Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Soft touches was what woke Bumblebee. They gradually raised him up from the endless sleep that had slowly been restoring him. All he could think about was the pain at first, but gradually his processor started to spin. Something was wrong. At this level of injury, he was supposed to stay in stasis unless…
He jolted awake, battle protocols struggling to come on, alarms blaring in his vidscreen. He transformed, painful twinges from where his nanites were still repairing him. He wasn’t ready for a fight, but by Primus, if he had to go down figh- Huh?
Looking up at him, terror in their optics, was a sparkling. At least, that’s what his sensors were labeling it as. It… didn’t look like a sparkling, but his sparkling protocols were coming online. Ridiculous how they still worked when his battle protocols wouldn’t. The sparkling just stared at him, shock and fear bleeding through their EM field, and all he wanted to do was scoop it up and cover it in his own EM field and drive away any bad feelings. Fear suddenly filled his spark as fragmented memory files urgently began trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t pull them up. They were too fragmented. Perhaps this was a trick! By whom, he couldn’t remember, but he was sure that he was fighting something. Perhaps they had figured out how to turn his sparkling protocols against him! He stumbled back, away from whatever that thing was and sat down with his armored legs in front of his spark chamber and his backstruts to the wall.
Please don’t hurt me. He thought. Because no matter what you do to me, I won’t be able to hurt you back.
He felt the change in the sparkling’s EM field. They changed from fear to curiosity in an instant. The sparkling wasn’t made out of cybermaterial and didn’t seem to have the ability to transform based on the scans he had been running on the sparkling without even knowing it. But they still had the potential to be dangerous, and his memory files kept trying to come up. Why couldn’t he remember anything?
He could only stare in confusion when his sparkling care and treatment protocols began to change before his optics.
What is carbon-based energy? Glucose? What is oxygen? An element, yes, but why would a sparkling need all this? What about energon? At that thought, a warning popped up that told him that energon would poison this sparkling. He mentally waved the warning away and focused on the sparkling.
A faint noise in his audials suddenly caught his attention. An action that seemed to have some basis in a memory file that he couldn’t pull up came to his attention. He hoped it worked.
Another sparkling stood in the doorway, though this one was different. His scanners indicated that this one was older, old enough to not need full supervision, but still young enough to be protected by sparkling protocols. The young sparkling and the older sparkling talked. He could feel the annoyance in the older sparkling’s field and the nervousness of the younger sparkling. When the young sparkling turned around, he could feel the surprise they felt. Apparently the “hide in plain sight” action still worked. Curious. The older sparkling left, and the younger one approached him.
They put out their hand gently and touched his hubcap. It fell off at their touch, and he calculated that the magnetic clamps holding his armor on were failing. Scrap. The sparkling put the hubcap back on, then pulled out a weapon. In an instant, he had transformed and was backing away.
Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me kept running through his processor.
The sparkling moved closer, edging towards him, weapon still in their hand.
“Do you speak?” A soft voice asked.
Somehow, his language database knew what they were saying even if it wasn’t cybertronian. He tried to speak, tried to tell them not to hurt him, but his vocalizer wouldn’t work. Warnings and alarms popped up on his vidscreen, blaring the cold truth. He raised a servo to his vocalizer, only to find it missing. Ripped out. His memory files continued to scream. And the sparkling advanced.
Concern flooded the sparkling’s field, making him pause from his panic attack to look at them. The sparkling put away the weapon, and his racing spark slowed just slightly. They held up their servos, in an unmistakable gesture. He felt his spark slow even more, and the alarms started to disappear. Now that the fear was gone, his protocols kicked in fully with a vengeance. He had never had his sparkling protocols activated before, and it was like his senses were both impossibly sharp and frighteningly dazed. His body moved of its own accord, closer to the sparkling, his scanners constantly active. He moved his face plates closer to theirs, and they reached out a tiny servo. He let them touch his face plates, and he could feel their giddy excitement, their fear melting into the background.
“Can you understand me?” The sparkling asked. He nodded.
“What are you? Where did you come from?” His memory files still screamed, and he looked away, uncomfortably.
They made comforting sounds, a gesture that made his spark twinge with something he didn’t understand. He wanted to ask a question, and he slowly pointed a digit at them.
At first they didn’t understand, which was frustrating. He shook his helm and tried again, more insistently pointing a digit.
“Oh. Me. Who am I?” The sparkling asked. He nodded vigorously.
“Oh, I’m Charlie. Charlie Watson. I’m eighteen. Today. Actually, it’s my birthday today. What’s your name?”
He shook his helm. For some reason, his memory files didn’t scream as much at him. Like whatever it was it wasn’t important.
“You don’t know, or you don’t have a name?” He just shook his helm and looked away again.
“You sound just like a little bumblebee. I’m gonna call you that from now on. Bumblebee. Matches your outfit too.” His audials perked up and his spark felt strangely light. The sparkling wanted to give him a name? Who was he to refuse. His spark burned warmer than usual, trying to heat the space around him for the sparkling. He wished that he could hold them closer to kept them extra warm, but who knew how the strange sparkling would react to that. So he settled for just staying close to this strange creature who had so much power over him and didn’t seem to know it.

