day; the one that’d so far sounded worse to him on paper than in practice. Various aromas wafted about the air from the vendors that lined the same street as the parade. A carefully-organized menagerie of different colors and costumes and dances and music. Dabbing at what little sweat had already begun to accumulate on his forehead with a handkerchief, he smiled as they sang and laughed their way toward the main stage. The flags and ribbons all around him fluttered very gently in a cool breeze. Now that he had a moment to stop and think he supposed the symposium directors couldn’t have agreed on a better day, even if they tried. This way his sons could enjoy themselves for the first time in what had to feel like forever. 

Bisecting the row of chairs at which he and the various other speakers seated themselves in order was the podium, adorned with delicate ribbons and the crest of the United Nations’ very own “international science division” (itself the subject of controversy in the past few weeks); an oaken blight on the inviting backdrop of white and other colors that were much easier on the eyes. As the tenth hour of the day arrived a whole slew of people from media outlets anywhere and everywhere had gathered very loosely into a crowd, between them and the living breathing mass too busy having fun to keep track of the time. It wouldn’t be long before the chief scientist announced the beginning of the first annual world energy symposium, and he’d be up there—giving his first speech since…

Well.

“If you ask me, there are much more interesting things to report on!”

One such member of the media caught his eye the second he looked up from shuffling around papers; but to be fair, her press badge did flash rather obnoxiously in the sun. Almost twenty years to this day passed since he’d found the love of his life and forbid himself from ever looking at another woman again, much less thinking about one, and yet here he was wondering if the shame was his wife’s or his own. At least the young woman insisted on dressing rather nicely, even as she elbowed her way through the competition for a spot right up front. It took him a minute to become aware of the scraggly young man on her heels, with a headset and camera still in its bag, that is, until she’d argued them up enough room to breathe.

“And who’s asking you?” smiled the camera man, who moved to set up in a way that was surprisingly efficient—as though rehearsed more times this week alone than every other week of the year. 

“Very funny.”

Unlike the reporter, he made no effort to dress for the occasion; that was the first time the doctor had seen a letterman jacket in quite some time, in this city too busy daydreaming of the future to even acknowledge the past. He didn’t dig through his bag any more than he needed to, his hand darting into the depths and popping back out with something familiar to her clutched between his fingers; she snatched it away from him with the ferocity of a girl stealing her teddy bear back from her brother. Were all microphones used by credible news stations wireless these days? The doctor knew he spent way too much time in his lab or locked in his office at home but…he couldn’t possibly be that disconnected from greater Society, right? Oh boy. Yet another thing to lay awake worrying about at night. He made a note to put his wandering mind on a tighter leash. 

A gust of wind that knew no manners tried to rip the papers on which he’d written his speech from his hands; the unmistakable jerk just enough to finally reel in his tether to reality, how ever cruel and unforgiving it proved to be time and time again. The world needed him, after all… his world needed him. 

Once he’d sorted them back into the order they were written and rolled fresh off the printer in, he kept himself on a better track rehearsing the lines. Those lines. The funny ones he wasn’t sure of until there were no choices other than to improvise, because he never fancied himself much of a talker and probably never would. A little embarrassing, yes, but his work preferred to speak for itself anyway.

From the line of reporters emerged yet another man, older, just as worn down by age as he was with bottles of water for the three of them. A utility belt, designed exactly for this profession, fastened around his waist. With well-maintained grey hair and an exasperated smile, he handed the refreshment off to his coworkers and got to work giving them an idea of what to do by gesturing to the symposium centerpiece. The reporter nodded, and as they waited somewhat impatiently for the next fifteen minutes they continued to tease each other.

Even displays as spectacular as this one had to fizzle away at one point or another; the coalescence of dancers, singers, and audience members spilling out into the surrounding streets that were more sparsely populated by vendors and breathing with the sort of distinct buzz you couldn't ignore, musicians and choir seizing the opportunity to rest between performances.

The very first of his esteemed-cohorts to return to their aisle were the ones seated on his left, right at his four. Letters etched into the red velvet of the chairs with careful precision and golden thread read G. Bandemer, A. Farrenkopf. He supposed memorizing them would've been the polite thing to do, instead of fretting over something as unpredictable as presentation let alone the irrelevant details that came with it.

"Bonjour! Tu dois être l'homme du japon!"

An infinite sea of golden curls sparkling in the sun consumed his vision, fruity perfume way too fruity to considered sensible in any capacity flooded his nostrils, and the voice of the heavens right in his ear—he had to catch himself on the lip of the table to keep from falling backward and away from what ever unholy creature chose to invade his personal space right here, right now. 

"...p-pardon?"

The entire wall of yellow cleared his vision in a slow-motion blur that returned to him his ability to see and smell as he clung rather dramatically to the safety the table meekly offered.
Now teetering on the edge of Bandemer's chair, he met the woman's wide silver eyes before he met anything else; the kind he read about in magazines or books from time-to-time but never imagined he'd get to see himself, so captivating he almost missed that hard-to-forget hair of hers. Strands so carefully brushed and curled and teased with enough premium hairspace to knock him right out of his shoes. This must've been her. Bandemer.

