#bonding!

Primus help him, but he was cold. And wet. They’d gotten caught in the storm before they’d made it back to their hideaway, so he and his brother were soaked. Jetfire didn’t seem troubled, but then again his twin always had been the one who ran hotter between the two of them. Another clap of thunder, louder this time, made Jetstorm yelp and jump. He clung tighter to Jetfire, making his brother let out a displeased chuff as he woke up. Or well, woke up partway, because the fiery sparkling was clearly still half asleep.

With clumsy, heavy movements, Jetfire pushed and bullied Jetstorm around until their positions were reversed. Now, Jetstorm was pressed into the corner, and Jetfire was draped over and wrapped around him. His brother went still once he’d gotten comfortable, whuffing in satisfaction before dropping back to sleep. Jetstorm, for his part, was slightly less comfortable. He squirmed and twisted until he’d gotten his arms un-pinned, then wrapped himself around Jetfire in turn. He could already feel his brother’s heat soaking into him, and while it didn’t take away all the cold it was enough to slow the shivers.

Jetstorm sighed, relaxing under the weight of his twin. He let his optics slide shut, trying to ignore the ache in his belly that made itself known now that the cold was less of a worry. Sometimes, he wished they didn’t have to stay on the streets. But what choice was there? They didn’t know who their creators were. They’d been abandoned at an orphanage as infants. They’d run away when they’d overheard the matrons talking about two sets of parents who wanted to adopt them. But only one of them, which meant they’d have been separated. So they’d run, and they’d never looked back. Now, Jetstorm knew they couldn’t let themselves be caught and brought back. If they were, they’d doubtless be separated. The chances of an adult, or even a couple, taking in two sparklings fresh off the streets was practically abysmal, which meant if they were caught they’d lose each other.

They’d rather having nothing at all and still be able to have each other, then gain everything they were missing but lose each other in the process.

Jetstorm flinched as thunder crashed again, turning his head and burrowing his face into the side of his brother’s neck. Jetfire’s embrace around him tightened, sensing his brother’s distress even in his sleep. Jetstorm, for his part, just let out a wavering, squeaky sigh, before forcing his body to relax. He was tired, and he knew that if they wanted to go forward with their plan for tomorrow he needed to be rested.

He squirmed, shifting carefully until he’d gotten himself and his brother arranged in the way he wanted. He ended up still pressed into the corner, but now slumped further against the ground. Jetfire was propped a little higher on top of him, and it ended up that they were wrapped around each other with Jetstorm pressing his face to his brother’s chest. He turned his head slightly, then went still and limp with his audial shoved against Jetfire’s sternum. The storm raged overhead, but Jetstorm focused on the steady thrum of Jetfire’s sparkbeat, and he let his brother’s warmth and the steady pulse of his life lull him to sleep.

Above the dreaming city, the sky still wept.

——————————

In contrast to the previous day’s pleasant warmth, this one had dawned with a muggy, uncomfortable heat. Unlike yesterday, there was no gentle breeze to keep things cool, instead the sun beat down with an intensity that made Jetfire want to fight it. The small sparkling glared up at the sky, optics squinting angrily at the giant flaming mass that warmed the planet. At his side, Jetstorm sniggered. Jetfire turned his glare to his brother, arms crossing as he huffed. Jetstorm only grinned, his own optics glittering with barely restrained amusement before scampering on ahead.

Jetfire forced down his irritation, hurrying after his twin. His ire with the sun could wait. They hadn’t eaten in a couple days, and they needed food. Which meant it was time for one of their little “heists”. In other words, he and Jetstorm were going to steal from the outside displays of one of the bakeries or fruit shops in the nicer part of town. They’d done it before, so it wasn’t anything new, but Jetfire knew he needed to put all his focus and effort into it if they wanted to get away without getting caught.

Seeing his brother darting through the alleys ahead of him, Jetfire sped up in order to catch up to him. Jetstorm shot him a grin, and he darted in and nudged his brother roughly before racing on ahead. The blue sparkling stumbled into a pile of boxes at the shove, and Jetfire cackled at the outraged squawking. Soon enough they were scampering alongside each other again, and they came to a stop in the alley by the bakery they’d scouted out the day before. Jetfire nodded at his brother, then ran out to where the baker was putting out his fresh stock.

He deliberately ran into the older mech, letting himself fall back with a grunt. When the bot turned to him, Jetfire feigned surprise and regret. “Oh! I am being sorry, Mr. Baker!” he gasped, scrabbling to his pedes. “I did not be seeing you! I was not meaning to run into you!”

The baker frowned heavily, hands on his hips. “Ugh. Just get on out of here, you little street rat!” he barked. “No one will shop here if they think the likes of you hang around!”

