#clawthorn

Ratchet took one of her servos into both of his. He manually moved each of the joints in her fingers, testing their dexterity and smoothness - of which, they were neither. "Maybe not," he acquiesced. Despite Clawthorn being seated, she was still taller - although, only marginally. Softly, Ratchet said, "Look at how much you've grown. You're.." Ratchet's mouth and brows furrowed. He brought Clawthorn's hand to the centre of his orange chevron, bowing his helm to meet it. His forehead made contact with a clunk against the back of her knuckles. "I was so sure that was the last I'd ever see you," he said. "Of all places... you've been here all this time?"

Clawthorn answered with an affirming hum, then asked, "Do you know how long it's been? I... lost track of time."

Clawthorn was startled by a sharp guffaw from her old guardian. "As did we all," he muttered with a touch of bitterness. He raised his head to meet her optics. "What has become of you, Clawthorn? What life have you led, here, on this miserable mudball?"

"This mudball isn't miserable," Clawthorn insisted, leaning forward in earnest. "Ratchet, have you been living under a rock? This planet is beautiful. And I've only seen such a small part! You wouldn't be saying that if I showed you the Pool of Stars. Oh, or the-"

"Alright, alright" Ratchet interrupted. "I hear enough of that from the others. I've seen my share of Earth, thank you. Plenty enough for me."

Clawthorn didn't get what she originally sought, and so reiterated, "How long has it been, Ratchet?"

Ratchet resumed her check-up without further comment. He was evading - a classic Ratchet-tactic. Clawthorn didn't like uncertainty, and the one bot she trusted to resolve it was choosing not to. Why?

"Ratchet," she urged.

Ratchet didn't look up from the diagnostics display in his arm, grunting a, "Hm?"

Ratchet didn't keep secrets often. Actually, that wasn't true: Ratchet kept many secrets. But he always had his reasons. Clawthorn was a secret - for her own protection. But she didn't need protecting now. Perhaps Ratchet was still remembering that weak little newspark that needed to be taught where to hide when company showed up unannounced.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Clawthorn pushed, an undercurrent of desperation slipping through her mask of maintained patience. Tell me, she begged within her mind. What aren't you telling me?

Ratchet stopped his tapping on the screen. Briefly, his optics shuttered and he released one, long sigh. When they opened again, Clawthorn read the regret that he was battling internally.

He said, "Sorry. I was... thinking." All of the time that they missed together, Clawthorn saw reflected in his face. He looked so tired, so worn down... this wasn't the mech that would take little Clawthorn into his arms and laugh, unburdened. They both had changed, but Clawthorn had to wonder what happened to make him so... beaten.

"Please," Clawthorn said, her optics wide and pleading, "tell me."

Ratchet nodded - a single, firm dip of his orange-plated chin. He reached out like he used to when he got serious and Clawthorn clasped his servo, enveloping it entirely. It used to be Ratchet whose hands covered hers; their places had been swapped completely and it was beyond jarring. Ratchet stacked his second servo on top of hers and squeezed.

With all the severity of a diagnosis, Ratchet told her how long - right down to the day they sent her away. Clawthorn felt herself go slack. Her mouth hung open. Her digits went lax. It was impossible. It wasn't- that couldn't be-

Ratchet showed her the date on his diagnostic display, and there it was, laid out before her own optics. Undeniable. Thousands of years may pass in a blink to a Cybertronian, but Clawthorn felt it far too literally in that moment. How long had she spent in stasis? The exact time of her landing was tough to pin down, but she couldn't have been on Earth for less than a few hundred orbits.

Clawthorn read the second date on Ratchet's display that she thought meant nothing to her. 2000-and-some orbits on a small planet with very short days... Clawthorn had been missing thousands longer than the recorded human calendar. How long was she in stasis?

"I just-" Clawthorn said, struggling to sort all of her thoughts, "-it feels like I just..." She couldn't finish her sentence, and so started a new one with the only words that made any sense right now: "I missed you, Ratchet... so much, I can't even put it in words."

Ratchet's smile was torn. It didn't reach his optics. Clawthorn prodded his EM field, but it was carefully controlled, hammered down tight and making him seem even smaller to her. Any emotion that he might be feeling was overshadowed by guilt and sorrow. He wouldn't look her in the eye, dropping instead to their stacked hands. Clawthorn was glowing with joy - perhaps to an overwhelming degree. She remembered how sensitive her mentor was, often withdrawing when others became too much or his surroundings too loud. Clawthorn knew she could be a little much, so she buried her confusion, her hurt, and tamped down her elation. She reigned in her own energy field. The last thing she wanted was to overwhelm Ratchet.

When Clawthorn did this, Ratchet's gaze snapped up. Instantly, he yanked her servo closer and stepped forward.

"Clawthorn," he said, so quickly and desperately that she had to blink. With great effort, Ratchet declared, "I am... very happy that you're here. And I am sorry I haven't said so sooner."

Gently, Clawthorn said, "I know you are, Ratchet. I know how hard words can be."

A helpless look crossed Ratchet's face. He stammered, then said, "They shouldn't be. All that I've faced, and somehow, this is the hardest hurdle I've had to overcome. How? How can words possibly be more challenging than-" Ratchet's mouth clamped shut. He shook his head. "Of all life's mysteries, I have yet to even begin understanding this one."

Clawthorn's smile turned crooked. "You've never been good at emotions, Ratchet - that's all. And that's okay. They're confusing. They wouldn't be emotions if they weren't. They'd just be..." Lamely, Clawthorn ended with, "facts."

Ratchet grumbled, "At least I can work with facts. I can quantify and list and categorize facts. Emotions? Tsk. We don't have time for..." He trailed off. Again, he shook his head.

"How cynical of you," Clawthorn observed, saddened by his conclusion. Ratchet was always a little cynical. A realist, he called himself. Another of Clawthorn's guardians called him the party police - and that mech knew the police. Miko had even drawn that same comparison, back in the 'bridge. Clawthorn thought Ratchet was simply a downer - but she was very young, then. She'd grown a little cynical, herself, though she supposed that was only natural as one's experience also grew. However, Clawthorn was under no illusions: she knew she was naïve. It came with the territory of aging, but at the same time, not. It had occurred to Clawthorn that her body grew while her processor remained stagnant; she was the first Cybertronian in history with that unique experience.