"I do apologize for my friend here's complete lack of etiquette!" Holding her up by the collar of her daisy yellow suit jacket, a tall gentleman loomed over both of them. He himself wearing a much gloomier charcoal suit and inoffensive dark blue tie, complete with a wrist watch and grey hair despite not having very many wrinkles to show for it. "You'd think as a proud representative of France she would be far more conscientious." 

"I haven't gotten to go abroad in years, Albrecht, give me a break!" Ah, there it was. A language he understood. She batted a hand at him until he let go with a dramatic sigh and plopped down into his seat on the other side of her. Must be Farrenkopf. "I'm terribly sorry, mon cher, you must be the man from Japan! I've read all about your work, it is very nice to meet you. My name is Gisele." Together, they tucked themselves into the satin table cloth. As Albrecht got to work digging his own set of papers from a leather briefcase, Gisele turned to the doctor and offered him her hand with a delicate smile.

"N-No, its alright." He shook it more as an obligation than because he wanted to.

"Shun."

Confined to a jungle of wet cement and dusty brick walls and swallowed whole by the shadows lurking within it, she couldn’t help but feel...cut off from space time, excluded, cast out even as clouds floated by lazily and the sun shimmied across the sky at a different angle than she was used to.

From here she could, with a smile more or less for show, watch the doctor fidget nervously in his seat as he chattered with his new friend and chuckle about it. The doctor; the first and so far the only human to treat her with kindness. She wasn’t keen on gambling with any other. All the nights spent writing and rewriting the same paragraphs over and over again she had the pleasure of witnessing, but as he worked she asked the sort of questions that were miles outside any known box. It was nice, in a way, explaining to her just what science was and how it worked and how putting a pen to paper separated man from beast. Humans never ceased to fascinate her, that was, until the day the doctor gently reminded her she was a human too. Maybe not “human” in the traditional sense, but flesh and blood all the same - the circuitry hidden beneath made no substantial difference. She had a heart with a beat. Thoughts. Emotions. A nice smile and a gentle laugh. Another day, he left a note on the fridge written in beautiful cursive - you’re human, but you’re also you. Never forget that, Hotaru; individuality is your strength, not your weakness. 

How ever much she hated being in this place, surrounded by all these…people, she was here to support him but even then she couldn’t help wondering if and when she’d meet those boys with whom they shared the house just a tad too big for the two of them alone. His sons...“Shinichi” and “Koji”. Pictures of them hung up on the wall with their names written on the back, pictures of a strange woman, handwriting she didn't recognize. Did they even know she was there, spending most of her days in the basement, like a bird locked away in a cage? If they seen her, would they love her? Or would they be afraid of her, just as she was afraid of herself? A mess of jet black hair and pallid skin and wires and worn metal. Who condemns a being to such an existence? An abomination not bound by any earthly laws of creation, her steely gaze remained fixed on the doctor; the only thing that existed outside her mind.

The only thing that mattered.

She need only clear her throat once. “-Reporting live from the first international scientific symposium in New York City, truly a groundbreaking event! On this lovely day, scientists from all over the globe, specialists in the fields of energy and the environment, have gathered here today to share their research and work together for the betterment of all mankind." Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a firm smile, she turned her head in their direction. “The first speaker for today will be Doctor Shun Fukuhara, the world’s foremost archaeologist and Japan's expert on the development and use of natural resources.”

He was never tall in the real sense; just tall enough to get picked on by the other boys all throughout high school and his first year in college. Generous dabs of white popped out from the burnt brunette of his hair that refused to cooperate no matter how many times he brushed it. He wore his white lab coat more often than anything else, though he devoted a considerable amount of time to making sure it never lost its color, and together with the 12 o' clock shadows under his eyes and single wrinkle in his left brow he stuck out from his more...well-groomed colleagues like a sore thumb. He rose from his seat, pinched the pile of papers between his thumb and forefinger, and shuffled his way toward the podium, "G-Good evening, all." Great. Nothing says 'I went to college for six years and spent another ten advancing my career'  better than stammering. He regarded the crowd for a brief moment before allowing his gaze to wonder upward. In the distance, a dark spec you'd have to squint to see loomed. 

Another minute or so of awkward silence and confused murmuring from everyone in attendance dedicated to watching this strange...thing went by, he blinked, and it was just a tad bit bigger. A little more noticeable. Shun squinted. Could that be some trick of the light? His imagination, maybe? But one pair of eyes wouldn’t be enough to warn at least a thousand more. Wings shaped by millennia of war already tearing through the oxygen-rich air of this planet so pathetic in comparison to just about every other that crossed his line of sight before their inevitable destruction; that was it, the only thing it had in common with them. Death. Destruction. Just another small price to pay for utopia. 

Those poor skyscrapers never stood a chance, crumpling like foil beneath the pressure of the jet boosters whose flame spat out heat hotter than the sun. A place like this, so cramped and unaccommodating to a mech of his size was not his first choice, that was certain, but it wouldn’t take him very long to find the insect he was looking for and return, at last, to the corpse of the Megastar.  

Big enough and fast enough to shatter everything around him, leaving behind a glorious downpour of glass and other debris in his wake. A dragon. A big...metal dragon, but whatever his species he was a bastard all the same. 

When he finally speaks, after situating himself so high over their heads they’re enveloped in the shadow of his greatness, his voice is like the scrape of steam through a break in a pipe, or talons along a shiny steel wall. Authoritative, trill, raspy only at its edges. 

