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Finding the Good Within	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Crossovers Views: 3108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 18
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- 20
New Sparks

“I’m fine!” she growled as she slowly slid from the exam table and disconnected the drip line. Her optics flaming as she glared at him, challenging him to disagree with her.

Wheeljack cocked his head and looked curiously at the femme. Her optics were swirling in almost a pure blue color now. Possibly indicating how mature the sparklings were. “That’s what you led us to believe when you were preparing to fly to the refinery,” he shot back. After witnessing her little public fight with Mirage, there was no way he was going to ever be cowed by the arrogant femme again. They were equals, the mechs and the femme. And she’d just have to deal with the new reality.

Briefly she considered backhanding his aft across the room, but she’d given her freagin’ word to that pathetic Mirage. Grumbling, she stopped her hand in mid-swing and glared at the mech in disgust. Bringing her arm back to her chassis, she crossed her arms and snorted derisively. That’s when she noticed that her air frame felt different. She looked down at her chassis at about the same time that Wheeljack also noticed a difference.

Her very structure was beginning to shift now. Her wings retracting within her as her very carbide skin seemed to be turning into a silvery metal liquid phase. “Frag it!” she snarled, realizing that she was nearing the final stage of budding separation.

Putting his hand firmly against her shoulder, Wheeljack forced her to sit back down. “Told you that you weren’t ‘fine’ – you gonna listen to me now?” he asked.

She snorted in disgust as she was forced to lie back down and let the mech reconnect the drip line. The humiliation of being forced to depend on these traitorous bastards for her very life! “Primus can kiss my fraggin’ aft. The slogger!” she snarled as her chassis was raked with the first insidious waves of pain.

Wheeljack patted her shape shifting chest in sympathy. In a sense he did feel a little sorry for the arrogant femme. It would be horrible to go through life hating everything about your life. Not knowing, or even understanding, love. But she had proven that she’d keep her word. He’d seen the struggle in her optics when she had so wanted to backhand him – and had refrained from doing so. So perhaps she really wasn’t that bad. Perhaps she was just bitter about her lot in life. Maybe she’d learn to soften up through this experience? See that the mechs just wanted to simply get along with her? “It’s ok Hunter, we’ll get you through this,” he promised.

She trembled as another wave of agony tore through her networks. Her very spark now becoming obvious as her air frame shifted into a true protoform. The sphere of it glowed within her translucent chest, tendrils of red, yellow and blue mixing together. She became just a formless humanoid shape then, her features blending together. The silver protoform violently smashed her head back against the table, screaming in total agony as she writhed.

‘-She’s budding!-’ Wheeljack radioed to the others. His excitement was obvious in his tone, even as he drew his optic ridges together in concern for the femme. He’d known that it would be painful to her. But the strong femme’s behavior was indicating that the agony was far beyond anything the former slaves had had to endure. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand. His instinct to somehow comfort her in this time of need, forced him to act.

Mirage and Grapple ran into the med bay, glancing at each other in horror at the level of torment obvious in the protoform’s screams. Coming up, they surrounded the exam table. They laid their hands on the writhing silver humanoid as they looked at each other in shock.

“Primus, I knew she’d be in pain but -” Mirage stammered as he looked down at the incoherent protoform. Another energon-curdling scream reverberated from the bulkheads as she arched up. Her very skin seemed to be bubbling off of her.

This was like the worse horror flick he’d ever seen. But it wasn’t fiction – the poor femme was actually having to live through it! “You know, I actually feel sorry for her,” Grapple muttered as he helped to hold her down. His mates nodded in agreement.

“No wonder she hates mechs so much. If I knew that I’d have to go through this – I’d hate us too,” Wheeljack stated. He cringed as she painfully tightened her fingers around his. The torment on her protoform face almost too ghastly to look at! He waved his other hand over her optics. “Hunter? Can you hear us?” he asked.

She gave no response to him. Continuing to writhe and scream in agony. Some of the bubbles on the surface of her abdomen seemed to be combining, growing in size. Like a disease-filled pustule that needed to burst.

“Her meta’s totally consumed by the pain,” Wheeljack informed the others.

“Frag, that’s worst than what we went through,” Mirage muttered in dismay as he had to use all of his strength to hold her down as she writhed.

“Yes, even through the worst of the breaking in, I still knew what was going on around me,” Grapple replied. The memories of those early day cycles of his captivity weighed heavily on his meta as he added more pressure to his hydraulic lines, struggling to help keep her on the table.