Clawthorn was growing sick of unique experiences. Couldn't she just be normal?

Ratchet made an odd grating sound like he was clearing his vents. He removed his servos and said, "Well... back to our original issue: you still need to initiate a total ventilation purge."

Clawthorn sighed, and then she coughed. "Fine," she croaked. She scratched between her cheek and vent and shyly requested if Ratchet could do it.

Ratchet put up a stern front, but Clawthorn knew he was glad to. Clawthorn reclined on her back, her legs extending off the medical berth and feet flat on the floor. Servos folded over her abdomen, she twiddled her claws while Ratchet went about hooking her up to a tangle of hoses. She counted six, but Ratchet only needed to use four. External purges were just plain quicker and came with a lot less discomfort. The hoses, though - those definitely weren't medical grade.

"I work with what I've got," Ratchet defended shortly when she pointed it out. Touchy subject, Clawthorn noted.

When the purge commenced, Clawthorn slammed her optics shut and thought of better things than all the crud being sucked out. She would never get over the strange sensation. Speaking wasn't discouraged during the procedure, but Clawthorn always clamped up. It felt too weird.

"What're you doing to her?" a familiar voice inquired.

"Ventilation purge," Ratchet informed Miko. Clawthorn peeked one optic to see the girl leaning over the yellow railing, looking down at Clawthorn. Raf wasn't far behind, peering between the bars.

Miko responded, "Oh. So, you're vacuuming her, basically."

"No, I am-" Ratchet failed to correct the human and huffed. "Yes, alright. Very basically, I am vacuuming her. All the foreign objects and dust are detrimental to Clawthorn's wellbeing, so I'm removing them."

"Neat," remarked Raf.

"Hmph. Yes, very 'neat'."

"What does it feel like?" Miko directed at Clawthorn.

Clawthorn's mouth tugged down at the corners. "Baaad," she said, the rumbling machine attached to her making her voice shake.

"It's only uncomfortable," Ratchet explained to the humans. "Completely painless. A routine procedure, but someone neglected to do it on her own and now must reap the consequences."

Clawthorn scowled. Something solid sputtered out of her vent and she pulled a face of horrid disgust. Miko laughed and Clawthorn aimed a betrayed look her way. This position was embarrassing enough - now, she was being laughed at.

It's a little funny, Clawthorn admitted to herself. She didn't take it personally.

"Alright, you two, let's give Clawthorn some privacy," Ratchet ordered. He waved his servos. "Go on, back where you came. Shoo!" The humans scurried away and Ratchet checked the vacuum's capacity. His brows arched. "I'm not surprised," he said dryly. "I should keep this - as an example."

"Nooo," Clawthorn pleaded, voice box a-jitter.

"Or a warning."

"Raatcheeet!"

Ratchet patted her servo, barely concealing his smile. He shut down the machine and disconnected it from the tubing, holding up the dirty container to show off. Clawthorn refused to look.

"I will be right back," he told her, patting her again. But he didn't leave, then - he lingered, holding her servo tight. Clawthorn curled her digits and gave Ratchet's a squeeze.

"I'll be here," she told him. Ratchet remained several moments longer and then walked off with the canister tucked under his arm.

Clawthorn sat up slowly, replanting her feet on the cement as she twisted around. She vented. Already, the air felt cleaner and fuller, actually cooling her systems as intended.

Ratchet was never not going to bring this up for the rest of her life.

Clawthorn folded her arms around her pointed knee guards. She smiled to herself because Ratchet was here. He could bring it up as much as he wanted because Ratchet was here. Clawthorn was just brimming with glee and the giant grin on her face wasn't enough to express it.

"You look happy," a small voice said. Clawthorn looked to the catwalk. The tiniest human - Raf - stood alone. His tiny hands rested on the railing. He was smiling, too.

"I am," Clawthorn said, subconsciously leaning forward. "I could explode right now, and it still wouldn't be enough."

"I've never seen Ratchet like that," the boy said. "It was... nice. He doesn't look happy a whole lot."

Clawthorn's grin shrunk. "Never?"

"Well, sometimes... if the bots find energon. Or his ideas work out. That's about it. Most of the time, he's just... grumpy."

That wasn't far off, but Clawthorn was still hung up on 'never'. Ratchet's heavy, exhausted optics - how he walked like he carried a mountain on his shoulders. And his EM field... Clawthorn didn't know what to make of it. She considered herself pretty good at reading other bots - not only their energy fields. Body language, facial expressions, and she was half-way decent at sniffing out lies. Clawthorn practiced her whole life and was raised by three very different mechs, all of whom expressed themselves differently - one of those guardians being something of a self-proclaimed people-expert, himself. Clawthorn learned how to read visors from him... among other totally-legal and age-appropriate stuff because who didn't know how to bypass locks and hotwire control panels? (That, at least, was the stuff Ratchet knew about; he would have a fit if he learned what Clawthorn's third guardian taught her.)

In short, Clawthorn knew how to read a bot's feelings, even hidden ones. And Ratchet... he was filled with so much sadness and anger and pain, and Clawthorn's spark ached for him. She wished she could make it better. She wished she could take it all away. But part of her - a big part, she reluctantly admitted - also yearned to know why. What happened to Ratchet?

Clawthorn stowed away those thoughts. They were bringing her down, and right now, she wanted to be happy. Just for today - because tomorrows were for worrying.

"Clawthorn?" ventured Raf.

Clawthorn acknowledged the boy with a hum.

He said, "I wanted to ask... I mean, I was just curious about- about what being a monoformer means? I mean, I know what it means, I just mean- urgh." Frustrated, Rafael fixed his lenses. He exhaled. Clawthorn was patient. Starting over, he said, "The big part of Cybertronians is that you transform - 'til now, I thought that was your whole, y'know, thing. So what does it mean if you can't? Does that make you special, or does it..." Raf slid his hands together on the railing. "Does it make you stand out?"

Clawthorn thought hard on her answer. She wanted to give one, but it had to be good. Honest and accurate, but not too scary. Human children spooked easily- she learned that the hard way.