Behind the mech, Jetstorm was creeping up to the stands where the larger loaves were on display. Quick as a flash, he snapped one up and started scuttling away.

Jetfire grinned. “If you be saying so! Goodbye!” he chirped, and then darted after his brother.

Out of the corner of his optic, he saw the baker turn to stare after him. He must have seen the loaf clutched in Jetstorm’s hands, because he roared in anger and then lunged towards them. Horror flashed between the two brothers, and as the mech’s heavy hand locked around Jetstorm’s collar he shoved the loaf at Jetfire.

“Run, brother!” he cried.

Jetfire slowed for only a sparkbeat, and then he was racing ahead. They had to have this loaf. They had to. They were starving. And Jetstorm was slippery. He knew how to get away when an adult had a hold of him. He’d be fine. Jetfire darted into an alley, and ran up a rickety fire escape to avoid getting caught. All the while, he heard the mech cursing and his brother spitting insults. When he got to the roof of the building he’d climbed and peered over, his audials were met with a cry of pain from Jetstorm and his optics fell on a scene that would haunt him for years to come.

Jetstorm was on the ground. It was clear his initial cry had been because he’d been thrown down. But now the baker was snarling, one hand pulling at his brother’s arm and Jetfire could see even from here that the angle just wasn’t right. Jetstorm let out another shriek as the mech kicked him in the side, his body jerking. With the movement, Jetfire saw a gash on his forehelm that was leaking energon. It had probably come from when he’d hit the ground.

Spark singing in terror, his fingers twitched and the loaf fell from his grip to the dusty rooftop at his pedes. Before he could think too much, Jetfire leapt for one of the street lamps that came level with the top of the building. For one moment he was suspended in the air, and then his stomach hit the top bend of the streetlamp. Hard. He almost purged right there, the breath knocked right out of him as he wheezed. Already, his stomach throbbed with pain. Still, he forced himself to move, sliding down the pole of the lamp and then running straight at the mech holding down his twin.

With a furious snarl, he threw himself at the bigger bot’s face, letting go before he could be grabbed himself. While the baker was still getting his bearings, Jetfire drew back his foot, then planted it as hard as he could between the mech’s legs. He went down with a strangled groan, and Jetfire took the opportunity to grab his brother and drag him away as quickly as he could. By the time the baker recovered, both sparklings were gone.

Overhead, the sun beat down on the pilfered bread, left behind on a lonely rooftop and long forgotten.

——————————

The alarm blared on the bedside table. Jazz grunted as it jerked him out of a very pleasant dream, lifting his head from where it was mashed into his pillow to shoot the screaming clock an offended look. He’d forgotten to turn it off the night before, and now he was paying for it. It was the start of his week off. He’d gotten injured a couple days back on the job, and Magnus had told him to take some time off to recover. Also, apparently, because he didn’t use his vacation days last year and the higher ups were getting on Magnus’s aft about it.

He’d ended up agreeing, and had been looking forward to sleeping in during his impromptu vacation. Alas, it seemed it wasn’t to be. He sighed, carefully pushing himself up and slapping at the alarm to turn it off. That done, he stood and stretched carefully, before grabbing his visor from his nightstand and slipping it on. He got dressed quickly, then after a short trip to the bathroom he was out the door. He’d get breakfast as a cafe today, he decided. The sun was up, the weather was warm, if a little uncomfortably so, and it would be nice to be out.

As he passed by a bakery he knew was popular with office workers, he saw the baker outside ranting about…something to Hot Shot. Nearby, Ironhide was leaning against the wall with crossed arms. Jazz crossed over to greet his colleague, hand lifting in a wave.

“Yo, ‘Hide. What’s the deal?” he asked, head nodding towards the baker.

“Theft, apparently.” Ironhide snorted. “He called in ‘bout an hour ago. Said a couple of sparkling “street urchins” robbed him.” he said lazily, clearly quoting the baker when referring to the sparklings.

“Huh.” Jazz glanced over, head tilting. Then he shrugged and turned back to Ironhide. “Aligh’. So where’re the bitlets now, then? You pick ‘em up already?”

“Nah.” Ironhide frowned, then gestured towards a patch of pavement near the bread stands. “Hot Shot’s asking him ‘bout that, though.”

“Energon.” Jazz realized, looking at the dried pink stain on the stone. “Well, the baker ain’t bleedin’. It from one of the sparklings?”

“That’s what we think. I asked the mech about what was stolen, and turns out it was just one of his loaves. I got a bit…heated. Hot Shot had to take over to question him ‘bout the confrontation.”

Jazz frowned. “You think the baker hurt a bitlet over a single loaf?”

“That’s exactly what happened.” Hot Shot spoke up behind him.

He turned to the other officer, nodding a greeting. “You sure, mech?”

