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The mech had shown up when Comet was still young, he didn’t know a lot of words and often had to guess what a mech was saying based on their field. Drift was nervous but excited, he kept glancing up at Ratchet as Comet’s sire would pull the sparkling away at any moment. But he didn’t. Drift smiled, leaning closer and rubbing Comet’s cheek with his thumb.
“Hello there, little one.” He said softly, “You’re the first I’ve seen in a very long time.”
Comet cocked his head, he understood the basics of what Drift was saying but not all of it. Drift smiled brighter. He had pointed denta, something which Comet had never seen before. Comet reached out, wanting to touch the new, exciting thing. Ratchet noticed and pulled him back.
“You don’t just jab your digits into mech’s mouths, Comet.” Ratchet scolded softly. Comet was disappointed, but his sire wasn’t yelling so he wasn’t that upset.
“He’s just a sparkling, Ratchet.” Drift said, goofy grin moved onto a much softer smile, “He doesn’t know any better.”
“And he never will if I don’t teach him.” Ratchet replied back. Comet noticed his sire was a lot less snappy with the new mech and had that almost-smile that was often reserved for him and Optimus. Comet cuddled into his sire’s chest, he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Drift laughed, “I think the little guy might be tired.”
Ratchet hummed, moving to rest Comet against his hip. He continued talking to Drift, but from further down Comet couldn’t hear them as well. His sire and Drift looked a lot more serious. Comet wrapped his arms around his sire and snuggled. He wanted to see him smiling again.
Drift stayed for a few more days, and barely left Ratchet’s side. Comet liked him, he was very nice and explained things Comet didn’t understand. Once he’d been talking about crystals until Ratchet whacked him on the helm with a wrench, snapping at him about ‘teaching my son your hippie nonsense’, Comet thought it was funny - so did Drift, Ratchet huffed and left but Comet could see his sire was smiling. Drift left for a while after that, and unlike Wheeljack no one ever talked about him. Not even Ratchet. Comet felt awkward asking his sire, so he decided to turn to Optimus. He was taller than everyone else, and Miko said that was why he was in charge. Comet thought that was a dumb rule, but Optimus was nice and always listened to Comet so he didn’t mind so much.
Optimus had been leaning against a wall, reading something on a datapad when the sparkling approached. Noticing Comet before he arrived, Optimus slid the datapad into his subspace and leaned downward so Comet wouldn’t have such a hard time looking up at him.
“Is something the matter, Comet?” He asked, tone much gentler than he’d use on any of his teammates.
Comet nodded, “Oppy! Drift, where’s Drift?” He exclaimed.
Optimus’s happiness shifted to something almost sad, the mech got down on one knee and placed a servo on the sparkling’s helm. “Drift needs to do some important things, and he had to go away for a while.” Optimus paused before adding, “I don’t know when he’ll return.”
Comet frowned. Drift was nice, and he made his sire happy. The sparkling didn’t understand why Drift wasn’t here. Even if it was important, to Comet seeing his sire happy was more important.
Optimus seemed to notice the sparkling’s mood, “It’s alright, Comet. We’re often separated from friends and… other special people by this war, but I promise you’ll see Drift again soon.”
Comet smiled brightly, pulling Optimus in for a hug. The sparkling rambled on to the leader about how he was going to prepare a very special drawing for Drift, and when he came back they could all make muffins together!
Optimus looked down at the small sparkling, smiling sadly.
About a week later Drift returned. The mech was covered in organic matter and scratch marks but he was alive and uninjured. Comet had wanted to give him a hug the moment he walked in, but Arcee had picked him up and place him firmly against her chest. Maybe she didn’t want him to get dirty like Drift?
“Drift! Drift!” Comet exclaimed happily, completely oblivious to the death glare Arcee was giving Drift.
Drift smiled awkwardly, “Uh, hey lil’ guy.” He glanced around, “I gotta get myself all cleaned up but then we can talk, alright?”