Waiting for an answer, Raf blinked at her behind his big, red spectacles. The longer Clawthorn thought, the more shy Rafael became.

Clawthorn sat upright and said, "Both. I stand out, for sure, but I think I would even if I could transform." She was pleased to see Raf smile, the boy relieved that he hadn't crossed a line. She continued: "Being Cybertronian means transforming is forged into our CNA. Primus makes us in his image, and Primus-" Clawthorn balled her hands together as a demonstration "-transformed into our planet."

"Whoa," Raf exclaimed. "I didn't know that! Wait, hold on, I'm gonna get Jack and Miko! They'll wanna hear this, too!"

Raf trotted off. Clawthorn leaned sideways to follow his journey. The little sitting area wasn't visible, but other bots in the massive room were. Optimus Prime - the revolutionary leader, bearer of the Matrix - was unmistakeable, his red shoulders rising up over the human platforms, but Clawthorn's attention was drawn to the unfamiliar green mech. Should she go say hello?

The green bot sensed Clawthorn's stare and turned his head. Confusion, recognition, and caution flashed in quick succession on his face, his hinged jaw setting with uncertainty.

Clawthorn waved.

Tentatively, the green bot waved back. Movement caught his eye and he watched the trio of humans patter towards the lab - toward Clawthorn. Raf had ahold of Jack's sleeve and Miko's wrist and was pulling them behind him. Miko wore that same excited look as when Clawthorn explained her favourite sport. Jack, on the other hand, was apprehensive.

"Hi," Raf said breathlessly, "I'm back!"

"What are we-" started Jack.

Miko shushed him.

"Don't shush me," Jack retorted.

Miko shushed him again. "I wanna hear," she said. She dropped down and dangled her striped legs over the catwalk, laying her arms on the bottom rung of the railing. She kicked her heels back-and-forth, focused wholly on Clawthorn as she urged, "C'mon, spill!"

"Okay, okay," Clawthorn said, growing giddy. Now that she had an audience, she had to make it good. So, she started from the beginning: Primus - and Unicron. The humans had never heard this tale, and Clawthorn had never told it. She hoped she did it justice. She gesticulated wildly while avoiding the attached hoses, using her claws to emphasize the battle between good and evil: Primus and his children versus the Eater of Worlds and manifestation of chaos.

Raf raised a finger, saying, "By 'eater of worlds', do you mean..."

"Literally, he ate planets," Clawthorn confirmed, demonstrating by balling up one servo and clamping the other around it. "Destruction sustained him. His only purpose was to destroy."

"We have stories like that, too," Miko said, listing off on her fingers, "There's that snake that chomps on the big tree in Norse mythology, a snake that swallows the sun in Egyptian mythology, a snakey Hindu dude... a lot of snakes. Oh, and that Greek guy that ate his kids."

"I'm impressed," commented Jack. He was seated next to Miko, his legs also dangling off the catwalk.

"I pay attention, alright?" Miko defended. "Sometimes. When it's cool."

Miko's mention of snakes reminded Clawthorn of the snake carved in stone outside the village. Snakes held significance to those people, too. Was it an entity of destruction, or creation? She couldn't remember.

A dour mood fell upon Clawthorn as grief reared its head. She pushed past it, focusing on the living humans in her presence right now.

"I'd like to hear more about those myths some day," Clawthorn said. Her tone grew dark; mysterious. "But Unicron is no myth."

That statement earned her their undivided attention. The humans' widened eyes were solely on her.

Clawthorn waggled her big claws through the air. "Though he was defeated, no one knows what became of Unicron. He could still be out there, growing in power so that he can return and take his revenge on Primus. Devouring Cybertron, once and for all! Then, nobot could stop him... and who knows? Next, he might come for Earth."

"Clawthorn!"

Clawthorn and the kids jumped simultaneously. Raf squeaked and wrapped his arms around Jack, who exhaled sharply. Miko cackled.

Clawthorn turned her helm and smiled sheepishly at Ratchet. Ratchet did not look impressed.

"Enough," he scolded her. "You'll give them nightmares."

"We're not babies, Ratchet," Miko complained. "We can handle it."

Raf gulped and nodded into Jack's shoulder, whimpering, "Mm-hm." Jack patted the boy's back.

It may have slipped Clawthorn's mind that she wasn't supposed to spook them. She got too wound up in the story - and that bit about Earth she definitely should have left out.

"Sorry," she said, aimed both at the kids and Ratchet. "I was- I got sidetracked."

"Scaring them with tall tales," Ratchet said with a scoff. "You're just as bad as-"

Ratchet cut himself off. He hooked up the clean canister without another sound. Clawthorn chose not to pry and turned back to the humans.

"Anyway," Clawthorn said, "that's not why you're here."

"It's why I'm here," Miko said. "If this gets boring, I'm out."

"I'll try to make it entertaining. So, Primus created the original thirteen Primes, and each one was special. They were the blueprints for every Cybertronian today. Onyx Prime was the first beastformer, Minimus was the first Minicon, Amalgamous was the first Shifter, and so on. But every-"

Miko raised her hand. Clawthorn paused, puzzled by the action. Taking advantage of her opportunity, Miko dropped her arm and said, "What makes a Shifter so special? Isn't shapeshifting kinda the whole deal?"

Clawthorn said, "Yes, but! Shifters aren't limited to an alternate mode. They can take on a completely different form, even turning into other bots. Neat, huh?"

Contrary to Clawthorn's expectation, the humans didn't find this neat at all, each of their faces pinching in displeasure.

"Oh, so like Makeshift," Miko said, significantly less interested and crossing her arms with a thump over her chest. "I hate that guy. He grabbed me."

"He was mean," supported Raf.

"He pretended to be Wheeljack and almost let a bunch of 'Cons into the base," Jack explained, derision dripping from his tone.

"Oh," said Clawthorn, taken aback. "I'm... sorry that happened. Are you alright?"

"Duh," said Miko. "I'm tougher than I look. Plus, that guy didn't stand a chance when the real Wheeljack busted his can and booted him out the groundbridge with a live grenade on 'im. Heh. That was cool."

"He held you hostage," Jack reminded her.