The pustule on her abdomen was slowly getting larger. For astrohours, the mechs held her down as they assisted. Their metas not quite able to believe the sheer amount of agony that Primus was requiring of this femme! The fact that she had willingly searched for mates in order to accomplish this task.

Finally, with weariness in their optics, the mechs watched as the pulsating, swirling orb that was her very spark, began to change shape. First, becoming almost an oval; then the colors seemed to shift as one end became bluer and bluer. The mechs gasped in wonder as the oval began to lengthen, as it slowly split into two distinct orbs within the protoform’s chest region.

“That’s the sparkling!” Wheeljack yelled in excitement as he held the writhing femme’s shoulders down to the table with all of his might.

Excitement filled the weary mechs, giving them renewed energy as they held her in place. The glowing blue sphere of the new spark flowed into the huge pustule growing from her abdomen. The silver organo-metallic liquid shifting shape, growing rapidly… A head becoming distinctive.. Then its arms.. It reached out towards the nearest mech. As if pleading for him to hold it.

Nodding at Mirage, Grapple leaned his entire chassis across the femme’s writhing legs. Freeing the spy to touch the sparkling as it cried out… Gently, he wrapped his arms protectively around its formed torso, holding it as its lower chassis slowly coalesced into solidity. With a final agonized scream, the femme on the table relaxed. Whimpering weakly as her systems began to cool.

Wheeljack checked the hydrocarbon bags and added a bag filled with energon to the rack then. Making sure that the drips were properly connected to her primary reserves… He was amazed as her carbide skin began to solidify again. Her spark now hidden from view again… His job done for her, he now went to Mirage to check on the sparkling.

Mirage smiled at him as he cradled the silvery protoform protectively in his arms. A weak cry could be heard emanating from the small creature. He carried the sparkling over to the other exam table and carefully laid it down. All three mechs leaning over it in fascination as Wheeljack examined it…

Touching its silver-skinned abdomen, Wheeljack pressed down lightly, looking for a sensory response. The sparkling opened its blue optics and giggled at his touch. Waving its arms around as it tried to grasp anything that moved.

“It’s beautiful!” Grapple exclaimed as he couldn’t resist offering his finger to it. It immediately grabbed hold of it. Flipping itself onto its belly, it scuttled towards him on all fours. Climbing up his chest armor, finding a comfortable position against him, it clung there. Giggling contentedly as he surrounded its protoform chassis with his arm.

“Strong,” Hunter weakly whispered as she watched the sparkling’s actions with weary optics.

Grapple turned to her, walking to her and kneeling down so that the weak femme could see the sparkling gripping him. He kept one of his hands protectively on its legs, fearful that it might loose its grip and fall. The sparkling was the size of the Decepticon Rumble, which made it reasonably easy for the mech to handle it.

So weak that she was unable to so much as lift a finger to touch her firstborn, Hunter studied the cheerful sparkling with her optics. “Femme,” she whispered, “Razor.”
She lifted her optics to study the mechs as they stood there. Their happy optics watched the giggling sparkling in total adoration. She had not expected the level of agony that budding would cause her, and she knew with certainty now that there was no way she’d have survived with Decepticons tending to her. Perhaps… Perhaps there was a reason that the grandmother she had so idolized as she had grown up – had chosen an Autobot for her life mate? For even though she had treated them like the pathetic mechs they really were, they had still loyally tended to her in her time of need.

“Wheeljack?” she whispered her voice so hoarse from her screams that her words were barely audible.

Wheeljack hurried to her side, his optics full of concern for his patient. “Yes?” he asked.

She gave him her first true smile. “Thank you,” she whispered as her optics darkened in defragmentation.

The mech’s mouth fell open in surprise. Glancing up, he met the optics of his two mates. Both of whom also had their mouths agape in shock.

“Did she REALLY say what I think she said?!?” Mirage stammered.

Grapple petted the little femme clinging to him. “Maybe motherhood is calming her down?” he offered as he kissed the top of that little silver head.

Wheeljack held his arms out, his optics asking to hold the sparkling. As she eagerly climbed onto his chest plate and snuggled against him, he smiled at his two friends. “Just think, we’ll soon have three more of these little guys,” he chuckled. The little femme chuckling with him as he petted her little head…

Lifting up her face, she climbed just a tad higher and copied Grapple by kissing his facemask. Then she reached up a hand and petted him like he had done to her. This caused the three mechs to chuckle louder, which just seemed to encourage the little sparkling to continue her mimicking.

