Chapter Text
The need to be listened
It was still heavily raining when Thrash arrived at the Academy, just a few minutes before 3pm. The front courtyard was quite busy with Terrans chatting in small groups, placidly standing under the rain without any shield or umbrella unless humans stood near them. Unlike humans, Terrans generally didn’t mind rain and the ones with a water-friendly-mode just thrived in it. Thrash was pretty neutral to it, he was just glad he got time to clean himself at the Ranger Station, he swore he could feel mud stuck in places he didn’t know he had. And he got to wax himself, which gave him a nice shimmering look especially with droplets running down his frame. He always liked seeing water sliding off himself.
By the time classes ended, a wave of individuals flooded the courtyard making it hard for Thrash to stand out. As a solution to be easily seen by Atlan in the crowd, he grabbed his shield and creatively transformed it into an umbrella.
In no time, the two Terrans spotted each other.
They moved to the side and Thrash quickly offered his cover to him, like a true gentlemech. “Quite the weather today, uh?”
“I’m glad I got my water-proof bag or my work would short-circuit. The blackout we had earlier gave me a spark-attack already.” Atlan huffed to immediately notice the wax work on Thrash. “Elegant, aren’t we?”
The other cleared his throat, “Well… couldn’t make a good impression covered in mud after work, could I?”
“Trust me, you don’t need any of that to make a good impression,” He smirked pleased when he heard a familiar hum, “So, what are you showing me today?”
“Uh, hm, it depends.” He tried to keep his cool shushing the vents down, “I wanted to take you on the panoramic road and then up the mountains to the Little Fort Ruins, but if you want to stay dry we can go downtown, there’s the old Arcade that’s a lot of fun, they also have the best quint-dogs in town.”
“Wait, wait! You have castle ruins here?”
Thrash fumbled to find words a bit, “Ehhh, it’s mostly what’s left of an old mansion. Some rich dude was obsessed with Medieval castles and built it at the top of the mountain. Now only a tower is barely standing and a surviving room got turned into a big restaurant with a shop. The inner courtyard is a beautiful garden with creepy statues. It’s still worth checking out, it has a lot of ghost stories, ah.” By simply seeing Atlan’s wide optics, he quickly caught he was interested, “Arcade tomorrow?” He offered, quite intrigued as well. “And if you’d like I’d offer to take the best path to reach it,”
“Which would be?”
“Ever rode deep inside a forest? The thrill of an off-road ride, dodging dangerous roots and branches, getting your wheels wet in river streams? You know any of that?” He grinned, throwing a challenge.
“Ohi, I’m from Cooma, mate!” Atlan’s thumb proudly bumped against his own chest, “I was born surrounded by forests! While you here in the Americas ran from bear cubs, down back at home I had spiders the size of your wheels and snakes that would climbs up your rear pipes and kill you by clogging up your vents! I grew up well knowing where to roll my tires and I can easily stand any kind of terrain!”
“All I see now is all talk, no action, man,” Thrash didn’t flinch, but his smile never disappeared, “Show me instead of telling,”
Atlan tsk’d, neither his smile faded away, “I like your style, Vents,”
“And I like yours.” He responded boldly. Indeed, there was a little feisty note in Atlan’s voice that he didn’t show when he was working nor when talking to Nightshade, it almost made Thrash feel privileged. “Keep up if you can!” With a smooth jump in the air, he transformed and after a cheeky donut in front of the Aussie, he darted out of the Academy property with Atlan right on his tail.
The direction they took was not towards the park, but took a way larger curve that slowly climbed up the mountains, further out the city’s borders. It was a short drive to the Ruins, about 45 minutes from the Academy, but still very worth it because of the marvelous view. So far the bike-bots had simple random chats about the day’s events, Thrash shared about the little episode he had with his siblings at the antennae tower, when he sharply said to stop. Right on the curve of the road, a small area had been built as viewing point, specifically made in a clear spot, but still well covered under tall pines. A wide, transparent canopy covered the benches, the tables, the bins and the S.O.S. phone cabin. It was incredibly clean and well maintained. So far their drive was a constant show of gorgeous big trees and a wide view of the valley below, but from up there they could really see the whole area in all its majestic presence. A map over a rigid structure stood in the center of the area, among the tables.
After transforming, Thrash showed him the far corner of the canopy where fans for bots had been installed. They were two simple towers that when pressed the button emitted strong hot puffs of air. They both seemed happy to be dry again. It was still heavily raining with big flashes of light coming from the black clouds above, but it didn’t ruin the view of the valley and the mountains at all, it almost made it ethereal, with the only sound around them being the constant ffsshhhh and the drumming of the droplets over the canopy. Atlan didn’t lose time and took a good amount of pictures to send his family.
“You know, haven’t seen a thunderstorm like this in a long while, not even the ones we have down in Texas are this heavy.”
Thrash raised his arm to point at a quite far tower at the top of a tall mountain, but half hidden by another rocky top. “See that? I was there this morning.”
Atlan frowned, “Did you find the animal in the end?”
The other bot shook his head, “It just went up north and we lost it. Still no clue what it was.”
“Odd that a white animal got to hide this well in the forest,”
“The other rangers are still probably looking for it, they called in the drone squad. Too bad we can’t even use the camera system, the whole thing fried up.”
“You mean there are no cameras in the whole park?”
“Not one working properly. We called Nightshade and Hashtag in to see if it could be fixed.”
Atlan looked thoroughly at the area and tried to get oriented. From up there they couldn’t see the park entrance like he did the day before from the platform Twitch brought him to, so he asked Thrash directly instead of looking at the map.
Thrash pointed at the very far right following the line of the road. Earlier they came across a bifurcation. “We took the left path, if you went down to the right you’d return to the other panoramic road where you stopped with Twitch. That platform is right behind the bottom of the mountain over there, the valley goes around like a tight C. The park is just behind the corner.”
Atlan nodded, understanding, then looked up at the top they were heading to, but saw no mansion.
“The main road goes up as a spiral here, we just need to cross a small bridge and from there we either choose the easy boring road or the much more fun adventurous motocross climb up to the Ruins.”
“Eh, with this weather, it sounds more challenging to climb,”
“Chickening out?”
“Hell, no, mate! This is a child’s play!”
“That is what I like to hear,” He relaxed leaning his hip to the thick wooden rail to enjoy the view of the valley. Atlan leaned his elbows on it in a silent agreement to stay for a couple of minutes longer.
“You know, when I was offered to work here in Witwicky I wasn’t expecting such a beautiful area. I thought it was more a military zone due to Sp.Ark. HQs being here. Instead I found a very lively community with everything any bot and human could ever need, so many services! And people here are incredibly welcoming and friendly. I have seen only a fraction, but it sure gave me an amazing impression,”
Thrash smiled as a bit of pride touched his spark, after all he was part of the group that made all of that possible, giving Terrans a place to be among humans and cybertronians. “Eh, what about the food?”
“Sorry, mate, but nothing beats a steak from Down Under,” He grinned.
“Can’t wait to make you try the restaurant at the mansion and make you change your mind then!” He suddenly leaned in bringing his hand next to his mouth as amplifier for his whisper, “And since I know the crew there, we might get a huge discount.” He straighten again, chuckling, crossing his arms against his chest “And a guided tour of the place too if you like,”
“Ha, you’re quite the character.” After a moment of thoughtful silence, Atlan looked back at him frowning. “You sure give me the impression of a guy who knows everybody in town,” he chuckled, half joking.
Thrash looked at him with big surprised optics, “I~… kinda do.” He cleared his throat, half serious.
“…Really?” He was honestly impressed.
“It was a very small town at first so… yeah… My family was under a spotlight from the very beginning and after the second wave of Terrans arrived, we were put under a brighter one. We met all the new Terrans being born in the vicinity of Witwicky and later on also the ones being brought here for guidance.”
“Well, you and your siblings being the first ones sure made you a celebrity. Even I from Australia knew about you.”
Thrash chuckled, “Eh, at first it was quite overwhelming, but things steamed down after a good while and we could finally focus on ourselves for once, each of us taking a path.”
“Hm… how long have you been a ranger?”
“Uhh… about two years.”
“Were you pressured by your mom?”
“Wha-? Ah, no, no. She had offered me to join her team a few years ago, but I had other things in mind. I just enrolled in the training course on my own, passed the exams and after one year I was promoted. She didn’t know I enrolled until she found my file in her system.” He laughed at the memory of her surprised face.
Atlan found the other bot’s laugh contagious and couldn’t help himself chuckling as well, “Did you work at the Ruins too?”
