REACH FOR THE SKY 7
Disclaimer: Hell no, I don't own. I am only borrowing them for mine and the readers' amusement.
Shout Out: I apologize for the delay - I had to work on the fields and search for a job (still searching for it, by the way), and MHB had her exams to worry about, the whole shebang was delayed up until now. I am writing though, so no worries on that front, though it may take some time to update my other works, as I am working on five separate projects at once, one of them is for an original story.
It came to my notice - by one very….persistent… reader… that I should have put up a notice in authors' bio if I had any longer absences like this one. Personally, I didn't think this was needed, as I update the stories sooner than later, and I really don't know just how many of you DO check the authors' bios for that kind of information. I am asking for your opinions here, so do tell if you would like that kind of information available here. (I avoid using AN in stories, as it's unfair to post AN without having a story along, so I am NOT doing that, expect in special circumstances.)
Warnings: Misuse of Orks, toffees and brotherly bonding Cybertronian style. Of course, one Optimus Prime has a mouth in that one… oops. Oh, and the 'cons get schooled in one of the oldest idioms known to the humankind. Poor them… Not! So, you ready?
PS: Optimus Prime's veeery colourful vocabulary here. Credit goes to jaylin and his/her site of Transformers curses, insults and swears. You want to use them in public, go ahead, but I am not responsible for the consequences. /very mild, but scary smile/
Ornament - Loosely translates to 'useless person' with shadings of 'arm candy'.
What's your malfunction - What is wrong with you
Microchip moron - Another word for 'stupid'
Processor - Equivalent to human 'brain'
Audioboxes - Equivalent to human 'ears'
Cybertron below me - Roughly equivalent to 'my God' or 'What on Earth?' depending on context.
Glitched - Not normal… or fucked up.
Burnout - Term for a robot past his prime.
Knock-off - Approximate equivalent to 'bastard'.
Kite - Effective, if mild, insult against jets with big wings.
Glitch-headed - Crazy, insane
Lump - Useless, stupid, and ugly besides.
Miss-clock - Hints at a bit of insanity, too... they're more than just slow, their internal timing is off kilter enough that their processors aren't even working in a normal mode
Spawn of Unicron - Loosely translated the same as 'spawn of devil'
My sine function - Similar to saying 'My left foot'
I don't give a flying frag - Used where a human might say, 'I don't give a darn (flying fuck).'
Go jump into the smelter - General insult. Meaning 'go jump from a cliff'.
Dim-spark - Meaning is similar to 'dim-wit'.
PPS: Zero hour and three minutes: Right now I am blatantly homicidal as I almost lost the entirely edited file and you can thank gods of Cybertron and writing I was able to recover it. Note to self - Never be dumb enough to edit the file straight out of the mail, unless you want an aneurysm when you find out that it went yippee-ki-yay to the zombie lands. Still had to edit it. I swear, sometimes I would really love to strangle the doc manager here for filching away my numbers.
It was all the Twins' fault. Really.
Besides Schweppes, Starscream had only one glaring weakness - and that was in the shape of those yummy little caramel candies, called toffees.
And as such, he couldn't help but secretly take one when the Twins visited Harry.
In his defense, the toffee smelled so yummy that he just couldn't say no.
However, his little act of stealing didn't remain unpunished for long.
As soon as the toffee was eaten, Starscream's eyes widened with horror as he felt his tongue become bigger and longer and, try as he could, he couldn't keep it in his mouth.
Mortified, he dismissed his holoform form, only to screech in dismay as he found out that his 'bot form had somehow gained a fifteen feet long nose.
"WAAAAGH!" He tried to roar out, but instead of that, the sound coming out of his voice processor was like one of those demented Orks Megatron liked so very much to kill in that Starcr - no, Warhammer game.
Curse those twins. If he ever got them in his servos, they would knew the meanings, texts and subtexts of agony!
Starscream fumed while he tried to shift in his biped form…. With zero success.
Meanwhile, Megatron stiffened.