Chapter Text

Optimus is… confused. That’s putting it mildly. Nothing, and when he says nothing he means it, has had this much power over him since… he actually can’t remember which probably means never. And the worst thing is that these little sweetsparks running around his feet don’t have any idea what they’re doing. He knows that it’s affecting his team as well. Bee is completely smitten with his little charge, and Bulkhead is even worse. Arcee likes to pretend she doesn’t care, and Ratchet is the same, but Optimus has been around both of them long enough to realize the truth. They’re in as deep a pile of scrap as he is.
The first time Optimus had met Fowler, he had been confused when his sparkling protocols suddenly activated out of nowhere. He had remained as impassive as always during their meeting, though after Ratchet had murmured that he’d been quietly fidgeting the whole time without realizing it. Thankfully, the protocols didn’t fully activate or he would have been scrapped.
When Arcee and Bumblebee came back from what was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission and told him that two small humans had seen them, he sighed.
“You must bring them here so that I may debrief them. They are already in danger for simply possessing the knowledge of our existence. Make sure you are… gentle with them.”
The two looked at each other, then nodded.
When Bumblebee and Arcee returned to base, and with three humans instead of the anticipated two, Optimus was feeling exhausted and not up for any more surprises after the Cliffjumper incident.
So when his sparkling protocols fully activated as soon as the human children walked in the room, he wasn’t particularly happy. Not that he was necessarily upset, just frustrated that everything just got a thousand times more complicated. He had vorns of masking his expressions though, so he greeted the children politely and smoothed Ratchet’s proverbial feathers, and laid out the rules.
Now it’s been a few months since the children discovered them, and Optimus is pondering the ridiculousness of the situation he’s found himself in.
“Now hold still.” Miko says, a paintbrush inches away from Optimus’ face plates. Optimus stays still. If getting himself painted with glitter was a way to keep the children happy and engaged, who is he to say no?
Raf looks up from his position at Optimus’ pedes, a smudge of glitter across his nasal ridge… er, nose. “Almost finished here!” He calls cheerily.
Even Jack has joined in, enthusiastically painting Optimus’ chassis by standing in Optimus’ servo.
Miko’s paintbrush moves slowly and carefully on Optimus’ face, smoothly and rhythmically swirling over his features. His optics instinctively offline as she paints near them. He can feel Jack painting over the Matrix, and again he falls into pondering exactly what had led to this moment. Tiny servos brush against his plating and small paint strokes put amateur designs on his armor. He rarely lets anyone get this close to him except Ratchet when he’s injured, and even then Ratchet is quick.
Now he has small creatures crawling up and down him like they don’t even care how big he is compared to them, how many cybertronians he has offlined with his own servos, how easy it would be for him to accidentally injure or even kill them. He shifts uncomfortably.
“Hey, stop moving boss bot! I’m trying to work here.” Miko says, and Optimus stops shifting.
Jack says “I think you can put me down now.” He grins up at him. Trying to stay still for Miko, he carefully puts Jack down on the floor of the base.
Jack and Raf step back and watch as Miko finishes. She applies one last touch then says with a smile “You’re rockin’ OP!” He smiles and carefully picks her up in one servo, then puts her with the others.
They all grin at him. “You look awesome!” Miko says excitedly.
“It’s actually not bad.” Jack says, nodding.
“You look very striking.” Raf agrees.
Optimus smiles down at the children he has inadvertently adopted. “Thank you, children.” He says, bowing his helm.
“Optimus.”
The word escapes from lip plates belonging to someone who had previously been pretending not to notice the antics going on behind his back. But now Ratchet is definitely not pretending not to notice. His eyes are wide as he takes in his commanding officer.
Optimus turns to face his old friend. “Do you need something, Ratchet?” He asks.
Ratchet stands a moment more, then smiles, full of nostalgia. “You look like you did before the war. Iconian doll.” He says, the insult full of chaffing affection.
Optimus laughs before he can stop himself. “I did not have much say in the matter this time, old friend.”
He looks down at the sparklings looking up at him, practically giddy with excitement and happiness. Perhaps Primus knew what he was doing after all.

Chapter Text

When Ratchet was first introduced to the human children, he didn’t take it well.
“One wrong step, and squish!” He stomped to illustrate. The human girl seemed to find that amusing, as if dying was something to be laughed at.
“Then for the time being, old friend, we must learn to watch our step.” Optimus said gently.
Ratchet huffed. Completely unfair calling him ‘old friend’. Optimus knew exactly how to pull at his spark to ‘help him acclimate to changing circumstances.’
He had gradually started to get used to having the children around the base. He certainly didn’t like it, but he had started to grow used to having them around. It was exasperating the amount of trouble three small pests could get into. Of course, most of the time it was Miko’s fault. That girl was incorrigible.
He wasn’t sure when his sparkling protocols activated. Probably over time. They were so rusty, he was half surprised they still worked. The other half was surprised they were on at all. And then the shock when he discovered why they were on. The children had wormed their way into his old spark and he never saw it coming.
Jack was a young, responsible protoform. He had started to respect Jack after the first few weeks. He was courteous, quiet, and kind. Like Optimus before the war. Ratchet knew that Optimus saw his younger self reflected in those organic eyes, like an echo of a bygone age. Ratchet just hoped that Jack would never have to go through what Optimus had.
Miko was trouble. She exasperated him to no end, and he couldn’t even throw a wrench at her. But slowly he started to see the girl underneath the loud music and even louder attitude. The girl who had had a penthouse to live in, but never a home. The girl that hide her tears and loneliness with a ferocity that rivaled his own. The girl who deflected like it was a sport and she was an Olympic player. He saw her hide her pain like he did, under an attitude.
Rafael was… undoubtedly Ratchet’s favorite. He was quiet and courteous, a genius when it came to computers, and very thoughtful. He cared about everyone and was empathetic to an outstanding degree. Ratchet wasn’t sure, but he wondered if Raf could sense EM fields. Most humans couldn’t, but perhaps there were some… That might also explain how he could understand Bumblebee so well.
“Ratchet?”
Ratchet paused his ruminating to look down at the human in question. “Yes, Rafael?”
Raf showed him his computer. “I’ve been trying to write the code for the security wall you asked for, but I keep running into this error sign that keeps popping up every time I touch this string of code.” He adjusted his glasses as Ratchet took a closer look.
After a few moments, Ratchet pointed. “There. Second string, third section. Delete that and you should be fine.”
Raf beamed up at him. “Thanks, Ratchet!” He looked back down at his computer and continued typing.
Ratchet couldn’t help his spark from spinning faster at the smile Raf gave him. Oh dear, sweet Primus. He was in deep.
They continued in companionable silence.
It took Ratchet a little while to register that the sound of typing had stopped. When he looked over, he saw a sight that made his spark catch, then tumble along happily. He smiled down at Raf sprawled across his computer, fast asleep. He looked at the time. It was about time for him to be going home, but Bumblebee was currently on a scouting mission.
Ratchet sighed, then gently reached down and lifted Raf up. Raf shifted in his sleep in Ratchet’s servo, his warm limp weight making Ratchet want to coo over him, as though he were a newspark. Ratchet used his other servo to grab Raf’s things, then he carefully transformed around Raf’s sleeping form.
On his way out, he commed Bumblebee and told him that he was taking Raf home. Bumblebee sounded a little surprised, but acknowledged.
Ratchet couldn’t help noticing the happy, relaxed feeling he was experiencing. Darn humans masquerading as sparklings. He could feel the waves of endorphins his frame was producing just by holding Raf close to him. He was having a hard time paying attention to the road when his processor wanted to give all of his attention to the sleepy sparkling inside his transformed frame.
Thankfully, he made it to Raf’s home safely. He parked a little ways away from the house so that Raf’s mom wouldn’t see him and wonder what was up. He looked back at Raf, still asleep in the back, and sighed. He really didn’t want to do this, but it seems that needs must.
“Rafael. We’re at your house.”
Raf started awake. “Oh, ok. Thanks Ratchet!” The sleepy smile he gave Ratchet nearly sent him into overload. How could humans get impossibly cuter when they were sleepy?!
Raf jumped out and waved at Ratchet. “See you tomorrow!”
Ratchet couldn’t wait. Perhaps Bumblebee would consider letting him take Raf home more often.