“I’m sure. It took a bit to get the truth out of him, but he said he grabbed one of them and knocked them to the ground while the other kid ran. Then the second one came back and attacked him when he saw his friend was in trouble.”

“I didn’t see any injuries on the mech.” Ironhide pointed out.

“That’s because the only injury was his pride.” Hot Shot said, tone dry. “He said that sparkling #2 kicked him in the crotch and used his distraction to drag his friend off.”

Ironhide blinked, then snickered. “Well, ain’t that somethin’.”

Hot Shot just shrugged, smirking. “Yep.” he said brightly. “Anyway, we should get back to the precinct. The baker will probably face a charge or two since he admitted to assaulting a minor, but Magnus will want those sparklings found. It’s not good for kids so young to live on the streets.”

Jazz hummed, nodding. “True enough.” he agreed. “Well my mech, I gotta jet. There’s a muffin with my name on it at Groove’s bakery, and I intend to get to it.” he said with a grin.

His friends laughed and shooed him off before heading to their patrol car. Jazz waved a goodbye, then spun on his heel and walked on. As he passed by an alley, he decided to take a shortcut through the poorer part of town. It’d bring him to the edge of the park, and then he could cut through it to the bakery. Otherwise, he’d have to go around. That decided, he ducked into the alley, taking turns here and there where he needed to.

Something pink caught his optic on the ground, and he slowed to a stop. He was in one of the more run-down sections of town, and the park he had to cut through was only a minute or two away. But there was a pink stain on the cracked pavement, and Jazz recognized it as energon. There was another dried spot of energon a few paces away, leading into the alley at his right. He was still for a moment, and then he was creeping forward into the alley, following the trail of dried energon. A few more paces in, and he heard a voice.

Immediately, he realized it was a sparkling’s voice. A crying sparkling, at that. He stepped around the dumpster he’d ducked behind, and he was met with the sight of two sparkling’s under a lean-to in the corner. One of them was clearly unconscious, lying limp on the ground. The energon was coming from him, Jazz could see his forehelm smeared with it. The other sparkling was kneeling at his side, hands gripping the unconscious bitlet’s clothing and crying, small pleas escaping him as he trembled. At the sound of pede-steps, that small helm shot up to stare at Jazz, and amber optics went wide with fear. The sparkling whimpered, draping himself halfway over his friend.

“You will not be hurting my brother!” he snapped, trying to sound tougher than he was.

Ah. So the injured sparkling was his brother, not his friend. They looked close in age, maybe a year or two apart at most.

“Wasn’t even a thought in my mind, bitlet.” Jazz spoke, keeping his voice soothing as he crouched in front of the pair.

Something tugged at the back of his processor, and he was quick to put the pieces together. The bakery. The energon stain on the pavement. Two sparklings, one who’d been assaulted. The bruise on the blue sparkling’s arm that was clearly the hand print of an adult. These were the little “thieves” from Ironhide and Hot Shot’s case. Well, it wasn’t much of a case, not really, but even so, it seemed he’d found the kids they were looking for. He didn’t say anything to the orange sparkling, though.

“You are lying!” the sparkling snapped.

“Nah, bitlet. I ain’t. But your brother looks like he needs help. I can take you to a hospital, and we can see about gettin’ you two off the streets.” he tried to soothe.

“No!” the sparkling clung tighter to his brother. “I will not be letting you! If you take us, we will be separated! Just let us being alone!”

Jazz lifted his hands, frowning. Separated? Why was that a worry?

“What do you mean separated, little one?”

“The orphanage was wanting to be giving us to different families!” he growled, trying to make himself look and sound threatening. “No one is wanting twins! We do not want to being separated!”

Ah. That explained it. They weren’t just siblings, then. They were twins. Jazz didn’t work with social services, but he did know twins didn’t often get adopted, at least not together. And if these two had experienced that personally, it meant they were runaways. Jazz could sympathize. But the injured sparkling wouldn’t last too long without medical care.

“You won’t be separated.” he said calmly. “I promise. But your brother needs help, and I don’t think either of us are in a position to give it to him.”

The sparkling froze, his gaze going from his unconscious brother to Jazz then back again, before slumping. “Where will you be taking us?”

“To a clinic I know. It ain’t no hospital, and your brother will still get the care he needs. Alright?”

The sparkling stared at him for a long moment, and then he sagged. “Yes.” he said glumly.

Jazz smiled, nodding. “Good bitlet.” he praised, standing up and dropping a hand to his pocket for his phone. He wouldn’t be able to take them both to First Aid’s clinic on his own. He knew the independent medic would be more than happy to help, but the trouble would be getting them there.

He needed to call Rodimus.