"You heard that?" He asked Harry, his posture stiff and crimson eyes wide with glee.
"I told you those Waagh Orks were real!" He said excitedly, as if he were a little boy instead of a grown up man - excuse me, several millennia old mech. Harry sighed. Megatron and his obsession with Warhammer. Since Dudley had gifted him with that game in a misguided attempt to build familial bridges between them (surprisingly, he was on the development team for the thing,) Megatron was just plain obsessed with the game, even going so far as to make the armor and hammer -
"Now, where did I shelve my hammer and armor?"
Ginny's heart was fluttering when she approached Harry's room. This would be the greatest surprise ever, and wouldn't Harry just love it - she knew Harry would love her present the best, after all, wasn't he in love with her?
She swallowed as she clenched the fabric of her robe in her hand tightly.
She had planned this night for so long it seemed forever - she would clothe herself in her sexiest underwear and nightie, along with that rich red cloak and then surprise him.
After hours of loving, he would embrace her, and confess to her his eternal love, and she would shyly accept it –
Still daydreaming, she slowly opened the door in Harry's room, only to freeze at the doorstep.
There, Harry was - in the middle of the puppy pile, made from those three acquaintances of his, all of them in various states of undress.
Harry was decently dressed in pale blue long-sleeved pajamas, even if half of the buttons on the upper part were unbuttoned, giving Ginny a teasing glimpse of his neck and part of his chest.
He was laying on Megatron's bare chest, and on his right side there was Barry Cade - his dark hair mussed and clothed in a white skin tight wife beater and dark gray briefs, while Star, the redhead was - Ginny blushed a fire engine red - completely naked, the silver of the sheet barely covering his essentials.
Swallowing she closed the door gently and ran back to her room.
That just wasn't fair.
Meanwhile, one red eyes peeked open, when it surveyed the coast and deeming it clear, the eye was joined by the other red orbs, all of them gleaming hungrily at the mortified green ones.
"Now, where were we?" Barricade purred out, smirking.
And Harry's heart fluttered.
He looked at the small yellow thing in his hand, fascinated how such a shape could product that kind of sound.
It was also a great stress relief, and - he frowned.
Maybe it was a little bit lonely.
"Don't worry, I will get you a friend soon." Barricade promised to the duck solemnly as he gently - by his standards - squeezed it, emitting a pitiful but agreeable squeak from it.
Barricade's room was… well, pretty much barricaded by plastic ducks of all colors - red, blue, green, yellow - he even spotted some violet and hot pink ones, along with electric blue ones. All of them looked… well, well-loved (well-molested, that is).
"Barricade." His voice was calm and oddly flat. "I think Squeaky has more than enough friends."
Barricade looked at the little yellow duck in his palm, the first one he had gotten. Its shape was barely similar to a duck; if someone saw it, they would say it was kind between some scary ducky hybrid and melted plastics.
"Don't cry, Squeaky, he doesn't know what he is talking about." He muttered to the small toy while fondly… err, fondling it.
Harry sighed. Another lost cause.
Usually, Decepticons didn't make exceptions. They didn't discriminate in hating - they hated everyone equally. So it stood that they were a miserable bunch without the word 'fun' in their vocabularies - with the exception of maiming, torture and getting their opponents in difficult situations.
Deceptions were hard 'bots of the guns whose happiness entailed causing the misery of everyone else. And that went double for Megatron.
If his minions fragged up they better well own up to it and accept both the punishment, and if they didn't frag their assignment, they better be there and be good punching bags.
With those fleshbags, it was the same thing.
All of them were the same.
Only, there was one exception.
Megatron's frozen circuits - not so frozen now, but shhh, fleshbags didn't need to know about that, began to sluggishly run as he tried to look at the little person with such warm energy.
Even if he was a squishy… he was an exception…
And yes, Megatron was allowed to have exceptions… even if the one he currently had was a squishy variant.
"You know where the exit is."