Chapter Text

Hey all!

Ok, so, awkward moment. I was totally done with this series. It was languishing in my file system, and I was like hey, I should post this, along with a couple other things I’ve written, on AO3. It’ll be fun! Probably won’t be read by a whole lot of people, but it’ll be fun. Guys, this work has double the hits and kudos of all my other works. I’m blown away by all the love this series is getting. I’m also kind of embarrassed that it only has three chapters.
So, if you guys want me to write more of this stuff, send me requests. I’ll mark this work as unfinished while requests are opened, and mark it complete when requests are closed.
Requests should have, as a bare minimum, a (platonic!) pairing of a bot(s) and a human(s). Situations and such can also be added in the request. I tend to shy away from reader inserts and second person, but if requested, I will acquiesce. If I receive no requests, I will mark this work complete for good.
All that said, stay safe out there!

-TC

Chapter Text

Heatwave wasn’t the sentimental type. The little sentimentality he had been born with had been drummed out of him in Rescue Bot Academy, back on Cybertron. He prided himself on being straightforward, clear-sighted, and rarely swayed by emotions. And while he kept his pride, he tried not to be blinded by it.
But now, he felt like he was floundering. So many things had changed in such a short amount of time—or at least, perceived time, since Cybertron had been dead for a few million years. It felt so recent that he and his team had been traveling the galaxy, rescuing other bots and allies of Cybertron. Then the sparkeater came. Then the next thing that any of them knew, they had woken up on a strange new world and told that this was their new home.
Heatwave had never felt so helpless. So many sturdy pillars he had stood on and had thought would last forever had fallen so far, and yet he was still standing. Somehow, he was expected to pick up the pieces of his shattered reality and build it back up again.
The Autobots had also lost Cybertron, but they had had time to watch it die and come to terms with its demise. Heatwave and his crew had lost Cybertron in a day.
And it was in this mental turmoil that Optimus gave him and his crew a mission: to protect the people of Griffin Rock, alongside a family of “humans”.
Ridiculous.
And yet…
When Chief Burns walked into the room, Heatwave felt a shift. At first, he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It was subtle, barely noticeable. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it for a while if he hadn’t been in such a state of distress turmoil. It was like everything became ever so slightly more centered.
He dismissed the feeling as an anomaly and turned his focus back to the mission.

Chase was over-processing everything. Every bit of information he was receiving was being processed in triplicate, a useful system when seeking to preserve authenticity, but unhelpful when he needed processor space for things like making sure his fans kept running. He was trying to compute the idea that Cybertron was dead, and that much of the cybertronian population was as well. It just didn’t… fit. Like a puzzle piece that didn’t seem to go anywhere. He didn’t think that Optimus was lying, or that perhaps there was a mistake. He held too much faith in his superior to believe that. But…
It was like jamming a puzzle piece in place, trying to get it to fit, and failing. It simply wouldn’t compute, and his processor was starting to hurt trying to mash the pieces together.
He tried to stop thinking about it, but it would have been easier to stop a runaway train. His processor ache grew as Optimus laid out a mission for them. He should have been listening better, but all of his processing power was currently occupied elsewhere.
He barely noticed when Optimus introduced Chief Barns to them, but for some reason, his processor ache got a little better when the tiny human greeted them, and it was a little easier to think.

Boulder was in a state of shock. He knew that he was in a state of shock, but he also knew that he couldn’t shut down now. Compartmentalizing was a powerful tool and one that he was good at using. Cybertron and practically all his friends and family might be gone, but he had just been given a mission. He was thankful that Optimus had given them something to focus on, something that would take all of their attention. It would be easier not to think for a while.
He wasn’t worried about what the mission would entail. He trusted the word of a prime, and he trusted his captain. Protecting a town of small aliens wasn’t the most exciting or action-packed mission they had been given, but hopefully it would be distracting enough to not allowed them to overthink, and peaceful enough to allow them to process. He silently commended Optimus on the choice of mission. The prime knew what he was doing.
When Chief Burns walked in, Boulder wasn’t expecting anything. Certainly not the surge of protective coding that appeared out of nowhere. He looked intently at the small creature standing confidently in front of them. This mission might be more interesting than he first anticipated.