“Ah, yes, hello doctor . I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your impressive display of consideration for your fellow bugs but at the same time…there are more important matters for you to attend to.”

- To Be Continued... -

Author's Note :: As much as I'd like to write a speech thanking my mother and my father and my brother, I'm running a good two weeks behind the deadline I set for myself and don't feel like writing another two paragraphs of stuff that isn't even true - even though I'm sure y'all would love to read it :P (teasing of course!) Do forgive my bluntness, loves, I'm one of those "honest-to-a-fault" people lmao

But in all seriousness, I'm by no means new to the fanfiction writing scene. I AM new, however, to actually writing (or outlining, or drafting, or revising) an entire fic. I'd even say its been a good five years since my last attempts which were both, by themselves, just first chapters with no editing whatsoever. Wooooahhhh boy, so this is my first serious project I've been working on for the past couple months and wouldn't you know it? It's for the underdog of the transformers universe itself, Car Robots~

Now I'll be honest with y'all, I love this dumb show in all of its goofy glory. Yes, I love Prime, Yes, I love Animated and Armada and MTMTE and whatnot, but this was one of my first introductions to the franchise (behind G1, wayyy back when it aired on the Hub). I loved that shiny anime art style, still do, and the voice acting is not that bad once you get past the whole "they're digimon voice actors, harold" thing. I'm also a big fan of OCs, OCXCanon, and rewrites, all that good nonsense so it only seemed natural I do a slightly-darker approach to the show but with all my babies running around and a plot that's a tad bit more profound. With everything that's going on in the world, I figured now's a good time to finally sit down and put my mighty pen to paper. Before you go flaming me in the comments, just know I'm here to have fun and all that jazz SO, that being said, good vibes only.

✌️

If you read and accepted the terms and conditions and you are 100% on board, then...I'm glad you're here and you'd better prepare for one wacky ride because from now on we update every monday and every friday. Peace~ 3 3 3

Chapter Text

As much as he respected his father's line of work - or, what he knew it to be, anyway - waking up to an empty house never ceased to cast a long shadow over his day. Shinichi lost count of the darkened days somewhere in second grade. Mom wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, would she? Dad worked the same job as her, didn't he? Then why couldn't he come home as much as she did? Not enough time had passed for him to forget all those sleepless nights spent staring out the window at the crystal clear moon that always seemed to hang just a tad bit too low in the sky of their backyard, and the glimmering stars spattered all around it. That same crystal clear moon bathed him in an indigo ghost of its pale light, persistent, even as the warm glow of the sun loomed threateningly on the distant horizon.

He woke up to a familiar blanket of heavy silence smothering him, whispering in his ear, taunting him. Most days he took his time crawling out from under it but today was especially important; so much so he sat up the second his tired eyes opened, clambered out from bed, and darted across the hall to his little brother's room where the backlit silhouettes of dinosaurs danced along the walls.

"Koj?" He gently, but of course firmly, shook the sleeping form of Koji. "Koj, hey! Wake up, today's the day!"

...Chapter 2:

" Battle Protocol ."

Out of everyone in attendance—at least a thousand or so people too busy staring, taking cover, or running away to care anymore, Shun found himself frozen in place, like some kind of fool, right there at the center of the stage and pinned beneath the sour gaze of the metal beast before him. Almost too scared to blink or to breathe, let alone speak when things vaguely resembling words finally came to him. "W-Who are you?" They left his lips in a whisper, at first. "W-What are you…? Wh-" Could this have been some kind of hallucination, or a dream, perhaps?

"I did not come here to hear you babble, of that you can be certain."

"Megatron terrorize!" Not that that ancient code collecting dust on the shelves of his processor was necessary, of course, but it'd been so long since he struck fear into the hearts of lesser beings he wouldn't dare pass up the opportunity; after all, these pitiful, fleshy creatures were no different than those that came before them or the ones that would surely come after. Even one as wise and as intelligent as the doctor couldn't seem to keep up with the clicking and hissing and shifting of cybersteel that ensued until the dragon already morphed into a form his brain could more readily register as humanoid. Megatron's proud, razor-sharp wings tucked themselves inward now that they were no longer in use and he hovered there impervious to the pull of the planet's gravity. "Oh, no, I am here for something more important." He ignored Shun's mesmerized stare and began scanning the panicking and frightened faces of every last human in the vicinity for one in particular.

One he did not find.

"Where is the girl?"

"I…I don't know what you're talking about."

Shun's relatively put-together features slowly but surely contorted in total disbelief, right as Megatron's mighty frame tensed up just enough for him to notice. "You can't hide her forever I'm afraid, so even if you refuse to tell me I can simply pry her location from your mind. Please do not make me resort to such…barbaric means." The warlord threatened rather calmly; like it wasn't one of the worse ones he'd ever made.

What he looked and did find, however: quite the runt of a boy making his way to a clearing, on a path only loosely defined by rubble. Even more pitiful a being, but in the spitting image of the doctor and either the bravest or the most foolish of his kind. Dressed in a blue and yellow shacket, he skidded to a halt halfway between them and looked Megatron right in the optic. Very few in his life cycle had done so, and even fewer lived to tell the tale. How interesting. "H-Hey! You! Freakshow!" spat Shinichi, in a tone Shun never thought he'd hear, but what would the doctor far more invested in his science projects than his own son know? "Leave my dad alone!" Of course, it wasn't until he'd already spoken that the boy realized just how much he doubted his own words and, even more so, the regret they left in their wake.