“She sure is a quick little learner,” Wheeljack chuckled as he grudgingly handed her off to Mirage.

“Yes, little Razor is a smart sparkling,” Mirage agreed as he smiled down at the little femme who was clinging to him. She reached up, touching his lips were her curious hands. Trying to copy his smile with her own lips. He wrapped his arm protectively around her. He encouraged her to explore with her hands as he held her safely to his chest plates.

“Wonder whose she is?” Grapple grinned as he couldn’t resist wiggling his fingers over her. Chuckling as she giggled in merriment while she tried to clumsily grab them. Her tracking ability still not developed yet.

Wheeljack checked on Hunter’s vitals, and then turned and resumed his playing with the giggling sparkling. “I’d hazard to guess that since Mirage was the first one to actually bond with Hunter, she’s probably his,” he said.

Mirage beamed with pride as he watched his daughter try to grab Grapple’s fingers again. “My daughter,” he said, still not quite believing that he had truly reproduced like an organic. That this perfect little creature in his arms, was half-him! He stared down at her in total fascination. Her blue optics gleamed with intelligence as she focused on the game of catching fingers. Her happy giggles filled the med bay with happiness.

“Guardians are so innocent.. So perfect when they’re born..” Grapple said as he put his other arm around Mirage. His one hand still taunted the playful little femme.

Wheeljack smiled his agreement as he couldn’t resist the urge to pet the sparkling’s silver skin again. Feeling his touch on her back, the nimble sparkling twisted her torso around and grabbed his fingers with both of her hands. “So different from us. Were are programmed to either love or hate right from the first time we activate our optics,” he said. Leaning forward, he smiled as the femme tried to climb out of Mirage’s arms, eager to explore his strange facemask.

Mirage laughed as he lowered his arms and let her climb onto the inventor. “Yes, if we were born like these mechs, perhaps there wouldn’t be this damned war,” he said. The little sparkling seemed to love and trust every mech she laid her optics on. She knew no hate, no pride…

The little femme gabbered at Wheeljack as her optics fell on the still form of her mother. Trying to climb over him, she reached out towards the table.

“That’s your mother, Razor,” Wheeljack coo-ed as he bent down so she could touch her.

Razor chattered, as she climbed down. Scuttling over the sleeping femme, she explored her chassis eagerly. Then she looked up at Grapple with a questioning expression as she tapped the carbide fuselage.

“You’re mother is asleep, she’ll wake up soon,” he assured her.

“Mother’s very tired,” Mirage added with a nod to his daughter.

She looked down again, patting the still femme. “M…. Mudder,” she stated. Scuttling up to the femme’s face, she ran curious hands over it. “Mudder,” she said again.

The mechs looked at each other in amazement at how quickly she learned. Grapple grabbed Mirage and pointed to him. “Father,” he said as the sparkling looked at him curiously. “Father,” he said again.

Wheeljack grinned and pointed at Mirage as well. “Yes, father,” he added.

Razor looked at them with a slightly confused expression. Patting Hunter she said ‘mudder’ again, and then cocked her helm as the three mechs smiled and told her how smart she was. Then the two pointed back at the black and white one and said ‘father’. She liked the attention she was getting, so she again patted the still femme under her and said ‘mudder’, beaming in happiness at the smiles on their faces. Scuttling forward, she raised her arms to the black and white mech. ‘Fudder’ she said as he lifted her up. She coo-ed at the happy words they said to her for her effort.

Snuggling up to ‘fudder’, she smiled in innocent adoration. Then she motioned to the mech with the strange face. “Fudder?” she said.

The mechs all laughed as she called Wheeljack ‘fudder’. “No, he’s Uncle Jack,” Mirage told her. She looked up at him in confusion. “Uncle Jack,” he said as he pointed to him.

She thought about it for a second. “Unnle Thack,” she said as she reached out to him. She giggled in happiness as she climbed into his arms. “Unnle Thack,” she said over-and-over. Then she turned to the yellow/orange mech and reached out to him with questioning optics.

“Uncle Grap,” he told her as he let her climb onto him. She studied him for a second. “Uncle Grap,” he said again.

“Unnle Gwap,” she mimicked as she patted his armor. She smiled as he told her what a smart femme she was. Her optics lifted up in adoration……..

----

“How is she?” Hunter asked as she activated her optics.