That caught Thrash a bit by surprise, “Eh, I did.”
“What about the arcade you want to take me to?” He frowned.
Vents started whirring out of embarrassment, “That too…”
Atlan noticed how also Thrash’s stand shifted more on defense. He recalled what Breakdown had told him and he knew he had touched a wire. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry…”
Thrash scoffed, as if to shake the embarrassment off, “No big deal, man! I’m not made of glass,” he offered a smile to him, but when their optics locked something seemed to tick in both bots’ sparks. Something in both of them shone in those colored mechanical eyes, their UI doing a sort of automatic analyses that was both reassuring and comforting, hard to tell if out of chemistry or emotion. For some reason they both felt like they could truly trust one another despite just having knowing each other for a short time.
Neither Thrash nor Atlan had ever felt such sensation before that moment.
They awkwardly and quickly looked away, both unsure if the other actually felt what one felt, but they sitting down had been the most natural act. They simply looked at the rain in silence for a moment longer than either of them wanted, until Thrash was the first to talk.
“You ever done something to just… stop thinking about something else?”
“I’m… familiar with the concept, yes…” Atlan surprisingly answered. He was sitting slumped forward, elbows on knees, his fingers slightly fidgeting.
“I… lost count of the many jobs I tried in town. A month here, six there… yet nothing helped me.”
“Was it because you weren’t comfortable with the job or your coworkers? From what I saw you’re well remembered and talked about.”
Thrash shook his head, “I always found the best teams, worked with all kind of people and still managed to work well with everyone.”
“You do show passion for wanting to do a good job,” Atlan said, making the other heartily laugh.
“I do like doing a good job wherever I go, that’s true,” He too leaned forward, “Although I never found what I truly want to do and nothing so far really satisfied me… nor gave me a good distraction.” Atlan was honestly dying to know what he needed a distraction from, but out of respect he bit his own tongue. He surely wasn’t expecting Thrash to continue a few seconds later. “So, you know my human siblings’ sleeves?”
“The cybersleeves? Yes.”
“What you know about those?”
“I know they are a relic from Quintus himself, his Shield and his Sword, and that they’d been the key to the Wave that activated all the Wells around the world.”
Book stuff. Information anyone could find in history books.
“What if I told you they were also the key to an empathy link among me and all my siblings?” Seeing him deeply frowning, he got he wasn’t understanding. “Ahh, how do I explain this now… It was uh, something we all shared. Thanks to the sleeves Robby and Mo could feel our emotions, they knew if we were happy, upset, whatever… and vice versa. They were there when I was born with Twitch and they immediately knew our names by simply looking at us and we knew theirs. We were born with this connection! We could find each other easily, understand them in a blink, help them quicker when in trouble, that was our way of communication! Something deeply wired in our sparks and hearts! And then…” He raised his hands to then let them drop on his thighs in exasperation. “When the link broke… we were all overwhelmed… stunned even. It was jarring. Alien. We had to learn on how to express ourselves again. We had to learn how to communicate more openly… it wasn’t anything truly new in some way, we had always done it with our parents and anybody else, but among us it wasn’t normal to say Ehy, listen I’m mad at you, we knew it by feeling it and acted upon! After a long time of being able to feel your siblings it wasn’t easy to adjust to the… silence.” He spat that last word with quite rage.
“What… caused this to break?” Atlan had been listening closely despite he wasn’t sure how to interpret it being unfamiliar with the topic.
“One said it was the Weapon… another said it was the Wave… Shockwave is sure it was a combination of both. Whatever the hell happened, the sleeves reset and despite everything we tried, we lost the link. My siblings… they all worked hard to regain a good balance and communication, they seemed to have adapted well… meanwhile I feel left behind. This,” he gestured circling his hand nearby his audial, “silence is deafening! Whatever I try, it’s always there ringing in my head. Whenever I realize my siblings can’t feel me, I feel vulnerable… lonely… And things got only worse when everyone moved out… Robby and Mo went to college, Twitch is always at the HQs, JB and Hashtag at the warehouse, Nightshade lives in the damn laboratory when they aren’t at the Academy. I mean…” His vents huffed hot in frustration, “I never wanted them to be constantly attached to my aft! But when we were all together in the bunker, I could open my optics and ask them for anything if I needed, I forced myself to make it work to try to adjust too, to feel better. With them out, I started to really feel alone.”
“Although… they always have your back, no?”
“Of course… just like I have theirs, we’re a family… they’ve always been patient and supportive, they gave their best to help me out, after all. But I fear they reached a point where don’t know what else to do to make me feel better. I don’t know either and… I don’t want to drag them down.”
“Have you talked to them about this… malaise of yours?”
Thrash nodded, “They know… Our parents too.” He puffed out his cheeks groaning, his leg started to jump up and down nervously, “I tried everything! I tried talking it out, I copied everything my siblings did to get out of it, I took jobs I didn’t even need to keep myself busy, I tried close combat to clear my mind, breakdancing, skating, DJ-ing, I haven’t stood still in years!” He sighed in a long, final hot puff from his vents, “I feel like I’m isolating myself from my family…I don’t want to hurt them…”
Even though they weren’t looking at each other, Atlan could feel the guilt oozing out of Thrash and it made his wires contort. He waited a couple of moments to let him cool down after letting him talk in respectful silence and listening carefully in honest concern. Seeing him calming down, the last thing he wanted was him feeling like a fool for oversharing. He cautiously reached out and leaned his hand over his arm, squeezing his wrist. That simple action really caught Thrash unguarded, but he didn’t pull away, instead he slowly raised his head and locked optics with Atlan. “You still have an amazing family,” He offered, if a bit shaky at first, “I saw that the other night, everyone was around you quite protectively if I may add,” he snorted, “Mo and JB seemed the ones closest to you, you were never left alone, I saw them checking on you often. I believe that despite everything, they don’t want you to feel left out, they all want you tightly in the family circle. To me, it seems nobody had given up on you and I’m sure they never will, they care for you way too much.” He patted his arm before pulling his hand back and watched him in-vent deeply, looking away to clearly not show possible tears that might threaten his reputation.
“I… know. I’m way too aware of that. That’s why I feel guilty, I don’t want them to constantly worry about me.”
“Well,” Atlan chimed in a tiny bit more cheerful tone, “I wouldn’t call it a family if they weren’t worrying. My mom always worries about my sisters and me even when we’re not doing anything, it’s pretty much her job.” He was glad to have stolen a small snort from Thrash. “Or it’s either her sixth sense telling her we’re up to something that miiight get us into trouble.” That made the other Terran huff as he chuckled, agreeing.
A bright flash from a lightning sharply interrupted for a moment, quickly followed by a loud and deep rumbling. The two young Terrans simply observed and listened, staying silent until they could hear the rain again.
“If…” Atlan tried, but his words died in his vocal box for a few moments. “If I may… and if it could be any comfort for you… I do relate to that sensation of guilt,” he shifted uncomfortable on the bench, but he was pleased that Thrash was listening closely, “Whatever I do to give any help or support to my family… it never feels enough for repaying them of what they did and still do for me,” he scoffed, “I’ve been told many times that what I do is more than plenty and that I have no debt to pay at all, but after what happened I’m not so sure,” he turned towards Thrash, meeting his alert yet confused optics, “I bet you’re wondering why of all places my family came to the US, so way far from home,”
Thrash blinked, nodding and considering, “Yeah, I won’t lie…”
Atlan nodded as well, “Have you… ever experienced… discrimination?”
Thrash softly gasped, almost inaudibly, from what he heard Australia was one of the better adapted Countries for Terrans to live in, “I had a couple of unpleasant meetings back in the day… from both humans and cybertronians, yes.”
“I guess all Terrans had faced it at the beginning, uh?”
“…Was it that bad in your home town?”
“Hmm not from the town folks per se. When I emerged from my Well I pretty much wandered around the forest for a bit before finding the town, there I saw many people and a few Terrans living together quite nicely. I didn’t see that much because I was, ah, was immediately taken aside by a man who later became my dad, but I saw there was a lot of harmony and the little town had a lot to offer me. What… What really tilted the balance was,” He visibly struggled to find the words, “it was my dad’s father. He… loathed me at first sight, even more than any other mech he met on the street. When I was officially adopted, things got really rough between him and my dad.” He shook his head as if in disgust, “They had never seen each other eye to eye, dad had tried all his life to be under his father’s good light, but he told me he never succeeded and things naturally crumbled down when he started going against him.