——————————

Rodimus didn’t know what he was expecting on his day off, but it certainly wasn’t a call from Jazz about sparklings, of all things. Even so, he didn’t hesitate to go to his friend’s aid. He’d been surprised to see the sparklings in question when he got to the alley Jazz had directed him to. They were both so small. It was obvious they’d been in their own, and been very hungry, for a long time. And then he saw the state of the blue sparkling. In that moment, Rodimus was glad he’s brought his car. It would make the trip to First Aid’s clinic much quicker.

He hadn’t hesitated to help Jazz get the sparklings in the car. The other mech had even taken the backseat with them while Rodimus drove. In the car, Jazz called ahead to the clinic to make sure First Aid knew they were coming. They’d been met in front of the clinic by Medix, Aid’s apprentice, and then First Aid himself was coming out and both sparklings were hurried into the examination rooms.

While they waited, Rodimus turned to his friend. “Pits, Jazz. How’d the little brat even get so hurt?”

“I dunno for sure, but I think he was attacked when he and his brother tried to steal some bread.” Jazz said, tone somber.

“Frag.” he hissed. “That much damage to a kid, over a little bit of bread?”

Jazz just shrugged.

Rodimus sighed. “What are you gonna do with them, Jazz? I’m sure once they’ve been treated, one of the local orphanages will take them in.”

“…I don’t wanna do that.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I don’t want to do that.” Jazz repeated more firmly. “You didn’t hear the bitlet when I found them, Roddy. He was terrified. He almost begged me not to hurt them or separate them.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Rodimus asked, confused.

“They’re twins, Rodimus, I know neither of us have worked with social services much, but I also know you’re well aware of what the preferred type of child to adopt is.” he said, unusually serious.

Rodimus paused. He did know. He himself had been adopted. He didn’t know who his creators were. And no one had wanted to adopted him, growing up. He was too wild, they said. Too free-spirited. Too much attitude. Just…too much entirely. And then Kup had come along, and suddenly he’d found himself swept into a home and a family. But he still remembered the orphanage, and he remembered Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They’d also been twins, and they’d had an even harder time getting adopted than him. They’d still been there, when Kup had taken him in. No one wanted two half-grown children, after all.

“Alright.” Rodimus sighed. “You have a point there, my mech.” he crossed his arms, tilting his head to give Jazz a piercing look. “But what are you going to do about this, then? It’s not like you can take them in yourself.”

Jazz froze, then. He stared at Rodimus for a moment, and then a grin slowly stretched his features. Rodimus suddenly had very peculiar feeling. Jazz wasn’t actually going to, was he?

“An’ who says I can’t?”

Oh frag, he actually was.

——————————

Adopting two sparklings off the streets was, as it turned out, much harder than just saying he wanted to raise them and leaving it at that. Thankfully, Jazz had connections. He did originally come from the upper class, after all, even if he had strayed from the life path his creators had wanted for him. It meant that, while he couldn’t get custody of the twins immediately, he was able to expedite the process. Usually he’d be loathe to use his family name like this, but he knew that the faster he could get this done, the better off the twins would be.

So, while he wasn’t their adoptive sire just yet, by the time First Aid came to tell them he was done with the twins, Jazz had managed to get himself set up to foster them until the adoption went through. He knew Rodimus thought he was being reckless, that he was making a snap decision without thinking it through. But every time he thought of those two sparklings, he remembered the first time his optics had landed on them. He remembered seeing the way the orange bitlet clung desperately to his brother, remembered hearing his soft, terrified sobs. He remembered the way the injured sparkling lay limp and unconscious under the shelter they had obviously made themselves. He remembered the desperation in the sparkling’s voice as he said they didn’t want to be separated. He remembered, and his spark ached with it. He knew what would happen if they went into the system. He knew, and when he remembered, he also knew he couldn’t let it happen.

So maybe it really was a snap decision, but he couldn’t regret it. He had plenty of money, and a safe, nice house, and he knew he could provide everything the bitlets would need to grow up strong and healthy. And Primus damn him, but a tiny part of his spark had already gotten attached. He couldn’t turn his back on them now. He’d have to let a social worker check over his house in the coming days, and Rodimus had left to pick up clothes, food, and toys after Jazz had made the last necessary call. So now all that was left was to take the kids home. Luckily, they were both asleep, and First Aid assured him they’d be fine. The orange sparkling apparently had a nasty bruise on his stomach, and he’d need to take it easy for a few days, but he wasn’t bad off. His brother, on the other hand, had a very, very mild concussion, a dislocated shoulder, and a pair of broken ribs. It had all been fixed up, thank Primus, but now the sparklings just needed to recover.

Luckily for everyone involved, Rodimus was waiting outside in the car with the things he’d picked up while shopping. It was easy for Jazz and First Aid to bring the sleeping bitlets out and carefully lay them in the backseat. Jazz happily paid his young friend for his services, and then Rodimus was taking them. It was only once he was in the car and half-way to his house that he caught sight of the sleeping sparklings in the backseat and the reality of what he’d done hit him.