Wheeljack switched out her drip bags, replenishing them with fresh bags. He smiled down at the femme, glad to hear the warmth was still in her voice. “She’s fine. Already has everyone wrapped around her little finger,” he told her.

Hunter smiled a true smile again. But the weariness was still obvious on her face as she shifted a little on the table. “I was wrong,” she admitted.

The mech sat down on the edge of the table, setting his hand on her arm and rubbing her carbide skin gently. “Perhaps we were all wrong Hunter. We mechs viewed you as a sparkless arrogant bitch that just wanted to torment us,” he said.

She smirked, “And you were right in believing so. I did want to make your lives total hell. Make all mechs lives total hell. Since my life has been total hell since I was forced here.” She snorted as she turned her optics from him, scanning the med bay.

Wheeljack tapped her arm, forcing her optics back to his. “Perhaps we are weaker in some ways than the mechs of your dimension, but in many ways we’re stronger,” he told her with an understanding smile on his face. “After seeing what you went through, what you’re fixing to go through several more times – we understand that you have every reason to be a bitter bitch about what your beliefs are forcing you to do.”

Hunter studied him critically, he truly thought in some ways he was superior to her home dimension’s mechs? Was he being serious? But then again, she was trapped her. Facing at least two more buddings, and the former slaves had proven their value. So at least they did seem to have a measure of loyalty in their circuits since they hadn’t left her to die after Mirage had beaten her. “Tell me one thing Wheeljack,” she said.

“What?”

“How long were you mechs scheming?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

Wheeljack studied her. “Promise you won’t hold it against us?” he asked.

She studied him; her curiosity even more peaked by his request for a promise. But the olive branch seemed to have been laid down between them. So she nodded.

“Ever since Grapple and I got cleaned up,” he admitted.

“So you were not nearly as broken as I first thought,” she stated flatly.

He smiled warmly as he shook his head. “Give an Autobot just the briefest glimmer of hope and his spirit will come flying back into his spark,” he told her.

“Hmmmm,” she mused as she shifted her optics away from him again. She glanced up at the drip lines going into her, watching in fascination as the life-sustaining fluids slowly replenished her drained chassis.

“By the way Hunter,” Wheeljack said as he stood up and checked the readouts.

“What?”

He met her optics then, “You’ve still got three more to go.”

She slowly sat up, careful lest she disconnect those life-sustaining drip lines. “How do YOU know?” she said, her normal arrogance slightly coloring her tone.

Wheeljack grinned at her. “Because we can see the sparklings within you when we bond, that’s how. And you were carrying four,” he informed her with a shrug.

She groaned and sank back down on the exam table. “I’d rather fight a thousand mechs…” she grumbled in despair. But then she felt fingers surround hers. Looking up, she met her medic’s gaze.

“And we will stand by you throughout it all,” he promised. Unlatching his face mask, he leaned down and gave her a tender kiss. “You’ve given us so much already, thank you,” he softly said.

“You say this, even though I tortured you? Enjoyed your pain?” she said incredulously.

He nodded as he petted her helm. “Even though you’re a bitch, you’re an honorable bitch,” he said with a wink.

She glared at him just a little. Not sure if she should take it as a joke or not. But in her current predicament, she figured that she’d better take it as a joke. Reaching up, she rubbed at a scratch on his paint job. “And you know I like my mechs in perfect condition, you slagger,” she said with a smirk.

He chuckled at her as he stood up and relatched his mask. “Worry about that after you’re finished with your current job Hunter. Perhaps then you’d be nice enough to buff US into the gleaming condition you want us in?” he smirked as he wandered over to get his supplies ready for the next delivery.

-----

“There are two of them coming,” Wheeljack shouted over her screams. Checking the straps holding the writhing femme down, he dared to reach over her and touch the forming protoforms as the blue spheres disappeared into them.

Mirage nodded across her. His optics watching the sparklings’ formation in wonder.. “So I grab one, and you grab the other?” he asked the mech - cringing a bit as the femme’s energon-curdling screams escalated. It hurt him to see how much pain she was in. Granted, in some ways it was earned payback – but still…

Wheeljack exchanged the drip bags for full ones. Then he nodded to Mirage. “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed.

The sparklings had formed their heads and their upper bodies. They reached for the nearest movement, their cries blending in with Hunter’s. Each mech surrounded one with his arms, supporting the sparkling as it formed its legs. The sparklings climbing onto them as complete separation from their mother occurred.