Blades was nervous. That was entirely normal. He was practically always nervous. He was also in a state of shock, but he didn’t quite process that part. He was worried about the mission, and about how he could now fly, and about how there was a real, live prime standing right in front of them, and ho boy, he was so glad Heatwave was doing most of the talking. He was shaking as he stood next to Chase, so many things running in and out of his processor. It was making his processor spin and his sparkrate heighten. He needed time to think about things; he needed space; he needed-
A small creature walked into the hanger, and all his thoughts stopped.
It was like someone had just yelled into a rambunctious game of tag, and all of the people had just stopped running, turning to look at the speaker.
Optimus introduced the creature as Chief Burns, the leader of the family they were going to be working with.
It was odd how quiet his mind had gotten, how much more organized. All of the knowledge he had just received in the last 24 hours was being quickly and neatly processed into different files in his mind, instead of bouncing around his RAM units. New files started popping up, information about this new creature. It took him a moment to realize that this creature, this “human”, was being labeled as a sparkling by his data files. How odd. His scanners must have been affected by the long stasis.
But he did greet Chief Burns with a little more enthusiasm than he would have greeted a strange cybertronian. After all, they were going to be working with him. Might as well make a good impression.

Chapter Text

“Absolutely not. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!” Miko yelled, stomping her foot on the floor.
“There is really nothing we can do about it. Your parents have requested you back in Japan by the end of the month. If you can convince them to let you stay before then, then you can stay. But you will be doing what your parents tell you to.” Dina, Miko’s host mother, said, looking a little tired. She was one of the most patient women Miko had ever met, which was rather frustrating when Miko wanted to scream in someone’s face and have them react.
Miko’s parents had called and said that she had to come back, because her grades were “not up to the standards of a Nakadai”. She had one B! As much as she might hate school and skip detention, she was actually quite good at it when she applied herself. She had a good memory, which had come in handy when she had gotten caught by that security guard at the museum holding the energon extractor.
And now she was being sent home. Away from her family friends. Away from Bulkhead.
When she told him her parents were trying to get her to move her back to Japan, he froze.
“You’re leaving?” His voice sounded oddly tight.
“’Course not! I’ll run away before that happens!” Miko said defiantly.
“Miko, if your parents are telling you to come home, you must obey them,” Bulkhead said gently, though his voice was still off.
Miko’s eyes flashed. “That’s not my home.” Her voice was cutting and angry.
Bulkhead was torn between his spark and his sense of duty. His sense of duty won, if only by a sliver.
“Your parents want you to come back. And isn’t Tokyo more interesting than Jasper, Nevada?” He was looking for any reason to argue for her going, though he wasn’t sure how effective his arguments would be.
“You don’t understand anything!” Miko screamed in his face and ran into the human-sized part of the base, where Bulkhead couldn’t follow.
He would have thought she was being overly dramatic if he hadn’t seen the tears streaming down her face as she screamed.
He needed to talk to Optimus.
It was usually difficult catching Optimus at the right time, but luck was on his side. That, and Optimus also felt the need to speak to Bulkhead. It was a few days after Miko had stormed off, and two weeks until she had to leave.
“I’m worried, Optimus, and not just about her, though she is my biggest concern.” Bulkhead confided.
“Are your protocols causing you trouble?” Optimus asked kindly.
Bulkhead nodded. “Her EM field marks her as an orphaned sparkling. What kind of parents orphan their own child, purposely or not? I’m worried, and I don’t like the idea of her leaving. And it’s not just her parents. If the Decepticons find out, she could be in serious danger.”
“Do not worry about the Decepticons finding out. Certain protections will be put in place to ensure the safety of our small friend. I believe your worries concerning her parentage are more relevant. It is evident that she has been largely isolated. I am concerned that returning to her parents will be harmful to her mental health. However, we are bound by the rules of this planet, and we cannot keep her with us against her parents’ wishes. You did well to discourage any notion of running away.” Optimus said.
“So, that’s it? We let her go?” Bulkhead asked, his voice a little unsteady.
“I believe it to be the best course of action, yes. But encouraging the other children to keep in contact as well as frequent visits via the groundbridge should be able to provide a more stable living until we can devise a better situation.” Optimus reasoned.
A pit formed in Bulkhead’s inner workings. “You’re the boss.” He said, unable to keep the worry out of his voice box.
A hand descended on his shoulder pad. “You are right to be worried, and I will do my best to ensure Miko’s safety and happiness.”
Bulkhead could only nod.
The day of Miko’s departure rapidly approached.
Not a day passed without a new plan or scheme being concocted by Miko, each one wilder and more far-fetched than the last. They became increasingly desperate as her departure day crept closer.
The night before she was to leave, everyone except for Raf was staying the night on base. Raf’s mother wasn’t comfortable with him staying the night with other children, though she did allow him to stay for the evening.
Miko was quiet.
That in and of itself was scary, not countered by her expression. It was… frozen, emotionless, almost resigned. There was no spark in her eyes, and she hadn’t smiled in days.
Bulkhead was worried to pieces. If just the thought of going home to her parents was enough to do this to her, what would actually going home be like?
Jack and Raf tried to cheer her up, but the most they could do was get her to faintly smile.
It was terrifying, not being able to help. Bulkhead could only watch.
As everyone either fell asleep or started recharging, Miko came up to him.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” She asked, her voice quieter than he had ever heard it.
“Of course.” What else could he say?
He transformed, and she crawled into the backseat, where she collapsed.
“I’ll still come and see you.” He said quietly, so as not to wake the others.
“It won’t be the same,” Miko mumbled.
“…I know,” Bulkhead said softly after a pause. It was silent for a while, and he thought she had drifted off to sleep.
“I’ll miss you, Bulk.” Miko suddenly said.
Bulkhead was startled, but replied simply, “I’ll miss you too, Miko. Even if you do cause more trouble than Starscream,” He added as an afterthought and chuckled.
Miko laughed with him. “I consider that a compliment!” She said, a smug look on her face.
“Never forget who you are, when you’re back with your parents, ‘k?” Bulkhead said, smiling softly, though the girl couldn’t see it.
“And who is that?” Miko asked, a touch cynical, a little curious, but mostly playful.
“A Wrecker.” Bulkhead said firmly.
Miko suddenly laughed, loud and clear and happy, startling him.
“You ok there, kid?” He asked.
“Never better. Love you, Bulk.” She said, a smile on her face.
“Love you too, Miko.” Said a very confused Bulkhead.
Miko left the next day, unhappy, but alive both in body and spirit. She waved to her friends from the plane, and then the plane took off and they lost sight of her.
Bulkhead had never felt so lonely.
A week went by, though it felt immeasurable. He called her every day via his comm system, but if anything, it made his sparkling protocols worse. He could tell she was unhappy, and his protocols were going frantic, wanting to protect her and provide for her.
“I don’t know what to do.” Bulkhead confided in Optimus.
“I would not do anything for a few more days. Then, we will see.” Optimus replied, rather cryptically.
Bulkhead looked confusedly at his superior, but Optimus turned his attention to other things, naming decoding.
It had been two weeks since Miko had left, and Bulkhead had never been so miserable. He had called her every day since she had left, but today was the first day she hadn’t picked up on the first ring.
He told Optimus first thing.
“Do not worry, Bulkhead. Miko is fine. I suspect she is just busy. Speaking of which, I would like you to accompany me on patrol tonight.”
“O-of course, Optimus. I’d be happy to.”
It was an odd request from Optimus, but not entirely out of the ordinary. They left the base and started driving. It was only as Optimus led them off of the usual patrol path that Bulkhead’s confusion grew.
“Uh, boss, where are we goin’?” Bulkhead asked.
“You shall see, Bulkhead. You shall see.” Optimus replied.
It was only as they arrived at the airfield that Bulkhead realized where they had been going.
“What are we doin’ at the airfield? Are we picking someone up?” Bulkhead asked.
“Yes,” Was all that Optimus said.
A few minutes later, a plane came down out of the sky and landed further down the airstrip.
A familiar figure stepped out and waved to the pilot of the plane.
Bulkhead’s processor was officially broken. It took him a full minute to finally collect himself, and at that point, Miko was running towards the two bots like she was being chased by Decepticons.
“Miko!” He finally gathered enough of his chips to yell.
He was transformed in a moment, and the rest of the Autobots were lucky that the Jasper, Nevada, airstrip was practically deserted, because for once, he didn’t care if anyone saw him.
He scooped up his little girl as soon as she was close enough, and held her close to his face plates.
“Wha-how-I thought-” Bulkhead had no words.
Miko laughed. “My parents remembered why they sent me away in the first place, so here I am again. I’m so happy to see you.” and she planted a kiss on his cheek.
Bulkhead melted. “I’m happy to see you, too.” He then turned towards Optimus, an affronted look on his face.
“You didn’t tell me!” He said, pretending to be mad, but really, he was so happy, practically nothing could upset him right now.
“Oh, I told him not to tell you. I wanted to surprise you.” Miko said, now perched on Bulkhead’s shoulder.
“Well, consider me surprised. Let’s go home.” Bulkhead said, looking at his friend daughter.
“Yeah, let’s go home.” Miko agreed.