Ginny glared mutinously at the silver-haired man. She didn't know when, how and why, but Harry's three roommates were ridiculously protective of him, even going as far as to show her the exit every damn time she visited him. 'The nerve of them!' She fumed. Didn't they know that their love was destined? And instead of that, those Morgana-forsaken imbeciles were still obstructing her way to him. They were just plain mean, old - she was sure all three of them were at least ten years older than her beloved Harry, and all around stinking freeloaders, no matter what Harry said. Her Harry was just too soft-hearted and once she was Mrs. Potter she would chuck them out faster than any one of them could say one of their ridiculous words.
There would come a day when she would be the one who would say those damned words.
And she would relish every single moment of it.
They may have won the battle, but the war would be hers. Nodding curtly, she headed to the exit and slammed the doors behind herself. After all, Harry wasn't in the house, so what was the harm in venting her frustrations?
Megatron winced at the sound, glaring at the now-closed door. This was becoming way too tedious. He may have been more than a millennia old, but his patience surely wasn't infinite. Now if only Harry could allow him to 'persuade' the chick to leave him alone Megatron's way, he would be a happy camper.
Oh, and by the way, Megatron's way of dealing with the pest would involve the liberal use of grenades, laser weapons and bullets even Ironhide couldn't scoff at. In fact, the Autobot's weapon master would probably congratulate him and maybe later on even join in exterminating the fleshbag cockroach.
Harry was such a prude. The ex-Decepticon leader huffed with aggravation. Megatron's use of force was perfectly reasonable. Honestly!
Optimus Prime was universally regarded as a kind, helpful mech by both of his people and the humans he had come in touch with. A veritable boy scout, as one Sam Witwicky labeled him. So it was no surprise he received much attention, admiration and gifts.
However, the latest one was a little… too much. Optimus eyed the big, taped box with some holes in the side warily. "You said this was a habit when making the peace between different factions?" He once again asked Will, just to be on the safe side.
Will Lennox sighed. Since Sam's… audience with the owner of the three ex-Decepticons, Optimus became increasingly paranoid, even if Sam had reassured him that nothing untoward had happened…. Well, aside from his mother's bashing Megatron's skull into the soup, and because of that single deed, Mrs. Witwicky had become much lauded and adored human among the Autobots, her own fan club being almost bigger than Sam's. (And some 'bots secretly worshipped the famous bat that had so soundly boinked Megatron's head, even going so far as to invent the new phrase – swearing by Judy's bat was the newest and the most binding vow any 'bot could make - 'cross their cores and hope to be struck with The Bat', as in opposition to the fleshling's expression of 'crossing the heart and hoping to die.'
Anyway, after assuaging his fears, Optimus carefully began to remove the tapes - who in the Primus' name had though out that wrapping the thing with those little pieces of sticky plastic was a good idea was indeed a master torturer, especially when Optimus couldn't help but be polite, and insisting it would be rude if he cut or tore the little annoyances apart.
And so, after two whole hours, the box was finally free of the bindings… except for one.
"So, will you open it or not?" Ironhide grumbled, peeved. He respected his leader, truly he did, but for all his good points, Optimus sure could be one masochistic little bitch when it struck him so… like with that Pit-spawned box. Ironhide would prefer to ka-boom it into smithereens, the cursed thing being the peace offering be damned, but nooo, Optimus just had to carefully unstick the tapes and then loop them back for reuse. (Another fact – Optimus Prime was incredibly thrifty. In comparison with him, even that miserly cartoon duck was positively generous.)
"So what do you think they sent him?"
"Hopefully not a bomb." Mirage replied tonelessly as he eyed the box with suspicion.
"Well, we won't find out if we leave it closed, so, do the honors, Optimus." Will snarked, prompting the Autobot leader to nod.
"Indeed." And with that said, he proceeded to carefully unstick the last tape. As soon as the tape was off, the box burst open, and a flaxen-haired blur attached itself to the Optimus' neck.