“Oh frag I just started the process to adopt twins.”

Rodimus cackled from the driver’s seat.

“Don’t you dare laugh, Roddy! Primus, what do I do? I want to take ‘em in, but how do I make them comfortable?” he asked, frantic.

Rodimus sniggered, smirking over at him. “Just be you, Jazz. It’ll be an adjustment, but if you really want this, then just be yourself and be ready for challenges. Even if they’re difficult at first, they‘ll come to see you mean what you say.” he paused. “Actually, expect them to be difficult. They might not be, but there’s a good chance they will be just to test you. To see how you react to disobedience and difficult behavior. Though not all their difficult behavior will be to test you.” he warned.

Jazz chuckled. “Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah.” his smile softened. “Primus knows I made life difficult for Kup at first. I wanted to see how far I could push things, and what the consequences of pushing him to his limits would be. Better to act out early and see that soon, than to get comfortable and learn it when I make a mistake. That’s what I thought, anyway.” he said, voice gentler.

“You wanted to make him snap before you got attached.” Jazz realized.

Rodimus nodded. “Got it in one.” he smiled over at his friend. “In my mind, it was better to make him lose his patience and bare the consequences of it early on, before I was attached. That way, if he ended up hurting me, I could run before I’d gotten close enough for it to hurt.”

“You think they might try the same with me?”

“They might. They might not. Not every orphan is going to be the same. But I thought I’d warn you, just in case. So you know to expect it, and if they act out deliberately you’ll know at least one possible reason as to why.”

Jazz sighed. “Thank you, Roddy. I really appreciate all this, you know?”

“I know.” Rodimus sounded smug.

“Oh come off it, you aft.” Jazz laughed. “How much do I owe you for the shopping trip?”

“Nah.” Rodimus shook his head. “Think of it as a gift for the kids. I get to call dibs on being the fun uncle, though!”

“We ain’t related.” Jazz deadpanned.

“Fun uncle.” Rodimus shot back.

Jazz made a said of faux disgust. “Fine, have your honorary fun uncle role.” he made a dismissive sound, then grinned at his friend.

Rodimus grinned back. “So.” he said. “What’re their names, anyway?”

Jazz froze. “Uh. ‘Bout that.”

“Jazz. Tell me you got their names before you decided to adopt them.”

“Uh…no?”

“Primus save us from slag-brained idiots.” Rodimus groaned.

“Didn’t you get your arm stuck in the vending machine a week ago?”

Rodimus pulled to a stop, making sure he didn’t slam on the breaks so he wouldn’t wake up the sparklings. “Oh look, we’re here!” he said.

“Changing the subject ain’t gonna change that we had to call maintenance to get you out, Roddy.”

“Why don’t you go on ahead and get one of your spare rooms set up for the kids? I’ll start bringing the bags in, there’s too many for a single trip anyway. I should be done by the time you are and then we can get the bitlets inside.” Rodimus, predictably, continued on as if he hadn’t spoken.

Jazz laughed, but let his friend have this one. He did as he suggested, ducking into the house and grabbing the sheets from his hallway closet. Then he took them to one of the spare rooms, making the bed and opening the window to let the room air out. For now, the kids could share the one bed. He had a feeling they’d want to anyway. But he’d have the second room made by the time night rolled around in case they wanted that too.

Task done, he returned to the car, and Rodimus had indeed placed the last of the bags in the house by the time he went to pick up the kids. His arms slid around the orange sparkling, and Rodimus slipped in behind him to lift his brother. They brought the kids to the spare room, where Jazz gently tucked them in under the blanket. After saying a quiet goodbye to Rodimus, his friend left and Jazz was was again left to the quiet of his home. Only now, he had two new residents who he had no doubt would eventually fill the space with noise.

His stomach chose that moment to growl a loud protest at being empty, and Jazz was forced to remember that he hasn’t actually had breakfast that morning. He rummaged around his kitchen, coming up only with the bread ends of a pack of sandwich bread. But, he did have plenty of ingredients to make a meal. He sighed, and decided to eat the bread ends in the meantime. Not the most glamorous of meals, but he was rather hungry.

As he ate, he gathered the ingredients for a simple soup, knowing it’d be easy on the kids’ stomachs. From what First Aid had said, they’d be awake in an hour or two, and by then it’d be early evening. The mess with the sparklings had taken all day. After he finished his meager snack he gulped down a large glass of water. Then, he straightened his spine and got to work.

He’d make sure that this soup would be the best those bitties had ever tasted.