Holding the trembling sparkling tightly against him, Wheeljack leaned down and checked on Hunter. Her weary optics met his as she finally quit screaming. The pain now gone as the sparklings were now fully separated. Moving his arms, the mech let her scan the new sparkling with her optics. For she was the only one who seemed to be able to tell their sex.. And she gave them their names as well.

The sparkling clawed into his armor as he moved his arms. Gripping him with all its might as it felt insecure… Wheeljack coo-ed to it, telling the little one that it was safe…

“Mech,” Hunter whispered hoarsely, “Tiger”.

Wheeljack grinned at the youngster as he moved back so that Mirage could show her the other twin. Petting the little mech, he was pleased to feel it vibrate against him. His audios picking up a strange rumbling sound. “Well, hi little Tiger,” he grinned. He wondered if this was his son.

Mirage kneeled down and showed the exhausted femme the other twin. This one was trying to climb over him, so several times he had to peal its little hands off his back and bring it back to his chest. “Stay still little one,” he said softly.

Her optics scanned the small chassis. “Mech,” she whispered, “Cheetah.”

The black and white mech locked his optics with hers. He knew that Grapple and Wheeljack had bonded with her within astrominutes of each other. Which meant these twins could possibly belong to either mech. Perhaps she knew who’s they were? “Who’s their sire?” he softly asked her.

She studied the wiggling little mech in his arm, and then shifted her optics to Wheeljack, then back again. “Grapple’s” she announced in her hoarse voice. She smiled at the little mech as she drifted off in defrag.

Mirage stood up and smiled at Wheeljack. “-Hey Grapple, you’ve got twin mechs-’ he radioed to their mate on the bridge.

Hearing the message, Grapple yipped in happiness, waking the little femme curled against him. She trembled in anxiety as she clung to him, not knowing why he’d made that loud noise. Standing up, the architect patted his little charge comfortingly as he set the autopilot on. “It’s ok Razor. You’ve just had two brothers born,” he told her as he strolled off the bridge.

She looked up at him. “Brudders?” she asked in confusion.

He chuckled as he strolled down the corridor towards the med bay. They’d decided that Hunter’s screams would terrify the sparkling, so he had taken her as his charge. She was a cute little thing, so eager for attention. Grapple hoped his sons would be the same way. “Brothers are like me Razor, but they’re sparklings like you,” he explained.

She mulled it over as she clung to him. “medds like Unnle Gwap? Bud liddle medds likthe me?” she asked.

He smiled as he patted her. “You sure are a smart little femme. Yes they are mechs like me but little like you,” he agreed.

She preened in the praise he heaped on her, her blue optics beaming in pride.

Grapple strolled into the med bay, his optics bright with excitement. Mirage held out little Cheetah in exchange for Razor. Holding his son for the first time, Grapple was amazed at how wiggly the little mech was. “Boy, you sure are an active little mech,” he coo-ed as he started to stroke the sparkling’s back as it climbed up his chest plating.

Razor reached out to Grapple, her optics pleading for him to come back to her. “Brudder, brudder!” she cried.

The two mechs grinned as the little mech turned at the sparkling voice. He eyed his sister curiously and then reached out towards her.

“Perhaps we should set the two on Hunter?” Mirage offered with a grin.

The little mech was wiggling so much that Grapple doubted he could keep a hold of him much longer. So he nodded. Peeling the little one off of him, he set him down on the sleeping femme’s abdominal armor. Mirage walked over and let Razor clamber off of him. As they watched in amusement, Wheeljack handed Grapple his other son.

“Tiger’s a whole lot calmer than Cheetah,” he chuckled as the little mech carefully climbed from him to his father.

Grapple stroked the little mech’s back, feeling strange vibrations coming from the sparkling. “What’s he doing?” he asked.

Wheeljack shrugged as he watched the two half siblings clambering over Hunter as they played. “I think it’s what the organics would call ‘purring’,” he said.

Smiling down at the contented looking sparkling gripping his chest armor, Grapple felt a strange sensation flow through his nets. These two little mechs were half-him. Truly half-him! His optics beamed with the same pride that he’d seen in Mirage’s optics just two day cycles before.

Razor scuttled after Cheetah, her hands gripping the seams of her mudder’s cockpit as she went. Clumsily, she tackled him, rolling along the big femme’s legs. Her brudder giggled as she wrapped her arms around him. ‘brudder!” she said happily, “brudder!”

He looked at her strangely. “B--- br…” he stammered, unsure of how to say those sounds.