"Darling!" The blush squealed when she showered the poleaxed hologram with kisses, leaving red lipstick shapes behind. "'Ow I mizzed you! I love you, mon amour, take me to bed and make sweet love to me, my destined one!"
The males eyes bugged out at the scene – Optimus' hologram being helplessly strangled in the beautiful woman's loving embrace and enduring her lovely naked body against his form."
Lennox whistled. "Dayum, Optimus, I would take that kind of peace offering any day. You lucky sod."
Optimus Prime was a good boy. Thus, he had good karma.
Shame that his karma just happened to be a bitch, wasn't it?
The base was then treated to the sight of stuttering, blushing and half-naked (Not by his will!) and lipstick covered hologram of one Optimus Prime streaking through it, with a naked blonde beauty hot on his heels.
Megatron smirked while his two subordinates fairly roared with laughter as they watched the shenanigans, and the mess, especially when the soldiers tried to stop the girl, only for her to change into a pissed off, ugly and flame-throwing harpy.
Yup, peace offerings were seriously underrated.
"It was a joke, man! Just a joke!" Gred - or was it Forge- stuttered under the might of Starscream's evil glare.
"Oh really?" Starscream's frazzled appearance leaned a tad more to the homicidal one, as he smiled sweetly, making the twins yelp in fright and hug each other.
The WAAGH! Episode - yes, with capital letters - didn't end good for the now-bedraggled Seeker. And seriously, just why was Megatron so into cosplaying Warhammer, anyway?
He so utterly loathed the toffees now. Starscream grimaced. And to think he finally found a sweet he could stomach…A lone tear slid down his hollowed out cheek. As an effect of Megatron's only-too-cheerful anti-WAAGH! campaign, his hologram processor was damaged - not to mention his original body, curse his imbecile of an ex-leader – and as an result, his usually impeccable, spiffy hologram was looking like something out of a concentration camp and halfway to becoming a zombie.
"Then you wouldn't mind if you repent. Don't you?" A small demented smile appeared on his face, making the twins squeak with fright.
"S-Sure!" They replied in chorus, thanking their lucky stars, only to be blindsided by their ex-victim beautiful smile. "Oh, thank you," Starscream said cheerfully. "And remember, no take-backs."
With that being done, the 'con almost skipped out of the room, leaving the twins to stare dumfounded at his back.
"Dumber brother of mine, have you got a feeling…" George said,
"… that we were royally utterly and completely duped by the dearest Scream Cream here?" Fred finished, his voice quivering with terror.
The twins looked at the door Starscream had gone through, not letting themselves detangle out from their scare-hug.
"Yup." George said flatly.
"Doomed. Fred finished mournfully.
Then, Fred's eyes widened. "Did he say no take-backs?" He hissed out, alarming his twin, who paled another notch and mutely nodded his agreement.
They were totally, utterly screwed.
Three days later, Starscream was humming cheerfully as he headed to Megatron's room and opened the door.
"Hey, Megatron? You up for a game of paintball?" He asked cheerfully, making his commander's silver eyebrow quirk with curiosity.
"Paintball?" Megatron hummed, but a moment later, as he accessed the information, his lips stretched into an evil smirk. "Of course."
Starscream's happy smile changed into a small smirk.
"So what now?" Both of the 'cons were in clad in the protection gear along with the goggles, looking like trained soldiers even in that cheap attire.
Starscream smirked. "Just come with me."
They entered the place - a kind of disjointed maze - and Starscream whistled a piercing whistle, making Megatron flinch and glare at the shrill sound.
"You – "He growled only to be interrupted by a very well-known sound.
Red eyes widening, Megatron looked at his SIC. "Orks?" his voice was a near-worshipful whisper.
Starscream nodded generously. "Orks. And they are all yours."
And as if on cue, an Ork waddled from the corner in all his ugly glory, though his mane was a suspiciously familiar color.
Jaw dropping in horror, and with its eyes comically wide the Ork tried to shy away, but it was too late. Megatron had already spotted it, and with a maniacal grin, the former protector of Cybertron raised his paint gun.
