Lost and Found Part 4

The first challenge Prime faced as a new parent was a completely unexpected one... one that he found a novel solution to, much to the surprise and consternation of his officers.

"Daddy!"

Prime halted in his tracks and turned around.  "Metronix?"

"Daddy, wait up!"  Metronix waved frantically as he rushed to catch up, pumping his legs as fast as he could.  "Don't leave me!"

"I'm not going to leave you behind," Prime assured him, crouching and holding his hands out for the sparkling.  "Trust me."

Metronix grabbed onto his hands, holding them tightly and looking up into the Autobot commander's face.  "Promise?"

Just as it had back in the medbay that first day, that expression of utter trust and confidence tugged at Prime's spark.  "Promise, little one," he replied, a smile tugging at his lip plates behind the mask.  

"Okay."  Whether because he sensed Prime's smile or simply out of relief that his newfound father wasn't going to abandon him, Metronix smiled back.  Then he dashed on ahead, giggling, and Prime had to jog to play catch-up with the little one.

Metronix's first day aboard the Ark had been going relatively smoothly thus far, but only because Prime had gone out of his way to minimize contact with other Autobots as he went about the morning's business.  Metronix had made it abundantly clear that wherever Prime went, he went, no questions asked.  That wasn't all bad -- if Prime was able to keep a firsthand optic on the sparkling he could keep him out of mischief and ensure that he stayed safe.  But it also meant that wherever Prime went, he and his tagalong attracted surprised and disdainful looks, even expressions and words of outright hostility directed at the sparkling.  Prime had been forced to take Metronix and their morning energon back to his quarters so they could refuel in peace.  And as he went about his rounds he took side corridors and lengthly detours, ensuring they would cross paths with as few mechs as possible.

There's got to be a better way to handle this, he thought as he continued down the corridor toward the conference room.  The Autobots would have to get used to Metronix's presence sooner or later -- like it or not, he was going to be a permanent addition to the base.  But at the same time, he didn't want to subject Metronix to constant harassment either.

"Daddy, too fast!  Wait up!"

Prime halted again, waiting for the sparkling to catch up.  Perhaps he needed to deal with this problem first -- the smaller but more immediate issue of not constantly outdistancing Metronix as they walked.  The poor thing had to take three steps for every one of Prime's strides, and if he had to run everywhere to keep up with his adoptive father he would soon tire himself out.  But Prime couldn't exactly carry him everywhere either -- he needed his hands free.  There had to be a solution...

Then the answer hit him, and he had to chuckle at the utter simplicity of it.  Sure, it was a little strange, but it worked well enough for human parents from what he had seen.  Why wouldn't it be fitting in this case?

Scooping Metronix up in his arms, he changed his course, setting off for the labs.  He had a few minutes before the officer's meeting; perhaps that would be enough time for Perceptor or Wheeljack to rig up what he had in mind.

***

When Optimus Prime finally entered the conference room, every optic and visor was on him... or rather, on the sparkling peeking over his shoulder, hanging from Prime's shoulders by a harness strapped to the Autobot leader's back.

"Sorry I'm late," Prime told the gathered officers, taking his seat.  "I had to make a detour."  He hoped that if he didn't acknowledge their stares, they'd choose to drop the subject of his new passenger.

"What in blue blazes is that?" Red Alert demanded, mouth ajar in shock as he stared at Metronix.  The sparkling ducked behind Prime's shoulder, trying to hide from the security officer's gaze.

"A variation on a human infant carrier, from the look of it," Ratchet replied calmly.  "It's not uncommon for human parents to carry their young on their backs-"

"Not that!" Red Alert interrupted.  "I'm talking about Megatron!  What's he doing sitting in on an officer's meeting?"

No such luck, Prime supposed, and he gave a weary sigh before answering.  "His name is Metronix, and he is under my care for the time being.  I didn't feel comfortable leaving him by himself, and this seemed to be the best way for him to accompany me without slowing me down."

"Slaggin' Pit, Prime," Ironhide grumbled, giving the sparkling a caustic glower.  "Yer takin' this WAY too far!"

"I won't have this!" Red Alert cut in.  "No one aside from officers is allowed in here -- and especially not Mega..."  He caught himself at the last second.  "Especially not Metronix.  This is a dangerous security breach..."