“It was a constant fight, almost daily for three years, until Senior fired my dad from the family business and disowned him. Think that maybe from there we could have a new start over without the old fart breathing down our necks, but that didn’t stop him, he wanted me gone for good since he couldn’t get rid of all the other Terrans in town. Senior at the time owned the main businesses in town and let’s say half of the people worked for him. We started getting threats from friends who worked for him because they got fired for being associated with my dad. The closest friends still defended us even after being kicked out, but the situation became unbearable quickly.
“Mom always wanted to return to Scotland to her family, so we just,” he gestured with his hands, “sold mom’s ranch, packed everything, prepared all connections for schools and housing, and then, when we arrived at her sister’s mansion she just… didn’t want anything to do with me (nor my brother either). She knew I was part of the family, by the way, but I scared her too much, for some whatever reason. She didn’t even want me indoors, but my mom forced her to give me a room. We didn’t stay there too long, in a few months we were out of there. James and I both won a scholarship and we helped with some expenses even going against our parents’ will. We didn’t really need the money, but I insisted. There’s been some buzz then about moving to Texas due to a connection my dad had, a cousin having a ranch, and moving me and my siblings to other colleges wasn’t a problem, so once again, we packed everything up and reached our relative, who for once had nothing against me or James, now Jane.” His vents huffed heavily for a long moment as if he dropped finally some weight off himself. “I… feel awful for having caused so much trouble to my family…” He said in almost a whisper, “They went through so much hostility, so much hate, so many problems because of me… I tried to not be in their way, to not get attention, I always helped where I could, I worked so much to be…” With a sharp movement, he rose his head and looked at the mech sitting next to him, locking optics with him before snapping his own shut, unable to bear them, and jumping on his feet, “Oh for Primus’ sake, what the fuck am I doing?!” He brought both his hands to his face, exasperated, “You just poured your spark out about your own very personal issue and I just stole your thunder blabbering about my life as if it was your problem to carry and-” He sharply stopped as he felt hands firmly grabbing his wrists.
“Woah, woah… buddy… easy…” Thrash carefully guided his hands down and both took a deep in-vent to ease their engines. “It’s alright,” He gently pulled him to sit back on the bench.
“Thrash, I… god, I’m so sorry.”
The other shook his head, “You have nothing to apologize for, everyone needs someone to just listen to you time to time,” He spoke softly feeling the need for comfort.
Atlan blinked before looking away fighting his shame and after a long moment of awkward silence, he sighed in a soft smile, “Thank you,” Thrash hinted a smile too thinking he was thanking him for having listened to him until he heard his next words, “for sharing your situation with me, I’m pleased you felt comfortable enough with me to do that. And thank you for giving me your audials, of course.”
Thrash let out a soft huffed snort, glad to hear his tone being genuinely a bit more cheerful, “Very same, dude. Feels nice to… actually let out something. Even if you have no solution for me, or I for you, it’s nice to feel listened to.” He leaned his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, still absorbed in watching the rain. Atlan copied him, nodding in agreement. “You said my family is amazing. Yours doesn’t sound any less, you know? Maybe… we both should give them some more credit… I… not gonna lie, I haven’t been the most open to them lately. I don’t… want them to see me as a burden despite I well know they never will. This feeling is quite awful.”
“It’s shit.” The other added, deadpan.
Thrash snorted. “Yeah, it’s shit.”
“Will you… consider talking to them again?”
Thrash blinked, looking deep in thought. He eventually nodded. “I can’t tell what good it’ll make… but I should keep them updated, maybe something new might come out and help.” He wondered with a positive note. “Will you with yours?”
That made Atlan tense up as he bit his own lips, “I never talked to dad about it. It was always my mom and sibs to reassure me. I’m not sure if mom knows how it actually bothers me, she always seemed playful when saying to not worry.” He nodded, “I’ll give them a call and try.”
Thrash nodded, “That’s good. That’s good,” Another bright flash colored the sky for a fraction of a second, followed quickly by a low rumble. He got on his feet, “You still up for seeing the ghostly mansion?”
“Eh, of course, mate,”
“Ready to eat mud and pine needles? Some root too for good measure?” He grinned, challenging, and offered his hand to him to get up.
Atlan snorted as he grabbed it and got easily pulled on his feet with a nice amount of strength, “Just as much as you are, Vents,”
Without letting go of his hand, Thrash gave him quite a good tug, “The cleanest pays for the next meal,”
Suddenly feeling a bit too close to his friend than expected, Atlan blinked surprised a couple of times, but quickly his expression mirrored Thrash’s, smug and with a bit of spunk, “You’re such a daredevil,”
“You saw nothing yet,”
They both tilted their chins up, accepting the challenge, yet neither of them was able to look away from the other. Thrash was the first to soften his smile, there was a soft hum tickling both of them, right in the spark, something really confirming they could really trust one another, a reciprocal feeling of understanding that if needed they could talk to each other. They accepted that mutual warmth in silence and with a slight nod, as if to say their thanks, to then transformed and eagerly drove towards the climbing path deep in the forest.
--- On the Quantum Leaper ---
Three hours after transmitting the last data package.
“So… They’re still downloading?”
“Mhm. And might take longer than I thought. Should have expected it, but not like this.” Echo sighed and leaned back in his booth, the maximum he could move since he was deeply wired into the communication system.
Ratchet sighed standing at his side, but after all it wasn’t a big issue, the ship was finally back on course and the medbay was emptying, aside from one remaining patient who needed his jaw reconstructed and was kept under surveillance for the time being, not because seen to be an issue for the rest of the crew, but to keep him and Drift apart. Rodimus wasn’t accepting visits from anyone. Ratchet had a talk with Drift as he came out from recharge and simply asked him to stay in their room and relax, navigation would have been given to another mech until he got his mind clear.
“By the speed of it, how long do you think it’ll take?”
“Minimum (6h).”
Ratchet groaned big time and puffed his cheeks out in annoyance. “Well, we have time to kill.” He looked at his own station in the middle of the room, where Ultra Magnus sat in his place. Ratchet was still in down time –ordered by First Aid- with him covering the position. If there was something Ratchet loathed was to have nothing to do, so he looked back at Echo as a thought came to him. “You said the two young ones want to be useful onboard,”
“Want me to summon them? They are,” as he talked he turned his head in the direction of the personal quarters as if able to see through walls, “still in their room.” Primus bless Echo’s ability to sense even the weakest of sparks from very far.
“No, no, I shall.” He patted his shoulder before giving an announcement to the presents in the room, “I’ll be in my quarters. Anything happens, my frequency is always available.”
There was a choir of “Yes, captain!” as response and he walked out of the cockpit, heading to his main office.
“Drift?” He called over the private line as he walked down the hallway.
“Ratty?” A rather cheerful tone colored his conjunx’s voice.
Ratchet naturally smiled each time he heard it, “Let’s have a chit-chat with our favorite stowaways,”
“I’m on my way,”
A few minutes later the couple met in their office and closed the door. Drift unexpectedly glued himself to Ratchet, wrapping his arms around him.
The medic blinked in surprise as he rubbed his back, feeling a magnetic pull from the center of it, “Ehy, ehy…” He scoffed amused, “You’re getting a bit overprotective lately,”
Drift’s vents huffed in relief feeling the metallic warmth of his companion against his frame. “My code feels like all over the place, I have multiple protocols overrunning and I can’t help it,” He purred as he kissed his cheek, gently cupping the other to pull him closer.
Ratchet heavily relaxed under his touch and allowed himself to be spoiled for a couple of minutes in that warm, tight hug. “How are you feeling?”
“Much, much better now you’re here with me.”
The other sighed in relief and closed his optics, leaning on his shoulder. “Come on, I know you’re boiling to tell me, how are our auras?”
Drift chuckled heartily, “Healthy. Bright. Lively. Yours’ a bit grouchier looking.”
“You’re telling me Crux won’t be a grouch like me? Now, that’s a shame,”
“I’m sure you’ll teach him plenty,”
“To be a grump? Nah, you are born with such quality.”
“AH!” Drift laughed pulling a bit away, “The best of qualities,”
“…You did not just say that,” The doctor said, trying to not laugh.
“I might have and I stand by it.” He smirked before sneaking a finger under Ratchet’s chin and closed the gap between them, gently placing a soft peck over his lips, purring as he felt Ratchet’s arms pulling him closer. Or as much as they were allowed since the bump pressed between them was a small yet mighty presence.
It was there that Drift simply trapped his conjunx again his arms, pressing his cheek tightly against his, cuddling like a mad feline.