That split second of silent remorse that ensued was all Megatron needed to deliberate on a decision. "Perhaps this will motivate you, doctor." His wings unfurled and forward he lunged in a blur of black and purple, with an outstretched hand that made Shinichi feel like a mouse, the fingers terminating in razor sharp tips that glinted menacingly in the sunlight but he was old enough to understand what he'd gotten himself into. So he braced as a cloud of dust swirled over them both.

...They'd never been very close, him and Prime, even if they'd known each other for millennia he never failed to best him despite the stark difference in their abilities. Logically speaking, this victory should've been a swift one executed in the millennia that surely had passed since he left Cybertron and the foolish Optimus followed right on his heels. He was one step ahead every time, no matter how high the calculated chances of success were in any given battle scenario. There was always something the tyrant missed - or an absurd detail Scorponok or Sky-Byte failed to notice regardless of how many times they looked at the same things, how many revisions they went through, how many deviations they planned for. The two sides have fought across a whole slew of planets and planetoids and stars only loosely similar to one another, leaving behind the scars of war after one side was defeated and fled in search of another battleground. The outcome never changed. Maybe this was just a battle of the egos, waged by fools; it didn't matter if Megatron took his orders from Instinct or from the council or he issued them himself, it didn't matter how tall or fierce he stood or how many alternate modes he had, maybe he was just another among them.

Right as his hydraulics whined and his digits finally began to close around the fragile form of Shinichi, the bleeding building from which smoke billowed right behind him exploded in a spectacular display of glass and dirt and flame. Cutting through it all like it was nothing, a hot knife through butter, is a bright red form he's familiar with but doesn't fully recognize until it's too late. Too late to ask questions, too late to wonder. By then it's already collided with him and sent him flying forward into the structure directly across the narrow street.

Scrap.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find you here, Megatron?" Optimus forced a dry amusement through the exhaustion lingering in his voice, landing on his pedes and acknowledging the boy rigid with fear on the ground below. Shinichi wasn't even sure if he wanted to run to his father anymore, because he is old enough now he doesn't really need to. The two regard each other with an intense stare...but it isn't hostile the way Megatron's was, the way he expected it to be. Even so he wasted no time snapping himself out of it when said mech began to stir, and focus on trying to get somewhere safe out of the way until he could at least get some grasp on just what was happening.

"Don't flatter yourself, Prime," growled the tyrant, the kind of growl that's low in the throat. Grunting and shifting the entirety of his weight to his arms, just so he can push himself up and out of the hole in the concrete and steel and steady himself on the lip before he hit the ground, he used it to stand back up. The two mechanical beings glared daggers at one another, even if they looked similar in the most nebulous way with the only commonality being their edges - straight in some places, sharp in others. One that looked like it crawled out of a black hole and the other out of some movie. One towering over them, over he, and his father, and the strange girl who peered from around the corner of the alleyway halfway down the block, with wings, and fangs, and talons - the other also towering, but not as high. Shorter. A little stockier. Devoid of any of those things, he was alot less threatening. It was this one Shinichi's fascinated gaze kept returning to, even as he shuffled his way through all of the debris.

"But it wouldn't be very polite of me if I didn't reward your efforts, now would it?" and so, Megatron frowned. What a nuisance. "Rise, Predacons!"

Now; the predacon ground squadron wasn't much compared to Megatron's fearsome army of the past, but wherever he went, they'd always be right behind him. Like any good soldiers; even without the appropriate orders, of course, and even on a mushy mudball of a planet like this where the smell of the air and the ground were always assaulting their olfactory sensors. Creeping along the shadows once they entered the city limits was easy enough. Darkscream managed to find an awning halfway up a building to hide on in the iterum, while Slapper darted down a side street and made himself as small and as unremarkable to the disgusting fleshlings as possible and Gas Skunk, it seemed, only had to hide himself in a comfy corner of a dumpster - not that he minded, either. Perilclaw was the last to find a hiding spot, but of course it was only a matter of time before she climbed up the side of a concrete fence and plopped down at the top; surely no one would even think to question the sight of a giant feline taking a nap in the shade despite the chaos erupting all around.

Needless to say, the four of them took alot of pride in being predacons; prospective masters of the universe, of power, of destruction. They glowed with it in their optics and in their fur as they darted out from their respective hiding spaces, mechanical animals not unlike Megatron who transform in the same frenzied way until they're a little less goofy looking. One's purple, one's green, the third is dark pink, and the fourth is light blue and winged.

"That's hardly fair." Optimus feigned disappointment. "T-AI, I think you know what to do."

"Yes sir, activating revised battle protocol now." A stoic, artificially generated voice greeted him on the other end of the comm. link.

In a single flash of cobalt, a portal opened on the surface of the sidewalk right in front of Shinichi. Three new shapes ejected from it, each one more car than robot—at least they were until they got high enough into the air, then they did the same thing as Megatron and the predacons. They flipped and twirled and transformed right before his very eyes, but instead of wonder, it was horror that dragged the boy's stomach downward. The next few minutes go by in a lengthy flash that sends him once again running for his father, the only thing that still made sense. In between all of the fighting that ensued, Perilclaw makes it a point to get in his way; with a steel tail and the kind of scratchy laugh that makes his ears hurt, the toothy grin molded onto her face seemed to widen, "Just where do you think you're going?" Optimus can only watch out of the corner of his optic and wonder why Topkick wasn't with her brothers, but right as his processor registers the thought another form emerges from the ground. The smallest one yet.