"Everyone shut up already!" Ratchet shouted, drowning out Ironhide and Red Alert's protests.  "Prime's word on this is the final one.  If he says the sparkling stays, he stays.  And I can't see how having a sparkling in attendance would be any harm."  Red Alert opened his mouth to protest, but a glare from the medic shut him up in a hurry.  "Now can we get back to business?  We came here to discuss the Decepticons, not fight each other."

Ironhide looked as if he dearly wanted to say something else, but he only folded his arms and glowered at Prime, looking for all the world like a sulking child.  Prime made a mental note to talk to Ironhide in private sometime today, then turned his attention to Prowl.  The tactician didn't look much happier with Metronix's presence, but he at least elected not to comment on it.

"According to Elita-1 and Ultra Magnus' reports, word of Megatron's disappearance has reached the Decepticons on Cybertron," Prowl informed them, looking down at the datapad in his hands.  "Thus far Shockwave has assumed command of the planet in his stead, with Razorclaw and his Predacons maintaining order for him.  There has been no word regarding the state of the Decepticon forces on Earth, but it's safe to assume that either Starscream or Soundwave have taken command."

"An' with any luck one of 'em's taken the other out fightin' over the leadership," Jazz chuckled.

"Don't count on it," Prime told him.  "Both of those mechs are tough, sly, and highly intelligent -- I doubt a confrontation between them would end as simply as that."

"A mech can hope," Jazz replied.  Then his wry grin softened into a genuine smile, and he waved at Metronix, who had regained enough courage to peek out from behind Prime's shoulder again.  Metronix giggled and waved back.

"What's the reaction toward Megatron's disappearance?" Prime asked.  

"From the Autobots?" Prowl replied.  "Quite frankly, relief.  The general concensus from them is that, though they know the war is far from over, it's still a huge step in the right direction.  Having one of the most powerful and dangerous Decepticons out of the picture has heightened our troops' morale everywhere."

Prime wondered if Prowl was emphasizing the "powerful and dangerous" aspect on purpose, just to drive home to his commander how much of a bad idea he thought it was to keep Metronix around.  That train of thought came to an abrupt halt when a tiny hand suddenly seized his helm antenna and yanked.  He yelped in surprise as his head was pulled sideways, startled at the strength in the sparkling's grip.

"Metronix!" he scolded, reaching up to detach the little hand from his helm.  "Metronix, don't do that.  It hurts."

"What's it do?" Metronix asked, reluctant to let go of the antenna.

Jazz cracked up laughing at the sight, earning a disgusted look from Prowl.  Ratchet, too, snickered a bit, though he made more of an effort to keep himself composed.  Ironhide went tense, one hand raised as if to snatch Metronix away or go for a weapon, as if he were interpreting Metronix's move as an attack.  Red Alert... his reaction was the most vocal.

"See?" he announced, shooting to his feet.  "What did I tell you?  His original programming's returning!  He's trying to snap Prime's neck struts!"

"Aw, Red, he's just curious," Jazz argued, still chuckling.  "Any sparklin' is gonna be grabby like that.  He just wants t' know what this or that does or how well it's attached."

"We can't be sure if that's what's truly going through his CPU, can we?" Red Alert countered.  "Oh, it looks cute now and we'll dismiss it as harmless, but before we know it he'll be going for his fuel lines next..."

"That'll be enough out of you, Red Alert," Prime ordered, finally prying Metronix's hand off his helm.  "Everyone settle down and let Prowl finish his report.  Ironhide, at ease.  Metronix, we don't grab other mech's helmets without asking.  Understand?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, tucking his head against Prime's shoulder.

That move melted away any lingering irritation Prime felt, and he gently patted his helm comfortingly before turning to face Prowl again.  "Continue."

Prowl eyed Prime and Metronix a moment longer, as if making certain things were truly settled, then returned his gaze to the datapad.  "There has been no further activity from Decepticon headquarters since yesterday's battle.  This is unusual -- we were anticipating a second attack once a new leader had been chosen.  It's typical for a new Decepticon leader to launch an attack as soon as possible after taking command in order to solidify his position."

"Why do you think they've remained quiet?" asked Prime.

"No good reason, that's fer sure," Ironhide grumbled.  "Maybe they're bidin' their time, hopin' t' catch us off our guard."