"And I'm still alive! Makeshift can bite it."

"Pretty sure he already did," Raf said, nudging his lenses up his nose.

"You never know - he might show up for round two!"

"Makeshift is well and truly deceased," Ratchet stated. "Thank the Allspark. That mech has been a nail in my tires."

Ratchet didn't elaborate. He checked the hoses and then switched on the vacuum once more, filling the atmosphere with its droning hum. Clawthorn grimaced. She didn't lie down this time.

"And then what?" Miko prompted Clawthorn, a mischevious smirk on her face.

Clawthorn knew what Miko was doing. Clawthorn sent a weak scowl the human's way and continued her speech, regardless of her buzzing voice box: "Everryy bot aliive to this dayy can be traced back to the Priimes, and evvery one of them could transfoorm. It's intrinsic to Cyybertroonian anatomy. Has aanyone told you about teee-cogs?"

Three heads shook in unison.

Miko asked, "Is that like a t... bone?"

Clawthorn explained. Ratchet listened closely and his nod of approval flooded Clawthorn with pride.

"So, every bot has a t-cog," Raf surmised.

"Everyy bot," Clawthorn said, pointing a thumb at herself, "except mee."

Ratchet busied himself with checking the vacuum again.

Clawthorn said, "I told youu I wasn't fully forrmed, right? That incluudes my t-cog."

"Wait," Jack interjected, throwing up his arms to show his palms, "but I thought everybody was born with one? Why not you? Why would Primus overlook that part, if it's so important?"

Ratchet deactivated the machine. His back faced them as he removed the canister for a second time.

"I've asked myself that since I could ask anything," Clawthorn replied, looking past the humans as old reflections rose to the surface. "Why me? Why am I the different one? Why did I get the bad luck? I used to agonize over it." Refocusing on her audience, Clawthorn spread her servos and shrugged. "Now, I've come to accept that even gods make mistakes. But it's not so bad. Honestly, the worst part was hiding it." Clawthorn snickered, saying, "You know, we used to magnetize parts onto me. Doors and wheels, so that nobody questioned it. I used to pass as a Minicon, if you can believe it. And in emergencies, I'd hide in their subspace - like a Symbiote. I remember a time I used to be only a little bigger than you! That was so long ago... I'd get all cozy and have a nap while they did errands. I miss it."

"I hid in Bulk's chest once," Miko said. "It wasn't fun or cozy. I threw up."

Ratchet snapped around. "You did what?"

Miko's face flew into alarm, brows shooting up behind her pink bangs. "Uhh, you didn't hear that."

"Miko, that is incredibly dangerous! Your limbs could've snapped! You could've lost-" Ratchet huffed harshly and planted his fists on his hips. "It seems I need to have a chat with your guardian."

Miko waved her arms wildly. "Nonono! Bulkhead didn't know! He thought I was out, and then he was storming the 'Cons' ship, and-"

"What?"

At once, Miko's lips sealed and tucked inward. She innocently tapped two fingers together, then clasped her hands and smiled, lipless. Ratchet sighed and pinched between his optics.

"Is Bulkhead that green bot?" Clawthorn asked the room.

Miko's eyes lit up. "Sure is!" she chirped, clapping her hands down on the railing. "Bulk's the best. He takes me dune-bashing and off-roading, and he loves the same music I do!"

"Sounds fun," Clawthorn said, genuine.

"We race, too," Raf said, Miko's excitement infecting him as he bragged, "Bee and me usually win."

"Sometimes," Jack playfully corrected. "Arcee smoked you guys last time."

"Arcee started too early," Miko claimed. "I didn't yell 'go' yet."

Raf bobbed his head in agreement. Jack scoffed and made an excuse about excuses. Although Clawthorn was smiling, she felt out of place in the discussion - not only as a stranger.

"Hate to interrupt this riveting conversation," Ratchet interjected, not at all remorseful, "but I am busy, here. You may talk later - after I've gotten Clawthorn cleaned up of all this gunk."

"I can do it myself," Clawthorn insisted.

Removing the hoses, Ratchet pointedly held one up and shook it. "Do you really expect me to believe that? Really?"

Clawthorn sank into herself. She wasn't a sparkling anymore - it was embarrassing. Clawthorn supposed she would have a hard time getting those hard-to-reach places on her own... and cleaning was going to be really unpleasant.

"We can help with that," Jack offered.

Miko pulled a face at him. "We will?"

"Yeah! Come on. We help Clawthorn, the sooner we can all hang out. Just don't think of it as a chore."

"More like a... game," Raf suggested. "Or an icebreaker."

These didn't improve Miko's outlook, but she begrudgingly agreed to help.

"No, really, you don't have to, I can-" Clawthorn was saying.

Ratchet talked over her, asserting, "Excellent idea, Jack. The four of you can head on over to the washracks right now."

"Ratchet?" Clawthorn inquired, noting his own exclusion. Despite her earlier headbutting, the notion that Ratchet would be gone was severely distressing.

"I'm going to gather up some brooms and brushes," Ratchet elaborated. "And the remnants of this garden hose. I'll join you afterward."

That settled, the humans clambered down the metal staircase. Clawthorn heaved herself upright, swinging her helm to even out the weight of her antlers. Really, they were shaped more like a horned crown - but Clawthorn thought her horns were more silly than royal. She felt like a satellite dish when she turned her head.

"C'mon, this way," Miko declared, leading their charge down the corridor. Clawthorn gave Ratchet one final smile and trailed after the humans.

Behind, Clawthorn heard heavy steps confront Ratchet. A voice - somehow, deeper than the Prime's - said, "Is that a good idea? Letting them go off together?"

Snappish, Ratchet responded, "I assure you, Bulkhead, the children are perfectly safe with my ward."

"Alright... sorry, Ratch, didn't mean to rile you up. We just don't know her as well as you. Can't help worrying. You get it, right?"

Ratchet was calmer, more understanding, as he said, "Yes. Yes, of course, I do. Now, what was that about storming..."

Losing their voices, Clawthorn tuned in to her present company's.

"Why do you know where the bots' showers are?" Jack asked like he really didn't want to know.

Miko spluttered a sound of dismissal. "Exploring, duh. I've got this whooole place mapped out."