Instead of a cop car or a SUV, it's a motorcycle, at least until it twirled upward and backward to emerge as yet another of the many robots that surrounded him. "I-I'm here, sir, I got her!" She lunges herself right at the the one with the swaying tail and manages to knock her away, before landing on the ground and using the remaining momentum to propel herself forward after her with a stare that only kind of indicated she knew what she was doing.

The pointed golden crest situated at the top of Megatron's helm crackled to life and enveloped him in a bright light. He didn't even need to say anything; Optimus was able to jump back away from the beam that soon erupted from it with familiarity, but his fancy footwork wouldn't stop him from moving in an equally-predictable pattern that Megatron noticed just a split second before he did. The concentrated energy collided with him hard enough to throw the autobot leader to the ground in a plume of smoke. He returned his attention all the way over to Shun, then to Shinichi. The tension in the air suffocated them both.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you." This was when he dove for Shinichi once again, who'd tripped, and fallen just over halfway to the stage. But before he could scramble up to his hands and knees, his eyes almost instinctively landed on that girl, who had tucked herself behind a nearby pile of concrete broken up by Megatron's arrival. Her hair was shiny and silver, her skin markedly pale like she'd never been in the sun before today, and her dark eyes were the color of dusk. Her hard-to-read gaze enveloped him, swallowed him whole before he had time to blink. He couldn't help noticing her grey leather jacket and weird scarf, completely and utterly captivated and unable to fully realize the immediate danger he's in…but she did.

She leaped up and before she could even realize what it was she was doing (never you mind the why), came out from behind her hiding spot and shoved the boy out of the way so fast Megatron himself couldn't comprehend what she was doing until his talons already closed around her body; squishy but not so squishy he didn't acknowledge the metal hidden beneath it or feel the erratic beat of her spark. His lips curled upward into a knowing smirk as he returned to his perch in the sky. "Hello, dear. I've been looking everywhere for you. Now, doctor, I'm afraid you have no choice but to come with me. Both of you have a destiny greater than yourselves, too great for either of you to understand…but I am here to help fulfill it." He squeezed Hotaru for emphasis, who could only seem to make a single noise of discomfort. "If you refuse, I will have no choice but to destroy years worth of your precious research right here, right now. You wouldn't want that, now would you?"

Shun silently regarded both of them with an intense stare and the same furrowed brow as always. Hotaru's seen it a million times, that contemplative face he makes when he's trying to solve a crossword puzzle in the morning paper, but only after she registered the familiarity of it did she realize she had no memory of ever seeing that face…or the morning paper, for that matter.

Megatron's head turned very slowly over his shoulder to meet Optimus' ambitious optics - as bright and as challenging as ever, all without a single word. "The same rules apply to you as well, Optimus. If you so much as raise that gun of yours, she will be scrap. Now, you will order your men to stand down so we may leave in peace. Do I make myself clear?"

Optimus and Shun both seemed to contemplate their options; Shinichi, meanwhile, recognized the tense silence that fell over them.

"You heard him, autobots." After a few minutes that dragged on long enough to feel more like a few hours, he watched as Prime narrowed his optics and lowered his weapon. Funny, it was just beginning to feel heavy in his servo.

"But Optimus-" Topkick was the first to protest, pinned beneath Perilclaw but somehow managing to keep the other femme at a comfortable distance by crossing her swords over her small frame; even after she latched her claws onto the energon blades and tried their hardest to snap them in two, they held up solid against the pressure.

"You can't be serious." Sideburn deadpanned, like he didn't feel inclined to believe any more than she did. Slapper, on the other hand, acknowledged the implication with a chuckle, "I think I like your thinking, boss."

"Don't ask questions - just do it, you two, now!" barked Prowl, himself busy grappling with Gas Skunk, though as he spoke he shoved him away and jumped back to a distance that was a bit safer. The younger mech, at first watching him in disbelief, came to begrudgingly holster his weapon without another word and moved away.

"You heard 'im." X-Brawn sounded more confident in Optimus' decision-making; but then again, he's the only one of them who has plenty of reason to be. His lock on the lasso-like cable wrapped around Darkscream disengaged with a hiss and disappeared back into the reel on his arm.

"Well, k-kitty," Topkick's look of concern hardened into a grimace. "Do you want to get off of me or do I have to throw you off?"

"How about I crush you instead?" Perilclaw purred, only to be interrupted by Megatron, "Remember why we are here."

Her tail flicked very sharply at his words.

"HmmmMmmeow disappointing. Looks like our playdate's over for now, doll." She tsked, and at last, leaped off of her. Topkick quietly cycled in some air at the weight that'd been lifted.

"Now, shall we?" This time the doctor was the one to look Megatron in the optic, pull his mouth into a line, and nod. He didn't look too pleased, of course, but it's not as though he protested when the warlord seized him with his free hand and took off with his newly acquired hostages (and predacons right behind).