"FOR THE EMPEROR!" A mighty roar exploded from his throat when he gave a chase, prompting the Ork to squeak an unmanly squeak and hightail away with all the due speed it could manage, leaving Starscream behind.
Starscream smiled. It was a slow, dangerous smile, which ended in a contented sigh as he leaned against the signpost. His costume making skills were truly a marvel, and those twin cretins were getting their due.
Life was beautiful.
The troublesome Weasley duo, and the former Prankster Kings of Hogwarts were literally crying when they were hobbling back to their little bachelor pad.
"No take-backs, indeed." Fred grumbled as he winced when he shuffled on. That Megatron had a scarily good aim and an even scarier set of lungs. Who the hell was the Emperor, anyway?
"Too true, brother of mine." George gruffed out as he hesitantly touched the shiner on his face and immediately winced. This was even worse than the last stand against Voldemort, and that was saying something!
Muggles were cruel, inventing such a painful game, and Starscream was a sadistic son of a bitch, what with his almost unreal costume-making skills. When they saw the costumes, the twins had breathed a sigh of relief - a costume, even as fugly as those, they could do - they had worn girls lingerie when they were pranked once, and those Ork costumes were practically a gift from heaven in comparison with the torture devices the G-strings and bras were.
However, when they were told they would be participating in a game, they became warier. This was too good to be true. When they got the guns, they cheered up, but then, Starscream's instructions were not to talk between them, only allowed to emit one sound and not to surrender fora minimum of two hours if they wanted his forgiveness.
So they - in fact, George - who had WAAGH!ed away at Starscream's sign, and then, the asshole had the gall to let loose Megatron in them! If it had been only Starscream, they could deal with it, but Megatron was a whole different kettle of fish, especially Megatron doped on that Emperor drug.
"Brother of mine?" Fred asked, his voice low with exhaustion.
"Yup, Starscream is an S." George confirmed.
The two twins had a system on their targets. E was Easy, M as one who loved to get with the pranks and laugh it off – in fact, those positively begged them to be hit with one of them again, the masochists, D were Dreadnoughts, the ones who plowed on, regardless of the effects , the spoilsports, F was for foxy ones, who were likely to turn their pranks back on them in some manner - Hermione earned an F, when they pissed her off once, and S was the mythical classification, for the Untouchables, the ones who could and would do unspeakable things to the aspiring masters of pranks like they were. Painful. Humiliating. And the lesson stuck very, very deeply. S as… Sadists. Or Gods of Retribution.
And much to their lament and horror, Starscream was a true blue, bona fide S.
They shuddered in unison, yelping at the numerous aches and pains racking their bodies.
Never again. Never, ever ever again.
Usually, Megatron was a happy camper. Well, semi-happy, if you want to be nitpicky, but okay. Hovewer, right now, he was glaringfiercely at the computer screen. It was always the same - be woken up, go to the training, endure the fleshbags' inane conversations, then be killed by various painful means and shake, stir, repeat until you got to the final boss…and then, back to the beginning.
Dammit, those loops were beginning to get on his nerves.
He swore he would kill those damned Mimics even if that was the last thing he did.
BEEP-PEEP. The beginning again. Cue twitching of Megatron's left eyebrow.
Megatron stilled. Then inhaled, and then exhaled, his muscles trembling with the effort to hold still,
Finally he couldn't hold it in anymore.
Jumping up, he tore the wide flat screen off of its place and threw it through still closed window as if it were a harmless Frisbee.
"DAMMIT, THIS PIT-SPAWNED THING IS GLITCHY! I DEMAND A REFUND!" he roared, furious.
"I will demand refunds for destroying my property, you bastard." Came a deathly calm voice behind his back, and the mighty, undefeatable (until now,) Megatron squeaked like mouse going through puberty.
In the background, the ending track ofthe 'All You Need Is Kill' game tinkled mournfully as he stared into furious green eyes as his owner approached him.
"Sorry?" He asked, his voice meek when he courageously held his ground against the advancing wizard who was not happy with little old him and his antics.