"You haven't explored the base?" Raf said to Jack, incredulous.

Jack, embarrassed to discover that he was the odd one out, replied, "Uh. No."

Miko said, "You literally asked me to find the bots' sock drawers, day one."

"I wasn't serious."

Clawthorn's stomps filled the silence between sentences. She walked slowly, allowing the humans to get ahead before she took another step. Despite having enough clearance, she instinctively hunched over. She kept imagining the points of her helm scraping the ceiling 'til they were filed down to nubs.

Clawthorn had nothing to add to the discussion and didn't speak up until addressed directly. It was little Raf who did, straying off to the side and craning his head back. They were all so small down there.

"What do you do for fun, Clawthorn?" he asked. Jack and Miko looked over their shoulders, equally curious.

"For fun," Clawthorn echoed, thinking of her pastimes then versus now. "Walking - I do that a lot. Um... sometimes, I rewatch my show. Stargazing... oh! And I enjoy puzzles. I have this puzzle cube, but it's too small for me now."

Raf perked up. "Could I see?"

Clawthorn's optics brightened. "Sure! It might be a bit unwieldy, but that's alright. Maybe you can beat it for me."

The showers weren't far - the space slug's crawl that they traveled only made it seem that way. And Clawthorn's feeling of impending doom. To Raf, she explained the puzzle cube's never-ending levels that she had been so determined to complete - until her digits became too large for its intricate mechanisms. It had to have an end, she was certain.

"Aaand ta-da," Miko said without any flair or showmanship, flinging an arm toward the long room. "The boring showers."

It was tiled wall-to-floor, drains embedded in even rows down to the other end. The knobs and faucets sat at human level, but adjustments had been made with pipes and showerheads closer to the ceiling. Ratchet's handiwork, no doubt.

"So," Clawthorn awkwardly led with. Her servos closed into fists, then opened to tap her six claw tips on her thighs. She reconsidered this whole 'getting clean' thing and contemplated running back to Ratchet - who would only drag her back, dammit.

All three humans turned to look up at her. Clawthorn's claw-tapping increased in speed. She stared straight ahead at the showers.

"It's okay if you're nervous," Raf said. "I would be, too."

"I didn't think about how weird this was gonna be for everyone involved," Jack admitted, rubbing his neck.

"Prudes," Miko taunted. Jack blustered in offense and Miko, baffled, said, "Guys, it's just a car wash - minus the car."

"You're forgetting the car is actually a person," Jack said.

"A person who really needs a bath, dude. Don't chicken out now. We're here, we've committed. Don't forget you made us come here! It's too late to bail." Miko's smirk crawled wider, a glint in her eyes. "Unless... you're a wimp."

Something within Jack gave out and his shoulders fell with a great exhale. "Alright," he said, "let's do this."

While Jack fiddled with the faucets, Clawthorn clomped dreadfully slowly to stand beneath the shower head. Jack turned a valve and cold water sprayed Clawthorn directly in the face. He apologized and immediately shut it off, but Clawthorn truly was not bothered. She ran too hot for a little brittle temperature to do any harm. Jack let the pipes run and Clawthorn closed her optics, allowing the slowly warming water to trickle over her no-doubt dusty faceplate. Miko had dragged Rafael into the locker room in search of towels or anything else useful in their endeavour. Clawthorn picked up echoes of their voices, low chatter and giggles - then, a squeal.

Clawthorn opened her eyes to see Miko chasing Rafael out of the locker room with some sort of garment dangling from her fingers.

"Gross!" Raf laughed. He didn't stop even when Miko did, putting Clawthorn's leg between himself and whatever she held.

"Miko, what is-" Jack's face twisted into an incredible level of disgust. "Ew! Don't touch that! You don't know where that's been or whose it is! Or how long it's been there! Put it back!"

"It's probably Fowler's!" Miko teased. She approached Jack and he backed away, nearly bumping into Clawthorn in his haste to get away. He was close enough for water dripping off Clawthorn's armour to land on him.

Jack cried, "Miko, seriously, don't! That's so unsanitary and- and nasty. There's probably so many diseases on that! And mold! Go put it back!"

Miko regarded the garment. Her nose wrinkled. "Yeah, you're right." Miko grinned and mimed throwing it. "Probably got cooties!"

Raf made a gagging noise.

"Miko," Jack said, torn between scolding and begging and looking ready to bolt.

"Alright," Miko said as she spun around, "I'm going!"

"Wash your hands!" Jack yelled after her. "Like, five times!"

"Yeah, yeah!"

Jack and Raf sighed in relief.

On top of her amusement, Clawthorn was very confused. There had been a smile on her face during the entire debacle.

"Not a towel?" Clawthorn gathered.

Jack shuddered. "Trust me, you don't wanna know." He ruffled his hair and looked at the damp spots on his shirt, saying, "We should probably be wearing swim suits. Oh, well."

"We're definitely all gonna need showers after this," Raf said, watching the rivulets of dirty water falling from Clawthorn wash down the drain.

All three of them grimaced.

Clawthorn angled her antlers beneath the spray, hanging her head to reach the back of her neck. The droplets tickled. She was wetting her blocky shoulder when Miko heralded her own return with a blaring exclamation not disimilar to a musical instrument.

"Towels!" Miko announced, lifting the stack in her arms. "You're welcome, everybody."

Jack eyeballed the stack before gingerly taking one. With a thwap, Jack shook out a layer of dust that had been sitting on top.

"Can't be worse than Thorny over here," Miko said. She had a point, and Clawthorn wasn't picky.

So, the humans got to work. Clawthorn sturdily rooted herself to the tiles while they scrubbed her armour. Raf and Miko clambered atop each foot while Jack remained on the floor. Clawthorn had taken the largest towel and was wiping down her arms, using the tips of her talons to pick out debris between seams and joints. Chunks of dirt and moss cluttered the floor and the water swirling down the drain was tainted. Idle chatter filled the space when the humans weren't laughing as they evaded mossy mortars falling from the sky. Clawthorn overcame her shame in the pursuit of seeing her true colours again. Her primary shade was brown, making their jobs unnecessarily harder, but the humans were nothing if not tenacious.