"Possible," Prowl replied.  "Another possibility is that no leader has been chosen yet, or whoever has assumed command in Megatron's stead is having to fight to maintain his position.  That would be the far more preferable scenario -- having the Decepticons fighting amongst themselves means they're in no position to fight us."

"And in no position to keep us from retaking Cybertron," Ratchet realized, and a rare smile crossed his faceplate.  "An end to the war is in sight at last."

"Don't count the war as won yet," Prime warned.  "We have a long way to go before we're ready to return to Cybertron."

"Still, there's a light at the end of the tunnel," Jazz pointed out.  "That's more'n we've had in vorns..."

If Jazz had anything else to say, Prime didn't catch it.  Metronix had started squirming in his harness, and by now his movements had reached the point where Prime couldn't ignore them anymore.  Muttering a quick "excuse me" to his officers, he turned to give Metronix a warning look.  The sparkling only looked back with wide, innocent-looking optics.

"You need to hold still, Metronix," Prime told him.

"Bored," he insisted, pouting.  "Want down."  He waved insistently at the floor to emphasize his point.

Despite himself, Prime felt a smile tug at his lip plates.  Metronix was finally coming out of his shell, and felt safe and secure enough to request things for himself.  That could only be a good sign as far as he was concerned.  Reaching back, he started to unbuckle one of the straps.

"What do you think you're doing?!"  Predictably, that was Red Alert, gawking at Prime as if he'd just pulled a laser cannon and aimed it at the gathered officers.

"I'm letting him down," Prime replied.  "This way he'll be less of a distraction..."

"Won't letting him run free in the conference room be more of a distraction?" Prowl pointed out, arching an optic ridge.

"He'll be perfectly fine," Prime assured them, and he undid the harness and let Metronix slide down to the floor.  The sparkling promptly scurried under the table, evidently finding something to amuse himself in his new hiding place.

"The question is will WE be perfectly fine?" Red Alert demanded, glaring at Prime.  "You're letting our worst enemy run free in here, where he can overhear sensitive information or even try to kill us..."

"For the last time, Red Alert, he is NOT Megatron," Prime told the security officer, letting his frustration show through in every word.  "He is a sparkling, and he's no more danger to us than any other sparkling.  If he proves to be dangerous or any sort of security risk, I will remove him.  Until then, I don't want to hear another word on the subject."

Red Alert had opened his mouth to protest, but jumped abruptly as Ratchet kicked him under the table.  He not only remained quiet for the rest of the meeting, he glowered in Prime's direction the entire time.  Great, two officers slagged off at him over the sparkling, and the day wasn't even half over yet.

"Is it permissable to continue, Prime?" Prowl asked in an exasperated tone.

"Go on, Prowl," Prime told him.  Best to get this over with before he had every Autobot officer ticked off at him.

"The situation among the Decepticons isn't as unstable as we would like," Prowl went on.  "But there is some amount of unrest, which we can use to our advantage.  The question is, what do we do now?  The most logical course of action would be to press our advantage and attack now, while the Decepticons are disorganized, but it's unclear whether that would be the wisest choice."

"At th' least, we could boot th' 'Cons off this planet," Jazz suggested.  "They ain't th' most organized bunch, an' Megatron was th' only thing keepin' 'em together for th' most part.  One good push an' we can send 'em back t' Cybertron with their tailfins smokin'."

Ratchet jumped in his seat at that moment.  All optics turned to the medical officer, but he waved away their concerned looks and settled back in his seat, though not without a suspicious glance beneath the table.

"I would like more information before we proceed," Prime replied.  "I want to know who, if anyone, is in charge now that Megatron's gone, and whether the Decepticons have accepted them as leader or not.  And I want to know what this new leader has planned for the forseeable future.  Whoever it is, it's safe to assume their fighting and leadership styles will be vastly different from Megatron's, and we have to be prepared for that-"

Ironhide swore loudly and jerked his feet up, glaring under the table.  There was a scuffle as Metronix scooted away from the red warrior's feet as fast as he could, but a muffled giggle told the gathered officers that the sparkling wasn't the least bit sorry at having gotten a reaction out of him.

"Just ignore him," Prime told Ironhide.  "If you don't react, he'll stop doing it."

"Yeah right," huffed Ironhide, but he lowered his feet anyhow.