“Drift…” Ratchet well knew where this was going and tried to get his attention from under the violent showing of affection, “Drift!” The swordmech kept on cuddling, his vents purring aloud happily once he placed a protective hand over that warm bump, pride seeping out at each puff. “Drift! I need to sit down!”
At the angry command, the older mech quickly detached and grabbed his comfy chair at the speed of light, to finally push him at his desk. With a final chuckle, he hugged his neck from behind, whispering a soft apology.
In the end Ratchet could never stay angry at him… he grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips, he couldn’t blame a sire for being a sire.
Drift gingerly went to sit opposite of him, on the other side of the desk as the medic worked on the pc. The latest reports from Echo and the psychologist about Driller and Compass had been rolled in and despite the two being onboard for only a few days, they showed to be a bit more at ease around all the other mechs and their stress level had drastically dropped, but they both still showed to be cautious while moving around, very shy. “Driller has showed a particular interest in Echo’s medical studies,” Ratchet read, “showing fascination in how an individual like him could undertake a path in the medical field despite not having <the right hands>.” Ratchet raised a brow and Drift knew his gears were grinding something up, “Compass is an avid reader and shows a deep knowledge about metallurgy.” Both conjunxes shared an impressed look. “Well, that’s new.”
“Maybe they could start with apprenticeship. A good talk will direct us to put them on the right path.”
“Mhm. Do summon them.”
After a few minutes, someone knocked at their door and Driller and Compass were allowed in the office.
“You called us, sirs?” Compass stood a bit closer to the desk, proudly standing at attention. Driller shyly stood a step behind.
“Please, have a seat,” Ratchet politely offered, still sitting at his desk. Drift stood at his right, behind his shoulder.
The young lads awkwardly sat down, only Compass directly looked at them, maybe with a bit too much spunk in his optics, while Driller looked in front of him, avoiding optic contact, randomly noticing their files were on the holo-screen.
“We heard you’d like to be useful on the ship,”
“Yes, sir, staying idle unnerves both me and my friend here,”
Ratchet nodded understanding and turned to Driller, who really didn’t like the attention, “Do you mirror your friend’s status?”
Compass looked offended for a second to see the older bot asking a confirmation so bluntly after he just said so, but he didn’t say a word. Driller on the other hand, looked like he wanted to disappear, not able to look directly at Ratchet, but he nodded.
Drift crossed his arms and frowned, “Is there a reason why you aren’t looking at your captain in the optics, kid?” His tone wasn’t harsh, just merely curious and still gentle. He had read from Echo that the kid looked particularly shy in his and Ratchet’s presence, which was quite odd.
“He’s just very shy, sir…” Compass offered, unsolicited.
“I want to hear it from him,” Drift pressed down.
“I’m…” Driller took a deep in-vent and tried his best to straighten his back. He gave his best to keep optic contact with both Ratchet and Drift as he talked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude…sirs.”
“Rude is far from what Echo had written about you, kid, I only see positive praise about your temperament and discipline. Actually about both of you, he was quite impressed by… Drift?” Feeling something tagging in their Bond, Ratchet turned towards his conjunx, noticing him standing rigid and… deeply staring.
There was a sort of strong ping over Drift’s UI the very moment Driller had looked at him. His vision was overwhelmed by fast messages of analyses of the kid sitting in front of him and the very final message blinking in the corner of his vision was:
PROTECT
“Drift?!” Ratchet called with more emphasis, grabbing his wrist. Only then his companion blinked a few times and shook his head to clear his thoughts.
“I… I think my code is acting up. Sorry.” He patted his hand as reassurance.
“It’s understandable…” Both conjunxes suddenly looked up at Driller, who seemed on the verge of panic for some reason. Even Compass was looking at him very confused. “I-I’ve seen it before in sires having their companion’s carrying on the last quarter…”
It was Ratchet’s time to stare deeply at him, making the lad squeak. “How much you know about carrying?”
The young one’s vents started whirring loudly and hot at that point and all he could do was to lower his head and talk clearly, “I witnessed my… senior follow a few cases and emergences.”
“Hm,” Ratchet squinted hard at him, leaning forward. “Why don’t you scooch closer, kid.”
Having no other option, Driller looked up at his friend hoping for any kind of suggestion, but Compass had none to offer, so he moved his chair closer. “Sir?” He looked up at Ratchet like a spooked pup.
The captain moved his arm forward and offered him his hand, “Shake it,”
Now Driller was gulping, “I don’t understand… You never shake the hand of a surgeon… Sir,”
“Unless when offered. I never liked how you fidget with your hands. You say they itch. I say First Aid found nothing wrong with them, only a protective coat I bet you applied yourself. Come on. Shake my hand.”
In that moment, Driller really stiffened and all his shyness seemed to disappear, “I don’t think that’s necessary, thank you for the offer,”
“Is this some kind of prank?!” Compass got on his feet, “You want your hand shaken so badly, I can do it and we can be done with this!” He reached out, but Ratchet was fast in closing his hand, tilting it just out of reach.
“I didn’t ask you. I asked him.” His tone suddenly hardened, his look could tame the worst patient from afar, “Sit down.” He ordered and all the bravery and arrogance of Compass seeped out. The lad obeyed and lowered his head, his vents huffing hot.
“We can go on with this game as long as you like, but you won’t get anything out of the situation.” Ratchet continued, talking to both of them. “We had patience enough to accept you both on the ship despite you clearly trying to make us all think your real names are the ones you gave us. Anyone onboard could see you’re under a fake ID and avoiding certain mechs for whatever reason. We know nothing about you and yet I still personally wrote to Earth that you’re part of the crew, deemed not dangerous.”
“…You don’t know that.” Compass angrily pouted, offended to be seen harmless.
“Don’t go throwing challenges like that in front of a swordmech,” He tilted his head towards Drift, “nor in front of Echo.” That made the young mech shiver.
“Now.” Ratchet continued, “We blindly trusted you and now you want to prove yourself onboard working under our surveillance. We need a guarantee now, don’t you think? I offer you a choice, I won’t force you tell me your story if you don’t want to –I wouldn’t in any case, first and foremost- nor ask you why you’re hiding, all I want to know is what you’re capable of, because surely neither of you is a miner despite you painted yourselves as such.”
The two young mechs suddenly realized that their disguise had never worked in the first place and both looked at each other full of shame.
“…If we don’t accept?” It was Driller to ask, fearful.
“You’ll be put on a shuttle and pivoted towards the closest cybertronian outpost. Consider we’re very far from home.”
Both the young mechs vented-out in discomfort.
“We don’t want that… We seriously don’t want to hurt anybody or sabotage anything, we just want to live in peace, to find a nice place, to have a purpose.”
Ratchet seemed to think for a moment, “Is there anyone on this ship that might be an obstacle to you?”
“Ehy! You said you weren’t aski- OW!”
Everyone seemed surprised to see Driller punching his friend in the arm, shutting him up for good.
“Cut it out for once!” He angrily told him before returning his attention to the captain, bowing his head in apology, “No, sir, no mech is our enemy here. Although… many faces are familiar to us and we… we saw them being recently killed… We’re still adjusting…”
Ratchet looked up at Drift, receiving a warm squeeze on the shoulder. He nodded and sighed deeply, looking back at the two mechs. “My apologies for making such a discomfort resurface, I won’t ask anything unless you’re ready to talk.”
Much to his surprise, Driller shyly offered his hand to him. “Call me Cee.”
Widening his optics in pleased appreciation, Ratchet also noticed the way the kid held his hand out, giving him the confirmation to his suspects. His hand was kept rigid with the thumb up. The medic leaned his own hand against his, palm to palm, letting the tip of their thumbs touch and their EM fields buzz in unison. The extremely specific tingling only medical bot could share made his whole hand prickle. “I knew you were a surgeon. Do you practice?”
Cee retracted his hand, ready to remove the coat, since its only purpose was to cover his hands from scanners. “I’m a 3rd level trainee, but I operated already on big wounds around the sparkcase.”
“Ah, you’re more advanced than Echo then. First Aid will be happy to have you in his team.”
Cee beamed unbelievably happy about the news, finally showing some true colors of his personality. Thing that wasn’t the case for his companion at his side, who looked incredibly pissed, keeping his arms tightly crossed over his chest and looking at the wall. Cee leaned a hand over his shoulder, trying to make him turn.
“I’m not talking to you.” Compass hissed, moving his arm away from him with a sharp pull. He then got on his feet and looked straight at Drift, then at Ratchet. He looked mad at first, but within a few seconds his expression relaxed as he calmed down and offered his hand. “Quasar. Archivist. Metal expert. Engineer trainee.”