Ratchet made his appearance just as Clawthorn had sat down. He carried a small pail on one finger and a green hose coiled around his arm; in his other servo were several mops with long handles and thick bristles.

Ratchet set down the pail, saying, "How are things looking in here?"

The humans ditched their soiled towels and raided the pail. Jack took a proffered mop from Ratchet's open hand. The other mop, Ratchet encouraged Rafael to exchange for the small brush the boy had chosen. Ratchet hooked up the hose while Miko ran around blotting soap onto every square micrometre of Clawthorn's armour. Clawthorn observed from her seated position, twisting her helm to follow the girl. She lost track and startled when, suddenly, Miko was scaling her chassis like some sort of scrabbling scraplet.

"Hello," Clawthorn said, leaning back.

"Hiya," Miko said back, hanging off a ridge of the bot's chest by one hand. Miko squeezed the bottle and blue cleaning solution poured down Clawthorn's dirty chestplate that once might have been a shade of gold.

"Miko!" Jack yelled below. "You're wasting it! We're not even close to there, yet!"

Miko stuck out her tongue and made that spluttering sound again, mimicking a faulty engine. Clawthorn giggled. What a strange way to express oneself! Humans were so creative.

Miko moved to pull herself up, but the soap had worked to her detriment and her feet slipped. One-handed, she had no hope of saving herself.

Clawthorn didn't hesitate, leveling her servo beneath the human. Miko looked down and dropped of her own volition, landing in Clawthorn's massive palm.

Miko stuck up her thumb. "Thanks for the save, Thorny!"

Miko weighed next to nothing. This discovery was discomforting - another reminder of how small humans were and how large Clawthorn had grown. Another reminder of their fragility. This human, who had no concern for their difference in scale, was relying on Clawthorn to keep her safe. The human was lighter than air, but the life in Clawthorn's hand weighed heavy on her spark; so, too, did the two other lives ambling on the ground below that trusted her not to move. How did the others handle this stress? Did they worry that the slightest twitch could end a life? Did they worry that, one day, their little friends wouldn't be around anymore?

Clawthorn didn't realize she was projecting her fears so openly until she felt a tiny hand on her mucked-up chestplate.

"Thorny?" Miko said, her teeny brows wrinkling her fleshy forehead. "You... good?"

Clawthorn released the frown that had seized her features so severely. Her optics whirled as she blinked. "Yes," she answered too quickly.

Doubt scrawled across Miko's face.

Clawthorn caved. She said, "I will be."

"Yeah? You... look like you wanna cry."

Their conversation was not private. Jack and Raf looked up from their brooming and mopping. Raf, perched on Clawthorn's shin, said her name. He spoke it quietly, questioningly, and Clawthorn let her big shoulders slump. They were so kind to her... she may as well tell them. Tell someone.

Behind her, Ratchet was a solid presence. His tinkering was quiet, persistent, and his occasional grumbles were immensely comforting.

"There was a village," she began, only to stop as the grief returned. It choked her words.

"A village?" Raf prompted - like he already knew the answer to his leading question.

Ratchet's tinkering fell silent.

"Ages ago," Clawthorn pushed herself to say. "A little village of little people. I met them after my crash. I was so scared and- and, you know, confused. I didn't know where I was. Where to go. I sort of just... stumbled into their home." A weak laugh wrenched out of her voice box. "I trampled one of their farms. I tried to apologize, but they were so scared - they couldn't understand me. And then this one with grey hair starts yelling at me. No fear. Wagging her finger, like this." Clawthorn demonstrated with her free hand, putting on a stern expression. A nostalgic smile interrupted Clawthorn's performance. "I didn't know how to react. This little organic, telling me off! I tried to fix the farm, but the damage was done."

Clawthorn saw the memory files playing in her processor as she recounted the tale. To her, the events were so recent that the details were still fresh: the rich green vegetation; the scent of meat cooking over a fire, though she didn't know that in the moment - all these smells and sights and sounds were brand new. The crying children, the baying goats in their paddock, the little old lady that stared up at the metal titan and scolded it like a youngling.

Clawthorn hadn't known what to do. There was so much going on, it was overwhelming. She looked at the sprouts she had crushed under-heel and knelt down, trying in vain to straighten them and only crushing them further. Panicked, Clawthorn glanced between the small aliens and the plot of dirt and back to the aliens. Their squishy little faces twisted in ways that Cybertronians could only convey in the most limited form. Fear was turning into bemusement, bemusement into anger and inquisition.

The old organic scowled at Clawthorn, snapping another admonishment and resting wrinkled hands on her hips. Clawthorn stared helplessly, her head bowed in shame. She withdrew her too-big servos, curling them on her lap. She didn't mean to. It was an accident!

The old woman's features shifted, angry wrinkles loosening as a harsh huff left her mouth. She gestured toward the crop, then waved her arms across each other, aiming the motion toward Clawthorn. Clawthorn's puzzlement deepened. Tentatively, Clawthorn shook her helm, the stubby beginnings of horns making the motion wobbly. Clawthorn reached forward again, resting the tips of her claws in the toiled dirt.

"I'm sorry," Clawthorn had said, then, meaning it with every fiber optic of her being.

The old woman's face softened. She spoke even softer. Then, she gathered up her skirt and knelt. She dug her spindly fingers into the soil and unveiled a green sprout among the disheleveled clumps of Clawthorn's attempts to correct her mistake. The woman straightened the stalk. When it didn't flop over, the woman smiled at Clawthorn and splayed her palms as if to say, 'See? All better.'

Clawthorn's optics widened. It was fixable. The organic wasn't upset!

Clawthorn smiled back.

In the present, Clawthorn's smile faded. She said, "They welcomed me. Once my translator kicked in, they... I became part of them. They thought I was a beast of the mountain... protector, they called me. When I told them I came from the stars, it was hard to convince them I wasn't some mythical guardian sent from the gods. I think the elders knew. But they let the children believe it. I did, too. How could I not with their cute little faces? But..." Clawthorn's guilt returned with a vengeance. "But I wasn't. I just- I turned my back and left them. They welcomed me, gave me a home, and I abandoned them."