——————————

Jetfire woke to the smell of something that made his stomach groan in hunger. He lay still for a long moment, trying to remember what he had been doing before falling asleep. He remembered leaving the shelter, going to the bakery, and then…

He sat up abruptly, gasping and falling back down to curl around his stomach as it screamed in protest at his rushed movement. That was right. He’d hit his belly on the lamp post. Looking back, he was surprised he hadn’t been killed with that stunt. But that was a worry for another day. His worry for now was Jetstorm. He pushed himself up slowly, and his gaze immediately fell to his brother. Jetstorm was sprawled next to him, a small band-aid on his forehelm, his arm in a sling, and the edges of bandages poking out from under his shirt.

Jetfire heaved a sigh of relief, relaxing into the surface they were laying on. Which was….oddly soft? He looked around, worry churning in his gut. They were both in a bed. But why? And how?

That was when he remembered the mech. The white bot had found them in their alley. He’d taken them to a clinic, and Jetfire remembered that the doctor there had covered his mouth and nose with a mask, and there’d been a sweet smell. Then….nothing.

Deciding to investigate, just to make sure his brother and himself were safe, Jetfire slid out of the bed and followed his nose. It led him to what looked like a kitchen. And there, at the counter, was the white mech from the alley. He sniffed at the air again, his stomach growling when he realized the mech was cooking something on the stove. Obviously he’d been heard, because the mech was turning to face him in the next beat.

“Well good afternoon, bitlet!” The mech smiled. “How’re you feeling?”

Jetfire ignored the question. “Where are we?” he demanded roughly.

Thankfully, the mech didn’t seem offended. “My house. You said you didn’t want to go to an orphanage or a group home.”

“We are going to be leaving when my brother wakes up! You will not be having us separated!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” the mech said. He smiled, striding forward and crouching in front of Jetfire. He forced himself not to flinch away. “In fact, I’d like to take the both of you in myself.”

Jetfire froze. “What?”

“I’d like to adopt you. You and your brother both.” The mech said, voice gentle. “I can give you two a home, all the food and support you need, and you won’t be separated.”

“Why?” Jetfire was confused. And scared, but mostly confused.

“Cause the two of you deserve better than the streets, and I’d like to give you better, if you’ll let me.” the mech said.

Jetfire didn’t know what to think.

“You still gonna leave then, little mech?”

Jetfire paused, thinking it over. He still hurt, and his brother was clearly injured and needed to recover. “What are you making?” he asked. He’d answer the question once he knew more.

“Soup. It’ll be ready soon. The two of you are welcome to eat as much as you want.” the mech smiled, nodding to somewhere behind Jetfire. “There’s clothes, toys, and some sparkling-friendly snacks there for you, if you want ‘em.”

Jetfire turned to look, then cast a suspicious look at the mech. “You will be giving us food?” he said.

“As much as you want. You won’t go hungry.”

Ha. They’d see about that. Still, if that really was the case, then it would be best for him and Jetstorm to take advantage and recover here. If it turned out they didn’t like it, or that the mech was lying, they could run away again.

“We will stay.” he decided. “But only until my brother is better! If we do not be liking it here, we will be leaving when he is being better!”

The mech laughed, and didn’t seem offended. “Yeah? What if you do like it here, and I can prove to you two I’ll take care of you?”

Jetfire paused. He hasn’t considered that. “…then maybe we will be staying.” he allowed.

He didn’t want to say it definitively. He refused to. He knew Jetstorm wanted a home desperately. He did too. But he refused to trust an offer like this so quickly. It seemed too good to be true. So he’d wait. And if it turned out it was true, well…maybe they really could make home here.

The mech laughed again. “Good enough for me, little bot.” he held out a hand. “I’m Jazz. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He blinked, then slowly reached out and gripping the large hand in both of his. “I am being called Jetfire.”

Jazz grinned at him. Jetfire didn’t understand how a bot could be so happy without pause. “Jetfire, huh? That’s a good name. What’s your brother called?”

“Jetstorm.” he said, frowning some more. This mech confused him.

Thankfully, it seemed Jazz was done, because the bot patted his shoulder gently then stood. “I gotta get back to the soup, but feel free to take what you want from the bags. The room you woke up in is yours. I got another spare bedroom, and I’ll get it set up a bit later. The rooms’ll both be for you and your brother, so the two of you are welcome to use them however you like.” he said gently, then turned and went back to the stove.

Jetfire paused, then scampered to the bags. He pulled out some clothes from one, and from one of the others he grabbed as many of the snacks as he could carry. He knew Jazz had said they’d have as much food as they wanted, but he would feel better knowing that he and Jetstorm had a store of snacks holed up in the room he’d woken in. Just in case.

Arms full, the sparkling ran back the way he’d come, and a few beats later there was the sound of a door clicking shut.

As the sun continued to cross the sky, the smell of warm soup filled the house.