Comet nodded enthusiastically as Drift was lead away to the wash racks. When Arcee placed him down he could hear her mutter, “Filthy ‘con” . Comet blinked. He never knew Arcee hated dirt so much. Though, it kind of made sense. She was pretty small like him, so all that dirt must be a pain for her to remove. He was confused by that last part though, Comet thought ‘Con’ meant bad mechs but Drift wasn’t a bad mech. He’d ask his sire about it later.
Arcee looked down at Comet, she didn’t angle herself like Optimus and Bumblebee did but since she was smaller Comet could see her face. “Kid, do you mind waiting outside for a second? I need to talk to your sire.”
Comet nodded, and wandered down the hallway to his room. He needed to grab what he wanted to show Drift. Floofers was obvious, secondly he grabbed a datapad with the drawing he made specifically for Drift (it was him, Drift and Ratchet holding hands in a weird place Comet vaguely remembered), he also grabbed the drawing Boulder had helped him with (this one featuring Comet and his new friends the Rescue Bots, Comet thought he caught Heatwave’s grumpy look rather accurately). Comet glanced over at his toy cars, deciding which one to bring with him when he heard a shout from the other end of the hall.
“He’s my son, Arcee! You don’t get to make that kind of decision!” His sire yelled.
Comet flinched, and immediately ran to go check his sire was okay. Along the way he dropped both datapads but Floofers was firmly in his little grasp. In the main room, it looked like his sire and Arcee were arguing, with Bumblebee stood slightly more towards the exit.
“Uhh guys-?” Bumblebee whirred, only to be interrupted by Arcee.
“He’s dangerous, Ratchet! That mech used to be a Decepticon!”
“I take it you notice that glorious use of past tense, Arcee,” Ratchet snapped back, “Was, not is! ”
“Guys?”
“That doesn’t make a difference.” Arcee snarled, jabbing a digit into Ratchet’s chest, “He’s going to kill that sparkling and is going to be. All. Your. Fault!”
“GUYS!” Bulkhead yelled, breaking the tension between the two. Bulkhead turned to Bumblebee, “Bumblebee was trying to say-”
The green mech was interrupted by a rather loud sob. All the mechs in the room turned to see Comet, big, wet tears rolling down his face. Ratchet’s expression immediately fell.
“Oh, oh. Comet I-” Ratchet attempted to walk towards his crying son, but Bulkhead put a servo out in front of him.
“I think it’s best the kid stays off base, for tonight.” Bulkhead said, adding a whisper to Ratchet, “Talk to her. I’ll take him outta here.”
Ratchet nodded, looking over at his sparkling with an expression humans would describe as heartbroken. Bulkhead scooped the still crying Comet into his arms, softly mumbling to the little sparkling. Once Comet seemed to have calmed down a little, Bulkhead transformed and headed out the exit. Leaving Arcee, Ratchet and Bumblebee in an uncomfortable silence.
Until Optimus and Drift entered back into the room.
“Is something the matter?” Optimus asked, Drift awkwardly moving backwards to almost stand behind the Prime.
Ratchet sighed, “Optimus. We need to talk.”
Comet liked going for drives in other ‘bot’s alts, especially his sire’s, but at the moment Comet just felt really sad. He didn’t get why Arcee was being mean to Drift - or yelling at his sire. Arcee was nice, she liked to take Comet out to see the stars, and always made sure he was safe. Comet huffed, pressing his face against the cold window. It felt nice.
A few minutes passed, and Comet eventually caught sight of some kind of ship. It looked almost familiar, as if Comet was looking at the edges of a memory. The sparkling shook off the feeling as Bulkhead opened on of his alt’s doors. Comet hopped out before the mech transformed back into his root mood. The sparkling caught sight of Wheeljack, stood proudly in front of the ship throwing a grenade up in the air.
“Sorry for showing up so late, Jackie.” Bulkhead said, gently guiding the unusually somber Comet towards the ship. Bulkhead may have been clumsy, but he was always careful with Comet.
Wheeljack shook his head, “Never a problem, Bulk.” He replied, before clipping the grenade to his waist and glancing down at Comet, “You alright, kid?”
Comet glanced up at the taller mech, and then buried his face in his Floofers, shaking his helm.
Bulkhead’s optics flicked between Wheeljack and Comet, “It’s been a rough night for him.”