Curse you, loop. Curse you.
(From then on, the L-word was forbidden to be mentioned around Megatron. Barricade was the first unsuspecting victim to voice it and paid for it dearly. However, Harry managed to stop Megatron from going into a rampage in the library – although that didn't stop Harry from extracting refunds from the short-tempered mech.)
There was no method to the madness that was life with Harry and his fleshbags. Especially when counting that little fleshbag who was capable of changing the colors of his hair became furry once per month.
Barricade had a bright idea - not! - to take the said little fleshbag who was named after a cutesy bear - Teddy, was it? – for a walk.
When it was a full moon.
And this was an origin of the legend about the crazy man with a rainbow-colored werewolf traipsing through the daisies like they didn't have any care in the world.
But that was Unca Barry and little Teddy's little secret.
No method to the madness, but there a madness to the method - said furball was calm, Barricade didn't need to listen to its whines and he got far away from Starscream's latest fashion experiments.
So, wins all around.
(There was the pesky matter of the furball's biological father, but after a good reasoning with the man, Barricade's strolls were almost uninterrupted by said parental unit.)
At first, Megatron had though to conquer the world of fleshbags, if only because that would calm his vindictive little spark and also cleanse the world from those pathetically weak species.
But nowadays, he found out that the ones who were quashed were him and his ilk - and it was not with any over-the top weapon or anything.
It was… The red-eyed and silver-haired man pondered. Kindness. Loyalty. Quirks and temper and acceptance, all wrapped in one small, fragile, human-shaped package with green eyes.
If he had to be quashed, Megatron mused, this was definitely the best way to go…
But not when his conqueror was drooling on his chest.
Grumblingquietly to himself, he carefully moved Harry's head and wiped the spit away with a piece of his pajama before lowering it back to its place.
Well, he always knew that there had to be some pitfalls to their agreement.
He felt Harry nuzzle into his chest while sighing happily, and he relaxed.
Well, there may be pitfalls, but the perks definitely outweighed them.
Optimus Prime was rarely upset. Very rarely. He was calm, happy, he may have been taken aback, he was devastated, miserable and everything in between.
But he rarely, very rarely felt the state that was under the deceiving name of… being upset.
However, this little episode with the peace gift warranted this kind of forbidden feeling.
Oh, and a little known fact - When Optimus Prime is … ahem, upset, it's the right time to run for the hills. (The secret to Optimus Prime being an actual Prime is not his wussy ways or being kind or being capable of leading. It's… shocking, but true...his ability to be upset.)
Scratch that, it's too late by then.
So… Optimus Prime wasn't a happy 'bot about receiving an ornament (arm candy), and he wanted to express his kind regards to the sender. And so, on some mild summer evening, the long-unused link between the two berth-mates came into life.
Megatron was quietly playing chess with Starscream and winning - of course, he was Lord Megatron he always won - when something tickled the long-unused part of his processor.
It was like knocking.
And he knew damned well just who was on the other side of those proverbial doors.
Smirking, he opened the channel.
"Hello, little brother."
'Megatron.' The answer came back in sub-zero tones and Megatron was surprised his processor hadn't frozen yet. Hm, maybe his training with ice-cream was good for something, after all.
"Did you enjoy the gift?" Megatron couldn't help but needle Optimus a little.
'This Terran practice is barbaric.' The seething reply made Megatron's lips curl up in a happy smirk.
"Come on, brother, it wasn't so bad." He cajoled. "And the fleshling agreed to play her part."
'WASN'T SO BAD?' Optimus' voice lost its sub-zero tones and went straight to shrieking ones, making Megatron wince at the volume. 'WASN'T SO BAD? YOU… WHAT'S YOUR MALFUNCTION!? HUMANS ARE NEVER USED FOR PEACE GIFTS, YOU MICROCHIP MORON! IS YOUR PROCESSOR LEAKING OUT OF YOUR AUDIOBOXES? CYBERTRON BELOW ME, IT IS, ISN'T IT? ALL THAT ICE MUST HAVE GLITCHED YOU - WAIT, YOU WERE PRETTY DAMN GLITHCED BEFORE, YOU BURNOUT KNOCK-OFF KITE!'