——————————

Jetstorm woke with a groan, batting a heavy hand at whatever had fallen onto his face. His optics slid open slowly, and he was greeted to the sight of…a candy wrapper. Yes, it was definitely a candy wrapper, and it had been left on his face. He stared for a moment, uncomprehending, then twitched his head and huffed as it slid off. He sat up slowly, confused as to why he was in a bed. And in a house? Apparently? He couldn’t see Jetfire. He could see a pile of what looked like clothes on the bed beside him, and a couple of food wrappers. What?

That was when he remembered. The bakery, the baker, telling his brother to run, and then…nothing. He gasped, his hands jerking towards his ribs. Only, one of his arms was bound in a sling. Why? And for that matter, why were his arm and ribs so numb? He’d been injured, hadn’t he? Shouldn’t he be hurting? He looked around, feeling more panicked now and desperately wanting his brother.

Except, if he concentrated, he could hear voices behind the door of the room he was in. He could also smell something. Something good. The scent of what was obviously food made him remember his hunger, and his stomach growled it’s agreement. Still hesitant, he carefully slid off the bed and padded out of the room. When he followed the smell and the voices, he came to a sight that made him stop in his tracks.

Jetfire was seated at a table, dressed in what looked like new clothes, and there was a mech as the kitchen stove standing over a pot that was clearly the source of the good smell. He must have made some noise, because Jetfire’s head napped to him.

“Brother!” his twin dropped from the seat, hurrying over. “You are being awake! I was being worried!”

Jetstorm blinked, looking around in confusion. “Jetfire? Where are we? What happened?”

Jetfire made a noise, then gently pushed him back the way he had came. “I will be explaining now. But you should change into clean clothes first, brother. You will be feeling better, I promise!”

Jetstorm let his brother guide him along back to the room, and he didn’t put up a protest as Jetfire helped him change. With his injuries and his arm in a sling, he’d have difficulty doing it on his own. As they changed out his old clothes for new ones, Jetfire spoke.

“You were hurt very bad, brother.” his voice was weak. “I was being scared. I was being able to take you back to our alley, but I was not knowing how to be helping you.” he explained. “Then Jazz came. That is the mech in the kitchen. He took us to a clinic, and he is promising that he will not be separating us.” By now, Jetstorm was fully clothed and staring at his brother with wide optics.

“Can you be trusting this mech, brother?”

“I…am not being sure, brother.” Jetfire was hesitant. “I am thinking that you should talk to him on your own.”

“He is not hurting us?”

“I do not be thinking so. He says he is making us food.”

Jetstorm blinked, startled by that. “Food?”

“Yes. He is also saying we can eat as much as we be wanting to eat, and there are more snacks for us as well.”

Jetstorm was firmly befuddled now. He frowned, then lifted his chin and marched from the room to the kitchen. Jazz seemed fo hear him come in, because the mech glanced over his shoulder.

“Hey there, bitlet.” he shot the sparkling an easy grin. “It’s good to see you up. You hungry? I got some soup here that’s almost ready.”

“Why?” Jetstorm demanded.

Jazz stopped, then lowered the heat on the stove and turned to crouch in front of him. “Why what?”

“Why are you being helping us? What do you want? Are you going to be separating us when we be giving you what you want?”

Jazz tilted his head, frowning. “Separating you? Nah, little mech, I ain’t gonna do any of that.” he said, voice soft. “In fact, I want to adopt the both o’ you.”

Jetstorm jerked, his optics going impossibly wide. “You are what?”

Jazz chuckled. “I wanna take the both of you in, Jetstorm.”

“Why?”

“Cause no bitlet should live their life on the street, and I don’t want to see the two of you pulled apart.”

Jetstorm wanted to cross his arms, but he couldn’t. He settled for frowning. When he spoke again, his voice was weaker than he wanted it to be. “For how long, then? Until we are being older, and you are not wanting us anymore?” He knew that happened sometimes, and he didn’t want to be abandoned when he and his brother reached adolescence just because they were unwanted.

“No.” Here, the mech’s voice was firm. “That ain’t ever gonna happen. If I take you bitlets in, it’s gonna be forever. I don’t intend to ever give you up.”

Jetstorm stared with teary optics. “Forever?” he repeated.

Jazz softened. “Yeah, bitty. Forever.” he said soothingly.

Jetstorm couldn’t hold back his whimper, and then he was pressing forward to wrap his good arm around Jazz’s middle and burrow his face in his belly. The mech seemed surprised, but then he felt one large hand press very gently into the small of his back, and another spanned across his shoulder blades. He hugged Jazz tightly, and he was held carefully in return. He knew maybe he was being too quick; he could practically sense Jetfire’s disapproval behind them. He knew his brother was far less quick to trust. But he had only ever wanted a home and a family and a place to belong, a place where he and Jetfire could be safe.