"I doubt we'll get all the information you're wanting, Prime, but we will do what we can," said Prowl, electing to continue as if nothing had happened.  "I'll have Blaster send his cassettes out to listen in wherever they can, and tell Mirage and Bumblebee to -- ack!"  He jerked back in his chair, optics suddenly bright with surprise.  "Let go of my foot!"

"Primus fraggit, Prime, if ya don' keep that kid under control, I'll do something y'all'll regret!" Ironhide snapped.

"He's just a kid, 'Hide!" Jazz protested.  "He ain't doin' no harm, he just wants t' play-"  Whatever else he had to say cut off with a yip of surprise, but rather than scoot away from the table or glare under it, he just laughed.  "Poked me in th' wheel wells.  Tickles."

Red Alert opened his mouth as if to deliver his two credits' worth, but instead shrieked and shot to his feet as he, too, got grabbed under the table.  "That's IT!  I don't have to put up with this!  I won't be disrespected by my fellow officers or humiliated by a sparkling!"  And he stormed out of the room.

Prowl watched Red Alert go, then turned to the rest of the officers.  "Meeting dismissed.  Prime, stay behind.  I want a word."

Prime sighed as the other officers filed out... then gave a start of his own as an inquisitive hand grabbed one of the tires on his right leg.  His first instinct was to jerk his leg away, but he forced himself to hold still.  He didn't want to spook Metronix, and to be honest, he didn't see any harm in his curiousity.  

As soon as the others had left the room, Prowl addressed his commander, his voice stern.  "Optimus, I know what you're trying to do, and while I don't agree with it, I am willing to let you attempt it so long as it doesn't have a detrimental effect on the Autobots.  But there are limits to how far I'm willing to go, and today you've pushed them too far.  This can't happen again."

Prime's first impulse was to argue with Prowl, but instead he offlined his optics and focused on taking a few deep intakes.  It was tempting to pull rank again and simply tell his second-in-command that if he didn't like the situation, tough, he had to live with it.  But a good commander listened to what his officers had to say, and he had to admit that Prowl did have a point.  Caretaker or not, he still had a responsibility to the Autobots, and he had to find a way to balance his duties so that neither Metronix nor the Autobots suffered.

"My apologies, Prowl," Prime replied evenly, onlining his optics again.  "This won't happen again.  From now on, I'll find someone to watch over Metronix instead of bringing him to meetings."  He felt Metronix grab onto his leg and latch on like a space barnacle, but he tried not to react.  "In return, however, I would like you to try to reason with Red Alert.  There has been no evidence to validate his concerns, and the more he insists Metronix is a danger, the more Autobots will take his side."

Prowl nodded.  "Apology accepted, sir.  That sounds like a fair compromise."  He collected his datapads and rose to leave.  "One other thing.  If you're serious about raising him as an Autobot and being his caretaker, I suggest you see about getting him some toys.  He may not be willfully destructive, but any bored sparkling is a potentially dangerous one."  And with a hint of a smile he left the room.

Metronix's grip on his leg tightened.  "Am I in trouble, Daddy?"

"No, little one."  He reached down to pry Metronix off his leg.  "You're not in trouble."  He chuckled softly as he lifted him and held him in his arms.  "I think Daddy's the one in trouble at the moment.  But it's nothing bad."

That seemed to comfort Metronix, and he hugged Prime tightly around the neck.  "Wanna ride on your back again!"

"All right, little one.  Just hold still and let me get the harness on you."

As he finished buckling Metronix in and fastened him to his back again, he pondered on Prowl's suggestion.  Just how was he going to get sparkling toys?  Supply shipments from Cybertron were few and far between, and even if he made a request for some immediately, it could be months before they arrived at the Ark.  He would have to improvise something and make use of his resources on Earth.  Maybe Sparkplug could help -- the human was a father, after all, and had experience with trying to keep a child entertained.

He left the conference room and headed for the repair bay, where Sparkplug was bound to be at this hour.  He had a bit of free time before his next set of duties, and he might as well make good use of it.

***

"So this is the cause of all the fuss," Sparkplug noted, leaving his workbench to approach Prime as he lowered Metronix to the floor.  "Wow... who'd have thought the old Slagmaker would make such a cute kid?"

"His name is Metronix," Prime told him.  "And he'll be living with us from now on."  He gently put a hand on the sparkling's back, trying to urge him toward Sparkplug.  "Go on.  He won't hurt you."