Chapter Text

Hey all!

So I just got back from being a counselor at a camp, which is why I've been away so long. I'm in the middle of writing the next one-shot, which should be coming out end of this week or beginning of next. We'll see.

The reason for this announcement is that I finally have a tumblr account!! Yay!! 🎊🎊 Very exciting, I know. However, I'm... not entirely sure how to use it. If anyone has any suggestions or tips, that would be very much appreciated. My username is thunder-child2000. I'm hoping to use it to announce new stories and updating chapters, so knowing how to use it would be very helpful.

Anyways, I'll get back to writing that one-shot... Stay safe out there!

-TC

Chapter Text

Silence reigned throughout the base.
The base was rarely quiet, with Sari, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and even Ratchet and Optimus, the base always had some kind of noise going on. Welding of parts, repairs to the more run down areas of the building, rowdy games of catch, and the normal, everyday noises that large robots make when moving through a building not meant for people their size always filled the space.
Today, however, the base was quiet.
Practically everyone else was out repairing buildings after the last Starscream attack. The only people left on base were Sari, and Prowl, who had stayed behind with the express purpose of taking care of her.
“Now, Sari. Be careful not to let your guard down. Your current fighting style is too wild and uncoordinated. You must move with smooth and skillful grace.” Prowl said as he faced her, ready to pounce.
Sari nodded, and concentrated.
In a split second, Prowl had caught her in one hand and hoisted her up off of the ground.
“Your reflexes are improving. You still need to work on correct timing, but you almost escaped me that time. Now, try again.” He put her back down, then turned to face her again.
Sari bared her teeth and tried to look intimidating. “You won’t-huff- get me so easily next time.”
Prowl could barely keep a smile off his face. She looked too adorable trying to be scary; it was too much! He had rarely been around sparklings, even back on Cybertron; his training had taken up too much of his time. Now, his protocols were active for the first time ever, and he was feeling it.
He suppressed his smile and focused his attention back on Sari. “I believe you. Now, prepare yourself.” He shifted his weight to pounce.
In a flash, he jumped and swiped at her. This time, however, she managed to twist out of the way, falling onto the ground to escape him.
“Ouch!” She yelped as she fell hard on the concrete, her leg buckling beneath her.
“Sari!” Prowl’s voice filled with worry, all thoughts of training abandoned. “Are you alright?”
He picked her up gently from her spot on the floor, and looked at her leg.
“I’m fine, I think? My leg hurts a little, but not too much.” Sari said, looking at her leg.
Prowl scanned her leg with his optical scanners. “I do not believe that you are gravely injured. However, I believe that you have had enough training for today.”
“Aw, but we didn’t even get to do five minutes! Can’t we keep going?” Sari asked, pouting.
Prowl had to look away to avoid the pouting face. “No, Sari. You have already been injured. Why don’t we do something else?” He suggested, desperately hoping to dissuade her from pursuing more training.
Sari squinted at him suspiciously. “Like what?” She asked.
“Why don’t we…” Prowl thought fast. “Watch the new movie you were talking about earlier?” He wasn’t a big fan of watching movies, but if it kept Sari safe and occupied, then it was worth it.
Sari looked at him out of the corner of her eye, then started bouncing up and down. “Yeah, let’s do that. C’mon, I’ll set it up!”
Prowl set her down before she bounced right out of his hands, and she ran off to the TV.
He sighed, then smiled. He wouldn’t change this for the world. He made his way over to the couch, where Sari was already setting up the movie.
She finished setting up just as he sat down next to her. She pressed play, then clambered up onto his lap before he knew what she was doing.
“S-sari!” Prowl exclaimed in surprise. “Wh-what are you doing?” He had held her in his hand before, yes, but she had never been this close to him otherwise.
“Sitting. Your couch is too big for me to sit.” Sari answered, watching the screen.
His protocols were yelling at him to hold her close to his spark and rock her, and cover her EM field with his own, until she fell asleep.
However, the rational side of his processor didn’t think that Sari would take kindly to that, so he contented himself with holding her in his hands so she “wouldn’t fall off”.
The movie was long, and it was getting a little late by the time it finished. The others still weren’t back yet.
Prowl was worried about taking Sari home by himself. He knew that his driving skills were superb, but he was a little worried about Sari on a motorcycle, especially late at night when she could fall asleep and maybe fall off. The thought had his spark spinning like a human child’s toy. No, he would wait for the others to get back. But now Sari was yawning.
“I should probably get home soon, cuz I’m tired. Thanks for hanging out with me, Prowl. Could you drive me home?” Sari said, stifling a yawn.
Prowl paused. “Sari, why don’t you stay a while, until the others get back. Then Optimus can take you home.”
Sari looked a little surprised, but shrugged. “Oh. Ok. What’re we gonna do till then?”
“Why don’t we… play a game of Go Fish?” Prowl suggested. Sari had taught them all how to play recently, and Bumblebee was obsessed.
Sari nodded and ran to get the cards.
Prowl waited for a few minutes before getting a little worried. Where was that girl? He went off to find her. He went to where they kept the games, only to find Sari fast asleep, curled up next to the cards.
The sight of her fast asleep overwhelmed his spark. She was too cute like this, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open, resting against the wall, her arms limp at her sides.
Prowl gently picked her up and held her against his chest. He carried her over to the couch, then sat down, letting her unconscious body rest on top of him. He could stay like this for a while.
When the others finally got back, it was to the two of them fast asleep on the couch together.

Chapter Text

Ok, so maybe bringing the kids with him when he escaped hadn’t been Soundwave’s smartest decision. But in his defense, it made a lot of sense logistically. They’d make excellent hostages, and serve to weaken the Autobots considerably because, for some reason, all of the Autobots seemed to have lost their helms over these tiny creatures.