Wheeljack nodded, making a little noise of confirmation. “C’mon in, kiddo.” Comet waddled in, and once Wheeljack was sure the sparkling was out of audital range he turned to Bulkhead. “Bulk, you know me and kids don’t…” He sighed, “I-I dunno what to do.”
Bulkhead shrugged, “I’m not asking you to be his sire, Jackie. Just talk to the kid.”
Wheeljack just looked lost, “About what?”
Bulkhead didn’t respond, walking off with a wave and a ‘good luck, Jackie’. Wheeljack sighed.
The bright pop of orange was pretty easy to notice. Comet had placed himself in the co-pilot's seat and was staring out the window, looking at the stars.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” Wheeljack said, startling Comet slightly, “The view from Cybertron is much better though.”
Comet blinked, but didn’t turn his helm away from the stars, “Cybertron?” He parrotted.
Wheeljack sat down in the other pilot’s seat, putting his pedes up on the console, “That’s where we’re from.” Wheeljack points to the rough quarter of the galaxy where Cybertron is, “It’s pretty far. It’s kinda a sla-... it’s kinda bad now, but it used to be wonderful.”
Comet smiled, reaching out when Wheeljack had pointed wistfully. The little sparkling giggled.
Wheeljack chuckled, “There’s the happy little mech I know.” Comet pulled Floofers closer, nuzzling into the bear. “...You wanna talk about what happened, little man?”
Comet pulled Floofers away from his face. The sparkling was staring at the ground, expression surprisingly serious, “I don’t… understand. Cee is nice. She likes sire. Drift is nice, and makes sire happy. But Cee and sire get mad… about… Drift.”
“Oooh. That whole… mess.” Wheeljack mumbled, the mech sat up straight and addressed Comet properly, “Look, Drift is great. I love the mech, he’s skilled and smart but he’s also the softest spark you’ll ever meet. But he… he didn’t used to be like that. And Arcee - she’s old-school, tower femme - and she’s smart and nice too, but she’s still kinda stuck in her ways. She’s only acting like this because she’s worried, about you and old docbot.”
“But… but Drift’s nice!”
“Yeah, he is.” Wheeljack said, “Arcee just… doesn’t see that yet. But she will. Primus knows it took me a while to come around to the mech.”
Comet reached across the seat, grabbing Wheeljack’s arm, “Tell me?”
Wheeljack chuckled, “Alright kid,” He said with a smirk, “Just don’t tell your sire, alright?”
Bulkhead woke up rather early in the morning, and was surprised to see neither Comet nor Wheeljack in the recharge quarters. The large mech wandered out the berthroom, trying to be as quiet as possible (which, considering it was Bulkhead he wasn’t doing a very good job). He looked over to the primary hub, and noticed one of Wheeljack’s arms hanging over the side. Bulkhead approached, and as he got a proper look he noticed Comet snuggled into the mech’s chest, with Wheeljack having wrapped his other arm around the sparkling.
Bulkhead smiled. He supposed Jackie was better with kids than he thought.
The larger mech nudged his friend awake. Wheeljack groaned, rubbing his optics and sitting up slightly. His grip tightened around the sparkling in his arm as he turned to look at Bulkhead, “Hey, buddy…”
Bulkhead laughed, “Hey.” He gestured to Comet, “We should be heading back, apparently Ratchet’s twitching without his little sparkling.”
Wheeljack nodded, and gently shook the small sparkling awake. Comet nuzzled into his chest before looking up at him with bright blue optics. “Ooh, Primus, Bulk-”
“If you say ‘I want one’, I’m leaving.”
Wheeljack handed over the still sleepy sparkling, “...I wasn’t gonna say that.”
Bulkhead laughed, “Sure, Jackie.”
“Sire!” Comet squealed as he ran (or more accurately, waddled) into Ratchet’s arms.
The medic let out a sigh of relief, pulling his little sparkling closer, “You’re alright. I was so worried.”
“Ratch’, you knew he was just with me and Jackie right?” Bulkhead said.
“That’s exactly why I was worried.” Ratchet muttered, but the big mech seemed to take it well.