Megatron's smirk faded at the last insult. "Hey, I resent the last remark."
"YOU MEAN YOU RESEMBLE IT, YOU GLITCH-HEADED LUMP OF A MISS-CLOCK!' Optimus howled back, incensed. "YOU SPAWN OF UNICRON – '
"Thanks for the compliment," Megatron interrupted him dryly, "Though that's not nice to say to your older brother."
'OLDER BROTHER, MY SINE FUNCTION! I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FRAG ABOUT OUR RELATION – '
"How sweet." Megatron muttered to himself sarcastically. "My spark is practically breaking with despair at your erstwhile proclamation."
'GO JUMP INTO THE SMELTER, YOU DIM-SPARK!'
"Oy, oy, that was definitely not deserved." Megatron huffed back. "I'll have you know I am very intelligent."
'WELL, THEN TAKE THAT INTELLIGENCE OF YOURS UP YOUR TAILPIPE, BECAUSE IT'S DEFINITELLY NOT WORKING IN YOUR PROCESSOR!' A sound of furious venting came through the link, and Megatron sighed.
"Better now?" he asked dryly.
"Much." Optimus agreed, his voice once again calm and not fraught with static. 'Now, dear brother of mine, tell me what warranted that gift of yours unless you want me to become… upset.'
Voice. Not necessarily the most important for Cybertronians to communicate. They had their comm links, and that was it. If 'bot was mute, they could always repair or switch the voice processor, or even repair the programming, and it was rare that thevoice box was glitched up to the stage it was impossible to repair.
However, the fleshbags - ahem, oops, excuse the expression, humans, were very dependent on the vocal expression of their thoughts. So it was an unpleasant surprise to the 'cons when Harry had gotten cursed to the degreethat his voice just shut down. It had been one of those impossible scenarios - when everything was going well - too well to be true, and some fleshbag had the sheer audacity to attack their Harry! Thankfully, the assassination didn't succeed, but his throat was definitely damaged and he was under strict orders not to speak for a week and a half at least.
The house was curiously quiet without Harry's voice- the 'bots had kind of gotten used to it sounding from one or another corner or the cheerful humming when he was preparing food or snacks and a little bit off-key singing when he was in a shower. Though the last one was their guilty pleasure to hear and none of them had the spark to admit they were listening to him.
The sound of his laughter. When he was serious. When he was happy. When he was sad or frustrated; they loved it all.
But maybe, Starscream mused as he looked in Harry's content eyes, the voice wasn't so important when those green eyes expressed everything Harry felt so very clearly.
"I didn't say you had to go along with my family - just try it." Harry eyed the mutinous 'cons exasperatedly. Really, was that too much to ask?
"But that bushy-hair had her calculations so totally wrong that even Unicron would cry – " Starscream began,
"I didn't appreciate the matron's forcing her yucky greasy dishes upon me – "Barricade continued,
"And that French girl is stalking me." Megatron concluded sulkily.
Harry glared at the trio. "This is my family, so… Suck. It Up." He rebuked the sulking cons before shooing them back to the tortur - ahem gathering.
However, despite of his grumblings, he still placated incensed Hermione, ran interference with Molly and got Megatron to play the chess match with the youngest redheaded boy - Ronald was it?
At the end of the day, the three bots found out that it hadn't been such a huge catastrophe dealing with Harry's family… especially when they found out that Harry counted them among the members.
Still, they would love to be his closest, nearest and dearest family… But that was still work in progress.