Out of pure habit, Drift shook his hand before Ratchet, so his companion could then lean his over the back of his hand as protection of non-medical mechs’ EMs.
“Well, that opens you a lot of paths for you,” The swordmech chimed satisfied.
“I’ll have Brainstorm and Nautica have a meeting with you, so you’ll be able to choose the better branch to work in.” Ratchet said in a very fatherly tone, stealing a small rare smile from the young mech. “You’ll start as soon you’ll get a call from your seniors, who I’ll contact immediately. Thank you dearly, both of you, I hope your stay will be more pleasant after this meeting. You are dismissed.”
Cee and Quasar bowed their head, thanking them, and they headed back to their room.
As Ratchet was on calls with the senior mechs previously mentioned, Drift was writing a very short report about the meeting to send to Echo and the psychologist to give them the latest update on their names, tasks and what team they’d join for their apprenticeship.
Since he was at it while on call with First Aid, Ratchet asked about any new development with Rodimus. The mech had been stabilized and his jaw was as good as new, but he clearly didn’t want to talk to anybody and preferred staying isolated in observation room. Overhearing this, only made Drift feel a tighter grip of guilt around his spark.
Ratchet got on his feet –struggling a bit due to his weight- and approached his conjunx, getting a firm hold of his hand. Drift stood up as well, gently pressing his crest against Ratchet’s.
“Regret is gnawing at my spark…”
Bringing his hands to his lips, Ratchet kissed those newly patched up knuckles of his, “Give him some time. And yourself too. You’re both adult bots, you’ll figure it out.”
“Brave of you to call Rodimus that…”
“I know it’s a stretch, but I have no other word for it.” He puffed out his cheeks, “I’ll have a word with him soon.”
“Just… be patient. Please?”
“I know, I know. Either way, the damage has been done, dealt with and we heard the reasons and the thought process. Be assured, love, I’m not kicking him out.”
“Ah, thank you.” Drift kissed his crest while his hands automatically moved south, eager to caress the bump and make him relax. “Uh… someone is agitated.”
“Yeah, he’s been moving since I shook hands with Cee… out of nowhere. I presume he felt his EM?”
As response, Drift’s EM hummed and pulsed at its own very characteristic rhythm, a signature that Crux immediately recognized as his sire’s and slowly calmed down, giving Ratchet some relief. “He must have wondered Who the hell was that?! Who dared touching my carrier?!” He snorted, rubbing his companion’s belly’s sides with his thumbs.
Ratchet moved his arms over his shoulders as support, “I see where he got the exuberance,”
“I also hope he got my good charm,” Drift wiggled his brows, grinning.
The doctor made a face, “I only hope he didn’t get your charming pain-in-the-aft attitude,” He barely held a snort.
“Ehy, I thought it was your favorite thing of me,”
“I won’t answer that,”
Drift laughed and kissed his crest, “Want to lie down?”
But Ratchet shook his head. “Want me to run some diagnostics?” He meant about his code acting up, “What did you see?”
“Hmm… it was after Cee and I locked optics… my UI ran an analysis on him and I had the command to protect him.”
Ratchet frowned deeply. “Are you sure your sire protocol isn’t affected by something more than the quantum travelling? Why would you have to protect him? Because he was the youngest in the room? Is it that confused?”
“Please, do give me a check-up, Ratty,” He pled in a sigh.
As expected, there was a slight imbalance of hormones and Drift’s code seemed to loop over some commands as if on overrun. The only thing Ratchet could do was to give him a relaxant and through a shared wired connection, he tried to rearrange the scanning commands, but kept finding a small glitch that kept looping over a variable that he couldn’t understand where it was from. As Ratchet worked, Drift could see everything in his UI, columns of codes running up his vision, yet he never moved his optics off his conjunx. He looked at him with such deep adoration, and the more he admired how deeply he focused in his tasks, the more he seemed simply entranced by his presence alone.
“Drift,” Ratchet warmly called him to attention.
“Mhm?” His fingers had started travelling over the doctor’s wire, gently caressing the length in the middle and climbing up to the base.
“You’re being a distraction,”
“A welcomed one?”
He playfully slapped his hand off the wire, “Let me work,”
Drift pouted for half a second, but still smiled unable to stop himself. He couldn’t help it but to simply observe his companion as he worked, his fingers fast on the keyboard as he typed all the possible commands he could use, the dosage of supplements Drift should take and a list of other things as he examined his medical record while scanning through their wiring. Aside from the little imbalance, Drift was in great shape and his frame was adjusting well for the arrival of the sparkling.
Drift’s audials twitched as he got an idea and Ratchet didn’t even have to turn to face him to know he was up to something. He also knew already what he was going to try out. With a sigh, Ratchet let him, still scoffing entertained.
The swordmech concentrated through their connection, deep into Ratchet’s most inner coding, level under level under level... ironically almost as if he was looking into his very own soul, travelling as a speck of light in the darkness of his mind. He eventually met another small speck of light, bright and obviously familiar. He approached it without fear and for a few wonderful moments the two lights danced in the dark, spiraling one around the other with intimacy and warmth.
Drift had closed his optics and only then he opened his right one to peek at Ratchet, who sat next to him with a look on his face that was both warm and saying “You’re being a distraction again,” but the doctor never said those words out loud and never interrupted him. Their hands reached for one another and their dance continued.
The two lights slowly spiraled closer until they softly touched and Drift’s EM pulsed out of instinct with a rhythm native to him and only him, causing a natural response from Ratchet, whose EM pulsed as opposite, completing the waving harmony that sealed their connection.
There was a very faint and sudden tinkle, almost indistinguishable in the silence of their minds... and yet they both heard it, causing their dance to stop. They both looked at each other with a questioning look. Ratchet’s optics darted down to his own abdomen for half a second and he grinned, fascinated. Drift copied him, but his expression also showed a hint of fear. His hand gently moved to Ratchet’s belly.
The two lights moved around in circle in the dark, one next to the other and emitted together a strong pulse. They waited only for a short moment as a very feeble response came from very far, stunning them into place. The tiniest of lights finally emerged from the darkness and wobbly approached the couple...
Drift jolted up from his seat, dangerously tagging too hard on the wired connection, risking to cause a painful detachment. Luckily it didn’t happen thanks to Ratchet’s quick response as he got on his feet too, grabbing his arm to steady him. The doctor was laughing out loud, enthusiastic and very surprised. Drift’s light had disappeared from the scenario and Ratchet’s was immediately responding to the scared little light, whirling fast towards it to pacify it. The doctor’s EM was pulsing strong in the big hope to calm down both sire and sparkling.
“That’s!! That’s..!!!” Drift’s IU was completely haywire with a fast list of commands flashing in front of his vision and his companion felt the whole thing through the connection.
“Mhm,” The medic nodded slowly, his grip on him now more firm and yet incredibly calming. “That’s Crux,” He spoke softly, sending controlling commands to make him relax. Ratchet couldn’t truly understand why Drift was so agitated...
Although, within a few short moments, Drift did calm down and both returned to their seats, “He has never...”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Ratchet said, half laughing and holding his hands in his, “Come back and say hi to him properly,”
“...and apologize,” he chuckled, “I must have scared him...” He received a small peck between his optics and he quickly returned to shine as a bright little light, ready to dance along side his conjunx and his shy, tiny sparkling.
Within a shaky in-vent, Drift leaned against Ratchet’s shoulder, sneakily closing his arms protectively around him and letting his EM pulse into its own rhythmic song. The tiny light of Crux shyly moved away from Ratchet’s, moving towards his, singing along with his own weak pulsing, obviously trying to match the rhythm. Pride made Drift’s spark swell like he never felt before.
He slowly realized how much pressed against his partner he was only when he felt arms tightening around his shoulders and there Drift simply allowed himself in being engulfed in the marvelous warmth, listening to Ratchet’s vents humming and to their sparkling’s first singing.
“I’m doubling your supplements,” Ratchet said within a warm chuckle, “your sire protocol is on fire,” and Drift could only nod, covering his optics in the useless attempt to stop his happy tears from falling.
It’s been a few hours since Ratchet’s last check on Echo and the poor mech was still deeply wired to the communication system as the download was almost at the very end. He looked exhausted and Ratchet had to forbid him from wanting to activate the call with Optimus, he’d get a minimum (2h) of intense recharge, he liked it or not, Doctor’s and Captain’s order. Ratchet’s only request was to add a note for Optimus to read, to be ready to be called (4h) after the download. Echo tried to insist he could do it right after the recharge, but Ratchet forbid that too.