Megatron had been demanding to know exactly what made these human pests, the whole species of them, worth defending so wholeheartedly, and Soundwave had agreed. The behavior of the Autobots was bizarre. Much remained the same as in previous battles when the fighting started up again on Earth; however, involve a human, and the Autobots seemed to go feral. Less like protectors of a planet, and more like sparked carriers. It was… interesting to say the least, and Megatron had demanded investigation.
So Soundwave saw an opportunity and took it. It was easy enough to scoop them up in his coils and take off, transforming around them and taking to the skies. Ridiculous that none of the Autobots had flight capabilities. All they could do was shoot at him, and they stopped pretty quickly after Ratchet yelled that they could injure the “children”. Curious.
It was unfortunate that he wasn’t able to do as Megatron requested and capture Ratchet, but he was sure that his lord would not be displeased. Next time, he thought.
Speaking of the humans, or “children”, they seemed to have finally recovered from the shock of being victims of a snatch-and-grab.
“Let us out of here, you decepti-creep!” One of the humans was hitting the inside of his cargo hold with all of their might. Which, granted, wasn’t very much.
Now that the Autobots weren’t attacking and were far behind him now, he turned the attention he wasn’t using for flying, onto the humans inside of him.
He began with scanning them. Simple enough, and could give him a little information on how these creatures work.
He was not prepared for the overwhelming onslaught of information he received upon scanning them. He actually started to dip in his flight patterns, his processor distracted from flying for a moment. That made the humans scream as they were flung back. Why did their fear distress him so much?
Information scrolled through his HUD as he struggled to regain his balance.
It took him a moment to realize what was being added to his processor.
Why on Cybertron were his sparkling care protocols being updated? All he had done was scan the humans… and… oh no.
He was so screwed.
As the data flowed in, he could see his protocols changing before his optics, adding information like organically based energy sources, energon poisoning protocols, and basic care protocols.
And the small beings in his cargo hold were now being labeled as “sparklings”.
Frag.
He could feel the immediate change as his protocols took over. His flying patterns shifted to be as smooth as possible, and more oxygen was pumped into his cargo hold. His scanners, now complete with their initial task, scanned for injuries.
Apparently, the oldest protoform had a few small, internal leaks in his fuel lines and minor processor damage due to heavy force to his helm. Soundwave winced as he realized that the injuries were probably caused by him when he was making his escape.
The second oldest, a femme frame protoform, seemed to be mostly fine, apart from a few internal leaks near the surface of her legs and arms.
The smallest protoform, however, seemed to be in great pain. He cried, lying on the floor of Soundwave’s cargo hold. His scanner informed him that the little one had a splintered leg strut, and minor processor damage, as well as many small internal leaks. Warnings that popped up in his HUD, telling him that if the protoform’s leg strut was not corrected and allowed to heal, the protoform’s leg would not heal straight, causing issues with walking.
He was filled with anxiety the likes of which he hadn’t felt since Lazerbeak was small.
He was so busy worrying that he didn’t realize he was far enough away from the Autobot base to teleport until three minutes after he had made it out of range. He mentally berated himself for being so distracted and immediately teleported.
As he pulled into the hangar, he had to decide what to do with the children. The youngest protoform needed medical attention, and he wasn’t about to trust Knockout or Shockwave around his childr- nope, wrong word. The children. He wasn’t about to trust them around the children.
So, that left only himself. Good thing he was extremely dexterous and had medical training from the more gruesome parts of the war.
He carefully transformed, gently picking up the two mech frame protoforms in his servos and the femme with one of his clawed tentacles, and started walking towards the Med Bay. He ignored any and all questioning looks he received and purposefully avoided Starscream by using his security cameras posted throughout the ship.
The protoforms were yelling at him currently, the oldest was yelling about the youngest’s state of health, and the femme was swearing at him. The youngest was still crying in pain.
He ignored them for now. He had to make sure they were at optimal running efficiency.
He entered the Med Bay and deposited the children in a container large enough to hold them comfortably and also not allow for their escape. He focused first on the youngest protoform. He synthesized an anesthetic and administered it, then a sedative. Now came the most difficult part, rearranging the leg strut pieces.
He was careful and went slowly. Finally, he was finished, and he sewed up the protoform’s leg, since apparently trying to weld it shut would only make the problem worse.
He gently lowered the still sleeping protoform into the container with the others.
The other protoforms rushed over and examined the little one. They had been yelling at him during the procedure, but he had tuned them out. Now, he listened to what they were saying.
“Wait, you helped him? Why would you do that?” The oldest protoform asked.
“It’s probably a Decepticon trap, and he’s trying to turn Raf into a robot like him.” The femme said.
“Uh, my mom’s a nurse, and I’m pretty sure he was just fixing his leg.” The oldest protoform said.
“That’s just what he wants you to think.” The femme protoform replied.
Soundwave wasn’t interested in their conversation right now. He lowered a small tray into the container, holding sustenance, water, and two white capsules.
“Give the medication to the unconscious protoform when he leaves stasis.” He said. Then he spun around and walked out. He had a meeting with Megatron after all.
And if he was a little distracted from the meeting from checking the Med Bay cams every few seconds, Megatron didn’t comment on it.

