Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2013-10-15
Words:
723
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
8
Kudos:
146
Bookmarks:
15
Hits:
10,993

Just Start Over!

Summary:

Bob attempts to make Sideswipe feel better after an argument with Sunstreaker.

Notes:

‘Verse: IDW
Series: None
Rating: PG
Pairings: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, Bob
Warnings: Angst!, Very brief Cybertronian swearing, Canon? What Canon?

Notes: I had originally wanted to write something super cracky and happy, but then I was given an angsty prompt instead. SO. Angst it is.

Work Text:

~*~

Bob scuttled backwards, whimpering when the shouting became unbearable. Master was shouting at his mate, the two primary coloured mechs standing inches apart, anger and hurt practically vibrating in the air. Bob could feel it from here where he was on the other side of the room, huddled under the berth. It was a tight squeeze, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about blundering into the crossfire between the two clashing giants.

After a few minutes, Master went stomping from the room and the door shut with a hiss and a thump. Bob chirped uneasily, four golden optics staring out from the darkness underneath the berth. Was it safe to come out? He didn't know.

Not-master sighed, mumbling something Bob couldn't quite hear, before moving to the edge of the berth. He knelt down and peeked in at Bob, who tried to scuttle back farther, but his aft bumped against the wall.

"Hey, bug," Master's mate murmured softly, patting the floor in front of him, trying to coax the Insecticon from his hiding place. He forced a smile, clearly trying not to show his emotions. Not-master understood that Bob could sense emotions easily; most mechs could detect surface emotions through a mechs EM field if they were strong enough, or if the mech stood close enough, and Bob was more sensitive than normal mechs. He had instincts most didn't simply because of the hive mentality all Insecticons shared.

But Bob wasn't sure he wanted to crawl out from under the berth yet. He was upset by the argument, and wide, pale gold optics just stared out at the red mech's face.

"C'mon buddy. It's okay, I promise."

Not-master patted the floor again, and Bob inched forward uncertainly. He chirped, questioning as he moved within reach of the other's fingertips, and the red mech reached under the edge of the berth to scritch at the base of Bob's antennae. Bob purred, optics squinting shut. That was nice.

"C'mere bug," Not-master said, reaching farther to hook his hands under Bob's forearms, pulling the Insecticon from beneath the berth. Bob struggled, dragging his feet, but eventually, and with careful persistence, Not-master managed to get him free.

He sat up and pulled Bob into his lap, leaning back against the berth, his own Caribbean optics dull and pale. "What am I going to do with him?" he asked Bob. Bob just chirped and squirmed before finally settling and receiving a rub against the top of his helm.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to just stay put and let Not-master stroke his back. It seemed to be calming the mech down, and it made Bob feel better too.

"He's determined to prove he doesn't need me," Not-master continued. He sounded sad, and Bob didn't like his hive mates being upset, so he lifted his helm and bumped it against the red mech's chin, the sound of his heavy head connecting with the softer metal of Not-master's face echoing off the walls of their nest.

"Ow!" Not-master muttered, rubbing his chin and chuckling softly. "Goofy bug. That fragging hurt."

Not-master wound his arms around Bob and pressed his face to into his shoulder, sighing heavily. "Not sure what to do with him anymore," he murmured, the sound muffled by Bob's thick plating. "We used to be so close, but ever since Earth..." He paused and tightened his grip on Bob, vents hitching softly. "I know you didn't know him before, but he wasn't always this- broken."

Bob chuffed and tilted his helm, butting it against the other's arm, rubbing against the warm, living metal. He started purring, a loud, rumbling sound that vibrated through him and made his master's mate smile, however faintly.

"Thanks, Bob," Not-master whispered, giving the Insecticon a watery smile as optical cleanser rolled down the seams in his cheeks. "We've always been able to work through the drama before. I just have to keep trying. Maybe we just need to start over."

Bob chirped in encouragement. He had confidence in his little swarm; they'd be okay, he'd make sure of it. He just needed to figure out how to accomplish that. He'd also have to get away from Not-master first, and that wasn't going to happen for a while, so he just kept purring, and settled in for a long wait.