“Ratchet, sir,” Ultra Magnus approached Echo’s station, stopping in front of the captain and being at attention, “Request to continue the shift,” He added, a bit cheekily.
“You know you need time to recharge as well, right?” Ratchet said, giving him a glaring look.
“Allow me to stay until the end of Echo’s task.”
Ratchet turned to the sparkeater, “How long?”
“About (1,5h),” He replied tiredly.
“Ratchet, it’s ok,” Drift approached too. He had taken over navigation about an hour prior and so far there was nothing new to the horizon. “Take some more rest, Magnus doesn’t mind.”
With a deep glare and a huff, the medic grumbled, “Look at this mutiny. Alright, alright. I’ll be in my room, update me as soon as possible and that’s an order.” He turned on his heels and walked out of the cockpit while the others really tried to not smile. The only one showing concern was Drift, though. He well knew Ratchet wouldn’t go to rest and where he’d go instead. Guilt was again gnawing at his spark for what he did to his friend.
“First Aid,” Ratchet was still walking down the corridor when called for the CMO on their private channel. Of course he wouldn’t sit still, he was not in the mood to rot on his own berth.
“At your service!” The other mech chimed in.
“Any news?”
“...No. He still doesn’t want to see anybody.”
Ratchet didn’t even skip a beat. “Tell him I’m coming.”
“Ratchet, wait-”
“I’m tired of this brat-like behaviour of his, I better find the door open, Aid.”
The other medic sighed heavily. “Alright, alright. You’re the boss.”
Despite the roughness on the call, when Ratchet arrived in the medbay, at Rodimus’ closed door, he knocked with a gentle hand, announcing himself. He exchanged a look with First Aid as they heard no response from inside the room.
“Rodimus, please.” Ratchet insisted, but still kept a calm tone.
There was a weak reply from the other side of the door and he was allowed in. Ratchet nodded at First Aid thanking him for the patience and stepped inside.
The room was small, having only the necessary for a bot under medical care, with dim lights to not bother the patients as they rested. In the very corner of the room, Rodimus sat on the berth, hugging his legs close to his chest, his left side to the wall.
The younger bot only raised his optics to greet him, lowering them immediately. “Did he really send you to apologize? That won’t wor- WOAH! EHY!”
Ratchet had walked up to him, not really caring about his sulking, and grabbed him by the chin forcing him to turn his head, sitting on the berth. “Nobody sent me here, kid.” He gave the thin patchwork on his jaw a very quick check, “You’ll live, barely a scratch you got.” As he released him, Rodimus pressed himself against the wall, looking dumbstruck.
“Scratch, my aft, doc!” He whined and pouted, rubbing his fixed cheek, but the more he had Ratchet’s optics on him, the more he realized how childish he was being and corrected himself. He sat properly next to him, his optics darting for a brief second to Ratchet’s abdomen, “...Shouldn’t you be resting?” He almost whispered with a genuine worried tone.
“I had plenty. I needed to see how you were doing. Both due to being the captain and your friend.”
Rodimus pouted again, looking away. “I’m alright. How... How’s Drift?”
“He’s mortified... He tried to come here to talk to you, but the medics sent him away due to your request.”
“Oh... yeah...” He suddenly fidgeted uncomfortably, drumming his fingers on the edge of the berth, “Ratchet, listen... what I said... I’m sure you listened to the recordings... I, uh, I’m sorry for what I said about you,”
“I took no offence,” Ratchet said quickly, yet truthfully, “The talk you had with Drift was messy, he was angry and he shouldn’t have stepped in. You both said things you regret and you two will sort things out when you’ll be ready.”
Rodimus nodded, but still looked incredibly tense. “Regarding the incident... listen, Drift was right... he’s always been so right about me all this time! I thought I was doing good, I would have never hurt anyone on this ship! I made a mistake, a huge mistake and I’m so very goddamn sorry!” Rage was hissing through his teeth, his optics deeply colored with sorrow and regret, “I should have listened to Magnus, but instead I went after the stupid dream of glory, I wanted to show off and I gambled, Ratchet! I gambled! I shouldn’t have! I shouldn’t have, goddamnit!” At this point he was on his feet, pacing back and forth, stopping only to cover his face with both hands.
Ratchet sighed deeply, allowing him to vent, standing up only when the other mech lowered his hands, confused by the lack of reaction. “You sure did, kid,” He dryly agreed, moving his hands behind his back, “And I hope you realize it’ll have consequences,”
With a sudden in-vent, Rodimus was sharply reminded he was standing in front of the captain, “R-Ratchet, I...” He sighed trying to recover some dignity and stood at attention, head low, “Yes, sir.”
“I’m afraid I cannot allow you back at navigation nor in the cockpit, you’re degraded to civilian for the time being.”
Rodimus nodded, expecting that outcome. “Yes, sir...May I know how is everybody else?”
“You don’t have to worry that much, kid, nobody is badly injured and honestly? I think they already forgot about it. The ship is in good conditions, repairs have been done quickly. Only catch is quantum travelling not being possible, although we’re not that far from our destination, we might reach it in less than (a month).”
Rodimus nodded again, slightly relieved, but only for a brief moment, “All this Enheterium mess is all because of me... Maybe I should have stayed on Cybertron,” He looked up when he felt a hand over his shoulder.
“Very true, very true, but in his mess I can easily say we got good things out of it, many people onboard are safe because they could reach us through the portals,” Rodimus never thought about it, indeed all the quantum passengers were probably still alive due to his mistake. Ratchet quickly caught his enthusiasm growing and squeezed his shoulder hard to keep him with his feet on the ground, “One word of you being an hero...”
“Ehy -ouch!- I deserve some silver lining here!”
“You don’t wanna know what you really deserve, kid,” Ratchet said deadpan.
Rodimus quickly moved a hand to his hurt cheek, “Ehy, I already got a good wallop...”
“And I think Drift should have done that centuries ago! Multiple times!”
Now Rodimus really pouted, but at that point he could only agree with him...
“I’ll talk to Optimus,” After a long moment of silence, Ratchet offered with a smile, “I think his guidance can only be a good thing. Would you like to work with him again if he accepts?”
That answer was almost instinctive, quick and easy, “Of course! Like good old times, I’d love that. I don’t see why he wouldn’t accept, I was his favorite!” At that, the medic rolled his optics big time...
“It settles it then,” Ratchet gave him a couple of good pats on the back and headed to the door.
“Ratchet?” the other turned, “Thank you. I’ll... I’ll make up for it, I promise.”
The medic nodded with a soft smile, “I know you will. Have some rest for now, we’ll meet later,”
Rodimus didn’t have to wait for long for Drift to knock at his door, when his shift was over he pretty much headed towards the medbay in the hopes to talk to his friend. He was welcomed in immediately and the two sat together having, at first, a good spark to spark talk with reciprocal apologies, then he very quickly turned into their usual silly, energetic banter like the Amica endura that they were, where they also panned out a list of the things to do for fun on Earth. It mostly included reckless racing in dangerous areas and, who knew, maybe also Crux would join them eventually, but Drift was quick to smother the energy down on that topic and immediately settled Crux out of the dangerous equation.
--- Earth ---
The loud rumble of two young engines echoed alongside the thunders as they climbed up the mountains, splattering through mud, pine cones, low branches and a lot of knotty thick roots that escaped the ground as if to make a messy staircase. The two Terrans were laughing, racing each other up the steep climb and revving their motors loudly each time they jumped on a huge rock on their path. The rain made it more challenging, but neither of them seemed bothered by it in the least, instead they seemed to have more fun. It wasn’t unusual to spot Thrash transforming mid-jump to either get out of an obstacle or to simply show off and Atlan was quick to call him out for cheating.
“I didn’t see it among the rules, man!” The white kibbled Terran laughed out loud as he transformed back into a bike, splashing mud as he landed in a stream.
So it was on and Atlan started doing the very same, giving Thrash an hard time to keep up for either being faster or quite distracting posing mid-air... Thrash’s vents so muddied up he almost overheated.
The last stretch of the climb was a little bit steeper and the two needed quite a push to overcome that last bit. They both ended up flying over the edge, rearing up so much they risked to do a backward half-flip over the guardrail and crash-land, but purely out of instinct they both transformed and landed heavily on the gravel of the restaurant courtyard, miraculously missing all the parked cars.