"D-Dad? Wait, dad!" Shinichi yelled, but he isn't sure why he's even calling him that. It's obvious Shun's been keeping secrets from him, about his work, what he does, where he goes, how much time he spends too busy to talk to either him or Koji; the question was...how could he? Could this whole thing have happened because of him? Why? His mind raced. Eventually he collapsed to his knees on the asphalt—questioning anything and everything he's ever known. Sure they stung, and they bled maybe just a little, but in that moment he didn't feel particularly compelled to respond to the pain; at least not until Optimus Prime kneeled down very carefully beside him and reeled him from his festering thoughts.

"I'm sorry."

Author's Note :: Now I'm not even gonna lie to y'all, chapter two took wayyyyy longer than I first expected. In addition to all the important changes in my life that just so happened to take place all at once, I had a hard time figuring out what I wanted to accomplish with it even before I finally sat down and worked in peace for the first time in, what, almost two months now? On top of that, I've been rethinking my update schedule as it pertains to me going to college in the fall. I feel like consistency might be a bit easier to achieve if I just stick to weekly updates instead of bi-weekly ones, or at least until I can build up enough momentum to return to that level. So, anyway, after two drafts and at least a bajillion revisions, here's the first update! I know, I know, it's not as mindbogglingly spectacular as you were probably imagining but it is my first time trying to write a lengthy fight scene with a bunch of characters that's easy to follow and/or stay invested in. Once I get better, I do plan on coming back and updating both it and chapter one but for now, I feel like they get the job done.

That being said, I'd also like to put it out there that I welcome reviews—be they praise or (constructive)criticism or, y'know, whatever else you want to say, and that they're always appreciated :D

Peace~ 3 3 3

Chapter Text

The sound the raindrops made as they bounced off the concrete of the parking garage where the Metro City Police Department housed their patrol vehicles echoed all throughout the structure; even if less than half of them left at the start of the shift and just enough remained behind to remind him where he was, this wasn't one of the things that'd come to mind when he thought of earthly law enforcement. He wasn't sure what did, if anything, but cold concrete walls and even colder concrete floors weren't it.

So, he cruised his way around all the twists and turns that would inevitably lead him to the entrance elevator on the second floor, and even then, it still sounded lonely. Only the gentle revving of his engine indicated there was life to be found there in the first place, but at the same time, it bit back by reverberating harshly through the floor beneath his tires. He couldn't wait to get out of this primus-forsaken place—on the assumption the humans didn't mind him impersonating MCPD Patrol Unit #215, of course, the one that was reported as stolen. The sooner, the better.

Dirt. Scuff marks. Chips in the fading paint worth a thousand words, scratches worth at least a thousand more. The faded green paint clinging to the metal of the gate to the elevator had seen far better days, and even then, it rattled and slid open so smoothly he didn't notice the eerie squealing it made as it scraped along the bottom of the track, that is, until he'd already rolled over it and into the well-lit space just big enough for him to fit. He tuned his receiver in to the soft hum of the electronic pulley system waking up from its nap with a tired groan and begrudgingly lowering down to the ground, just so he wouldn't have to hear that awful sound of loneliness that bothered him in a way he couldn't fathom, let alone describe. The sight of a quiet street greeted him through the metal mesh, the roads and their sidewalks glistening with the reflection of shining streetlights and the caress of a cool breeze. As soon as the gate slid back out of the way, he got out of there as fast as he could without making too much noise. The rain had been falling rather pointedly from the north for the past hour or so, and while this wasn't Prowl's first time getting caught in this planet's terrestrial downpours, that didn't mean he liked it anymore now than he did back then. Ugh.

Prowl was never one to complain but...

"Phew."

At least they weren't acidic.

Chapter 3:

" Apprehension . "

There was nothing quite like hearing this planet inhale in his audial and exhale beneath his pedes; the tall, mint green mech just another speck dotting the lush landscape of a mountain range. Try as he might've, he'd never quite fit in here as well as he did on Cybertron but back home they didn't have deer to graze peacefully in the field, birds to perch in the trees and sing, or a rabbit to stare at him from the safety of the nearby tree line...unless you count petro-rabbits, that is. What better way to immerse himself even further than to carve his way through the grass, leaving behind tire tracks and swirling clouds of dust where it had once been?

Hmph. Always the cheeky one, that X-Brawn. Always taking off down a trail of shredded metal, or a once-in-a-millennia split in the shiny purple sea of the planet Uroa VII, or a windy passageway through the mouth of a beast too big to comprehend. This would be the first trip that wasn't written in stone or a scroll or on some map. Oh, no, this one was special. The kind of special where he could get lost in the blue sky and forget about these wars he's been fighting in since he was just a kid old enough to remember. As he switched to vehicle mode and got a move on he could only hope his siblings were able to find the same kind of peace—however fleeting…

"Eh, too boxy. Too round. Too old-school. Wayyyyy too tall."

Row after row of different sedans, coupes fancy enough to remind him of Prowl, SUVs that looked like the one X-Brawn chose, and a couple pickups. Dejected, Sideburn's shoulder struts sagged. Great. Another thirty minutes wasted; were it not bad enough this assignment was boring the young mech to tears, there were cars everywhere and yet not a single one of them called to him. He spared one more glance just to be sure when he sees it—there, at the very end of the used car lot; a corvette slowly fading away from the safety of the overhead light into the darkness of the asphalt. Sleek, with modest curvature. Flashy, but not too flashy. Sideburn could just see it now; blue and yellow gleaming in the light of the early morning sun as he speeds down the street in search of his one true love, the most beautiful 'bot on the block...whose name he didn't know! 'There's no way she could miss me.'