Comet smiled, hugging his sire tighter. When he opened his optics again, he suddenly shot out of his sire’s grasp.
“Comet-” Ratchet yelped, before turning around and realising Comet had attached himself to Drift’s right leg. The ex-Con shrugged, a brilliant, lopsided smile on his face.
“I guess this means he likes me?” Drift said whilst picking up the sparkling, once he was secured in his arms Drift turned to Comet, “Hey there. How’ve you been?”
Comet wrapped his arms around Drift’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug, “Missed you. Sire missed you too!”
Ratchet flushed a bright blue, Drift looked over with an almost smug expression, “Did he, now?” He shook his helm, “What’ve you been up to, Comet?”
Comet began recounting his stay with the Rescue Bots, Optimus all the while looking reasonably ashamed. The sparkling had been afraid to head back to his room to grab the picture he and Boulder had made, but Bulkhead offered to go grab it for him. After that the rest of Team Prime had wandered off - it seemed they all had their own business to attend to.
Drift looked down at Comet’s drawing, then he turned to the sparkling with a big smile.
“You’re very talented, Comet.” He said, “I don’t suppose you’re interested in learning marking?”
Comet tilted his helm.
Drift pointed to the distinctive, red marks running down his face, “Like this. We call it ‘marking’. It’s representative of the inner self and-”
“Do you want Drift to teach you face painting, Comet?” Ratchet interrupted.
Comet nodded, running a digit along one of Drift’s marks, “Pretty!” He exclaimed.
Drift chuckled, “Yes. They are very pretty.” Drift gently placed Comet down, when the sparkling began to whine he explained himself, “I just need to get my set from my hab, I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.”
Comet wasn’t happy - he didn’t want Drift to leave his sight at all - but he understood, so he sat down in his sire’s lap. Comet could feel warmth radiating from his sire’s field, which calmed him down quickly. The sparkling let out a happy chirp, and Ratchet rested a servo on his helm.
When Drift returned, he carefully laid out the paints in order of colour. Sitting across from both Ratchet and Comet he gestured to them, “Now, according to Spectralism, these colours all have unique and extremely personal meanings, but since you’re…” Drift paused, “ new to this kind of thing, you can pick any colour you want.”
Comet looked over the array of paints, ranging from pastels, to bright neons, to much darker colours. Comet’s optics landed on emerald-y green. He pointed to that one.
Drift picked it up and shook the bottle, “I don’t remember the code for this shade, but I had a friend who liked this one too,” Drift explained. He began applying the green paint to Comet’s face, the sparkling giggled because it tickled, “His name was Ostaros, and he was a brave mech. Green is sometimes associated with anger or aggression but I don’t see it like that -” Drift paused, checking his work before continuing, “It reminds me of Ostaros, and now of you I suppose. Of bravery, and kindness.” Drift pulled back, tilting Comet’s face to check his work from multiple angles, “Done.” He said.
Ratchet pulled out a mirror so Comet could see his own face. The lines were much thinner than Drift’s, and seemed to point out further, they also only came to a stop and the bottom of his face. Comet suddenly jolted with excitement when he realised what Drift had done. “It’s like sire!” Comet exclaimed, pointing to the kibble on Ratchet’s arm.
Drift laughed, “I’m glad you got that,” He said, “It’s a sparkbeat, and now-” He gently patted Comet’s face, “it connects the both of you.”
Comet giggled, he loved it. Suddenly the sparkling got a wonderful idea, “Do sire! Do sire!” He almost yelled.
Drift laughed at Ratchet’s surprised and nervous expression, “I think that’s a great idea, Comet.”
“No, it is not-” Ratchet tried to argue, but under the force of both his sparkling and Drift he felt himself giving in. He grumbled, “Fine. But only a little one. And if I catch you doing something sappy I swear-”
“Me? Sappy?” Drift said, placing a servo over his spark in mock hurt, “Ratchet, dearest of my spark, I would never. ”
The older mech huffed, knowing how much of a sap Drift was. He let Comet squirm out of his grasp and was slightly surprised when the sparkling plopped himself into Drift’s lap instead. Comet usually wasn’t that comfortable with mechs so quickly, but it seemed like Drift had a calming air about him.
