A/n: This is only the beginning. Will be updated INFREQUENTLY just so you know. I was trying to write the next chapter of 'Family is Forever,' but the muse wasn't working with me. Oh well. Anyway, this is my sequel to my fic 'Freak.' I really thought a continuation was in order, so here it is.

Warnings: References to child abuse and slavery.

Disclaimer: No, transformers is not mine.

Freak No Longer – Prologue

The wind thrashed against the crags of Kalis as the storm passed over the city state. Electricity crackled from the acid clouds down to the metal surface of Cybertron. It was a terrible night for any mech to be out. Even worse to be a sparkling.

A little sparkling wailed as he hid inside the little box he had been placed in.

He had no memory of anything but this box. All he knew was that he was alone, and that his helm hurt. It hurt really bad, and that right now, he was scared.

So young was he that he didn't know his creators had abandoned him because they were simply too poor to care for him. He would not know that they regretted it. He couldn't even remember who they were. He felt no bond with them, and before he was another few orns old, any developing bonds he had with them would fade forever.

But the sparkling didn't know that. All he knew was that he didn't like this place. It was too loud, too noisy, too scary.

The storm continued to rage as he cried, little energon tears slipping down his face.

He was hungry too. He couldn't forget being hungry.

He should have died that night.

But Primus had decided to spare this sparkling's life, and did not leave him to a slow, painful deactivation by starvation.

A convoy of mechs and femmes trekked under specialised, expensive cloaks to protect them from the storm. They trudged through the darkness away from Kalis, towards whatever town they came across next.

"Move! We must get to Polyhex within the next three orns!" a rough voice cried.

One of his underlings grumbled at something, and the first mech smacked him, sending him tumbling down the slight slope, coming to rest just before the metal box. He heard the wailing, and ignoring his state, he peered inside. In his astonishment, he called out, "Ringleader! There's a sparkling here!"

The mech called Ringleader went down, his black and red plating dulled by the darkness of the night.

He reached the box, and he too peered in, seeing the pitiful creature. It was a little red and white sparkling with helm horns which were sparking.

That was odd.

An idea formed in his mind.

Maybe that could be something he could use to draw a crowd. His circus was getting less popular with each tour. Perhaps something as startling as a sparkling that continued to spark would earn him some more revenue…

"Pick him up. He may be useful in the future," Ringleader barked.

The second mech, the one he had hit, picked up the box. They walked back to the convoy in silence, Ringleader's mind filled with the credits he could rake in from his newest performer.

As for the sparkling, one moment he knew nothing but the elements beating down harshly on him, and then small, gentle hands taking him out of the box and a soft feminine voice cooing to him. "Hush, little one. You're safe now."

"Moonracer! You can play with him later!" the circus leader called out grumpily from the front of the line.

The sparkling took no notice. His helm horns still sparked, and he didn't like the lightning, but there was something warm holding him, and it felt much better than he did before.

Little did the sparkling know that in the next few vorns hardship would come to him in the form of being the performing 'freak' of the circus who had adopted him. They all called him Freak, except for the sweet Moonracer, who played with him, named him Red Alert. His youngling years would age him. He knew almost nothing of the outside world, only of the arena, and his glitch causing circus patrons to 'ooh' and 'ahh' over his reactions. It was a painful, unrewarding existence.

Ringleader had told him about how he had been abandoned, and sometimes Red Alert wondered why Primus had let him live that night only to be used and made to feel pain.

He finally found his answer when a brave firetruck had decided to rescue him from a life of servitude and torture.

And that is where our story begins…

A/N: This probably won't be updated for a while. I just wanted to start it.