Clawthorn couldn't bear to look at the humans. She closed her optics. Miko weighed nothing. It would be so easy to forget she was there - easy as shutting her eyes and going to sleep.

Clawthorn felt a servo settle on top of her helm. Ratchet reached his EM field out to hers, equal parts mournful and comforting. Clawthorn tucked her chin into her collar, squashing a childish whimper that escaped as a hum.

"Oh, Clawthorn..." Ratchet said.

"I found a tree," Clawthorn said, "and I shut myself down. I was-" Another hum disguising a whine, now much more forceful. "I was selfish. I wanted to go home so badly, I- I thought if I shut down, someone would find me faster."

Ratchet's digits curled, blunt tips scraping as if he could dig them in. He didn't have the claws for it. Instead, he rubbed her head. Clawthorn didn't allow herself to enjoy the touch; she wanted to pull away. She didn't deserve it.

"They died," Clawthorn whispered. "All of them. I woke up, and I went there, but it was all... it was just..."

"Ruins," Rafael quietly concluded for her.

Clawthorn jerkily nodded. Ratchet's servo resettled, scraping his thumb up and down the back of her helm in gentle waves. That was his go-to when she was a sparkling, back when he could cradle her head in one hand. The repetitive motion always calmed her down.

Something warm pressed against Clawthorn's face. Her vents rushed in a gasp and her optics flew open.

She didn't notice Miko climbing her chest. She didn't feel it 'til the girl threw herself at the giant bot and spread her arms as wide as they would go, her wingspan not even reaching the vents embedded next to Clawthorn's cheeks.

"That sucks," Miko said, muffled against the metal of Clawthorn's faceplate. "Like, really sucks. 'M sorry you went through that, dude."

Clawthorn smiled sadly. Glancing down, Clawthorn's spark hummed at the sight of Raf embracing part of her leg and Jack laying a hand on her foot. Jack looked up at her - a stranger - with nothing but support.

"Thank you," Clawthorn murmured - even though it hurt to accept. They didn't know she wasn't worthy; she didn't deserve this comfort. She was an imposter, taking advantage of their kindness - just like that Shifter. Ironic, then, that she didn't even need to change shape.

Ratchet didn't stop rubbing his thumb in that same, steady motion, the repetitive sound and feeling very effective at grounding her.

Clawthorn remembered, suddenly, that every emotion broiling in her spark was being projected unabashedly. It'd been so long since she was around other Cybertronians... organics couldn't read EM fields, so there was no point reeling hers in.

Ratchet knew exactly what she was feeling.

Because, she realized, he felt it, too.

"Um," Clawthorn said loudly. Miko peeled herself off Clawthorn's face and Rafael sat up, fixing his square lenses. Clawthorn apologized, then said, "I didn't mean to derail. We'll be here all day."

"Good," Ratchet stated. Sternly, "You need it."

A shower? Very badly. Speaking of - Clawthorn twisted her helm to peek at Ratchet's tinkering.

Miko went, "Whoa!" and Clawthorn stilled. How could she forget about the human?!

Tiny hands scrabbled across Clawthorn's cheek, and before Clawthorn could even think to stop what was happening, there were boots scaling her vent like a stepladder.

"UH," Clawthorn exclaimed in alarm.

Climbing proceeding, Miko declared, "Have I said how freakin' COOL your horns are, dude!? Like a giant deer." Miko settled atop Clawthorn's helm, looking over her friends like a queen on the parapet of her castle. "Antlers are so cool, man. If I had antlers, I'd be a menace."

"As if you aren't already," Jack dryly remarked, then raised his voice to say, "Get down! You're freaking Clawthorn out. You can't just climb people without asking!"

"She isn't Bulkhead," Raf added in support.

"It's- it's fine," Clawthorn said, even though she would really prefer Miko didn't. She had never been so blatantly used as scaffolding. "Just be safe. Please."

"I'm watching her," Ratchet grumbled.

Clawthorn couldn't see Miko grin and wave at Ratchet. The girl was nearly at his eye level. Ratchet was unimpressed. He raised the garden hose that he had hooked up to the faucet and aimed it at her.

Miko's eyes narrowed. In retaliation, she pointed her half-emptied bottle of soap at his face "You wouldn't."

Ratchet contemplated, and the pair stared each other down in challenge. Then, he sighed - as if not being able to douse the human was divine punishment.

Ratchet said, "Alright, you three, clear out. Unless you want to end up soaked. I have no qualms with it."

Jack helped Raf off Clawthorn's shin and Ratchet held out his servo for Miko, who was very disappointed to have her perching cut short. She crawled into his palm; his joints groaned as he knelt to let her hop to the floor.

Clawthorn called out Ratchet's own lack of self-care. He scoffed, but his squeaking knees gave him no leg to stand on.

Ratchet turned on the hose and stood up. The stream hit Clawthorn's antlers and sent water scattering every which way. Below, the humans protested amongst their laughter. Miko ran and jumped, hootin' and hollering as she purposefully put herself within the splash zone. Raf and Jack shielded their heads.

"Mom's gonna be so confused," Jack said, inconvenienced but accepting it as just part of the gig now.

"Tell her you ran through somebody's sprinklers 'cause it's hot as balls outside," Miko suggested, finally taking cover beneath Clawthorn's crooked knee. She wrung out her long hair, which was tied near the bottom and almost gave her the illusion of a tail. Ratchet had moved the hose, targeting Clawthorn's back and simultaneously spraying himself. He wasn't bothered - in fact, he had shared a secret smile with himself, betraying his enjoyment of the children's antics. Specifically, Miko's. But he would never admit that.

"I'm giving up," Raf said, shucking his orange sweater vest. "Ratchet, could you subspace this, please?"

To save Ratchet's joints, Clawthorn offered to store it, instead. She rested her forearm on the tiled floor and Raf laid his second layer over one of her digits. Careful of the tips of her massive digits, Clawthorn made a fist. When she opened it, the garment was gone.

"I'm never getting over that," Jack said in a mix of disbelief and awe.

"A whole other dimension of pockets," Raf said, still staring at Clawthorn's empty servo. "I'd never have to worry about my laptop again."

"I could fit so many snacks," Miko yearned.