Maybe he should be more wary. Maybe he shouldn’t trust that Jazz was telling the truth. Except, from what he’d seen, the mech had gotten the, clothes, snacks, and prepared a room for them. He was cooking them dinner, he’d promised not to separate them, and he had said he intended to adopt the both of them. Maybe this was all a trick, but Jetstorm didn’t think it was. And in light of that, he was all too happy to burrow himself into the offered warmth and protection the adult was offering.

Maybe, just maybe, he and Jetfire had finally found home.

——————————

(A month later, Rodimus pulled up to Jazz’s home with a gift basket in the backseat for the twins. The day after finding the twins, Jazz had called in to work to explain the situation. Magnus had given him time off to get things sorted. It had taken time, but it seemed that Jazz’s connections truly had expedited the process because as of yesterday, Jetstorm and Jetfire were officially his sons. It had taken multiple home visits, multiple interviews, thorough background check, and more than a little bit of patience, but it was done, and Magnus had given Jazz two more months off to get his new family fully settled. Of course, it was mostly because Jazz would be distracted if he came back to work too early, so Magnus wanted to avoid that. But that was all besides the point! Rodimus was here to congratulate his friends and give the brats a gift.

He made to open the car door when Jazz came sprinting onto the front lawn from around the back of the house. He paused for a second, his hand still on the door handle, thinking his friend might be in trouble. But then two little forms were scampering around the edge of the house after the lithe mech, and Rodimus relaxed once he realized what was going on. He grinned upon spotting the loaded water guns in the twins’ hands, and the way Jazz was already partially soaked. He knew Jetfire, by now, was almost fully recovered. He wasn’t in pain anymore, and the only sign of his rather serious bruise now was light discoloration on his belly. He also knew Jetstorm’s concussion had cleared, and he had been allowed to remove the sling a while ago, but his arm and ribs were still fragile. Rodimus could see, even from here, that the blue sparkling was taking it significantly easier than his brother.

As he watched, Jetfire put on a burst of speed that shot him ahead of Jazz, and then he was tackling the adult’s legs. Jazz fell to the ground in a heap, and Jetfire was quick to pounce on his chest. Jetstorm wasn’t far behind, both water guns now abandoned as the sparkling followed his brother’s lead and let himself fall onto Jazz’s stomach. Rodimus could hear all three of them laughing, even without having opened the car door. He watched, a small smile tugging his lips, as Jazz grabbed hold of both sparklings, taking extra care with Jetstorm, and initiated a playful tussle right there on the grass. The twins shrieked with delight, clearly thrilled by the play, and Rodimus watched as they scrabbled all over his friend, trying to pin the bigger bot until Jazz feigned defeat and let them perch victoriously on his back.

Rodimus had told Jazz, on that first day, that he had faith in him. He’d meant it. He knew what the mech was like. He’d known that Jazz would do good by those bitlets. It was clear to him now, that even after such a short time, the Polyhexian loved the twins to bits. And if this little interaction was anything to go by, the boys felt much the same about their new sire. Rodimus smiled, then leaned back in the seat and started up the car. He would come back tomorrow. He’d let the new family have their day. One last look in the rear view mirror as he drove off showed Jazz sitting up, Jetfire pinned in his lap and being mercilessly tickled while Jetstorm hung off Jazz’s back, arms around his neck, and cackled with glee at his brother’s misfortune. Oh yeah, those boys loved Jazz just as much as he loved them.

So it was no surprise to Rodimus when, a year later, Jetstorm came to him and asked if he knew where he could get himself a visor like Jazz’s. Rodimus had only grinned, ruffled the bitlet’s helm, and a week later he was depositing a miniature visor in the delighted sparkling’s hands. Jazz’s stunned expression when he saw Jetstorm’s new look was the perfect way to end that day.)

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So, what did y’all think? I hope you liked it. This was fun to write. I love writing the Jettwins interactions. Also, yes, I did make it so Jetstorm only got his visor after being adopted by Jazz. He wants to copy his new sire! :D (And yes, that does mean he didn’t have a visor for most of the fic.)

Jetfire and Jetstorm have a home now! Jazz may be in a little over his head, but he’ll adapt! I hope I did the C&M AU justice in this one, it’s a lovely idea and I can’t get enough of it. The twins are scrappy little hellions and Jazz is a little lost because he has no experience with wild children. It’s lucky he has some good friends, eh? Anyway, let me know what y’all think! For now though, I gotta get back to writing for my fic prompts.

Until next time, folks!

Also, as with my other fics for Pastel, this one comes with a song! This time, it’s North by Sleeping at Last. I love this song. It’s absolutely perfect for this fic, and I think it honestly suits the Jettwins in the whole AU pretty well too. Give it a listen while/after you read! I promise it’s worth it!