"T-AI to Topkick, do you read?" They hadn't been on earth long enough for the indifference of T-AI's voice to make any more sense than it did when they activated her for the first time since they departed from Cybertron. Despite the complete lack of any one discernible tone, it was still somehow threatening enough to make Topkick jump when her comm. link crackled to life and shattered the silence that weighed heavy on her processor. Reflected in the window of an expensive car dealership downtown, the same one through which she watched a tacky pink coupe rotate clockwise on its even-tackier display, stood the femme in question with one arm resting over the other and the ghost of a familiar frown on her features. "It's time for your third status report of the day and I still haven't received any registry data from you."

"I know I know, I've been looking, I just..." She cycled out hot air from her vents in a huff. "...haven't found a vehicle mode I actually like." Instead of scolding her in the same way she would've were she Sideburn, the artificial intelligence program could only respond with silence until its algorithms came up with something a bit more meaningful to say. "...take your time, but please be smart about it."

Topkick nodded and, after an embarrassingly long time of just standing there, at last felt motivated enough to let her optics wonder up and around the entirety of the showroom until they landed on a small vehicle tucked away in the corner, somewhat forgotten, a motorcycle.

An idea flashed through her head.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Shinichi." Optimus's voice, however rough from decavorns of civil war spent not only fighting but trying to be the perfect leader Alpha Trion ordained him to be, was gentle—but he spoke in the same way his teachers did. Considerate, but still patronizing, almost like he was too young to understand what he was feeling and why he felt that way. Even if that were true, that was hardly a fair assessment to make. Shinichi tensed. "If you come with us, I will explain ev-"

"And why should I?" That came out a bit colder than he thought, the very ice the autobot leader would now be walking on, but at least he could take some form of comfort in being honest rather than weaving an intricate web of lies like his father. "As far as I'm concerned, you guys are no better than them." His gaze remained fixated on the ground in an act of defiance.

"Hey now!" How was it even possible for a robot to have a drawl taken right out of a spaghetti western? The quartet of colorful autobots formed a loose semi-circle around them, each one covered in dirt and scuff marks. Prowl butted his way into the exchange, glancing down at this boy who dare insult the mighty Optimus Prime. "You don't know that for sure, young man." He exercised a great deal of restraint to keep from raising his voice more than necessary, but the boy still chose to ignore him.

"Shinichi?" ...He could recognize that voice, at least. "Shinichi!"

"Koji…?" The older boy looked up just in time to lock eyes with his brother half-running, half-walking toward him, and trying his hardest not to pay any attention to the beings of metal that loomed over them. He didn't say a word as he dove into his arms, and they hugged, the same way they always did when things didn't make any sense.

"Did you see what happened to dad?"

"I wish I didn't."

"Then why are you still hanging around these heavy metal freaks? W-We gotta go, don't we?"

Koji pulled away just so he could narrow his eyes up at Optimus for emphasis.

"Actually," The life returns to Shinichi's voice, how ever brief, and there's a shadow of certainty in his voice Koji hasn't heard in a long time. "I have something to tell you but you're not going to like it."

"So you mean to tell me that after all that, you're just gonna trust everything they tell you? What's the matter with you!" Koji dug his fingertips into the harness fastened around his chest, looking over at a Shinichi whose gaze was lost in the cityscape, no single source of light safe from being swallowed up by the blur of the pavement. He'd never ridden in a firetruck before; no need to, come to think of it, not even when he was little. The leather of the seats looked familiar but felt synthetic beneath his palms. Otherworldly; similar, but not quite the same. The hum of Optimus' mighty engine reverberated through the two of them as he navigated the complex network of streets in Metro City with the ease of basic familiarity, like he'd looked at a map on their way here but didn't have enough time to process every last street name. Speaking of the prime, he'd yet to say a word since they left New York City. "We don't have much of a choice," Shinichi said poignantly. Koji opened his mouth to argue, only for the older boy to cut him off. "We have to get dad back."

He had a point. Koji finally fell silent, his head drooping; he hated when he was right.

The late-night air was cool, a stark contrast to Optimus' temperature-controlled cabin that tickled his skin as he opened the driver's side door and climbed out. Perhaps too afraid to touch the door, Koji followed closely behind. Their home—tucked behind two opposing rows of shrubs and a single tree standing guard in the front yard—loomed just out of reach, in the shadow of a streetlight down the street. It looked so…unwelcoming from where they stood on the sidewalk. "Alright, Koji," Shinichi said very sternly. "You know where the key is. Go in and get your stuff, you'll be going to Hikaru's for the night."

"Aw, Do I have to?" Koji scowled up at him.

"You heard me."

Shinichi watched his brother begrudgingly huff and puff his way over to the mailbox, retrieve a silver key that had been tapped to the bottom, and go inside. He sighed, the day beginning to weigh on him now that he was back home. A heavy, horrible weight that made him contemplate propping himself up against the alien robot waiting patiently behind him.