"It is very handy," Clawthorn agreed. "That's where I put all the pretty rocks I find. So many colourful minerals on this world..."

Raf's eyes sparkled - or perhaps it was simply the light glancing off his lenses. "Will you show me? Pleease?"

"After," Clawthorn promised - going so far as to set a reminder in her chronometer. She had yet to even introduce him to the puzzle cube!

"You're a collector?" Jack asked.

"I suppose I am. There's another hobby! Guess I just lumped it in with the walking. Would you count energon crystals as collecting? They're so pretty - sometimes, I just stare at them."

"You found energon?" Ratchet asked, stopping the hose in place.

"Yes? That's where, um... oh! Arcee and Bumblebee are going. I assume. If there was another deposit, I would have found it."

"That- how? Did you bring a scanner with you?"

Unquestionably certain, Clawthorn said, "No, I followed the trail. It led me straight there. I climbed down the cliff and broke it open, and there was energon."

"...you're ingesting its raw form," Ratchet concluded.

Clawthorn carried on: "It's richer than processed energon. You won't believe this, but the crystals taste so much better. Processed just seems... dull in comparison."

"Your energy efficiency," Ratchet said, an edge to his voice, "with unprocessed energon, it won't reach optimal levels-"

Before he could start spiraling, Clawthorn cut him off: "I remember, but I swear to you, Ratchet, I've been functioning perfectly fine. I mean, even with my abnormalities... admit it: a deficient mech would not look like me. You didn't find anything wrong in your scans, did you?"

"Well... nothing of pressing concern. But-!"

"I'll stop doing it," Clawthorn said. "You're here, now, so I'll be fueling properly in the future. You're wasting water."

Rachet grumbled incoherently as he resumed rinsing her down. He shooed the humans, again, and doused the rest of her. He asked Jack to turn off the water, then gave the children permission to continue. They hefted their brooms and brushes and Miko wielded her soap bottle wisely, waiting until her friends were caught up before applying more. Clawthorn requested her own tool and Ratchet provided her with a scrubbing cloth fit for a transport frame. Clawthorn would lower the cloth and Miko would dutifully squeeze a generous amount of soap onto, which created a veritable waterfall of suds as Clawthorn cleaned herself.

Ratchet rinsed Clawthorn off for the final time.

The humans stood back, in various states of bedraggled that ordered Jack last. Miko and Raf had lost any hope of staying dry and embraced a soggy existence. Both boys had rolled up their pants and ditched their socks, though Jack had refused to lose his shoes for sanitary reasons. Miko, on the other hand, did not care and dove in with everything she had - with the exception of her phone, sitting on a bench on the other side of the room.

"It's like a water park," Miko had happily declared - immediately before skipping over to Jack and shaking out her sopping wet hair for the express purpose of making him squeal. (He did.)

Clawthorn rose to her full height, spinning in place while Ratchet hosed off any remaining bubbles. She looked down at her bulky arms and legs, examining her matte brown and brawny brass armour that had blended so well among the moss and dirt. Clawthorn found she missed the moss: something alive - that didn't have claws or leave waste - thriving on her frame. Something pretty and soft and a lovely shade of green. Green was so beautiful. She would've liked to be green, thought Clawthorn, remiss that she had never been able to change her colours - or even get a spray-on job.

"You're a brand new bot, Thorny!" Miko cheered.

Jack said, "Lookin' good."

Rafael squinted hard. He blinked, then trotted toward the benches where Miko's phone safely lay. Raf called behind him: "One sec! I can't see without my glasses. You're all blobs."

Miko teased, "Don't trip, Gramps."

"Gramps?" Clawthorn muttered.

"Grandpa," Jack said. "Or grandfather. Older man in your family, father of your father."

"Usually grouchy, but they still care about you," Miko added, "or need glasses to see."

Clawthorn glanced at Ratchet.

Raf put on his glasses. Hopping up on a bench to fix his apparel, he said, "It's genetic. I get all the hand-me-downs."

Jack snorted in response. Reminded, Clawthorn shook the last droplets from her servo and retrieved Rafael's woolly vest from subspace. She took a few steps and stretched out her arm, tipping her hand. The boy's vestment dropped on his head.

"Ha-hey!" Raf complained, yanking it down. He was grinning. "Thanks! I'm a little soggy right now..."

"I should go home and get a change of clothes," Jack said.

"Same," Miko said. Her hair poofs drooped from the extra weight.

"I'm sure Bulkhead will be happy to drive you three muskrats home," Ratchet said, only a little sarcastic. Clawthorn pondered what a 'muskrat' might be.

"Yeah, and get his seats all soggy," Jack said.

"Bulk doesn't care," Miko chimed in.

"We'll ask him," Raf said, joining his friends. His vest hung over his arm.

"I already have," Ratchet said. He coiled the disconnected hose around his arm. "Chop-chop! Off you go. Don't keep him waiting."

Ratchet was met with four young faces ranging from exasperated to perplexed.

Miko sighed dramatically. "Any chance to get rid of us, huh?"

Raf failed to hide his smile. Jack ushered them along with a, "Let's go. Wet clothes are the worst."

The trio puttered off, laughing and teasing amongst themselves. Clawthorn stayed. She turned to her mentor and guardian.

Solemn, Clawthorn asked, "Do you really hate them so much?"

Ratchet vented and raised his optics. There was no hate to speak of. Annoyance, exhaustion, even fondness - but no hatred.

"Little monsters," Ratchet stated.

Through a smile, Clawthorn said, "That terrible?"

Ratchet spluttered - the very same sound that Miko made - and averted his eyes. He said, "Always scuttling around our heels like retro-rats, getting themselves into trouble. This place was quieter without them. I could hear myself think."

"Mm-hm," Clawthorn hummed, still smiling.

Ratchet side-eyed her. "Not a word, Clawthorn."

"I'm not saying anything."

"I mean it."

"Of course. You have an image to maintain."

Ratchet sighed. He started after the humans, whose voices echoed down the corridor. "Come along. I'm sure Optimus has prepared a speech for you or some other such sort. He does love his speeches."

Clawthorn fell in stride behind Ratchet, commenting, "Exciting!"

"Oh, quite the opposite, trust me."

- - -

Chapter 1