This is the final chapter of my old story. I'm sad to see it go, probably more so than the first time. There are no more original comments, but I hope everybody enjoys it, and I want everybody to know there is a sequel called 'Growing Pains'. That one is also complete, and I won't be touching it for a while. Have fun!
Silverstreak stretched luxuriously as he woke up. His dreams had been rather fun last night, what with Rodimus forcing them all to play games. It was a very pleasant change from all the drama he'd been through. He looked up into the sunlit sky and sighed. Time to head back to face the chaos he'd caused. Again. Silverstreak stood up and started to run, this time taking more care of the wildlife around him. Within minutes the base came into view and the youngling changed his pace to walking. Ratchet and First Aid were outside talking, and the younger medic noticed him first.
"Silverstreak!" he cried out. Ratchet spun around and both of them hurried over to examine him.
"Oh, Sam," Ratchet murmured sadly as First Aid picked the youngling up. "Mikaela and Leo explained what happened. I'm so sorry."
"My name is Silverstreak."
"What? But you've always been Sam to us," Ratchet said, confused.
"No. Silverstreak is what I want to be called," Silverstreak replied. "I have no reason to be called Sam anymore."
"As you wish, Silverstreak," the green medic said quietly after a moment.
"Thanks, Ratch," Silverstreak said with a soft smile.
After the two medics had checked him over for wounds, they carried him inside. The human soldiers were very quiet around him and wouldn't even glance up at him, which was strange as he was usually openly stared at. Silverstreak ignored it, and soon he was in the Autobots rec room. The youngling's spark sank when he saw Bumblebee leaning against the wall, looking like he was in pain. He lowered his head when his guardian's optics onlined to look at him.
"Sam," he whispered, reaching for the boy.
"My name is Silverstreak," came the reply.
"No. I shall call you Sam as often as I want," Bumblebee replied matter-of-factly, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument.
"Why do you have to be difficult?"
Bumblebee laughed. "I'm the difficult one?" he challenged and was met with laughter from the other Autobots.
Ratchet deposited the now pouting youngling into the yellow mech's hands. Bumblebee pulled Silverstreak into his chest, frowning when the boy struggled.
"What's wrong Sam?"
"Why do you keep forgiving me for hurting you?" Silverstreak demanded, using his hair to hide his face. Bumblebee's holo-form appeared in front of him, sweeping the silver strands away from his boy's face.
"Because I'm your friend, and that's what friends do," Bumblebee stated after a moment's silence.
"You're more forgiving than I would be," Silverstreak sighed.
"I don't think so," the yellow mech replied with a soft smile. "You can be pretty forgiving, depending on the mech."
Silverstreak fell silent, fiddling with the edge of his cloak for a moment before dropping it and reaching for the painful looking cut that he'd inflicted the night before. Bumblebee shuddered under his gentle hands, but allowed his boy to touch him. The cut still sparked with some of his electricity. Feeling worse than ever, Silverstreak pulled at it, drawing it back towards himself. To his immense surprise, it actually worked. The yellow mech gasped and arched up as electricity visibly arced to the youngling, disappearing into the small silver body. Silverstreak sat down hard, gasping in surprise. Ratchet was next to them in a second.
"How did you do that?" he demanded.
"I-I don't know," Silverstreak said with a shake to his head.
"It doesn't hurt as much now," Bumblebee said, his voice full of awe.
Ratchet started gently going over the wound again, amazed at how much the irritation had gone down. He glanced over at the youngling and laughed.
"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"I guess," Silverstreak muttered as he lay down on Bumblebee's chest. He felt dizzy and slightly ill.
Bumblebee was immediately concerned. "Put it back, Sam."
"What?" Silverstreak asked, blearily looking up at his guardian.
"It hurt you so put it back," Bumblebee replied.
"No! I-I'll be fine in a second," the youngling said. "This happens every time I find out I can do something new."
"What happens?" Ratchet asked curiously. Silverstreak didn't answer, his eyes closing tiredly.
"He gets tired. Sometimes sick, sometimes not. Depends on what it is," First Aid replied for him.
"He just never ceases to amaze me," Ratchet chuckled.
First Aid smiled. "Yeah. Me too."
Silverstreak opened his eyes as the nausea and dizzy spell passed, sitting up slowly. He was still a bit tired, but he would recharge later. Bumblebee's optics shined in happiness at seeing his boy was alright. He cupped him in a hand, his face taking on a sad look.
"Mikaela told us what happened," he said softly.
Silverstreak looked down. "Yeah. I've heard."
"You belong with us anyways," Cliffjumper said with a growl. "We're your family."
"I know. I'm over it now," Silverstreak said with a nod. "It hurt, but I still have you guys."
Ironhide looked at the red mech, gave Silverstreak a grin, and walked over to him. "Hey. You're Cliffjumper, right?"
Cliffjumper's optics widened in surprise. "Um, yeah," he managed after staring reverently at the black mech for a moment without saying a word.
"Heh. How'd you like to train with me some time? Silverstreak tells me you're pretty good," Ironhide said, trying not to chuckle at the expression on the red mech's face.
"I-I'd love to!" Cliffjumper squeaked, sounding like an excited sparkling.
As the room filled with laughter, Silverstreak settled into his guardian's hands. Sure, he was different and his family just abandoned him, but he still had his Cybertronian friends. And a few human friends. Will, Robert, Mikaela, and Leo all came in, asking what everybody was laughing about. Silverstreak waved at them and received a friendly wave back. A smile stretched over his face and he relaxed. He would cry out his pains to Bumblebee later. Right now, he just wanted to hang out with his friends.
No, he thought, looking around. They're family.