They lied flat there, absolutely dirty, laughing and panting, heavy droplets hammering over their metal frame.
“I won,” Atlan tiredly exclaimed as he sat up, leaning on a hand.
“Nah, man, I landed first!” Thrash was starfishing on the gravel, only raising his thumbs to point at himself as winner. He was wearing his goggles, but at that point there was so much mud and muck and pine needles on them that he could see absolutely nothing and the rain was making it worse.
“Eh, I saw your aft land after me, mate,”
“You wish!” He sat up pulling up the goggles and Atlan abruptly burst out laughing. “Whu- What?”
“Allow me,” Atlan blinked to take a picture and sent it directly to him in their private chat. Thrash too had a good laugh upon inspection, the only clean part of his face was his optics.
“You don’t look any better, man!” He did the very same thing and Atlan laughed even harder when he saw himself.
“Please, tell me they have a bathroom here.”
“Something better, they have a T-entrance,” he pointed out at the mansion where a nice canopy stretched out from the entrance. T-entrances were small cleaning standard portals for Terrans, very appreciated when weather was less than optimal. In short it was a very compact car-wash for bipeds. Humans liked to get into those for fun of course. To the side of the canopy there was the glass door for people to use.
The mansion was an old building visibly restructured for tourism, but still maintained the old charm of the original Gothic look. Right behind the main building the ruins of the medieval styled tower reigned over the forest. Immediately Atlan asked if they could visit it after dinner and Thrash was more than happy to oblige.
The restaurant was already half full, they noticed, and there were more people arriving parking in the courtyard. Useless to say Thrash was immediately recognized and given a warm welcome by the oldest members of the team, the ones he worked with. There was no need to ask, after some light teasing about him having a “plus one” they were given one of the best tables with a view on the garden from one of the biggest windows. Atlan was simply in awe by the many vivid colors of the plants and he would have loved a tour even under the rain.
When their food arrived, Atlan got suddenly an email. “Ah... forgive me, it’s from the Academy.” He read it with speed, looking quite surprised. “I’m asked to cover for Professor Malto for an additional week...” He looked up at Thrash, “Is your sibling ok?”
“Wait, what...?” Thrash quickly pulled up the chat he shared with his siblings, which he had intentionally ignored as he was staying with Atlan, thinking it was the usual shitposting full of memes and random talk, he wasn’t expecting anything serious. A few hours back Nightshade was found out by Dr. Sharpenclaw in the lab and sent home after a good scolding. There was a lot of teasing Nightshade by the siblings, but soon everyone wished them to really rest and get better soon, often wrapped up with a comforting “dumbass” at the end. He snorted, “They were caught at work when they should have been home on sick leave. Hold on,” he typed in the chat,
Thrash: I go away for a few hours and chaos happens, uh
Hashtag: Shuddup
Twitch: Yo Wheelie-bin finally you grace us with your response! Where you at?
JB: It was chaotic and embarrassing, thank you...
Thrash: How’s Shade? Still in one piece or Sharpenclaw used them for fowl hunt practice?
Twitch: *gif of a guy holding an axe saying: I axed you a question*
Hashtag: Believe it or not, they are asleep
Thrash: About time! So they need to keep the cast on for another week?
Hashtag: Yep
Twitch: Stop ignoring meeee
JB: Where are you, bro?
Thrash: Little Fort Ruins
Twitch: Oh sure answer the dino, not your twin, thanks
JB: *gif of a cartoony pachycephalosaurus being smug and showing its tongue*
Hashtag: What you doing up there?
Twitch: Wait you there with Atlan?
Hashtag: Woah you took him to the fancy restaurant????
In that moment, Thrash took half a second longer to start typing and the chat exploded with a series of hearts, a waterfall of teasing that got so intense that even Robby and Mo -who were busy studying with their classmates in their respective rooms- joined in and there chaos ensued for real. Thrash snappily closed the chat, his vents whirring loudly and hot.
“Siblings, uh?” There was no need for Atlan to know the content of the chat to understand what was going on. His vents started whirring too, softly, and he was smiling, leaning his cheek on a propped hand.
That made Thrash burn up even more, that he grabbed his drink and gulped it down so fast that steam came out from his vents, fogging up his side of the window. “You’re lucky you only have three,” he grumbled, coughing once to clear his openings.
“Trust me, they are plenty themselves.” He chuckled.
“...They’ve been teasing you too, uh?” Thrash asked with a new-found smugness.
Atlan quickly hid behind his glass, now he was the one whirring hot. He gulped down, ignoring his question. “So, what happened to Nightshade?”
The other Terran snorted at his reaction, “Sharpenclaw caught them, scolded them, forced them to keep the cast for another week and sent them home. I guess he later informed their bosses.”
“And the principal got to me,” he looked at the email he still had on his holo-screen.
“You’re accepting?” The tone of his voice failed to cover a possible hint of excitement.
“Of course!” He answered, mirroring that same excitement, “I’d be honored to continue teaching here a little longer, not that I have much to do at home anyway.” He chuckled and sent a fast response to the email. Within a bit, he received a confirmation of his longer stay and that all the documents will be updated and sent him in copy the next day. “I do wish your sibling to get better soon though, they seem quite annoyed by the cast.”
“Oh, you have no idea, our sister Twitch is always there to scratch them with a puffy duster,”
“Have they gone out when they should have stayed home already?”
Thrashed laughed, “Oh, have they! I got so mad, man...” He gave him a nice round-up of the occasions where his sibling sneaked out to go check how things were going at work and how they pretty much forced his superior to make them work remotely... and still sneaked out for research.
At that point, Atlan was in tear from laughing out loud.
Their meal was plentiful and delicious and the two ended up talking pretty much about favorite games, music, movies... Thrash wasn’t expecting Atlan to be a metal head, he talked about his favorite human bands like Sonata Artica, Hammerfall, Sabaton, names that meant absolutely nothing to Thrash due to him not being a fan of the genre, although he knew a few names like the human band Heavysaurus and the Terran band Cyber-Rex because those were JB’s favorite ones, but nothing else. Movies and games were more on the line for both enjoying a very nice number of the same ones and Atlan gingerly wondered if they could have a game together at Mario Kart.
“I guess we could have a nice friendly match,”
“Awh, no, mate,” Atlan sent a glare at him that made him shiver, “I’m going to destroy you,”
The silence that dropped between them was so thick and awkward that they just burst out laughing.
There were no programmed tour that day due to the weather, but they were still allowed to browse around the garden, much to Atlan’s joy, who seemed incredibly fascinated by the flora, taking a lot of pictures and notes, and Thrash walked lazily nearby letting him having his moment, not fully acknowledging that he’d been staring at him the same way Atlan was looking at the flowers.
On their way out, Thrash sneakily bought one of the biggest books on display with the story of the mansion, the legends, the many ghost stories and an in-deep section of the many kind of plants, and gave it to him.
“Are you serious?” Atlan giggled, surprised, as he collected the paper bag inspecting its heavy content.
“Why not? You seemed very interested in the garden,”
Atlan’s vents whirred softly as he saw what his friend got for him. He gasped, chuckling, “You’re nuts.” He said warmly, hugging the big book, “Thank you, thank you so much. Eh, now you’ll have me on your conscience knowing I won’t recharge for at least three days as I’ll study this brick.”
“A crit I’m willing to take,” He winked, “My pleasure, man. Come on, I’ll get you home.”
“My only hope is that the main road isn’t as muddy as the shortcut,”
“Who said we’re taking the main?” If it wasn’t for the struggle he showed to not laugh, Atlan would have almost believed him. He very much risked a punch in the arm.
The return to the Village took a long while, a bit longer due to some traffic and the rain that still heavily poured down. The two bikes were very glad to be out of the road when they finally reached Atlan’s complex.
“Well then,” Thrash exclaimed shaking the last droplets off his arms, “Same time tomorrow? I could take you to the arcade,”
“Careful, Vents, I’m a pro at Street Fighters II,” Atlan transformed, catching the book as it slipped out from his saddle compartment.
Thrash tsk’d, “Prove it,”
“Is that a challenge?”
“You scared, mate?” Thrash really tried for the Australian accent, but failed so hard that made Atlan genuinely laugh.
“Ah, leave that to me,” He suddenly frowned, “Even though my original accent is a bit washed out at this point... and my Texan accent is horrific.”
“Nah, you sound fine, but I bet the figures of speech have changed, uh?”
“Oh absolutely, even in Scotland was a jarring change.” He snorted.