Interestingly enough, each of the 'cons had their default moods, Harry noted. Barricade was usually quiet, enjoying the sounds of nature and playing his flute, even if he did play the part of the jock surprisingly well. Starscream was a snooty-nosed prima donna, always primping, always insisting on being perfect and easily pissed off, but nobody knew he was also deeply caring about kids, not minding playing in the sandbox much, and he loved the skies with passion that was similar to Harry's own. Megatron was the hardest one to understand - he was brash, rude, cruel and seemingly there was no chink in his armor. Megatron didn't care for many things, but he had a dry, quirky sense of humor and he loved strategy games. And despite being an evildoer, he was surprisingly fair in his dealings with the beings. But that side was buried deep within him and only recently did Harry managed to unearth a little bit of it from its rusted and darkened corner.
Harry smiled as he watched the three of them sleep under the tree - so very different and yet strangely similar, snoozing under the warmth of the summer sun, seemingly without any care in the world.
They were his, with all of their mercurial moods, good and bad sides, and Harry wouldn't have it any other way.
Silently, he leaned down between Megatron and Barricade, closing his eyes contentedly, not aware of the red eyes looking at him with a fond gleam in his depths.
Barricade stared. The weird horse-like creature stared back. Harrumphing, Barricade turned away, only for the horse to do the same.
Weird horse had been following him since three nights ago and Barricade didn't have a clue why. He only took a little stroll in the night! Honest!
"Go home, you nosy pest." Barricade snarled at it, only for the weird horse to snarl back in a parody of a mocking smile, only those teeth were definitely not for grazing the grass. Its wings swished imperiously and the creature snorted mockingly, as if daring him to do anything.
When he mentioned that to Harry the human blinked.
"Oh." He said, making Barricade gape at him. "It's normal. That is a Thestral, only the ones who had seen someone die can see them." Something in his casual explanation needled Barricade's processor.
"So you can see them too?" He asked slowly, suppressing a flinch when Harry simply nodded, his face solemn. "We were at war at that time. Death was unavoidable." Harry explained shortly, and then left for the kitchen.
Still, when Barricade was the proud and a little bit bewildered owner of a young Thestral foal, Harry had willingly helped him to learn the ropes.
Because, surprisingly enough, his Patronus turned out to be a Thestral.
"You want your snakes to mate with his snake." Luna's offhand comment made all the three 'cons blink.
"I was not aware I owned any cold-blooded and legless reptile, and Harry doesn't have snake either." Megatron replied, confused. The three 'bots had a tea party with the dreamy-eyed girl.
Luna quirked her eyebrow as she eyed the three males in front of her dryly. .
"The one between your legs doesn't count?"
Cue the three-way spit takes.
Innocent little Luna. Always with her head in the clouds, full of the weird creatures that may or may not exist in reality. The three wet 'cons eyed her, mortified to their non-existent bones. Meanwhile, the culprit in question only took a sip of the tea, smiling angelically at the furiously blushing men.
"Y-You don't know what you are talking about!" Megatron finally managed to splutter out, his cheeks a fetching red.
"On the contrary, I do." Luna countered serenely. "You want to bake cookies, batter dip the corn dog, bury the one-eyed worm, walk the dog, put the snake in the cave, ride the wild bull, do the naughty, juice him, do the horizontal mambo" - here Starscream made a strange hurking sound in the back of his throat, " – make a mattress dance, do the mommy-daddy dance, play doctor, glaze the donut, feed his kitty – "Barricade cautiously edged away from the crazy woman – "get your nuts cracked – " Megatron winced and crossed his legs protectively . "- do the naked dance – "
"Luna?" Harry's voice floated on the air, making the poor 'cons stiffen rigidly in their chairs. "What are you telling the poor sods?"
The three 'Cons wanted to offline permanently. That was just what they needed least, for Harry to hear this... filthy little litany on what they wanted to do to him.
Luna smiled innocently at the approaching wizard.
"Oh nothing, just educating them on some cultural references."
The trio deflated - neither of them knew whether it was from the sheer relief about not being found out, horror that they would have to go through it again just as soon as Harry was out of hearing reach, or the downright mortification of their deepest desires about doing the unmentionable things to Harry were being aired out so blatantly.
To Be Continued