Metronix squeaked and squirmed away from his hand, ducking behind Prime's leg.

"Aw, he's shy," Sparkplug laughed.  "Hey little guy... I'm not gonna hurt you."  He held a hand out coaxingly.  "I know, I look kind of funny to you, but I don't bite, I promise."

Metronix peeked out from behind Prime's leg, but he made no move to approach the human.  Prime had to chuckle softly himself.  Even as a sparkling Metronix stood quite a bit taller than Sparkplug, and yet he was more nervous around him than around mechs much bigger than him.  Though even the Autobots had been a little nervous around humans the first time they'd met -- they were so small and delicate in comparison, after all.

Sparkplug seemed to accept that Metronix wasn't going to come any closer, and he lowered his hand.  "So how can I help you, Prime?  Or is this just a chance to get acquainted with the little guy?"

"Both, actually," Prime replied.  "I'll have to introduce him to Spike, Carly, and Chip at a later date.  But I actually had a favor to ask of you."

"Shoot."

"I need... toys," he confessed, feeling a little silly as he spoke.  "If Metronix is going to be with us for the long term, he's going to need something to occupy his time.  It will be awhile before we can get proper sparkling toys from Cybertron, so I had hoped you might be able to help me see what's available here on Earth."

"Hmmm."  Sparkplug cupped his chin in his hand as he thought.  "Well, a lot of that depends on what he likes.  I'd recommend getting several different types to start with, then once you find out what he prefers to play with, go from there.  Whatever you get is going to have to be bigger than normal, of course."  He pulled a grease-stained notebook out of his back pocket and began to take some notes.  "They make balls and stuffed animals in large sizes, so that's a start.  And those miniature go-cart type of cars could work as toys for him, too, though I'd pull out or modify the motors first."

"Perhaps a gaming system of some sort as well?" Prime suggested.  "Our techs could adapt it to fit his hands.  The motion-sensor one would probably be best."

"The Wii?  Not a bad choice, that one seems to be the most kid-friendly... oh, hi."  Sparkplug looked up from his notebook to find himself eye-to-optic with Metronix, who had emerged from behind Prime and approached him in the middle of the conversation.

"Be gentle with him, Metronix," Prime warned, keeping his voice calm and kindly.  "Humans are fragile."

Metronix nodded but kept staring intently at Sparkplug.  As the human watched warily, he reached out and nudged the hard hat off his head, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter.  Then he patted the top of Sparkplug's head, as cautious as a human child touching a live animal for the first time.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Oh... that's hair, little guy," Sparkplug replied, unable to suppress an amused smile.  "Or what's left of mine, anyhow."

"What's it for?"

"It... well, come to think of it, I'm not sure."  He chuckled softly.  "At least, I'm not sure what it's for on humans.  Maybe to keep our heads warm."

"Oh."  Metronix seemed to ponder that a moment.  Then he reached up and tugged at his own helm.

"What are you doing?" Prime asked, bending down to pull his hands away from his helm.  "Don't hurt yourself."

"Wanna see if I got hair," Metronix insisted, trying to squirm out of Prime's grip.

Sparkplug's chuckle became a full-blown laugh at that.  "Oh dear... I forgot just how cute kids are.  This little guy's gonna be good for the base, I think."

"I'm hoping so," Prime replied, scooping Metronix up in his arms.  "I'm still hoping the others can accept him for who he is, and not for who he was."

Sparkplug nodded, a bit more serious now.  "I'd give it some time.  They're not going to forget overnight who he used to be.  But they'll come around, I'm sure.  Just a suggestion, but I'd keep the talk about his former name down while he's around.  Because if he keeps hearing that name, sooner or later he's going to be asking questions, and he won't like the answer."

"Good point," Prime acknowledged.  "Thank you, Sparkplug.  You've been very helpful."

"Not a problem.  And let me know before you go shopping.  Maybe I can help you find what you're looking for."

"That would be most appreciated."  He caught Metronix's hand as he was reaching for Prime's helm and gently pushed it down.  "I'll talk to you this evening."

"Take care, Prime."

As the Autobot commander and human mechanic parted ways, neither of them thought to look up... but if they had, they would have caught slanted red optics glinting from the ventilation grate in the ceiling.  And if they had paused to listen, they might have heard the soft pad of feet as Ravage slunk away, practically vibrating with urgency as he went to deliver the news to his master.