Comet and Drift began discussing what colour to use for Ratchet’s markings. Comet didn’t want his sire wearing green for some reason Drift couldn’t quite figure out. Comet had eventually picked out a bright blue - Drift refrained from mentioning the connotations that shade of blue had to spectralists. Drift actually took a moment to think about the pattern, unlike Comet the idea did not flow as naturally to him. Eventually he settled on a design. The entire time he was marking, he was explaining his technique to Comet (keep a steady hand, small strokes). Unlike Comet and Drift’s, the design was not symmetrical - instead one side had two lines, both from the edges of the optics, twisting like a sparkbeat but down into sharp point. On the other side, Drift had written a glyph that Comet couldn’t quite understand.
Drift handed over the mirror with a giddy expression. Ratchet’s optic’s widened as they caught sight of the glyph. The older mech reached over to bat Drift on the head, though he managed to duck out the way - taking Comet with him.
“Drift, I told you-”
“C’mon, Ratchet!” He exclaimed, “It’s cute! And I think it really suits you, what do you think Comet?”
The sparkling nodded, he wasn’t sure what all of it meant (or why Ratchet was frustrated) but the bright colours did suit his sire’s face. “Very pretty!”
Ratchet rolled his optics, there was no way he could win against both of them. “Still, you couldn’t think of anything better than-”
“I still remember it,” Drift said, “And that word, you , turned my whole world around.”
Ratchet sighed, gently cupping the back of Drift’s helm, pressing their forehelms together, “You’re a fool.”
Drift smiled, “And you’re a fool too. We balance eachother out nicely, wouldn’t you say?”
Drift leaned in closer but Ratchet placed a servo on his chest, moving him away. Drift sighed, and both Comet and Ratchet could sense some form of sadness in his field, but he was still smiling softly.
Comet whined, he didn’t like seeing Drift upset - and both him and Comet’s sire had been happy a moment ago. He looked around, his optics landing on the paints. Comet reached out and picked a red that he assumed Drift used for his own marks. He pointed to it.
Drift seemed confused, “I, uh, I don’t know-”
“I think he wants to try marking your face, Drift.” Ratchet said smugly.
Drift seemed surprised, “A-Are you sure?”
Comet nodded, holding up the brush. He wasn’t as talented as Drift was - but he had a pretty good idea.
“Alright then.” Drift said, hoisting Comet up so he’d be able to reach Drift’s face easier, “Try not to get me in trouble with your sire, okay?”
Comet giggled, and began marking. Drift could feel that Comet’s grip on the brush wasn’t very controlled, and he pressed down a bit too hard several times, but for a first attempt it wasn’t too bad. Comet took much less time that Drift had, looking at the mark he’d left on Drift’s cheeks and smiled brightly. Ratchet leaned closer and pulled Comet onto his own lap, chuckling slightly.
Drift laughed, “Oh Primus, what did he do, Ratch’?”
The older mech simply handed Drift a mirror. Drift stared at the shapes Comet had drawn on his cheeks, he didn’t recognise them. It looked like two circles pushed together, coming down into a point.
“I’m sorry, little mech, I don’t know what this is.” Drift said.
“It’s an Earth thing,” Ratchet explained, “A ‘love heart’ they call it. To humans it means affection.” He looked down at Comet, “Who taught you how to draw that?”
“Miko!” Comet exclaimed happily. Even though the girl had previously accidentally traumatized him, he still held a lot of affection for the humans.
“Of course,” Ratchet murmured, still chuckling. Comet liked the sound, it was pretty rare to hear his sire laugh. The sparkling wrapped his arms around his sire, he’d missed him the previous night and for a sparkling as young as Comet that one night had almost felt like forever.
Ratchet gave him a pat on the back, “I think he’s tired…” Ratchet said quietly. Comet wanted to argue, but when he tried to sit up he just yawned. The sparkling gave in and just cuddled into his sire, and he felt Drift place a servo on the back of his helm.
Comet loved his family. Comet’s family were good.
And he was happy Drift was now a part of it.