"I imagine this is alot for you to handle." The prime said after a moment of calculated silence. This was not how he imagined his first interaction with the humans going; none of this was. Granted, contact under such chaotic circumstances was only inevitable when you're caught in the middle of intergalactic war, but…he still wished it weren't. The boy gazed up at the swath of stars splattered across the night sky, not a single cloud in sight. The moon was full, it's light far too bright to be comforting at a time like this, and yet the urge to lose his tired mind in their midst to escape from the reality where he was talking to a fire truck persisted. He couldn't even begin to imagine what his neighbors would think.

"...Yeah, it is." He scoffed. "Thanks for pointing that out."

Right then, Koji returned to them with as much stuff as he could carry; a couple blankets and a backpack, namely. He handed the key to Shinichi, "Let's go."

Once they'd settled back into the otherworldly cabin of Optimus' vehicle mode, Shinichi pulled out his phone from a pocket on the side of his pants, only to find it still covered in a thin layer of dirt. Great. As if he needed the reminder. He didn't even bother wiping it away; he didn't care. He stared at his reflection in the screen, just beginning to get lost in his thoughts yet again when Koji interrupted them, "What about you, Shin?" His voice was gentle with concern for his big brother; just enough to take the edge off Shinichi's progressively souring mood. He didn't dare look at him when he talked like that, though, he needed to be strong, especially at a time like this. Shinichi returned his gaze to the world outside. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

Ring, ring…ring, ring…

Click.

"S-Shinichi?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!"

Hikaru's house was on the corner of a street tucked nicely between two neighborhoods, just out of walking distance. That wasn't to say any one neighborhood in the residential part of the city was superior to another, of course. It just so happened to be in a somewhat inconvenient place in comparison to theirs.

"I'm really sorry Hikaru, but something happened with Dad."

As mad as he wanted to be, Hikaru had been friends with Shinichi for years now. He could recognize the seriousness of his tone; whatever was going on, it had to be quite the prank. "Is it okay if Koji stays with you guys for a couple days?"

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and spoke before he had the time to think about what he was going to say. "Y-Yeah, of course, but you gotta tell me what's going on!"

Shinichi pulled his lips tightly into a line. "Deal."

Hikaru's house was much bigger than their quaint two-story by comparison; big enough that he could sneak down the stairs without waking up his family. Mister Okabe had been friends with Shun for quite some time and understood the other man's reclusive, eccentric nature well enough to also understand that there were times where the boys needed somewhere safe to stay, away from whatever science experiment was going on in their basement, but even so he still would've preferred his sleep at this time of night. When Hikaru finally reached the bottom of the staircase after a careful descent that took forever, his hand found the handle and flung open the front door. Waiting for him patiently were Koji and Shinichi, as expected, but parked at the curb was a red Metro City fire engine, a running behemoth with no one inside. He wasted no time gluing his gaze to its bright red paintjob, one of his eyebrows furrowing. "Uh, what is-"

"H-Hey!" Shinichi blocked his line of sight with his face. "How's it going?"

"It was going pretty good, actually." Hikaru grumbled. "As a matter of fact I just so happened to be dreaming about a cute girl when you called."

"Yuck!" Koji stuck out his tongue and pretended to barf, only for Shinichi to shush him.

"Look, Dad, uh...hurt himself making dinner and…" Shinichi paused. "Now he's in the hospital, so I'm going to go visit him but I didn't want Koji to be home alone."

"Since when does mister Fukuhara make dinner for you guys?" Hikaru cocked his head to one side. "'Sides, isn't Koji old enough to take care of himself?"

"I know, I don't believe it either." Shinichi grabbed Koji and shoved him through the doorway. "We'll talk in the morning, okay? Goodnight you guys." Before he could even react, the other boy had taken off back down the winding walkway that led up to the porch.

His mind was beginning to race again by the time he returned to Optimus. "Alright," He crossed his arms over his chest. "You have one minute to convince me why I should listen to you."

"I'm sorry about what happened with Shun, I know it upset you very much, but you must know that your father…he was in possession of something greater than himself. Something very important to Megatron." Thirty seconds. "I can't say that I fully understand it myself, but I do know that this possession of his was brought to earth thousands of years ago." All those months, days, and years in the basement; locked away from his family doing who-knows-what. Could that have been what he was talking about? Is that why they were here? Did all of this have anything to do with that strange girl? Shinichi perked up. "There's a possibility that Megatron could come after you next, on the off chance you know something your father doesn't."

"Wait." Shinichi said, more to himself than the fire truck. "You mean to tell me this is all dad's doing?"

"Yes." Optimus confirmed his worst fears, and rather regretfully so. The boy knew he didn't have much time to think it over, not when they were still in front of Hikaru's house and his neighbors were probably beginning to think he was some kind of crazy, talking to himself late at night. "Fine," He nodded, decisively. "Let's go."

Author's Note :: Alright, I know what you're thinking—it's been a while because yes...it has, but if you've made it this far regardless, thank you so much! 2022 ended up being alot more stressful than I honestly anticipated and my motivation to write had unfortunately fallen to the wayside as a result, but 2023 seems to be going a tad bit better at least. ^^' With that said, I do intend to pick this back up with those (bi-)weekly updates I promised. ;)

P.S. I'm also on instagram under the same name, and there I post art both for RIDX2 and transformers in general, so feel free to check it out sometime~