Chapter Text

It was evening, and the sky was painted in broad strokes of color. The deep blue of oncoming night mingled with the pink streaks of cloud heralding the departure of the sun. The mountains were washed in the ethereal light spilling over them, tinting the snow-covered peaks in rosy hues and shining gold.
Optimus surveyed the surrounding area in silence as he watched from the top of the remote Autobot base, set in the Rockies. This world was so beautiful still, so much like Cybertron before Primus was murdered by his own children. He hoped that the same would not happen here.
He sat, contemplating all of the strange events that had brought them here, to the planet of small, adorable infants. If the situation weren’t so serious, he would laugh hysterically. Autobots and Decepticons hadn’t agreed on anything for the last couple million years, and yet, shove them all onto a planet populated by children, and now Optimus had gotten Megatron to agree to a few conventions. Namely, that all fighting was to take place in uninhabited areas only, and that humans were not to be hurt or kidnapped or made prisoners. It wasn’t much, but it was about 100% more than they had had previously.
“Hey, OP.” A friendly voice came from behind.
Optimus turned to look at Colonel William Lennox, who had just come up onto the roof.
“I was told I could find you here.” Lennox continued. “Mind if I join you?”
Optimus was momentarily startled. “Of course, Colonel.”
William sat down next to the massive bot, pulling his legs into what was apparently called “criss-cross applesauce.”
They sat together in silence for a long time, at least by human standards.
Finally, Optimus spoke. “If human culture is not too unlike cybertronian culture, would I be incorrect in assuming that you have something you wish to broach with me?”
William took a moment to process what Optimus was saying into understandable English, then he chuckled. “I guess you could say that, but it’s not really anything important. I’ve just had this question rattling inside my brain, but it’s kinda stupid.”
“If there is anything you wish to know that I have knowledge of, I will answer to the best of my ability,” Opitmus’ deep voice rumbled in the still air.
Colonel Lennox shifted a little. “Ok, then here’s my question. Why do you guys care about us so much? I mean, you guys are aliens from outer space, but you act like overprotective moms. You’re always checking on the men here, making sure they eat, inquiring about their sleep, making them take breaks. It’s… very kind of you, and you sure have a lot of happy soldiers here, but it’s not just the soldiers. You’re always so careful about human casualties. And it’s not just you, but a lot of the Decepticons as well. That’s the odd thing. They have a tendency to be violent, destructive, and manipulative, which is why they aren’t welcome here, but even then, they’re more careful around us. Starscream specifically protected that human family when that building was coming down during the last fight. I was just curious if all cybertronian culture is like this to outsiders, or is it because we’re the dominant species of this planet or something.”
Optimus took a moment before answering. He wasn’t sure exactly how much he should reveal. Colonel William had figured out part of it, and he might be able to figure out the rest if he tried. Optimus weighed his options. He could keep silent, which would be suspicious; he could lie, which he hated to think of; or he could tell the truth and relate to the Colonel the importance of not letting the human government find out about this particular cybertronian weakness.
“It’s ok, you don’t need to tell me,” William said, waving the topic aside with a hand.
Optimus turned towards him slightly.
“Your comparison of my fellow cybertronians’ behavior to ‘overprotective mothers’ is perhaps more correct than you might have assumed,” Optimus said slowly.
Lennox looked up at him, but he didn’t say anything as Optimus continued.
“When my companions and I landed, we were surprised to discover the… unique nature of humans,” Optimus said, smoothing over the slight hesitation in his voice. He continued. “In cybertronian culture, our children are called sparklings. Sparklings are rare, long in growing to maturity, and quite fragile. In order to ensure the survival of our species, cybertronians developed what are known as ‘sparkling protocols’, a way of ensuring the survival of the next generation. They are deep-seated orders in the processor of all cybertronians that command the protection and nurturation of any and all sparklings that may be encountered. Do you follow thus far?” Optimus asked.
William nodded, and Optimus continued more slowly. “According to cybertronian scanners, humans are sparklings.”
William looked up at Optimus, confused. “Huh?”
“Humans appear as cybertronian children on our scanners, and as such, fall under the protection of sparkling protocols.” Optimus reiterated.
Colonel William Lennox sat in silence for a minute before speaking. “So you’re saying, you can’t hurt us and want to protect and take care of us because your brain says that we’re your long lost kids.”
Optimus nodded. “That is a close enough summary, yes.”
“Huh.” William sat in silence for a few more minutes.
“The government can’t find out about this,” He finally said, and Optimus nodded and said, “It is a great weakness that could be easily exploited. Even the Decepticons fear its discovery.”
“Then why did you tell me?” William asked quietly. Optimus paused, then looked back out at the mountains. “You live alongside us and are very clever. You would have figured it out eventually.”
“Maybe, maybe not. You could have waited to see,” William countered, and Optimus looked back at him.
“I could have,” He conceded.
“So why didn’t you?”
Optimus paused, then looked down at his son friend. He looked away again and was silent for a few moments. Finally, he said quietly, “Perhaps because I wanted you to know.”
He looked down to find William looking up at him.
“Y’know, you don’t make a terrible father, even if you are a complete mother hen sometimes,” William said with a crooked smile.
Optimus short-circuited while William chuckled in the quiet mountain air.