An awkward silence dropped between the two, who couldn’t stop smiling at each other for a long moment, both feeling as if they needed to say something, but none having the guts to speak first, not until Thrash cleared his voice box.
“Well, I’ll let you rest...I, ah... thanks for today.” He bit his lips a bit embarrassed and made to turn around when Atlan stepped forward.
“Thrash, wait,” he froze when the other Terran locked optics with him, “I... about today...If you ever need someone to talk to, even for the smallest thing, you can call me,” he gulped, “I don’t know how qualified I can be for this, but I’m always willing to listen... if you want of course,”
Thrash blinked, a soft smile formed on his face, touched. “I’m glad you’re the one with more guts than me on this,”
“I mean it,” Atlan pressed confident.
He nodded and shyly offered “You too can call me anytime if you need anything, I like talking to you,”
The red Terran blinked pleased and his expression quickly softened, “You’re a sweet mech, you know that? If I can do anything to help, I’ll gladly do it for you,”
At that point Thrash’s vents were whirring so hot he couldn’t even keep optic contact. He sharply looked away trying his best to look casual. He coughed aloud once in the vague hope to hide his noisy blushing, “W-What you told me today, I will see what to tell my family, I have a lot of thinking to do, but I’ll do it. You’re right about keeping them updated despite everything.”
“I will too on my side... I’ll try.”
“Let’s keep each other updated then,” They both shyly nodded and took each other’s hand in an affectionate shake. “Try to not read it all in one night, ok?”
Atlan took a moment to understand what he meant before realizing he was talking about the book he was holding, “Oh! I, uh, can’t make any promises on that,”
And with that, Thrash settled it, “Have a good night, then. Remember, 3pm out of class and I want you pumped up ready for the match of the century!”
“The loser pays for all the drinks!”
“Deal!”
“And send me a message when you get home, this time try to not fall asleep,”
Giving him a last look, Thrash grinned and transformed, performing a cheeky donut under the rain before dashing away.
The ride back home was silent, Thrash didn’t even listen to the radio, his head full of thoughts. He wasn’t even speeding, going to an uncharacteristic slow pace on the highway, keeping the right to not bother other drivers. He didn’t go that far off when he just decided to stop to a rest area, transforming to lean on the guardrail, barely noticing the rain finally transformed into a cold drizzle.
Usually situations like that made him angry, too much thinking, too much unresolved stuff, he hated that heavy weight he had been carrying for years, although talking to Atlan had sparked something in him that made him simply at ease. There was a lot on his mind in that moment and he really needed to sort it out, but for the first time he wasn’t negative about it. He still needed to get it out of his system though and the only thing that could help him was a precise exercise.
Way over deep in the dark of the landscape stood Sp.Ark. HQ and the temptation to just climb over the guardrail grew in him.
He huffed in a long sigh and suddenly snorted, just realizing then how the interaction he just had with Atlan went. He couldn’t believe he called him sweet and his vents flared up once again, but that time he let them puff as long as it was needed. He decided that he was going to keep his word to him and the first step was to get thoughts in order. He gingerly hopped over the guardrail and drove into the wild grass patch down the hill and into the open field, he bet Elita wouldn’t mind a bit of mud.
Dorothy was fixing the last things at home, getting ready to watch a late movie with Alex, finally relieved that Nightshade was taking a good rest downstairs in the bunker, JB had left a while ago, but Hashtag was with them so both parents were at ease.
Her phone rang as she got a message and she frowned wondering who could be that late. Seeing it was Elita, her heart sank.
“Dot, Thrash is here with me. He oddly doesn’t look upset, but I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Honey?” Alex walked up to her holding a big bucket of popcorn, “What is it?” She showed him the message and he later rubbed her arm, sighing. “Let’s let him have it, dear, we’ll talk to him in the morning,”
They both knew that it was better that way, let him vent, let him discharge, show him they were always there for him, though the temptation to call him and ask if he was ok was immense, but doing that could only make it worse as they knew from a past experience. The movie was on, but quickly forgotten, neither of the parents were paying it any attention despite being one of their favorites. They weren’t even an hour in that Hashtag and Nightshade awkwardly burst in from the main door holding a note.
Atlan saw Thrash go, disappearing under the rain and waited until he couldn’t see him anymore to then walk inside. He walked upstairs to his apartment and locked the door behind himself. He leaned against it for a solid minute, holding tightly the book in his arms, did he really call him sweet?! He didn’t mean the slip to happen, but it was the truth. His own vents took a while to stop whirring.
He later got online lying in berth to sent all the photos he took of the day to his sisters in their private chat, realizing way too late that among them there were the pic he took of Thrash and the one he sent of him.
His sisters went wild and immediately called him in a video call.
Stella: “OMG look at these two SO CUTE!”
Jane: “You got a dirty bot there, Casanova”
Hazel: “Indeed you enjoyed the view uhhhh????”
That’s it, his reputation was ruined.
Jane was laughing the loudest: “What the hell were you doing in the mud?”
Atlan was trying to hide in the dark of his room, his voice full of embarrassment: “Guys shut the fuck up! We were climbing a mountain!”
Jane: “You sure you weren’t climbing him?!”
Atlan: “JANE!”
The girls were laughing so hard their voices broke in static in the call.
Jane: “Man, stop revving your engine at me, I was joking!”
Atlan scoffed annoyed: “Cut your hormone doses, princess!”
Jane: “Touchy coffeemaker I see!”
Stella: “Cut it out both of you!”
Hazel was looking intensely at her own screen, analyzing the pictures: “You know, I saw him on the news a long while ago, but he surely didn’t look this nice. Despite the mud, he looks like a sweetheart,”
Atlan moved something off-screen, probably his drink, and suddenly launched himself to catch it as something heavy dropped: “Fuck fuck fuck...!”
Stella: “Try to not destroy your new home, dude,”
Atlan reappeared in the camera holding the new book and a few tissues to dry it up, luckily it was laminated and didn’t get damaged.
Jane: “Ohi, you got a new book and haven’t told us? Now, that is rude,”
Atlan showed the cover to the camera so they could see: “It’s about the place I just visited,”
Stella: “Didn’t you once said No more hardcovers, I don’t have any room on my shelves? That thing is bigger than a stone used for the pyramids,”
Atlan’s fingers drummed nervously on the cover, “He got it for me...”
The ladies all sang in chorus, a loud “Ohhhhh!”
Jane: “Oh my, he’s a keeper,”
Stella: “That’s so sweet!”
Hazel: “I’m getting the wedding dress,”
Atlan put the book down, a bit angrily and groaned at the screen: “Guys! Guys! Enough with this shit! Please! I had a long day...”
The three sisters sharply stopped laughing as they saw him rub his optics and avoid to look at the camera, all the cheerfulness gone.
Jane was the first to approach: “Honey, what happened?”
Atlan took a long moment to answer, barely making eye contact: “We had a break on the way to the mansion and... I don’t even remember how it started, but in the end we had quite a talk and...” He moved his hand in the air in a vague gesture. He sighed not giving any other info about it. “...Is dad home?”
Stella: “Yes, of course, he’s downstairs.”
Hazel: “Lanny, what’s wrong? You can tell us,”
Atlan: “It’s nothing that you don’t know already... I just need to clear some things with dad.”
The three ladies seemed to understand and also looked at one another through the cameras with a bit of hope.
Atlan: “Listen, guys, I’ll call you later, I need to think,”
Jane: “Alright, coffeemaker,” her tone was sweet and understanding, “You know where to find us,”
Stella: “Join us anytime, we’ll be here playing until dawn anyway,”
Hazel: “You know we always need a fourth!”
Atlan smiled at them and quickly told them he loved them all before closing the call.
Unbeknownst to him, all three ladies got out from their rooms and rushed to give their dad a heads-up for when Atlan would call him to have a talk. Unfortunately though, it didn’t arrive in the imminent minute...
Atlan sat on his bed, staring blankly at the holo-screen popping out from his gauntlet, staring at the contact of his dad. He falsely started a call a couple of time, interrupting it before it’d go through. He could feel his spark twirl fast in its casing and so many of his abdomen wires contracting in spasms of nervousness.
He took a shower.
Had a hot drink.
Tried to watch a movie.
The clock on the wall said it was 3:19am when he finally returned to the contact and pressed “Call” without interrupting it.
His father had been waiting for him the whole time, only snoozing a little bit on the couch, but he was quick to answer.
“Hi, dad...” Atlan could barely hold his tears from falling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry for calling so late, but... you have a minute?”
It wasn’t long before his tears became happy ones and that became the longest call he ever had with his father.