“Brudder, brudder, brudder,” she said to him. Encouraging him just as her Unnles and Fudder had encouraged her.

“B… Brudder?” he said haltingly.

She grinned and shook her head. “No me,” she glanced up at her Fudder with questions in her optics.

Mirage smiled, “You are his sister Razor.”

She looked back at Cheetah, “Me hither, you brudder,” she explained in a matter-of-fact tone. And so the little language lessons began…

------

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” Wheeljack asked her as he scanned the readouts with critical optics.

The femme shrugged as she lay there in exhaustion. Even after almost two full day cycles of rest and 10 bags of fresh energon and hydrocarbons dripping constantly into her, she hadn’t regained much of her strength since budding the twins. “Don’t have much choice in the matter Wheeljack, it’s coming regardless of my condition,” she answered with a heavy voice. Strangely, she was beginning to find the pathetic emotional wishwashiness of these Autobots – comforting.

The inventor sat down next to her with a heavy thud. He didn’t like how weak she was going into this budding, but he didn’t know what he could do about it. Scanning around the med bay, his optics lit on the energon bath. “What if I put you in the bath and added the hydrocarbon to it? We’ve got almost half a day cycle before the next budding,” he offered.

Hunter studied the energon bath. She’d never used one before, since her self-repair systems were far superior to the Cybertronians’. But Wheeljack was right. They needed to try anything to build up her strength, or she might not survive this final budding. Grunting with effort, she swung her legs off the exam table. With his help, she staggered to the bath unit.

“Hold on,” he said as he opened the empty unit. Using all his strength, the heavier yet shorter ground mech, helped her get her light-built air frame into the unit. “Now just lie down and relax while I fill it,” he ordered.

“Like I have a choice,” Hunter griped. She truly despised being this helpless. Being this dependant on others… But as the bath filled and the mech added hydrocarbons to it, she found herself sinking into the warmth of it. Her optics drifted to Wheeljack as he busied himself with getting the supplies ready for the final round of agony she would have to endure. Yes, there was indeed a good reason that Guardians had a greater tendency to ally themselves with these emotional Autobots. They weren’t as strong or as fierce as Decepticons – but they did make sure to keep their Guardians alive…
-----

“Come on Hunter, last one – you can make it!” Wheeljack said, even though he knew that the femme strapped down on the table couldn’t hear his words of encouragement.

Grapple winced as the femme let out another audio piercing scream. “You know, I think it’ll be a long time before I thrust my spark back into her. This whole budding thing is horrifying,” he said to Wheeljack.

“Ya, even with a tough-as-nails bitch like Hunter – its hard as hell to watch,” Wheeljack agreed. His optics tracked the progress of the sparkling as it separated from the mother spark and drifted towards the forming protoform.

“Wonder what kinds’ve hell my mechs are putting Mirage through right now?” Grapple said in an effort to lighten the mood a bit. He set his hands along the writhing femme’s leg, watching as the protoform slowly grew and began to develop humanoid shape.

Wheeljack chuckled as he met Grapple’s optics. “That Cheetah of yours, sure is a hyper little mech. Reminds me a bit of ‘ol Blurr,” he snickered. Reaching forward, he wrapped his arms around the little protoform as it waved its small arms. It seemed smaller than the other three, he thought with a worried expression. Shaking his fears off, he just hoped that it was healthy..

It clambered onto him at complete separation. Chattering incessantly, almost angrily… “Well, he’s got a good vocalizer,” he said happily as he petted the irate little sparkling.

Hunter was gasping weakly for air as she raised her optics. Her bleeder vents opening fully, the air rushing in. The little mech turned in Wheeljack’s arms, still berating her in his nonsensical sparkling language. “Attitude,” she whispered between gasps. “Mech,” she paused for a little bit to catch her breath. Her optics studying the little character’s every motion. “Rat,” she named him. She smiled as she shut down.

“Great, she names my sparkling after a rodent,” Wheeljack snickered. But he was still proud of the little mech that chattered in his arms.

“Well, as small as he is, he’s going to need that attitude - being raised with his bigger siblings,” Grapple chuckled.

“Well take him up to the nursery then. I’m sure Mirage is ready for a break,” Wheeljack said with a smile. With a final pat on the little silvery head, he handed the chattering little mech over to his bond mate. He watched them leave with pride in his optics. He had a strong little son, and because of his quick thinking, their mother would survive…..

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Finding the Good Within