Chapter Text

Starscream really didn’t know what to do when he returned to the Decepticon base after leaving the Autobots. Sure, he knew his end goal. Infiltrate the Decepticon ranks and betray Megatron when he least expects it. Easy. Right?
Funny how now he did a lot more wandering. He rarely talked to the others unless they talked to him first. Why hold a conversation with people who don’t care about you and who would actively seek your destruction if it would be beneficial? He wouldn’t have given two frags about people caring before. And now…
Alexis’ face kept flashing before his optical processor, like an afterimage.
This is only temporary. Once Megatron is dead, then…
Then what? He could go back? Could enjoy her company once more? She must hate him now. And even if he tried to explain…
It’s too late. Once a Decepticon, always a Decepticon. No matter how much I want it to change. I will always betray the people who mean the most to me, won’t I?
He suddenly felt a surge in his spark that left him gasping. It felt like his spark was being yanked out of his body, and made optical fluid well in his optics. It lasted a piercing moment before diminishing, but his frame was still shaking from the feeling. He wiped the optical fluid away, still feeling the tugging sensation in his chest.
He wished he didn’t know what it was. He wished he thought it was a spark attack, or some sort of strange electrical pulse, or an uncommon disease. It would make this a lot less pathetic.
He stumbled to his room, locking the door, still clutching at his chest plate. He couldn’t stop it now, and he slumped to the floor. He was flooded with image and audio files: Alexis’s insistence that he be given a chance, her belief in his abilities, the gift she had given him with the other children just before his “departure”, and the way she saw him. Not as a Decepticon, not as a tool, not as an ally, not as a fighter, not as a villain. She saw him as him. And she could read him better than anyone.
Primus, he would die for her. He would kill for her. She must despise him now.
He clawed at his spark, surging in spikes, but never fading completely. As soon as it was almost gone…
“I hear you convinced the Mini-Con to join the Autobots. I know you like the Mini-Cons. Which is why, in my opinion, you belong on the Autobots’ side,” Her face brave and determined as she spoke.
He laughed, high and hysterical, optical fluid streaming down his face now. He didn’t even bother to wipe it away. “I’m sorry, Alexis. I’m so sorry. You were wrong.” His words were high-pitched and shaky as he curled up on the floor and sobbed.
He fell into an uneasy recharge, haunted by reality. When he awoke, it was to Megatron summoning him via comm link.
Days passed in blurrs. He had meltdowns more times than he remembered. He went about his usual duties, trying to let them distract him.
And yet, his sparkling protocols would not let him be. He had to stay here, had to complete his mission. But damn, his protocols were going to fight him every step of the way. Everything in him wanted to be close to Alexis, to hold her to his spark, to protect her from anything that wanted to hurt her, to make her happy, and watch her grow.
But he couldn’t. She had guardians, even if she rarely mentioned them. Humans, who would be better for her than he. She had friends: the human boys, the mini-cons, and the Autobots. They would be better friends than he could ever be. All he ever did with a good thing was destroy it, and he would be damned first if he ever let that happen to Alexis.
So he continued wandering the halls, doing his duties, following Megatron’s orders, avoiding Thrust, thinking about Alexis, and trying his darnedest to ignore the tugging in his chest.
He knew that nothing would go back to the way it was. He would never believe again in the Decepticon cause, he would never believe again that he could attain Megatron’s approval, he would never again believe that he was right, and Alexis would never again believe in him.

Private transmission, sent May 12, 2003, at 15:34 UST

“For from metal to powder,
from seed to heart,
from dust to ashes,
from ember to spark,

Beginning and ending,
They all are the same.
But the road in between,
Is all that will stain.

Intentions mislead,
And duties betray
But to those who know best,
Forgiven one day.”

-by Alexis Thi Dang
For Starscream, wherever he wanders.
(p.s. I still believe in you.)